Month: September 2000

(On VHS, September 2000) Little-seen low-budget Canadian film starring Newsradio‘s David Foley as a man who thinks himself falsely suspected of his boss’ murder. Clever premise for a take-off on Hitchcock’s thrillers (the credit sequence will hammer this home), but unfortunately, Foley’s character is written as too much of a doofus to be as sympathetic to the audience as Gary Cooper, James Stewart et al. It doesn’t help that the film deviates from its Hitchcockian mold and loses itself in sort of a travelogue across America. Jennifer Tilly disappoints with a short haircut. It’s not that the film is bad; there are a lot of laughs, David Foley is as good as usual and the film doesn’t feel like it’s low-budget. But it’s a disappointment that it can’t do more with what it starts out with.

(On TV, September 2000) Even those who can’t stand Kevin Costner should be able to enjoy his turn in this sports (golf) comedy. That Renee Russo is there, looking hotter than ever, should placate the last holdovers. Not a great film by any measure, nor much of a comedy, but it lets itself be watched easily, and the film boasts a few interesting set-pieces. (Most memorable are the two bets between protagonist and antagonist, as well as the protagonist’s fascination for one very specific club.) The ending is interesting, simultaneously damning and following the usual sport conventions by turning victory into defeat and definite defeat into victory. Too imperfect to be all-fun (there are two painful scenes) but worth a look, if not dollars.

(On TV, September 2000) Okay, so I’m cheating: I only watched the first ten and last five minutes of this TV movie. Why the heck do I feel able to comment on it, then? Because I can interpolate the rest of this strictly-routine Antarctic-base monster film from what I’ve seen. No surprises, no difficulty to follow despite having missed 90% of the film. Draw whatever conclusion you want from that simple observation… They might have simply called it The Thing: The Cheap Version and be done with it.

(On VHS, September 2000) Funny how this film can appear to be many things to many people: Romance, Drama, Philosophical Exploration, Fantasy, Science-Fiction or plain old Experiment. In any case, the film follows the adventures of a young woman (Gwyneth Paltrow, in a good turn) whose life is affected in a tiny way that has dramatic consequences. The narrative alternately follows two different paths from that nexus point. Alternate universes? Plain fantasy concept? Whatever the justification, the script is well-written, and if there aren’t as many inter-linking between the two universes as one might have hoped, the dialogue is sharp enough to keep us absorbed in the storylines. The banter between “good-guy” and “bad-hair heroine” is particularly interesting. The conclusion is a downer, though it’s hard to say how else the film might have ended in order to wrap everything up. The French video version of the film has English captioning, which allows to see how the translation loses a lot of the subtle humor of the original script. In any case, an interesting film, and one that should please many very different audiences.

(On VHS, September 2000) Dennis Rodman as the star of a new spy-movie franchise? Computer-expert monks? A gorgeous female assassin? A prissy Englishman villain? A Romeo-and-Juliet subplot? Wisecracks by an inept sidekick? Yellow motorcycles, big weapons and a gliding gadget-car? Yes, it’s bad, but not as bad as you might think for what basically amount to a vanity project for Rodman. The impressive cinematography helps a lot (can you go wrong by filming in Mediterranean France?) and if the script does no wonders, it seems to have at least a hint of self-derision to it. Granted, there are plenty of cringe-inducing moments, like two really bad CGI shots and the awful line “let’s work out”, but as a whole, it’s a surprisingly diverting film that should fit the bill for an otherwise-unoccupied Saturday evening… and long as you don’t expect anything.

(On VHS, September 2000) At first glance, this would appear to be a gambling film, but pay closer attention and you’ll find the structure of a typical sports film here, with the only difference being that the sport here is poker. (“If it’s such a game of luck, why is it that the same players end up finalist at the national tournament?” asks the film) The details of the game and the associated culture are fascinating, and the film does a great job at presenting the inherent drama of the sport. Great actors abound, from Matt Damon and Ed Norton to John Malkovich as a ridiculously accented Russian player. Maybe not as strong as it could have been, but more interesting than not.

