# 313 - NON HO SONNO (2001)

NON HO SONNO (2001 - THRILLER / MYSTERY) *** out of *****

(If someone kept singing that fucking nursery rhyme over and over again, I wouldn't be able to sleep a goddamned wink, either…)



CAST: Max Von Sydow, Stefano Dionisi, Chiara Casselli, Gabrielle Lavia, Rossella Falk, Roberto Zibetti, Paolo Maria Scalondro.

DIRECTOR: Dario Argento

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and some unfortunately literal translations of fucked-up nursery rhymes straight ahead…





NOTE: Because my borrowed DVD of DIVORZIO ALLA ITALIANA is skipping relentlessly, I am forced to do a title switch-out. Yup, we’re reviewing another Dario Argento film as a substitute, the ambitious if ultimately flawed NON HO SONNO. Don’t worry - it’s going to be okay.


Ah, yes. Another day in the Argento universe, another mad killer on the loose. The anonymous, black-gloved psycho with a byzantine agenda is a staple of the typical Dario Argento movie, as are bad dubbing and elaborate, colorful suspense (and murder) setpieces that make it all look like performance art of the most fucked-up order. Those Italians sure know how to play it to the hilt, don’t they.

Dario Argento’s latest is titled NON HO SONNO, which in English means “I Can’t Sleep” or more succinctly, “Sleepless”, which is this film’s American release title. Both translations make sense, but just like with our recent review of LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE, it all just sounds better in Italian. Unlike the lovely, lyrical love story LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE, however, NON HO SONNO is full of sharp knives, screaming people, and cops who couldn’t find their asses if their hands were glued on them.

I mentioned that all of Dario Argento’s movies involve some mysterious killer with an agenda. NO HO SONNO is no different. The baddie here is known as The Dwarf Killer. No, he doesn’t kill dwarfs. He is a dwarf. When you finally stop laughing, may I please have your attention back? Thank you. Anyhow, our “killer dwarf” is one Vincezo DiFabrizis (Luca Fagioli), a children’s book writer who in 1983 apparently went Full-Flight Cuckoo one day and killed a bunch of people - one of them the mother of a boy named Giacomo Caldo. Giacomo witnessed the killing of his mother and was subsequently traumatized. The detective on the case, Inspector Ulysses Moretti (Max Von Sydow), promised Giacomo he’d find the man who killed his mother - even if it takes Moretti the rest of his life.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take that long. Vincenzo, apparently realizing he’s about to get caught because - let’s face it - a killer dwarf is just too ridiculous to go unnoticed for too long, decides to make Moretti and the rest of the Turin Questura’s jobs a lot easier by just killing himself already. Moretti, in particular, must’ve been relieved that he doesn’t have to keep his promise to Giacomo now.

Or does he? We flash forward 18 years to 2001, and Turin is suddenly besieged by a new wave of murders, starting with a hooker on a late train with no one else on it but the conductor. Don‘t ask. Anyhow, each crime bears the stamp of the Vincenzo’s original killings. But with Vincenzo long dead, how is that possible? Do we have a copycat on our hands?

Inspector Manni (Paolo Maria Scalandro) must think so, because he digs out the Killer Dwarf files and seeks out the now-retired Moretti to consult on it. Turns out that Moretti no spends his time pruning his cherry trees and arguing with his sarcastic parrot Marcello. Yes, really. So, as you can imagine, the prospect of coming out of retirement to deal with a case that won’t die is kind of a welcome one.

Except Moretti seems to have the early on-sets of Alzheimer’s, because he can’t remember any significant details from that case 18 years ago. Fortunately, a visit from the now grown-up Giacomo Caldo (Stefano Dionisi) jogs his memory a little, starting with the promise he gave Giacomo a long time ago. Oh, and I should mention that Giacomo’s last name is entirely appropriate. You see, in English, “Caldo” means “Hot” - and let’s just say our Giacomo is fairly nuclear, folks. Or at least the actor who plays him - Stefano Dionisi - certainly is.

Anyhow, the retired cop who can’t remember jack-shit and the son of one of the murder victims team up to solve this new wave of murders, all orchestrated according to an unpublished book of Vincenzo’s containing a really stupid nursery rhyme. Someone should tell this killer to get with the times and use a rap song as his inspiration. Seriously.

So… who is behind this new rash of killings? Are they related to the spree from 1983? Did Vincenzo have an accomplice back then? Or was he - oh, shit - innocent? Is the killer from 1983 and the one from 2001 one and the same? If so, who is it? One of the Turin cops? One of Giacomo’s friends? Someone else? Another dwarf? Or someone… taller. Ahem?

Whatever. Just see this movie because Stefano Dionisi, Chiara Casselli, and Roberto Zibetti are siiiiiiiiizzzzzzzlllllliiiiiiiiinnnnnng…..


BUT, SERIOUSLY: In our recent review for another Dario Argento flick, OPERA (review # 309), we talked about how all Argento films have common weaknesses: (1) bad acting, (2) bad dubbing (3) awkward dialogue), (4) nonsensical plots, and (5) thin characterizations. These elements would be enough to condemn any film to a mediocre or worse rating. But we also discussed how Argento’s strong, vibrant style often makes up for these shortcomings to elevate the film or at least redeem it. The best of Argento’s canon include SUSPIRIA, DEEP RED, PHENOMENA, TENEBRA, and THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE - and they all juggle the plusses and minuses I discussed before, but end up becoming strong films because of the sheer power of Argento’s skill.

Less strong but still effective Argento fare like OPERA, THE CARD PLAYER, and MOTHER OF TEARS usually have less of the cohesiveness that the above titles share, but are not short on the memorable setpieces that the Italian Hitchcock is known for. SLEEPLESS has one of Argento’s tighter plots, but suffers from an awkard execution of it, very much the same way OPERA’s promising “operatta pursued by a killer” premise was fumbled by a haphazard treatment.

Fortunately, the saving grace of OPERA is the same with SLEEPLESS: great setpieces. Just a few to look out for: (1) the opening double-murder on the late train which echoes Argento’s opening for SUSPIRIA, his biggest success to date; (2) the attack on Mel the dancer in the night club’s basement; (3) Dora’s encounter with the killer outside her apartment; (4) the sequence backstage at the ballet recital where the actress playing the Swan gets killed; and (5) the climax where “whodunit” is finally revealed. On this note, I should point out that Argento plays very fair with the killer’s identity. Those of you paying attention will see a vital clue well before the ending - and correctly guess who it is. This is welcome change from a lot of thrillers and mysteries that go for ridiculous last-minute twists with killers out of left field.

The cast is generally strong. If you watch the Italian DVD release of NON HO SONNO, and not the American DVD release of SLEEPLESS - which is also cut - you are much better off. SLEEPLESS dubs all of the actors’ voices in English, and most of the time they sound awkward. The first time I watched NON HO SONNO was in its SLEEPLESS version, and I was not impressed. But when I gave it another chance and watched the original Italian NON HO SONNO release, it was much better. Having the cast speak in their native Italian makes the film a lot stronger. Bottom line: see NON HO SONNO, and not SLEEPLESS.

Max Von Sydow as Moretti is easily Argento’s best lead actor and character to date. Von Sydow actually creates an interesting character in Ulysses Moretti, whose best quality is his kindness and humanity. The relationship he develops with Giacomo is an interesting one that has very strong “paternal” vibes - quite understandable since Giacomo’s parents have been taken away from him by the events of the film. Speaking of Giacomo, Stefano Dionisi gives a much better performance in the NON HO SONNO version because he delivers his lines in Italian. In the SLEEPLESS version, his dubbing is distractingly bad.

Chiara Casselli does the best with her supporting role of Gloria, Giacomo’s childhood friend who becomes his lover. Casselli also turns in a better performance in the Italian DVD. In the American dubbed version, her character comes across as too whiny, unpredictable, and erratic. The NON HO SONNO version corrects this with its use of Italian dialogue that sounds much better.

As for the rest of the cast, they are uniformly colorful and strong - par for the course for an Argento movie, where the supporting cast has always been an integral part of the equation.

As with OPERA, SLEEPLESS could’ve used a couple more rewrites to tighten the plot and polish some of the sequences. Fortunately, it is kept above the average mark by the trademark Argento style and drive, as well as the timeless Italian aesthetic that turns almost anything into a thing of beauty to look at - even a CSI scene involving a dozen cops…

# 312 - GOMORRAH (2008)

GOMORRAH (2008 - CRIME / DRAMA)**** out of *****

(Somehow I get the feeling this movie‘s not going to be sanctioned by the Ufficio Del Tourism Del Napoli...)



CAST: Toni Servillo, Salvatore Cantalupo, Gigio Morra, Salvatore Abruzzese, Marco Macor, Ciro Petrone, Carmine Paternoster, Gianfelice Imparato, Maria Nazionale.

DIRECTOR: Matteo Garrone

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and one pretty unpleasant take on Bella Napoli - straight ahead…





You have to admit one thing: Roberto Saviano has a huge set of brass balls on him. Why? Well, I’m glad you asked: in 2006, Saviano - an Italian writer/journalist - wrote an expose called “Gomorrah” which blew the lid off the Camorra crime network based in Naples and how it has infiltrated nearly every level of society in that city - if not the regional area of Campagnia. It was pretty much a big “Fuck You” letter to the Camorra. Which, I don’t have to tell you, is kind of like walking up to a really hungry and grumpy lion with very sharp teeth - and kicking it right in the balls.

Sure enough, Saviano was assigned a personal protective team by the Italian government because of the ensuing death threats from the Camorra. Eventually, he had to leave Italy for his own safety. Don’t feel too sorry for him, though, because his book turned the spotlight on the Mafia problem in Southern Italy, and he was branded a national hero because of it. Too bad he has to think twice about every coming back to Bella Italia. What good is it to be a national hero if you can’t ever set foot again in your home land without worrying about someone putting a bullet in the back of your head?

Whatever. “Gomorrah” was an international bestseller that eventually got the attention of American-Italian uber-auteur Francis Ford Coppola, and before you could say “Movie Rights!” Saviano’s book was on its way to the silver screen. I think it’s safe to say that between the book and the movie, Saviano may as well forget about eating pizza in Naples ever again. Or even in Vicenza, Abruzzo, Eraclea, Piedmonte, Trieste, or any other Italian town - big or small. Because if GOMORRAH is to be believed, the Mafia has tentacles everywhere in Italy.

