It’s hard to go into a movie called “Cocaine Bear” without having at least some sense of what you’re getting into. And if you’ve caught even a glimpse of the trailer, it’s even clearer what director Elizabeth Banks and her attractive cast of friends are going for. But no amount of self-awareness can make this schlocky, gore-filled dark comedy as fun as it desperately wants to be. Not even close.

“Cocaine Bear” is a movie that begs to be judged by the “it knows exactly what it is” standard. Sure it has its moments, and Banks tosses out all the rules. But it works so hard at being wild and irreverent that it seems to forget everything else. Stuff like good characters, a remotely interesting story, genuine humor, or even the slightest reason to care about anything we’re seeing. “Just go with it” is sure to be a common response, and I’m happy for those who are able to do it. But I needed more out of Jimmy Warden’s threadbare script.

It’s true that “Cocaine Bear” is open and unapologetic about its intentions (again, just look at its title). And if you stretch it far enough you might get lucky and find an actual theme. But for the most part, whenever the movie departs from its undeniably goofy and entertaining central conceit, the cracks start to show. In other words, whenever the film’s blitzed CGI American black bear isn’t gnawing off human limbs or slicing open abdomens, the movie crumbles.

The story is very loosely based on true events. In December of 1985, former narcotics officer turned drug smuggler Andrew Carter Thornton II (played briefly in the film by Matthew Rhys) was transporting cocaine from Columbia in a Cessna 404. Feeling his plane was overloaded, Thornton began dumping packages of coke and eventually jumped out himself. But his parachute malfunctioned and he fell to his death near Knoxville, Tennessee. Three months later a dead black bear was found in the Chattahoochee National Forest, surrounded by opened packages of blow. It has been nicknamed the Cocaine Bear and is currently on display at the Kentucky for Kentucky Fun Mall in Lexington.

All of that (except the part about the bear dying) takes place within the first two minutes of the movie. From there it’s all make-believe as the coke-craving bear slashes, maims, and mauls a gaggle of bland, disposable characters as it looks for its next fix. And that’s the film’s bread and butter. The problem is, we don’t get much of that at all. I only remember three noteworthy scenes of delightfully over-the-top bear savagery.

That means most of our time is spent stuck with the patently uninteresting and remarkably unfunny human characters. Paper-thin story aside, no one we meet are given an inch of depth and there’s barely a human trait to be found. It’s hard to even refer to them as sketches considering how shallow and fruitless they all are (and I do mean ALL of them). There are some really good names wasted here – Keri Russell, Alden Ehrenreich, Margo Martindale, O’Shea Jackson Jr, Ray Liotta (in his final role). They’re all trapped inside a movie that spends more time aping other ideas that building on its one original one.

Russell plays a mother looking for her daughter (Brooklynn Prince) and her young friend (Christian Convery). Ehrenreich and Jackson Jr play smugglers sent by a drug kingpin named Syd (Liotta) to find and retrieve the cocaine. Martindale plays a forest Ranger while Jesse Tyler Ferguson plays an animal rights activist. Isiah Whitlock Jr plays a police detective trying to bring down Syd’s organization. Through their own simplistic and convenient reasons, all find themselves in the Chattahoochee National Forest with the eponymous bear running wild. And that’s the story. All of it. Seriously.

The bar for “Cocaine Bear” was pretty low meaning this should have been a slam dunk. It could have really went wild with the B-movie schlock. It could have worked great as a Hollywood satire. As it is, everything hinges on the one big joke, and that would be fine except Banks doesn’t do nearly enough with it. That leaves us in the company of a dull and witless collection of human characters, none of whom register as interesting or (more importantly in this case) funny. Their low-rung, force-fed attempts at humor land with a deafening thud. Yet another thing that left me thinking of the many ways that this could have gone better. But hey, at least it “knows exactly what it is”. “Cocaine Bear” is now showing in theaters.

VERDICT – 1.5 STARS

Revisiting “Chinatown” for the first time in years was like digging up a decades-old time capsule and rediscovering everything inside as if it were the first time. I’ve always appreciated “Chinatown”, but perhaps not quite like I should have following my first watch back in the early 1990s. It wasn’t until a second viewing some 15 (ish) years later that the movie really clicked for me. Since then my appreciation has only grown.

