Spike Lee's Kickstarter campaign!

Spike Lee's Kickstarter campaign!

By Jerry Saravia

Spike Lee recently started a Kickstarter campaign to receive completion funds (1.25 million) to finance his new film, "Da Blood of Jesus," a film about people addicted to blood (this may or may not be a vampire film). Check out my thoughts below on Lee's campaign and other notable Kickstarter campaigns, some which may make your hair curl!

Radically dull John Waters

CECIL B. DEMENTED (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(originally written in 2001)

I am not sure what to make of John Waters at this point. The witty Baltimore trash director who opened the world's eyes with the fabulously disgusting "Pink Flamingos" has followed that hit with more lows than highs. For every "Hairspray" and "Serial Mom," there were travesties to cinematic decency such as "Cry-Baby" and "Pecker." "Cecil B. Demented" shows me a director who is sinking to such a low extreme that I found myself trying to come up for air repeatedly.

Cecil B. Demented (Stephen Dorff) is a no-budget film director/cult leader who along with his crew, known as the "Sprocket Holes," kidnap a famous movie star, Honey Whitlock (Melanie Griffith), and force her to star in their own demented production. Cecil's intent is to shoot a film titled "Raging Beauty" about outlaw filmmakers who bust in and out of multiplexes, production meetings and more multiplexes to proclaim their rant that Hollywood, basically, sucks! Their hostage, Honey with a peroxide hairdo, will help them fight their cause by threatening everyone with a gun and ranting their philosophies such as "Death to those who support mainstream cinema!"

"The Sprocket Holes" are a motley crew of punkish, insufferably smug character types that include Cherish (Alicia Witt), an incest victim who is also a former porno star; a drug addict named Lyle (Adrienne Grenier) who consumes all substances and plays the leading man in Demented's film, and Rodney (Jack Noseworthy), the hair stylist who hates being heterosexual. There is also a makeup artist, Raven (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a Satanic worshipper who adores Kenneth Anger and Aleister Crowley, and a butch female cinematographer and producer, and so on. None of these characters elicit much interest or inspiration. They come across as flat caricatures.

In the end, that may be the problem with John Waters. His last excruciating film, "Pecker", was so flatly staged that it induced boredom more than anything else. There is no drive, no energy, no real sense of movement in this film either. You get the sense that Waters only filmed one take of every scene with no punch or irony. Of course, none of that would matter if the film was funny but it is decidedly not. The fundamental question is: who is Waters really attacking in this film? It may seem like Hollywood but that is a moot point when you consider savagely funny satires such as "The Player", "Living in Oblivion" and "My Life's in Turnaround," to name but a few. Also consider how in the last few years, independent films have become almost as mainstream as Hollywood. Has Waters heard of Miramax, which is literally Hollywood in the East Coast, the same company that produced "The English Patient"? The term "indie" has been abused so often that the line between Hollywood and independent is very thin. And what company has produced Waters latest? Well, it is Artisan Entertainment, the same company that puts its label on a new video edition of Schwarzeneger's "The Terminator"!

"Cecil B. Demented" is simply not demented enough or savage enough to really attack its targets and so as satire, it fails miserably. The actors shout and rant but with little purpose or ingenuity. The film ends with a crowd forming around the drive-in showing of Honey's last Hollywood opus while Cecil and his demented group go around having sex with each other while the cops shoot at them. It may seem radical but I would call it desperate at best.

J Lost in her own Ghost World

MY FIRST MISTER (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Leelee Sobieski has an earthy, ethereal presence that makes you fall in love with her. She has narrowly shaped-eyes that can see what you are really thinking, and you feel wrong to tell her anything but the truth. Sobieski is perfectly cast in "My First Mister," and yet she is miscast. How can this be? I am not sure but the last thing I'd ever expect her to play is a Goth chick who scribbles endless versions of her own eulogy. She is not Goth the way that Fairuza Balk would be and has been. There is something deeply disturbing and irksome about Sobieski in this film and yet something soulful and serene about her. Putting it midly, she is the star of the show.

Sobieski plays Jennifer, or "J" as she prefers, a cynical, misunderstood and misunderstanding teenage girl who listens to punk rock music, writes poetic phrases about death (and pricks her finger to make bloody marks on the pages), dresses in black, has dozens of piercings (though not on any private parts), and wears her hair in shades of black and purple. She despises her mother (Carol Kane) for being so blandly happy, dismisses her stepfather (Michael McKean), hates her real father, a stoner (John Goodman), and basically feels alienated from her high school peers and teachers (she even imagines a teacher with fangs snarling at her). Who can this girl relate to?

One fine day, after getting fired from her job, she meets a meek, anal retentive man named Randall (Albert Brooks) who owns a clothing store at the local mall. She tries to get a job at the store and he dismisses her. Slowly, though, after making crude remarks about his beer belly, they develop an unusual friendship based on mutual needs. Both of them are loners and they begin to know each other intimately. Randall sees a forlorn teenager who needs someone to listen to her. Jennifer sees Randall as a man who cannot relate to anyone based on fear of people, and who would rather settle for an evening reading a magazine than having a conversation. They open their eyes to each other's faults and misgivings about people in their lives, including lovers, ex-wives, and crazy parents.

"My First Mister" is nothing new but it has a stunningly good premise. A punk rock teenager who could get her "eyeballs pierced" sharing small talk with a straight-as-an-arrow store manager is ripe for good laughs, and I do mean as comedic material. Of course, opposites do attract but, in the real world, it is unlikely such a union could take place (or maybe I do not get out much at the local malls). I had a hard time believing that this could develop into a relationship beyond sharing small talk, and I think I was right. First-time director Christine Lahti (who won an Academy Award for a short film she directed) directs everything in the first hour with ease and just enough pizazz to make us wonder where this strange relationship will go. Unfortunately, as with most similar tales, it takes a route headed into that deadly maudlin road where forgiveness is possible and people can change 180 degrees from their initial behavior. Let's consider Jennifer for a moment - she talks about killing herself and she wounds herself with sharp objects. Randall notices all this so the logical solution would be that Jennifer needs help, or is merely crying for help. Or she is just a rebel without a cause? A goth chick who makes a mockery out of any and everyone suddenly warms up to Randall because he is so lonely? Something doesn't quite click here. Either A.) Make Jennifer just a hopeless rebel goth chick who has a talent for poetry and needs to belong to something or B.) Make her a mental case who needs help fast. Both ideas coincide uneasily and the problem with this kind of screenwriting is that it assumes the audience has amnesia. The Jennifer at the start of the film and at the end of the film seem to be two different people.

And surprisingly enough, "My First Mister" warrants a viewing because of Leelee Sobieski. No matter how many left turns the script takes, Leelee stole my heart and made me wish her character would better her life (the scene where she reconciles with her mother, though, left a lot to be desired). I would have eliminated the character of Randall's son completely, and focused on other aspects of Randall (like his relationship with the nurse played by Mary Kay Place). Anything but the son which seems to come from a different movie. Lovely Leelee and Albert Brooks make it worthwile in the long run. Still, for a movie that begins like the phenomenal "Ghost World" only to end up as a Lifetime special is pushing credibility a little too far.

