jmorris236 Reviews

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)

It Works!

[10/10 · 23 December 2007]

Although critics have been unanimous in their praise, many fans of the show have been quite harsh, chiefly for two reasons – the principals are not great singers, and the deletion of roughly 50% of the score. I am in neither camp, although either of these factors might heretofore have caused me to pronounce most film adaptations of almost any Broadway musical a failure. Instead, I am thrilled beyond my expectations, but might not have been, had I not had so much respect for Stephen Sondheim, who says that he is satisfied with the film, and I have followed him long enough to know he would not give praise to this project if he were not satisfied. I have listened carefully to Mr. Sondheim in recent interviews, and now understand why so many stage musicals transferred to celluloid don't work. Time passes very differently in a theatre than it does on film. What takes several minutes in a Broadway theatre (a full-blown production number) is apt to seem like a small eternity on screen. Therefore, the very thing that keeps most live theatre audiences clamoring for more is apt to make many movie audiences run screaming from the auditorium. Also, in real life, no one ever bursts into song during one of life's dramatic moments, and many moviegoers who are accustomed to a certain amount of reality therefore find musical films particularly hard to take. Thanks to some of the theories voiced by Mr. Sondheim in the past week or so, I finally understand why so many film musicals fall flat - the theatre and film are two entirely different mediums, with two entirely different audiences. Many theatre lovers, me included, would be happy to sit through a musical transferred to screen exactly as done on stage, but most movie audiences wouldn't.

Tim Burton has said that he has always been a fan of Sweeney Todd. As disappointing as it is for fans to accept how much of the score has been cut, it was probably even more agonizing for Mr. Burton to decide what to remove. The original ran over three hours, and at least 75% of the story was sung. The film runs only 117 minutes and, judging by the length of the soundtrack CD (72 minutes) easily 40% of the score has been removed, mostly the ensemble pieces. Mr. Burton apparently judged (probably correctly) that the choral numbers which worked so well on stage, and contained some of the wittiest lyrics, would be clunky and ponderous on film, and he made the difficult decision to let them go. This is likely to be the sorest point for many fans of the show. Had I not been paying careful attention to Mr. Sondheim's recent interviews, I may not have been able to get past that point myself.

But what has been excised is compensated for in Mr. Burton's sumptuous visuals and attention to detail. Although Sondheim made subtle changes to the lyrics, actually improving it, it's amazing how much of what is left of the score is faithful to the original. Though it's a tragedy, Sweeney Todd remains in essence a dark comedy, and many of Mr. Burton's finer touches, especially the staging of the musical numbers, have enhanced the story to the point where I hardly miss the deletions, and I am someone who has loved this piece in most of its previous renderings.

Although he has never been a particular favorite of mine, Johnny Depp is a revelation. Without detracting from previous interpreters of the role (especially Len Cariou and George Hearn), Mr. Depp's evocation of the character is so fully fleshed out, and so filled with genuine pathos and sympathy, that I was able to excuse the fact that he is not a seasoned vocalist. To reiterate, this is not Broadway, and there is no need for his voice to reach the back of the house. If anything, the fact that the principal characters are not great singers actually enhances the realistic feel of the film. It is also a pleasure to have Toby, Joanna and Anthony played by actors of the appropriate age, and hear accents that actually invoke pre-Victorian London.

But the real star (to me, anyway) is the score by Stephen Sondheim. I am not amazed that some feel that there are no "memorable songs" in the score. Good music should be subtle; the absence of "catchy tunes" that one will whistle on the way out of the theatre is only indicative to me of the high quality of the score. Anyone who is previously unfamiliar with Sweeney Todd who doesn't "get it" is urged to purchase the soundtrack (the version with the complete libretto included) and follow the words as the songs are sung. The first thing you will realize is (as with any Sondheim's works, whether they be in a film or the theatre) how incredibly witty and sophisticated his lyrics are; on first listen you are apt to miss most of his delicious wit. His use of the language, his clever rhymes, and above all, his intelligent, deft semantics will amaze anyone who cares to take the time to listen. There are reasons why so many consider Sondheim the foremost composer of the theatre, and so many intelligent theatergoers hang on his every word. But just as important as his words (and I have always admired Sondheim's ability to use words above all else that I treasure in the world of musical theatre), you will find, if you listen long and hard enough, that his delicate, subtle music will work its way into your heart and conscience as some of the most beautiful music ever composed. This is NOT top-forty pop music, the type that is so often mistaken for excellence in theatre these days. Sondheim writes genuine, heartfelt, real music. Once you open your heart and mind to Sondheim's glorious words and sumptuous airs, you may just become a fan for life.

Lightspeed (2006 TV Movie)

The Reviews That Said How Awful This Film Is...

[1/10 · 13 January 2007]

...didn't go far enough.

But nobody seemed to notice that Lee Majors, at 67, looks about 15 years older throughout, and has nothing to do but grimace and pretend to be in charge of an elite group of government agents called the ghost raiders, or some such silly nonsense.

I bought this at my local video store because I have thing for "super hero" movies. The fact that it was on-sale for $9, the same day it was released at $14, should have warned me.

Easily the poorest excuse for an action fantasy hero I've ever seen - it made The Fantastic Four look like Spiderman.

Dreadful. DO NOT waste your time or money.

Based on a True Story (2004)

Director's Vision Worked After All

[8/10 · 4 March 2006]

As documentaries go, I thought it was very enjoyable.

I saw it at a film festival last year; a friend of mine was one of the people interviewed for the picture. Afterwards, I met the director and asked him a lot of questions - he was gracious and very nice. He frankly told me that Al Pacino was contacted but declined to be in the film. Sidney Lumet did agree to appear, and was very interesting.

In a way, the film rather reminded me of Maximilian Schell's documentary on Marlene Dietrich - he tried to make a film about a famous subject, but she would not cooperate. So he filmed around her and wound up with an even more interesting documentary.

This director did the same. John Wojtowitz wanted $28,000 to appear in the film, but the director could only offer $10,000. Mr. Wojtowitz was not needed in the end anyway. The story behind Dog Day Afternoon was bizarre enough to warrant a documentary, but that wasn't the director's idea - he wanted to present the "true story" behind a films that was based on a "true story" - and wound up showing that no matter how true to the events the Hollywood version was, it really didn't represent the truth. John Wojtowitz was portrayed in the film as a likable person and something of a hero. He robbed a bank just to get money because he didn't want his boyfriend to die - his boyfriend had attempted suicide many times because he couldn't afford a sex change. In reality, Wojtowitz was a vulgar opportunist, a low-class loser, and more than a little greedy. The director made his movie, the truth came out, and the "Hollywood" version was shown up on a tiny little budget.

Brilliant.

Almost Normal (2005)

Brilliant Social Satire Hidden in Standard Gay Comedy

[8/10 · 19 November 2005]

This review contains extreme "spoilers". Some reviewers of this film have misinterpreted the writer's vision. Ostensibly a standard gay comedy, Almost Normal would be rather forgettable, if it wasn't also a social satire, designed to illustrate what it's like to be gay in a straight world. As satire, it succeeds very well, and in some ways as brilliantly as one could hope to expect. In spots, the plot is too confusing to produce the intended impact, but I give it an A for effort.

