Mike Nichols directs Tony Kushner's nearly 6-hour adaptation of his award-winning play like a man possessed: this miniseries for HBO is unlike anything ever attempted for cable-TV. It is a fiery, hellbent, go-for-broke piece of work that is so visceral, so charged with adrenaline, that one may be apt to overlook the flaws in the play's conception (also the fact the characters aren't particularly likable). The film isn't pointed, and it isn't gripping in a focused way; Kushner's aim is to be explosive, to be dynamic and outrageous, and indeed there are some pretty amazing sequences here after an awkward start. While following a 1985/Reagan-era group of New Yorkers through passion, betrayal, sickness, delusion, rage, acceptance and death, we learn many complicated things about the human spirit--and beyond. "Angels" is masterfully done from a cinematic standpoint; however, I was hard-pressed to find anyone here I genuinely cared about (funniest is Meryl Streep's fabulous incarnation of a dislocated Mormon mother from Salt Lake City, who counteracts impertinence with persnickety impatience). Nichols delivers a great-looking work, but will it change lives? Will it rewrite perceptions? Probably not. Emotionally, it is stunted--and, though quite literate, somehow callow. 21 Emmy nominations with 11 wins. *** from ****
Review of Angels in America
