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movies-digest           Friday, June 7 2002           Volume 02 : Number 358



[MV] BARTLEBY / **1/2 (PG-13)
[MV] ENOUGH / *1/2 (PG-13)
[MV] INSOMNIA / ***1/2 (R)
[MV] SPIRIT: STALLION OF THE CIMARRON / *** (G)
[MV] THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST / *** (PG)
Re: [MV] ENOUGH /  (PG-13)
[MV] THE SUM OF ALL FEARS / ***1/2 (PG-13)
[MV] LATE MARRIAGE / *** (Not rated)
[MV] THE SUM OF ALL FEARS / ***1/2 (PG-13)
[MV] STAR WARS -- EPISODE 2: ATTACK OF THE CLONES / ** (PG)
[MV] BAD COMPANY / ** (PG-13)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: 24 May 2002 16:32:23 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] BARTLEBY / **1/2 (PG-13)

BARTLEBY / **1/2 (PG-13)

May 24, 2002

The Boss: David Paymer
Bartleby: Crispin Glover
Vivian: Glenne Headly
Rocky: Joe Piscopo
Ernie: Maury Chaykin
Frank Waxman: Seymour Cassel
Book Publisher: Carrie Snodgress
Mayor: Dick Martin
Outrider Pictures presents a film directed by Jonathan Parker. Written by
Parker and Catherine DiNapoli. Based on the story "Bartleby the Scrivener"
by Herman Melville. Running time: 82 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for some sexual
content).

BY ROGER EBERT

"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." - Thoreau

The life work of the employees in the Public Record Office can be easily
described: They take enormous quantities of printed documents they have no
interest in, and they file them. They are surrounded by the monument to
their labor: lots of file cabinets. No wonder they go mad. Vivian distracts
herself by flirting. Rocky pretends he has the inside line on everything.
For Ernie, changing the toner cartridge in a Xerox machine is an invitation
to disaster. Their boss patiently oversees their cheerless existence trying
not to contemplate the devastating meaningless of the office.

One day a new employee is hired. His name is Bartleby. The Boss asks him to
do something. "I would prefer not to," Bartleby says. That becomes his reply
to every request. He would prefer not to. He would prefer not to work, not
to file, not to obey, not to respond, NOT to. What he prefers to do is stand
in the center of the office with his neck cocked at an odd angle, staring at
the ceiling.

The Boss is checkmated. Bartleby is not doing bad work; he isn't working at
all. His refusal to work subverts the entire work ethic of the organization.
Everyone in the office--Vivian, Rocky, Ernie and the Boss himself--would
prefer not to work. But that way madness lies. Our civilization is founded
on its ability to get people to do things they would prefer not to do.

"Bartleby," is set in the present day in a vast monolithic office building
that crouches atop a hill like an Acropolis dedicated to bureaucracy. It is
based on "Bartleby the Scrivener," a famous story published in 1856 by
Herman Melville, who not only wrote Moby Dick but labored for many empty
years as a clerk in a customs house. Although the story is nearly 150 years
old, it is correct to observe, as A.O. Scott does in the New York Times,
that Melville anticipated Kafka--and Dilbert. This kind of office work
exists outside time.

David Paymer plays The Boss, a sad-eyed man who has a private office of his
own, its prestige undermined by the fact that his window directly overlooks
a Dumpster. Glenne Headly is Vivian, who flirts because if a man shows
interest in her, that may be evidence that she exists. Joe Piscopo is Rocky,
who dresses flamboyantly to imply he is not as colorless as his job. Maury
Chaykin is the hopeless nebbish Ernie, who elevates strategic incompetence
to an art form.

And Crispin Glover is Bartleby. The teen star of the '80s appears here like
a ghost, pale and immobile, arrested by some private grief or fear. When he
says, "I would prefer not to," it doesn't sound like insubordination,
rebellion or resistance, but like a flat statement of fact--a fact so
overwhelming it brings all possible alternatives to a dead halt.

The film has been directed by Jonathan Parker; he adapted the Melville story
with Catherine DiNapoli. It's his first work, and a promising one. I admire
it and yet cannot recommend it, because it overstays its natural running
time. The Melville short story was short because it needed to be short--to
make its point and then stop dead without compromise or consideration.
"Bartleby" is short for a feature film, at 82 minutes, but might have been
more successful at 50 or 60 minutes. Too bad there seems to be an
unbreakable rule against features that short, or short subjects that long.
In a perfect world, "Bartleby" would establish the office and its workers,
introduce Bartleby, develop response to the work, and stop. Side stories,
such as Vivian's attraction to the city manager (Seymour Cassel), would not
be necessary.

And yet there is a kind of uncompromising, implacable simplicity to
"Bartleby" that inspires admiration. In a world where most movies are about
exciting people doing thrilling things, here is a film about as job that is
living death, and a man who prefers not to do it. My friend McHugh worked
his way through college at Acme Pest Control of Bloomington, Ind. One day
while he was crawling under a house with a spray gun, a housewife invited
him into the kitchen for a lemonade. As he drank it, while covered in
cobwebs and mud, she told her son, "Study your lessons hard, Jimmy, or
you'll end up like him." Or like Bartleby.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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------------------------------

Date: 24 May 2002 16:32:35 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] ENOUGH / *1/2 (PG-13)

ENOUGH / *1/2 (PG-13)

May 24, 2002

Slim: Jennifer Lopez
Mitch: Billy Campbell
Ginny: Juliette Lewis
Gracie: Tessa Allen
Joe: Dan Futterman
Robbie: Noah Wyle
Columbia Pictures presents a film directed by Michael Apted. Written by
Nicholas Kazan. Running time: 115 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for intense scenes
of domestic violence, some sensuality and language).

