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Wonderland
(2003)
Dir: James Cox
In The Doors, Val Kilmer made for a more palatable and believable Jim Morrison than the Lizard King himself. His performance was beyond hefty channeling. He practically made Morrison’s bullshit poetry come across transcendental. While Kilmer habitually finds himself in some of the shittiest movies ever to blip at the Cineplex, he at least makes a point of giving his characters the trademark dose of high-wattage, dissonant intensity. Case in point, Kilmer’s portrayal of ill-fated, uber-cock, John Holmes in Wonderland. Kilmer inflates his fried Holmes with so much gusto, paranoia and swagger that you almost start to sympathize with the little fucker. Anyone who’s seen Wad (a documentary about Holmes that is included in the DVD version of Wonderland) knows that Holmes had only narcissism and paranoia at his disposal. Narcissism, paranoia and a pony cock. The real Holmes was molester-strength creepy, Don-Knotts goofy-looking and about as reliable as, well, Jim Morrison. If it weren’t for his big dick, Holmes would’ve been lucky to be a shoe salesman. But Kilmer goes for broke, making the guy into a smoldering, charismatic superstar. The movie centers around the Wonderland Avenue murders. A particularly gruesome set of homicides that Holmes’ gargantuan drug problem spurred on, and to which he may have been complicit. Kilmer gives the shitbag a little bit of Elvis and a whole lot a sweat. He is really working for his paycheck, which ultimately makes the movie so ironic. He’s acting his ass off as a porn star, and is surrounded by a supporting cast that is giving textbook porno performances. It’s like they’re all stoned, reading directly off of cue cards and trying not to giggle. Probably the worst of the lot is Lisa Kudrow, who plays Holmes’ estranged wife. Her delivery of one absurd line in particular--something along the lines of, “what did you say to me that day that you showed me your huge cock? Do you remember what you said to me that day?”--gives what should amount to the last piece of rock-solid evidence that there is only one character she’s capable of (Phoe)being. You expect her to suck, but there are some notables fudging their responsibilities here too: actors like Josh Lucas, Tim Blake Nelson and Eric Bogosian who don’t normally give wooden dialogue a lumberjacks’ loving touch. In Wonderland, they all laze about the set, hastily spouting off their lines, like what they’re really waiting for is to suck Holmes’ big, semi-flaccid penis; which is ultimately about all this bimbo of a movie does.
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