UPCOMING REVIEWS FOR THE WEEK OF 11/1/10 - 11/7/10

Hello, folks... here's next week's list of film reviews. It's another Jelly Bean Grab Bag of random flavors and genres.

As soon as the last of the Serial Killer flick reviews post by Tuesday morning, we'll be caught up. Because I'll be on the road again this week, please expect next week's reviews to post as time allows.

Thanks, folks... and Happy Halloween!

Here's the list:

# 142 - BLACK RAIN: 1989 (AKA: Michael Douglas Proves The Crazy American Overseas Is Alive And Well)

# 143 - HALF NELSON: 2006 (AKA: My Teacher Has A Drug Habit And I Don't Care! My Teacher Has A Drug Habit And I Don't Care!)

# 144 - DEEP BLUE SEA: 1999 (AKA: Just An Excuse To Put Some Hot Guys And Gals In Tight-Fitting Wetsuits. I Am. So There.)

# 145 - THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA: 2006 (AKA: I Don't Wear Prada. I Wear Calvin Klein By Way Of Ross. Get It Right. That Is All.)

# 146 - KISS BANG KISS BANG: 2005 (AKA: A Gay Sleuth And His Straight Buddy Bicker And Argue For Two Hours. Why Does This Seem Familiar? Ahem.)

# 147 - WAKING LIFE: 2001 (AKA: Oh. My. God. I. Love. This. Movie...)

# 148 - PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 2: 2010 (AKA: SLIVER, but with ghosts and poltergeists.)

And now, for a taste of hot asses in wetsuits, specifically Saffron Burrows and Thomas Jane:



Lucky sharks... they get to chomp on some fine-ass booty...

And allow me to introduce you to the newest addition to my list of TOP FIVE FAVORITE MOVIES:



Yup. That Clark Kent sure knows how to pick 'em.

Have a great week! I'll be thinking of y'all in Sin City and the City of Angels!

REVIEW UPDATE: SEVEN, KISS THE GIRLS, & TAKING LIVES

Hello, folks...

Hope everyone's having a great All Hallow's Eve (Halloween, to us Philistines). It's been an eventful weekend, and I'm not one to pat myself on the back, but I'm kind of proud of the fact that I was able to knock out four of the Serial Killer reviews while on the road.

With that in mind, please expect the last three reviews to post by Tuesday morning. They are:

# 139 - SEVEN

# 140 - KISS THE GIRLS

# 141 - TAKING LIVES


Also, please note that I'm turning right around and going out of town again on Tuesday afternoon. So please expect to see next week's reviews post intermittently throughout the week, as time allows.

Next week's review theme will be another Jelly-Bean Grab-Bag week. Yup, all kinds of movies, all kinds of genres. Most of them recommendations. Thanks, folks!

Next week's list of reviews to post shortly...

Trick or Treat! Or is that Treat or Treat?

# 138 - JENNIFER EIGHT (1992)

JENNIFER EIGHT (1992 - ROMANCE/SERIAL KILLER THRILLER) **** out of *****

(Nice to know that even in cow country a woman still has to carry mace around all the time. Especially if she‘s blind. )



CAST: Andy Garcia, Uma Thurman, John Malkovich, Lance Henricksen, Kathy Baker, Graham Beckel, Nicholas Love, Perry Lang, Lenny Von Dohlen.

DIRECTOR: Bruce Robinson

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and a forbidden romance between a cop and a blind murder witness - straight ahead…




With the release and smash success of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS in 1991, it was only logical that all the other studios would trot out their own Serial Killer extravaganzas. JENNIFER EIGHT was one of the first to roll down the pike. It didn’t make much of a splash at the box-office, despite a gripping trailer and a very intriguing poster (see above). The main reason for JENNIFER EIGHT’s box-office misfire is easy to posit: people were expecting another SILENCE, and they didn’t get it.

This isn’t to say that JENNIFER EIGHT is a bad film; far from it, in fact. This film is both old-fashioned and ahead of its time. Old-fashioned, in the sense that it takes its time to develop its characters and their relationships with one another, and refuses to place second the central relationship between its leads. And ahead of its time, in terms of building a dark, rainy, brooding atmosphere filled with gloomy interiors and ominous exteriors - which would be recycled in future films like SEVEN and THE BONE COLLECTOR.

Bottom line: JENNIFER EIGHT is an underrated and overlooked gem that influenced the genre more than most people realize. It’s not a perfect film, although it comes very close until it reaches its third act. But more on that later….

The film starts with a shot of our hero, John Berlin (Andy Garcia), driving through the majestic redwoods of Northern California. Soon, he arrives at his destination: the sleepy town of Eureka. Seems John is a burnt-out L.A. cop who has finally decided to check out of life in the fast lane and join buddy and fellow ex-LAPD cop Freddie Ross (Lance Henricksen) up in the boonies where it’s quieter.

Freddie and his wife Margie (Kathy Baker) are overjoyed that John has moved to Eureka. They help him get his new farmhouse into decent shape. By the way, the farmhouse has a great view of… cows in the nearby pasture. Well, it beats seeing traffic on the 405 Freeway right outside your window, right? Anyhow, it looks like John’s going to finally be able to enjoy a slower pace both at work and at home.

Or maybe not.

See, the very first day that John arrives in town, one of the local cops discovers a severed hand in a local garbage dump. This leads to an all-night search of the dump to see if there any other body parts mixed in with the leftover Chinese food and old tires. With the exception of the body of a dead dog, there doesn’t appear to be any more unpleasant surprises. Not at the garbage dump anyway.

If you were hoping that John would downshift and get used to the slower pace of Eureka, well, let me just say the discovery of the severed hand - which appears to be from a woman - pretty much puts the kibosh on that possibility. John Berlin is one of those driven types that doesn’t stop until he gets to the bottom of a mystery. Must be a Scorpio. In this particular case, it’s The Mystery of the Severed Hand at the Dump Site that John wants to unravel.

Furthermore, John learns of a grisly murder from a couple of years ago in which the female victim was left headless and handless. Her identity was never confirmed - and therefore was coded “Jennifer.” And to make matters more interesting, John does a database search and discovers six other blind women who have gone missing across California in the last several years. In other words, there’s possibly a serial killer on the loose who targets blind women - and the hand found at the dump site just might be “Jennifer Eight.”

After examining the hand’s fingertips, John notices the heavy calluses and soon after deduces that the victim got them from reading Braille. In other words, she was blind. Scouring a list of blind people in the area who have not been heard from, John and Freddy zero in on one Amber Stone, a blind girl who has not been heard from in six weeks. No one thinks that she’d dead, though - just relocated to San Diego (and who can blame her) and hasn’t written yet. John, however, strongly suspects that Amber has become “Jennifer Eight.”

John questions Amber’s roommate who is also blind: Helena Robertson (Uma Thurman). Seems Helena was there when Amber’s boyfriend came to pick her up. John thinks that this “boyfriend” just might be the killer he’s looking for. Despite her blindness, Helena is still able to tell him some helpful things: (1) this mysterious guy who picked up Amber was a smoker; (2) drove a car that sounded “fat”; and (3) his name is also “John.”

Given that “John” is the most common name in the English language, and is also the moniker of our hero, how many of you want to guess that this is a significant plot twist? Ahem.

At any rate, John’s investigation into the “Jennifer” cases gets him in hot water with his new co-workers, who see him as some flashy big-city dude who’s cooking up a serial-killer investigation out of nothing. Needless to say, none of them believe that there’s a mad psycho on the loose preying on blind women. Not even Freddie, apparently. Which is very disappointing to John because it means he has absolutely no supporters on the police force.

He does, however, have at least one in Helena, with whom he has gotten close to. As you can imagine, a detective carrying on an affair with a woman who is essentially an eyewitness (despite being blind) in one of his cases is not exactly the least controversial of relationships. Helena’s belief in the existence of a serial killer might also have something to do with the fact that, I don’t know, he actually broke into her house and threatened her to shut up… or else. Of course, no one believes her either.

How will John track the killer down when no one believes any crimes have been committed? Will Helena end up becoming “Jennifer Nine?” Will Freddie come around and support John in his quest to prove the shadowy killer’s presence in Eureka? Or will he continue to side against John with the rest of the choads of the Eureka police department? Will Helena provide a vital clue that will lead to the discovery of the killer’s identity? Why is the killer preying on blind women? Does he have some sort of fetish? Like someone who goes gooey all over at the sight of a Roman Gladiator outfit and a hairy chest? Ahem?

See for yourselves. Just don’t be surprised if you end up asking to be blindfolded and tickled with a feather after you see this movie. Someone once told me that blind people are the best lovers. Or at least, blind-folded people. I’m just saying…


BUT, SERIOUSLY: As I wrote in the intro, JENNIFER EIGHT is old-fashioned in the sense that it puts the characters before the mystery. In fact, the mystery springs from the character’s actions and reactions. This is perhaps why the film didn’t find a wider audience when it was released in 1992. People must have wanted something as fast-paced as THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS.

And, as I also wrote in the intro, this movie is way ahead of its time with its dark and moody atmosphere and gradual build of tension, paving the way for the dark tones of SEVEN, THE BONE COLLECTOR, and even the TV series of THE X-FILES.

Perhaps audiences who were expecting a more fast-paced thriller in the vein of SILENCE were probably surprised by JENNIFER EIGHTS’s deliberate and ominous pace which bathed everything in a brooding aura of fear. Like SILENCE, though, this film has some very interesting characters that give the narrative significantly more weight than it might have had.

JENNIFER EIGHT reportedly had a troubled production. According to some quarters, there was conflict between writer/director Bruce Robinson and the studio concerning the script. Not sure exactly what the issues were, but I do know that there was concern about the ending. My understanding is that Robinson’s original ending didn’t fare well with the powers-that-be, and was changed to the one that exists now.

I’m not going to spoil the new ending for you, except to say that while serviceable and decent - it’s also a bit abrupt. Especially considering the mystery’s careful build-up all the way through the first, second, and much of the third-act. If Robinson would have drawn-out the ending just a bit more to fill in some holes, the film would rate almost as high as THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS.

Like I mentioned before, the film focuses on its characters as the mystery unfolds. Which is a good thing, since they are an interesting bunch. John Berlin is an appealing hero. He’s clearly the type of guy who’s drive is both his talent and his curse, pushing him to go after his goal to the point of sometimes alienating those around him. A lesser actor might’ve toned down John’s rough edges and intensity, but Andy Garcia wisely avoids neutering the character in this way. He also ably displays John’s bruised interior and his desire for some sort of redemption by pursuing a relationship with the good-hearted Helena. Their relationship is surprisingly touching - and becomes JENNIFER EIGHT’s beating heart, acting as a ray of light through all the darkness.

