Reviews

I enjoyed Les Passagers de la Nuit. Charlotte Gainsbourg played an older woman than she usually does in this one, so that was interesting. I had to keep telling myself she's older! She's the mother! However she is quite good in the new role. Absolutely believable.

I'm not sure what the theme of the movie was, other than "Keep on chugging away at life. Through all its pitfalls, you will come out okay if you just keep going." So while darkness is present, there will be light if you keep moving. The movie is up-lifting. I do not like films or novels that wallow in darkness.

Those who who are habituated to watching French films will not be disappointed. The movie has the French film fundamental requisites: Nudity and smoking are present, especially smoking. I think the writer tries to make a point about smoking, but I'm not sure what it is. Its presence is all that is necessary or expected. Sort of like how you can't be disappointed by Charlotte Gainsbourg. Her presence is enough. I feel the same about Mathieu Amalric (Note: he's not in this movie). If he's in it the movie, it's good.

The plot here, in which Charlotte takes in a stray young girl, who happens to be addicted to heroin, who becomes involved with her son, is pretty minimal. In American movies, you'd maybe have a super-hero landing in front of the stray before she can take a dose. Here the super-hero is Charlotte, who is dealing with the somewhat mysterious loss of her husband. I could be wrong, but I don't think we find out why they broke up. What we do see is Charlotte's courage in dealing with the job market and the burden and joy of raising her son and daughter plus the stray. Just watch the movie. I don't think you'll be disappointed.

I saw the movie on TV 5 with English subtitles. If your French isn't great, this is best. If your French isn't too bad, watch with French subtitles. If your hearing and French are very good, watch on without a net.

One last thing: I became interested in the Gainsbourgs ever since Michael Moore used "Je t'aime. . . . Moi Non Plus" brilliantly in his movie Sicko. However, if you're American and have never heard of Serge Gainsbourg, I think you'll still like the film. The Gainsbourg saga is quite interesting, though. As I'm from New Orleans, I got to hear "Je t'aime" in 1969, when it first came out. In many places it was banned. So when Michael Moore used the song, it struck a chord (ha, ha) with me. A blast from the past. But none of that's necessary to enjoy this film.

I'm from New Orleans, was born in that hospital, when it was Baptist. My grandfather died there and I know a guy who worked there. The film was perfect, in terms of acting, everything. I did find one probable flaw that made me give it a 9/10. Emmett Everette had oxygen tubes to his nostrils the whole time. Those are usually hooked to an electrical device that pumps in supplemental oxygen. But there was no electricity. Could have been bottled oxygen, but the supply room was under water. And nobody keeps those tubes in tf he or she isn't getting oxygen. A small flaw, so I'd say 9.9/10. One last thing: That "Butch" character, if real, should be made to live on the LA coastline with no evacuation allowed. Then he might learn how hurricanes can mess with your mind.

Hey, it's fun. It's easy to find fault. But you really can't lose when Night of the Living Dead meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers. There's really no reason to do a serious review here. If you liked those old chestnuts you'll like this. If you like John Malkovich and Sandra Bullock (I do) you'll like this more. Forget the rest.

The actors, crew, special effects people, the writers, animal trainers, all, I think, made a good-faith effort. That being said, the movie is lacking in terms of verisimilitude. I wonder how familiar all were with skiing and cold weather. I had a similar experience. Stupidly, for the last run of the the day I went off-piste (trail). I skied in powder up to my waist, fast, dodging boulders and trees. All of a sudden I did a face-plant and was buried. My left hand broke when my pole strap slapped it back. I was lucky. The highest lift was still running, and, thank God, it was visible through the trees. So I waved my pole, and despite heavy snow, I was rescued. If not, I am certain I would have been dead by morning. I put a spoiler alert as one might infer these kids survived. But all I'm saying is, the movie is not realistic re cold. One character stupidly throws her mitten off. One of the guys has a jacket with a hood and he doesn't use it. And they're trapped on a ski lift with no help expected for five days! The girl who threw the mitten got frostbite of course, but she still gets a good bit of use out of her hand. My wife says to mention that their breath isn't freezing. There's another antagonist in the film, but, as far as I'm concerned, the cold would have been enough if they'd played it right. I have just read other reviews and was astounded at the number of positive reviews. Those writers must never gone skiing, but also are not familiar w/cold. The film is SO unrealistic. Not only does the girl throw off one of her mittens, but she sleeps with her exposed hand on the safety rail--I got the latter from other reviews, but I did mention the stupidity of her throwing her mitten away for no reason. It just bothered me that she almost never put her exposed hand in her pocket! Other reviewers have found other really stupid elements. I originally rated this a five 'cause I'm nice guy. But I've gone down to three. If I weren't nice, I'd give it a one. Any avid skier would find this movie totally unrealistic. Again, I'm AMAZED at the number of good reviews. What were they thinking? If this thing can draw positive reviews, hell, I'm going to make movies!

Maybe I'm stupid, but I had little to no idea what was going on during the first half of the movie. It sort of reminded me of the presumably spaghetti Western, My Name is Nobody. In that film I also kept telling myself, "Oh, this is where I'm supposed to laugh." There is nothing subtle or intellectual about this movie. It's just one slapstick gag after another. If I want that I'll watch The Three Stooges on TV. At least there, the context is clear, I guess this is what you get w 4-5 countries involved, each w its own tastes. Whenever anyone gets in trouble here he gets sent to the desert, apparently just a few minutes away, to be whipped into pushing a wheel that pulls water from the ground, for some guy on the other end to drink up. Ho, ho, is that funny or what? And the mistaken-identity bit. What originality! Like we've never seen that before. I didn't even begin to laugh through the whole thing. I kept thinking, there must be more. Then it ended. How a respectable actor like Yves Montand got involved in this silly, absurd slapstick is beyond me.

