RECO V15/#15
(, min.)(12/8/95)
(M.B.)
New Review
FATHER OF THE BRIDE PART II
D: Charles Shyer; with Steve Martin, Diane Keaton, Martin Short, Kimberly Williams, George Newbern, Kieran Culkin.(PG, 106 min.)
George Banks� life is swell. He�s survived the defection and subsequent, lavish marriage of his daughter to an irritatingly successful and singularly unobjectionable man, lives in a white, picket-fence dream house, truly loves his beautiful wife, and drives a really, really cool car. In other words, George�s only Ford is in his flivver. Until, that is, two bombs drop on his utopia. First, his daughter, Annie, whom his mind�s eye still views as a pigtailed tomboy, announces that she is pregnant. So George, in a desperate effort to combat the feeling of instant antiquity that impending grandparenthood incurs, gets a �bitchin�� new hairdo and seduces his wife in the kitchen on a rainy afternoon, thereby creating (literally) the second explosion to rock his cozy world. Awash in filtered, golden light, Father of the Bride Part II has an air of nostalgia about it � the type that makes the Cold War era seem innocent and carefree and that allows women who have gone through labor and delivery to do it again. At least Nina Banks seems to be ready to do the whole thing over again. George is not so sure. Where Nina sees a mother and daughter skipping dreamily down the street together, George sees a truculent two-year old tossing his double dip cone on the sidewalk. Still, the notion is more embarrassing and inconvenient than it is traumatic. And watching the Banks family cope with it can be fun. The entire cast from Father of the Bride returns for the sequel and they bring with it the familiarity and fondness and downright silliness of a real family. Steve Martin combines his peculiar physical comedy with a pathos that is so genuine and touching that you cannot help but regret that the actor is not a father in real life � it seems such a waste of great dad material. Martin Short is equally endearing as Franck, the haute but not haughty caterer/decorator, and in some ways, his character is a reflection of the movie as a whole. Too tasteful, too opulent, too rosy a picture to be believed; we still can�t help but be charmed by it. Just as the wonderful soundtrack suggests, this affectionate film is like a simple walk down the sunny side of the street � in a very affluent neighborhood. (12/8/95)
2.5 stars (H.C.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Westgate
RECKLESS
D: Norman Ren�; with Mia Farrow, Scott Glenn, Mary-Louise Parker, Tony Goldwyn, Eileen Brennan, Giancarlo Esposito, Stephen Dorff.(PG-13, 92 min.)
Okay; it�s Christmastime and you�re thinking that you just might explode if you watch It�s a Wonderful Life one more time. Although we embrace as a part of our heritage that movie�s lessons about the goodness of humanity, the riches inherent in living a simple, uncelebrated life, and the community virtues practiced by small-town Middle Americans, still� there are just some holiday seasons when Hollywood�s nostalgic vision of the Americana that never was seems nearly as sticky and welcome as another fruitcake. Well, this year you�re in luck because there�s a new antidote just released for market and it goes by the name Reckless. The movie is a grown-up fairy tale that scrapes away some of the tarnished undercoating of the familiar Norman Rockwell image yet leaves the basic structure intact. The story begins on Christmas Eve as Rachel (Farrow) tells her husband Tom (Goldwyn) that the holiday excitement has her in such a state that she is about to die of a �euphoria attack.� Tom begins to sob and remorsefully confesses that in order to stop her incessant chirping, he has taken out a contract on her life and that the hit man is downstairs ready to strike. In a last gesture of kindness, Tom pushes his wife dressed in a flannel nightgown out the second-story window of their suburban home and into the snowy beyond. Thus begins Rachel�s strange adventure through the wilds of America as she searches for the restoration of security and happiness. The odyssey lasts the rest of her life and the people she encounters are many and varied, yet all slightly surreal. It�s here that the movie�s great premise begins to break down. Odd characters and circumstances steadily flood Rachel�s life, but though the movie wants us to see her path as having direct relevance to her past, it�s really little more than a series of quirky situations. The movie�s big question seems to be the discovery of whether the past is something we run away from or toward, as though the answer will resolve all life�s troubles and woes. By the movie�s end, Rachel does reach some kind of resolution and contentment, yet the conclusions she draws from her curious journey are as mysterious as the individual lessons along the way. This fuzzy fairy-tale feel was also evident in Prelude to a Kiss, the last collaboration by filmmakers Norman Ren� and Craig Lucas. As with Prelude to a Kiss, Lucas wrote the screenplay as an adaptation of his stage play and Ren� directed both (as well as Lucas� Longtime Companion script). While these two have been unsuccessful in their development of functional narratives from engaging concepts, other Reckless contributors pick up some of the slack. A terrific cast is held together by a picture-perfect Mia Farrow in a role that seems made for her. Her flannel-gowned, waif-life, slightly whiny but wide-eyed, little princess mien is precisely perfect for this adult fable. Cinematographer Frederick Elmes (Blue Velvet, River�s Edge) creates a warm-toned, Christmas-card look that enhances the movie�s fairy-tale appeal. Reckless wants to take us on a merry sleigh ride that examines the muddy tracks created during the passage but ends up adrift in a silent snow bank. (12/8/95)
2.5 stars (M.B.)
Village
WHITE MAN�S BURDEN
D: Desmond Nakano; with John Travolta, Harry Belafonte, Kelly Lynch, Margaret Avery, Carrie Snodgress, Willie Carpenter, Robert Gossett.(R, 90 min.)
