Movie Review

(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.

(On VHS, September 2000) This, according to my sources, received a warm critical reception upon release. Either those critics aren’t working any more, or my sources are wrong: While it’s a competently-made film with good acting and adequate direction, the script (by Joe Ezherhas, who would go on to make such trash classics as Basic Instinct and Showgirls) is disappointingly weak. Though the start of the film is solid (woman is killed; husband is suspected and accused), the rest of the story gets ludicrous (a female attorney accepts to defend the husband, only to fall in love with him in a matter of days) and then solidly predictable. You only have to ask yourself what would be most interesting dramatically, and presto it happens! The ending is, with fifteen year’s insight, one of the tritest things I’ve seen in a while, a stock-routine thriller conclusion that thinks itself clever but really isn’t.

(On VHS, September 2000) Even staunch civil-right defenders might admit that the current plague of would-be cinema censors might have a point after watching Idle Hands. Depictions of violence, drugs and sexual content are not bad things in themselves, but when they’re used to such juvenile goals, they’re definitely not as morally acceptable as in the context of, say, an anti-war drama. To put it simply, Idle Hands is a meaningless teen film that wallows in the gratuitous use of the afore-mentioned violence, drugs and sex. There are stupid moments everywhere, insipid jokes and inane plotting everywhere you care to look. Chances are that you won’t because this slasher is pretty stupid even as slashers goes. (Yes, that includes I Still Know What You Did Last Summer) What’s even less funny is how Idle Hands drapes itself in the excuse that “it’s a comedy!” to feebly justify it. There are, granted, a few bright spots: Devon Sawa does a good job (especially in the “fighting his hand” scenes) and Seth Green is his usual scene-stealing self. There are a few good jokes. But they’re not enough to bring this film much above mediocre ratings.

(On VHS, September 2000) Boring by-the-numbers horror film starring Jeff Goldblum as a man getting psychic visions about/by a serial murderer fascinated by Goldblum’s daughter. You can guess where it goes from there. Flat direction, bad writing, obvious plotting. Not as bad as completely devoid of good -or memorable- qualities. You can skip this one.

(On VHS, September 2000) Avoid! Though it stars the ever-dependable Russell Crowe in a suitable tough-guy role, the rest of this low-budget effort hovers between ludicrousness and boredom. Ludicrousness, demonstrated by scenes after scenes of implausible plot mechanics and suspect character choices. For instance, the conservative -and myopic- Japanese husband suddenly buys a gun, kills his best friend without remorse, shaves his head, chucks his glasses and goes across the country on a motorcycle to kill his runaway wife. Boredom, as interminable stretches of nothingness (I’m not talking about the Australian desert) pepper the narrative. Rent Natural Born Killers if you want a similar story, but only die-hard Crowe afficionadoes will enjoy this one. And even then…

(On VHS, September 2000) A professional hit-man dealing with his ten-year high-school reunion? Funny premise, and even if Grosse Pointe Blank never quite delivers everything we could expect from this concept, it remains a great little comedy. Of course, most of this success depends on the leads, John Cusack as a tone-perfect assassin with faint neurotic tendencies and Minnie Driver as an adorable, but dangerously bitter radio DJ. Both are sympathetic, cool, competent and enormously likable. The film itself lacks the spark required to propel it from good to great (many missed opportunities and not enough laughs from a fertile premise, mostly) but that shouldn’t be a reason not to check it out, especially if you’re a fan of either leads.

(On VHS, September 2000) This teen comedy (about four friend who practically do everything in order to get to a KISS concert) is more entertaining than it should have been, though not much more. The teenage antics and handled with a heap of good-natured anarchism and it’s hard to be unsympathetic to such cheerful mayhem. There are quite a few good scenes, though some showcases (the strip performance, the church love scene and the subsequent confrontation with the parent, notably) don’t come off as strongly as they should. The film also ends five minutes too quickly, crying out for some sort of “twenty years later” epilogue. Maybe a bit too scattered to maintain a high level of interest.

(On TV, September 2000) Years before Three Kings, this was the first film set during the Gulf War. Notice that it’s not about the Gulf War; it’s about a military investigator trying to find the truth about a helicopter pilot’s alleged heroism. Through various interviews, a Rashomon-like mosaic or truth emerges, both good and bad. (Though, in the end, definitely too sugary good to be very interesting) Not to be watched by those who are easily bored: The film starts out slow (after a good first five minutes) and remains that way for thirty minutes, until conflicting testimonies appear and things start to heat up. Then the film becomes compelling, but unfortunately you have to hang on until that point. A few actors slated for greatness – Meg Ryan, Denzel Washington, Matt Damon- pepper the film.

(On TV, September 2000) John Cusack junkies will love the film, which shows him in the mold of the smart-proper-clean-cool protagonists he does best. Plus, he gets the chance to act against Al Pacino, which is always fun to see. Non-fans won’t be as enthusiastic about this film, which constantly shows signs of being brilliant, but has to settle for being merely okay. You’d think that a city-wide plot about crime, power and corruption in New York City to be involving, but not really. The film goes through the motions but never sparks and finally kills itself at a train stop scene. The final few minutes are predictable. Too bad.