RECO #37
This week’s new reviews represent the calm before the storm. Two of this summer’s big, brassy action hopefuls, Crimson Tide and Die Hard With a Vengeance, have now been launched. In other quarters, there appears to be a deluge of things French: this week’s new openings of Forget Paris and Window to Paris join a lingering French Kiss. But get ready. Summer films are about to fly out of the chute faster than you can change a theatre marquee, and the starting buzzer officially goes off next weekend for the Memorial Day holiday. So, catch up on all the current stuff (and don’t miss Once Were Warriors) because, from here on out, catching up will be hard to do. – M.B.
stars
New Review
CRIMSON TIDE
D: Tony Scott; with Denzel Washington, Gene Hackman, George Dzundza, Viggo Mortensen, James Gandolfini, Matt Craven, Jason Robards.Submarines hold a near-mythic place in the pantheon of Great American Male Film Fantasies, and this juggernaut of a movie plays right into these childlike fantasies of the great submariner ships. As directed by Scott (True Romance, Top Gun), the subs in Crimson Tide – both the U.S.S. Alabama and the Russian Hunter-Killer class sub that is stalking her – are huge, shadowy behemoths gliding soundlessly through the icy brine and looking like nothing so much as a pair of chillingly phallic sea creatures engaged in some bizarre ritual display. Freud, doubtless, would have had plenty to say about this particular genre of American filmmaking. Grounded in the current Chechnyan political instability and the rise of Vladimir Zhirinovsky, Russia’s spokesman for the extreme right, Scott’s film posits a sudden takeover by rebel Russian soldiers of various strategic nuclear arsenals and the West’s alarm over such an occurrence. Sent in to “give the rebels pause” are Captain Ramsey (Hackman) and Executive Officer Hunter (Washington) of the U.S.S Alabama, ostensibly America’s first and last line of defense in such a crisis situation. Once on board the sub, the two men find themselves not only in close quarters but also in constant conflict, as the complex, Harvard- and Annapolis-educated Hunter and the crusty, combat-hungry Ramsey engage in their own verbal and psychological war while the real thing waits just around the corner. When the Alabama receives what is apparently a legitimate order to launch its nuclear payload at the Russians, mutiny appears to be a given, doubly complicating what is an already emotionally charged tour of duty for the men on board. Scott is a master of slick action films, and Crimson Tide is beautiful to look at: It is, of course, the first big summer movie of the season. Bathed in brilliant greens and blues, even the claustrophobic interior of the submarine is spectacular, and shots of the Alabama breaching before a dive are downright awe-inspiring. The central conflict between Hackman and Washington, though, quickly becomes bogged down in unintentional war movie clich�s as the two act and react to each other (especially in Hackman’s overwrought, bombastic performance) like a pair of noisy schoolchildren. Their conflict has all the subtlety of a torpedo. (But then, who looks to summer blockbusters for subtlety? Perhaps I’m asking for too much here.) Granted, both performances, as well as many by the supporting cast, are top-notch, but it is like watching a couple of pit bulls go at it. Crimson Tide succeeds nicely as a Sturm und Drang action film – the underwater battle scenes are genuine white-knucklers – but it’s no Run Silent, Run Deep. Go see it, get the adrenaline rush, and then go home and forget about it. It’s noisy and fun, but that’s all it is.
3.0 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
DIE HARD WITH A VENGEANCE
D: John McTiernan; with Bruce Willis, Samuel L. Jackson, Jeremy Irons, Graham Greene, Colleen Camp.Continuing the unlikely adventures of beleaguered NYPD cop John McClane (Willis), this third installment unfortunately forsakes much of the occasionally clever, somewhat wry dialogue and situations of its predecessors in favor of a more generic action-adventure approach that piles on stunt after stunt, explosion atop explosion, and leaves you with nothing so much as a headache and the notion that the Die Hard franchise is indeed dead. Returning to his old stomping grounds in the Big Apple, a now-suspended, separated, and nearly alcoholic McClane is called back into active duty by his superiors when a mysterious mad bomber, who goes by the name of Simon (Irons), begins targeting a decidedly hungover McClane with threats of vaporization and lesser forms of torment. Simon’s first move leaves the blurry-eyed, recently awakened cop wandering around central Harlem wearing a sandwich board emblazoned with a racist slogan guaranteed to render him deceased within in a matter of minutes. To his aid comes shop owner and reluctant sidekick-to-be Zeus Carver (Jackson), who saves McClane’s life not because he’s a good Samaritan, but because “one dead white cop in Harlem suddenly means hundreds more with itchy trigger fingers.” While the two run around the city on various wild goose chases designed to get them killed, the FBI and Company gamely try to figure out who’s behind all this McClane-directed violence that’s making New York even more hazardous than usual (which should be fairly obvious from the film’s title). McTiernan is an old hand at actioners and, like the pro he is, keeps the film rushing along from fiery stunt to stunt. But after an hour or so you find yourself wishing for fewer big bangs and more pithy extemporizing from Willis, one of the few humanistic – albeit contrived – aspects from the series’ previous outings. Thankfully, Irons (looking decidedly buff these days and not at all like Claus von Bulow) keeps the film from sinking too far into dismal self-mockery with a bravura, nicely twisted performance as the grandstanding, megalomaniacal Simon. Being the riotously loud, bombastic summer movie that it is, you don’t go to see a Die Hard film expecting subtly nuanced characterizations and crisp, airtight story lines – you go to see poor John McClane get the stuffing knocked out of him half-a-dozen times before emerging victorious once again. Which is just what you get this time out. Big surprise, that.