From the Lawrence Bender production company A Band Apart (Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Fresh)comes this seemingly ingenious film that tackles race relations head on, and comes up stunningly flat. Director Nakano�s tale of an America where African-Americans are the majority and the privileged and the white race is the downtrodden and poor so oversimplifies the problems of race relations in America today that it�s intended purpose as a wake-up call, a way to spotlight deteriorating race relations in a new and fresh light, is completely overshadowed by the film�s startling mediocrity and pedantic moralizing. It�s almost as if Ted Turner had resurrected some well-intentioned Twilight Zone and colorized it for the Nineties, diluting the subtleties in favor of the obvious. Travolta plays Louis Pinnock, an average Joe who loses his factory job one day when a random twist of fate leaves his black boss displeased with a triviality. Without the job and the raise he was counting on, Pinnock and his wife Marsha (Lynch) soon lose their home to their black landlord and are effectively down-and-out in Beverly Slums. Pinnock (after a Rodney King-style beating by some thuggish cops) decides to kidnap his employer � the wealthy, casually racist Thaddeus Thomas (Belafonte) � in order to� what? He doesn�t know, really, and neither do we. As the film progresses, with Pinnock displaying the pockmarked urban ghetto he calls home to the bewildered, nervous Thomas, the Twilight Zone aspects multiply, until it�s all you can do to keep from spotting Serling hovering around every corner. Certainly, all involved had only the best of intentions, but that�s no excuse for what can only be called a cinematic trivialization of America�s explosive racial tension. So simple, so broad are White Man�s Burden�s paint strokes � from the gritty camerawork of Pinnock�s mean streets to the burnished opulence of Thomas� home and family � that no real lesson outside of the obviously mundane can be elicited, and that�s a real shame. It�s not so much a flip-flop as it is pure flim-flam. (12/8/95)
2.0 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Highland, Lakehills, Movies 12, Riverside
Still Playing
ACE VENTURA: WHEN NATURE CALLS
D: Steve Oedekerk; with Jim Carrey, Ian McNeice, Simon Callow, Maynard Eziashi, Bob Gunton.(PG-13, 91 min.)
When speaking critically about any of Jim Carrey�s films, there�s only one burning question that really needs to be asked: �Is it funny?� Keeping this in mind, let�s cut right to the chase. If you liked the first installment of the sure-to-be-long-running Ace Ventura series, chances are very good you�ll enjoy the second. The most over-the-top of Carrey�s vehicles, Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls will definitely not win any new converts, but let’s face it, the man�s got plenty of fans already. The plot is pure nonsense � something to do with our heroic pet detective traveling to Africa to recover a sacred albino bat � but it nicely manages to set up a non-stop barrage of silly antics which, when you think about it, is all a �plot� is good for anyway in a Jim Carrey movie. Director Oedekerk, for the most part, has a nice sense of pacing, and also brings a scope that wasn�t in the first film. Occasionally, signs of the film�s on-set production problems seem all too obvious and, by the picture’s third act, the movie has simply exhausted itself. Still, to look too far beyond �Is it funny?� is probably a mistake, especially when one considers that the majority of Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls delivers those huge mass-audience fits of laughter that often leave the next couple of gags unheard or unnoticed. For Carrey, every moment of screen time presents a comic opportunity and every scene is a potential set-piece, so it�s hardly surprising that he wastes no time before letting the jokes fly fast and furious. From the hilarious opening parody of Cliffhanger to Ace�s mid-film wrestling match with a hungry alligator (in a memorable moment, Ace slaps the attacking animal around with its own stubby arms, while reciting that classic childhood taunt, �Quit hitting yourself! Quit hitting yourself!�), Carrey is in top form here, giving a wildly confident, physically draining performance with all the stops pulled out. Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls has its fair share of problems � like the aforementioned third act and the fact that Carrey so monopolizes the screen that his co-stars are often left with nothing to do � but the movie is funny, sometimes side-splittingly so. And that’s all that really matters, isn�t it? (11/17/95)
3.0 stars (J.O.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT
D: Rob Reiner; with Michael Douglas, Annette Bening, Martin Sheen, Michael J. Fox, Anna Deavere Smith, Samantha Mathis.(PG-13, 114 min.)
Although it�s very easy to approach this film with complete cynicism, it is difficult to avoid the appealing love story between Douglas as United States President Andrew Shepherd and Bening as environmental lobbyist Sydney Ellen Wade. With its crackling sexual tension, the relationship between widower President Shepherd and Wade (and in turn the chemistry between Douglas and Bening) admirably does justice to the legacy of Hollywood screen couples from the 1930s and 1940s a la Hepburn and Tracy. Bening�s performance evokes even a bit of comedienne-par-excellence Mary Tyler Moore as she quivers and frets over her initial gaffes with the president. Lest this characterization sound retro-feminist, Bening develops Wade as an equally compelling professional in Washington able to play hardball with the big jerks on Capitol Hill. On the other hand, I worried that Douglas� recent testosterone-laden acting would interfere with my suspension of disbelief. However, Shepherd as the president comes complete with his own minor gaffes, such as having no clue about the names of the various staff who work for and under him. These and other more �humanizing� elements manage to keep Douglas from slipping into Superman mode or playing the white male victim. As for the film�s story, The American President has the mystique factor working in its favor. Assuming that the sets are letter-perfect in terms of their reproduction of the White House and its environs, pretending to watch the President of the United States have a dinner date has its enjoyable voyeuristic moments. While the film does have its share of problems, such as Anna Deavere Smith’s bizarrely awkward performance as press secretary Robin McCall and a somewhat laborious final act, The American President�s rather pointed Capra-esque qualities do their ideological best to create an engaging love story, a kind of Singles for the over-40 set. (11/17/95)
3.0 stars (A.M.)
Arbor, Highland, Lakehills, Movies 12
CARRINGTON
D: Christopher Hampton; with Emma Thompson, Jonathan Pryce, Steven Waddington, Rufus Sewell, Samuel West, Penelope Wilton.(R, 123 min.)
How interesting it is that this compelling film is named for Dora Carrington (Thompson), the English painter who shared an emotionally intense and all-encompassing relationship with famed writer Lytton Strachey (Pryce). Interesting because, although Carrington appears in nearly all of the scenes, we do not really know her apart from Strachey until the last half hour of the film, and, even then, her character seems profoundly influenced by her relationship with him. Additionally, the film�s script is based on Michael Holroyd�s biography of Strachey, with some excerpts taken from Carrington�s journal. Set between World War I and the early 1930s, Carrington marks the debut of screenwriter Hampton (Dangerous Liaisons) behind the camera. Hampton�s film tells the affecting and ultimately tragic story of Carrington and Strachey�s relationship from their initial meeting during the First World War to Strachey�s death in the early 1930s. Strachey�s mistaking the artist for a �ravishing young man� foreshadows the limits of their relationship. An avowed homosexual, Strachey is unwilling to accommodate Carrington�s physical desires, but their relationship develops passionately on other levels. When the two set up house together, they attempt to live an unconventional, honest life away from the restrictive conventions of English society and nearby London. How successful they are in cultivating this life comprises the rest of the film. What makes Carrington so appealing despite its occasional narrative lulls are the performances by Pryce and Thompson. Both warrant praise, but Pryce�s ability to make us grow to like Strachey, an excruciatingly fussy and somewhat self-centered man, is both subtle and powerful. As the wide-eyed painter whose life is lived for another, Thompson�s restrained performance evokes empathy. The acting is enhanced by Denis Lenoir�s camera that captures the charming quality and rich detail of the English homes and countryside in which Carrington and Strachey spend their time together. The film also retains ties to its literary roots through its segmentation into six “chapters” marked by exquisitely decorated title sequences. Additionally, the end titles share screen space with Carrington�s paintings, a collection of art that displays her vivid sense of color and perceptive ability to capture the personality of her subjects. Hampton�s Carrington ends powerfully with the consequences of such a �self-abasing� love echoing throughout the theatre. The price Carrington pays for her love may seem high, but as she tells one character regarding relationships, �You always have to put up with something.� (11/22/95)
3.5 stars (A.M.)
