Movie
wonderland
Dead Ringers (1988)
Directed by David Cronenberg. Starring Jeremy Irons, Genevieve
Bujold
The peerless Cronenberg moves away from his cerebral body-part oozing
horror films to direct this intense, disturbing psychodrama about
twin gynaecologists and the ties that bind them. Beverly and Eliot
Mantle (Irons) are the toast of the gynaecological world, having
done pioneering research into new techniques in their chosen field.
But their success belies a bizarre filial relationship, wherein
everything is shared by the twins, from their apartment to their
emotions and insecurities to the women they get involved with.
This
delicate balance between the brothers is upset at the arrival of
a sex-obsessed actress Claire (Bujold) – who is catalyst for
the emotional liberation of one of the twins and through this, their
downfall. Suddenly Beverly realises this is something he doesn’t
want to share with his brother as he falls in love with Claire,
upsetting the equilibrium, and starting the downward spiral of the
twin brothers. There is much that can be said of this film, but
the biggest mention must go to the terrific Irons. Giving probably
the finest performance of his career, he plays both twins with subtlety,
understanding and humanity – both instantly recognisable from
the other in the way they behave, the tiniest mannerisms not going
to waste. This would all be of no use if not for the genius of Cronenberg,
who keeps the narrative firmly within the grip of the perverse emotional
roller coaster of his characters, with a use of impressionistic
imagery to underline the psychological and physical. Devastating,
unyielding and utterly exceptional.
O
Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)
Directed by Joel Coen. Starring George Clooney, John Turturro,
Tim Blake Nelson, Holly Hunter, John Goodman, Chris Thomas King,
Charles Durning
In this era of Coen brothers’ mishaps (who would have thought
that possible?) it is indeed refreshingly wonderful to hark back
to one of their classics, with all the hallmarks of a Coen brothers
flick intact. We know we’re in for something out of the ordinary
when the credits tell us that this Depression-era tale is ‘Based
on Homer’s Odyssey’. And that is exactly what we get
as Everett Ulysses McGill (a well-cast Clooney) escapes from a chain
gang, dragging two none-too-bright friends (the superb Turturro
and the wonderful Nelson) as he takes an often hilarious road trip
across America to return to his wife Penelope (Hunter), who is readying
to enter into a fresh marital contract. However, he has duped his
buddies into thinking he is returning to claim his booty and on
the way they encounter such unpredictable distractions as a manic-depressive
bank robber, the king of the delta blues Robert Johnson (with whose
help they record a hit single), a Bible-bashing Polyphemus (played
by the solid Goodman) and the Ku Klux Klan. All this to a terrific
soundtrack comprising America’s ‘lost heritage’
of bluegrass, country and gospel music tempered through a deep sense
of pixie-like mischief and the usual deviance from the stereotyped
norm. Delightful, terrific fun.
White
Hunter, Black Heart (1990)
Directed by Clint Eastwood. Starring Clint Eastwood,
Jeff Fahey, George Dzundza, Alun Armstrong, Mel Martin
Legendary director John Huston is rumoured to have taken his film
The African Queen (a Hollywood classic starring Humphrey Bogart
and Katherine Hepburn) on location to the Dark Continent just so
he could shoot an elephant. Based on Peter Viertel’s thinly
disguised fictional account of this, Eastwood the director fashions
a superlative character study of almost unrelenting human arrogance
and obstinacy as film director John Wilson – a man who will
let nothing and nobody stop his intentions, takes his crew to Africa,
but really wants to shoot an elephant. Strong characterisations,
a fluid pace, a tight script and an almost comic sense of high adventure
tempers this tale, as everything falls at the altar of Wilson’s
self-determination, arrogance and ego. Through this, Eastwood does
not let other issues fall by the wayside, with things like colonial
racism and even the plight of the elephant touched upon. Of the
performances, the iconic Eastwood’s charisma is put to good
use as he solidly navigates John Wilson through his African safari,
playing a man who does not lack the courage of his convictions,
but whose ego is too big and glosses over his most noble characteristics.
Fahey plays his foil, a screenwriter unwittingly dragged into the
situation as he journeys to Africa with Wilson to complete a script
for the new film. Easily one of Eastwood’s best films, both
as director and star.
Marci
X (2004)
Directed by Richard Benjamin. Starring Damon Wayans,
Lisa Kudrow, Richard Benjamin, Christine Baranski
Wayans and Kudrow star in this limp, lifeless
comedy centering around the profanity in hip-hop. Wayans is controversial
rapper Dr. $, whose new album (containing songs with dodgy titles
like “The Power in my Pants”) threatens to put record
label owner and conglomerate head Ben Feld (Benjamin) out of business.
His spoilt daughter Marci (Kudrow) decides to sanitise Dr. $ after
her father suffers a heart attack at the news that the state was
planning action to shut the record label and his business empire
down due to the man’s notorious raps, and chemistry (obviously)
builds between the two. The shallow script insults the intelligence
of even the least demanding of viewers and the power and influence
of rap music in offering a simplistic dissection of the language
of hip-hop culture even at its most crass, while lamely attempting
to navigate some semblance of a story and characters into the mix.
Not worth anyone’s while.
Wonderland
(2004)
Directed by James Cox. Starring Val Kilmer, Kate Bosworth,
Josh Lucas, Eric Bogosian, Lisa Kudrow, Dylan McDermott, Ted Levine
Rather interesting, if flawed look at the notorious Wonderland murders
of July 1, 1981, which involved porn king John Holmes (played here
by a rather irresolute Val Kilmer.) It is fairly obvious that the
screenwriters don’t have the goods on what really happened
and sadly fail in creating an interesting multi-layered hypothesis.
Crack addict Holmes - way past his glory days - is implicated in
a set of brutal gangland killings on Wonderland Avenue, with the
story emerging in a set of flashbacks with differing points of view.
Director Cox imbues his filmic narrative with an edgy, jagged feel
punctuated by a lot of classic rock, but that doesn’t disguise
the fact that none of the characters convince, and the narrative
is fragmented and dead. As a result, the style, with no substance
for it to support gives way to tedium quite soon, and we are just
left with a cinematic trip akin riding in the boot of a car twisting
through a maze of streets. Even the now overused Rashomon-style
flashbacks fail to convince. In one of its bonus points, the film
also stars a very unfriendly Lisa Kudrow as Holmes’ wife and
the very appealing Kate Bosworth as his girlfriend. Potentially
interesting but disappointing. |
