Mel Brooks' Yogurt-tasting Star Wars

SPACEBALLS (1987)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

I have said it before and I will say it again. Spoofs are often at their best when they mock films that take themselves seriously. The original "Star Wars" was not exactly serious science-fiction, though "The Empire Strikes Back" certainly had a darker tone. Therefore, spoofing something that was in and of itself a subtle send-up of science-fiction serials often presents a problem. Mel Brooks scored high marks with spoofing James Whales' "Frankenstein" and "The Bride of Frankenstein" in "Young Frankenstein" but that worked wonders because the "Frankenstein" films were, on some level, meant to be taken seriously. Brooks's "Spaceballs" has scores of jokes and puns and some of it is funny, but too much broad humor and yuk-yuk jokes prove how stale some of it can be amid the precious gags that work.

The movie opens with an obscenely long shot of a massive space cruiser with a sign that reads "We Brake For Nobody." We meet Dark Helmet (Rick Moranis), who has difficulty breathing through his mask and who intends to steal the atmosphere of the planet Druidia. He has help thanks to President Skroob (Mel Brooks), the president of Spaceball, a neighboring planet of Druidia. Of course, someone must stop him and who better qualified than Lone Starr (Bill Pullman), the stud-like space jockey and his assistant, Barf (the late John Candy), a Mog (half man, half dog), and the "Jewish princess" Princess Vespa (Daphne Zuniga), who is not about to marry Prince Valium. There is also good old Brooks in another role as the all-powerful Yogurt who keeps saying "May the Schwartz be with you" and possesses an all-powerful ring that allows you to use the Schwartz. And how can we forget the oily, edible Pizza the Hut?

"Spaceballs" has lots of great gags. I love the shot where stormtrooper clones literally comb the desert with a giant comb. I also like the lightsaber duel where Dark Helmet keeps bumping into the camera crew. And how about the actor's doubles? Or Michael Winslow from the "Police Academy" films who can mimic all kinds of computerized sounds? And how about the priceless John Hurt reprising his role from "Alien" where his chest bursts with an alien doing a tap dance number? But the joke to end all jokes, the epitome of greatness, is when Dark Helmet and President Skroob watch a videocassette copy of "Spaceballs" the movie and fast-forward to find Lone Starr and his friends. It is a purely hilarious sequence that fits with the postmodernist movement where we are always reminded we are watching a movie.

"Spaceballs" is not a great Brooks comedy like "Young Frankenstein" or "The Producers" but it sure has its fill of clever jokes, amidst juvenile ones, to score a decent mark on the laugh meter. Suffice to say that if you are a fan of "Star Wars," you'll enjoy it more than most.

If...you...men...only...knew, Part 2

EYES WIDE SHUT (1999)
A conclusion of the complete shot-by-shot analysis (or mere description to some) of the late director's last film
By Jerry Saravia

Bill arrives home at four in the morning with his costume in a bag (the entrance door to his apartment is a dark blue color). He walks around the apartment to his daughter Helena's bedroom, which is again lit in blue by the color outside her bedroom window. He shuts his eyes and then opens them, perhaps glad he is home and that his family is safe. Bill walks to his blue-lit study and puts the costume in a cabinet. He comes to his bedroom where Alice is laughing while sleeping, presumably dreaming. Bill wakes her up and she confesses that she dreamt of the naval officer who was mocking her. She then continues describing sexual acts (not all that different from what Bill had seen at the orgy) and her frolicking and having sex with all the men watching her with the naval officer. She says that she saw Bill in the dream and laughed at him mockingly, as she did in their earlier argument scene. Bill is again nonplussed, not to mention speechless, and she hugs him tightly. Fade to black. 

It is the next day, and Bill is seen arriving at the Sonata cafe in a taxi with the costume in his bag. He walks to the cafe but it is closed. Bill walks into a coffee shop called Gillespie's and asks for coffee from a waitress (Carmela Marner) with a British accent and a faded pink shirt. As he sits contemplating, he asks her if she knows of when the Sonata cafe will open again and if she knows Nick Nightingale, the pianist. She says, "Sure. He comes in here." Interestingly, she starts speaking in a New York accent and then reverts back to her British accent almost as is she is disguising herself (I cannot be sure why but it does lend to the film's dreamlike pull). To lend credibility to his fictitious story of supposed medical tests for Nick, he shows his State Medical Board card once again.

Bill arrives at the hotel where Nick had been staying. Still carrying the bag with his costume, he speaks to a gay clerk (Alan Cumming) who is immediately smitten by Bill. Bill again presents his State Medical Board card, and asks him if he saw Nick and if anything unusual had happened to him. The gay clerk tells him that Nick was escorted from the hotel in the early morning by "two big guys, the kind you don't fool around with," chucking at the possibility of making a sexual reference. He also mentions that Nick had a bruise on his cheek and that he looked scared. Bill leaves without much information about Nick's whereabouts.

Bill travels in another taxi to the Rainbow shop to return his costume. He sees Milich again who notices that Bill had forgotten his mask. Bill says he had not left it in the party, though where he had left it is never made clear. Milich's daughter introduces herself to the doctor, and again we see the two Japanese men from the previous night, who have made some arrangement with Milich. Bill is confused and we sense that Milich is a pimp and his daughter is a prostitute. The other possibility is that on the previous night, Milich was only faking his incredulous behavior towards his daughter's sexual antics.

Next we see Bill in his office, which has a pinkish glow coming from the shades. He is fantasizing further about his wife Alice with the naval officer, who are now shown to be nude and making love. His secretary comes into the office and he tells her that he needs to cancel his afternoon appointments.

This time, Bill is driving his Ranger Rover out to Long Island to the mansion. He may either try to retrieve his mask or inquire about Nick, though we are not sure of his intentions. A bluish glow seems to appear in long shot as Bill parks his Ranger Rover in front of the front gate of the mansion. As he walks towards the blue gate, there is a slow zoom to the surveillance camera which is tracking him. Bill then notices a limo arriving at the other side of the gate. An elderly man steps out and hands him an envelope, then abruptly leaves. Bill opens the envelope and reads that it is a warning not to make any further inquiries about what he had seen at the mansion the previous night. This sequence is all accomplished with images and the discordant piano theme by Ligeti. There is no dialogue at all (none is necessary) and it further shows Kubrick's mastery of the film medium to tell a story with visuals.

It is now nighttime again, as we see a master shot of Bill's apartment building (the same shot that opens the film after Alice's undressing before the camera). Bill arrives home and is greeted by Alice (wearing a faded pink shirt) and his daughter, Helena, as they sit on the table going over math problems. There are various books on the table, all representing the colors of the rainbow, and the table cover is a faded red. He tells Alice that he needs to go back to the office for more appointments. Bill gets a beer from the refrigerator and hears Alice's voice from the previous night where she confesses to her sexual orgy dream. The scene ends with a close-up of Alice smiling at Bill.

Bill returns to the office and, outside his office, we see the Christmas tree with a rather faded pink glowing star. There is the final flash of Alice's sexual fantasy with the naval officer, and she seems to really be enjoying herself. He decides to call Marion Nathanson, the patient's daughter who made a pass at him the night before. Carl, her boyfriend, answers the phone however and Bill hangs up on him. 