Speaking of Helena, Uma Thurman creates a truly memorable character, too. Unlike a lot of heroines whose vulnerabilities are hidden under tough exteriors, Helena Robertson is the reverse: she hides her resilience and resourcefulness beneath a fragile veneer. Even when she’s sitting still and just staring off into space, she’s compelling to watch. Much of that has to do with Thurman’s innate expressiveness. Playing a blind woman, she has to deaden her eyes (usually an actor’s best weapon) and rely on the rest of her face, body language, and voice to convey Helena’s confusion, terror, courage, and love for John. The fact that she pulls this off so wonderfully and makes Helena such a strong presence in the film when a lesser actress could’ve inadvertently condemned her to the background, is a testament to Ms. Thurman’s talents.

The supporting cast is similarly assigned to vivid roles. John Malkovich enters the film as FBI Special Agent St. Anne, who also doesn’t believe that a serial killer exists. Malkovich makes the most of his small role and gives St. Anne a sardonic bite that makes his exchanges with Garcia as John a delight to watch. Lance Henricksen is funny and magnetic as John’s best friend, Freddie, who disbelieves his friend’s suspicions - but then slowly comes around and imperils his life to help John. Kathy Baker is also great as Margie, Freddie’s wife, who is a lot like Helena in the sense that her easy-going and gentle exterior conceals a core of steel that comes out when the chips are down. Her role in the film’s climax is a very pleasant surprise, making JENNIFER EIGHT a nice showcase for two complex and strong female characters.

As John’s disbelieving and disrespectful colleagues, Nicholas Love, Graham Beckel, Kevin Conaway, and Perry Lang are all strong and succeed in getting us to believe in the unfairly hostile environment that our hero suddenly finds himself in. Which makes us sympathize with him even more. This just makes John’s vindication in the end all the more satisfying and deserved.

All in all, JENNIFER EIGHT is a very good thriller that was misunderstood at its time of release. Make no mistake, though, despite exhibiting some classic storytelling elements focused on character, it was also way ahead of its time in creating an ominous and bleak atmosphere. Something that future films would emulate and pass of as their own. They all a debt of gratitude to this movie.

# 137 - HANNIBAL (2001)

HANNIBAL (2001 - SERIAL KILLER FLICK) **** out of *****

(Oh, Hannibal my Hannibal, wherefore are thou my Hannibal? Probably out there gnoshing on someone's head with some horseradish sauce on the side.)



CAST: Anthony Hopkins, Julianne Moore, Ray Liotta, Gary Oldman, Giancarlo Giannini, Frankie Faison, Francesca Neri, Zeljko Ivanek, Hazelle Goodman.

DIRECTOR: Ridley Scott

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and rather grotesque love stories straight ahead...



LECTER: Would you ever dream of saying: "Stop. If you love me, you'll stop."

CLARICE: Not in a thousand years.

LECTER: (almost proud) Not in a thousand years? That's my girl...

- Scene from HANNIBAL


With the stunning success of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS in the early 90's - including Academy Awards for Best Actor, Actress, Picture, Picture and Director - it was pretty much a given that a sequel would eventually come along. Stars Anthony Hopkins and Jodie Foster seemed amenable to reprising their Oscar-sealed roles as Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the brilliant but psychotic serial killer/psychiatrist, and Clarice Starling, the FBI trainee-turned-agent that catches his fancy. It was just a matter of novelist Thomas Harris writing the follow-up novel to SILENCE.

In the late 90's, Harris finally delivered. Titled simply as "Hannibal," the novel immediately rose to the top of the international bestseller lists. This doesn't mean, though, that the novel was embraced as warmly as its predecessor. Far from it. In fact, "Hannibal" sharply divided readers. Those expecting a fast, linear thriller in the vein of SILENCE were disappointed by the new novel's multi-threaded plot that spanned two continents and several subplots.

The biggest bone of contention, however, was "Hannibal's" ending. If you haven't read the book, I won't spoil it for you. If you have, then you know what I'm talking about. Requiring a gargantuan suspension of disbelief, the ending isn't exactly terrible. Just... very odd and different. Now, "odd" and "different" are normally okay in my book. Unfortunately, the ending is also illogical - requiring us to accept that Clarice Starling would change her value system so radically that she would actually.... well, like I said, I won't spoil it. Let's just say that, while I find the ending intriguing, I ultimately don't agree with it because it negates all the character groundwork established in the first novel.

Evidently, Jodie Foster felt the same way. She despised the ending with a capital "D." Like a lot of readers including myself, she couldn't accept that Clarice would do what the novel showed her doing at the end. When adapting the novel for the silver screen, several top-flight screenwriters including Steve Zaillian and David Mamet set about changing the book's ending to something more acceptable. Even with that, though, Foster still eventually dropped out of the production. Faced with the loss of it's Academy-Award winning star who'd cemented the character of Clarice Starling in the minds millions of audience members, the producers scrambled to find a suitable replacement.

Names like Angelina Jolie, Helen Hunt, Cate Blanchett, Hilary Swank, Gillian Anderson and others were bandied about. Eventually, they settled on actress Julianne Moore. Moore was the perfect caliber of actress the part needed, having amassed an impressive body of work to attest to her talent but still managing to avoid being tabloid fodder. In other words, she was cut from the same cloth as Jodie Foster, which is what the role of Clarice Starling needed. With this vital role filled, production moved forward.

HANNIBAL is set 10 years after the events of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. Hannibal Lecter is still at large, and Clarice Starling is now a world-weary agent whose current assignment is leading the DEA and DCPD for a raid on Evelda Drumgo (Hazelle Goodman), a drug dealer that Clarice has busted before. During a pre-raid briefing, Clarice exerts her authority over the operation. When a cocky dipshit of DCPD detective tries to prove how big his dick is by patronizing Clarice, she basically verbally castrates him right then and there. Clearly, Clarice hasn't lost her toughness. Go, girl.

Unfortunately, the raid goes south in a very big way - in a Titanic-big way. Clarice sees that Evelda - that sneaky bitch - has brought her infant with her to work that day. Not wanting a kid caught in the crossfire, Clarice orders everyone to stand down.

Unfortunately, the DCPD dick (in more ways than one) that she humiliated earlier wants to save face and opens fire on Evelda's people anyway. This leads to such a cluster-fuck of stellar proportions that Clarice ends up being blamed for it all - despite having clearly behaved above reproach. Meanwhile, the DCPD dick probably got a promotion or something. How's that for fairness?

Fortunately, Clarice has a patron saint in one Mason Verger (Gary Oldman). The scion of a powerful meat-packing dynasty, Verger also just happens to be Hannibal Lecter's only surviving victim. See, Lecter was Verger's court-appointed psychiatrist in the wake of the latter's conviction for being, well, a disgusting slimeball towards minors. Lecter, clearly realizing that a world without Mason would be a better one, got him all doped up on hallucinogenics - convinced him to: (1) hang himself while jerking off; (2) peel his face off with a shard of glass; then (3) feed it to the dogs.

Well, Lecter's joke on Verger apparently left the latter: (1) paralyzed; (2) ugly as sin; (3) and mad as hell - at the not-so-good doctor. Basically, Verger has declared a bounty of $3 million for anyone who can provide information on Lecter's capture. Also, Verger thinks that by requesting Clarice be re-assigned to the Hannibal Lecter case, the not-so-good doctor may try to initiate contact - and possibly give away his hiding place.

In other words, Clarice is now Verger's pawn in his game of "Hunt Down and Kill Hannibal Lecter." Clarice doesn't have much say in this because her FBI bosses pretty much bow down and comply with Verger - who's very politically-connected. In other words, they're all his bitches. Especially mega-asshole Paul Krendler (Ray Liotta), who would probably go down on Verger if he asked him to. Yuck. Clarice, being the pragmatic Lutheran that she is, realizes things could be worse than being assigned to a celebrated case - and gets busy.

Well, right now you're probably thinking, "The fucking movie is called HANNIBAL. Where the fuck is he?" Thank you, kind reader, for asking. See, Dr. Hannibal Lecter and I have something in common: a deep and abiding love for Italy and all things Italian. Recall that his cell in SILENCE were papered with sketches of the Duomo in Florence. Three guesses as to where the not-so-good doctor has absconded to. First two definitely don't count.

If you answered, "Why... Florence, of course!" then clearly you are the smartest one in your circle of friends. Yes, Dr. Lecter is now living in lovely Firenze under the alias of "Dr. Fell," and is apparently in charge of the prestigious Caponni library. The previous curator went missing - AHEM - not too long ago and "Dr. Fell" was gracious enough to step in to replace him. How generous of him. And how fucking convenient.

Anyhow, the disappearance of Lecter's predecessor is what causes Inspector Rinaldo Pazzi (Giancarlo Giannini) to come snooping around the Capponi library to see what's what. Needless to say, Pazzi gradually grows suspicious of Lecter and begins to tail him around Florence. During one of these stalking sessions, Pazzi notices that Lecter always wipes his fingerprints off restaurant utensils and glasses that he uses. How very, very odd. Hmmmmmmmmm....

Meanwhile, Clarice has received a letter from Lecter that reads like World's Kinkiest Love Letter. Noticing that the paper has a fragrant scent, Clarice cannily enlists the aid of perfume experts who tell her that the bouquet was engineered specifically using a rare ingredient - which is basically whale vomit. How whale vomit can be used for making perfume I live up to you guys to figure out. Anyway, only a few places in the world, apparently, use this rare ingredient. They're located in London, Tokyo, Paris.... and Florence.

DUN-DA-DUN-DUN!

Over in Belle Italia, Pazzi is growing increasingly sure that "Fell" is actually Lecter. Noticing an ad on the internet for a reward for Lecter's capture, Pazzi contact's Mason Verger's people and begins to cut a deal with the devil - or at least someone who looks just like him. Why is Pazzi doing this, you ask? Why doesn't he just tell his own people at the Firenze questura about Lecter? Won't he get some sort of recognition for being the detective that caught Lecter?

Well, evidenly, Pazzi feels that the $3 million that Verger will pay him in exchange for Lecter's capture is recognition enough. Besides, he also has a young wife, Allegra (Francesca Neri), whom he has to keep happy with trips to the opera, expensive gifts, and vacations in New England. Sadly, Pazzi grossly underestimates his adversary, because Lecter is the quickest of quick studies... and is at least ten steps ahead of Pazzi.

