Reviews

Enjoyed reading many other reviewer's comments, especially those who'd experienced schizophrenia themselves or who'd worked as psychiatrists and the like. I've had some acquaintance on a personal level with friends and family who've experienced mental illness -- both bi-polar illness (usually called mania or manic-depressive illness) and schizophrenia. After first seeing the movie and then reading Sylvia Nasar's book, I have very mixed emotions about both. The main "true" thing which comes through in either version -- is that schizophrenics do sometimes recover, or experience long periods of "remission" as the book describes it. Central to this, many times, is the support of family and recognition of professional colleagues. In Nash's case, many many colleagues were exceptionally tolerant and caring -- something more underscored in the book. The movie makes Nash's wife the main hero, plain and simple, in his recovery. The books paints a much more varied and full-bodied story of life with his wife, his mistress, his sons (one by his wife, one by his mistress) -- and of his homosexual liaisons which were also key to his life-long journey towards becoming nicer or more human and humane. The book contains a wealth of detail -- much of it about Nash's contemporaries rather than about his own life; I'd say you get about one-third Nash, two-thirds Nash's acquaintances and company. It's impossible to write a biography, of course, without giving background details. But Nasar had great difficulty making both Nash's personality and his so-called "Beautiful Mind" comprehensible or appealing. A lot of what he did and thought was more ugly than beautiful. A different title would have helped greatly, I think. Anyway, Nasar's way of coping with writing about Nash himself was to take refuge in describing those around him who were less successful but easier to describe, or who were more extreme in personality or who achieved greater acclaim before he did. She wants to show that he, to some extent, ranks with the greatest thinkers of any time -- people like Nicola Tesla, Einstein, Pascal. This may be true, and when she showed how Nash sought to approach the really knotty problems, especially those considered important by many people -- it works. But Nasar is terrible at explaining math in its particulars or in general. She does little better with the relationship between math and applied-math fields which so often involved Nash directly or ended up being important to the application of what he'd originated as so-called pure mathematics. I was ready to forgive the movie for this -- and while it gives only a suggestion of the math involved, at least it does this well, even exceptionally -- but not the book. There are close to one-hundred pages of notes at the end of Nasar's books -- and seeking those sources is the only hope for those intrigued by Nash's accomplishments or areas of research. The best "story" of the book, the only part well-narrated, comes near the end, and involves the Noble Prize and the fight between the Noble committee members over choosing Nash. It's a great story. In the book, after it becomes clear Nash has shown signs of recovering from schizophrenia, a slow and steady progression over ten or twenty years -- Nasar raises the question of whether Nash might have been misdiagnosed as schizophrenic. No one recovers from schizophrenia, especially without drugs -- that's what people used to think, many still do -- and both book and movie mention this belief. Manic-depression, however, is known to often be well-controlled with medications. I've had direct contact with manic-depressives and relatives of them, much more so than with schizophrenics -- to me there's no question that Nash was not a manic-depressive. On the other hand, from all indications, Nash was someone who suffered, at times severely, from schizophrenia, with paranoid delusions. The paranoid element of his illness may be to some degree realistically and imaginatively treated in the movie. Where the movie strays very far from the truth, in a sort of Disney way, is in the creation of his imaginary college roommate and then later with the roommate's cute little daughter who never ages. Nash never had any hallucinations or delusions of that sort; he imagined aliens were communicating with him, and felt he'd gained knowledge which would help world leaders, presidents and premiers, and even sought to communicate with the Pope. He did clip headlines from newspapers and magazines, as the movie depicts -- in connection with this paranoid-delusional obsession. The character of the roommate is well-acted, however; I personally felt it was an excellent performance. But, be that as it may, especially with the addition of the roommate's daughter, it makes for the movie's major failing. What results is a cuddly and almost kindergarten-level metaphor or simplification as part of the portrait of both the disease and of Nash's experience of it. When I watched the film, despite never having personally known or witnessed someone with schizophrenia -- I had a feeling schizophrenics and their families would find those sequences of the film offensive or simply ridiculously untrue to life. Reading other reviewers' comments, that hunch seems well justified. Nonetheless, granting that the movie departs in some large ways from the real events of Nash's life, and blunders badly with the phantom roommate element -- it's still a great film. Great movies and great books often do have blunders, sometimes serious ones, or weak sections. In this case, I think the movie especially can be forgiven its faults and distortions because of the challenge of portraying such difficult subjects. By that I mean not only Nash himself, as a personality, but more broadly the topics of advanced mathematics and schizophrenia. Secondly, it does have its heart in the right place -- the patient and loving care of family and friends can play a major role in helping mentally-ill people (not to exclude the role of doctors and medical treatments). Finally, I think it's an extraordinary performance by Russell Crowe. He's better in "The Insider" -- but from the all-too-little of what Nash was really like in speech and in personal mannerisms which does at times come through in Nasar's book -- Crowe's portrayal has elements of genius. Certainly the scriptwriter deserves recognition, here, too -- since the book provides mainly the film's title and little in the way of dialog or coherent narrative thrust. Some reviewers have complained that Crowe is too much of a muscle-man to portray such an intellectual. But Nash was strong; he lifted weights -- he was physically imposing, especially since he was quite tall as well. So, if you want to complain on behalf of tall-people that it was unfair to select Crowe to play Nash -- OK. But give the idea that smarts and brawn never go together a rest. Nash was not only tall and strong, but as photos and text in Nasar's biography demonstrate -- quite handsome. He had movie-star good looks when he was young and before his illness led to a decline in his dress and appearance.

