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Some Very Thick Skulls, Jack Mathews, New York Daily News, ‘New York Now,’ Friday, March 31, 2000. Yale secret-society ‘thriller’ never graduates above the boneheaded. THE SKULLS. With Joshua Jackson, Paul Walker, Craig T. Nelson, William Petersen. Directed by Rob Cohen. Running Time: 107 minutes. Area theaters. Rated PG-13: Language, violence. 0 Stars. A disclaimer at the beginning of Rob Cohen’s empty-headed thriller “The Skulls” informs us that there are ancient secret societies at several Ivy League campuses and that at least three Presidents have belonged to one of them. Given the plausibility of what follows, that information is about as useful as knowing the acreage of Kansas before watching “The Wizard of Oz.” “The Numbskulls” is more like it. Despite the suggestion of a dramatic expos, “The Skulls” is an irrational howler from the moment we first see the gothic New Haven structure that is headquarters to the student members of Yale’s most secret society, and to the powerful Skull elders - judges, senators, university provosts - who finance and operate it. How secret can it be, you might ask, considering that there’s a huge symbol of a skull adorning their clubhouse - the same symbol that we later see being branded on the wrists of new members? The Skull initiates - chosen for their career potential or jock status - also are given classic cars, infusions of cash, babe freebies and silver Skull keys the size of street pretzels to wear around their necks. Secret society? These guys would be about as hard to spot as snow geese in Bermuda. Nevertheless, Cohen (“Dragonheart”) and writer John Pogue (“U.S. Marshals”) press on, with the delirious story of Luke McNamara (“Dawson Creek’s” Joshua Jackson), a blue-collar Yalie, pre-law senior and all-America crewman whose dire financial straits makes him vulnerable to an invitation from the Skulls. When the call comes, his pathologically possessive roommate Will (Hill Harper) freaks out, and begins stalking the Skulls for a magazine expos. When Will is found mysteriously hanging from a rope in his room, Luke starts to turn on his new brethren. But who can he trust? The Skulls alumni are like body-snatchers, having infiltrated the university administration, the New Haven Police Department and the judicial and legislative bodies of government. Eventually, Luke has to turn to his childhood friends, a group of resourceful high-school dropouts who, when push comes to shove, do a hell of an impression of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Like guano in a bat cave, the implausibilities pile up until the audience can justify its time and expense only by laughing at the screen. The actors, bless their professional hearts, carry on with straight faces, and one can only hope that they don’t have to bear the symbol of “The Skulls” throughout their careers. With dialogue like this - “Dad, I just killed some guy in the ritual room!” - redemption will come hard.
The National Organization of the Alpha Chapter of Theta Nu Epsilon 1999 - 2009 © All rights reserved.
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