So... Will Pazzi succeed in nabbing Lecter? Or will Lecter enjoy, ahem, a Florentine meal of Spaghetti A la Pazzi? Will Clarice trace Lecter's whereabouts in time to save Pazzi from himself? Will Lecter return to the States to initiate contact with Clarice? What is Lecter's master plan? Will Krendler be part of it? Or will he end up a meal for Lecter? What about Allegra? Will Lecter consider trading Clarice in for her? I mean, come one: Allegra's a hot Italian babe. I sure as hell would. See below:






BUT, SERIOUSLY: If there was ever a film that had huge shoes to fill, it was HANNIBAL. As the follow-up to a much-loved (and much-feared) suspense classic like THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, it was always going to be an uphill battle. Fair praise should be given to Thomas Harris for producing a sequel that diverges from its predecessors more business-like tone, and going for something more European and surreal. With the exception of that infamous ending, there's really not much wrong with the book. Fortunately, screenwriter Steven Zaillian gives the film an alternate ending that is very satisfying - and leaves the door open for a sequel - should the producers and Harris decide to go that route.

Being partially set in Italy - the loveliest place on Earth - HANNIBAL has a very brooding and moodily atmospheric feel to it that SILENCE didn't have. While the first film had its own atmosphere that was often cast aside by its fast-moving plot, this film is slower-paced and very sensual. Slowly, one begins to realize that HANNIBAL wasn't meant to be a kinetic, race-against-time thriller like SILENCE, but instead a sort of dark love story between two people who can never be together. I think a lot of folks were disappointed with HANNIBAL because they were expecting another film SILENCE. But the two are as different as night and day.

Ridley Scott's direction underscores the dream-like atmosphere. This surreal feel is never more present than in the Florence scenes. Scott transforms the ancient city into a funhouse of shadows, mist, shapes, and moving bars of light. It would be difficult to portray Italy in any way less than ravishing, but Scott not only emphasizes Florence's beauty but also the darkness and foreboding that the casual eye easily misses. Constantly juxtaposing darkness with beauty in the same way that he's done will all of his films (ALIEN, BLADE RUNNER, SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME, BLACK RAIN, THELMA AND LOUISE), Scott turns HANNIBAL into something approaching a grisly fairy tale. Even the Stateside scenes have a moody, off-kilter quality the reminds one of a half-remembered dream.

The big question here is whether Julianne Moore measures up to Jodie Foster? Well, the short answer is "Yes." The complex answer is: "You can't really compare the two performances because each actress is playing Clarice Starling at a different chapter in her life." Foster's Starling was ambitious, driven, playful, intuitive, and full of the fire and confidence that one has when their life is still ahead of them. Moore, on the other hand, is portraying Clarice at a time in her life when she's started to become disillusioned with the FBI - with its ruthless politics and duplicitous superiors like Krendler. As a result, her portrayal of Starling is chillier, more detached and wary, and no longer starry-eyed. Moore, however, manages to still hint at a reservoir of softness and innocence, especially in her brief scenes with Frankie Faison as Barney, Lecter's old asylum attendant. In the end, it's better to gauge Moore's performance based on the character that she's playing now, instead of comparing it to Foster's ten years ago - which essayed the same person at a much more promising time in her life. In either case, Moore is terrific.

Anthony Hopkins delivers the same playful and lethal performance that he delivered in SILENCE, and all the unspoken stuff in that film are revealed more explicitly this time around. For example: (1) Verger wonders out loud if Lecter has a carnal interest in Clarice; (2) Lecter writes a letter to Clarice that seems to taunt her, but is really a letter of support in her time of need; (3) Allegra asking Lecter at the opera if he believes that a man can fall in love with a woman after just a brief encounter; (4) Lecter purchases designer evening shoes and a dress for Clarice; and (5) at the climax of the film, Lecter's exchange with Clarice while she's trapped in the kitchen with him, pretty much all spell out what's going on inside of him. Anthony Hopkins plays all of the character's level vividly. Just as he clicked with Foster, so, too, does Hopkins click with Moore.

As for the supporting cast, Ray Liotta is just the right blend of smarmy, sleazy, and oily as Krendler. Suffice it to say, he deserves his gory fate at Lecter's hands. Giancarlo Giannini is perfection as Inspector Pazzi, the decent cop whose desire to hold on to his wife pushes him to make some very dangerous decisions - which he ultimately pays for with his life. Frankie Faison makes a nice impression from the first film as Barney, and as I mentioned before his scenes with Moore as Clarice have a nice warmth to them.

Finally, in her small but fairly important role as Allegra - the woman for whom Pazzi takes the great risks that he does - Francesca Neri is absolutely dazzling. She only has a couple of scenes, but one of them forms the emotional heart of the film: when Allegra and Lecter discuss the opera they just saw. See below:

ALLEGRA: (reading from libretto) "Joyous love seemed to me, the while he held my heart in his hand. And in his arms, my lady lay asleep - wrapped in a veil."

LECTER: (quoting from memory) "He woke her then, and trembling and obedient, she ate that burning heart from his hand... Weeping, I saw him then depart from me..."

ALLEGRA: Doctor Fell, do you believe that a man can become so obsessed with a woman from a single encounter?

LECTER: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her? And get nourishment from the very sight of her? Yes, I think so. But... would she see through the bars of his plight - and ache for him?

This brief scene cuts right through the heart of the Lecter-Clarice conundrum with graceful and elegant efficiency. It is one of my Top Five Favorite Scenes of All Time, and its due largely to the lovely writing - and Hopkins and Neri's tender delivery. I'm glad that Ridley Scott and Steve Zaillian made the decision to soften the character of Allegra. In the book she was quite unysmpathetic and shrill - a woman who clearly only cared about money and not at all about her husband. You could care less whether or not Lecter killed her. In the film, Allegra is much more likable and clearly cares for Pazzi - and Francesca Neri makes her memorable.

All in all, HANNIBAL may not be the excellent film that THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS is. However, it is a very good film that is sadly misunderstood and unfairly maligned. If only people would forget about expecting it to be a thriller - and see if for the very dark romance that it is - then they would see what a gem this movie is.

# 136 - THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1990 - SERIAL KILLER THRILLER) ***** out of *****

(Fava beans, anyone?)



CAST: Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins, Scott Glenn, Anthony Heald, Kasi Lemmons, Diane Baker, Brooke Smith, Ted Levine.

DIRECTOR: Jonathan Demme

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and seriously questionable use of visiting hours - straight ahead




I remember the first time I saw THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS because it was the first time a whole tub of popcorn sat, barely-touched, on my lap. It's not because of the movie was gory (it is, but not overly so), or because I wasn't very hungry (I'm always hungry - ask anyone), but because the movie was just so suspenseful and exciting. I remember feeling like I was in the presence of greatness. And I was. If a movie can make me forget my food, then that, folks, is something quite remarkable.

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS practically created the Serial Killer genre as we know it today. Of course, that's considered by some to be a dubious distinction, at best, and a lamentable one, at worst. For better or worse, a plethora of similarly-plotted films soon followed. Some have been stellar in their own right (SEVEN, COPYCAT), others have been interesting or different enough to stand above the pack (TAKING LIVES, JENNIFER EIGHT, KISS THE GIRLS, HANNIBAL, MR. BROOKS), even more have been average or above-average (THE BONE COLLECTOR, THE CRIMSON RIVERS, RED DRAGON, THE CELL, HORSEMEN), and yet even more have been below-average and missable (STRIKING DISTANCE, SAW, SUSPECT ZERO, THE COLLECTOR, HIGHWAYMEN, GIALLO).

Bottom line? At its best, the Serial Killer genre has provided us with some razor-sharp thrills and pulse-pounding suspense. At its most average, it's given us some decent entertainment. At its worst, it's subjected us to hours of our lives we will never get back - and DVD rentals or - heaven forbid - purchases that might as well be used as coasters. Suffice it to say, THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS belongs in the first category: it is quite likely the best serial killer thriller ever made. And it has the Academy Awards to prove it.

The plot is elegance defined: an FBI Academy trainee (Jodie Foster) is recruited by one of her superiors (Scott Glenn) to solicit the help of institutionalized cannibalistic psychopath Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Sir Anthony Hopkins) in profiling a new serial killer named Buffalo Bill, who has been abducting women laterly in the Midwestern and Southern states - and skinning them. Hence the nickname.

The trainee is Clarice Starling, and she's a coolly confident chick. After rebuffing the rather alarming advances of Dr. Chilton (Anthony Heald), the institution's director, she is taken to Dr. Lecter's cell block where the following things happen: (1) an inmate tells her that he can smell her you-know-what; (2) Dr. Lecter calls her "tornado-bait white trash" before telling her to take a hike (ouch); and (3) the aforementioned inmate hurls a glob of cum right at her face.

In other words, not exactly the most positive first meeting in history.

Still, it's not a complete train wreck. Before Lecter told Clarice to vamoose, he also shared with her some juicy tidbits of information which, Clarice being the brilliant chick that she is, quickly deciphers to be a self-storage unit that belonged to one of Dr. Lecter's patients - that is, before said patient's lover decapitated him. And before the not-so-good doctor was revealed to be a people-eating carnivore.

Soon, through deductive reasoning that Sherlock Holmes would envy, Clarice figures out that whoever killed Dr. Lecter's patient is also Buffalo Bill. Lecter confirms this by saying that his patient was just Billy Boy's practice run at homicide. Presumably, he got better at it and stopped leaving the heads behind in self-storage units. He also tells Clarice that he can help her make a name for herself by providing insight into Buffalo Bill's pathology. In exchange for a cell with a view. How generous of our not-so-good doctor, eh?

Then another girl is abducted. She just happens to be Catherine Martin (Brooke Smith), daughter of Senator Ruth Martin (Diane Baker). As you can imagine, this sends the FBI and various other law enforcement agencies into a tizzy with a major case of the ass-puckers. I wonder if they would have hopped to it in the same way if Catherine had been the daughter of a greasy-spoon waitress. Methinks not.

Crawford sends Clarice back into the dungeons to offer Lecter a deal: help them catch Buffalo Bill in time to save Catherine's life, and they will relocate Lecter to more comfortable surroundings - to include an "annual vacation" on an island. Under SWAT team surveillance, naturally. For a minute there, I thought that the FBI was getting a little soft.

Will Lecter go for the deal? Will he help Clarice get to Buffalo Bill in time? Or will Catherine end up just like all the other victims? Does Lecter have an agenda of his own? Or does he really want to help Clarice? How can Clarice trust a psychopath? Will she survive this "deal with the devil?" Is Crawford being completely straight with Clarice? Or does he, too, have his own agenda? And most importantly: what the hell is up with Buffalo Bill and that home-made music video?

