Reviews

Suuzin of San Francisco and I are soul mates! When I happened to mention my objection to this film at a gathering of women, they all glared at me & said, "What's with the deeper meanings? Just sit back & let this film wash over you!" OK, that's what 95% of the movie audience does, as I can tell from other "user comments" to the effect of "it's funny, what's with you?" Nevertheless, like Suuzin, I'm adding my comment about the "deeper meaning," which has to do with our WASP guy's consent to be baptized into the Greek Orthodox Church. Any Greek Orthodox theologians out there who can enlighten me as to whether the GO view of baptism is the same as the Catholics'? Because if it is, it wasn't necessary for him to be re-baptized if he had been baptized as an infant into ANY Christian denomination. That's what "one faith, one baptism" MEANS. Now, if his parents were Unitarians & never had him baptized, that's another story. (I suspected they were Episcopalians, from appearances.) At any rate, they should have been INFORMED about the baptism & invited to participate. (The baptism scene shows only her family members' being present.) So what am I, over-sensitive (I'm actually an agnostic, but take spiritual matters seriously) that I'd like to know if any actual acceptance of his fiancee's religious BELIEFS (if any) accompanied this baptism? I have seen too many married partners simply shrug and say, "Whatever" & "convert" to the other partners belief just to keep peace in the family. This is not what religion is (supposed to be) all about! So the whole point of the film is, as a WASP he's a tiny little nothing who needs to be co-opted by the Greeks to achieve any individuality & identity. Could be true--but how does he define the religious component of his "new self"?

Not seeing anything about Laura Morelli (the actress--I presume-who plays June) on your site, I went to the official Sony site for this movie; nothing there, either. Much gushing about the "young actors" & the "old actors" & the wonderful symbiosis between them; nothing about poor June (Jack & Amy's autistic daughter), who figures as the object of Amy's painful weekly pilgrimages to the "asylum" (!--Roger Eberts' word--shame, shame!) where June is lodged in apparent (expensive) comfort (all paid for out of the butcher's income, said to be on the wane? Or is this the quality of public institutions in England? One wonders!). And nothing about Laura Morelli on IMDb or the official web site--is she an actress or an actual autistic person brought in (one might say, exploited) for this role? The Sony site brings into high relief the additional contrast between four guys in a car having a grand time (both in the film & on the set) while Amy makes her lonely & unfulfilling pilgrimage to the "asylum." At the end, Amy decides to give up on June--the one decision in the movie that seems forced, arbitrary. If only she'd explained it a little more! Because June is part of Jack, & Jack is dead now, & Amy's ready to go on to another life with Ray, possibly in Australia? Because Amy would like to get in on some of the fun that "the boys in the car" are having? Because she realizes that selfless devotion to an apparently unappreciative person is not only unrewarding but probably foolish? As the sister of a mentally retarded woman, who doesn't seem to recognize me when I go to visit, I say, "Don't be too sure of that, Amy." Yes--the boys in the car are having a "great time." But they are all going to DIE, that's the message of that last image of the four of them on the pier. And, as we're told in the medieval play "Everyman," only one's good deeds go down with one into the grave.

It's not often one encounters a movie as well structured as "Lantana," in which nothing, even a small gesture like a woman putting her hand on a man's arm, is wasted. Wonder what the original play, "Speaking in Tongues" (an inscrutably allusive title) was like? Some might object that in a fairly large city (Sydney?) such as this appears to be, it's improbable that four couples' lives could become so multiply interconnected, but I believe this is a symbolic, thematic interconnectedness, like that of the characters in Dickens' "Bleak House." Yes, what we do in our "personal relationships" does impinge on other people, and on the world at large. As we watch four couples work out their marital problems to the conclusion, where one marriage is irrevocably shattered, two are on firm ground again and the continued success of the fourth (Jane's) is questionable, it feels good to be involved with movie characters of actual maturity, complexity, and depth.