This little gem of a low-budget sci-fi, set almost entirely inside the wonderful Frank Lloyd Writer Civic Center in San Rafael, also still looking extremely futuristic and beautiful -- some fifty years or so later -- just gets better and better, as people realize where our current science is going.

An attractive group of stars, Ethan Hawke, Uma Thurman, and Julian Sands -- plus a thoughtful script -- as opposed to a disaster-driven, non-stop actioner. Check it out. People are now being scanned at major events by computers -- the visual recognition technology remains crude at the moment, but digital sound used to be looked upon as inferior, too. Stores want to scan you too, for lots of reasons, and you can bet employers are thrilled with scanning and monitoring you in lots of new ways.

As to digital sound, what happend was -- a few years passed, the sophistication of the digital equipment became a thousand or a million times greater -- and now we're starting to use this same techno-ability to do other things besides creating super-hi-fi sounds. Now we have the beginnings of high-def TV, increasing use of the same technology for cellular phones and lots of other things which were just pipe-dreams a few years ago.

So it's easy to laugh off, but laugh now, laugh well while you can, because the time's just around the corner where this will be our reality.

Just think what will happen five years from now with increased speeds, memory, and improved software -- we may have a situation much like that shown in Gattaca; a genetic's-obsessed society, enabled and enforced with extreme biotech sensors. It's another way of maintaining the power in the hands of the few, decreasing access to democracy and to judicial appeal, etc.

We've already lost democracy, at least at the national level, so erosion of individual rights and privacy will simply accelerate. Dark visions of our future, such as "Gattaca," help brace us for the fight to regain our rights which lies ahead if we are to re-establish a humanitarian society.

Yes, this is an ensemble piece, and a "year in the life of" type of film -- but a fine example of what can be accomplished in this area, for those who appreciate these works. Bullock does act well here -- she's not especially likeable, for several reasons -- but she's believable, and it's one of a handful of roles she's done exceptionally well. Fisher Stevens steals this show, however. And how! He's an entirely winning character -- among a bunch of twenty-somethings who haven't quite figured themselves out, let alone what they want or what makes living worth all the fuss. Many of them are interesting or quite appealing, all the same. Without Stevens setting the counterpoint, a person who wins at life whether he gets what he wants or not, someone who doesn't decide ahead of time what's supposed to happen and how people are supposed to respond to him -- without him in this role, it would be just another story of searching and/or alienation. Not that there haven't been some fine films of just that sort, but this is something more. "When the Party's Over" stands up well alongside such films as "Bob & Ted & Carol & Alice" and the Australian film "Bob's Party" (if I'm remembering the latter's title correctly here). Those films are superficially more entertaining, clearly more commercial, even more conventional -- and more about actual parties and sexual games than this one. But all of them share the same group spirit. In the long run, a decade or more later, it is Fisher Stevens' role as Alexander which lives on in my mind and heart more than any of the others. Nor will I forget Bullock or Rae Dawn Chong and their characters in this film. The story builds slowly, doesn't go where you expect it to or hope it will, but rewards those who are patient and observant.

Bullock fans will be greatly disappointed, wonder why she accepted such a stupid part. Generally the presence of Yaphet Kotto in a film is enough to spark my interest; prior to seeing this film, Bullock had also begun to have that sort of status for me. She is excellent two or three films, but hasn't done much since "Speed" which really merits attention. My brother, who is in the film trade in Hollywood, told me Bullock had fired her manager or agent, after drawing lots of attention for a few successful roles. Apparently this agent was the one who selected roles for Bullock which best brought her charm to the screen. Maybe she felt too stereotyped as "America's Sweetheart" or the next "Audrey Hepburn" -- I don't know. But her business sense, her apparent lack of concern about being given poor roles or stupid and disgusting lines in them, especially in this movie -- have completely destroyed my interest in almost all recent films she's been in. Kotto provides the only light here, in my estimation, and a fine light, too -- but his role comes too late and his presence in too limited to save this junk bucket.

