Starring: Tom Everett Scott, Liv Tyler & Tom Hanks
Directed by: Tom Hanks
So Mr Nice Guy turns his hand to both writing and directing, in this super nostalgic Mr Nice Film.
The plot, such as it is, involves the overnight formation of a Beatlesesque Pensylvania pop group, and their fantastically rapid rise to fame. That's it.
Where's the drama, you ask? The tension? The hero's predicament? Where indeed, and the lack of any of these should, by rights, hole the film beneath ther waterline from the off. But hey, it's so darned nice that it's pretty hard to dislike. Everyone's nice - even the normally reliable managers, record company bosses and - God help us - network TV show directors. Yet the harmless humour, unashamed nostalgia and some nice performances somehow see it through.
Nitpicking aside (the band always sound a bit too good to be convincing), the film's biggest weakness is the central character, who is not fleshed out enough to ever involve - either in performance or script. Hanks appears to know where to point the camera lens, but certainly shows shortcomings in the screenwriting department. What with all that endless picking up the annual acting oscar, maybe all he needed was more time and paper for the rewrites.
For many, of course, none of this will matter, as the ninety minutes floats by in a delirioius wave of Beatles harmonies and haircuts. And, dramatic weaknesses or not, if this sounds pretty much like that sort of thing you like to do, then I guess you'll be in hog heaven.
Starring Michelle Pfeiffer, Jessica Lange, Jason Robards, Jennifer Jason Leigh & Colin Firth
Directed by Jocelyn Moorhouse
Released here presumably to coincide with - and be an antidote for - the 1998 World Cup, this brings the moniker "Chick Flick" to a new level. But if the release is timed to provide soccer shelter, then this tale of three sisters and their drunk and abusive father won't give long-suffering wives and girlfriends much to smile about on their return home to a lager-littered two-up, two down.
Robards is a hard-working farmer and pillar of the local middle-America community, and on a whim, decides to divide the lucrative farm between his three daughters. When the youngest (Jason Leigh) stalls for thought, she is cut out of the deal, and this sets in motion a chain of events that lead to misery, trauma and depression for all concerned. Most seriously, with the help of angry cancer-victim Pfeiffer, it awakens in the eldest (Lange) some memories that she has buried very, very deep.
As the film's gentle pace unravels the story to this point, things seem to be heading in an interesting direction. However, there seems to be an agenda whereby the only emotion to present to the audience is bitterness. With the film's most likeable male character being an ineffectual weasel, you have only the downtrodden sisters to hold on to, and the effect is merely the feeling that you are being dragged down with them. Not feel good whimsy, then.
All that being said, the performances are as excellent as you'd expect from this A grade talented cast (even Firth sports both good performance and accent). The direction from Moorhouse never lets the gentle pace slow too far, but on the other hand she never manages to make the movie rise far about its TV-movie style genre.
Despite being based on a Pullitzer-prize winning novel, the film actually seems a little more plot than character driven, with a number of either felicitous or inconsistent developments arising from decisions the characters make. In a film which relies entirely on the people it features to draw you in, this is a fairly serious failing.
Starring:Kate Winslet, Leonardo di Caprio & Billy Zane
Directed by:James Cameron
Article - Titanic vs A Night To Remember.
He's only been and gone and done it. The film we all wanted to hate (and many still try) because it was a man's ego run riot is, in a word, brilliant. And James Cameron, the man who wrote, directed, co-produced and spent $200m on Titanic proves that, even more the Steven Speilberg, he is now captain of all the movie world.
An historical romance may seem like a strange departure for the master of sci-fi and action, but classic Cameron themes keep the ship afloat - misplaced faith in man and technology, and the equality-cum-supremacy of women hark back to Aliens and the Terminator series in particular. Our heroine Rose (Winslett) is set to marry supersnob bastard Zane and, trapped in a loveless and lifeless existence, she does the decent thing by hanging off the back of the ship, ready to jump. Enter Jack (Di Caprio), the poor boy full of dreams, who persuades her to stay her execution.
