If everything had gone as planned, Gotti could have just vanished quietly into the night, without anyone even knowing it existed. Lionsgate knew the mob film was a disaster of epic proportions, so they tried to silently shuffle it to their VOD unit. Iconic star John Travolta, reportedly convinced he could win an Oscar for his portrayal of New York crime boss John Gotti, was having none of Lionsgate's plans. He wanted a theatrical release, a Cannes premiere, an Oscar campaign- all the fanfare. Courtesy of Vertical Entertainment and MoviePass Ventures, Gotti has now arrived in theaters as the best unintentional comedy of 2018, saddled with the dreaded 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and a social media team that seems to believe they're supposed to imitate a mobster online.
Make no mistake, this film is every bit as bad as you've heard. Directed by Kevin Connolly of Entourage fame, Gotti is a gangster biopic that is as incomprehensible as it is utterly hysterical. Half of the "story" is so incoherent that it felt like someone hit shuffle on a series of scenes, and the other half made me laugh so hard that I spit out my gum for fear of choking. The length of a marathon even at 104 minutes and incompetently directed and written on every conceivable level, there's barely a redeeming quality in sight here. Anchored by what might just be the two worst performances of the year from John Travolta and Spencer Rocco Lofranco, Gotti is the kind of terrible movie that you have to see to believe.
First of all, one of you can expect me to summarize this movie. It can't be done. Not a chance. Dare I say.....forget about it. I didn't even know it was possible to make a gangster film that's so convoluted, so messy, so devoid of a consistent narrative that it is largely impossible to tell what is happening at any given time. It is a series of random moments from the life of John Gotti, stitched together by a couple of fast-forwards from the end of his life. Our first encounter with the mobster takes place sometime in the 1970s, right before he becomes a "made man." He has a big family, but his life is a revolving door in and out of prison.
His son, John Gotti, Jr. (Lofranco), is entering the military academy, but he just wants to be like his old man. We also meet Gotti's wife, Victoria (Kelly Preston), who mostly just stands around and yells at her husband from time to time. She also cries hysterically and pops pills like crazy after their youngest son is killed in a freak accident, two plot lines that are never referenced again later in the film. There's also an assortment of different mobsters and tough guys, played by actors who all seem to be doing their best impression of an Italian accent. The only way you can tell them apart is because their names pop up on the screen. Eventually, the plot kicks into high gear when Gotti organizes the assassination of Paul Castellano, the head of the Gambino crime family. Gotti becomes the boss and the real life Godfather of New York. But as you know if you've ever seen a mob movie, what goes up must come down.
If the aim of a biopic is to provide some insight and perspective into the life of an important figure, then Gotti is the worst biopic ever made. Beyond failing to find a consistent narrative in the mobster's life, it can barely provide a cohesive characterization of the man who supposedly ran New York. In one of the movie's already infamous lines, Travolta's Gotti tells us in the final scene of the film that we wouldn't see another guy like him if we lived to be 5,000. That line is inherently funny, especially when spoken in Travolta's honestly shocking attempt at an Italian accent. But it also.....makes no sense? The film has no justification for Gotti's sweeping claims of influence and one-in-a-million brilliance. This little bit of meta strangeness would be smart and funny if director Connolly and screenwriters Lem Dobbs and Leo Rossi were taking a satirical look at a guy who fashioned himself as "the boss," but the film seems to actually agree with Gotti's claims of immense self-importance.
It probably isn't all too surprising that a movie made with the close participation of the Gotti family is pro-Gotti, but it's still a little shocking to see it all play out. It's still less shocking than the actual ineptitude of the storytelling itself, which is alternatively maddening and hilarious. Okay, so it's mostly hilarious. Many of the film's lines have already been recited to death on Twitter, and it isn't hard to see people assembling for midnight screenings of this movie in a few years. Stacey Keach's listing of the five boroughs, the completely wrong-headed line Travolta rattles off after the death of Gotti's son, basically every single thing Travolta does in this movie- these are jaw-dropping, mystifying, undeniably uproarious moments.
But what's most impressive might be the movie's accidental sense of comic timing, which makes it almost feel like a parody of a mob movie at a certain point. Every single time a new mobster enters the plot, their name flashes across the screen in the most subtly hilarious way possible. All of these characters blend together to the point that it's impossible to distinguish one from the other, and they all have delightfully stupid names like "The Chin" or "Gaspipe." But it's almost like Connolly thinks that putting the names up on the screen will help the audience remember these characters, like we're taking notes on who the players are in this labyrinth of a plot. Gotti's macho bravado and complex web of characters create a movie so dumb that it feels like an insult to the genre.
To be honest, whatever I write in this review won't do justice to the depths of Gotti's unbelievable awfulness. This is a movie that all true movie lovers must witness for themselves, just to see a stark reminder of what happens when cinema goes wrong. I saw someone compare it to Tommy Wiseau's infamous The Room, but I think that comparison is unfair to The Room. This is a movie that had the involvement of incredibly talented people, including an actual icon of American cinema in John Travolta. The fact that his steadfast belief in Gotti's own Oscar-caliber genius accidentally made it the most lambasted film of 2018 is both baffling and deeply sad. Initially, you might feel a little bad when you're cackling at people who are taking themselves seriously at every turn. But Gotti wears you down with its moronic lack of cohesion to the point that laughter is the only way to stay sane, the only way to process this mobster nightmare. I honestly don't know what happened here, but it was a twisted delight to watch a movie crumble in front of my very eyes.
