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Film Clips
3000 MILES TO GRACELAND. Elvis made lots of crappy movies, but he at least had a dastardly manager on whom to blame his comically misguided career choices. Kurt Russell and Kevin Costner better find a Colonel Parker-esque agent/scapegoat for the mirthless 3000 Miles, unless they want to end up like the King, sitting around at home waiting for a career movement. The two stars play ex-cons and partners in crime who love Elvis but grow less and less keen on each other, until at last they must exchange gunfire and pithy taunts in a grimy industrial park. Edited like a commercial and plotted like one of Roger Corman's fever dreams, 3000 Miles blithely offers up all the affectations of every road movie ever made, with none of the fun. Take into account an almost creepy--for the post-'90s--lack of self-awareness, and the movie becomes the answer to the riddle it didn't know it posed; it's a throwback, an Elvis film, just as stupid and incoherent as he used to make 'em. Have some respect--it's time to let this one die. --Caruth
BEST IN SHOW. Funnier than watching Strom Thurmond deny his racist past, Best in Show is the long-awaited follow-up to the most hilarious film of the '90s, Waiting For Guffman. The Guffman cast and crew reassemble here to present a mockumentary about a dog show (Best in Show's working title was Dogumentary). Director Christopher Guest, perhaps best known for playing mentally deficient guitarist (or is that redundant?) Nigel Tufnel in Spinal Tap, puts together one of the tightest comedies ever made. Every scene has laughs, and no scene is merely a setup for a later gag. Guest also stars as Harlan Pepper, Southern dog fancier and fishing shop owner. His dead-on performance is matched by Eugene Levy as nerdy suburbanite Gerry Fleck; Catherine O'Hara (the greatest living comedienne) as his wife and erstwhile slattern Cookie Fleck; Parker Posey and Michael Hitchcock as a grating yuppie couple; Michael McKean and John Michael Higgins as a gay couple whose love for each other is matched only by their love for Shih Tzus; and scene stealer Fred Willard as the local anchorman who's been horribly misassigned as an announcer at the Mayflower Kennel Club Dog Show. And hey, sorry about that guitarist gag. --DiGiovanna
CARMAN: THE CHAMPION. All of the fundamental elements are included: the action, the romance, the moral dilemmas, and even the heart-pumping soundtrack. Yet Lee Stanley's latest film still lacks the punch needed to make this one a knockout. Orlando Leone Jr. is a former cruiserweight boxing champion who now is a preacher by day and a hotel security guard by night. However, his ultimate dream is to fulfill that of his late father, which is to create a youth center for troubled inner-city kids. The family dream might come true when the son is bribed into fighting an egotistical hothead, but life, love and laurels hang in the balance. This film got an extremely limited release and barely any publicity, which is unfortunate since it is worth seeing, especially compared to the other big-screen bombs released recently. --Hernon
CHOCOLAT. Lasse Hallström directs this simple fable of the chocolate-peddling gypsy Vianne (Juliette Binoche), who spends her life liberalizing the lives of conservative villagers in the French countryside. Daughter in tow, she sets up chocolate shops and single-handedly unlocks the hidden desires of the religious townsfolk with the magic of the cocoa seed. Once her cautious, god-fearing neighbors get a taste of her homemade chocolate confections, the people begin to come alive and abandon their assumption that Vianne is the devil incarnate. Remembering that this is told in the confines of a fairy tale, the tints of magical realism and the fight against mediocrity are charming, if not mouth-wateringly sweet. Lena Olin, Alfred Molina, Judi Dench and Johnny Depp provide caricatures of fear and love that play out as nicely as the indulgent delights cooked up in the Mayan kitchen. --Nichols
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. Variety magazine used to refer to martial arts movies as "chop socky flicks." Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon would, then, be a really big chop socky flick. It's got all the cheesy, goofball stuff you'd expect from the Taiwanese kung-fu movies of the '70s, but with an enormous budget to back it up. Chow Yun Fat stars as a master of the Wudan school of martial arts. The big bonus to being a Wudan master is that you can fly, which is the kind of thing that looks great on a big screen, especially if the characters are flying over misty Chinese landscapes while fighting with ancient, magical swords. Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon is big-time fun, but don't go expecting to see Citizen Kane. This is more like a Saturday-morning cartoon raised to the level of Wagnerian opera, with all the amusement and stupidity that are found so abundantly in both of those art forms. --DiGiovanna