BY ROGER EBERT

"Enough" is a nasty item masquerading as a feminist revenge picture. It's a
step or two above "I Spit On Your Grave," but uses the same structure, in
which a man victimizes a woman for the first half of the film, and then the
woman turns the tables in an extended sequence of graphic violence. It's
surprising to see a director like Michael Apted and an actress like Jennifer
Lopez associated with such tacky material.

It is possible to imagine this story being told in a good film, but that
would involve a different screenplay. Nicholas Kazan's script makes the evil
husband (Billy Campbell) such an unlikely caricature of hard-breathing
sadistic testosterone that he cannot possibly be a real human being. Of
course there are men who beat their wives and torture them with cruel mind
games, but do they satirize themselves as the heavy in a B movie? The
husband's swings of personality and mood are so sudden, and his motivation
makes so little sense, that he has no existence beyond the stereotyped Evil
Rich White Male. The fact that he preys on a poor Latino waitress is just
one more cynical cliche.

The story: Jennifer Lopez plays Slim, a waitress in a diner where she shares
obligatory sisterhood and bonding with Ginny (Juliette Lewis), another
waitress. A male customer tries to get her to go on a date, and almost
succeeds before another customer named Mitch (Campbell) blows the whistle
and reveals the first man was only trying to win a bet. In the movie's
headlong rush of events, Slim and Mitch are soon married, buy a big house,
have a cute child, and then Slim discovers Mitch is having affairs, and he
growls at her: "I am, and always will be, a person who gets what he wants."
He starts slapping her around.

Although their child is now 3 or 4, this is a Mitch she has not seen before
in their marriage. Where did this Mitch come from? How did he restrain
himself from pounding and strangling her during all of the early years? Why
did she think herself happy until now? The answer, of course, is that Mitch
turns on a dime when the screenplay requires him to. He even starts talking
differently.

The plot (spoiler warning) now involves Slim's attempts to hide herself and
the child from Mitch. She flees to Michigan and hooks up with a
battered-wife group, but Mitch, like the hero of a mad slasher movie, is
always able to track her down. Along the way, Slim appeals for help to the
father (Fred Ward) who has never acknowledged her, and the father's dialogue
is so hilariously over the top in its cruelty that the scene abandons all
hope of working seriously and simply functions as haywire dramaturgy.

Slim gets discouraging advice from a lawyer ("There is nothing you can do.
He will win."). And then she gets training in self-defense from a martial
arts instructor. Both of these characters are African-American, following
the movie's simplistic moral color-coding. The day when the evil husband is
black and the self-defense instructor is white will not arrive in our
lifetimes.

The last act of the movie consists of Slim outsmarting her husband with a
series of clever ploys in which she stage-manages an escape route, sets a
booby trap for his SUV, and then lures him into a confrontation where she
beats the Shinola out of him, at length, with much blood, lots of stunt
work, breakaway furniture, etc. The movie in time-honored horror movie
tradition doesn't allow Mitch to really be dead the first time. There is a
plot twist showing that Slim can't really kill him--she's the heroine, after
all--and then he lurches back into action like the slasher in many an
exploitation movie, and is destroyed more or less by accident. During this
action scene, Slim finds time for plenty of dialogue explaining that any
court will find she was acting in self-defense.

All of this would be bad enough without the performance of Tessa Allen as
Gracie, the young daughter. She has one of those squeaky itsy-bitsy piped-up
voices that combines with babyish dialogue to make her more or less
insufferable; after the ninth or 10th scream of "Mommy! Mommy!" we hope that
she will be shipped off to an excellent day care center for the rest of the
story.

Jennifer Lopez is one of my favorite actresses, but not here, where the
dialogue requires her to be passionate and overwrought in a way that is
simply not believable, maybe because no one could take this cartoon of a
story seriously. No doubt she saw "Enough" as an opportunity to play a heavy
dramatic role, but there is nothing more dangerous than a heavy role in a
lightweight screenplay, and this material is such a melodramatic soap opera
that the slick production values seem like a waste of effort.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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------------------------------

Date: 24 May 2002 16:32:48 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] INSOMNIA / ***1/2 (R)

INSOMNIA / ***1/2 (R)

May 24, 2002

Will Dormer: Al Pacino
Walter Finch: Robin Williams
Ellie Burr: Hilary Swank
Hap Eckhart: Martin Donovan
Rachel Clement: Maura Tierney
Randy Stetz: Jonathan Jackson
Warner Bros. presents a film directed by Christopher Nolan. Written by
Hillary Seitz, based on a screenplay by Nikolaj Frobenius and Erik
Skjoldbjaerg. Running time: 118 minutes. Rated R (for language, some
violence and brief nudity).

BY ROGER EBERT

He looks exhausted when he gets off the plane. Troubles are preying on him.
An investigation by internal affairs in Los Angeles may end his police
career. And now here he is in--where the hell is this?--Nightmute, Alaska,
land of the midnight sun, investigating a brutal murder. The fuels driving
Detective Will Dormer are fear and exhaustion. They get worse.

Al Pacino plays the veteran cop, looking like a man who has lost all hope.
His partner Hap Eckhart (Martin Donovan) is younger, more resilient and may
be prepared to tell the internal affairs investigators what they want to
know--information that would bring the older man down. They have been sent
up north to help with a local investigation, flying into Nightmute in a
two-engine prop plane that skims low over jagged ice ridges. They'll be
assisting a local cop named Ellie Burr (Hilary Swank), who is still fresh
with the newness of her job.

"Insomnia," the first film directed by Christopher Nolan since his famous
"Memento" (2001), is a remake of a Norwegian film of the same name, made in
1998 by Erik Skjoldbjaerg. That was a strong, atmospheric, dread-heavy film,
and so is this one. Unlike most remakes, the Nolan "Insomnia" is not a pale
retread, but a re-examination of the material, like a new production of a
good play. Stellan Skarsgard, who starred in the earlier film, took an
existential approach to the character; he seemed weighed down by the moral
morass he was trapped in. Pacino takes a more physical approach: How much
longer can he carry this burden?

