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Reviews
Yes, Dear (2000)
If "Bad" Were "GDP", This Show Would End the Global Recession
Given a choice between this abysmal sitcom and wisdom teeth removal, my advice is: Take the oral surgery; the suffering during both is about equal, but the dentist gives you GREAT drugs after he's done. All "Yes, Dear" gives you afterward is nausea, and the sick feeling that your IQ has dropped 35 points.
The premise was unoriginal-- no surprise, we're talking TV here--: Two couples related by marriage, one led by a fussy tight-ass, the other led by a slob. The wives are the source of normality, the slob gets the tight-ass involved in multiple madcap situations, and hilarity is supposed to ensue. But with "Yes, Dear", the hilarity never ensues. The cast has the electric chemistry of sand mixed with dirty water, and the comic timing of the Nuremberg Trials. And let's face it: Mike O'Malley's name on any project is a guarantee that it will be punishingly bad.
The high caliber of the guest actors that got roped into this abortion of a sitcom (Tim Conway, Vicki Lawrence, Beth Grant and others) is shocking, given the horrible writing, clumsy direction and appalling level of acting from the regulars. The only participant that seemed to enjoy this train wreck was the hyperactive laugh-track machine, which would bust a chip over the lamest one-liner (and oh, there are so many lame one-liners in this show).
If this is showing on a channel you watch, change it as fast as you can. If someone gives you "Yes, Dear" DVDs, beat him or her about the face and head with the box, burn the DVDs and cross him or her off your Christmas card list. If this is showing in a Best Buy, run for the nearest exit. Anyone with an IQ above that of a houseplant will be racing you for the door.
Sideways (2004)
Exceptional Acting in an "Anti-Buddy Movie" Buddy Movie
The bad reviews on this site for "Sideways" seem almost willingly obtuse. One has to wonder if they unwittingly see unpleasant aspects of their own lives and personalities in the people on-screen...? Film, after all, isn't just a window into other people's lives; it is also a fun house mirror where, like it or not, people just like you and me are tested in some way. Bear in mind George Abbott's basic model of drama:
-- Act I: Get your character(s) in a tree. -- Act II: Throw rocks at the character(s). -- Act III: Get the character(s) down.
The title is ambiguous and rich with meaning, but the one that springs to mind for me is simply this: When storing wine for long periods of time (like Paul Giamatti's character hoarding that special bottle of 1961 Château Cheval Blanc), the bottle should be shelved on its side so the cork doesn't dry out. And of course, when you over-indulge, you end up-- Sideways.
The plot outline is simple: Take one clinically-depressed divorcé writer (Paul Giamatti) with a dead-end job as an English professor and an unattractive drinking habit (is there anything more pathetic than a wine drunk?!). Add a slightly underemployed, very oversexed TV/commercial actor with matinée looks beginning to over-ripen (Thomas Haden Church) whose own wedding is a week away. Mix in a late-model Saab convertible heading to a guys' weekend up in the California Central Coast, a handy motel and a map to the area wineries. Add a deliciously ripe local waitress with a well-developed palate for wine and a fondness for the writer (Virginia Madsen). Season confidently with one spicy wine pourer/good-time gal (Sandra Oh). Add wine. Liberally. Heat up with sex, betrayals, breakdowns, epiphanies, a lethal motorcycle helmet, a lost wedding ring and-- oh yeah-- one Fat Naked Guy. Savor with a nice bottle of Pinot Noir.
Yeah, the characters may not be likable, but they're real. The humor isn't laugh-out-loud hilarity; you watch it and chuckle at these poor foolish people and, in the back of your mind, you see just a little bit of yourself in their motivations, their weaknesses, their aspirations and their comeuppances.
The movie is well-directed and well-edited from a subtle, wise screenplay, but it would not have worked without the extraordinary chemistry of its four main actors. Giamatti, Haden Church, Madsen and Oh never hit a false note. "Sideways" isn't "Animal House"-- it strives for truth instead of belly laughs, and it delivers beautifully.
The Andromeda Strain (1971)
Dated But Gripping
Robert Wise's adaptation of the Michael Crichton technological potboiler certainly reflects the technological and special effect limitations of the early 1970s, but the datedness of the production doesn't take away from its carefully-built mood of unease. Technology unwittingly unleashes a monster upon mankind-- and we actually went seeking such a monster; the horror hits when we can't control it, and the terror sets in as the clock ticks on and no one can (seemingly) find a way to neutralize it. The odd coincidences that prevent quicker resolution of the threat (the paper shred in the bell on the TeleType machine, Ruth Leavitt's convenient petit mal trance while testing the microbe) do seem a bit artificial, but these nagging problems pale in the face of the exquisite tension building during the film. The calculated coolness of the production heightens the mood, I think.
The cast does great work, especially the weary voice of reason of David Wayne and the fierce, Thelma Ritter-like comic relief supplied by Kate Reid ("I never liked red lights. They remind me of my years in the bordello."). Paula Kelly, in a smallish role as nurse/patient care technician, also scores points as a human presence among all the technology. And give the movie its props for being prescient (years before AIDS and Ebola would remind us of how powerless we ultimately are against nature)! I highly recommend it.
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)
Still powerful, harrowing view of the "Anti-Ozzie and Harriet"
This is still an exceptional film from the 1960s. Though some of the epithets are obviously softening much stronger words, the language is frank and brutal, Martha's bludgeoning body-blows balanced by George's icepick thrusts. Edward Lehman's respectful screenplay gently opens up Edward Albee's one-set play while keeping a certain claustrophobic atmosphere. Mike Nichols' first directing effort is stunning in its lack of artifice; rarely do you feel that the director has done much more than turn on the camera and watch four actors, all at the top of their game, tear into their roles. George Segal's work in this movie is criminally underrated, but his reactive work as studly, ultimately disappointing Nick should be mandatory study by all young actors. Sandy Dennis' fluttery turn as mousy, wifey Honey is powerful also; a lot more is going on than you might think. Richard Burton is staggering as George ("Georgie Porgie Put-upon Pie"), and his performance demonstrates the magic that he could bring to a worthy role. Elizabeth Taylor's work here still astounds. The physical transformation she undertook to become aging harpy Martha is amazing enough, but her performance seems to channel a hurricane's force and fury. By turns hilarious, maddening and then, at the end, exhausted and defeated yet again, Taylor demonstrates acting, particularly film acting, at its best. The film is by no means easy or "Hollywood" in feel-- the audience is as exhausted as the characters at the end. But this was a bracing, necessary antidote to the impossible ideal of marriage usually portrayed in the movies. A towering film.