Language: English
Of all the institutional baddies, Big Pharma best lends itself to universally loathsome villainy. Nearly all big businesses flout regulatory norms, dodge taxes and bribe public officials. But those who prize profit over people and game the system to keep life-saving drugs expensive deserve a special place in hell. Big Bad Pharma truly is a generic villain with brand-name notoriety. In Mission: Impossible 2, the fictional Biocyte Pharma developed a virus to create a market for its cure. In The Constant Gardener, a company developed a TB drug, tested it on Kenyans dying from HIV, and covered up its lethal side effects by ordering a hit on the activist and doctor who found out. (John le Carré in fact based the novel on Pfizer’s antibiotic trials which killed Kenyan children in the ‘90s.) Harrison Ford’s doctor in The Fugitive too contended with hit men for blocking the approval of a drug.
The new Netflix movie Sweet Girl feeds on this paranoia and distrust of Big Pharma. A company led by a Martin Shkreli-type sleazebag pulls a cancer drug from the market to increase profits with a pay-for-delay strategy. Meaning the company paid off generic counterparts from bringing low-cost alternatives to market — and thereby ensuring higher prices for its branded drug. It’s diabolically devious. Seeking justice for his cancer-stricken wife whose life was cut short as a result of it is Ray Cooper (Jason Momoa), and his daughter Rachel (Isabela Merced).
Revenge is a primitive urge in response to grief. The resulting eruption of pent-up anger has allowed many an action hero to exhibit his “very particular set of skills.” In what is his debut feature, Brian Andrew Mendoza directs that anger at an amoral institution. Let’s face it: to challenge a towering figure like Momoa, mere individuals aren’t enough. You need an institution. The misdeeds of BioPrime, its CEO Simon Keeley (Justin Bartha) and his Indian partner Vinod Shah (Raza Jaffrey) no doubt needed a muckraker. But the Vice investigative reporter (Nelson Franklin) who attempts to expose the company is killed within the first act. So, any penetrating insight into the culture which allows such profit-driven systems to thrive is circumscribed by the film’s straightforward get-even ambitions.
Revenge won’t come easy of course. It never does. Taking on Big Pharma puts Ray and Rachel in the crosshairs of a relentless assassin (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo). Also on the hunt is FBI agent Sarah Meeker (Lex Scott Davis), who proves to be an unexpected grief therapist.
Momoa sure burns a lot of Khal-ories in the ensuing rampage. Merced too matches him in intensity, breaking off from her most famous a-Dora-ble turn.
Mendoza accommodates cutesy dad-knows-best moments alongside the beat ‘em up to establish a believably relaxed rapport between Momoa and Merced. A flashback to happier times shows the Cooper family camping and singing Guns N’ Roses. 'Sweet Child o’ Mine' becomes shorthand for intimacy. These scenes provide the necessary emotional impetus for the wrath that follows. Ray and Rachel both have MMA training, and it sure comes in handy. An iron fist in a velvet glove, Rachel is just as keen to fight alongside her dad. Then comes a third-act rug-pull so ludicrous it feels like we’re in a dire parody. It undoes any goodwill the film had built up to that point, and recasts the whole story in a new light. If the misleading title hadn’t already, this blindsiding will surely leave a bitter aftertaste. It even offsets the simple consolatory pleasures of watching a dad and daughter fight against the system.
The film is redeemed partially by the dynamics of this dad-daughter team-up. Action movies are full of pissed-off patriarchs taking on bad guys and saving daughters in distress. It is the father’s worst nightmare and ultimate fantasy. There’s no better excuse or justification for bloodlust than the threat to children. It’s the breeding ground for an entire Luc Besson sub-genre. Daughters are constantly at peril, and dads are always charging to the rescue. Take the Taken franchise for instance. Liam Neeson’s daughter keeps getting abducted, and the abduction is a mere contrivance for wish-fulfilment violence. Sweet Girl is anti-Taken in that way because the daughter is not just an afterthought. Rachel is on equal footing with her dad. She has been trained to fight, perhaps not as single-mindedly as Eric Bana trains Hanna. But she can more than hold her own.
The trouble is the action isn’t quite coherently staged. The rapid-fire editing chops the set pieces into smash-and-bash confetti. The narrative employs some gear changes mid-way, hoping to build momentum with a car chase and another chase to the roof of a baseball stadium. Alas, even they’re too pedestrian to liven things up. Behind the wheel is a director and trio of writers (Philip Eisner, Gregg Hurwitz and Will Staples) with no action movie instincts whatsoever.
Toggling between a subversion of the ‘70s man-against-the-system conspiracy thriller and a grief-propelled payback actioner, Sweet Girl sure has its heart in the right place. Its head is unfortunately boxed in by the Netflix algorithm. The streaming platform has become a trash yard for this kind of broad-ish, B-movie-ish action distractions. Despite the notable stars, they all kind of glue together into one expendable trash mound.
Rating: 1
source https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/sweet-girl-movie-review-jason-momoa-isabela-merced-clash-against-big-pharma-in-shoddy-netflix-actioner-9902041.html