Phone home to 1982 version

E.T.: THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(original review from 2002 screening)

I am not a huge fan of sentimental fantasy movies, but there is still a special place in my heart for "E.T. - The Extra-Terrestrial," Steven Spielberg's superb fantasy movie that is now getting a digitally remastered look and some added footage. I do not agree with the changes but I will say that seeing it again in a theater (having seen it twice in theaters in 1982) confirms this as one of Spielberg's finest achievements. A soaring, spirited, marvelous film that will be remembered for ages, just like its antecedent, "The Wizard of Oz."

Living in small-town suburbia, Elliott (Henry Thomas) is the eight year old kid who discovers an alien outside his house. Slowly but surely he develops a relationship with the friendly alien who loves Reese's Pieces (the sales of that candy skyrocketed at the time of the film's release). When Elliott's older brother, Mike (Robert MacNaughton), and his young sister, Gertie (Drew Barrymore), discover the alien in Elliott's room, a sense of awe takes over, unsure of how to react to a strange looking creature with big eyes, an enormous head and an elongated neck. Naturally, Mom (Dee Wallace) is not told of the creature staying in their house.

E.T.'s mission is to get back home after being left stranded on Earth. He tries to communicate with his kind using phone wires, a saw, a turntable and an electronic spelling machine. He also learns rather quickly to talk, and is used to substitute for Gertie during Halloween! Before you know it, the deja vu sets in when government agents are looking for the alien creature to do experiments. Can Elliott convince the agents that the alien is not out to do harm, that he is as friendly as your neighborhood dog?

Spielberg described the film as a "a fairy tale for the 80's," and it is as magical and entertaining as any of Spielberg's other flights of fancy. What is most amazing is how incredibly convincing the creature is. Never for a moment is there an indication that the creature is an animatronic marvel of special effects. It probably helps that Spielberg wisely avoids showing too much of the creature. There are often close-ups of its face, its enormous eyelids, and its gnome-like feet but not too much more to notice how fake all of it is (the same holds true of Spielberg's "Jaws" where the shark was barely seen).

Since the film deals with kids, we see the world and E.T. through the kids' eyes. Every shot is usually from a low angle, and adults are always seen from such an angle. This includes the terrific sequence in the classroom where Elliott is able to feel E.T.'s emotional feelings and senses telepathically. In this sequence, the science teacher's face is not actually shown, only his hands and arms. With the exception of Elliott's mother, adults are usually seen as a threat, particularly to Elliott and E.T.

There is not much more to say about "E.T." that has not been said before. The special-edition of the film, however, leaves something to be desired. Although the film looks and sounds as great as it once was, Spielberg ought to learn from George Lucas how not to meddle with the tried and true. The CGI effects for E.T. destroy whatever was real about the creature in the first place. I remember best how the film showed E.T. gliding away from its pursuers in the opening sequence. Now he jumps up and down, and then appears tired as the spaceship takes off. It somehow looks more fake than when they used a puppet. Especially appalling is the deleted bathroom sequence where Elliott takes a bath with E.T. The creature in this scene looks far too animated as compared to later shots where it is drunk in the kitchen, bumping into objects and so on. If Spielman wanted to use CGI, he should have reanimated the creature completely or not bothered at all.

Most upsetting is the final sequence where the government agents chase E.T. and the kids on bikes with guns. Now the agents carry walkie-talkies, not guns, thanks to CGI technology. Spielberg has said this is the way the sequence was always intended. Is he serious? As with most remastered editions of classics, this results in the deletion of one essential shot. As you may recall, the kids on bikes are cornered by hundreds of agents, all holding guns. One agent holds a rifle aimed squarely at E.T. The suspense carries over, as we fear for the kids' lives. Deleting this shot ruins whatever suspense was initially there. Just because you can revamp a film with CGI effects doesn't mean you should.

Okay, and lastly, how about the line delivered by Elliott's mother to Mike? She tells him not to dress like a terrorist for Halloween. After September 11th, 2001, this line might carry more of a negative connotation than initially but this is a film from 1982. The word "terrorist" is now replaced with "hippie." Why would the mother object to him dressing like a hippie? And the terrorist angle carries weight during the suspenseful chase sequence...but since the agents do not carry guns. Oh, enough said.

Despite all deletions and changes, "E.T." is one of Spielberg's finest films, taking us from our own childhood the dream of what it would be like to have an a special visitor from another world in your bedroom. Thanks to screenwriter Melissa Mathison, the film brings us back to our childhood innocence, remembering the dreams and hopes we all had for a better future. If we can be friendly with an alien from another world, we can get along with anybody.

Garner gives the Hand the Finger

ELEKTRA (2005)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Watching Jennifer Garner in a billowing red dress wielding two dagger weapons might endear the prepubescent set but not me. Nevertheless, despite shortcomings in the script and character department, "Elektra" is not as bad as reputed to be and gets marginally better as it rolls along. It is not a Marvel adaptation to marvel home about, but it is no disaster either.

Garner plays the titled character, last seen in "Daredevil" where she was killed during combat. Now she is resurrected from the dead by her blind mentor, Stick (Terence Stamp), who had also trained Daredevil once upon a time in Marvel comic-book land. But instead of being a noble superheroine, Elektra is an assassin-for-hire, I think, though she seems to work exclusively for one agent. I also think she is hired to kill her enemies who mostly work for the Order of the Hand, a Japanese organization. The Hand is after the Treasure, and it is up to Elektra to prevent anyone from grabbing the Treasured Treasure. Prior to this underwhelmingly flimsy plot, Elektra is commissioned for a hit on her neighbors, a single father and his effusively smart daughter (played by Goran Visnjic and Kirsten Prout). Naturally, she has a Nikita conscience and chooses to save them from ninja assassins who are about to kill them as well. Whatever.

"Elektra" has its share of mediocre fight scenes, all edited with chainsaw ferocity rather than any real Zhang Zimou or Ang Lee flair. The movie has far too many plot holes (including a bare mention of Elektra's OCD) and a risible romantic subplot, though the special-effects and the supervillains are occasionally nifty. Still, the movie is all about intense close-ups of that angular face of Jennifer Garner's. I never bought her as an assassin, however, if nothing else, Garner has an electric presence on screen - she always seems adrift in her own thoughts and you can't help but wonder what she is thinking. Her face is the only thing that sizzles in "Elektra."

Ben Affleck as Daredevil?

DAREDEVIL (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

For some reason, the Marvel comic-book hero Daredevil has never been a favorite of mine. Maybe it is that red suit or the fact that he seemed more human than superhuman. Who knows. I still find Spider-Man to be the most effective superhero of all time because of his genuine flaws and the fact that he sometimes  failed (remember the death of Gwen Stacy?) Granted that Daredevil has his flaws but this big-screen version starring Ben Affleck rarely captures his humanity, and that is one of many reasons it doesn't work.