Village
CASINO
D: Martin Scorsese; with Robert De Niro, Sharon Stone, Joe Pesci, James Woods, Don Rickles, Alan King, Kevin Pollak, L.Q. Jones.(R, 178 min.)
That Martin Scorsese is one of the modern masters of cinema is a fact that is reiterated through each of his movies. He always struggles to find new strategies for seeing beneath the surface of things and for new approaches to the telling of stories. Casino, however, cannot be viewed as one of Scorsese�s masterpieces. Yet, while certainly less than successful, I�m reluctant to call it a failure. Because, then, I�d have to revoke my love relationship with the film�s spectacular opening sequence (let�s just say it begins with a magnificent bang). The term �failure� would also negate the novelty of certain shots and scenes, like the overhead shot of Las Vegas that presents the city as a mecca of light in an otherwise barren sea of darkness. Leave it to Scorsese to expose the Vegas gestalt in a new and orignal manner. Eye-opening material like this is peppered throughout the movie. Then, of course, it is always a pleasure to watch De Niro at work, especially when at work in a juicy role like that of Sam �Ace� Goldstein, the Mob�s consummate bookie chosen by the bosses to front their �legit� Vegas casino. Believing in De Niro as a Jew is a bit of a stretch, however he�s good enough that you don�t dwell on how you can take the goy out of Little Italy but�. Better than watching De Niro work alone is the pleasure of watching De Niro working a scene with Joe Pesci, who is cast as Nicky Santoro, the New York muscle brought in to smooth over the casino�s inevitable rough spots. And to answer the question on everyone�s lips – Can Sharon Stone cut it? – well, yes and no. She fares better than any of her previous work might have led you to expect, but no one will ever mistake her for an acting giant. The problems with her characterization can largely be laid at the feet of Scorsese, a filmmaker whose body of work has never evidenced much sensitivity toward his female characters. For every Alice Doesn�t Live Here Anymore and Boxcar Bertha there are dozens of Johnny Boys and Travis Bickles roaming the Mean Streets, dividing women up into the virtuous and the fallen. Stone�s top-of-the-heap casino hustler could be a fascinating character, but in Casino she is simply there to be the object of Scorsese�s affections and subsequent scorn. The story is about what it is like for Ace living with her and living without her; not the other way around. Scorsese depicts the boys� clubs, whether the movie is The Last Temptation of Christ, The Last Waltz, The Color of Money, Cape Fear or GoodFellas. And speaking of GoodFellas, that movie may just be the source of many of Casino�s shortfalls. Casino reminds you in too many ways of the brilliance of GoodFellas, and in a way that dooms Casino to remain in its shadow. It more than just the resonant re-pairings of De Niro and Pesci and novelist/co-scriptwriter Nicholas Pileggi and Scorsese. Structurally, it tries to ape the climactic build-up of GoodFellas, but never quite blasts off as the climax of GoodFellas so viscerally does. Casino never really seems to have a point, and in a movie just a couple minutes shy of three hours, that really becomes a palpable problem. As a whole, the movie does not crap out at the table, but neither does it come up with a fistful of dollars. (11/22/95)
3.0 stars (M.B.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
COPYCAT
D: Jon Amiel; with Sigourney Weaver, Holly Hunter, Dermot Mulroney, William McNamara, Will Patton, Harry Connick, Jr.(R, 110 min.)
Serial killers are in vogue in the movies � witness the popular and critical success of Seven, an exquisite piece of in-your-gut filmmaking if there ever was one. Copycat is also about a serial killer, but it�s too gimmicky to knock you on your ass; you may marvel at some of the narrative turns, but you won�t lose yourself in this movie. The plot wrinkles here are two-fold: a highly intelligent killer who mimics the murders of America�s infamous from the Boston Strangler to Jeffrey Dahmer, and an agoraphobic forensic psychologist who�s unwillingly drawn into helping solve the slayings. It�s an occasionally entertaining ride, although one fraught with numerous logic holes. For instance, why must the stupidity of the police be inversely proportionate to the smarts of the killer? The film�s screenplay offers a couple of genuine surprises � the murderer�s planned piece de resistance is unexpected � but there�s an overall pedestrian feeling about it, particularly in its killer-gets-his ending. In the ostentatious role of the celebrated criminologist who shuts herself off from the world, Weaver perfects the details of her character, down to the constant off-and-on grapplings with a pair of eyeglasses. Hunter is all no-nonsense as a detective investigating the seemingly unrelated murders, but if she isn�t careful, those tics and mannerisms may soon become an acting clich�. Her symbiotic rhythm with fellow detective Mulroney, however, is pretty good; their characters are appealingly in sync with each other. Despite the freshness of their chemistry, most of Copycat feels way too familiar. As its title indicates, it�s lacking in imagination, a movie with too few original thoughts in its head. (10/27/95)
2.5 stars (S.D.)
Great Hills, Highland, Movies 12
THE CROSSING GUARD
D: Sean Penn; with Jack Nicholson, David Morse, Anjelica Huston, Robin Wright, Piper Laurie, Richard Bradford, David Baerwald, Robbie Robertson, John Savage.(R, 117 min.)
