Reviews

I am not surprised to read that CLOSER is also play since I left the theater thinking that this doesn't seem like a story to be filmed. There is precious little to work with here cinematic ally but Nichols likes his bleakness, cold lighting, dull colors and he is right at home with those techniques in this movie. These are four joyless characters, and the filming reflects this--there is nothing sensual about the movie--no colors, no soft textures, no food, no wine, nothing that reminds us of the link between sensuality and love. And that's an important missing ingredient since love is paraded around as the the subject of all of their conversations. CLOSER is love minus the joy of feeling, which is to say, the opposite of love. Lack of sensuality is what makes pornography and CLOSER isn't far from that kind of portrayal.

These characters are one dimensional and they strike the same note too often, but let's toss aside realism and viewed from a metaphorical perspective of power masked as love, the movie succeeds. At one point a character says "this is not a war" but of course it is. What else could you call deliberate cruelty in order to gain power over another? The women and men vie for power and the men are also at war with each other. I recognized male sexuality as territoriality easily in the film but the female sexuality was harder to pin down (ah, no pun intended). The female roles in this movie are something I've never quite seen before, as equally brutal about sexuality and power as are the men. There is no effort in this movie to walk the fine line between Madonna and whore--which is, of course, closer to the truth. I think the movie misses the mark, however, in that there is almost no exploration into the women's feelings about each other. There is an implicit sexism in this movie in that men can sustain many conflicts whereas women can only handle one gender at a time. We all know this isn't true and the movie suffers a little from this lack of recognition. As anyone knows, relationships between women after the same men are complicated, highly charged and very interesting. The one scene between the women merely serves to set up another scene between a couple. What a HUGE letdown. Kundera didn't do that to us in THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING, by the way. Note how that scene in Kundera's book and in the movie adds an entire layer to the story that CLOSER lacks altogether. It doesn't have to be kindness that these women find, of course, but they would have feelings about one another equally as interesting as those with which the men grapple. That was the missed opportunity to strike another note, in my opinion.

There is talk of children between the couples but this sounds as depthless as the conversations about love. They know what they're supposed to say and do only they have no idea how to reconcile the fact that they don't want to say or do those things. Society, although open to new roles for women (by economic necessity in my opinion), is still a restrictive force. Celibacy means failure; multiple partners means failure. One is supposed to exist only in the "happy couples" format once one reaches a certain age. This is also one of those movies where no one has any parents or friends, heightening the importance of their romances and their dalliances.

This movie got one thing right, though--the old adage is b.s. on screen--the closest way to a man's heart is not through his stomach. Just ask Godard and Fellini.

I had written a negative review of ONE HOUR PHOTO a couple of years ago when it came out and then regretted writing it because I've since undertaken a more studied approach to films. So, I thought, I'll delete that comment and watch it again in the spirit of anticipating artistry. I'll be more charitable, I thought, see things that I missed before; I'll come out a fan. Of course, you know from my heavy-handed foreshadowing (borrowing one of the director's approaches) that it never happened. I like this film much less than I did the first time.

To be fair, there are some successful aspects of this enterprise. At one point I noted that the film technique far surpasses the story. The movie is slick-looking, indeed. The use of color is rampant, albeit largely meaningless. The lighting is affective and needs desperately to be tied to a story and a character. The acting never caught my attention which is a good thing.

But the movie is so painfully plodding that I thought at one point that the filmmaker must be a famous person's son who had a lot of money and a lot of Hollywood ties (look at the cast--even the day roles are names) and a nebulous idea that he ultimately couldn't pull off. I haven't yet investigated that theory but I did read that this is a former music video director. That explains a lot--visuals without meaning. This movie is contrived, manipulative, and follows all of the Hollywood clichés--it just LOOKS like it doesn't. One can only guess at the positive critical responses, but I'll bet you that none of the critics watched it a second time.

This movie reminds me of smart people who want to write but who don't read. They're capable, perhaps, but nearly knowledge-free of the greatness in their chosen medium. As one IMDb user put it (and I'm sorry I can't remember who) "art isn't easy."

This is not a movie. It is a filmed play, which is a kind of silly idea in my opinion. It certainly relieves several people working on a movie from having to be very creative in their jobs, such as the director and the cinematographer. Even the editor has it easy, unless they are truly invested in making it visually interesting. Because Oleanna is nothing if not a visual bore. Mamet has never cared much for setting, lighting, acting, or any of the technical devices that filmmakers use to weave together an interesting piece of film. I don't understand why he even makes movies since he is so obviously disinterested in film-making as an art form. One could say money or a larger audience for his solipsistic dialogue and I would agree on both counts.

