of Benjy Stone and company sitting around and writing this screenplay, but there is no King Kaiser to tell them it smells, so each of them gets to put in their little story, with the result that when the film seems like it is about to end, it still has 45 minutes to go. Benjy, the lover of Alan Swan movies, insists it needs the big business intrigue, which could have been dispensed with a lot easier, and with two or three less characters to clutter the landscape. Cy wants to punch it up with a sex scene, and has the idea to shoot it so that with a few added cameras, it can qualify for late nights on Cinemax as a half-hour feature. Silent Herb has the right idea: why can't Death just come for this big wig and leave it at that. Maybe he can choke on a gristly piece of lamb and get the picture over in 90 minutes.
Thirteen years ago my friend D___ dropped dead at 62 on a Long Island golf course. He had piles of money, loving kids, a wonderful second wife and many friends. He was lucky; he told me once that was how he wanted to go. If he'd waited, this film would have killed him.
Thirteen years ago my friend D___ dropped dead at 62 on a Long Island golf course. He had piles of money, loving kids, a wonderful second wife and many friends. He was lucky; he told me once that was how he wanted to go. If he'd waited, this film would have killed him.