All Over the Guy (2001)

**/****
starring Dan Bucatinsky, Richard Ruccolo, Adam Goldberg, Sasha Alexander
screenplay by Dan Bucatinsky
directed by Julie Davis

Allovertheguyby Walter Chaw Produced by Don Roos, the man behind the intelligent interpersonal dynamics of Bounce and The Opposite of Sex, Julie Davis’s film All Over the Guy is based on a Dan Bucatinsky one-act stage play, and it never quite breaks free of its theatrical roots. All Over the Guy is a rapid-fire, talk-driven, inverted sitcom that promotes gay friends to the forefront and pushes their hetero pals into the background–a film that admirably attempts to demystify a homosexual relationship by taking parts originally written for a man and a woman and giving them to two men. Ironically, in attacking the stereotypes reserved for the homosexual community, it endorses the stereotypes of the light romantic comedy, making All Over the Guy the first gay-themed indie as predictable and unlikely as any soupy Nora Ephron fantasy.

The Deep End (2001)

**/****
starring Tilda Swinton, Goran Visnjic, Jonathan Tucker, Peter Donat
screenplay by Scott McGehee & David Siegel, based on the short story “The Blank Wall” by Elisabeth Sanxay Holding
directed by McGehee & Siegel

by Walter Chaw There is a moment at the very beginning of Scott McGehee and David Siegel’s The Deep End wherein our maternal heroine Margaret Hall (Tilda Swinton) fills in a crossword puzzle line with “glacier.” It is an early clue to Margaret’s glacial temperament, the cool blue colour suffusions that dominate the film’s lighting schemes, and, unfortunately, the feeling of icy detachment one experiences during the course of the film. The Deep End is neither a noir nor a Hitchcockian thriller, but rather a somewhat conventional, vaguely derivative Mildred Pierce-ian estrogen melodrama that plays a lot like a Lifetime bodice-ripper written by David Mamet. It is essentially a lifeless version of Blood Simple, complete with misunderstandings, extortion, and a hide-the-corpse intrigue inspired by the urge to protect a loved one. Not to say The Deep End is a bad film, exactly, rather it’s a forgettable one that is remarkable only for its almost complete lack of distinction.

Bread and Tulips (2000)

Pane e tulipani
**/****
starring Felice Andreasi, Vitalba Andrea, Tatiana Lepore, Ludovico Paladin
screenplay by Silvio Soldini & Doriana Leondeff
directed by Silvio Soldini

Breadandtulipsby Walter Chaw There are great chunks missing from Bread and Tulips, story transitions that appear inconsequential until one finds them neglected. An action is announced and several scenes later we are left to presume that the action has been performed; an event occurs and several scenes later we give up waiting for the reaction. Nowhere is that discrepancy more jarring than at the conclusion, when our heroine is spirited away from her family and loved ones and deposited in the middle of a different movie. There is a considerable problem with a film that insists on holding your hand through score or ham-handed direction; on the flipside, there is a considerable problem with one that discards basic narrative cohesion in favour of a calculated whimsy. A film like Bread and Tulips.

Apocalypse Now Redux (1979/2001)

Apocalypse Now
****/****
starring Marlon Brando, Robert Duvall, Martin Sheen, Frederic Forrest
screenplay by John Milius and Francis Coppola, narration by Michael Herr
directed by Francis Coppola

by Walter Chaw Taking his cue from Orson Welles’s aborted screen translation of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now sought to transplant Marlow’s journey down the Congo in pursuit of mad ivory trader Kurtz to Vietnam during the war. America’s involvement in Southeast Asia is, of course, a good fit with what Conrad calls “one of the dark places of the world,” and Apocalypse Now, easily one of the most literary big-budget blockbusters of the modern era, is utterly faithful to the intellectual and visceral impact of Conrad’s vision. Apocalypse Now is so overheated and pretentious, in fact, that the best way to explain its thematic core might be through an examination of the ways it uses three T.S. Eliot poems (The Wasteland, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, The Hollow Men) and nods obliquely towards a fourth (The Dry Salvages, which refers to the animalism of rivers as the “brown god”).