Anyhow, GOMORRAH weaves five train wreck stories about individuals who foolishly either fuck with or run with the Camorra. You just know none of these tales will end with a gorgeous sunset and sex on the beach - whether in drink form or for real. These stories involve the following peeps: (1) Toto (Salvatore Abruzzesse), a young grocery delivery boy who spots some drug dealers chucking a gun and some doobage while hightailing it from the Carabinieri (Italian military police), and then decides to deliver the gun and drugs back to the baddies (bad fucking idea); (2) Marco (Marco Macor) and Ciro (Ciro Petrone), two dumbasses who obviously have been watching too many Hollywood Mafia movies - SCARFACE, in particular - and decide to try to infiltrate the Camorra by stealing weapons and using them as leverage to get into the ranks, which is pretty much a worse idea than Toto’s; (3) Roberto (Carmine Paternoster), some sort of eager-beaver white collar yuppie who gets pulled into a Camorra-involved plan to illegally dispose of toxic waste in an abandoned quarry; (4) Pasquale (Salvatore Cantalupe), a dressmaker whose business is run by the Camorra, and who decides to help train Chinese tailors on the side, even though the Chinese are in direct competition with the Camorra - yet another bad fucking idea; and (5) Don Ciro (Gianfelice Imparate), a courier for the Camorra who finds himself coerced by a duo of vengeful rogue assholes into leading them right to his bosses so they can bust a cap in their asses - probably the worst idea of all.

Like I said before, you don’t have to be psychic to predict that this movie ain’t going to end with a musical number featuring swallows and dancing rabbits. Unless, of course, Marco and Ciro show and blast them all to kingdom come. So… who will survive the Dance with the Camorra? Is that even possible? Can you really make a deal with the devil - and walk away unscathed?

Watch this movie and see. Just don’t blame me if it makes you look at Bella Napoli in a very different light afterwards….


BUT, SERIOUSLY: I lived in Italy for a total of 3.5 years, three of which were spent in Naples. I remember when I first got word of my posting to Naples - I was ecstatic. A couple of friends who’d lived in Italy before me were of a different reaction, however. They warned my that Naples was the “Black Sheep of Italian Cities” and that it was riddled with crime, corruption, and was controlled by the Mafia. They also urged me to ensure I had an iron-clad property insurance policy because I would most certainly be burglarized while I was there.

Well, I was indeed burglarized once, but other than that, my three years in Naples was a dream come true. Think about it: you live in a townhouse on the side of a mountain, and from your balcony you have a view of the following: (1) Mt. Vesuvius, (2) the Bay of Naples, and (3) the lovely island of Capri. It was a wonderful experience, to say the least, and I can't wait to head back later this year on holiday. Suffice it to say, not once did I have a run-in with any Camorras or Mafiosos. The Neapolitans, while often wily and mischievous, were also very earthy, real, and approachable. There are those that say that Neapolitans are different from other Italians. If that is true, I never saw the difference. They were all great.

Which brings us to the film GOMORRAH. I haven’t read Roberto Saviano’s book, but if it’s at all like the film, then it must be a pretty intense read, and I can see why it would attract international attention - as well as the ire of the Camorra. I’m not sure how much involvement producer Francis Ford Coppola had with the making of this movie, but it bears diametrically opposite traits to his GODFATHER films, which were also romantic and glossy in addition to being violent and disturbing. GOMORRAH jettisons the romance and gloss - and focuses on the gritty daily life of those who make the mistake of running with the Camorra.

Credit inevitably must go to director Matteo Garrone for turning GOMORRAH into something approaching a documentary. The proceedings have a clammy, “you-are-right-there” quality to them that is almost unbearable. Garone also imbues each scene with a sense of mounting dread and doom that lends the film an intensely claustrophobic feel that is very far removed from your typical film about Italy, which usually celebrates the country’s lyrical romanticism and aesthetic appeal. GOMORRAH exposes a side to Naples and Italy that the outside world rarely sees. I lived there for three-and-a-half years, and I never saw it - that’s how well-hidden it is…

In the end, GOMORRAH is a disturbing film that you should watch - if only to realize just how true it is that paradoxes of beauty vs. violence and good vs. evil exists all around us. All the time.

UPCOMING REVIEWS FOR THE WEEK OF 4/25/11 - 4/29/11

Hi, folks... Sorry for the delay in getting this week's schedule of movies up. In case y'all haven't guessed from the slide show posted before, we're tackling... action movies.

Once the last of the Cinema Italiano Flicks post tomorrow, we'll jump right into the Action Flicks line-up. Please find the list below and please note there have been some title changes:

# 316 - SOURCE CODE: 2011 (AKA: Jake Gylenhaal Relives The Same 8 Minutes Over And Over Again - Kind Of Like A Really Bad Date)

# 317 - THE BOURNE SUPREMACY: 2004 (AKA: Jason Bourne Meets Pamela Landy - There Goes The Neighborhood)

# 318 - MINORITY REPORT: 2002 (AKA: Tom Cruise Is A Cop Who Can Predict The Future - Look Out)

# 319 - THE PEACEMAKER: 1997 (AKA: Nicole Kidman Plays A Much More Believable Nuclear Physicist Than Denise Richards)

# 320 - DIE ANOTHER DAY: 2002 (AKA: James Bond Vs. A Space Laser Beam And A White Dude Who Used To Be Asian)

# 321 - KILL BILL VOL 1: 2003 (AKA: Uma Thurman Can Kick My Ass Any Day)

# 322 - MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 3: 2006 (AKA: Maggie Q As A Spy? Sign Me Up)













Please expect the Action Flicks to post on Sunday, after the Cinema Italian Flicks post, and after the Sounders - hopefully - trounce Toronto FC...

# 311 - LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE (2003)

LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE (2003 - ROMANCE / DRAMA) **** out of *****

(Italy, I miss you more than I could ever say…)



CAST: Giovanna Mezzogiorno, Massimo Girroti, Raoul Bova, Filippo Negro, Serra Yilmaz, Maria Grazia Bon.

DIRECTOR: Ferzan Ozpetek

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and one huge love letter to Bella Italia and its gorgeous denizens - straight ahead…






LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE is one of my favorite films of all-time. Translated into English, the title means “The Window In Front” or “The Opposite Window“. In the United States, LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE was released under the alternate title of FACING WINDOWS, which is appropriate, but just not as lovely-sounding as the original Italian title. Just saying “La Finestra Di Fronte” takes you away to another place… the lovely, lovely land of Italy. I should also point out that LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE was also directed by Ferzan Ozpetek, who helmed one of my other all-time favorite films: the melancholy but ultimately hopeful Turkish/Italian gay romance STEAM: THE TURKISH BATH, which makes BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN look pallid by comparison.

Like STEAM, another male/male romance is at the heart of LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE. On the surface, though, it’s about the love triangle between three very beautiful citizens of Rome, Italy: (1) Giovanna (Giovanna Mezzogiorno), unhappy housewife who longs to quite her chicken factory job and open her own pastry shop; (2) Filippo (Filippo Negro), Giovanna’s down-on-his-luck blue-collar husband who also happens to have the biggest heart; and (3) Lorenzo (Raoul Bova), white-collar banker who lives in the building across from Giovanna and Filippo - and whom Giovanna has been watching from their kitchen window.

One day, while arguing about something inconsequential, Giovanna and Filippo run into a dazed old man (Massimo Girroti) who can‘t remember anything - let alone his own name. This is where we learn of Filippo’s big heart: he takes pity on the old man and persuades Giovanna to take him home with them. Filippo tells his reluctant wife that it’ll just be until they can turn the old man to the police who will surely help him. Of course, things don’t pan out that way, and Filippo and Giovanna find themselves allowing the old man to stay a few nights.

Meanwhile, while all of this has been going on, we learn that Giovanna has been noticing the handsome Lorenzo who lives in a flat across the way. Her kitchen window has a direct view of his bedroom window, and she’s been catching tantalizingly glimpses of him each night. Given that Filippo and Giovanna’s marriage is on shaky ground, Lorenzo’s beautiful presence across the way is somewhat of a temptation.

As Giovanna’s interest in Lorenzo grows, so does her fascination with the mysterious old man she and Filippo have “adopted”. She learns that his name might be “Simone” and that he is a concentration camp survivor. He also seems to be harboring some secret pain about a past love that ended unhappily - and is a talented baker himself. Soon, in a surprising turn of events, Giovanna and Lorenzo find themselves teaming up to solve the mystery of Simone’s identity - as well as his mystery lover.

Who is Simone, really? Who did he love - and lose? Is it the equally mysterious Davide Veroli? What happens when Giovanna pays Davide a visit? What secrets will she uncover? And while she’s trying to unravel the mystery of Simone’s lost love, how will her own love life fare? Will she succumb to her feelings for Lorenzo? Or will her sense of duty and responsibility keep her in Filippo’s arms and with her family? Will she take Simone’s advice and start her own pastry shop? How will Simone’s life story dovetail with hers?

The most beautiful thing about LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE is finding out the answers to the above…


BUT, EVEN MORE SERIOUSLY: I first saw LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE when I was living in Italy in 2003. I’d heard the wonderful title theme music by Andrea Guerra (the music that plays over both the Italian and U.S. trailers above) over and over again on the radio, and was surprised to find out it was the score for a film. I ended up seeing LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE with some Italian friends based solely on its vibrant and soulful music, and was able to follow along with the plot even without English subtitles (my Italian was much stronger back then), and made a very pleasant discovery: LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE was just as wonderful as its music.

Kind of an Italian mix of THE ENGLISH PATIENT and THE BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY, LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE poses some very provocative questions: (1) Would you throw away a solid, if imperfect relationship, for one that is passionate but possibly short-lived? (2) Does love (and the people we love) really live on in our memories, or is it (and they) swept away and forgotten with the passing of time? (3) is your life worth living if you’re only marking time and going through the motions? (4) do you have the strength to walk away from someone you deeply love if it will mean their safety and well-being? Could you make that kind of selfless sacrifice? And (5) by the same token, do you have the courage to fight and make a stand for someone you love?

LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE poses all of these questions and answers them, all in a very poignant way. The central mystery of who “Davide Veroli” and “Simone” really were is the true emotional core of the film. The love story in the present between Giovanna, Filippo, and Lorenzo is interesting, but definitely second to the love story in the past between Davide and Simone. The script’s treatment of Giovanna and Fillipo is interesting - both are presented as imperfect but decent people who are discovering that marriage is one of the hardest things to get right - and requires hard work, understanding, sacrifice, and forgiveness.

It also helps immensely that Giovanna Mezzogiorno and Filippo Negro are absolutely terrific in their roles. Mezzogiorno looks like an Italian blend of Rachel Ward and Debra Winger, and has eyes that say so much even when she’s not speaking. Mezzogiorno is not afraid to play up Giovanna’s rough edges, which prevents the character from turning into the type of bland, idealized heroine that you find in many American films. Even with her imperfections, you still can’t help but be be riveted by her. Watch for the heartbreaking scene towards the end (glimpsed in both the Italian and US trailers above) where Giovanna runs frantically down the stairwell of her building to try and reach Lorenzo below before he drives away forever. If this scene doesn’t move you, you may not be capable of feeling anything.

