DESPERADO
D: Robert Rodriguez; with Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, Joaquim de Almeida, Cheech Marin, Steve Buscemi, Quentin Tarantino.During its opening moments, Desperado announces itself as an action picture that demands to be watched, if not for its hyperkinetic staging and riveting fusillade of superhuman physical feats, then for its stunning choreographic vortex that sweeps all action and drama into its ever-escalating cyclone of forward progression. With Desperado, a follow-up to his 1993 ultra-low-budget indie success El Mariachi, Austin-based filmmaker Robert Rodriguez proves that his earlier success was no one-hit wonder. Although El Mariachi trod an unprecedented path to the box office, a path that instantly became the stuff of classic movie lore, Rodriguez demonstrates that studio financing (modest in terms of Hollywood figures yet a veritable Fort Knox in terms of El Mariachi’s much-quoted $7,000 budget) has not gone to his head. Rodriguez is a filmmaking dynamo whose talent derives from his kinetically composed images and vibrantly economic editing style. His lively image flow gathers no dross. Happily, the comforts afforded by Desperado’s larger budget have not endangered Rodriguez’s stylistic economy; instead, the additional funds mean that now Rodriguez can blow things up real good. By the time Desperado’s opening action sequence concludes prior to the opening credits, the viewer has already lost count of all the film’s fatalities. In this prologue, which begins with the bug-eyed narration by Steve Buscemi (in a role written for him – even the fictional character’s name is Buscemi) of the legend of the gunfighting guitar-player El Mariachi, the film has already adopted a kind of comic-book logic, humor, and vitality. Buscemi’s verbal preview and El Mariachi’s subsequent demonstration of his skill and ingenuity in the face of wiping out a bar’s entire patronage, reaffirm the figure’s mythic status – a status that frees him from the bounds of mere human physical constraints. Furthermore, having heartthrob-of-the-month Antonio Banderas portrays El Mariachi in this chapter of the film saga (Desperado cannot exactly be characterized as a sequel to El Mariachi, nor is it a remake; with its new cast and embellished story line, it seems more like a continuing adventure or further episode) certainly adds to the character’s mystique. This maxed-out shoot-’em-up also intertwines a passionate love story within its plot. Popular Mexican TV star Salma Hayek plays a woman who can be every bit as lethal as El Mariachi. When first we see her, she is causing multiple car crashes by merely walking across the street. Visually, Banderas and Hayek make a stunning pair with their long dark hair framing them in a voluptuous cascade, and their sly humor and natural cunning finding in each other a natural fit. Moreover, one of the most unusual aspects of this Hollywood-financed production is its absence of American actors and settings. In Desperado, Mexican figures are portrayed as both the heroes and the bad guys. The soundtrack also features music by Los Lobos. Desperado is a bust-a-gut film experience that reveals Rodriguez as both a stylist versed in the mechanics of popular storytelling and a maverick whose ingenuity guides him along a singular path.
4.0 stars (M.B.)
Dobie, Great Hills, Highland, Movies 12, Riverside, Roundrock
New Review
BEYOND RANGOON
D: John Boorman; with Patricia Arquette, U Aung Ko, Frances McDormand, Spalding Gray, Adelle Lutz.Choosing Patricia Arquette to play an American doctor grieving over the loss of her murdered husband and young son at first seems like a casting coup. Arquette is a hot property these days, and what a chance for her to range beyond the role she is most known for: the definitively white-trash, kooky hooker/wife of Christian Slater’s character in True Romance. Unfortunately Arquette isn’t quite up to the challenge in Beyond Rangoon, Boorman’s (Hope and Glory, Deliverance) take on the real-life saga of Laura Bowman in politically divided Burma in 1988. Bowman (Arquette) travels to Rangoon with her older sister Andy (McDormand), who hopes to distract Laura from her grief and nightmares. When Laura becomes separated from Andy and their tour group, she must make do on her own for a few days. She meets Aung Ko (Aung Ko), a professor out of favor with the dictatorship in power. He offers to take her on a tour while she waits for her plane, and through him she meets more liberals who support Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi (played by Lutz, a dead ringer for the real-life protester and heroine). When a crackdown threatens the lives of Kyi’s supporters, Laura finds herself on the run with Aung Ko. Their desperate flight from the military police and their subsequent journey to the safety of Thailand across the river offer some compelling moments. Despite Arquette’s inability to convince us that she is a doctor, the story itself, based on actual events, manages to keep our interest. And yet the rather abrupt ending is a letdown. We spend much of the film witnessing Laura’s descents into zombie-like trances complete with glazed over eyes, so her triumphant recovery at the end of the film (while normal for people experiencing the stages of grief) appears a bit too heavy handed. Compounding the problem is a script the dialogue of which rarely stretches beyond Zen 101. With his impressive film credentials, Boorman is no slouch, and much of the film’s weak areas seem to belong to Arquette. “Life is too strong in you,” Aung Ko advises Laura when she reveals that she wants only to die. Unfortunately for Beyond Rangoon, the life force in this film is not strong enough to resuscitate a weak script and an even weaker lead performance.
