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PAPARAZZI
By Forrest Smith
Paparazzi
is the story of a movie star and his family being harassed and
terrorized by, of course, paparazzi. The paparazzi are the epitome
of evil and like all good stories must be destroyed. The opening
is very Hollywood, star quality handsome man, Bo Laramie, his
beautiful wife Abby, and their eight year old son Zack sharing
quality family time. It's all picture perfect until they make
a stop at a coffee shop on their way to Zack's soccer game, and
Bo is asked to autograph a tabloid magazine with a nude cover
photo of him and Abby.
This
sends Bo into a rage, sets up the story, and brings us to the
question at hand. Is someone famous entitled to privacy, or are
their entire lives up for grabs? It's hard to imagine a life where
you wouldn't be able to go to the store without seeing yourself
on the cover of some sleazy magazine with made-up headlines. Or,
be able to walk down the street without someone wanting your autograph,
or sticking a camera in your face. Maybe this is the reason why
Kurt Russell has attached himself to this project.
After
being confronted with the nude picture, Bo heads for the grocery
store across the way to try and buy up the magazines. Unfortunately,
the magazine racks are too many, and there is no way he can stop
the humiliation. Bo gives up, buys one magazine, and heads to
the soccer game with his family. At the game we're introduced
to the paparazzi scum bags who took the photo we saw on the cover,
Wendell, Rex, Leonard, and Kevin. They almost seem too awful to
be true, with their funny quirks and bad manners. It's like Forrest
Smith, the writer, read too many comic books, or watched an excessive
amount of B movies and forgot which story he was telling. Luckily,
this story element becomes clear at the end, and although it doesn't
save the story, it helps the reader to understand why Bo is so
helpless at the beginning and why the story has a twist at the
end.
At the
soccer game our beautiful famous family is harassed by the paparazzi,
who are shooting video and taking pictures from a near by van.
Bo tries to reason with the paparazzi to stop, but ends up punching
one of them, Rex, when he makes a smart comment about the nude
photo he took. Rex ends up with a bloody nose, Bo gets arrested
and is ordered to get anger management therapy, and pay Rex damages.
The rest of the story is pretty much the same with the paparazzi
attacking Bo and Bo trying to defend his family and himself without
much success until a crash, reminiscent of the Princess Diana
accident, almost kills Bo and family. Zack is left paralyzed,
and Abby loses her spleen and a kidney. This crash feels unrealistic,
as the paparazzi jump out of their cars to take photos. One even
goes as far as to hike up Abby's dress so her underwear is showing!
I don't buy it. I also don't buy Bo going on a revenge killing
spree after talking to his court ordered anger management therapist,
Dr. Kelley. For some reason, I kept thinking about Faye Dunaway
in "The Thomas Crown Affair," a therapist with somewhat
meaningless advice which allows the audience a moment to goggle
at the star.
When
I started the script I was fascinated by the wonderful writing,
the concept of the story, and most of all by the thought of someone
of Kurt Russell's caliber starring. The problem is that a good
concept does not equal a good story, or in this case, a first-rate
script. I had a hard time believing much of the action. My suspicions
were answered at the end of the script when I found out I was
watching (reading-okay, you caught me watching the train wreck
in my head) a film within a film. Two words, bad ending. It's
a cope out for lack of vision in telling the story. I wish I could
feel different, but in my opinion, if Kurt is serious about this
project he should consider an extensive rewrite to this script
before committing. Fans who respect his better work (Tombstone,
Stargate, Backdraft, Overboard, and Big Trouble in Little China)
will appreciate seeing him in a role that allows him to shine,
and does not pigeon hole his acting abilities.
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