2.0 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
FORGET PARIS
D: Billy Crystal; with Crystal, Debra Winger, Joe Mantegna, Cynthia Stevenson, Richard Masur, Julie Kavner, William Hickey, Robert Constanzo, John Spencer, Cathy Moriarty.Wave au revoir and then do like the movie says: Forget Paris. (On general principles, I hate titles that can obviously double as ready-made, critical, straight lines. But I’d hate myself even more if I stoically tried to rise above the opportunity.) Forget Paris is not a total bust: It does have some very funny scenes and moments (most notably, the sequence during which a pigeon, ludicrously, sticks to Debra Winger’s face). And Billy Crystal can be a genuinely funny guy. But why does he insist on having all the marbles? Not simply a star, Crystal is now his own producer and writer, as well as his own leading man. This overreach led to Crystal’s last misfire, the maudlin and mean-spirited Mr. Saturday Night. Clearly, Forget Paris is trying to regain some of the Crystal luster associated with films like When Harry Met Sally… and City Slickers. Through the years, he has carved himself something of a film niche as a spokesman for grown-up baby boomers. In fact, Crystal’s entire career may be viewed as an example of the Peter Principle in action. After starting out as one of TV’s first ongoing gay male characters in Soap, Crystal went on to do a mish-mash of lame comedy routines on Saturday Night Live and elsewhere. His best work in film has always been when he takes direction from others, in projects like Throw Momma From the Train and When Harry Met Sally…. And why couldn’t he be happy with that Academy Awards gig? (He hosted the Oscars four times, and the Grammys three.) What’s wrong with being a great host? Crystal’s self-inflation factor is exactly what is wrong with Forget Paris: too much Crystal and not enough substance. The movie recounts the bumpy path of romance traveled by Mickey (Crystal) and Ellen (Winger). Their history is related in continuing segments by a slow-gathering ensemble of old friends of the couple. The better we get to know Mickey and Ellen, the less appealing the two steadily become. Following a whirlwind romance in which they play at being Americans in Paris, their marriage raises insoluble problems of incompatible temperaments and careers. Neither is there any “chemistry” or believable passion in the pairing of Crystal and Winger. This is only made more painful by the awareness that all the other assembled couples are infinitely more interesting than Mickey and Ellen. Pairing Richard Masur and Julie Kavner as a well-seasoned married couple is casting brilliance. Giving them very little to do is a crime. Ditto for John Spencer and Cathy Moriarty, who were given even less to work with. Only William Hickey emerges unscathed in his on-target portrayal of a just-this-side-of-senile father-in-law. Ever wonder what happens after the ellipses in When Harry Met Sally…? Forget Paris provides the answer in the form of When Mickey Met Ellen….
1.5 stars (M.B.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
WINDOW TO PARIS
D: Yuri Mamin; with Serguei Dontsov, Agnes Soral, Victor Michailov.Immediately charming with its first images of a lively Russian parade, this whimsical comic fantasy from director Yuri Mamin manages a lightweight mood while exploring the mutual prejudices and misunderstandings that occur when two distinctly different worlds and cultures – Russian and French, in this case – collide. The story concerns itself with the misadventures of a group of Russian friends who live in Saint Petersburg and accidentally discover a hidden window in their apartment that acts as a kind of portal that, magically, leads directly out to the rooftops of Paris. All the characters have different reactions to their new environment, the richness of which contrasts greatly with that of the poor slums of their homeland: Nikolai (Dontsov), a young music teacher, becomes fascinated with French culture and, eventually, falls in love with Nicole (Soral), a French artist whose apartment is located right next to the mystical window. Gorokhov (Michailov), Nikolai’s friend and roommate, becomes infuriated by the wealth and material opportunities he sees in Paris and thus takes back to Russia as many goods and items (whether acquired honestly or otherwise) as he can carry through the portal. The culture-clash comedy that comprises the majority of Window to Paris is, aside from some occasionally silly stereotypes, genuinely entertaining, and there are some especially delightful sequences, including a drunken Nikolai’s first meeting with Nicole, Gorokhov’s hilariously vulgar violin solo, and Nicole’s verbal rooftop battle with Gorokhov and his feisty family. However, when this business finally does get tired, Mamin wisely moves the viewer into a new and rewarding subplot in which Nicole crosses over from Paris to Russia, and Nikolai must find a way to get her back home. Themes of patriotism and loyalty to one’s country are on display but, despite the film’s supposedly lofty pretensions, it’s the picture’s light touch that emerges as its chief asset. In what is sure to be a very loud, flamboyant summer movie season, Window to Paris offers a nice alternative: a breezy, pleasant viewing experience full of new and likable faces, a clever plot, and even a little intellectual stimulation. In other words, it’s not perfect and it won’t change your life, but it is a nice change of pace.
3.0 stars (J.O.)
Village
First Run
BAR GIRLS
D: Marita Giovanni; with Nancy Allison Wolfe, Liza D’Agostino, Camila Griggs, Michael Harris, Justine Slater, Lisa Parker, Pam Raines, Paula Sorge, Cece Tsou, Chastity Bono.Director Marita Giovanni makes her feature film debut with Bar Girls. Lauran Hoffman adapted her original stage play for this film and served as co-producer. The story stems from the lives and loves of the patrons at a lesbian bar in Los Angeles called Girl Bar. This true-to-life story focuses on the mating rituals and daily routines of the women whose lives intersect nightly at the bar. It is filled with humor, revolving love affairs, work, jealousy, and camaraderie. Loretta (Wolfe) is Bar Girls’ central character. She co-writes a TV cartoon series titled Heavy Myrtle and pushes for lesbian story lines. (To emphasize her point, she takes a TV executive’s troll doll hostage.) One night at the bar, Loretta spies Rachel (D’Agostino) and is instantly smitten. Before long, the two move in together, and not long after that, the jealousy starts. A rookie cop named J.R. (Griggs) and a few ex-lovers also enter the picture. Then, Loretta’s best friend, a happy heterosexual, gets a “woman-centered” buzz and pairs up with the most unlikely candidate in the bar. The bar functions much like a stage to which the women continually return, regrouping in ever-changing constellations and match-ups. Jealous fights break out on a regular basis, but the regulars are all “family” and always welcome back. We see the bar go through changes in its quest for new clientele: hat night, wheat grass shots, etc. The plot is almost incidental; what is intriguing about Bar Girls is the stuff that happens in between events. The casual conversations, the structure of the relationships, the quips, the familiarity, and the jokes – these are what capture our attention, and not because of their insight or invention, but because they’re so natural and yet invisible in the movies. As a story, Bar Girls leaves too many narrative strands dangling and the performances often seem flat. Stylistically undistinguished, the film compensates by providing a real after-hours hangout.