Brad is nice-looking, single, gay, on the cusp of his 40th birthday, and somewhat discontent. He ogles sports jocks when they're not looking, goes on dates with guys who are miles below his desirability level, and frequently argues with his best friend Julie, who is also his sister-in-law. At a party for his parents' 45th wedding anniversary, things have just about hit the boiling point. A reunion with his best high school buddy reminds him that his friend stopped talking to him when he came out. His mother still dreams that he'll find some nice girl, and as he remarks to Julie, sometimes he just wishes that he was "normal". Not that he dislikes being gay, but he is weary of being different from the heterosexuals that surrounded him. As a gay man, I found it easy to identify with this sentiment.

Events at the party annoy him so much that he gets drunk, even though he recently gave up alcohol. Seeking some fun, he slips out of the party and drives to a local gay cruising area, where he crashes his car into a tree. As we suspect (and our suspicions are confirmed much later in the film) much of the remainder of the film is a dream sequence that plays in his mind while he lies unconscious in a hospital. And what a dream! Brad dreams that when he wakes the next morning, something unexplainable has happened. He has traveled back in time to the 1970's, and is now an 18 year old high school student. But that's not all. He has gotten his wish to be "normal" because everyone in the world is gay! Except, of course, those outcasts who are emotionally and physically attracted to members of the opposite sex. Known pejoratively as "breeders" and "hole-punchers", heterosexuals in Brad's dream world are routinely ostracized, scorned and even "straight bashed". They are preached against, misunderstood, and subjected to extreme ignorance and isolation. Pardon my gloating, but as a gay man, I found this a most delicious and righteous turn-about on reality.

It was also highly satisfying to see a world where gay people are totally free, and stand proudly with their chosen partners before the entire world. In Brad's dream, there is no such thing as homophobia, and for a wonderful moment I allowed myself to be caught up in this glorious if absurd fantasy. Conversely, I can only imagine what it must be like for a straight person to absorb the basic premise of Brad's dream world – heterosexuals may find it strange, disjointing and probably fear-inducing. Homosexual propaganda? Yes! And highly effective.

A myriad of plot problems are resolved with witty or sometimes silly explanations. In his dream, Brad's parents have same-sex partners, but his father and mother begat him through a custom known as "birth partners" where best friends of opposite sexes have children solely to reproduce, although romance and sexual desire between the sexes is taboo and "disgusting".

Here's where Brad's dream gets dicey and somewhat confusing. Enter his sister-in-law, Julie. Although Brad has found his soul-mate, a basketball jock he had a crush on in High School in his "real" life, Brad slowly begins to realize that he is sexually attracted to Julie, and she to him. For a while, I was a bit uncomfortable with this plot twist, until I realized that the writer was cleverly engineering a take on the real-life terror, isolation, rejection and ultimate acceptance that virtually all gay people experience when they discover the truth of their own sexuality. Brad and Julie go to an underground "straight" bar, witness a violent "straight bashing" and ultimately attend their high school dance, where they demand acceptance. Many reviewers were confused by the dance scene. When Brad and Julie are denied permission to dance together ("We have to tolerate your kind, but we don't have to put up with your disgusting behavior") many of the on-looking gay couples (including some of the faculty) begin to dance with opposite sex partners, in a show of solidarity and tolerance. Some reviewers of this film thought that this signaled a reversal of Brad's fantasy dream, and that "everybody starts turning straight". Some even saw it as an argument that sexual orientation is a choice, but that's not what I got out of it – I saw it as a simple show of support for a persecuted minority.

The "gay reversal argument" has been used before, but not quite so effectively. In "Torch Song Trilogy", Harvey Fierstein begins an impassioned speech to his mother by saying, "Ma, imagine what it would be like if everyone around you was gay; every book, every magazine…" and Anne Bancroft, replies, "You're talking crazy!" Almost Normal expands this argument to its conclusion. Of course, no heterosexual can ever truly understand what it's like to be gay in a straight world. But in the end, I found much of this movie powerfully persuasive, and I wanted to round up all my straight friends and family and make them watch it. The final scenes reverted to standard gay comedy, but there was a nice romantic twist at the end I didn't see coming. That part I'll leave for you to discover, for I do recommend that you see it and decide for yourself. I left with a smile on my face and my head full of thought, and that's never a bad thing.

Parallel Sons (1995)

Wow!

[9/10 · 13 November 2005]

I never give a film 10 stars, as I have yet to see the perfect movie. But if ever a film deserved 9 stars, this is it.

The basic themes of this film are so subtle as to be almost imperceptible, and I will leave the individual to draw their own conclusions. Arguably, its primary message may be a simple morality tale on the consequences of both internal and external homophobia, but, like any good film, there are other lessons and conclusions to be drawn, depending upon the viewer's own opinions and experience. The script is extremely lean, and although we are presented with enough information to make the plot crystal clear, I was thankful to the end that it avoided the clutter of too many details. The characters are drawn so skillfully, and the story told so plainly, that I was amazed at the amount of story, drama and conflict that the filmmaker was able to squeeze into 93 minutes of screen time. By the end, I was exhausted, exhilarated, outraged, moved and thoroughly satisfied. I had to think about what it all meant, but after replaying the film in my head after it was over, I sat back completely astonished at the talent of all involved in this extraordinary film.

Many of the scenes depicted in this movie would have been totally unbelievable in the hands of less skilled filmmakers. Too often films that credit both writing and directing to the same person wind up as a narrow opinion piece or worse; the sharing of both writing and directing duties frequently signifies an amateur production. Even if well produced, the result all too often comes off at best as a narcissistic indulgence. Occasionally, a film is enriched by one person assuming the dual role of screenwriter and director, as any film can indeed benefit greatly from having a director who wholly appreciates the writer's vision. Happily, this is the case with Parallel Sons. Many times during the unfolding of the story, I caught myself musing at how ridiculous many plot points were, and at the same time, marveling at the utter believability of it all. It is also easy to misinterpret the climax as standard melodrama; it took a minute for me to realize that the tragic ending had more to do with intent than accident, and it was almost as an after thought that I managed to reconcile seemingly unimportant revelations from one key scene with the shattering climax. Suddenly the meaning of the title became clear, and my satisfaction with this gripping piece was complete. There is the danger that many will be unable to appreciate this timely and innovative story, but those who do are in for a thought provoking experience.

If I have one quibble with this picture, it was not with the film itself, but the DVD packaging. Once again we have a film that is being marketed aggressively to a gay male audience, and once again the distributors have found it necessary to place a photo of a naked muscular torso on the box, as if gay men could not consider purchasing a film for its dramatic intensity unless it also offers a naked hunk or two. In Parallel Sons, it's absurd; there is no one in this film who remotely resembles the beefcake on the cover. I didn't expect that there would be, and having read reviews and a synopsis of the plot before I bought it, I had no expectations of any erotic content. One more time I would like to point out that I buy comedies to laugh and documentaries to learn and dramas to be emotionally and intellectually stimulated. It's an insult to assume that I would not purchase a film in any of these genres unless it included a generous helping of eye candy.