2.0 stars (A.M.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Westgate
THE BROTHERS MCMULLEN
D: Edward Burns; with Burns, Maxine Bahns, Connie Britton, Mike McGlone, Jack Mulcahy.Finally. A movie that lives up to its hype. The Brothers McMullen has been whispered about as a film to watch ever since receiving the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival this past winter. First-time director Burns, an ex-Entertainment Tonight intern, has written a wry and touching script about a family of Irish Catholic brothers, all at different stages of denial toward commitment and Catholicism. The film opens at Mr. McMullen’s burial, an event we later learn was a “celebration” for the McMullens, given their father’s penchant for abuse of the mental, physical, and alcoholic kind. Mrs. McMullen tells her middle son Barry (Burns) not to waste his life married to someone he doesn’t love. Then she departs for Ireland to return to her true sweetheart, who, even after thirty-some years, is still waiting to marry her. Flash to five years later, and Barry and his younger brother Patrick (McGlone), the most devout of the trio, are moving back into the family home on Long Island, now owned by eldest brother Jack (Mulcahy) and his wife Molly (Britton). Over the course of the next few months, we follow the brothers as they fall in and out of love, make stupid mistakes, and generally bolster each other in times of need. Add to this their ongoing debate about the “rules and regulations” of Catholicism. While you don’t have to be Catholic to appreciate this film, those viewers affiliated with the Pope (lapsed, practicing, and in-between) will appreciate the asides about Lent, the Ten Commandments, and the problem of pre-marital sex in the eyes of the Church. These religious overtones color the film, so much so that a heart-to-heart between Jack and Patrick in the bathroom looks a lot like an act of contrition in a confessional during Easter Week. Burns’ scripted dialogue weaves smoothly through the film; it’s easy to pretend that you’re eavesdropping on a friend’s family rather than watching a movie. Granted, Burns gives himself most of the best lines, but even this can be excused given the film’s character development. Not only do we come to know and appreciate Jack, Barry, and Patrick even when they’re at their most unevolved, but we also get to spend time with the women in their lives, especially Molly and Barry’s new girlfriend Audry (Bahns). These women have their shit together, and they know it. So when they spin their wheels while the brothers McMullen sort out their conflicts, it isn’t an act of self-flagellation. Rather, it is the process that women go through when they realize they have met someone who is worth the effort, flaws and all. The Brothers McMullen is certainly worth the effort. It is a rare treat of a film: a debut that exudes freshness and polish all at once. Welcome to the big screen, Mr. Burns.
4.0 stars (A.M.)
Village
CLIVE BARKER’S LORD OF ILLUSIONS
D: Clive Barker; with Scott Bakula, Kevin J. O’Connor, Famke Janssen, Vincent Schiavelli, Barry Del Sherman, Sheila Tousey.Anyone who knows me even remotely knows how much I respect and admire the talents of artist, author, and filmmaker Clive Barker. So it is with a very genuine sense of disappointment that I say that Lord of Illusions is not a worthy horror movie by any means; it is simply a horrible movie. Plodding, fragmented, confusing beyond words, and finally, the ultimate sin, excruciatingly boring. When Barker broke on the cinematic scene back in 1987 with the chilling, fantastical, and thoroughly perverse Hellraiser, all eyes turned toward the young British terror maven in expectation. It seemed, for a point, that he could do no wrong. Then came Nightbreed, his second offering, bungled by the editors and a marketing campaign that left audiences scratching their collective heads. And now this… mess. Based on his short story The Last Illusion, the film follows hardboiled P.I. Harry D’Amour (Bakula, in an interesting choice of casting that’s as hit and miss as a rusty blunderbuss) as he tackles the case of Swann (O’Connor, in a bit of maddeningly awful casting that make you want to cringe), a master illusionist along the lines of David Copperfield meets Harry Houdini. Swann, who may or may not be dead, has apparently incurred the wrath of Nix (Schiavelli), an evil sorcerer out to garner Swann’s soul and destroy D’Amour in the bargain. Barker’s eye is still good – there are a few shots here that recall the phantasmagoric imagery of Nightbreed – but his pacing, his direction, and, more than anything, his dialogue, are all disastrously off-key. Rarely have I heard such gales of unintended laughter erupt from an adult audience during a supposedly “serious and literate” horror film. And, I regret to say, I was whooping it up alongside everyone else. There’s not much else you can do when Bakula grabs Swann’s widow (Janssen) in a rough embrace, practically hollering, “Kiss me, you fool!” Riddled with the worst of film noir and horror film clich�s, Lord of Illusions leave you with the distinct impression that a good twenty-odd minutes of narratively-imperative scenes ended up on the cutting room floor. Jumping wildly from scene to scene and shot to shot, the film just makes no real sense: The narrative flow has been gutshot somewhere along the way and even the most diehard of Barker’s fans are left with a muddled quagmire of vaguely interesting set pieces and the kind of continuity errors usually reserved for early Jackie Chan opuses. Awful in every way, shape, and form (even the score by Dario Argento’s right-hand composer Simon Boswell seems seriously flawed), Lord of Illusions fails at almost every conceivable level, from computer effects on down to the Passaic, New Jersey dinner-theatre dialogue. Fans will be heartsick. Anyone else, go check out Hellraiser and its immediate sequel to see what all the fuss was about.
1.0 stars (M.S.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Riverside, Westgate
DR. LAMB
D: Danny Lee Sau-yin; with Simon Yam Tat-wah, Danny Lee Sau-yin.A film that pushes the limits of bad taste in several key scenes, Dr. Lamb is a slick, and sick, exploitation item that both repels the viewer with its images of disturbing, misogynistic violence, in addition to tickling them with repulsive black humor � la early John Waters. Based on a horrifying true story, the film caused something of a sensation in Hong Kong, setting off a rash of similarly brutal “true crime” pictures. But while a few of these films have bettered their predecessor, Dr. Lamb undoubtedly remains the definitive movie of this particular genre. Directed by actor Danny Lee Sau-yin, who is best known for his role in John Woo’s seminal The Killer, the film follows the gory exploits of disturbed cab driver Lam Gor-Yu, a twisted psychopath who spends his spare time killing, mutilating, and raping women. His habit of taking photos of the dead bodies eventually gives him away, landing him in the hot seat with a squad of abusive Hong Kong cops, led by the charismatic Lee. The direction is assured, the photography quite stylish, and the performances, for the most part, are pretty solid (Simon Yam Tat-wah’s edgy portrayal of Lam is delirious – equally terrifying and hilarious), so why am I so hesitant to recommend Dr. Lamb? For starters, its taboo combination of graphic sex and violence is sure to upset all but the most jaded of viewers, and its inclusion of campy humor into the grisly proceedings will most likely alienate the arthouse crowd who embraced the not entirely dissimilar Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Ultimately, it’s the exploitation crowd who will flock to Dr. Lamb, and they won’t be disappointed, for it does deliver a number of jolting, effective, and totally outrageous set pieces that are indescribable in this forum. All in all, Dr. Lamb is a very well-made exploitation film that makes you long for the return of the drive-ins. But be warned – this trashy shocker’s “Category III” rating (similar to our own NC-17) is very well deserved, and its sordid landscape of confrontational violence and sexual dysfunction is a real downer and likely to haunt your mind for longer than you want it to. Appropriately billed with the equally outrageous, but far lighter and entertaining, Naked Killer.