We are now back in the nighttime streets of New York, specifically Greenwich Village. Bill arrives at Domino's apartment in a cab. He enters the apartment carrying a small cake-box. He knocks on the door but it is her roomate, Sally (Fay Masterson), dressed in a light blue shirt, who answers the door. She lets him in and is unaware of when Domino will be back. Signalling him to go to the kitchen, she slowly pushes herself against him and he stars to get cozy with her. A rainbow effect stars to form at the bottom of the screen where blue is the most prominent color. Bill grabs Sally's breast, but she tries to get out of the flirtatious spell by asking him to talk about Domino. They sit at the kitchen table and she tells him that Domino is HIV positive. Bill is stunned, unable to know how to cope with what has been a relatively unlucky night for him.

Bill is again walking the streets at night, and the discordant piano theme starts up again. He passes a green-lit store, two phone booths lit by yellow lights, realizing that he is being followed by a bald man. Bill tries to evade him by taking a taxi but is then told by the driver that he is off-duty. Bill walks by a magazine stand and grabs a newspaper. Bald man is seen again and stops in his tracks staring at Bill. Bald man continues walking and leaves Bill's sight. Bill walks further down the street to a coffee shop and orders a cappuccino. He reads the paper (which has the headline "Lucky to be Alive" on the front page) and comes across an article about an ex-beauty queen who had a drug overdose in a hotel room. Bill discovers it is the same mysterious woman who warned him of danger at the orgy. Once again, Bill's dark blue coat appears black in this scene, which has warm color tones. 

Puzzled by the newspaper article, Bill goes to the hospital to inquire about the mysterious woman, who is now named Amanda Curran (also known as Mandy at Ziegler's early party scene). He again shows his State Medical Board I.D. card for verification, claiming she was one of his patients. The receptionist tells him that the patient died earlier in the day. Bill goes to the morgue to I.D. her body (the inside of this room is grayish, making it a cold and sterile environment, only this time, some red, green and blue bottles are seen in the distance). In a canted high-angle shot of her corpse, we hear her voice-over from when she warned him and that her life would not be spared for helping him. Bill leans down to presumably kiss her but then he slowly stands back up. While leaving through the hallway, he walks past several abstract paintings, each representing a color of the rainbow. His mobile phone rings, presumably Ziegler.

Bill reports to Ziegler's mansion and enters the billiard room where Ziegler is playing on a red pool table with green lamps overhead. Once again, a lighter blue light is shining from the outside windows. Bill and Ziegler have some drinks, and then Ziegler slowly reveals information about Bill. Ziegler is aware of Bill's visit to the Somerton mansion since he was there and witnessed the whole scenario. Bill is shocked, first denying it, then telling him that Nick Nightingale's involvement was minimal. Ziegler tells Bill that he had him followed and knows Bill had been making inquiries earlier in the day about Nick. Throughout this pivotal scene, there is a dramatic distance between Ziegler and Bill (recalling similar scenes in the chateau climax of Paths of Glory), and some knowing sexual references in dialogue. Also Bill's dark blue suit changes, once again, to an almost black color when he walks across the room due, I imagine, to shifts in lighting. 

Ziegler: (referring to Nick) "By now, he is probably back with his family...probably banging Mrs. Nick."

That line is hardly significant in mentioning yet it is followed by Ziegler's downgrading comments regarding Mandy, aka Amanda Curran, and that she is nothing more than a hooker and a junkie who was going to die anyway. Bill is shocked at what he is hearing, especially when Ziegler says that the whole situation at the Somerton mansion (last-minute interventions, threats, etc) was fake and intended to scare Bill. Ziegler finally puts his arm on Bill's shoulder, trying to comfort him and tells him, "People die. It happens all the time. Life goes on. It always does, until it doesn't." 

We come to a close-up shot of the mask Bill lost, though we are not sure when or where he lost it (the mask itself may not literally be there but it may remind Bill of where he should be). Nevertheless, it is seen resting on a pillow and the camera slowly pans to the left as it reveals Alice sleeping next to it (obviously, this is where Bill should be, sleeping next to his wife). Once again, blue light fills the room from the outside. Cut to Bill arriving home, a bit distraught and aching for a beer. He walks to the kitchen, turns off the Christmas lights in the tree (which has a distinct pinkish glow), and sits at the kitchen table drinking beer.

Dissolve to Bill coming into his bedroom when he notices the mask on his bed pillow. He approaches and sits on the bed with teary eyes, and starts crying uncontrollably. This wakes up Alice who places his head on her breast. He tells her: "I'll tell you everything. I'll tell you everything." 

Cut to the early morning as we see Alice with no makeup sitting on the sofa with a dangling cigarette (this is clearly a moment of reality, not a dream any longer since Alice had always looked ravishing through most of the film). Bill is then seen sitting on the adjacent sofa full of remorse and shame, and we sense that Bill has told her of his sexual escapades and near-death occurrences (Lucky to be alive indeed). She reminds Bill, who is trying to comport herself, that they need to go Christmas shopping with their daughter, Helena.

We see Alice wearing glasses and wearing a light blue sweater, Bill and Helena are in tow at a toy store. Helena is hopeful she will receive a huge teddy bear from Santa. Bill finally gets the courage to speak to Alice, asking what they should do. Alice tells him they should be grateful that they survived all their adventures unscathed (of course, Alice using the word "we" signifies she has had some adventures herself outside of the Hungarian from Ziegler's party). Alice's next line is: "Whether they were real or only a dream." 

Alice then reassures him that they are awake now and hopefully for a long time to come. Bill tells her: "Forever." Alice smiles and then shakes her head, saying that the word frightens her though she does love him. What follows is the controversial last line by Alice in close-up that closes the film:

Alice: "But I do love you...and you know there is something very important we need to do as soon as possible."

Bill: "What's that?"

Alice: (pausing while staring at him) "Fuck."

The sound of the noise from the store fades out and there is an abrupt cut to black with the title reading: "Produced and Directed by Stanley Kubrick."

KEEPING THOSE EYES WIDE OPEN

"Eyes Wide Shut" had its share of detractors and admirers when released back in July 1999. I am sure the film was not fully completed, despite the fact that Stanley showed a rough cut in New York to Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman that was considered finished. There was talk that Stanley intended to release the film in August of 1999 to allow more time for fine-tuning. This goes without saying considering how Stanley's past films have always had minor trims and/or changes, particularly Dr. Strangelove (where he deleted a pie-fight scene), "The Shining" (he deleted an alternate ending with Shelley Duvall after the film's initial premiere), "A Clockwork Orange" (where he deleted a graphic shot of Alex killing the Cat Lady), and so on. There has been speculation as to what Kubrick may have changed or deleted in "Eyes Wide Shut" had he lived to do the fine-tuning. Perhaps the orgy scene could have been restored if Stanley fought it. Some have suggested that the toy store ending is all wrong and would have been deleted, but I think it is far too essential. It is left open to interpretation but I think the scene shows that humans are not civilized yet (or as evolved) to otherwise think that sex cures problems in a marriage (or as Alice refers to women's sexual history as "millions of years of evolution," a very Kubrickian theme) Alice's inability to say their marriage is forever yet very able to say that sex is something they have to look forward to shows that she is no different than Bill - they both want sex but have trouble communicating their feelings to each other in what seems to be a fragile marriage. Some may see it as an optimistic ending - I see it as Kubrick's own joke about marriages and sex. It has the right tone to it because as the film ends abruptly, we are then back to our own reality - the spell or trance that Kubrick kept us in has been broken. It works in the same way as Arthur Schnitzler's novella - a dreamlike trance with moments of reality.

I have been describing the colors and compositions in the film with each sequence since they correspond to Kubrick's intentions in telling this story of sexual adventures and, in some cases, subtle foreshadowing of future events as they unfold.

