Reviews

One of the greatest and most wonderful surprises of 1999, "The Love Letter" is a sparkling little film. Held back by a remarkably asinine trailer--which manages to combine the three or four dull, brief moments in the movie--the picture is a warm-hearted, eminently watchable tale. I had assiduously avoided the flick because of that very trailer, but ended up having to watch "The Love Letter" on an 11 hour flight from Seoul to Vancouver. I could easily have watched it three times--it's that much fun.

Kate Capshaw is bent and broken-down but somehow manages to be both incredibly lovable and believable. Tom Everett Scott is absolutely priceless in his role as a confused young hunk. but any damage they may have done to the overall film is negated by the superb performances of Scott and Capshaw. Sure, it's not worthy of an Oscar. But neither was "Shakespeare in Love", and look what happened there.

This excellent, though aging badly, film, is well worth digging out of the dusty shelves of your video store. It's definitely not highbrow fare, but this story of an earnest 15 year old's relationship with his sexy French housekeeper is certainly watchable.

Although the subject matter is actually quite serious, many moments in the movie will have you laughing out loud. Patrick Piccininni is priceless as the best friend of the 15 year old Phillip, who eggs him on. Eric Brown is even better as Phillip, who isn't quite sure how to respond to his housekeeper's advances.

"Private Lessons" is more than just a reversed-role "Lolita"--it's far more entertaining to watch. It does, however, join a whole series of fairly predictable teen guy-and-teacher/housekeeper movies like "My Tutor". What I especially like about this film, though, is that it doesn't have the heavy air of moral judgment hanging around it. The characters are depicted as perfectly-capable agents of their own will, which is extremely refreshing. It was hard to watch "Private Lessons", though, without looking back on my teen years and longing to be in Phillip's shoes!

With the exception of that home video my ex made with her new boyfriend, "Dogfight" is the most upsetting film I've ever watched. The plot involves US Marines bound for duty (and possibly death) in Vietnam, having one last night on the town in San Francisco. As a challenge to each other, the lads partcipate in a game called dogfight, where the guy who brings the ugliest date (the "biggest dog") wins.

Even more disgusting than the game itself is the way Lili Taylor's character, the gentle Rose, gets roped in--eagerly getting dressed up and even touching up her makeup before the contest. It breaks the viewer's heart to see a young woman so trusting walk into something so degrading.

Without spoiling the plot for those who haven't seen the film (you owe it to yourself to do so) it's assumed there is always chance for redemption. River Phoenix, who died tragically just two years after the film's release, is memorable as a soldier who struggles with human contact. And Lili Taylor absolutely shines as the victimized but amazingly forgiving Rose, though it's hard to accept her as "ugly"--I think Lili Taylor is really cute and I'd give anything to go on a date with her.

This cute, and very watchable, little film is distinctive for one main reason: it's one of the few flicks in which John Cusack didn't drag his sister Joan to appear alongside him. Otherwise, it's fairly predictable, falling into both the "classic teen love story" and the "stock John Cusack" categories.

Like two other Cusack films, "Sixteen Candles" and "Say Anything", "The Real Thing" features a well-meaning youth besotten with a girl who's way out of his league. As with most teen films, she's blonde, gorgeous, and entirely undeserving of such a lovable fellow. And as might be expected, the presence of the former two qualities overrides the latter, and Cusack treks halfway across America to sow his wild oats.

Along the way, he meets up with a kindhearted brunette (she's not blonde, but she has Daddy's Amex card, and that's gotta count for something) who helps him out of various jams. Of course, at this point, the story spirals downward into stereotype: Cusack suddenly realizes that the girl for him isn't the one he's been pursuing, but the one who's been at his side all along.

This "grass isn't always greener" is of course a stock formula in Hollywood: Reese Witherspoon helped Paul Rudd in his quest for Christine Taylor in "Overnight Delivery", only to win him herself. Jennifer Love Hewitt, Will Friedle's best pal in "Trojan War", wins out over blonde vixen Marley Shelton, (though it's hard to understand why the ultrabusty Hewitt wouldn't be every guy's first choice). And in another best friend turned best girl scenario,"Some Kind of Wonderful", Mary Stuart Masterson displaces Lea Thompson in Eric Stoltz's heart.

