Reviews

Compared to the Disney cartoon, or any other previous attempt to represent this story theatrically, this version stands as a hallmark of perfection. Some of the special effects are a bit excessive, perhaps, but it remains an outstanding production. The "Peter Pan" motif is archetypal, in Jungian terms, because it speaks to that paradox of human development concerned with change. Clinging to childhood fantasies is a natural part of life. We see it in adults who try to preserve their youth by snapping their fingers to the music, or by continuing to play the same games they favored as children. Peter Pan, however, is a rather tragic character, who by never growing up, ends up alone, and with nothing to look forward to but a world of pretend.

Contrary to what some may think, Peter Pan is not about everyone's secret dreams. As an archetype, Peter Pan represents the symbol of remaining the same. In contrast, the lessons of childhood are about creativity and growth. The objection to adulthood is that adulthood doesn't change. Therefore, and ironically, Peter Pan represents the opposite of youth: not changing, not growing, not doing anything new. He has an old person's mind in the body of a boy. He is stuck in a rut and unwilling to change. Wendy, on the other hand, represents the true child. She wants the feeling and love that an old man's brain in a young boy's body cannot give. It isn't that he doesn't want to grow up, therefore, but that his unwillingness to grow has already made him too old.

Independent films have a reputation for being different than the mainstream fare, but different is not always better. This is a story about a profoundly ordinary girl who finds herself faced with a non-ordinary situation. Otherwise, the banality of her thinking can be found at the checkout line of any K-Mart. The story merely demonstrates that unusual circumstances do not necessarily cause ordinary persons to rise above their commonplace values.

In terms of its being a low budget presentation, the most obvious deficit is in the sound mixing. It is almost impossible to hear what the characters are saying, most of the time. This is not a slur on their fine British accents, but on the technicians who did the mixing. The background noise is typically louder than the voice track. The story itself is hardly worth watching, but having to strain to hear what they're saying makes it all the more tedious to endure.

While we know how this story will end up right from the start, it tells us what we already suspected. Movie stars live lives that cinema viewers can hardly imagine. We see them on the screen and think that they "are" the characters they play, even though they are just following scripts written by others. The typical movie star is just a puppet, holding to no original views worth knowing about. If someone writes a script for them in which they deliver lines more profound than they could have imagined on their own, we give the credit to them, and not to the writer of the script.

On one level we know that, but on another level we keep hoping that they are more than just hired pretenders. In this film, a home town girl wins a contest to date a movie star. She wants so much to believe that he is more than a talking dummy that she believes his lines, even when he swipes them from the boy next door. She gets so caught up in her fantasies about the movie star, and what her life would be like in that glittering world of make-believe, that she almost loses sight of what is going on in her real world. There are no surprises to this story, but it is well done, and fun to watch at least once.

What went wrong with the New Republic, a journal believed to represent mature and sober thought and the best of investigative reporting? Was it just Steven Glass, presented as a self-seeking sociopath and an inveterate liar, who manipulated and victimized an otherwise unblemished tradition? Or had that tradition already been lost in the rush to be more trendy and hip, such that maturity got lost in the bargain? Who do we take our lessons on maturity from, the young? We learn from this story that the "mean" age of the reporters at the New Republic was twenty-five at the time. The "mean" is a measure of central tendency, as opposed to the average, which is the sum of all ages divided by the number of participants. In other words, the "mean" is a measure of the most typical, where the average could include a much wider spread.

So we are presented with a situation, at a highly respected journal, in which the most typical reporter is about twenty five, and when one of them acts without any sense of maturity, the finger is pointed at the actor and not the production. This is like hiring children to design a roller-coaster, and then being surprised when someone gets hurt. What was "wrong" with the situation at the New Republic was not Steven Glass, but its central tendency of cultivating youth in positions requiring more experience and maturity. It therefore provided an environment in which the immaturity of someone like Glass would have surfaced anyway: he was just ready for the role. Hence, to put all the blame on him ignores what was lacking in the maturity department at the New Republic, even before he arrived. If it hadn't been him, it would have been somebody else.

