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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
THE BRANDON TEENA STORY. Everyone should see this documentary,
as it's not only an engaging story, but an enlightening look at
the middle of America. The titular Brandon Teena was a young woman
who lived as a man. Her Midwestern friends and neighbors didn't
take kindly to this deceit, and when they found out that he was
a she, two of them beat and raped her on Christmas Eve, then murdered
her on New Year's eve. What's most horrifying and eye-opening
in this film are the similarities in attitude between the police
officer who first investigated the case and the murderers. Both
have yokel-like incomprehension of Brandon's life, and both blame
her for the violence that was directed against her. The documentary
is mostly a series of interviews and images from the arid Nebraska
plains where Teena was murdered, presenting the story in a detailed
and cinematic style. --DiGiovanna
CENTRAL STATION. Rarely will you see an actress in her
late 60s star opposite a young boy, but that's exactly the odd
couple that drives this thought-provoking Brazilian film. Dora,
a retired schoolteacher, teams up with Josué, a recent
orphan, to try to find the boy's natural father. Their journey
takes place largely on a bus ride, where they lose all of their
money chasing after Josué's ideal of his parent. The ordinariness
of these characters and how they handle their crises is compelling
and well told through visual details such as drab clothing and
bleak surroundings, and narratively via slow pacing and an overall
lack of drama. If you're up for a chuckle, save Central Station
for another day; it's a slice-of-life tale that's best enjoyed
when you have the patience and energy to sympathize with imperfect
yet resonant characters who struggle within modest destinies.--Higgins
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
CRUEL INTENTIONS. Studio executives, worried that Keanu
Reeves is getting a little long in the tooth, have been searching
for an extremely wooden cute-guy actor-type to replace him in
the hearts and loins of American youth. With Cruel Intentions,
robotic sex-toy Ryan Phillippe has shown he's got the stuff. He
plays the comically evil Valmont in this modern day, prep-school
remake of Dangerous Liasons. Not to be missed are Sarah
Michelle Gellar's Joan Collins impression as Valmont's evil and
licentious sister, and Selma Blair (of TV's Zoe, Duncan, Jack
and Jane) as the coming-of-age kiddie seduced and abused by
the evil siblings. Cruel Intentions has surpassed Showgirls
as the best sleazefest on film, with more than enough pretentiously
funny dialogue, scenes of teens in bed, and over-the-top ham acting
to keep you entertained for its zippy 90-minute run.--DiGiovanna
ED TV. A 34-year-old loser accepts an offer from a failing
cable company to have his life broadcast 24-7. Though there are
some good jabs at the loss of privacy occasioned by modern media,
the plot gets muddied in a trite and sexist romance story. Bonus:
Director Richie Cunningham casts his old pal Ralph Malph in a
throw-away charity role! Sadly, Potsie and the Fonz couldn't make
it. --DiGiovanna
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
MOD SQUAD. Claire Danes has the coolest nose. Like, she
has this sculpted, fashion-model face, but her nose has this wildly
bulbous ending. I pray to God she never gets a nose job, as watching
her enrapturing proboscis is what made this movie bearable. It's
a remake of the '70s TV series about three teenagers who work
as undercover cops. In this version, their mentor is killed and
they must avenge his death. Things are enlivened by some really
trite dialogue and surprisingly good performances by Danes, Giovanni
Ribisi and Omar Epps as fellow Squad members, and a groan-inducingly
bad performance by Dennis Farina as their chief.