You'll see what I mean. And trust me - you will never listen to the song in question ever again without feeling the heebie-jeebies and laughing out loud - simulataneously.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: I remember reading the novel back in 1990 right before THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS came out in theaters. I finished the book in less than three hours. Thomas Harris crafted a visceral, elegant, and perfect thriller. Combining a psychological thriller with a "ticking-clock" element and two very interesting character studies, the novel was simply breathtaking. It's one of those stories that you just almost regret finishing because you know it will be awhile before another story as powerful and gripping comes along - if ever.

The film is a perfect cinematic realization of the book. Just like the novel, it is moves grimly and inexorably forward and gains momentum without sacrificing the delicate psychology that gave the plot a lot of depth. Clarice's background not only shapes her actions, but also informs her relationships with both Crawford and Lecter. Having lost her father when she was just a little girl, Clarice is essentially torn between two father figures - one good (Crawford) and the other evil (Lecter). The juxtaposing of these connections is mirrored by two scenes: (1) Lecter brushing Clarice's hand when he hands her the Buffalo Bill case in Memphis; and (2) Crawford similarly clasping Clarice's hand during the graduation at the finale.

It's the central relationship between Clarice and Lecter that gives the film it's punch, though. Clearly, Lecter is interested in Clarice. But what does he feel? Curiosity? Attraction? Exasperation? Love? Protectiveness? As the sequel HANNIBAL would confirm, it's all of the above - and maybe more. As with the most powerful cinematic couples, Clarice and Lecter's connection is made implicit rather than explicit. In the sequel, it would become more explicit (more on that in HANNIBAL's review). By making the conflict between Clarice and Lecter the primary thread, and not Buffalo Bill's murder spree, both the book and the film end up being more than just about a mad killer on the loose. It becomes about honor and courage, about a woman making a deal with the devil to save the life of another woman. And it's all beautifully played by Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins.

Foster very much deserved her Academy Award for Best Actress for this role. With Clarice Starling, she actually creates a full-blooded character, instead of just saying lines and hitting her marks. Clarice is simultaneously demure, tough, naive, worldly, courageous, scared, ambitious, and humble. But Foster makes all her contradictions seamless and fathomable. With just a few key tidbits revealed about her past, the character comes alive and becomes one of the strongest and most complex heroines to grace the silver screen.

Playing a more flamboyant and attention-grabbing role, Anthony Hopkins makes screen legend with his Academy Award-winning portrayal of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Evil has never been more seductive and terrifying onscreen. In Hopkins' hands, the character is unforgettable not just because of how frightening he is, but also how human he is at the most unexpected of times. It's Clarice that brings this out in him. While we know he doesn't really care whether or not Catherine lives, but is really interested in improving his confinement, we also sense that he is also helping Clarice because he somehow feels a kinship with her - and therefore cares for her.

And then there's the glimmer of tears in Lecter's eyes when Clarice finally breaks down and tells him the story of the screaming lambs - which is the trauma that pushes Clarice to save others. By revealing this deeply personal story that essentially leaves her at her most naked and vulnerable, Clarice achieves an intimacy with Lecter that is obviously unprecedented with anyone else. It doesn't matter that she does it to save Catherine. What's important is the reaction Lecter has to it: those tears pooling in his eyes as she finishes the story, and his words: "Thank you, Clarice. Thank you." If that's not a sign of humanity, I don't know what is.

While this movie belongs to Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins, kudos should also go to the supporting cast for their more-than-able assistance. Scott Glenn is cool, calm presence as Crawford. His scenes with Foster as Clarice radiate with paternal pride and affection. This is cemented by his comment at the end that her father would be proud of her.

Brooke Smith, Diane Baker, and Kasi Lemmons are all good as, respectively, the scared-then-steely Catherine, her terrified mother whose power is useless against a vicious killer, and Clarice's best friend at the Academy. These women are all strong and pivotal to the plot, and - along with the movie's remarkable heroine - help make up for the unpleasant fact that all of Buffalo Bill's victims are female.

Finally, there's Buffalo Bill himself. As played by Ted Levine, he is one of scariest villains to grace the silver screen. His pathology is both pathetic and terrifying at the same time. Not going to reveal it here, but suffice it to say, it's quite messed-up. Which I guess is why he's a serial killer.

Long story short, this movie is awesome. It's that simple. Go see it again, to be reminded of how brilliant it is. And if you haven't seen it yet, you are in for a treat - just remember one thing going in, though: this movie came before all the knock-offs you might have seen before it. And there's likely never going to be another Serial Killer flick quite as excellent.

# 135 - RED DRAGON (2002)

RED DRAGON (2002 - SERIAL KILLER THRILLER) **1/2 out of *****

(Wow. For a killer called "The Tooth Fairy" he sure looks fairly butch.)



CAST: Edward Norton, Harvey Keitel, Ralph Fiennes, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Mary Louise Parker, Emily Watson.

DIRECTOR: Brett Ratner.

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and decidedly non-flirtatious Lecter behavior - straight ahead.




Ask anyone to name the Top Five most memorable cinematic villains to come along in the last twenty years. Chances are the name "Hannibal Lecter" will be included, along with possibly Catherine Trammell (BASIC INSTINCT), Hans Gruber (DIE HARD), Darth Vader (DUH), and whatever rocket scientist approved Nicolas Cage's hairdo in NEXT (talk cruel and unusual punishment). In fact, I don't think anyone ever thought of fava beans, Chianti, or Anthony Hopkins in the same way ever again.

Most audiences got their introduction to Dr. Lecter through Anthony Hopkins' brilliant performance in THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS in 1990. But the character had been around long before that, and had even featured in another film. The not-so-good doctor made his debut in Thomas Harris' novel "Red Dragon" in 1980. Then, in 1985, he made his cinematic debut in MANHUNTER (1985), Michael Mann's slick and scary adaptation of that novel.

In MANHUNTER, Dr. Lecter was played by the now-ubiquitous Brian Cox. Several years later, after Harris' next novel "The Silence of the Lambs" hit big and picked up for the silver screen, Cox was reportedly approached to reprise his role of Hannibal Lecter. Fortunately, he turned it down for whatever reason. No disrespect intended to Brian Cox, because he's one of my favorite character actors, but I'm glad he did. His understated Lecter was perfect for the coolly clinical MANHUNTER. But for THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, a new Lecter was needed. A fiery, larger-than-life, lethally-charming-when-he's-not-just-being-lethal Lecter.

Enter Sir Anthony Hopkins. And the rest is history....

After the huge critical and commercial success of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, it was only inevitable that a sequel would rise, albeit belatedly. In 2001, HANNIBAL was released and raked in $50-plus million in its first three days of play in North America. Although not as critically-adored as its predecessor, HANNIBAL became a huge domestic and international hit - enough for the powers-that-be to start eyeing the first Lecter novel, "Red Dragon". Enough for them to travel back in time, cinematically speaking, and adapt it a second time under its true title.

RED DRAGON opens with a shot of our not-so-good Dr. Lecter at a symphony. He's trying his best to enjoy the music. Unfortunately, one of the orchestra's flutists is playing just a tad off-key. Now, to most people this would go unnoticed. Dr. Lecter, however, has hearing that makes a bat look like a prime candidate for a hearing aid. Basically, it's like nails scraping a chalkboard. Only somehow worse. And our doctor likes his music, just like his crimes, to be perfect. Which means that the flutist isn't long to this world.

Not too much later, we see Lecter entertaining a bunch of la-di-da dipsits at a dinner party where the guests talk about the following: (1) how tragic it is that the flutist has gone missing; (2) but also how fortunate that is for the symphony since his fluting skills were more suited to blowjobs than actual flute-playing; and (3) what is that divine red sauce that Dr. Lecter just served them? Do tell.

Lecter smiles coyly and actually says: "I'm afraid if I tell you, you won't eat it." No fucking shit, doc. Just tell them it's "Flutist Ragu." That ought to wake them up.

Anyhow, long after the hoity-toites leave with human flesh rolling around in their tummies, our hero shows up to consult with Dr. Lecter. He is FBI Special Agent Will Graham (Edward Norton), and he's been using Lecter's psychiatric wisdom to try to solve the recent spate of murders that apparently now involves the missing flutist. Of course, Graham has no fucking clue that he's basically soliciting advice from the person he's looking for. Not yet anyway.

Turns out the reason for Graham's visit is to inform Lecter that he just had a revelation. See, the killer - ahem - has been removing sections of flesh - double ahem - from the bodies. And Graham just realized that the section removed are all connected to... cooking. From there, it's a fairly small leap to conclude that the killer he's looking for is a cannibal.

Oh my God, you should see the barely-concealed look of "Holy Fucking Shit" on Lecter's face at this news. Oh, sure... he gives good poker face - but you know underneath he's thinking "This. Goddamned. Upstart. Has. Figured. Me. Out." To cover for his dismay, Lecter kisses Graham's ass and uses a bunch of fancy words to call him a superhuman genius who can "assume the emotional viewpoint of others - even if its unpleasant." Psssst, doc. There's a bunch of people who can do that: they're called actors and they tend to congregate in New York and L.A. Just keeping it real, doc.. Please don't eat me. At least, not literally.

Needless to say, our not-so-good doctor know its just a matter of time (minutes, to be exact) before Graham piece things together. So Lecter tries to kill him by jamming a knife in midsection, while calling him "a remarkable boy." Which would be accurate, considering Graham beat Lecter at his own game. He goes on to prove just how remarkable he is by going tit-for-tat and jamming a bunch of nearby arrows into Lecter's hard-to-miss gut. This distracts our not-so-good doc long enough for Graham to pull out his ankle gun and pump a few ounces of lead into Lecter's aforementioned gut. Seems it's a bad night to be Hannibal Lecter's gut.

Not enough to kill him, though, otherwise we wouldn't have THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS and HANNIBAL.

Flash forward a few years, and we find Graham has been medically-retired from the Bureau, and is now living the good life on Key West in a bungalow by the sea with wife Molly (Mary-Louis Parker) and son Josh ( ). Well, I guess that's one way to get a cushy retirement: survive getting gutted by a cannibalistic serial killer. And I guess there's the added achievement of being the one to actually putting Lecter behind bars.

Unfortunately, Graham's peace doesn't last for long. His old boss, Special Agent Jack Crawford (Harvey Keitel), shows up to recruit his help in solving a new case: a new serial killer nicknamed "The Tooth Fairy" has killed two whole families in Georgia and Alabama. Evidently, the Fairy (snicker) kills every 30 days or something, and the clock is ticking down to when the next family will fall.

As much as Graham would love to stay on Key West and allow his hair to get blonder and his skin to get tanner, he feels that he should lend Crawford his help. Molly, as you can imagine, takes this news like someone just told her that a hurricane is headed their way and all the bridges back to the mainland have been sabotaged by intelligent sharks. In other words, Graham's got a lot of hard-selling to do.