This could be an excellent little suspense yarn with a touch of sci-fi in the brew, and in many respects it is. But (the DVD version of) the film is only 92 minutes long, and there were at least three scenes chopped down that needed to contribute important information to the continuity. Leaving them in completely would have added no more than a few minutes to an already short story, but as stripped, there are three situations left unexplained, along with a comment from Cowboy that clarifies what he is up to and defines his role.

What does a cowboy do? He rides the range in search of cattle, and when he has a herd, he delivers them to the slaughter house where they end up as hamburgers. A similar story was given many years ago in a Twilight Zone or Outer Limits show, about space aliens inviting humans to go away with them to a paradise in the sky. The humans were given a book to decipher, which the aliens claimed would reveal their ultimate intent, but the humans couldn't figure it out. Hundreds of them had already left, and more were waiting in line, before someone finally translated the title. It was a "cook book"! In other words, as in this story, the promise of a glittering future among the aliens turned out to have a darker side.

As anyone can see from the DVD version, the important three shortened scenes establish key points in the plot. They are called "Going for a ride," "Get in the room," and "Git along little doggie," the latter of which concerns a rather chilling remark by Cowboy. These three scenes should not have been truncated, because they are central to the story. The edited out parts only amount to an extra few minutes, but they add clarity to three situations that otherwise leave one wondering what was missing. Otherwise a good story.

A person may kill out of hatred, meanness, apathy, anger, or desperation. Whatever the reason, murder can never be tolerated except as an act of self defense. But what can we say about someone who repeatedly puts herself in dangerous situations, and then not once but seven takes a life, each time claiming that she had acted in self defense? As even she complains, it's all in the numbers. That she had a miserable life, with a long history of neglect and abuse, is doubted by no one. That those whom she killed were mean and loathsome toads who cared nothing for her, and would have taken her life had she not murdered them first, is also arguably true. But she kept putting herself in such situations repeatedly, anyway, and that's where her claim for self defense seems absurd.

The documentary portrays her as angry at the world, yet relentlessly addicted to bad advice from others who seek to exploit her for their own selfish reasons. First she listens to a nincompoop "Christian" lady, who convinces her that Jesus will forgive her sins if only she admits to all her crimes in court. So she does, only later to realize the stupidity of such advice. Similarly with legal representation. Going from bad to worse she listens to a worthless narcissist more interested in his own career than saving her life. For all involved, she is worth more dead than alive. Her life would end in the electric chair, while the audience would be eating popcorn and watching the Hollywood version of her story.

The deeper question, however, is how did this woman become a killer in the first place? What is it about our culture that we turn a blind eye to poverty, neglect and abuse, yet we blame those who act out their frustrations through anti-social behaviors? Given her background, why should we be surprised that she turned out as she did? Her life meant nothing to anyone until she went over the edge, and then it only meant a story to be exploited for profit by others. There are flaws in this documentary, to be sure, but a very sad story it yet remains.

A clashing of cultural values story centered around the ownership of a house. To begin with, it belongs to a youngish American woman who inherited it from her father, but she is a rather self- absorbed narcissist whose fantasy world does not include attending to trivial details. As a result, she ignores a tax lean against the property until it is confiscated by the county, and she is forcibly evicted. The property is then sold at auction. In the meantime, a disenfranchised Iranian family, forced to emigrate to America after the fall of the Shah, and struggling to make ends meet, bids and wins the property. They are decent people just trying to survive. They know nothing about the American or her problems. The father had been a high ranking officer under the Shah, but in America he was reduced to road work and clerking at a convenience store nights.

The ultimate tragedy results from the clash of cultural values. To the American, the Iranian is just a greedy opportunist that stole her property, even though she would have had no problem if she had just attended to the tax problem responsibly. To them, she brought the loss of her property on herself. They acquired it legally, and as a needed investment. In their world, survival and preparing a future for their son meant everything, where in her world, trying to get her house back was her only goal. The Iranian plays no games with his life or the welfare of his family. In contrast, the American is weak and superficial, employing dramatic and impulsive actions to get attention. Her life doesn't matter without the house. To the Iranian, his life doesn't matter without his son. In the bargain, a local law-enforcement officer gets involved, and by the time the fog clears, who owns the house no longer matters.