Happy Endings (2005)

Nice Little Diversion

[8/10 · 12 November 2005]

Having tremendously enjoyed Don Roos' previous effort, the Opposite of Sex, I snapped up Happy Endings upon release of the DVD without knowing anything about it. Many of my friends didn't like the Opposite of Sex; when I asked them why, each confessed a dislike of Lisa Kudrow. When I noticed she was also in the cast of Happy Endings, and in fact plays one of the main characters, I figured I'd better shut up about mentioning my latest acquisition to some of those friends until I had a chance to watch it. Watch it I did, and I have nothing but good things to report. Like the Opposite of Sex, Happy Endings revolves around several gay and straight characters, with enough attention paid to both, thus ensuring that the film could appeal to a mixed audience. There is where all similarities end. While Opposite of Sex had a relatively up-front and focused plot, Happy Endings manages to juggle several plots and subplots all at once. Each of the characters lives touch other characters lives in a style not unlike that of director Robert Altman. In fact, I kept thinking that the pacing and juggling of the subplots was somewhat similar to Short Cuts, or even Crash (in the way that Crash was also compared to Altman's style). Keeping everyone sorted out in my mind became something of a chore, but I generally like films that make you think and keep you on your toes. There were one or two surprises, including several totally unexpected plot twists, and that's always good too. As a comedy I didn't laugh so much as I smiled, and I asked myself more than once, "I wonder what will happen next". As the end credits were rolling I decided I enjoyed my visit with these people, and could easily have managed to sit though even more. How often do you hear that about a movie that runs over two hours?

The cast, which includes Tom Arnold, Jason Ritter and Jesse Bradford give even and professional performances throughout. It worked in a way that good ensemble pieces always work; that is, it would be difficult to single out any one member of the cast, as they worked off each other in such a way that no one could expect all the notices. Another good thing, in my book. I am definitely going to suggest to my friends that they give Don Roos another shot, Lisa Kudrow and all. I can certainly think of worse ways to spend a couple of hours.

Lenny (1974)

Unfortunately Not Funny

[4/10 · 11 November 2005]

My first exposure to the world of Lenny Bruce was the Broadway show, Lenny. The film is (loosely) based on the play, which rather faithfully followed the life of Lenny Bruce (more or less) and told his story using entirely his own words. In the stage version, Lenny was played by Cliff Gorman, whose best known role was that of the wildly effeminate character Emory in both the film and original stage productions of Mart Crowley's play the Boys in the Band. At the time, I ran out and purchased everything I could find on Lenny Bruce, because Cliff Gorman was that funny. I laughed so hard in the theatre, I thought I'd die, and had trouble deciding what was more important, Lenny Bruce's status as one of the funniest comedians around, or the amazing social commentary that was contained in his routines. At the time, I remember thinking that Lenny Bruce was more of a philosopher or even a potential cult religious leader than a comedian. He had a knack of exposing hypocrisy, be it in politics, organized religion, race relations or whatever. I was convinced, at the tender age of 18, that Lenny Bruce had the keys, if not the answers, to all of the world's problems.

I went out and purchased the cast album of the Broadway show, which consisted of a 2 LP recording of a complete live performance of the play. I spent hours comparing Cliff Gorman to the real Lenny Bruce, and each time I listened to either, I memorized one of Lenny's hysterically funny bits. When I listened to records of the real Lenny Bruce, I marveled at how perfectly Cliff Gorman had reproduced his persona. The rapid-fire delivery, the inflection, even the tonal quality of his voice and the exact pauses in his speech were there. It was like Lenny Bruce had been reincarnated as Cliff Gorman. I had trouble deciding if this was great acting or just a good impersonation, and in the end decided it didn't matter, for the material in Lenny seemed to capture the real Lenny Bruce. That was good enough for me.

When the film was announced, and I'd heard that Dustin Hoffman had been chosen to play Lenny, I was thrilled. As a fan of Mr. Hoffman, I was sure he could do great justice to both the man and the material. By the time the picture was completed, I had learned almost as much about Lenny Bruce's life as I ever would, and was familiar with probably 80% of his most famous routines. The Masked Man, Christ and Moses, Las Vegas Tits and Ass, Airplane Glue, Ike and Nixon, Jackie Kennedy – I knew a lot of these by heart. Some of them I memorized cold, and found that when people mentioned his name at parties or family gatherings, and someone invariably asked who he was, rather than explain his life or what he died of, all I had to do was recite one of his bits. I never had a single person who was new to his material that didn't pronounce him awesome (as the kids say nowadays) on the spot.

I don't remember what film I was watching (it was 31 years ago) when I first saw a trailer for the film, but as soon as I saw a clip of Dustin Hoffman as Lenny I knew something was wrong. I had a sinking feeling that I wasn't going to like the movie bio of what was now my favorite comedian, but I went to see it anyway, as soon as it opened, hoping my gut instinct was wrong. The cinematography was stunning. The direction was first rate. The story was fairly faithful to the life and spirit of Lenny Bruce, and Dustin Hoffman did as good an acting job as I'd ever seen. All of the bits were there, and so was a fairly faithful rendering of his professional life. So what was the problem? The problem was simply that Dustin wasn't funny. Those were Lenny Bruce's words and Lenny Bruce's life, but the jokes fell flat. I came to the conclusion that no matter how skilled he is as an actor, Dustin Hoffman is no comedian. He certainly was no Lenny Bruce. Where was the lightning timing I was used to from the Cliff Gorman and Lenny Bruce recordings? Mr. Hoffman seemed very unsure of his material, and delivered all the routines at what seemed like half-speed. It was almost like he was a 45 RPM record being played at 33 1/3. I wanted to reach into his mouth and pull the words out, and shout at the screen, "You've got it all wrong! This is too somber and too slow and too…unfunny to be Lenny Bruce". Worse, Mr. Hoffman had the annoying habit (which Lenny never did) of laughing at his own jokes. Not loud guffaws mind you, just chuckles. Constant chuckles, almost to himself, which left me with the impression that he thought that he was the only one who got the material.

I bought the VHS when it came out several years later and watched it faithfully, hoping that as an older and wiser person, maybe I would find things in Mr. Hoffman's performance that I missed in 1974. I wanted it to click. No such luck. I then dutifully purchased the DVD, as I have always purchased "new" Lenny Bruce recording or, lately videos, never tiring of his delivery or his message. Again, I hoped that time had been kind to the portrayal I had so looked forward to in 1974. But I screened it recently, and the film still leaves me cold, despite the best of intentions, the flawless direction and the great production values. Icon, philosopher, cult leader or genius, if nothing else, Lenny Bruce was funny. And Dustin Hoffman was not.

