Ladder 49 (2004)

Brief: After saving a man, Jack Morrison (Joaquin Phoenix) finds himself trapped in the worst fire of his career. As his "brothers" work diligently to locate him under the guiding hand of Chief Kennedy (John Travolta), Jack looks back on his life both in and out of the fire house since his first day with Engine 33.

It's a pretty simple idea, one that has been tried and found true. Here Lewis Colick (writer) handles the emotional highs and lows effectively, something occasionally found lacking in his previous films (e.g. Bulletproof). He knows how to pluck at the heartstrings of the crowd, and I wouldn't describe this movie as anything less than emotional. Not dramatic, my friends, emotional.

What I really appreciated, though, was that it was a movie about firemen, and it was not set in New York City. Set in Baltimore, I don't recall a single mention of 9/11, a now all-too-cliched way of forcing emotion from a quickly growing embittered public. Although some lost more than most, I think that nearly everyone lost something that day, and we don't want to be reminded of it everyday on TV (thanks, anyway, CSI: NY) and in the theatres.

That said, does anyone here know a fireman? I have personally known two in all my days, and I don't think either one fits the mold set out in movies for firemen. They are inevitably one or both of the following two things: 1) Irish Catholic, and 2) third generation firefighters. Believe you me, I wouldn't make a drinking game out of spotting those two things in this movie.

Aside from that, I would vouch for Colick's screenplay. It's a romantic send-up of what we often forget complete strangers are willing to do for us, and, although not the best one I've ever seen, it comes close.

Jay Russell (director) has graduated to big kid movies (previous offerings of My Dog Skip and Tuck Everlasting) with nothing short of a bang, and he certainly attacked this one with gusto. He treats us to fine supporting performances from Travolta, Jacinda Barrett, Robert Patrick, and especially Morris Chestnut. His greatest challenge, though, is Phoenix, who barely leaves the camera's eye for single frame.

I realize that coming from me this is a much belaboured point, and I'm going to say it anyway: Phoenix is such a natural up there on the screen. Not single breath feels forced in this performance. Jack is alive with a strong and believable combination of nervousness and confidence, and Phoenix knows just when to play which level of each, making sure the audience simultaneously knows and doubts they way things are bound to end.

William Ross' score was probably the most dubious element of the entire film but mainly because it was Irish before we knew the characters were.

For me, it was entirely worth the admission fee (who doesn't have seven dollars to spare), but I'm not sure I would say it was for everyone. I stayed until the last credit had rolled by, and, as I watched my fellow moviegoers leave, there were few dry eyes.

And, on a personally amusing note: http://www.thetyee.ca/Entertainment/current/AgainstTarantino.htm