The theme of this film is tradition, which can be a good thing when it preserves continuity across generational lines, but harsh and restrictive when it allows no room for growth. Ironically, the skill of the "grandpa" is in surprising his audience with masks that are ever changing, yet change is the one thing he finds hardest to do. Tradition requires that his skills can only be passed down to a male heir, and hence he would sooner allow his skills to be lost than to break with that tradition. The message he ultimately has to learn is that tradition can sometimes be wrong, and that even he can be surprised by the unexpected mask.

This is a Chinese film, in which we are given the Chinese perspective, but the message is universal. On another level, consider the Christian perspective. Metaphorically speaking, what if Jesus came back wearing the mask of a little girl? Would that representation be rejected on the grounds that it wasn't what they were expecting? Would they reject the mask, and thus miss the message? Or consider the Aztecs of Mexico, who fell victim to the Conquistadors, because Cortez resembled what they thought was the return of their god Quetzalcoatl? Beliefs about traditions can not only be wrong, but potentially enslaving. When we become so blinded by tradition that we can see no room for change, change may have no room for us!

This is a marvelous film, which begs to be compared with "Whale Rider" (2002), having a similar theme but presented from the perspective of a New Zealand Maori tribe. They, too, had a tradition in which the mask of the leader could only be worn by a male, and when a male could not be found, would sooner the tradition die than change. The point of these stories, of course, is not the girl, but the change. There is more to value than gender. When tradition can only accept the one, it might be surprised by the other.

Mom's parenting skills consist of having all the kids get into the bed with her like puppies. Indeed, when she goes away on tour and has to stay in a hotel, she rings up room service for a dozen pillows in order to get to sleep! Similarly, Dad's parenting skills amount to letting the kids do whatever they please, so the story is not about two parents with twelve children, but rather fourteen children, of which two are somewhat older. There is no structure to this family, and hence when Mom and Dad become distracted by new career choices, it starts breaking down rapidly into anarchy and chaos. The problem isn't the number of children or the new career choices, but that the parents have not provided a family structure sufficient to support any changes in direction or growth.

In short, the story misrepresents a poor example of parenting as though it was a good example, manipulating the audience with feel-good sentimentality at every turn, so that we will not notice how messed up and dysfunctional this family actually is. We are supposed to laugh at all their craziness and antics, the chandelier crashing from the ceiling, the kids slipping on vomit, the frog splattering breakfast on everyone, and so forth, and then feel good in the end, when love conquers all, and they return to the simpler life where they started. In other words, this is just mindless nonsense promoting stupidity and childish values. It has nothing in common with the 1950 film from which it takes its title.

This is a very sensitive and original `coming of age' film, centered around a seventeen-year-old boy seeking to find meaning in his life. His mom had been, in her youth, a self-absorbed, dope-smoking and thrill-seeking Bohemian, who fell for an equally superficial and pretentious pseudo-intellectual of the writer variety, and by the time he went out for a pack of cigarettes never to return, she had found herself pregnant. That would have been the end of her story had mom been a pauper, but her family had money, so by the time the story opens the son had been shuttled around through every prep-school in the country. He never knew his father, and what he knew about his mother was that she never grew up.

What little his mother would say about his father were myths, which he clings to desperately in this story. Had his father `really' been a writer? All he has for proof is an old typewriter, on which he tries to write letters to his father that are never mailed. The whereabouts of the father are not known. Estranged and alienated from his parents, he ends up in an apartment where he can begin to find himself through associations with others who have complicated stories of their own to share. Not surprisingly, he falls in love with an older woman who is much like his mother: self-absorbed and addicted to dysfunctional relationships. Almost as though to redeem his mother through the woman, he tries to prove himself the better man to her, in contrast to the slick and quick former boyfriend, with his leather clothes and hot guitar. He is a nice guy that wants to finish better, not last. It is a very mature and well-crafted story.