The opening sequence is promising as it details Daredevil's origins. As a kid living in Hell's Kitchen, his father, a boxer nicknamed the Devil (David Keith), is seen working for the mob. The kid is so distraught at seeing his father involved in such business that he accidentally gets sprayed with toxic chemicals. This leaves the kid with a permanent loss of sight that has enhanced his aural capabilities, to the point where traffic and other noises get raised to a high decibel level. Naturally, such capabilities help him fight neighborhood bullies, including having a sixth sense that somehow allows him to see visions in bluish color. Cut to twenty years later, Matt Murdock (Ben Affleck) is a blind lawyer by day, a superhero in tights at night. His mission is to get rid of crime in the neighborhood streets, which includes any minions working for cigar-chomping Kingpin (Michael Clarke Duncan), the resident crime boss of New York. For Kingpin to able to operate, he needs to get rid of Daredevil. He hires Bullseye (Colin Ferrell), an Irish psychopathic freak whose one novelty is being able to throw anything at an intended target without ever missing (until he runs into Daredevil). His specialty includes knives, darts, pins, playing cards and even peanuts! Don't let any swords get in his hands.

In the meantime, Matt has a fling with a limber woman named Elektra (Jennifer Garner), who is quite the super athlete, not to mention adept at the martial-arts. Unfortunately, she is on Kingpin's hit list since her father had worked for the big boss. Can Daredevil save her in time, or is Kingpin more than he bargained for?

"Daredevil" starts strong and then quickly dissipates into an empty shell of a movie. All we learn about Matt Murdock is that he is a vigilante, aiming for revenge for his father's death, and also a Catholic who goes to confession on a regular basis. As played by Affleck, there is not much more to the character and, frankly, Affleck is not capable of giving much either. There is no sense of charisma or spark to the character, and how the heck can this CGI Daredevil defy the laws of physics and gravity? He flies around town with the ease of Spider-Man - where he did acquire such superhuman strength? I thought he just had those miraculous senses! In fact, everyone in this movie defies the laws of gravity, including a completely unbelievable introductory fight scene between Elektra and Daredevil. I don't expect much believability in comic-book movies but there must be some sense of logic. It has become a cliche to copy the slow-motion CGI effects of "The Matrix" to the point of numbing repetition - how often can we see a character do a backflip in mid-air in slow-motion during a fight scene? Enough already.

If there is one aspect of "Daredevil" I truly enjoyed, it was Jennifer Garner's spunky, funny, humane performance as Elektra. She doesn't merit much screen time, but what there is enough to make me a fan (I hear that an "Elektra" movie is in the works). I have not seen her series "Alias" but I loved her brief role in "Catch Me if You Can." She has what the rest of the flatly mediocre "Daredevil" lacks: magic.

Ben Affleck as BATMAN? Rufus Sewell for your consideration

THE CAPED CRUSADER AND HIS CHASING AMY FIXATION

By Jerry Saravia

 I am so happy to now have been the only actor to play Superman and Batman

Ben Affleck never struck me as an incredibly charismatic actor, not in almost everything I've seen him do post-1990's. Affleck scored his finest performance ever in Kevin Smith's "Chasing Amy," a wonderfully humanistic performance with a fine reading of regret in his eyes when he did not (SPOILER ALERT!) get the girl. He had a bouncy comical part as an actor in "Shakespeare in Love," a nicely modulated role as a fellow Bostonian pal of Will Hunting in "Good Will Hunting," and he was tremendous and energetic as he parroted Alec Baldwin's scenery-chewing part from "Glengarry Glen Ross" in the otherwise underwhelming "Boiler Room." Then came tepid disasters with even more tepid performances in films such as "Gigli,' "Daredevil," "Surviving Christmas" (if you can make it past the first 10 minutes), "Reindeer Games" and so on ("Jersey Girl", by the way, is not as bad as its reputed to be). He has since proved himself as a film director, but not as an actor (he has actorly limits unlike his writing partner from the days of "Good Will Hunting," Matt Damon).

Warner Brothers made an announcement that Ben Affleck will play Batman in the "Man of Steel" sequel, "Batman vs. Superman." Only problem is that Affleck has a similarly identical body and similar facial, suave features as Henry Cavill, who of course will return as Superman (Man of Steel review). Nobody believe me? Do people forget that Affleck played the role of the late actor George Reeves in the film "Hollywoodland" (Reeves being the actor who played Superman in the live action series of yesteryear)? Something tells me that Christian Bale (who played the best Batman and Bruce Wayne roles) would've been more an apt choice or he might have been offered and declined (his price tag according to undetermined sources would have been 50 million dollars!) At this stage of the game, it is hard to say who could have played Batman but somebody should have chosen an actor who did not look like a duplicate of Henry Cavill - there has to be some contrast. I would have gone with Rufus Sewell myself, or maybe Bruce Campbell (now that would have been interesting).

Rufus Sewell as the Caped Crusader?

Rufus Sewell would have made a reflective contrast to Cavill's Superman. Anybody ever seen the highly underrated masterpiece, "Dark City"? Sewell went nuts as he tried to find out his identity in a world that was not what it seemed. And let's face it: any man who wears a Bat suit and parades at night in search of criminals has go to be, how can I put this, Bat-shit crazy? Sewell has eyes that bulge and that can be deeply serene and he shows his dark side beautifully, especially in "Dark City." There is something unsettling about him and that is what Batman needs from an actor (just like Christian Bale who showed the arrogance of Bruce Wayne and the fierceness of Batman).

But a lot of us may have to pause for reflection. When Michael Keaton was announced as the newest Batman in the Tim Burton film of 20-plus years ago, outrage was rampant amongst comic-book fans. The guy from "Mr. Mom" and "Beetlejuice" is going to play the Caped Crusader? I don't how many fans even care anymore when some of the most ardent fans even prefer Tim Burton's film over Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. So let's not write Affleck off completely, but let us pause for reflection and, yes, some momentary regret they didn't choose someone else. 

Slowness is the key to happiness

MONSIEUR IBRAHIM ET LES FLEURS DU CORAN (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 2003 screening)

"Monsieur Ibrahim" is the kind of film that recalls the neo-realism of the Italian cinema - it all takes place on a Parisian city street using an apartment and a grocery shop as its main focuses of action. That also means we have the typical Francois Truffaut kid of yesteryear (check out "400 Blows" as an example), the one who wants to see and live the world as an adult. There is also the gentle old man who knows the secrets to happiness, and so on. If you were a fan of "The Bicycle Thief" and "400 Blows" then, frankly, there is nothing here that would not provide an enlightening two hours of your time.

