Finally, a movie targeted square at the heart of Oprah Book Club members! Step this way, ladies and...ladies. We've saved the best seats in the house for the Barnes and Noble among you. Rise and shine, it's an Amazon.com day! The only Borders are between you and a nice long nap, and those borders are collapsing by the minute - all 180 of them.
Hey Oprah fans: There's enough cooking and chore-tending in this movie to make you feel right at home. So set down those spatulas and sit a spell!
I was very worried about Beloved, right up until I realized here was a movie about ghosts and haunted houses - just in time for Halloween. Right on!
Unfortunately, this flick was so long, my spirit had long since left the building, enjoyed some smokes, played a round of golf, knocked back some brewskis, eaten a leisurely dinner, and slipped back into my body in time for the closing credits. Let's see, should I raise a family or see Beloved? This movie is the Dial soap of "time on your hands." Never have I witnessed so little happening for so long. Was Beloved produced by the same folks who did the presidential testimony video? You know a movie's long when nurses stand by to check the audience for bedsores.
Beloved, of course, is the creation of famous novelist Toni Morrison. This woman was blessed with talent from the start. Just look at the seeds of success sown into her name: "Morrison," as in Jim and Van. "Toni," as in Bennett, Perkins, and - most of all - Tenille. How could she fail?
In case you think I'm a rube...you may be right. Once upon a time, I tried to read the Pulitzer Prize winning book on which this movie was based. I made it about 50 pages deep before I gave up. I just couldn't follow the slave dialect. The same way I couldn't groove on Huck Finn's hick dialect or chirp along with William F. Buckley's lazy Hah-vahd "R's." Then, in a flash of humbling insight, I realized I lack the requisite liberal intellectual credentials - the kind that separate James Joyce from James T. Kirk. C'est la vie!
I must say that the use of Motown oldies in the soundtrack was in particularly poor taste. Not to mention the deplorable product placement for PBS, as in the moment when Danny asks Oprah, "Sethe, aren't y'all listening to Morning Edition? There's a dang fine whimsical yet 'nformative 20-minute feature'on the Appalachian Bagpipe and Beets Fest'val, in its 30th year of beeps and beets."
This movie has "I want Oscar" written all over it. Why not just print "For your consideration" above the title? Oprah's character is listed in the credits as "And the award goes to...." And that credit for "Acceptance speech to be written by..." was really one step too far.
Oscar buzz, shmoscar buzz, there's no way this flick's gonna beat Saving Private Ryan to the winner's podium, but look for some juice in the performers categories. From where I'm sitting (and I've been sitting there for three hours now), these are by far some of the best female performances of the year. Unlike Oprah's overbite, they're flawless. Oprah, her kids, her mom - pure acting dynamite. And I ain't kidding.
Also look for some writing nominations. Anybody who scribes the line: "I want you to touch me on the inside part" deserves some kind of high praise, as far as I'm concerned. Woolly Mammoth lookalike and Ice Age cohabitant Joe Esterhaus wrote a line like this for Showgirls: "Fuck me like the dog that I am, Kyle." Somewhere in these two lines is the difference between Oscar and ostentation.
My favorite part of Beloved is when the Beloved chick first speaks her name in that deep, guttural voice from Hell, one letter at a time. SLOWLY.
"Beeee - Eeeeeee - Lllllllll..."
Okay I can see where this is going.
"Ooooooo - Veeeeeee."
I haven't got all day.
"Eeeeeee."
The suspense is killing me.
"Deeeeee. BELOVED!"
Okay, moving on now.
Before you lecture me, I know the topic here is deadly serious: The story of the terrible effects of slavery on a woman who escapes it but is haunted by its heritage. Little wonder, then, that I've learned this lesson: White people suck. In fact, the only thing that sucks more than white people are 19th century white people. Damn, they suck hard.
Beloved is directed by the way talented Jonathan Demme, who has never seen a panorama he didn't photograph for five minutes too long. Jon is spending too much time on the Discovery Channel, if you ask me. I'll tell you this, Jon is no devotee of "Brevity," the ancient Greek God of pacing. This movie seems to end five times before it actually does.
In case you think otherwise, get this: I love Oprah. She's the realest chick on the tube. Maybe the only real chick on the tube. So save your nasty emails, Oprah fans, for Demme and the editors who should have made another 30 minutes of hard decisions on Beloved.
Catch the 2:30 matinee; you'll be home by sun-up.
Copyright 1998 Mark Ramsey. All rights reserved. NO PORTION MAY BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
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Date: Sun, 11 Oct 1998 21:33:29 EDT
From: FTWeekly00@aol.com
Subject: [MV] Film Threat Weekly : 10-12-98 : Slate II, Take 42
FILM THREAT WEEKLY
"Hollywood's Indie Voice of the New Millennium"
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Slate II, Take 42 : October 12th, 1998
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http://www.filmthreat.com
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"You look ridiculous in that make-up. Like the caricature of a whore."
- - Marlon Brando addressing his wife's corpse from "Last Tango in Paris"
