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 ANALYZE THIS. It's the impossibly tough-willed dramatic
actor versus the fast-talking, lightweight comedian in this tale
of a New York mobster who hires an unwilling therapist. In the
former role, Robert DeNiro both makes fun of and pays homage to
some of his most famous roles, including those in The Godfather,
Part II and Goodfellas. What's great about DeNiro is
that he is never merely winking at the audience; he's still seriously
acting, even while being funny. This keeps the tension taut, creating
an environment in which Billy Crystal's sometimes-annoying brand
of squirmy humor can thrive. They're a terrific comic mismatch,
and director-writer Harold Ramis (a favorite from the days of
SCTV) smartly allows them to play off each other as frequently
as possible. When Analyze This does lag, it's because Ramis
actually seems to be taking the therapeutic scenes seriously--a
predisposition he no doubt picked up from his direction of the
strangely good Stuart Saves His Family. The film also benefits
from the supporting efforts of Joe Viterelli, a fat, bad-skinned
henchman who's tough enough to be menacing but not too tough to
say the word "poop." --Woodruff
BABY GENIUSES. It's kind of like that 1970s diaper commercial
where the babies talk about diaper rash. Except this time, it's
two hours long and the babies aren't cute. That's right--the babies
aren't cute, an unforgivable failure in a movie full of babies.
The premise: Scientists have discovered that baby talk is actually
a higher form of intelligence, which then dissipates after they
learn to speak like adults. What this means is that all the babies
seem like arrogant jerks and demon spawn. Can't root for that.
Nor can you root for their adult adversaries, played by a who's-who
of washed-up actors, including Kim Cattrall, Dom DeLuise, Christopher
Lloyd and Kathleen Turner. (Remember her? Wasn't she great in
Body Heat and Crimes of Passion? Wasn't that a long
time ago?) Baby Geniuses was directed by Bob Clark, whose
other credits include the timeless A Christmas Story and
one of the top-10 worst movies ever made, Turk 182. Don't
expect to see Baby Geniuses on TV during future holiday
seasons. Whatever humor might have been found in the film's weird
(and I do mean weird) storyline is suffocated by a tendency toward
lame, lowbrow slapstick and overt references to the Baby Guess?
line of babywear. I almost went to sleep on the stadium seats
where I saw this turkey (gotta love them folding armrests); then
I left early and snuck into the 100-percent talking-baby-free
8MM. It was just what the pediatrician ordered. --Woodruff
THE CORRUPTOR. Mark Wahlberg, sans prosthesis, and Chow
Yun Fat, sans his usual charm, star in this extremely bloody buddy
movie. Two officers, one white, one Chinese, must fight their
way through a corrupt Chinatown that threatens to take their souls!
Yawn. Lots of dead people, and naked people, and dead naked people,
and a car chase with the highest level of collateral damage (i.e.
bullet-riddled pedestrians) in any film make this a rather tasteless
outing, but it might appeal to hardcore fans of blood, death and
Mark Wahlberg. --DiGiovanna
THE DEEP END OF THE OCEAN. Michelle Pfeiffer has a lot
of veins in her head, and they're out in full force, bulging and
pulsating to the violin on the musical score. She's in middle-class-mom
mode as Beth, a woman who looks stunning in pastels and loses
her 3-year-old son in a hotel. This affects her entire life and
family, but more importantly, allows for the introduction of the
inexplicable character of Candy Bliss (Whoopi Goldberg). The only
black woman in an otherwise white world, Candy pops in and out
as a cop who happens to be a lesbian. She's not just different
from Beth and her husband Pat (Treat Williams), she's really
different. She probably got high marks from the PC ratings
board, but she still doesn't make any more sense than the enigmatic
title. Anyway, people are sad, the boy is found, he eats some
pizza and the family is restored. I can't wait for Deep End
of the Ocean 2, where Beth, Pat and Candy go shopping at Wal-Mart.
--Higgins
8MM. The premise of an investigator hired to determine
the authenticity of a snuff film is intriguing and full of potential.
Unfortunately, this character drama revolves around an unsympathetic,
two-dimensional protagonist and is told in a strikingly conventional
manner. Tom (Nicolas Cage) is in almost every scene, yet we learn
very little about him as he navigates a porn underworld in order
to locate the makers of the film. Mostly he death marches through
his investigation, occasionally grunting to his wife (Catherine
Keener) on the phone or getting tours of XXX-rated flea markets
from Truman Capote-reading skin trader Max (Joaquin Phoenix).