The Truffaut kid is Moses (Pierre Boulanger), a 16-year-old kid who wants a push out of his drab home. His angry father (Gilbert Melki) makes the kid wash the dishes, cook dinner and go grocery shopping. His father is so consumed by his own unhappiness (his wife had left him) that he forgets Moses's birthday, enabling the kid to make his dad remember by baking his own cake. Meanwhile, out on the Parisian streets, Moses frequents the grocery shop to talk to the owner, Monsieur Ibrahim (Omar Sharif), who knows the kid is stealing from him but he lets him get away with it, as long as he can call the kid Momo. There are also prostitutes out on the street whom Moses wants to sleep with - he uses the leftover money from the grocery store to pay for their services.

Now so far I have made no mention of Moses and Ibrahim's nationality. The simple reason is because it is irrelevant to their relationship. Having said that, Moses is Jewish and Ibrahim is Islamic and I suppose in this day and age, it is important to remember that racial boundaries do not always exists with people who need each other in some capacity (consider the American soldier and the Iraqi woman who have married recently in Iraq). Eventually, Moses's father splits, thinking he can't be a real father to his own son. The gentle Ibrahim takes Moses in, knowing all about Moses's family from the past. Ibrahim teaches the kid how to smile and how to enjoy slowness (the key to happiness) - something people in this country should start appreciating. The wise old man buys a red sports car and decides to go to his own hometown in Turkey, letting Moses tag along to discover a whole new world.

Most of "Monsieur Ibrahim" is compelling and almost magical in its depiction of a lost world we can only imagine. Most of the film is shot with a hand-held camera that allows us to watch and listen closely to its characters and their surroundings. There is a breathless moment in a church that will keep you captivated in ways only foreign films can manage to do so with sparse surroundings. My one gripe is the Parisian location - it looks like a street from a studio, not a real street in the neo-realism sense. Still, almost every shot is involving and inescapably clinging - you can't turn away from the screen.

In the latter regard, Omar Sharif has a sage-like appearance that keeps us glued to our theater seats. The 71-year-old actor, best known for "Lawrence of Arabia" and "Dr. Zhivago," has the presence and authority of a man who has lived a full life. He wishes his life were better, and that he had more money, but he knows he at least lived a life. It is the sad irony that he misses his hometown that is part of the film's heart and soul. Sharif wraps it around with his astute sense of craftiness and wittiness (as well as the twinkle in his smile) that makes this one of the better looks at old age since "About Schmidt."

The Cosby Show starring Riggs and Murtaugh

LETHAL WEAPON 4 (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Who would have thought that a decade later the "Lethal Weapon" franchise would turn into an unfunny, Cosby-like comedy about family values with some exploitative violence thrown in. Not only that, but remove all the elements that made the first three films exciting and fresh.

Let's consider the first "Lethal Weapon," a tough-as-nails buddy-buddy police actioner with a badass Mel Gibson as the suicidal Martin Riggs. Here was a ticking time bomb ready to die at any given moment - regardless of the consequences. Let's also consider Roger Murtaugh (Danny Glover), a family man who served in Vietnam and is getting ready to face old age. The two were an unbeatable pair, and they also faced one of the best villains in the history of action films, played by Gary Busey! The point was that a mutual camaraderie existed between them.

The second film was purely action and laughs with the very funny and oily Joe Pesci as the accountant, Leo Getz ("Whatever you want, Leo gets!"). It also set the standard for one of the best, most explosive action scenes ever. The third film went further with the comedy, and too much action. There was little or no character development, and the introduction of the Internal Affairs officer, Lorna (Rene Russo), resulted in one of the weakest entries of the series.

So what's left in "Lethal Weapon 4"? Not much, I am afraid. Riggs is now a respectable citizen with short hair, ready to settle down, and no longer lethal (Is this the same suicidal freak from the first film?) Chris Rock is shown briefly and doesn't figure much in the story, except that he gets Murtaugh's daughter pregnant. Murtaugh is unaware that Rock is the father, and thinks Chris Rock is gay. Riggs's girlfriend, Lorna, is also pregnant and wants to get married! Funny, indeed. Leo Getz is back as a private investigator, and he is unbearable throughout with his continual "whatevers" and "okays." The thin story has to do with Chinese gangsters conspiring in some threadbare plot about counterfeit money and led by a formidable villain (Jet Li), a martial-arts expert - a true lethal weapon. And there are the requisite explosions, implausible action scenes, and typically racist jokes aimed squarely at the Chinese.

"Lethal Weapon 4" looks like it was assembled rather than directed. One car chase here, one fist fight there, one obvious joke here, and so on. There's no plot or story to speak of. No shred of acting skills either, despite the high-powered cast, although Jet Li says a lot with one stare, here and there. It's like a tired parody of the "Lethal Weapon" experience and its ickily sentimental, heavily overwrought last passage - involving Pesci's unintentionally funny monologue and dual pregnancies - left me in a state of dumbfounded shock. There's never any sense of danger or peril, and no sense of communion or camaraderie between the characters. It's "Lethally Bland Weapon" for dummies.

Aronofsky's Tree of Life

THE FOUNTAIN (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 2008)

I have said that Darren Aronofsky is a force to be reckoned with. After seeing "The Fountain," no apt description could make it less apropos than to call Aronofsky a force to be reckoned with. "The Fountain" is a beautiful, luscious, often compelling film that is severely limited in the dramatic and emotional departments. It has a story of epic proportions but the running time limits any epic appeal.

Another force to be reckoned with is Hugh Jackman (an actor whose whole state-of-being belongs in this kind of story), who plays Tom in three alternate timelines. In one timeline set 500 years earlier, he is Tomas, a conquistador who wants to kill a and has a love for Queen Isabella (Rachel Weisz). He is willing to do anything for her, including finding the Tree of Life (the one tree that God did not inform Adam and Eve about) that will allow one for immortality if you drink the tree sap.

It seems, however, that the conquistador is part of a novel called "The Fountain," which is written by Izzy (also played by Rachel Weisz). Izzy has a brain tumor and is close to death while her husband, Tommy Creo (also played by Hugh Jackman), is trying to develop a drug that may cure her (he is also conducting experiments with a monkey). Izzy hasn't finished her novel and hopes that Tommy will write her last chapter. A strange wish since he is a doctor, not a writer.

Flash forward to the 26th century where Tommy Creo is a bald man, practicing presumably tai-chi, who has a tree of life that he sleeps next to inside a bubble of sorts. He also travels in a ship that looks like a golden orb, and hopes to connect with Xibalba, the nebula that Izzy spoke of that the Mayans believe is the origin of life. Speaking of presumptions (and some interesting explanations from avid watchers of this film), the 26th century element may be well be the final chapter of the book that Tommy has written.

"The Fountain" has little visual grandeur, overall, containing several blindingly lit close-ups of the fascinating faces of Weisz and Jackman. This makes it tough to digest any of the emotional connections in the story, especially with a towering actor like Jackman. I say this with great respect to the actor but he is not meant to be squeezed into a pretty love story. Jackman is too larger-than-life, too energetic and fanciful a performer to be restricted to shallow depths of despair. He comes off best as the Spanish conquistador or as the bald Buddhist Tom of the future because he is allowed to break free and pounce. The central, present-day story comes off weakest when he appears. I just can't fathom or believe Jackman as a doctor who yells at his staff when a cure isn't found quickly enough.