THE FINAL GRADE: F (0/10)
Images: Vertical Entertainment
Make no mistake, this film is every bit as bad as you've heard. Directed by Kevin Connolly of Entourage fame, Gotti is a gangster biopic that is as incomprehensible as it is utterly hysterical. Half of the "story" is so incoherent that it felt like someone hit shuffle on a series of scenes, and the other half made me laugh so hard that I spit out my gum for fear of choking. The length of a marathon even at 104 minutes and incompetently directed and written on every conceivable level, there's barely a redeeming quality in sight here. Anchored by what might just be the two worst performances of the year from John Travolta and Spencer Rocco Lofranco, Gotti is the kind of terrible movie that you have to see to believe.
First of all, one of you can expect me to summarize this movie. It can't be done. Not a chance. Dare I say.....forget about it. I didn't even know it was possible to make a gangster film that's so convoluted, so messy, so devoid of a consistent narrative that it is largely impossible to tell what is happening at any given time. It is a series of random moments from the life of John Gotti, stitched together by a couple of fast-forwards from the end of his life. Our first encounter with the mobster takes place sometime in the 1970s, right before he becomes a "made man." He has a big family, but his life is a revolving door in and out of prison.
His son, John Gotti, Jr. (Lofranco), is entering the military academy, but he just wants to be like his old man. We also meet Gotti's wife, Victoria (Kelly Preston), who mostly just stands around and yells at her husband from time to time. She also cries hysterically and pops pills like crazy after their youngest son is killed in a freak accident, two plot lines that are never referenced again later in the film. There's also an assortment of different mobsters and tough guys, played by actors who all seem to be doing their best impression of an Italian accent. The only way you can tell them apart is because their names pop up on the screen. Eventually, the plot kicks into high gear when Gotti organizes the assassination of Paul Castellano, the head of the Gambino crime family. Gotti becomes the boss and the real life Godfather of New York. But as you know if you've ever seen a mob movie, what goes up must come down.
If the aim of a biopic is to provide some insight and perspective into the life of an important figure, then Gotti is the worst biopic ever made. Beyond failing to find a consistent narrative in the mobster's life, it can barely provide a cohesive characterization of the man who supposedly ran New York. In one of the movie's already infamous lines, Travolta's Gotti tells us in the final scene of the film that we wouldn't see another guy like him if we lived to be 5,000. That line is inherently funny, especially when spoken in Travolta's honestly shocking attempt at an Italian accent. But it also.....makes no sense? The film has no justification for Gotti's sweeping claims of influence and one-in-a-million brilliance. This little bit of meta strangeness would be smart and funny if director Connolly and screenwriters Lem Dobbs and Leo Rossi were taking a satirical look at a guy who fashioned himself as "the boss," but the film seems to actually agree with Gotti's claims of immense self-importance.
It probably isn't all too surprising that a movie made with the close participation of the Gotti family is pro-Gotti, but it's still a little shocking to see it all play out. It's still less shocking than the actual ineptitude of the storytelling itself, which is alternatively maddening and hilarious. Okay, so it's mostly hilarious. Many of the film's lines have already been recited to death on Twitter, and it isn't hard to see people assembling for midnight screenings of this movie in a few years. Stacey Keach's listing of the five boroughs, the completely wrong-headed line Travolta rattles off after the death of Gotti's son, basically every single thing Travolta does in this movie- these are jaw-dropping, mystifying, undeniably uproarious moments.
But what's most impressive might be the movie's accidental sense of comic timing, which makes it almost feel like a parody of a mob movie at a certain point. Every single time a new mobster enters the plot, their name flashes across the screen in the most subtly hilarious way possible. All of these characters blend together to the point that it's impossible to distinguish one from the other, and they all have delightfully stupid names like "The Chin" or "Gaspipe." But it's almost like Connolly thinks that putting the names up on the screen will help the audience remember these characters, like we're taking notes on who the players are in this labyrinth of a plot. Gotti's macho bravado and complex web of characters create a movie so dumb that it feels like an insult to the genre.
To be honest, whatever I write in this review won't do justice to the depths of Gotti's unbelievable awfulness. This is a movie that all true movie lovers must witness for themselves, just to see a stark reminder of what happens when cinema goes wrong. I saw someone compare it to Tommy Wiseau's infamous The Room, but I think that comparison is unfair to The Room. This is a movie that had the involvement of incredibly talented people, including an actual icon of American cinema in John Travolta. The fact that his steadfast belief in Gotti's own Oscar-caliber genius accidentally made it the most lambasted film of 2018 is both baffling and deeply sad. Initially, you might feel a little bad when you're cackling at people who are taking themselves seriously at every turn. But Gotti wears you down with its moronic lack of cohesion to the point that laughter is the only way to stay sane, the only way to process this mobster nightmare. I honestly don't know what happened here, but it was a twisted delight to watch a movie crumble in front of my very eyes.
THE FINAL GRADE: F (0/10)
Images: Vertical Entertainment
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