Zona Rosa (2005)

Surprisingly Tame Portrait of Extremely Hot Men

[5/10 · 10 November 2005]

I don't buy movies for their prurient value. My DVD collection boasts maybe five porno titles. But I have a thing for Latin men and something in the promos made this film sound sexy and titillating. I must confess that's why I purchased it. Oops – disappointment time. The film consists of interviews with male strippers in the "Zona Rosa" section of Mexico City; the most in-depth is with an extremely handsome and pleasant but rather ordinary (in terms of lifestyle) hunk by the name of Christian Miranda. We meet his family - his son, his niece, his dog and his extremely open-minded mother, who says she prefers that her son would strip in a club that is "a little less wild" than the gay place where he currently works, but also says she never argues with his choices. Christian goes out of his way to let us know that he's straight, but, like all the other strippers in this film, he doesn't seem at all judgmental of his "gay clientele". That was surprising, because most of the dancers also emphasize how religious they are, and there is some discussion over whether or not they should pray at the statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe before they start their evening's dancing! Some thought it disrespectful to the Virgin to pray before showing off their privates, and others thought that they should seek a blessing before starting work, just like they would in any other job. Christian mentions that Saint Jude is his favorite saint. As you can imagine, this got real boring real fast.

Part of the problem was the promos, which promised "young men who ply their flesh working at the numerous and quite popular nightclubs of Zona Rosa". From the phrase "ply their flesh" I assumed that there might be some juicy tales of male prostitution, or at least some good hints on where to spend my next Mexican vacation. No such luck - virtually every interviewee stressed that they were dancers ONLY, and would not dream of hustling to supplement their income. Interestingly enough, they all criticized "some of the others" who do hustle, but none of the dancers would admit that prostitution was a part of his own experience. For a 60 minute film, too much time was spent on filler between interviews – we get slide-shows of scenic Mexico City while a Mariachi singer drones endless verses of Cielito Lindo – several times. There is a fairly boring interview with an entertainer / drag queen who manages the club, although when he relates how he got his start as a cabaret singer, we get a few minutes of him on a microphone showing off a surprisingly pleasant voice.

There is also a brief interview with a gay activist, who relates a two-minute version of Mexico City gay history. "We had our first Gay Pride parade in 1979, but the first time we all got together was in 1978, for the 10th anniversary celebration of the Massacre of Tlatelolco". Whatever the Massacre of Tlatelolco was, he didn't get to it. I guess the filmmaker was too anxious to get back to the religious convictions of the strippers and the cozy portraits of their families. The director made a few efforts to draw the dancers out on some titillating details, but his attempts usually went awry. "What's the strangest story you have about doing private shows?" (All the dancers do private shows for parties and even individuals, but insist there is no sex involved). "Well, the strangest is the (straight) couples who want a private show to spice up their marriage; the women will touch me while the husbands watch, or sometimes even the husbands touch me – but I understand that they've been together many years, so it's not really so strange". The club scenes include a "big banana contest" where contestants come out and display their erect penises while a woman from the audience measures them. The winner gets 2,500 pesos. Christian, our main guide to this sordid world (slightly more sordid than a DAR convention, anyway) disapproves of this contest, "What is this world coming to?" he asks. Speaking of women, did I mention that equal if not more camera time is devoted to the straight female patrons over the gay male clientele? I assumed this was to make the strippers – who never tire of telling us that they're straight – more comfortable. One does say that he prefers the gay customers, as the straight women are more prone to inappropriate touching, but the gay men are more respectful.

At the climax of the film, we return one year later to the main interviewee, Christian, who has left the gay club and is now working at a strip club for woman. He introduces us to his new friend, an extra handsome muscular stud who is learning the business from him, and, with straight faces – and I mean straight faces – they praise each others bodies and talk about how having a nice ass is essential to attracting women. As a result, the last five minutes of this film seemed like it would never end. We then get a captioned postscript lamenting that the police have cracked down on Zona Rosa since the film's completion, and 60 clubs were closed during a two month period in 2001. Based on the scandalous goings-on shown in this film, it would appear that Mexico City really didn't lose much. In fairness, I must say that the dancers were all very handsome and quite nice to look at. And if they were totally straight, I suppose they could have been much more obnoxious about it. The DVD extras include 40 minutes of complete dance sequences (with full frontal nudity) plus the complete banana contest. But after all that talk about praying to the Virgin of Guadalupe, I was no longer in the mood.

A Delicate Balance (1973)

A Piece of Genius

[8/10 · 9 November 2005]

I saw this film in 1973 and loved it so much that I ran out and purchased the soundtrack – yes, there was a soundtrack released. It came in a three-record boxed set, and it included every single word of the screenplay. I then bought a copy of the play (which was slightly different from the screenplay) and read it and listened to the record until I had memorized a good deal of the dialogue. You see, I love the English language, and there are few things more joyful to me than encountering a book, play or movie that uses language in clever ways. This is why I am a great fan of Broadway lyricist Stephen Sondheim, Screenwriter James Goldman (who wrote Lion in Winter) and Simon Gray (who wrote Butley, and whose use of the language rivals Albee's here). And, of course, the plays of Edward Albee. Mr. Albee uses language in ways that few others can. For some reason I don't understand, few people can seem to mention A Delicate Balance without referring to a certain play that Mr. Albee's also wrote, which was far more sensational and extremely successful.And that's a real pity, for this work stands quite well on its own.

Tobias and Agnes are an upper-class couple nearing retirement in their comfortable Connecticut home. Their best friends, Harry and Edna, arrive for a visit one evening, driven from their home by an unnamed terror. Albee's play clearly spells out what the terror is, without attaching a precise name to it – it's the fear of growing older in an uncertain world, rather like the main theme (which many people missed) in James Goldman and Stephen Sondheim's brilliant musical, Follies. Of course, Tobias and Agnes must take their dear friends in, thus threatening the "delicate balance" that holds their routines together. What follows is a careful dissection of the obligations of friendship, the meaning of loyalty, the responsibility of family and the appearance and practical application of "proper" etiquette. All in all, Mr. Albee takes on quite a bit.

Added to the fray is Claire, Agnes' alcoholic sister (who doesn't seem to drink any more or less than the other characters in the piece, who are always mixing each other cocktails) and their daughter, Julia, who is coming home from her fourth failed marriage. Harry and Edna have taken over Julia's room, and she doesn't like it at all.

Yes, the story moves very slowly, but I was glad that it did – it takes time and patience to absorb Albee's delicious wit, and even the very intelligent will find the language difficult to follow in parts. The film generally requires more than one viewing to ingest, but lovers of good drama will find their patience rewarded. I had the good fortune to also see the 1996 Broadway production with Rosemary Harris and Elaine Stritch as Agnes and Claire, respectively. That production did benefit from a slightly increased pace, but, on the whole, I find I still like to savor the drawn out lazy unwinding of this most articulate film.