Filippo Negro does the same magic with Filippo (notice how their characters have their names?), turning him into a blend of fiery temper, kind heart, and tender soul. Negro matches Mezzogiorno, scene for scene - and they make a very believable beleaguered married couple. Just like Mezzogiorno, Negro plays all of Filippo’s sides: good, not-so-good, and in-between. The result is a character that rings true, just like Giovanna. This is a couple that I see everyday, here in the States and also back in Italy.

The only weak spot (and it pains me to write this) is Raoul Bova as Lorenzo - the third point of the triangle. Bova is one of the most attractive men in the world, and he is the spitting image of a close Italian friend who recently visited me, but he is saddled with a character that is too idealized - and therefore a bit bland. Lorenzo is never given much characterization beyond being polished, handsome, and upwardly mobile. By contrast, Filippo - with his open heart and rough edges - is a far more interesting choice. Bova does what he can, but Lorenzo doesn’t get as much shading as everyone else. Had the writers fleshed out Lorenzo a lot more and made him less “perfect” then LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE would rate ****½ (spectacular) instead of just **** (very good).

Fortunately, Lorenzo’s “weak link” is more than made up for a very engaging turn by Massimo Girroti as the mysterious Simone, whose secrets and identity are what kickstart the story in the present, as well as the mystery from the past. Girroti brings a dignified sadness to the role, and you can almost sense him wrapping the memories around him like an armor - an armor that Giovanna tries to unravel while her own love life unravels around her. By the end, Giovanna understands the beauty of “segreto la memoria” - the “secret of memories“. To find out what it is, and to find out if Giovanna makes it down those stairs to reach Lorenzo in time to keep him from leaving, see LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE…

It just might make you consider relocating to Italy for good. Or at least play the wonderful musical score by Andrea Guerra over and over and over again….

REVIEW UPDATE: The Last Five Cinema Italiano Flicks

Hello, all. Happy Hump Day Happy Hour! Due to this new tradition, I will only be able to post one review tonight: the lovely, lovely LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE. The rest of the Cinema Italiano Flicks will post by Friday night. Then this week's Action Films (schedule to be released tonight), shall post over the coming weekend. In between the match between the Sounders and the Toronto FC, that is.

Later!
S.

# 310 - SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO (1964)

SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO (1964 - HORROR / MYSTERY) *** out of *****

(I guess this is what they mean when they say someone is “dressed to kill“…)



CAST: Cameron Mitchell, Eva Bartok, Ariana Gorini, Dante DiPaolo, Thomas Reiner, Mary Arden, Franco Ressell, Claude Dantes, Lea Lander, Francesca Ungaro.

DIRECTOR: Mario Bava

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and some pretty strong arguments against being a fashion model in Italy, straight ahead…




Our last review was Italian auteur Dario Argento’s semi-classic OPERA, which told the tale of a masked killer pursuing an opera singer during a Giuseppe Verdi-flavored production of Macbeth. That film, as well as the rest of Argento’s body of work, pretty much proved that Italy isn’t always a land of sunshine, beautiful cities, gorgeous people, and scrumptious food. Sometimes, it’s a fucking scary place. And our next review pretty much affirms this, the 1964 Mario Bava classic, SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO. Or, in English, SIX WOMEN FOR THE KILLER.

Anyhow, I figured I’d choose a couple of scary Italian flicks to have nice, rounded selection for Cinema Italiano Week. But don’t worry… tomorrow, with the excellent love story LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE as our next review, we go back to the Italy we know and love - you know, the one filled with glowing sunlight, mouth-watering pasta, beautiful women with huge tits and golden-brown eyes, and hunks with endless tufts of chest and belly hair that you just want to rub for good luck - all of whom want nothing more than to have a good time. Thank goodness, too, because I don’t think I can take another movie where almost everyone is dead at the end…

SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO’s title in America is BLOOD AND BLACK LACE, which is also appropriate, since it deals with a killer knocking off fashion models at an Italian atelier one by one in order to conceal an explosive secret. Let’s just say that SCREAM and its sequels are just the latest in a long line of horror films where it doesn’t pay to be beautiful. It usually almost always means you will be fleeing from some masked psycho with a very sharp knife. And, as usual, the Italians invented it first.

Our setting is the elegant and prestigious Como Fashion House, headed up by the Countess Christina Como (Eva Bartok), a woman whose face is so impassive you have to wonder if the Italians weren’t really the ones who secretly invented Botox decades ago and didn’t share it with the rest of the world until recently. Suffice it to say, it’s a good thing the Countess isn’t a model herself, otherwise she’d have a total of only 2 expressions to use during photo shoots. Not exactly job security, if you asked me.

Anyhow, the Countess oversees a whole flock of models with colorful personalities: (1) Isabella (Francesca Ungaro), who - if her fellow models are to be believed - is basically the biggest busybody this side of the Atlantic; (2) Nicole (Ariana Gorini), another busybody who’s dating some furniture store owner (WHAT? Hasn’t this bitch heard that models are supposed to date musicians or other models? A FURNITURE STORE OWNER?!? WTF???); (3) Peggy (Mary Arden), American model who is - yes - another busybody; (4) Greta (Lea Lander), another model who is - oh, why not - yet another busybody; and (5) Clarice (Harriet Medin), the only model who is not a busybody and is named after a kick-ass heroine from a horror movie that won’t come out for another, oh, 24 years (cough, cough, SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, cough, cough).

There are a bunch of other lovely, lovely models, but the above five chicks (plus the Countess) are the titular six women whom the killer declares open season on. It all starts when Isabella gets her fine ass sliced like a halibut by a masked killer on her way to a fashion show. Once her fellow models and the higher-ups at the atelier find out about her untimely demise, they pretty much freak the fuck out. But not as much as when they find out that - GASP! - Isabella kept a diary and was documenting all of her pals’ dirty secrets. As you can imagine, this goes over with that crowd about as well as the news that they’ve somehow contracted syphilis from the clothes they model. Hmmm… seems like someone’s been naughty - and Isabella knew all about it.

Before you know it, everyone is trying to get their hands on that diary. And, apparently, someone is also willing to kill for it, because soon Isabella’s murder is followed by another, then another, then another, then another. Before long, the Como Atelier is starting to look a lot like a Ghost Town - only a lot more stylishly decorated (this is Italy, after all). If this shit keeps up, there won’t be anyone left to model the clothes but the mannequins themselves.

Who is the killer? And why is she (he?) so intent on getting that diary? What did she (he?) do that would be worth killing people for? Is it Nicole? Peggy? Greta? The Countess? Clarice? Or one of their boyfriends? Or is it one of the cops investigating Isabella’s murder? For the love of Giorgio Armani, who is it?!?!

Personally, I think it’s Raoul Bova. Now those are some killer looks. He can kill me any day… And since I just spent the most of last week with a visiting friend who looks just like him, I know what I’m talking about…



Yes. Very yes.



BUT, SERIOUSLY: There are many who argue whether or not Dario Argento or Mario Bava is the true creator of the Giallo Genre. The Giallo is a type of Italian film that has some immutable characteristics: (1) an innocent lead - usually a foreigner - living in Italy who is plunged into a sinister mystery; (2) a vicious killer who will stop at nothing to protect a dark secret from coming to light; (3) colorful, almost beautiful setpieces that turn fear and mayhem into works of art; and (4) a revelation of whodunit that often comes from left field.

Sound familiar? These elements are present in everything from the original HALLOWEEN all the way to the recent SCREAM 4. Bottom line: regardless of who did what first, both Bava and Argento introduced a formula that has been copied over and over again and will likely continue to be so. Bava probably first introduced the template with THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH and SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO, but Argento unquestionably refined the rules that would give birth to the modern slasher film, leading to future hits like FRIDAY THE 13th, HALLOWEEN, PROM NIGHT, SCREAM, and their sequels.

Mario Bava’s direction epitomizes “style over substance” - but what style. He turns the movie’s settings into a nightmarish funhouse of shifting shadows and light, making everything and everyone a threat. Indeed, there is a constant feeling of danger to SEI DONNE, which never lets up until the final frame. No one and nobody is safe, which is a stark difference from a lot of later slasher films where the leads seem to be guaranteed safe passage through the film’s events by virtue of their billing. This has the effect of keeping us on our toes.

There are a lot of great setpieces here: (1) Isabella’s encounter with the “assassino” at the opening; (2) Nicole’s harrowing chase through the furniture store which clearly inspired a similar sequence in the underrated 1983 film CURTAINS; and (3) the final revelation of whodunit - which makes perfect sense when you think about it. SEI DONNE basically gave us some of the most creatively frightening sequences that very few of its progenitors have managed to come close to matching.

The only thing that keeps SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO from rating higher is that we don’t really get a single character to identify with and follow through the film. Most of the models are either unlikable or killed off before we get too attached to them. The only character who really remains alive until close to the end is the Countess, and she is either too under-developed or portrayed as too unsympathetic for us to really root for. It doesn’t help that most of the acting is somewhat wooden, with some rather weak dialogue.

What elevates SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO, in the end, is its sheer confidence and style. Those are both intrinsically Italian traits, and this film has it in abundance - enough to make up for its many glaring flaws. The result is a movie that has been much imitated - but has few peers in terms of sheer cinematic bravura.

# 309 - OPERA (1987)

OPERA (1987 - HORROR / MYSTERY) *** out of *****

(Now, that‘s just fucked up…)



CAST: Cristina Marsillach, Ian Charleson, Urbano Barberini, Daria Nicolodi, Coraline-Cataldi-Tassoni, William McNamara, Antonella Vitale, Barbara Cupisti.

DIRECTOR: Dario Argento

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and some pretty strong arguments against ever going to the opera - straight ahead.




That Dario Argento is one sick motherfucker. Don’t get me wrong - I love the guy as if he were an eccentric (really, really eccentric) Italian uncle. He’s given me (and a lot of other bizarros) many moments of sheer cinematic exhilaration with horror classics like SUSPIRIA, PHENOMENA, DEEP RED, TENEBRAE, and THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE. But once in a while, our boy Dario foists something on us that even I am at a loss to explain. That would be our first Cinema Italiano review: the 1987 horror semi-classic OPERA.