Shot as a public-service film for brunettes with self-esteem problems, "The Sure Thing" is decidedly middle of the pack as teen love stories go. Cusack is always convincing as an earnest young teen, though his female co-stars can't quite achieve the desperate-to-be-loved aura that Masterson perfected. Cusack fans should be sure to check this one out, but only after priming themselves with some better examples of the genre.

First of all, let me say I did NOT find this film scary. A few kids in the woods jumping around when they hear noises does not send me shrieking to the concession counter for something to calm my nerves. This film is definitely tense, grating and suspenseful, but not scary. The problem is, of course, that the premise is nonsensical. Those of us over 7, who realize witches do not exist outside campus sororities, will not be alarmed at a few tree branches rustling outside a tent.

On the other hand, your girlfriend will probably go bananas watching this film. Five minutes of tension and she'll be clinging to you like you're the last donut at a policeman's ball. (That might not be a bad thing...)

Despite the inherent silliness of the plot, top marks go to Heather Donahue. Not since Pamela Lee's plastic surgeon has anyone done do much with so little. Donahue is an incredibly talented actress, who deserves to win an Oscar for this role (yes, you read right..she's that good) and she would, if the Academy didn't keep dishing out the hardware for drivel like "Shakespeare in Love."

In conclusion, do see this film. Ignore the jiggly camera, the bizarre lenswork and the overacting of Heather's male co-stars. Introduce yourself to Miss Donahue. This lady is something special.

I really don't know how to react to this film. It was semi-enjoyable, even blatantly "fun" in a few places. Yet on the other hand there were a number of problems that grate on the intelligent viewer.

"Deep Blue Sea" is great in a number of places. As in "Halloween H20", LL Cool J performs above expectations, and is a welcome sight whenever he is onscreen. Samuel L. Jackson, in the all-too-brief time he is in the film, does a superb job. The setting of the film is also striking and compelling.

On the other hand, the mechanical sharks looked blatantly mechanical, even comical in places. (Perhaps that was the effect Warner Bros. was going for?) The opening scene, where spilled red wine attracts a hungry shark, was horribly wrong--a fourth grader could have spotted the error. (Sharks are NOT attracted to spilled red wine because it looks like blood. Sharks' eyesight is poor. They SMELL blood in the water. Red wine means nothing!) Finally, Saffron Burrows, another British chick who is convinced she is the greatest actress who has ever lived, is nauseating every moment she is onscreen. When her character gets chewed to bits by an oversized mako, it was all I could do not to stand up and cheer.

My recommendation: See "Deep Blue Sea", but wait for the dollar theatre.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's hope this is only the first pairing for the comedy team of Dan Hedaya, Kirsten Dunst and Michelle Williams. "Dick" is one of the funniest films of the year, and this trio of stars shines every second of celluloid.

As always, Hedaya (a hilarious yet lovable Dick Nixon) gives a top performance--grouchy, human and hilarious, even topping the blustering lawyer father he played opposite Alicia Silverstone in "Clueless". Dan Hedaya in the cast is your assurance of a great evening at the movies. Take my word for it.

Almost as wonderful are the comic antics of Kirsten and Michelle (I'm still hoping I will eventually have reason to call them by their first names on a regular basis) as ditzy, sexy "historical giants." Kirsten plays the same horny/scheming/horny lass she was in the excellent film "Strike!", although the 1970s fashions are a groovy new bonus. Winning my heart for the evening, though, was "Dawson's Creek" sweetie Michelle Williams, who plays a tenderhearted teenager with a jones for the Dickster.

DO NOT MISS THIS FILM!! If you are in Bolivia, in jail or if your wife refuses to raise your allowance so you can afford a movie ticket, then you have an excuse. If not, and you miss "Dick", you are a moron. Oh, and by the way--stay for the credits--the lollipop scene will heat up your summer!

It's little wonder that such incredible secrecy surrounded "Eyes Wide Shut" before it opened. Had anyone known anything about this film, they would have been able to avoid it. Unfortunately for us all, millions of well-intentioned souls (including myself) went to the multiplex wondering what the fuss was about and ended up getting burned.