The color red equals the decadence of sexual appetites and the possibility of some harmless sexual fun - it is the color of Alice and Bill's bedsheets and their curtains. Red is quite predictably prominent at the orgy in the Somerton mansion. Domino, the prostitute, has a red doorway entrance to her apartment. Ziegler has a red pool table (when they are usually green).

Blue is the color of purity and the color of home and hearth - whenever Alice is on screen at her home, blue is prominent. Bill sees blue at the Somerton gate, his office has blue carpeted areas and blue doors, his flirtatious behavior with Domino's roomate has hints of blue, especially her light blue shirt and blue eyeshadow. The apartment windows in every character's house has blue light filtering through or sometimes flooding through. I think that blue is an indicator of where Bill should be - at home with his wife. It is at the end of the rainbow - the end of his journey or odyssey. As for the pinkish glows from certain Christmas trees or the light pinkish shirt color worn by the waitress at Gillespie's corresponding with Alice's similarly colored shirt when helping with her daughter's homework, one can assume that pink is another indicator of where Bill should be at night - after all, pink is also the color of the star on top of the Christmas trees. Maybe pink is the Northern Star, a guide to the ethereal blue color of his home with his family. 

The film also has distinctive rainbow effects, considering it is set during Christmas time and so there are Christmas trees in practically every scene. Bill's apartment has colors of the rainbow represented in different objects and in paintings (the latter done by Kubrick's wife Christiane, who also created the paintings in "A Clockwork Orange"). Bill goes to the Rainbow shop, and is told by two models at Ziegler's party that he should go with them "where the rainbow ends." Perhaps at the end of the rainbow is red (the color of sexual decadence) but Bill chooses a different path - blue is clearly at the end of the rainbow for him. Consider two scenes where a deliberate rainbow forms on screen: when Bill is attacked by a homophobic gang, a rainbow forms at the bottom of the screen where blue is most prominent (plus he falls back on a dark blue car parked on the street). When he flirts with Domino's friend, a rainbow forms at the bottom of the screen where blue is again prominent. Blue is a reminder, and a sort of sexual blocking signal for Bill, who tries to act on his sexual impulses and always gets interrupted. 

The whole film has a dreamlike effect - most significant are the pauses and repetitions in the dialogue. The characters say their dialogue by dragging out each syllable, and in some cases, repeating what they had just said. The film is also shot in grainy colors - apparently most shots were filmed with no real studio lights, sometimes only capturing light from whatever available source or from the lights on Christmas trees. This is not that different from Stanley's approach in the beautiful Barry Lyndon, which was shot with special lenses from NASA so that a scene at night could be lit from just the candles that were on display. 

Another factor is how much of the film is sexual, implicitly or explicitly. Kubrick has never shown sex or copulation of any kind on film. The only example I can only think of is the speeded-up romp in the hay Alex has with two young girls in "A Clockwork Orange" to the tune of a speeded-up version of the "William Tell" overture. Here is a filmmaker who has always hinted at sex, especially in his adaptation of Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, which has sexual entendres and connotations galore, but has never truly shown it. Every scene in "Eyes Wide Shut" revolves around sex in some form or another, and every encounter Bill has with other characters is sexual or suggestive of some sexual nature, from the romantic advances of Marion to the flirtations of Domino's roommate, Sally, to the unexpectedly funny scene of the hotel desk clerk eyeing Bill. Of course, the film was advertised as a sexual thriller where we would get a chance to see Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman engaging in full-frontal nudity while having sex (there were rumors prior to the film's release that Cruise and Kidman played psychotherapists who have sex with their patients.) But anyone who has studied Kubrick's career knew that anything was further from the truth - the advertising promised a film of "bad, bad things" and Kubrick teased us yet again. The audience wanted outright fornication and only got as far as 158 minutes of foreplay with no climax.

Finally, "Eyes Wide Shut" is the kind of film that is left open to interpretation. There is no clear resolution in the story and certain characters are kept in an obscure light. One can ask what finally happened to Mandy, the hooker? Was she intentionally killed or did she O.D.? What was so secretive about the orgy in the mansion that would cause the leader, Red Cloak, to threaten Bill's life and family? Was it an all an act to scare him? Is Ziegler telling the truth about what went on the mansion, or can we ever really trust anyone with a red pool table? Did Alice ever get it on with the naval officer or did she only fantasize about it? And what about the mask, how did it appear on Bill's pillow? Who put it there? Did Alice find it in his study or did someone else place it there, or is it not actually there since it is seen only from Bill's point-of-view? You can go insane trying to find the answers to such questions when Kubrick purposely leaves them open-ended - this allows the audience to come to its own conclusions, something which Hollywood rarely does anymore.

"Eyes Wide Shut" is a great film that becomes richer and more enveloping with each viewing. It requires patience, demands attention, and allows one to think about its characters and the subtle nuances in their dialogue exchanges in the context of its theme about the possibility of marital infidelity in a fragile marriage. Some have seen it once and hated it only to gradually admire it on second viewing. Do yourself a favor: in the mindless season after season of predominantly mediocre, bland films, check out Kubrick's last film "Eyes Wide Shut." If you hated it or disliked it the first time, you may find yourself at least admiring, on second viewing, the world Kubrick has created on screen and how he fashions this world before our eyes, as he has with all of his films. Keep those eyes wide open.

Selected Bibliography:

American Cinematographer: Oct 99, Stanley Kubrick Retrospective, author: Ron Magid.

Kubrick: Inside the Film Artist's Maze, Indiana University Express, author: Thomas Allen Nelson.

If...you...men...only...knew, part 1

EYES WIDE SHUT (1999)

A complete shot-by-shot analysis (or mere description to some) of Stanley Kubrick's last film

By Jerry Saravia

 

  There were outstanding films in 1999 such as Magnolia and American Beauty, but there was nothing quite like Stanley Kubrick's final masterpiece, the superbly fascinating Eyes Wide Shut. This film, like most of the late director's work, merits close introspection and patience and needs to be seen more than once since it unearths many meanings, coincidences and extreme subtleties in every single frame thereby evoking its dreamlike power. Over time, a decade plus, it is hard to say how others perceive Kubrick's last film, since it was not meant to be his last hurrah. The film also would've been further editorialized by Kubrick, as he famously re-edited many of his films even after a premiere (2001: A Space Odyssey, The Shining, for starters). This analysis is an attempt at understanding what is going in each and every frame of Kubrick's most beautiful film since Barry Lyndon. 
First, we have the title credits indicating that this is a Stanley Kubrick film starring two glamorous Hollywood actors, Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. The music playing in the soundtrack is from Dmitri Shostakovich's "Waltz from Jazz Suite II." Then there is a cut to a lovingly composed, highly erotic shot of Alice (Nicole Kidman) who walks into a room where there is a large-scale mirror and two tennis rackets. Her backside is shown to us as she slowly removes her black dress baring all. We see that she is centered between two pillars, the curtains that barely close a window are red, and the whole shot itself is in warm yellowish tones. Right away, there is a cut to the title of the film, "EYES WIDE SHUT." This shot is a tease, as is the whole film - a game of foreplay where we can see but not touch, much like the highly touted trailer.