3.0 stars (J.O.)
Hogg
MINA TANNENBAUM
D: Martine Dugowson; with Romane Bohringer, Elsa Zylberstein.“One friend in a lifetime is much; two are many; three are hardly possible. Friendship needs a certain parallelism of life, a community of thought, a rivalry of aim.” I can’t say whether Martine Dugowson read those words of Henry Brooks Adams before beginning the script for this fanciful parable of friendship, but they certainly apply to the work she has produced. The film follows the entwined lives of Mina and Ethel, two souls both alike and different, who bond to each other as girls and remain steadfast until their lives diverge from parallel tracks. The friendship is born in the girls’ kinship as outcasts: Mina is ostracized for wearing glasses, Ethel for being overweight. They come together as misfit 10-year-olds and provide support for each other through their teens as they try awkwardly to make the social grade. As long as they are beyond the social pale, they are fast friends. But as they reach adulthood and both at last begin to find acceptance – Mina as an unspectacled painter, Ethel as a slender journalist – their paths take different directions, and their friendship begins to suffer. Unfortunately, the same might be said for the film. Initially, Mina Tannenbaum skips with whimsy, in the girls’ endearing insecurities and the playful images Dugowson tosses in, such as a hall full of waltzing nurses or ghost images of the girls as they see themselves: Mina as a rabbinical student, Ethel as a vamp. The further it takes us into Mina and Ethel’s adulthood, however, the more brooding the film becomes. By the end, it has become almost another movie entirely, a needlessly sober, unfortunately obvious melodrama. The sugar of the first half turn to ashes, and it seems wrong, not because it’s unlikable but because the film’s heart seems to lie in whimsy; it feels truest when it’s being playful. Still, even at its most labored, the film is kept watchable by the leads. Bohringer fills Mina with a striking intensity, bright water kept in check, forever turning in on itself, churning. Zylberstein, by contrast, is open sky and dizzying sun; her smile – which really just bursts upon her face – is as bright and appealing as any I’ve seen on film. They bring such light to these characters that their friendship continues to glow when everything around it has gone dim.
3.0 stars (R.F.)
Texas Union
MORTAL KOMBAT
D: Paul Anderson; with Linden Ashby, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Robin Shou, Bridgette Wilson, Talisa Soto, Trevor Goddard, Christopher Lambert.First things first: taken for what it is – a comic book actioneer based on a popular, relentlessly violent video game – Mortal Kombat isn’t half bad. Sure, there’s wooden acting, wooden dialogue, and wooden sets, but on the whole it manages to reach the same level of late summer escapism as some of Tsui Hark’s more accessible Hong Kong chop-socky extravaganzas. And, thankfully, it doesn’t take itself very seriously at all. It is, in essence, the video game transferred part and parcel to the screen, and very well at that. Terrifically loud, bombastic, and over-the-top, Anderson’s film recalls everything from those old Ray Harryhausen Sinbad adventures to more modern teen-oriented fare, throwing in everything and the proverbial kitchen sink. What there is of a plot revolves around three mortal contestants chosen to defeat the Outworld evildoer Shang Tsung (Tagawa, nicely sleazy) in a martial arts battle to save the world. Liu Kang (Shou), Johnny Cage (Ashby), and the voluptuous Sonya Blade (Wilson) are the trio of earthly heroes, and Christopher Lambert (late of Highlander 1-ad infinitum) is Rayden, the wise and wise-cracking silver-maned god on their side. Not much goes on here except for battle after battle and set piece after set piece, but both battles and set pieces are filmed with vigor and originality; there are very few of the too-tight close-ups of blurred hands and feet we so often see in martial arts films, and all three leads are affable, likable cartoon fodder. It’s silly, of course, but more importantly, it’s a hell of a lot of fun, with plenty of above average gags (many from the usually �ber-stoic Lambert, believe it or not) and some nifty Saturday matinee monsters lumbering about and bellowing at the top of their fiery lungs (not to mention the gorgeous Thailand settings). It’s the cinematic equivalent of cotton candy and Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots, but you may recall you loved that stuff as a kid. I know I did.
2.5 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
First Run
BABE
D: Chris Noonan; with James Cromwell, Magda Szubanski.Perhaps one of the cutest children’s films ever made, this tale of the young piglet named Babe who decides his calling in life is to be a sheepdog is also a rousing comedy appropriately filled with a variety of subtle messages, from self empowerment to the importance of treating others as equals, even though they may be, ah, sheep. Produced by the Australian company Kennedy Miller (oddly enough, the same company which produced the hyper-violent Mad Max series) and directed by newcomer Chris Noonan, Babe is one of those movies that makes you positively melt from its guileless charm (never have I heard so many otherwise rational adults succumb to the “ooohs” and “ahhhs” usually reserved for infants encountering their first kaleidescope) without making you feel like a twit. Kids, of course, don’t have that sort of self-consciousness and instead will be cooing and laughing unrestrainedly. When Babe the piglet is taken from his dreary life at the automated pig farm, he ends up at the farm of kindly, taciturn Farmer Hoggett (Cromwell, in a brilliant piece of casting) and his wife (Szubanski). Here he falls in with Hoggett’s sheepdogs, the bitter Rex and motherly Fly and their pups. Fly adopts the lonely innocent as her own, introducing him to the various members of the farm community, from the old matron ewe Maaa, to Ferdinand the duck, while Rex lays down the rules, those being essentially an updating of the Orwellian notion that all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others. Eventually, Babe gets the notion to join Rex and Fly in their duties as sheep herders, and, when he proves to be more adept at the job than they are, Farmer Hoggett takes notice and enrolls the piglet in the local sheepdog trials. Working with 90% live action animals and 10% animatronics courtesy of Jim Henson’s Creature Shop, Babe looks and flows wonderfully. Especially hilarious is a sort of Greek chorus of singing field mice that pops up from time to time, eliciting more chuckles than any of the other members of the menagerie combined. This has been a good year for children’s movies, and Babe is no exception. It’s a clever, witty, touching piece of work that, coincidentally enough, is also a decidedly excellent date movie. Really.