I saw this film with two senior citizens; I'd picked it out from the video store -- which I did frequently for these friends. The husband was in his 80s, his wife her late 60s; both love the theater and have been active in local amateur productions. We all thought this film was exceptional -- in just about every way. Delroy Lindo has a typically rather small part (unfortunately) but manages to be breathtakingly captivating for every moment he's onscreen (also typical for him). But the maturity of the young man, the son who has just seen his parents break up in a rather nasty fashion -- that's what's so outstanding. His presence, his sense-of-self, his ability to steer his way through difficult situations into a growing awareness of what matters and what doesn't. Rarely are teenagers or young twenty-somethings given roles where this is shown. Finding one's way to maturity doesn't usually get such an honest treatment; maybe it's unappealing to teenagers to see it told without the usual Hollywood froo-frah of frat house parties, beer guzzling, and bimbos. Too bad. Yes, this does have a bit of that "play made into a movie" feel to it; but what a play, and what a movie, nonetheless. Hats off to Sam Shepard, and all the other actors and crew for this piece. Shepard himself is not onscreen much, but excellent in the opening as the hot-tempered father. We end up, as the film goes on, seeing Shepard through the character of the son, so much so, he seems to be in almost every scene. Just look in the young man's eyes, how he carries himself, how he appraises himself and others clearly and honestly, but without the usual teenage brashness of expression. He's more the strong, silent type. Maybe you have to be over 30 (I'm 47) to like/love this film. It's kind of a modern-day "noir" film -- except it's not a crime movie; more of an existentialist, Sartre "No Exit" type of work. But it's not exactly that bleak, either: the strength, the resolve of the son, as well as the damaged, semi-paranoid character played by Lindo -- both these men cannot be forgotten, and neither can ultimately be seen as tragic figures. The film's story texture allows for much richer evaluations; it may be raw, it may be rough, but you come away uplifted by what you've witnessed.

If you love to run, really run, then you appreciate the joy of running. Nothing gets you closer to that true spirit than trail running, especially over beautiful terrain like that shown here. As I understand it, Bruce Dern is truly a devoted runner himself -- and he was chosen because no actor -- no matter how good otherwise -- who didn't really like to run, would be right. This film celebrates the Dipsea Race in Marin County, or the Double Dipsea -- a real event for some 40-50 years. It's not called that directly in the film, but otherwise the other things, the location, the handicapping by age, etc., is based on the Dipsea.. So, yes, it's a bit sappy, story-wise, but the sheer fun and adventure of the sport come through -- as opposed to the mad, adrenaline-driven competitiveness of track running (which has its place, too, God love it). The gloriousness of the scenery after running uphill for three or four miles: It's all here, guys! If you know the area, if you've been to the top of Mt. Tamalpais (you can drive there, for you tourists) -- once you top the ridge, then you can see the Pacific and run on down to it. So this film deserves its niche among the running community as a special film -- better than the many attempts to celebrate the great 3-mile champ from Wash/Oregon who died in a car crash -- Prefontaine, I think, was his name. There have been two films on him, both interesting, but just not enough real running in 'em. Maybe you've got an injury, can't run for a month or two -- you're going nuts because of it -- well, this film may provide some solace, help you feel like you're back out there on the trails. Or remind you what it's all about.

My sentiments about this film remain much as my earlier comments indicate. However, the director, Mark Kines, was kind enough respect my right to the opinions I offered, while pointing out -- via the IMDb -- that, factually, Melanie Lynskey did NOT have to pay her way to the US from New Zealand. She was treated rather well here, glad to have an opportunity to be near Hollywood to explore possible future roles, make contacts with major studios, etc. She also knew the script in advance of coming. Kines had the smarts to seek her out and ask for her -- and PAY her! He deserves credit for that and more. I am sorry to have misled people. Was it fair to characterize her role as Melody as being "a wallflower"? A few other viewers' comments have been even less kind; still, "wallflower" probably was the wrong word. Melody knows what she's about; she's no push-over. She may be unhappy, yet never desperate or desolate. My problem remains: it's just not very dynamic. I'm not asking for gunfire, or weeping and running about. So-called quiet films often appeal to me for their very quietness. And, as I said before, there's much to enjoy about "Foreign Correspondents." I'm happy to say it again. What Kines attempted with her plot-line was extremely difficult -- and maybe film schools should post signs in big letters: Don't try this! Having Michael J. Fox play a coke-head in "Bright Lights, Big City" comes to mind. Not for a minute was he convincing in that role. (Loved him in "Doc Hollywood.") Kines' error was of a much lesser magnitude. And... my expectations for Lynskey and her part were sky-high, up in the clouds. I would accept no less than another "Heavenly Creatures" turn. And why not add in some startling b&w images from old Orson Welles' films, too -- and those terrific dancing mud-creatures -- what happened to them? All of which made it difficult to see and appreciate "Foreign Correspondents" in its own right; so I apologize.

"Frankie Starlight" will delight most viewers, and those who love the stars, who appreciate their magic and mystery, will especially like this work. I've just begun to read the novel it's based on, "The Dork of Cork" by Chet Raymo. Neither the film nor the novel are based on a true story. They're fiction. So my comments about it being "true" -- are untrue. There's much "of truth" in the story -- but it must be appreciated for what it is. Corban Walker as Frankie gives an outstanding performance. And there's no question as to Walker's reality. I was correct in writing that "My Left Foot" was based on a true story. The error was linking these two films in memory too closely -- plus a little wishful thinking, perhaps. Readers' comments on another site about the novel "Dork of Cork" include some, evidently people from Cork or who have travelled there, who were disappointed more about Ireland or Cork wasn't in the book. I don't wish to similarly mis-direct people who like biographical films -- or "historical re-creations" -- to "Frankie Starlight." See it and enjoy it, as many will, as a grand, lyrical creation of art. Rewatching recently, I also realized the story was richer than I'd remembered, more complex. It moves through many times and places, across seas and continents. Tales of love and tragedy interweave masterfully. The themes of being exiled and of seeking a place to belong to run throughout. Frankie and his mom each make such a search -- for a true home, both in the cosmos and in the heart.