DOWN TO EARTH. The old saying "third time's a charm" certainly does not hold true as this remake of Heaven Can Wait, itself a remake of Here Comes Mr. Jordan, knocks into theaters instead of on death's door. From Robert Montgomery portraying a heavyweight prizefighter in the 1941 original to Warren Beatty as a forceful football player in the 1978 remake, we now somehow find ourselves stuck with the nasal loudmouth Chris Rock playing none other than a wannabe comedian. The basics of the story remain the same in this exhausted version: Man dies before his time; man gets a second chance at life; and man comes back in the body of a miserly millionaire whose wife and lover plot to kill him. Throw in endless racial jokes, cheesy and overripe philosophical wit and a lead actor who cannot act, and you're left with Down to Earth, a movie that should be laid to rest. --Hernon
DRACULA 2000. Vampires have always been the most latently sexual of mythic and horrible monsters, so a vampire entry in the newly revived teensploitation sex 'n' horror genre was probably inevitable. Dracula 2000 is that bloodless entry, an unnecessary millennial recontextualization of--or is it a sequel to?--Bram Stoker's basic story. A sure contender for both the worst title and worst soundtrack of the year, Dracula 2000 opens with a crew of naïve young thieves stealing a sealed coffin from Carfax Antiques, a metaphor for the feckless plundering of various old vampire stories that director Patrick Lussier perpetrates through the rest of the film. The film plays up the sexual aspect of the vampires, portraying them as well-dressed young hotties more interested in having freaky sex than feeding their bloodthirst. But close-ups of claret lips and concupiscent curls can only carry a film so far, and while the visual effects and sexualized feeding scenes may titillate, the film ultimately lacks bite. The myths are true; Dracula sucks. --Caruth
ENEMY AT THE GATES. Director Jean-Jacques Annaud portrays the realities of war through bullets, bombs and blood in the muddy trenches of Stalingrad as the Russians battle Nazi Germany in 1942. In the midst of the guns and the gore is the acclaimed Russian sniper, Vassili Zaitsev, played perfectly by Jude Law, who instills hope in his country by using his cunning ways to capture his nemesis, Major Konig of the Third Reich (Ed Harris). The two run through the rubble and ruins in the dismal, cold winter for an intense game of predator versus prey, enabling this epic saga to ring true victory. --Hernon
EXIT WOUNDS. It's the same old testosterone-filled story: dirty cops, naked beauties, drug smugglers and a hotshot cop all tangled up in hi-speed chases, rapid gunfire and flagrant fights. Steven Seagal stars as a delinquent secret service agent who, after getting demoted, is sentenced to rage-aholic group therapy and traffic duty, where he soon finds himself in the middle of a covert drug heist. A car crazy drug lord (DMX) leads the muscle-bound thugs and crooked cops through inane plot twists (which somehow manage to include the always-annoying Tom Arnold as a moronic talk show host) and lead to the inevitable showdown. The weekend polls calculated this recycled dribble as being number one at the box office, but what it did not calculate were the audiences rushing towards the exit, wounds or not. --Hernon
FINDING FORRESTER. An unlikely friendship builds between a Pulitzer Prize-winning Boo Radley of the Bronx and an inner-city punk feigning stupidity in Gus Van Sant's latest drama. Shaggy-haired Sean Connery plays the reclusive William Forrester, whose monotonous routine of window washing and voyeurism is stirred up when he becomes an unsuspecting mentor to a closeted brainiac remarkably played by newcomer Robert Brown. Together the two journey past their fears, insecurities and enemies toward their dreams and true capabilities. It's an inspirational film, despite the recycled premise and two superfluous endings, one of which presents an unnecessary surprise cameo. --Hernon
GET OVER IT. More fun than a pair of high-powered binoculars and a clear line of sight to the local high school, Get Over It is one of the best teen sex comedies/parodies of teen sex comedies to come down the pipe in ages. Ben Foster, who if this movie is any indication can count on being the Patrick Dempsey of the third millennium, plays a high-school senior so stung by the shock of being dumped by his beautiful girlfriend that he doesn't realize his best friend's gorgeous younger sister (Kirsten Dunst) has the hots for him. Funny, breezily smart and more sophisticated than it has any right to be, the film also includes enough teenage cheesecake to give the mature viewer an age-of-consent dilemma equal to the one Foster faces. Grab a copy of the state's statutes on legal consent and march on down to see Get Over It. --Caruth
