One of the more elaborate and creative titles in movie history The Man is yet another anti-buddy-cop flick--a grain of sand on a desert at this point. The story revolves around Special Agent Derrick Vann (Jackson) who is out to get the man (get it?) that killed his partner. But a case of mistaken identity leads him to Andy Fidler (Eugene Levy) a chatty dental supply salesman with too many questions. Of course it's not match made in heaven. Vann and Andy's contrasting personalities--Vann's is hard-edged and no-nonsense; Andy's is affable to a fault--set into motion constant obstacles to overcome and more importantly the obligatory hijinks. Andy's nice-guy clumsiness leads them to the killers and then invariably away from the them. It also drives Vann crazy but he knows that Andy is a necessary evil if he wants to pin the bad guys. Ultimately what started off as (comedic) hatred for one another winds up mutual respect. Can you say sequel? Neither can we.
Jackson yells scowls furrows his brows evokes his Pulp Fiction cool (briefly) and yells some more. No doubt he can yell with the best of 'em and even the granddaddy of yellers Al Pacino would be proud of this performance. The yang to Vann's yin of course is Levy's Andy. The two actors sure did their best to cultivate the most divergent characters possible and at least to that end they succeed. There is an engaging interplay between the two but it's just been done so many times. On his part Levy has now gone from playing one crazy kook after another in Christopher Guest's offbeat-but-hilarious comedies to almost dare we say leading-man status. But unfortunately as a character actor he is much more enjoyable and his talents better utilized when he isn't in every scene.
Director Les Mayfield has a history of making minor hits out of bad movies. He did so with 1999's Blue Streak 1997's Flubber and 1992's Encino Man (yes one man's guilty pleasure is another man's fruit of his labor). But his luck too might've run out with The Man. You can just see the desperation. When the fart jokes are the movie's best laughs it's safe to say you're in trouble. Fart jokes aside there are at most three genuinely funny scenes in the film for those who haven't yet dozed off. The director and writer clearly choose to play it safe in every facet. In fact the infants bawling in the front row are doing so because they too feel like they could've seamlessly written and directed The Man--and on a smaller budget.
Psychiatric nurse Maggie O'Connor (Kim Basinger) raises her drug-addicted sister's baby who grows up to be a girl with "special" gifts like the ability to rock a dead bird back to life. When Cody turns 6 her mother returns to claim her. The trouble is mom is now married to Eric Stark (Rufus Sewell) leader of a Satanic cult masquerading as a self-help group. Stark wants Cody to use her powers for the "dark side " and will kill her if she refuses. Aunt Maggie enlists the aid of FBI agent John Travis (Jimmy Smits) to help her track down and save Cody.
Basinger 's passive bearing and scrubbed-down glamour seem out of place in the dingy New York settings. When Stark's snarling teenage-runaway groupies attack her they seem as angry at her smooth blond coif as anything else. Sewell does what he can with lines like "death would be a kinder fate" and "she will be ours" (this last line uttered while practically shaking his fist at the heavens). Vastly underused is Smits whose all-talk-and-no-action FBI agent wouldn't have lasted a day in "NYPD Blue's" precinct.
Although director Chuck Russell captures a rich textured look and lays on the ghoulish special effects (a river of red-eyed rats ominous whispers wraithlike demons) "Bless the Child" doesn't generate any real chill. It's not helped by the script which throws in every clich‚ possible about angels demons hellfire and brimstone. There's no avoiding comparison with "The Sixth Sense " the success of which surely must have put some heat under this project. Unfortunately it's a little too cooked.