A Math Wiz who is too good to be true

GOOD WILL HUNTING (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 1997)

Films about child prodigies or twentysomething geniuses rarely get inside their heads and ask: "What makes you tick?" An even tougher question rarely posed is: "How do you deal with who you are?" Slight films in this category that could have been great include Jodie Foster's "Little Man Tate," and the predictable Rocky-crossed-with-chess-playing tale "Searching For Bobby Fischer." There's also the finely acted "Stand and Deliver" that dealt with inner-city kids who miraculously performed better in A.P. Calculus exams than anyone else, but they didn't exist as anything more than ciphers. One film that broke through that barrier was the marvelous "Amadeus," which depicted the rare talents of the wonderful composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart in blazing glory with, naturally, great music to alleviate the senses. The Oscar-winning film was a three-dimensional portrait of Mozart presenting him as a buffoonish clown who didn't seem arrogant, but knew how good a composer he was. Now there is also "Good Will Hunting," a finely acted, well-written drama about a math genius who is too good to be true, and that is part of the film's problem.

The charismatic Matt Damon stars as the conceited orphan Will Hunting; a South Bostonian hooligan who drinks, fights, and generally fools around with his buddies. He works as a janitor at MIT and, once in a while, he solves complex math problems posed by an MIT professor (Stellan Skarsgard) on a hallway blackboard. When the professor finally spots him solving a problem, he decides to use Will as a math instructor to solve all kinds of difficult math theorems that had conflicted scientists for centuries. Will is reluctant at first, but he decides to go along with it since it is way of avoiding jail time. It also means that he has to see a brilliant therapist (Robin Williams) twice a week - a former child prodigy who will try to uncover what makes this troubled kid tick.

Will has the ability to see through people - he can make Harvard students envious with his textbook knowledge of politics, and he can drive people mad with aggravation, including the therapist who Will discovers is a widower. Lest anyone think that he's just a brainiac, Will also has the ability to love, especially a British Harvard student (Minnie Driver) who wants to help him grapple with his emotions. There's a priceless scene where he picks up Minnie at a bar. She asks if they could get together for coffee. He suggests caramels: "When you think about it, it is as arbitrary as drinking coffee."

"Good Will Hunting" has a terrific premise - a troubled genius who suppresses his past - and although the film deals with his abusive past, it never confirms or explains Will's genius. Where does it stem from and, more importantly, how does Will feel about his own intelligence? The movie treats Will as a misunderstood genius rather than allowing Will to see how he mistreats and misunderstands himself. That's probably too much to expect from a film, but I wouldn't have minded to see Will's brain at work - how about a scene where we see the mental process by which Will solves a math problem? There are some instances where we see Will's genius at work (the courtroom scenes where Will avoids misdemeanor jail sentences by quoting legal cases from the 19th century is a good example) but they are not enough to show how Will's mind unravels. Mostly, we see the selfish MIT professor trying to use Will's mind as an experiment for his own ambitions, and there's the therapist who is trying to get Will to confront his past - yes, you've seen these subplots before.

"Good Will Hunting" has plenty of expert performances from the cast, including Matt Damon ("Courage Under Fire") as the fast-talking Will; Ben Affleck ("Chasing Amy") as Will's beer-drinking buddy who has a pivotal moment where he tries to convince Will to take advantage of his talents; the luscious Minnie Driver as Will's girlfriend who loves him; and the grand Robin Williams as the hip therapist who has been down the same road as Will. Williams, in his Awakenings mode, is brilliantly understated and a joy to watch as we see him gradually trying to get Will to open his heart. His final scene, where he repeatedly acknowledges to Will that it is "not your fault," is emotionally powerful and heartbreaking.

"Good Will Hunting" is competently directed by Gus Van Sant ("Drugstore Cowboy") but Van Sant never gets as close to Will's nature as he did to River Phoenix's in "My Own Private Idaho." The first-time screenplay by co-stars Ben Affleck and Matt Damon is often smartly funny, manipulative and quasi-sentimental but not as freshly developed as I might have hoped. By the end of the film, you feel that Will Hunting is more like an unreal movie character than a genuine, three-dimensional human being.

Anonymous police drama

COP LAND (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 1997)

 Sylvester Stallone has not had a beguiling career since the heyday of "Rocky" nearly ten years ago. Since then, he's tried and failed with comedy ("Oscar"), musicals ("Rhinestone"), and endless sequels ("Rocky V"). Stallone is usually best in his action roles such as "Rambo" or "Cliffhanger," but his range as an actor is fairly limited. "Cop Land" is supposed to be Stallone's first very dramatic role (at least since the slight but still watchable "F.I.S.T") but there's no energy and no enthusiasm, much like the movie itself.

Stallone plays Fred Heflin, a simple-minded, stolid sheriff of Garrison, a fictional New Jersey town. His chain of command in this town is nil, and he only has two other people in his staff. His basic duties are relegated to traffic duty. The New York cops who run this Jersey town are controlling everything but there's corruption boiling everywhere. Michael Rapaport plays a cop nicknamed Superboy who inadvertently kills two black teenagers during a car chase. The police want to cover it up, and Superboy supposedly commits suicide by jumping off a bridge. Fred is oblivious to these surroundings and decides to take no action against the corrupt cops because they put him where he is now. A colorful Internal Affairs officer (Robert De Niro) tries to get information from the unwilling Fred but fails. It turns out Fred is more interested in a cop's wife (Annabella Sciorra) but when people start getting knocked off, he decides he has to do what is morally correct. He gets some guidance from a former cop (Ray Liotta) who is also a cokehead.

"Cop Land" could have worked with some imaginative direction, a stronger plot and a better performance by the lead actor but it is no different from any TV movie on the same subject. There have been countless movies on police corruption - the best of these was the decadent "Bad Lieutenant" - and so there's nothing here we haven't seen before and better. For example, there's a gun planted at a crime scene; a typical Internal Affairs interrogation scene; badges flashed by several cops; nonessential bar fights; and a final, cliched shootout staged in slow-motion a'la Peckinpah. None of this is handled with any energy, flash, or vigor - it has a TV movie staleness that discomfits rather than enthralls.

Stallone is inarticulate as a dramatic actor and, although that might help the role, he sleepwalks through the film with no trace of humor or passion. Harvey Keitel is naturally more animated as an actor but his corrupt cop character is something he can play in his sleep. Ray Liotta is convincingly frantic as the druggy cop but his role is too similar to his Henry Hill character in "GoodFellas." Peter Berg, Frank Vincent, Michael Rapaport, Cathy Moriarty, Janeane Garofalo and Annabella Sciorra play trivial, forgettable roles with no inner life or central meaning to the story. A chance meeting between De Niro and Keitel is wonderful to behold but the scene is never followed up on. Ditto the Garofalo character, a new cop in Heflin's staff, who helps Heflin at the beginning but then decides to leave town. Why? Where's the transition?

