Wild, Wild West is a bad, bad movie. In fact, merely saying it's a bad movie is disingenuous. Wild, Wild West almost makes you wonder whether Barry Sonnenfeld and Will Smith were performing a $180 million experiment, to make an incoherent and offensive summer movie, and see whether the public will make it a blockbuster anyway.
What makes it so bad? It's not just the rambling, idiotic script, the lackluster performance of Kevin Kline, nor the histrionic performance of Kenneth Branagh. It's all those things, combined with underlying assumptions that I mistakenly thought had gone out of style: the movie abounds with jokes about blacks and the handicapped, and Salma Hayak seems to have been included in the cast only to display her bare bottom.
A plot summary is largely irrelevant, but here we go: Smith and Kline are U.S. Marshals Jim West and Artemus Gordon, respectively. President Ulysses S. Grant dispatches them to find Branagh, a Confederate General in a wheelchair who has kidnapped the country's most prominent scientists. No twists or surprises here. The heroes merely run around, climbing things, and surviving explosions.
One final note: the movie's credits listed a "hairstylist to Mr. Smith". His unremarkably short haircut is frequently hidden by his cowboy hat, but perhaps his ego is starting to show through.
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