|Index||7 reviews in total|
This movie is consisted of 3 parts: a shrink's home, the whore house and the wedding. The wedding part concentrates what this movie really wanted to tell to the audience. It is extremely philosophical and impressive movie not by naked women but the underlying idea about humanfs nature. The poem read at the wedding was very nice.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
Easily the worst movie of the 80s, but mesmerizing due to its incredible cast--excluding a twitching, geekish Craig Wasson--hopelessly marooned in a movie of so little depth, it might as well have taken place in a children's swimming pool. Too many artificial moments to name, all of them succeeding in characterizing its male characters as nothing less than lechs, dumbasses and brutes. But that doesn't stop director Peter Medak from indulging in scenes of squirm-inducing intimacy with the scumbags. Roy Scheider even engages in an unbelievable threesome with two prostitutes in front of a roomful of people, then later the trio dances to dixieland jazz(!). Blatant highlights of unintentional hilarity include Harvey Keitel telling Richard Jordan to shove coffee up his ass, a Treat Williams monologue about beating his date for eating his dessert in a restaurant, David Dukes chain-smoking and twitching non-stop for 90 minutes, and the movie's execrable soundtrack of some of the worst yuppie soft-jazz this side of a Dave Grusin concert series. When compared to similar, theatrical tales of male angst, the superior "Boys In The Band", "That Championship Season", or practically ANY Cassavetes film, this one stenches something awful.
A group of men in Berkley form a men's club. Former baseball star
Cavanaugh (Roy Scheider) is a hound dog cheating on his wife Sarah. He
brings his family-man friend Berkley professor Phillip (David Dukes)
into the group. Kramer (Richard Jordan) is a psychotherapist. Solly
Berliner (Harvey Keitel) is a real estate broker cheating on his wife.
Harold Canterbury (Frank Langella) is a senior partner in his law firm
and his wife left him after finding herself. Paul (Craig Wasson) is a
manager at an auto parts company. Terry (Treat Williams) is a single
doctor. Kramer's wife Nancy (Stockard Channing) comes home to find the
group trashing the place. She kicks the men out and they decide to go
to a high class gentlemen's club. The club is run by Jo with her
puppet. She introduces Harold to Teensy (Jennifer Jason Leigh).
The first half of the movie is a touchy feely inner-self of the Neanderthal man. Many of the men are various shades of the cave man. Then they go to the brothel and things get even weirder. It's insane and not in a good way. Unless you're itching to see Langella in crazy makeup.
It's not that the ideas in this movie are so dumb, it's just that they are so unambiguously presented. You actually notice the drama getting more subtle and complex when the brothel madam starts talking through a doll. It's too bad, because Roy Scheider really tries to make something of his part. He must have been holding his breath between takes because he has the expression of a man performing a field autopsy. Paul Schrader should re-write this lurid chewathon for Jimmy Smits. There's an actor who can spin gold out of lint.
Well, at least it's different. This was apparently one of those "art
house" type of films, as I cannot imagine anyone thinking it would be a
commercial success. I didn't find it terribly bad, but certainly not
very good, either. Direction, acting, photography were all OK. The
script was what it was, and I can't think of any way to do it
differently. One note for the ladies: there do exist a lot of guys who
are faithful to their wives. Who want to be, and are. These might not
be the best-looking ones, though. You make your choices, and you take
your chances. Interesting, the conception of what goes on in
high-dollar whorehouses. Having never been to one (in any price range)
I've always wondered.
This might be worth watching if you've nothing better to do (or watch)
This movie is a bizarre mess. Long before Frank Langella wanders into camera range in women's make-up with a cigar, the blathering causes you to lose interest. Bewildering. Mind-numbing. Avoid this movie like the plague unless you are planning a triple feature with Showgirls and Battlefield Earth.
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