2.5 stars (M.B.)
Dobie
THE ENGLISHMAN WHO WENT UP A HILL BUT CAME DOWN A MOUNTAIN
D: Christopher Monger; with Hugh Grant, Colm Meany, Tara Fitzgerald, Ian McNeice, Kenneth Griffith.When I was in school, I never minded contracting minor childhood illnesses, for it meant I would end up snuggled into blankets and pillows on the couch, fortified with Saltines and ginger ale, eagerly awaiting the TV “movie matinee.” My favorites were the British movies of the Thirties and Forties, both the silly portraits of bucolic manor life and the darkly humorous class satires. It seemed to me, even then, that these were a people who had a genius – in a low-key way – for making much ado about nothing. Though the Welsh would bristle at being cast into the same lot as the English, they share this genius. Perhaps it is because in such a tiny country, with such tiny villages where so many share the same surname and where nearly everyone knows everything about one another, local events are reduced to a nearly microscopic level. That is to say, they are magnified to about 2,000 times their normal importance. Every incident, no matter how mundane, merits extraordinary attention. That trait, combined with a fierce patriotism for a country which has struggled to maintain its own cultural identity, requires that the inhabitants of the village Ffynnon Garw make a mountain out of a hill. Which, of course, is the subject of The Englishman Who Went up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain, a gentle comedy based on a true story passed down to the film’s director and writer by his grandfather. Rich in lush Welsh landscape and eccentric characters, Monger’s Englishman provides a look, both sweet and sly, at a place most people only know of through Dylan Thomas or Richard Burton. Hugh Grant shines as the reluctant hero and fits perfectly into the World War I era, and though I suppose that someday I might tire of his fumbling charm, that day has not yet come. His shy, innocent Anson is a perfect foil for the conniving patriots, and the movie achieves it best moments when the two seemingly contradictory forces collide. The picture’s deadpan humor and quiet romance is marred by a too-loud, overly dramatic score and some serious pacing problems, but nearly redeems itself with a hilarious ending. Contrary to its ad campaign, this is no Four Weddings and a Funeral and will, no doubt, suffer from the comparison. But if you occasionally crave the cool taste of a pint of bitter and think fondly of those old-fashioned British movies, you might be content spending an evening in Ffynnon Garw.
2.0 stars (H.C.)
Arbor, Highland, Lakehills, Village
FRENCH KISS
D: Lawrence Kasdan; with Meg Ryan, Kevin Kline, Timothy Hutton, Jean Reno, Francois Cluzet, Susan Anbeh.Remember real cotton candy? The stuff that was freshly spun, sweet and pink, directly onto paper cones at carnivals and fairs? Full of empty calories and a dentist’s nightmare, but oh, that sweet sugar rush as it dissolved on your tongue. And so it is with cotton candy movies – those sweeter-than-sugar, lighter-than-air concoctions that make you forget your woes and leave the theatre humming or holding hands. This, clearly, is what French Kiss aims to be. And its story about a jilted woman (Ryan) who overcomes her fear of flying to wrest her fianc� (Hutton) from the sensuous clutches of a leggy mademoiselle only to discover true love with a con-artist cum aspiring vintner (Kline) apparently succeeded for many of my fellow viewers. But not for me. And I’m a sucker for the pink, sweet stuff. Take Green Card, for a not-so-coincidental example. Same story, really, of an uptight, control freak American woman beguiled by a scruffy French rou�. It’s a movie I get duped into watching every time I catch a glimpse of it on TV. Predictably preposterous and shamelessly sentimental, it works, at least for me, because of one magnificent, hilarious, fragile scene where Depardieu first appalls and then astonishes his audience. Maybe it was just Depardieu magic, maybe it’s the over-the-top intonation of a real French actor that Kevin Kline was (perhaps wisely) afraid to tackle, maybe it’s that a dusty collection of bottled scents and herbs cannot compare to a poignant French poem. Or maybe I just long for the style and wit of early Kasdan movies (Body Heat, The Big Chill) and can’t help feeling disappointed by his subsequent efforts. Whatever the reason, French Kiss loses something in the translation. Meg Ryan does her cute and goofy thing in a role that pretty much reprises her When Harry Met Sally… character. She does shine in the picture’s physical comedy – her collision with a French pastry cart is a genuinely funny, but fleeting, moment. Kline can’t quite capture that peculiarly French appeal that separates shaggy from scuzzy, but Hutton is memorable if only for the garish shirts he sports throughout the movie. What it all boils down to is that if you don’t mind that artificially flavored, plastic-bagged, stale pink and purple stuff that gets passed off as cotton candy these days, you will probably like French Kiss. But if I’m going to indulge in the sweet stuff, it needs to be fresher than this.
1.5 stars (H.C.)