Onscreen and off, Sean Penn always makes it clear that he is not one to be trifled with. He brings that same raw intensity to his work as a film director. His seething energy is perfectly suited to the subject matter of The Crossing Guard, which he wrote and directed as his second filmmaking project. The movie stars Jack Nicholson as Freddy Gale, a man whose entire life becomes undone following the hit-and-run death of his young daughter. David Morse co-stars as the unfortunate driver, John Booth (not a terribly subtle name for a murderer). Gale has never been able to get past his grief and anger � emotions that become so overwhelming that they sunder his marriage, poison his relationship with his two young sons, and fill his life with the sole purpose of revenge � but until he can accomplish that mission he passes the time with work, booze, and strippers. The Crossing Guard begins with Booth�s release from prison where he has just completed his sentence for the vehicular homicide years ago. We know that this is the day Gale has been waiting for because the day is dramatically highlighted on his otherwise blank wall calendar. It�s moments like this interspersed throughout the film during which you become all too aware of the na�ve clumsiness of Penn�s visual style, and though it distances you momentarily, the raw emotions of the piece quickly pull you back in. Certainly, one need not be a parent to appreciate the all-consuming dimensions of Gale�s sorrow and rise from the living grave in which he buried himself alongside his daughter. John Booth�s sensitivity to the situation is what we�re not prepared for: He acknowledges that his actions have caused death and irreparable unhappiness to others yet he, himself, is not an unhappy man. The confrontations between the two men are jagged and explosive. Much of the time, The Crossing Guard�s tone is reminiscent of an off-the-cuff Cassavetes film, seeming as though the speeches are impromptu exercises and exorcisms. There is also an inevitable voyeurism that enters the picture due to the presence of Angelica Huston as Gale�s ex-wife Mary. She is the parent who figured out a way to move forward with her life despite her grief, a fact that irks Gale and is the source of continuing rows between the former partners. Nicholson seems to spring into his most recognizable manic acting mode during these disputes, and we can only speculate about what personal depths these former lovers, Nicholson and Huston, have drawn upon to reach such searing verisimilitude. Such reflections also come into play during (Penn�s ex-wife) Robin Wright�s appearances as Booth�s love interest. With The Crossing Guard, Penn shows that he has the stuff it takes to expose ugly, gaping wounds and stare at the oozing innards. His next task as a filmmaker is learning how to surgically debride the wounds. (12/1/95)
2.5 stars (M.B.)
Village
GET SHORTY
D: Barry Sonnenfeld; with John Travolta, Gene Hackman, Rene Russo, Danny DeVito, Dennis Farina, Delroy Lindo, James Gandolfini, David Paymer.(R, 105 min.)
It�s said that Hollywood can be a tough and ruthless town, a real killer. Therefore, who better to grab all that bull by the horns than an out-and-out, legitimate gangster? That�s the premise of this very funny new comedy Get Shorty. When a small-time loan shark from Miami, Chili Palmer (Travolta), is sent to Los Angeles to find a dry cleaner who skipped on his debt, this movie-loving gangster seizes the opportunity to change careers. Chili�s trail has led him to Harry Zimm (Hackman, in one of the best performances of his already outstanding career) of Zimm Filmz, a one-man production empire that churns out cheesy movies starring Harry�s B-movie queen girlfriend Karen Flores (Russo). In his perpetual quest for funding, Harry has built up a hefty Vegas debt and, in turn, borrows from some L.A. gangsters (Lindo and Gandolfini) in order to keep his affairs afloat. But this is Hollywood, babe, where all the waiters are actors, the video store clerks are directors, and the gangsters are �investors.� Thus, with a story pitch about the runaway dry cleaner and some assistance with funding acquisition, Chili is now a producer. Get Shorty was adapted from an Elmore Leonard novel by screenwriter Scott Frank (Little Man Tate). The film is wickedly hilarious but more in a droll and knowing kind of sense than a har-de-har-har manner. Director Sonnenfeld (the Addams Family films) originally worked as a cinematographer and his eye for composition truly shows. The performances are all great. Travolta demonstrates that his Pulp Fiction return to stardom was no one-trick fluke; Hackman works against type and walks away with many of the film�s best comic bits; Russo does a delightful turn as a scream queen who sees a brighter future in producing; Lindo creates a wonderful wiseguy who�d kill to get into the film business; and DeVito creates a one-of-a-kind portrait of the actor who�s at the top of everyone�s A-list. The only slip-up here is with the characterization of the mob guy played by Dennis Farina: It�s an awkward and unbelievable mixture of violent menace and ridiculous buffoonery. Get Shorty creates its own distinct rhythm that, takes a few sequences to adjust to and, perhaps, is a bit too slow overall. One thing is certain: Danny DeVito�s production company Jersey Films is turning into a major industry force. After a slow start with Hoffa, the company scored big with Reality Bites and John Travolta�s comeback Pulp Fiction. Get Shorty is sure to continue that success. (10/20/95)
3.5 stars (M.B.)
Arbor, Highland, Movies 12, Westgate
GOLDENEYE
D: Martin Campbell; with Pierce Brosnan, Sean Bean, Izabella Scorupco, Famke Janssen, Joe Don Baker, Robbie Coltrane, Desmond Llewelyn.(PG-13, 129 min.)
After a six-year hiatus � and the end of the Cold War � 007 is back in action. Timothy Dalton has been replaced by Remington Steele�s Brosnan, and to terrific effect: Brosnan�s wittier, sexier, and an altogether more traditional Bond than Dalton, who always seemed to be trying too hard to fill the sizable Sean Connery/Roger Moore shoes. In almost every aspect, GoldenEye makes a conscious effort to hearken back to the days of the �classic� Bond of You Only Live Twice and Diamonds Are Forever. The stunts, the visuals, and miniatures, and even the female villains are all in the mold of the best Bonds of years past. This time out, 007 takes on a mysterious renegade Russian pair, headed by the traitorous General Ouromov (Gottfried John) and one of the most outrageous villainesses in memory, Famke Johnson�s Xenia Onatopp (�On the top?� Bond queries). Johnson almost steals the show with her delicious portrayal of a deadly, black-clad siren who brings new meaning to the term �sex and violence.� Ouromov and Onatopp are out to steal GoldenEye, a reportedly nonexistent satellite warfare system designed by the Soviets and then abandoned at the end of the Cold War. The mastermind behind their plan is Janus, a mysterious (is there any other kind?) madman with direct links to Bond�s past. Everything else is exactly what you�d expect from the most successful franchise in film history. Certainly, there are plot holes as large as the craters in Moonraker, but they do absolutely nothing to slow down director Campbell�s turbo-powered staging: from an epic tank chase through narrow Russian alleyways to some stunning and remarkable aerial camerawork (much of the credit must go to longtime Bond miniature designer Derek Meddings), this is escapist entertainment at its finest. Check your political correctness at the door and have a blast � this is the best Bond since The Spy Who Loved Me. (And yes, the Q�s gadgetry is top notch.) (11/17/95)
3.0 stars (M.S.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
D: Jodie Foster; with Holly Hunter, Robert Downey, Jr., Anne Bancroft, Charles Durning, Dylan McDermott, Geraldine Chaplin, Steve Guttenberg, Cynthia Stevenson, Claire Danes.(PG-13, 104 min.)
