|
A Look At What Lurks In The Cool, Dark Theaters This Summer.
By Zachary Woodruff
THIS IS IT--cinema's last soothing summer of the century.
Next year we'll be drowning in 20-plexes, sequel oversaturation
(Star Wars: Episode One, Men in Black 2, Independence Day 2,
Twister 2, Mission: Impossible 2, Total Recall 2, Scream 3, Indiana
Jones 4, and a remake of Psycho!) and enough Millennium hoopla
to last a thousand years. This summer? Nothing but quiet: comets
pummeling the globe, giant lizards throwing tantrums in New York,
Johnny Depp dropping acid in Vegas, Lethal Weapon 4 starring
all the regulars and Chris Rock, too.... Ahhh, tranquillity.
Still, there are probably some light sleepers out there who actually
find such spectacles of mayhem stimulating. If you're one such weirdo,
then this Summer Movie Preview, filled with all the latest movie
poop, is for you.
HOME-SPUN CINEMA
LOCALLY SPEAKING, there's enough going on to keep you entertained
literally six days, seven nights a week. Giulio Scalinger, program
director for The Screening Room, says the downtown venue's summer
schedule will be "entertainment-oriented," with dozens
of weekend Robert Mitchum film-noirs, classic Godzilla
movies, Fourth of July 3-D spectacles, and late-night video salons
across the street at the Grill. Entertainment-oriented? Of all
the nerve. Call 622-2262 if you're less offended.
Filling the art-house, issue-based gap left by The Screening
Room's emphasis on popcorn flicks, Vikki Dempsey's reliably diverting
VideoTENSIONS series will take place every other Thursday
at 7:30 p.m., starting on June 4 and lasting through the middle
of August. Dempsey, an experimental video artist herself, has
once again put together a provocative program of short, unconventional
works revolving around such themes as futurism, local issues,
the media, homosexuality, Mexico and (eek) Canada. Call 884-1354
for schedule and location details.
Okay, so you've got your weekends and Thursdays covered. How
about Mondays? No problem there, either, thanks to the Upstairs
Film series put on by Mike Toubassi and Ari Lieberman. Their 8
p.m. Monday screenings of past and present local works (followed
by local band performances) will continue all summer long in the
Hotel Congress. Toubassi's intention? "To help build Tucson's
filmmaking community," of course. You, too, can subject your
short film or video to audience scrutiny; call 622-1751 to find
out how.
Filling in the weekdays are the usual second-run, classic and
cult movies at the Gallagher Theatre (621-3102), which has been
a mainstay of affordable film entertainment on the University
of Arizona campus for decades. Sadly, the even more affordable
(that is to say, free) video screenings at The Pink Motel came
to an abrupt halt last month when the place went out of business.
Christine's Motion Picture--which up until recently was the swankiest
place in town to catch free flicks--has turned into a lounge/party
zone due to similar struggles. We recommend you call 740-1493
and request that Christine continue showing motion pictures at
Christine's Motion Picture. Or better yet, stop by. Repeatedly.
DESTRUCT-O-RAMA
OKAY, WHO AM I fooling here? Local venues are fine, but
what about ear-shattering THX sound? Thirty-minute ticket lines?
The excitement of seeing something that's brand-spanking new and
looks reeeaaally expensive? Now that's where it's at.
After all, size does--oh, I can't say it. But I'm eagerly anticipating
the arrival of Godzilla's thunder thighs nonetheless. Everyone
knows the best part of Roland Emmerich and Dean Devlin's Independence
Day was when everything got blown to bits, and their Godzilla
promises to extend that first act into an entire movie. Dialogue?
Who needs dialogue?! A sure-fire spectacle for nihilists and foot
fetishists alike, Godzilla promises to whack a polyp.