Remember the 1993 murder-and-voyeurism thriller SLIVER? Remember its borderline-dirty poster tagline that asked: “You Like To Watch, Don’t You?” Well, if OPERA had an alternate tagline it would be this: “You Have No Choice But To Fucking Watch, Bitch.” You see, OPERA is Dario Argento’s modern (and very twisted) take on the Gaston LeRoux classic “The Phantom of the Opera.” We basically have a psychotic killer who is also a fan of a talented opera singer, and he kills everyone around her. That would be a bad enough thing, but the nutjob also forces her to watch the slayings - by tying her up and taping pins under her eyes to keep from blinking or closing them.

Like I said - sick motherfucker.

Fortunately, Argento is also a talented motherfucker, so even with the disturbing modus operandi outlined above, he still manages to take us for an entertaining ride. Our heroine is Betty (Cristina Marsillach), an operatta (read: upcoming opera singer) and understudy who gets her big break when the bitchy star of their latest production of “MacBeth” gets a big break of her own - right around the femur bone of her left leg courtesy of an oncoming taxi. Incapacitated with a broken limb, the star has no choice to bow out of the role - which opens the path for Betty to pull an ALL ABOUT EVE-style bushwhack.

This delights the following people: (1) Mira (Daria Nicolodi), Betty’s agent and confidante who has been waiting for this moment for-fucking-ever and can barely contain her glee that it has now arrived; (2) Marco (Ian Charleson), brooding director of the production who has a serious woody for Betty even though he’s dating a nuclear-hot supermodel named Marion (Antonella Vitale); (3) Giulia (Coralina Cataldi-Tassoni), spastic wardrobe director who always seems one tweak away from spinning her head around and puking green bile in every direction; (4) Inspector Santini (Urbano Barberini), smokin’ hot cop who also has a serious woody for Betty; (5) Stefano (William McNamara), stage manager who has yet another serious woody for Betty; and (6) Mr. Masked Psycho Killer (unknown), who probably has the biggest woody of them all for Betty - and doesn’t mind killing everyone around her to prove it.

Before you know it, people around Betty start getting carved up - and every single time she is forced to, ahem, watch the whole thing because of the aforementioned needles-taped-under-the-eyes number that Mr. Masked Psycho Killer seems to carry conveniently around. Each time, she manages to escape at the last minute and does what anyone of us would do in a similar situation: wander around aimlessly like nothing fucking happened. All together now: HUH???!??!

Meanwhile, Mr. Masked Psycho Killer is ramping up his attacks. Will he finally make Betty the centerpiece of his next crime? Or will she outwit his somehow? What the hell does this nutjob want, anyway? What secret from Betty’s past might solve this killing spree in the present? Who is the killer? Marco? Santini? Marion? Mira? Giulia? Stefano? Or is it… someone else? Is it - gasp! - Silvio Berlusconi?

I heard he likes opera and hot chicks, so it’s not too farfetched. Not in my book anyway…


BUT, SERIOUSLY: If there was ever a director who polarized audiences to stark degrees, it’s Italian auteur Dario Argento, whose string of successful and stylish “giallos” (super-surreal and colorful Italian horror/thrillers) in the 70s and 80s led him to be branded “The Italian Hitchcock”. Mario Bava may have set the stage for the “Giallo” genre with THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH and SEI DONNE PER L’ASSASSINO (SIX WOMEN FOR THE KILLER - our next review), but it is Argento’s films that cemented the formula which would be much imitated all the way to recent hit franchises like the SCREAM films. Bottom line: Argento was very influential - more so than people realize.

But, as I mentioned above, he often divided his audiences. Those of us who love his work often cite pluses like gripping set-pieces and artful direction that turn the films into hallucinatory journeys through disturbing dream worlds. Those who despise his oeuvre often cite the usual suspects: bad dubbing, awful acting, illogical plots, too much style over substance, clunky and silly dialogue. And even us Argento fans have to agree that the nay-sayers have a legitimate gripe. Argento has never been a careful plotter, being more concerned with the visual and emotional impact of his stories - not the intellectual.

A prime example of this is his 1987 hit OPERA, which would mark the end of his Golden Era - a time that began with his first film THE BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMAGE back in 1970. OPERA is Argento’s last film that effectively combines his strengths to the point that they almost make up for the weaknesses. This film is regarded highly among Argento circles because of the sleek and scary way it transfers a “Giallo” set-up to the world of OPERA, and by how it updates the classic “Phantom of the Opera” plotline for modern audiences.

How do I feel about it? Well, it is certainly above average for Argento... But is it as good as other Argento fans think? In my humble opinion? Not really. Unlike SUSPIRIA, DEEP RED, and PHENOMENA, which all had somewhat cohesive plotlines with protagonists who behaved more or less like reasonable human beings, OPERA suffers from having a protagonist who doesn’t react properly to the mayhem unfolding around her. Betty as essayed by Cristina Marsillach is just too detached and calm considering the trauma the killer repeatedly subjects her to. I’m a pretty stoic and calm person, but if I was forced to watch three of my friends be murdered in front of me, I can assure you I would not be as unfazed as Betty seems to be. I suspect this has less to do with Marsillach’s performance as it does with Argento’s typically lazy writing and characterization.

Another plot weakness is the flimsy police procedural thread, which gives us some of the dumbest cops this side of Keystone. These guys seems just as unconcerned about the maniac loose in their midst as Betty is. How are we supposed to feel a sense of danger if no one even seems worried? You didn’t feel this way about the events in SUSPIRIA, DEEP RED, and PHENOMENA, which all had constantly-rising tension. OPERA had the potential to match or even overtake these films and became a classic in its own right, but Argento shoots himself in the foot with his lackadaisical plotting.

So… why then does OPERA rate a *** (above average)? Easy: because of some truly stellar set-pieces and sequences. Most Argento films have at least two of these, and they are often enough to save or even distinguish them. SUSPIRIA, DEEP RED, TENEBRAE, and PHENOMENA were all distinguished by their respective set-pieces because they had fairly solid narratives to begin with. OPERA, on the other hand, is merely saved by its remarkable sequences because of its rather flimsy set-up. Still, that’s enough.

Some great scenes to look out for: (1) Betty’s opening debut, (2) the killer coming after her and Mira in her cavernous apartment, (3) Mira’s shocking death scene (you’ll think twice before peeking through peephole ever again) (3) Marco releasing the ravens to ferret out the killer during a show, and (4) the final cat-and-mouse chase between the killer and Betty in Switzerland after we think everything is over with. Argento is in top form during these inspired moments, and they elevate OPERA above the average mark for an Argento movie. Thank goodness, too, because the cast - with the exception of Ian Charleson as Marco - play their roles a little too over-the-top and histrionic. This is a weakness for a lot of Argento’s films, but never more than here. Fortunately, Argento does such a good job of juxtaposing scenes of pure beauty with jarring violence that we are constantly pulled back into the action. This dichotomy echoes the same vibe he gave SUSPIRIA - without question his most successful film to date.

In the end, OPERA is falls in the middle area of the Argento canon. It’s a stylish, beautifully-filmed, but uneven horror/thriller that would’ve been as good as SUSPIRIA, DEEP RED, and PHENOMENA had the script been given a couple more careful rewrites and strengthened. But, fortunately, it’s not the worst of Argento’s movies. Like its American distant cousin SLIVER, OPERA is an interesting misfire.

REVIEW UPDATE: The Cinema Italiano Flicks...

Hi, folks...

With the posting of FEVER PITCH, we can start up with the Cinema Italiano flicks from last week. I do apologize for being seven reviews behind, but with various friends visiting - one of them from Bella Italia itself - you can't really blame me for living it up. Let's just say I can't remember the last time I consumed so many Bloody Marys. God bless Blood Marys, sunshine, laughter, and old friends from near and far - especially the ones who look just like Raoul Bova. Time to move back to Italy...

At any rate, please expect all of the Cinema Italiano Flicks to post by Wednesday. Then we'll start on next week's reviews. Please find below a reminder of the Cinema Italiano flicks. Then below that, a slide show of next week's movie reviews. Guess the theme!

# 309 - OPERA (HORROR / MYSTERY)

# 310 - SEI DONNE PER LE ASSASSINO (HORROR / MYSTERY)

# 311 - LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE (ROMANCE / DRAMA)

# 312 - GOMORRAH (DRAMA)

# 313 - DIVORZIA L'ITALIANO (COMEDY)

# 314 - CINEMA PARADISO (COMEDY / DRAMA)

# 315 - MALENA (COMEDY)



And please find below our Sneak Peek of next week's flicks. Hmmmmm..... what could these films have in common?

# 308 - FEVER PITCH (1997)

FEVER PITCH (1997 - COMEDY / DRAMA / SOCCER-FOOTBALL FLICK) ***½ out of *****

(Personally, this guy is my Prince Charming…)



CAST: Colin Firth, Ruth Gemmell, Mark Strong, Holly Aird, Neil Pearson, Lorraine Ashborne.

DIRECTOR: David Evans

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and some rather sticky love vs. football offside traps straight ahead…




Hello, folks. I know we just finished Soccer/Football Week # 2 recently; however, in light of the impending Seattle Sounders vs. Toronto FC match that is just around the corner (and we are so there with choice seats), I’ve decided to add one Soccer Flick to our Jelly Bean Grab Bag list. The film is called FEVER PITCH, and it basically chronicles what happens when the Biggest Football Fan In All Of England meets the Most Uptight Bitch In All Of England Who Also Hates Football. In other words: ha, ha - good luck with that.

Our hero is Paul Ashmore (Colin Firth), and to say that he loves football is like saying a Great White Shark has a weakness for seals. Actually, that’s sort of disrespectful to the Great White Sharks of the world, who arguable display more self-control and judgement. Want proof? Well, for starters, Paul loves the local football club the Arsenals so much, that he owns boxers with the club logo. Somehow, I don’t think you’d catch a Great White Shark wearing seal-themed sports briefs. You could counter-argue by saying sharks don’t wear underwear, and I could rebut by stating that you need to come with me the next time I go on bar crawl. I can show you a whole variety of sharks wearing a whole array of underoos.

Anyhow, Paul has been a rabid fan of the Arsenals since his Pops (Neil Pearson) first dragged him to a game over 21 years ago. Let’s just say that time hasn’t done much to water down Paul’s ardor for the sport. If anything, it’s made him more, well, insane about it. The guy eats, breathes, shits, and wanks football. Ostensibly a teacher, Paul actually spends most of his classroom time talking football with his students and basically leading them in chants and cheers.

Someone who thinks is absolute bollocks is fellow teacher Sarah Hughes (Ruth Gemmell). Sarah is new to the school where Paul teaches, and basically walks around like a steel rod was shoved up her ass at birth and never removed. It’s no great surprise, then, when she is not charmed by Paul’s developmentally-arrested antics. Instead, she basically dresses him down in front of his students - and orders him to shut the fuck up about the football already. Let’s just say that Sarah is not exactly a fan.