Rachel Weisz is the soul of the film and brings the yearning for an ethereal woman whom Jackman pines for. She has fragility and vulnerability in her that you almost feel she is about to break. Ellen Burstyn briefly appears as Tom's supervisor, and her eulogy for Izzy is heartbreaking and one of the emotionally sensitive scenes in the film.

"The Fountain" is a noble and savvy experiment by Aronofsky but, as an epic, it loses much momentum and it is dwarfed in its ambitions by the 90 minute running time. This is one time when I wish for a director's cut.

Riggs and the 3 Stooges

LETHAL WEAPON 3 (1992)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(original review from 1992)

I'd be hardpressed to dismiss "Lethal Weapon 3" because, as an essentially pure action movie, it works. Yet, stacked up against the first two, it falls quite short despite delivering exactly what it promises.

The movie, though, doesn't begin very promisingly. A huge building implodes, thanks to occasionally unreliable cops, Murtaugh and Riggs (played by Danny Glover and Mel Gibson). Rather than wait for the bomb squad to arrive, Riggs gets the bright idea of cutting the wires to the bomb, the wrong wires of course. Thanks to their conduct, they are relegated to traffic duty, which of course leads into an armored car chase (the movie hasn't really even started). Then we eventually get to the plot - a brutal ex-cop (Stuart Wilson) is selling illegal firearms to street gangs and also maintains an interest in real estate! Newest character to the series is the Internal Affairs officer, Lorna Cole (Rene Russo) who keeps cameras in interrogation rooms, unbeknownst to the police. A crime has occurred in one of those rooms and this ex-cop is the culprit. So it is up to the reckless Riggs, the retiring Murtaugh and this karate-chopping IA officer to bring down the cop and his henchmen, as well as some members from "Boyz and the Hood." There is also an annoying distraction with returnee Joe Pesci as Leo Getz, the mob informant from Part 2. I love Pesci but there is only so much I can take from a peroxide motormouth who is also interested in real estate!

To top it all off, there are chases galore with thundering sound effects and punches delivered to the noggin and the nuts that sound like clashing refrigerators (I saw this movie with a THX-sound-system back in 1992 that had a bass that would rock your seats). Bullets pierce flesh like there's no tomorrow. Riggs falls from three stories with only a dislocated shoulder (an injury he had in Part 2). People are hit by cars and trucks, including some of the villains, and the worst injury they get is a bruise. This is more of a cartoon comedy than the other films ever came close to being.

We get countless scenes of Gibson mugging, hollering and spitting at the camera with absolute relish. Gibson also has his share of one-liners, and Glover merely looks dumbfounded (best moment is when he fires his gun accidentally in a locker room). Rene Russo is simply too unbelievable as an Internal Affairs officer. Yet the frenetic pacing matches the frenetic acting. And for "Jaws" fans, there is a scene where Riggs and Lorna compare battle scars. Cute, but more appropriate to "Jaws" than this movie.

For sheer entertainment, "Lethal Weapon 3" fits the bill. But with an anonymous villain, a perfunctory plot and far too many action sequences, the film rings hollow and lacks the spirit of camaraderie that the other entries had. This movie tries to do too much with too little. It is clear that Gibson and Glover have chemistry and work as a cop team yet, unlike Murtaugh's final decision regarding retirement, "Lethal Weapon 3" was not the last word on this franchise.

Hotbed of racial hate

JUNGLE FEVER (1991)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Spike Lee's "Jungle Fever" is one of his most audacious and entertaining films yet, curiously, one of his most flawed. But we can forgive Spike for not sticking as close to his subject matter as one might have hoped - his film rocks and strikes at us with some of the frankest discussions about race ever committed to film.

"Jungle Fever" begins with Flipper (Wesley Snipes), a successful architect with a light-skinned black wife (Lonette McKee) and a precious daughter who pretends she never hears their lovemaking each morning. Life is as normal as can be (as established by the boy throwing the New York Times at their doorstep in slow-motion). Of course, tension exists from the start. Flipper has a new receptionist, an Italian-American named Angie (Annabella Sciorra), when in fact he requested an African-American (he put it in writing after all). But the more Flipper gets accustomed to Angie, the more he feels the "fever." He craves Angie because he wants to know what it is like to bed a white woman. Angie falls into it as well, though her initial reasons (outside of horniness) are never made clear. At one point Flipper tells her, "You were curious about black," yet Angie is not so sure.

If "Jungle Fever" stuck to its guns in delivering insights on interracial couples, it might have been a small masterpiece. But writer-director Spike Lee explores other issues. We learn Flipper has a God-fearing family, including his father, the Good Reverend Dr. Purify (Ossie Davis), and his mother, Lucinda (Ruby Dee), both of whom praise God while Mathalia Jackson music plays in the background. We also learn that Flipper's brother, Gator (Samuel L. Jackson, in an electrifying performance that won him a Cannes Best Actor award), is a crackhead who frequents a corroded, uninviting crack den called the Taj Majal with his woman, Viv (the virtually unrecognizable Halle Berry).

Then we learn about Angie's family, which includes her widowed father (Frank Vincent) and her two foul-mouthed brothers. Every night she has to cook dinner for them. She is also engaged to Paulie (John Turturro) who works at a luncheonette owned by his overbearing father (Anthony Quinn), who refuses to carry the New York Times because it doesn't sell. Angie mistakenly confides in her two best friends, Denise (Debi Mazar) and Louise (Gina Mastrogiacomo), about her affair with Flipper. Let's just say that this ignites the hotbed of racial hate.

For starters, Paulie's Italian-American customers and friends turn on him for liking the friendly black woman that buys the Times each morning (and for not expressing more outrage over Angie's conduct). Angie's father beats up Angie in a scene of tremendous violence. Flipper's wife flips out to say the least, and it leads to a wonderful, much-discussed sequence where a group of black women frankly discuss where the good, faithful black men are (apparently, they are sanitation workers and bus drivers).

"Jungle Fever" is feverish, exciting, alert filmmaking by Spike Lee but he tends to dwarf his own premise and reduce it, slimming it down to something about nothing less than racial myths. Flipper may feel that way about the relationship but he is also speaking for Angie, who is not allowed to express her own view. After they are both slighted at an all-black restaurant, she asks a simple question: "What are we doing?" Flipper responds by saying, "I honestly...don't know." Lee says this couple is not in love - they are experimenting with their own racial attitudes and living up to certain idealized myths. It is a shame that Sciorra shows far more depth in her character than the screenplay allows. A shame largely because Spike Lee refuses to be encumbered by at least one scene where the couple discuss anything but race.

The best scenes are the discussions of race, racism and interracial relationships among the characters. Once again, I'd argue that an interracial couple spends as little time as possible discussing their race than making passionate love. Still, the honesty of how each character feels is expressed with enough persuasive power to hopefully make the audience wonder why race has to be the standard in defining anything. But once too often, Lee gets sidetracked into all the drug business with Gator which, as powerful as most of those scenes are, have little to do with the central theme. Still, for a movie this tantalizing and brave and expertly performed, "Jungle Fever" shouldn't be ignored.