I wished I liked this movie more than I did. Ironically, that�s something of the feeling I think director Foster is trying to capture in Home for the Holidays � not in regard to her movie, of course, but in regard to that universal feeling we all share about the ritual of going home: the dread, the constant reminders of why you left, the corny predictability, and, despite it all, the overwhelming comfort gained from the knowledge that there exists a �home� to which you can return. Maybe it�s just that I have higher ambitions for family life than the port-in-a-storm scenario seemingly posed by Home for the Holidays. Overall, the movie stresses the more painful and awkward moments; moments that might be classified as �heartwarming� are rare. This results in a very cynical tone and I suspect that was not the desired effect. Perhaps the aim was for a tone that was more knowing and wryly comical, but as it stands, Home for the Holidays is a very mixed bag. The performances are all pleasurable to watch, although I must admit that Hunter�s mannerisms are starting to seem a bit worn to me. However, Downey, Jr., as Hunter�s gay brother, can do no wrong in my book. Durning and Bancroft make a believable, long-married couple and Bancroft�s homage to her role as Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate as she strips down to her bra and slip is just breathtaking. Yet too many things about the movie are implausible. Claudia (Hunter), who begins the movie with a bad head cold, loses it suddenly and miraculously with nary a trace. It�s also hard to believe that someone like Claudia who journeys home out of a sense of obligation and �good daughter� responsibilities would, in turn, allow her own daughter (Danes) to stay home and not also make the trek. I could go on with examples for a while. But the big thing that I can�t figure is the movie�s ending which shows Claudia giving in and taking a chance on love. Is that what this whole family hegira was about� to find a handsome stranger and start all over again? There so many likable moments in Home for the Holidays that nail situations so aptly that it�s a shame that there are so many more moments that leave you scratching your head and wondering what to think. (11/3/95)
2.5 stars (M.B.)
Arbor, Movies 12
IT TAKES TWO
D: Andy Tennant; with Kirstie Alley, Steve Guttenberg, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, Philip Bosco, Jane Sibbett.(PG, 97 min.)
Thirty-four years ago, I sat in a theatre watching Hayley Mills (and Hayley Mills) switch identities and plot to exorcise a wicked witch of a step-mother-to-be in order to reunite their father and mother. I was eight years old. Today I sat in a theatre with my own eight-year old daughter watching the dreaded (or beloved, depending on your age and attitude) Olsen twins scheming to expel a venomous social climber in favor of a lovable social worker. The story update, while suffering its own share of absurdities, does away with the original notion of twins separated at near-birth to be raised, unaware of one another, by their acrimoniously divorced parents. I don�t remember thinking that setup particularly odd or hearing of any fevered public outcry about such heinous behavior back then, but no doubt a hue and cry would be heard today. This version solves that p.c. problem by making the twins identical strangers, one a poor streetwise orphan, the other the pampered, sometimes overlooked daughter of a sweet but preoccupied cellular baron. Say what you will about those Olsen twins � whose eight-year run on the phenomenally successful TV sitcom Full House has turned them into a small industry of videos, books, and movies � they are pros. The two pull off accents and attitudes with aplomb and manage to avoid too much smart-alecky posturing or too many goofy gazes. Some of the credit must go to Tennant, whose crisp direction maximizes the fun and minimizes the sentimentality. Alley�s Diane Barrows makes a frumpishly endearing romantic lead while Guttenberg�s Roger Callaway perfectly captures the bewildered demeanor of a dad under the influence of too many females, and the two enjoy a credible on-screen chemistry. Jane Sibbett�s extravagant stint as Roger�s exorbitantly groomed, neurotic fianc�e, Clarice Kensington, makes her the perfect target for humiliation, but the movie doesn�t capitalize on that as much as it might have. In the era of Home Alones and Bushwhacked, I should probably bite my tongue for even suggesting that a few more well-placed pranks would be welcome. And, besides that, it�s nit-picking. I admit, I was prepared to rain all over those evil little Olsen twins� parade; first, just for being those icky little Olsen twins and, second, for tinkering with a 1961 classic. But while It Takes Two is no classic, neither is it an all-out attackable bomb. It�s a fairly sweet, mildly funny, squeaky clean little movie that children will enjoy. But (ha!) it only took one Hayley Mills where now it takes two. (11/24/95)
2.0 stars (H.C.)
Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Roundrock, Westgate
KIDS
D: Larry Clark; with Leo Fitzpatrick, Justin Pierce, Chloe Sevigny.(NR, 90 min.)
For once, the hype is right on the money. Kids is an emotional sucker punch, a raw, dirty, disturbing piece of cin�ma v�rit� filmmaking that simultaneously hooks and repulses you from its opening scenes of the teenaged Lothario Telly adrift in his favorite pastime: deflowering young girls. After the shockingly on-target coitus during which the practiced youth assuages his young lover�s fears with hollow promises of respect and ongoing warmth (his by-rote words carry all the weight of a thrice-used condom, but the virgin in question is oblivious in the heat of the moment), Telly � the self-proclaimed �virgin surgeon� � cruises off to hook up with pal Casper, who plies him for details of the tryst, living vicariously through his friend. On the other side of the city (New York), Jenny, a past conquest of the �de-virginizer� goes for an HIV screening as moral support for a friend. The friend comes up negative, but Jenny, with Telly being her one and only lover (and that was last summer, with no phone calls or tender words since), is stricken to find out she�s a carrier. Frantic, confused, and afraid, she numbly wanders the parks and boroughs of a sweaty, grimy New York trying to find Telly to alert him to the situation. Director Clark (previously best known for his gritty photos of urban street kids and hollow-eyed junkies) uses Jenny�s dazed meanderings as a way to explore the seamy underbelly of America�s urban youth. We see Telly and his friends hanging out, getting drunk, smoking dope, fighting, fucking (there�s no sex here, no lovemaking, just simple unromantic rutting), and generally acting without any moral compass whatsoever. They�re kids playing at being grown-ups playing at being time bombs. Clark�s brilliant eye keeps the film running as an edgy, in-your-face observation of what many kids consider a normal day�s events. The loud public outcry that accompanied the release of Kids � that it was little more than an exploitative attempt at teenage titillation � is as silly as Telly�s come-ons. Anyone who�s been out clubbing in an urban area after 2am will find few surprises in what Clark depicts. Shocking, yes, but hardly surprising; the film, perhaps not unintentionally, feels very much like a documentary. Disturbing, harrowing, visceral, and even sporadically humorous, Kids is one of those rare films that begs the description �a must-see.� For once, it�s the truth. (9/1/95)
4.5 stars (M.S.)