The story involves an unexpected development a third of the way through, and
then the introduction of a character we do not really expect to meet, not
like this. The development is the same in both movies; the character is much
more important in this new version, adding a dimension I found fascinating.
Spoilers will occur in the next paragraph, so be warned.

The pivotal event in both films, filmed much alike, is a shoot-out in a
thick fog during a stakeout. The Pacino character sets a trap for the
killer, but the suspect slips away in the fog, and then Pacino, seeing an
indistinct figure loom before him, shoots and kills Hap, his partner from
L.A. It is easy enough to pin the murder on the escaping killer, except that
one person knows for sure who did it: the escaping killer himself.

In the Norwegian film, the local female detective begins to develop a
circumstantial case against the veteran cop. In a nice development in the
rewrite (credited to original authors Nikolaj Frobenius and Skjoldbjaerg,
working with Hillary Seitz), the killer introduces himself into the case as
sort of Pacino's self-appointed silent partner.

The face of the killer, the first time we see it, comes as a shock, because
by now we may have forgotten Robin Williams was even in the film. He plays
Walter Finch, who does not really consider himself a murderer, although his
killing was cruel and brutal. These things happen. Everyone should be
forgiven one lapse. Right, detective? Pacino, sleepless in a land where the
sun mercilessly never sets, is trapped: If he arrests Finch, he exposes
himself and his own cover-up. And the local detective seems to suspect
something.

Unusual, for a thriller to hinge on issues of morality and guilt, and
Nolan's remake doesn't avoid the obligatory Hollywood requirement that all
thrillers must end in a shoot-out. There is also a scene involving a chase
across floating logs, and a scene where a character is trapped underwater.
These are thrown in as--what? Sops for the cinematically impaired, I
suppose. Only a studio executive could explain why we need perfunctory
action, just for action's sake, in a film where the psychological suspense
is so high.

Pacino and Williams are very good together. Their scenes work because
Pacino's character, in regarding Williams, is forced to look at a mirror of
his own self-deception. The two faces are a study in contrasts. Pacino is
lined, weary, dark circles under his eyes, his jaw slack with fatigue.
Williams has the smooth, open face of a true believer, a man convinced of
his own case. In this film and "One-Hour Photo," which played at Sundance
2002 and will be released later in the year, Williams reminds us that he is
a considerable dramatic talent--and that while, over the years, he has
chosen to appear in some comedic turkeys ("Death to Smoochy" leaps to mind),
his serious films are almost always good ones.

Why Nolan took on this remake is easy to understand. "Memento" was one of a
kind; the thought of another film based on a similar enigma is exhausting.
"Insomnia" is a film with a lot of room for the director, who establishes a
distinctive far-north location, a world where the complexities of the big
city are smoothed out into clear choices. The fact that it is always
daylight is important: The dilemma of this cop is that he feels people are
always looking at him, and he has nowhere to hide, not even in his
nightmares.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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------------------------------

Date: 24 May 2002 16:32:57 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] SPIRIT: STALLION OF THE CIMARRON / *** (G)

SPIRIT: STALLION OF THE CIMARRON / *** (G)

May 24, 2002

Featuring the voices of:
Narrator: Matt Damon
The Colonel: James Cromwell
Little Creek: Daniel Studi
DreamWorks Pictures presents a film directed by Kelly Asbury and Lorna Cook.
Written by John Fusco. Running time: 82 minutes. Rated G.

BY ROGER EBERT

The animals do not speak in "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron," and I think
that's important to the film's success. It elevates the story from a
children's fantasy to one wider audiences can enjoy, because although the
stallion's adventures are admittedly pumped-up melodrama, the hero is
nevertheless a horse and not a human with four legs. There is a whole level
of cuteness that the movie avoids, and a kind of narrative strength it gains
in the process.

The latest animated release from DreamWorks tells the story of Spirit, a
wild mustang stallion, who runs free on the great Western plains before he
ventures into the domain of man and is captured by U.S. Cavalry troops. They
think they can tame him. They are wrong, although the gruff-voiced colonel
(voice of James Cromwell) makes the stallion into a personal obsession.

Spirit does not want to be broken, shod or inducted into the Army, and his
salvation comes through Little Creek (voice of Daniel Studi), an Indian
brave who helps him escape and rides him to freedom. The pursuit by the
cavalry is one of several sequences in the film where animation frees chase
scenes to run wild, as Spirit and his would-be captors careen down canyons
and through towering rock walls, dock under obstacles and end up in a river.

Watching the film, I was reminded of Jack London's classic novel White Fang,
so unfairly categorized as a children's story even though the book (and the
excellent 1991 film) used the dog as a character in a parable for adults.
White Fang and Spirit represent hold-outs against the taming of the
frontier; invaders want to possess them, but they do not see themselves as
property.

All of which philosophy will no doubt come as news to the cheering kids I
saw the movie with, who enjoyed it, I'm sure, on its most basic level, as a
big, bold, colorful adventure about a wide-eyed horse with a stubborn
streak. That Spirit does not talk (except for some minimal thoughts that we
overhear on voice-over) doesn't mean he doesn't communicate, and the
animators pay great attention to body language and facial expressions in
scenes where Spirit is frightened of a blacksmith, in love with a mare, and
the partner of the Indian brave (whom he accepts after a lengthy battle of
the wills).

There is also a scene of perfect wordless communication between Spirit and a
small Indian child who fearlessly approaches the stallion at a time when he
feels little but alarm about humans. The two creatures, one giant, one tiny,
tentatively reach out to each other, and the child's absolute trust is
somehow communicated to the horse. I remembered the great scene in "The
Black Stallion" (1979) where the boy and the horse edge together from the
far sides of the wide screen.