I recently watched this movie for the first time as a sort of tribute to the late lamented Billy Wilder, having heard it was his best comedy. I agree there is much to admire in the plotting & pacing of this "madcap farce," and also that one is inclined to forgive inconsistencies such as how Tony Curtis can put on, a few hours later, an immaculate blazer previously plunged into a soapy bathtub (& which was cadged from the luggage of a much shorter, plumper man). BUT I have one large objection: the scene in which Tony Curtis attempts to seduce Marilyn Monroe by telling her that he is naturally not attracted to women, thereby prompting HER to attempt to seduce HIM, really suffers from the datedness of the arch approach to what could be discussed freely today: is he, or does he fear he is, a homosexual? In order to persuade him that he is a sexually "normal" male, she kisses him repeatedly. She does NOT do what any normal woman (in 1929, the supposed time setting, or 1959, the actual setting) would have done: take off some clothes & wait for him to have an erection. Because, you will tell me, of the movie code of the '50s, she has to let her kisses represent a series of more erotic actions. However, we are left unconvinced even by this metaphoric seduction, because we wonder, notably, how could Tony Curtis not respond to the luscious Monroe even in the filming of this scene (where she is lying on top of him), how could "Joe" school himself not to respond to "Sugar," how could even a neurotically frigid male (such as Curtis is pretending to be) not respond for SO long? It's odd that all the scenes involving men pretending to be women work well, but this one supposedly "heterosexual" scene strains credulity on every level.

I'm always amazed when I read the "user comments" (since when have movie viewers been "users" anyway? Are movies like marijuana?) to see how many people pick up some vague impression of the mood of the film (in this case, "a tender love story") without any notion of the theme. Maybe that's because the theme is so often (clunkily) explicated in one "telling" scene where one character (in this case, the mother) tells another what it is REALLY all about, & often everything we have seen before or after contradicts the point!

So, our heroine's mother tells her co-dependancy is REALLY okay, & it's REALLY okay to string along with a person who has problems & isn't doing anything to solve them, because (get this!) you may enjoy some really great sex along the way! Case in point: alcoholism! Had the person who wrote this scene ever gone to bed with someone so drunk he couldn't even get it up? As far as I'm concerned, in a movie billed as "science fiction," this was the most unbelievable scene, & it didn't have anything to do with time travel!

Why is it in movies that include a therapist, the therapist is so often totally off the mark? (The only recent exception I can think of is "Panic.") So, in this movie we have TWO mother figures, the evil therapist & the good mother. The therapist tells her she should stop hooking up w/ losers & trying to "save" them (good advice, & exactly what I would tell MY daughter--what about you?). The mother says, "Oh, I don't know, honey, these dysfunctional guys can be really good in bed." Fortunately, at the end our hero is cured, so it doesn't matter anyway.

Hmm, it's about 1975 in Sweden & this bunch of hippies are living together in what appears to be a clean, neat, colorful & well-appointed home. Everyone has recently showered & in some cases, shaved (tho' not under the arms). Dishes & laundry are somehow done & everyone has a variety of outfits. No one (except the heroine's estranged husband who is a plumber with plenty of time between calls to sit & schmooze & drink coffee) seems to be working, but there is enough money for all these clothes & for food (even the occasional treat). Is that because Sweden is a socialist country, or are all these people living off trust funds?

Most striking of all, no one is smoking anything!

I agree with the viewer who said it left him all bubbly in the stomach, only my bubbliness came from wishing I could live in a household like that, apparently kept clean by little elves working at night. P.S.: This vision of the world is often obvious in films made by men.

"It's a doggie-dog world," as one of my students once said (who could have been talking about "Amores Perros," I suppose). That's the ultimate, &, as Mr. Creeden said, cynical point of this movie, that begins so wonderfully &, as he also said, gets a flat tire about 3/4 of the way through.

Here's how I thought it would develop: our hero, the older diamond salesmen, who's depicted as an honest, decent guy throughout, would reveal the true state of affairs to the police & to his employer, would (true to form in the modern business world) get absolutely no credit for it, would go home utterly discouraged (but not cynical), would be rescued by his lady-friend, & with her, go into the dog-breeding business, where both would be poor but happy.

But, no, such an ending would have no appeal for cynical modern folks (did you know that "cynical" comes from the Greek word for "dog"?). So this movie ends where "Sexy Beast" begins.