Arbor, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Riverside, Roundrock
FRIDAY
D: F. Gary Gray; with Ice Cube, Chris Tucker, Nia Long, Anna Maria Horsford, Regina King, Bernie Mac, John Witherspoon.A refreshingly lighthearted look at day-to-day life in the inner city, Friday does suffer from a few problems in the scripting and directing departments, but entertains nonetheless, thanks mainly to the easygoing style of its talented cast. The threadbare plot follows a day in the life of the recently fired (on his day off, no less) Craig Jones (Ice Cube), as he kills time with his best buddy Smokey (Tucker), who has landed in big trouble with the local drug pusher (a curly-haired ice cream vendor named “Big Worm”) for smoking up all the inventory. Facing a 10pm deadline to come up with $200 or face certain death at the hands of Big Worm’s thugs, the boys spend their day trying to dig up the cash, taking time out to ogle some girls, rob a house, and stand up to the neighborhood bully. Rich in low-brow laughs, Friday’s most obvious strength is its energetic cast, led by rap superstar Ice Cube and stand-up comedian Chris Tucker. For my money, Ice Cube’s turn in John Singleton’s Higher Learning was one of that picture’s few saving graces, and here he expands the keen sense of comic timing that he revealed in that earlier film. In a direct contrast to Cube’s mellow cool is Tucker’s ridiculously spastic performance as Smokey, apparently attempting to give new meaning to the term “over-the-top.” There are a number of memorable supporting performances, with one in particular – John Witherspoon as Craig’s dog-catching father – stealing the show. (One scene with Mr. Jones on the toilet, explaining to his son the sadistic joy inherent in dog-catching, is a disgustingly hilarious highlight.) The downside? Well, F. Gary Gray’s direction is painfully flat, and curiously – especially for a popular music video director like Gray – lacking any interesting visual style. Another drawback is the scattershot script by Ice Cube and fellow rap star D.J. Pooh, which runs out of ideas about halfway through and sets up a bizarre finale that suggests pegging a man in the head with a brick while his back is turned is, somehow, more honorable than shooting him. Despite its faults, Friday is lively entertainment, full of personable actors and cheerfully served up with nary a trace of cynicism. It’s not perfect, but it is fun. On a final note… While seemingly a fitting piece to set the mood, the video clip of Dr. Dre’s “Keep Their Heads Ringin’,” which is shown before the feature, turns out to be nothing more than a shameless soundtrack plug, with Chris Tucker’s frantic voice plugging away with cries of: “If you think that was the bomb, go check out the soundtrack!” Do yourself a favor: Come late and miss the video. This kind of cheap promotion (especially for such a high-profile record that will almost assuredly do great business anyway) should be discouraged.
2.5 stars (J.O)
Great Hills, Lincoln, Riverside, Westgate
GORDY
D: Mark Lewis; with Doug Stone, Kristy Young, Michael Roescher, Deborah Hobart, Ted Manson, James Donadio, Tom Lester.Over the last year I’ve fallen into reviewing more children’s films than any other kind, because my most common filmgoing companion is now a four-and-a-half-year-old. I may not see a Disclosure or While You Were Sleeping, but I’m sure to see a Thumbelina, The Goofy Movie, The Penguin and the Pebble, and, of course, Gordy, this fast-paced comedy about a young talking pig who is separated from his family and becomes a hero and a star as he searches for them around the country. There was a time I hardly would have known of a film such as this, much less treated it as the event of the day. Halfway through this movie, I realized that my companion, for the first time in a handful of movies, wasn’t moving but was raptly watching the story unfold. When the farm where he was raised is put up for sale, Gordy (unlike his father, mother, and five brothers and sisters) escapes being sold, trucked off to be fattened up, and, eventually, slaughtered. Determinedly, he sets out to find them. Venturing cross country, he is picked up by the singing young daughter (Young) of a traveling country & western singer (played by real country star Stone). Gordy is then passed along to the young son (Roescher) of an aging, billionaire industrialist (Manson) after the pig saves the boy from drowning in a swimming pool, thus becoming pig hero to the nation and the trademark that revitalizes the father’s company. There is, of course, an evil prince of industry (Donado) plotting against the pig, a bunch of wonderful bungling henchmen, and even sweet, old, country & western romance. A lot happens, it moves quickly, and the film is filled with minor characters who nicely round things out; the young one watched the film from beginning to end, loving it. This is not a date movie.
2.5 stars (L.B.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Westgate
MY FAMILY, MI FAMILIA
D: Gregory Nava; with Jimmy Smits, Esai Morales, Eduardo Lopez Rojas, Jenny Gago, Elpidia Carrillo, Constance Marie, Edward James Olmos.Gregory Nava’s (El Norte) most recent film spans 50 years in the life of the Sanchez family, a Mexican-American clan whose roots in the United States date back to the 1920s in Los Angeles when, as middle son and writer Paco Sanchez (Olmos) narrates, “The border was just a line in the dirt.” As written by Nava and Anna Thomas, the film’s epic proportions occasionally diminish into blips in the family’s history as the action takes place in the 1930s, then jumps to the late 1950s, and finally concludes in the 1970s. These 20-year shifts are problematic in terms of developing any real connections with characters such as the ill-fated Chucho (Morales) and his brother Jimmy (played as an adult by Smits). Nava and Thomas do present some compelling situations, such as the deportation of matriarch Maria Sanchez (Gago) in the 1930s and her struggle to return with her newborn son Chucho to her husband and two older children in Los Angeles. In addition, Edward Lachman’s cinematography effectively recreates with warmth and nostalgia Los Angeles during the film’s three main time periods. However, scenes that attempt to depict the problematic integration of American culture with the Sanchez’s Mexican heritage, such as the scene in which the entire family gathers to watch I Love Lucy, groan under the burden of representing years of stereotypes. This scene’s awkwardness is further complicated when daughter Toni (Marie), a Catholic nun, enthuses, “We always watch it at the convent!” My Family, Mi Familia’s cast represents some powerhouse acting talents, and yet the film loses steam because of weak dialogue and underdeveloped characters. Perhaps the film would do better as a longer production, allowing Nava to explore the family’s experiences at a less-frantic pace; clocking in at just under two hours, My Family, Mi Familia seems to speed through the important developments in this family’s history. Comparisons already have been made to The Godfather because of the film’s multi-generational narrative and My Family, Mi Familia’s executive producer being none other than Francis Ford Coppola. While the current state of Hollywood cinema calls out for a strong epic film about Mexican-American life (or any non-Caucasian life, for that matter), Nava’s film does not fill that void.