In the absence of much dialogue, the songs by rocker Bryan Adams fill in
some of the narrative gaps, and although some of them simply comment on the
action (a practice I find annoying), they are in the spirit of the story.
The film is short at 82 minutes, but surprisingly moving, and has a couple
of really thrilling sequences, one involving a train wreck and the other a
daring leap across a chasm. Uncluttered by comic supporting characters and
cute sidekicks, "Spirit" is more pure and direct than most of the stories we
see in animation--a fable I suspect younger viewers will strongly identify
with.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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Date: 24 May 2002 16:33:07 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST / *** (PG)

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST / *** (PG)

May 24, 2002

Algernon Moncrieff: Rupert     Everett
Jack Worthing: Colin Firth
Cecily Cardew: Reese     Witherspoon
Lady Bracknell: Judi Dench
Gwendolen Fairfax: Frances     O'Connor
Rev. Chasuble: Tom Wilkinson
Miss Prism: Anna Massey
Lane: Edward Fox
Miramax Films presents a film written and directed by Oliver Parker. Based
on the play by Oscar Wilde. Running time: 100 minutes. Rated PG.(for mild
sensuality).

BY ROGER EBERT

Be careful what you ask for; you might get it. Two weeks ago I deplored the
lack of wit in "Star Wars: Episode II--Attack of the Clones," which has not
one line of quotable dialogue. Now here is "The Importance of Being
Earnest," so thick with wit it plays like a reading from Bartlett's Familiar
Quotations. I will demonstrate. I have here the complete text of the Oscar
Wilde play, which I have downloaded from the Web. I will hit "Page Down" 20
times and quote the first complete line from the top of the screen:

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does.
That's his.

Now the question is, does this sort of thing appeal to you? Try these:

Really, if the lower orders don't set us a good example, what on earth is
the use of them?

To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose
both looks like carelessness.

It appeals to me. I yearn for a world in which every drawing room is a
stage, and we but players on it. But does anyone these days know what a
drawing room is? The Universal Studios theme park has decided to abolish its
characters dressed like the Marx Brothers and Laurel and Hardy, because "a
majority of people no longer recognize them." I despair. How can people
recognize wit who begin with only a half-measure of it?

Oscar Wilde's "The Importance of Being Earnest" is a comedy constructed out
of thin air. It is not really about anything. There are two romances at the
center, but no one much cares whether the lovers find happiness together.
Their purpose is to make elegant farce out of mistaken identities, the class
system, mannerisms, egos, rivalries, sexual warfare and verbal playfulness.

Oliver Parker's film begins with music that is a little too modern for the
period, circa 1895, following the current fashion in anachronistic movie
scores. It waltzes us into the story of two men who are neither one named
Ernest and who both at various times claim to be. Jack Worthing (Colin
Firth) calls himself Jack in the country and Ernest in town. In the country,
he is the guardian of the charming Miss Cecily Cardew (Reese Witherspoon),
who is the granddaughter of the elderly millionaire who adopted Jack after
finding him as an infant in a handbag he was handed in error at the
cloakroom in Victoria Station. When Jack grows bored with the country, he
cites an imaginary younger brother named Ernest who lives in London and must
be rescued from scrapes with the law.

This imaginary person makes perfect sense to Jack's friend Algernon
Moncrieff (Rupert Everett), who lives in town but has a fictitious friend
named Bunbury who lives in the country and whose ill health provides
Algernon an excuse to get out of town. I have gone into such detail about
these names and alternate identities because the entire play is constructed
out of such silliness, and to explain all of it would require--well, the
play.

In town Jack is much besotted by Gwendolen Fairfax (Frances O'Connor),
daughter of the formidable Lady Bracknell (Judi Dench), Algernon's aunt, who
is willing to consider Jack as a suitor for the girl but nonplussed to learn
that he has no people--none at all--and was indeed left in a bag at the
station. Thus her remark about his carelessness in losing both parents.

Algernon in the meantime insinuates himself into the country estate where
young Cecily is being educated under the watchful eye of Miss Prism (Anna
Massey), the governess; eventually all of the characters gather at the Manor
House, Woolton, where there's some confusion since Algernon has taken the
name Ernest for his visit and proposed to Cecily, so that when Cecily meets
Gwendolen, they both believe they are engaged to Ernest although Cecily of
course doesn't know that in town Gwendolen knows Jack as Ernest.

But now I have been lured into the plot again. The important thing about
"The Importance" is that all depends on the style of the actors, and Oliver
Parker's film is well cast. Reese Witherspoon, using an English accent that
sounds convincing to me, is charming as Jack's tender ward, who of course
falls for Algernon. She is a silly, flighty girl, just right for Algernon,
for whom romance seems valuable primarily as a topic of conversation.
Frances O'Connor is older and more sensuous as Gwendolen, and gently
encourages the shy Jack to argue his case ("Mr. Worthing, what have you got
to say to me?"). Judi Dench keeps a stern eye on the would-be lovers, and a
strong hand on the tiller.

"The Importance of Being Earnest" is above all an exercise in wit. There is
nothing to be learned from it, no moral, no message. It adopts what one
suspects was Wilde's approach to sex--more fun to talk about than to do. As
Algernon observes, romance dies when a proposal is accepted: "The very
essence of romance is uncertainty." Wilde takes this as his guide. When the
play's uncertainties have all been exhausted, the play ends. The last line
("I've now realized for the first time in my life the vital importance of
being earnest") takes on an interesting spin if we know that "earnest" was a
vernacular term for "gay" in 1895. Thus the closing line may subvert the
entire play, although not to the surprise of anyone who has been paying
attention.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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------------------------------

Date: Sun, 26 May 2002 21:08:35 EDT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: [MV] ENOUGH /  (PG-13)

In a message dated 05/24/2002 2:55:27 AM Roger Ebert's review of the new
Jennifer Lopez movie "Enough" says:

<<  It is possible to imagine this story being told in a good film>>

just by enjoying the movie that was made instead of the movie that Roger
would have made.