I guess the most cynical (& to me unbelievable) aspect is that we are supposed to believe that this man, who never cheated on his wife during a long marriage (& even during a period of grief after her death), would willfully & merrily cheat his employers' INSURANCE COMPANY (& thereby ALL their other clients, to whom their loss would be distributed). No, it's obvious to me that the scriptwriters lost their way. Too bad, because this movie, destined to be a little gem, was thereby seriously flawed.

Who came up with the summary, "spirals out of control"? Margaret, is, if anything, too much in control! One waits throughout the movie for her control to break. Who put her in charge of her son's destiny? Why is she willing, even at the moment she "speaks the truth" in all but this one respect, to specify HERSELF as the one responsible for her son's lover's death? She'll do anything to help him go on to college as a music major, but she won't be able to shield him always from the consequences of his own bad judgment. And perhaps her horrified expression as she watches the video reflects this realization as much as it does her visceral horror at the activity taking place. He is the one who is "spiraling out of control"--HER control. She is trying, presumably at her husband's behest before he shipped out, to make & keep the world safe for her family. But their domestic tranquility is built on a foundation of corruption--that of nearby Reno & its gambling enterprises & related criminal activities. Perhaps at the end when she breaks down & weeps, she is finally letting go of her "sense of control," along with her innocence, which has been compromised much more deeply than that of her son.

Not having seen "Pulp Fiction" (!) & having seen this film only once (last night), & being a cat person rather than a dog person, I still venture to take issue with Alice Liddel (whose comments overall seem on target) on a two small points: (1) "mangy" dogs? How so? The old man was devoted to his dogs & cared for them well. He wasn't going to let THEM get mangy (mange is a skin disease you know, not a figure of speech) even though his personal hygiene habits are non-existent. (2) "In prison for 20 years"? Are we ever told for how long? And how long has he been out of prison? The setting of this movie is 1999 or after (we know from a gravestone inscription), & the Sandanistas (was he really a Sandanista? I caught a reference to Noriega & assumed he was fighting in Panama--was it really El Salvador?) flourished in the '70s & early '80s. Anyway, his daughter was 2 when he left to fight, & she's about 17 now. So the total lapse of time was 15 years--to fight, to be in prison, & to become a fixture of the Mexico City streets.

Not in response to Ms. Liddel but in general, I'm also puzzled by why Octavio's brother would take all the money his wife had saved ("more than enough to support us for 2 years," she said at one point), & still feel the need to rob a bank the same day. (We know it's the same day, because it's the day of the dogfight & the climactic car crash.) Also, he had come home that morning, badly beaten the night before--but we see no evidence of this in the bank robbery scene.

Do such structural discrepancies result from carelessness that the director hopes won't be noticed in the elaborate web of cross-cuttings and flashbacks & flash-forwards?

Also, in terms of motivation, I don't understand why the old man would kill his daughter's stepfather, someone she loved. If he loved her as much as he says, why would he do something so hurtful to her & financially destructive to the family? The only answer that occurs to me is that he wanted to see her mourn a "father," a surrogate for himself. That's why he shows up at the funeral--to see her grief & pretend that it's for him.

On the whole, I really liked this old man; he seemed to be the surrogate for God in the movie--so observant, so competent--while invisible to (written off by) the people he is observing so closely. Of course, the fact that he is a lapsed college professor had significance for me!

"The First of May" refers to a greenhorn in the circus business, and that's what young Cory (affectingly played by Dan Byrd) is, when he runs away from his current foster home & joins forces with Carlotta, a lonely, assertive woman condemned for some reason(she has no obvious physical or mental defect) to a restrictive Florida nursing home. Carlotta is no greenhorn, however; she has had years of experience in a circus & even encounters two old friends when she & Cory join Clyde Beatty's troop. The circus scenes alone, w/ their brilliant colors & daredevil activity, would be enough to attract young viewers, but the film is also based on the child-catching premise that a young person of pluck & ingenuity can rescue himself from a constrictive situation. I, for one, was sorry to see Cory return at the end to the kindly but clueless couple from whom he ran away. (In one episode they put him to bed without supper, without asking for any explanation of his behavior.) The lack of family dialogue, however, is more than made up for in his relationship with Carlotta, wonderfully played (complete with foreign accent--Austrian? Hungarian?) by the inimitable Julie Harris, who handles every scene, including dancing with an elephant, with dignified capability. Harris, Mickey Rooney, and several other actors (including Joe DiMaggio in a cameo) agreed to act in this film because it sends the message, "Adopt an unwanted child." But the more important message is, that with the concern & understanding of a few perceptive adults, a child can acquire the self-assurance he needs to succeed in an often irrational, unfriendly world.