Next we have Dr. Bill Harford (Tom Cruise) who is dressed in a tuxedo ready to leave while looking for his wallet (and meanwhile picks up a handkerchief in a chest drawer, a mobile phone, and a set of keys on a table). He asks his wife, Alice, the whereabouts of his wallet. She tells him offscreen that it is located on the bedside table. He finds it and tells his wife, who is sitting on the loo, that they need to get to the party soon since they are running late. She asks him how she looks as she stands up from the loo. He says, "Perfect." She continues to ask if her hair is okay. He says, "It looks great." Then she says another important line that is the summation of one of the film's strong themes about marriage: "You are not even looking." The line is simple and direct but so damn honest, as indicated in the adjoining moment where, ultimately, his response to Alice is "It's beautiful. You always look beautiful." As they are about to leave, Alice asks Bill if he has given the babysitter, Roz, the phone and pager numbers. He says that they are on the refrigerator door. Bill shuts off the music on the stereo, which is incidentally the Shostakovich music we had been listening to from the beginning. They leave the bedroom and shut the lights. Next shot is a slightly canted Steadicam tracking shot (and there are many) of the couple walking down the hallway as Bill helps Alice put her coat on. Bill asks her the name of the babysitter. She says "Roz", a name he had forgotten already. They approach the living room where Helena, their seven-year-old daughter, is sitting next to Roz, and we get our first glimpse of a Christmas tree next to the sofa. Roz compliments Alice on her looks, while Helena asks her mother if she can stay up to watch The Nutcracker. Alice agrees to it, and they wave their kisses and goodbyes to Helena. The scene dissolves to an exterior night shot of Victor Ziegler's mansion in New York City.

Bill and Alice are inside the mansion, walking through a corridor filled with display cases and works of art. They walk past a decorative, star-shaped light fixture as they are greeted by Mr. Ziegler himself (played by Sydney Pollack), a millionaire, and his wife Ilona (Leslie Lowe) inside a large marbled hall - a Christmas tree laden with decorations is seen next to a staircase illuminated by a curtain of light. There are the customary greetings and then a line is said by Ziegler later reflected in Alice's monologue.

Ziegler: "Alice, look at you! God, you're absolutely stunning."
Alice: "And I don't say that to all the women, do I?" (motioning to Ilona)
Ilona: "Oh, yes, he does."

Ziegler then mentions to Bill that the osteopath Bill recommended has fixed his arm and that his tennis serve is better than ever. Meanwhile, Alice and Ilona briefly complement each other on their magnificent dresses. Bill and Alice leave as Ziegler and his wife greet the other incoming guests. The scene dissolves to a slow-zoom out long shot of the interior ballroom where two chandeliers of light are shaped as if they were breasts while below is an orchestra playing. Bill and Alice dance and Alice asks him if she knows any of Ziegler's guests. Bill's reply that exemplifies Kubrick's dreamlike approach of dragging out every syllable is: "Not...a...soul." Suddenly Bill recognizes the piano player, who was studying to be a doctor before dropping out. He asks Alice if she will accompany him to say hello. She says she needs to go to the bathroom. Alice walks away from the ballroom and gets a glass of champagne from a waiter and drinks it in one gulp - giving the impression that she does not take such parties seriously.

Cut to Bill greeting Nick Nightingale (Todd Field) whom we see standing next to his piano. They keep tapping and patting each other on the shoulder and on the stomach. Nick jokes that he was never cut out to be a doctor because he is used to walking away. They laugh and drink until Nick is interrupted (the first of many interruptions in the film) by Ziegler's secretary that Nick is wanted. They pat each other again and Nick reminds Bill that he will be playing at the Sonata Cafe.

Dissolve to Alice at the bar having another glass of champagne. She sets it on the table and a suave, tall, elegant man picks up her glass. Alice notices this yet the man drinks from her glass anyway. He then introduces himself as Sandor Szavost (Sky Dumont), a Hungarian playboy, perhaps. Alice introduces herself, and she accepts his invitation to dance. They leave the ante-room and there is a dissolve to the ballroom where they are seen dancing. They make small talk about art galleries until Alice gazes and smiles upon seeing Bill with two gorgeous women in the ante-room. Sandor asks her the identity of the man she is staring at, and she responds, "My husband." Sandor asks her why she should be married if she can have any man in the ballroom.

Cut to Bill conversing and giggling with two models, Nuala and Gayle (Stuart Thorndike and Louise Taylor) who have their arms draped around each other. Nuala flirts with Bill, spelling out every syllable of her name. Gayle reminds Bill that they had met at a photo session at Rockefeller Plaza and that he gave her a handkerchief for something she had caught in her eye (the handkerchief that Bill puts in his shoulder pocket at the beginning of the film).

There is then a cut back to the ballroom with Sandor and Alice as they continue to dance (the steadicam shots that follow them around are gracefully and almost inhumanly stable). Sandor, who must hold a doctorate degree on the history and art of love (Ovid's Book of Love is used as a reference), tells Alice that women used to get married to lose their virginity and thus, they could have any man they wanted.

Cut to Bill walking with Gayle and Nuala headed for the marble hall. At one point, while Gayle mentions how knowledgable doctors are, Bill looks at Nuala who then makes eye contact with him. At that precise moment, Bill turns away. As they arrive in the marble hall, Bill asks where they are going, and Gayle says they are headed where the rainbow ends.

Bill: (smiling) "Where the rainbow ends?"
Nuala: "Don't you want to go where the rainbow ends?"

Then comes another interruption, this time Ziegler's personal assistant. He tells Bill that he is needed by Ziegler. Bill leaves the two women indicating that their flirtatious byplay will be continued. Bill and the assistant walk up the staircase illuminated by the curtain of light.

Cut to a barechested Ziegler putting on his suspenders in long shot standing next to a nude body traipsed on a dark red sofa. In this very same shot, you'll notice a glass partition on a bathtub which seemingly obscures the vagina of a nude woman in the background painting. There is a knock on the door and it is Dr. Bill. Ziegler tells Bill that the girl on the sofa, Mandy (Julienne Davis), has been shooting up speedball ("It is heroin and coke," says the nervous Ziegler. Interestingly, Ziegler doesn't seem to remember her name and repeats it twice, as if he is waking up from a shock of reality.) Another interesting point is the framing of Ziegler in close-up - he is standing in front of the very same nude painting and again obscures the vagina right in the center - shades here of similar framing shots in A Clockwork Orange such as Alex's boa constrictor just barely covering a nude woman's vagina in a painting. Finally, Bill wakes up Mandy.

In the meantime, Alice continues dancing with the Hungarian who suggests they go to the upstairs sculpture gallery to look at some Renaissance bronzes. Alice responds in another dreamlike state by pausing between each word:

Alice: "Maybe...not...just...now."

We return to Ziegler in the bathroom, putting on his shirt as he looks at Mandy who is now covered with a blue towel. Ziegler reaffirms the shock of reality by indicating to Mandy that she gave him one hell of a scare. Ziegler takes Bill aside and asks him to keep the situation just between them, entrusting Bill as if he was one of his own personal assistants.

Alice and the Hungarian continue dancing. Alice's eyes are closed and they suddenly open as the background music ends. She tells the Hungarian she needs to go. He asks why. She says, "Because...I am married.", as she shows her wedding ring to him. Last shot of Alice is framed against the warm-toned star in the background as she kisses her index finger and plants it on his lips.

There is an abrupt cut to a naked Alice wearing glasses and removing her earrings in front of her bedroom mirror. She is gently swaying supposedly to the beat of the song playing in the soundtrack, Chris Issak's "Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing." Bill appears next to her, naked as well (they are both shot from the waist up), as he kisses her. She smiles, removes her glasses, and kisses him as she places her arms around him. She stares at herself in the mirror, and at him, and there is a fade to black. We are again denied the opportunity of watching a lovemaking session as Kubrick teases us yet again.