I confess that I am one of those people who finds Mamet dialogue overwrought, and again, solipsistic. If it is the genius of great playwrights to find unique voices for their characters, Mamet has found only his own voice which he crams through whatever characters are handy. At an amazing velocity. I've never witnessed characters who say so much and yet so little that is meaningful. Certainly I can understand that we humans do use language this way and perhaps that is the point. But do I need two hours of that to get the point? Of course there is another point, except that no one can figure it out. And when no one (meaning professional critics and professors) can figure it out it suddenly takes on the "provocative" label, and the rest of us are reduced to near idiots if we disagree with the label--and Mamet adds another trophy to his wall of narcissism. He argues with himself in this movie and the rest of us are forced to listen (unless we turn it off which I considered about every five minutes). I didn't turn it off because of one thing, however: I wanted to read all of the gushing reviews from people who believe that it sounds like a piece of art so it must be a piece of art. Well, it is certainly a piece of something, but art it isn't.

Several of the positive professional critical responses to this film began with something gushing about Jeff Bridges'performance and really, Jeff Bridges in general. I agree. And that's where I and the critics part ways. I read the book several years ago and I've never been much impressed with Irving's fiction, except for the comedic aspect. To me, he's a John Grisham for the comedy genre--only he needs to think more about screenplays when he's composing his novels--Grisham's forte. There are no genuine characters (Irving tapes on some idiosyncrasies for the appearance of real character) and everything is as neatly contrived as it is in any legal/love story. Following a pattern of more skilled writers, however, Irving will allow an unhappy ending--that's the kind of thing that gets a positive review in the NY Times Book Review.

So, the movie was doomed from the get-go. My own bias is that I prefer small movies about real people. I like characters and their development. I don't need a lot of effort on fancy plots and I don't need for a striking set of coincidences to occur to remind me that I'm watching a (stupid) movie. Again, Irving loves coincidence--it's his form of empty faith, empty because it is without a philosophy. At any rate,the filmmaker never finds a tone that works and therefore skips around melodrama, angst, light comedy, perhaps so that we'll be so confused that we won't notice the absolute lack of character.

There's not any particularly interesting camera-work in this movie save one shot in which three characters are framed like one of the pictures in the upstairs hall. This was so out of the ordinary in the film, however, that it was jarring rather than seamless. The cinematographer's job in this movie was to make it look "tony" as one reviewer said. It's just another Hollywood movie in which despicable people live their unhappy lives in the kinds of places where normal people would have to pay for a tour. Maybe it's the audience's own masochistic fault that we like to grind our noses in stuff we can't have.

Also, Kim Basinger is one of the most overrated actresses in the history of film. I've never, not one single time, seen her on screen when she didn't look as if she'd just come from a fresh beating. She embodies victimhood in the way that Julia Roberts embodies charm. Basinger cringes into each frame and delivers her typically flat (thudding) lines as if she wishes to be anywhere else but on a movie set. Someone, anyone, needs to introduce her to the idea of acting and character. Maybe pretending to be someone else would cheer her up.

Unraveling the mystery of the positive critical response to this piece of offensive nonsense has been exponentially more intriguing than the torture of actually watching the film. But I think I've got the answer, or at least part of it. Every once in a while a film comes along that critics would normally pan, but they don't do so because they think, on some level, that Americans are too stupid to figure out what's going on in this country politically. I just can't come up with any other reasonable answer because this is one of the worst films I've ever seen given everything it had going for it before filming.

Others here have articulated the travesty far better than I can, so I'll just mention a couple of the gargantuan mistakes in order to vent a little. The Cold War threat was a fear that had some merit and people were truly uneasy about it. The threat of corporations running the American government is not a threat, but a widely accepted reality. Dear Demme: do you even know who George Bush and Dick Cheney are??? It's hard to invoke the eerie paranoia of the original film when our fears have been replaced with deep resignation. Oooo--scare me with rich, greedy capitalists controlling elections. I am not being cynical when I say that this is the reality, and everybody knows it. To make a film announcing that fact is ludicrous (and offensive).