The soul of this film is in the empathy, or it would be easy to judge. Men tend to marry women who think like themselves, but there is that darker side, different from themselves, that some men cannot resist. In the usual case, at least as far as movie plots are concerned, his darker side will drive him to find some lover that is everything that he is not. If he is obsessive, she will be moody and impulsive, otherwise she will be the Eros to his Thanatos. The wife and the lover seldom know each other. In this case, however, he finds both of these women as sisters, adding incest to the convoluted plot. The one he marries is structured like himself, but then he falls in love, or lust, with the other, a neurotic Bohemian whose child-like passions rob him of reason.

There is a fatalistic element to this plot, however. All three characters, while seemingly driven by their feelings, are actually so out of touch with their feelings that they act without reason. We say that it is their "feelings" that are driving their actions, when in fact it is their lack of "reason" that is driving their actions. They are just letting themselves feel without thinking, as though it was "fate" that made such decisions. They can't help themselves. Fate has determined that he will marry the wrong sister, and fate has determined that he will become hopelessly obsessed by the other. What is left for the audience, therefore, is to empathize with their dilemma as presented, and agree without doubt that where matters of love are concerned, there is no room for reason.

What a pessimistic and lugubrious theme! Feelings, passions and emotions, are wonderful and inspiring forces, that can drive us to the heights of ambition, or drag us down to depression, bigotry and resentment. Unless measured by reason they are worthless and potentially harmful. It is "reason" that makes feelings supreme, not just feelings alone. Wallowing in passion without reason only results in self-indulgence and destruction, as evidenced by this film. The events of this story did not "just happen" to these characters as though by fate. Not only is there "room" for reason in matters where love is concerned, but without it love becomes a trap, a disease, and a tragedy. What is missing from this story is not love, but reason.

The point of this film, although not necessarily obvious, is that love is not about age. It is about having a healthy, trusting and accepting relationship, strong enough to last for as long as it can. If both parties to such a relationship happen to be of equivalent age, that would be conventional, but equivalent age is no more essential to such a relationship than being of the same race, gender, or some other superficial feature. What difference does it make if one of the parties in the relationship is significantly older or younger than the other, so long as both are comfortable with that arrangement? To argue that differences in age matter more than differences in race or gender, is merely to engage in another form of bigotry.

On the other hand, of course, to "prefer" someone in a relationship because of their age, race, or gender, represents as much bigotry at to "exclude" them for such reasons, and that's where this film delivers its message. Harry "prefers" younger women, while Erica "excludes" younger men. Erica can't handle a relationship with a younger man because of that difference in age, while Harry can't handle a relationship with Erica because of their equivalency in age. As a result, the question of whether age, as a discriminating factor in seeking a healthy, productive relationship, is worthy of serious consideration, becomes central to the message of this film. It does not suggest that differences in age are preferable, only that differences in age are not the point.

In this era for which children's entertainment has been reduced almost entirely to brain-dead cartoons, almost any attempt to include real, flesh and blood children in a live action feature should be greeted with the sincerest of praise. Against an avalanche, an ocean of assembly-line animated rubbish that makes dumber seem smarter, the room for humans in films made for children has all but been lost. Therefore, when one comes along, it is painful not to be able to give it some praise. This film has two delightful children--real ones, not just voices for cartoons, and it even offers a reasonably intelligent message. Look closely: The cat teaches them that too much chaos is no more fun than too much order!

Indeed, for the most part, one gets the sense that the production started out with the best of intentions, but then something started going wrong, and what was meant as a film for children became an embarrassing farce. Was it Mike Myers, painfully miscast as the Cat, but looking more like a fat old man wearing a silly costume? Or his dirty jokes and puns, obvious to any adult, but crass and inappropriate for a film aimed at children? In one case, the dirty old man in a costume theme is made obvious by having his all too human backside exposed, crack and all, while farting away like some cheap gag in a burlesque routine. Badah-boom, badah-bing! How original! When his lines and style are not stolen outright from the Cowardly Lion of the 1939 Wizard of OZ, they are dredged up from his own former Austin Powers character.