Eventually, Molly gives in and lets him go. Without wasting any time, Graham heads over to the homes of the murdered families and does his "remarkable" thing by prowling around the inside and outside of the house to try to get into the killer's head. Soon, he intuits the following things: (1) the Fairy's interest is in the mothers (shocker, considering his name, right?); (2) he stalks the families and seems to know a lot about their patterns; and (3) he's going to need some help in building the Fairy's profile.

Right about now, you're probably wondering where the fuck Dr. Lecter is in all of this. Patience, young grasshopper, patience. Turns out that Lecter survived Graham's gunshots, and is now residing comfortably in the Baltimore State Sanitarium headed by asshole Frederick Chilton (Anthony Heald). The sharp-eyed and "remarkable" among you may remember that Dr. Chilton became Dr. Lecter's pot roast at the end of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. In this movie, though, Chilton has no fucking clue that his final destination in life will be Dr. Lecter's toilet, and is therefore smug as ever. Just you wait, jackass.

So, Graham again consults with Dr. Lecter on a case. Now, I don't know about you folks, but I'm thinking that Lecter being asked for help by the guy who: (1) stabbed him with arrows, (2) shot him silly, and (3) put him behind bars, is not exactly the most feasible proposition. It's kind of like a deer hunter shooting a stag in the ass, then going up to it and asking it if it has seen Rudolph around lately. In other words, Graham's just asking for it.

Meanwhile, while Graham is (unwisely) hitting up our not-so-good doctor for info on The Tooth Fairy, we we skip over to see what the Fairy is actually doing. Turns out he's a very not-bad-looking guy named Francic Dolarhyde. Actually, make that a smokin' hot guy named Francis Dolarhyde. Not surprising, since Dolarhyde is played by Ralph Fiennes. Yes, folks. Our serial killer, The Tooth Fairy, is played by Ralph Fiennes. How's that for "shit that doesn't add up."

Anyhow, when Dolarhyde is not stalking families with the intention of turning them into statistics and urban legends, he works as some sort of video processor/technician. As you can imagine, his coworkers at the company are kind of scared of him. Probably because he's too good-looking. Happens all the time. The only person that is kind to him is blind co-worker Reba McClane (Emily Watson). Dolarhyde finds comfort in the fact that she can't see him because he thinks of himself as ugly. Again, try to suspend your disbelief.

Things get complicated, though, when Dolarhyde finds himself falling for Reba. Yes, deep down our serial killer is really just Heathcliff from WUTHERING HEIGHTS. For realz, yo. It goes without saying that when you are getting ready to unleash a can of hurt on some unsuspecting family, getting all googly-eyed for someone is a big distraction and highly inadvisable. It appears that The Tooth Fairy isn't a fairy after all.

So... the big questions... Will Dolarhyde allow Reba to humanize him? Will Graham get anything useful out of Lecter? Or will Lecter just smile and politely tell him to fuck off? Or worse - will Lecter deliberately try to mislead Graham and - even worse - turn Dolarhyde onto Molly and Josh? Will Graham catch up with Dolarhyde in time to save the next family? And the most pressing question of all: will Edward Norton and Ralph Fiennes end up duking it out in a game of "Quien Es Muy Macho?"

Inquring minds would like to know.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: It's a shame that RED DRAGON came out in 2002 - well after the Serial Killer genre's zenith. In the aftermath of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS's runaway success, a tidal wave of similar films (in plot, if not quality, for most) flooded theaters: JENNIFER EIGHT, COPYCAT, STRIKING DISTANCE, NIGHTWATCH, SEVEN, THE BONE COLLECTOR, THE CRIMSON RIVERS, THE WATCHER, KISS THE GIRLS, and SILENCE's own sequel HANNIBAL - just to name a few.

The point is, with RED DRAGON coming out after all of those movies (despite being based on a book from 1980) the serial-killer conventions it trots out on us feel a little recycled. And for those who've seen MANHUNTER, the superior 1987 version of the novel, that feeling is stronger. While RED DRAGON is technically well-made, it doesn't have any real feeling or distinctive tone of its own.

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS had a no-nonsense, procedural feel to it that was also suspenseful. HANNIBAL had a surreal, dream-like feel to it that was very removed from SILENCE's urgent tone. RED DRAGON, on the other hand, attempts to re-create SILENCE's brisk flavor - but only succeeds in feeling workmanlike and mechanical. What's missing here that was very abundant in both SILENCE and HANNIBAL is tension.

Fortunately, the cast is so good that they make the film a serviceable entry into the genre. Whatever suspense wrung from the story comes from their efforts. Edward Norton make a nicely-atypical and quirky hero. He's very handsome, but not in a way that distracts like Jon Hamm in THE TOWN. You believe immediately in Norton's portrayal of Graham as an extremely intuitive and gifted eideteker whose brilliance is also his curse.

Ralph Fiennes is low-key as Francis Dolarhyde - which is the right "volume level" to play this twisted character at. If Fiennes had played Dolarhyde as more flamboyant, the character would seem less threatening. While it takes a little getting used to seeing Ralph Fiennes as a serial killer, it eventually works due to his combo of icy good looks and innate ability to suggest dark, dark depths beneath those sad eyes.

The rest of the cast nail their roles. Harvey Keitel is concise and potent as Crawford. Philip Seymour Hoffman is appropriately sleazy and hissable as a tabloid reporter who becomes a pawn in both Graham and Lecter's games.

As for the women, Mary Louise Parker and Emily Watson are very good in their roles. Parker manages to keep Molly from slipping into "damsel-in-distress" territory, while Watson provides the film with something approaching an emotional center with her strange and strangely-sympathetic relationship with Dolarhyde.

And what about Sir Anthony Hopkins? Well, he's good as ever as Hannibal Lecter. This time, though, he is a meaner (if that's possible) presence. Remember: his dynamic with Graham is an antagonistic one since Graham caught him. Their exchanges have none of the semi-playful and almost-affectionate tones that Lecter's conversation with SILENCE's Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster). As he did with SILENCE, Hopkins and Lecter make the most of their limited screen time.

In the end, RED DRAGON is rendered average by its late entry into the genre, despite originating from source material that basically established it. Unfortunately, director Brett Ratner's attempts to recreate THE SILENCE OF THE LAMB's style instead of giving his film a flavor of its own also works against it.

Fortunately, that stellar cast sells the material with their conviction and dedication to their roles. And given how played out the Serial Killer genre is by now, I suppose that's more than we can hope for.

REVIEW UPDATE: THE CRIMSON RIVERS is out, and KISS THE GIRLS is in...

Hello, folks. Magic Time is here. Hope everyone has good plans for the weekend. If not, find some. As in: get thy ass to a Halloween Party! Not telling what my costume is. Suffice it to say, it'll be provocative. My it's getting hot in here...

Anyhow, a bit of annoying news. My DVD Pimp has just informed me that his DVD of THE CRIMSON RIVERS is unavailable and probably lost. Fortunately, there's no shortage of Serial Killer flicks out there. So, allow me to introduce the Morgan Freeman-Ashley Judd hit from 1997, KISS THE GIRLS. Check out the trailer below. I've heard of people who like to collect stuff, but this is just insane...



Yikes. The review for KISS THE GIRLS will post along with the other six reviews by Monday morning.

Happy Halloween.

REVIEW UPDATE: The Serial Killer Flicks...

Evening, folks. Hope everyone's happy as a lark and enjoying life. Just remember - Magic Time is coming. Yes, the weekend. If that doesn't put a smile on your face, then maybe you need to check to see if you have a mouth.

Anyhow, the last of the Romantic Comedy flicks have posted - and we're on to the Serial Killer theme for this week. The list was published last Sunday, but here it is again. We've got a good mix of hits, misfires, underrated gems, and so-so entries.

# 135 - RED DRAGON

# 136 - THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

# 137 - HANNIBAL

# 138 - JENNIFER EIGHT

# 139 - SEVEN

# 140 - THE CRIMSON RIVERS

# 141 - TAKING LIVES

Here's a taste of what to expect this weekend:







Yup. Suffice it to say, no fields of roses and cutesy montage sequences...


Please expect the reviews to post by Sunday evening. Then we're on to next week's theme, which will be a Jelly-Bean Grab-bag week...

Ciao ciao...

# 134 - GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST (2009)

GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST (2009 - COMEDY/ROMANCE/FANTASY) ** out of *****

(Time to call the Ghostbusters. Now, GODDAMNIT!! NOW!! KILL THIS FUCKING MOVIE NOW!!)



CAST: Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Garner, Breckin Meyer, Lacey Chabert, Michael Douglas, Anne Archer, Emma Stone, Robert Forster.

DIRECTOR: Marc Waters.

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and rather questionable Scrooge parallels straight ahead…




The first sign that GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST is a film you should treat with the same seriousness you should extend a stock tip from a meth-head, is the scene where our hero, fashion photographer Conner Mead (Matthew McConaughey), convinces some singer/actress/bimbo to pose with an apple on her head. What’s so unbelievable about that? Well, hang on: a second later, a Japanese archer appears from the wings and, at Connor’s command, fires an arrow into the apple perched precariously on the terrified airhead celebrity’s, uh, head.

Right. Sure. That would be completely believable - in a world where attorneys and lawsuits don’t exist, that is. Evidently, the movie would have us believe that Connor Mead is such a brilliant stud muffin photographer that he can get away with shit like that. Then again, the movie exists in a world where Matthew McConaughey plays a guy who breaks up with three girlfriends. At the same time. On a video conference call.

Right. Sure. Only in movies do we find lecherous dirtbags this creative. Or at least movies like GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST, which would have us believe that a rampant lothario like Connor Mead is visited by the: (1) the Ghost of Girlfriends Past; (2) the Ghost of Girlfriends Present; and (3) the Ghost of Girlfriends Future. All during the weekend of Connor’s brother Paul’s (Breckin Meyer) wedding. Which is the second sign that GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST is probably not a film that will score high on the credibility scale - the fact that Matthew McConaughey and Breckin Meyer play brothers. Don’t get me wrong - both these guys are very handsome in their own ways. Just very different ways. Like a sleek rattlesnake and an adorable koala bear pretending to be siblings.

Anyhow, Connor’s presence at the rehearsal dinner is about as soothing as Bengal tiger in a hen house. For example, he does the following: (1) clashes with old pal and ex-flame Jenny Perotti (Jennifer Garner); (2) gets drunk and basically calls the sacrament of marriage a ridiculous travesty; (3) runs afoul of Paul’s soon-to-be father-in-law (Robert Forster); and (4) generally makes an unpleasant ass out of himself.