"Cop Land" is directed by James Mangold who helmed the brilliant character study "Heavy." This film, though, has the same snail pace and static energy, and it deadens rather than enliven the proceedings. Robert De Niro and Ray Liotta breathe life into the film whenever they appear on screen. Stallone and "Cop Land," however, are too ordinary and listless to keep anyone interested. Watch the invigorating TV show "NYPD Blue" instead.

Interview with Peter Zaremba: Hear that American Beat on the Silver Screen

INTERVIEW WITH PETER ZAREMBA: HEAR THAT AMERICAN BEAT ON THE SILVER SCREEN

By Jerry Saravia

Peter Zaremba, performing with the Fleshtones at the World Cafe Live, Oct. 2013

We are so inundated with hearing songs in movie soundtracks that we have become immune to the true rock and rollers, the ones that have their songs played loudly while burning up the screen and riveting our attention. There are but a few that manage to work so well, to convey some subtext or serve as commentary on what is happening on screen. I always think back to Jackson Browne's melodic "Late for the Sky" in Martin Scorsese's "Taxi Driver," the use of Iggy Pop's electrifying "Lust for Life" in "Trainspotting" or its more subtle use in "Desperately Seeking Susan." As far as commenting on the action, I am not sure if that is the case with the Fleshtones' "American Beat" song which is featured in a bizarre scene in 1984's "Bachelor Party" where sales clerks at a jazzy jean store called "Neon Jeans" dance to the tune. My favorite line of dialogue is when a customer is ready for checkout and the salesgirl says, "Can't you wait until the song is over?" Maybe that was the whole point - just wait for the song to be over and we will get back to the movie. Feel that American Beat.

I had the good fortune to discuss this and other Super-Rock Fleshtones matters with the one and only Peter Zaremba, the Fleshtones band member who sings, plays harmonica and the keyboards (for the uninitiated, the other band members include Keith Streng on guitar, Ken Fox on bass and Bill Mihizer on drums). He was also once the host of MTV's "I.R.S. Records Presents the Cutting Edge" from 1984-87. The Fleshtones, one of the best live bands on Earth, had played at the now defunct CBGB's in New York in 1976 and have been on the road ever since, even to this day. Mr. Zaremba took a few moments from his Spain tour to discuss the use of  the band's songs in films, his own treatment for a film that never got made, and his love for the theme of "Modesty Blaise."

1.) Tell me the story of having to re-record the song "American Beat" (original recording was in 1979) for the 1984 raunchy comedy, "Bachelor Party." I understand the issue of re-recording came down to rights to the song and, though I think it is a song that could've or should've been more commercially viable considering the box-office success of the film, I still do not get the connection of that song to that movie. I like when songs feature lyrics that in some shape or form relate to the film's themes or character arcs, but I do not see it with Tom Hanks as a lovable loser staging a bachelor party.

Peter Zaremba: 'I haven't thought about the exact circumstances for quite a while! Actually, we had gotten the rights back for the material we had recorded for Red Star already at that point. Miles had wanted us to rerecord Shadow Line for "Urgh! A Music War" and our first IRS album. Marty Thau was very reasonable about the whole thing and let us have all our songs back at a very low price as not to hold us up, and that included "American Beat," which of course I should have entitled "American Sound" but I was too clever by a half in those days. Anyway, Keith came up with the idea to rerecord the song with horns. Miles Copeland was working on that movie for Tom Hanks at that time. he was very involved in more than just the soundtrack. It's too bad the movie was already completed because when the director and producers heard "American Beat" they liked it so much they made it the 'theme' to "Bachelor Party" and said they would have had us perform the song in the movie if it hadn't been too late. They also used "Hall Of Fame." In typical Fleshtones fashion, we never built on that great 'in' to movie work because we manage to insult the director, the producers, Tom Hanks and everyone else by mocking the movie in front of them all during the studio screening. I think Keith also feel asleep during it, right next to Hanks who of course noticed. Hanks next film was "Splash,"  his real breakthrough into major box office star - "Bachelor Party"  actually did quite well for reasons I never understood. Oh well, it was great for us anyway. As to our songs connection to anything in the film well, you said it but it was cool that the film makers liked our music so much, up to that point!'


2.) Was an official soundtrack ever released for the crazy 1985 flick, "The Party Animal", and how did featuring songs like "Roman Gods" and "Right Side of a Good Thing" come into play for that film?

Peter Zaremba:  'I don't think there ever was an official album. Bob Singerman was our manager at that time and since we knew all these good bands with good tracks like REM and Smithereens, he got everyone on to the soundtrack. I wrote a theme song for it that the Fleshtones recorded, but the demo was so primitive that it was rejected. I rewrote the lyrics and we recorded it as "Whatever Makes You Happy" for both The Fleshtones and The Love Delegation.'

3.) I like that the soundtrack for 1986's "My Chauffeur" that features a sampling of your band's song "What's So New About You" in addition to "Tommy Gets his Tonsils Out" by the Replacements. Definitely an eclectic mix for a lighthearted movie. Is it a little more exciting to be featured in a soundtrack where another terrific band is featured, or were you unaware about who else was on the soundtrack?

Peter Zaremba: 'Oh that was Roberts again. He had a knack for getting these connections for a while. I have never seen the film, I thought it was soft core porno or something."

                                                          
4.) With the exception of 1996's "To Gillian On Her 37th Birthday" and 1987's "I Was a Teenage Zombie," the Fleshtones have not been featured in any other film soundtracks since. Or have they? Were there any other projects that had considered a sampling of your music? I keep thinking directors like Jim Jarmusch, Martin Scorsese, Todd Phillips, Oliver Stone and others might have benefited by using some of your band's music for their kamikaze, frenzied and perhaps lyrical filmmaking styles.

Peter Zaremba: 'What's the movie about Gillian's Birthday? Never heard of it. maybe it's a Streng song? (Note: Song "Let's Go" is used) Well to answer your question, no I don't think so although I do think our songs would be perfect for movies. I get really jealous when I hear all the cool songs in these movies by the directors you mention. Yeah, Jim Jarmusch, he was casting once at the Bayou Hotel in New Orleans when we were staying there, but we were too busy or shy or whatever to approach him . What was that movie he was shooting then? Down By Law? was that him? And Scorsese! I'd die to get into one of his movies, we'd fit right in! "Wolf Of Wall Street"? Sure. "Goodfellas"? Hell, we knew some of those people!

I wrote a treatment for a movie called "The Ghoulman." I thought it was pretty good actually and Robert sent it around to some Hollywood people who shop that kind of stuff I got. A great rejection letter back. It was so good that I titled the letter "critique of Ghoulman". I still have it somewhere. This woman really took the treatment apart point by point, but at least she seriously read the idea, maybe too seriously. Too ahead of its time. Of course many films of a somewhat similar vein have been done since then. Too bad, but it did have all these Ghoulman songs that we wound up recording. Oddly enough, the song "For A Smile" that we recently recorded with Mary Huff was also intended for that soundtrack, originally entitled "Johnny Go Wild." I intended it to be sung by the late Wendy Wild.