<< He starts slapping her around.
 Although their child is now 3 or 4, this is a Mitch she has not seen before
 in their marriage. Where did this Mitch come from? How did he restrain
 himself from pounding and strangling her during all of the early years? Why
 did she think herself happy until now? The answer, of course, is that Mitch
 turns on a dime when the screenplay requires him to. >>

No, the answer is that Mitch was able to hide his adulterous affair until
then and when his wife found out about it, he at first said it will never
happen again. When later she found out it was still going on, he told her she
will have to live with it. He insisted on his being able to continue his
affair and continue his marriage and he used force to try to keep her in
line. This has happened to people in real life. She also saw this side of him
before when he forced a man to sell them their new home by his scaring that
man into selling it to them.

<< Slim gets discouraging advice from a lawyer ("There is nothing you can do.
 He will win."). And then she gets training in self-defense from a martial
 arts instructor. Both of these characters are African-American, following
 the movie's simplistic moral color-coding. The day when the evil husband is
 black and the self-defense instructor is white will not arrive in our
 lifetimes.>>

Last time I checked, Chuck Norris was white and he acted as a self-defense
instructor. She gets crucially important financial help from her father, who
is white. The fact that her father is white makes her bi-racial and at least
half white. Her father also found the African-American self-defense
instructor who effectively shows her how to fight back.

<< Jennifer Lopez is one of my favorite actresses, but not here, where the
 dialogue requires her to be passionate and overwrought in a way that is
 simply not believable >>

It was believable to me. I enjoyed this move, as did the audience who saw it
with me. This extremely well made film with a first-rate cast is a lot of
escapist fun.


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------------------------------

Date: 31 May 2002 18:16:02 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] THE SUM OF ALL FEARS / ***1/2 (PG-13)

THE SUM OF ALL FEARS / ***1/2 (PG-13)

May 31, 2002

Jack Ryan:    Ben Affleck
Bill Cabot:    Morgan Freeman
President Fowler:    James Cromwell
John Clark:    Liev Schreiber
Richard Dressler:    Alan Bates
Defense Sec. Becker:    Philip Baker Hall

Paramount Pictures presents a film directed by Phil Alden Robinson. Written
by Paul Attanasio and Daniel Pyne. Based on the novel by Tom Clancy. Running
time: 119 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for violence, disaster images and brief
strong language). Opening today at local theaters.

BY ROGER EBERT

Oh, for the innocent days when a movie like "The Sum of All Fears" could be
enjoyed as a "thriller." In these dark times, it is not a thriller but a
confirmer, confirming our fears that the world is headed for disaster. The
film is about the detonation of a nuclear device in an American city. No
less an authority than Warren Buffet recently gave a speech in which he
flatly stated that such an event was "inevitable." Movies like "Black
Sunday" could exorcise our fears, but this one works instead to give them
form.

To be sure, Tom Clancy's horrifying vision has been footnoted with the
obligatory Hollywood happy ending, in which world war is averted and an
attractive young couple pledge love while sitting on a blanket in the
sunshine on the White House lawn. We can walk out smiling, unless we
remember that much of Baltimore is radioactive rubble. Human nature is a
wonderful thing. The reason the ending is happy is because we in the
audience assume we'll be the two on the blanket, not the countless who've
been vaporized.

The movie is based on another of Clancy's fearfully factual stories about
Jack Ryan, the CIA agent, this time a good deal younger than Harrison Ford's
Ryan in "A Clear and Present Danger" and played by Ben Affleck. It follows
the ancient convention in which the hero goes everywhere important and
personally performs most of the crucial actions, but it feels less contrived
because Clancy has expertise about warfare and national security issues; the
plot is a device to get us from one packet of information to another.

The story: In 1973, an Israeli airplane carrying a nuclear bomb crashes in
Syria. Many years later, the unexploded bomb is dug up, goes on the black
market, and is sold to a right-wing fanatic who has a theory: "Hitler was
stupid. He fought America and Russia, instead of letting them fight one
another." The fanatic's plan is to start a nuclear exchange between the
superpowers, after which Aryan fascists would pick up the pieces.

The use of the neo-Nazis is politically correct: Best to invent villains who
won't offend any audiences. This movie can play in Syria, Saudi Arabia and
Iraq without getting walkouts. It's more likely that if a bomb ever does go
off in a big city, the perpetrators will be True Believers whose certainty
about the next world gives them, they think, the right to kill us in this
one.

In the film, Ryan becomes a sort of unofficial protege of Bill Cabot (Morgan
Freeman), a high-level CIA official and good guy who maintains a "back
channel" into the Kremlin to avoid just such misunderstandings as occur.
Ryan and Cabot fly to Moscow when a new president assumes power, and the new
Soviet leader (Ciaran Hinds) is shown as a reasonable man who must take
unreasonable actions (like invading Chechnya) to placate the militarists in
his government.

America is being run by President Fowler (tall, Lincolnesque James
Cromwell), who is surrounded by advisors cast with some of the most
convincing character actors in the movies: Philip Baker Hall, Alan Bates,
Bruce McGill, etc. Crucial scenes take place aboard Air Force One after
Baltimore has been bombed, and we see the president and his cabinet not in
cool analytical discussions but all shouting at once. Somehow I am reassured
by the notion that our leaders might be really upset at such a time; anyone
who can be dispassionate about nuclear war is probably able to countenance
one.

There are some frightening special effects in the movie, which I will not
describe, because their unexpected appearance has such an effect. There are
also several parallel story lines, including one involving a particularly
skilled dirty tricks specialist named John Clark (Liev Schreiber) who I am
glad to have on our side. There are also the usual frustrations in which the
man with the truth can't get through because of bureaucracy.