All of this is framed by the modern day Rose, telling her story to the divers scavenging the wreck. So we know from ten minutes in that, not only does the boat sink, but the hero survives. It's credit to Cameron's smart screenplay, populated by interesting characters, that one of the oldest love stories in the book not only holds your attention until things go belly up, but is almost enough on its own to make a decent movie.
The pacing of the enormously long film is astounding, proving that Cameron - more visually astonishing here than ever - is a damn fine storyteller. He is aided by strong performances by all the leads, most notably Di Caprio, who is naturally exuberant without being annoying. Winslet too makes her on-screen transition from spoiled brat to axe-weilding Cameron Babe very nicely.
While the film plumps for comic relief once or twice too often, could have done with a minor dialogue polish and lays on the syrup a tiny bit thick occasionally, these niggles pale next to the grand sweep. It is very, very powerful stuff. Appropriately, as things reach the awful crescendo, it really is almost too harrowing to watch. A responsible director such as Cameron would never have wished the true event portrayed any other way. The net effect is that it took 48 hours for this reviewer's normal sleep patterns to return.
Films this big don't come along every day, and when they do they're often a let down. Jump aboard this one, which lives up to the hype, as quick as you can and see it on the big screen - of all the things people may say on leaving the cinema, "it won't lose much on video" won't be one of them.
An instant classic. This will last as long as the movies do.
Starring Nicole Kidman, Matt Dillon and Illena Douglas
Directed by Gus Van Sant
The end of the cold war has had Hollywood desperately struggling for bad guys to portray. A recent upsurge in middle eastern terrorism - as witnessed in True Lies for example - does little to advance the cause of greater global understanding, so both Natural Born Killers and To Die For have settled on clever, politically correct victims - televison and the media.
But don't worry - despite the title and dreaded NBK comparisons this is no gore-fest, rather a very clever and funny black comedy. Suzanne Moretto wants fame bad. Really bad. Drawn to TV lights like a rabbit caught in main beam, she lands a job as weather-girl and general gofer at the local cable-TV station, throwing herself into the part with zeal so waring it grinds down the two owners in about two weeks flat. What she lacks in brains she more than makes up for in ambition, so when nice, straight hubby and familyman (Dillon)'s constant encouragement begins to get tinged with pragmatism, she concludes the only decent thing to be done is to enlist the help of the three poor and screwed up teenagers in her "issues" documentary in bumping him off.
This is itself told pseudo-documentary style - Kidman and several of the other cast members tell their stories to camera, and the various elements are expertly woven together by recently off-form director Gus Van Sant. Of the cast, Dillon's sharp and sceptical sister (Douglas) is quite sensational - by turns hilarious, insightful and moving in a natural performance that screams best supporting actress - but this takes nothing from the excellent teen newcomers and the others, headed of course by a blonde, American Kidman - here "on" form in her decidedly on-off career. Let's try to put My Life and Batman Forever behind us, why don't we.
On the down side, the film becomes perhaps a little too serious and heavy handed as it goes on, ill-sitting with the light and barbed tone of the film's first hour. A strong ending helps re-address the balance here though, so while not suggesting that you should kill to see this, you might at least want to push to the front of the queue. Worth a fiver of anyone's money.
Starring: Pierce Brosnan, Jonathan Pryce, Michelle Yeoh & Teri Hatcher
Directed by: Roger Spottiswoode
DVD review ****
Bond certainly never dies - where he should by rights be eschewing a shaken-not-stirred Martini for soup through a straw and fighting people off with a walking stick, he is still merrily killing all the men and shagging all the women like a pumped-up G.I. Joe in a bullet-proof tuxedo.
With the pensionable in mind, the film opens with Geoffrey Palmer, UK military general and Dame Judi Dench, M, bickering away in MI5, and for one cold-sweat-inducing moment you wonder whether you've slipped into As Time Goes By: The Movie by mistake. Well, it turns out that we're all on the tail of Carver (Pryce), a Murdochesque meglomanic media mogul who has evil designs on covering a third world war that he initiates for fairly unfathomable reasons. "You're qute mad", Bond observes. Carver grins, "the gap between madness and genius is measured only by success".
