Why The Naked Gun Is the Unexpected Power Move America Desperately Needs Right Now — Unlock the Shocking Truth!
The plot, such that it is, involves Neeson’s Drebin looking into the seemingly routine death of a brainy engineer in a car accident. Frank suspects foul play. But his blunt-edged lack of self-awareness (not to mention the orgy of destruction he cluelessly leaves in his wake) gets him taken off the case. Neeson makes an eight-course meal out of Frank’s defiance of authority. He’s like Dirty Harry crossed with Wile E. Coyote. So it doesn’t take long for him to go rogue and keep sniffing around after hours. The trail of breadcrumbs leads him to Richard Cane (Danny Huston), a villainous, Muskian tech entrepreneur who employed the car-crash victim. Along the way, he also joins forces (and more, nudge wink) with the victim’s sister, played with vacant, breathy perfection by Pamela Anderson.
Cane’s master plan is to unleash a toxic nerve gas that will turn humanity into a scrum of lawless, primal beasts, leaving civilization to be rebuilt by a star chamber of white, male CEOs. But by now you’ve already guessed (correctly) that none of that matters a bit. The new Naked Gun exists solely to let Neeson’s Frank be a complete boob, break a lot of china, and share his innermost fan theories about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sex and the City. Personally, I would say the movie’s most satisfying highlight was watching the Oscar-nominated star of Schindler’s List deliver the line: “It says here, you got 20 years for man’s laughter…that must have been quite a joke.” As bon mots go, it’s hardly Oscar Wilde. But that doesn’t make its absurdity any less artful.
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