HANNIBAL. This is sort of like one of those classic Disney films of the '30s and '40s, where magical fairies dance about in glittering landscapes, eating the flesh of their still-living victims. You know, like Snow White and The Seven Horrible, Cannibalistic Dwarves, or Kill, Bambi, Kill! Anthony Hopkins plays Hannibal, an irascible scamp who loves classical music, fine art and evil. Gary Oldman plays his rival, the cute little horribly deformed man who wants only to gambol about and feed Hannibal to the three little pigs. Well, more like two dozen flesh-eating hogs. Julianne Moore plays Clarice Starling, who's kind of like the Good Woodsman who comes to help out when Red Riding Hood is captured by the evil wolf who wants to force her to eat her own brains. Or it could be that the Disney films they showed me in the vicious torture gardens where I was raised were slightly different than those released to the world at large. Anyway, Hannibal shares with those films a glacially slow pace that is only slightly enlivened by the adorable scenes of cute, fluffy, hugable murders and mutilations. --DiGiovanna
HOUSE OF MIRTH. Another novel by Edith Wharton is adapted to the big screen to examine vindictive games of the heart, this time by writer/director Terence Davies. Gillian Anderson stars as a naïve and susceptible single woman who is burdened by a hefty gambling debt and unjust societal pressures as she faces the moral dilemma of whether to marry for love or for money. A cold-hearted, manipulating elitist (Laura Linney), a conniving financial advisor (Dan Aykroyd), an inadequate lawyer (Eric Stoltz) and back-stabbing relatives all contribute to the physical and emotional hardships through which the sympathetic protagonist fights with courage and dignity. Though this period piece proceeds at a painstakingly slow pace, the complexity and portrayal of each character, especially Anderson's, produce a House of success. --Hernon
THE MEXICAN. Gore Verbinski, the director of Mouse Hunt, leads you on another wild goose chase, but instead of a furry rodent and an obsessed exterminator you are stuck with a cheap-looking gun and boring group therapy sessions. Brad Pitt stars as a bumbling bagman who travels through Mexico in his blue El Camino contending with conspiring henchmen, loyal townspeople and a mangy mutt in order to retrieve a legendary pistol, thus achieving redemption from the Mafia. Meanwhile, girlfriend Samantha (Julia Roberts), a selfish self-help groupie with Vegas dreams, is kidnapped by a closeted criminal (James Gandolfini) who also wants his hands on the sacred firearm, but swaps more relationship tips with his hostage than useful facts for his unlawful pursuit. This never-ending story slowly meanders from dull plot twist to tiresome therapy session in an asinine premise that incorporates half-witted themes of cars, toilets and traffic lights. The only smart thing done for this film was hiring an A-list cast, including Gene Hackman in a cameo role, but acting in this pitiful project was not a smart thing to do on their part. --Hernon
O BROTHER WHERE ART THOU? Who doesn't love musical theater? Only mean people, I'm guessing. Thus, in order to prove that you're not a mean person you should rush out and see O Brother Where Art Thou?, the first great musical of the 21st century. O Brother retells the story of Homer's Odyssey, only from the perspective of two guys who have never read the book. George Clooney stars as Ulysses Everett McGill (see, he's Ulysses), an escaped convict who travels across Depression-era Mississippi to get home to his wife Penny (get it?) who's being wooed by a suitor (see, like in the Odyssey). When the Coens aren't referencing The Odyssey they're exploring the culture of the old South or alluding to such classic films as Preston Sturges' Sullivan's Travels. Actually, they're usually doing all three at once, which makes the fact that they can do it in the midst of a musical number all the more amazing. And what's even more amazing is that most of the people who've seen O Brother don't even realize that they've seen a musical. Which is good, because, as I've found out, most people claim to hate musicals. Because most people are mean. Q.E.D. --DiGiovanna
POLLOCK. Ed Harris' ingenious portrayal as the complex and emotionally chaotic contemporary artist, Jackson Pollock, will create stiff competition for Best Actor at the Oscars. If Harris does walk away with the prestigious gold statuette, he will be the third to do so, behind Sir Laurence Olivier and Roberto Benigni, in a film that he has also directed. The multi-talented actor leads viewers through the roller coaster life of a struggling artist who fights the pressures of society's criticism, artistic ingenuity, and his own inner demons with a bottle of beer in one hand, a painter's brush in the other and a cigarette in his mouth. Marcia Gay Harden also made the Oscar list with her Best Supporting Actress nomination as the devoted wife who helps her husband with her philosophical wit and strong character through depression, temper tantrums and nervous breakdowns. The rich talent of Harden and the rest of the supporting cast, including Jeffrey Tambor and Amy Madigan, essentially compliment the palette of feelings that Harris conveys through words and an expressive countenance in his Oscar-caliber performance. --Hernon