The Others (2001)

***½/****
starring Nicole Kidman, Elaine Cassidy, Christopher Eccleston, Fionnula Flanagan
written and directed by Alejandro Amenábar

by Walter Chaw The Others is an intricate character drama that takes turns shifting its suspicions on any number of scenarios and suspects. It subtly considers each of its small troupe of players as alternately worthy of mistrust, and its fantastic cast is more than equal to director Alejandro Amenábar’s quiet attributions of innocence and diabolical attributions of wickedness. Throughout, Amenábar maintains the unnerving possibility that, despite the spectre of a hoax or a plot ever-looming in the sometimes-inexplicable actions of one or more of its characters, something paranormal might, in fact, be at work.

Greenfingers (2001)

*/****
starring Clive Owen, Helen Mirren, David Kelly, Natasha Little
written and directed by Joel Hershman

by Walter Chaw A disturbingly optimistic (and particularly unlikely) redemption fable from Britain that marries the bare blue-collar buttocks of The Full Monty with the spunky seniors of Waking Ned Devine and Saving Grace, Joel Hershman’s Greenfingers is less “inspired by a true story,” as its title cards suggest, than it is “slavishly devoted to formula.” Greenfingers is so entrenched in provincialism that it encourages American audiences to chuckle knowingly at the staid peculiarities of the English–and so dedicated to soft-pedalling dangerous criminals that it reveals itself as preachy and pernicious. It is the type of film that treats anyone with the audacity to question the wisdom of allowing murderers and rapists to serve out their sentences with no guards around and in the company of young women driving Rolls-Royces as the worst kind of close-minded fascist. By the twentieth time its simpleminded mantra (bringing a life into the world instead of taking one can change a hardened heart) is summoned literally and imagistically, culminating in a grotesque effigy of a fallen friend posed in the middle of an indistinct tableau, Greenfingers has lost all power to instruct and become something at once odious and unintentionally funny.

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (2001)

*½/****
starring Angelina Jolie, Daniel Craig, Leslie Phillips, Mark Collie
screenplay by Simon West and Patrick Massett & John Zinman
directed by Simon West

by Walter Chaw To say that Lara Croft: Tomb Raider is completely incomprehensible is not entirely accurate, for the basic plot appears to be pretty straightforward. The British Lara Croft (played by the American Angelina Jolie) is a sort of jet-setting archaeologist in the Indiana Jones mold who is extremely well outfitted by a gadget man in the James Bond mold, and who boasts of a loyal, shotgun-packing butler in the Batman mold. Her task is to discover two pieces of a triangular artifact before the Illuminati do on the day that a rare syzygy coincides with a solar eclipse, allowing the triangle-bearer to control time.

Shadow of the Vampire (2000)

**/****
starring John Malkovich, Willem Dafoe, Catherine McCormack, Eddie Izzard
screenplay by Steven Katz
directed by E. Elias Merhige

by Bill Chambers They certainly dressed the part in those days. As the pre-eminent German filmmaker F.W. Murnau, John Malkovich declares: “We are scientists engaged in the creation of memory.” On set, before the lamps are fired up and action is called, Murnau and his crew don tinted aviator goggles, looking as if they’re about to launch an atomic bomb. This was standard practice during cinema’s formative years, when it took an intense amount of light to satisfactorily expose an image. (It was not uncommon for those who didn’t take precautions to go blind later in life.) But Malkovich/Murnau is not describing costumes; he’s probably, in fact, speaking for the makers of the gothic comedy in which he appears as the catalyst, Shadow of the Vampire. Director E. Elias Merhige, working from a screenplay by Steven Katz, forges a new memoir of Nosferatu, Murnau’s unauthorized, silent-film-era take on Bram Stoker’s Dracula that was rumoured to star a real vampire.

The Replacements (2000)

ZERO STARS/****
starring Keanu Reeves, Gene Hackman, Brooke Langton, Jack Warden
screenplay by Vincent McKewin
directed by Howard Deutch

by Bill Chambers Did the makers of The Replacements realize that Major League had already been reinvented as a football movie, under the title Necessary Roughness? (So indiscreetly, in fact, that the former's sunglasses-wearing baseball logo was transmogrified into a sunglasses-wearing football one.) Given how many other motion pictures The Replacements–which, for what it's worth, appears to have been edited with a blender–openly (and badly) plagiarizes, I'm sure the answer is "yes." "But," they'd very possibly tell you, "our movie has Keanu Reeves and Gene Hackman. Theirs had Sinbad and Kathy Ireland."