(On VHS, September 2000) This goes straight in the “quirky indie film” category at first glance, what with is starkly supersaturated black-and-white cinematography, its abuse of repetitive sequences, self-supported cameras, flashy direction and pretentious narration. Nevertheless, there’s some depth to the film, and it takes chances. As a first-time feature, it show promise for its director Darren Aronofsky. Viewers with some scientific and technical literacy will quickly see through the film’s techno-babble. The ending is somewhat disappointing, but fits the overall film quite well. Worth a look if you’re in that type of experimental film, but definitely not a crowd-pleaser.

(On VHS, September 2000) This film makes good use of David Schwimmer’s (TV’s “Friends”) puppy-dog charm, but that’s the extent of the film’s strength. The rest is just ordinary romantic comedy material, based upon a mistaken-identity premise that borders on the uncomfortable. Gwyneth Paltrow is bland in the lead female role, and the other characters are ill-defined. It’s hard to dislike a competently made romantic comedy, but it’s much easier to be unimpressed, and that’s pretty much what The Pallbearer leaves with us.

(On VHS, September 2000) The problem with classics is that they’re almost inevitably copied everywhere. It’s even worse with One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest because it’s set in such the immediately outlandish milieu of psychiatric hospitals. Seeing it again today brings involuntary memories of pretty much all asylum movies since then, most notably Girl Interrupted and Patch Adams. It should be acknowledged that One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest hasn’t really aged a lot since 1975 –especially in comparison with its contemporaries. Jack Nicholson is still as good as the protagonist, and the the supporting characters are all developed with a surprising amount of depth. On the other hand, it’s not a pleasant film; I didn’t want to be there most of the time, and the film kept adding one unrelated vignette after another. Keep watching, however, as this is a film that’s redeemed by a few cheap dramatics at the end. Manipulative as it is, it’s still effective.

(On VHS, September 2000) Released only a few months after the “other” mob comedy Analyze This, this Hugh Grant vehicle works, but only just. It’s rather more funny than expected in its first half, but a few unwise plot choices, scripting problems and predictable ending take away from the film’s enjoyment. (The script problems get worse and worse as the film advances. Just ask yourself why everyone has to be at the end wedding.) The film is unsuccessful at marrying (ho-ho) comedy with the omnipresent threat represented by the mafia. Some setups are so obvious they’re ridiculous. Jeanne Tripplehorn looks remarkably like Geena Davis in this film—the fact that her character is named Gina isn’t coincidental to this impression. James Caan is a lot of fun as the mob dad and Hugh Grant is as floppily charming as always.

(On VHS, September 2000) How do you make a satiric romantic comedy? Hmmm… Oh, you could make the female character a total bitch and the male protagonist a complete wuss. Hmm… But then you’d get an often-unfunny film with repellent relents of misogyny and general nastiness: While the screenwriter’s intent is obviously to show the relationship-from-hell, it’s simply too unbelievable to be enjoyable. (The portrait of women as marriage-hunting schematrixes and men as commitment-phobic might be fun for a good-natured jab or two, but it grates when it goes on for ninety minutes) Unexpectedly enough, the flatulence gag is among the film’s funniest moment (“Olé!”) Granted, Love Stinks has a few redeeming qualities (The supporting characters are good, there are scattered laughs and the ending is fun) but it’s more interesting to imagine how to improve the film than to watch it as is. Or, alternatively, to use it as a centerpiece in a thesis proving that good humor is designed to make you comfortable, not uneasy.

(On TV, September 2000) Some hold that comedy springs from other people’s misery, but looking at the Farrelly brothers’ Kingpin (and, indeed, most of their corpus—especially Me Myself And Irene) it’s easier to decide that they don’t really have a clue as to what’s funny. Stupid gags follow tasteless jokes follow lousy punch-lines follow incoherent plotting and the result is a mess. Characters? Repellent. Gags? Incoherent. Funny? Not really. Unsalvageable? Not quite, mostly due to Bill Murray, fantastic as usual, who turns a bad role in a crunchy performance that’s the only sustained reason to watch the film. Though the bowling parts are interesting, the rest isn’t worth it, and those looking for a good bowling comedy should first see The Big Lebowski.