Now, folks, in the real world, a rabid football fan and a rabid anti-football protester have about as much chance of hooking up as your average Christian fundementalist reverend and RuPaul. In the movies, though, anything goes. And so we basically have no choice but to watch as Paul and Sarah, you know, go on dates that are constantly interrupted by, you got it, the specter of the Arsenals.

For example, during one conversation in his car, Sarah thinks Paul’s responses have been to her questions, but he’s actually been responding to the sports announcer on the radio. You men out there know that is basically a great way to get smacked upside over the head. And you women out there are probably practicing your smacking technique right now.

And then, as if trying to start a relationship based on anything except shared common interest wasn’t enough of a Cluster Fuck, Sarah finds out that Paul apparently forgot to either wear a rubber one night - or pull out in time and dump his load onto the carpet next to the bed. Yes, folks… she’s preggers. With child. Bun in the oven. Expecting. Eating for two. Or my favorite one: assed out. Because, let’s face it: there’s a very good chance that the kid will pop out wearing cleats. Much to Paul’s joy, I’m sure.

How will this all turn out? Can Paul and Sarah actually have a real relationship when she hates the very thing he loves the most? Will Paul realize that he needs to make room for another passion in his life? Will he walk away from football? Or will he succeed in converting Sarah? Will she go for it? Or is she - gasp! - a closet football fanatic, after all?!?! Is she actually even more knowledgeable about the sport than he is?

See the movie and find out. Just don’t blame me if you walk out of this flick wanting to book a flight to England and watch a football match. If you see Paul and Sarah, moon them for me, would ya?


BUT, SERIOUSLY: Last December, during our first Soccer/Football Flick week, we reviewed BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM and GOAL: THE DREAM BEGINS. During our very recent second Soccer/Football Flick week, we reviewed MEAN MACHINE and GOAL 2: LIVING THE DREAM. In all of these reviews, we discussed just how revered the sport of football is in the British Isles. Having lived in Europe and visited England several times, I can attest to this fact myself. The Brits love their football - perhaps as much as the Italians. Maybe even more, although my Italian friends would contest this.

At any rate, the movies we mentioned above illustrate the British love for football in both broad and specific ways, showing how passion for the sport affects friendships and family. None of them, though, show how it affects romance. In this regard, FEVER PITCH is somewhat unique compared to BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM and the GOAL movies. In essence, it’s about a man who matures enough to have a real relationship with a woman. The soccer/football angle, while pivotal, is also almost incidental to the story. What Paul and Sarah face is the same path that new couples all over the world face: getting to know one another and building a genuine romantic relationship.

In FEVER PITCH, the stumbling block is Paul’s love for football, which is initially not shared by Sarah. However, as the film progresses, and after several setbacks, they begin to exert a positive influence on one another. Sarah’s no-nonsense, tough-love approach helps Paul grow up a bit, while his very real passion for the sport rubs off on her to the point where she finds herself being pulled into the games and matches. Indeed, the best scenes are of Sarah embracing her growing appreciation for football.

If FEVER PITCH does a good job of charting Paul and Sarah’s rocky road to commitment, it does just as remarkable a job of conveying the beauty of the sport - and the sometimes inexplicable (and unspoken) love people have for it. Watch for the flashbacks to Paul’s childhood when he first walks into a bustling soccer stadium. The wonder and awe that takes over his face signals to us that a lifelong fan is being born. Also quite lovely are the scenes between the young Paul and his father where the older Ashmore schools the younger one on the fine art of being a football fan. Being a closet football fan myself, I can attest that all these scenes ring true.

A lot of how effective FEVER PITCH is can be attributed to its cast. Many people may be surprised at the normally elegant and composed Colin Firth taking on the role of the unkempt and unpolished Paul Ashmore. The thing is, the unexpected casting really works. Firth blends seamlessly into the role. The fact that he can be cool, distant and aloof in fare like the BRIDGET JONES movies and PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, then turn around and play this very “average” guy with issues, is a testament to the actor’s range and talent.

A romantic comedy/drama cannot succeed unless both leads are strong, and Ruth Gemmell is commanding as the initially-forbidding Sarah Hughes. In fact, Sarah is almost too sharp-edged in these introductory scenes, that you wonder how in the world she and Paul could ever get together. Fortunately, Gemmell gradually (and skillfully) allows the character to melt - degree by degree - until we see her in a position where she must choose to give Paul - and football - a chance, or lose someone who is an unexpected soulmate. Gemmell (and Sarah) is at her best when she allows the character to drop her defenses and be open and real. I should also add that she and Firth make a handsome couple.

But FEVER PITCH is not just a love story between a man and a woman. It’s also a romance between a man and something that has been part of his life for over 21 years - the sport of football. And like all romances, whether platonic or not, things change and the players (no pun intended) need to re-asses where they stand. What Paul needs to determine is whether his love for football has been so all-consuming that it hasn’t left much room for anyone else to get into his heart. And if so, does he need to choose between Sarah and football - or simply re-arrange to make room for both? The answer to this questions is why FEVER PITCH rates as a good film.

On a final note, please know that there’s an American remake to FEVER PITCH with the same title starring Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore that came out in 2005. This remake changes the sport from football/soccer to baseball. This obviously is due to the unfortunate fact that America remains one of the very few countries that hasn’t quite fully embraced professional soccer. It may appear that it has, but when you look at Italy, England, and even remote third world countries, you realize that we have a long way to go in appreciating what is the best game ever.

Now, let’s say a prayer that the Sounders trounce Toronto…

REVIEW UPDATE: FEVER PITCH and The Cine Italiano Flicks...

Hi, folks...

My head has finally stopped pounding from all Bloody Marys and Screwdrivers from last night, and I'm actually able to type without my cat's assistance. Just a quick note to say that FEVER PITCH, the last of the Jelly Bean Grab Bag Flicks, will post tonight. And tomorrow we'll slide into this past week's Italian flicks.

Please excuse the delay. Company's in town, and the sun is shining and I have to be the Host With The Most...

Have a great weekend!

# 307 - THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT (1995)

THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT (1995 - ROMANCE / DRAMA) **** out of *****

(Well, I guess a quiet dinner at Denny‘s is out of the question…)



CAST: Michael Douglas, Annette Bening, Michael J. Fox, Martin Sheen, Anna Deavere Smith, Samantha Mathis, Richard Dreyfus, John Mahoney.

DIRECTOR: Rob Reiner

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and rather stark lessons in dating someone whom even folks in rural Madagascar recognize by name.





In our recent review of THE PRINCE AND ME (review # 297), we explored the unlikely romance between a sexy, footloose Danish prince (Luke Mably) who goes undercover as just another foreign exchange student at the University of Wisconsin, and the formidable, intense pre-med student (Julia Stiles) who steals his heart and matures him. THE PRINCE AND ME is a prime example of a sub-genre of the Romantic Comedy Genre which I like to call the “Fuck Yeah! Flick“. Meaning some lucky average Joe or Jane totally lucks out and wins the heart of a very famous and powerful person. In other words, Fuck Yeah!

In our latest review, the ultimate Fuck Yeah! Flick titled THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT, a sleek lobbyist’s world gets turned upside down when she catches the eye (and hard-on) of a certain dude that lives in a big, um, white house on Pennsylvania Avenue. Not just any dude, though. The one who can also order the bombing of a Middle Eastern nation as easily as scratching his nose, and travels around with a lot of grumpy-looking guys and gals in suits and earpieces. If you still can’t figure out who it is, do this: stare at the title of this review until it hits you. If that doesn’t work, then God help you and whatever children you end up having. Maybe I recommend some serious birth control?

At any rate, for those of you with an IQ higher than room temperature, I am indeed referring to the, ahem, American President. He is Andrew Shepherd (Michael Douglas), and he’s the perfect guy: smart, funny, sincere, available, and capable of getting the best table at any restaurant no matter how booked it may be. And when I wrote that Andrew is available, it’s because he’s a widower. See, the First Lady croaked right after he assumed office. Now, he’s a single father with a teenage daughter named Lucy (Shawna Waldron) who is so adorable and wholesome you can’t help but pray she falls in with a biker gang when she goes off to college and turns into a Harley Ho. Let’s see the Secret Service try to control her then.

In case you’re wondering who our “Fuck Yeah!” character is, she would be Sydney Ellen Wade (Annette Bening). Sydney is a lobbyist for the environment whose group is trying to get the White House to pass a Greenhouse Gas Emissions bill. It’s Sydney’s single-minded fervor in trying to achieve this goal that leads her to one of the more colossally awkward first meetings in Romantic Comedy History. Essentially, she calls the Leader of the Free World a delusional idiot whose address is somewhere between Donald Duck’s and Mickey Mouse’s at Disneyland. The only problem is Andrew The Prez is standing right behind her the whole time. Ooopsie.

Like I said… awkward. Now, you’d think this would signal the death nell for any potential relationship between Andy and Sydney. Fortunately, Andrew is no different from men the world over: the more shit a woman flips him, the more he wants to fuck her. Just because the guy sits in the Oval Office doesn’t necessarily make him smarter than his hormones. I think we can look back to certain events in the late 90’s to attest to that. Two words: blue dress. Seven more words: next time, get out of the way.

Needless to say, before you know it Andrew’s doing the following things: (1) calling Sidney at her sister’s flat where she’s crashing until her own flat is ready; (2) sending her - and I swear I am not making this shit up - a whole Virginia Ham instead of flowers; and (3) generally behaving like John Cusack in SAY ANYTHING, only somehow more dorky. If you thought Paige from THE PRINCE AND ME had problems ahead of her for dating Prince Eddie, imagine what Sydney’s about to face. The only way she could top herself is if she started dating God.

To make matters more complicated (and you knew that was coming, hello), a crusty Senator named Bob Rumson (Richard Dreyfus) launches a character assassination campaign on both Sydney and Andrew for political gain during an election year. Rumson basically calls her a ho and calls him her, I guess, high-powered pimp. Before long, the press is singing the same tune and Sidney finds herself being placed in the same general category that Snooki from JERSEY SHORE is now in. Not the most flattering category, if you ask me. Soon enough, Andrew’s approval ratings begin to drop faster than a face running on Botox fumes. To say that Andrew’s Chief of Staff (Martin Sheen) is a tad pissed off would be stating the obvious just a fucking wee bit.

Will Andrew and Sydney’s romance survive politics? Or will Sydney have to walk away from the man she loves? Or will it be Andrew who has to make this terrible choice? Why do they even have to choose anyway? Will Rumson ever let up? Or will Andrew man up and defend himself and his ho, er, lady. And the most important question of all: is The American President a great lay?