I don't think we've had a song perfectly used in a soundtrack yet, although I dug "I'm Back Again" coming out of a radio in "The Wire." Scorsese really uses rock and roll well. Keith has a track called Le Mistral, maybe THAT was used as a b side of a single or a vinyl only album track, anyway, I mixed that with movie theme use in mind. no takers....yet!

Hey I love the theme to "Modesty Blaise" (1966 spy comedy starring Monica Vitti and Terence Stamp) ever since I first heard it booming out of the speakers in the movie house as a kid. I like a lot of other stuff by Johnny Dankworth, like that song in the party scene in "Darling" (1965 film starring Julie Christie). I'd like to cover that, maybe in French!'

Noir wrapped in ivory silk

THE DEEP END (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2001)

I was stunned after seeing "The Deep End." Here is a film noir story with the machinations of the thriller genre but all wrapped in ivory silk, as if any and all cliches that could occur are withheld in the service of melancholia. This is noir that is not really bleak and a thriller that looks for behavioral characteristics to thrill us, all told with an absorbing sense of serenity that distinguishes it from most other thrillers.

The film begins with a jeep arriving at some undisclosed nightclub in Reno. A tall, lanky, red-headed woman warns a sleazy guy to stay away from her son. We are unaware of what the situation is but we know he represents sleaze and we know she is a worrisome mother. It turns out the mother's son, Beau (Jonathan Tucker), is having a homosexual affair with Darby Reese (Josh Lucas), the sleazy guy at the nightclub who owes a huge gambling debt. Beau's mother, Margaret (Tilda Swinton), wants him to stay away from Darby since all he represents is trouble. When Darby makes an unscheduled visit at their house in Lake Tahoe, Beau pleads with him to keep away. Darby will keep away if Margaret pays him $5,000. A fight ensues resulting in the accidental death of Darby. The next day Margaret finds the body and thus, the film's moral center takes over in an unusual, lyrical manner.

I will not say much more except that this serenely modest thriller is different from most Hitchcock thrillers in that usually the protagonist and the audience is aware of information that no one else is aware of. In this case, we know the truth behind the accidental death of Darby that no one else in the movie knows. Not even the seedy man from Reno knows (played by"E.R.'s" Goran Visnjic) who demands money to keep his mouth shut from what might be a potential murder. And Margaret does her best to keep calm and hide Darby's body. She wants to protect her son, her father-in-law, and her other son and daughter from the evils of the world, notably Reno.

Tilda Swinton is clearly the star of "The Deep End," imbuing the screen with a vitality and strength that is breathtaking to witness. I have only seen her in one other film, the magnificent "Orlando," but her performance here makes me want to pursue her earlier work. Perhaps even more so than Cate Blanchett, Swinton has a sense of authority as the doting, respectful mother that dominates the screen. It is no accident that the number of closeups in the film enhance her strong, magnetic presence. Interestingly, Swinton's Margaret seems to barely take notice of her children except for Beau - it is a family life where the father-in-law is more concerned about her than anyone else (including her unseen husband who is a Navy officer).

"The Deep End" is directed by Scott McGehee and David Siegel III, who previously collaborated on "Suture." They have an uncanny eye for detail and savor appropriately breathless cinematic moments that never disrupt the pace or momentum. I found the shot of Swinton underwater while looking for car keys from Darby's body positively thrilling and unnerving to watch. Also look closely at framed shots of Swinton, usually seen from windows or from other obstructions (one extreme example is a fish-eyed lens shot reflected in a drop of water). Water and glass are prominently featured whenever Swinton's Margaret appears on screen and it nicely balances with the Lake Tahoe setting - prominent yet unassuming.

"The Deep End" is occasionally melodramatic towards the end and climaxes sooner than it should have. Still, a magnificent central performance by Swinton, not to mention an understated cast and a hauntingly lyrical tone that switches from engaging thriller to a heart-rending love story, more than makes up for it.

Small-town acts of violence

IN THE BEDROOM (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"In the Bedroom" has all the hallmarks of a great film - nuanced performances, assured direction and a terrific script of sublime restraint. But like some potentially great films, something happens that prevents them from fulfilling their promise - an extraneous, flawed ending.

Set in the summer season of Camden, Maine, the movie opens with a shot of two lovers roaming in the fields, caressing and kissing each other. Not a word is said between them - love or lust is in the air. Frank Fowler (Nick Stahl), a graduate student, is the boyfriend of the more mature Natalie Strout (Marisa Tomei), a mother and a wife to a lout of a husband. Natalie is about to get divorced and Frank is convinced this woman is the one for him. Of course, Natalie has her problems. She has two kids and an abusive husband, Richard (William Mapother), who insists on moving back into their house to be near the kids. Richard wants Natalie back and is prepared to do anything to get her back.

Meanwhile Frank's parents, Ruth (Sissy Spacek) and Matt (Tom Wilkinson), feel that Frank should be tending to his studies, not to a woman he may not have a future with. Ruth is the more concerned, unforgiving parent who senses trouble around the corner of Frank's future. Matt simply wants his son to be happy and does not boss him around. A fight ensues between Frank and Richard but Frank's father agrees to keep the whole situation quiet.

"In the Bedroom" is the latest in the serene, melancholic noir stories where incidents in a small town determines a character's morality and puts them to the test. It is a methodical, keenly observant drama, told in the same lyrical style as "The Deep End." Therefore, like all films dependent on surprises, it would not be fair to reveal what happens in "In the Bedroom." The surprises and twists in the narrative say as much about the characters as a Hollywoodized plot would. But the last quarter of the film makes such a dramatic turn that I was a little angry and dismayed. Let's just say that Matt's character, a good man and a good father, commits an act of malevolence so unsuspecting and unbelievable that I could not see it as anything beyond a cop-out. Though the closing shots are nicely conveyed, the dramatic U-turn in plotting the development of Matt's character leaves something to be desired.

It is a shame really because three-quarters of "In the Bedroom" is riveting and compelling. Director and co-writer Todd Field (an actor making his feature debut) weaves an amazing cast of actors into phenomenal characterizations within the backdrop of a small town where nothing much happens. Ruth and Matt are two characters I will not soon forget. Ruth is a choral director by day who seems to lack much communication with her silent husband. Matt is a doctor by day who plays cards with his buddies and is mostly intent on living his life day-by-day. He might also be taking his wife for granted and Ruth senses this and acknowledges as such. Spacek and Wilkinson are a match made in heaven and wonderful to watch in each and every scene.