The Kid (2000)

Disney's The Kid
**/****
starring Bruce Willis, Spencer Breslin, Emily Mortimer, Lily Tomlin
screenplay by Audrey Wells
directed by Jon Turteltaub

by Bill Chambers Hurling overwrought insults at just about everyone he meets, Russell Duritz (a dour Bruce Willis) is an image consultant with G-rated impatience for the world at large. Enter Russell, age eight (Spencer Breslin, only slightly less annoying than I had braced for)–Duritz's chubby younger self has somehow materialized to teach him a few Valuable Life Lessons. The trouble with a hyped-to-the-gills high-concept movie is, of course, that by the time we're lining up to see it, we've digested and come to terms with the central conceit–the fantasy premise is why we're there. Thus, the wait for a protagonist to accept what we already have can be excruciating, as it is here. The rest of Disney's The Kid's (so you don't mistake it for Chaplin's, I guess) concerns the two Russells trying to determine the cosmic moral behind their unlikely meeting, with both of them equally appalled by how the other lives his life. (This being Disney, the film only agrees with the younger, workaholic one.)

Titan A.E. (2000)

****/****
screenplay by Ben Edlund and John August and Joss Whedon
directed by Don Bluth & Gary Goldman

by Jarrod Chambers The true test of an animated film is whether it can make you forget that it is animated. Pixar has had great success in this regard: both Toy Story and A Bug's Life are so engrossing that I completely forgot that I was watching state-of-the-art computer animation. This was also the case with last year's The Iron Giant, and now we can add Titan A.E. to the list.

Shaft (2000)

**½/****
starring Samuel L. Jackson, Vanessa WIlliams, Jeffrey Wright, Christian Bale
screenplay by Richard Price and John Singleton & Shane Salerno
directed by John Singleton

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover Shaft is a weird combination of action drama and problem picture that never quite jells as either. Its namesake, a 1971 crime flick featuring a super-stud black private eye, barely resembles this cop-heavy, moralizing film. The updated Shaft wants to score points as both a thriller and a message movie, and only winds up defeating both purposes; nevertheless, the attempt at both is highly suggestive. The combination of the classic Shaft with an ensemble of new characters and villains is irresistible, and the performances patch over the holes in the script to create a film that, if not entirely successful, manages to give us plenty at which to look.

What Planet Are You From? (2000)

**½/****
starring Garry Shandling, Annette Bening, John Goodman, Ben Kingsley
screenplay by Garry Shandling & Michael Leeson and Ed Solomon and Peter Tolan
directed by Mike Nichols

by Bill Chambers To paint a picture of how juvenile Mike Nichols's What Planet Are You From? can get, its running gag is a humming penis. The film stoops, often, to a level of humour rarely found outside the schoolyard–or an episode of "Married With Children". Yet there's infectious sunshine in Garry Shandling's first big-screen starring vehicle that makes it difficult to begrudge its bad taste. Whatever issues I may take with What Planet Are You From? certainly have nothing to do with being offended by it.

Scream 3 (2000)

*/****
starring Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox Arquette, David Arquette, Parker Posey
screenplay by Ehren Kruger
directed by Wes Craven

by Bill Chambers Miramax "disinvited" online media from press screenings of Scream 3. They ostensibly feared that folks like me would write spoiler-filled reviews and post them prior to the film's February 4th release date–unsound reasoning. You see, 'net critics established enough to be on any sort of VIP list are professionals–Miramax surely knows the difference between an upstanding member of The On-Line Film Critics Society (OFCS) and the type of fanboy who submits spy reports to Ain't It Cool News. No, the 'mini major' was afraid we'd let a bigger cat out of the bag than whodunit: that Scream 3 is a dismal conclusion to the beloved (by this writer, at least) franchise.

Onegin (1999)

***½/****
starring Ralph Fiennes, Liv Tyler, Toby Stephens, Lena Headey
screenplay by Peter Ettedgui and Michael Ignatieff, based on the poem "Yevgeny Onegin" by Alexander Pushkin
directed by Martha Fiennes

by Bill Chambers "When will the devil take me?" he asks rhetorically in a lulling voiceover. The spoiled title character of Onegin (pronounced Oh-negg-in) is waiting on death to relieve him after a lifetime of rapacious, caddish behaviour has left him soul-sick. Martha Fiennes's debut feature is–quite literally–filmed poetry (it's based on the epic Russian poem by Alexander Pushkin), a profound study of regret, of how we confuse shame with guilt.