Sydney? We’re waiting, dear… and don’t give us that “a lady never tells” bullshit.

BUT, SERIOUSLY: In the intro, I wrote about a sub-genre of the Romantic Comedy Genre that deals with members of royalty or the uber-elite falling for commoners. Examples include THE PRINCE AND ME, NOTTING HILL, ROMAN HOLIDAY, and - to lesser extents - CHASING LIBERTY and FIRST DAUGHTER. The best of them, though, is the Rob Reiner/Aaron Sorkin gem called THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT.

The central conceit of these films (an ordinary person and extraordinary person meet and fall in love) is timeless and magical. So strong is this premise that even potentially average fare like CHASING LIBERTY gets elevated somewhat to become something engaging. Imagine this set-up at the center of a strongly-constructed and sharply-written film, and you may be dealing with a classic. Which is essentially what THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT is.

The appeal of these films, especially this one, lies in the struggle to have a romance between members of vastly different leagues survive the obstacles and elements placed by society and culture in their way. THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT is presented in a way that is relatively believable, and this allows us to buy into the relationship between President Shepherd and Sydney Wade. Their romance is this movie’s motor, and no matter what happens around it (like political wrangling and scheming), the story remains anchored in a very human place.

Michael Douglas and Annette Bening are ideally cast in their roles. Douglas successfully suppresses the smarmy side that he so often uses in many of his anti-hero or villain roles, and plays up his natural likability to turn President Andrew Shepherd into a very affable personality. Douglas, however, retains just enough mischief and playfulness to keep the character from turning into an idealized bore, and it’s this serious/light dichotomy that meshes well with Bening’s role. Sydney is just as amiable and assertive as Andrew, and Bening plays up just enough of her strength without turning her too hard, and emphasizes just enough of her vulnerability without turning her too soft. Both Douglas and Bening take ownership of their roles to the extent that you can’t see anyone else playing them. That’s when you know a performer has done a terrific job.

The supporting cast is filled with such recognizable and talented faces as Martin Sheen, Michael J. Fox, Anna Deavere Smith, Richard Dreyfus, and Samantha Mathis. These folks take the roles that writer Aaron Sorkin gave them and turn them into vivid, memorable turns which nicely complement the very strong work of the film’s leads. Dreyfus and Sheen, in particular, are excellent.

Bottom line: this movie belongs to Michael Douglas, Annette Bening, that stellar supporting cast, and the timeless story that they all bring to exciting life.

REVIEW UPDATE: THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT and FEVER PITCH

Happy Hump Day, folks...

In honor or of our new tradition of Hump Day Happy Hours, I have not finished the last of the Jelly Bean Grab Bag reviews (see subject line above). They will, however, post tomorrow evening. Hopefully. Kidding.

When they do, we shall launch into this week's Cine Italiano Week, in honor of a blast from my Italian past who's in town. Gotta love it...

Buon Mercoledi Notte...

# 306 - SCREAM 4 (2011)

SCREAM 4 (2011 - HORROR / MYSTERY) *** out of *****

(Ghostface trots out the ol‘ “What‘s your favorite scary movie“ yet another time… Excuse me for not shitting my pants with fear…)



CAST: Neve Campbell, David Arquette, Courtney Cox, Emma Roberts, Hayden Panettierre, Nico Tortorella, Adam Brody, Anthony Anderson, Brittany Robertson, Lucy Hale, Alison Brie.

DIRECTOR: Wes Craven

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and more Ghostface antics straight ahead…




I remember the first time I heard about SCREAM back in 1996. I was living in Japan, and a friend who’d gone back to the States on vacation had caught it in theatres and returned to the Land of the Rising Sun singing its praises. He made it sound like the best thing since indoor plumbing and boxer briefs. Unfortunately, because he was drunk at a barracks party, he felt the need to recount the whole story - blow by bloody blow. And because we were all as drunk as he was, we just sat there and listened, slack-jawed, as he gave away every. Single. Fucking. Plot Twist.

Of course, to be fair, I can’t really blame him. No one made me slam back ten shots of vodka with a tumbler of gin as a chaser on a dare. When you do something like that, folks, the sort of judgment that would make you cover your ears to keep from hearing something you don’t want to hear, pretty much goes down the toilet. Needless to say, by the time he was done yapping, there was nothing about SCREAM that I didn’t know: who lives, who dies, who has the best chase scenes, who has the bloodiest kill, and - most devastatingly - who the killer (killers?) are.

By the time SCREAM came to the base theatre in Japan, I just sat in my seat seeing every plot beat coming from a mile away. Thanks to my flapping-mouthed buddy who did too good of a job of breaking down the movie’s plot. Determined not to go through this shite again, I deliberately avoided reviews and commentaries on SCREAM 2 and SCREAM 3 when they came out, and had a pleasant time getting my head spun around by the revelation of whodunit. Okay, maybe just for SCREAM 2. As far as SCREAM 3, I really didn’t give a rat’s ass who was behind that mask.

And now SCREAM 4 arrives in theatres, nine years after SCREAM 3, with a promise to reinvent the “Slasher Rules” for the Twitter Generation. And you know that’s the main demographic of this flick, because the obligatory opening murder sequence shows two teenaged chicks (Lucy Hale and Shenae Grimes) texting someone who is probably someone they should leave the hell alone. Needless to say, they don’t quit while they‘re ahead - and their jugular veins will never forgive them for it. That’s all I’m going to say about this scene, because it’s one of the better ones in the flick.

So, after our obligatory opening bloodbath, we focus on the main group of dead meat, er, characters who will find themselves at the mercy of yet another Ghostface killer. There are the returning survivors from the first three flicks: (1) Sidney Prescott (Never Campbell), a heroine so used to playing cat-and-mouse with killers that she could have an infomercial for a training DVD or something; (2) Dewey Riley (David Arquette), doofus deputy from the first SCREAM who is now - steel yourselves - the Sheriff; and (3) Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox), former cutthroat tabloid reporter who is now a blocked writer itching to get back into the game.

Then there’s the new platter of cold cuts: (1) Jill Roberts (Emma Roberts), Sidney’s virginal cousin who is basically Sidney 2.0; (2) Kirby Reed (Hayden Panettierre), Sidney 2.0’s best pal who is one of those smart-ass movie buffs (ahem); (3) Trevor (Nico Tortorella), Sidney 2.0’s cheating hunk of a boyfriend who, shall we say, gets it where it really counts later on (you’ll see); (4) Olivia (Marielle Jaffe), hot slut who is basically Ghostface fodder; (5) Robbie (Erik Knudsen), irritating film geek who you can’t wait to see gutted; (6) Charlie (Rory Culkin), second irritating film geek who you can’t wait to gutted even more; and (7) Deputy Judy Hicks (Marley Shelton), hot sidekick to our Sheriff Riley who is also a closet baker.

Anyhow, these walking dead bodies all converge on Woodsboro, CA, the site of the original SCREAM massacre. Sidney is now a bestselling self-help author who is in town to promote her new book. Apparently, surviving three massacres is a great training ground for emotional transformation. Forgive me, though, for not buying into it one goddamn bit. Because if there’s anything I learned from the last three SCREAMS, it’s this: Sidney Prescott is like Jessica Fletcher from MURDER SHE WROTE - wherever she goes, someone’s gonna croak. In Sidney’s case, lots of someones.

Sure enough, our reliable slasher Ghostface shows up and starts cutting through the cold cuts mentioned above like an overgrown backyard before Fourth of July weekend. Throw in some red herrings, a couple of okay chase scenes, some false alarms, a really sexy haircut for my girl Hayden Panettierre, a surprise killer from left field and basically we’ve got SCREAM rebooted for the Facebook crowd.

I think I liked it better back in 1996.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: Like I wrote above, SCREAM 4 is just as much a remake of SCREAM as it is a sequel to the trilogy. Each of the major characters from the first film have younger equivalents in this movie: Sidney, Jill; Tatum, Kirby; Billy, Trevor; Dewey, Judy; Randy, Robbie; Stu, Charlie; Gale, Rebecca.

While this is an unorthodox approach, it’s not necessarily a clever one. Mainly because when you hew closely to the original film as this one does, you end up not exploring new territory the way SCREAM 2 and SCREAM 3 did. The result is an overwhelming sense of familiarity that fails to kick up the suspense to highly-adrenalized levels.

Another liability of SCREAM 4’s is the absence of any truly great setpieces. SCREAM was full of them: Casey’s (Drew Barrymore) opening murder scene, Sidney’s first attack, Tatum’s attack, and the final revelation of who the killers were. SCREAM 2 also had its own memorable sequences: Maureen and Phil’s (Jada Pinkett Smith and Omar Epps) double murder at theatre, Cece (Sarah Michelle Gellar) being terrorized in her sorority house alone, Randy’s murder in a busy campus quadrangle in broad daylight, Gale’s harrowing chase through the film department/radio station after hours. Even the fairly weak SCREAM 3 had one eye-opening moment in its opening murder sequence with Cotton Weary (Live Schreiber).

SCREAM 4, on the other hand, doesn’t have anything that matches the set pieces from the trilogy before it. Much has been made about the movie-within-a-movie opening sequence, but I didn’t find it that interesting. It almost seemed like Ghostface was going through the motions. The same goes for the equally trumpeted attack on Rebecca in the parking garage. They reshot the scene just to get this? I’d hate to see how it was before. It probably put the test audience to sleep. The only scene that shows promise is the attack on Olivia while Kirby and Jill watch helplessly from across the street. But the sequence is over before it can really register.

The reason SCREAM 4 rates above average are two-fold: (1) the energy and talent of its cast, especially Neve Campbell who has never made Sidney Prescott more compelling than she is here, and Hayden Panettiere who is easily the most intriguing of the new faces; and (2) the truly surprising twist about the killer’s identity. I started to suspect it about ten minutes before the revelation - and it was still a delicious surprise. It was a daring choice, and it helps save this film somewhat.

In the end, SCREAM 4 is a little too familiar to be a truly good movie. But its engaging cast and that final twist are just enough to keep it from being an average experience. For a film that probably wasn’t necessary, that’s about the best you can hope for.

# 305 - LEAP YEAR (2010)

LEAP YEAR (2010 - COMEDY / ROMANCE) *** out of *****

(Let me get this straight - all I have to do is wait until Feb 29 to propose to either Uma Thurman, Chris Evans, Neve Campbell, or Russell Crowe, and I‘m in there? Seriously?)



CAST: Amy Adams, Matthew Goode, Adam Scott, John Lithgow, Maggie McCarthy,Pat Laffan.