An amazing film, a great story -- what else could you want! Fathers and sons, mothers and sons, and an odd-sort of male-bonding all take place during the course of this film. I was already a fan of Alexie's writing -- and had met him and talked with him for quite a while at a book-signing party in Berkeley, a year or two before the film (only loosely based on the book, as other people have commented). People are quick to categorize films, especially as to the ethnic group or religious group featured, what country it was filmed in, etc -- what about simply judging on the characters, how engaging they are? This film should be seen by all people, not just Native Americans. It was very funny, but also had its bitter, angry, and sad moments, as well as a little poetry -- and lots of visual beauty. My only problem, a big one, with this film is the poster used to promote it. Irene Bedard does wonderful work in the film (she's most famous, at this moment in time, for being the figure-model for Disney's "Pocahontas" -- and also doing the voice of Pocahontas in the film). But on the movie poster, Bedard looks like a ten-year old girl. So it's my guess that most Americans looked at the poster -- immediately registered the phrase "kid's movie" in their heads and weren't interested in seeing it. Since so many movie-goers are teenagers or people in their early twenties -- the poster must have done a lot to destroy what could have been a huge box-office for this film. It could have been, and deserves to be a monster hit. When you see Bedard's character in the film, it's immediately clear she's a woman; she carries herself with the grace and maturity of a woman in her mid-twenties to mid-thirties. She's clearly more mature, if not in actual age, then in her self-possession and wisdom than the two young men who've come to visit her. She'll probably look 15 or 20 years old when she's 70; here's hoping she does! But what a disaster to give the impression on the movie posters, and video box art, which makes her look like the much younger sister to the main characters. It's not a love story, so it wouldn't be appropriate to have her posed in some sort of romantic embrace with one of the figures. But maybe she could have been shown in some photograph with the father, kissing or embracing him -- some way which would convey that she's a lovely lady, worthy of great romantic interest and intellectual respect. This is a movie for teenagers and adults. Yes, kids will enjoy the film too -- and the child stand-ins for the adult characters during "flashback" scenes do very professional work. But a film breaking new ground like this needs all the help it can get to be well-received; most reviewers I looked at in newspapers and elsewhere loved the film and couldn't say enough nice things about it. But I saw the poster before going into the theater (and I'd also seen it in newspaper ads), I already knew what to expect from having met and read Alexie's work, so seeing Bedard's face on the poster just made me curious who the kid sister might be. Then when Bedard's character shows up 2/3rds to 3/4ths of the way through, I did a double-take -- a little like Tim Meadows' "Ladies Man" of SNL -- "Whoa, it's a lady!" Not a girl at all. (She may be about 5 feet tall, if that, but all the more a lady.) Alexie's next novel or movie project should be about who falls in love with her, now that the father's gone. Bring back Irene Bedard to play the role, write another first-rate script, and do a proper poster -- and you've got a hit!

I can see lots of enthusiasm for this film in the comments of other imDb members. I most agree with the person who said if you don't like the first 5-10 minutes, hit the exit. I managed about 20-25 minutes, really hated to give it up since I am a fan of the director, but kept feeling worse and worse about what I was watching. I might have made it through more like 35 minutes, but it felt like torture most of the way. And so I missed the "gratuitous frontal nudity" near the end, as another viewer's comments mentioned. Unbelievable. Is it actually there -- or was that just a disguised marketing ploy? But seriously -- is frontal nudity ever truly only gratuitous? Is there no God? What does it all mean?

Quite a range of raves and hates for "The Grand Canyon." I've with the ravers, mostly. Yes, it is mostly about whites, although Danny Glover has a solid role, most of the best lines, and did the most to make the film pull all its diverse plots and people together.

Kevin Kline probably plays a more central role and appears in more scenes than Glover; his performance is good, but many people will probably find him too much of a New Age type. Steve Martin doesn't provide much humor here, either -- so don't let Kline's and Martin's names make you think this film has a lot of madcap funny moments in it. They're not supposed to be funny here; they're playing against type.

"The Grand Canyon" makes a fine example of what an epic film can be -- which is visionary. We see a vast sweep of characters, of landscape. A sense of history emerges, when these things work well. Most people don't look for that at the theaters, or make a mockery of "visionary" work because being a naysayer carries a certain cachet.

So, yes, the main Grand Canyon you see here is the troubled quality, or just plain misery of many different people in and around Los Angeles. The emptiness of their lives -- empty in feeling, but full of activity, in many cases -- that's kind of the essence. The city skyscrapers and urban squalor, the rapid pace of change, escalating violence and the common sense of alienation -- all these make the characters feel like they're near the bottom of a great canyon of spiritual emptiness.

