Pretentious, amateurish experimental film
21 June 2023
My review was written in May 1991 after a screening in the Directors Fortnight of the Cannes Film Festival.

Legit director Peter Sellars' debut film is a pretentious silent feature that resembles a student film out of control. Tedious, often cryptic effort was shot using the old Academy 1.33:1 aspect ratio, making it suitable for public tv.

Using static camera throughout, Sellars begins fairly coherently with morose stockbroker Peter Gallagher witnessing his black co-worker and roommate Gregory Wallace gorily murdered at work by a disgruntled old guy. In a separate incident straight out of "Wall Street", their boss is taken away by undercover agents in handcuffs.

Gallagher's estranged girlfriend Joan Cusack has a weird, traumatic encounter on the street with homeless derelict Mikhail Baryshnikov. She's soon having romantic nightmares about him that seem to come true, climaxing in her falling (apparently fatally) from a bridge.

Baryshnikov is under the power of another derelict, mysterious Ron Vawter, who looks like Italian star Gian Maria Volonte but has a snake-like scar down the middle of his face. Confusing later footage shows Baryshnikov apparently plummeting to his death (and possibly becoming re-animated by Vawter).

Coda resembles a stupid lift form "The Wizard of Oz', as major and minor characters (like cops and the undercover agents) reappear in dual roles at a clinic run by Vawter (sans scar). Baryshinkov and Cuasack's best friend Kate Valk are orderlies there; Cusack and Gallagher are patients.

Sellars finally turns off the music score for a boring 360-degree shot that ends the film on Gallagher, possibly implying that he imagined the whole thing.

Displaying little command of film technique, Sellars fails to organize his material in the rigorous fashion needed to convey information in a silent format. Confusing crosscutting in the middle reels destroys continuity and has scenes contradicting each other.

Though the static compositions are classical, occasional use of skip-frame, time-lapse editing within a shot disrupts the viewer's concentration. Using business card to make doggerel pronouncements (Wallace receives a "You have one day to live" message that comes true) is ridiculous.

John Adams' bombastic symphonic music is the dominant contrast throughout. It veers from the traditional romanticism of a Miklos Rozsa or Bronislau Kaper to the noisy lower-register blasts of John Corigliano's "Altered States" score whenever a horror scene is intended.

David Watkin's visuals are mainly mundane looking like a well-shot 16mm student short. Occasionally romantic tableaux of Cusack clash with the unflattering, no-makeup close-ups she gets.

Despite his top billing, Baryshnikov has little to do in an ill-conceived role that pays homage to the somnambulist of Wiene's classic. Gallagher, often on the phone and looking like he stepped off the set of "Sex, Lies and Videotape", does a decnet job when not encouraged to overact, but Cusack's silent hysteria holds no threat to the memory of classic divas.

David Lynch was listed as the pic's execuitve producer during production, but his name does not appear in the final credits.
0 out of 0 found this helpful. Was this review helpful? Sign in to vote.
Permalink

Recently Viewed