DIRECTOR: Anand Tucker

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and rather nightmarish Irish road trips - straight ahead…




Italy is the most beautiful place on earth, with the most beautiful food and the most beautiful people. I’m not going to mince words here, folks: Italy is Paradise. I had the fortune of living there for over a total of 3.5 years. And having spent all that time there, I can say unequivocally that, despite all that perfection, there is still a downside. And that downside is… you can’t be bothered to go anywhere else. Which would normally be fine. Until someone invites you to go with them to another country on holiday - and you’re response is something along the lines of, “Succhiare mia sinistra dado, stronzos.” Which roughly translates to “Suck my left nut, assholes.”

I remember some fellow American friends planning to go from our homes in Italy to Ireland over the 4th of July weekend - and I told them that they could forget about me going. Why? Well, just two reasons: (1) Why the hell would you spend Independence Day in a country that’s part of a Kingdom that, you know, tried like hell to keep us from, you know, being able to have an Independence Day? …and (2) Why would you leave Bella Italia with all its sun, sea, and olive-skinned hotties for Ireland and all its rain, rutty roads, and pasty-assed limeys? Come on, bitches… argue with me on this one. I dare you.

Bottom line: Ireland is one of the few places I’ve never been to. Mainly because I couldn’t be bothered to leave behind the Stefanos, Paolos, Lucas, Giulianos, Marcos, and Enzos that ran the streets of Rome and Naples like wild animals in the World’s Sexiest Game Park - and I was their park ranger. Actually, more like a Petting Zoo. Ahem. Needless to say, I was thinking with the other head. Just keeping it real, folks. Anyone who’s been to Italy knows what the hell I’m talking about. And I didn’t regret my decision to stay behind in the Land of Sexy even just one bit.

Then I watched our latest review, the Ireland-set romantic comedy LEAP YEAR, and immediately wondered if I should have just suppressed my hormones long enough to leave Italy and have a short holiday in the Land of Elves. Or is that shamrocks? Or Jameson’s Whiskey? Whatever. Anyhow, if LEAP YEAR is anything to go by, Ireland is the second most beautiful place in the World after Italy. Not hard to surmise when you have hotties Amy Adams and Matthew Goode headlining the movie and doing the “bickering-couple-falls-in-love thing” amidst rolling green fields and sparkling lakes.

Our heroine is a Boston yank named Anna Brady (Amy Adams), who is one of those yuppie chicks who has her ear glued to her BlackBerry 70% of the time. The other 30% is spent dialing numbers. In other words, this chick seriously needs a vacation - fast. Otherwise, she just might die from BlackBerry overdose. Thankfully, an opportunity to get the hell out of Beantown soon presents itself.

The opportunity I speak of is a piece of folklore so utterly laughable it has to be true: apparently, the Irish have a tradition where women can propose to their men on Leap Day. This has a direct bearing on our dear Anna because of the following things: (1) her man Jeremy (Adam Scott), a renowned cardiovascular surgeon, has gone to Dublin on business; (2) she wants to marry him that same way some hopeless alcoholics need a shot of Tequila; and (3) this ridiculous Irish tradition will allow her to take matters into her own hands - and propose to Jeremy.

Before you can say “Bitch, what the fuck are you doing?” our dear Anna has booked a flight to Dublin to hatch her hare-brained scheme of nabbing Jeremy via one seriously questionable folkloric loophole. But who am I to judge anyone else. If I actually thought I had a fucking chance in hell of getting James Franco to do the Civil Union thing with me, you better believe I would pull an “Anna Brady” and circle the next Leap Day on all the calendars I own - and even some that I don’t.

Unfortunately, Anna’s plan to surprise Jeremy in Dublin goes the way of the Betamax and HD-DVD (read: down the crapper) when her plane is diverted by weather to Cardiff, Wales - which might as well be Outer Mongolia for the sheer odds Anna faces in finding transport to Dublin. Fortunately, being a hot redhead does have its international rewards. Not long after she parks her shapely ass in a local pub does a local hottie named Declan (Matthew Goode) offer to drive her to Dublin - for the very reasonable price of… 600 euros. Well, I guess our boy Declan senses he’s got desperate wannabe-bride on his hands, and is just milking her what she’s worth. You know you’d do the same.

At any rate, I don’t have to tell you that Declan and Anna must have watched ROMANCING THE STONE and THE SURE THING at least a dozen times, because they do an uncanny job of mimicking the relentless bickering of those movies’ stars. When did it become a requirement for would-be lovers to claw each other’s eyes out before fucking each other’s brains out. Inquiring minds (and libidos) would like to know. Needless to say, they argue and snipe at each other all the way from Cardiff to Dublin. To be fair, if I was traveling with a prissy diva who wrecked my car, tossed my sandwich out the window, and generally pirouetted with ice skates on my last goddamned nerve, I think it’s safe to say I wouldn’t be Mr. Sunshine with her either. More like Mr. Bitch Slap. And I’m a gentleman by nature, so that’s saying something.

But what happens when Declan and Anna start to, well, warm to each other? Will Declan realize that Anna is a sweet, vulnerable girl under that Whiny She-Devil exterior? Will Anna realize that Declan is a sweet, vulnerable guy under that Cocky He-Man façade? Will they realize they are kind of compatible? Or will Anna fight their attraction and go on with her crazy-ass plan to propose to Jeremy? Will Declan let her do this? Or will he do the Cocky He-Man thing and spank her over his knee then rock her world?

God, I hope Declan doesn’t take this lying down. Or, actually, maybe I do. Ahem…


BUT, SERIOUSLY: The first time I saw LEAP YEAR, I thought it was an okay film, but didn’t particularly think it to be anything special. While Amy Adams and Matthew Goode are well-matched and engaging, the story and its beats are ones that we’ve seen far too many times before. Indeed, the only thing novel about LEAP YEAR upon first viewing is its intriguing “woman-gets-to-propose-to-her-man” premise which is apparently based on a true Irish custom.

But, sometimes, certain films - like certain people - kind of grow on you. Upon watching LEAP YEAR again, its charms became more obvious. Much like GREEN CARD (review # 295), this movie follows a mismatched couple as they slowly evolve from bickering adversaries to companionable chums, and then to reluctant would-be lovers. And just like GREEN CARD, this film knows its not really delivering anything ground-breakingly new, and instead contents itself with trying to entertain you as much as possible.

Amy Adams is the film’s strong center, and she easily carries this movie on her shoulders. She perfectly captures Anna Brady’s interesting combo of no-nonsense pragmatism and girlish innocence in a way that is totally seamless. She also manages to invest a little melancholy in the character. Watch for the scene where she dresses down Declan for his facile platitudes by telling him about her sad family history. It’s an unexpectedly poignant scene that effectively gives the character of Anna Brady some very welcome dimension.

Matthew Goode is just as formidable as Declan, and he nails both the character’s early crustiness and eventual thawing with equal precision. It doesn’t hurt that he and Adams have a nice rapport that keeps us engaged in their actions. As with his co-star, Goode manages to rise above the script’s formulaic contrivances to actually make us care whether or not Declan will get the girl. Ultimately, it’s no-brainer that Declan and Anna will get together at the end - but give credit to Goode and Adams for making their characters rounded enough to make us wonder.

The only reason LEAP YEAR doesn’t rate any higher than above-average (***) is because it kind of suffers from the LLT Syndrome - or “Lopsided Love Triangle Syndrome”. We’ve talked about this in previous reviews. Essentially, it’s when the third point of a cinematic love triangle is clearly unappealing and therefore doesn’t pose much of a threat. LEAP YEAR would’ve rated ***½ or higher if the writers had fleshed out Jeremy to be more than just a callow careerist who's primarily concerned with status and success. Adam Scott doesn’t really do anything special with the character. He’s competent - but nothing more. Had Jeremy been made to be more of an appealing choice, we might have had the suspense we saw in the triangles for MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING and SWEET HOME ALABAMA.

In the end, though, LEAP YEAR is as warm and pleasant as a familiar, old blanket. Clearly, this is a formula romantic comedy. Fortunately, the talents of Amy Adams and Matthew Goode, the lovely Irish countryside, and that intriguing real-life tradition, all combine to elevate this film above the average mark. It could’ve been more surprising, but it also could’ve been far more pedestrian.

UPCOMING REVIEWS FOR THE WEEK OF 4/18/11- 4/24/11

Hello, all..

In honor of a visiting Italian friend, I declare this week... Italian Movie Week! In case you haven't figured that out from the slide show earlier.

Ecco a voi e il vostro bel paese e popolo, Luca...

# 309 - OPERA (AKA: Dario Argento's Royally Fucked-Up Take On Gaston Leroux's Classic)

# 310 - CINEMA PARADISO (AKA: I Knew There Was Another Reason I Love Italy And The Movies!)

# 311 - LA FINESTRA DI FRONTE (AKA: If My Neighbor Looked Like Raoul Bova, My Ass Would Be Hanging Out That Finestra)

# 312 - SEI DONNE PER L'ASSASSINO (AKA: This Gives The Phrase "Dressed To Kill" A Whole New Meaning)

# 313 - GOMORRAH (AKA: Bella Napoli - Unless You Fuck With The Mafia, Then Its "Hella Napoli")

# 314 - DIVORZIA ALLA ITALIANO (AKA: As Italians, You People Should Know Better Than To Get Married)

# 315 - MALENA (AKA: Monica Belluci's Tits, Legs, Ass, and Smile)













Stock up on the pizza, vino, and the, um, sausage puttanesca. We sure as hell are going to...

REVIEW UPDATE: The Last Four Jelly Bean Grab Bag Flicks...

Hello, all...

Hope everyone had a lovely weekend. Still sore from doing the Burke Gilman yet again. But it's that nice kind of sore. Whatever you folks did this weekend, hopefully it was fun and made you see things differently.

At any rate, two things: (1) we are four reviews behind, but they should all be posted by Wednesday at the latest; and (2) I will be releasing the list of next week's films shortly. See the slide show below and guess the theme? Three clues: sun, sea, and Spumanti!

# 304 - APRIL FOOL’S DAY (1986)

APRIL FOOL’S DAY (1986 - HORROR / COMEDY) ***½ out of *****

(Call me old-fashioned, but my idea of an April Fool‘s Day joke doesn‘t involve severed heads. Wait. That was a fake head, right? Right?)



CAST: Ken Olandt, Amy Steel, Deborah Foreman, Clayton Rohner, Tom Wilson, Deborah Goodrich, Leah King Pinsent, Griffin O‘Neal, Jay Baker.

DIRECTOR: Fred Walton.