200 American (2003)

A Cute Surprise

[6/10 · 7 November 2005]

The premise sounded cute, and I do have a penchant for comedy, so I purchased this film assuming that it would be a typical independent gay video. In other words, I expected it to be poorly acted, poorly directed and have a marginal plot used as a barely justified excuse to show lots of beefcake. Surprise! Although there were certain aspects of the plot that I found ridiculous (the main one being the idea that the rich, handsome, muscular, intelligent advertising exec would hire a relatively skinny immature male hustler and then fall in love with him) the picture managed to grab my attention fairly early on and hold it. The main problem for me was that I personally found the hustler to be the least sexually appealing of the three main characters. Since the ad exec (to my taste) was ten times better looking than the hustler he lusts after, I didn't buy it for a second. However, I was pleased by the fact that the film didn't seem to pander to viewers only interested in seeing naked torsos, and the humor came across as genuine and, in spots, quite clever. As the film progressed, I found myself warming to the characters, and their situations suddenly seemed almost believable. In the end, I decided I liked this movie quite a bit more than I thought I would. You may too, as long as you don't expect too much more than a pleasant romantic diversion.

All the Rage (1997)

A Satire With No Punch

[1/10 · 7 November 2005]

I wanted to like this movie. I ordered the DVD hoping it was a controversial satire on the superficiality of the gay ghetto, as promised. What I got was a mildly amusing comedy, with nowhere near as much punch as I expected from the premise.

There were problems immediately. Although he has a perfect body, John-Michael Lander as Christopher portrays a character who is so unlikable, it's not possible to warm to him at all, let alone develop an interest in what happens to him as the plot progresses. Some may find him irresistibly attractive, but frankly I wouldn't have given him a second glance no matter how much he masked what a creep he is – perfect abs and all. A bigger problem to me was the character played by David Vincent. The film's premise – the brunt of the "hard-hitting satire" - is the fact that Christopher's boyfriend is supposed to be the opposite of what we've been "conditioned" to find attractive because (gasp!) he doesn't work out in a gym and actually has love handles (horrors!). He also doesn't have a glamorous job (I mean, really, who knows any gay men like that?) and – now here's the most shocking thing I could imagine in a satire on gay values – he sleeps in PAJAMAS! Now I know a few guys in Chelsea who might find this impossible to believe, but despite the love handles and the pajamas, the "out-of-shape, chunky, under-employed geek" turns out to be the most attractive man in the whole film. Somehow I think that some of the people this film was intended for won't quite get that.

I liked what this picture was trying to say – Christopher is shallow, superficial, vain and annoying, and more or less gets what he deserves in the end. It's not his promiscuity that bothers us, but the way he treats his conquests, refusing to ever have a second date, and finding the most ridiculous faults imaginable in each potential suitor. But the telling of the tale just isn't very interesting, or very funny, and if they really wanted to make it a satire, it should have been far more merciless to maintain my interest.

Maybe I'm just old enough to remember when gay men didn't spend all their time in a gym, staring at the mirror to confirm their own beauty. I seem to recall that when I first came out in the early 70's, gym bunnies were few and far between in the gay male community. In those days, you were either skinny, fat or average, and if people judged you by your looks, it was solely on the basis of whether or not you had a pretty face. The main things we used back then to attract people were wit, charm, personality and intelligence, along with keeping ourselves reasonably well groomed. Now all I hear and see everywhere is stats, stats and more stats – numbers for waists, chests, arms, and thighs, together with demands that everyone have a perfect body, perfect clothes and a perfect career, or forget it. I was hoping that this film might raise some serious objections to such values, but when the final credits were rolling I felt I hadn't really seen or heard very much to either provoke meaningful discussion or challenge these attitudes, which is what I expect a good satire to do. Some may find it quite enjoyable, and feel it delivers on its promises, but I was less than satisfied when it was over.

Sleepers (1996)

Homophobic Garbage

[1/10 · 7 November 2005]

Before I begin, let me state that in no way do I condone child abuse nor do I excuse adults who sexually victimize children. But neither do I condone vigilante-style justice. This author of the book and the makers of this film seem to be of the opinion that sexual predators deserve to die a violent death, and that their killers should be allowed to get away with it. The picture disturbed me greatly for its lack of a sense of true justice, as well as the cheap exploitation and ignorance that the script espoused. I couldn't have been more shocked if this film had condoned mob lynching, genocide, serial killing – or child abuse, for that matter. Morally wrong is morally wrong, and the defense of vigilantism is morally wrong.

Some people continue to insist that this film is based on a "true story" even though the author has never presented credible evidence that it's based on fact. Some have suggested that this was a matter of publicity seeking, but I believe that his insistence that it's based on truth is merely a way of lending its unbelievable plot line more credibility. In this film, Kevin Bacon plays a low-life security guard in a Catholic reform school. He and two other guards routinely victimize and intimidate their young charges, forcing themselves on teenage boys in horrendous acts of sexual abuse. Years later, one of their victims spots the Kevin Bacon character in a restaurant and shoots him dead in cold blood. Unfortunately, there's nothing unbelievable about the plot up to this point. Child abusers do exist, and people do kill for revenge. It's what follows next that is so incredible.

The murder is followed by a cover-up at all levels to protect the murderer. We are asked to believe that, in order to exonerate a killer – a GUILTY killer - a Catholic priest would lie under oath and a prosecutor would throw a capitol murder case, all on the basis of the idea that the "fag" child molester got what was coming to him. Of course, most well-read and enlightened people know that sexual predators who victimize children are almost always heterosexual. And although there is no indication in the film that the Kevin Bacon character is homosexual, many people (probably a majority of people in the US) still wrongly believe that most gay men are child abusers and most child abusers are gay. I believe that this homophobic reasoning underlies the author's conviction that the murderer is justified in his actions; this opinion is further underscored by the fact that the mood of the film when the killer is acquitted is nothing less than celebratory. I also believe that it's one reason why so many people think that a movie in which someone literally gets away with murder is a "great" film.

For me, this picture was bad in a dozen different ways that I found offensive – the storyline reflects bad logic, bad judgment, bad justice, bad morals, bad lessons and bad drama. All combined, this film annoyed me from the first scene forward. The conclusion that murder can be justified struck me as absolutely barbarian, and I was flabbergasted at the fact that such a distinguished group of fine actors would lend their skills to this bigoted, puerile garbage. The more I watched, the more I got the impression that this film, and the book it was based on, was created only to please homophobic adolescents. If you are the sort of ignorant Neanderthal who would think it's OK to commit murder as long as you're blowing away a "sexual deviate", then this film is for you. If you further believe that murder in the name of revenge is not only defensible but perfectly just, then you will find this film rewarding.

With all the talk in the news these days about sex abuse victims coming forward to accuse their tormentors, I would have liked this film much more if the boys had simply banded together and accused Bacon and the other guards of the abuse, bringing charges in adulthood for what they suffered as adolescents. Surely if real life victims of sexual abuse by Catholic priests can find relief though genuine legal means and have their accusations believed (as so many have done) why not the teens depicted here? A far more satisfying ending would have been for Kevin Bacon (and his cohorts, who escaped any retribution at all, including the vigilante killing) to receive exposure and proper legal punishment.