What is "right" about this film is the employment of human children in a live action adventure. What is "wrong" with it, however, is Mike Myers with his potty mouth, confusing the Cat with Austin Powers. He was funny as Austin Powers, but that character is out of place in a children's story. As a result, it serves neither the adult audience nor the children. And worse, it sends the message that live action stores with real kids involved is a bad idea, when that's the one part of the film that is good. It is "more" of them that are needed, not less, but when something this bad comes along, it makes the cartoon garbage seem superior by comparison.

While no doubt conceived with great sincerity, the story for this film could serve as the definition for sophistry. Somehow we are to swallow an emotional appeal revolving around what has been set-up as the "real" meaning of the American Thanksgiving feast. But while the film makes that point, it has a second agenda as well, in which we are maneuvered into accepting the lives and behaviors of the main characters, all of whom are hopelessly self-absorbed, dissociated, and conflicted. They are not likable. They don't like themselves and they don't like each other. Why they are so messed up and dysfunctional is never treated, but we are supposed to endorse them anyway, as though blind acceptance was sufficient to excuse them.

The second agenda is intended to sell us on their self-centeredness and blatant immaturity, while the main point pretends to prove an argument by appealing only to our feelings. In other words, if and when we feel good about the conclusion, we will also have bought the second agenda, and that's what is meant by sophistry. The message about Thanksgiving is a ruse, for what is otherwise a work of propaganda. Never mind that April's life is a disaster of too much self-indulgence without concern for responsibility, or that her mother is even worse. Never mind that her relationship with Bobby is childish and superficial, because interracial relationships are still considered quite trendy. Just "accept" all their tragedy of mind and spirit gone wrong, and feel good about the emotional conclusion.

An average story about the three generations of an ordinary, but conspicuously wealthy, Jewish family. The characters are well developed and believable. During the period in which the story takes place, all three generations start out predictably fractured, and have difficulties understanding each other or communicating with each other effectively. The point of the story is to show how they overcome their differences and learn to appreciate each other on a higher level. The problem is that they are so wealthy, however, that their story seems a bit too gratuitous. It is like the story is trying to make the case that their problems are just like ours, when for rather large segments of the population, including some of the less fortunate members of the story itself, they are not. Trans-generational difficulties may be common to all classes of people, but that doesn't mean that the problems of the rich are therefore equivalent to the problems of those just barely getting by.

For example, what about the life of the poor gal working at the soup kitchen with the successful lawyer father of the story, who volunteers his time there for ideological reasons, but nevertheless finds justification for having sex with her on the side? At the end of her day, does she drive home to a sumptuous abode such as his? Or what about the poor folks living in the tenements that he attempts to champion (or patronize) for egalitarian reasons? Are their trans-generational problems just like his? What about the little girl at the elementary school that the youngest son takes a fancy to, but who will never rise above the dysfunctionality of her family background? Would any of these view this film and conclude that its message applied equally to them? No, because it's focus is only about rich white liberals and their meaningless pathetic lives.

Four people, two guys and two gals, at different places in their lives, chance to meet at a restaurant for dinner one day, and end up revealing themselves and discovering each other in ways none of them could have predicted. For the most part, they are bright, young, upwardly mobile professionals, comfortable discussing themselves, and hence even without a psychologist to act as moderator, they interact in a manner reminiscent of group therapy. That is, they take turns admitting their secret thoughts and obsessions, take issue with each other on some points, and try to benefit from each other's experiences and perspectives. One of them even has some background in a field related to psychiatry, but of course with minimal insight.

The point of the film seems to be that, thanks to their group discussion, they all develop a wider perspective on life, but especially Melvin, whose life had been spiraling out of control. In some regards he seems the brighter of the four, yet the least insightful. All of the characters become more aware of themselves through their interactions over dinner, but it is Melvin who benefits the most. How he grows, and what he learns from that encounter, are what makes this film worth viewing. Thanks to his opportunity, Melvin doesn't just go out to dinner, but learns to take control of his life. It is a very subtle story, but worthy of critical attention.