I know what you're thinking: sometimes a gigantic lizard tearing
up a major metropolitan city just isn't enough. Why not obliterate
the earth? Well you're in luck, because Deep Impact is
now playing, and Armageddon is on its way. My vote goes
to the former, which has a real storyline; Morgan Freeman as the
president; and a competent, fresh-on-the-scene director, Mimi
Leder (The Peacemaker). The latter film, unfortunately,
is directed by Michael "Spaz" Bay, last seen blasting
San Francisco trolleys sky-high in The Rock. Talk about
testosterone overload: The story centers on the efforts of some
sweaty oil men (including Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck) to drill
into the core of a huge asteroid and deposit nuclear warheads
therein. Freud, anyone?
If all these movies' jockeying to out-scale each other leaves
you feeling bloated, yet you're still up for some smashin', Small
Soldiers awaits. Through the magic of plot contrivance, some
miniature military weapons have accidentally gotten into some
intelligent G.I Joe-like toys, which proceed to tear up a suburban
community. Now that's more like it.
ALSO BIG
AMONG THE OTHER pictures receiving gargantuan, double-wide,
jumbo size promotion this summer is The X-Files movie,
which will finally, finally answer all your burning questions
about Molder and Scummy. Such as: Why can't the Lone Gunmen get
any dates? Will Cancer Man go to where the flavor is? And when
Sculder and Mully finally jump each other, will they moan in those
same stiff, wooden monotones?
Similarly pressing matters are addressed in Six Days, Seven
Nights, a romantic thriller which finds the hunky Harrison
Ford stranded on a desert island with the alluring Anne Heche.
Can an actress this thoroughly "outed" continue to inhabit
convincing roles in mainstream movies? And will Jodie Foster be
next? This movie should answer at least one of those questions.
Among the other big, brazen releases that look promising are:
The Mask of Zorro, which combines Antonio Banderas, Anthony
Hopkins and the plunging bustline of Catherine Zeta Jones into
terrific crowd-pleasing potential; The Avengers, another
sparkling postmodern tele-revision that finally puts Ralph Fiennes
to good use opposite Sean Connery and Uma Thurman; and Saving
Private Ryan, a drama that finds Steven Spielberg setting
aside dinosaurs and minority groups to return to his first passion:
World War II.
A Perfect Murder, a slick updating of Hitchcock's Dial
M for Murder, probably falls short of perfect. But with Gwyneth
Paltrow and Michael Douglas (playing her dad, oops, I mean her
husband) casting suspicious gazes at one another, it might at
least be trashy fun.
But what really looks good is The Truman Show, about a
man who's the subject of a worldwide joke: His whole life is fake,
and all of humanity watches it on TV. Director Peter Weir always
brings a spiritual dimension to his films (including high-concept
comedies like this one); and ever since The Cable Guy I've
been willing to give Jim Carrey the benefit of the doubt. So place
your bets on this paranoid pony.
THIS IS FUNNY?
THE TRUMAN SHOW seems funny, but what kind of comedy
finds humor in a white politician berating African Americans for
their cultural short-sightedness? Or pointing out how Hollywood
is controlled by Jews? A Bulworth kind of comedy, apparently.
The excuse for all this anti-P.C. bombast is that the title character,
played by Warren Beatty (who also wrote, directed, produced and
occasionally key-gripped), is suicidal and wants to get himself
assassinated. Beatty's early career took off after he slapped
audience expectation in the face with Bonnie & Clyde,
so maybe he's up to a similar trick here.
If Bulworth sounds potentially discomforting, Dirty
Work comes across as downright painful--although the sight
of Norm MacDonald running around enacting revenge for hire might
inspire a smirk or two. Expect a lot more laughs from There's
Something About Mary, another anything-goes comedy from the
makers of Dumb & Dumber and Kingpin. This one
allegedly contains some of the most disgusting semen gags, er,
jokes ever filmed, but with Cameron Diaz, Ben Stiller and Matt
Dillon aboard, they shouldn't be too hard to swallow.
If you dig those Naked Gun-style genre spoofs, you've
hit the jackpot: Wrongfully Accused stars Leslie Nielson
as a Fugitive-guy trying to track down the one-armed, one-legged,
one-eyed man who really dunnit; while Jane Austen's MAFIA!
features the late Lloyd Bridges in a send-up of gangster flicks.
