This film is of the worst types of Hollywood films, historical enactments that trivialize tragic events by glossing over the human element while barely paying lip-service to the dead and loosely tying together history and hearsay with clichéd dialog and the worn-out conventions of cheap action-thrillers. It's no wonder MGM tried to burn-off this stinker at the end of the summer movie season, long before the more vital Holiday box office. I saw this in limited release in LA... at $12, it was a rip-off.
Terrence Howard is mediocre at best. He lacks both the charisma and power to carry this film, which is awkwardly patched together with his clumsy and lifeless narration. Jesse Eisenberg is awful. It's clear he either got this role by pulling a fortune from a Cracker Jack box or by being the nephew of an important Hollywood producer. This possibility is only more pathetic considering his character is exactly that: a greenhorn thrust into the action by an overbearing father high-up in the network he works for. His incessant blinking, acting through his eyes and pour delivery made me want to laugh. Richard Gere's performance is uneven and his character never appears quite as conflicted as the script would have you believe.
Which brings us to the heart of this piece of Hollywood clap, the pathetic excuse for a script by Richard Shepard, whose most notable work before this was directing for Ugly Betty and Criminal Minds. The pacing is awful. The film doesn't truly start for over an hour, yet the most climatic scene of the whole film is setup and over in 45 seconds. No build-up, no tension. Throughout the painfully slow first 60 minutes there are numerous clunky scenes of ugly exposition that are forced down the viewer's throat like so many pieces of un-masticated, Americanized, overcooked and soggy hot dog. I was almost sickened as the clichés rolled in one after another... Bar scenes where buddies pour drinks of the local liquor that is said (more than once, by the SAME character) to bring the Devil himself to the table... Dark characters in clandestine meetings striking a match to light a cigarette and illuminate their distrustful visage... Evil faces emerging from behind dirty plastic sheets hanging in dank basements... Triumphant characters telling bad guys, "You're going down, mother-f***er!"... CIA characters being more than happy to offer lectures about the "gray areas" their organization is forced to work in... Car chases on dark rainy nights... Long shots of foreboding looks from local villagers... Flashback after flashback of the same scenes of lust and libations with lost loves. Easily the worst of these unnecessary flashbacks was a single line of dialog that was spoken by a character barely 20 minutes before. I literally asked the film - out loud - "Do you really think I'm so stupid that I needed to hear that line again?" It's sad to see such a good idea for a compelling story completely destroyed by an inexperienced, untalented writer/director with too much power.
Even if you can ignore all the cheap Hollywood tactics used to manufacture conflict, the script is riddled with so many other problems, it's impossible to become engaged long enough to enjoy anything... Long exposition scenes that could have been summarized in one line... Horribly out-of-character dialog... Completely superfluous girlfriend characters vacationing in Greece... Manipulative scenes that are so convenient in the placement of characters and timing that they are completely unbelievable. Add in a musical score filled with sappy, over-sympathetic violin melodies that destroy every mood that the movie was so careful to ALMOST construct, and it seems as though the film's intent is to dare you to become engaged.
The worst part is that The Hunting Party tells a story of a tragic conflict and genocide that NEEDS to be heard by every American, but the film is so bad at conveying its message, it betrays the memory of those lives lost. This film will not reach the audience it should, it will not touch the hearts that need changing, it will not come close to opening enough minds to possibly prevent another genocide in the future.
Even in its last moments, the film tries too hard to draw parallels and lay shame upon the inactive parties of the U.N. and the world's indifference to atrocities... While flashing "Where Are They Now?" title cards of the various characters in the last shots of the movie, Richard Shepard (with great and smarmy righteousness), goes above and beyond any notion of responsible storytelling by adding the idea that the U.N. and other related countries were unable to find the masterminds of the genocide in Bosnia because they were perhaps too busy trying to find Osama Bin Laden. This suggestion is so ridiculous, it smacks the face of every life destroyed by this war.
Terrence Howard is mediocre at best. He lacks both the charisma and power to carry this film, which is awkwardly patched together with his clumsy and lifeless narration. Jesse Eisenberg is awful. It's clear he either got this role by pulling a fortune from a Cracker Jack box or by being the nephew of an important Hollywood producer. This possibility is only more pathetic considering his character is exactly that: a greenhorn thrust into the action by an overbearing father high-up in the network he works for. His incessant blinking, acting through his eyes and pour delivery made me want to laugh. Richard Gere's performance is uneven and his character never appears quite as conflicted as the script would have you believe.
Which brings us to the heart of this piece of Hollywood clap, the pathetic excuse for a script by Richard Shepard, whose most notable work before this was directing for Ugly Betty and Criminal Minds. The pacing is awful. The film doesn't truly start for over an hour, yet the most climatic scene of the whole film is setup and over in 45 seconds. No build-up, no tension. Throughout the painfully slow first 60 minutes there are numerous clunky scenes of ugly exposition that are forced down the viewer's throat like so many pieces of un-masticated, Americanized, overcooked and soggy hot dog. I was almost sickened as the clichés rolled in one after another... Bar scenes where buddies pour drinks of the local liquor that is said (more than once, by the SAME character) to bring the Devil himself to the table... Dark characters in clandestine meetings striking a match to light a cigarette and illuminate their distrustful visage... Evil faces emerging from behind dirty plastic sheets hanging in dank basements... Triumphant characters telling bad guys, "You're going down, mother-f***er!"... CIA characters being more than happy to offer lectures about the "gray areas" their organization is forced to work in... Car chases on dark rainy nights... Long shots of foreboding looks from local villagers... Flashback after flashback of the same scenes of lust and libations with lost loves. Easily the worst of these unnecessary flashbacks was a single line of dialog that was spoken by a character barely 20 minutes before. I literally asked the film - out loud - "Do you really think I'm so stupid that I needed to hear that line again?" It's sad to see such a good idea for a compelling story completely destroyed by an inexperienced, untalented writer/director with too much power.
Even if you can ignore all the cheap Hollywood tactics used to manufacture conflict, the script is riddled with so many other problems, it's impossible to become engaged long enough to enjoy anything... Long exposition scenes that could have been summarized in one line... Horribly out-of-character dialog... Completely superfluous girlfriend characters vacationing in Greece... Manipulative scenes that are so convenient in the placement of characters and timing that they are completely unbelievable. Add in a musical score filled with sappy, over-sympathetic violin melodies that destroy every mood that the movie was so careful to ALMOST construct, and it seems as though the film's intent is to dare you to become engaged.
The worst part is that The Hunting Party tells a story of a tragic conflict and genocide that NEEDS to be heard by every American, but the film is so bad at conveying its message, it betrays the memory of those lives lost. This film will not reach the audience it should, it will not touch the hearts that need changing, it will not come close to opening enough minds to possibly prevent another genocide in the future.
Even in its last moments, the film tries too hard to draw parallels and lay shame upon the inactive parties of the U.N. and the world's indifference to atrocities... While flashing "Where Are They Now?" title cards of the various characters in the last shots of the movie, Richard Shepard (with great and smarmy righteousness), goes above and beyond any notion of responsible storytelling by adding the idea that the U.N. and other related countries were unable to find the masterminds of the genocide in Bosnia because they were perhaps too busy trying to find Osama Bin Laden. This suggestion is so ridiculous, it smacks the face of every life destroyed by this war.
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