3.5 stars (M.S.)
Great Hills, Highland, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Movies 12, Northcross
THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB
D: Melanie Mayron; with Schuyler Fisk, Bre Blair, Rachael Leigh Cook, Larisa Oleynik, Tricia Joe, Brooke Adams, Ellen Burstyn, Peter Horton, Bruce Davison.Like so many pieces of colored glass, the multiple characters and scenarios of The Baby-Sitters Club constantly shift and reassemble in vivid and fanciful patterns. Turning this kaleidoscope of a movie with a deft hand, Melanie Mayron (thirtysomething) in her big-screen directing debut delivers a quirky little movie that captures a lighter side of the oft-explored, flip, desperate-to-be-hip, angst-ridden, roller coaster ride of adolescence. The Baby-Sitters Club is a conglomeration of story lines from the phenomenally successful series of books by Ann M. Martin about a group of friends whose adventures in baby-sitting are the core around which the travails and drama of their post-pubescent lives unfold. The centerpiece of the picture is a poignant and wonderfully disconcerting story about imperfect parental love. Kristy, the president of the club and an energetic and outspoken tomboy (played with natural exuberance by Sissy Spacek’s daughter, Schuyler Fisk) has an unexpected reunion with her well-meaning but totally unreliable father (Mayron’s thirtysomething cohort, Horton) that pits her fervent desire to be loved and wanted against her natural inclination for openness and honesty and loyalty – qualities her father knows little about. Concurrent stories include one club member’s summer romance with an older boy, another’s struggle to pass science, an emerging friendship with a crotchety neighbor, and the ongoing battle with the sworn enemies of the club, the devious, rainbow-sherbet-clad Cokie, Bebe, and Grace. The movie zips from one story to another, going through as many mood swings in its hour and 20 minutes as an average 13-year-old girl goes through in, well, an hour and 20 minutes. Bright and cluttered and engaging, The Baby-Sitters Club has a youthful buoyancy and whimsical rhythm that catches even the most jaundiced (i.e., 16-year-old) viewers up in its play of light and energy.
3.0 stars (H.C.)
Great Hills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
DANGEROUS MINDS
D: John N. Smith; with Michelle Pfeiffer, George Dzundza, Courtney B. Vance.Michelle Pfeiffer stars as LouAnne Johnson, an ex-Marine with designs on becoming a schoolteacher, who serves as the Great White Hope to the “dangerous minds” of the title: a classroom of ill-mannered, cynical kids who have lost all interest in learning and have more or less resigned themselves to rather dismal futures. Of course, as anyone who’s seen this kind of picture knows, the rest of the story should be pretty easy to guess; we all know that she’s going to put these wayward tots on the right path through her caring, persistence, and cleverness. Never mind that the movie’s plot is a tired one and that the script doesn’t even try to re-work this particular genre’s cliches… like Pfeiffer’s B-Boy stance on the film’s poster, something about Dangerous Minds just feels bogus. Perhaps it has something to do with the aseptic TV-movie atmosphere that hangs over the entire production, or the way it asks us to buy the idea that old Bob Dylan tunes, karate, and candy bars are going to turn a bunch of hardened inner-city kids on to the joys of education. Although it’s based on a true story, Dangerous Minds just doesn’t seem to take place in the real world (the real LouAnne Johnson, who wrote the autobiographical book upon which this movie is based, has been fairly vocal in noting the film’s numerous deviations from reality). Ultimately, the film seems more like an excuse to see how many times the filmmakers can manage to get Coolio’s (admittedly catchy) “Gangster’s Paradise” on the soundtrack than to educate or uplift potential viewers. As far as Pfeiffer’s performance goes, she’s got charm and pep to spare, but next to zero substance when it comes to exploring her character’s particular hypocrisies and pretensions. About the only thing that keeps Dangerous Minds from being a total washout is the humor and energy of the young actors portraying Pfeiffer’s students. They provide, almost without exception, nearly every single memorable moment in the film. But by the time the picture has entered its extremely weak third act, in which the whole enterprise glides toward a boring, predictable, and annoyingly cornball non-ending, even their collective appeal isn’t enough to keep us interested. Needless to say, Dangerous Minds doesn’t make the grade.
1.5 stars (J.O.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Westgate
DRUNKEN MASTER 1
D: Yuen Woo Ping; with Jackie Chan, Simon Yuen.A rare chance to see Jackie Chan’s original 1978 kung fu/comedy classic on the big screen where it belongs, Drunken Master is a real treat for martial arts film fans. The thin story finds Chan turning the legend of real-life folk hero Wong Fei Hung on its ear, playing the famous do-gooder as a rambunctious, bratty youngster always getting into fights. In an attempt to straighten him out, Chan’s father sends him to be disciplined with the titular drunken master, an old beggar who teaches Fei Hung the secrets of “drunken boxing,” a fighting style based upon the staggering movements of drunkards. As directed by Yuen Woo Ping, Drunken Master is, basically, one long fight sequence, occasionally interrupted by the picture’s many set pieces that underscore the torturous training. The chemistry between Chan and his newfound master (played by legendary Peking Opera actor Simon Yuen) continues the charming rapport they began in their previous hit Snake in the Eagles Shadow (and, to a far lesser extent, in Chan’s first starring role, 1971’s mediocre Little Tiger of Canton), providing one of the most memorable (and imitated) master-student relationships in the genre. Yuen Woo Ping’s direction is wildly energetic. His fight choreography – strongly assisted by Chan, no doubt – is nothing less than groundbreaking. The movie shamelessly mixes slapstick ranging from crude to clever with traditional martial arts stances and acrobatics, and deftly fills the CinemaScope frame with brilliant movement. Undoubtedly, there will be many who snub their noses at the film’s lack of plot, and, admittedly, Drunken Master is far from brain food. However, not unlike the silent films of Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd – or for that matter, the best pictures of Hong Kong’s kung fu output in the Seventies – the genius of Drunken Master lies in its kinetics. It’s pure entertainment and a true chopsocky classic.