The billing that this is a Stanley Kubrick picture is a major misnomer. Anyone who's seen other Kubrick work will agree this is an AWFUL letdown and a horrible end to a fine career. A fifth grader with a camcorder and a piano (that constant one-note in the soundtrack was very annoying) could have produced this film--in fact, could have produced a much finer piece of cinema.

The major problem with the film, as you will agree, is Nicole Kidman. The first image we see in the movie is Kidman's naked posterior, and the camera basically pans over her semi-nude frame the entire two and a half hours. There really isn't a moment in the movie when Kidman's nipples (cute, I must admit) aren't on display. My question is: if Nicole wanted so badly to display her body to the public, why didn't she just make a home video like Pamela Lee? The acting in the Lee family video was more heartfelt and honest than anything in "Eyes Wide Shut."

"Eyes Wide Shut" is the cinematic equivalent of sitting at a bus station, watching people come and go. Scores of potentially interesting people walk onscreen in the film, but they are never around long enough for us to find out anything about them. Instead, we are treated to Nicole as pothead, Nicole as pinup girl, Nicole laughing hysterically, schoolmarmish Nicole eating breakfast.

The "brain trust" (I use that term loosely) behind this movie obviously intended it as a touching exploration of the issues of honesty, trust, fidelity and sexuality. Unfortunately, that could never be accomplished with this cast of characters--there is not a single likable soul in this film. The aforementioned Nicole, Dr. Tom (would you trust your health to a guy who smokes pot and tries to sleep with hookers?), the creepy business types who serve as foils for Tom in an effort to make him look noble, and a completely pointless cameo by Leelee Sobieski in bra and panties that sends the movie on a totally unrelated tangent. (Are her boobs really that small?) It all adds up to two and a half hours of confusion, agitation and frustration for the moviegoer.

This charming little picture is the latest in a flock of stock high school productions. (Ever wonder why all the "teen" flicks are about high school? At least in my experience, junior high was FAR funnier and sexier than anything in high school.)

The problem with "Never Been Kissed" is not just that the storyline is yawningly predictable. (Outcast girl meets handsome older guy who sees her as a hidden gem and sweeps her away.) The bigger deficiency is the casting--for one, we are supposed to accept lovable, agonizingly sexy little Drew Barrymore as a mousy outcast. NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! In real life, anybody as adorable as Drew would be on the receiving end of sloppy kisses from every dude in the history of the school who ever wore a jock strap. Try as you will, Drew honey--and this was a good effort--you just ain't unpopular or undesirable. (I would have cast Janeane Garofalo or Christina Ricci in the lead role.)

A similar problem plagues would-be calculus nerd Leelee Sobieski. If you can get past the ridiculous name, Sobieski is actually a good actress. A great actress. (Check her out in "A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries." Your TV will explode.) Sobieski suffers from what one writer suggested is "Emily Bergl Syndrome"--she's WAY TOO HOT to be an outcast. Sobieski and Barrymore as unlovable nerds? It takes one to know one, and angels, you definitely don't make the cut. Unfortunately, the creators of "Never Been Kissed" made the identical mistake as the director of "She's All That"--casting an ultra-cutie as a despised nerd. (Rachael Leigh Cook did a swimsuit shot in the June issue of MAXIM and I almost had a coronary.)

Anyway, as my testosterone tachometer slides back to normal level, let me suggest "10 Things I Hate About You." It wasn't as popular as "Never Been Kissed" or "She's All That", but it's far funnier, more creative and more enjoyable to watch.

The latest in the series of inane food product movies (following "Canadian Bacon"), "American Pie" will leave you feeling like you've been smacked in the face with one. Universal Studios took a poorly-written, typical teen script and made it worse with hideous casting and lousy directing.

"American Pie" is a sadistic, mocking film that seems to savor the pain it is causing the theatregoing public, many of whom have been dragged to the multiplex by their dates. The humour is definitely of the New York City sewer variety, and this film's creators seem to be in a competition to outdo the morons who made "There's Something About Mary" and "Big Daddy" in terms of crudeness.

