Reviews

Here we go again. Another chapter in Scorsese's love affair with slimeballs. Whether it be Italian or Irish he has an unreasonable fascination for the genre.

The central baddie is played by Jack Nicholson who does nothing but play Jack Nicholson. He chews every piece of scenery with a reprise of the malevolence he exhibited in "The Shining". You would think that a director with the skills of Scorsese could control him. But, perhaps he didn't want to do so. In any event, his performance is operatic and intolerable.

Damon and De Caprio do well, as do Alec Baldwin, Martin Sheen and Mark Wahlberg, but not well enough to make sense or meaning of an atrocious script.

Scorsese showed us that he can be skilled in material other than sewer trash, with "The Age Of Innocence". Please Martin, give this garbage a rest.

Down With Love purports to be a sort of homage to the no-sex comedies of Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Unlike Far From Heaven, last year's look back at Douglas Sirk's Lana Turner/Jane Wyman, Universal-International epics, it does not succeed. The glitzy surface is there, but it suffers from a poorly cast leading duo.

Ms. Zellweger looks ludicrous in much of the clothing. Her face is too round and her hair too long. She just looks silly in the first costume she wears. One wonders if homage did not decide to dabble at satire. She is unable to project the kind of self-righteous indignation which made Doris Day so funny in these films.

Mr. McGregor, a very capable actor in the right role, is hopelessly at sea here. He is too slight for the role and without the charismatic sexuality that Rock Hudson seemed to make irresistible.

David Hyde-Pierce is marvelous in the role that used to belong to Tony Randall. One is always disappointed when he is not on screen. Randall himself appears in a cameo as the corporate big-wig.

Rent Pillow Talk and save yourself ten dollars.

Don't let the fact that Robert Altman, for whom you have some respect directed this movie, con you into seeing it. It is a rambling, pointless, indulgent, inept fiasco that should be avoided. Why any studio would put up the money to film it is unfathomable. If I were to edit the film it wouldn't run longer than the titles.

If you have seen the trailer for this film, you have seen its best moments. It simply goes nowhere and is not particularly funny. The cast is uniformly excellent, but fey can go just so far. The ingredients for an amusing film seem to be on hand, but it just dissipates into nothing more than an unfulfilled exercise in eccentricity.

I usually enjoy Coen Brothers films, but this one left me wishing it would end as quickly as possible. I could have walked, but at some point I thought perhaps something consequential might happen. It didn't. I think it is meant to be a satire of all the noir films from Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice to the more recent L.A. Confidential. Instead, there is no more than enough material here for a 15 minute sketch on Saturday Night Live.

Mr. North is a charming,sophisticated and wittily performed comedy of manners.

There are no aliens, nor special effects. What there is is a cast of perfection, who performs this tongue in cheek delight flawlessly. Edwards, Bacall, Stanton and the great Robert Mitchum head a cast that has just the right touch for this adaptation of Thornton Wilder's novel.

Newport, Rhode Island is the exquisite setting for this little jewel.

I could not help but wish that the film had been more successful financially, for then we might have availed ourselves of The Further Adventures of Mr. North.

Tom Hanks is fine in Cast Away. It's too bad the script is another of Zemeckis's uplifting pieces of puffery.

Hanks does a fine job in the center of the film, the portion devoted to his stranding on an island, with little hope of return to civilization. Here the character is well drawn and his strength of determination is admirable. It is when he is rescued that the film falls apart. Instead of all the product pushing of Fed-Ex and his evident affection for those responsible for the loss of a large chunk of his life, it would be a great deal more satisfying to see him getting a high powered lawyer to sue the blazes out of them. It is time for Hanks to stop being likeable and take the role of a thoroughly despicable character. He runs the risk of continuing to be the Jimmy Stewart of this generation. One of those was enough. No more treacle!