There is an element to this film reminiscent of the delightfully ironic House of Games (1987) in which the tables get turned unexpectedly and bitingly by the victim. Otherwise, this film gives us a view of humanity and human relationships that is hardly laudable. In House of Games, the heroine is a likeable person, and her table turning against the bad guys seems all the more justifiable for that reason. In this film, however, the heroine is no more likeable than those whom she seeks to get `even' with.

Increasingly, that temper seems to be creeping in to contemporary films. The clear distinction between good versus bad is becoming blurred between bad versus worse in this type of film. Perhaps that's what they mean by `Pushing the envelope,' except that it only gets pushed in the direction of more nihilism, where all that matters is who can out-fox whom. As a result, the `cleverness' of this type of film fails to leave one with a satisfying reason to care about what happens to the characters. They're just a bunch of self-absorbed rich folk trying to outsmart each other.

This and Le Divorce (2003) beg to be contrasted because a central theme of both has to do with a love affair between and older male and a younger female. In both cases the girls are very similar--bright, but with too much time on their hands; typically American, but transported to a foreign (France, Japan) culture; naive, but with an itch for greater sophistication, and ripe for a controversial liaison. Both find their adventure through a relationship with an older male, and their characters develop some depth of understanding as a result of that encounter. The older males in each case, however, are completely different from each other, and it is on that basis that these two films need to be opposed.

The male of Le Divorce is a traditional cad--an unrepentant hedonist who enjoys nothing so much as taking advantage of precocious young women. In exchange for their sexual favors he expands on their worldly sophistication, but if they develop any depth of character along the way, he soon loses interest. He doesn't `want' to have a serious relationship, and is too arrested in terms of his own emotional development to handle one. As a result, when they eventually outgrow him, he moves on to find yet another.

Inversely, the male in Lost In Translation is a kind of `Cyrano De Bergerac' figure, self-conscious about his role in relation to the younger girl. Whether he would like to seduce her or not, the fact remains that he does `care' about her. Naively, she might be willing to settle for sex, but that would be taking advantage of her, when what she really needed was a friend. He has to struggle with that dilemma. Ultimately he is able to resolve it in such a way that they both grow from the experience and learn to love each other on a much higher level. For that reason it is a much better film, speaking to the integrity of the human spirit and not just its passions.

Not just another `Dumb & Dumber' film, but there is more than one dummy involved. An inveterate schlemozel takes up ventriloquism and finds his alter-ego through the puppet. He's Jewish, of course, aren't they all? He lives at home with his folks and has no life. His sister is as neurotic as he is, his retired dad plays with plastic models, and his mom thinks the answer to every problem is that you should eat something. His best (and only) friend is a totally wacked out shiksa with a heavy-metal band that can't get a gig, and is even less sophisticated than the schlemozel (were that possible). He loses his job and ends up falling in love with another shiksa who works at the unemployment office, and who has a child out of wedlock. All burned out on losers she is of course ripe for an adult child with an emotionally arrested development. The best lines are said by the `real' dummy, who isn't even given a name. Amusing, but perhaps more so for those who are conventionally Jewish and don't mind laughing at the Woody Allen version of Jewish culture.

One of the problems with Christian Zeal is its tendency to believe that everyone should think like `they' do, whether others want to, need to, or not. Those viewed as less `civilized,' therefore, in European terms, must be converted, one way or another, where destroying the native culture was considered both necessary and desirable. It's an odd point of view, shamefully illustrated in this excellent film, but hardly limited to the period in question. Then, children may have been `forcibly' removed from their native culture to be raised as glorified slaves; now, they are merely seduced by global consumerism and `McCulture' to become drudges to our fads and trends. Indeed, they had a hard time finding three aboriginal children to play the leads in this tale because, by now, they mostly showed up for casting, looking, behaving and thinking, like any other kids from Sidney or Chicago. That is the real tragedy of this film, not just what happened before.

The film makes it seem that the policy of the Australian government in the 1930s, of virtually `kidnaping' the children of aboriginals if they could be identified as half-castes, and then training them to be servants of the Europeans, was both racist and morally reprehensible. But while no one today would argue that it wasn't, the film makes it seem that we have outgrown that kind of thing, when in fact we have not. We are `still' trying to destroy what is unique about other cultures, it's just that we have replaced Christian Zeal with mass consumerism. `Buying' things, and identifying with movie stars and sports heroes, has replaced the mythologies of the past, reducing all cultures to a stupefying blandness in which being someone means being just like everyone else.