Because this film is intellectually and emotionally stimulating in a subtle way, I had to drive 65 miles, from Lafayette to Baton Rouge, where it was in was in one compartment of a multiplex. That the compartment was Number Nine was a nice touch. But New Orleans had it in three theaters. My review: I enjoyed it. Been a fan of Pacino since Dog Day Afternoon, Plummer since Sound of Music, Lennon since fall, 1963. And I've never seen a movie with Annette Bening that I didn't' like. The script was good; I didn't see anything not to like. So why didn't the movie come to me rather than vice versa? Apparently, the theater owners where I live won't bet on a movie without car chases, guns, shooting, war, all sorts of violence, or juvenile, senseless humor, or mainstream sports. Perhaps a little thriller/horror/sci-fi/blockbuster (Titanic, JFK) might seep through. The sad thing is they may be right. A movie devoid of the aforementioned criteria might lose money here.

Most of this movie consists of people addressing the camera, while surrounded by ugly puppets and other pieces of junk. I'm astounded by the positive reviews. I'm left with only a slightly better knowledge as to why many Germans followed Hitler. This film would have made a much better book, with footnotes, citations of sources, and suggestions for further reading. But perhaps that was impossible. As I believe George Harrison once said, "Avant-garde means haven't got a clue." What is the difference between someone talking to you while he sits next to a candelabra and your reading what he has to say in a book? The same goes for speakers with old war film clips as background. I suppose one could argue that watching this film is a more visceral experience than reading a book on the same subject. However, this argument is undercut if the visceral experience is nausea.

I couldn't watch more than about five minutes of this drivel because it starts with clichéd scatological humor. Ho, ho, how funny is that? Might as well have started with a pie in someone's face. I would not have mourned if scatological humor died with the misanthropic Jonathan Swift. Grow up people, for God's sake. Granted, Dave Barry insists that the essence of comedy lies in the word "bugger." But he's a special case: A man with a God-given sense of humor who doesn't believe in God. I wish I had dollar for every "hilarious" scene of someone leaving a bathroom with toilet paper stuck to their shoes. It just doesn't get any funnier than that does it? Well, if you know your movie history, it certainly does: think of the work of Harold Loyd, Blake Edwards, Woody Allen, Buster Keaton, and countless others.

This movie is for adults. That being said, it's about as far from pornography as one can get. There are sex scenes, but these are intertwined with the emotions of the characters, particularly Val, the protagonist. The scenes range from the subdued to the violent and one would have to be sick be aroused by them. It's too bad the film probably won't be distributed in the U.S. because of the MPAA's allergy to nudity. Anyway, the story is fairly unique, something of a modern bildungsroman in which a woman sets out to find herself. And, through a number a picaresque episodes, she either does or doesn't (note: no spoiler here). The movie is simply unique. That's why I'm giving it a fairly high rating. Just one warning: keep it away from kids and adults who feel that nudity and sex should be swept under the rug regardless of their necessity for the emotional impact of the story. One last thing: I was impressed by the acting.

Leaving Las Vegas glamorizes alcoholism. I wouldn't be surprised if some idiots tried to copy Cage's character and go for a painless, fun, and sexy suicide. Alcoholism is about nausea, diarrhea, bed-wetting, losing everything you have, including your memory and your sanity. I don't know too many sexy women who are attracted to the above. I realize Hollywood has to cut corners. I can accept that Jim Morrison didn't really emphasize the word "higher" on Ed Sullivan, but Stone needed a quick way to establish character. Okay. But this movie is just utterly absurd. That it won a bunch of awards shows that the Academy or whoever is completely out of touch with the tragic and grotesque nature of alcoholism.

I like George (may his soul play ukulele in heaven), and I like Jane Birkin (may that shadow of Serge Gainsbourg continue to dance with Beck). But to paraphrase Beck, Wonderwall's a loser, baby, why don't you kill it? And, for God's sake what did the pictures of the Beatles at the end have to do with the film? The guy that plays the professor is somewhat humorous in a Charlie Chaplin sort of way (or that guy in silent films who used to hang onto clock towers and things). All in all a tête à tête between Harrison and Birkin on their philosophies of life may have made an interesting movie. Probably much better than My Dinner with Andre. My Dinner with a Dish?

My first and only published movie review was of Louis Malle's Alamo Bay for the University of New Orleans' Driftwood. I got an early preview so I had no idea what others would write. But I knew two things: The movie was fairly entertaining, and Louis Malle had directed Atlantic City, which was incredibly great. So I wasn't about to say anything bad about Malle. I said the movie was very entertaining, but did add one caveat: In Alamo Bay the past was an allusion. You didn't see on the screen important things that were discussed by the characters. So you can imagine my reaction to Dinner w/Andre. The advantage of movies is that you can see things come to life. Films are easy on (and sometimes better than) the imagination. What if Marlon Brando had merely narrated what happened on the Bounty? Andre has more in common with a book than a movie. And considering the fantastically nutty things Andre has to say I don't think I'd enjoy the book anymore than I enjoyed the movie (i.e., not much). I almost always agree with Roger Ebert, but not this time. PS--The professional reviewers pretty much panned Alamo Bay, so at least I did one good turn for the great Louis Malle.