"In the Bedroom" is a film of silences and gestures - a look or a stare says more than an actual line of dialogue. Consider one terrifically timed scene where Matt sits at his buddy's restaurant by the window and he notices a truck that arrives and stops exactly where he sits. The logo on the truck is "Strout." Or consider moments where Ruth watches her husband mow the lawn after a tragic incident has taken place in their lives. Todd Field has a future as a director if he wishes to pursue it - he knows silence is golden in accentuating characters' emotions. It's just that his endings need improvement.

TANTRA, BABY!

GO (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(originally written in 1999)

I have become sickened by all the Tarantino rip-offs, too many to mention. Almost all have none of the grace, wit or humanity that dear Quentin invests in his own works. They are like well-designed wallpapers flung with graphic violence, countless obscenities, and numerous rock n' roll/rap songs and packaged as something shocking and new. Some star Michael Madsen, Martin Sheen or Dennis Hopper. "Out of Sight" was the most dazzling but that had the advantage of a great author, Elmore Leonard, as its basis, and Steven Soderbergh, a stylish director. The new "Go" is different - it's as symmetrically close to "Pulp Fiction" as you can imagine but it has an electric energy and volume all its own.

The film begins with a supermarket checkout girl named Ronna (soft-voiced and droopy-eyed Sarah Polley from "Sweet Hereafter") who establishes a drug connection for two handsome soap opera stars, Adam (Scott Wolf) and Zack (Jay Mohr). Ronna's drug of choice is ecstasy, which one member of her elite group nearly overdoses on and imagines speaking to a cat with Zen subtitles. Ronna has to deal with the seedy drug dealer, Todd (Timothy Olyphant), who has a propensity for sexual favors. But when her good friend, Claire (Katie Holmes), another supermarket checkout girl, is left alone with this devil, things truly go haywire.

After Ronna's predicament, we flash back to the beginning of the story told from the point-of-view of a thick-accented, red-haired Brit, Simon (Desmond Askew). Simon is a drug connection for Todd (Ronna is the replacement) and goes off to Vegas with his pals, including the suave Marcus (Taye Diggs) and a stoner who thinks he's black, Tiny (Breckin Meyer - always the pothead). Unfortunately, after a debacle involving backroom lap-dancers ("Do not touch!"), they are now on the run from a vicious gangster (the terrifically oily J.E. Freeman). And it is here where we experience one of the most dazzling car chases ever filmed to the tune of Steppenwolf's "Magic Carpet Ride."

Then the story flashes back again and we see the story told from the point-of-view of the two soap opera stars, who are working undercover under the tutelage of the Teutonic cop Burke (William Fichtner), a character that makes you squirm. Burke invites the pair to a Christmas dinner that is fraught with misunderstandings and unclear intentions. Let's just say it is a howler of a sequence, guaranteed to keep you laughing at its inevitable payoff.

The characters, as well as the audience, experience one near-catastrophe after another, and all the characters seem intent to make a whole 24-hour, Rashomon-like experience as dangerously exciting as possible with no inhibitions - they will do absolutely anything for thrills. There are gangsters, awry drug deals, dances to the tune of "Macarena," distorted visions, extreme violence, conversations about Tantric sex and the comic "The Family Circus," and lots more to feast the eyes and the ears.

"Go" is suffused with electric energy throughout - there is not a moment that is not thrilling or kinetic in any way. Director Doug Liman ("Swingers") frames his charismatic actors with tension abounding every step of the way by means of a constantly roving camera. The opening titles show a stroboscopic club where silhouetted patrons dance the night away in light blue hues, and the editing is lightning-paced. This brilliantly sets up the rest of the film's pace, and sometimes Liman will slow down long enough to study the actor's faces.

I enjoyed all the actors on screen, but Sarah Polley has a dole-like quality that is more realistic than the cardboard teens shown in other films - I could not stop looking at her. Katie Holmes displays a sensuousness and a charm that made me swoon. I also liked the merry soul of Taye Diggs, a definite star-in-the-making.

"Go" may remind many of "Pulp Fiction," but this film has its own momentum, and plenty of style to spare. It's a crazy film that will keep you on edge - funny, energetic, joyous, jolting, ironic, and tense. You can't ask for a better time at the movies.

Bogart some other joint

PINEAPPLE EXPRESS (2008)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Maybe if I had laughed more than I had in the first twenty minutes, I might have given "Pineapple Express" more than a pass. But after twenty minutes of spontaneous chatter about marijuana, the show "227" and some high-school theatrics, "Pineapple Express" becomes a depressingly and distressingly moronic and monotonous time-waster.

Seth Rogen is Dale, a process server who wears various disguises to deliver subpoenas. Dale loves to smoke weed and buys it from a drug dealer named Saul (James Franco), whose very existence is on being an intercontinental expert on weed. Oh, yes, Saul loves to smoke too, especially a type of weed called "Pineapple Express," the kind of weed that smells like "God's vagina" and smoking it is the equivalent of killing a unicorn. These types of absurd metaphoric lines are what makes "Pineapple Express" special at first - a sort of "Harold and Kumar" or Cheech and Chong stoked on an absurd, nirvana high. These scenes give the movie a special lively kick of zonked-out humor played with a certain level of restraint. Seth and Franco seem relaxed, confident, and stoned.

But then Dale witnesses a murder at Ted Jones' house - Ted Jones (Gary Cole) is supposed to be served with one of Dale's subpoenas but that can obviously wait. Jones also buys weed from Saul, especially the pineapple express which no one else outside of Ted or Saul smoke. Yes, Dale smokes some, and throws it out the window when he sees the shooting. A drug war starts between the Asian crime syndicate (do not ask) and Ted Jones and his band of incompetent hit men. They are looking for Dale, whom they mistake as Asian. Rosie Perez pops up as a crooked cop who participated in the murder. We get car chases, brutal beatings, shootings, burnings, crushed bodies, and a poor soul named Red (Danny R. McBride) who is shot several times but manages to survive, ready for battle. Then there is Dale's high-school girlfriend and Ed Begley, Jr. as the girl's father and more confusion inside suburbia, and the movie rambles on and on.

Unfortunately, precious little of this is funny. "Pineapple Express" automatically thinks that such a wayward, formulaic plot is funny, but it is nothing more than a toked remake of "True Romance" (Franco's stoned character is based on Brad Pitt's stoner in "True Romance"). In fact, director David Gordon Green amps up the violence to such a degree that you might think you stepped into a high-octane action picture. Tarantino could handle this sort of thing with flair and comic timing yet "Pineapple Express" becomes grossly overdone and thrusts on overkill with a huge body count. I won't say it rivals a Rambo picture but there are more killings than in "Pulp Fiction." There is a solidly hilarious car chase involving two police cars and Saul's leg stuck through the windshield. Unfortunately, there aren't enough of these wild, frantic visual gags as such. Compared to the Coens' classic stoner comedy, "The Big Lebowski," itself a stoned noir comedy that gradually loses interest in its own plot, "Pineapple Express" falls quite precipitously by comparison.

