She Blows!
Although Patrick Stewart turns in a riveting and heart-felt performance as the revenge-driven Ahab, there is no denying that this movie stinks as bad as yesterday's blubber.
It's too bad that a project this ambitious could not have been turned over to an old sea salt like James Cameron. Although, truth be told, Cameron probably would have quintupled the budget with his salary alone. The world deserves a modern big screen treatment of this classic tale. Too bad this is what we got.
There is nothing wrong with the acting. Henry Thomas (yes, E.T.'s Henry Thomas) gives a noble performance as Ishmael. Gregory Peck makes a more than worthwhile cameo as the fire and brimstone-spouting Father Mapple. But once the Pequod sets sail, it's time to look for a lifeboat.
For a film that obviously spent a lot of time and money shooting in worldwide locales with first-rate actors on a gorgeous - if not overly decorated - period ship, somebody severely dropped the ball in the post-production department. Dropped the ball, stuck a harpoon in it and then dumped it overboard.
Underwater shots are laughable, computerized sperm whales breach like marlins and the only real special effects prop used (a high school-project whale tail) is about as convincing as a cardboard light-sabre.
The film is hacked together for television commercial inserts and has all the artistic pacing of a spooked horse. The anticlimactic ending turns Ahab's most powerful speech ("From Hell's heart, I stab at thee...") into an uncomfortable afterthought. And the seventeen dollars that appeared to be left for the special effects make for the most cringe-worthy ship sinking ever put to film.
Call me Ishmael. Call me whatever you want. Just call me when it's over.