Dobie
LEAVING LAS VEGAS
D: Mike Figgis; with Nicolas Cage, Elisabeth Shue, Julian Sands.(R, 111 min.)
Leaving Las Vegas hits you like a breath of fresh air coupled with a 100-proof chaser. The movie is an amazing, bracing, funny, audacious, tender, and sobering piece of filmmaking. Few movies have ever dared to be this remorseless in their portraits of addiction � in this case, alcoholism. Nicolas Cage plays Ben Sanderson, a hopeless drunk with no desire to quit and no overriding need to live. So, when his drunkenly rank behavior causes him to be let go from his Hollywood executive job, he takes his severance pay and gathers all his possessions and tosses some of it into large, plastic trash bags that he leaves at the curb and burns all the rest of his stuff, pulls his convertible out of the driveway and heads to Las Vegas, where he plans to drink himself to death. Hey, it�s a plan. Ben has no regrets, creating a story that�s quite different from all the alcoholism movies, like The Lost Weekend and The Days of Wine and Roses, that have come before. Ben can no longer remember if his wife left him because he drinks or if he drinks because his wife left. The first time we see Ben in the movie, he is gaily wheeling his shopping cart through the liquor store aisles, stocking his basket to the brim. Cage plays the part with complete abandon, creating a searingly immortal character. Part buffoon, part poet, part lout, and part angel, Ben is no easy character to pin down. Just when you think you�re about to witness his sensitive side, he does something crass like plummeting through a glass table. In Las Vegas, he becomes taken with a $500-a-night hooker named Sera (Shue), who, in turn, takes a shine to him. Shue is wonderful in the role, surpassing any of the more wholesome work she�s done before. Yet, her role is also one of the problems of the film. Though she�s a good soul who is willing to accept Ben on his own terms for whatever brief time they may have together, she is essentially little more than the whore with a heart of gold. Even the movie�s breakaway scenes of Sera talking to her therapist add little depth to the character and remind us far too much of Klute. Her story line also builds to a horrifying and disturbing climax, that really seems like an unnecessary sidetrack. Director Mike Figgis makes a valiant return to the tenor of some of his earlier and darker work like Stormy Monday and Internal Affairs, rather than the recent missteps he�s taken with films like Mr. Jones and The Browning Version. Figgis also composed the soundtrack which is sung by Sting. I suppose it must also be mentioned that the novel on which the film was based was penned by John O�Brien, who committed suicide two weeks after learning that the book was bought for the movies. Leaving Las Vegas is redolent with cameos: Look for everyone from Richard Lewis to Carey Lowell to Bob Rafelson to Lou Rawls. Leaving Las Vegas is the kind of movie that feels like a terrific place to visit, but you know in your heart that you�d never want to dwell there. (11/22/95)
3.5 stars (M.B.)
Village
MONEY TRAIN
D: Joseph Ruben; with Wesley Snipes, Woody Harrelson, Jennifer Lopez, Robert Blake, Chris Cooper.(R, 110 min.)
Wesley and Woody as a pair of bickering brothers who work for the New York City Transit Police? I�ll bet Ivan Reitman is kicking himself right about now. Joseph Ruben (who made the brilliant The Stepfather in 1987 and seems to have been heading downhill ever since) offers up this bizarrely confused holiday action-fest with the aforementioned duo as John and Charlie, whose workaday world below the teeming streets of Christmastime Manhattan is upset when younger brother Charlie�s spiraling gambling debts threaten to destroy one, then both, of the brothers. As longtime NYPD officers, they�ve watched the fabled �money train� � that is, the heavily armored train that daily carries the millions of dollars in subway revenues to the bank � roar past under the watchful eye of megalomaniacal subway head Donald Patterson (an oddly reptilian Robert Blake, chewing scenery like Vincent Price on a bad day). While actually foster brothers, the two spar, fight, bicker, and generally carry on like any other brothers. When a curvaceous newcomer in the form of Lopez�s Grace Santiago becomes their newest partner in crime-fighting, both siblings� libidos are kicked into high gear, and the sibling rivalry begins in earnest. When Charlie�s debts and overall attitude land him in hot water with the mob, he embarks on a none-too-elaborate plan to rob the money train on New Year�s Eve. It�s up to John and Grace to stop, and/or save him, but what actually needs to be saved here is Ruben�s runaway film, which never quite decides whether it wants to be a buddy picture, a serious portrait of quarrelsome sibs, or a flat-out, balls-to-the-brake-pedal Holiday Action Extravaganza. Regrettably, it ends up being none of these, when it could have fared quite well if only somebody had made up his or her mind. There�s genuine chemistry between Snipes and Harrelson (as evidenced by their previous pairing in White Men Can�t Jump), and it works here, too, to a degree. Just when Ruben gets to the melodrama, he seems duty-bound to fly off on some other tangent, i.e. �mindless action,� which stops the film dead in its tracks, unlike the titular train, which � you guessed it � just keeps going, and going, and�. Ruben�s no slouch. He knows how to work both genres, but the constant intermingling of the two is enough to shake anyone, and in the end, Money Train comes off like a pale hybrid of The Taking of Pelham One Two Three and some nameless buddy cop picture. Even the action is tarnished by the confused glare of a frighteningly schizophrenic script. With Blake�s maddening black Astroturf coif thrown in for good measure (what were they thinking?), you�re never sure whether to laugh or cringe and, so, end up doing both. (12/1/95)
2.0 stars (M.S.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
NICK OF TIME
D: John Badham; with Johnny Depp, Christopher Walken, Charles S. Dutton, Peter Strauss, Roma Maffia, Gloria Reuben, Marsha Mason.(R, 89 min.)