Save your money, though, and see Plump Fiction instead--if
only because it's accompanied by the short independent film Swing
Blade, a Sling Blade/Swingers parody that vaulted its
first-time, nobody director to instant major-player status. He's so money...grmmmm.
OOH, ROMANCE
WITH THE LAST strains of Celene Dion's voice echoing in
the distance, many are ready for their next dose of romance. Leonardo-lovers
should probably gallop past The Horse Whisperer, which
stars the weather-worn Robert Redford as a man who really has
a way with reins; Ever After--A Cinderella Story, starring
Drew Barrymore, is likely much more their speed. By the way, no
summer would be complete without an obligatory dancing movie,
and Dance With Me (starring Vanessa Williams) is it. Hey,
Macarena!
But these are beaten paths. Why not take the unbeaten route
with Niagara, Niagara, in which shoplifter Henry Thomas
finds his soulmate in Robin Tunney, a troubled victim of, dammit,
Tourette's Syndrome? Or the well-received indie flick Still
Breathing, a mystical, oddball romance starring Brendan Fraser
and Joanna Going?
Or how about Hope Floats, the movie Sandra Bullock demanded
the studio make in exchange for her "performance" in Speed II?
Bullock plays a small-town girl who appears on a Jenny Jones-style
show and discovers that her best friend is having an affair with
Bullock's husband. Personally, I'd be thrilled if the film were
simply 90 minutes of Bullock and Rosanna Arquette pulling out
each other's hair, but Hope Floats is directed by Forest
"Waiting to Exhale" Whitaker, so it's sensitive
and laced with pathos and stuff. All together now: "Forest
has emerged as a first-rate director of women."
KID STUFF
YOU CAN'T STAY home watching that worn-out Charlie and
the Chocolate Factory tape forever. Sooner or later, the kids
will go insane. So subject them to Warner Brothers' The Quest
for Camelot or Disney's Mulan instead. The first one
uses the Arthurian Legends as a springboard; the second is a similarly
wide-canvassed tale of war, kings and kinship, except it's set
in China and has a heroine instead of a hero.
You could stay away from cartoons and bad Broadway-style singing
altogether and take the tykes to Dr. Doolittle, starring
Eddie Murphy. Hey, talking animals! Burping animals! Farting animals!
Kids love it! Other options include the popular children's story
Madeline (featuring Frances McDormand as a nun); My
Favorite Martian (with Christopher Lloyd); and a remake of
The Parent Trap, though I don't see how anyone could ever
hope to top the albino-twin Hayley Mills version.
DOCUMENT THIS
DOCUMENTARIES DON'T play long in Peoria, and they disappear
even faster in Tucson. Still, if we're lucky we might get a chance
to see Soon-Yi bossing Woody Allen around in Wildman Blues;
trash exploitationist Nick Broomfield revealing the worst sides
of Courtney Love for Kurt and Courtney; a pathetic man
putting his humiliating romantic life on parade in 20 Dates
(which is exactly what its title implies); Michael "Roger
& Me" Moore using more smart-ass, anti-corporate
antics for The Big One; and techno artists programming
their way into pop culture's heart in Modulations. With
any luck, The Loft will carry a few of these titles, though they
laughed when I asked if they'd planned their summer schedule yet.
AUTEUR! AUTEUR!
FOR THOSE NOT up on their French, an auteur is a
director known for consistently bringing a distinct sensibility
to his or her work. Such directors' emphasis on self-expression
results in more originality, riskier casting and a greater sense
of style. Usually. That's why I'm most excited by the new films
from Terry Gilliam, Whit Stillman, Hal Hartley, Steven Soderbergh,
and the three Johns: Duigan, Dahl, and Waters.