Ben & Arthur (2002)

The Worst Film I've Ever Seen

[1/10 · 6 November 2005]

Intrigued by the synopsis (every gay video these days has a hunk on the cover; this is not necessarily to be construed as a good sign) I purchased BEN AND ARTHUR without knowing a thing about it. This is my second (and I assure you it will be my last) purchase of a CULTURE Q CONNECTION video. As far as I am concerned, this DVD is nothing but a blatant rip-off. I do not make this observation lightly – I am a major collector of videos, gay and mainstream, and I can state with some authority and without hesitation that BEN AND ARTHUR is quite simply the worst film I have ever sat through in my life. Period. My collection boasts over 1,600 films (93% on them on DVD) and of those, well over 300 are gay and lesbian themed. I hardly own every gay movie ever made, but I am comfortable in stating that I pretty much purchase almost every gay video of interest that gets released, and very often I buy videos without knowing anything about the film. Sometimes, this makes for a pleasant surprise - Aimee & Jaguar, It's In The Water, Urbania and Normal are all examples of excellent gay titles that I stumbled upon accidentally. So when I read on the box that BEN AND ARTHUR concerned a conflict between gay lovers and the Christian Right, one of my favorite subjects, I decided to take the plunge sight unseen, despite my previously disappointing purchase of another CULTURE Q CONNECTION title, VISIONS OF SUGAR PLUMS. That film was pretty bad, but compared to BEN AND ARTHUR, it viewed like GONE WITH THE WIND. So what was so wrong with BEN AND ARTHUR? Plenty! To begin with, the "plot" such as it was, was totally ridiculous. This film almost made me sympathetic to the Christian Right – we are asked to believe not only that a church would expel a member because his brother is gay, but that a priest would actually set up a mob style execution of a gay couple in order to save their souls (like this even makes sense). The writing is so poor that many scenes make no sense at all, and several plot points reflect no logic, follow-up or connection to the story. Murder and violence seem to be acceptable ends to the gay activist / right wing conflict on both sides, and the acting is so bad that it's difficult to imagine how anybody in this film got hired. The characters who are supposed to be straight are almost without exception clearly gay - and nelly stereotypes to boot; the gay characters are neither sexy nor interesting. This film is enough to put off anybody from buying gay themed videos forever, and the distributors should be ashamed of themselves. The only advantage this picture has over my other CULTURE Q Connection purchase, VISIONS OF SUGARPLAMS, is that this one has a soundtrack with clear dialogue. Hardly a distinction, since the script is so insipid that understanding the script only serves to make you more aware of how bad this film truly is. It is an embarrassment to Queer culture, and I intend to warn everyone I possibly can before they waste their money on it. At $9.95 this film would have been way overpriced; I understand that it's soon to be re-priced under $20, which is STILL highway robbery. I paid the original price of $29.95, and I never felt more cheated in my life. The only true laugh connected with this drivel is the reviews – I have seen "user reviews" for this film on numerous websites, and there is always one or two that "praise" the director / writer / actor in such a way that it's obvious that the reviewer is a friend of this Ed Wood wannabe. How sad. How desperate. I just wish IMDb would allow you to assign zero stars - or even minus zero. If ever a film deserved it, this is it.

De-Lovely (2004)

Not As Bad As I'd Feared and For Different Reasons

[4/10 · 6 November 2005]

I am one of those gay men to whom straight friends always say, "How come you think everybody in the world is gay?" I am also one of those gay activists who refused to even CONSIDER seeing "Shakespeare In Love" because I've been told that that film is devoid of the even the slightest hint that The Bard also liked men. So, when I read some of the reviews of De-Lovely that flat-out declared it a revisionist version of Cole Porter's sex life, with little focus on his gay affairs and most of the plot concentrated on his heterosexual marriage, I was prepared to hate this film before I even saw the trailer. I collect films with gay content. Because I was told that this film is at least marginally gay, and since I love the work of Cole Porter, I brought the film and mentally prepared myself for a disappointing experience, or maybe even an evening of aggravation. When the end credits were rolling, I found I wasn't half as disappointed as I thought I would be, and that in itself was a pleasant surprise. In fact, this portrait of Cole paints him exactly the way I have always understood him to be – that is, a gay man who happened to marry a woman whom he truly loved. It also maintains that his love for his wife had little or no effect on his relations with men, which is also exactly the way I have always understood that he lived his dual life. Given the times he lived in, he was extraordinarily upfront about his sex life, and I found no inconsistency with how he managed both of his sex lives (gay and straight) and juggled a high-profile career at the same time. But the flashbacks are easily the best part of the picture, and they should have left well enough alone. Instead, we get the ridiculous premise that an unnamed director escorts the dying Cole Porter to view a live stage piece / film biography of himself. This scenario is so tired that every time the flashbacks lapse, you cringe with embarrassment for the people who created this film, and the leaden pace that permeates those scenes is almost too much to bear. Not only do they interrupt the narrative, while the flashbacks are halted, Porter offers comments and does his best to "correct" the facts, all the while turning melancholic and teary-eyed when images of his dead wife appear. Even worse news - for the most part, the musical numbers are absolutely pathetic. First of all, if you're going to make a musical (and this film is advertised as a musical), it would be a good idea to let the music be heard. Instead, we get renditions of Porter's best songs in which all his snappy verses are completely obscured by dialogue. This is not only supposed to be a musical, it's supposed to celebrate the genius of Cole Porter, arguably the greatest Tin Pan Alley composer of the twentieth century. So why are his brilliant lyrics hidden behind snatches of bad screen writing? Then there are the performances of the songs themselves. Most of the songs are assigned arrangements that are much too modern for a period piece. In particular, the songs Love For Sale (Vivian Green), Just One of Those Things (Diana Krall) and Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye (Natalie Cole, in the worst renditions of this song I've ever heard – and I used to like her a lot) are all utterly savaged by up-to-the-minute arrangements that brought Cindy Lauper to mind. The worst reading by far was by Sheryl Crow, who destroys the delicate melody of Begin The Beguine, and had me yearning for Ella Fitzgerald, Fred Astaire or just about anybody else from the actual period. If it wasn't for Elvis Costello, who was one of the few performance artists in this picture who seemed to understand that it's set in the 1920's-1940's, and the delightful Caroline O'Conner, whose vocal imitation of Ethel Merman is so spot-on it's scary, the soundtrack would be a total waste. Costello and O'Conner alone save the day and make the music come to life. Of course, Kevin Kline doesn't sing very well, but neither did Cole Porter, so that was acceptable. The scene where Porter coaxes an actor into believing he can sing the difficult Night and Day was brilliant, and may be the best scene in the film. On the whole, I wasn't as disappointed with De-Lovely as I expected to be, at least not for the reasons that I thought I would. The biographical information was fairly accurate, Kline's performance was quite believable, and in particular, Ashley Judd's portrayal of Linda Porter was quite well realized. Flawed, yes, especially the musical numbers, but not as hard a slap in my gay face as I was afraid it might turn out to be.