2.5 stars (A.M.)
Highland, Riverside, Westgate
ONCE WERE WARRIORS
D: Lee Tamahori; Rena Owen, Temuera Morrison, Mamaengaroa Kerr-Bell, Julian (Sonny) Arahanga, Taungaroa Emile, Clifford Curtis, Mere Boyton.Harrowing is the first word that comes to mind when describing this movie. You can tell from the opening shot that Once Were Warriors will not settle for surface illusions. It opens with a tightly focused shot that captures a frolicsome, beachfront, sun-and-surf tourist image of New Zealand, but then gradually pulls back to reveal this lovely sight as nothing more than a billboard fantasy overlooking a drab, dingy, low-rent, ghetto area rammed smack up alongside a noisy highway. This is the New Zealand that is the object of Once Were Warriors’ focus. The film’s story is both culturally specific and broadly universal and that duality is a large part of what makes Once Were Warriors work. Set in the poor, urban, public housing district of an unspecified New Zealand city, the movie focuses on the life of one dysfunctional Maori family. Poverty, alcoholism, and wife-beating are ripping these family members apart. Schisms also define the characters’ various relationships with their Maori heritage; some reject the connection outright and others try to reconcile their native heritage with an urban lifestyle. As the abused wife Beth, Rena Owen creates a spectacular presence. She loves her family and works toward their improvement, and though, at times, her husband Jake (Morrison) abuses her violently, she still loves him deeply and understands (and makes us understand) the muddy wellspring that fuels his displaced anger. The kids all react in different ways. The oldest (Arahanga) joins a Maori gang and leaves home. The oldest girl, Grace (Kerr-Bell), writes beautiful stories and takes care of the younger children and embodies her mother’s hope for the future. The middle son Boogie (Emile) is sent away by the state to reform school as the result of a series of petty crimes. The two youngest children vacillate between delight and fear as their parents veer between making love and making war. For the international audience, the exoticism of the Maori culture – with its elaborate body tattoos and fanciful history – will offer a certain lure. In New Zealand, Once Were Warriors broke all previous attendance records for both home-grown and international movies of all kinds. Yet there is a certain mentality captured by the film that translates well into most cultures, I suspect. It involves the cycles of dependency, alcoholism, abuse, poverty, and cultural marginalization. The film’s searing performances are matched by the lovely camerawork of cinematographer Stuart Dryburgh (The Perez Family, The Piano, An Angel at My Table). Caveat emptor: The scenes of wife abuse are extremely graphic; also, a child is raped in one scene. These images are disturbing, and quite intentionally so, but they are also necessary to the story. If seeing such scenes will disturb you more than seeing a great movie will invigorate you, make the wise choice.
4.0 stars (M.B.)
Village
PANTHER
D: Mario Van Peebles; with Kadeem Hardison, Bokeem Woodbine, Joe Don Baker, Marcus Chong, Tyrin Turner, Dick Gregory, M. Emmett Walsh, James LeGros.After years of floating around Hollywood, the story of the Black Panther Party has finally made it to the screen, and though some critics have already begun to point out the film’s occasional historical inaccuracies, the Van Peebles’ (son Mario directed and father Melvin scripted; both co-produced) depiction of the nascent African-American political party-cum-self-empowerment movement is a stirring – if readily dramatized – history lesson for the Nineties. Ostensibly the tale of Panther founders Huey Newton and Bobby Seale and their revolutionary call-to-arms, Panther uses Kadeem Hardison’s fictional character, Judge, as the eyes through which the party is seen. Freshly back from a tour of Vietnam, Judge returns to Oakland to find his hometown changed: The police seem to be out of control in their routine persecution of the black neighborhoods, and young upstarts Seale and Newton have taken it upon themselves to form the Panthers as a means of policing the police. On top of (legally) arming themselves (and it’s a bit of a surprise to realize that once upon a time guns were so hard to come by in the urban jungle), they also feed the homeless, educate people within the ghetto, and generally strive to make life better for all concerned. The Panthers were, of course, rewarded with ever-increasing harassment from the FBI, bloodshed, and ostracism from some elements of their own community, chief among them the drug dealers and thugs who preferred life without the Panthers’ community policing. When Judge is contacted by the FBI and forced into becoming a government stoolie (to a degree – he has the consent of both Newton and Seale, who find this a favorable way to feed the Feds misinformation), he finds himself caught between his love of the Panther party and a very legitimate fear for his life. The performances here are almost all first rate, with Chong’s Newton capturing much of the charismatic personality of the party leader and comedian/activist Dick Gregory doing a wonderful turn as local Reverend Slocum. Peebles uses old black-and-white news footage of the party to add an almost documentary feel to parts of the film, but the story frequently has a noticeable (and cloying) “Hollywood” feel to it; there’s gloss on the ghetto and Hoover at times seems more menacing than Darth Vader. Despite these filmic flaws, Panther manages to kick start the mythic elements of the very real Black Panther Party. It’s about time.
3.0 stars (M.S.)