I've seen the film at least twice, will probably enjoy renting it at least once every four or five years. Works better as a rental, because the film is quite long for a straight sitting. If you want to see the Grand Canyon -- or lots of scenes of it -- the actual National Park: get a video from your local public library on National Parks, or go visit the great park yourself. You'll need to be patient, very patient, to see the actual park scenes in this film.

McElwee has done many other similar works, some more deeply moving -- the one about his father the doctor, for instance. But this gives a great introduction to his "style" -- the guy who takes the camera everywhere and films his life, and not just in trivial ways -- ala web cams today. A tribute to women -- and women rate it much higher than men, as the imDb voting demographics show. This pre-dated the well-known and wildly successful "Sex, Lies, and Videotape" -- some would call it an outright steal or rip-off of "Sherman's March." As far as I know, McElwee had nothing to do with and is not credited in "Sex, Lies, and Videotape. "Sherman's March" clearly influenced "SL & V," to put things more mildly. SL&V has marketing written all over it, from the title to the stars (admittedly not as famous during the time of the shoot as now), and in its focus on sex and masturbation, particularly. "Sherman's March" has indie-film written all over it; it's not about stars, only indirectly about sex, and everyone plays themselves: it's a documentary. I liked all of that and it was a fresh approach when it first came out. Most such films are not done skillfully, thoughtfully, or edited well enough to make for excellent viewing. You may or may not like McElwee personally; he's a bit of an odd-ball, but a kindly one. His women friends are the focus here, however, and he wisely gets out of the way most of the time. Well worth your time.

Peter Wang's most excellent adventure -- as director and actor in this work, his work simply shines. This film probably works best for adults, preferably in their thirties or forties or older. It's about tracing one's roots, one's ancestors across the sea -- in this case, the Pacific Ocean; but in other ways, many of the elements of the story are universal.

There's a friendly, respectful attitude taken to Mainland China here; none of the atmosphere or tension of investigative journalism presents itself. After all, the subject at hand is visiting with relatives. Wang does a nice job of presenting how both cultures tend to look down at the other, not necessarily in a bitter way, but more in a comic vein. We express sympathy for what we perceive as faults or missing elements in the culture or individual lives of the other relatives. What the American Chinese family perceives as a failing may be a source of pride or strength for the Mainland family -- and vice versa. This film is one of a handful that, immediately after seeing it, I wanted to go right back into the theater and see it again. I didn't. I went back the very night day. Finding the video to rent can be difficult in some places; but well worth the effort. I try to watch it at least once every two to three years; always gets me laughing again, and by the end, I still wish I could have been there with this young family in China and had them as personal friends to visit with here in California. They seem to have such fun and such spirit; a very beautiful rapport between father and son is shown and further developed as the film unfolds. Don't miss it, whatever you do -- the whole film, not just the ending. It took my breath away. Too bad the title is a bit much.

This film qualifies as a "laugh riot." It's not quite a "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad World" kind of comedy, but full of great comic twists and turns, all centering on an anthropological discovery -- the first French fossil woman (who looks much as drawings show the famous Leakey fossil woman/hominid "Lucy" in Africa). Dr. Ruth Westheimer plays the American expert that Depardieu's character seeks out to legitimize his claims about the new fossil. Sigourney Weaver plays a poor American tourist who mistakenly gets wrapped up in the plot while seeking to escape a former lover/stalker. A fair number of scenes, all of those with Westheimer, and quite a few of Sigourney's (although she speaks French in the film, too, with an appropriately American accent) are in English. Weaver's best line, however, is in French and you'll especially enjoy it if you know the language -- just in terms of immediate impact. I refuse to give it away here, either in terms of plot or the words themselves -- but you won't have to wait long to hear it, once her character enters. Enough said. Did I mention that Depardieu turns in another first-rate starring role? -- it goes without saying. This time he plays a good-guy; his villain-roles also rate quite highly with me. Whatever he's in, even the poorly-received "Christopher Columbus" -- he makes memorable. I wouldn't recommend the "Mon Oncle" film, however, that's my one exception. It's not that he's bad in it -- it's just such a dour, dull role -- and a small part, too. But that's for another review. If you love Sigourney Weaver, men -- and to borrow a phrase, what's not to like? -- you'll want to put this film near the top of your "Must See" film list. She's at her sexiest here. It's light fare, but what's wrong with that?

"Dersu Uzala" was my introduction to Kurosawa's work; since that time, I've probably seen somewhere between 7 and 10 of his other films. Some have been quite powerful, and I'd probably enjoy seeing them again. But Dersu Uzala is a love story -- about love of the land, and of two men; and tigers in Siberia! I can't give any better summaries of what's so magnificent about the filming and Kurosawa's genius than the other fan's comments have indicated. But where so many other of Kurosawa's films are about fighting and wars (like "Ran") -- this film has more of a lyric or pastoral quality to many scenes.

