If you think the presence of Richard Gere, Sharon Stone and Martin Landau might be enough to encourage a dabble with a 1990s movie, please be warned that the late great Landau is lamentably underused, while Stone does better than Gere. In spite of that, Landau as "Neal" - the boss of Gere's character Vincent Eastman gets the best line in the film, as he tries to reinform Vincent that, while he has a new woman in his life (Lolita Davidovich as Oliva), he still co-works with his wife Sally (Stone), there is even occasional office semi-flirtation between them, and Vincent is also a regular visitor at Sally's (his former) home, even though her new guy now appears there regularly. Vincent and Sally also have a teenage daughter (played by a Jenny Morrison who arguably offers the best moments of acting here, as we first see her face brighten up so naturally when her dad appears at her ballet class, and then - unlike in any film you've ever, ever seen - IS prepared to accept the peace gestures offered by "other woman" Olivia, who really does manage to convince the young daughter that she is not a wicked witch).
Apart from such moments of mini-inspiration (there is another with a child actor featuring sweet-rolls!), exhaustingly much of what we get in this Vancouver-based movie from Mark Rydell is Gere reminiscing and soul-searching about how things were with Sally (occasionally good, but often also bad), and also how things were with Olivia (pretty good, but always with her somehow looking like second choice, and not quite as hot to boot).
Needless to say, the topic is a familiar one which has plenty of merit. But it will not escape anyone's notice that what really matters here is the nature of the breakdown between Vincent and Stone's ravishingly-attractive Sally. And answers come there few, except that it seems Sally is a bit too controlling, and not quite as sexy in behaviour as Vincent (and perhaps also the audience) would like her to be.
Given the shared love for daughter Meghan and several things Sally and Vincent (as opposed to Sally and Olivia) still have in common, this scarcely seems enough data on which to hang a 98-minute film. And in any case, it's sad (but also enigmatic) to see how two people who really might get on do not do so. The impasse is such that the makers here have just one obvious way out, and needless to say they take it.
That just enhances the sadness, obviously.
Gere does not come over as a particularly negative character, but the aforesaid Landau line makes it abundantly clear that Vincent does not really know what he wants...
And that's it, really...
Apart from such moments of mini-inspiration (there is another with a child actor featuring sweet-rolls!), exhaustingly much of what we get in this Vancouver-based movie from Mark Rydell is Gere reminiscing and soul-searching about how things were with Sally (occasionally good, but often also bad), and also how things were with Olivia (pretty good, but always with her somehow looking like second choice, and not quite as hot to boot).
Needless to say, the topic is a familiar one which has plenty of merit. But it will not escape anyone's notice that what really matters here is the nature of the breakdown between Vincent and Stone's ravishingly-attractive Sally. And answers come there few, except that it seems Sally is a bit too controlling, and not quite as sexy in behaviour as Vincent (and perhaps also the audience) would like her to be.
Given the shared love for daughter Meghan and several things Sally and Vincent (as opposed to Sally and Olivia) still have in common, this scarcely seems enough data on which to hang a 98-minute film. And in any case, it's sad (but also enigmatic) to see how two people who really might get on do not do so. The impasse is such that the makers here have just one obvious way out, and needless to say they take it.
That just enhances the sadness, obviously.
Gere does not come over as a particularly negative character, but the aforesaid Landau line makes it abundantly clear that Vincent does not really know what he wants...
And that's it, really...