Molly didn't go along with the crowd, but she is portrayed as an exception and not an example. Therefore, we can agree that her exception was heroic, without learning anything from her example. What `she' did was inspiring, but what does it mean to us? The film lets us watch passively and vicariously, without any involvement from us. But if we don't just dismiss her as an exception, her story is as much about us as it was about her. We `too' have the brainwashers that seek to rob us of our culture and make of us servants, only now they are we, and the true culture we have to return to is rejected in preference to the fake. There is a lesson to be learned from Molly's example, but few will find it in this film, because what ultimately must change are the values of the people (we), not the culture (they).

The problem for `child' actors is that, obviously, they cannot remain children forever, and what was `cute' about childish behavior, isn't anymore when they grow up. The other problem is that the entertainment industry provides a poor role-model for adult behavior. Child actors are encouraged to be like miniature adults, in that fantasy world -- to dress like, talk like, and share the values of, adults who are always trying to push the envelope in the direction of an `anything goes' morality. Hence, when they grow up, their perceptions of reality have already been spoiled, and there is no more room for them at the top. What do they do, therefore, when all they know is show business, and their careers were over before they became adults, this film asks us to consider?

Is it really fair to argue, as so many try to do, that they should be `grateful' for having achieved such success at an immature age? What child wouldn't be `envious' of them, those who have never had the experience might claim? Hence, it would seem that all their endless whining, as adults, merely betrays a kind of selfishness and ingratitude, as though they should be entitled to even more. Shouldn't they be `satisfied' to be remembered for their childhood achievements, and not ask for more? But this is to speak of ending a vocation that has only just begun. Such arguments might be fine for `adults' facing retirement after a long and prosperous career, but for children?

Those who view this film with feelings of jealousy will undoubtedly come away with the conviction that child actors are just a bunch of spoiled, unappreciative brats, whose antics as adults are inexcusable. They should accept their retirement by spending the rest of their lives signing autographs, and sharing memories with their fans about the glories of the past. In reality, however, that's a lot to expect from an adult, and a torment to expect from a child. Small wonder, therefore, that all the former child actors who participated in this film were unanimous in delivering one message to the audience that once launched them to stardom: yo guck fourself!

A very amusing comedy-of-errors farce in which the lives of multiple characters become intertwined in ways none of them are aware of at the time. Not so laudably, however, it romanticizes the idea of robbery, even though the point is more about settling scores and taking risks. In general, it tends to make the lessor argument seem the better by blurring the ethical questions. For example, what is the difference between moral versus legal theft? If someone amasses a fortune through `legal' thievery, exploiting the desperate by selling them false dreams, is it therefore justifiable for the victims to steal from the perpetrator on moral grounds? In other words, are there `any' circumstances under which thievery, as defined by law, can be justified for other than legal reasons? Unfortunately, when we look for `exceptions' to excuse criminal behavior, we can always find them, and then we are faced with the dilemma of determining which is ultimately wrong.

The film does not address such implications. Rather, it merely assumes that robbery `can' be justified under certain conditions, and then attempts to provide them. Evidently, robbery is okay as a means to get even with a false lover, or to break away from the `prison' of conventional values, to realize one's dreams, or to seek vengeance against thieves of the more `legal' variety. But while the moral ambiguities of this film are regrettable, the situations faced by the characters are too absurd to be taken seriously, and hence it succeeds as a farce. In reality, only a certifiable moron would conclude that this film was actually tying to promote robbery as an excusable act, it's just that morons aren't as rare as they used to be.

