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I have every reason to suspect that Conspiracy Theory is meant to be a low-budget production, a weird independent film where the funny dialogues and eccentric characters could spin their threads of paranoia into a great offbeat morbid comedy. Sadly, the good bits of the movie are hidden under the weight of hack thriller cliches and a cringeworthy romance.
I can to some degree try to understand how this transpired. The initial screenplay from Brian Helgeland is bound to have been ungainly and brilliant. It revolved around a New Yorik cab driver who, being nosy, tends to mix everything he hears into one huge singular conspiracy theory. Most of the time he’s seriously insane and, very rarely, like a faulty clock, he is rightish. “I was right!” he says at one point, but what was I right about?” One can imagine such a screenplay was a hit in Hollywood its strange and wonderful premise guaranteed business. That was, of course, before it was packaged with stars like Mel Gibson and Julia Roberts and an A list director Richard Donner of Lethal Weapon, This movie could have been «shot» for a few millions, but not with such fame, so it escalated into a megabudget featured film and was phased out of importance.
I’m still in the process of formulating my fantasy, but flashes this style did capture what looks to be industry intellect saying that Gibson and Roberts needed to fall in love, “because the audience will want to see that.” Really? Based on the fact that the whole shards of plot are ripped apart and sent flying like rubber from tires, it would seem that this is a very torturous construct. This writer, or his twin, then continued to comment that since there the resource to inflate the action sequences lurked, there unquestionably needed to be some.
Most action sequences hardly work. The majority blur a movie’s context and thrust an audience into a despairing standstill. A trivial example in point is that “Conspiracy Theory” is never more intriguing than the parts in which Gibson spins out actions into his surrealistic tales and never more tiresome when secret service agents perform helicopter rope drops in the middle of the New York street. The viewers had been rendered resiliently exhausted with countless action themed setpieces executed in a variety of films. Unless the scenes add to the plot, have no purpose and add no value, but glaze over the audience. It’s a known fact that the leading character has decided to go out for lunch and all other fans are watching at the stuntmen backed by the second unit.
The character Gibson from the film ‘Conspiracy Theory’ is a brilliant one. His name is Jerry Fletcher , a man who has kept on listening to a lot of talk radio. There are so many different ideas that spiral around his head, so much so that they defy comprehension. For example, he states that the UN troops which right wing militias plan to use against us are actually here to protect us from a invasion. Or Issues such as Vietnam were fought because Howard Hughes made a bet with Aristotle Onassis. He claimed that they gathered all of the fathers who won an Nobel prize and extracted their sperm, which was then frozen. He even went as far as to say that Oliver Stone is a man who works in order to destroy the reputation of conspiracy theorists. How about the plan by NASA to kill the president by causing an earthquake through their space shuttle? And the argument that all the fools read ‘Catcher in the Rye’, this has a reason too.
Gibson, a talented comic actor, delivers this material with kind of insane implicit conviction. He could have been all right in the little indie production, with the exception of the fact that there is always a star in every perfect script, which changes the script in a Heisenberg Uncertainty principle manner. It turns out to be an obsession. A Justice Department agent (Julia Roberts) whom he saved from a mugging and fell in love with. He tries to divulge his theories to her; she tries to placate him until he may actually be onto something.
To avoid spoiling the storyline, I will reserve additional details. Most prominently, the cast includes Patrick Stewart who plays a government psychiatrist and spends the better part of the film with a broken nose – not as severely as Jack Nicholson in ‘Chinatown’. I emphasize, however, that the best aspect of the film is the authentic scenes from the life of a taxi driver (there is even a bit of screentime devoted for the ‘Taxi Driver’ street drummers in Times Square). The film is bound to be a lot more hilarious and captivating if it had remained on the ground level- if it was an actual caricature of people. There is so much potential in the core content but it is absent in the romance that is nonexistant, looking quite awkward as a branch that is not needed, or an extra organ.
I have not an ounce of understanding about the details of the production of this work. And I am not privy to it in the slightest. It is all purely on instinct. But at the same, my instincts tell me that significant alterations were carried on the primary source material for the “audience expectations” of profits over the stars. If one wishes to wrack their brain watching the injuries inflicted by overzealous pencil pushers, approach with great attention the snippets in the movie wherethere is an attempt to address the questions of how this woman and this man can come to this relationship. It painful to watch a movie try to distance itself from its best qualities.
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