This might just be a simple sleazefest if it were not for the absolutely hideous choice of actors. Trust me--these clowns make the brats at "South Park" look sensitive and deep. Natasha Lyonne, with her hair looking like she just stuck a finger in a light socket, and her whiny "I'm a goddess" performance leaving you wishing she had. Chris Klein, who was only cast in this film because the producers couldn't come to contract terms with a potted plant. Chris Owen, who is only suited for silent cameos, is given a speaking part. (Aaargh!) Alyson Hannigan, whose character swings wildly between slut and sweetie, is obviously way in over her head. And is it just me, or is the viewing public weary of hearing Tara Reid philosophize about oral sex? To make matters worse, we actually have to watch her head bobbing around as she performs it! Should we be forcing teenagers to watch such a disturbing visual image? It could turn them off sex forever.

The best line of the movie--and the one you'll be repeating as you gaze into your wallet after the movie--is the one uttered by the jock when he wakes up in bed alone: "I was used!"

"Big Daddy" has the misfortune of premiering in 1999, when the field for Most Pathetic Film of the Year is loaded with flicks like "Idle Hands" and the runaway winner so far, "Baby Geniuses". But give Adam Sandler credit: He took a decent budget, backing from a historic studio and a couple of well-respected co-stars and managed to come up with the most disgusting, stupid and unwatchable piece of cinematic garbage this summer.

"Big Daddy" is a profanity-laced, bodily-fluid-soaked wasteland of a film with no redeeming value whatsoever. Instead of thoughtful, amusing or touching scenes and dialogue, the viewer is treated to an endless display of urine and vomit cascading forth from the confused little lad at the centre of the proceedings. Basically, this film is a ruder "There's Something About Mary", only this time the butt of jokes is five years old. There's something more than a little disturbing about masses of adults and teenagers paying $8.50 to laugh at a little boy vomiting.

The only reason this film got made, of course, is because it serves a higher purpose as 90 minute recruiting video for Hooters restaurants. The Hooter Girl and "big bust" jokes are funny for the first five minutes, but quickly grow tiresome as Sandler uses them over and over.

Sadly wasted in this film are the significant talents of Rob Schneider and Steve Buscemi, both of whom perform admirably in minor roles. Unfortunately, the two are onscreen far too briefly to provide any sort of counterweight to the sorry mess created by Sandler and co-stars Joey Lauren Adams and Leslie Mann. Adams, who possesses a voice reminiscent of a hysterical toddler, tries desperately to be lovable, but falls far short. Mann's Corrine--whom we are supposed to believe worked her way through medical school as a Hooter Girl--provided the greatest levity of the evening. Her character is far too malicious to have ever succeeded as a waitress, and a Hooters job at that? I've seen a bigger bustline on a Bulgarian gymnast.

Whatever creativity and humanity Adam Sandler had in films like "The Wedding Singer" has been completely lost. With "Big Daddy", he has shown he is completely out of ideas.

A deeply moving and skillful film, "The General's Daughter" succeeds in getting outstanding performances from every single member of its cast. John Travolta has perhaps his finest role ever as a straight-arrow army investigator, and Madeleine Stowe is convincing and razor-sharp as Travolta's partner/ex-girlfriend/bane of existence. As well, James Woods steals the show with a top-flite performance as a colonel suspected of murder.

Th real treat, here, though, is the short but passionate portrayal of Captain Elisabeth Campbell by Leslie Stefanson, a brilliant find. Stefanson superbly manages to capture the tragic extremes that tear apart her character--the stiff army inhumanity that restrains her, and the terrified little girl lurking underneath her skin.

An outstanding and brilliant performance by all involved propel "The General's Daughter" into serious Oscar contention.

As my many ex-girlfriends will testify, on the surface "Notting Hill" does not appear to be my type of movie. Cars do not explode, female co-stars do not kiss and nobody says "Do I make you horny, baby?" in a British accent. In fact, I fully expected to be "notting off" within the first five minutes.

However, when I actually worked up the courage to hand over my free admission coupon at the box office, I was pleasantly surprised by what I found. Granted, this is no "BASEketball"--if you're looking for an in-depth exploration of human relationships, "Notting Hill" isn't your movie. But if you just want a pleasant little film that will make you smile, chuckle and feel warm fuzzies all over (or maybe that was just an allergic reaction to the upholstery), this is it.

