Reviews

Let me tell you just how good "A Beautiful Mind" really is. I have a kidney disorder that makes it necessary for me to visit the restroom every hour. I was on the verge of exploding halfway through this movie and yet I didn't move for fear of missing even three minutes of this fascinating event. (As soon as the closing credits rolled, I ran.)

"Mind's" greatest achievement, in my humble opinion, is the way it makes schizophrenia accessible to sane people. The general public knows schizophrenics tend to talk to themselves, repeat certain actions and do things generally at odds with the norm. But why? It's nearly impossible for a sane individual to understand why this happens...and more importantly, what that feels like. Without this essential empathy, many people become frustrated with the mentally ill, asking why patients can't pull themselves together and just bear up. We express this same impatience with the criminally insane who act upon delusions with disastrous results. It is incomprehensible.

"Mind" does all it can to change that, and it succeeds. Unless you are familiar with John Nash's story, you probably won't guess he's schizophrenic until partway into the movie. He's eccentric, abrupt, and highly intelligent, but doesn't seem crazy. The reason: His delusions are as real as reality to Nash, and likewise, they are real to the audience. *(SPOILER)* I suspected the decoding fantasies weren't real, especially when Nash began postering the walls with newspaper clippings. But his fictictious roommate threw me---and there is the point. The audience is just as fooled by the delusion as Nash is, who cannot tell the difference between truth and delusion.

Incidentally, I came across a professional review that blasted "Mind" for including "all that spying stuff that had nothing to do with Nash's work that was thrown in for Hollywood thrill." I feel badly for that chap, since he missed the entire point of the film. But that just proves Ron Howard's genius in creating a picture of insanity indistinguishable from reality.

There are some truly shocking moments in "Mind." When Alicia finds her husband's secret cache of newspaper clippings behind their house, I was eerily reminded of Jack Nicholson's wife in "The Shining" discovering his endless, typewritten pages of the same phrase. The scene that follows, culminating with Nash's realization that his delusions are indeed a false reality is brilliant. In a moment, remembering "Marcie," Nash has a flash of insight, and he finally accepts his illness--ironically, through his intellect.

When Nash imagines that someone is going to kill Alicia, he lunges at her--and only through his eyes do we see how a seemingly senseless actof violence is a gesture of love, filtered through the smog of delusion.

Now my take on the acting: Superb in every sense of the word. Russell Crowe sure knows his trade. There's never any question about the authenticity of his character, although the accent wasn't consistant. Crowe doesn't rely on his elaborate makeup to age Nash---his walk, words, and voice do that elegantly in the movie's end. Crowe will probably get at least another Oscar nomination out of this one. Heck, he might even win it again.

Ed Harris is, as always, perfect. Harris continues to be one of my favorite actors, simply because he's flawless. With delusions like these, no wonder Nash was torn between treatment and "spying."

I hope people see this film. Not just because Russell Crowe is cute or because it's a Ron Howard piece, but because you will learn something important. You will learn why compassion is an absolute must when dealing with the mentally ill. You won't glare at the next person you see muttering to themself. And when someone you love is dealing with a disorder, be it schizophrenia or depression, you won't ask them to "pull themself together." You will understand why they need your love--because they are just as confused as you are.

A very shocking and disturbing movie, The Crying Game was not at all what I expected. Set in the heated world of IRA terrorists, the film introduces us to Fergis, a kidnaper who loves his country but finds he can't kill for it. His friendship with his hostage, played by Forest Whitaker, is convincing, and indeed a thought-provoking idea. When Whitaker is killed, it is a riveting, surprising, but somehow grateful tragedy: Fergis did not have to face his conflict and shoot him.

Perhaps the most shocking moment in the movie (okay, it definitely IS the most shocking) is that abrupt scene between Fergis and his man-woman. I had thankfully NOT seen a review of this movie before renting it, so my surprise was sudden and complete. Fergis's reaction to this strange "discovery" is understandable, and although he still cares for Dil, it is in a different way than before. This situation left me wondering how exactly one would deal with that; Dil suggests that Fergis kiss her and "pretend," when he obliges she encourages more, and Fergis acknowledges, "I can't pretend that far." Dil's hidden sexuality is foreshadowed subtlely by clues I missed the first time around: Jody mentions Jude "wasn't his type," Dil stops Fergis from going too far while kissing (so when she insists he knew she was a man, we are led to believe he did not know--she wouldn't let him know.)

However one may dwell on the unusual relationship defined in The Crying Game, there are other issues at stake here: the fight for humanity and country, the choice between one's self and one's love, the conflict between freedom and righteousness. This movie presents such a tangible taste of these moral dilemmas, I recommend it to all.

Some of my generation have pegged Citizen Kane as boring and out-dated. Perhaps it is like Crime and Punishment or some equally long and laborious book: it is important, revolutionary, but not thrilling if you aren't completely into that kind of thing. However, as an American I thought it my duty to watch Citizen Kane, which is considered a "timeless classic." Incidentally, Kane is Number One on the AFI Top 100 list--bu the best movie of all time did not even receive the Oscar that year!!! This certainly exemplifies the differences in opinion here. I enjoyed this movie because of its tragic nature: Kane's sad fall from grace and innocence, brought on by the lust for power and wealth. At one point, Kane says, " yes, I bought many...things." And he sounds regretful. I suddenly realized we do buy so many things that do NOT bring us the happiness we anticipated. Kane lacks the one thing he cannot buy-love, and ultimately no one can survive without it.

Perhaps the most famous scene in all of cinematic history, the closing shot of the Rosebud sled is at once the saddest and most riveting I believe I've seen. In that moment we see how that young boy in the snow, ripped from his parents, succombed to corruption and greed, and died as alone as he felt when taken from his parents.

One of the most overall pleasing movies I've seen, Scent of a Woman wins on all levels--emotional and intellectual. Of course the primary reason it succeeds is Al Pacino, whose Oscar was well-deserved, needless to say. Chris O'Donnell doesn't overplay his part, and in doing so is realistic and natural. The tango scene, the Ferrari scene, the pseudo-courtroom scene are excellent. Pacino is wholly believable, and although at first he seems overly gruff and nasty, we grow to sympathize with him--especially when that twerp Randy insults him cutthroat-style at Thanksgiving. It's obvious that while Slade acts like he doesn't care, his repetitious "hoo-ha" response makes it obvious he does. My favorite line comes during the Ferrari scene (I was laughing so hard when the cop left, failing to realize Slade is blind.) As Slade careens down the street at 70 mph, Charlie yells, "You're going to get us killed!" Slade answers, "Can you blame me? I'm blind!" On that note, Pacino succeeds marvellously in portraying a blind man. We never doubt for a second that he does, in fact, live in total darkness. Yet others, like the cop, probably the spectators in the restaurant in the tango scene, don't realize it. Ironically enough, Slade acts as though he doesn't want to be treated as the proverbial blind man who needs a cane and a guiding arm. However, in the final scene, he emerges with a never-before-seen pair of dark glasses (after which follows the charismatic speech.) I wonder, was this to throw them off guard??

This movie is a modern classic. Some find it too long, but I enjoyed every minute and didn't acutely notice the 2 1/2 hrs gone by. A wonderful film that I recommend to all.