Seth Rogen is smartly cast and has a good rapport with James Franco - they have their bromance that actually works. Their early scenes at Saul's apartment or their endless chatter when stuck in the middle of the woods are witty and pungent. The rest of the movie just wallows in hysteria and drawn-out gunfire and repetitive stabbings, beatings, slashings, immolation, etc. It just leaves a nasty aftertaste for the alleged stoner comedy of the first twenty minutes. It needed more of "The Big Lebowski" stoned flavor to really be (s)toked.

Getting high on life

UP IN SMOKE (1978)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Stoner comedies are not my particular cup of tea but Cheech and Chong, the stoner duo du jour, can often make me laugh. Some of their subsequent comedies like "Nice Dreams" and "Things are Tough all Over" had the occasional laughs. Then there was the atrocious "Still Smokin," which I imagine one could endure by being injected with sodium pentathol so that one can safely sleep through it. "Up in Smoke" is clearly the best Cheech and Chong comedy ever, resorting to some pure laughs and silly standout sequences that will make you smile.

The movie establishes a stoner feel from the opening scenes. We see Cheech Marin as Pedro De Pacas, a stoner to be sure who wakes up from his couch and finds his foot in a bowl of cereal! Then he dances a little jig before getting into his car that has an interior of blue fur and other colorful assortments (reportedly Jack Nicholson's actual car at one time!) and the soundtrack cranks up a perfect stoner's song (or so I've been told), War's "Low Rider." Pedro picks up a drummer, Anthony "The Man" Stoner (Thomas Chong), whom he mistakes for a woman! Then The Man hands Pedro a fattie as humongous as fatties can get. This is followed by a brief dose of acid before being pulled over by the cops while Pedro laughs hysterically. Yes, it is that kind of movie.

Hot on their tail is Sgt. Stedenko (Stacy Keach), a determined cop who has incompetent partners and uses a cleaning service van as a cover. Nice idea. Meanwhile, Pedro and The Man get hold of a rinky-dinky van made out of potent hash and have to drive it from Mexico to California, without getting pulled over by the cops. Along the way we get plenty of laughs involving awry sting operations by the cops, Tom Skerritt as a Vietnam Vet with a noticeable birthmark, Cheech and Chong getting stoned out of their minds from scene to scene, a red-haired woman who has an accent that is difficult to discern, a dog that passes out from smelling that mary jane smoke, and a fairly rousing battle of the bands climax (though there is no real ending).

There are some lulls and one too many scenes of Chong falling flat on his face yet this is a sweet, likable, thoroughly spirited movie. "Up in Smoke" will still depend largely on your tolerance level towards Cheech and Chong. If it is high (no pun intended), you'll enjoy the heck out of it. If it is low, consider smoking a big fattie instead.

Imagine a peaceful nation

THE U.S. VS. JOHN LENNON (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2007)

When I think of the late John Lennon, I think of one word: Peace. That is what encapsulated the meaning of his famous song, "Imagine," and more obviously, "Give Peace a Chance." But peace can be seen as a threat to the national order, specifically our government, and especially during a time of war. The latest documentary about Lennon, "The U.S. vs. John Lennon," focuses on the goverment's attempt to shut him up and bring him down.

John Lennon has always been the abrasive, outspoken Beatle, despite his pacifist, ideological views. In a sense, he was the most confrontational and the one people really listened to. No other celebrity has ever managed to have a bedroom protest for days with the media present, sing "Give Peace a Chance" repeatedly and have others sing along, give numerous interviews on the "Mike Douglas Show" and the "Dick Cavett Show" and, in short, make our goverment and our own President of the U.S. nervous. The real question is: why did Lennon make them nervous? Perhaps, Lennon's savvy skills as a PR person, as well as maintaining press conferences, giving interviews, spreading his message of peace and trying vainly to end the Vietnam War were all too prevalent - clearly, the message was working. Yoko Ono was his partner, but radical activists who decried the war are also mentioned, including the late Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin. Lennon took it a step further - he became a latter-day Gandhi and used rock n' roll as his tool, and bed-ins for instrumenting change.

The film's time period runs roughly from 1966 until Lennon's unfortunate murder in December of 1980. We see the mop-topped Beatle was no ordinary Beatle at all - he infamously claimed that his band, the Beatles, was more popular than Jesus. Though later Lennon clarified his error, he did say that they were in fact more popular after all. As everyone knows, the Beatles didn't remain a group forever, thus enabling John Lennon to carve his own personal niche with his own songs, recorded his way (we hear over 40 of them from "Well, Well, Well" to the tear-inducing, powerful peace anthem "Give Peace a Chance" to "Beautiful Boy"). Interestingly, as high profile as Lennon got (and he certainly eclipsed Hoffman and Rubin), the more trouble he was for the Nixon administration. Nixon, the late Strom Thurmond and the other powers-that-be bugged Lennon's phones, followed him everywhere (and not always incognito) and even tried to get him deported due to a marijuana charge back in England! As clearly stated by John Dean, former White House Counsel for Nixon, the peace demonstrations were a definite concern. Let's not forget the "War is Over - If You Want It" signs/billboards that were plastered all over the world.

The problem is that some of this focus is lost when we hear only incidental interviews from certain parties. Jerry Rubin, Angela Davis, Black Panther co-founder Bobby Seale, liberal author Gore Vidal, and Yoko Ono contribute some positive insights about Lennon and the paranoia of the times. As for the negative insights of this Beatle, we hear strong words from G. Gordon Liddy who feels that if Lennon hated America and its war, he should've left (Mighty strong words coming from someone who contributed to the Nixon resignation in such ugly times). Incredibly, Liddy feels even less apologetic about the Kent State massacre. But we hear precious little about Lennon's thoughts on the unpopular war, or even from those close to him. We do know that after Nixon got re-elected, Lennon stayed out of the limelight - perhaps he knew that peace was not an option anymore. But why did he give up? What happened in those years after Nixon got re-elected and Vietnam ended? And is there an implication from Yoko that Lennon was killed by the government, hence Mark David Chapman, Lennon's assassin, and that he was a trained CIA operative? Did the government still feel Lennon was some sort of threat to the upcoming Reagan era?

As a film, "The U.S. vs. John Lennon" definitely recaptures those trying times and the hope that things could change. In many ways, it is still relevant in the Bush era, considering we have an unpopular war that hardly anybody wants. But nobody is expressing peace or hope the way John Lennon did during Vietnam - we have no one to motivate us and spring for a change and counter the way our goverment behaves. All we have, for better or worse, is Rosie O'Donnell, Bill Maher, John Stewart and a host of comedians doubling as political experts who bash Bush and the war any chance they get. But nobody is truly saying, "Give peace a chance." Maybe it is too scary a thought in this day and age, even for our Democratic presidential candidates, to utter such a word. Lennon did use it, and meant it. He saw beyond politics, as even the late John F. Kennedy did.

