Reviews
How to Make an American Quilt (1995)
Never More Than the Sum of Its Devices
I have spent many pleasant hours mocking "How To Make An American Quilt" to friends, but at this moment I want to play fair. I'm sure that there are many things to like about this movie and that somehow they escaped my notice. For me it was never more than a series of plot devices stitched together (ha ha) to form an unsatisfying story.
Winona Ryder is always a pleasure to watch. I've liked her better in more irreverent titles like "Beetlejuice" or "Heathers". Still, she wears earnestness well, and manages to make bearable the Poloniusesque quilt speech at end of the picture (see the quotes section).
The supporting players should be every bit as watchable (with several centuries of acting experience among them, they ought to be). I wish I'd been allowed to watch them act. Their function was to sit in front of the camera quilting and say a few words of introduction before the flashback--as if they were hosts of a documentary.
I want to pause for a moment over Maya Angelou's casting. It's always a tricky thing introducing a famous person from another discipline as an actor. I call it the "Hey, you're Kareem Abdul-Jabbar" problem (based on the scene from _Airplane_ where a kid recognizes the basketball player in the co-pilot's seat. The joke is in how much time he spends denying it). Maya Angelou has screen presence, but does nothing to dispel the problem. My dominant experience watching her was, "Wow, they got Maya Angelou, world famous poet!" Maybe this was the idea. Maybe the filmmakers felt her famous presence would, in itself, add depth to the proceedings, so why muddy it with anything as messy as an interesting character? Her appearance was less acting than promotion. Maya Angelou wouldn't appear in a dog, would she?
Well...
The plot reminds me of a line Robin Williams had about alcoholics, "You realize you're and alcoholic when you repeat yourself. You realize you're an alcoholic when you repeat yourself. You realize, oh dammit." Each woman's story follows a similar pattern. Girl meets boy, sleeps with boy, marries boy, boy leaves, boy comes back--each time unconvincingly (I wonder how far any guy has ever gotten with the opening line "You swim like a mermaid"). The Alfre Woodard story is the only variation, and as a result, the only interesting one among them.
And of course Winona Ryder's Finn has a similar problem. Does she marry Dermott Mulrooney or does she go off with the local stud muffin. I call him the local stud muffin because that's all he is. The actor who played him didn't convince me that there was anything under the perfect I-don't-have-to-work-out abs that would compel her to do more than roll in the field with him. He wasn't a character so much a plot device meant to set up an obvious choice. Handsome rogue or dependable architecht? Given the way the flashbacks ran, take a guess.
There are more scenes to pummel here. There's the thesis blowing away in the wind (she's the only grad student I've ever seen with no notes, no paperweight, and, since she was using a typewriter, no carbons), and there's her random meeting with the Stud Muffin (who just happened to be hanging out in the groves with a picnic basket and a blanket for her. I guess this was set before the advent of stalking laws), but it would take too long to mock them all. The real trouble with the movie is that it was so earnest, so desperate to convince the audience of its poetic depths, that it wound up shallow, unsatisfying, unconvincing and unintentionally funny.
Or, to put it another way--never have so many, who were so talented, worked on something so ordinary.
Amityville: Dollhouse (1996)
Too bad we can't stay, baby.
Eddie Murphy gave the best indictment of the Amityville series' believability when, imitating the new owner of the house, he said, "Oh baby, this place is beautiful. There are trees here and dogs and its a beautiful neighborhood and..."
"Demon: Get out!"
"Too bad we can't stay baby."
Again, in this movie, all of the family's problems would be solved if they did one simple thing. Leave!!! Just leave the house. That's always been my policy when my dead relatives come through the closet and giant mice run under my bed. It's time to go! Why does it take these people so long to figure that out?
Even if they don't want to leave the house, why don't they just destroy the doll house? One sledge hammer blow and all their problems are over.
This is a movie that is so bad that you will call friends to tell them it's on just so they can be in on the badness. The real horror is that they keep making dreck like this, keep employing no-talent actors and writers, and waste valuable plastic that could go into useful items like dildos and replacement parts for George W. Bush's head.
Rosemary's Baby (1968)
It didn't do that much for me
Maybe its because I'm hard to scare, but "Rosemary's Baby" didn't work well for me. I thought the urban paranoia was interesting and sometimes effective, but because I knew the Satanists' entire plan of action within the first five minutes of the movie, the suspense was spoiled (I won't kill the final discoveries for you. That wouldn't be fair. Just know that if you're experienced in these sorts of stories you'll have figured it out _way_ before Mia Farrow does).
Movies like these depend on holding one crucial piece of information out of reach so that you'll figure it out at exactly the same time the character does. If you get it too early, you spend too much time saying, "No, dummy, it's over there!", which makes me feel more frustrated than scared.
So, while it wasn't a bad movie and kept my interest (and Ruth Goldman was amusingly dotty as the neighbor) it didn't scare me.
