Coming Attractions (1996-97)

Explanations on the 1998-99 ratings page ; though, needless to say, I expect this to be just a collection of mini-reviews before too long (there can't be that many 1996-97 movies left to go).

1997

• GUMMO (V) (66)

• EVE'S BAYOU (V) (44) ["The summer I killed my father I was ten years old," begins this much-praised drama ; if it were a book, you'd probably zip through the first chapter on the strength of that line alone. Unfortunately - despite the praise - if it were a book it'd probably be one of those well-meaning tomes that result when bored housewives (and, no doubt, househusbands) take one too many Creative Writing courses : highlights (the story-in- a-mirror sequence probably as close to Angelopoulos as the American commercial cinema's ever going to come) outnumbered by clichés and tin-eared bits of dialogue ("When I was your age I was just like you, I thought I knew everything"). Pleasing but mostly secondhand - and such a nice little film, with its tinkling score and placid images, that the lurid goings-on in the latter stages (black magic, child abuse) seem to have been grafted on by evil-minded hackers. Young Jurnee Smollett has a touch too much big-city sass to convince, and Debbi Morgan's performance is scuppered by a succession of distractingly bad hairdos - she looks like she's got a human brain perched atop her head ; Sam Jackson's charisma shines through, though.]

• DREAM WITH THE FISHES (54) [Kids - don't neglect your websites! I saw this two months ago, but am only now trying to review it - only to find that I can't remember a thing about it! All I can offer are the notes I scribbled down during the screening, presented 'au naturel' since I have no idea what they might be referring to ; viz... "blues, oranges" ... "high-contrast [lighting, presumably]" ... "keeper of the souls of the fishes" ... "over-exposed images" ... "tattooed breasts" ... "birds crapping on unlucky guy" ... "David Arquette - panoply of sickly smiles, + occasional genuine ones like the sun coming out" ... "Squirrel Nut Zippers" ... "The Waterboys over aquarium scene" ... "eye-patch - a CUTTER'S WAY moment!" ... "urban to rural" ... "wacky over maudlin" ... "found God in a bathtub" ... "eating cordon bleu" ... "seven dwarves' names" ... "funny inversions of familiar situations" ... "nude bowling" ... "acid-trip jokes (incl. stoned cop)" ... "painting with menstrual blood" ... Sounds pretty good, doesn't it? Very, um, memorable. Maybe I should check it out...]

• THE HOUSE OF YES (V) (48) ["Don't be so sincere, it's déclassé," advises our heroine - but really, is this arch, brittle, self-consciously phony tone that much classier? Bit of a bitch-fest, basically, energised by Parker Posey's all-stops-out performance, acid-tongued and flamboyantly bonkers : she whips the one-liners along with such pizazz - "Been a long day" / "Not as long as yesterday, yesterday was 24 hours" - you barely notice they're a variation on the smart-alecky 'tude in Gen-X sitcoms. Tries, I suppose, for a sub-Faulkner vibe (once-grand family, now imploding), with a dash of LES ENFANTS TERRIBLES - only played primarily for laughs, sometimes veering close to camp and tricked out with modish accoutrements (what else can you call the pointless JFK-assassination sub-plot?). Talky, mannered, claustrophobic ; "based on a stage play," say the credits - to which the only possible response is "No, really?".]

• FOR ROSEANNA (V) (42) [Better, or at least more enjoyable, than the rating would suggest - it's just that it dilutes its pleasantly macabre farce with too much 'quirky' comedy, ENGLISHMAN WHO WENT UP A HILL-style (a case about a dog in the village courtroom, stuff like that) ; one would also include the picture of gesticulating, garlic-loving Italians ("you can never put too much garlic in anything"), except that it sets up a perfectly-weighted final gag. Originally titled ROSEANNA'S GRAVE, which is actually more appropriate : the reference to Death may have been seen as an audience turn-off, but it's actually why this flimsy concoction occasionally works.]

• ROMY AND MICHELE'S HIGH SCHOOL REUNION (V) (39) [Janeane Garofalo playing abrasive, gloriously. Lisa Kudrow's hand-flapping-with-excitement schtick as she squeals agreement ("God, I hate barfing in public." "Me too!"). Mucho bimbo gags and airhead humour. But also : Alan Cumming playing nerdy, embarrassingly. The longest, most bathetic dream sequence this side of Scorsese's LAST TEMPTATION. A be-yourself message rammed down our throats as the film tries to celebrate its heroines instead of mocking them - or maybe as well as mocking them ; or maybe not, who can tell? God, I hate a film that can't make up its mind. Me too!]

• OSCAR AND LUCINDA (45) [Fine performances, mediocre movie - mostly because these remain stubbornly literary characters, defined by mannerism and recurring motif, surrounded by artifice and archness ("The sea, from then on, would always smell of Death to Oscar") ; you can't control things so rigidly in movies - we appreciate the quote from Pascal, but we're equally likely to note the self-righteous father's unfortunate resemblance to Michael Palin in a Monty Python sketch. That said, it fails most miserably at its least literary - the gritty, grisly expedition, expanded from the book (where it only took up 50 pages out of 500) to an entire third act, only an incongruous and unpleasant one. Not good.]