4.0 stars (J.O.)
Hogg
FUN
D: Rafael Zelinsky; with Alicia Witt, Renee Humphrey, William R. Moses, Leslie Hope, Ania Suli.Based on screenwriter James Bosley’s stage play, Fun is a harrowing glimpse into the world of desperate friendship gone horribly awry. Bonnie and Hillary (Witt and Humphrey) are 14-year-old girls who meet, become best friends, and end up butchering an old lady, all in the course of one day. Zelinsky uses the girl’s juvenile hall interviews with a smarmy print reporter (Moses) and his social worker counterpart (Hope) as a framing device, allowing us to see their actions from their point of view as well as that of society at large. Bonnie and Hillary’s rationale, or lack thereof, however, is shocking in its mundanity: the morally bankrupt team did it just for “fun.” Witt, as Bonnie, is all hyperactive flailing. When she first meets with her counselor, she refuses to sit down, choosing instead to dance around the spartan room like some incarcerated Tasmanian Devil. She’s as needy as they come, bragging about the terrific sex she’s had with her boyfriend and continually raising the ante with her uncaptive subject. Bonnie, on the other hand, is taciturn and withdrawn, the victim of child abuse and ultimately the one who comes up with the idea to commit the murder. They’re two halves of the same coin. Comparisons to Peter Jackson’s Heavenly Creatures are to be expected, but whereas Jackson’s film played down much of the reality of the situation in terms of both hyperreality and outright fantasy, Fun goes straight for the jugular, using various cinema verit� styles including hand-held camera work and 16mm black-and-white to force the viewer deeper into the nightmare. Brilliantly done from beginning to end, it’s a simultaneously bittersweet and repellent look at desperate teenage love. Recommended.
3.5 stars (M.S.)
Dobie
A KID IN KING ARTHUR’S COURT
D: Michael Gottlieb; with Thomas Ian Nichols, Joss Ackland, Ron Moody, Paloma Baeza.Considering the fact that there are well-documented cases of near infants being called upon to rescue helpless adults from the clutches of unprogrammable VCRs and terrifying screen messages like “general program protection fault,” it stands to reason that the latest re-telling of Mark Twain’s classic, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court would be a Disney effort with a kid in the title role. Modern day dweeb Calvin Fuller (literally) drops out of the dugout and back in time about 1,600 years. It seems that Arthur’s Camelot has fallen on hard times, its elderly king duped by the conniving Lord Belasco. Merlin, now a ghostly, discombobulated head floating in a magic well, misfires in his attempt to stop the knight in tarnished armor, bringing the gawky no-hitter in to save the kingdom. Not that Calvin is totally unprepared. His backpack is full of wondrous twentieth century treasures – superglue, a CD player, rollerblades, and Mad Dog chewing gum. But, as it turns out, this kid is no McGyver, his use of high tech ingenuity to enlighten the Dark Agers surprisingly restrained. Instead, the movie equips its unlikely champion with age-old, singularly human attributes such as courage and honor and love. Nichols essentially reprises his Rookie of the Year role as a less-than-stellar baseball player whose life is changed by an extraordinary turn of events. Despite a goofy hairdo and a voice that cracks as often as my office mate’s gum, he still shines as the charmingly ordinary hero. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of his current vehicle. Even with Nichols, decent production values, a pair of plucky princesses, and a few pleasant surprises tucked here and there, A Kid in King Arthur’s Court is a pretty prosaic picture. There are simply not enough sparks here to fire the imagination. While its cool, cavernous castle scenes offer a pleasant afternoon respite from the August heat, this version of the fabled kingdom is not the stuff of which legends are made.
0.5 stars (H.C.)
Great Hills, Movies 12, Northcross, Roundrock, Westgate
PARTY GIRL
D: Daisy von Scherler Mayer; with Parker Posey, Omar Townsend, Sasha von Scherler, Guillermo Diaz, Anthony DeSando, Donna Mitchell, Liev Schreiber, Nicole Bobbitt.Party Girl will do for library science what Saturday Night Fever did for disco. Well, maybe. At the least this film – Mayer’s feature debut and a favorite at the SXSW Film Festival earlier this year – will allow audiences to see more of Parker Posey, whose previous supporting roles in films like Dazed and Confused and Sleep With Me only hinted at her sly comic timing and her fun-at-all-costs attitude (many appropriately have described her as a Holly Golightly for the Nineties, both in and out of character). Posey plays Mary, queen of a social whirl made up of various Manhattan hipsters who live to club, throw outrageously fun parties, and wear incredibly memorable outfits put together with more personal style than cash. When Mary lands in jail after organizing one of her too-successful “promotions,” she throws herself on the mercy of her librarian godmother Judy (Sasha von Scherler, the director’s mother). Judy reluctantly offers Mary a clerking position at the library, which sets the stage for many hilarious confrontations and a little bit of drunken soul searching. Mary’s future career as a library science specialist is foreshadowed early in the film when she carefully arranges her wardrobe according to designer, clothing item, and fashion era. During her quest to learn further the benefits of the Dewey Decimal system, Mary meets and pursues a Lebanese teacher-turned-pushcart-vendor named Mustafa (Townsend); negotiates a club job for her deejay-friend Leo (Diaz); and impatiently listens to Derrick (DeSando) whine about his Mr. Right, a one-night stand living somewhere in Manhattan. Mary’s story isn’t that much different from other coming-of-age stories on film these days, but zippy one-liners written by co-scripters Mayer and Harry Birckmayer, delivered with razor-sharp precision by Posey, spice up the all-too-familiar tale. Add to the speedy dialogue the latest in club music and a truly entertaining wardrobe, not to mention the ambiance of downtown Manhattan, and Party Girl becomes as freshly appealing as its opening credit sequence. Party Girl’s campiness occasionally wears thin, but this is done so good-naturedly that it is easy to overlook, just like Mary’s self-absorption. Party Girl strives only to be as fun and lighthearted as its namesake. Posey’s romp through this film is probably the best thing about Party Girl; she just may be the next “It” girl.