SAVE THE LAST DANCE. This teeny-bopping MTV production transfers Dirty Dancing from a family resort to the gangsters' ghetto for some contemporary high school hip hop. Julia Stiles stars as a sheltered suburbanite who moves to the big bad city after her mother dies in a car accident, and now faces gun-toting thugs, hard-talking teens and her deadbeat dad's freezer full of TV dinners. The straight-laced prima donna puts her ballerina dreams on hold and gets an in-your-face look at the inner city's culture, dance and "slamming" lingo. This film is too formulaic, meandering slowly through the typical initiation scenes of a stranger in a strange place. However, it does offer satisfactory entertainment through its charming performances and upbeat soundtrack. --Hernon
SEE SPOT RUN. A sophomore director, John Whitesell, and a half dozen screenwriters turn in a wasted team effort with this film's tediously drawn-out establishing sequence followed by a cliché-riddled series of dimwitted misadventures involving asinine characters, only to conclude with an extremely predictable ending. In other words: See spot run. See audience leave. Adam Sandler wannabe David Arquette stars as a militaristic mail carrier gone postal down canine alley while armed with a squirt gun and a slingshot full of meatballs. The dogophobic loser is obsessed with an anal-retentive aerobics queen, and offers to play daddy to her son. Meanwhile, a prestigious police pooch with an honorable track record in the narcotics division and an IQ greater than the cast and crew combined evades a drug-dealing mob boss and his henchman. And wouldn't you know that these two typical plotlines collide for a doggone disaster involving a helium-filled cellophane suit, an old school dance-off, and a musclebound FBI agent with detachment issues, all of which need to be thrown a bone. --Hernon
TRAFFIC. Today's war on drugs is taken to the front lines with a Magnolia storytelling style and a Three Kings look. From the straight-shooting American police officer (Don Cheadle) to the no-holds-barred drug-busting Mexican cop (Benicio del Toro), and from the chic country-club wife of a drug-smuggling thug to the law-enforcing anti-drug czar (Michael Douglas) and his crack-smoking daughter, writer Stephen Gaghan candidly presents all sides to this never-ending battle. --Hernon
VERTICAL LIMIT. Once, I dreamed I saw a film about mountain climbing in which no great storm appeared, no strong-headed man forced the climbers to continue through the storm, and no brave but irreverent group of wacky misfits and concerned heroes went to rescue the storm-trapped climbers. In this film, no one uttered ridiculous dialogue like "Up there, you're not dying, you're already dead." No one revealed his dark nature while trapped in the snowstorm. No one faced a test of courage that redeemed him for an error in his past. In short, this film of which I dreamed was not a montage of standard scenes and stock characters. This film was original, surprising, oddly real in its emotional content, oddly compelling in its naturalness. Of course, this film was only a dream. --DiGiovanna
THE WEDDING PLANNER. Even with the four collaborating screenwriters and Jennifer Lopez's luscious looks, there still is no hope in saving this stale romantic comedy that recycles every single cinematic cliché. Singer/actress Lopez stars as Mary, an anal-retentive wedding planner with Secret Service-like tendencies whose social life consists of being a Bay Area Scrabble Club member and alphabetizing her credit cards. Yet the life and love of the loner takes a predictable turn when macho man Matthew McConaughey literally sweeps her off her feet in a heroic Dumpster dodge. To no surprise the Texas wonder boy is already engaged and, in fact, the next client who the wedding wizard must dazzle and delight with her Martha Stewart-like fantasies. This unfortunately kicks off the trail of triteness that you could already see in the preview. Save your money and skip this one. --Hernon
UNBREAKABLE. Director M. Night Shyamalan takes the basic elements of his Sixth Sense and gives them a little more life. Again, Bruce Willis stars as a man experiencing distance from his wife. Again, his life is changed by a near-death experience. Again, he learns to reconnect by forming a bond with a young boy. Again, there's a surprise ending. This time, however, instead of the supernatural the focus is on superpowers. Samuel L. Jackson plays a comic-book fan who is convinced that Willis has superhuman abilities, and must use them to fight crime. Willis, not having read the complete run of Green Lantern comics, is a bit skeptical, but events start to convince him that Jackson may be right. What works here is the relationship between Willis's character and his son, who really wants to believe in the superpower thing. Shyamalan hasn't yet outgrown his reliance on pointlessly arty camera techniques, and the film occasionally moves from the genuinely affecting to the mildly sappy, but on the whole it works better, and is deeper and less simple, than Sixth Sense. Of course, ghosts are acceptable adult entertainment, and superheroes are not, so I imagine that Unbreakable won't garner quite the kudos and cash of its predecessor, but, even though it's not perfect, it does represent an improvement in Shyamalan's work, and has me looking forward to its two proposed sequels. --DiGiovanna
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