TONY PORCO’S MOVIE REVIEW NEWSLETTER (FALL 2000)

Hey, folks--welcome to the fall issue! This one’s another all-written-by-me issue, although the incredibly positive response I got from my friend Dave Zuckman’s excoriation of The Postman kind of makes me want more where that came from (no, I’m not very subtle). Also, I am sitting on a Dave Lichtenstein review of last year’s Keeping the Faith, but I hope to include it in the next issue, which should be out around the time the latter movie comes out on video. Speaking of Dave L., this issue actually includes my own review of a movie he reviewed in a previous issue (The Blair Witch Project). If you want to compare the two reviews, you can check out Dave L’s take in the August 1999 issue (available at

http://www.geocities.com/museumcataloging/movies899.htm). As always, your comments, suggestions, lavish praise, and the like are welcome...

REMEMBER THE TITANS: As longtime readers know, I try to avoid reacting to other critics' comments in this newsletter. Sometimes, however, this is a difficult rule to follow. Many of said critics (who will remain nameless, except for Stephen Hunter of the Washington Post) have been trashing Remember the Titans these past few weeks, taking it to task for having (gasp!) an idealistic vision about the ability of different races to function together in this country, and (shudder!) actual faith in people's potential to All Just Get Along! I can't quite get on this bandwagon, because I would take the optimism of this movie over the tired cynicism so common in too many quarters of our culture any day. True, the critics also point out that this is not a very subtle movie, which is a fairer objection. On the other hand, it has to be said that Hollywood has been unsubtle many times in the past, and usually for far less worthy causes. When movies are genuinely entertaining and inspiring–and this movie is both–I am more than willing to overlook obviousness and other more or less minor faults. After all, I am too busy enjoying myself!

In case you're wondering who the Titans are, they were the football team at T. C. Williams High School in Alexandria, Virginia in 1971. Just as their schools were integrating, they were themselves charged with integrating what had been two different championship teams, and ended up acting as a sort of advance guard for the rest of the student body. Denzel Washington is more than believable as their Vince Lombardi-like coach. That said, Bill Paxton, playing his assistant (one of the men passed over for the head coach job) has a more challenging and nuanced role, and handles it with careful control, one of the movie’s few subtleties. The most charming performers are the various ballplayers--my favorite was Ethan Suplee, the fat comic relief from Mallrats and Chasing Amy, finally cast in a more intelligent role. The only major complaint is the overbearing music score, which swells when it is supposed to swell and broadcasts every emotion we are supposed to feel. Why does Hollywood do this, particularly when they have a story that is moving enough without this kind of excess? That aside, see this, and preferably in the theater--its impact (excuse the pun) will be significantly softened on television! RATING: 8.

NEW YORK STORIES: This is an original idea (apparently the brainchild of Jack Rollins and Charles Joffe, the longtime managers/agents/friends of Woody Allen) and it is also a very good one: Get three directors known for their attachment to the Big Apple and ask them each to make a half-hour short set there. The result is a sort of mini-film-festival, with three segments sharing only the most general topic (the lives of affluent people in New York City) and therefore showing a wonderful diversity of characters, story, and style. (A fourth segment, made by Spike Lee, would have made it just about perfect.) Since the segments are so distinct, it makes sense to write three different reviews:

Life Lessons: A cynical, world-famous modern artist in the mold of Jackson Pollock or Robert Rauschenberg (Nick Nolte) and his assistant/ex-lover/muse/lust object/nemesis/enabler (Rosanna Arquette) work on ending their relationship in Martin Scorsese’s contribution to the project. Nolte and Arquette struggle mightily to get past the artist cliches that the script hands them, and almost succeed, but not quite. Still, the sequences in which Nolte’s character struggles to put the finishing touches on a huge canvas are absolutely stunning, and easily make the segment worth watching all by themselves. In these scenes, Scorsese plays to one of his strengths, the use of music in a soundtrack as both ambiance and character revelation (a talent that was seen as early as Mean Streets, which this film resembles somewhat). Furthermore, the script, despite its hackneyed moments, does have some worthwhile observations about fame and its paradoxes. RATING: 7

Life Without Zoe: In Francis Ford Coppola’s segment, we meet a young, spoiled, rich kid named Zoe (Heather McComb), who spends her time having various pseudo-adventures in a posh Manhattan hotel while her famous and divorced parents (Talia “yo, Adrian” Shire and the well-known Italian actor Giancarlo Gianinni) trot about the globe. The visuals (photographed by none other than Vittorio Storaro!) lavished upon this slight story are fascinating and intricate, particularly an eccentric party sequence. The problem is the character around whom all of this is centered; she is supposed to be lovably precocious, but she ends up so precocious that you want to spank the little sucker. Truly awful child acting makes matters worse; Zoe befriends a lonely child from Arab nobility, whose musings on his little-rich-kid life (and hideous fake accent) make you want to throw him into the East River. At least one reviewer suggested fast-forwarding through this segment; I can’t quite second the motion, but I can’t give this more than a tepid recommendation, either. One pleasant surprise is Don Novello playing someone other than his hilarious signature character, Father Guido Sarducci. Another surprising guest (hint: the David Letterman show) makes an unexpected cameo that thankfully diverts us from the rich-brat story. RATING: 5.

Oedipus Wrecks: The best segment of all is the one purely given to comedy, in which Woody Allen (who else?) fights a Don Quixote battle against his greatest nemesis, the ultimate stereo/archetype of the Jewish Mother. This segment had us rolling on the floor, and was a welcome relief from the earnestness of the first two (although this difference, as I mentioned before, is what makes the feature work as a whole). It is also a welcome relief from the seriousness of Allen’s recent work, recalling his early farces like Bananas and Sleeper. Mia Farrow is rather listless as Allen’s fiancee, but Julie Kavner, playing a medium that Woody consults, is an almost-perfect choice. Speaking of good choices, Mae Questel, playing Allen’s mother, isn’t cast well in her role--she is her role. RATING: 9.