3.0 stars (A.M.)
Dobie
A WALK IN THE CLOUDS
D: Alfonso Arau; with Keanu Reeves, Aitana Sanchez-Gijon, Anthony Quinn, Giancarlo Giannini, Angelica Aragon, Evangelina Elizondo.Describing his experiences in World War II to his new acquaintance Victoria Aragon (Sanchez-Gijon), Paul Sutton (Reeves) declares, “Once the shooting starts, you just go blank.” Never have I heard a more fitting description of Reeves’ acting. How this overrated and monotonal actor could have been cast in director Arau’s Hollywood debut is beyond me. A Walk in the Clouds marks Arau’s follow-up to the much-acclaimed Like Water for Chocolate, whose blend of magical realism, comedy, and sensuality enthralled international audiences. Arau’s second film contains a similar blend of these elements; it is a story of fate, love, and family honor. Based on the Italian film Four Steps in the Clouds, Arau’s loose adaptation reflects the filmmaker’s own Mexican roots. Taking place just after the end of the war, the film tells the tale of Paul’s arrival home to San Francisco to a changed world and a wife who never read his letters. Disoriented and disheartened, he leaves the next day on a journey to gain some perspective about his future. A chance meeting on a train introduces him to Victoria, a master’s candidate who’s pregnant and abandoned with her professor’s child. Paul is leaving his home; Victoria is returning to hers in the Napa Valley, a vineyard idyll owned by her tightly-knit Mexican family. The two devise a plan in which Paul poses as her husband, but their welcome is marred by Victoria’s father Alberto (Giannini). A proud and decent man, he is nonetheless blinded by his own fears and prejudices, which results in profound consequences for the Aragon family fortune. A Walk in the Clouds has sweet moments of humor and sensuality interspersed among a few rather flat scenes. As the Aragon patriarch Don Pedro, Quinn is superb. Like a larger-than-life sprite, he coaxes and cajoles Paul into realizing his love for Victoria. Giannini is equally wonderful as a man of grand and passionate gestures, both in love and anger. Making her American debut, Sanchez-Gijon also gives an impressive performance. Despite Reeves’ one-dimensional acting, there does exist a smoldering chemistry between the two actors. Luscious images by cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki add to the sensuality of A Walk in the Clouds. But alas, Reeves sticks out like a bad grape in an otherwise acceptable harvest. Having taken this role to broaden his acting horizons, his gain is the film’s loss. In one of the film’s more poignant moments, Paul and Victoria toast to “what if.” Their toast is all the more bittersweet when applied to A Walk in the Clouds: what if someone else had been cast in place of Reeves? Here’s to a somewhat flawed but enjoyable film, and to what-ifs.
2.5 stars (A.M.)
Arbor, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Riverside, Roundrock
Still Playing
APOLLO 13
D: Ron Howard; with Tom Hanks, Bill Paxton, Kevin Bacon, Gary Sinise, Ed Harris, Kathleen Quinlan, Mary Kate Schellhardt.Ron Howard’s take on the ill-fated 1970 moon shot is a big step forward from his previous two films – Backdraft and The Paper – which were generally muddled exercises in how an excellent filmmaker can get lost in his own story. Apollo 13 has no such problems, and as such, it’s a riveting, nail-biting, two-buckets-of-popcorn return to form for Howard, filled with the almost unassailable heroics of the U.S. space program and the genuine urgency of history. The story, by Texans William Broyles, Jr., and Al Reinert, is equally compelling, playing up the interesting notion that by the time this third moon shot came around, not even the media was very interested in the space race anymore until something went awry. Howard pulls out all the stops on this one and the performances are uniformly wonderful: It’s almost a valentine to NASA, but without the celestial mythologizing of films like The Right Stuff. Oddly, some of the integral special effects in the film – and they are integral – seem less than perfect but, overall, Apollo 13 succeeds and may be the only summer adventure blockbuster without bullets or warheads.
3.5 stars (M.S.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Lakehills
CLUELESS
D: Amy Heckerling; with Alicia Silverstone, Stacey Dash, Brittany Murphy, Paul Rudd, Donald Faison, Breckin Meyer, Jeremy Sisto, Justin Walker, Wallace Shawn, Twink Calan, Dan Hedaya.Rarely do you find a film so aptly titled as this one. Director Heckerling, who scored so well so long ago with the brilliant, seminal Fast Times at Ridgemont High, returns to cloyingly similar territory in what is essentially a mediocre Nineties updating of that previous film. Silverstone and the ensemble cast of generic high-schoolers (including a phenomenally ill-used Wallace Shawn replacing the Ray Walston character from Fast Times) tweak their way through a Fox sitcom-quality string of cheap gags and ham-handed teen angst that isn’t so much humorous as it is boring. Perhaps it’s unfair to keep returning to the comparison with Fast Times, but those characters – as portrayed by Judge Reinhold, Phoebe Cates, Sean Penn, et al. – seem, in retrospect, to have been achingly more realized. The kids here just mope, pout, and whine to varying degrees until you want to ship them all off to Rock ‘n’ Roll High School so the Ramones can take a crack at ’em (“Teenage Lobotomy” never sounded so accurate). Clueless indeed.
1.0 stars (M.S.)
Movies 12, Roundrock, Westgate
CRUMB
D: Terry Zwigoff.Though Crumb is packed with information and telling details about the artist, the movie’s objective is hardly art history or a survey of R. Crumb’s place in the world of comics. The movie aims for broader subject matter, to discover something about the role art plays in the life of the artist, and about how the release of art may, indeed, allow the artist to function as a stable human being. Crumb is also about the Crumb family, a unit that, in addition to his wife and children, includes Crumb’s mother, vestigial traces of a deceased father, two brothers, Charles and Max, and two sisters, who declined to be interviewed. Crumb is most fascinating when it’s exploring the chicken-and-egg conundrum. Can art be a buffer between sanity and the abyss, can it expiate all our ugliness within, can it instigate its own path of madness? In Crumb, we have a disturbing portrait of three brothers whose early art experiences were similar, but who all grew quite differently. For R. Crumb, art-making may be his redemption.
