Been There, Dumb That
An old proverb espouses that there are no new stories, only different ways to tell them. Another oft-said quote delineates the difference between good and great art as a simple matter of how adept a thief the artist is at borrowing from his contemporaries. From between these moist loins of storytelling standards slipped the mongoloid baby known as the cliche, French for "A tedious overused idea, unlike the fries we made that oppose freedom." Originally used to describe anything not wearing a black beret and neckerchief or smoking thin black cigarettes, the term is now bandied about by critics who pigeonhole movies as Frankenstinian mounds of their influences ( "Think Die Hard meets The Rock on crack having a gangbang orgy with Pulp Fiction as E.T. watches from behind a one way mirror while masturbating"). The emerging problem cinematic redneck metaphor-laden speech aside, the cliche is often vilified as ham-handed lazy filmmaking, cueing a plot device as original and wild as a game of Mouse Trap; which, as far as I can tell, was made into a series of movies called Final Destination. When the audience can outthink the story's progression long enough put down their crying babies talking on cellphones long enough to shout advice to the screen, the movie has woefully fumbled its suspension of disbelief.

Yes, the cliche can be thought of as the maid of the ignorant, helping people who don't have time to find out about anything to organize life into neat little piles of stereotypes. This diatribe would cue the part whereupon I explain that I'm far above that type of thing, and I don't use or tolerate anyone who uses cliches.

And that would be a boldfaced lie, because I absolutely love Wasabi.

Who's Your Daddy

"You're no Natalie Portman, but you'll do."

Hubert Fiorentino is a badass man who's having a bad life. As the toughest cop in France (he'd have to be, with that name) he's put on two months' 'vacation' for his violent dealings in taking down a would-be gang of bank robbers and injuring the Chief of Police's son in the process. However, this workaholic hard case has a sore spot: the disappearance of his wife nearly 20 years ago. Shortly, he recieves a plot point -- pardon me, a phone call -- telling him that his long-estranged spouse is now one of the dearly departed. Her will asks him to return to her native Japan to take care of her funeral arrangements. To Hubert's surprise, her estate includes the flame-tempered and flame-haired 19-year-old Yumi Yoshimodo - his daughter, who was mutually unaware of her French father. While trying to keep the baby's daddy drama on the down low to avoid 2 decades' worth of child support payments, Hubert's sleuthing into his wife's mysterious death leads him into a collision course with the Yakuza over some stolen cash, with Yumi caught in the middle. Sadly for them (and lucky for the audience), the Japanese mafia's screwing with the one Frenchman who skipped his surrender lessons at school...

Hot Sh*t

Dance Dance RenoLeon.

Now let me borrow a cliche from your mother besides the one about you being adopted - roll your eyes at me, and I'll roll your head on the floor. What may seem like the Franco-Japanese collaboration to make Cop And A Half is actually probably one of the best ways to kill an hour and a half short of having sex and watching this movie...but that's rather difficult; and in my case, impossible. Featuring the first collaboration between director Luc Besson and actor Jean Reno since the landmark Leon: The Professional, this puts a desperately needed hit on the ethnic stereotype-swapping Rush Hour formula with a balance of action and comedy that's actually funny. You may know the destination as soon as Hubert pulls out his super six-shooter or puts up his dukes (each punch or bullet sends black-clad baddies flying backwards like cannon fire), but the fun's all in the journey. Especially with curves provided by the lovely Ryoko Hirosue as the yummy Yumi. With her style of dress like a seizure escaped from a Pokemon cartoon, she's certainly no Mathilda - arelief to those worried about feeling like statutory rapists since Queen Amidala was hardly of legal age in Leon. And while contrived - Hubert's 'comic relief' sidekick and the main villain are synonymous with the word in this case - the movie is by no means conventional. And should you not crack a smile at Reno let alone crack up, you might as well turn in your humanity at the counter when you return the rental. He not only teaches his surrogate daughter the proper pronunciation of 'holes' in French and squares off against mob M.I.B.s in a mall, a golf course, and an arcade; he even takes on a DDR machine. And did I mention the bank robbers from earlier were a trio of drag queens?

Spice, And Everything Nice

6-Iron Samurai.

The scene where Reno lays down kung fu against these To Wong Foo rejects is a delight to be sure, but the bizarre visual of Jean Dirty Dance-Dancing is the film's heart - pitching a wicked curveball at the cliche of cross-cultural comedy. Even in predictable moments it's still sly and charming: thank the deity of your choice that Besson decided not to borrow the boring parts from the genre. Though the English dub should be avoided at all costs (Reno and Hirosue provide their own voices, but the rest of the cast will cause you to claw at your ears like there's candy inside your head, a fitting punishment for non-subtitling snobs), this flaw hardly keeps Wasabi from cooking. It's not trying to change the world, just be entertaining. And honestly, doesn't Leon deserve the simple cliché of a happy ending after Just Visiting, Rollerball, and Godzilla?