Sissy Hankshaw is born with enormous thumbs that help her hitchhiking through the U.S. from a young age. She becomes a model in advertising, and her New York agent, "the Countess", sends ...
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A story of amour fou. Walt is madly in love/lust with a young illegal Mexican immigrant. However, the object of his unrequited affection doesn't even speak any English and finds Walt really... See full summary »
A talented but disenchanted high school student seeking more advanced instruction sneaks inside the ivy covered gates of nearby Brown University. Masquerading as a college student he is ... See full summary »
Yvonne de la Vega,
Lama Norbu comes to Seattle in search of the reincarnation of his dead teacher, Lama Dorje. His search leads him to young Jesse Conrad, Raju, a waif from Kathmandu, and an upper class ... See full summary »
Sissy Hankshaw is born with enormous thumbs that help her hitchhiking through the U.S. from a young age. She becomes a model in advertising, and her New York agent, "the Countess", sends her to his ranch in California to shoot a commercial, set against the background of mating whooping cranes. There, she befriends Bonanza Jellybean, one of the cowgirls at the beauty ranch. The cowgirls take command of the ranch from the Countess, and drug the cranes with peyote. The police besiege the ranch. Written by
Pieter van Scherpenberg <firstname.lastname@example.org>
The brown paper bag is the only thing civilized man has produced that does not seem out of place in nature. Crumpled into a wad of wrinkles like the fossilized brain of a dryad, blending with rock and vegetation as if it were a burrowing owl's doormat or a jackrabbit's underwear, a number eight kraft paper bag lay discarded in the Oregon hills and appeared to live where it lay. Once long ago, it had borne a package of buns and a jar of mustard to a kitchenette rendezvous with a fried hamburger....
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At the beginning, lot of stars rise in the sky. One, aside and slower than the others, writes the words "For River". [River Phoenix] See more »
We actually watched this twice in the theater because we could not believe how bad it was the first time. Maybe we'd missed something... nope, what's missing was missed from the beginning of preproduction. I actually went back to Robbin's novel to see if I could find the problem, and I discovered that what I thought was funny and exciting back in the day is now just so much disconnected and fuzzy-headed junk.
So, the initial problem with the film was deciding to do it at all, and the rest of the train wreck progressed from there. Absolutely nothing works - not a blessed thing. Some beautiful exterior photography gets steamrolled by random camera placement in interior shots. All of the actors look at least uncomfortable - Angie Dickenson looks positively mortified - except for Rain Phoenix, who gives the impression that she is too unaware to realize how awful her performance really is. The dialog is one, long, unwavering cringe. Scenes don't make sense from second to second, and the connections between them are nonexistent. And yet, the movie stumbles blindly on, convinced that it is saying something profound.
This is too bad to even be funny; it is simply excruciating. Gus Van Zant has done other good-to-great movies which I encourage you to see, and I'm happy he survived (and appears to have learned from) this mess.
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