What surprised me most was the sensitive, sweet (and watchable!) performance by Julia Roberts. After her array of sappy roles, I expected Julia to annoy the daylights out of me, but instead found myself won over by her sincerity. And as always, Hugh Grant was at once charming, funny and winsome.

I was amazed by how well Julia and Hugh worked together in a relief role (the original casting was to be myself and Leelee Sobieski, but evidently my salary demands were too much). Let's hope we see more of this fantastic pairing in the future.

This cute little film had one primary purpose: provide more exposure for Jennifer Love Hewitt, and encourage folks to watch her disappointing "Last Summer" flicks at the multiplex.

Well, something went terribly wrong with that simple plan, because along the way an amazingly enjoyable film got made. Will Friedle (of TV's "Boy Meets World, and at the time JLH's real-life boyfriend) plays a likable high school student who lucks out when the adorable little blonde he's tutoring (the sadly underexposed Marley Shelton) decides to give him a break.

As he frantically takes Los Angeles apart searching for a condom (yes, that's what "Trojan" in the title refers to) his best bud JLH is realizing she wants to be more than just friends. Aside from the horrible case of envy I developed (Will Friedle got to kiss JLH both on and off-screen!) I had a lot of fun watching the result.

If you're a parent, the additional good news is that this is one of the few flicks out there (surprisingly) in which the characters don't jump into bed without practising safe sex. That shows that at least there's SOME hope for Hollywood.

This is a warm, fun little movie that deserves a lot more exposure than it has received. If you don't mind a little spicy dialogue (and what thinking person does?) it's a great film for movie night with your teens.

What I especially enjoyed about "Overnight Delivery" was the superb casting of three terrific stars (Reese Witherspoon from "Cruel Intentions", Paul Rudd, whom I really enjoyed in "Clueless" and Christine Taylor, whom most people will remember as Marcia in "The Brady Bunch Movie.") Also memorable are the ongoing appearances of a bumbling but hilariously lovable delivery man.

Not a flick to be missed.

This creative little film straddles an extremely fine line between disgustingly insensitive and side-splitting hilarious. I assiduously avoided this film in the theatres because I don't feel (does this make me a prude?) that suicide is really a laughing matter. However, when I finally rented the film I realized it had less to do with death than good old college hijinks.

Be warned: The opening credits are fairly offensive, with how-to diagrams on the various methods of teen suicide. But once the film itself gets underway, likable roommates/felons/numbskulls Josh and Cooper will quickly win the viewer over to the movie's lighthearted look at post-secondary "education" in America.

The most hilarious aspect of this film--the part that kept me chuckling long after I'd returned the video--is the way it takes popular stereotypes and runs with them. The paranoid computer geek, the dim college co-eds hopping from bed to bed, and the moronic party animal in the frat house are all played to great comic effect. (The funniest scene features an angst-ridden young rocker bloke who's almost too cartoonish to be real.)

On a more serious note, as a member of an interracial couple myself it was a rare treat to see a number of such couples presented in the film. It's not often that such pairings appear onscreen without being the center of attention for their "novelty." The producers at Paramount should be congratulated for presenting these couples as if they were the most natural and normal thing in the world--as they are!

First of all let me stress that I'm a HUGE Austin fan. When Mike Myers created the character in 1997, I was thrilled, discovering to my great relief that "one can have bad teeth and still be a sex symbol." (Do I make you horny, baby?) Although it was also incredibly hilarious, the first Austin flick was so much fun because it was genuinely lovable--the innocence and naivete of our hero made for a winning combination.

Now Powers is back, in the same hideous lenses on loan from Lisa Loeb. Unfortunately, Austin has lost much of the friendliness and charm that made the 1997 movie so terrific. The storyline has degenerated into a non-stop parade of penis sight gags and double entendres. (Granted, there were some similar jokes in the first film, but "The Spy Who Shagged Me" has gone completely overboard, substituting groin-oriented humour for creative plot development.) It's sad to see Mike Myers so enthusiastically embracing the "style" of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, since Myers is the far more talented comedian.