--DiGiovanna
NEVER BEEN KISSED. What an unexpected Beverly Hills,
90210 reunion! David Arquette (remember Diesel, the girlfriend-beating
keyboard player?), Cress Williams (a.k.a. D'Shawn Hardell, token
minority/basketball player/fan of Donna Martin), and Jeremy Jordan
(teen Vanilla Ice, on the 90210 soundtrack album) team
up for Never Been Kissed, 60610: the Chicago years! In
the midst of all this fun is the woman once rumored to be Shannen
Doherty's replacement, Drew Barrymore. This week's topic has to
do with self-love. Poor awkward Josi (Barrymore), a mid-20s copy
editor for the Chicago Tribune, gets a writing assignment
to go undercover as a high-school senior and find the real scoop
on teens. Josi is unable to approach the story objectively because
she was tormented throughout her secondary education as the class
geek, and she has frequent flashbacks that make her vomit. She
confronts her demons with the help of her brother Rob (Arquette),
and finally finds self-confidence through the acceptance of the
popular kids, including the dreamy Guy (Jordan)--Higgins
THE RAGE: CARRIE 2. A very '90s version of the Stephen
King/Brian DePalma horror classic. This time, instead of a mousy
Christian girl, the outcast with the super-powers is a hot little
Goth chick who takes no guff. Oddly, she still seems excited to
be dating the star football player. Other than its use of standard
teen film clichés, and the rapidly-becoming-cliché
image of the Girl Power lead character, The Rage: Carrie 2
is a pretty decent B-movie, in the Boy-Meet-Girl, Boy-Loses-Girl,
Girl-Uses-Her-Psychic-Powers-To-Mutilate-And-Dismember-Her-High-School-Classmates
mode. --DiGiovanna
RUSHMORE. A very sophisticated comedy with the trappings
of a teen film, Rushmore is the strange story of a love
triangle involving Max, a 15-year-old boy (newcomer Jason Schwartzman),
Rosemary, a 30-year-old woman (Olivia Williams) and Herman, a
50-year-old man (Bill Murray). Murray is fabulous as the sleazy,
irritable and pathetic millionaire Herman Blume, but Schwartzman's
performance as Max is every bit as good. Max is editor of the
school newspaper and yearbook; president of the French club, German
club, chess club, and astronomy club; captain of the fencing and
debate teams; founder of the Double-Team Dodgeball Society; and
director of the Max Fischer Players, and Schwartzman gives him
the compelling air of an immature underachiever. Rushmore
is easily the best comedy of the last year, so show your disdain
for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (who failed
to give Rushmore even a single Oscar nomination) by going
to see it three or four times, and then write them a letter reminding
them that they've given the best picture Oscar to Platoon,
Forrest Gump, Braveheart and Titanic, so where do they
get off? --DiGiovanna
TRUE CRIME. Dear Mr. Clint Eastwood: You do not look sexy
lounging around half-naked while making bedroom eyes at women
young enough to be your granddaughters. Please, please stop it
this instant. And this story you directed, where a reporter takes
one day to solve a crime that legions of lawyers and police officers
have been working on for 20 years, is not only trite but unbelievable.
And your turn as the drunken, womanizing reporter whose heart
is in the right place has been done before, and better, by William
Holden, Kirk Douglas, and about a dozen other actors from the
'50s. Only they weren't so cocky as to think that audiences would
believe that they were getting in bed with 20-year-olds when they
were in their 70s. So just stop before anyone has to see your
flabby nipples again. --DiGiovanna
WING COMMANDER. In a tremendous waste of talent, Tchéky
Karyo, David Suchet and David Warner, who all have the good fortune
to have been born in countries where spending millions on a movie
adapted from a video game would be considered a bit gauche, are
tossed into outer space for this multi-million dollar movie that's
based on a video game. Like a video game, there's lots of explosions,
you don't have any interest in the characters, and dialogue is
not exactly the most important element. Unfortunately, even as
a shoot-'em-up Wing Commander fails, as the outer space
scenes are poorly lit, and it's always difficult to tell who's
shooting at who. The scary space aliens are also rather lame,
looking like burly guys with immobile, rubber, kitten faces. I
guess the big draw for Wing Commander was supposed to be
teen heartthrob Freddie Prinze Jr., who's claim to fame is that
he's a bit cuter than his father and doesn't have an insatiable
appetite for cocaine. There's also a surprisingly decent (i.e.
not horrifyingly bad) performance by Mathew Lillard, who was annoying
in Scream, Scream 2, She's All That and, I'm guessing,
in person. But Wing Commander's biggest sin is that it's
dull. If the future is going to be this boring, I'm canceling
my membership at the Cryogenic Institute of Greater Metropolitan
Tucson. --DiGiovanna
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