Against these strengths are some weaknesses. I think Jack Ryan's one-man
actions in post-bomb Baltimore are unlikely and way too well-timed. I doubt
he would find evildoers still hanging around the scene of their crime. I am
not sure all of the threads--identifying the plutonium, finding the shipping
manifest and invoice, tracking down the guy who dug up the bomb--could take
place with such gratifying precision. And I smile wearily at the necessity
of supplying Jack with a girlfriend (Bridget Moynahan), who exists only so
that she can (1) be impatient when he is called away from dates on official
business; (2) disbelieve his alibis; (3) be heroic; (4) be worried about
him; (5) be smudged with blood and dirt, and (6) populate the happy ending.
We are so aware of the character's function that we can hardly believe her
as a person.

These details are not fatal to the film. Director Phil Alden Robinson and
his writers, Paul Attanasio and Daniel Pyne, do a spellbinding job of
cranking up the tension, they create a portrait of convincing realism, and
then they add the other stuff because, well, if anybody ever makes a movie
like this without the obligatory Hollywood softeners, audiences might flee
the theater in despair. My own fear is that in the post-apocalyptic future,
"The Sum of All Fears" will be seen as touchingly optimistic.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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Date: 31 May 2002 18:15:48 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] LATE MARRIAGE / *** (Not rated)

LATE MARRIAGE / *** (Not rated)

May 31, 2002

Zaza: Lior Loui Ashkenazi
Judith: Ronit Elkabetz
Yasha (father): Moni Moshonov
Lily (mother): Lili Kosashvili
Ilana: Aya Steinovits Laor
Transfax Film Productions presents a film written and directed by Dover
Kosashvili. In Hebrew and Georgian with English subtitles. Running time: 100
minutes. No MPAA rating. Opening today at the Music Box Theatre.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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Date: 01 Jun 2002 17:20:55 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] THE SUM OF ALL FEARS / ***1/2 (PG-13)

THE SUM OF ALL FEARS / ***1/2 (PG-13)

May 31, 2002

Jack Ryan:    Ben Affleck
Bill Cabot:    Morgan Freeman
President Fowler:    James Cromwell
John Clark:    Liev Schreiber
Richard Dressler:    Alan Bates
Defense Sec. Becker:    Philip Baker Hall

Paramount Pictures presents a film directed by Phil Alden Robinson. Written
by Paul Attanasio and Daniel Pyne. Based on the novel by Tom Clancy. Running
time: 119 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for violence, disaster images and brief
strong language). Opening today at local theaters.

BY ROGER EBERT

Oh, for the innocent days when a movie like "The Sum of All Fears" could be
enjoyed as a "thriller." In these dark times, it is not a thriller but a
confirmer, confirming our fears that the world is headed for disaster. The
film is about the detonation of a nuclear device in an American city. No
less an authority than Warren Buffet recently gave a speech in which he
flatly stated that such an event was "inevitable." Movies like "Black
Sunday" could exorcise our fears, but this one works instead to give them
form.

To be sure, Tom Clancy's horrifying vision has been footnoted with the
obligatory Hollywood happy ending, in which world war is averted and an
attractive young couple pledge love while sitting on a blanket in the
sunshine on the White House lawn. We can walk out smiling, unless we
remember that much of Baltimore is radioactive rubble. Human nature is a
wonderful thing. The reason the ending is happy is because we in the
audience assume we'll be the two on the blanket, not the countless who've
been vaporized.

The movie is based on another of Clancy's fearfully factual stories about
Jack Ryan, the CIA agent, this time a good deal younger than Harrison Ford's
Ryan in "A Clear and Present Danger" and played by Ben Affleck. It follows
the ancient convention in which the hero goes everywhere important and
personally performs most of the crucial actions, but it feels less contrived
because Clancy has expertise about warfare and national security issues; the
plot is a device to get us from one packet of information to another.

The story: In 1973, an Israeli airplane carrying a nuclear bomb crashes in
Syria. Many years later, the unexploded bomb is dug up, goes on the black
market, and is sold to a right-wing fanatic who has a theory: "Hitler was
stupid. He fought America and Russia, instead of letting them fight one
another." The fanatic's plan is to start a nuclear exchange between the
superpowers, after which Aryan fascists would pick up the pieces.

The use of the neo-Nazis is politically correct: Best to invent villains who
won't offend any audiences. This movie can play in Syria, Saudi Arabia and
Iraq without getting walkouts. It's more likely that if a bomb ever does go
off in a big city, the perpetrators will be True Believers whose certainty
about the next world gives them, they think, the right to kill us in this
one.

In the film, Ryan becomes a sort of unofficial protege of Bill Cabot (Morgan
Freeman), a high-level CIA official and good guy who maintains a "back
channel" into the Kremlin to avoid just such misunderstandings as occur.
Ryan and Cabot fly to Moscow when a new president assumes power, and the new
Soviet leader (Ciaran Hinds) is shown as a reasonable man who must take
unreasonable actions (like invading Chechnya) to placate the militarists in
his government.

America is being run by President Fowler (tall, Lincolnesque James
Cromwell), who is surrounded by advisors cast with some of the most
convincing character actors in the movies: Philip Baker Hall, Alan Bates,
Bruce McGill, etc. Crucial scenes take place aboard Air Force One after
Baltimore has been bombed, and we see the president and his cabinet not in
cool analytical discussions but all shouting at once. Somehow I am reassured
by the notion that our leaders might be really upset at such a time; anyone
who can be dispassionate about nuclear war is probably able to countenance
one.

There are some frightening special effects in the movie, which I will not
describe, because their unexpected appearance has such an effect. There are
also several parallel story lines, including one involving a particularly
skilled dirty tricks specialist named John Clark (Liev Schreiber) who I am
glad to have on our side. There are also the usual frustrations in which the
man with the truth can't get through because of bureaucracy.

