If anyone ever doubted to what extent English and Spanish have been mingled, maimed, or mangled over the course of 33 years of Cuban exile in the United States, I have a suggestion: Rush to your nearest movie theater this weekend and catch The Mambo Kings. The gallery of rogue…
Last year, in a review of Oliver Stone’s The Doors for this paper, Ben Greenman delivered a brilliant parting shot aimed at Stone, concluding that the best Doors movie ever was Francis Coppola’s Apocalypse Now. Admittedly it’s a loaded sentence – Coppola’s Vietnam War movie isn’t about The Doors at…
Illiteracy and philistinism, America’s most unremitting woes in the age of homogenized tube culture, could scarcely have found two wittier, more delightful exponents and defenders than Saturday Night Live’s Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar, the hyper-juvenile, heavy-metal yarn spinners whose late-night, public-access cable show, direct from Wayne’s basement in Aurora,…
What is to be done with the Miami Film Festival? The question has plagued critical columns (mine and those of others throughout South Florida) for years, and based on a predictably limited advance peek at this year’s festival selections, the answer for me remains as elusive as ever. On one…
“Glamour, excitement, and ennui” promises the press release about the Ninth Miami Film Festival ready to roll this Friday at Gusman Center for the Performing Arts. In keeping with such promises over nine years, at least you can count on one being fulfilled this year – ennui. I shouldn’t yet…
It takes a supremely perverted sense of humor allied to a well-meaning foolhardiness to conjure up something like Kafka. The new film, delivered in The Third Man thriller style, has the added cachet of being loosely based on the life of – and employing themes taken from works by -…
Thorough, profound, astonishing, and insufferable imbecility envelops the screen in Shining Through, a Hollywood-formula spy thriller-romance set in a woebegone World War II, finding a permanent home there for two hours and twelve minutes. It’s one of the worst movies to come my way in a long while, which is…
As the science fiction thriller Freejack would have it, the big Apple seventeen years hence is a grimy midnight junkyard blanketed by noxious gas, infested with drug-crazed snipers engaged in open warfare, and run, police-state style, by the hired goons of all-powerful corporations. Nuns armed with machine guns curse like…
Juice, a coming-of-age picture about a group of four young black men growing up in a New York City ghetto, is the kind of film you root for during the first hour, then pray for during the second. Ernest Dickerson’s movie looks great, of course, but the former cinematographer doesn’t…
Tom Berenger has never been as imposing and remote – or as doggone silly – as he is in At Play in the Fields of the Lord, Hector Babenco’s new film based on the Peter Matthiessen novel of white mischief in the rain forests of South America. Berenger plays Lewis…
When Hollywood producers scan their in-boxes for hot scripts, they look for a story with a “through line.” They’d like you to believe this term refers to a strong, lean narrative that pulls you through the movie and keeps you interested. But it really refers to a concept you can…
In this era of slob humor and assault comedy, it’s a pleasure to stumble across a movie that comes at you as obliquely – slyly, even – as Mike Leigh’s offbeat Life Is Sweet. This wry slice of life, filmed in the north London suburb of Enfield, concerns the quiet…
It’s amazing what passes for deep thinking in Southern California. Lawrence Kasdan’s godawful Grand Canyon combines a heavy dose of New Age psycho-babble, some lame platitudes about race relations, and a spoonful of pseudo-mystical pap on the possibilities of transcendence in evil, chaotic Los Angeles. Kasdan (The Accidental Tourist, Body…
Depending on which school of style you consult, William S. Burroughs comes up as a neglected literary genius or a dithering fraud still awash in the tame excesses of the Beat era. Cultists and detractors agree on one thing, though: For more than 30 years, Burroughs’s complex, scabrous fantasies have…
The durable cottage industry created by the events of November 22, 1963 (six hundred books, just for a start) has never seen anything quite like the Coming of Oliver Stone – or the $40 million Warner Bros. poured into his three-hour epic, JFK. To hear the self-appointed guardian of the…
It’s hard to talk about what’s wrong with Claude Chabrol’s static retelling of Madame Bovary without mentioning the glossy 1949 version, directed by Hollywood musical master Vincente Minnelli. Few of the nine celluloid stabs at Bovary pleased Flaubert’s fans (Jean Renoir’s 1934 fantasy version probably came close, because it used…
The ads for The Prince of Tides, Barbra Streisand’s latest directorial effort, sell the film as a love story. But the romance feels secondary, because the story’s really about a rangy South Carolina football coach named Tom Wingo (Nick Nolte) struggling to understand how his dysfunctional childhood disfigured the rest…
The prototypical Steve Martin character has evolved into a decent, beleaguered goof who can but roll his eyes, dip into that little trademark mambo step, and try to persevere in the face of domestic distress. He’s true-hearted but baffled — Buster Keaton with facial expressions. This is the striving Dad…
Bugsy, the biography of Forties gangster Ben “Bugsy” Siegel, the man who built Las Vegas, is directed by Barry Levinson, who knows a thing or two about the way men think; his previous films, including Diner and Tin Men, are about how men relate to one another while ignoring or…
West German writer and director Monika Treut has devoted her film career to a study of sexuality, especially those sexualities viewed as taboo or deviant. Since she selected de Sade’s Juliette and Sacher-Masoch’s Venus In Furs as the primary texts for her Ph.D. thesis, Treut has forged bravely ahead with…
Any Trekkie worth his stars can probably fix the precise moment when Kirk, Spock, and Bones replaced the Three Stooges (or the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost) in the American popular imagination. The less enthralled among us simply grin and bear the gradual fact of it. In any case, here…
If you’ve started to swallow this generation’s subtle ethnic-assassination campaign – resolving Japan’s dominance of world business by denigrating the Japanese as button-down, honor-bewildered, investment-confounded numberheads – you should probably hop in your Toyota and go see Black Lizard. If you’ve ever hankered for a detective story in which the…
