A Kid in King Arthur's Court. This low-quality fare from Disney features a lame script, bland direction and contemptible acting. If you take your kids to see it, they might lead a violent revolt against you using whiffle bats and plastic swords, so be careful. Even Runaway Brain, the 5-minute Mickey Mouse cartoon that precedes the movie, is second-rate all the way. With the hundreds of Arthurian, time-travel and old Disney videos that infinitely outclass this tripe, consider setting up your own round table at home instead. Christen it with a VCR and let Merlin's magical remote control be your guide.
A Walk in the Clouds. From Alfonso Arau, director of Like Water For Chocolate, comes this pleasantly magical-realist W.W.II-era romance about a GI (Keanu Reeves) who pretends to be the husband of a lovely, troubled woman (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon) to save her from the tradition-obsessed wrath of her father (Giancarlo Giannini), head of a family-run vineyard in Napa Valley. Arau's direction is smile-inducing and swift, and the actors are all charming, especially Anthony Quinn as an unflaggingly earnest, chocolate-chomping grandfather. But the movie's combination of love, family and good cheer is almost too perfect, too postcardy. Remarkably, what saves it is Reeves' laughably monotonous performance--just the weird element the picture needs to keep its innocence interesting.
Babe. Animal training and animatronics blend seamlessly in this terrific children's story about a polite piglet who breaks through the rules of barnyard conformity to do her own thing--herd sheep. Made in Australia, with perfectly-cast voices and an impressive assemblage of good-looking animals, the movie has storytelling chutzpah on its side: The scenes are playfully divided into episodic chapters, and the atmosphere feels like it was painted onto the screen directly from the most imaginative kids' books. Thankfully, dark, Orwellian moments keep the cute bits in balance--something more children's movies ought to do.
Dangerous Minds. Michelle Pfeiffer stars in this mostly effective drama about an unorthodox inner-city high school teacher who wins the attention (and affection) of a classroom full of hard-to-reach minority students. The material, though clumsily constructed, has social relevance to spare, and the filmmakers' commitment to a bare-bones plot is honorable. The uneasy mix of realism and Hollywood slickness does create some embarrassing notes, but Pfeiffer's charm overrides most of the rough spots--with her soft-toned, tough-loving demeanor she's a perfect educational love object.
Desperado. Richard Rodriquez, in his $7 million sequel to the $7 thousand career-making actioner El Mariachi, has crafted a funny, enjoyably senseless tribute to the over-the-top violence of directors like John Woo. And he's found the most attractive of leads: Antonio Banderas stars as the dark, vengeful loner with a guitar case full of guns, and Salma Hayek plays the shapely love interest who stitches up his many wounds. Offering their comic services, independent film icons Steve Buscemi, Quentin Tarantino and the shifty-eyed Cheech Marin make valiant efforts, but Rodriguez makes one unfortunate mistake: He kills them off too soon, leaving the second half of his film without much personality. As a friend said, "Good gunplay, bad screenplay."
First Knight. A round table, a love triangle, a square movie. Sean Connery plays King Arthur with his usual regal gravity, Richard Gere reinvents Sir Lancelot as a manic-depressive (but mostly manic) derring-doer, and Julia Ormond is Guinevere, the doe-eyed, perpetually confused object of their love. The film vacillates between blustery action sequences and moments of cheesy romantic tension, including a rather pornographic scene in which Gere channels rainwater into Guinevere's mouth via a big leaf.
Lord Of Illusions. A Manson-esque cult leader with supernatural powers, a world-famous magician with an ill-timed sword trick, a New York detective who is "drawn to the dark side," a love interest/potential victim who wears sheer garments with no bra, and more violent impalings than you can shake a stick at... What more could you ask for from a Clive Barker horror flick? Well, for starters, you might ask for a plot that makes sense, intelligent characters or scares that don't become increasingly dull and hokey as the film progresses. A few more impalings wouldn't hurt.
Mortal Kombat. There's nothing like 90 minutes of karate matches and techno music to make you feel stupid. This expensive and admittedly well-made advertisement for the Mortal Kombat video game doesn't have enough thrills to keep the simplistic comic-book story interesting, and you're left wondering why so many video games center around competitive brutality in the first place. The film is actually rather harmless, though, and good for a laugh or two, so if you're into fight choreography it might be worth a look. Just be warned: No one who sits through the film will be able to get the cheesy title song out of his head for at least a week.
The Net. Once again, Sandra Bullock gives a top-notch performance as the accidental victim in a fast action thriller. This time she's on her own, as the introverted, computer program analyst who stumbles into the twisted world of cyberterrorism. Sci-fi fans and computer phobics alike will appreciate the implications of an Orwellian future in which our entire identities are stored on the Internet, where the war of the Information Age is waiting to break out. If you can willingly suspend your disbelief, this one will keep you frozen over your popcorn throughout.
Something To Talk About. From the screenwriter who gave us Thelma & Louise comes this insightful yet directionless tale of a Southern wife (Julia Roberts) who has to re-think her life when she learns her husband (Dennis Quaid) has been having several affairs. Crisp direction by Lasse Hallestrom, warmly vibrant cinematography and a handful of fun performances (by Kyra Sedgwick, Robert Duvall and Gene Rowlands) keep the film enjoyable long after the story has lost sight of a point. And Roberts is surprisingly good--after years of limited performances in dumb roles, she really seems to be blossoming.
Waterworld. "Was this your big vision?" the tattooed child asks at the end, and you might be thinking the same thing after watching $200 million in sets and special effects wash away in this ill-conceived spectacle. Good enough to sit through but not nearly good enough to justify its magnitude, the film stars Kevin Costner as a seafaring Mad Max type who eventually saves a scruffy girl (Tina Majorino) and a bland love interest (Jeanne Tripplehorn) from a gang of cigar-chomping baddies led, all-too-familiarly, by Dennis Hopper. The sci-fi premise and watery atmosphere have potential, but the picture evaporates into a series of bloated, ineffective action set-pieces.
LESBIAN FILM SERIES. Anne Chamberlain's award-winning films have been screened at Gay Film Festivals around the world, from San Francisco to Hong Kong. Five of her short films will be screened on Saturday, September 9, at the Institute for Creative Studies, 530 N. Stone Ave. Familiar address, you say? That's right--the D.P.C. reopens under a new name and new ownership, with a gala grand opening celebration this weekend including live music, performance art and comedy in addition to the following screenings: Premenstrual, Ride on Rosa, Burden of Dykes, Condomnation and Thelma and Louise Don't Live Here Anymore. A discussion with the filmmaker will follow. Call 628-1650 for information.
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