While I was not bothered by what others see as the anachronistic views of slavery & women's lib expressed in this film, my suspension of disbelief was shattered by the framed self-portrait supposedly executed by Tom Bertram. "Very modern," sniffs his aunt, Mrs. Norris.

This painting's style & subject matter (self-portrait of the artist behind his easel, and behind him the figure of a slave in chains) would have been impossible in 1806, probably even in 1906. The sketchbook that Fanny finds later bothered me less, because it consists of quick charcoal sketches, meant to be private--but the idea that the family (or Tom himself) could have framed such a painting & hung it on the wall is inconceivable. It would not only have been regarded as ugly, but as symptomatic of the artist's insanity.

Remember, the time setting of this movie (1806) is years before the Impressionists, even, whose early works were thought of as "ugly" simply because the technique was unfamiliar. Thomas Lawrence or Sir Joshua Reynolds would have been appropriate for the walls of Mansfield Park, or an amateur "daubing" in style somewhat similar to these masters.

The use of this painting was supposed to prepare us for Tom's later breakdown at the prospect of being the heir of a slave-owner, & also to reinforce the "caged bird" motif which links Fanny, an unpaid domestic servant, with the slaves in the slave ship, but its crudity makes me blush for the director who undoubtedly had the funding--but not the knowledge of art history--to arrange for something appropriate and convincing.

I did think the parallel between Fanny's writing & Tom's art was interesting--the theme of artistic expression as a "way out" for the caged bird. It made me wonder why Fanny & Tom are never seen communicating. He seems more like a kindred spirit than Edmund. As I recall, in the novel he was nothing but a wastrel--but it's a long time since I've read "Mansfield Park," so I'm not about to compare the novel to the movie. I'd simply like the movie to be consistent within itself.

My view of this film may be distorted because I watched it on the American Movie Channel, where I used to be able to see a movie full-length without interruptions. This time, "Educating Rita" was cut to fit, so that we could see "commercial" breaks featuring 3 silly women discussing "father fixations." So I don't know what was left out. What SEEMS to have been left out, however, is the whole process by which Rita is transformed from a naive to a sophisticated student of literature. At the beginning, like so many students I have had, she's unable to say anything about a novel or play except that she liked it or it "blew her away." Her tutor enjoys her naivete & quotes her refreshing insights to his day students, whose pretense of sophistication has dulled their enthusiasm. But somewhere along the line she's transformed into a literary critic. This is about like watching a would-be surgeon operating on a squirrel with a kitchen knife in Scene 1, doing a triple heart-bypass on a human being in Scene 23, and never glimpsing her holding a scalpel in Scenes 2-22.

Along with this glaring omission, I was bothered by the fact that the professor, like Rita's husband, tries to convince her she's better off in a state of ignorance. She has to fight both of them in her struggle for self-fulfillment. Yet somehow the professor who's throwing sand in her gears becomes the "hero" of the piece.

Like "My Fair Lady," this film is a fine example of the "Pygmalion" theme, where Cinderella's fairy Godmother combines with the prince, giving us a male lead who both transforms and woos the infatuated & compliant female lead. I was happy that, at the end, Rita (Susan) knew better than both these men what she wanted in life & she was well on her way to achieving it.

"We do not encourage cross-species adoptions," says the orphanage lady as the Littles plead to adopt a mouse. Yes, there will be adjustment difficulties for both child & family, & yes, some nervousness as to how the relatives will react. And how awkward when the "natural parents" show up, wanting their child back, & take him to deprived environment complete w/ bedbugs. Where is Bob Green when we need him?