• THE TANGO LESSON (48) [Lessons in relationships as well as dance ; a film about itself, starring its director as herself, though the dreamlike 180-degree pans in the tango scenes are worth any number of post-modern constructs. Intermittently beguiling, with a nice sense of incidental detail (three identically-bearded Spaniards standing next to each other, the desolate beauty in a field of abandoned chairs), but neither of the leads is unfortunately very likeable - he a poseurish narcissist (even his tango looks florid, over-busy), she a sallow, moon-faced presence who seems to suck energy out of every image. And it does go on a bit.]

• TELLING LIES IN AMERICA (V) (29) [Wow! Joe Eszterhas' youth was exactly like a Joe Eszterhas movie! I mean, what are the odds? Here, in this purported autobiography, are the flat dialogue scenes and mouldy situations (our hero hides in the confessional - and pretends to be the priest!) ; here's the heavy moralism about the evils of lying, followed by a typically glib suggestion that America is based on lies anyway. Kevin Bacon's sharp, take-no-prisoners performance is the sole reason to see it, though there is one honest moment : "You really want to be a writer?" teenage Joe is asked ; "I want to be something, that's for sure!" he replies.]

• THE WINTER GUEST (V) (43) [The screech of seagulls. A stretch of deserted beach off the coast of Scotland. A snow-encrusted village. A small lighthouse at the end of a lonely pier. Black-and-white photos of a dead husband. The matching cheekbones of Emma Thompson and her real-life mother Phyllida Law ("You've always had good bone structure," says Phyl to Em ; "you get that from me") as they talk their way round a "difficult" relationship. Ah, but who is the Winter Guest? Is it Death? Memory? Or merely Ingmar Bergman? Unusual little film, fairly memorable if only for the unrelenting greyness of its location ; dialogue doesn't match atmosphere, though - and at least one of the four intertwining stories is so much dead space. A couple of schoolboys talking about the size of their willies steal the show.]

• EXCESS BAGGAGE (V) (9) [Imagine Brando's Stanley Kowalski (or Nicholson's Charley Partanna, from PRIZZI'S HONOR) lumbering through IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT and you'll have a rough idea of Benicio Del Toro's insanely misguided performance in this first-class dud - though he probably felt he was cutting his losses, given a script riddled with holes (don't garages have telephones?) and an MTV director who only comes alive when the warehouse explodes in a (very impressive) fireball. "How stupid do you think I am?" he protests indignantly ; "How stupid is there?" retorts Alicia Silverstone's profoundly irritating rich-bitch. Do you really need this film in your life? Note the title.]

• CAREER GIRLS (62) [The last 20 minutes wreck this hysterical, remarkable movie, featuring Leigh's love of the grotesque (the sadistic yuppie in NAKED, the hideous restaurant in LIFE IS SWEET) at its most untrammelled, plus a no-holds-barred performance by Katrin Cartlidge that has to be seen to be believed. The exaggerated comedy does in fact evoke the awkward, half-formed quality of student life, even if the people onscreen seem, frankly, psychotic - but we didn't need to be told, as the final act insists, that they act outrageously because they're (yes) insecure. Abrasive caricature turns to pop-psychology, with a hug at the end ; too strange and vivid to laugh at, too cruelly funny not to - even if it's equal parts funny peculiar and funny ha-ha.]

• MRS BROWN (54) [The Diana-fication of the monarchy - and Britain in general - continues apace in this tale of a remote, introspective Queen mired in ritual and tradition, loosened up by an unabashedly demotic subject speaking from the heart ("All I did was tell the woman how I feel!"). The People's Princess would've approved, especially when Brown clobbers the Queen's paparazzi, but others may detect an overbearing edge to its undoubted delicacy, and perhaps a shot too many of pompous advisers looking thwarted and unhappy. Subtle performances and literate dialogue (Masterpiece Theatre is one of the production companies) plus an odd obsession with Scotland, "land of Calvin and oatcakes" ("Ecosse Films" is the other) ; nicely done, but a little suspect - and surely it was unnecessary to justify Brown's slide into paranoia with an actual assassination attempt.]

• PRISONER OF THE MOUNTAINS (V) (71)
• IN THE COMPANY OF MEN (77)

1996

• SALAAM CINEMA (V) (77)

• MAD DOG TIME (V) (13) [The germ of an interesting idea - a movie structured like a poker game, with regular shoot-outs approximating the rhythm of hands being "called" (and, of course, players gradually dropping out) ; alas, the execution is witless, more concerned with celebrity cameos (Billy Idol, Rob Reiner, Richard Pryor) and primitive wordplay ("Vic is sick, Mick ; Vic is a sick prick, Mick") than plotting or character. The plot - not to mention the various renditions of "My Way" - recalls the Rat Pack's ROBIN AND THE SEVEN HOODS ; but the result is closer to a smug, mean-spirited version of THE QUICK AND THE DEAD.]