Nick of Time derives its minute-by-minute pacing from Fred Zinnemann�s High Noon and Hitchcock�s Rope, with each scene unfolding in �real time� before the audience�s eyes. It�s a technique that hasn�t been used in some time, and while Badham (Stakeout, WarGames) pushes the gimmick to its fullest (there�s hardly a shot here that isn�t accompanied by the relentless ticking of a clock or has a digital clock framed somewhere in the background), it still fails to engage the viewer in anything but an extended waiting game. Depp is Gene Watson, a California accountant whose daughter is kidnapped by a pair of terrorist thugs (Maffia and Walken, who seems to be playing Walken playing Walken ad nauseam). They then demand that Gene take a revolver and assassinate a local political figure within the next 90 minutes or face the brutal execution of his child. As it turns out, Gene�s target is none other than the incumbent governor (Mason, in a very credible performance). When Gene attempts to reveal the plot unfolding around him to the governor�s aides and security, he finds the long arm of conspiracy reaches far and wide indeed. Depp as daddy is a stretch, but to his credit, he manages to pull it off. Confusing backstory about the father/daughter pair returning from Mommy�s funeral only clutters what is essentially a one-note film, but initial lack of interest in Depp�s character � where he comes from, why he�s here � also unfortunately thins out what should have been a meatier lead-in. Badham continually ratchets up the suspense quotient, cutting from scene to scene with progressive speed and flair, but that�s barely enough to keep you on the edge of your seat. Most of the nail-biting comes from wondering if Walken is actually acting or whether somewhere between The Deer Hunter and True Romance the actor blew his De Niro fuse and is actually this way in real life. Hey, now that�s suspense! (11/22/95)
2.5 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Roundrock, Westgate
NOW AND THEN
D: Lesli Linka Glatter; with Christina Ricci, Gaby Hoffman, Thora Birch, Ashleigh Aston Moore, Rosie O�Donnell, Demi Moore, Melanie Griffith, Rita Wilson.(PG-13, 96 min.)
We need more films about girls � big girls and little girls. But as much as Lesli Linka Glatter�s debut feature promises to be a Stand By Me for girls, Now and Then fails in its attempt to portray both the present and the past with equal success. It�s sweet and it�s often funny, but ultimately its slice-of-life approach tries too hard to incorporate current events like the Vietnam War. Set predominantly in the summer of 1970, Now and Then describes a summer in which four 12-year-olds from Shelby, Indiana, save their money to buy a room of their own in the form of a treehouse from Sears. Roberta (Ricci), Samantha (Hoffman), Teeny (Birch), and Chrissy (Aston Moore) are four friends who spend the summer conducting seances, trading pranks with the local family of terrorizing boys, and saving their �treehouse dollars.� The four young actresses effectively convey that on-the-verge feeling between puberty and teen-hood, and smaller roles played by Janeane Garofalo, Bonnie Hunt, and Cloris Leachman provide entertaining distractions. However, less effective are the present-day segments in which the girls are played by an interesting combination of bankable adult actresses: O�Donnell as Roberta, Demi Moore as Samantha, Griffith as Teeny, and Wilson as Chrissy. Trailers for the film shrewdly play both sides against the middle by marketing the film toward adults and young girls, but viewers expecting to see the adult actresses as much as their younger counterparts will be disappointed. Bracketing the film in two segments that bring Teeny and Samantha back to Shelby for the birth of Chrissy�s first child (delivered by Roberta, now an obstetrician), the scenes and the actresses fall flat in an attempt to cram a reunion, a birth, and a reconciliation with the past into less than 20 minutes of screen time. Now and Then somewhat successfully pushes all the right emotional buttons by depicting themes common to most young girls, but I expected more, not less, from the now in Now and Then. (10/27/95)
2.5 stars (A.M.)
Highland
POWDER
D: Victor DeSalva; with Mary Steenburgen, Sean Patrick Flanery, Lance Henricksen, Jeff Goldblum, Susan Tyrell.(PG-13, 111 min.)
Halfway through this visually arresting, controversy-embroiled film, I found myself thinking that perhaps this might have been similar to what might have resulted if Rod Serling had written and directed Forrest Gump instead of Robert Zemeckis. Certainly, Powder�s director Victor DeSalva is acquainted with The Twilight Zone: There�s plenty of Serling�s brand of misty-eyed fantasy and loss of innocence here. But DeSalva isn�t really a storyteller. Serling was (though not beyond that seminal show�s first two seasons). Powder�s premise starts strong � a teenaged genius suffering from the dual pangs of albinism and an odd propensity to attract large jolts of electrical current is thrust into the world when his caretakers die and he becomes a ward of the state. Taken to the state home for wayward and parentless youth (exactly what state this is we�re never told, nor does it matter), Powder (Flanery) is immediately and predictably ostracized by his bullying peers. Only the social worker Mary Steenburgen is in his corner and, perhaps, Henricksen�s gruff local sheriff. When given a chance to attend the regular high school on a trial basis, he literally electrifies both his peers and local science prof Goldblum. As a tale of an outsider and teenage angst taken to its dangerous, passionate extreme, the film has echoes of everything from Brian DePalma�s Carrie to Nicolas Roeg�s The Man Who Fell to Earth, and, at times, it�s every bit as exhilarating as either of those films. DeSalva stumbles, though, when he overplays his emotional hand. Subplots having to do with family reconciliations and cut-and-paste schoolyard bullies constantly threaten to drag the film down to the level of a trippy after-school special. It never quite falls flat on its face � Flanery�s nervous, riveting portrayal of Powder just won�t let it � but occasionally it dips mighty close (as in the predictable doomed-romance clich�). Despite the obvious problems, though, Powder retains a lyrical shine. It�s a modern fable, and at the heart of it, a rather depressing one at that. But that doesn�t make it any less magical. (11/3/95)
3.0 stars (M.S.)
Roundrock
SEVEN
D: David Fincher; with Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Richard Roundtree, R. Lee Ermey, John C. McGinley.(R, 107 min.)