Touch of Pink (2004)

Above Average

[6/10 · 6 November 2005]

Within the glut of "coming out comedies" I've purchased in the past few years, I've noticed that they all seem to have similar plot devices. They usually present a young gay couple, consisting of one partner who is out and comfortable with his family, job and friends and a partner who is not out to any of these people. Almost always, the happy couple is suddenly confronted by the visit of a parent or other relative (usually from another country or culture) from whom they must conceal the truth of their relationship, or come out once and for all. Many of these films mean well, but frequently (especially when other cultures are involved) the movie is trite, offensive or dated. I was prepared for Touch of Pink to be all of these things, and half-wondered to myself as I purchased it why I bothered. I was in for a pleasant surprise. The characters were real, engaging and likable. The two actors who played the couple were not drop-dead gorgeous hunks, just pleasant looking enough to have the average gay viewer identify with them. The gimmick of having Cary Grant as the imaginary friend of the main character worked better than I expected it to. All too often imitations of celebrities come off as just that – imitations, and pale ones to boot. Kyle MacLachlan has Cary Grant's vocal mannerisms down pat, without being overly exaggerated or silly. Alim's mother is pretty, bitchy and quite a lot of fun, and her character has most of the really funny lines in the picture, which are many. And I was also impressed not only by the production values and acting, which were first rate, but by the first class treatment given to the DVD release. All too often, DVD's of films with gay subject matter come at very high prices with no extras whatsoever. This disc offered subtitles in several languages (including English for the hearing impaired) a trailer and a short documentary on the making of the film. These are extras that people who purchase mainstream films take for granted, and I am always delighted when they're included in a gay title. All in all this film was quite enjoyable.

Blind Faith (1998 TV Movie)

Blew Me Away

[8/10 · 6 November 2005]

Of all the dozens of excellent films I have in my collection on VHS, this remains the film I would most like to see transferred to DVD. What a gem! When I originally purchased it without knowing a thing about it, I was slightly intrigued by the fact that the synopsis on the video box makes the film sound like a gritty suspense thriller, one of my favorite genres. The plot sounded interesting – a young black student is accused of murdering a while teen in NYC during the 1950's. OK, sounds like an intriguing piece of drama, I'll take it. So I took it home and was utterly blown away. One plot twist after another, fantastic acting, and a surprise theme about homophobia (which turns out to be the main point of the film) kept me riveted to my seat for the entire film. The story was believable, the drama intense, and the ending heartbreaking. I kept thinking about this film for days after I'd seen it, and since then I have lent my VHS to a half dozen friends, all of who were as emotionally effected by its sincerity as I was. This minor masterpiece, which sadly seems to be quite obscure, is a piece of drama that I would not hesitate to recommend to anyone. If you can manage to find it anywhere, rent it, purchase it, copy it, or steal it. You won't be sorry.

The 24th Day (2004)

Intelligent Tale of Sexual Responsibility

[8/10 · 6 November 2005]

This is another film I purchased without knowing a thing about it, and wound up being quite glad I did. The premise of this film had me on the edge of my seat from the very first gut-wrenching conflict, in a film that was filled to the brim with gut-wrenching conflicts. The acting of both principals in this essentially two-character piece was first rate, and helped to elevate it high above most standard gay-themed fare. But what really made this picture superior to 90% of the gay titles I've purchased in the past year was the confrontation of real issues that gay men should be discussing, but frequently shy away from. Without giving away the plot, let me say that almost every minute of the taught, carefully crafted script is imbued with thoughtful discussion on issues that are all to frequently ignored by sexually active gay men. I didn't see the ending coming at all, and the ultimate, positive and healthy message – that everyone is responsible for their own conduct, and the consequences thereof – is one that too many people don't seem to get, in my observation. In a world where the madness of barebacking and substance abuse is decimating the gay urban male population, the lesson of this film is one that every gay man needs to consider, if not embrace wholeheartedly. Good god! A gay drama that dares to address and discuss sexual responsibility in an adult manner! What will they think of next?

Lady Sings the Blues (1972)

A Slap In Lady Day's Face

[1/10 · 6 November 2005]

When this film opened, I was a 17 year old fan of Diana Ross. I thought her fabulous and the film great. Funny how time can change perspective and viewpoint so completely. Shortly thereafter, a local newscast interviewed several musicians who had worked with Billie Holiday and were picketing the theatre where "Lady" had debuted. One said that the film was an insult to her memory, and her true life story was far more tragic than the film had suggested. More importantly, he said that Billie's music had suffered most in the attempt to film her life. He said that Miss Ross had failed to capture the essence of Billie's music, and that this film had reduced Miss Holiday's standing as the most important Jazz singer who'd ever lived to that of a mediocre pop vocalist. He implored everyone to check out the real Billie Holiday by purchasing some of her records. I had two immediate thoughts. One was, "Hmm, I thought the film was pretty good, but this guy seems to know what he's talking about". The other was, "Billie Holiday made records?" In fact, she made hundreds of records between 1935-59, but in over two hours of screen time, not one of them is even mentioned.

Prompted by the musician's suggestion and curiosity, I bought some Billie Holiday records and gave them a listen. That was the start of a life-long love of Jazz, and a complete reassessment of all that I knew and loved about popular music. As for the film, let's start with an early flaw. The opening credits are built around Diana Ross, as Billie Holiday, being arrested and booked for narcotics. The first thing we see is "New York City – 1936" in large letters across the screen; as such, the writers managed to commit a factual error within the first five seconds of the screenplay! Billie was first arrested in 1949, for which she spent one year in jail. In 1936, she was still playing small clubs in Harlem, and it is generally believed that she didn't touch heroin until the early 1940's. The film continues with so many factual mistakes that I could spend all the space allotted here just listing them, but what is most alarming to me today is the disproportionate importance that Louis McKay occupies in this piece of total fiction. McKay was Billie's second or possibly third husband. Her biographers agree that, had she lived, she most certainly would have divorced McKay and removed him from her life completely. He was an opportunist and a user, and was probably abusive. One of the ironies of her life is that, in a gross miscarriage of justice, McKay not only received the bulk of music royalties that went to her estate, he was allowed as "special consultant" to this film to nourish a portrait of himself that was overly flattering and historically ridiculous. His actual place in her life was merely as one in a long list of men who'd contributed to the misery that was her later life. In the autobiography for which the film was named, Billie describes her first encounter with McKay. She said she found him literally lying in the gutter, and rescued him from a prostitute who was attempting to pick his pocket. Their paths did not cross again until many years later, when he wormed his way back into her life, and took charge of her affairs when she was most vulnerable. In short, he was not the glamorous and gallant figure depicted in the film, nor was she chronically defenseless. Popular legend has it that Billie Holiday once single-handedly beat up two redneck sailors who dared to tangle with her in a Harlem speakeasy - hardly the sniffling crybaby who lay crumpled in a corner waiting for Louis to rescue her, as portrayed in this film.

The film would have you believe that Billie started shooting heroin because she witnessed a lynching; one of the dramatic highpoints depicts Billie on the tour bus reflecting on the horrors of lynching while we hear snatches of her most famous song, Strange Fruit. For years after my first viewing of the movie I wondered why that song didn't have a bigger impact for me the first time I saw it. Now that I have acquired the DVD I know why – Billie's best song has been gutted. We hear the opening lines and the ending, but the middle verses have been eliminated. Gone is the most powerful imagery - "Black bodies swinging in the Southern breeze, strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees. Pastoral scene of the gallant South; the bulging eyes and the twisted mouth…then the sudden smell of burning flesh" – these words are simply not there. No wonder I hardly noticed the song when I first saw the film.