4.0 stars (M.B.)
Dobie
THE NET
D: Irwin Winkler; with Sandra Bullock, Jeremy Northam, Dennis Miller, Diane Baker.Conceived as a kind of Alfred Hitchcock meets John Grisham thriller, The Net merely proves what makes those guys such pros and makes producer-director Irwin Winkler (Night and the City) such a heavy-handed knockoff. The Net is sensationalism sans substance – a hip topic, a hot actress, and a hokey script. Professional hacker Angela Bennett (Bullock) is a meek young woman who works at home and communicates with her employer and colleagues by computer. She stumbles across a conspiracy, which in turn erases her identity more expeditiously than leftists are “disappeared” in Argentina. For the plot to work at all, it is essential that there not be a soul who can identify her: not a neighbor, not a co-worker, not a relative, not a friend. Is this really possible, even given the most hermetic computer nerd? Loss of identity is a central Hitchcock theme and the source for much of his movies’ suspense. All the evil-doing is simply the MacGuffin that prompts the identity crisis. The Net reverses that formula; recovering her identity means returning Angela to her mousy self, and the suspense derives from figuring out how wide the evil net has been cast. But in terms of suspense, this Net is full of holes.
1.5 stars (M.B.)
Arbor, Highland, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Riverside
POCAHONTAS
D: Mike Gabriel and Eric Goldberg; with the voices of Irene Bedard, Judy Kuhn, Mel Gibson, David Ogden Stiers, Russell Means, Linda Hunt.Here is a movie that knows its target audience. Pocahontas’ arrow, tipped with tender romance and feathered with spirited folklore, hits the bulls-eye dead on. If you can get past the frenzied hype and a liberal license with historical accuracy (and I challenge you to show me a seven-year old who can’t), this latest Disney effort rivals the animated features from the fabled studio’s heyday. Like the best Disney cartoons, Pocahontas is both resplendent and restrained. The rousing action sequences are brief but compelling counterpoints to the beautiful simplicity of the piece. The animation is wonderful. Pocahontas is lovely and while the animators have succumbed to the modern day heroine’s seeming requisite – impossible Barbie doll physiology – they have also imbued her with a spirit so innocent and a bearing so noble that it precludes a too-lascivious allure. The characters are nicely vocalized, the studio scoring a magnificent coup with Russell Means’ portrayal of Pocahontas’ father, Chief Powhatan. Composer Allen Menken is back, and his music lifts the movie to lofty heights.
3.5 stars (H.C.)
Great Hills
THE POSTMAN (IL POSTINO)
D: Michael Radford; with Massimo Troisi, Philippe Noiret, Maria Grazia Cucinotta, Linda Moretti, Renato Scarpa, Anna Bonaiuto.The Postman is an Italian co-production whose history is as tragically romantic as the poetry of one of its main characters, Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. It is loosely based on a novel about an incident in Neruda’s life when he was befriended by a young postman while living in Italy. Together with Radford, The Postman’s lead actor Massimo Troisi had worked diligently since 1990 to bring the story to the screen; both he and Radford share screenwriting credit with three other writers. Sadly, Troisi passed away from a heart condition the day after principal photography was completed on the film. Set in 1952 during the time of Neruda’s exile from Chile to a small island off the southern coast of Italy, the film recounts the friendship between the aging Communist poet and the shy, directionless son of a fisherman who knows only that he does not want to follow in his father’s footsteps. The Postman also is a love story of the first order, a sweet Cyrano tale and, in fact, one of the sweetest stories on film this summer. Slow in parts but appealing overall, The Postman suggests how interwoven the bonds of friendship and love can be. With lyrical beauty and memorable performances, The Postman articulates many feelings that seem to defy explanation.
3.5 stars (A.M.)
Village
THE SECRET OF ROAN INISH
D: John Sayles; with Jeni Courtney, Eileen Colgan, Mick Lally, Richard Sheridan, John Lynch, Gerard Rooney, Susan Lynch, Cillian Byrne.Sayles’ new film is a swirl of mystery and enchantment, of romance between men and mystical creatures, of a baby abducted by animals, of his sister who resolves to win him back, and in so doing restore her family’s place on Roan Inish. It’s a tale of old ties that we’ve set aside but which are still important and for which we still yearn, and Sayles tells it in a remarkable way, in a swirl of history, nature, and folklore that speaks to all ages. He doesn’t so much “capture” the rhythm and spirit of Irish coastal life as ride alongside them, matching their pace and rising and falling with them, like a seal through the tide. The atmosphere of this world is thick and pungent; it washes over us in the lyrical language, in the lovely performances, in the sounds of Uillean pipes and penny whistles on Mason Daring’s Celtic score, in the crisp cinematography of Haskell Wexler. Roan Inish conjures magic, but does so without relying on technical wizardry. Instead, it creates wonder in the unexpected.
4.0 stars (R.F.)
Dobie
SHALLOW GRAVE
D: Danny Boyle; with Kerry Fox, Christopher Eccleston, Ewan McGregor, Keith Allen, Ken Stott, Colin McRedie.From its opening titles, 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. 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
SMOKE
D: Wayne Wang and Paul Auster; with William Hurt, Harvey Keitel, Stockard Channing, Harold Perrineau, Jr., Forest Whitaker, Giancarlo Esposito, Ashley Judd, Victor Argo.As beguiling and as ephemeral as its title, Smoke is a movie that draws you in and lingers a while in your bloodstream. It’s certainly not harmful to your system but like those darned cigarettes, Smoke leaves you wanting another not long after the last one has been extinguished. Knockout ensemble performances like these don’t come around all that often, and when they do they ought to be savored. The performances here are smokin’. On the other hand, the story that connects all these characters is a bit wan. The movie is structured as a series of converging vignettes; however, the story lines never converge as completely as one might like. Yet, obviously there were more stories to tell here since while Smoke was being shot, director Wang (The Joy Luck Club) and Auster spun off another film, Blue in the Face, that was shot in the three days following the completion of Smoke. Can’t wait: Even if it never all comes together, the fumes are quite intoxicating.