Gladiator is Ridley Scott's attempt at a Quo Vadis/Ben Hur for the year 2000. Scott has been responsible for some rather good films, i.e.Blade Runner and Thelma and Louise. He has also done some TV commercials that are dazzling. Gladiator is beautifully filmed, although the special effects are labored and somewhat annoying. It is basically a popcorn epic without a thought. What holds the film together is Russell Crowe's remarkable presence. Together with Ralph Fiennes he may be the most talented screen actor before the public today. The camera loves his face and the soundtrack his voice. Supporting his efforts is a cast of absolute perfection. Connie Nielsen as the quasi- love interest is not a great beauty, but is hypnotically interesting. Joaquin Phoenix as the resident "mad hatter emperor" leaves no scenery unchewed in a sort of Freudian twist on the genre. They are backed by a veteran British cast of absolute perfection: Derek Jacobi, Richard Harris, a bloated David Hemmings and the late Oliver Reed. What in the end makes the film come a cropper is dialogue from the screen writers that is utterly laughable. You won't be bored by the film, but I wish Russell would just cash the check, ( I hope it is a large one), and get on with his appropriate business of making first rate films that can make use of his enormous talent.

The Last Seduction is a terrific film, whose roots can be traced to the films-noir of the 1940's and in particular to Double Indemnity. Bad woman, uses and abuses good and bad men for her own base aims. Films such as this are all atmosphere. The plot should never be examined too carefully for inconsistencies. They are there, but who cares. Linda Fiorentino is superb as the very, very bad woman, who leads everyone down the path of sex and greed. Delicious.

The Blair Witch Project is really about an animal. The kind that has wings. The one that immediately comes to mind is an awkward Turkey, not fit for viewing or acceptable for Thanksgiving Dinner. Obviously, cineastes find more to this film than I. I'll stick to the cranberries and pass the bird.

This film is a major piece of drivel. Its popularity is an alarming sign of the "dumbing down" of art, thought, taste and education. It is no wonder that it made many millions and is so well loved. At least it was Tom Hanks who made the millions and not Charlton Heston. Harrumph!!!!!

My Life So Far, is a very gentle film and a likeable one.

Its story comes from a time that will never again be seen. Set in pre-WW II Scotland, it tells of a large family's relationship with each other and with the beloved estate upon which they live. It moves leisurely from scene to scene, spinning a story that is propelled by a logical flow of occurrences. There are no wrenching emotional peaks. There is conflict, but civilized behavior wins the day.

The actors are without flaw. Every role is cast as it should be. Seeing it, is as comforting as a delicious cup of hot chocolate on a 10 degree day.

I loathed this movie. It's star Benigni, is like a wind-up Jerry Lewis doll on speed. I could not buy the idea that this very nice woman (who in fact is his wife in real life), would do anything but have him arrested for harassing her. His behavior at the Academy Awards is a very good preview for those who have not seen this film. If you thought he was cute and endearing, by all means see it. If you thought he should have been carted away and tranquilized, stay away.

Alan Bates and Julie Christie take on Terence Rattigan's fine brace of stories and give lessons in the art of acting. Bates is wonderful and Christie is nothing short of miraculous. A must see.

This film is a charming trifle. Fred Astaire with the partner of his dreams, Rita Hayworth. Watch for the wonderful French doors scene. They are both lighter than air and she was, in fact, never lovelier.

Grapes Of Wrath is utterly faithful to John Steinbeck's sad document of Dust Bowl Okies seeking a way to survive. The cast is perfect, the direction the great achievement of John Ford's career, and the photography a work of art. Although Citizen Kane is generally acknowledged to be the greatest of American films, Grapes of Wrath is right up their nipping at its heels. No one who takes film as a serious medium of expression should fail to experience this work.

Each year films are made which are not very good ones. It is difficult to unwittingly make a film which instantly qualifies as one of the 100 or so worst ones ever made. Tea With Mussolini manages to make a very good case for qualification in this category. It is simply dreadful, mawkish, unreal, manipulative hogwash.