Against these strengths are some weaknesses. I think Jack Ryan's one-man
actions in post-bomb Baltimore are unlikely and way too well-timed. I doubt
he would find evildoers still hanging around the scene of their crime. I am
not sure all of the threads--identifying the plutonium, finding the shipping
manifest and invoice, tracking down the guy who dug up the bomb--could take
place with such gratifying precision. And I smile wearily at the necessity
of supplying Jack with a girlfriend (Bridget Moynahan), who exists only so
that she can (1) be impatient when he is called away from dates on official
business; (2) disbelieve his alibis; (3) be heroic; (4) be worried about
him; (5) be smudged with blood and dirt, and (6) populate the happy ending.
We are so aware of the character's function that we can hardly believe her
as a person.

These details are not fatal to the film. Director Phil Alden Robinson and
his writers, Paul Attanasio and Daniel Pyne, do a spellbinding job of
cranking up the tension, they create a portrait of convincing realism, and
then they add the other stuff because, well, if anybody ever makes a movie
like this without the obligatory Hollywood softeners, audiences might flee
the theater in despair. My own fear is that in the post-apocalyptic future,
"The Sum of All Fears" will be seen as touchingly optimistic.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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[ movies" (without the quotes) to [e-mail]          ]

------------------------------

Date: 01 Jun 2002 17:21:08 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] STAR WARS -- EPISODE 2: ATTACK OF THE CLONES / ** (PG)

STAR WARS -- EPISODE 2: ATTACK OF THE CLONES / ** (PG)

May 10, 2002

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Ewan McGregor
Senator Padme Amidala: Natalie Portman
Anakin Skywalker: Hayden Christensen

Twentieth Century Fox presents a film directed by George Lucas. Produced by
Rick McGallum. Written by George Lucas and Jonathan Hales. Photographed by
David Tattersall. Edited by Ben Burtt. Music by John Williams. Running time:
142 minutes. Classified PG (for sustained sequences of sci-fi
action/violence).

BY ROGER EBERT

It is not what's there on the screen that disappoints me, but what's not
there. It is easy to hail the imaginative computer images that George Lucas
brings to "Star Wars: Episode II--Attack of the Clones." To marvel at his
strange new aliens and towering cities and sights such as thousands of
clones all marching in perfect ranks into a huge spaceship. To see the
beginnings of the dark side in young Anakin Skywalker. All of those
experiences are there to be cheered by fans of the "Star Wars" series, and
for them this movie will affirm their faith.

But what about the agnostic viewer? The hopeful ticket buyer walking in not
as a cultist, but as a moviegoer hoping for a great experience? Is this
"Star Wars" critic-proof and scoff-resistant? Yes, probably, at the box
office. But as someone who admired the freshness and energy of the earlier
films, I was amazed, at the end of "Episode II," to realize that I had not
heard one line of quotable, memorable dialogue. And the images, however
magnificently conceived, did not have the impact they deserved. I'll get to
them in a moment.

The first hour of "Episode II" contains a sensational chase through the
skyscraper canyons of a city, and assorted briefer shots of space ships and
planets. But most of that first hour consists of dialogue, as the characters
establish plot points, update viewers on what has happened since "Episode
I," and debate the political crisis facing the Republic. They talk and talk
and talk. And their talk is in a flat utilitarian style: They seem more like
lawyers than the heroes of a romantic fantasy.

In the classic movie adventures that inspired "Star Wars," dialogue was
often colorful, energetic, witty and memorable. The dialogue in "Episode II"
exists primarily to advance the plot, provide necessary information, and
give a little screen time to continuing characters who are back for a new
episode. The only characters in this stretch of the film who have inimitable
personal styles are the beloved Yoda and the hated Jar-Jar Binks, whose
idiosyncrasies turned off audiences for "Phantom Menace." Yes, Jar-Jar's
accent may be odd and his mannerisms irritating, but at least he's a unique
individual and not a bland cipher. The other characters--Obi-Wan Kenobi,
Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker--seem so strangely stiff and formal in their
speech that an unwary viewer might be excused for thinking they were the
clones, soon to be exposed.

Too much of the rest of the film is given over to a romance between Padme
and Anakin in which they're incapable of uttering anything other than the
most basic and weary romantic cliches, while regarding each other as if love
was something to be endured rather than cherished. There is not a romantic
word they exchange that has not long since been reduced to cliche.

No, wait: Anakin tells Padme at one point: "I don't like the sand. It's
coarse and rough and irritating--not like you. You're soft and smooth." I
hadn't heard that before.

When it comes to the computer-generated images, I feel that I cannot
entirely trust the screening experience I had. I could see that in
conception many of these sequences were thrilling and inventive. I liked the
planet of rain, and the vast coliseum in which the heroes battle strange
alien beasts, and the towering Senate chamber, and the secret factory where
clones were being manufactured.

But I felt like I had to lean with my eyes toward the screen in order to see
what I was being shown. The images didn't pop out and smack me with delight,
the way they did in earlier films. There was a certain fuzziness, an
indistinctness that seemed to undermine their potential power.

Later I went on the Web to look at the trailers for the movie, and was
startled to see how much brighter, crisper and more colorful they seemed on
my computer screen than in the theater. Although I know that video images
are routinely timed to be brighter than movie images, I suspect another
reason for this. "Episode II" was shot entirely on digital video. It is
being projected in digital video on 19 screens, but on some 3,000 others,
audiences will see it as I did, transferred to film.

How it looks in digital projection I cannot say, although I hope to get a
chance to see it that way. I know Lucas believes it looks better than film,
but then he has cast his lot with digital. My guess is that the film version
of "Episode II" might jump more sharply from the screen in a small multiplex
theater. But I saw it on the largest screen in Chicago, and my suspicion is,
the density and saturation of the image were not adequate to imprint the
image there in a forceful way.