If I ran the world -- if you've every played that game with your friends or with your kids -- if I ran the world, every great filmmaker, or novelist, would be required to write at least one film (or novel) about a person from another culture or another religion who inspired them, or taught them something unforgettable about the mysterious nature of life. Well, here's one of the greatest directors ever, and that's just what he's done here. Hats off to Akira-sensei, the humble master; may he live as long as Hokusai or longer, learning to the last minute.

The story with Danova has a lot more zing to it; Wheaton doesn't have an especially likeable part to play, but that doesn't mean that he's not acting well. I was invited to see an early screening for this film in San Francisco; it was well received there, but then many in the audience had acted as extras in the film. Chris Farrell does a nice job with the music; but the title suggests too much of a comparison with the famous Hitchcock film -- which isn't apt; these are love stories or friendships, teenagers on the verge of adulthood. A good first effort, and given the difficulty factor of having a very low budget -- more credit is due to all involved. Melanie Lynsky, a tremendously gifted actress -- she did terrific work in the outstanding film "Heavenly Creatures -- is largely wasted here. She sacrificed, basically paid her way from New Zealand, just to be given another chance to act -- after having a complex and challenging role in one of the greatest films of the nineties, she hadn't received many offers. But the part Kines gave her is one of a wallflower, more or less. Yelena Danova was new to me; yet she appeared to be the brightest light in either section. Lynsky could well have the potential to be another Bette Davis type star; but she'll need more imaginative or experienced directors to work with for this to happen. Or she may have to write her own scripts, like Katherine Hepburn did.

I saw this film at the home of some senior friends of mine who have a satellite dish. They both are in their eighties, but lived in New York City at the time of the events which take place in the movie. We all found the film entertaining, lively, well-written. My friends vouched for its accuracy as to what really happened. There's a bit more drama, more suspense, than the title alone suggests. Well worth your time.

Be prepared for some heat, sexual and otherwise, with "Wide Sargasso Sea." But nothing can prepare you for the pulsing, haunting, hypnotic main-theme of the soundtrack. "Mt. Underwater" is the official title of this piece, composed by Stewart Copeland, which runs while the Sargasso seaweed-fronds writhe in the waves, seen from underwater, right from the opening credits. Only the beginning; so much more follows: an incredible history. There's the ending of slavery and its aftermath on the island. Themes of loyalty, betrayal, madness, and even love, especially love, are interwoven masterfully. The majestic presence of the island of Jamaica remains in the mind's eye long after the end, too. The heart of the tale runs quite close to such films as the triple Oscar-winning "The Piano" (1993) or "Sirens" (1994). And, yes, there are many moments, even sustained ones, where characters are nude. But beautifully so! The spirit of each main character appears nude as well, by the film's end. The lovers, Edward and Antoinette -- what fiery and troubled spirits they are -- or become. Karina Lombard's beauty (as Antoinette) runs all through here, but women will get quite a few opportunities to view Edward (played by Nathaniel Parker). Ultimately, Lombard's ability to show Antoinette's abiding spirit wins out; the strength and truth of her love -- but more than that -- of her life-spirit, her connectedness to the culture she was born into -- these qualities remain unforgettable. Initially, I wanted to describe this film as the most sensuous, most passionate, I'd ever seen. Then I remembered Italian director Lina Wertmuller's "Swept Away" -- one of the greatest films ever; and most films suffer by comparison. But "Wide Sargasso Sea," in Lombard's portrayal of Antoinette, overmatches "Swept Away" for the strength of its lead female character. Without this sort of beauty, the appeal of even the most perfectly-formed naked flesh means nothing. I'm not saying "Wide Sargasso Sea" is the better film. No. Because the richness of actor Giancarlo Giannini's performance in the lead role of "Swept Away" secures its place as an international classic. Both stories originated with women writers: Jean Rhys, in the novel of the same title for "Sargasso" (many years before the film was made). "Swept Away" has the unmatched genius of Wertmuller as both director and writer. I've read Rhys' novel, by the way -- you can't blame the director or the film's scriptwriters for the passion and sensuality portrayed onscreen in "Wide Sargasso Sea." It amazed me how closely the screenplay matched the original text in terms of the dialog. Yes, the passion and nudity aren't so explicitly described in the novel -- but that doesn't mean they aren't felt and imagined all the more powerfully by the reader. It's a yin/yang thing. Women may prefer the sensuality of words to images, as a rule; men generally respond most immediately to images. Make a novel into a film and -- voila, the visual will come to the fore, in fact, must do so.

