A Kid in King Arthur's Court. This low-quality fare from
Disney features a lame script, bland direction and contemptible
acting. If you take your kids to see it, they might lead a violent
revolt against you using whiffle bats and plastic swords, so be
careful. Even Runaway Brain, the 5-minute Mickey Mouse
cartoon that precedes the movie, is second-rate all the way. With
the hundreds of Arthurian, time-travel and old Disney videos that
infinitely outclass this tripe, consider setting up your own round
table at home instead. Christen it with a VCR and let Merlin's
magical remote control be your guide.
A Walk in the Clouds. From Alfonso Arau, director of Like
Water For Chocolate, comes this pleasantly magical-realist
W.W.II-era romance about a GI (Keanu Reeves) who pretends to be
the husband of a lovely, troubled woman (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon)
to save her from the tradition-obsessed wrath of her father (Giancarlo
Giannini), head of a family-run vineyard in Napa Valley. Arau's
direction is smile-inducing and swift, and the actors are all
charming, especially Anthony Quinn as an unflaggingly earnest,
chocolate-chomping grandfather. But the movie's combination of
love, family and good cheer is almost too perfect, too postcardy.
Remarkably, what saves it is Reeves' laughably monotonous performance--just
the weird element the picture needs to keep its innocence interesting.
Babe. Animal training and animatronics blend seamlessly
in this terrific children's story about a polite piglet who breaks
through the rules of barnyard conformity to do her own thing--herd
sheep. Made in Australia, with perfectly-cast voices and an impressive
assemblage of good-looking animals, the movie has storytelling
chutzpah on its side: The scenes are playfully divided into episodic
chapters, and the atmosphere feels like it was painted onto the
screen directly from the most imaginative kids' books. Thankfully,
dark, Orwellian moments keep the cute bits in balance--something
more children's movies ought to do.
Dangerous Minds. Michelle Pfeiffer stars in this mostly
effective drama about an unorthodox inner-city high school teacher
who wins the attention (and affection) of a classroom full of
hard-to-reach minority students. The material, though clumsily
constructed, has social relevance to spare, and the filmmakers'
commitment to a bare-bones plot is honorable. The uneasy mix of
realism and Hollywood slickness does create some embarrassing
notes, but Pfeiffer's charm overrides most of the rough spots--with
her soft-toned, tough-loving demeanor she's a perfect educational
love object.
Desperado. Richard Rodriquez, in his $7 million sequel
to the $7 thousand career-making actioner El Mariachi,
has crafted a funny, enjoyably senseless tribute to the over-the-top
violence of directors like John Woo. And he's found the most attractive
of leads: Antonio Banderas stars as the dark, vengeful loner with
a guitar case full of guns, and Salma Hayek plays the shapely
love interest who stitches up his many wounds. Offering their
comic services, independent film icons Steve Buscemi, Quentin
Tarantino and the shifty-eyed Cheech Marin make valiant efforts,
but Rodriguez makes one unfortunate mistake: He kills them off
too soon, leaving the second half of his film without much personality.
As a friend said, "Good gunplay, bad screenplay."
First Knight. A round table, a love triangle, a square
movie. Sean Connery plays King Arthur with his usual regal gravity,
Richard Gere reinvents Sir Lancelot as a manic-depressive (but
mostly manic) derring-doer, and Julia Ormond is Guinevere, the
doe-eyed, perpetually confused object of their love. The film
vacillates between blustery action sequences and moments of cheesy
romantic tension, including a rather pornographic scene in which
Gere channels rainwater into Guinevere's mouth via a big leaf.
Lord Of Illusions. A Manson-esque cult leader with supernatural
powers, a world-famous magician with an ill-timed sword trick,
a New York detective who is "drawn to the dark side,"
a love interest/potential victim who wears sheer garments with
no bra, and more violent impalings than you can shake a stick
at... What more could you ask for from a Clive Barker horror flick?
Well, for starters, you might ask for a plot that makes sense,
intelligent characters or scares that don't become increasingly
dull and hokey as the film progresses. A few more impalings wouldn't
hurt.
Mortal Kombat. There's nothing like 90 minutes of karate
matches and techno music to make you feel stupid. This expensive
and admittedly well-made advertisement for the Mortal Kombat video
game doesn't have enough thrills to keep the simplistic comic-book
story interesting, and you're left wondering why so many video
games center around competitive brutality in the first place.
The film is actually rather harmless, though, and good for a laugh
or two, so if you're into fight choreography it might be worth
a look. Just be warned: No one who sits through the film will
be able to get the cheesy title song out of his head for at least
a week.
The Net. Once again, Sandra Bullock gives a top-notch performance
as the accidental victim in a fast action thriller. This time
she's on her own, as the introverted, computer program analyst
who stumbles into the twisted world of cyberterrorism. Sci-fi
fans and computer phobics alike will appreciate the implications
of an Orwellian future in which our entire identities are stored
on the Internet, where the war of the Information Age is waiting
to break out. If you can willingly suspend your disbelief, this
one will keep you frozen over your popcorn throughout.
Something To Talk About. From the screenwriter who gave
us Thelma & Louise comes this insightful yet directionless
tale of a Southern wife (Julia Roberts) who has to re-think her
life when she learns her husband (Dennis Quaid) has been having
several affairs. Crisp direction by Lasse Hallestrom, warmly vibrant
cinematography and a handful of fun performances (by Kyra Sedgwick,
Robert Duvall and Gene Rowlands) keep the film enjoyable long
after the story has lost sight of a point. And Roberts is surprisingly
good--after years of limited performances in dumb roles, she really
seems to be blossoming.
Waterworld. "Was this your big vision?" the tattooed
child asks at the end, and you might be thinking the same thing
after watching $200 million in sets and special effects wash away
in this ill-conceived spectacle. Good enough to sit through but
not nearly good enough to justify its magnitude, the film stars
Kevin Costner as a seafaring Mad Max type who eventually saves
a scruffy girl (Tina Majorino) and a bland love interest (Jeanne
Tripplehorn) from a gang of cigar-chomping baddies led, all-too-familiarly,
by Dennis Hopper. The sci-fi premise and watery atmosphere have
potential, but the picture evaporates into a series of bloated,
ineffective action set-pieces.
LESBIAN FILM SERIES. Anne Chamberlain's award-winning films
have been screened at Gay Film Festivals around the world, from
San Francisco to Hong Kong. Five of her short films will be screened
on Saturday, September 9, at the Institute for Creative Studies,
530 N. Stone Ave. Familiar address, you say? That's right--the
D.P.C. reopens under a new name and new ownership, with a gala
grand opening celebration this weekend including live music, performance
art and comedy in addition to the following screenings: Premenstrual,
Ride on Rosa, Burden of Dykes, Condomnation and Thelma
and Louise Don't Live Here Anymore. A discussion with the
filmmaker will follow. Call 628-1650 for information.
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