But that is only one of many reasons why the movie is so incredibly boring. Underlying the original film was a sense of bizarre humor, (remember the ladies tea party?) a sense of things going just a bit awry. This type of subtlety is far more intriguing (and frightening)than a director beating you on the head with blood and gore, pointless extreme close-ups, scenery-chewing, predictable dialogue, inept jump cuts, foolish star-packing (why have Miguel Ferrer if he's just going to stand around and look bewildered--do we NEED a recognizable actor for that role?)a blaring soundtrack, unclear exposition, zero regard for even minimal character development, and an ending that is far too long and far too pat.

Now that I think about it, I'm glad this movie was made. We now have a perfect pairing of films, the original and this one, to show precisely what has gone wrong with mainstream American film.

Here's a review for people like me. This movie sucks from beginning to end. I threw popcorn at the screen and resorted to entertaining myself a la MSF2000. The plot hinges on chance happenings and relies on stupidity from people who are supposed to be smart. The lead falls for a con man and it doesn't occur to her that she might get conned????? And she's rich???? And she's a famous psychologist????? COME ON, people. She enters the bar at just the most convenient moment when everyone is assembled to talk about conning her??? That was so staged that it felt like slap in the face to even half-witted movie viewers. Rain man would have been insulted. I also admit that I despise Mamet dialogue with the kind of passion that some people have for meat-eaters, war-starters, and fur-wearers. My hatred is so complete that it defies logic. But I'll give it a shot. That it's not supposed to sound real is fine. I don't care. It's that everyone talks the SAME. Mamet can't create characters; all he can do is foist his voice on us relentlessly through different actors. No wonder his actors are so wooden. They're confused about everyone being the same character. (However, his later films do improve.)

This is definitely an intriguing story and the casting was magnificent. There wasn't a weak performance in the film. And that also speaks to the quality of the material, both the book and the screenplay. I think the problem with the movie is the director. Demme is not the kind of director who can generate convincing conflicting emotions in his creations. And, in a film like this, that's a fatal flaw. That's all this story is about--conflicting emotions. And Demme's inability to demonstrate that failed his cast, crew and the audience. Beloved is one of the greatest American novels and it deserved so much more than this director was able to give.

This movie was delight from beginning to end. It is so rare to see such a light-hearted comedy these days--such a sweet relief. I do feel bad for the Welsh gentleman who took such offense at the film. Surely he doesn't know how starved filmgoers are for light comedies which don't rely on disgust or humiliation for their central themes. I was almost grateful to see this movie. Frame by frame I relaxed into quite a sweet story. To me, it wasn't about a particular region or history but any community's joint pride and willingness to work together to achieve some greater good. Most places are missing those very valuable qualities. It was nice to see them, if only in fiction.

I've just viewed the film in its entirety for the first time and already know that this one of those film experiences that will never leave me. It's as powerful a film as I have ever seen.

I don't understand most of the criticism from IMDB users about this movie, though I did notice that a lot of it seems to come from people who seem to be generally anti-American so I can roundly disregard those opinions (because they're about something else, not the movie). Then there's the young American viewer who spent several paragraphs describing how they "didn't get it" (hahahaha) and ultimately blamed the filmmakers for the viewer's own lack of historical knowledge and perspective. (I don't know whether to laugh or curse at that.)

Time after time, people said that the movie is overly long and that the wedding scene in particular is long. Yeah, on both counts, but this movie wasn't made in 2000; it didn't star Bruce Willis and it wasn't aimed at adults with the attention span of five-year-olds. Many dramas made in or about the 70s took on that style of filmmaking--long scenes that build slowly (i.e., Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, All the President's Men, Marathon Man, Dog Day Afternoon--to cite just a few examples.)

If you like gritty dramas, can take brutality onscreen, know anything or are just interested in the Vietnam era and, above all, know a little bit about even recent film history, you will love this movie.

This movie was one of the bridges to the contemporary action movie that has no plot at all and is unabashed about that fact. It is the melding between the 90s attempt at plot and the ever-increasing tendency for all violence all the time with some hot babe shots thrown in. Viewed from the perspective of today's movies with their plasticine-looking heroes and heroines, Davis and Jackson come off as nostalgically genuine and charming.

There are some real laugh out loud moments in this movie, though, and there's a sense of joy in the script and the performances, as if they were having a good time. Action movies/TV today seem like somber enterprises where everyone takes themselves much, much too seriously. (Jennifer Garner projects, for example.)

