Genre: Drama, Thriller

Paparazzi

Directed by Paul Abascal

Produced by Mel Gibson,

Bruce Davey, Stephen McEveety

Starring Cole Hauser, Tom Sizemore,

Dennis Farina, Daniel Baldwin

Classification: PG

Rating: *

Enough of that turn-the-other-cheek stuff. With his new revenge flick, Paparazzi, producer Mel Gibson goes after the infidels who would crucify action-movie stars.

Yeah, that's right -- the press! Mel would know about media crucifixions. His last film, The Passion of the Christ, excited op-ed tantrums throughout the liberal press. Critics complained that by offering the world a sympathetic Pontius Pilate and a coven of hissing Jew Jesus-haters, Gibson was doing Goebbels' work.

The blue-eyed good guy in so many action movies never flinched. The film is gospel, a smiling Gibson maintained in countless TV interviews. "Matthew was there at Jesus's Crucifixion. John was there."

And now Gibson's production company is here with a more emphatic response to the star's critics. Paparazzi is the story of another besieged martyr. Bo Laramie is an action-movie star -- a simple man who has come to Hollywood to grab Evil by the scruff of the neck and toss Him through easy-break windows onto waiting airbags.

Bo (Cole Hauser) has one big problem though. Paparazzi. The shutter-buggers snap nude pix of the superstar by the pool. Lie about his wife. Harass his boy. And when Bo regular-guy smacks one of them, just bops him in the kisser, the little pissant (Tom Sizemore) goes crying to his lawyer.

First Amendment! First Amendment!

Then the punks recklessly pursue the Laramies in speeding cars down a busy street, shooting with flashes, purposely blinding them. And when Bo crashes, the vultures fly from their cars, snapping more photos.

Cut to Bo in the hospital. He's fine. Features as well chiselled as his can take the odd scuff mark! But the doctor has bad news about his wife.

"She's in recovery. I had to remove her spleen. Your boy's stable. His vitals are good. But comas are a tricky thing . . .."

And does Bo finally get some support from Hollywood? Maybe a "buck up, Tiger!" from the cultural elite?

He does not. Studio lawyers want him to lay off the press and wonder when he's going to get back to work. "It's not as if you were hurt," one complains.

Next scene, Bo's court-appointed shrink wants the action star to keep a journal. Maybe he can get in touch with his inner Bo. As soon as the actor exits her office, he tosses the notepad into the garbage next to her next patient, who happens to be . . . Mel Gibson.

That last one is a good joke for sure. But what follows is a humourless revenge fantasy that is as grubby and dispiriting as any Charles Bronson Death Wish flick from the 1970s. Worse, Paparazzi lacks even the pulp fury that elevates crummy action films into a half-way absorbing spectacle.

Rookie director Paul Abascal watches as opposed to participates in the action. There is no energy here. No sense of movie invention or fun. Bo's relentless hunting down of the paparazzi plays out like widescreen TV car commercials.

You can usually tell how good action movies are by how much care the filmmakers lavish on the bad guys. Paparazzi spends no effort on making the evil pressmen interesting. Tom Sizemore and Daniel Baldwin are simply grunting pigs led to slaughter.

The film even lacks professional continuity. After orchestrating Bo's auto mishap, Sizemore's character takes his date home and -- boom -- she's sobbing, yelling at him for having taken advantage of her.

"If you go running to the police, I'll give the tape to your father, the congressman," Sizemore hisses.

What the hell just happened? Presumably, producer Mel was put off by a randy sex scene in a late edit. There are other holes in the movie, all of which might explain why Paparazzi comes in well under an hour and a half. It would be accurate and fair to say this ripped bag of garbage is 82 minutes too long, rather than 15 minutes short.