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Reviews
The Mothman Prophecies (2002)
Fear = Gere
There are two main types of fear fear of the unknown, and fear of the inevitable. Based on real-life accounts of a mysterious figure that appears prior to catastrophies, The Mothman Prophecies combines the two.
John Klein (Gere) has his first encounter soon after deciding to buy a house with his beautiful wife, Mary (Messing). During the drive home, the Mothman' suddenly appears in front of the car, causing Mary to spin the car out of control. Although nobody is killed in the following accident, Mary becomes convinced that something is wrong and sure enough, doctors discover that she has an inoperable brain cancer. Although John never actually saw the apparition, he discovers various sketches in Mary's diary that clearly depict the Mothman. However, as a journalist with The Washington Post, he's not inclined to fixate on the supernatural, instead turning to the very real problem of grief. Two years later, John is driving to an assignment when he suddenly and unaccountably ends up halfway across the state, in a small town called Point Pleasant. His strange transportation isn't the only strange thing happening in the small West Virginian town, as he soon discovers by way of a shotgun greeting from local Gordon Smallwood (Patton). Local policewoman Connie Mills (Linney) is called out to the Smallwood residence to question John, and despite the fact that he has no idea where he is or how he got there, the lack of evidence to support Gordon's claims that he has been stalking the residence over the past three days means that he is set free. The next day, John slowly begins to gather evidence of multiple Mothman sightings in the town and becomes fixated on determining the nature of the phenomenon, and if possible, averting the unknown yet seemingly inevitable catastrophe that must surely follow. The Mothman Prophecies has gained a great deal of acclaim as being a fantastic horror/suspense film, apart from the long overdue climax, there is very little that is really scary or even spooky about this film. Pellington attempts to play it out as a suspense film, but ultimately the film seems to drag its heels before getting to the point. The film relies heavily on cinematography to create an eerie atmosphere, with odd camera angles, movement and transitions, but with limited effect. Some of the shots are clever, but even these seem to be about cleverness for its own sake rather than supporting the narrative. One scene which is bound to put some viewers off-guard revolves (literally) around Gordon's face to face encounter with the Mothman. Other viewer's will recognise it for what it is an almost shot for shot reproduction of Richard Dreyfus' encounter of the third kind from Spielberg's classic. Although based on actual events, as recounted in John Keel's book, one gets the impression that serious liberties have been taken in this film adaptation. The journalist and the policewoman develop an unexplained intimacy almost immediately, although it never results in anything that would betray his love and grief for his dead wife. It is in the interpersonal relationships that this film truly fails, a fear of the inevitable that can be neatly summed up with Richard Gere's ability to act'. If you really want to look at the supernatural, check out the longevity of his career and the huge sums of money he commands for his performances and pit it against his ability to portray human emotions of any kind. Now that's scary. The Mothman Prophecies is an interesting film, but hardly the nail-biting descent into terror that its hype suggests. If it was a work of pure fiction, it would more than likely be entirely discardable. On the upside, the inevitable paperback version of Keel's book that will accompany the film's release should make for some thrilling reading.
Life as a House (2001)
Tuning up your heartstrings
We are all familiar with the common devices that Hollywood uses to evoke (or manipulate) an emotional response from the audience; a soft stare into the sunset as the strings gently sway or a cream pie in the face usually has us laughing or crying like an overwrought Pavlovian dog. In fact, these techniques have become so typical that they're like emotional cue cards for us, the cynical audience, as if we are the bad actors that need help. Of course, every now and again, a film comes along that does it so perfectly that you have to give credit where it is due and Life As A House is such a film. The storyline is fairly familiar, middle aged man is diagnosed with terminal illness and has a few short months to put his affairs in order and give the relationships he's neglected their proper due the kind of thing that normally makes for a sure thing' come the Academy Awards night. Even so, there's an incredible honesty in the performances of Life As A House's cast that transcends both the formula and the accompanying cynicism about such saccharine fare. In fact, it seems that the cast were thinking much more about the story and the interpersonal relationships throughout the narrative rather than writing drafts of their acceptance speeches. Kevin Kline takes the lead as George Monroe, a man diagnosed with terminal cancer at about the same time he is retrenched from his job building models for a firm of architects. He chooses not to share this information with his estranged family, comprising of the remarried Robin (Scott Thomas) and his decidedly wayward son Sam (Christensen). With his redundancy payment in one hand and his X-rays in the other, George decides that it is finally time to realise his dream of tearing down his beachside shack and building a house of his own in its place. Understanding that time is short, he enlists the help of his son, hoping that working on the project together will bring them closer together. Sam begins the film as the quintessentially insecure rebel without a hint of a cause' teenager, who has directed his self-hatred outward, screaming at everybody when he isn't inhaling butane while performing acts of auto-erotic self-asphyxiation. In other words, a pretty regular young adult. With his partially dyed hair, labret piercing and punkish mode of dressing, this reviewer let out an inward groan of disappointment; was this to be yet another Hollywood example of how all outsiders are essentially the same and will be much happier once they've learnt to conform and embrace family values', a la Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club? The short answer is yes and no'. Although Sam does make steps towards conforming, they are part of his character's natural journey into adulthood, and just this once, forgivable. It's pretty much the same with disgruntled George's journey into appreciating life, his family and friends. Central to all of this is the building of the house, a symbolic motif no less powerful for all of its obviousness. If it seems like we're having difficulty reconciling the use of clichéd devices with good filmmaking, you're right. The fact remains that Life As A House is a deeply moving story, exceptionally well told, featuring a fantastic cast. After the tear-jerking finale, a realisation dawned on your jaded film correspondent. While most of these saccharine films use emotional devices so bluntly that you get annoyed at the pummelling, Life As A House allows you to experience emotions that you'd normally devote a great deal of time protecting yourself from. In a world that despises weakness like never before, perhaps we need another Capra like never before.
