Oliver Stone's not-nearly-savage-enough crime drama Discuss this article
Pretend, if you like, that the creative mode you wish Oliver Stone would return to after all these years is the one he occupied for the headache-inducing Natural Born Killers (1994), an instantly dated anomaly. If you can persuade yourself of this bad idea, then the scuzz-violent, pop-opera-drenched Savages is for you.
Narrated in Blake Lively’s slurriest, most wayward-babe growl, the movie feels cool in a strained way. Three tanned Laguna Beach dealers of illegal herbs are our heroes. Soon enough, here come the scary Mexicans, sending our trio spooky emails, snatching up their beloved blonde and generally calling for tough tactics. Stone and his actors make this pulp watchable enough, but he’s a lot more fun when grafting his histrionic nerve onto weightier subjects: presidents, wars, James Woods’s ego. This time, Stone is just sloshing around in the shallow end.
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