Judge is jury and executioner

THE STAR CHAMBER (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Michael Douglas playing an idealistic judge who can't combat the L.A. judicial system that allows criminals to get off scot-free after committing heinous murders sounds like a promising idea. Even more promising is the idea of an idealistic judge who unethically decides to secretly play judge and jury with a group of other judges - that sounds almost inspired. Call it Judge With a Death Wish except it is Douglas and a few other judges playing Charles Bronson. Call it whatever you want yet "The Star Chamber" is one of the few seemingly inspired movies that quickly becomes so tiredly uninspired.

The problem is the undernourished screenplay by Roderick Taylor and Peter Hyams (who also directed) that becomes dependent on contrivance. For one, Douglas's Judge Hardin is mostly left on the sidelines, wondering if he can continue to play by the rules of the L.A. court system that lets murderers go (thanks to some very able defendant lawyers who can determine that placing garbage in a garbage truck can't be evidence obtained without necessitating a warrant before the trash is scooped into the truck compartment!) At first, the idea of a crooked judicial system (which was nothing new even in 1983) is intriguing because we sense Hardin's disillusionment and frustration. Everything becomes suspended on a tangled web for Hardin when the father of the one of the murdered boys (James Sikking) attempts to shoot the freed killers only to wound a guard instead. After that same father commits suicide (and another kid is found murdered in a similar fashion), Hardin reluctantly joins a star chamber, a group of judges that meet at Judge Caulfield's house (Caulfield is played by that most reliable actor, Hal Holbrook) to kill selective freed criminals with the aid of a professional hit man.

But it is precisely at this point that "The Star Chamber" falls apart completely. Hardin joins the Star Chamber, okays every hit, and then is wracked with guilt. Over what, his complicity or that he can't shoot the criminals himself or that this secret chamber is the wrong approach? Hard to say because Michael Douglas's performance is so subdued to the point of nonexistence - he comes alive in the latter third of the film when he tries to warn two despicable killers that the chamber wants their blood. Yeah, okay, as if this scenario makes any sense - it is completely contrived. Why bother warning the cold-blooded killers when he may be thinking of dismantling the chamber anyway? Douglas and his Hardin character are so aloof in this film that I never intuitively felt the character possessed any moral right to rectify the abuses within and outside the judicial system. He is the same indifferent sourpuss from beginning to end - watching Michael Douglas's moody character can be an endurance test. So is "The Star Chamber."  

Life, love and Wine-Tastin'

WINE COUNTRY (2019)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is not often that a film about a few middle-aged women in the middle of sunlit vineyards talking about love, life and wine can inspire anyone. With former SNL alums engaged in much banter and slowly serving as a support group for each other, men may hesitantly approach "Wine Country," Netflix's new film. Eradicate all hesitation: "Wine Country" is deliriously funny and contains moments of real humanity. I will not call it the female version of Alexander Payne's "Sideways" but who needs to - it exists on its own honest terms and both films couldn't be further apart in comparison.

A getaway to Napa Valley is planned to a tee by organizing whiz Abby (Amy Poehler) where all her pals (who used to work at a Chicago pizzeria) are gathered to celebrate Rebecca's 50th birthday (she's played by Rachel Dratch). They get to stay inside a rented beautiful house with a sumptuous view of the countryside while sipping wine. Sounds perfect, well, only if these women were generic and bland with no ambitions or drive. Thankfully that is not the case as we are introduced to Catherine (Ana Gasteyer, one of the more underappreciated presences on TV and film), who longs for her phone and business opportunities though the cell reception is not 100%; Val (Paula Pell), a boisterous single woman with a new knee looking for a new missus; Naomi (Maya Rudolph), who desires this time the most, away from her children, and finally grumpy Jenny (Emily Spivey, who co-wrote the film) who loves to sing along to pop tunes but, heaven forbid, any Quentin Tarantino movie soundtracks - she had to coerced into going on this trip.

Most of "Wine Country" has a rhapsodic looseness to it, almost the feeling of disconnected episodes that are not meant to converge in any unifying way until the end. That is the beauty and warmth of it, the innate feeling of closeness to women who you would definitely want to spend a day with (and in what better place than the wonders and endless vineyards of Napa Valley). None of the characters are unappealing or unlikable - they are a more-or-less spirited group who all have emotional issues in their current separate lives yet when they are together, it takes a while before they admit their hangups. That is crucial to the film's success - they are great friends that learn to value their friendship so as to not to lose what they had. Whatever exists in their own world now, they accept and move on as only they can. We see a lot of movies about teens and twentysomethings learning those same valuable lessons yet seeing middle-aged women engaged in them is a rare and welcome opportunity.

There is much to like and admire in "Wine Country." I love the scene where Naomi and Jenny walk in a vineyard where they are not supposed to be, walk away, then walk back awkwardly and then walk away again; the moment of realization that Val's interest in a part-time waitress and graphic artist (who has a Warhol penchant for Fran Drescher) is not mutual; an elongated take where Abby considers having sex with Jason Schwartzman's cook/chauffeur character; Tina Fey as the house owner who has seen everything, and the sad shenanigans of Rebecca whose back goes out on her and spends an entire night laying flat on the floor, carefully considering her marriage. There is also much tomfoolery involving rolling down a hill and drinking wine at various wine-tasting soirees without caring about the nuances of flavors. See, not quite at all like "Sideways" where nuance of wine-tasting was everything.

"Wine Country" is delightful and humanely funny (thanks to writers Spivey and Liz Cackowski) with a sparkling cast that brims and bubbles along with the visual charms of Northern California. I would not call this film vividly great yet, so far, I cannot imagine a more entertaining film in all of 2019.