Let this film take you where it will.
Dayereh (2000)
A Few Western Observations
While Jafar Panahi's previous feature films dealt with children, with Dayereh he delves into the contentious issue of women's issues in a highly restrictive society, his native Iran. The film uses a narrative device that Tarantino might be proud to steal, with Panahi's camera following various women through their specific plights, often chasing them through the streets in handheld mode. At any moment, the camera may decide to follow a different character, and although the specific details of the various women's situations may differ, the oppression which is a part of their daily lives is consistently omnipresent. One feature of the film that is part and parcel of its roving camera approach is that there is very little in the way of exposition or denouement in any of the narrative threads. This however, seems to be the point of the entire exercise; in a society that treats women as a lower class of citizen, individual details and circumstances have no bearing on their ability to achieve anything without the presence or authority of a husband or father.
veryday occurrences such as the purchase of a bus ticket to the simple act of smoking a cigarette in public can (and does) result in mandatory incarceration for any woman at any time. The structure of the film gives the impression that literally any woman you might bump into on the streets of Tehran is caught in such a comprehensively prohibitive society that could lead to what could only be considered unconscionable drama in Western society.
Although there are no significant male characters in this story, Panahi uses the entire gender en masse to illustrate the peculiar double standards that have insinuated itself through the fabric of this society. Men are constantly harassing women with inappropriate lewd remarks to which there can obviously be no response to. Simultaneously, if a woman behaves in a manner anything less than perfectly virtuous, her liberty is instantly forfeit.
In one scene, a woman starts to stand up for herself against a casually tossed piece of innuendo, and the audience can do nothing except anticipate the unjust retaliation that will surely be endorsed by the dozens of common passers-by. There are certain elements of the film that no doubt owe to the nature of making a film under these conditions; extras occasionally can't avoid staring at the camera crew, but strangely enough, this gives the film a feel of documentary film-making that somehow enhances the narrative. Nevertheless, there is nothing amateurish about the acting of the principal women, all of whom behave so convincingly that the film conveys a sense of constant danger. Furthermore, this nervous energy never lets up, as we move from story to story at a speed that allows us to experience discomfort, without reaching closure until the final scene, which in itself is a cause for distress.
It is unlikely that Dayereh will ever be a very popular film, as it has many of the 'feel-bad' qualities of films such as A Time For Drunken Horses, with even less sympathetic sentimentality. On an even sadder note, Dayereh has been banned in Iran, where a film of this nature most desperately needs to reach an audience. However, this seems to be the underlying message of the film; not that there are a great many injustices against women occurring in Iran on a daily basis, but that there is no indication of how or when it will stop. Only why.