There are a couple of high points: Dr. Evil skewers a number of deserving targets, such as Will Smith's nauseating ballad "Just the Two of Us" and the 1996 ridicuflick "Jerry Maguire". And Heather Graham--sadly without her roller skates--manages to upstage her leading man in an enjoyable role as a sexy swinger. Overall, though, this latest Austin is a letdown, even for Powers loyalists like yours truly. Hopefully the next installment in the franchise (I can't believe I just said that) gets a better effort from Myers and his writers.

This film is a sad and pathetic waste of time. It was also a tragic waste of valuable studio resources, which could have gone into something more productive, like another Jennifer Love Hewitt movie.

But seriously, aside from the needless bloodshed and property destruction, this movie is nothing more than a two-hour long tribute to the human wonder that (we are supposed to believe) is Mel Gibson. One look into those steely eyes of his and we are supposed to accept that he is the greatest, bravest, sexiest actor who ever lived. Of course, that's nowhere near the truth. Everybody knows the greatest actor who has ever lived is Sarah Michelle Gellar.

But I digress. On to the sexist drivel. Ever notice that with every action film, the girls can dish it out, but they never can take it? We are treated to countless scenes in "Payback" of the sexy female gangster beating males bloody, but not a hair on her head is harmed. I guess in Hollywoodland, it's perfectly laudable for women to be perpetrators of violence but it's completely unacceptable for them to be victims of it.

Yes, I realize that BAD guys in movies do beat up on women. But haven't you ever noticed that no matter how evil a female character is portrayed as being, she is NEVER offed by the good guy?

"Baby Geniuses" poses by far the greatest threat to moviegoers in 1999, Annette Bening's "In Dreams" notwithstanding.

First, this pseudo-comedy possesses a heretofore unseen capacity to completely waste your time--two perfectly good hours that you could have spent on something far more constructive for society, like playing video games. Second, "Baby Geniuses" is basically completely inane fluff that makes "BASEketball" look like a brilliant exploration of the human condition. Consisting of tired Culkinesque "kick the adult in the groin" sight gags, "Baby Geniuses" is embarrassingly unfunny. Third, and most worrisome, this flick has the potential to create havoc with population control. After enduring two hours of these insufferable little brats, most viewers will opt for immediate tubal ligation. On the other hand, the tiny Carrie Robbins character (played by the most adorable little twins imaginable) was SO SWEET I decided to run out and impregnate my girlfriend.

This is an AWFUL, PAINFUL film, and I just hope I've been able to warn you in time. With so many drawbacks (lame plotline, silly dialogue, Kathleen Turner and Peter MacNicol as main characters, poor special effects: the babies' computer-simulated mouths are completely out of sync with their words) it's amazing this film got made at all. Oh, wait, it's a Sony picture. That explains everything.

What is happening to my beloved Columbia? The hallowed studio with the pretty lady logo once stood for quality--for well-crafted films and professionalism.

"Stepmom" is the latest in a string of horrible misjudgments ("Idle Hands", "Gloria", "8MM"), compounded by the fact that a lead role in the film was given to Susan Sarandon, an amateurish actor of questionable ability. There is not a single moment in this movie where Sarandon does not attempt to draw unnecessary attention to herself.

As if one callous, whiny and completely-devoid-of-humanity character weren't enough, Sarandon's Jackie is joined by a daughter, played by Jena Malone. Malone's Anna becomes nauseating even more quickly than Jackie, if that's possible. (Just when I thought I was innoculated against the last batch of misandristic female characters, along comes a new strain.) The sad fact about what could have been an interesting film is that the entire plot is simplified to a Dick and Jane level. Anna and Jackie are portrayed as so cruel and unreasonable, it's impossible to see any value in them at all. Instead of a thoughtful exploration of the issues raised by divorce and remarriage, the film turns into a pep rally for the same old good little girl played by Julia Roberts. It's disheartening that Columbia could only evoke understanding for her character by making the other females cartoonish and stupid.

The other disappointing aspect of "Stepmom" is its sexist double standard. It's strange how when female characters divorce their spouses and move on, they are usually presented in a heroic light ("Message in a Bottle", "The Good Mother", "First Wives' Club") but when a man decides to begin a new life after a divorce, he's portrayed as committing the unpardonable sin. Is Hollywood's case of estrogen poisoning that acute?

