‘Lost’ Treasure
Sandra Bullock returns to her rom-com roots for a ludicrous, wholly enjoyable caper cribbed from ’80s nugget ‘Romancing the Stone’.
The Lost City
Directors: Aaron Nee, Adam Nee • Writers: Oren Uziel, Dana Fox, Adam Nee, Aaron Nee
Starring: Sandra Bullock, Channing Tatum, Daniel Radcliffe, Da'Vine Joy Randolph, Héctor Aníbal, Oscar Nuñez, Bowen Yang, Brad Pitt, Stephen Lang
USA • 1hr 52mins
Opens Hong Kong June 16 • IIA
Grade: B
Put an urban, and urbane, professional woman in a jungle with a doltish, charming cad of an escort and watch the sparks fly amid the comedy. Or so goes the thinking. Hey, it worked for 1951’s The African Queen, and it worked for Romancing the Stone in 1984. Of course, the former had John Huston working from a novel by CS Forester, and the latter came along on the heels of Raiders of the Lost Ark and starred the inimitable Kathleen Turner as the romance writer heroine with an overactive imagination; ’80s feminism at its finest. Oh, and it had Eddy Grant on the soundtrack. Yes!
So mix up a little Stone, a little Raiders, maybe some National Treasure, a good dollop of self-deprecating Channing Tatum and a whole lot of Sandra Bullock in her rom-com comfort zone (she can do this in her sleep) and you get The Lost City, just under two hours of mindless, meaningless entertainment that, much to the chagrin of anyone with delusions of film aficionado standing, is amusingly amiable despite itself – and despite you. Filling the shoes of those earlier films is tricky business, but The Lost City slips on like your favourite Sunday afternoon t-shirt. Plus it sits several steps above the boneheaded Jungle Cruise, so kudos.
That fuchsia goes all the way down to the feet
Like every rom-com ever, including Jennifer Lopez’s recent Marry Me, The Lost City ticks all the boxes: Uptight heroine, sassy Black and/or gay friend, dressing down by hunky yet unlikely love interest who compels the female lead to rethink her arrogance/introversion, utterly ridiculous high concept situation that throws our leads together and so on and so forth. No one needs to hear this again. What makes a difference this time around is that both Bullock (who also produced) and Tatum are in tune with how lunactic the proceedings are and really lean into them. Tatum has the sweetheart himbo market locked, largely due to the simple fact that he comes across as having a laugh at his own expense, unlike, say, Ryan Reynolds (Bullock’s co-star in The Proposal), who can’t get out of his own snarky way. Reynolds’ schtick gets tired fast. Tatum not so much. Also? Bullock is 57. Tatum is 42. Fuck yeah, girl!
The action starts with romance writer Loretta Sage finishing her last Lovemore & Dash novel and starting a book tour with her sassy Black (see?) publisher Beth (though Da'Vine Joy Randolph is, in fact, hilarious). Like Tatum, Bullock is happy to have a go at herself, and watching her struggle to get onto a stool in her fuchsia sequin jumpsuit (this is important) will have any woman forced to endure an ungodly outfit on their feet with a hearty “Preach!” She’s kidnapped by eccentric media billionaire Abigail Fairfax (Daniel Radcliffe, definitively answering the question, “Which Harry Potter kid is the best actor?”), who’s convinced she can help him translate the ancient text of the real Lost City of her last book, which he’s located. Alan, who “plays” Dash on her dust jackets, plans a rescue and – hold onto your shorts – love blossoms.
Don’t worry, his shirt magically flies off at some point
There’s something to be said for a movie that take pleasure in staying in its lane, and this most definitely does, even if it’s a little prickly about it. When Alan shuts Loretta down for dismissing her work as schlock, and her fans by extension, it’s a sly meta moment when writers Oren Uziel, Dana Fox, and Adam and Aaron Nee call out the critics and writers (ahem) who consistently belittle and berate rom-coms. Of course, that may have been a fluke, because these films just aren’t that smart. See what I did there?
Joking aside, The Lost City doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel, it doesn’t want to, and it never gets so big for its britches to suppose it can play in the sandbox with Stone. Bullock has always traded on her relatability, and Tatum makes a fine sparring partner. Charismatic leads can take a film like this far. Throw in Randolph, a super-sized cameo from Brad Pitt as a real-life Dash (man, he works that hair), smart pacing, a handful of genuinely funny moments, and a keen sense of purpose by all and it’s the perfect cocktail for Thursday date night (weekends are too fancy) or a short haul flight (should those return). I wonder how they’re going to spin The Jewel of the Nile? — DEK