Baise-moi (2000)
Written one week before it's blanket-ban in Australia
There can be no doubt about it, Baise-Moi (F*** Me) is one hell of a controversial film, as it depicts explicit sex of the type normally only found in X-rated films, yet it is currently screening in Australia despite having been banned in over 20 countries, including it's homeland the normally permissive France. Based on the award winning book of the same name, writer Virginie Despentes has teamed up with adult film-maker' Coralie Trinh Thi to bring to life the story of two women on a sex and murder spree throughout France. Let's dispense with the obsessive argument about censorship, shall we? Unlikely as Baise-Moi's R' rating may seem, the fact remains that the film should only be seen by adults, just as it would be if it had the more appropriate X' rating. The chances of anybody accidentally' walking into this film are slim, so anybody who has gone to see it and is offended probably went so that they could be. Instead, let's talk about it from an artistic merit point of view. Baise-Moi is not the first film to go into this territory in recent years there has been films such as Catherine Breillat's Romance and Cedric Khan's L'Ennui, both of which depicted sexual acts just as explicitly. Where Baise-Moi delves into different territory is by adding a dimension of Tarantino styled violence in a would-be Thelma and Louise Go Crazy In Paris' sort of theme. The two heroines of the piece are Nadine and Manu Nadine is a sex-worker and Manu is a sometimes porn actress. The two meet shortly after Manu has been violently (and graphically) raped, committed a murder and then proceeds to kidnap Nadine because she knows how to drive the getaway car. Nadine has recently just witnessed the murder of her junkie boyfriend, and being in an extremely French nihilistic sort of mood, befriends Manu as the two of them ride a highway to hell, with plenty of gratuitous sex and violence along the way. One of the supposedly redeeming features of this film is that the sex and violence is perpetrated by these two women, something we would apparently find less shocking if these acts of violence were perpetrated against them. While this may be true to some extent, the graphic portrayal of these acts would no doubt be just as shocking no matter who was doing what to whom. If the justification of this is that violence and demeaning sex acts directed at women in modern cinema are not only more common, but sanitised to make them more acceptable it's a point of view that the audience must find for themselves. The use of real sex in cinema in recent art-house films has been to create a sense of gritty realism, to strip it of it's sanitised notions of romance and pave the way for a warts and all' examination of human sexuality or at least, that's one of the more popular justifications. If this is in fact the rescuing artistic merit of films such as L'Ennui and Romance, it can't really be applied to Baise-Moi in the same way. If realism is the goal, what of the large amounts of simulated violence in the film? OK, so it's a lot easier to ask your actors to get penetrated by a penis rather than a speeding bullet, but hey, you can just throw integrity right out the window, unless of course integrity is what you were planning on using to defend your artistic creation. Furthermore, if we are to believe that the two women are rebelling against the violence perpetrated against women in general and against sex workers in particular, why is it that the two lead roles are played by bona-fide porn stars? Did they have some political agenda of their own to promote? In all likelihood, no it probably just seemed like a good, adrenaline pumping exercise in violent fantasy. They were probably right because it certainly isn't art.
Spider-Man (2002)
Best Super-hero film ever?
Created about 40 years ago by the inimitable Stan Lee, Spiderman is one of the most popular and enduring superheroes of all time. Since his humble beginnings in the final issue of Amazing Stories, Peter Parker and his costumed alter-ego, the web-slinging Peter Parker has been appearing in multiple Marvel comic books of his own, the cult classic cartoon and some highly disreputable live action TV series and even a couple of monster-flop movies. Throughout it all, Spiderman's motto has never changed; with great power comes great responsibility. Thankfully, it is a philosophy that seems to have been first and foremost in director Sam Raimi's mind he had the power to make the film, and an equally important responsibility to the millions of Spiderman fans across the world to do it right. Thankfully, despite the inevitable grumbling of the hard-core fans, he has pretty much got it as near to perfect as possible. The decision to cast Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker/Spiderman would be a stroke of genius if it weren't such a no-brainer. Although Spiderman is by no means an acting tour de force, the talented Mr Maguire has demonstrated in diverse films such as Ride With The Devil, Pleasantville, Cider House Rules and to a lesser extent Wonder Boys, his innate ability to meld a sense of wide-eyed innocence and all the charm of the ideal all-American boy-next-door with the inner strength and mettle to get a difficult job done. These two features are central to the appeal of Spiderman, who in many ways is as equally heroic in either of his personas. Raimi certainly understands this important facet of Spiderman's story and he and Maguire give us one of the best grounded and rounded super-heroes in cinematic history. Like the X-Men movie, Spiderman attempts to condense many of the important features of a storyline that stretches over decades into a movie that also follows the action/adventure formula that guarantees bums on seats. After the critical success of X-Men, it is heartening to see that Raimi also chose to treat the mythology with the respect that it deserves, changing it as little as possible while bringing it swinging into modern times. The duality that typifies Spidey also extends to his enemies, in this case, Norman Osborn/Green Goblin in a great if typical performance from Willem Dafoe. While the Goblin's mask may be scary, it is certainly less scary than Dafoe can be himself, which is the film's one major drawback. However, as industrialist millionaire Norman Osborn, father to Peter's best friend Harry (Franco), he gets plenty of opportunities to deliver the scares without his costume. The rest of the cast is a bit of a mixed bag Kirsten Dunst as Peter's life-long unrequited love MJ Watson has never looked more beautiful, but unfortunately the script really lets her down, making her look like window dressing at best and a coquettish and indecisive vamp at worst. Meanwhile, Harry radiates a deep-seated insecurity and sense of inherent danger that long time Spidey fans will appreciate. Without a doubt, the Special FX Department shares top billing in this flick, with an entirely computer generated Spiderman performing most of the incredible action sequences in the film. Many may argue that the use of CGI in Spiderman is too obvious, but given the alternative of an acrobat performing against a bluescreen, Raimi has chosen the wiser approach. Furthermore, it places the film halfway between live action and hi-tech cartoon, which allows it to draw both from the talent of the actors and the visual style of the comics/cartoons that have made Spiderman's name legend. Only a fool would suggest that this film stands alone as a perfect super-hero flick, but to date, there has been no such thing. Instead, we have a near-perfect compromise that will recruit millions of new fans to the story and give everybody some great thrills along the way. Bring on (or swing on) Spiderman 2, slated for 2004.