Not for long though, because the first of the Ghosts shows up and takes him on a journey through his past to show Connor how he became the incorrigible jerk that he is. And that ghost is his Uncle Wayne (Michael Douglas), a legendary womanizer that was Connor’s guardian after his parents died. Wayne warns Connor that if he doesn’t change his ways, he’s going to regret it - like Wayne himself eventually did. Like picking up a tall blonde in a bar with shoulders that are just a little too broad, a voice a little too deep, and hands a little too big. With a lump on her throat that looks suspiciously like an Adam’s Apple.

Will Connor learn from Uncle Wayne, the other three ghosts, and his journey? Will he realize the error of his ways? Will he try to make it up to Paul and his psycho bride, Sandra (Lacey Chabert), and save their wedding? Or will he fuck it up royally? Will he re-connect with Jenny? Or will she basically show him her hand and tell him to talk to it? Why is Matthew McConaughey’s tan the color of a Sicilian Blood Orange?

Discover for yourselves. And play a drinking game where everyone does shots whenever Connor is referred to as a “Man-Whore.”


BUT, SERIOUSLY: The only reason this film rates a ** (mediocre) and not *½ (utter crap) or even (God help it) lower, is the presence of some amusing scenes and funny lines. However for every one of those, there’s about ten that are just lame or corny. Watching this movie gave me the sensation watching a raft slowly sink into a lake - and feeling sorry for the nice people stuck on it.

The cast, led by Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Garner, are talented and have done better work elsewhere. Here, they are stuck playing characters that are only sporadically interesting. Connor Mead comes across as poor man’s Mike Chadway from THE UGLY TRUTH (review # 133). In that movie, Gerard Butler played a similar unapologetically promiscuous character - but sold him to the audience because he was hilarious. Aside from some droll lines and a few sharp scenes, Matthew McConaughey is stuck with character who doesn’t have much charm (despite all appearances to the contrary) under that smug surface. Which is why Connor Mead doesn’t hold a candle to Mike Chadway. Chadway told it like it is without being smarmy, while Mead fairly rolls in it.

Jennifer Garner is also stuck playing a rather bland character, despite her best efforts to try to liven her up. Jenny Perotti is supposed to be a no-nonsense good girl who is everyone’s rock. The problem is Jenny comes across as too much of a saint. You just don’t understand what a bad boy like Connor Mead would see in her - and her in him. Sure, the script tries to tell us that Connor is really a romantic who was just led astray by early heartbreak and an influential uncle. But it just all feels… false and lifeless. Contrast this film with THE UGLY TRUTH, which was full of energy but still felt real.

The rest of the cast do their best to support McConaughey and Garner, with Breckin Meyer his usual winning self as Connor’s less flashy brother. Lacey Chabert as the high-strung Sandra is just a tad too histrionic and shrill. Which would be fine, if it were funny. Sadly, it’s not.

The best I can say about GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST is that it had good intentions, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. It’s a shame, too, because there’s a kernel of a good idea buried in the script.

# 133 - THE UGLY TRUTH (2009)

THE UGLY TRUTH (2009 - COMEDY/ROMANCE) **** out of *****

(I think I just met my Prince Charming. Seriously.)



CAST: Katherine Heigl, Gerard Butler, Bree Turner, Eric Winter, Nick Searcy, Cheryl Hines, John Michael Higgins.

DIRECTOR: Robert Luketic

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and some potentially disturbing telling-it-like-it-is shenanigans straight ahead.



There are certain movie characters that are considered iconic and timeless. Characters with names like Han Solo, Indiana Jones, Luke Skywalker, Hannibal Lecter, Ferris Bueller, Catherine Trammell, Clarice Starling, Robin Hood, James Bond, Jason Bourne, The Bride, Maximus Decidius Meridius, Harry Potter, The Terminator, John McClane, Bonnie and Clyde, Harry, Sally, Jake Gittes, Katherine Mulwray, Rosemary Woodhouse, Thomas Crown, Roger Thornhill, and Howard The Duck. Just to name a few. Okay, Howard The Duck wasn’t exactly an iconic character - more like notorious. But he might be on someone's personal list of iconic characters.

Which brings me to my next point: characters that should be iconic but are not well-known enough to considered so. This doesn’t change the fact that they’re utterly awesome, though. Just undiscovered, I guess. Everyone’s “List Of Should-Be-Iconic Characters” varies from person to person, but my own includes, but is not limited to: (1) Roy McAvoy (Kevin Costner) from TIN CUP; (2) Carly Norris (Sharon Stone) from SLIVER; (3) Johnny Storm (Chris Evans) from FANTASTIC FOUR 1 & 2; (4) Jensen (Chris Evans) from THE LOSERS; (5) Elektra King (Sophie Marceau) from THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH; (6) Bancroft (Timothy Dalton) from HAWKS; and (7) Mike Chadway (Gerard Butler) from… THE UGLY TRUTH.

Ah… Mike Chadway. If I ever had a soul brother for a movie character it would be this guy. Loud, lewd, promiscuous, rambunctious, cocky, sexy, profane, smart, spirited, and hilarious - Mike is a man’s man if there ever was one. This guy makes your average he-man look like, well, a thorough pussy. In other words, he just might the Best Drinking Buddy Ever. Unfortunately, one person’s godsend is another person’s demon. In other words, Mike just might also be the Worst Co-Worker Ever to certain uptight, humorless, and repressed individuals.

Abby Richter would be one such individual. So anal-retentive that she micro-manages a blind date’s choice of bottled water over tap water, Abby is one of those chicks that actually walks around with a checklist of what she wants from a potential mate. An actual, physical checklist. Which, to most red-blooded hetero men, makes Abby a hot, large-breasted, but no less deadly human version of a marauding Great White Shark. Actually, that would be unfair to a Great White Shark. At least the shark just puts you out of your misery immediately. With Abby, you’re pretty much guaranteed a slow, painful, agonizing death punctuated by questions like “What are you thinking?” and “What do you think we should name our first kid?”

Anyhow, Mike and Abby meet when he is hired by her TV station boss (Nick Searcy) to try to jumpstart the sagging ratings of their news/variety show. See, Mike has his own cable access show where he can pretty much run free with his wildly controversial and irreverently profane (read: truthful) take on the battle of the sexes. Abby, the TV station’s lead producer, is already familiar with Mike’s, um, body of work. As you can imagine, her opinion of it as about the same as her opinion on nude wrestling in a wading pool full of olive oil. In other words - not her cup of tea, thanks.

Fortunately, no one asks Abby for her opinion when Mike is hired on to the station. Probably nobody cares because she’s such an controlling bitch. So Abby has no choice but to work with someone for whom she has just a little bit less respect for than an empty tampon dispenser during a heavy flow day. Ordered to keep Mike happy - which presumably doesn’t include mint-enhanced blowjobs - Abby pretty much gnashes her teeth at the thought that her once clean and respectable show (read: boring as hell) is now laced with lewd and crude innuendo and shenanigans like semi-nude wrestling in a wading pool full of cherry Jell-O (read: FUN FACTORY!) which causes the uptight husband-and-wife anchors (Cheryl Hines and John Michael Higgins) to practically ravish each other right there in front of the camera (read: PARTAY!).

As you can imagine, the ratings of Abby’s show skyrocket. Seems there’s a huge audience for crude, clever, crudely-clever, and cleverly-crude humor. Thank. God. Ahem. For his part, Mike is enjoying his newfound status as a local celebrity. But he’s enjoying one privilege of his new job that just doesn’t compare to anything else in life: being able to annoy the living crap out of Abby. Which is kind of like shooting tuna in a barrell, because as Mike himself says, she’s “wound like a fucking top.” In other words: so many buttons, so little time...

Things start to change for the better (I guess) when Abby meets a handsome dude named Colin (Eric Winter). For someone as structured and married to checklists as Abby, this guy is a sopping wet dream. To wit, he: (1) is a doctor, (2) has awesome pecs, (3) is a doctor, (4) has a great smile, (5) is a doctor, (6) is a cat lover, (6) is a doctor, (7) has a great tan, (8) is a doctor, (9) and likes to go on romantic picnics. And did I mention he’s a doctor?

Anyhow, Mike smells trouble and quickly tells Abby like it is. Which is that she'll most likely scare Colin off with her control-freak-psycho-bitch-with-a-checklist tendencies. Outraged, Abby tells him that Colin is different from other guys and is kind and caring and really interested in what a woman has to say and not as a piece of meat and he also… Well, we never get to hear the rest of Abby’s description of Colin - because Mike pretty much cuts her off with his bellowing laughter of utter disbelief.

When he (and we) finally recover from that colossal load of fanciful horseshit, he tells Abby that she has a greater chance of getting D.B. Cooper to do a guest stint on her show than getting Colin to fall in love with her. Which might as well be a slap in the face with bag full of soap bars, if you’re a uptight and repressed chick like Abby. Sensing that Mike knows what he’s talking about, she opens up a little (and therefore sets off a blizzard halfway around the world in the Sahara) and wonders what she should do.

Well, Mike didn’t get to be the King of the Poonhounds by being a wallflower. Suffice it to say, he knows a thing or to about what gives a guy a hard-on. And better yet, he knows a thing or two about what keeps that hard-on raging. Before you know it, the Uptight Bitch and the Boorish Asshole make a bet: if Mike’s advice and help bags Colin for Abby, then she stops harping on Mike and lets him do as he pleases on his show. If, however, Colin runs for the hills anyway, then Mike will quit the show and let Abby live in peace - and spinsterhood - for the rest of her life.

Will Mike’s advice work? Will Colin be hooked by the new and improved Abby? Or will he see through the ploy? Does Abby really like Colin? Or will she realize that her “checklist” is a big load of hooey? Will she start to develop respect for Mike and his wisdom, however crude and lewd? Will Mike start to develop respect for Abby and her values, however boring and banal? Or will they go right back to sniping at each other like a couple of piranhas that haven’t been fed in three days? Will they - GASP! - fall in love?

And most importantly: will Mike see the light and ditch Abby and her show for a stint as my co-critic on this blog? Will he? Will he?

Now that would be a match made in heaven - or hell. At least we’d have fun - and I wouldn’t nag him. Unlike Abby, who must have a couple of Gold Medals in her closet for it.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: Some folks will think “I can’t believe he gave THE UGLY TRUTH four stars out of five.” I don’t blame them. See, I didn’t hold out much hope for this film, either. The trailers looked okay enough, and Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler are certainly attractive and talented. But the movie didn’t look any different from a hundred other “odd couple” romantic comedies where two totally different people first hate each other’s guts - then gradually fall in love.