That's a pretty good line, but the beyond-groaning pun littered script isn't always so sharp. The cast too is more uneven here than in Goldeneye, with martial arts babe Yeoh splendid on the action, but iffy on the acting. So what, you splutter, and fair enough, but Goldeneye spoiled us for girls who both looked good and could deliver more than two sentances without the aid of autocue. So it's left to Brosnan and those stunts to carry the film, and they're both in fine fettle, with a couple of top notch sequences to add to the 007 canon.
Not quite reaching the dizzy heights of Goldeneye then, but nonetheless a perfectly respectable slice of rubbish which more than holds its own against the ever more tired bigger budget rivals. As Time Never Dies would have been a nice title, though...
Featuring the voices of: Tom Hanks and Tim Allen
Directed by: John Lasseter
It's a first, and first often means - not great. But Disney has produced, through the new and very hot Pixar studios, the worlds first computer animated feature with one big surprise. Hold on to your pixels, it's brilliant.
It's one of those oh-so-obviously simple ideas it must have been done before. Alan is a regular five year old kid, about to move house. His toys are like everybody's - in other words, they come to life the moment all humans leave the room - and are preparing for the big move, when his birthday heralds a mysterious newcomer. But Buzz Lightyear is no mere toy, he really is an amazing intergalactic warrior, and wows all the assembled collection of psychological screw-ups except Alan's favourite - Woody, the cowboy. His status as leader and "favourite toy" is now under threat...
Dash it all, it's charming, clever and very funny, another film to show up the sloppiness of many films purely for grown ups. Concept and effects will enrapture both the kids and adults, but not since the Princess Bride has a "childrens" film worked so well on a secondary level, with subtle double entendres, in jokes and remarkably sophisticated humour providing much meat in the Oscar nominated screenplay.
Director Lassiter has total command of the new medium and cleverly pitched his story at something that the technology can excel at. Just maybe the film would have been more timeless and perfect if he had told his story withut showing us the faces of any humans, still too complicated to convincingly portray. But with the help of some superb vocal performances, this remains - at eighty minutes - a gem.
Starring: Ewan McGregor, Robert Carlisle, Ewan Bremner, Jonny Lee Miler, Kevin McKidd and Kelly McDonald
Directed by: Danny Boyle
Blimey. This movie is a punch to the gut: an awesome assault on the senses and emotions that leaves you gasping for breath. Whether or not you like it, average it ain't - for better or worse, this is astonishing moviemaking, featuring possibly the best piece of directing in a British movie in the last fifteen years. It makes you laugh out loud, then shocks, disgusts and apalls you. Then it makes you laugh again, even though you don't want to.
One word hangs heavy over every frame - heroin. This is the tale of five Scottish addicts in the eightees, who are all aware that the drug does them no good, but cheerfully succumb to an experience "a thousand times better than the best orgasm you ever had". Immediately the movie makes the audience part of the story, asking if you fancy a go, or taunting you to go on and tut at the irresponsibility of it all. The film walks a tightrope of duty to humanity on the one hand and patronising the audience on the other - the "positive" effects of heroin are seen in the facial expresions and heard in the comments of the users, wheras everything else is nothing less than hell on earth.
But the genius of John Hodge's screenplay, adapted from Adrian Welsh's cult novel, is to show us these people in funny, bizzare - and often revolting - situations. They may be unsympathetic losers who represent the Scottish Tourist Board's worst nightmare, but you remain involved, if only in concern for the wellbeing of the characters just outside the camera frame - the "normal" people threatened by the repercussions of their habit. The kicker however, is Boyle's incredible direction, cracking the pace along so fast you can barely keep up. Over an excellent soundtrack he draws performances from the ensemble cast - led by our narrator McGregor - which are universally superb, with not a single word out of place or hollow. This walks over his previous and silly Shallow Grave.
Boyle taunts you for a reaction, and gets it - goodness knows how Channel 4 will ever be able to show their movie on TV with language and subject matter like this. Be warned - if you habitually stuff your face with popcorn and choccies at the multiplex, you must eat them at double speed during the trailers - you won't go near them after the first ten minutes of Trainspotting.