Highland
THE PEREZ FAMILY
D: Mira Nair; with Marisa Tomei, Alfred Molina, Chazz Palminteri, Anjelica Huston, Trini Alvarado, Celia Cruz, Diego Wallraff, Angela Lanza, Ellen Cleghorne.Before The Perez Family winds to its close, you may find yourself happily volunteering for honorary membership in their clan. The ever-expanding Perez family cluster attracts newcomers at a steady clip and instead of collapsing from the additional weight, the group evolves and accommodates the changes. The movie, much like the family it portrays, is a joyous melange of characters, moods, and plot developments. Some of its structural elements work better than others but even at its weakest points, the film manages to delight. Like another recent film, Don Juan DeMarco, The Perez Family’s unevenness detracts little from the film’s magisterial faith in the power of love. The story begins as two Cuban immigrants meet during the last boat lift to America in 1980. The two couldn’t be more mismatched. Juan Raul Perez (Molina) has spent the last 20 years in a Cuban prison while his wife (Huston) and daughter (Alvarado) have been in Miami all these years waiting for him. Dottie Perez (Tomei) is a vivacious young field worker and prostitute who is also a natural-born survivor. Juan Raul is in a daze, in between the realities of his 20-year confinement and the search for his wife and daughter. Meanwhile, his wife, who has dutifully waited for him, is mistakenly informed that her husband is still imprisoned in Cuba. From this skeleton set-up, the story twists and turns while picking up more Perez family attachments as it goes. Throughout, the film maintains a remarkable tone, bobbing smoothly amongst comedy, heartache, and joy. Also, the film pulses with the rhythms of Miami’s Little Havana and the camerawork is bathed in cinematographer Stuart Dryburg’s warm, tropical glow. Most of all, The Perez Family seems a signature film by director Mira Nair (Salaam Bombay!, Mississippi Masala), who makes some of the most non-Caucasian movies of anyone working in America. Her characters come to the melting pot from all sorts of places and join together in a blending of cultures. As Juan Raul, Molina attains the right mixture of gentle honor and baffled stupefaction. For her part, Huston inhabits the soul of the wife who, after long years of comfort drawn from the familiarity of waiting, discovers the potential for a new life. Huston’s performance is marvelous and anchors the movie. The other characters are spotty, however. Tomei gives the part her all, but it always seems that she’s just play-acting. Other characters are even less fortunate. Juan Raul’s brother, Angel, is all bluster and noise. Celia Cruz plays an even less well developed character, a mystical curandera, who seems thrown in only for spice. Despite these dramatic glitches, The Perez Family has a warm, generous charm that invites you to make yourself at home in its company.
3.0 stars (M.B.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Riverside
Still Playing
BAD BOYS
D: Michael Bay; with Martin Lawrence, Will Smith, Tea Leoni, Tcheky Karyo, Theresa Randle, Marg Helgenberger, Joe Pantoliano.Coming from the notorious Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer production team behind everything from Beverly Hills Cop to the Tom Cruise vehicle Days of Thunder, Bad Boys plays less like the gritty action-comedy picture it aspires to be and more like a disingenuous 126 minutes of slick Hollywood inanities, a cobbled-together series of flashy explosions and none-too-witty banter. Not since the glory days of Michael Mann’s Miami Vice has that city and its police force been portrayed with such reckless, ridiculous disregard for reality. The idea of pairing two of prime-time television’s hottest comics in a racy, bloody, buddy cop film may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but the finished project is just too glossy for its own good, resulting in too many shiny, happy shoot-outs and not enough attention to what is essentially a one-joke story line. Bad Boys oozes Eighties Hollywood clich�s like no film since Top Gun (itself another Simpson/Bruckheimer production). Bad boys, indeed.
1.5 stars (M.S.)
Lakehills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Roundrock
CIRCLE OF FRIENDS
D: Pat O’Connor; with Minnie Driver, Chris O’Donnell, Geraldine O’Rawe, Saffron Burrows, Alan Cummings, Colin Firth, Aidan Gillen.“There’s a lot to be said for those big, soft girls,” remarks one character in Circle of Friends. Indeed there is, especially if they’re played by newcomers such as Minnie Driver, who brings a fresh beauty and disarming frankness to the lead female role of Benny Hogan. Set predominantly at University College in Dublin in the 1950s as three childhood friends enter their first year, Circle of Friends tells the predictable but nonetheless enchanting tale of friendship, secrets, and sex familiar to anyone who’s survived puberty. Theirs is a common friendship, filled both with large doses of loyalty and a smidgen of backstabbing. As the heartily Catholic girls grow into questioning, Catholic young women, the issue of virginity becomes their biggest dilemma: Will their bodies become “gardens for Jesus” or “vessels for sin”? O’Connor’s instincts for telling this tale cinematically are right on target, but the story itself contains some cloying moments. However, Driver’s fine performance carries the story in its most overwrought scenes. Ken MacMillan’s sumptuous camerawork makes the most of Ireland’s rolling hills, cobbled streets, and ruddy faces.
3.0 stars (A.M.)
Highland
DON JUAN DEMARCO
D: Jeremy Leven; with Marlon Brando, Johnny Depp, Faye Dunaway, Rachel Ticotin, Bob Dishy, Talisa Soto.In real life, true love may elude the best of us, but in the enchanting Don Juan DeMarco, affairs of the heart are realized by virtue of one’s simple belief in their existence. Director/screenwriter Leven’s script is awkwardly constructed, but it shines when demonstrating how its title character’s fantasy affects the lives of those around him. As the rejuvenated doctor inspired by his patient to rekindle a marriage of 32 years and to seize the day in his later years, Brando is a marvel. At first, his bulky frame and sagging jowls belie any traditional notion of romance, but as he becomes entranced by his patient’s conviction in the power of love, Brando radiates with the joy of life’s pleasures. Don Juan DeMarco is refreshing in its depiction of love after 50 – neither Brando nor Dunaway (who’s wonderfully unaffected here) are spring chickens, but the depth of their commitment and their understanding of each other speak volumes, so much so that it may evoke jealousy in jaded twentysomethings. As the catalyst for all of this romance, Depp is like this corny but lovely movie; he’s oh-so-difficult to resist.
3.0 stars (S.D.)
Great Hills
A GOOFY MOVIE
D: Kevin Lima; with the voices of Bill Farmer, Jason Marsden, Jim Cummings, Kellie Martin, Rob Paulsen, Wallace Shawn, Jo Anne Worley, Pat Buttram.Even as a child, I hated Goofy, the character. This film, which actually should be titled Son of Goofy, turns out to be a new Goofy. As director Lima says, “Instead of just keeping Goofy one-dimensional as he’s been in the past, we wanted to give an emotional side that would add to the emotional arc of the story. We wanted the audience to see his feelings instead of just his antics.” He’s talking about Goofy, Mickey Mouse’s pal. The movie appears to have forgotten that; instead, it is an adolescent angst drama about his son Max’s ambivalent feelings about having Goofy as a dad and the son’s first experience with love. There are a few comic moments but I’m hard-pressed to think of them. The movie has no audience that I can think of; boys old enough to be interested in the romance don’t go to Goofy cartoons and children young enough to enjoy Goofy will find this too character-driven, plotted, and slow-paced.