But when I actually watched the film, it happened. I fell for it. Very much the same way that Mike and Abby fall for each other: unexpectedly (on their part, anyway) but not unwillingly. And the chief reason is Mike and Abby themselves. Heigl and Butler manage to take two roles that were just a couple of nuances away from being stereotypes - and make them seem fresh and real. And the chemistry between the two of them is so explosive you can almost see the molecules burning in the air.

Katherine Heigl played an unlucky-in-love character in 27 DRESSES (2007), and Abby has a similar history. But while Jane from that earlier film was actually fairly laid-back, Abby in this film is far more high-strung and brittle. Professionally, Abby is cool and competent. Around men, though, she turns into a controlling nag. But Heigl manages to, at first, hint at the mischievous streak under Abby’s “Type-A” surface - then outright display it later on when Mike’s influence and advice take hold on her. The result is a heroine who is believably uptight but also believably spontaneous underneath. Heigl makes Abby’s transformation both seamless and funny.

But THE UGLY TRUTH’s ace up its sleeve is Gerard Butler as Mike Chadway. Mostly managing to suppress his Scottish accent, Butler makes Mike into a truly memorable character: someone louder and larger than life, but also idiosyncratic and human at the same time. He has some profanely clever lines that will bust you up. The script could’ve easily played Mike as a one-note pig, but it gives him enough dimension to keep the character from being an obnoxious stereotype. As Mike and Abby’s unexpected friendship deepen, you can see the effect it has on his emotions. Watch for the scene outside Abby’s hotel room wherein Mike struggles with his realization that he wants to be more than just a friend or a fuck buddy. Butler gives the character a tentative and surprisingly fragile quality that is endearing. And then watch for the scene wherein Mike is interviewed on a national TV show and is asked about who broke his heart. Without saying a single word, Butler’s expression conveys Mike’s secret broken heart - and just like that, we figure out why the character is the way he is.

Heigl and Butler also get stellar support from the actors around them. Cheryl Hines and John Michael Higgins are hilarious as the bickering anchors who slowly fall under Mike’s spell - and end up falling in lust with each other because of him. Bree Turner is a nice presence as Abby’s best friend, Joy. It’s nice to see a romantic comedy with a “best friend” character who is just as attractive as the heroine. Turner also has some nicely tart lines. Finally, Eric Winter as Abby’s crush, Colin, is appropriately handsome and deliberately bland - perhaps to contrast him starkly with the much more dynamic Mike. I would invoke the LLT syndrome here, but there was never meant to be a true triangle between Mike, Abby, and Colin. Colin’s just there as a reason to get Abby and Mike to conspire with one another - and not to give Mike a run for his money.

Because let’s face it - any guy competing against Mike Chadway would have his work cut out for him. And he’s one-third of what makes THE UGLY TRUTH soar. The other two-thirds is Katherine Heigl and their sizzling connection with one another.

Now that's chemistry...

# 132 - RUNAWAY BRIDE (1999)

RUNAWAY BRIDE (1999 - ROMANCE/COMEDY) *** out of *****

(And what, may I ask, is so wrong with bolting every time someone gets too clingy? What, I ask you!?!? WHAT?!?)




CAST: Julia Roberts, Richard Gere, Hector Elizondo, Joan Cusack, Rita Wilson, Christopher Meloni, Paul Dooley, Donal Logue, Jean Schertler, Reg Rogers, Yul Vazquez, Kathleen Marshall.

DIRECTOR: Garry Marshall.

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and serial-wedding-cuckolding shenanigans straight ahead…



In my review for CAIRO TIME (review # 107) I stated that chemistry between two stars can sometimes save a film from being average - or worse: being a piece of shit. There are certain films that, were it not for an electric connection between its leads, would hardly be able justify their release on DVD, let alone in theatres. Yup, powerful chemistry between actors is like Audience Beer Goggles: it completely blinds you to the fact that movie you’re watching is really, well, a dog.

Consider PRETTY WOMAN, that mega-hit from 1990 that even the inhabitants of Mars love. But take away the deliciously awesome combo of Richard Gere and Julia Roberts, and what do you have left? Bullshit of the highest magnitude that would have you believe a cold-hearted tycoon is capable of being melted by a Hollywood street walker. Right. And Cinderella and Prince Charming really did exist and are about to celebrate their Ruby Anniversary.

But put Gere and Roberts back into the picture and suddenly you’ve got CINDERELLA in thigh-high boots, a micro-mini, and a going rate of $3,000 a week. In other words, with Julia Roberts having such a blast in those thigh-highs, PRETTY WOMAN isn’t too far from being a recruiting poster for prostitution. Hell, the first time I saw it even I was ready to try life as a hooker.

Flash forward about nine years, and we find ourselves in similar territory. We have Richard Gere and Julia Roberts reuniting with each other and their PRETTY WOMAN director, Garry Marshall, for another go at Box-Office glory. The trio’s sophomore effort (literally and figuratively) is called RUNAWAY BRIDE - and its basically PRETTY WOMAN in a small town, without the thigh-highs or snooty Rodeo Drive shopgirls. And, technically, Julia Roberts doesn’t play a hooker - just a girl who repeatedly dazzles, woos, beds, and then dumps men at the altar. Hmmmm… Well, I guess she does kind of play a hooker, right?

Whatever. Anyhow, she plays Maggie Carpenter, who - as mentioned above - has made a name for herself in her small town of Hale, Maryland. If you’re thinking that “made a name for herself” translates to being super-successful, you’d be wrong. Unless you mean: “super-successful at making men fall for her, propose to her, then watching her bolt like a horse on acid just as they’re about to meet up at the altar.” In other words, Maggie Carpenter is to weddings, as Elmer Fudd is to rabbit-hunting. Which means she basically sucks at it.

Who’s Richard Gere playing in all of this? Thanks for asking. He is Ike Graham, a weekly columnist at USA TODAY who obviously doesn’t take his job seriously, because: (1) he waits until the last minute to write his shit; (2) then asks total strangers on the street for ideas out of desperation; and then (3) writes an entire column based on the say-so of a drunk asshole from his favorite bar, which (4) apparently, is also his office.

Now, I’d like to be frank here and say that I have about as much sympathy for Ike as I do for people who star in reality shows and then wonder why they’re suddenly national laughing-stocks. For starters, he’s freaking out over writing ONE whole column a week? Hey, Ike… newsflash for you, dude: try writing SEVEN of the goddamned things in a week. Or sometimes even more than that, especially if I’ve been busy socializing with fellow miscreants or having domestic disputes with my cat.

And then there’s taking the word of a drunken, bitter bastard and creating a whole column out of it. In this case, that column revolves around Maggie and her “See Ya!” antics at the altar. Fueled by either indignation or desperation or both, Ike whips out a lacerating indictment of our heroine - without confirming a single fucking thing that he’s been told. Wow. Even my college paper had more stringent fact-checking guidelines.

It comes as no surprise to us that Maggie eventually reads this column on her exploits - and explodes like Mt. Etna. In short order, she does the following: (1) writes a similarly lacerating letter to Ellie (Rita Wilson), managing editor of USA TODAY; (2) points out all the slanderous items in Ike’s column - such as she only cuckolded three guys, not seven, thank you very much; and (3) demands that Ike be handed his ass before being tossed out onto it; or (4) she will sue the newspaper within an inch of its life.

Guess what happens to Ike? Yup, Ellie basically bows to Maggie’s wishes. Of course, it doesn’t help that the Ellie is Ike’s ex-wife. It further doesn’t help that he basically patronizes Ellie and treats her like they’re still married - read: like shit. Fuck, I’d fire him, too - with or without the threat of Maggie’s lawsuit. And just like that, the great Ike Graham is reduced to a severance package and a bitch of a job search ahead of him.

Fortunately, Ellie’s new husband, Fisher (Hector Elizondo), is also Ike’s best friend (I don’t even want to know how that happened). Fisher is a fashion photographer who regularly works for GQ, and he manages to secure Ike a feature gig - writing about Maggie and her upcoming fourth marriage to Bob (Christopher Meloni). Fisher, being a good friend, wants to give Ike a shot at redemption - and vindication. Basically, Ike will document Maggie’s new would-be wedding. And if she runs again, then he’ll have proven his point - and will be back on top again. Or so he thinks.

Needless to say, Ike jumps all over Fisher’s offer and books it for Hale, Maryland to basically start stalking Maggie. And the race is on…

As you would expect, Ike and Maggie don’t exactly hit it off when they finally meet. Let’s recall that this guy basically trashed her in print in front of the entire nation - if not the world. And let’s not forget that this chick pretty much ruined him professionally - possibly permanently. In other words, people have stabbed each other in the eyes for less. And, yet, this is supposed to be the basis of an, ahem, “romantic comedy?”

Good luck with that, dipshits…

Will Ike be vindicated? Will Maggie bolt a fourth time? Or will she go through with it just to prove Ike wrong and ruin him for good? Or will Ike and Maggie fall for each other? Will Ike inadvertently cause Maggie to run? Or is he doing it intentionally as payback? Does Maggie have a secret agenda of her own? Why do men keep falling for Maggie anyway? I mean, I know she looks like Julia Roberts and all, but come on! Is she that good in the sack?

And most significantly: couldn’t the writers think of a better third-act twist than the one they toss onto us like one of those 100 lb. salmons at Pike Place Market?

Whatever. I need to drink a whole bottle of vinegar as an antidote to this movie.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: Just going to come out and say it: if it weren’t for the star power and chemistry between Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, RUNAWAY BRIDE would be very average - if not even mediocre. What further saves the movie is the colorful and vibrant supporting cast. What’s interesting about this film is how it feels more like an ensemble rather than just a star vehicle for its leads. RUNAWAY BRIDE rises as high as it does because everyone in this film looks like they’re having a blast.

Julia Roberts manages, as usual, to make us believe in her character. Maggie Carpenter clearly has commitment and trust issues, but Roberts actually sells the reason why the character does what she does - even if she may not necessarily be aware of it herself until late in the game. And in doing so, she also sells the character. As Ike Graham, Richard Gere is both more laidback and animated than he’s been in awhile. In contrast to his role of Edward in PRETTY WOMAN, Ike is a more explosive and openly charming personality - and Gere wins us over with a combo of brash charisma and surprising sweetness.

As mentioned before, the supporting cast is a strong one. Joan Cusack, Paul Dooley, Rita Wilson, Hector Elizondo, Christopher Meloni, Donal Logue, and Jean Schertler - just to name a few - all knock their roles out of the park. Joan Cusack is the standout, though, as Maggie’s best pal who may harbor envious feelings towards her more vibrant and charismatic best friend.