Where are my TITS?

MYRA BRECKINRIDGE (1970)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Myra Breckinridge" is a wacky, nonsensical mess of a travesty, and I liked it. I suppose it is a guilty pleasure on all counts but it is never boring and consistenly mesmerizing in its attemps to film the unfilmable, namely a book by Gore Vidal of the same name. I've read portions of the book (written as a diary) and it is so suffused with sexual explicitness and innuendoes of every kind at every turn that no film could ever really do it justice, especially when the book's main theme is that heterosexual men can be made into homosexuals. The film adaptation doesn't quite fulfill the book's themes, nor is it as pointed in its criticism of WASP values as it is a critique of Hollywood at its most base. Still, the fact that someone tried to make a film out of it is cause for a minor celebration.

Rex Reed (in his sole leading role) is a homosexual writer named Myron, who undergoes a major sex operation and becomes Myra (played by Raquel Welch). Never mind that Welch looks nothing like Reed - hey, it's a movie - but that there is no real correlation in their behavior either. This is probably why writer-director Michael Sarne chooses to have Rex Reed on screen at the same time as Welch, and they both talk to each other! At one point, Reed masturbates and imagines fellatio with Myra, I gather, in a scene that must have caused more laughter than hysteria of the inclusion of such a scene in an X-rated film of 1970.

So we have John Huston as a former movie cowboy with an oversized hat running an acting school that admonishes the film acting found in B-movies, though Myra is of the opinion there is value to be found in them. There is also a stoned John Carradine smoking a cigarette as he performs the movie's opening operation; Mae West as a Hollywood talent agent who has an affinity for male hunks and makes more sexual remarks and double entendres than any of her past movies combined; Farrah Fawcett as a slightly dim blonde who loves Myra; and a scene involving sodomy with a dildo that is neither as ugly or unwatchable as its reputation seems to suggest.

In fact, "Myra Breckinridge" is hardly as wrenchingly bad as its reputation suggests. This is a far better wacky film of wacky proportions than Gus Van Sant's unwatchable atrocity of an unfilmable novel, "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues." "Myra Breckinridge" forges sex jokes galore but it is also a condemnation of any Hollywood movie made before the MPAA ratings were implemented. Scenes of Rex Reed are a bit long on the tooth - he is not a charismatic actor and looks zombiefied throughout - but he himself has expressed more admiration for any movie made before 1950.

I would say some novels are not meant for film adaptation but "Myra Breckinridge" features Rex Reed at his liveliest only when dancing and cavorting with Welch while listening to Shirley Temple's song "You Gotta S-M-I-L-E (To Be H-A-Double P-Y)", and he even gets to say the line, "Where are my tits?" I can say that although the movie's pleasures may be small, I did get a kick out of it and enjoyed this garish, brightly lit opus that is like a zonked-out, flashy erotic dream drained of eroticism. Interesting.

Soon he will know

'STRANGE' TEASER

By Jerry Saravia

The narration seems to have been read by either Ian McKellen or Thomas Hardy. There is black-and-white footage of a man with scraggly long hair and his wrists seem to be bound. He is walking in the beach at night and he drops to his knees as the waves surround him. The narrator indicates that this man doesn't know who he is, but soon he will know. "Men become lost. Men vanish. Men become erased...and reborn." Then we see another man holding a light of some sort (flashlight, lantern), and his lips are seemingly stitched together. The title reads: "Soon he will know" which appears on the screen and then slowly each word fades away leaving us with the word "Soon."

What in creation is this? All we know is that this is Bad Robot production and it is perhaps produced, if not directed, by J.J. Abrams. Considering his directorial plate is full now with "Star Wars Episode VII" and a new "Star Trek" feature in the horizon, it is hard to say if this is a new project he had worked on already and still in post-production or if it is something he is currently filming with some other director, or if this is a sneak peek at the new "Star Wars" film (I somehow doubt it). Whatever it is, it has piqued my interest just like J.J's "Super 8" teaser from 2010. Check it out below.

Dusty, dank, dreary Oz

RETURN TO OZ (1985)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

"The Wizard of Oz" remains arguably the most beloved fantasy film of all time. No other film has inspired audiences as much as "Oz" and its cult status remains high. Who doesn't know Dorothy and her pals in that magic land over the rainbow? What is surprising is that the books by L. Frank Baum are scarier and darker than the film was. "Return to Oz" is an attempt to mix some of that darkness with Oz, and the result is a mixed bag at best. Though there are some fantastic images, the movie is inert and lacking a crucial ingredient - magic.

As the film opens, Dorothy (Fairuza Balk, in her astonishing debut performance) is still living with Aunt Em (Piper Laurie) and Uncle Henry (Matt Clark) in good old Kansas. Only this Kansas is not in sepia tones, it is more of a dour place to live in. What's worse is that Aunt and Uncle decide that Dorothy, who can't separate reality from her own dreams, should see the local town doctor. This means that Dorothy has to undergo electric shock-therapy (!) to rid of her dreams and make her realize that Oz does not exist. However, an electrical storm takes place one night which enables Dorothy to run away from the hospital. She conks her head and suddenly she is back in the magical land of Oz. But this Oz is not any better than Kansas. The magical city of Oz is in ruins with creatures running around on wheels, known as the Wheelers, taunting anyone that comes in their path. There is also a skeletal-like creature with a pumpkin on his head, a strange robot named Tik-Tok, and the return of old favorites like the Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion and the Tin Man. And there is a being known as the Nome King (voiced by Nicol Williamson) who is essentially made of rock.

The movie is dazzling in its special-effects and incredible production design, such as the Nome's rocky digs or a princess's palace where animated heads decorate her walls. Although I agree that the tone should be darker than the 1939 classic, something else is off. Fairy tales often have a dark edge to them, particularly Roald Dahl's work, but what is missing here is conviction, amazement and wonder. Oz is perceived as a place where no magic ever existed - what child would want to dream of a magic land that is always nightmarish? Well, "Alice in Wonderland" is akin to that style, a nightmare that one can't wake up from. But the movie lacks the wonder, the awe that is central to a child's innocence, especially someone like Dorothy. In the 1939 film, one never got the impression that Dorothy wasn't astounded at the sights she saw. Here, Dorothy acts like Oz is a run-down town like Kansas, nothing here to take away from the experience. I never got the impression Dorothy saw any difference between Oz and Kansas.

"Return to Oz" is a technical triumph and tremendously well-cast, but it lacks innocence and a sense of magic. Something like 1984's "The Never-Ending Story" possessed all those ingredients. That film was about a kid reading a fairy tale book and getting hooked by the adventures he was reading and actually living them. Here, there is nothing to get hooked by. You are more likely to get hoodwinked.