It is the morning after, as Bill arrives at his office from an elevator. He is greeted by his secretary (who does speak in a New York accent, more on accents later). As he goes to his office, we notice that there is a blue seating area, red tinsel along the desk area, a blue carpet leading to his office, and a Christmas tree with the requisite colored lights, plus the yellow star. There is something cold and sterile about the environment, as later evidenced in the morgue scene. This whole sequence plays like a montage as Kubrick crosscuts between Alice and her daughter and Bill's examination room scenes.

First shot following Dr. Bill's arrival is of Alice and her daughter, Helena, at breakfast time in the kitchen, as the daughter eats her cereal and watches a Bugs Bunny cartoon, while Alice reads the paper - there is also a green book on the table, which again showcases the importance of representing all the colors of the rainbow in almost every shot. You'll notice that the scene has that "shock of reality" again since Alice is not made up to look like the beauty she was the night before - a noticeable aspect during the confession scene later in the film (this scene echoes Shelley Duvall's breakfast with Danny Lloyd in the early morning light in The Shining). Light blue is the dominant color in these scenes with Alice. There is also another "tease" shot of Alice naked, shown from her backside as she puts on her black bra. Another shot follows of Helena wearing a red dress as Alice, in her blue bathrobe, combs Helena's hair with a blue hairbrush.

Dr. Bill first examines a woman who is seated on a hospital bed naked - he is checking her heart. Next he examines a young boy's neck glands as his mother stands in the background silently observing (the mother is played by Katharina Kubrick, Kubrick's daughter). Another examination scene is of Bill examining a man lying on a bed as he lifts the man's leg. All these scenes are virtually monochromatic - cold and sterile once again. White fills every shot, from the white walls to the white bed and gowns, with dark blue only slightly represented.

The crosscutting ends as Bill and Alice listen attentively to Helena, who reads from a children's book. There is a cut to Alice in the living room as she asks Bill, who is watching football on television, if they should continue wrapping the presents. Bill says it can be finished another time. Alice then goes to the bathroom and removes a Band-Aid tin from the cabinet which has a bag of marijuana in it.

This leads to one of the most important scenes in the film - the first confession scene. Alice is seen smoking a joint on their bed. The bed sheets and bed posts are a faded red color. Finally, as she chuckles to herself, Alice asks Bill if he had sex with the two models at the party. Bill is nonplussed to hear her asking such a question, dissuading himself by downplaying his flirtatious behavior with the models. He grabs Alice's breasts and counterattacks by asking if she had sex with the Hungarian - she admits she did not yet he understands why this man would want her wife. The "shock of reality" sets in yet again, interrupting a possible lovemaking session as Alice tries to understand Bill's statement.

Alice: "So...because I'm a beautiful woman the only reason any man wants to talk to me is because he wants to fuck me! Is that what you're saying?"

Bill: "Well, I don't think it's quite that black and white, but I think we both know what men are like."

Alice (seen leaning against the door frame as dark blue light fills the back room): "So, on that basis, I should conclude that you wanted to f*** those two models?"

Bill: "There are exceptions."

Alice: "And what makes you an exception?"

Bill: "What makes me an exception is that...I happen to be in love with you and because we're married and because I would never lie to you or hurt you."

Alice starts to walk to the other side of the room past the red curtains. She then says: "Do you realize that what you're saying is that the only reason you wouldn't fuck those two models is out of consideration for me, not because you really wouldn't want to."

What follows is Alice's intention to understand her husband's flirtations, thereby testing his faithfulness. She even laughs at him, giggling uncontrollably - an unusual occurrence in any Tom Cruise film for a female lead to be laughing and mocking the lead movie star. Bill, wearing black underwear, is sitting hunched over and shot in close-up with some headroom - a rather unflattering, vulnerable portrait of Bill. As he listens to Alice's story of their past summer in Cape Cod, she admits that she fantasized of having an affair with a naval officer she had seen in a restaurant. Her confession also further underlies the fragility of their marriage - Alice says she would have left Bill, their future together, all for one night of ecstasy. Bill sits in silence, starting to swell up when the phone rings (one of many repeated interruptions in the film, and here it is accompanied by Jocelyn Pook's musical score). It is a phone call from a patient's daughter.

We see Bill in a cab out to the patient's house. Part of the dreamlike power of these scenes is that rear-screen projection is used, as it used to be with films from the past to save money from shooting on location. In the case with Kubrick, who had never returned to New York since leaving the United States back in 1960, it was a matter of recreating New York in England. During this scene, Kubrick makes it clear that it is Bill's story by taking a subjective stance - we are, in effect, inside Bill's mind. The first of three flashbacks of Alice's supposed infidelity with the naval officer takes place - we see in black-and-white, the naval officer lying on top of Alice in bed as he removes her panties. Cut back to Bill, who is obviously affected by Alice's confession. Interestingly, in the novella by Arthur Schnitzler from which this film's screenplay is based on, Bill (Fridolin) also tells Alice (Albertina) of a fantasized love affair he had.

Bill enters the apartment of the patient, Nathanson, and we see blue windows in the background. He is let in by the maid, and finally arrives at the patient's bedroom where Marion Nathanson (Marie Richardson) is seen. The corpse of Lou Nathanson, Marion's father, lays on her bed, which has blue bedsheets. A small Christmas tree is seen at the entrance of the bedroom with a faded pinkish glow. Bill and Marion sit down and talk, he tries to comfort her. She speaks of moving away with her fiancee, Carl, but she is barely able to comport herself. Suddenly, Marion kisses Bill on the lips, and he pulls away. She admits she is in love with him, and he tells her that they barely know each other. Another interruption comes in the form of a doorbell. It is her fiancee, Carl (Thomas Gibson). Marion hesitates kissing him, and when Carl approaches Bill and thanks him for coming and for his support, Bill wipes his mouth while talking to Carl. There is a close-up shot of Marion, as she stands waiting for Bill to acknowledge her before he leaves. She is about to say something to him when she is interrupted by Bill, who says "good night", as he abruptly walks out.

Dissolve to the night life of Greenwich Village, as Bill is seen walking the crowded streets (one of the few shots in the film where New York is shown to be crowded as it normally is). He sees a couple necking at one point, and immediately there is a flash to Alice's B&W sex fantasy - this time the naval officer is reaching his hand down to her vagina. Cut back to Bill, walking faster and far more furious, as he punches his hand in frustration (if you look quickly, you'll notice a red glow from the bottom of the screen as he punches his hand, more noticeable in the trailer). Bill walks past several Christmas shops as he sees a gang of youths walking on the street talking about some "Mexican lap-dance." As they approach him, they taunt him with sayings like "Looks like the pink team,"and one of them elbows Bill who falls next to a dark blue car. They continue taunting him, telling him to go back to San Francisco where all homosexuals belong. Bill looks back angrily, and slowly you start to notice a slight rainbow effect form just below his chest. This scene is misunderstood by many but it is another example of how each one of Bill's encounters borders on the sexual or, in this case, sexually demeaning.

Bill continues walking, and is stopped by a woman in a fur coat who asks for the time. He tells her it is past midnight, and continues walking. She follows, asking if he would like a "little fun." They pass a neon blue video store and a red neon liquor store, which can be seen across the street, as well as a hotel neon light sign in yellow. Bill is surprised at her request and she insists it will be alright and that they will not be bothered. She shows him the entrance to her apartment, which has a prominently red doorway.