Digital images contain less information than 35mm film images, and the more
you test their limits, the more you see that. Two weeks ago I saw "Patton"
shown in 70mm Dimension 150, and it was the most astonishing projection I
had ever seen--absolute detail on a giant screen, which was 6,000 times
larger than a frame of the 70mm film. That's what large-format film can do,
but it's a standard Hollywood has abandoned (except for IMAX), and we are
being asked to forget how good screen images can look--to accept the
compromises. I am sure I will hear from countless fans who assure me that
"Episode II" looks terrific, but it does not. At least, what I saw did not.
It may look great in digital projection on multiplex-size screens, and I'm
sure it will look great on DVD, but on a big screen it lacks the authority
it needs.

I have to see the film again to do it justice. I'm sure I will greatly enjoy
its visionary sequences on DVD; I like stuff like that. The dialogue is
another matter. Perhaps because a movie like this opens everywhere in the
world on the same day, the dialogue has to be dumbed down for easier dubbing
or subtitling. Wit, poetry and imagination are specific to the languages
where they originate, and although translators can work wonders, sometimes
you get the words but not the music. So it's safer to avoid the music.

But in a film with a built-in audience, why not go for the high notes? Why
not allow the dialogue to be inventive, stylish and expressive?

There is a certain lifelessness in some of the acting, perhaps because the
actors were often filmed in front of blue screens so their environments
could be added later by computer. Actors speak more slowly than they
might--flatly, factually, formally, as if reciting. Sometimes that reflects
the ponderous load of the mythology they represent. At other times it simply
shows that what they have to say is banal. "Episode II-- Attack of the
Clones" is a technological exercise that lacks juice and delight. The title
is more appropriate than it should be.

Copyright ⌐ Chicago Sun-Times Inc.

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Date: 07 Jun 2002 18:10:55 GMT
From: [e-mail]
Subject: [MV] BAD COMPANY / ** (PG-13)

BAD COMPANY / ** (PG-13)

June 7, 2002

Gaylord Oakes: Anthony Hopkins
Jake Hayes: Chris Rock
Dragan Adjanic: Matthew Marsh
Seale: Gabriel Macht
Julie: Kerry Washington
Jarma: Adoni Maropis
Nicole: Garcelle Beauvais-Nilon
Touchstone Pictures presents a film directed by Joel Schumacher. Written by
Jason Richman, Michael Browning, Gary Goodman and David Himmelstein. Running
time: 111 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for intense sequences of violent action,
some sensuality and language).

BY ROGER EBERT

Hard on the heels of "The Sum of All Fears," here's Jerry Bruckheimer's "Bad
Company," another movie about an American city threatened by the explosion
of a stolen nuclear device. This one is an action comedy. There may come a
day when the smiles fade. To be sure, the movie was made before 9/11 (and
its original autumn 2001 release was delayed for obvious reasons), but even
before 9/11 it was clear that nuclear terrorism was a real possibility.
While "The Sum of all Fears" deals in a quasi-serious way with the subject
(up until the astonishingly inappropriate ending), "Bad Company" is more
light-hearted. Ho, ho.

The nuclear device is really only the McGuffin. It could be anything, as
long as bad guys want it and good guys fight to keep them from it. The
movie's a collision between three durable genres: Misfit Partners, Fish Out
of Water and Mistaken Identity. After an opening scene in which the Chris
Rock character is killed, we learn that he had a twin brother named Jake
Hayes; the babies were separated at birth and never knew about each other.
The first was adopted by a rich family, went to Ivy League schools, and
joined the CIA. Jake is a ticket scalper and chess hustler who's in love
with a nursing student (Kerry Washington).

One problem with the movie, directed by Joel Schumacher, is that it jams too
many prefabricated story elements into the running time. Consider the
training sequence, in which Rock has nine days to perfect the mannerisms and
absorb the knowledge of his dead brother. Odd that most of the coaching
sessions have him learning to recognize fine vintages of wine and evaluate
ancient cognacs; is he going to be dining with the terrorists? Meanwhile,
he's apparently expected to learn to speak Czech from a dictionary tossed
onto his bunk.

His minder at the CIA is Gaylord Oakes (Anthony Hopkins), a spookily calm
veteran operative whose plan is to substitute this twin for the other in a
sting operation designed to buy a stolen nuclear device. When another
would-be buyer enters the picture, the film descends into a series of chase
scenes, which are well enough done, but too many and too long.

Hopkins plays his character right down the middle, hard-edged and serious.
Rock has some effective scenes played straight, but at other times he goes
into a nonstop comic monologue that is funny, yes, but unlikely; when he's
being shot at, how can he think of all those one-liners? The movie's
strategy is to make every sequence stand on its own, with no thought to the
overall tone of the film, so that we go from the deadly serious to something
approaching parody.

Of the plot I can say nothing, except that it exists entirely at the whim of
the stunts, special effects, chases and action. The two competing teams of
would-be evil bomb buyers function entirely to supply an endless number of
guys who fire machineguns a lot but hardly ever hit anything. The motive for
blowing up New York is scarcely discussed. And could I believe my eyes? Here
in 2002--another Red Digital Readout counting down to zero, just when I
thought that was one cliche that had finally outlived its viability.

As for the girls, well, Kerry Washington is sweet and believable as Rock's
girlfriend, but a Bruckheimer movie is not the place to look for meaningful
female performances. No doubt there was a nice payday, but meanwhile
Washington's fine performance in "Lift," the shoplifting film from Sundance
2001, goes unreleased. Even more thankless is the role by Garcelle
Beauvais-Nilon as a CNN correspondent who was the girlfriend of the first
twin, and spots this one because he kisses differently. She disappears
entirely from the film after an ironically appropriate slide down a laundry
chute. (By the way: During the shoot-out in that hotel, how come not a
single guest or employee is ever seen?)

I won't tell you I didn't enjoy parts of "Bad Company," because I did. But
the enjoyment came at moments well-separated by autopilot action scenes and
stunt sequences that outlived their interest. As for the theme of a nuclear
device that might destroy New York, I have a feeling that after this
generation of pre-9/11 movies plays out, we won't be seeing it much anymore.

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