Eyes Wide Shut (1999)
Splendid, Powerful, Extraordinary!
This movie was a tremendous pleasure to watch. It took its time, set up the tensions and arguments with authority, and gave me a chance to feel those tensions along with Cruise's tortured character. Kubrick did a marvelous job of re-creating Schnitzler's "Traumnovelle" and, as he often has with other works, managed to improve upon it. He gave us a portrait of a man who is following his strongest dreams-- the ones that show him what he cannot be. Nicole Kidman was perfect as the doctor's wife. Some critics have complained that she didn't get enough screen time. I would say she had all she needed. Every word she said cut Cruise deeply enough to keep him bleeding throughout the film. I enjoyed the work immensely. When the credits rolled, I was surprised to find that three hours had passed.
There are critics who have reported that the film wasn't as sexy or conventionally thrilling as they expected. To them I would say "Grow up." This is a film that meditates on the meaning of fidelity to a man's nature. Why are we faithful? What are we giving up when we turn away an offer from a stranger? It will haunt and provoke for decades to come, long after Joe Eszterhas and Brian DePalma have faded from our memories. If you want stroke material, there are movie houses that cater to that taste. If you want intelligent, interesting, and emotionally satisfying work, spend the full eight bucks to see _Eyes Wide Shut_.
Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966)
Bad, but the Worst?
My girlfriend and I watched the original version of Manos last night (the director's cut-- so that we could see Hal Warren's vision in its pristine glory) and yes, it was lousy filmmaking. The actors had to keep moving before someone made furniture out of them. The editing was poor. The fights and killing scenes were ludicruously bad (the "wives" massaging Torgo to death made me laugh for whole minutes).
Still, I can't say I hated this movie. It was lame and laughable, but harmless. It didn't alternately bore me and p**s me off the way _Ringmaster_ and _Armageddon_ did. Highly paid entertainment executives and writers who made six, seven, and eight figure salaries produced those steaming piles of offal. They should have known better. Sure it was stupid, but given the source, what did you expect? Besides, it wasn't obnoxious, loud, and, (because it was so easy to laugh at its absurdities), it held my interest.
So, yeah, it was bad. I've seen worse.
Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999)
It's okay
The commentary seems to be divided between those who loved and hated this picture. I did neither, which is why I found the whole thing such a disappointment. When the credits finally rolled, I found myself rising from my chair and walking out thinking, "Well, that's it, then."
Maybe it's because the entire movie felt like foreshadowing for the next one. Lucas and his gang should have tried harder to generate a self-contained piece of work (you can watch any of the other Star Wars pictures without the rest and still have a fun time-- not that I know anyone who has tried). Maybe Lucas is getting too comfortable. He knows full well we'll all come back for the next one, so he doesn't feel like he has to work for this one. It's a shame.
On one or two other topics. Jar-Jar Binks needs to vanish. Do whatever you have to, George, but ditch him. He's a useless, racist stereotype (and you don't have to go looking for the racism either. It's right there). There is no reason for his presence in the picture. As for Darth Maul, I'm sorry but I wasn't scared. The double light sabre was neat, but I guess he was where The Phantom Menace came in. There might have been menace, but you never saw it.
The other thing these pictures need is some kind of reluctant hero (like Han Solo or Lando Calrissian). Everyone in the picture was so earnest-- so desperate to fight for the cause-- that I wanted to see someone deflate it with an ironic comment or a dash of pragmatism.
One last thing. When Luke Skywalker appears in Episode IV, he's living with his Aunt and Uncle on Tattooine. Where does his uncle come from. There's just Anakin and his mother. They never mention a sibling. Princess Amidala doesn't appear to have a brother either, so what's the deal?
That's all.
Armageddon (1998)
I almost walked out on this movie, and I was on a plane!
Because I can't find "Manos: The Hands Of Fate" in the video stores (and haven't seen it yet on MST3K) I'll have to take my girlfriend's word that it is, in fact, worse than "Armageddon". I loathed every minute of this movie. I wanted the plane I was in to crash to put an end to all of our suffering.
The extraordinary scientific illiteracy of this picture (the credits claim that they had a technical consultant from NASA. Either they didn't listen to him, or they didn't bother to call NASA to see if they'd ever employed a man named Bernie who got his degree from the University of Ralph) would be forgivable if there were something else to redeem it. After all, we routinely forgive Star Wars, Star Trek and James Bond pictures for their absurdities. The real trouble was that the characters were as silly and stupid as the science. Was the shotgun scene that introduces us to Bruce Willis's character supposed to make us like him or care what happens to him? No matter how many soulful looks Liv Tyler aims in his direction, he's still an ass.
The rest of the characters are no more interesting or involving. The director and editor rape and pillage dozens of other movies for their shots, giving the movie the feeling of an MTV stock footage festival.
That's why I damn near walked out of this movie-- 30,000 feet over Saskatchawan.