So why only four stars? The makers' insistence that they bring no moral perspective to the use of hard drugs is one which doesn't add up - if they consider the audience is able to conclude that heroin (or any other drug) is OK providing you know what you're letting yourself in for, you condone the right for the viewer to intimidate, steal and even murder in support of the habit, as shown graphically in the movie. Yes, this incitement to violence is unpatronising - it's called nihilism. Unavoidably, the movie does lead credence to support the argument that some, particlarly the disaffected younger generation at whom the film is perfectly targeted, may fancy a go. The sad reality is that only a very few changes could have reduced the danger. Despite the brilliance, the film's legacy may prove that trainspotting is as antisocial as we all suspected.
There's Something About Mary ****
Starring: Cameron Diaz, Ben Stiller, Matt Dillon & Lee Evans
Directed by: Bobby & Peter Farrelly
There's something about those Farrelly brothers. Unleashing themselves on an unsuspecting world with the hyper-crude Dumb and Dumber, this massive surprise US hit of the summer lives up to it's predecessor in the vulgarity stakes. But less obviously, while the earlier Carrey vehicle had a slightly tender heart underneath the toilet humour, this goes twice for There's Something About Mary - it's a most bizarre mix of the very sweet, and very sour.
Diaz (as anyone who has read any of my other reviews will know) is the movie world's most desirable female. At least all the men in this movie agree, especially poor Ben Stiller. Aged 16 and sporting a disastrous haircut, clothes and teeth braces, he steps in to protect her mentally handicapped brother, gaining her affection to the tune of a prom night date. Whilst picking her up however, one disaster leads to another ending in film history's most-painful-scene-for-any-male-to-watch. They lose touch, but he never forgets her. As indeed he wouldn't.
Goaded by a friend to track her down 12 years later using the services of a dodgy private investigator (Dillon), Stiller finds himself driving across the US to try and woo her before Dillon himself - now under her spell - or one of several other hangers-on get to her first.
There are other moments that are almost excruciatingly embarrassing to sit through (be careful who you watch this with), with some laugh-out-loud crudities, but it's the genuinely sweet natured story that holds things in place. The cast are all absolutely excellent, from weasely Brit-comic Evans through the ever-reliable Dillion and Diaz to the acting-career making performance of sometime-director Ben Stiller.
This is a curiosity to be sure, but a pretty funny and enjoyable one. And yes, there definitely is something about Mary.
Starring: Jim Carrey & Laura Linney
Directed by: Peter Weir
WARNING - It is absolutely VITAL that you do not know the plot of this film before seeing it.
Avoid trailers - close your eyes and stick your fingers in your ears. Web pages - surf at Newquay, not the official site. Posters - look the other way. Articles - read about Armageddon. All reviews - except this one which, I promise, will reveal nothing.
This is the only way you'll be able to let an amazing, audacious and masterful story unfold, from one of the most imaginative scripts of our times (Andrew "Leagues Better Than His Previous Gattaca" Nicoll). The jigsaw pieces of the plot puzzle are tantalisingly placed (so long as you don't know what the picture is, of course). Guaranteed that after 20 minutes you'll be as confused and irritated as hell, and after 40 your jaw on the floor.
The cast (including Carrey, playing the pseudo-straight man) are great, the ethereal direction from head-spin master Weir stunning and the running time is blissfully short. Film doesn't get much better than this, folks - think Oscars, and top tens of the decade - just don't let the marketing fools spoil it. The secret of this film should be kept firmly in the minds of the viewers; just let masterful storytellers do their stuff.
The Truth About Cats And Dogs *****
Starring:Uma Thurman, Janeanne Garofalo & Ben Chaplin
Directed by:Michael Lehman
Janeanne Garofalo is - says here - an ugly duckling. Is she by 'eck, but - hey, this is Hollywood - and if you don't look like Uma Thurman, then you may as well abandon all hope. But - hey, this is still Hollywood - hope springs eternal in the fine arty-but-nice shape of Brit Ben Chaplin, attracted by the dulcit tones, fast wit and brimming intellect which grace her local radio pet advice show.
When Ben meets the object of his invented desire, he mistakes the pet-vet for hey-this-is-Hollywood Uma Thurman, Garolfo's next door neighbour. As he charms the pants off both of them, the dynamic duo have to work out what he really wants - the Uma body, or the Janeanne woman.