The movie is a lot of fun and pretends to be nothing else. It was even advertised at the time as a fun movie (tho I've just now watched it, I've seen the previews recently.) I don't understand the poor reviews that seem to compare it to great, serious filmmaking when it was not even marginally aimed at that genre.

I don't get all of the great comments about this movie, but then I'm not a fan of spoofs of any kind. I think I'm in a minority, however. I just find them so predictable with such a lack of inspiration. Cold Comfort Farm is no exception. Not only did I not find it funny, I nearly turned it off halfway through from sheer excruciating boredom. It was awful. Trite, hackneyed, awful.

The movie was written by the main character and his heroic battle for good, ethical journalistic coverage in the outbreak of a war. He's portrayed as movie-flawed (likes vodka) but a good person and goshdarnit, a damned fine journalist. That's how the writer portrays himself. And that indicates the veracity of many of the other "factual" events in the movie. Others have spelled out the errors so I will not reiterate.

Funny that a journalist who apparently thinks that he's among the best and the bravest chose not nonfiction to tell his story, but made up a story to tell us.

I also have a minor issue with women wearing more make-up than drag queens in impossible situations like wars. I mean, I thought we left that silly movie practice in the 80s. What if the story broke and you had only one eye finished????

I liked everything about this movie, the story, casting, acting, direction, everything. Some frames are so beautiful that they look like paintings (think Degas and one frame, Seurat). The casting was perfect and Richardson delivered one of the bravest and best performances I've ever seen. The tension between both pairs of women--it was an amazing way to build suspense. Even if you don't completely understand the relationship between the two sisters, their passion is obvious. What a great find this movie is.

The art world in NYC is the least movie-worthy crowd in the world. There are so many pretentions that you couldn't grind your way down to real character with a jackhammer. Yet, it was inevitable that one of them would try--and get backing for it (and also show their own paintings). What a trite exercise in narcissism this movie is. They liken Basquiat to Van Gogh in the opening narration and never follow up on the assertion. Why? Because they can't. His work was the beginning of cultural diversity and the end of a (published) critical eye. But that doesn't even address the failure of the movie--the characters are lifeless; the story is typically uninteresting and the direction adequate. I agree with the person who commented that this was a wasted cast.

This movie doesn't have enough character development to be called anything more than a video game strung out for an hour and a half. Even someone from Israel thought it was gratuitously violent and that's saying something. I have seen other Avary films and am now convinced that he is an uninspired writer and creator. He merely rehashes what he's already seen, cranking up the violence, drugs, sex to a level that would send Metallica fans screaming for a quiet English garden. The man has nothing to say, apparently, so I suggest that he find another means to carry out his adolescent fantasies as he enters his forties.

First, I don't believe in praising people for anything who refuse to face their criminal actions. What if Timothy McVeigh had made a good movie? The scale of the crime is different but the principle is the same. What if the guy who kidnapped Elizabeth Smart turned out to be this really cool dude with an artistic vision? Would Hollywood give either of these people a standing ovation at the Oscars? What if Polanski had violated one of their 13 year-old children? I think the outcome would have been a bit different. (For you kids who came along late in the game--The victim was 13 and Polanski raped her and fled to Europe to escape punishment. France would be the country that lets him live freely as a fugitive from justice, if you hadn't guessed that already.)

But the movie itself angers me as well. Critics, paid and not, have praised everything about this movie--its honesty, artistry, acting, etc. Sure, it's a technically fine movie. Smarter critics have noted that it isn't a predictable "triuph of human spirit". It is wholly observational as some have mentioned. But the underlying premise of this movie is unbearable and could only be made by a man like Polanski, who thinks that art erases crime. The premise is that the artist must be spared no matter what, even if he doesn't want to be. Good, decent people must die, kind of like sacrifices, for the greater artist who must live live live, no matter what kind of person they are. Only Hollywood would applaud this diabolical level of narcissism. Ethical human beings, artists and others, would not. If Polanski were honest and upstanding he would have made a movie about a film director coincidentally spared in the Holocaust who tragically lost his wife and unborn child and then went on to drug and rape a thirteen year old girl (a passion he continued unhindered in Europe. Just ask Kinski.) Let's see the child molestation film, Polanski. (That people *thank* him on this site is truly bewildering. I hope you don't plan to introduce him to your adolescent daughters.)