Music of the Heart (1999)

**/****
starring Meryl Streep, Angela Bassett, Aidan Quinn, Jane Leeves
screenplay by Pamela Gray
directed by Wes Craven

by Bill Chambers I should start this review by telling you how much I hate the generic title Music of the Heart. Wes Craven's bid for prestige was more evocatively (and appropriately) called 50 Violins in development, and the switch only proves how far distributor Miramax has strayed from its edgier roots. Almost as infuriating is the positioning of an 'N Sync/Gloria Estafan duet as Music of the Heart's theme song: a nigh unlistenable ballad opens and closes a film about music appreciation.

The Muse (1999)

**/****
starring Albert Brooks, Sharon Stone, Andie MacDowell, Jeff Bridges
screenplay by Albert Brooks & Monica Johnson
directed by Albert Brooks

by Bill Chambers Albert Brooks's latest alter ego Stephen Phillips doesn't have writer's block, per se–he's artistically impotent. Only a week after winning a humanitarian award for his body of work, Stephen suffers at the hands of a young pup executive who pans his latest script (it's not edgy enough) and voids his contract with the studio. Jack (Jeff Bridges, deliciously arrogant), Stephen's successful screenwriter friend, suggests he seek out the inspiration of Sarah (Sharon Stone), an alleged "muse for hire." Sarah once rekindled Jack's creative fire; a desperate Stephen suspends his disbelief in her powers and begs for her counsel, even if it means having to shower her with gifts from Tiffany's, rent her a $1500/night room at the Four Seasons, and be at her beck and call. Meanwhile, Laura (Andie MacDowell), Stephen's wife, becomes chummy with Sarah over an expensive lunch and soon decides to start a cookie business, something along the lines of Famous Amos or Mrs. Fields. Long before Stephen finishes a new, edgier script, Wolfgang Puck–another of Sarah's Hollywood clients–is throwing Laura a party at Spago in honour of her baked goods.

Arlington Road (1999)

*½/****
starring Jeff Bridges, Tim Robbins, Joan Cusack, Hope Davis
screenplay by Ehren Kruger
directed by Mark Pellington

by Bill Chambers Wrote Josh Young, in issue #493 of ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: "With studios now viewing the mid-level, Oscar-nominated directors as a luxury they can no longer afford, established auteurs…are facing increasingly stiff competition from slick young music-video turks who'll work for a mere pittance." From its galling opening sequence, I wondered what Arlington Road would look like had it been sired by someone more established in movies than the director of Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" clip. Director Mark Pellington is so mindful of 'the image' that writer Ehren Kruger's plotting eventually drops off the tightrope of credibility. Could a veteran filmmaker, comparable in status to the late Alan J. Pakula, swindle us more successfully with the same screenplay?

Wild Wild West (1999)

*/****
starring Will Smith, Kevin Kline, Kenneth Branagh, Salma Hayek
screenplay by Brent Maddock, S.S. Wilson, Peter S. Seaman, and Jeffrey Price
directed by Barry Sonnenfeld

by Bill Chambers If you don't think Kevin Kline in drag is funny, wait 'til you see Will Smith in drag–it's even less funny. By the time Jim West (Smith) had disguised himself as a belly dancer to retrieve his captured comrade Artemus Gordon (Kline) from the clutches of evil Dr. Loveless (Kenneth Branagh), I was unequivocally bored with Wild Wild West, the new summer action-comedy from Men in Black director Barry Sonnenfeld. Is the Old West really a breeding ground for slapstick, anyway? If your answer is yes, you're probably thinking of Blazing Saddles, but Blazing Saddles was a parody of the western genre that also satirized the social climate of 1974, not a nineteenth-century romp in and of itself.

Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace (1999)

This one's pretty rough, folks; mea culpa. Reprinted for posterity and completism, since Walter reviewed the other two. Some minor edits made for clarity.-BC

**/****
starring Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, Natalie Potrtman, Jake Lloyd
written and directed by George Lucas

by Bill Chambers Forgoing my typical formula in an effort to write something that stands out from the pack. I can't promise not to spoil anything, but I will do my best to avoid giving too much away.