Quirky story about a woman's search for meaning following a failed marriage. Not much depth or character development, but the scenes in Tuscany are captivating. Rather an annoying treatment of the tiresome, typically American sexual shallowness: fall for the guy with the schmoozy line, jump in bed for hot torrid sex on the very first day out, confuse such athletics with a serious commitment to a relationship, and then pine away endlessly when, of course, he loses interest. She never learns anything about what makes serious relationships work, and even though her fairy-tale notions of romance backfire, repeatedly for her, continues to cling to the naive notion that `love will conquer all.' Indeed, the story `promotes' that point of view, excessively, while trivializing a more sober reflection.

For example, there is a sub-plot involving the daughter of a local gentleman, who falls in love with an immigrant young laborer from Poland, who has nothing to offer but his youthful passion and his hopes and dreams, but the lead character champions their desires against the better advise of the father. The father tries wisely but in vain to argue that the passions of youth tend to fade, all too quickly, after which there must be more than that on which to build a lasting relationship. But although no words could be more meaningful, he is dismissed as an old fuddy-duddy, out of touch with the greater truth of `laaahve.'

This is a film which makes it seem as though fairy-tale notions of human relationships were ultimately desirable, even if they never seem to work out as imagined. It offers no insights into what actions or reasoning processes might result in more healthy relationships. Rather, it promotes the view that repeating the mistakes of the past often enough is the best way to find success. However, being committed to the same point of view, while expecting different results, stands almost as the definition of insanity. Pretending that it isn't so by calling it `romance' changes nothing.

Western-themed films were once cranked out so commonly that even the movie house managers joked about them, calling them `Horse Operas,' or more derisively, `Oaters.' Eventually they became satirized with films like `Blazing Saddles,' and then they disappeared. With rare exception, they were made to attract the male audience, and like war films, offered nothing that the ladies could find appealing. Somewhat more recently, however, the genre has been experiencing a revival, with stories that also include some adult relationship issues. The males are still portrayed as larger-than-life heroes, and the emphasis is still more on action and gun fights, but there is also some character development, and at least one female who is not just there for them to ride away from in the end.

This is an example of that later type of western. It is, of course, a melodrama, with justifiable good-guys out-numbered by loathsome bad-guys; there is plenty of action and dead bodies to count, and the setting is suitably gritty. The good-guys are appropriately taciturn, yet occasionally sentimental, and even capable of a romantic twitching. There is at least one female to remind them of their humanity, and whom they can't just ride away from in the end. If that isn't enough to attract a strong feminine audience, at least it makes for a better western than the old-fashioned variety. It is still, largely, a `males only' film, but one that the gals won't find hopelessly boring. Indeed, all the obligatory violence aside, it yields a reasonably romantic story.

Every American parent should be required by law to see this film, preferably alone. Admittedly, the story presents a somewhat stereotypical example of the problem, because in both cases the moms are no more mature than their daughters and equally messed up in their thinking. Indeed, thanks to their emerging adolescence and pathological peer identification, the girls are merely more extreme in their acting out than their moms. Because they have imprinted the dysfunctional thinking of their parents--the absentee fathers are no better, more responsible parents might erroneously conclude that this sort of material is not for them. Yet it is, and for one very important reason: peer bonding.

Parents get to raise their children, instill what they imagine to be good values, and so forth, for about the first dozen years. After that, it is from their age-dependent peers that they take their direction, and not their parents. It is most unfortunate that our culture has devolved to the point where it promotes age-relatedness above all else, but while it continues to wreak havoc on the crucial developmental years of adolescence, as a culture we refuse to give it up. As a result, upon entering adolescence they will not listen to the opinions of anyone except those of their own age. Even those raised by the most responsible parents rebel and react to parental authority, often by falling in with what their parents consider the `wrong' crowd, thus obtaining their lessons in life the hard way.

Our society is culturally bankrupt. Our young take their lessons from each other. When they look for direction they find it in the likes of Britney Spears. We have so `sexualized' our culture that even the children look to sex as a rite of passage. Being an `adult' means having gratuitous, unloving sex, preferably with drugs involved. Sex for the sake of sex is promoted everywhere in our culture, and no one finds anything wrong with that until some child gets raped and murdered by a psycho. Even then we blame the psycho and not our perverted cultural values. Well, sit back and enjoy a view of where our blindness is leading us, and if you think it will never touch your kids, have a look next door.