1.0 stars (L.B.)
Movies 12, Roundrock
MAJOR PAYNE
D: Nick Castle; with Damon Wayans, Karyn Parsons, William Hickey, Michael Ironside, Albert Hall, Steven Martini, Chris Owen.Damon Wayans does brilliant Damon Wayans shtick in this familiarly themed story of a crusty-hearted (okay, in this case, almost clearly deranged) military man confronting, confounding, and challenging a motley group of shiftless, young prep school students. Philosophically reprehensible, the failure of Major Payne is that director Nick Castle’s musical sensibilities are at odds with Wayans’ explosive Jerry Lewis potential. Unfortunately, there is nothing to recommend Major Payne except occasional bits of Wayans’ near insane performance. The film compounds its sins by defining none of its characters. The film treats the cadets as pawns to Payne’s performance but then doesn’t go far enough with his performance. If only the film had gone a little mad with him. Most of the blame probably belongs to Wayans, who not only starred but co-wrote and co-executive produced.
1.5 stars (L.B.)
Great Hills, Movies 12
OUTBREAK
D: Wolfgang Petersen; with Dustin Hoffman, Rene Russo, Morgan Freeman, Donald Sutherland, Cuba Gooding, Jr., Kevin Spacey.Outbreak has the feel of a movie written by a committee of writers – it’s totally lacking in personality. Starting off promisingly as a medical thriller, it soon mutates into one of those action-packed movies in which the plot points become increasingly preposterous… and you’re aware of its idiocy every second of the way. By the film’s end, the possibility of a killer plague in the United States is overshadowed by the prospect of the American government intentionally killing its own citizenry. Director Petersen is on track in the film’s first half, creating tension in the epidemiological race to solve the puzzle, but once the movie resorts to helicopter chases and other action genre staples, he’s lost control of it. This is Hoffman’s River Wild, but he can’t navigate the rapids; he’s stiff and uncomfortable as an action hero. By the time the obligatory happy ending comes along after heroic (and unbelievable) acts of courage save the day, you’ll probably wish that movies could be vaccinated, so that they don’t succumb to the type of stupid notions that infect Outbreak.
2.5 stars (S.D.)
Great Hills
PRIEST
D: Antonia Bird; with Linus Roache, Tom Wilkinson, Cathy Tyson, Robert Carlyle, James Ellis, Lesley Sharp, Robert Pugh.Priest is an audacious, compelling film that examines the lives of two diametrically opposed yet fundamentally similar Catholic priests in modern Liverpool. Young Father Greg (Roache) is a bit of a holy roller; his sermons ring with fire and brimstone and true religious fervor that loudly clash with the sermons of his fellow priest Father Matthew (Wilkinson). When Father Greg finds himself trapped by the very doctrines he’s been sworn to uphold, he turns his frustration in on himself and seeks solace in the arms of a lover. A male lover… which, of course, leads to further quandaries. Just when you think Priest is getting too, ah, preachy, director Bird injects a solid comic note into the proceedings to let a bit of the hot air out. Priest is less an object lesson about the Church itself than it is a tale about the fight for acceptance, and ultimately, redemption. With a gut-wrenching climax and enough emotional baggage on board to weigh down even the Vatican’s corps of Swiss Guards, Priest is a powerful, touching, and thoroughly riveting portrayal of a crisis in the clergy that rings wonderfully true every step of the way.
4.0 stars (M.S.)
Village
PULP FICTION
D: Quentin Tarantino; with John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Uma Thurman, Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Amanda Plummer, Maria de Medeiros, Ving Rhames, Eric Stoltz, Rosanna Arquette, Christopher Walken, Bruce Willis.Tarantino’s second feature film lights up the screen with the same blazing torch that it carries for the idea of the movies. Though the story is soaked in the stench of criminal echelons, Pulp Fiction is also marked by its humor, its color, its dialogue, narrative strategies, and its characters. With this project, Tarantino presents himself as one of the smartest storytellers around.
4.5 stars (M.B.)
Great Hills
ROB ROY
D: Michael Caton-Jones; with Liam Neeson, Jessica Lange, John Hurt, Tim Roth, Eric Stoltz, Brian Cox, Andrew Keir.With long hair blowing in the chill Highland wind, a swath of MacGregor tartan flung over his shoulder, and sword clattering above his bruised and mud-streaked knees, Liam Neeson fills the kilt of the giant MacGregor (not to mention the big screen) with born-to-it aplomb. Countering Neeson’s quietly formidable Rob is the evil dandy, Cunningham (brilliantly portrayed by Tim Roth), whose effeminate posturing cloaks a deadly efficacy with blades. Unfortunately, not even the trenchant battle between these exceptional players can compete with the conflict inherent in the film itself. Part historical narrative, part epic romance, and part swashbuckling adventure, Rob Roy is overly cultivated, resulting in a stiff, unnatural hybrid that’s quite lovely to look at, but lacking spontaneity. If you’re going to tinker with the conventions of a genre (or two, or three), you’d better do it with verve and wit – two elements missing from Rob Roy. With the tantalizing lure of a sensational cast, a spectacular setting, and 300 years of mythic history, this picture just never delivers the style and action our senses crave.
2.0 stars (H.C.)