Groundhog Day, the holiday, provides the springboard for a lively romantic tale, very funny -- with about twenty times the imagination of most such fare. The subject, the hidden message (not hidden very deeply), if you will, is about what it feels like to be stuck -- to be unable to transcend your own problems and limitations. Sounds like a film about learning to be mature, about being willing to listen to others, learning to care about them. These are spiritual matters. But this film has Bill Murray, right? And what a fine job he does. No one would go to see a straight-out religious film about learning to be kind, learning to listen, about what really makes living worthwhile -- well, OK, a few people might. But make it into a lively comedy (and why not? Dante's great poem was "The Divine Comedy," after all) -- and you get something like this. "Groundhog Day" should be classed alongside, or even above, to my mind, "It's a Wonderful Life." Every parent should take their kid to see this film -- if you have a larger family, take each one of your kids individually, make the occasion special thereby. Then talk about it together, ask your child they liked about it. This is non-denominational spirituality; Gandhi said "God has no religion." This comedy has that kind of Gandhian quality, in the best sense. This film can be especially wonderful and powerful for young men, even teenagers -- because it seems like Murray's character is happy exploring all kinds of mischief, delighted about getting away with everything -- almost. Then he gets kind of angry. Personally, growing up, especially during my teen years, I thought being angry was what being a man was all about. Not that I always "thought" about it; but a deeper, subconscious feeling lived inside me, the sense that anger would protect me, or make me strong. Hey, don't get me wrong -- seeing this film didn't get me over that. But getting over it, or at leasting understanding where I'd been, etc., was a huge step for me. "Groundhog Day" made me receptive to more positive thinking, because it didn't preach. Oh, did I mention I couldn't stop laughing in the theater and worried about embarrassing other people around me because I was laughing so much? Most of them were laughing, too. A great film; I really believe that. People love Charlie Chaplin's "Little Tramp" -- the same kind of sentiment applies for me to this film. I buy very few films, since renting nowadays, and cable and satellite dishes all work so well. But "Groundhog Day" is one of about ten videos I've bought in the last twenty years. And it's the most watched and rewatched of the lot.

This was more or less a student-effort by De Felitta while at the Film Institute, but transcends that. The story is reminiscent of some of the early O. Henry stories about boxing, or even of some of Jack London's work like "A Piece of Steak." There are some nice humorous touches here, and the characters come alive quickly, but remain more memorable than in most short films. It taps into univeral problems of human nature, especially those relating to althletic competition -- with a light, but sure touch. There's little to be boo-ed about this work. Bravo!

Rudolph's films tend to be hit or miss (sometimes by a mile). "Afterglow" falls below the level of his best -- but his best work surpasses so many other directors working today. And I rushed to see "Afterglow" despite being warned off by many newspaper and magazine reviews. A lot of my enthusiasm came from a life-long fascination with and enjoyment of Julie Christie's work. And I wasn't disappointed here, although her role is not the largest part -- it is, ultimately, the most central, the vortex of all the rest. Nolte rates near the top with me, as actors go; he gives a fine performance here -- yet probably not one which greatly tests or extends his range. Still, seeing him and Christie together was another powerful incentive for me to see this one and should be for you as well. Be patient with "Afterglow"; that's my advice. The cinematography works wonderfully, even when some of the plot developments might seem, initially, too predictable -- you might think you know where it's all going. Well, you can still enjoy the ride, tremendously, and it's not really going where it appears to be. There's much below the surface, undertones which you can gradually feel building in pulse. To me the ending was wonderfully cathartic; and we have Christie to thank, as well as Rudolph for that. In some ways, the overall "feel" of this reminded me of the much earlier Rudolph film (with the wonderful Geraldine Chaplin in a central part) "Welcome to L.A." Two very different films, but both well worth seeing.

This films rocks and rolls, all with a special French flavor, a soupcon of danger, many droll scenes, yet never quite too wild to be entirely unbelievable. Depardieu cannot be compared with any other actor in the world; his talent and the vast number and variety of roles he's played are astounding. He's been funny in many films; he's more famous for his most dramatic, tragic roles, naturally -- but, for me, this is his most riotous role -- and he's the straight man, essentially. A hard thing to pull off well. I liked "Les Comperes" better than "La Chevre" -- the other, earlier pairing of Richard and Depardieu. Both films are quite funny; both actors are excellent here. This film touched a nerve with me -- as a stepfather. Later, of course, the movie got remade in America with Robin Williams and Billy Crystal -- but the magic wasn't there. The real American partner to the original "Les Comperes" is the Danny Glover and Martin Short film "Pure Luck." It's my own personal theory that "Pure Luck" is a ripoff of "Les Comperes." I mean no ill-will here. The "ripoff" is a fair one; ideas cannot be copyrighted, nor should they be -- good writers "borrow"; great ones steal. Well, "Pure Luck" has the same central chemistry; Glover and Short play off each other in an identical fashion to Richard and Depardieu. Instead of looking for a run-off young teenage boy, we have a daughter missing and a rich, corporate dad concerned -- versus a sexy, wily, strong-willed French mother in "Les Comperes." The daughter in "Pure Luck" is chronologically older, in her twenties, but her mind is, well, let's say calling her "childlike" would be overly charitable. The daughter adds to the magic in "Pure Luck" -- in "Les Comperes" the missing son is mainly that -- missing. But that's exactly as it should be, the two dads are what's it's all about. Both are excellent films. If you know some French or a lot, or if you don't mind subtitles, or if the dubbed version is very well done -- "Les Comperes" will reward you tremendously for your time. It's the better film, the more enduring -- because it remains closer to reality throughout, despite much typically Gallic, but still recognizably universal male zaniness. And it has warmth, even romance -- plus the missing boy keeps a real concern at the center of the film. It's fair to call "Pure Luck" slapstick -- but slapstick at its very best. "Les Comperes" may occasionally approach slapstick, but deserves a higher regard. Its insights are much deeper and its comic-view is more subtle (but only so in comparison to "Pure Luck"). I mean, you can't miss the humor here. See both; let me know what you think. Aren't they uncannily similar? Women will probably enjoy "Les Comperes" more, too, because of the strong role of the French mother, her self-confidence, her power over all the men -- and all so gracefully, elegantly done.

