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A look at two new, and totally unrelated films -- 'Wicked' and 'Cookie's Fortune.'
By James Di Giovanna
JULIA STILES, WHO recently appeared in 10 Things I Hate
About You and the miniseries The '60s, should be a
big star by the end of the year, at which time the producers of
Wicked
will be kicking themselves for not keeping this film in the
can for a wider release to capitalize on her success.
Instead, they've gone the festival route. This works out well
for us dusty Tucsonans, as it means we get a peek at it before
everyone else on earth is finished talking about it.
Wicked is delightfully derivative: its style, lighting,
subject and especially its penchant for cold, distant camera work
are so Hitchcockian that it could have been directed by Brian
DePalma. (The alternate joke here is "so like a Hitchcock
film that Gus Van Sant is planning a shot-for-shot remake,"
but I'm tired of people kicking Gus Van Sant, dammit.)
Beginning with a scene ripped off from Psycho (a single
woman in a tailored dress driving to ominous music), Wicked's
plot begins in one of those expensive planned communities surrounded
by a golf course and populated by people who have become so understimulated
by green grass and no tides that they either turn into robots
or swingers.
Ben Christianson and his wife Karen have both found alternate
love partners to break up the monotony of their Danish modern
décor, with Karen opting for trashy neighbor Lawson Smith,
and Ben trashily opting for their Danish au pair. But neither
Ben nor Karen have much personality, having ceded that function
to their daughter Ellie, who makes Electra seem like one of King
Lear's less savory daughters. While loving dad, Ellie hates Mommy
so much that when Mommy is mysteriously murdered after (a) telling
dad that she's leaving him, (b) telling her dangerous boyfriend
that she's dumping him, and (c) forgetting to bring cookies to
the neighborhood meeting, Ellie is still the most likely suspect.
But it wouldn't be a Hitchcockian mystery without the other possibilities,
and in an archly comic role as the police investigator, Michael
Parks (making his 62nd film appearance, but only his seventh turn
as a police officer) makes neighbor Lawson Smith his top suspect.
When asked "Do you think it was him?" by a junior officer,
Parks deadpans, "Him...or somebody else."
In spite of Parks' fun and campy performance, the film really
belongs to Stiles, who plays the Hitchcock femme fatale to a tee.
After Mommy dies, teenager Ellie starts to wear her dresses and
make-up, cooks for dad, fusses over him, and sleeps beside him.
Sleeping turns to other pursuits as Ellie follows her dream of
having daddy to herself, and littler sister Inger, though only
10, starts to grow a bit suspicious, in more ways than one.
Still, to give away too much would ruin the fun, so it's best
to note that there are a dozen more plot twists waiting, and that
Wicked, while perhaps too professional and slick for the
festival circuit, might just be the highlight of this year's Arizona
International.
I USED TO argue with another reviewer about whether Robert
Altman was a genius or a very lucky idiot. The evidence for genius
would be films like Nashville (possibly the greatest American
movie of all time) and The Player. On the idiot side are
such embarrassments as O.C. and Stiggs and Quintet
(possibly the worst American film of all time). Further support
for the latter view comes from his recent interview in Entertainment
Weekly, where he claims that all of his most egregious movies
were simply misunderstood or ahead of their time (he says of critical
disaster Kansas City, "I predict that in a few years
it will wind up appreciated"; and he excuses his celebration
of the sexist degradation of the character "Hot Lips"
in the truly awful and overrated movie M*A*S*H* by saying,
"That isn't the way I treated her, that's the way I see her
being treated.")
However, in Cookie's Fortune he shows again his formidable
talent at filmmaking, hinting that the genius tag might just fit
after all.
The titular Cookie is an elderly white woman in Holly Springs,
Mississippi, where she decides it's time to join her deceased
husband in the afterlife. Unfortunately, her evil niece (played
as Cruella DeVil of the South by the increasingly annoying Glenn
Close) finds the body. Not wanting a suicide attached to her family
name, she arranges things so they look like murder. This leaves
Cookie's only friend, a black man who lives in her house and takes
care of her, as the suspect. The man, Willis Richland, is played
with such seamless subtlety by Charles Dutton that it's jarring
to have him transposed against the more theatrical acting of Close,
and Altman wisely keeps them in largely separate scenes.
Joining them are Julianne Moore as Close's mentally deficient
sister, and Liv Tyler as Moore's anomic daughter. Both give strong
performances, but Moore's is truly outstanding--she shines when
her character appears as the lead in the Holly Springs Easter
production of Oscar Wilde's Salome. Here you see Moore's
background in classical acting; and since her character is supposed
to be a bit insane, she's able to bring this stagey style into
the more subtle cinematic scenes without becoming camp.
Its strong performances aside, it's the small touches that make
Cookie's Fortune: a roll of police tape unraveling
to indicate a love scene, a cabinet door repeatedly creaking open,
Glenn Close's guilt comically symbolized by her hand in a cookie
jar full of sensitive documents. All of these images, and the
slow, steady and inventive camera work that are an Altman trademark,
set Cookie's Fortune apart from most movies, which use--even
if skillfully--a standard set of shots to convey their stories.
Perhaps Altman's wisest decision in making Cookie's Fortune
was in not aiming too high. His attempts at broad social commentary
have lately fallen flat, and here he takes a small story, with
no pretensions to greatness, and executes it with extreme care.
Maybe that's what genius is all about.
Wicked screens at 10 p.m. Saturday, 5:30 p.m. Sunday,
April 17 and 18, at the UA Gallagher Theater. Cookie's
Fortune opens Friday, April 9, at select theaters.
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