This movie is also a big flip-off to the US (why not Germany? why not make this film in Polish or French? It was aimed like a warhead to the US.) Polanski seems to snicker to himself at our gullibility, at our reliable tendency to confuse the appreciation of art with establishing our own identities. You are what you like in America. And Polanski cleverly capitalizes on this national identity crisis. There are the people who trip over themselves to stutter about their favorite artists, and they use the word "artist" as an insult to the less informed. Those people generally love Polanski. And he knows it. Here is the movie to prove it.

Completely without reference to its creator, "The Pianist" is only a pretty good movie. You know the story and you've more or less seen the scenes and heard the dialogue in other movies. There is nothing new here in writing or direction. It is well acted (Brody was just fine)and stark enough with enough shocking scenes to elucidate a little of the terror of the Holocaust. I have, however, seen more gripping scenes about the same subject (see: The Grey Zone, among others). "The Pianist" doesn't have smooth edges (the other reason it's gotten so much acclaim. I'm surprised there's not some Indie formula now to rough up the edges of movies. Hint hint--don't be neat. Leave your movie's shoes untied.) But overall, this movie is not a great accomplishment. Polanski should have the courage to tell his own story and face its consequences in the real world instead of pandering to actors and the US indie crowd. He is a coward and a criminal and we should view his movies through that lens. Polanski is trying to tell us something with this movie, but I don't think what he's trying to say is honorable.

I didn't find much "thrill" in this thriller but that doesn't mean it isn't worth watching. I loved the story about the blind woman who gets a transplant and can see for the first time since she was a little girl. I like her strong will and defiance and her ironically delicate job as a violinist. I like the way she deals with her troubled past and can just announce to strangers what has happened to her. I like her stormy relationship with a jaded bachelor cop almost past his prime. All of this was told and played brilliantly. I wish that they'd just left the thriller aspect out and concentrated on these two believable, real and interesting characters. That was the movie to make. Stowe is particularly good in these kinds of roles and I count myself as a fan after seeing this and Twelve Monkeys.

I loved this small movie, mainly because of the plucky main character played brilliantly and flawlessly by Robin Tunney (who I admired in Niagara, Niagara as well). You can't take your eyes off of her. The story is sad, weird and everything an indie movie should be about except the thriller part--which I alsoliked. This movie had all kinds of pace and moved easily from first to fifth gear in the third act. I loved the use of color, especially in the stalker's daydreams. This movie is like one of those intensely interesting abstract paintings--you're not sure what it all means or how it connects but it is a joy to look at and think about. Oh and the soundtrack is fabulous. I read a review that talked about the prison of pop songs in their unrelenting subjectivity, like a stalker's adoration. I would like to think that that very thought inspired this movie.

I have never read the book from which this film was made but I can say that the only thought the movie inspired in me was: Why would anyone, given the information the fishermen had, try to make it through that storm? The movie portrayed the fishermen as morons for trying (what's a fate worse than a terrifying death--certainly not being short on rent one month?) And then there is a tacked on appeal to treat them as heroes? Who did they save? What great thing did they accomplish? Again, maybe this was a poor adaptation.

The lack of plot, character depth, etc., of course is no issue because this movie is all about just one scene, the big wave. To make us slog through an hour of drivel just to get to a couple of neat shots is unforgivable. I saw this for free and I still feel cheated.

This would be a charming movie for 14-year olds who have no idea about the world around them. If "Tadpole" cold have stayed in this vein, it probably would have won awards. Instead, it meanders through adult territory which it clearly has no business being in because all "adult" problems are swept under an adolescent rug with square dialogue and an uninspired cast. Like "Cruel Intentions" I disliked this movie for the obvious teen marketing spin on adult themes. It's obvious why most intelligent adults don't go for this stuff. It's stilted, beyond its years and only mildly entertaining.

Croupier is a kind of character study of someone I, at least, don't know personally. That in and if itself makes the film interesting. But there are plot devices and a noir lens on the events as they unravel. I found the film compelling. I never knew what direction we were taking while watching it. The director doesn't want you to easily identify with the main character and if you're ok with that, then you'll probably love this movie.

Dorothy Parker was certainly a character and a witty writer, but the lives of writers are typically hard to film for obvious reasons. This movie does an adequate job and Jennifer Jason Leigh turns in the best possible performance (as we've come to expect from her). The script and the other characterizations are a bit thin but this movie is definitely worth it of you happen to be a Parker fan. Men don't make passes...