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 ANTZ. Remember Woody Allen? Well, he's back--in ant form!
Woody plays himself, only with more chitin, in this perverted
children's story about an ant who is emotionally unable to support
his colony's collective consciousness. He accidentally becomes
a war hero, kidnaps a princess, leads a Marxist revolution, and
has a fulfilling relationship with his wife's adopted daughter.
Well, three out of those four, anyway. I'm not really sure at
what audience this movie is aimed, since its "G" rating
and the fact that its animated seems to direct it toward kids;
but Allen, as Z the Ant, makes comments like "Just for that
I'm no longer including you in my wild, erotic fantasies,"
which I'm not sure is kid stuff. (I haven't been a kid for a while
so I could be off-base here). Still, this is the most Woody Allen-like
Woody Allen film since Manhattan, so maybe it's for that
next generation of self-obsessed neurotic pre-schoolers who've
been looking for a voice for their generation. Still, there's
something a bit unnerving about this project--do we want Woody
Allen attracting underage fans? --DiGiovanna
FIRELIGHT. This hilarious sci-fi/comedy/period romance
is what PBS will look like in the future, when all the other channels
offer nothing but pornography and live executions. Andrea Dworkin
would love the plot: It's about a woman (Sophie Marceau) who contracts
out as a prostitute/baby machine for an anonymous rich man, with
whom she instantly falls in love. After their three-day affair
ends, she's never to see him again, though she must surrender
the child they have conceived to his agents. Seven years later,
she inexplicably becomes her own daughter's governess. I really
cannot express how funny this film is: When Marceau finds her
daughter, the daughter says, "Why did you give me away?";
and Marceau replies "I didn't--I sold you." I haven't
heard so many guffaws in a movie theater since the death scene
in Rocky IV. --DiGiovanna
HOLY MAN. Eddie Murphy must be blessed, because there's
no other way to explain his recurring leading roles. This is the
Oh God sequel you never expected nor wanted, with Murphy
getting in touch with his spiritual side as G, a pilgrim who befriends
infomercial director Ricky (Jeff Goldblum) and uses his vast powers
to aid Ricky's faltering career and love life. The really tough
choices, of course, Ricky must make for himself--such as whether
to endure a relationship with fashion-challenged Kate (Kelly Preston)
or set up situations to be naked with G. I don't want to give
away the ending, so let's just say that most major religious groups
won't be offended. --Higgins
THE IMPOSTORS. Stanley Tucci wrote and directed this delightful
light comedy, set aboard a sumptuous 1930s luxury boat. Tucci
and Oliver Platt play Arthur and Maurice, an inseparable skinny/fat
pair of actors who're nothing if not dedicated to their craft
and each other. Though not very successful on stage, the two hold
the philosophy that anytime is a good time to act--in a pastry
shop, a sidewalk café, you name it. Such shenanigans of
course get them into trouble, and before you know it they've inadvertently
stowed away on a boat. Such ridiculous comic tropes actually work,
because the script is smart; and the ensemble cast, including
Isabella Rossellini, Steve Buscemi, and Lili Taylor, seems to
be having a ball. --Richter
NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY. Try "night at the torture chamber."
First they tried to break me with that damn Haddaway song, then
it was the breast montage. But I was strong. I lasted through
the way-dumbed-down Swingers plot, lame references to the
over-referenced '70s, overused jokes, and the ass montage.
Other viewers must be similarly tenacious, because Night has
lasted longer in the theaters than It's Pat! (Granted,
one day at the box office isn't tough to beat.) Short Doug (Chris
Kattan) and tall Steve (Will Ferrell) are the clubbing brothers
from Saturday Night Live who (this is the clever part)
don't realize how annoying they are. They have a dream and...yawn...achieve
it by the film's end. And they get laid (maybe that's the
clever part). We're graced with brief appearances by Loni Anderson
and Richard Grieco, but they were much too little, too late. What
finally broke me was the running time--almost two hours. It's
really all about endurance.--Higgins
ONE TRUE THING. Poor Rene Zewiggler--she perpetually looks
like she's about to cry. At least that probably made her a shoo-in
for this weepie about how a family handles their dying mother/wife
(Meryl Streep). Daughter Ellen (Zewiggler) has a crush on her
father (William Hurt and runaway goatee), and is therefore successfully
manipulated into postponing her promising writing career to play
caretaker. In the process she discovers how devalued her mom has
been as a homemaker and that her dad would not be a fun date.