Audrey Wells' splendid screenplay, like many great romantic comedies, asks one simple but always-good-for-a-row question. In this case - "Would that man love that beautiful woman if she wasn't beautiful?". All three leads are excellent - Thurman always good, Garofalo makes a superb leading debut and BBC2's morose Game On star Chaplin makes the part (clearly written for Hugh Grant) his own. Meanwhile director Lehman turns in his first unqualified success since Heathers, although you'd never believe that flashy debut had the same megaphone-weilder as this subdued film.
OK, there are a few Pets Win Prizes cheap laughs to be found, but this is merely the icing on the cake. Oooh errr, the cake itself is lovely. Tuck in.
Starring: Bruce Willis, Madeline Stowe & Brad Pitt
Directed by: Terry Gilliam
In the not too distant future, the world's population has shrunk to virtually zilch following a lethal, global virus. The few remaining people live in an underground world strangely reminiscent of Terry Gilliam's Brazil, and Bruce Willis is sent to the scary germ filled surface on a fact finding expedition, meeting lions prowling round skeletal skyscrapers in a ghost-ridden downtown Philidelphia.
Soon he's on to bigger things, and is dispatched back to 1990 in a wild time machine - the artistic opposite of a De Lorean - on a mission to discover the source of the cataclysmic outbreak. An understandably bewildered Willis is diagnosed insane immediately, sent down the asylum by shrink Stowe and shown around by Big Chief Unhinged, Brad Pitt. But he escapes solitary confinement back to the future, and alarm bells start ringing for Stowe - there seems to be more to Willis than meets the Parole Board.
Gilliam stamps his presence on every frame, from the in-your-face eye popping production design to the wild tilted camera angles. But it ain't all pretty pictures - the story is intriguing. Just who are the Army Of The Twelve Monkeys that appear to have started the whole thing, but of whom no-one has heard?
Willis is on form again, doing his disorientation to the full, Madeline Stowe nicely underplays her characteristic strong-yet-vulnerable turn, and Brad Pitt really goes against type as the very deranged rich kid. The tension mounts superbly as the many disparate plot strands and seemingly random images begin to form a terrifying, cohesive whole.
With underlying themes of paranoia and fear driving the narrative on, the film makes you work so hard in working things out that the conclusion seems, on first glance, a bit of a let down. Be that as it may, the film and story and beautifully crafted, there are some very memorable piccies which will probably pass into cinematic legend, top notch performances and a highly entertaining story which is governed by almost enough internal logic to make it stick. The King who made The Fisher King proves that he still has royal filmmaking blood in him.
Starring: Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton
Directed by: Jan De Bont
OK, so how do you make a film about tornadoes that isn't actually a documentary at heart? Hmmm... how about getting two storm chasers (obsessives who try to watch the swirly beasts close up) who are about to divorce. Then Helen Hunt could show Bill Paxton - for example - their collective dream machine, which releases hundreds of sensors to monitor how a tornado works, helping to forecast immenent blah, blah, blah. Such an adorable offspring may just be enough to send nearly-ex-hubby Bill screeming into the nearest 4x4, and join her in hunting down some serious wind.
Oh well, it's as reasonable hang-the-effects-together plot as any, I suppose, and just about manages to avoid Complete Story Tedium Syndrome - but at the po-faced expense of raucous laughter on several occasions. Paxton, Hunt and their renegade travelling circus ruffians are OK, and are pitted against Cary Elwes and his corporate sponsored scumbag rivals - we know they are bad because they all drive identical black vans. Great!
The many - and increasingly spectacular - effects are absolutely splendid, and form themselves into several distinct set-pieces. Very occasionally the film even sends itself up - when the dynamic duo seek refugee in a barn, they look up to see a ceiling covered in scythes, scimeters, knives and saws, all swaying dangerously. Laugh?!
Yes, it's a jumbo Coke and a dustbin full of salted time. The only way to get through this is to go somewhere with a digital sound system (awesome), sit at the front, gently slip your brain into neutral and get totally blown away.
All reviews / articles copyright Guy Rowland (1998).