Director Fincher, whose last outing was the butchered-by-the-studio Alien 3, seems more comfortable working on the terrestrial level in this vicious, solid, moody slice of Nineties noir. Pitt and Freeman play Mills and Sommerset, a mismatched pair of Gotham detectives (and is there any other kind?) who stumble across a serial killer whose motivation seems to be lifted directly from the classics: Each victim is slaughtered according to one of the seven deadly sins, and passages from Dante�s Divine Comedy keep turning up as mocking clues. The catch is that Freeman�s world-weary, methodical Sommerset only has seven more days until retirement, and the case-happy Mills, a recent transplant to the city with his lovely wife (Paltrow), is forcing him to stick around. Fincher, whose work in the music video field is readily apparent here, is a powerful director when he�s given half a chance, and Seven is a perfect showcase for what he can do without benefit of MTV (although the unnerving main and end titles, set to music by Nine Inch Nails and David Bowie, respectively, could have come, part and parcel, from that unholy network). Positively dripping with a soggy, oppressive atmosphere, the film is blanketed with a miasma of madness: The city itself is the enemy here, and the mysterious quarry only a symptom of a much more insatiable disease. Freeman is fine as the recalcitrant, literary Sommerset, and Pitt is, well, he�s not as bad as you might think, although his eagerness to please sometimes gets the better of him. I can�t help but think that if unknowns were cast in the principal roles we�d be seeing something almost as disturbing as John McNaughton�s seminal Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer but, I suppose, that�s Hollywood. Fincher keeps the film moving at a grimly frenetic pace, using intertitles to keep track of time (it�s always raining here) and knocking you out with a one-two conclusion that you may see coming but that rocks you anyhow. A very nasty piece of work, indeed. (9/29/95)
3.5 stars (M.S.)
Highland
TOY STORY
D: John Lasseter; with the voices of Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Wallace Shawn, Don Rickles, Jim Varney, John Ratzenberger, Annie Potts, Laurie Metcalf, Penn Jillette.(G, 81 min.)
Pixar and Disney join forces and take the next great leap forward in animated films with this moving, hilarious, and ultimately groundbreaking tale about the secret life of toys. John Lasseter�s Pixar computer animation company first gained fame in the mid-Eighties with a series of then-astounding computer-generated short films including Red�s Dream, Knick-Knack, and the seminal Tin Toy, which featured the first-ever attempt to create a computer-animated human. You can see how much times have changed in Toy Story: The film has plenty of humans running around, in addition to the myriad toys of the title. Woody (Hanks) is young Andy�s favorite plaything, a stuffed cowboy with a pull-string voicebox that lets him spout such western witticisms as �Somebody�s poisoned the water in the well!� When Andy�s not around, Woody comes to life, overseeing the other toys (Mr. Potato Head, Slinky Dog, little green plastic army guys, and all the rest you probably remember from your own childhood) as their unofficial leader. When Andy�s birthday rolls around, Woody and company anxiously await the possible arrival of new, better playthings. Although protesting otherwise, it�s all too obvious that Woody�s worried that he�ll end up obsolete and forgotten in the shadow of some G.I. Joe or Tonka toy. Woody�s fears seem justified, to a point: The hit of Andy�s birthday is his new Buzz Lightyear doll (Allen), a gizmo-laden, slam-bang action figure that not only talks, but has lasers, wings, and a mean karate chop. Before long, a jealous Woody is plotting ways to get rid of the interloper. Things go awry when both Buzz and Woody are accidentally lost in the world outside of Andy�s house. When they find themselves in the clutches of Sid, the vicious, toy-destroying brat next door, it�s up to Woody to come to terms with his jealousies and find a way home for the two of them. Like Tim Burton�s The Nightmare Before Chrismas, Toy Story�s brilliant animation is its chief draw; unlike Burton�s film, however, Toy Story has a lot more going for it that just eye-popping visuals. The film actually has more in common with traditionally animated films such as The Brave Little Toaster and Disney�s more contemporary work. Toy Story is just that: a great story supported and enhanced (but never overshadowed) by its stunning animation. All the characters � from Andy�s Bucket o� Soldiers running tiny recon missions throughout the household, to Ham the piggy bank and all the rest � are fresh, fully realized, and easily identifiable characters. The evil (sort of) Sid is a veritable American male archetype as well; is there anyone who didn�t blow up, melt with a magnifying glass, or otherwise deface a few GI Joes and Matchbox cars in his time? Lasseter�s Toy Story is a comic and animated gem, the kind of holiday film you actually look forward to seeing again and again (and if you have kids, you�re almost certain to go more than once). (11/22/95)
4.0 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock
WILD BILL
D: Walter Hill; with Jeff Bridges, Ellen Barkin, John Hurt, Diane Lane, David Arquette, Bruce Dern.(R, 91 min.)
Walter Hill presents his personalized take on the legend of Wild Bill Hickok in this new Western. Hill�s speculations are hardly the problem here, however. Basic story structure is the more the problem with Wild Bill and for a director as seasoned as Hill (The Warriors, Southern Comfort, 48 Hours, The Long Riders), such a jumble is inexcusable. The movie opens with Hickok�s funeral and when Calamity Jane (Barkin) turns to Charley Prince (Hurt) and says that no one knew Bill better than he, we can see that we�re in for trouble. Thus begins the convoluted string of flashbacks within flashbacks during which people who were not present recall specific events in Hickok�s life and we quickly lose track of who�s remembering what. What Hill would argue, I suspect, is that the snowball effect of the mythmaking machine is exactly what the film was trying to expose. Heroes cannot chose to become heroes, though individuals can be chosen by others to become heroes. Much was the plight of William Butler Hickok, argues Hill. He did not himself chose to become a legend; people deemed him one through their popular repetition of his deeds. Still, this narrative approach makes for a wildly and needlessly disorienting ride. Hill takes liberties with the Hickok history and I�m not well enough versed in my Western lore to get into discussions about whether or not Hickok was a syphilitic opium fiend or other such weighty matters. The most original shading in Wild Bill is given to Hickok�s assassin Jack McCall. Hill has adapted ideas presented in the play Fathers and Sons by Thomas Babe and the novel Deadwood by Pete Dexter. While Hill doesn�t go as far as these works and present McCall as the illegitimate son of Hickok, Hill�s self-penned screenplay does present McCall as the frustrated son of one of Hickok�s former lady loves. As Hickok, Bridges is terrific, conveying the dusty weariness of the Western hero, a man dead at the age of 39 but eternally youthful through the power of myth. It�s also interesting to see Barkin cast as the plain Jane frontier legend Calamity Jane. Wild Bill is also a movie that stresses the unpaved muddiness of the frontier. It�s a place where everyone has mud on their pants cuffs and skirt hems. Despite its authentic feel for things Western, Wild Bill misses the big picture. (12/1/95)
2.0 stars (M.B.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
Previews
This article appears in December 8 • 1995 and December 8 • 1995 (Cover).