Original Sin (2001)
Get Your Nude Jolies Here.
Contains Spoilers For those of you who are prepared to spend the price of admission just to see Angelina Jolie's breasts and Antonio Banderas' butt, this is the film for you. If nudity offends you, or you like to `get your kicks above the waistline' (with thanks to Murray Head), give Original Sin a wide berth. No matter what the serpents may tell you, the worms in this apple are not a value-added source of protein. Directed by Michael Cristofer, who brought Angelina Jolie to the world's attention with Gia, this is a ham-fisted attempt at an erotic thriller with film noir pretensions that falls well short of the mark. Based on a novel by pulp fiction writer Cornell Woolrich (who also gave rise to Hitchcock's Rear Window), Original Sin is simply trash with a highly paid cast and the odd bit of nice cinematography. Luis Antonio Vargas (Banderas) is a Cuban in the coffee trade, who has decided that it is time to take a wife. Uninterested in affairs of the heart, he places an advertisement in an American newspaper, thus contacting a young, plain, Christian girl named Julia Russell, who agrees to travel to Cuba and become his wife. Waiting at the dock, Vargas is surprised when he is approached by a beautiful young woman who claims to be Julia (Jolie). Julia admits to having misled Luis, sending the photo of a much plainer woman, so that she could be assured that he was truly interested in marriage, and not just a (very) pretty face. Somewhat taken aback, Luis admits that he has also lied he is not a clerk for a coffee company, he actually is a part owner he wanted to be sure that her intentions were not monetary. Before the shock fully subsides, the couple rush off to be married immediately, and the businesslike Luis quickly finds himself falling headlong into love and lust with his new bride. For those of you who need to have it spelt out, this is the part of the story where they get it on' with a series of shots and close-ups that are (believe it or not) overlong and overtly revealing. If this is what you paid for, you'll certainly get your money's worth, with a series of revealing images of the beautiful pair in various states of post-coital bliss. Unfortunately, there's still about 90 minutes of the film left to go. You may want to walk out now. Of course, all is not well in this paradise, and Cristofer leaves clues and foreboding signs across the next 15 minutes like banana skins at a Clown's Convention. Luis couldn't be happier, until people begin to start asking questions and he wakes one day to find that his wife has cleared their joint accounts and done a runner. Still hopelessly in love, Luis decides to track her down with the help of a private investigator employed by the real' Julia's sister. At this point, Banderas runs through the rest of the script with a big Kick Me
Again' sign taped to his back. Angelina Jolie gives a pretty good account of herself in this villainous, femme fatale role, adding a certain amount of haughty spite and vitriol to the talents that puberty blessed her with. However, neither she nor Banderas has the charisma to pull themselves from the quagmire of this sorry, sordid tale. There is one scene, quite early on in the film, in which Luis and Julia head off to the theatre to see a touring American theatre company presenting (without much subtlety) Faust. They are accompanied by Luis' business partner and his wife, who describes the production as cheap melodrama. Julia, obviously thrilled with the production (for reasons that become apparent later) retorts that she likes cheap melodrama. While the director may have meant this as a dig at the critics, all he really did was write Original Sin's review for them. By all accounts, this film has bombed miserably in the U.S. and given the costs of period drama, it is unlikely to have recouped its expenses. Plastic surgeons, on the other hand, probably made a packet from the extensively altered Melanie Griffiths after she saw her hubby getting his on-screen Jolies. Yes, it's a cheap shot but it's a cheap film. SABIAN WILDE.