They enter her apartment, which of course has yet another Christmas tree (the lights are off and only a strong blue light comes through from her windows). A bathtub can be seen in the kitchen as she turns on the lights and apologizes for the mess. What follows is an extraordinary long take where she removes her fur coat revealing a purple dress, and they discuss what will be done for fun and for how much. Christmas lights are blocked in the background by a pillar. A pair of bras and red packaged Christmas gifts are seen above the bathtub (only in Europe do they have bathtubs in the kitchen, certainly not in any New York apartment I know of). She reassures him that she does not keep track of the time.

Cut to Alice sitting in her kitchen, surrounded by the ethereal blue light from outside, watching Blume in Love on the television. She is seen drinking a glass of milk and smoking a cigarette - isolated in her own home while her husband is out enjoying the night life. There is a dissolve then to a close-up shot of Bill with the woman in the apartment (at this time, she remains unnamed but is later referred to as Domino, played by Vinessa Shaw). She kisses him sweetly and softly, as faded red and blue lights can be seen in the background. She asks him, "So, shall we?" Before he can answer, there is yet another interruption, this time Bill's mobile phone is ringing. He gets up from her bed and turns the jazz music down on her radio. It turns out to be his wife Alice calling, who inquires when he will be back. He is not sure as he lies about still being at Nathanson's apartment and waiting for relatives to arrive. Alice tells him she is going to bed. He hangs up, as Domino asks him if that was Mrs. Dr. Bill. Worth noting in the medium shot of Domino, lying on her bed, is that her purple dress appears to be crimson red, no doubt caused by the reflection of all the Christmas lights. Bill leaves, paying for her services though all she did was kiss him. This scene is as erotic as they come, again in the hands of Kubrick who continues to tease us. Whoever thought that there could be a romantic, electrifying scene with a prostitute that did not show sexual happenings or gratuitous nudity. Kubrick's teasing game continues.

Cut to Bill now walking the streets again. He sees a Sonata cafe sign with white letters and a red background, and the Sonata Jazz sign above in blue neon lights. Bill smiles and enters the cafe. He passes an entrance full of yellow lights and we hear Nick Nightingale, whom we met at Ziegler's party, playing with his band. Bill sits at a table just as Nick finishes his piece. Another shot of sexual suggestiveness is apparent when there is a low-angle shot of Nick sitting at the piano holding a microphone with a cable extending from it - it is as if he is receiving oral pleasure or giving it. Nick is called over by Bill at his table, and they talk about their current life situations. As they talk, Nick tells Bill he has a gig later that night, unaware of where or when he will play. Bill is nonplussed by this strange gig, and Nick tells him it is a place where he plays the piano blindfolded and has learned that incredible women attend the gig. There is another interruption, as Nick's cell phone rings. We do not hear the conversation but Nick does write the word "Fidelio" on a napkin. Bill asks Nick what the word is, and Nick tells him it is the cryptic password to the gig. Bill asks to go to this gig, and Nick is reluctant to give him any more information. Bill insists, and learns that all he needs is a cloak and a mask to get in, as well as the password.

Cut to Bill arriving at a costume shop called "Rainbow." A man named Milich (Rade Sherbedgia) answers in the intercom, though Bill was expecting to see the previous owner. He explains to Milich that he is a doctor and shows his State Medical board card (a running gag through most of the film), as a way of getting a costume at such late-night hours. Milich lets him in knowing that Bill will pay extra.

Milich and Bill enter the costume shop through a red gate - the inside of the store is dark and that ethereal blue light again comes in through the outside windows. They enter an inner room where mannequins are on display - red curtains are in the background and yellow lights. Bill requests a black cloak, a mask and a tuxedo. While Milich is looking through the costumes, he hears a noise. Bill hears it as well, as Milich walks into a room with a glass wall and finds a bra and leftover Chinese food. He hears someone giggling and finds two practically nude Japanese men and a young girl in bra and panties, who is in fact Milich's daughter (played by a young Leelee Sobieski). While Milich berates the men, Milich's daughter stands behind Bill and whispers into his ear, "You should have a cloak lined with ermine." She walks backwards and gives him a suggestive look.

Cut to Bill driven in another taxi, this time to Long Island. Close-up of Bill in cab closing his eyes, as Jocelyn Pook's music starts again and he has another flash of his wife Alice engaging in more sex with the naval officer, all in black-and-white. There are a few dissolves as Bill arrives at a mansion called Somerton (the nighttime scenes in the cab and the sign of Somerton outside the mansion recall Alex's rampage at a place called simply "Home" in "A Clockwork Orange.") Two men are seen outside the mansion, which has a blue fence at the entrance. Bill pays the cab driver to wait for him. Bill walks to the two gate men and gives the password. He is driven to the front of the mansion in a red jeep.

Once inside the mansion, Bill gives the password to a masked butler, and promptly puts on his own mask and cloak as he walks on a red carpet leading to the ante-room, surrounded by red curtains. He walks past another masked man and sees a ceremony given by some man in a red cloak and mask (known in the credits as "Red Cloak" and played by Leon Vitali, Kubrick's long-time personal assistant). The Red Cloak is leading the ceremony of naked masked women who form a circle around him. He is holding an incense burner on one hand and a staff on the other. The blindfolded Nick can be seen playing the piano. Bill is then seen by two masked figures on the balcony, and one of them with a tricorn mask bows to Bill as if he recognized him. Bill gives a returning bow, unaware of who this masked figure is (my guess is that it is Ziegler, as we later find out that he attended this very same ceremony). The masked naked women in the circle leave and each of them arbitrarily picks one man from the spectators to accompany them, all of whom are dressed in black cloaks and wearing Venetian Carnival masks of different designs. Each woman kisses the masked men while wearing their masks. One mysterious woman (Abigail Good) comes up to Bill, kisses him and then they leave hand in hand.

The woman asks Bill what he is doing and why he is there. Bill feels she has mistaken him for someone else but there is yet another interruption - this time it is a man wearing an oversized mask who takes her away. Bill is left alone, and begins looking around. What follows is the controversial sequence that was censored by the MPAA for apparently gross nudity and visible genitalia. Instead of seeing all these sex acts that transpire on Bill's journey through the mansion, we see digitally created nude figures (!) blocking all the sex acts that should be seen from Bill's point-of-view - it is all subjective in endless tracking shots but the point is lost when we cannot see what Bill has been waiting to see, as has the audience at this point - it is another tease but perhaps not in the way Kubrick intended since he was forced to censor these acts. In 1999, for the MPAA to think that the audience is not ready to see an innocent little orgy, which anyone can see in HBO films to X-rated fare in any video store, is incomprehensible. More than likely, it is due to the nightmarish intensity of it, especially after having viewed the original footage intact. An essential moment since it is shaping Bill's own sexual awakening, as well as showing sex as purely animalistic and devoid of emotion.
Nevertheless, Bill admires one sexual act of a masked man on his hands and knees while on his back is a naked woman having sex with another man. An objective shot follows of the tricorn masked man and another masked nude woman entering this room, unbeknownst to Bill. He signals her to get Bill's attention. Bill notices her standing next to him. She asks if he is enjoying himself and would accompany her for a more private room. Before this goes anywhere, there is another interruption by the mysterious masked woman he was walking with earlier. She leads to him a small hall and tells him that he has to leave, warning him of imminent danger. The mysterious woman flees while a tall masked butler tells Bill that the taxi driver wants to talk to him. Bill and the butler leave.