And I don't know what director Joel Schumacher (St. Elmo's
Fire, The Lost Boys) did to his star, but poor Cage was so
very sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open during most of
8MM. Me, too. --Higgins
FORCES OF NATURE. The Hollywood star system often inspires
bizarre experiments by studio executives determined to test our
strength as consumers of popular culture. Actors are shuffled
around in the hope that an uber-couple will be found, a pairing
so strong that viewers will not be able to keep away. We are unwilling
witnesses to this search, one so desperate that here it brought
Sandra Bullock and Ben Affleck together for 90 minutes of chemical
imbalance and charisma deficiency. Bullock works within her usual
star persona as Sarah, the plucky, irresistible gal pal who's
out for fun and maybe just a little bit more. Affleck works within
his nonexistent star persona as Ben, that very bland guy-next-door
who's best quality is good dental hygiene. These two are kept
together by tumultuous weather and a mutual love of 24-hour shopping,
and this causes Ben to question his love for fiancée Bridget
(Maura Tierney). Since the truly happy conclusion would involve
Sarah and Ben dying in a horrible natural disaster, the actual
ending, with all its coupling, kissing and mugging, is bittersweet
at best. --Higgins
THE GENERAL. Director John Boorman made his name with the
extremely effective and disturbing Deliverance. He went
on to direct an extremely eclectic mix of films, from the bizarre
Wizard of Oz/post-apocalyptic sci-fi fantasy Zardoz
to the schmaltzy-sweet environmental film Emerald Forest,
to the pagan retelling of the King Arthur legend in Excalibur.
What all of these films had in common were vast, colorful and
wide-open shots of seemingly magical outdoor scenery. The General
is a complete about-face: black and white, with lots of closeup,
claustrophobic cityscapes. Its engaging story is about the leader
of a gang of Irish criminals whose elaborate plans for heists,
holdups and obstructions of the criminal justice system are funny
until they become tragic. This would be a perfect "small"
film if it were only a little shorter; as it is Boorman succumbs
to the current vogue for adding 30 minutes more film than necessary.
Still, The General is a strong effort that adds a new wrinkle
to an interesting career. --DiGiovanna
OCTOBER SKY. Here's a film about teens that doesn't have
aliens, a serial killer, or even a prom queen election. (I know,
I found it hard to relate to, too.) It tells the true story of
Homer Hickam (Jake Gyllenhaal) and his high school friends who
strive to avert their coal-mining destinies. By experimenting
with rocketry, they hope to win a science fair and solicit college
scholarships. Most of the adults don't understand their struggle
to leave the small town, especially Homer's black-lunged father
(Chris Cooper). The maudlin music is obtrusive and the pacing
uneven, but the story is generally engaging. It's set in the late
1950s, which in the film and television industries means an excuse
to offer the female characters little development beyond cheerleader
status. For some balance, follow October Sky by the tasty
girl-centered Jawbreaker. --Higgins
OFFICE SPACE. Mike Judge's first non-animated feature makes
an ideal, male-populated companion piece to the female-centered
Clockwatchers. Like its prececessor, many of Office
Space's laughs come from the thrill of seeing the banal frustrations
of work life amplified larger than life--there's a hearty sense
of release. Our hero, Ron Livingston (a cool young actor we'll
likely be seeing a lot more of), is yet another desk drone workin'
for the man at a cubicled company called Initech, which has an
environment just real enough to believe and just cartoony enough
to be hilarious. "The man" turns out to be Gary Cole
(last seen as Mike Brady in The Brady Bunch Movie), easily
the most hideous incarnation of a "polite" boss ever
conceived. Office Space has a story similar to that episode
of Seinfeld in which George Costanza decides to do everything
the opposite of how he would normally do it--a darned funny episode,
so we can forgive Mike Judge his easy plot. Not to mention that
the smaller characters, like the computer programmer with a perpetual
paper jam, generate enough interest to keep the movie alive even
without a plot. Surprisingly, after twisted office logic has been
successfully manipulated and anarchy satisfyingly reigns, Judge
gets a pang of conscience and horseshoes the story back onto itself.
Because it avoids condescending to its characters (something Clockwatchers
could have learned from), Office Space's extra dose of
reality works, leaving it far better than anyone could have expected
from the creator of Beavis and Butthead. --Woodruff
200 CIGARETTES. Other than a strong performance by Courtney
Love, there's nothing to recommend this calculated attempt to
cash in on retro-'80s chic. Six stories of romance intertwine
on New Year's Eve, 1981, in New York's trendy East Village. Oddly
enough, all of the stories involve hot young stars, hip music,
and MTV-inspired fashion. If only there were plots and dialogue
to go with the clothing and faces, this would be a movie. As it
is, it's a collection of publicity stills waiting for a script.
--DiGiovanna
Special Screenings
WOMENVIEW. This series of films by and about women closes
this weekend at The Screening Room, featuring The Righteous
Babes and Honeymoon Moccasin. The Righteous
Babes, from acclaimed filmmaker Pratibha Parmar, is a documentary
offering a feminist exploration of the intersection of popular
music, female recording artists in the '90s and modern women.
Honeymoon Moccasin, an all-Native production, combines
elements of melodrama, "whodunit," cable access and
performance art in order to question conventions of ethnic and
sexual identity. Show times are 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday, and
3 p.m. Sunday. The Screening Room is located at 127 E. Congress
St. Call 622-2262 for more information.
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