I certainly admire "The U.S. vs. John Lennon" but I think it shortchanges John Lennon, presenting him more as the myth than the man. We know he had his foibles and flaws, and I only wish the filmmakers showed more of that. Or maybe they just want to continue to provide Lennon as the synonym for peace. Maybe that is not such a bad idea after all.

Space Oddity rivets the attention

MOON (2009)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Moon" is an odd duck of a movie, so relentlessly sad and despairing that it might make sentimentalists crazy. Of course, "Moon" is also a throwback to a bygone era, the 1970's sci-fi flicks that told stories in imaginative and unusual ways in unusual settings. Yep, some of them had sad endings too.

Sam Rockwell is Sam Bell, an astronaut at a lunar station, and his three year stint of sending canisters of helium-3 back to Earth (our planet is in worse shape than it is now) and tracking harvesters, which extract helium from moon rocks that provide pollution-free power back to our home planet, is coming to an end. This job looks quite boring and he is the sole occupant of this station. Sam does talk to computers, specifically a talkative, sometimes intrusive HAL-9000-type computer named GERTY (voiced by Kevin Spacey) who is his eyes and ears to any transmission sent or received to Earth, including video messages sent by Sam's wife and daughter. But something is happening to Sam. He hallucinates and thinks a girl is in the station that could be his daughter. A video transmission is apparently tampered with. When he investigates problems with the harvester in his rover, there is an accident and somehow Sam is dragged back to the infirmary. How is this possible if GERTY is always inside the station? Is there someone else on the moon?

I rather not give away too much information but, suffice to say, there may be more going on the station than Sam Bell is aware of. The trick in a film dealing with loneliness (and what can be more lonely than space?) is finding the right actor to keep us motivated and compelled. Debuting director Duncan Jones could not have chose anyone better than Sam Rockwell, an underappreciated actor whose offbeat nature keeps us guessing and wondering. Rockwell doesn't have a predictable bone in his range of mannerisms, and supplies just enough credibility and compassion to make us care for his plight. There is also some business about how Lunar Industries, a fictional company, is implementing cost-cutting measures to have their lucrative business kept afloat without losing a dime. I will not reveal how this is happening but I can say Rockwell and especially GERTY keeps us wondering. Once the truth is out, the film grows more despairing and more thoughtful.

"Moon" reminds me a lot of "Silent Running," a highly offbeat sci-fi picture from the 70's that starred Bruce Dern. Whereas "Silent Running" dealt with environmental concerns, "Moon" deals with the fragility of humanity in intriguing ways, and the dire cost of outsourcing jobs. I can't say more than that, or maybe I have said too much already. GERTY might have recommended keeping this review down to a single paragraph to avoid potential spoilers. If you like sci-fi films that deal with ideas, put your thinking caps on and you will have quite an experience with "Moon." I am sure GERTY would agree. 

9/11 Reimagined as a Monster Movie

CLOVERFIELD (2008)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Cloverfield" is an anxiety-ridden, claustrophobic nightmare of a movie. It is 9/11 reimagined as a monster movie, only the monsters are not terrorists but rather an actual monster with a Godzilla-like snarl and rage against anything in its path. The fact that it is set in New York City makes this movie impactful and the monster significantly scarier than I had imagined. 

"Cloverfield" states from the beginning that we are watching a government file - found footage of a horrific night in New York City. Anxiety seems to set in right from the start. Yuppies are at a going-away party held for the young vice-president of a company, Rob (Michael Stahl-David), who is travelling to his new job in Japan. We are watching a hand-held camcorder capturing these events and if you are reading this and saying, "God, not another amateur found footage flick a la "Blair Witch Project," think again. We know something is about to happen, but what? The new vice-president is royally pissed that his platonic female friend, whom he had slept with, is seeing a new guy. And then, the horror starts. An earthquake sound rattles everyone. An explosion is seen in the distance. The severed head of the Statue of Liberty rolls along the city streets. Pandemonium sets in. It is a monster with a lethal tail, destroying any and everything in its path. But why, and where does it come from? "Cloverfield" never answers these questions.

"Cloverfield" is a straight-faced, interminably terrifying rush of a movie, laced with a real sense of terror. The monster is barely seen so we have to imagine its rampage, eliciting from our hand-held point-of-view shots only glimpses (we really get a sense of the enormity of the creature at the end). The movie never slows down for a second and the anxiety of getting away from the terror builds, even for its rather short 74-minute excursion. It helps that we care about the characters. Michael Stahl-David's Rob cares about his newfound girlfriend, even if she cheated on him, and races to find her in easily one of the most thrilling rescues I've ever seen (let's say it deals with a nearly toppled apartment building). Hud (T.J. Miller - hilarious stand-up comic in real life) is the camcorder-carrying member, documenting all the action and providing a few nervous laughs (as the late Roger Ebert suggested, how much power does that camcorder battery have that it lasts through an entire night into the next day?). There is also Marlena (Lizzy Caplan, a hypnotic presence), the dizzying and dazed girl whom Hud has a thing for. We care just enough about these characters to hope they make it out alive, and director Matt Reeves allows for a few contemplative moments where we get to focus on the trauma and the impact it has on its victims.

"Cloverfield" is a great movie experience but it may be a bit much for those who are still conflicted and traumatized by 9/11. There is a lot of that imagery here, including clouds of dust that may make you squeamish, more so than in Steven Spielberg's dark, bleak remake of "War of the Worlds." Aside from Oliver Stone and Paul Greengrass, fewer and fewer films have truly dealt with the tragedy of that fateful day. Action movies, horror films and other genre pictures have used the iconic imagery of 9/11 to spice up their own films. "Cloverfield" feels utterly real and in the moment, words which I never imagine using to describe a Godzilla rip-off/homage. But this movie is not eye candy - it is an emotional response to caring for one another and trying to survive in these tough times. This is where "Cloverfield" really strikes its chord.

Skippy as a metalhead!

TRICK OR TREAT (1986)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I am no fan of heavy metal music nor am I a fan of Marc Price. Therefore it seems unlikely both would be linked together in a movie. "Trick or Treat" has no tricks up its sleeve and is no delicious treat to sit through.

Marc Price plays Eddie Weinbauer, an introverted heavy-metal fan who is obsessed by one metalhead, Sammi Curr (Tony Fields). Curr dies in a hotel fire and now Eddie is devastated (he hears this news while writing a letter to him). Eddie feels Sammi is the only one that could understand him, and he is definitely right (both are from the same high school). The local DJ (creepily played by Gene Simmons) gives Eddie the only copy of Sammi's last record. But when Eddie plays the LP, he notices that there are hidden messages conveyed when the record is played backwards. The messages contain instructions on how to torment and kill all the school bullies that are hounding Eddie.