Gilliam's film comes from a prim little book called Fear and
Loathing in Las Vegas, written by a little-known author named
Hunter S. Thompson who has never taken drugs in his life. Anyone
who's seen Brazil or Time Bandits knows we're not
exactly in for understated naturalism here. Expect hallucinations,
swirling cameras and characters so bizarro they make David Lynch
look like Ron Howard.
Whit Stillman's The Last Days of Disco should be a soothing
antidote for those who found the id-dominated characters in Boogie
Nights too monosyllabic. Stillman, best known for Metropolitan,
favors prep-school innocence and pseudo-profundity, with heaping
side orders of witty cynicism supplied by regular collaborator
Chris Eigeman. John Waters' Pecker follows the career of
a Baltimore artist (Edward Furlong, the T2 kid) who reluctantly
becomes a star of the New York art scene. As for Hal Hartley's
Henry Fool, it stars Parker Posey--what more do you need
to know?
Don't know much about John Duigan's Lawn Dogs, but John
Dahl's Rounders looks great. It stars Matt Damon and Edward
Norton as a couple of poker buddies trying to get out of debt
in New York's underground gambling scene. Especially intriguing
is Steven Soderbergh's Out of Sight, based on an Elmore
Leonard (Get Shorty) novel about a female federal marshal
taken hostage by a prison robber. It'll be fascinating to see
how Soderbergh--who made Sex, Lies and Videotape and has
more directing talent than he knows what to do with--handles such
actors as George Clooney, Jennifer Lopez, Albert Brooks and Catherine
Keener.
My personal pick? Brian DePalma's Snake Eyes. DePalma,
last seen directing the not-quite-coherent Mission: Impossible,
lives for suspense set pieces--and that's certainly what he's
got in this tale of an investigator (Nicolas Cage) who tries to
catch an assassin using the security cameras at a heavyweight-boxing
arena during a thunderstorm. Only DePalma, who has spent over
half his career attempting to improve on Hitchcock, could pull
this one off.
YOU NEVER KNOW
WHO KNOWS WHAT to expect from Wes Craven's remake of the
horror classic Carnival of Souls; or a philosophical sci-fi
piece called Pi; or the obsessive-boyfriend romantic comedy
Mr. Jealousy? Who knows what to make of Disturbing Behavior,
about a town that somehow manages to turn rebellious teens into
Stepford Wife-like overachievers? Will The Negotiator,
a generic-sounding thriller, waste the talents of Kevin Spacey
and Samuel L. Jackson? Will Cube, about a cubic labyrinth
full of booby traps, live up to the similar dreams I've had? Will
Clay Pigeons, a bloody black comedy starring Vince Vaughn,
Joaquin Phoenix and Janeane Garofalo, be smart enough for its
cast? How can the disco movie 54, starring Mike Myers,
Salma Hayek and Neve Campbell, ever measure up to Boogie Nights?
And why bother with Baby Geniuses, a comedy about super-intelligent
toddlers, when you can expand your mind watching Teletubbies
for free? These are the questions. Only time, and a great many
wasted afternoons in the cineplex, will answer them.
AVOID
SOMETIMES HOLLYWOOD DOES you a favor and turns out movies
you just know will blow. You can be sure, for instance, that Dead
Man on Campus (which has been rotting on a shelf for over
a year) won't live long in theaters; and there's no worry of the
Jamie Lee Curtis evil-alien movie Virus replicating itself
into any sequel. BASEketball, featuring the underwhelming
talents of Jenny McCarthy and Ernest Borgnine, sounds like a no-hitter
based on name alone (though some will undoubtedly go just to see
South Park's Trey Parker and Matt Stone make jokes about
"foul balls"). At least Van Damme's Knock Off
has an appropriate title: It's indistinguishable from anything
else he's ever done.
But when it comes to tired, one-joke comedy, Super Dave Osborne--whose
shtick consists of attempting Evel Knievel-like daredevil stunts
that end with a dummy-Dave dying horribly--surpasses them all
by leaps and bounds. Super Dave's movie Be the Man even
makes Dorf on Golf sound brilliant. It could be the one
picture in this list that's so bad, it's actually good.
|
|