THE REMAINS OF THE DAY: The first Merchant/Ivory movie I’ve ever seen (that is, English directors Ismail Merchant and James Ivory, with their frequent collaborator, writer Ruth Prawer Jhabvala) is a character study of one Mr. Stevens, a career butler (played unerringly, as always, by Anthony Hopkins) whose job fills every corner of his life and gives him his identity. Stevens’ devotion to his profession and sense of propriety are strong even by English standards. As a result, he sometimes seems (or becomes?) cruel and callous. It becomes increasingly clear that this earnestness is an individual characteristic, not merely a cultural one, which makes his character all the more fascinating. As if to prove this point, the story gives him a foil (Emma Thompson), also an extraordinary housekeeper, but with a better sense of humanity; the rest of the movie wisely chooses to follow their relationship in several moving scenes. Meanwhile, it’s the 1930's, and their blueblood Germanophile boss becomes a cheerleader for the Nazis then taking power, forcing Stevens to answer more challenging questions. It might be difficult for many Americans to have a strong interest in Stevens, but if it can be done, the movie raises very insightful questions about what it means to work for another person, and how professional relationships and personal ones inevitably intersect. This is very worth renting. (As a side note, I should mention that Christopher Reeve is excellent as an American congressman who challenges the Nazi apologist at a formal dinner; this was probably his last role before his harrowing riding accident. Also, Ben Chaplin from The Truth About Cats and Dogs plays a small but important role as a servant.) RATING: 8.

BOYS DON’T CRY: In 1993, Teena Brandon, a young Nebraska woman dealing with what she described as a “sexual identity crisis,” began living as a man and calling herself Brandon Teena. For this affront, two despicable ex-cons brutally murdered her. This true story was made into a powerful, tragic film by Kimberly Peirce that attacks the hatred of gays and lesbians that is all too common in this country and this world. Hilary Swank is perfectly cast as young Teena; her characterization is thoroughly believable, and sympathetic without a lot of idealization or bathos. Chloe Sevigny (who first appeared in Kids back in the early 90's) does almost as good a job as her main love interest, a bored teenage girl. The supporting players are all (too) believable as well, and the only major objection is a technical one--Peirce and her cinematographer use shots of fast-motion clouds over the flat Nebraska landscape one too many times. The story is so strong that it seems almost unfair to point this out. This is a movie that will not permit you to forget it, or to forget an unfortunate person that hate destroyed. RATING: 8.

GIRL, INTERRUPTED: Like Dead Poets’ Society, Girl, Interrupted explores young people in an earlier era, grappling with issues of peer relationships and various kinds of authority. Also like the earlier film, Girl... is generally well-filmed and well-acted by both smaller ensemble players and the leads. The "girl" of the title is young Susannah Kaysen (Winona Ryder, who also co-produced), a depressed and withdrawn child of affluence. After a suicide attempt, she is "voluntarily" committed by her parents and unscrupulous psychiatrist, more out of embarrassment than caring. At the state mental health facility for young women, she is forced to choose between acquiescence and treatment--represented by the hospital's much-better psychiatrist (Vanessa Redgrave)-–and rebellion, personified by a domineering and magnetic psychopath (Angelina Jolie). Ryder has developed considerably as an actress since her famous role in Heathers (a part and a plot somewhat similar to the one in this movie) and she thoroughly explores and personalizes a character who is not always easy to deal with. She is helped by a script that packs a punch by not idealizing mental illness or those who suffer from it, perhaps reflecting the personal experiences related by the real Susannah Kaysen in her book (on which this film is based). Jolie is amazingly well cast, an excellent foil to Ryder, even if she occasionally overacts when she is handed contrived opportunities to do so (virtually the only fault of the film). See this. RATING: 8.

THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT: When I was growing up in Phoenix, my family spent a lot of time camping in rural Arizona and Utah. I remember these trips well, and they will always be among my favorite memories from childhood. Nevertheless, there was one thing I always hated about those trips–the dark, dark nights in the middle of nowhere, with no lights except the stars, and even those sometimes hard to see from deep in a thick forest. I can still remember how scared I used to be, how I loved the bucolic outdoor days but dreaded the nights. What does any of this have to do with The Blair Witch Project? Plenty, because it is a film that recreates this kind of irrational, primal terror, along with the odd and paradoxical excitement that comes with it. I don't normally like to be scared, in movies or in real life. This movie compelled me, and even moved me in a strange way, with its almost palpable recreation of those scary, black woods, and the old legends that grow in them as readily as the tall pines.

By now, most of you know the story–three young film students, full of urban-artist cockiness, set off for a small town north of Frederick, Maryland to make a documentary on the local legend of the Blair Witch, a haunting, possibly deadly presence in the woods around the town. Instead of the omniscient observing camera that most movies have, everything that is seen and experienced comes through their hand-held devices. (Much has been made of the film's mock-documentary

feel, and how irritating it is to watch these cameras shaking and getting jostled. Personally, I got used to this about fifteen minutes into the film, and didn't think of it much after that). There are plenty of implausibilities; for one thing, I've been to the town where the film is set, and there aren't quite enough woods for what transpires there. That said, I gave the credibility stretches little thought, because I was too glued to the screen to even consider them. That, of course, is one of my major criteria for judging the worth of any movie. RATING: 9.

Have a good one.....

TONY