Ted, a stuffy white guy from Illinois working in sales for the Barcelona office of a US corporation, is paid an unexpected visit by his somewhat less stuffy cousin Fred, who is an officer ... See full summary »
Honest Plush Brannon is a con-man thrown out of the Barbary Coast in San Francisco in the 1880s and headed for the gold rush region of Nevada. He discovers a real mine which lead to several complications.
Roy Del Ruth
In an apartment on Manhattan a couple of friends from the New York upper-class meet almost every night to talk about social mobility, play bridge and discuss Fourier's socialism; the cynic Nick, the philosophical Charlie, party girl Sally and austenite Audrey. They are joined by Tom. His background is much simpler and he is critical of their way of life. But he finds a soul mate in Audrey, who without his knowledge falls in love with him. Written by
Whit Stillman started writing the script in the summer of 1984 and finished it in November of 1988. See more »
You can't listen to what your younger brother has to say. I can't think of anyone less an authority of female anatomy.
He can see... It's hideous.
No, it isn't. You're being very subjective. You know, there was a survey of girls your age some years ago and nearly all of them were convinced that either their behinds, or their noses, were grotesquely oversized. And there was no apparent correlation between this conviction and their actual size.
Really? They did a survey of that?
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I can say this film has staying power as I've seen it about half a dozen times in the 12 years since it came out; the most recent occasion was a week ago, and it still holds up, like a great play. It's all in the dialogue and acting: Stillman's idea of an action scene is someone opening a champagne bottle a little over-enthusiastically.
The characters are beautifully drawn, none of them perfect, none of them without some redeeming features. They seem very believable to an outsider from England. The dialogue is a never-ending delight, full of great one-liners, yes, but also some equally cherishable, marvellously pompous sermonising and theorising from these slightly preposterous yet strangely loveable people (particularly Charlie Black). It's not exactly a comedy, but I laughed out loud a lot more than I have in some films that have been trying desperately hard to make me titter.
For me the great mystery is this: whatever happened to this fine young cast?? Edward Clements has done virtually nothing since this film, ditto Carolyn Farina (apart from a small part in Age of Innocence); likewise Eigeman and Nichols, although the former seems to have racked up a few more credits, and the latter was in Boiler Room, although I didn't realise it was him until the credits rolled.
If you need action and plot, this film probably isn't for you. But anyone else can dive in and and enjoy a genuinely independent film that shows what can be done on limited resources. This film is worth more in my heart than the combined works of Joel Schumacher, Don Simpson and their tiresome, overblown ilk.
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