Great Hills, Highland, Movies 12, Roundrock
SHALLOW GRAVE
D: Danny Boyle; with Kerry Fox, Christopher Eccleston, Ewan McGregor, Keith Allen, Ken Stott, Colin McRedie.From its opening titles – set against the propulsive rhythms of a techno theme by Leftfield – you know you’re in for something different, something wild. First-time director Boyle scores impressively with this Scottish tale of greed, murder, and the quest for a perfect flatmate that echoes everything from Alan Parker’s The Commitments to The Treasure of Sierra Madre, and never feels anything but wholly original. Boyle keeps the proceedings quick and humorous, despite the gravity of the story. It’s as much a comedy about the modern foibles of roommates as it is a psychological suspense drama, and his camerawork is top-shelf, heightening both the panicky tension that rises as the film moves forward and the desperate comic air the film maintains throughout. For their parts, all three leads are mini-masterpieces of audacious, thoroughly believable acting. Shallow Grave is a bracing, beautifully filmed black comedy-cum-horror show that grabs hold of you in the first few minutes and then refuses to let you go until the bitter, shocking end. Brilliant.
4.0 stars (M.S.)
Dobie
THE UNDERNEATH
D: Steven Soderbergh; with Peter Gallagher, Alison Elliott, William Fichtner, Adam Trese, Joe Don Baker, Paul Dooley, Elizabeth Shue, Shelley Duvall.The Underneath is a diverting piece of moviemaking, thanks primarily to fine direction by Soderbergh, who adeptly manages the narrative’s temporal changes – here, flashbacks critically inform the present – without losing his audience. Essentially an anatomy of a botched armored-car heist, The Underneath is the story of a man (Gallagher, in a solid performance) whose past and present collide, with dire consequences. The film’s pivotal scene is breathtaking, a brilliantly conceived triptych in which the criminal act is set in motion to avert the rage of a jealous husband. Soderbergh uses unworldly primary hues to color his film noir, rather than the traditional contrasts in shadows and light. He also relies heavily upon unsettling close-ups, creating an intimacy with characters that doesn’t always feel quite right. Moreover, the film’s last-minute twist ending unnecessarily undermines the conventions in which it is rooted. Although it’s not perfect, or even near-perfect for that matter, The Underneath nevertheless demonstrates that Soderbergh is, without question, one of today’s better filmmakers.
3.0 stars (S.D.)
Village
WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING
D: Jon Turtletaub; with Sandra Bullock, Bill Pullman, Peter Gallagher, Peter Boyle, Jack Warden, Glynis Johns, Micole Mercurio.From the man who brought us the bizarre Disney hit Cool Runnings and – ouch! – 3 Ninjas, comes this love story: lite, a frothy bit of fluff that goes down as easily as cotton candy and almost as nutritiously. It’s charming, in its own little way, but really, this film has as much substance as a Cirrus cloud, despite fine turns from Boyle as the family patriarch and Warden as Godfather Saul. Bullock, as always, is so goonily charming it’s all you can do not to leap up and try to hug her. In essence, While You Were Sleeping is a swell date movie: romantic, sweet without being cloying, and light on its feet. But that’s all it is.
2.5 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
Previews
A CHINESE ODYSSEY: PANDORA’S BOX
D: Jeff Lau; with Stephen Chaiu, Ng Man Tat.Wildly ambitious and structurally frustrating, yet quite funny and entertaining, Jeff Lau’s first film since the disappointing Chow Yun Fat vehicle Treasure Hunt is also his best since his absurd 1993 masterpiece Eagle Shooting Heroes. And while this two-part epic (Pandora’s Box, the first installment, plays this weekend; the second film, Cinderella, comes in two weeks) never quite achieves the relentlessly inventive comic momentum of Eagle Shooting Heroes, A Chinese Odyssey: Pandora’s Box does manage to surpass it in terms of sheer imagination and fantasy. Based on the legend of the Monkey King, the film offers an unusual mixture of Chinese mythology, “Wu Xia Pian” fantasy, crude comedy, romance, melodrama, sci-fi, and, well…, probably whatever else Lau could think of. The extremely complicated plot follows the misadventures of Joker (Chaiu), the bumbling leader of a den of thieves, who may or may not be the reincarnated Monkey King. A mischievous god who was destroyed some 500 years ago for his rebellious ways, the Monkey King holds the key to locating the powerful (and painfully long-winded) Longevity Monk, another mythological being whose very flesh is desired by the many gods and devils attempting to track him down. The first installment unfolds gradually as various supernatural beings descend on Joker’s camp, all attempting to accomplish two things: figure out if he is really the Monkey King, and find and eat the much-sought-after Longevity Monk. Director Lau keeps the pace moving at breakneck speed, filling the screen with enough comedy, romance, action, monsters, and special effects for two movies, while Chaiu and his trusty sidekick Ng Man Tat give deliriously comic performances appropriate to the picture’s crazed goings-on. Outrageous highlights include a giant spider monster that pulls the Joker’s tooth, an incredible Fantastic Voyage-styled battle inside an opponent’s body (“Don’t step on my intestines!” cries the King Bull), hilariously repeated time-travel attempts, and the most brutal penis abuse ever played for laughs. This is one of the wildest fantasies that the Hong Kong cinema has produced recently, and also marks a solid comeback for director Lau, as well as yet another hit for superstar Chaiu. One complaint, though, is the abrupt, cliffhanger finale that ends, not unlike Back to the Future: Part II, right in the middle of the story, leaving viewers in suspense until the sequel arrives.
3.0 stars (J.O.)
Riverside
A LITTLE PRINCESS
D: Alfonso Cuaron; with Eleanor Bron, Liam Cunningham, Liesel Matthews.Based on a novel written by Frances Hodgson Burnett (The Secret Garden), this latest entry in the kids’ summer film sweepstakes looks like a spirited story of one girl’s capacity to affect the lives of those around her. Mexican director Alfonso Cuaron makes his American debut with this project.
stars (M.B.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Movies 12, Northcross, Roundrock
This article appears in May 19 • 1995 and May 19 • 1995 (Cover).