Event Horizon (1997)

I saw “Event Horizon” back in 1997 and thought it an ugly, silly mess with good actors – Sam Neill and Laurence Fishburne star – mucking about in a spaceship so familiar one keeps waiting for John Hurt to lose his lunch. (Hurt does not appear.) The plot: Neill is a scientist leading the salvage of the spacecraft Event Horizon that went missing seven years prior with no clear explanation. The ship appears as if every ’80s slasher villain has run through it: Blood smears and grisly bodies abound, floating in micro-gravity. Why? How? I won’t spoil it. Naturally, though, the crew ditch the buddy system and split up because in 2047 no one has seen “Alien.” Made by Paul Anderson (not Thomas, but W.S.), “Event” smacks of a film that’s dead certain that pouring on guts, gore, eyeballs, and blood all means horror and scares, not aware that the opposite is true. The paces Neill is put through makeup-wise brings my truest pity. The scenes with men holding on by fingers to bending, twisting iron brought my continuous, unpitying laughter. Time has not been kind at all. D

21 (2008)

“21” -– based on a true-story -– is a casino heist film of a different color, relying on card-counting for its anti-heroes to steal from the rich. Speaking of color, the characters onscreen are of a different color too, as the real suspects were Asian-Americans. On film, it’s WASPed up the nil. (Producers say they tried really hard to find college-age Asian actors.) But I digress. The story: MIT math geek Ben (Jim Sturgess) digs the class held by a snarky professor (Kevin Spacey) and is soon asked to join the man’s off-hours Blackjack Club. But it’s a con, and the prof has his students pulling down Vegas casinos in front of all seeing eyes, two of which belong to Laurence Fishburne. Will Ben, a good lower-middle-class boy with an hourly job and a wish to attend Harvard Med, wake up from his Gordon Gekko dive and do good? Put aside the race issue, we’re watching an Eagle Scout build a fire with flashy editing, loud music, and the lure of sex stewing faux suspense to make us forget the guy’s a freakin’ Eagle Scout. The ending is so upbeat happy, Ben could be Roy Hobbs. C+

Dark City (1998) and The Matrix (1999)

Funny how some movies seem separated at birth, perfect soul mates for a perfect double bill. Especially two sci-fi films that deal with a loner hero realizing his existence within a false reality and hunted by men dressed in black. That’s the basic plots behind “Dark City,” and “The Matrix,” the latter of which was filmed on the same sets as the former and released a year apart. Some die-hard conspiracy buffs insist “Matrix” ripped off “Dark City.” No. I see them as two pieces of inspired, similar art that we’re lucky to have.

“City” is from director/writer Alex Proyas, who was following the charcoal-colored theme of his tragic actioner “Crow.” Here, a man (Rufus Sewell) wakes up in a hotel bathtub with no idea where he is or – more vital – who he is. A ribbon-sliced body of a woman lies nearby, but he saves a dying goldfish before fleeing the room. This is a wondrously strange tale exactly modeled after 1950s film noirs with the burg of the title stylized after some ’30s hyper-drugged-out German architectural nightmare. There’s a dame (Jennifer Connelly), a weary detective (William Hurt), and a group of pale men and one boy dressed in black coats with strange powers. These creeps are called “Strangers,” and exist below the city. Did I mention the disfigured mad scientist? He’s here. German indeed. Not to say this is that kind of film. Not Nazis. Further out. Crazy wonderful sinister fun, it's a must watch for artistic candy, sharp story, heavily stylized acting, and the way it gooses with one’s own memory. As the scientist, a creepy Kiefer Sutherland recalls Peter Lorre, whose countless monsters/killers belong to this world. A

“Matrix” is the box office smash that launched a sci-fi subgenre. You know the story: Thomas Anderson, cubicle drone by day and computer hacker by night, is recruited by a Zen-guru resistance leader (Laurence Fishburne) who says the world around them is a mirage, that Anderson lives inside a stream of 1s and 0s. The real world is barren, most of humanity slave power pods to AI robotic overlords. Directed and written by Andy and Larry (now Lana) Wachowski, “Matrix” is a generational hallmark film, the “Star Wars” of our then-dawning 21^st century, with an anti-authority alien tone lit green that is cliché now, but mind-shattering then. Bullet time, people. The fights as Thomas -– now Neo, a Jesus-Christ-by-way-of-William-Gibson-by-way-of-John-Woo savior -- takes on a cop/anti-virus named Smith (Hugo Weaving, hammering the Queen’s English into servitude) still rock. As Neo, Keanu Reeves finally has the perfect arena for his seemingly human blankness, playing the canvas for which all hope will be painted. He’s never been better, more exactly right. The sequels were ponderous, but this remains a thrill of cinema reimagined by two visionaries. Incredible. A+

Contagion (2011)

“Contagion” will stay with you for weeks, like a bad infection or the title killer virus that spreads around the globe thanks to Gwyneth Paltrow’s businesswoman/mom/wife/adulteress. This is a medical apocalypse horror flick where every cough, sneeze and human touch comes on like an axe blade. Director Steven Soderberg and writer Scott Z. Burns present a cold and smart drama, as if told by a veteran crime reporter. The duo refuse to go for the loud orchestra-assisted heroic deaths of major characters: They get sick and die, the scene moves on. No comment. Like the virus. Some great actors – Matt Damon, Kate Winslet, Laurence Fishburne and John Hawks among them – are the scrambling heroes, locking their surviving children in their home, taking to the field to control the virus’ spread, or managing from on high at Center for Disease Control. The characters spill expert medical terms without apology, make errors both terrible and loving, and the saviors wear lab coats. The women rock. Science rocks. Jude Law plays a snakey left-wing blogger, and is deviously good. Damon marks his best onscreen moment: A husband so shocked upon hearing of his wife’s death, he asks to speak to her. The doctor repeats, “She’s dead.” Cold and sad. A-