Nevertheless, the message is, it will all work out, given enough good will on everybody's part. Interestingly, in E.B. White's novel, Stuart is the NATURAL son of the Littles; how Mrs. L. gave birth to this freak is never explained, and these circumstances caused some librarians to boycott the book.

White's Stuart feels much less loyalty to his family than the movie's Stuart does. In fact, White's Stuart is "out of the nest" in rather short order--seeking his destiny in the person of an elusive bird (how's that for cross-species attraction?).

I wonder how White would feel about his novel's being made into a parable on the subject of inter-racial adoption?

One more point: As in the novel, the Littles are white people, their cat is white, & Stuart is a WHITE mouse--with brown eyes--an unusual if not impossible combination. But a truly albino, pink-eyed mouse might not project the same loveability, nor would, presumably, a brown mouse? Hmmm.

Hmm, all the comments I've read so far concentrate on Sabrina's relationship with the two brothers on L.I. But what about the Baron, whose interest in Sabrina in Paris transformed her, Gigi-like, from an awkward girl into a lovely woman? Even if we ignore the question of why the Baron was taking a "refresher course" in souffles in the first place [this is known as a "plot device"] we have to ask, what did the Baron do for Sabrina & why did he do it? While I was ready to believe that he relieved her of her virginity in return for the lovely wardrobe & the poodle, I had to doubt it when she told Linus Larrabee, "It was really only a change of haircut; inside I'm still the same." The Larrabee brothers are both so messed up, and their parents are such snobs, I was ready to believe Sabrina would take the single ticket to Paris and phone the baron as soon as she got there, congratulating herself on her narrow escape from submersion in the American plutocracy.

In a world full of violence, moral irresponsibility, crass commercialism, the subjugation of principle to expediency, what is left to us except the consolations of art? The message of this movie, it seems to me, is far from trite or cliched, far from popular or instantly acceptable, whether we apply it to pre-WWII Italy or the present day. The young boy, Luca, has the misfortune to lose his father, the fortune to gain a gaggle of fairy godmothers who inculcate the virtues of civility, humaneness, love of literature and art, tolerance of what's now called diversity (and might then have been called eccentricity), and above all, the notion of fidelity in love. As Thomas Mann (among others) recognized, the education of the artist requires the coaxing forth of the feminine side of oneself, whether one is male or female. The object (as in the case of the young man Wilfrid) is not to submerge one's masculinity, but to bring it into balance or alignment with the feminine virtues, for the highest, most fully human art must by definition be androgynous. All this is communicated with the lightest possible touch by Franco Zeffirelli, who acknowledges at the end that young Luca's story is based on his own.

Did the person who wrote the tagline actually see this movie? What goes on between Bergman and Byrnner is inconsequential. I can't imagine their reunion "in the green room," and neither could the film's editors, apparently, because the scene is left out. Instead, we have Hayes as the indomitable grandmother pronouncing the movie's last words. As several of your reviewers have commented, the recognition scene between the granddaughter and the grandmother is the emotional center and climax of the movie, which turns on Anastasia's search for her lost identity. When she finds it through her grandmother, that is (or ought to be) the end of the story. The script writers were held prisoner to the '50s' demand that every woman achieve her identity through her relationship with some man.

This seems to be William Holden week on AMC. Last night we saw "Sunset Blvd." and the night before, "The Country Girl." I was struck by the fact that, at the end of "The Country Girl," Grace Kelly (b. 1929) returns to Bing Crosby (b. 1901) & everybody (presumably) cheers her fidelity. While midway thru "Sunset Blvd.," Wm. Holden (b. 1918) forces himself to get in bed with Gloria Swanson (b. 1899 or 1897, depending on whether you believe IMDb or Roger Ebert). So Swanson is an old hag, while Crosby is still a reasonably attractive guy. And the age gap is actually less between Holden & Swanson. Go figure, but to me it looks like the double standard in action. The question is: Have we improved since the '50s in our attitude towards this sort of situation?