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and rather messy practical jokes mixed in with some serious shit - straight ahead…




The last time I went on an island vacation recently was to Orcas Island - but before I’d spent barely 12 hours there, I was rushing back to Seattle to catch the finale of the Seattle Sounders vs. Chicago Fire match that saw our visitors from the Midwest getting their collective asses spanked by our local heroes. Needless to say, it wasn’t much of a vacation, but having the Sounders trounce the Fire was more than worth it. Note to self: next time, plan around the soccer matches, dumbass.

But that’s nothing compared to what happens to the characters of our next review, the underrated and ahead-of-its-time horror comedy APRIL FOOL’S DAY. We have our standard group of horny, mischievous college students on Spring Break who head to what looks like the San Juans but not as pretty or welcoming. These islands are smaller and, well, more scary-looking. Does that stop our partying students, though? If you think so, then you have obviously never seen a slasher movie. Suffice it to say, the sketchy isolation of their destination actually seems to excite them even more.

Our motley crue is comprised of: (1) Muffy St. John (Deborah Foreman), nuclear-hot brunette who loves practical jokes as much as she loves sex; (2) Rob Ferris (Ken Olandt), nuclear-hot poor boy on a scholarship who wants to go to med school; (3) Kit Graham (Amy Steel), nuclear-hot blonde who loves Rob; (4) Chad Vyshinski (Clayton Rohner), preppy rich prick who waltzes around with a mid-80’s video camera that’s bigger than most portable refrigerators; (5) Nikki Brashears (Deborah Goodrich), nuclear-hot slutty chick who’s banging Chaz; (6) Arch Cummings (Tom Wilson), nuclear-hot jock who fully intends to live up to his surname several times during the weekend; (7) Skip St. John (Griffin O’Neal), nuclear-hot cousin of Muffy’s who seems to be majoring in alcohol consumption; (8) Nan Youngblood (Leah King Pinsent), nuclear-hot bookworm whose surname pretty much guarantees she won’t be needing a seat on the ferry back to the mainland; (9) Hal Edison (Jay Baker), somewhat-hot Brooks Brothers-type who’s got dead meat stamped on his forehead.

Anyhow, our group arrives on the island where the only building is the St. John mansion. As you can imagine with an inveterate practical joker like Muffy, they all pretty much get a not-so-welcoming barrage of the following: (1) exploding cigars, (2) collapsing chairs, (3) champagne glasses that leak, (4) faucets that spray right into your face, and my favorite: (5) whoopee cushions. Hey, look, I’m old-school, alright?

Fortunately for Muffy, she’s so hot that her friends don’t take these trinkets and stuff them down her throat. Which is exactly what would have happened if she’d been any less attractive. Unfortunately, before too long, the jokes start turning real. As in, they find: (1) Skip’s dead body in a boat, (2) Arch’s head in a well, and (3) Nan’s corpse floating nearby. Seems like someone else has shown up uninvited to Muffy’s private island party. This is pretty much the buzz-killer to end all buzz-killers

Who is the killer? And why is he (she?) targeting Muffy and her friends? Is it the ferryman who got horribly injured in one of their practical jokes? Has he come back for revenge? Or is it the local constable who wants to teach them a lesson? Or is it… one of them? Who will get off the island alive? And who will just, you know, get off?

Come on. We’re talking Spring Break vacation with a bunch of college kids. You know someone’s getting off.



BUT, SERIOUSLY: Way before SCREAM came out in 1996 and successfully combined scares and laughs to redefine and reinvigorate the Horror Genre, APRIL FOOL’S DAY came out in 1986 and tried to do something different with the Slasher Formula. Upping the humor quotient, lessening the gore, and shaping the characters better, this movie proved to be a breath of fresh air for the genre. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to save the Slasher Genre which was becoming increasingly moribund and finally petered out by the late 80’s - and stayed that way until SCREAM arrived.

APRIL FOOL’S DAY is not as self-referential or post-modern as SCREAM, but it has a lot of the same light humor that allows us to bond with the characters. The crew of people in this movie are all extremely likable despite their varied personalities. It helps that they are played by a cast of young performers who are several notches above the typical actor that appears in this type of film.

Deborah Foreman is a sexy hoot as the rich practical joker Muffy St. John, and is just ambiguous enough to make you wonder if she is a victim like the rest of her friends - or if she is the cold-blooded killer behind the whole thing. Amy Steel, an alumnus of FRIDAY THE 13th PART 2, makes a great heroine and show’s Kit’s smarts by being the one who unravels the mystery. Ken Olandt as Rob best exemplifies the All-American Boy Next Door, and proves to be a solid hero. Clayton Rohner and Deborah Goodrich as Chaz and Nikki make for an amusing “glama” couple, while Leah King Pinsent, Tom Wilson, Jay Baker, and Griffin O’Neal (the late son of Ryan O’Neal) all nail their very different characters to round out the colorful cast.

Indeed, the main reason APRIL FOOL’S DAY rises above the average, past above average, and lands in the good category, is because of its sharp cast and the very appealing characters they essay. So amiable is this crowd, that you actually root for all of them to figure out what’s going on and survive their weekend. That’s rare for a slasher film, which usually sees us praying for the characters to be knocked off as soon as possible.

On one last note, there is a very persistent rumor about a lost ending to APRIL FOOL’S DAY that adds another twenty minutes to the film. This longer ending is in the novelization of the film, which is based on the script, so there may be something to this rumor. If this is true, APRIL FOOL’S DAY would have been a much darker, and different film. As it is now, it’s the right blend of serious and funny. Perhaps that’s why the producers decided to nix that extra twenty minutes: they didn't want to mess with a good thing.

Bottom line: if you like SCREAM, you should appreciate APRIL FOOL’S DAY. It may not be as hip or glossy, but it sure is entertaining and enjoyable.

# 303 - GHOST (1990)

GHOST (1990 - ROMANCE / MYSTERY / DRAMA) ***½ out of *****

(What? No long-haired ghost chick hell-bent on revenge? Just Patrick Swayze in a burgundy shirt? I can live with that…)



CAST: Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore, Whoopi Goldberg, Tony Goldwyn, Rick Aviles.

DIRECTOR: Jerry Zucker

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and some rather handsome ghosts straight ahead….




In our last review for CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON (review # 302), we talked about how all that high-wire jumping, soaring, leaping, gliding, and bounding challenged some viewers’ ability to suspend their disbelief. Well, something tells me those very same viewers had absolutely no trouble buying Patrick Swayze as a ghost who comes back from the beyond to protect his lover played by Demi Moore in our latest review, GHOST. But, essentially, what we have here is exactly the same leaps in logic that many hurl against CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON.

For starters, if Sam Wheat (Swayze) is a ghost who can move through doors, then how come he doesn’t slide through the floor? If he has to concentrate all of his energies and emotions to be able to move something, shouldn’t he do the same to be able to stand on a solid surface? And what about Whoopi Goldberg’s medium character Oda Mae? If she can’t see Sam but only hear him, then how come we, the audience, see him? Are we psychic? And if ghosts can possess humans, then why doesn’t Sam possess someone and do the detective work himself instead of acting as The World’s Freakiest Sidekick?

I could go on and on… but whatever. All you need to know is that Sam is a NYC financial whiz with commitment issues (wow, novel concept) who is shot in a botched mugging one night after leaving an off-Broadway (way off-Broadway) show with his loving girlfriend Molly (Demi Moore). The mugger (Rick Aviles) asks for Sam’s wallet, and Sam, being an idiot, decides to roshambo him for it. You can guess where all this ends up: in the morgue - with Sam wearing a toe tag. At least his body, anyway.

His spirit is another matter. Wandering around downtown NYC like a tourist from Oklahoma, Sam is essentially caught between this world and the next. He finds out first-hand that it sucks to be a ghost because you can’t do the following anymore: (1) drink alcohol; (2) eat cheeseburgers; or (3) have sweaty sex with random acquaintances. There’s a reason why people fear death, folks, and it’s mainly because of the three preceding reasons. Trust me on that.

Anyhow, through a series of events that I’m not going to bother delineating, Sam begins to suspect that his murder was not a mugging-gone-bad, but rather an act of cold-blooded premeditation. It helps his cause immensely when he finds himself an ally in wacky faux medium Oda Mae Brown (Goldberg), who is more shocked than anyone else in the room that she can actually hear spirits when Sam starts yelling at her like they’ve been married for twenty years.

Before you know it, Sam and Oda Mae are playing Cagney and Lacey, except one of them has a penis. Well, not really, when you consider that Sam is now a ghost and can’t use it for anything worthwhile. Or even un-worthwhile, for that matter. Soon, they’re paying a visit to Molly, who is understandably perturbed that a chick who claims to be psychic has been having running dialogues (okay, more like running arguments) with her dead lover. What would you do? I sure as fuck wouldn’t have coffee with her. But I’m not Molly, who basically is told by Oda Mae that whoever killed Sam is now after her. And how was your week?

Will Molly believe Oda Mae? Will Sam be able to protect the love of his life? Or is she pretty much toast, too? What role does Sam’s best friend Carl (Tony Goldwyn) have in the whole mess? Is he friend? Or foe? And by the time Molly finds out which, will it be too late? Or will the 1,247th playing of “Unchained Melody” kill her first?

I’m betting on the latter. If I hear “Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch” one more fucking time, I’m going to walk up to the nearest person and punch them in the stomach.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: In our recent review for LEGALLY BLONDE (review # 298), we talked about how a film can sometimes have a potentially silly premise, but be redeemed and saved by a capable cast, director, and script. Once again, we run into that very same situation with GHOST. This movie could’ve easily been a ludicrous mess. Somehow, though, it manages to not only work, but also engage us emotionally. Indeed, this film grossed over $200 million in North America alone, and over $500 million worldwide by the end of 1990. Not bad for a film that everyone was sure would do so-so, at the very best.

Much of GHOST’s power lies with the performances of its leads Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore, and Whoopi Goldberg. Since we see nearly all of the story through Sam’s eyes, we need an actor playing him that we can feel a kinship to and be one with. Swayze’s empathetic performance allows this. He’s matched by Demi Moore, who’s probably one of the most beautiful “criers” in cinema history. The shot of her at the end, with tears pouring out of her eyes, as she says farewell to Sam for one last time is practically an iconic image. But Moore also refuses to make Molly just about vulnerability, and infuses the character with a spunkiness and fire that makes it clear she can take care of herself despite everything that has happened to her.

As good as Swayze and Moore are, though, the movie is nearly stolen from them by Whoopi Goldberg as the sketchy medium who discovers, quite by chance, just how gifted she really is. Goldberg delivers a comic turn that is both broad and specific at the same time, and gives the film a much-needed shot of humor to make up for some of its more somber tones. Say what you want, but Goldberg deserved the Oscar she won for the role that year.

In the end, you can do worse than GHOST for solid entertainment. As the tagline of the poster says, “believe.”