While it's nice to see a film that focuses on a mother-daughter
relationship, it seems a bit cruel to show the underdeveloped
characters wading through the contrived scenes with the assistance
of alcohol without offering any to the audience. Most recent Hollywood
films about women over 40 are just plain boring, though in this
case it probably has a lot to do with the insane amount of Bette
Midler music on the soundtrack. For you Beverly Hills, 90210
fans out there, you'll be glad to see that Mr. Walsh (James Eckhouse)
has expanded his range to include a supporting role as a lawyer.--Higgins
PRACTICAL MAGIC. Survey a bunch of witches about what they
want most, and nine out of 10 will tell you good, old-fashioned
love. The other 10-percent will insist that their true desire
is a soundtrack that masquerades as a script. Sally (Sandra Bullock)
and Gillian (Nicole Kidman) are sisters (but, really, aren't we
all?) who are witchy and cursed--if they fall in love, their men
will die. Sally resolves to beat it with normality (husband, kids,
etc.), while Gillian accepts it and pursues a good time. This,
of course, means that Gillian must be punished, so her boyfriend
returns from the dead to torture her. Sally exorcises him, then
falls in love with a cop (Aidan Quinn) and makes out. The more
interesting story--the one of their aunts (Stockard Channing and
Diane Wiest)--is unfortunately of lesser importance. But at least
Wiest gets to utter the line, "There's a little witch in
all of us." Gals, this is empowering stuff. --Higgins
URBAN LEGEND. Did you ever hear the one about the Hollywood
movie that was actually satisfying? A friend of my second cousin's
friend heard about it, and it's true! Several of those scary stories
you believed as a kid are compiled here for a by-the-book but
nonetheless clever horror film. The tortured female this time
is Natalie (Alicia Witt), a coed with a past that includes the
death of a teenage boy because of her enactment of an urban legend.
Well, somebody knows what she did last summer and is playing out
other terrifying tales on her friends, such as hiding in the back
of a car with an ax and killing her roommate while she sleeps
in the next bed. Robert Englund (best known as Freddy Krueger
from the Nightmare on Elm Street series) plays one of the
main suspects, Professor Wexler, and doe-eyed Jared Leto and clean-skinned
Rebecca Gayheart offer lots of frightening cuteness. --Higgins
WHAT DREAMS MAY COME. Hamlet fretted over what dreams may
come when we shuffle off this mortal coil, but Robin Williams
doesn't have to worry, because he's already been to heaven. And
Annabella Sciorra has been to hell. This well-intentioned but
stupid mutation of the Orpheus story (based on the novel by Richard
Matheson) concerns a very happy couple who like each other a lot.
In fact, Christy and Annie Nielsen (Williams and Sciorra) are
soulmates. They have it all: an upscale life, a nanny, expensive
objects, until their kids die in a car crash, and then Christy
dies in one, too. Eventually he ends up in heaven, and his wife
ends up in hell--Max Von Sydow plays the shrink-turned-ferryman
who navigates between the two. The special effects are pretty
darn nifty here, and as a welcome relief, they don't involve any
shooting or blowing up. But the freshman-level philosophy ("You
know who you are because you think you do!" ) and tons of
painful psychoblather shove this movie into the fiery depths of
banality. There is one good part: We get to hear Robin Williams
called "Christy" for two hours, evoking images of a
freshly scrubbed teenage girl in a tennis skirt. --Richter
WILDE. As in Oscar. This is another film by Brian Gilbert,
who brought us Tom and Viv and seems quite fascinated by
the secret bodice-ripping lives of literary figures. Though Wilde's
life is anything but secret. The usual high points are visited
here--his marriage, the discovery of his "true nature"
with the help of a young relative, his Platonic love for boys,
in particular Lord Alfred Douglas (Jude Law), who led to his downfall
and eventual imprisonment for immoral behavior or debauchery or
whatever they called sex between men then. As always when visiting
the 19th century, there's lots of transgressive sex. Here we have
"buggering" in soft focus and some hot, deep, man-on-boy
mouth kissing. Nothing else stands out in this movie; I found
Stephen Fry's Wilde a bit too trembly and vulnerable for the great
wit who loved irony. Still, Wilde will do for evenings
when Masterpiece Theater has been preempted; though you have to
agree, if it were really good, they would have thought of a better
title. --Richter
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