Though it has a good enough premise for a low-budget horror flick, the movie flounders after a nicely effective opening. Marc Price, formerly known as the nerdish, oblivious Skippy on TV's "Family Ties," is completely unbelievable as someone who would love heavy metal music, much less dance to it. His line readings in close-up shots reek of complete implausibility - he stares and winks while delivering jokey sentences. I am not surprised that Price has never gotten far beyond the confines of this disastrous horror pic - all I can say is that he has less charisma than on the TV show. He doesn't look like a heavy metal fan, and his long black hair and puppy dog eyes elicit zilch in terms of nuance or any emotion.

The movie flounders with many setpieces where Eddie confronts the bullies and is terminally tricked and embarrassed in front of the whole school (my favorite is when Eddie is thrown naked out of the shower into a women's gym class). A nice touch is seeing heavy metal singer Ozzy Osbourne play a reverend who considers heavy metal music immoral. I also like a bit involving a reptilian creature that has its way with a horny teenage girl in the backseat of the car (though I hope someone can enlighten me on what the creature has to do with the rest of the movie).

"Trick or Treat" has no wit, no surprise, no atmosphere and no scares. Trick and treating is probably more fun than watching this steaming pile of junk.

Buscemi's Ode to Valley Stream

TREES LOUNGE (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(Originally written in 2002)

"Trees Lounge" is the story of Tommy, an unemployed drunk who flirts with the ladies and lives in a depressing small town on Long Island, New York. He can't find work as an auto mechanic so he starts driving an ice-cream truck after the owner dies of a heart attack (played by veteran Seymour Cassel). Tommy can't help but drink himself to a stupor at the Trees Lounge bar where he maintains an apartment upstairs. Night after night, he drowns himself in disillusionment with his friends. Tommy's life might have some meaning, though, when he has a brief dalliance with a teenager who can't inhale cigarettes, Debbie (Chloe Sevigny). Problem is she's too young and her father, Jerry (a terrifyingly funny Daniel Baldwin) may just kill  Tommy if he finds out.

The movie is packed with a great cast of actors including an old drunk David Lynch-type named Billy (Bronson Dudley) who continually stares into space; the fat drunk moving company owner, Mr. Hyde (Mark Boone Jr.); Tommy's old and pregnant flame, Theresa (Elizabeth Bracco); Chloe Sevigny as the aforementioned ingenue who enjoys going for a ride in Tommy's ice-cream truck; and Tommy's former angry employer, Rob (Anthony LaPaglia) who is Theresa's husband.

Most of all, it is Steve Buscemi who makes a big impression as writer, director and star of an exuberantly 

fresh and wonderfully made sleeper. His rat-like features and skeleton body underlie a deeply troubled soul 

searching for some escape from this town. At its best, "Trees Lounge" looks and feels like a depressing smalltown where life continues to go on, even if its inhabitants do not.                                               

It is time that the Academy Awards recognize the talent of independent spirits like Steve Buscemi (as of 2002, they still haven't). If Hollywood hasn't learned the sad truth yet, it's that quantity isn't everything.

Terry Gilliam's Unfinished Opus

LOST IN LA MANCHA (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I remember being a cameraman's assistant during the Zozobra Festival, an annual event in Santa Fe, New Mexico. There was live music and food, and it went on for many hours. After it was all over, the TV director who helped to direct it for live TV was visibly upset. It was a disappointment for whatever reason. Maybe she didn't get all the shots she had hoped for, who knows. But that glazed look of disappointment is exactly what you see in director Terry Gilliam's face in the fascinating and upsetting documentary, "Lost in La Mancha."

Terry Gilliam, the former Monty Python member who made movies with big, fantastical ideas and epic, profound visuals that no one else could conjure in films ranging from "Brazil" to "12 Monkeys," is seen on working on his latest project, "The Man who Killed Don Quixote," a labor of love he had been trying to adapt for ten years. A 32 million dollar budget has been approved with European investors (Hollywood turned its back on it). Costumes are designed, sets are constructed, actors are hired, and everything seems to be in working order. A French actor named Jean Rochefort has been hired to play Don Quixote, and he looks the part and has learned enough English to do it justice. Johnny Depp has been hired to play a hero from the future who plays the part of Sancho Panza. Three actors are hired to play giants. As I said before, this production looks good and practically classic Gilliam.

Problems arise on the first day shooting in the desert where fighter jets are in the skies, the extras have not rehearsed their roles, bad weather leads to flooding, etc. Gilliam gets bewildering stares when he asks if the production's equipment is insured. Rochefort is clearly uncomfortable due to possible prostate pain and has to fly back to France to see a doctor. Delays continue and, after all the investors come to visit a scene near a waterfall with Depp mouthing off to a dead fish, a pervading feeling of doom settles in. Will Rochefort be able to come back and continue his Don Quixote role? Is this all the assistant director's fault?

A lot of this is engrossing material and, almost simulatenously, perplexing - why didn't Gilliam seek to replace Rochefort or why not keep shooting whatever scenes were needed without Rochefort? Also, despite the fact that Depp was not the blockbuster star he became until "Pirates of the Caribbean" when this movie was shot, why not take the time-travel concept further, rewrite it a little and introduce a new character played by Depp or maybe Marlon Brando? There are many what-ifs in this scenario - for a hefty budget, the production could've been remedied without being shut down or maybe the Europeans are less forgiving than Hollywood when things go wrong and the budget increases. I sense there is more to this documentary that we are not seeing.

"Lost in La Mancha" serves as food for thought on the logistics of what can go wrong with the shooting of a big-budget movie. But there are too many questions and not enough answers as to the film's unfortunate shutdown. Orson Welles once tried to make a Don Quixote movie with the added plot of a director trying to make a movie about the subject. Gilliam could have done the same, without documenting just his frustration.

A Poor "Black Man" adopted by Mabel King

THE JERK (1979)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Comedy is a rare gift for anyone, whether it is the writers or the actors who have to perform it. Timing is everything and Carl Reiner's "The Jerk" is an oddball comedy. It was Steve Martin's first foray into a comedic leading role, playing the most insanely dumb and most ignorant white man on Earth. You know you are ignorant when you think you're a poor black man.

Martin is Navin, adopted by Southern black sharecroppers who bear nothing but absolute love for him. One day, after hearing a radio channel where jazz music is playing, Navin is inspired to hit the road and appear on radio! His family supports him but they are afraid he might discover what a cruel white man's world it really is. Nevertheless, after Navin hitchhikes across the country, he works at a gas station (and assumes the public toilet is his bedroom!), works at a circus where he gets a tattooed, motorcycle-driving female daredevil who consistently has sex with him, operates a mini-railroad ride for kids where he meets the sweet Marie (Bernadette Peters), and eventually invents a new pair of eyeglasses with a built-in support mechanism for the nose so they do not fall off. Naturally, Navin's new invention makes him filthy rich. And this is where the film lost me. For somebody so dimwitted and naive about everything, it turns out Navin inadvertently invents something that is supposedly useful. The fact is that the sympathetic Navin becomes a wild and crazy guy who wants to party and has no scruples - I just didn't buy it.

