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It must be said from the outset that, although its negative aspects staggeringly outweigh its positive ones, Jimmy Hayward's neo-Western Jonah Hex never wears out its welcome. While other big-studio productions released thus far this summer have been falsely touted as "quick, stupid fun," Jonah Hex, based on the DC Comics series created by John Albano and Tony Dezuniga, is at the very least agile and fully aware of its own shortcomings.
Screenwriters Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor have given us a handful of recent ultra-violent micro-actioners (Gamer, the Crank films) and Jonah Hex shares a similar unhinged, rampaging sense of storytelling. Within the first five minutes of the film, the titular confederate-deserter-turned-bounty-hunter (Josh Brolin) has helped in the execution of his best friend, watched his family and home burned to the ground and has been branded by his erstwhile commanding officer, General Turnbull (John Malkovich).
An empty stomach in need of revenge unleashes Hex from Hell with the newfound ability to talk to the dead, as he roams the South in the wake of the Civil War. Turnbull seeks a mega-ton canon-cum-rocket-launcher -- designed by Eli Whitney, no less -- which causes Hex to make temporary amends with President Grant (Aidan Quinn) in the hopes of hunting down the General and his Brit henchman Burke (the great Michael Fassbender, completely wasted) before a Fourth of July celebration. Beset by nightmarish visions, traitors, and a very willing prostitute played by Megan Fox, Hex races after Turnbull, arriving at an underwhelming climactic battle on a U-boat.
Edited with a meth-head's sense of pacing and shot during what seems like a bad peyote trip, Jonah Hex has the good sense to never even attempt to take its scenario, characters, or creation seriously. The love story is a joke; the violence is bloodless and morally unencumbered; the politics are rusty, uncomplicated and regularly expressed. In its way, Jonah Hex consolidates the truly trashy parts of clunkers like The A-Team, The Losers and (God help me) Clash of the Titans that have been needlessly gussied up in Hollywood structure to look like something slightly more presentable.
Strewn with clutch supporting players (Will Arnett, Lance Reddick and Wes Bentley to name three), the mess director Jimmy Hayward has slapped on the screen is infinitely preferable to those other films, though it's also completely forgettable in its refreshing unpretentiousness. If Neveldine, Taylor, or Hayward could summon any sort of technical efficiency, they might be able to produce something like the wild, cheap thrills of Nimrod Antal. With Jonah Hex, however, their cumulative recklessness is their sole asset.
Screenwriters Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor have given us a handful of recent ultra-violent micro-actioners (Gamer, the Crank films) and Jonah Hex shares a similar unhinged, rampaging sense of storytelling. Within the first five minutes of the film, the titular confederate-deserter-turned-bounty-hunter (Josh Brolin) has helped in the execution of his best friend, watched his family and home burned to the ground and has been branded by his erstwhile commanding officer, General Turnbull (John Malkovich).
An empty stomach in need of revenge unleashes Hex from Hell with the newfound ability to talk to the dead, as he roams the South in the wake of the Civil War. Turnbull seeks a mega-ton canon-cum-rocket-launcher -- designed by Eli Whitney, no less -- which causes Hex to make temporary amends with President Grant (Aidan Quinn) in the hopes of hunting down the General and his Brit henchman Burke (the great Michael Fassbender, completely wasted) before a Fourth of July celebration. Beset by nightmarish visions, traitors, and a very willing prostitute played by Megan Fox, Hex races after Turnbull, arriving at an underwhelming climactic battle on a U-boat.
Edited with a meth-head's sense of pacing and shot during what seems like a bad peyote trip, Jonah Hex has the good sense to never even attempt to take its scenario, characters, or creation seriously. The love story is a joke; the violence is bloodless and morally unencumbered; the politics are rusty, uncomplicated and regularly expressed. In its way, Jonah Hex consolidates the truly trashy parts of clunkers like The A-Team, The Losers and (God help me) Clash of the Titans that have been needlessly gussied up in Hollywood structure to look like something slightly more presentable.
Strewn with clutch supporting players (Will Arnett, Lance Reddick and Wes Bentley to name three), the mess director Jimmy Hayward has slapped on the screen is infinitely preferable to those other films, though it's also completely forgettable in its refreshing unpretentiousness. If Neveldine, Taylor, or Hayward could summon any sort of technical efficiency, they might be able to produce something like the wild, cheap thrills of Nimrod Antal. With Jonah Hex, however, their cumulative recklessness is their sole asset.