3.5 stars (M.B.)
Village
SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT
D: Lasse Hallstrom; with Julia Roberts, Robert Duvall, Gena Rowlands, Kyra Sedgwick, Dennis Quaid, Haley Aull.In this film by Swedish director Hallstrom (My Life as a Dog, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?) , a family is laid bare, warts and all, and made to seem ideal, ugly, weak, and strong all at the same time. Screenwriter Callie (Thelma & Louise). Khouri’s dialogue contains some sweet surprises. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on Grace (Roberts), a young Southern wife estranged from her philandering husband Eddie (Quaid), she utters some line that reveals a little more depth than is at first apparent. Grace spends the movie trying to address her emotions and needs. Battling not only her husband but her domineering, horse-breeding father (expertly played by Duvall), Grace struggles against expectations and years of tradition to pinpoint her own goals. Roberts and Quaid work well together onscreen. The luminous Gena Rowlands, Sedgwick, and Aull round out a well-chosen cast. And the inimitable cinematography of Sven Nykvist captures all of the natural beauty of South Carolina and Georgia. Perhaps the most satisfying aspect of this film is its lack of tidy closure. As in life, compromises are reached and battles continue. The characters react to one another with love, anger, subtle manipulation, and generosity. While the film does have its overwrought moments and Southern clich�s, Something to Talk About is a pleasant surprise amidst a summer of big hype and little payoff.
3.0 stars (A.M.)
Arbor, Highland, Movies 12, Riverside, Roundrock, Westgate
VIRTUOSITY
D: Brett Leonard; with Denzel Washington, Kelly Lynch, Russell Crowe, Stephen Spinella, William Forsythe, Louise Fletcher.Director Leonard returns to the virtual reality setting of The Lawnmower Man with this sophomore effort that asks the burning question: “What would happen if a renegade VR program came to life?” (Well, okay, so maybe that’s more like a smoldering question.) Washington is Parker Barnes, an ex-LAPD detective incarcerated for a crime he didn’t commit. When a VR composite of 200 serial killers named Sid 6.7 (nicely essayed by Crowe) is let loose on the world, Barnes is set free to track down and eliminate the killer. Leonard’s film, instead of tackling what could have been a nifty piece of cyber-socio-commentary, coughs up a tired, clich�d bit of cops and robbers tedium that begs, borrows, and steals its narrative from everything from Escape From New York and Terminator 2 to Washington’s own Ricochet. There’s not much to chew on here and even the action sequences are shoddily directed. Despite some breathtaking, computer-generated special effects, Virtuosity is 95 minutes of unsubstantial firefights and meandering plot twists. Does that make this virtual filmmaking?
1.5 stars (M.S.)
Movies 12, Riverside
WATERWORLD
D: Kevin Reynolds; with Kevin Costner, Dennis Hopper, Jeanne Tripplehorn, Tina Majorino, Michael Jeter, Zakes Mokae.If you can work your way past the monumental anti-hype and ill-will surrounding this most expensive of all films, you’ll find Reynolds and Costner’s enfant terrible of a movie isn’t so terrible after all. Set in a future where a cataclysm has melted the ice caps, Waterworld is just that: an environment sans terra firma. Sailing across this expanse are the last footholds of humanity: the Atollers, who have created a vast, floating community; the Smokers, vile marauders led by the over-the-top Hopper; and the Mariner (Costner), a lone, web-footed scavenger. When the Mariner is pressed into aid by a stranded woman and her young charge (Tripplehorn and Majorino), he must choose between a solitary life or the more noble route of Savior of Humankind. Reynolds’ film is essentiallyMad Max remade by Greenpeace, but it succeeds nicely on its own merits. Sure, there’s the occasional plot hole that gapes wider than the maw of Spielberg’s Jaws, but Costner’s misanthropic characterization and all the terrific stunts allow you to forget logic and just have a good time watching things blow up. Waterworld is a near-model summer fantasy: two hours and 21 minutes of loud, expansive fun.
3.0 stars (M.S.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Roundrock, Westgate
Previews
THE AMAZING PANDA ADVENTURE
D: Christopher Cain; with Stephen Lang, Yi Ding, Ryan Slater.What hath Free Willy wrought? Yet another in the recent spate of kid-pics that emulate that film’s successful formula of troubled-youngster-meets-captive-beast, troubled-youngster-bonds-with-captive-beast, troubled-youngster-defies-all-the-political/capitalistic/military-resources-of-the-Western-world-to-release-captive-beast-into-the-wild. For this round, the setting is China, the beast a panda cub, the captors poachers. You do the math.
stars (R.F.)
Great Hills, Lake Creek, Lakehills, Lincoln, Movies 12, Northcross, Roundrock
DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE
D: David Price; with Sean Young, Tim Daly, Lysette Anthony, Harvey Fierstein.A comedy that tries to go Mrs. Doubtfire one better: Its hero doesn’t just dress like a woman, he actually turns into one! Now, that’s comedy! Believe it or not, this isn’t the first film to give Robert Louis Stevenson’s gentle physician a sex change when he drinks a certain potent potable (the 1972 horror flick Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde did that earlier), but it is the first to have him transform into Sean Young. Oooo, scary.
stars (R.F.)
Great Hills, Highland, Movies 12, Northcross, Riverside, Westgate
KIDS
D: Larry Clark; with Leo Fitzpatrick, Yakira Peguero.The lives of modern urban teens gets a stark close-up in this feature debut by noted photographer Larry Clark. In the vein of his photo books Tulsa and Teenage Lust, Kids captures teens being teens during a set time period, in this case, 24 hours on the hottest day of the year. Nineteen-year-old Harmony Korine contributed the screenplay, which is said to offer a blunt and raw portrayal of sexuality and attitude among today’s youth.
stars (R.F.)
Lincoln, Village
This article appears in August 25 • 1995 and August 25 • 1995 (Cover).