It never bodes well for a film when, as you enter the theatre, you overhear the ticket girl say that the flick you're about to take in is "the dumbest she's ever seen." I can't complain: I received fair warning when there was still plenty of time to run for the exit, as I probably should have done when I went on my first date with my ex-girlfriend.

But I digress. Or maybe not. "The Mod Squad" is a bizarre film that, like your relationship with your ex-girlfriend, leaves you wondering just what you were thinking when you decided to waste part of your life on it. I was lured to this film by a misleadingly interesting trailer, which bears no resemblance to the actual (lousy) flick in question.

A few questions for MGM: Was there an actual screenplay here, or did the actors just make up things as they went along? Couldn't you have been the least bit creative and replaced the same old movie villains (smarmy drug dealers and suave pimps) with believably dangerous characters (like feminists and Democrats)? Did you actually think that one glimpse of Claire Danes in a black bodysuit was enough to make up for rotten acting, confusing plotline and ridiculous premise? (All right, maybe it was.) And finally, how could a company with "GM" in its name make such a lousy product?

I've seen a number of creative, enjoyable films already this year, but "The Other Sister" outdoes them all. If this film doesn't win at least two or three Oscars next year, we'll know for sure the Academy is completely out of touch with reality. (Best Actress--Juliette Lewis, Best Actor--Giovanni Ribisi, Best Picture)

To be honest, I usually don't attend films of this type--which appear on the surface to be hammering some heavy message into their audiences. I couldn't have been more wrong about this movie. It is touching, gentle, warm and enthusiastic. Juliette Lewis is both believable and heart-rending in her role as the mentally challenged Carla. I don't usually like Giovanni Ribisi, but I have to take my hat off to his exceptional performance as the young man who works his way into Carla's heart.

You will laugh, cry, feel compelled to bring your friends, and be heartened that even after "Gloria" and "In Dreams", SOMEBODY in Hollywood still knows how to put a film together.

I can't remember being more puzzled by any film. Just what is the plot, purpose or message, if any? "Election" appears to be nothing more than a string of porno clips pasted together, with the actual 'election' merely a speed bump in the bed-hopping. What we see is the beginning of a semi-interesting theme, with three very eclectic individuals running for the office of student council president. But instead of developing that plot, which would be logical given the title, moviegoers are instead treated to a diorama of every sexual encounter the candidates have ever had.

I still have no idea what the overall message was. Matthew Broderick can't act? Sleeping with your campaign manager is a good way to lose an election? Having a lesbian sister means you'll never be dateless on Friday night?

Seriously, this movie is so poorly put together, I was visibly embarrassed to be in the theatre. There are only 30 watchable seconds in the flick, when Tammy and Lisa liplock. Unfortunately, that's midway through the film, so you have to go through hell before getting to heaven.

What disappoints me most is the fact Reese Witherspoon had anything to do with it. She was the only reason I went anywhere near the theatre for this one, and I feel betrayed. Reese, honey, how could you do this to me?

Let me preface my comments by saying I enjoyed this movie. It was definitely cute, fun and at one point, side-splitting hilarious. The big problem I have, though, is that it follows the IDENTICAL (aargh!) template to every other teen film ever made, campy Shakepeare references notwithstanding. I must admit I'm getting a wee bit tired of seeing a social outcast having to be convinced to go to the prom/dance/house party (She's All That, Carrie 2) where she can find out she was just a bet (She's All That, Cruel Intentions, Carrie 2), although the striptease on the kitchen table is indeed a new wrinkle. Please, stop putting grunge chicks on the screen and trying to convince me they're the ultimate sex symbols (Carrie 2, The Craft, The Faculty). I already know that. Cease and desist with the nerd wins babe routine (Can't Buy Me Love, The Faculty). I've tried it, it doesn't work.

Couldn't Touchstone, with their oodles of dough, have given us something the least bit creative? That said, I refer you to my opening sentence and tell you I plan to see this flick at least twice more, if only to try and get a glimpse of what Julia Stiles is flashing.