This picture was made only 13 years after Lady Day's death. How could everybody associated with this film have totally forgotten what she stood for? Billie Holiday literally changed the way popular songs are sung, and therefore influenced every singer that came after her. I do not make this statement lightly. Many music critics and students agree that, before Billie, popular singers approached songs the same way that classical and opera singers always had; they sang the notes exactly as written, with no deviation from the written melody, no improvisation and, consequently, with little emotion or emphasis on feeling. Billie changed all that – which is why Frank Sinatra (for one) readily admitted that he'd learned everything he knew about phrasing from listening to Billie's records. It is difficult in hindsight to appreciate Billie's impact on vocal style simply because she so totally changed the way songs are sung, and every singer who came after her, whether they realize it or not, has been influenced by her on some level. She made far too important a contribution to music to receive the careless historical rendering and empty dramatics proffered by this film.

The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds (1972)

Not At All Like The Play

[3/10 · 1 November 2005]

I was privileged to see the original off-Broadway production starring acclaimed actress Sada Thompson, and I also saw her immediate replacement in the role of Beatrice, Joan Blondell. I also caught a touring company a few years later in which Shelley Winters played Beatrice (not my favorite actress by a long shot) and she was just fine in the part. After viewing Ms. Winters in the role, I was convinced that this was so perfectly written a piece that nobody could ever mess it up. Then the movie came out. I have always had a great deal of respect for both Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, and was eagerly looking forward to what they could do with so meaty a drama. I saw the film as soon as it opened, and was mystified and extremely disappointed when I saw how totally they destroyed what on stage was a piece of pure poetry and made it into a shallow, dreary soap opera. The allegory between the title and the situation of the characters was completely removed, as was a good deal of the best dialogue. The fragile, heartbreaking relationship between Beatrice and her daughters became something ugly, morbid and downright depressing. The original play ended on a very hopeful note, as the observer realized that Tilly, if no one else, would survive her bleak surroundings to become a fully nuanced and interesting person. The dismal tone of the film left me drained and actually quite annoyed that this beautiful, very real and poetically written play could be transformed into such a depressing and altogether banal film. All I kept thinking as I left the theatre was, "Why did they have to change it so much? It's been ruined". The only positive note for me was the retention of the wonderful character actress Judith Lowry (who must have been over 90 when the film was made) as Nanny. Ms. Lowry was the original Nanny in the off-Broadway production and, although her character had virtually no lines, her wonderful presence alone was enough to bring a smile to the faces of the audience. Again, as a fan of both Newman and Woodward, this was a total disappointment.

O Fantasma (2000)

Beautiful Boy, Pretentious Director

[3/10 · 2 October 2005]

A mess of misused metaphors and confused imagery from start to finish, I was left scratching my head wondering who these people are and why they behave the way they do. Forgive me for expecting the film to provide any answers. The good news: if you like beautiful boys, Ricardo Meneses as Sergio is one of the most gorgeous creatures to ever stand before a lens. Despite the hopelessly confusing script, his acting (such as it is) is amazing, especially at his age (18) and experience (first film). Too bad he had to be "discovered" by a director who makes his audience beg for each scrap of insight, and pretentiously expects the viewer to read their own interpretation into whatever nonsense he sets up as his next scene. I wanted to give it the benefit of a doubt, so after sitting through one screening of this erotically charged but confused movie, I sat through it again with the director's commentary on. Cheating, I know, but after paying all that money for the DVD I was hoping to gain some idea of what was going on. After the second screening I was half in love with the young lead actor, but the commentary destroyed any respect I may have had for the director.

Sergio is a garbage collector in Lisbon. He works a graveyard shift with an assortment of oddballs, and in between collecting garbage he has a series of sexual escapades that seem impossibly jaded for one so young. While other boys his age are swimming or surfing, he's dressing up in a full-body suit of latex, having anonymous sex in men's rooms and exploring kinky sex with any willing male he can find. Just so you know how kinky he is, in one scene he masturbates in the shower while strangling himself with the shower-massage cord. You have to wonder where the imagination comes from, then you realize that the writer-director has been harboring some pretty extreme sexual fantasies about the neighborhood garbage men. Sergio finally meets a man who's not interested, because he's straight. This was not the first or last thing in this film I didn't get; when I was that age, I understood that some guys just couldn't be had, so I shrugged my shoulders and moved on. Not Sergio. He takes obsession to unheard of heights, especially for an 18 year old. He stalks the swimmer, goes through his garbage, and steals his torn old swimsuit.

In one of the first of many explicit sexual encounters in O Fantasma, Sergio comes upon a policeman handcuffed and gagged in the backseat of a patrol car. He masturbates the cop to orgasm, leaves him tied up, and then runs off to work, where he spends the rest of the night sniffing his hand and licking the residue. I hoped that the director's commentary would explain how and why the cop is tied up in his own squad car, but his sole comment on the soundtrack is, "You don't understand in the film why the cop is handcuffed". I didn't understand it in the audience, either. In one scene, Sergio is busy cleaning the doghouse, when he turns and sees the foreman standing in the door. He pushes past, their faces register some indications of conflict, and then the foreman shuts the door. The director's commentary on this action is, "The door closes, and you know what will happen, but you don't see it". Uh, no, I'm afraid the relationship between Sergio and the foreman is the least developed of all the underdeveloped relationships in this film, so what happens next is anybody's guess. Not that I cared; Sergio is the only character whose personality is even partially explored, and all we ever learn about him is that he's sexually kinky to the max. The picture goes on endlessly, with Sergio refusing to let go of his obsession for the swimmer, until he has the most excruciatingly slow breakdown ever recorded in a movie. At the same time, what little there is of coherence also breaks down. The director's commentary infuriated me even more toward the end; after spending most of the commentary praising the cooperation, talent and maturity of his young lead, he proclaims, "It is cruel to say it, but he wants to continue acting, and I think he will not act again. I will not use him in my next film…it's like his body has been used up". I haven't had the benefit of seeing anything else by Mr. Rodrigues, but if given the choice of viewing his next film or Ricardo Meneses next appearance I think I'd opt for the beautiful boy any day. After botching the attempted kidnapping of his beloved obsession, Sergio takes off to spend the balance of the film wordlessly running. The final scenes treat us to a guided tour of the sights, sounds (and by way of commentary) smells of a garbage dump. Sergio wanders through the dump clutching a live rabbit he finds among the garbage ("I saw the rabbits there" says the director, "so it's believable"). Grasping for a final metaphor, he remarks "He is like a cross between a bug and an insect" a comment that seems to me to be a cross between the idiotic and the insipid. He then ends this drivel after the slowest twenty minutes of film I've ever sat through by more or less telling us he didn't really know how to end it – like I hadn't figured that out a full ten minutes before the end credits started running. As Sergio continues to stumble on into the dawn before the final fadeout, the director says, "I could bring him back to the city, but that would not make much sense". The idea of a scene that might not make much sense didn't prevent him from filming the other 90 minutes of this drek – I dare say he should have gone for it.