Sarah is one devilish, dangerous comedienne

SARAH SILVERMAN: JESUS IS MAGIC (2005)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"I don't care if you think I'm racist. I only care if you think I'm thin." - Sarah Silverman

Sarah Silverman is such a disarming, sweet, likable presence that you are almost shocked to hear the things that come of her mouth. But calling her a potty-mouthed, "dirty Jew" comedian would do her a great disservice. Sarah Silverman is unique in that she gets away with it - all the racist slurs she invokes with insight show she cares and sees the hipocrisy inherent in our culture. I believe she is one of our great comedians and has a superb future ahead of her, and this proof is delivered amply in "Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic."

This 72-minute quasi-concert film begins with Sarah seated with two show-biz friends (comedian Brian Posehn and Sarah's sister, Laura Silverman) who brag about their success. Then they ask her what she is up to. Sarah hesitantly tells them she'll be performing a one-woman show. And so we are off to the first musical number where she tries to come up with a show, and then the show begins. All I can say is "Jesus is Magic" is funny and shocking all at the same time. Like fellow comedian Joy Behar said, Sarah is dangerous and can make one nervous.

Take for example Sarah's joke about 9/11 (if you are already squeamish reading this, don't read further). She claims the slogan for American Airlines should be "the first airline to hit the towers." Yep, maybe not so funny when you read it in a sentence. But when Sarah delivers the line, it is somehow tempered with enough sincerity and coquettishness that you might be shocked, but you won't hold it against her. After all, she is making a point about how everyone has to slap a slogan on everything, including 9/11. And it is funny but not in an uncomfortable manner, especially when she realized on that day how many calories are in a soy milk latte. 900 calories, apparently.

Sarah gives us comfort or, more appropriately, she places us in a comfort zone. She looks like a Catholic schoolgirl - brunette, long neck, speaks in a Valley Girl accent (she would fit right in with the cast of "Heaven Help Us" or at my Catholic elementary school if it weren't for the fact that she is Jewish). We start to feel cozy with her because she is not threatening. Then she hits us with jokes about the Holocaust where her grandmother was once in a concentration camp; black teenage girls having babies; de-boning Ethiopian babies to get their tailbones for decorative rings; AIDS; Jewish people buying German cars; racial slurs and stereotypes; anal rape; strippers as role models; porno actors like Ron Jeremy, etc. To top it all off, there is a musical number where Sarah sings to the elderly patients reminding them over and over again that they will die. And to make those even more squeamish post-Michael Richards racist tirade, she uses the "N-word" in a musical number that ends with two black guys staring at our disarming, Pucci-dressed comedian.

Clearly, Sarah Silverman is not for everyone. You might recognize Ms. Silverman from talk shows (including her boyfriend's show, Jimmy Kimmel) and from Saturday Night Live, not to mention her short role in "School of Rock." But there is something truly clever and audacious and inspiring about Sarah Silverman. I think the key ingredient is the way she tells her humorous stories - there is a hesitancy and she is apologetic up to a point. Plus, she is attractive and sincere, not to mention disarming. Therefore, when she hits the jugular with confrontational jokes, you smile and you might even laugh but mostly, you do not hate her for it. To call her unique doesn't even begin to describe her natural comedic talent - she is a becalming force of nature that hits you like a ton of bricks.

At 72 minutes, "Jesus is Magic" is still too short (and the hospital music number could've been excised with no real damage). I love most of the colorful musical numbers, and Sarah's last bit involving multiple orgasms is hilarious. I still hope she can do a full-blown concert film someday, something a little long than an hour and ten minutes.

God needs six screenwriters?

OH, GOD!: BOOK TWO (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

One of the charms of the original "Oh, God!" was its sincerity. It helped that the late and very sincere John Denver was the supermarket manager in the original who sincerely believed that he saw and spoke to God. He is in disbelief over it but he starts to believe, and so do we. That charm is diminished a little bit in "Oh, God!: Book II" but it is not totally withdrawn. I just found this sequel perhaps a little too cutesy for its own good.

Louanne plays Tracy Richards, an 11-year-old girl whom God invites to the lounge room at a Chinese restaurant to talk business. Tracy is a little mystified (and who wouldn't be when the invitation is in a fortune cookie) and, sure enough, God (George Burns) is there. He tells Tracy that He has a little job for her - to remind people that God still exists. Tracy has to come up with a slogan and, after much hard work, comes up with "Think God." She has to spread the word like a modern-day apostle. She prepares banners at school, spray-paints the words at churches, restaurants and everywhere else. Of course, she does her job too well since she is suspended from school and is recommended for treatment at a mental institution! (If this movie were made today, it would've expanded the whole separation of church and state controversy). Naturally, Tracy's parents (David Birney, Suzanne Pleshette) are outraged yet feel obligated to conform to the doctors and the school officials' requests.

"Oh, God!: Book II" is serviceable entertainment but it is oddly too reverential. The wonderful thing about the original "Oh, God!" is that it never took itself too seriously. This movie pokes a little fun at first, but then it starts to veer away from any comical charms in its premise and starts to treat the material a little too matter-of-factly. We do not need so many scenes of Tracy undergoing cat scans or being interviewed by a psychiatrist. We want to see more scenes of George Burns's God helping Tracy with her math homework, taking her for a ride in a motorcycle, explaining why evil has to exist, and so on. " Oh, God! Book II" is not an excruciating sequel but it is extraordinarily bland (even blander was the snore-inducing "Oh, God! You Devil!"). There are a few laughs, a few smiles, and a silly courtroom climax that is merely a retread of the original. This is a harmless family film, but even God would agree that the filmmakers should have had more faith in their story. Most pressing question: Why does God need six screenwriters?

You flunk with this project

MY SCIENCE PROJECT (1985)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I recall going to my neighborhood theater in Queens, New York back in good old 1985 to see "Back to the Future." As I was perusing through the hallway theater at other movies playing, I noticed they were showing "My Science Project." The scene I took a gander at featured some kids dressed as the stormtroopers from "Star Wars." I always wondered what that scene was about. Sixteen years later, I finally watched the actual film for the first time. I wish I had not bothered finding out.

A teenage car mechanic (John Stockwell) is failing his science class. His wild hippie teacher (Dennis Hopper) warns him that he better get his grade up or he will fail him for the semester. The kid goes on a date with a four-eyed blonde nerd (Danielle von Zerneck) to a missile base where he discovers a crystal sphere. He decides that this is his science project since the sphere looks, well, cool and it emits a phosphorescent glow! With the help of his Fonzie-like best friend (a very young Fisher Stevens) and his date, they inadvertently unleash a time-travel force from this sphere where dinosaurs, gladiators, the Vietcong and other figures from the past run rampant inside the local high school!

