To paraphrase the Bard, does a Demi Moore movie by any other name still smell as sweet?
Perhaps “stinky” would be better than “sweet” — judging by her last cinematic oeuvre, the athletically amazing “Striptease” (which did absolutely nothing for her career and in one stroke revived and then forever destroyed Burt Reynolds’.)
But in fairness I should forebear from “stinky,” I suppose, as I’ve not seen the film I’m talking about. It is, in fact, still in production.
It is so much still in production that, according to the Hollywood press and buzz, the makers of the flick — a sort of war movie with Moore in the Sylvester Stallone Rambo role — cannot decide on a title.
If you’re not yet hep — or do you say “hip” nowadays? — to this project, it’s a film Moore has long hankered to make and stars her as an action-packed female Navy SEAL, those famed undersea demolitions and commando guys typified by celebrated, bearded, macho killer Richard Marcinko, the ex-SEAL who writes all those bloodthirsty wham-pow “Rogue Warrior” books (and is one of my heroes, because, unlike former insurance agent Tom Clancy, he’s the real thing).
Moore so wanted to do this picture that she willingly had her beauteous head shorn to the microscopic length of a boot camp buzz cut, and stripped down for combat action to a form-fitting, military issue, olive, sleeveless T-shirt — such as the military last issued, I think, in World War II, if not World War I.
(Actually, as she started this movie right after “Striptease,” I should probably say she dressed up to a sleeveless T-shirt.)
This movie is also notable because Moore asked her personal president, William Jefferson Clinton, to intercede with the Pentagon and get the Navy’s cooperation on the project. Despite Clinton’s brilliant war record, the Navy declined to cooperate, perhaps because there were and are no female Navy SEALS and they had no idea how to portray one.
And the movie is particularly notable because, though it’s scheduled to hit the screens this fall, they’re not sure what to call it. They were going to title it “Navy Cross” — which, believe me, would have made the Navy cross. Then it was changed, apparently by Moore, to “G.I. Jane.”
The play, of course, is on the term “G.I. Joe,” which was coined by a war correspondent back in World War II, when they were making the kind of T-shirt Moore wears.
But “G.I.,” don’t you know, doesn’t apply to Navy personnel at all. It’s an Army term, standing for “General Issue,” and was applied to World War II and Korean War soldiers.
Happily, the producers then dropped “G.I. Jane,” replacing it with “A Matter of Honor.”
This stunned me. It certainly would have worked as an alternative title for last year’s Meg Ryan-Denzel Washington war movie, “Courage Under Fire,” which was all about honor. That film also had a very complex plot, about woman Army officer (Ryan) who finds herself in a shambles of a combat situation and, though with scarcely a pistol shot, rises (or maybe doesn’t) to the occasion.
Moore’s movie, I think, is merely all about running around in a tight T-shirt and blowing up things.
They dropped “A Matter of Honor,” too, changing it to “In Pursuit of Honor,” and then, probably after 37 meetings, to merely “Pursuit of Honor.”
And now, they’re reportedly looking for yet another title.
Let’s help them out. I’ve already come up with a number of alternative suggestions. And some of them are actually printable.
How about, for example, “Navy Cross Dresser”? After all, isn’t that what Moore is doing in her buzz cut and combat fatigues?
No? How about “SEAL Sister”? Of course, that might be too close to the title of Quentin Tarantino’s Rolling Thunder Pictures release, “Switchblade Sisters.”
Given her performance in “Striptease,” and that other one where she goes to bed with Robert Redford for $1 million, I’m not sure any title employing “Honor” is quite appropriate.
“Ramboette”?
OK, how about “Doughgirl”? Think of all the dough Moore and husband Bruce Willis rake in just from fleecing the hayheads in those Planet Hollywood joints.
Actually, they ought to call the movie simply “Doggy.”
I’m sure the critics will.
