Big Thrills

Excess details kill 'Ronin'

Courtesy of United Artists Robert DeNiro stars as Sam in the new John Frankenheimer thriller, "Ronin."

By Aaron Rich
Daily Arts Writer

In Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction," part of the mystique surrounding the now-infamous briefcase stems from the curious fact that the case is in the possession of four know-nothing kids. This twist is subtle, but central to setting up our interest and allegiance.

John Frankenheimer attempts to create a similar point of intrigue in "Ronin" - another film about a case. There are no fast-talking wise-guys in this film, no daring editing and no memorable soundtrack. The luggage is perhaps more important in this film, but the director missed one point. We do not care at all about this package.

The story of "Ronin" is indirectly drawn from Japanese feudal legend - or that is what the filmmakers would have us believe. As the story goes, the ronin were samurai who had been disgraced by the deaths of their masters. These warriors were forced to wander the world as swordsman free-agents, looking for jobs that would help regain their respect.

In modern-day France, a man known simply as Sam (Robert DeNiro) is supposedly one of these disgraced fighters. The ex-CIA agent is thrown into a group of international intelligence wizards who are all being paid by an elusive-but-powerful-boss, Seamus (Jonathan Pryce), to find a briefcase with unknown contents. Sam and his French cohort Vincent (Jean Reno) are hell-bent on getting the case and smashing up a few cars in the process.

The plot is not too new - in fact it seems like a mix of a few Hitchcock films with a bit of "Mission:Impossible" thrown in. On top of the trite scenario, the writing features one-liners seemingly cut out of old Schwarzenegger muscle movies. Even DeNiro cannot make these lines come alive.

It becomes clear in the middle of the film that the only reason why the setting is France is to give believability to ridiculously off-the-wall plot devices. Most notable in this group of not-so-clever sequences are the two smash-up car chases. Sam and his buddies continually find themselves involved in high-speed pursuit a la "Bullitt" and "The French Connection."

These are exciting, however, after the first one - which goes on for nearly 10 minutes - a second is not necessary and seems over-choreographed. Frankenheimer must have spent all his budget on new, black European cars, as nobody seems to escape these races without a few fenders dented. The traffic cops in France are apparently sipping coffee in the cafes.

The international scope of the plot brings out some of the more ridiculous features of the film. Jonathan Pryce plays Seamus, the Irish terrorist, who's accent jumps from Irish brogue to English lilt in a matter of seconds. Seamus hires Deirdre, played by Natascha McElhone - seemingly Jane Seymour on testosterone - to lead the thugs around and, by all means, stop the Russians (those pesky and perennial baddies) from getting the case.

The Russians are represented by, of all silly personages, Katarina Witt's skating coach. Witt is by far the most convincing actor in the film playing the role of international ice skater extraordinaire perfectly.

Just when we think that the film will end - seeing as most of the bad guy are dead or seem to be dead - the story continues for another half-hour. This 30 minutes is not spent explaining Japanese culture, either. Most of it is just a continuation of the same hackneyed action scenes. This is not to say that all the action is bad; most of it is fun, but they are unbelievably out of the realm of plausibility.

"Ronin" is a lesson in excess. There are too many car wrecks, too many black-and-white bad guys and too many peripheral characters. At the same time, it is clear that not enough effort was spent on the script, which is not always necessary in a big action flick, but unmistakably hinders this film.

09-30-98