This is not a bad plot to speak of, just rottenly executed. The characters are unappealing and uncharismatic - Stockwell as the lead exhibits no personality whatsoever. The jokes are juvenile and putrid at best (Stevens humming the "Mission: Impossible" theme is the best the writers can do). The romance between Stockwell and von Zerneck is a joke in itself (at least von Zerneck fared better as Richie Valens' girlfriend in "La Bamba" two years later). The special-effects are bland and forgettable (laser blasts are better handled in "Star Wars"). The T-Rex has precious little screen time. Only Dennis Hopper saves the day as the hippie teacher - his last scene is hysterical as he is dressed in the same garb from "Easy Rider" and ecstatically mentions revisiting Woodstock! And as for my memory of those stormtroopers? Well, all I can say is that George Lucas should sue.

Not a ghost of a chance

GHOST IN THE MACHINE (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from 2003

Back in the day when the Internet was known as the Information Superhighway and nobody knew what an email was, a little film called "Ghost in the Machine" was released in theatres. It focused on the dangers of the Internet, particularly when somebody can have access to anything like bank account numbers, address books, shopping lists, etc. Well, those ideas are at the surface of "Ghost in the Machine," a ludicrous, snail-paced slasher movie that tries to pass itself off as relevant and timely. Not a ghost of a chance.

The opening scenes give the impression that we are about to see an average slasher picture. A young man, who works in an Ohio computer store, steals address books from clients and begins murdering every one of the occupants at these addresses. The latest client is Terry Monroe (Karen Allen), who mistakenly leaves her address book in the store (I suppose the killer will only kill forgetful people who leave their address books in the store? Just a guess). The young man races in his car in the rainy night to give back the book to Terry and presumably kill her. There is a tragic accident where the killer's car careens into a cemetery, and he gives one of those devilish laughs that signifies he was expecting this to happen. He is taken to the hospital for an MRI when an electrical storm causes a malfunction in the circuits. This supercharged electrical storm metamorphoses the killer into a human computer signal where he can access anyone's computer and kill them. His last target is Terry and her wanna-be rapper son.

The only problem with this conceit is that the killer is not just a computer signal beaming down from a satellite or a tech company. He can also travel through electrical wires and zap you through your washer machine, toaster oven, microwave, hair dryer (!), radio, and so on (much like the killer in "Shocker.") In other words, the movie seems to be saying that no electrical appliances are safe in your own home, and for goodness sakes', seal those electrical outlets! Perhaps the message is that we are so dependent on our appliances that we should consider cooking our food at a campfire and speak to people on the street instead of calling them and/or emailing them. After all, a killer could be loose and increase our electric bill.

This movie was a downward trajectory for Karen Allen, who has none of the spit, fire or polish of her more accomplished roles - she is as indifferent as the rest of the cast is. As for the killer, the actor has a certain creepiness but since the writers have given no real apparent motive except the desire to kill anyone within his reach (especially Terry's friends), there is nothing to cling to - he is just a one-dimensional inhuman killer. Delete this ghost of a movie.

Enchanting, surreal mindbender inside Laura Palmer

TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 1996)

My taste is in the minority but I consider "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" to be David Lynch's weirdest and most humanistic film since "Eraserhead." Back in 1992, the film was reviled for disgracing all devoted "Twin Peaks" fans because of its strained logic and omission of some major characters from the show. The movie was booed rather than ballyhooed at the Cannes Film Festival, and was panned by most American critics resulting in poor box-office. "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" certainly does not have much in common with the cult TV series but most people I think have missed the point. The story is about Laura Palmer and what she endured in her final days before being murdered. Laura is the most full-bodied and complex portrait of a high-school student I've seen since Timothy Hutton's complex teen character in "Ordinary People."

I'll admit the film does start off badly. Chris Isaak stars as an FBI agent who is arresting teens in a school bus in Fargo! He is called by his superior (David Lynch) to investigate the murder of Teresa Banks (Pamela Gidley) in a town as exceptionally creepy as Twin Peaks. Isaak brings along a nervous doctor (Kiefer Sutherland, who is always twitching) to help perform the autopsy. Unexpected clues and goings-on occur and when you have Harry Dean Stanton as a trailer park manager, you know nothing is quite normal. Enter Kyle MacLachlan as Agent Cooper who is sent there to investigate the mysterious disappearance of Isaak.

The film finally picks up speed as we enter the second act, set "One Year Later" in Twin Peaks, detailing the final week in the life of Laura Palmer (beautifully played by Sheryl Lee). She is one of the most popular, sexiest students at Twin Peaks High School but appearances always conceal the truth. Apparently, she is a cokehead, has several boyfriends and attends late-night sex clubs in the Canadian border. Her home life is not much better than her lifestyle. Laura's mother, Sarah Palmer (Grace Zabriskie) is bordering towards insanity, and her father, Leland Palmer (Ray Wise), is abusive and strict towards her resulting in one heck of a dysfunctional family. Laura's only sign of normalcy is her devoted best friend, Donna Hayward (Moira Kelly), who is trying to come to terms with Laura's decadent side.

What is especially invigorating about "Twin Peaks" is its unpredictable narrative that confusingly leaps all over the place. At one point, there's a flashback showing David Bowie as some lost FBI agent who knows something about the strange forces at bay in Twin Peaks. Then there are Laura's surrealistic, haunting nightmares (or actual figments of an otherworldly presence) which include a red-suited dwarf (Michael Anderson) commenting on formica tables; young boys wearing strange white masks with Pinocchio noses; angels in waiting; framed pictures of doorways leading somewhere, and so on. The movie feels like a never-ending nightmare, and it is to Lynch's credit that he doesn't suffuse it with tongue-in-cheek humor or deliberate winks to the audience as if it was all a joke - "Wild at Heart" is a minor example of the latter. This is a dark fable about self-revelation, incest, murderous impulses and depravity in small-town America - a far more vivid journey than the overrated shenanigans of "Blue Velvet."

The casting is impeccable. Sheryl Lee exhibits layers of sincerity, lustfulness, heartbreak and denial with breathtaking vigor - her Laura Palmer is a tortured soul in need of nurturing. Ray Wise scarily depicts a seething madman in Leland yet seems normal enough to pass as an average dad. Wise and Lee's scenes are intense and dramatic to witness in the most twisted father-daughter relationship ever seen. Moira Kelly is not especially convincing as Laura's best friend and remains the poorest casting choice (Lara Flynn Boyle was better). MacLachlan mostly has a sharp cameo as Agent Cooper and floats in and out of the story, and there's the fast-talking Miguel Ferrer as a competitive agent. A character sorely missed from the show is the alluring Audrey Horne but you can't have everything.

David Lynch's direction is exceptional with his trademark shadowy angles bringing forth a foreboding sense of gloom, and moody photography courtesy of Ron Garcia. Two standout sequences are a strobe-lit club party, and a harrowing encounter with the One-Armed Man (Al Strobel) during a traffic jam. The nightmare sequences are weird and abstract beyond belief, and will give you goose bumps for days not to mention Angelo Badalamenti's eerie score.

"Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" is far from greatness, but it is more philosophical and less enchanting than "Wild at Heart." Laura Palmer's descent into drugs, decadence and madness is thrillingly realized by Lynch, and he creates the most unforgettable character since Henry in "Eraserhead."