There were three films in this series, beginning with the less well-known, but excellent "Soft Skin" -- a beautiful title in English, but even more beautiful in French. "Stolen Kisses" -- remembered now almost thirty years since I first saw it -- tops the others. "Bed and Board" is the third; amusing, even wise, in a way, but not nearly in the same league with either "Skin" or "Kisses."

This film is one of a handful which confirmed me as a life-long cinephile; first seen in my early twenties. It's Truffaut's happiest film, which might damn it to many people in a way, prevent it from being regarded as a great film. Who cares? It's tremendously amusing, the young actors are beautiful to watch (women may find other leading men more handsome than Leaud, but men won't other young ladies more beautiful than Claude Jade, to my mind). But -- even better -- this baby moves. It's lively and full of great, odd plot developments. It's easy to miss the sheer genius of the writing, the filming -- tremendous inventiveness is evident in both. This film led the way; it's as wild as some of Woody Allen's goofier earlier films, but without anywhere near the level of neuroticism. I could go on and on. I've seen it at least six or seven times. There's nothing else like it, truly. A few of Alan Rudolph's films begin to explore this vein a bit, but then they came much later. "Stolen Kisses" -- a beautiful film for young lovers to see, for a first date, perhaps, and for more mature lovers, too. For everybody, young and old. A perfect Valentines' Day film, but not mere fluff, either. There's Paris, women's shoes, detectives, lots of scheming, a triumph over shyness, lots of flirting, and plenty of stolen kisses, of many varieties, including a few to be kept and sealed away forever.

An outstanding love story, with an astonishing, riveting performance from Fanny Ardant. My own love affair with Truffaut began as a teenager when I first saw "Jules and Jim." But "La femme d'a cote" moved me most directly and most powerfully of all his great work. Is love "toujours triste"? No, not always sad; now that I'm in my forties, I'm much less a romantic. And love may be of many varieties. But deep romantic love, I do believe, rarely appears on screen as honestly portrayed as here. "The Woman Next Door" presents us with the power, the physical impact of love, the way it "takes our breath" away and so much more. Truffaut so often focuses on love, and usually more positively and in a greater variety of ways than other great directors. But if you want funny, fresh young love, see Truffaut's "Soft Skin" or even "Don't Shoot the Piano Player. His films which are more about infatuation versus love, i.e., the original (Truffaut's film, not the American one with Bert Reynolds) "The Man Who Loved Women" or even the Hitchcock tribute "The Bride Wore Black" while "darker" in tone -- all these remain quite funny, generally light in tone, and quite lively in pace and style. In "The Woman Next Door," more tragic, melancholic moments appear -- it's more akin to the highly autobiographical "The 400 Blows," which tells of Truffaut's difficult adolescence. Yet it has its lighter moments, too. My own response was a strong interest in the drama, the suspense, and astonishment at the beauty of the story, the acting, and the many moments of cinematic genius. Truffaut did, personally, fall in love with Ardant, the lead actress here; they married, so just how much autobiography went into this tale and film -- I don't know. "Next Door" represents Truffaut in a mature phase of his life and career, one which shot off like a rocket and just kept climbing. Ardant went on to act well in many other films, even in several after Truffaut's death. In her starring role here, she made her debut to my acquaintance. She stunned me; I thought I knew Truffaut's work well enough -- after ten to twelve years of trying to see everything available by him, reading about him, and so forth. Yet this film knocked me out, all the same. Superb.

If you like "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" -- in its many forms, written and cinematic; if you're into Ambrose Bierce, the "Devil's Dictionary" guy, you'll want to check out "Party." Woelfel has creatively adapted Bierce's ideas. Yes, once more there's a hanging (as in "Owl Creek") which is at the center of the story -- but other elements make this more akin to a 70's-style Star Trek or Twilight Zone (nowadays "Outer Limits"). Think Kirk (Shatner) versus the Gorn; or Next Generation fans may remember the episode where Picard (Stewart) faces off with the Gorn-like critter speaking entirely with analogies -- kinda like I'm doing here, eh? Amusing, dryly droll. Not so much the chase and suspense stuff of "Owl Creek." This is gallows' humor with the emphasis on humor -- but a real gallows, too. And a pretty lady, a drunk, a businessman. For the lit crowd, think Sartre's "No Exit" (Bierce predates him, of course) -- only much shorter, and funny. A blast, in fact. UC Davis has an annual short-film fest, mostly student stuff, Woelfel got mobbed by fans after "Party" was shown there and he'd identified himself as director/writer/composer. Women were tearing his clothes off, fortunately he was wearing Gor-Tek; still, an ugly scene. On a UC campus? Hard to imagine.