We then see the blindfolded Nick led across a dance hall by a masked man - the dance hall is full of naked men and women dancing to an instrumental version of "Strangers in the Night." All these masked principals, the ballrooms, and the music suggest the atmosphere of the ballroom scenes from "The Shining."

Bill is led back to the ante-room where Red Cloak is seen seated in the middle of the room between two blue-costumed guards. All the other spectators that were seen earlier are there, and all are staring at Bill while the ominous piano theme in the soundtrack begins to play (it is Musica Ricercata II by composer Gyorgy Ligeti - a favorite of Kubrick's who used some of his musical compositions in "The Shining"). As Bill walks toward the middle of the room, his black cloak suddenly changes into a dark blue color, particularly when he passes an overhead flood light. The Red Cloak asks Bill for his password and the password to the house. Bill does not know the latter and lies, admitting he had forgotten it when there never was such a password. Bill is taunted by the Red Cloak who asks Bill to remove his clothes. Suddenly, there is another interruption - this time it is the mysterious woman who is seen above in the balcony and says she will "redeem him." She is then escorted by a bird masked man and taken away, though we are not sure what will happen to her. Bill asks about her plight, but the Red Cloak only warns him of dire consequences, especially with his family, if he is ever to speak of what he had seen at the mansion.As played Leon Vitali, Red Cloak (who is not referred to as such) has a sarcastic tone and is quite polite in his requests ("May I have the password, please!"). He never shouts or utters obscenities, as perhaps other less imaginative filmmakers might have if they had written the dialogue. The politeness and sarcasm make his requests that much more threatening or as Vitali explained in an interview, "It's almost like a sadistic English schoolmaster talking to his unfortunate pupil." 

>>>>CONTINUED at http://jerrysaravia.blogspot.com/2012/08/ifyoumenonlyknew-part-2.html

My f---in heart is in my throat

MORTAL THOUGHTS (1991)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Mortal Thoughts" is hardly a typical Alan Rudolph production - it is more like a slow jazz version of a Mike Figgis picture. The movie, a glum morality play set in 1990's Bayonne, N.J., is not written by director Rudolph (William Reilly and Claude Kerven penned it) thus it does not contain his ability to sneak up on characters and make them vivid, as in his vastly underrated "Trouble in Mind."

At a haircut place called "Clip and Dye" (not subtle!), two hairdressers, Joy (Glenne Headly) and Cynthia (Demi Moore), go out one night to a carnival with a loudmouth, cruel and unkind man, Joy's husband, Jimmy (an atypical and deliciously evil turn by goateed Bruce Willis). Jimmy doesn't work, uses duct tape to hold his child's diapers together, gets drunk and snorts coke, and ingests way too much sugar in his coffee. At the carnival, Jimmy is killed by Joy in their van. The motive is unclear but now these New Jersey women are faced with a dilemma: call the cops or dump the body in a ditch. Which choice do you think they will make?

"Mortal Thoughts" uses a flashback structure framed against its never-ending interrogation scenes between Cynthia and two detectives (played by Harvey Keitel and Billie Neal). The only issue I have with these scenes is that they are not as effective as the story being told from Cynthia's point-of-view. Keitel is a magnetic actor and there are some solid uses of humor (powdered donut covering his lips, the Honeymooners reference) but the dialogue is often repetitive, at least until the closing scenes where a twist occurs that negates some of what preceded the film, to a certain extent. Billie Neal's detective is mostly the silent observer, though I am not sure what purpose that serves.

On the plus side, Demi Moore gives the most powerful performance of her career. Her Cynthia is a vulnerable wife and mother who tries her damnedest to be the dutiful best friend to the haywire personality of Joyce. Moore does seem like a force-of-nature, especially in her scenes with Keitel when the dialogue isn't stilted or too dry. Glenne Headly also dominates as the suffering wife of a loser like the volatile Jimmy. And Bruce Willis is about as far gone from any role he has ever played - his trademark smirks, his singing songs like "Kung-Fu Fighting" and a terrific line, possibly improvised, where he says "My fucking heart is in my throat" gives the character a lovable loser quality that Paul Newman could have played in his prime. We discover that Jimmy, Cynthia and Joyce are, however, not quite what they seem.

"Mortal Thoughts" is my kind of suspense thriller but it has elements that feel forced, as in the various slow-motion shots and overuse of melodic, slow jazz by Mark Isham amidst some dutch camera angles. Alan Rudolph lends the film atmosphere but its interrogation scenes do not quite connect as they should have, again with certain exceptions. But Demi Moore, Glenne Headly, Harvey Keitel, John Pankow (an understated role as Cynthia's husband) and Bruce Willis are pure dynamite on screen and worth catching. They just deserved a more nuanced screenplay.

It is the Power of Love

BACK TO THE FUTURE PART III (1990) 
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

After the dark overtones of "Back to the Future Part II," "Part III" (filmed back-to-back with the first sequel) returns to the lightness and simplicity of the original. It settles in the Old West as its setting and dwells on relationships rather than complicated paradoxes (though I admit to liking the complications of Part II). No, it is not superior to the original but it is vastly entertaining and funnier than the second film.

"Part III" begins precisely where the last film left off. If you recall, Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) went back to 1955, encountered his double, and tried to convince Doc Brown (the 1955 counterpart) that he needs to get back to the future. Doc faints and Marty tries to revive him. After some nifty explanations, Marty decides to go back to the Old West but he needs his time-traveling DeLorean, which of course proves unavailable. Apparently, Marty and Doc discover that Doc's 1885 counterpart died at the hands of a gunslinger over a matter of money owed. We see the tombstone and they eventually find the Delorean left in some mine, nicely preserved. Thanks to Doc's help, Marty manages to go back to 1885, meet his Irish grandparents (played by Fox and Lea Thompson), gets shot at at a bar where he does the "moonwalk," gets nearly hanged, and meets up finally with Doc Brown who saves Marty from evil cowpokes. Lo and behold, Marty is ready to take Doc back (or forward rather) to 1985 when he sees that the DeLorean has a ruptured fuel line and thus lacks the ability to go 88 miles per hour - the necessary mileage to travel through time. Doc comes up with a brilliant plan - have the DeLorean pushed by a train going at the requisite speed. There are some funny complications such as the bridge where the train will be passing through had not been completed, the trains of that era did not necessarily go so fast, there are the gunslingers, particularly one who wants Doc's hide, and a more novel complication: Clara (Mary Steenburgen), a schoolteacher, has taken a gander at Doc and finds that they share the same love for Jules Verne. Love at first sight, indeed, and it will cause problems for those who travel from one time period to another.

If "Part III" has a major star performance, it is Christopher Lloyd who succeeds in finding all the right notes of lunacy and lovestruck innocence in Doc Brown. He is a madman who has found his inner peace in the good Old West, a place to spend his retirement years as he indicated in "Part II." The sweet love scenes between Lloyd and Steenburgen also have the right balance of chemistry and comedy ("I've never, ever, met a man like you before," says Steenburgen). In many ways, especially due to the casting of Steenburgen, the film is a hark back to the wonderful 1979 charmer, "Time After Time" which also had a sweet love story at its center.

Lloyd clearly steals the show from Michael J. Fox, who is left in the desert winds in practically a supporting role. Interestingly, McFly was lectured about life by Doc in the first two films whereas here, he helps Doc understand that love can be lost when meddling with the future and the past. I still wish the filmmakers gave Fox more to do rather playing second banana to Doc. And the final scenes involving Marty's wandering girlfriend, Jennifer (Elisabeth Shue), and some business about playing "chicken" will only serve to confuse those who are not fans of the original two films.

