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Bed of Roses. If you liked Untamed Heart and Sleepless
in Seattle, then Bed of Roses is just your kind of
budding romance. Mary Stuart Masterson (last seen as an emotionally-distraught
love object in Benny and Joon) plays the tough-because-I-have-to-be
career gal who's whole life is turned upside down by an anonymous
flower delivery. Christian Slater (last seen as the mysterious,
romantic rescuer in the aforementioned Untamed Heart) plays
the impetuous introvert who holds the key to the mystery. Bed
of Roses is more a collection of scenes than a story, following
the standard premise that two sad lives somehow add up to one
happy one.
Black Sheep. Chris Farley and David Spade of Saturday
Night Live dominate this fat guy/thin guy, dumb guy/smart
guy formula comedy. Farley plays the accident-prone, embarrassing
brother of an aspiring senator--a sort of Billy Carter figure.
Spade plays the political handler sent to babysit him. Both characters
seem to be in their early twenties, though the actors are older.
The script is predictable and bland with some unbearably sentimental
moments thrown in just to torture the audience. Farley, in his
blithe willingness to humiliate himself over and over, does manage
to be quite funny sometimes, despite the material. The director,
Penelope Spheeris, made some wonderful films in the eighties but
has sunk to projects like this and The Beverly Hillbillies
movie. If you want to see something honest and funny, rent
her wonderful documentary about headbangers: The Decline of
Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years.
CITY HALL. Does Al Pacino ever rest? This tale of political
intrigue has him playing the mayor of New York, a principled and
moral manipulator, if you can picture that. John Cusack plays
Kevin Calhoun, the mayor's right-hand man who gets sucked into
a murder investigation. It's a man's world out there--there are
hardly any women in this movie except Bridget Fonda, who rushes
through her small role like she can't wait to get out of there.
The main appeal of this movie is the excellent acting by Cusack
and Danny Aiello, as well as a refreshingly restrained performance
by Pacino, but the story never rises above mediocre. After this
movie one guy leaving the theater started yelling, "That
was terrible! Now I know why I don't go to movies anymore: They
suck!" I wouldn't say it was that bad, but I don't think
it's worth $7 to sit in the fetid air of a multiplex and inhale
mediocrity.
Dead Man Walking. Sean Penn gives an amazing performance
as a death-row inmate in this Tim Robbins film. The movie is based
on the true story of Sister Helen Prejean, a nun who befriended
a convicted killer bound for a lethal injection. The nun slogs
through a moral minefield as she visits the prison, the victim's
families, and the family of the condemned man, trying to figure
out what she's doing hanging around with a low-life. Susan Sarandon
does a fine job as Sister Helen, but it's Penn who really steals
the show with his restrained, charismatic portrayal of the convict--it's
almost weird how good he is as the hate-filled, anti-social Poncelet.
The rest of the story sometimes drifts into sentimentality or
preachiness, but whenever Penn is on-screen, everything clicks.
Leaving Las Vegas. A moving, melancholy portrait of a desperate
alcoholic making one last grab for love and redemption in the
city of neon. Nicolas Cage plays Ben, a total loser who has lost
his family, job and self-respect. He goes to Las Vegas in an effort
to escape everything, basically, and there he meets Sera (Elisabeth
Shue), a heart-of-gold hooker who takes him in and accepts him
just the way he is (sort of). There's no moralizing about the
evils of drink here, or romanticizing either--it's just relentless
scenes of Nicolas Cage quaffing liquor like water and spreading
some kind of bottomless sadness all over the screen. Though
Leaving Las Vegas is very sad, it never panders and it never
manipulates the audience. Instead, it treats its grim subject
matter with intelligence and restraint.
Restoration. Men in wigs and ladies in low-cut bodices
frolic and fret to no end in this Robert Downey Jr. vehicle. Downey
plays a young physician who fortuitously ends up in the service
of the King. The fun-loving physician takes to the frivolities
of the court like a fish to water, but it all ends when the King
decides to marry him off to His Majesty's mistress in order to
fool another, jealous mistress. Then the physician does the one
thing forbidden by the King and falls in love with his own wife.
There's a classic Oedipal drama buried in here, for those of you
keeping up on your Freud. (The King is the father figure, his
mistress is the forbidden mother, and Robert Downey Jr., with
his big, liquid eyes, is the son.) This film is well-made but
there's nothing especially enticing here unless you love lavish
costumes. I did think Sam Neill gave a good performance as King
Charles II, proving there's no accounting for taste, even one's
own.
Sense and Sensibility. Is this ever a costume drama! Emma
Thompson, Hugh Grant and practically every other British actor
you can think of romp thorough the country in funny clothes in
this clever adaptation of Jane Austen's novel about impoverished
girls hunting for husbands. Of the recent crop of movies about
Britons in by-gone eras falling in love out-of-doors, this is
by far the best. The script (by Emma Thompson) is witty and well-paced;
the crisp, brisk direction by Ang Lee (who made, most recently,
Eat Drink Man Woman) keeps the slow-paced lives of the
19th century from ever becoming boring. This movie deals with
Love and Romance like they made it in the old days--big, sweeping
and stormy.
TIE-DIED. This documentary about Grateful Dead fans is
recommended only for the converted. It's clearly made by a Grateful
Dead fan for other fans. Filmmaker Andrew Behar has recorded not
the band itself (there's no Dead music in the movie) but only
the "movement" "going down" outside in the
parking lot. It's about love, brotherhood, expanded consciousness,
etc. Anything dark or critical that could be said about this scene
is either left out or glossed over. Still, it's interesting to
look at this once-vital subculture, especially since the death
of Jerry Garcia probably means it will come to an end. It's also
interesting to note the variety of motivations Dead Heads have
for going "on tour" with the band. Nevertheless, these
insights could have been delivered in a half-hour film instead
of a full-length documentary.
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