"The Jerk" has too many long pauses, too many hesitations when in fact it should drive forward with the special brand of that kinetic Reiner engine (it worked in "All of Me" and "Oh, God!"). The engine this time floats around, and some gags run on too long. When Navin tries to buy time with some discovered Latino thieves at the gas station, I lost patience because the gag is drawn out. The payoff works but the buildup is slow as Navin keeps running back into the gas station over and over again to keep the thieves waiting. Same with a crazy shooter (M. Emmett Walsh) who tries to kill Navin at the gas station. The shooter shoots at one paint can, then another, and another, and another until you say, get on with it already!

I liked "The Jerk" overall and Steve Martin is often quite hysterical. He is the kind of physical comedian who can't stay still for long - he always has to gyrate or use his body language to emphasize distress or anxiety. Jackie Mason is a showstopper of a presence with his perfectly timed one-liners. I can't help but adore Mabel King as Navin's adopted mother - her unadulterated love for her son is heartbreakingly real. I only wish that the comedic gags were exerted with far more energy and pizazz.

Curtains for the critics!

THEATRE OF BLOOD (1973)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Vincent Price was the Grand Guignol of cinema, the man with the snarling, exquisite voice that pronounced chilling, spine-tingling horrors. His charm and elegance left impressions of cold, remorseless evil, but with a smile. At his best, he remained true to this persona, fixating audiences with his stare and arched eyebrows and twirling mustache. Though his career was strewn with villainy, "Theater of Blood" was an attempt at showing audiences and critics that he could be a towering actor when it came to drama, if only someone had given him the chance.

Price plays Edward Lionheart, a hammy Shakesperean actor who has endured critical beatings in every one of his plays. He had been accused time and again of being over-the-top yet also as someone who could make a grand exit. Lionheart thought he would be bestowed with the prestigious Critic's Circle award for best actor in his last play when instead a young newcomer receives the award. Lionheart visits his critics at a gathering and lambasts them for ignoring his work, and supposedly commits suicide. A few years later, one critic after another is killed in grisly ways, and the murders ape the murders in the very Shakespeare plays Lionheart had appeared in. Nobody thinks of accusing Lionheart at first, considering he is supposed to be dead, but Lionheart's own daughter, Edwina (Diana Rigg), may have the answers to the culprit responsible.

All the critics are astounded at what is happening. Police protection is used, but the critics never realize the lengths to which this murderer aspires to. A wine tasting event turns sour. Fencing practice becomes a realistic duel. A cooking show turns into a Grand Guignol of tastelessness. A hairstyling dryer becomes an electrocution chamber. The best of these characters is the always colorful Robert Morley as Meredith, a critic who treats his poodles as if they were his own children. There is also the understated Ian Hendry as Peregrine, the youngest of the critics, who was most savage in his attacks agains Lionheart's acting, and possibly the most reasonable.

"Theatre of Blood" has an imaginative conceit at its core - the systematic execution of critics who rip apart actors's performances - but it is nothing more than Hammer horror delivered with a high body count. Yes, all the critics meet their maker (save for one, of course), but the gore is likely to turn off viewers who've enjoyed Price in the delicately strange surroundings of the "Dr. Phibes" movies. I could have lived without seeing blood spurting from decapitated bodies, electrical shock that turns a body into toast, poodles used as a delicacy on the order of "Titus Andronicus," and many other stabbings and mutilations. Yes, gore has gone to far more explicit extremes since 1973 to be sure, but this black comedy thinks gore in and of itself is funny - it is not. There is no maniacal glee or imagination in the killings - they look too much like leftovers from any Hammer horror film (note: I am no big fan of Hammer in general). We are obviously dealing with a demented actor who doesn't see how over-the-top and hysterical his acting has become, not to mention how killing his critics does not improve matters. Had the film concentrated on Lionheart's soulless charisma, it might have been a real winner. As it is, it is merely passable, wicked, crude fun.

Despite the bloody theatrics, "Theater of Blood" does have the towering presence of Vincent Price and he makes the most of his juicy role. He snaps, crackles, shouts and delivers with every bit of wickedness in his body - it is a bravura performance. Just imagine if he had been allowed to tackle Shakespeare in the any of the mentioned plays Lionheart performed in. We might have seen that Price's talent was not just horror.

My mind is crowded

THE DEVIL AND DANIEL JOHNSTON (2005)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I've never heard Daniel Johnston's music but, like any introduction to someone I have next to zero knowledge about, "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" is a haunting and powerful documentary that will prove illuminating enough to want to sample some of his tunes.

Tracing the life of Daniel Johnston proves exhausting and exasperating and frustating, to be sure. Here is a Sacramento, California man (who looks like a shaggier version of Paul LeMat) with manic depression who, from an early age, decorated his basement bedroom into a full-fledged studio for writing songs and drawing his Captain America character in portraits of good and evil. Daniel wanted to be as famous as the Beatles, loved a classmate who was his muse named Laurie (she married a mortician), worked at McDonald's as a busboy (to the point where McDonald's was getting calls from agents), eventually landed a spot on MTV, got acquainted with groups like Sonic Youth and Half Japanese, and then the trouble truly started. He had episodes where he thought the Devil was everywhere, even inside his own friends (he had an obsession with the number 666). He thought people were out to get him, even his own manager whom he fired. It gets to the point where he attacks an elderly woman in her home, and where he nearly kills himself and his father in a private plane. Johnston's reasons for these two strange events were that the elderly woman was pushed out of her two-story bedroom window by the Devil, and the plane incident was his own doing because he was Captain America at that moment. Eventually he is in and out of mental hospitals, which strangely enough builds his legendary status, especially in Austin, Texas.

If you are a fan of Ted Zwigoff's "Crumb," one of the best documentaries ever made, then you'll like "The Devil and Daniel Johnston." Whereas Robert Crumb could separate art from his life, Daniel Johnston feels they are one and the same. Here is a tortured, stubborn artist who filmed most of his life with an 8mm film camera and a video camera, sometimes reenacting his own hellish arguments with his Christian fundamentalist mother by assuming the role of his mother. The question then arises: what contributed to Daniel's mental breakdown at an early age? Was it is his parents who insisted he get a job? Was it the love for Laurie whom he still felt triumphant over even when she got married to someone else? Did his lack of attaining status serve his self-destructive phase? Of course, his albums were never big sellers (5,800 copies were sold through Daniel's new manager at the time) so was he ahead of his time, or are the myths of Daniel's haphazard, chaotic life what make him legendary? The viewer will have to decide.

By the end of "Devil and Daniel Johnston," we see Daniel still living with his parents in Texas and still plugging away at his music with a local punk band. It is difficult to say if Daniel was as manic-depressive as he seemed or if he could control it through his art. That parallel is what makes this film as poetic about the artist's soul as any film I've ever seen.