As directed once again by Robert Zemeckis and co-written by Bob Gale, "Back to the Future Part III" is still loads of fun, a high-powered comic adventure that utilizes the Old West setting for several, blink-and-you'll-miss in-jokes and some desperate gags (like Marty stepping on some horse dung or mimicking the "You talkin' to me" line in front of a mirror). But the silliness and momentum keep one's interest and never flags. The performances all hit the right notes and the ending is a stunning surprise with a wonderful visual gag that echoes the original. Not as rich or as weighty as the original, or as frenetic as the sequel, but it is a deft blend of comedy and adventure overall guaranteed to leave you in high spirits.

Paradoxical paradoxes

BACK TO THE FUTURE PART II (1989) 
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

It is often the middle parts of trilogies that are the darkest and most unsavory. "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" was a darker, more graphic adventure in the Indy trilogy. Also shrouded in gloom was "The Empire Strikes Back," the best "Star Wars" movie ever that had no ending. "Back to the Future Part II" has none of the sunny disposition or joy that the original "Back to the Future" possessed. It is more of a carnival of frenetic, action-packed, time-traveling sequences than a movie and about as straightforward as a David Lynch film.

Originally titled "Paradox" and directed by Robert Zemeckis, "Back to the Future Part II" picks up exactly where the original ended. Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) is kissing his high-school sweetheart, Jennifer (Elisabeth Shue replacing Claudia Wells), when out of the blue arrives the crazed, wild-haired inventor Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd) in his time-traveling DeLorean. Brown has seen the future and it is not pretty, and warns Marty that there is a problem involving Marty's future kids! And so they speed off into the year 2015 to the same picture-postcard town of Hill Valley. There are flying cars that leave from ramps, a theater showing "Jaws 19," cafes that play Michael Jackson's "Beat It," hoverboards and so on (and plenty of advertising, including the Roger Rabbit doll from Zemeckis's own "Roger Rabbit" movie). Marty makes a mistake and buys a sports almanac that has scores from the years 1950 to 2000. And who else but good old Biff Tannen (Thomas F. Wilson), the bully from the original film, happens to be eavesdropping on Marty and Doc's conversations about rupturing the space time continuum and making money on predicting future game scores. Needless to say, after Marty's kids are saved from a ludicrously contrived mini-disaster, Marty and Doc head back to 1985 and find that it is a very different place. It turns out that Marty's house is not his own, his father, George, is dead, and the town is presided by a seething, evil billionaire none other than Biff himself who is married to Marty's mother! Yep, this is a cold, ugly world not unlike the alternate reality depicted in "It's A Wonderful Life."

For those who have not seen "Part II," it would be unfair to reveal much more except that this is one of those rare sequels that manages to revisit the original film. It does so in clever ways and the paradoxes and breaks in space time continuum contribute to an ingenious if rather headache-inducing screenplay. You'll need a road map to keep track of all the characters and time lines, and even then it is still confusing. As much fun as it is to make sense of all the contradicting paradoxes in the film, "Back to the Future Part II" desperately lacks joy or at least some sense of human involvement that we should feel in an adventure of this kind. It is often amusing but also repetitive and hollow - we learn plenty about Marty's family but there is never any true insight into his character. The same can be said of Doc Brown, a scientist trying to make sense of the universe and alternate timelines they occupy but there is not a whisper of much else in him - he is simply not just mad but comically mad, in the Jim Carrey vein.

The character of Marty's father, George (played by Jeffrey Wisseman, not Crispin Glover), is basically a cipher who floats around upside down (done on purpose presumably so we wouldn't notice that it isn't Glover). But what of his death in the alternate 1985 by the evil Biff? And what about Marty's mother, Lorraine (Lea Thompson), who in the alternate 1985 looks more haggard and drunk than in the 1985 that the original "Back to the Future" began with (I hope this is making sense). Yes, we learn about their possible futures but, again, they ring hollow at best. They are like Norman Rockwell caricatures from the 1950's that have been demonized by outside forces, namely Marty and Doc.

The first time I saw this movie, I greeted it with groans as did the audience (and the groans got louder when we saw the trailer for the upcoming "Back to the Future Part III"). Seeing it a few times since, "Back to the Future Part II" has an addictive mentality - director Zemeckis and co-writer Bob Gale keep your interest because you have no clue where their ideas will lead you and you want to keep revisiting to make some sense of the plot. It is a frenzied, hyperkinetic nightmare of a movie, an assault on our senses that places its paradoxes and mind-bending logic on overload. But the original "Back to the Future" was a human comedy of manners, a juxtaposition of the 1950's crossed with the value system of the 1980's. The point was that the relationships were at its center and provided the heart of its story. This sequel has the same characters but insists on engaging us with paradoxes, not people. Having said all that, Part II is a creative continuation, not just a rehash of the original's gags and plotline. It says an awful lot about greed in the 1980's and it has a disturbing, nightmarish quality to it. On that level, definitely worth seeing and it improves with repeated viewings. Aside from the fabulous "Back to the Future Part III," how many other sequels invite that much curiosity and revisiting?

Smelly, ugly, nasty trolls

TROLLHUNTER (2010)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 Audiences are used to a steady diet of freaky gore shows that claim to be horror that anything else won't do. Fangoria magazine covered a preview of this movie in early 2011, a mag that often covers horror films that are not resolutely pure gore. André Ovredal's "Trollhunter" is a quixotic delight, a funny and irreverent social commentary on Norway's environment, its circular power lines, the nature of government cover-ups, etc. Okay, I am be overdoing it on subtext but it is also a scary picture because seeing oversized trolls who sniff and kill without remorse is a little terrifying.

A documentary crew is investigating a series of bear killings in the Norwegian countryside. A suspected bear poacher named Hans (Otto Jespersen, a comedian) is followed by the crew into mountainous Norwegian regions, seeking not to kill a bear but those fantastical mammals of folklore - trolls. The difference is that these trolls are nasty, smell bad, kill livestock, make loud snarling noises and are infected with a form of rabies. Hans' job is to kill them with flashes of light that turn the trolls into stone.

The movie is told from the point-of-view of found footage from filmmakers. I might have preferred a more sound approach where we are just following a crew making a documentary, as opposed to edited found footage ("Blair Witch Project" clones have been harping on this cliche for a decade). Still, it doesn't make a big difference - the movie is smooth and quick with moments of sheer terror (Hans in medieval-like armor confronting a troll), comical brilliance (like the three-headed troll that scratches its leg or Hans filling out a troll kill form) and government cover-ups that are exceedingly funny (such as a paint van service that provides dead bears from Croatia so that nobody suspects trolls are responsible for killing animals, or the power station where an occupant has no idea why the power lines run circular in the snowy landscape). Speaking of sheer terror and gravitas, nothing beats a scene where a gigantic troll in the frozen tundra of Norway stars chasing the crew while Hans plays some hymns from his vehicle (I think earlier in the film he sings "Danny Boy" but I could be wrong).

"Trollhunter" is a marvelous, original, often hilarious film, containing more thrills and laughs than the average Hollywood picture. I also like the crew though they are not as memorable as Hans - a hunter who is sick of chasing and killing trolls (he keeps their tails and troll entrails to make himself smell like a troll). Hollywood is wanting to churn out a remake but I say, uh, uh. The movie is so inundated with Norwegian origin and with the visuals of its countryside and woodland areas that only someone from Norway could have made this film.