Keith Gordon is a creative young man who films the oddball doings of his family and peers. "The Maestro" appears frequently to give him pointers on his techniques. It's almost a film about ... See full summary »
Jenny Nix, wife of eminent child psychologist Carter Nix, becomes increasingly concerned about her husband's seemingly obsessive concern over the upbringing of their daughter. Her own ... See full summary »
Brian De Palma
Filmed stageplay based on the ancient greek play The Bacchae written by Euripides. This play is performed by members of The Performance Group, an NYC experimental theater group who has made... See full summary »
A secret US agency behind the unscrupulous Childres gathers children with parapsychologic abilities and trains them to become killers in war situations. To rescue his son, who was officially declared dead after an arranged accident, the ex-CIA agent Peter investigates against Childres. Written by
Tom Zoerner <Tom.Zoerner@informatik.uni-erlangen.de>
Fortunately, De Palma's hyperbolic, visually compelling, science fiction occult espionage thriller moves so fast that the ludicrous dialog, indifferent performances, and Swiss cheese plot don't spoil the fun. The Fury starts from an interesting premise, but De Palma is clearly more interested in the spectacular set pieces than logic or characterization. The potentially most interesting character Robin is off screen for too long and instead we get low comedy relief with Mother Knuckles and the off duty cops in the Caddilac. Also, Gillian's mother and the students at the Paragon Institute seem to disappear. And where Sissy Spacek was touching as Carrie, Amy Irving and Andrew Stevens as psychic teens who unleash the fury are whiny and callow, and you don't really care about their fates. Though Douglas, Snodgress, Cassavetes and De Palma regular William Finley ( Raymond Dunwoodie) are always interesting, the rest of the cast is pretty bad. And a scene between Irving and Douglas on a bus is embarrassingly bad. Still, The Fury with its telepathic visions, its pulse pounding score by John Willams and Richard H. Kline's elegant deep focus cinematography is superior to junk like The Eyes of Laura Mars. De Palma pulls out all the stops and creates some spectacularly over-the-top scenes. Faults and all, The Fury is more entertaining, and less pretentious and derivative than most of De Palma's more recent efforts to say nothing of Dressed to Kill, Body Double, Obsession, Wise Guys, Carlito's Way, Raising Cain, and The Bonfire of the Vanities.
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