I was inspired to rewatch “Chinatown” following the recent release of Sight and Sound magazine’s “Greatest Films of All Time” poll. For those unfamiliar with it, the poll has been taken every ten years since 1952. A select group of film critics and industry insiders are asked to vote for the ten greatest movies of all time. It has generally been a highly regarded poll partly due to the exclusivity of its voting body. But last year brought both controversy and skepticism, with S&S boosting its voters to 1,639 hand-picked participants (there were 145 in the 2002 poll; 846 in 2012). Naturally it resulted in some big changes to list.

But I didn’t revisit “Chinatown” because of its prominent place on the S&S list. No, instead it was because the landmark 1974 classic was booted from the list entirely. On the surface it seems like a mind-blowing omission and a real shock to the poll’s credibility (“The Godfather Part II”, “Rio Bravo”, “Raging Bull” and others also got the boot). So I fired up the film to see if something had changed. Nope, it still hits every mark and impressed me more this time than during any of my previous viewings. Sorry Sight and Sound. You got this one wrong.

“Chinatown” comes from director Roman Polanski, a blemish that alone probably cost the film several votes. But the pure quality of the movie itself stands on its own. As does the exceptional Oscar-winning screenplay from Robert Towne. As does the cool and charismatic lead performance from Jack Nicholson – arguably the best of his career. As does the stellar supporting work from Faye Dunaway and John Huston. As does the period set design and costumes. As does Jerry Goldsmith’s transporting score. I feel like I could go on and on.

Set in 1937 Los Angeles, Nicholson plays a private detective named J. J. “Jake” Gittes. One afternoon a woman (Diane Ladd) identifying herself as Evelyn Mulwray comes to his office. She suspects her husband, Hollis Mulwray (Darrell Zwerling), is having an affair and she wants Gittes to find out. He takes the job and upon investigating learns that Mulwray is the chief engineer at LA’s Department of Water and Power. Gittes starts tailing Mulwray, eventually snapping some photos of him with a young woman – photos that mysterious end up in the newspaper.

The next day Gittes is confronted by the real Evelyn Mulwray (Dunaway) who hits him with a lawsuit. Steamed that he’s been used by someone to disgrace Hollis Mulwray, Gittes and Evelyn cut a deal. He’ll find out who set up her husband, and she’ll drop the lawsuit. Seems simple enough, but of course it’s not. What started as an infidelity case soon gives way to lies, city corruption, and (as in most good noirs) murder. Even worse, there’s something far more sinister underneath it all.

For lovers of classic noirs, watching “Chinatown” is like putting on a soft warm sweater. It fits snugly within the bygone genre and feels right at home next to the many films that undoubtedly inspired it. Yet Polanski and Towne add their own special seasoning which makes this more than just a copy-and-paste experience. Much of it is in the way Polanski plays with POV or how he shoots his sun-baked Los Angeles (DP John A. Alonzo received an Oscar nomination). But it’s also evident in Polanski’s willingness to tinker with genre conventions, to the point that we’re never certain where he’s taking us.

Then you have Towne’s absorbing screenplay. It has a few signature noir movie twists with everything being revealed at the very end (Interestingly, Polanski added some grit to the ending, changing it up in a way that initially frustrated Towne. Later, Towne would admit that Polanski’s climactic finish was the right choice). But there is so much more to Towne’s dense and complex story. He offers a deep and compelling spin on the California Water War and all the political deception and chicanery that went with it.

Towne also does some incredible character work. Written specifically for Nicholson, Gittes is a cynical wisecracking sleuth but with an uncommon sense of decency at his core. Dunaway’s Evelyn is an elegant and high-class femme fatale who does her best to hide her fragility. And of course there’s the devilishly good John Huston playing Evelyn’s wealthy and powerful father, Noah Cross. Towne fleshes them all out through his crackling dialogue and his patient attention to detail. They all have roles to play within his winding story, but they are also given plenty of room to develop.

“Chinatown” spends a lot of time covering a lot of ground, yet it’s surprisingly efficient. There’s simply no wasted scenes, no meaningless lines, and no throwaway moments. And while the disgraced director’s vile, post-“Chinatown” offenses undoubtedly hang over his work, there’s a richness to Polanski’s direction, and I love how he entrusts his audience to follow along. In the end, every facet of great filmmaking can be found in “Chinatown”. And I’m sorry to say it, but it’s hard to take a “Greatest Films of All Time” list seriously that doesn’t include this 1974 classic.

VERDICT – 5 STARS