Still, as good as everyone is, it can’t be denied that the script for RUNAWAY BRIDE has a serious flaw that’s enough to keep it from rising from being an above-average romantic comedy to an outright good one: that third-act twist that would have us believe that… well, I’m not going to spoil it. Suffice it to say, director Garry Marshall and his writers had the chance to turn this movie’s third act into a compelling one with an undeniably great hook: Ike and Maggie slowly fall in love - which ironically just might actually make her bolt a fourth time, and prove Ike right to the world. Except his feelings for Maggie have changed...

The movie is actually proceeding down this path - until it decides to chuck all the good groundwork that its leads and supporting cast have covered by throwing us a twist that looks, feels, and rings patently false. Sure, it makes for some cutesy montage sequence set to peppy pop songs - but its all dishonest. What a shame.

Fortunately, the film regains its footing, somewhat, because of two things at the very end: (1) a lovely reconciliation scene between Maggie and Ike that is touching and as honest as you can expect from a romantic comedy these days; and (2) a funny, vibrant end credit sequence that almost makes you believe in happily ever after.

Had Marshall and his writers found a more truthful way to handle the third act, RUNAWAY BRIDE would have scored higher than above average (***). But, taken as it is, it is still a pleasant and diverting film which proves that if you have the right leads and a solid supporting cast backing them up, you can get away with almost anything.

UPCOMING REVIEWS FOR THE WEEK OF 10/25/10 - 10/31/10

Well, folks... Halloween is just around the corner, and to commemorate this fun holiday, we will be reviewing... Serial Killer flicks. I thought about reviewing all seven of the HALLOWEEN films, which would've been perfect for the whole week. But that would also be too predictable and unsurprising.

So, here's the list:

# 135 - RED DRAGON: 2002 (AKA: Edward Norton Plus Ralph Fiennes Equals A Hot FBI Agent Vs. A Hot Serial Killer)

# 136 - THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS: 1990 (AKA: The Clarice And Hannibal Show)

# 137 - HANNIBAL: 2000 (AKA: Hannibal Lecter's Italian Holiday)

# 138 - JENNIFER EIGHT: 1992 (AKA: Anyone Up For A Deadly Game Of Blind Man's Bluff?)

# 139 - SEVEN: 1994 (AKA: That's Just Fucked Up)

# 140 - THE CRIMSON RIVERS: 2000 (AKA: SEVEN In The French Alps)

# 141 - TAKING LIVES: 2004 (AKA: The Killer Hermit Crab)

It's going to be a scary ride. Happy Halloween!

REVIEW UPDATE: The last three Rom-Coms for this week...

Hello, folks... Hope the weekend was a great one for everybody. After all, we don't call it "Magic Time" for no reason.

And this weekend is extra special because a friend graduated and got her Master's Degree - and I'm quite ecstatic for her. In keeping with my code of using celebrities who resemble people I know in real life, we will refer to her as "Linda Evangelista." Linda looked great walking across the stage at Benaroya Hall today with her fellow graduates. Very inspiring...

At any rate, please note that we are only three reviews away from being caught up. One change though: I will no longer be reviewing LIFE AS WE KNOW IT. The cinema near my place is no longer showing it, and I've decided to replace it with another Katherine Heigl flick, the very underrated and very hilarious THE UGLY TRUTH. You'll thank me later...

So, please find below the new line-up:

# 132 - RUNAWAY BRIDE

# 133 - THE UGLY TRUTH

# 134 - GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIENDS PAST

The last of these Rom-Com reviews should post by Tuesday at the latest - then we're on to our Serial Killer movies to celebrate Halloween!

Next week's review list will be released as soon as I finish my bottle of Pinot Noir...

Ciao ciao

# 131 - WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING (1995)

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING (1995 - ROMANCE/COMEDY/DRAMA) ***½ out of *****

(Apparently, even a comatose vegetable can have a complicated lovelife, too…)




CAST: Sandra Bullock, Bill Pullman, Peter Gallagher, Peter Boyle, Micole Mercurio, Jack Warden, Glynis Johns, Monica Keena, Ally Walker, Michael Rispoli, Jason Bernard.

DIRECTOR: Jon Turtletaub

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and highly-dubious dalliances with comatose patients - straight ahead…




WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING is the kind of movie that would be over in fifteen minutes if its characters would just sit down and have a good honest conversation with each other. The Romantic Comedy genre seems to depend on its characters’ inability to cut through the bullshit and tell it like it is, which leads to misunderstandings, which lead to arguments, which lead to problems, which have to be resolved. And before you know it, two hours of your life have gone by.

Fortunately, Sandra Bullock is such a likable heroine that we don’t mind that WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING’s central problem snowballs and snowballs until its about the size of the Rockies. Rather than noticing how contrived the set-up is, we actually find it interesting due to Sandy’s appealing vulnerability. Instead of questioning the premise, we willingly go along with the ride.

Sandra plays Lucy Moderatz, a Chicago DOT worker who always gets stuck working holidays because: (1) she’s an accommodating person, (2) her boss Jerry (Jason Bernard) is an opportunistic prick, and (3) she has no family in town to spend her holidays with. This last one, in particular, is apparently enough to make Lucy the automatic go-to girl for shitty shifts. Well, girl, at least you get all that Holiday pay. Let’s stay positive.

And her home life isn’t any more exciting. Unless you count getting hit on by Joe Jr. (Michael Rispoli), the horny son of her landlord, with the frequency of an express train, exciting. Which she doesn’t. It’s all she can do not to wrap her scarf around Joe Jr.’s neck - and garrote him with it. Oh, and she often shares Oreos and milk with her cat. I own a cat, too, but I draw the line at sharing snacks with him. He wouldn’t stand for it anyway, the pig.

But I digress. As usual. So, anyway, Lucy’s life is a modest one - and she’s fine with that. She’s fine with living with a cat. She’s fine with drawing the short straw every single time at work. She’s fine daydreaming about certain commuters that pass by her token booth.

Oh, I forgot to mention that? Yeah, she’s got this huge crush on a yuppie (Peter Gallagher) whom we will call Mr. Spectacular for now. Mr. Spectacular catches the 8:15 every morning. He’s tall, dark, handsome, and has a smile that could blind oncoming drivers. And Lucy has pretty much accepted that she is doomed to love him from afar. Or at least from the other side of the token booth window. Our Lucy seems to have just gone ahead and accepted a lot of things, hasn’t she?

Well, things start looking up all of a sudden. Stuck with a Christmas shift, Lucy is all alone on the train platform when Mr. Spectacular is accosted by a bunch of thugs. In very quick order, the following things happen: (1) the thugs hassle him about his hoity-toity coat and scarf, (2) try to rob him, (3) inadvertently push him off the platform, (4) and book it the hell out of there.

Lucy leaps into action and jumps down onto the platform to try to help Mr. Spectacular. Unfortunately, he’s out like a light, due to hitting his head on the tracks. Fortunately, that old wives’ tale about superhuman strength kicking in when one is scared shitless turns out to be true - so Lucy makes like Xena The Warrior Princess and pulls Mr. Spectacular to safety.

Mr. Spectacular is rushed to the hospital, where we discover the following things: (1) his name is Peter Callaghan, (2) he’s a high-powered attorney, (3) he’s in a coma because of his fall from the platform, and (4) through a highly ludicrous turn of events that makes the plot of PREDATORS look like a model of plausibility, the hospital staff somehow believe that Lucy is Peter’s… fiancee. Say. WHAT?

To make matters worse, right at that moment, Peter’s loud and colorful family barrels into the hospital room like a runaway L train. The passengers of the Callaghan Locomotive are: (1) Dad (Peter Boyle), crusty furniture builder; (2) Mom (Micole Mercurio), bubbly homemaker who loves, uh, creamy mashed potatoes; (3) Grammy (Glynis Johns), chirpy crone who loves Cesar Romero; (4) sister Mary (Monica Keena), your average annoying teenager; and (5) family friend Saul (Jack Warden), a quick study of the highest order.

Naturally, they’re just a bit upset that Peter is in a coma on Christmas day of all days. But the news that Lucy is his fiancee cushions the blow somewhat - and they basically smother with love and attention. For someone who doesn’t have a family, especially on Christmas, this is kind of like being a starving lion and then having a bloody steak tossed at you.

In short order, the Callaghan clan welcome Lucy as one of their own, and involve her in family activities. Then Peter’s brother, Jack (Bill Pullman), shows up and turns out to be an even quicker study than Saul. Jack instantly begins to suspect something is off. Specifically, he has doubts about Lucy’s relationship with Peter - and begins to sniff around.

Will Jack blow Lucy’s story wide open? Or will Saul beat him to it? What happens when Jack slowly finds himself falling for Lucy? How will Lucy tell the Callaghans the truth? And what happens when Peter wakes up from his coma? Will he be the one to end Lucy’s charade? Or will things pan out differently? How is it possible for Bill Pullman and Peter Gallagher to play brothers?

Suffice it to say, none of this would’ve happened if Peter would’ve just taken a cab. He’s a high-powered attorney - he shouldn’t be on the L trains, for crying out loud.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: As I mentioned earlier, Sandra Bullock’s performance goes a long way in making WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING as appealing as it is. At first, it seems like one big gimmicky set-up (lonely women finds herself with an instant family), but the script and the actors treat the premise with the right blend of seriousness and whimsy. Gradually, we find ourselves buying in to the story. As the relationships between Lucy, Jack, Saul and the various other characters deepen, we find ourselves caring for how everything will turn out.

Just like Sandra Bullock’s touching but never maudlin performance, the film’s tone doesn’t overdo the sentimentality or the humor. Another director besides Jon Turtletaub might have gone for either too screwball or too sappy a tone. Turtletaub wisely lets the actors tell the story. Fortunately, the cast hits all the right notes.

Bill Pullman makes an appealing male lead. He adds just the right hint of suspicion towards Lucy at the beginning, without being too antagonistic and falling into the bickering rut that many romantic comedy couples fall into. Their developing relationship has the right flavor too it. Pullman turns Jack into a very likable man’s man, in contrast to the more smooth and upscale playboy Peter.

Speaking of Peter, Peter Gallagher spends most of the film in a coma, but when the character wakes up, he vividly (and humorously) essays his confusion and befuddlement. Imagine coming out of a coma to find out what he does. The various actors and actresses playing the other Callaghans are all well-cast and memorable. Jack Warden as the sharp-eyed but sympathetic Saul is the standout.

In the end, WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING wins you over by the sheer magnetic power of Sandra Bullock’s performance. She’s larger than life while being down to earth, at the same time. That quality is what makes us follow her characters every step of the way in whatever film they may feature in.