This Bat signal makes me nauseous

BATMAN RETURNS (1992)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I've had mixed feelings towards "Batman Returns" since I first saw it in theaters in 1992. It is a nightmare fantasy of epic proportions with almost too little story, too many characters, and not much fun. Tim Burton made an extreme and freakish Burton film, not a Batman film, and that may be the underlying problem.

The nocturnal Batman/Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton) is back, but this time he is fighting a literal circus of freaks. There are skull masked freaks, the late Vincent Schiavelli as a leader of the circus, and they all shoot at crowds and creating havoc and anarchy but to what cost and for what purpose? It turns out the Penguin (Danny DeVito) is creating havoc from 300 feet below Gotham City. He knows a thing or two about the corrupt Max Schreck (Christopher Walken), a towering businessman who hopes to usurp Gotham's power source to build a power plant, and is trying to keep secret his leakage of toxic waste in the sewers of the city. To keep Penguin quiet, Max helps the fish man find his parents who neglected him and promises to elect him as the Mayor of Gotham.

We are also introduced to the ditsy Selina Kyle (Michelle Pfeiffer), who is killed by Max for having discovered his dastardly plans. She is resurrected by a bunch of cats and becomes Catwoman. Best scene has her destroying her neon sign in her apartment where it reads: "Hell here."

"Batman Returns" is missing one crucial element - Batman and his alter-ego, Bruce Wayne. They both appear in the film but more as an afterthought. The disgusting Penguin and the sexual tease of Catwoman steal the show, and all of Batman's thunder. By the end of the film, you are left wondering what Batman's purpose was, aside from proving he was a freak in the world of Burtonesque freaks in Gotham.

There are a few delights in "Batman Returns." Michelle Pfeiffer is possibly the tastiest choice to play Catwoman ever, and her dual personality is evoked with wit and dramatic punch (a shame that a sole feature film with Pfeiffer's feline character never materialized). Danny DeVito is both fearsome and loathsome to watch as the Penguin - a character of pity and bad puns. As good as DeVito is in the part, it is no match for Jack Nicholson's Joker from the first Batman film.

The movie has creative production design, some stellar noirish cinematography (every shot is subterranean and nocturnal) and fantastic special-effects. But the movie is joyless, frenetic and, occasionally, a chore to sit through. For every scene that magnetizes and dazzles (Batman fighting Catwoman,Walken and DeVito discussing politics, the instrumental of "Super Freak" playing at a costumed ball), there are inert scenes of various explosions, the repetitive use of that Duck mobile (why is that in a Batman movie?) and some cruel violence that will put off even hardcore fans of The Dark Knight graphic novels (the Penguin biting a man's nose that gushes blood hardly elicits a wicked smile, just nausea). "Batman Returns" has some flashes of brilliance but it is anemic and leaves a sour taste in your mouth. As lavish a production as it is, I am not sure that is what Tim Burton intended. 

I am Ron Burgundy?

ANCHORMAN: THE LEGEND OF RON BURGUNDY (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia (originally reviewed in 2006)

 Much like the title character, "Anchorman" is a befuddled, vapid yet thoroughly pleasing cartoon comedy. Like every other comedy nowadays, it is a movie not content with just humoring us - it pushes its reality barrier to Warner Brother cartoon extremes.

Will Ferrell is the fictitious Ron Burgundy, a fairly simple-minded San Diego anchorman who reads everything on his teleprompter without blinking twice, and I mean every punctuation mark, even if it's incorrect. At one point, someone mistakenly places a question mark after his sign off ("I am Ron Burgundy?") Ron Burgundy and his news team have the highest ratings in San Diego, and Ron is not just a preening show-off - he especially takes pride in boasting of his exploits to women who find him attractive. The last thing he wants though is for a woman to be on equal footing. Ron's boss (Fred Willard) has just hired an ambitious, attractive and steadfastly determined woman, Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate) to be anchorwoman. Ron and his buddies vehemently protest this new hire, to the point that they all try to sexually harass her so she'll quit. No sale. In one of the movie's funniest scenes, Ron calls Veronica's desk and pretends to be a news organization from Moscow ("Pack your bags. You're leaving tomorrow morning.")

Most of "Anchorman" deals with Ron's periodic outbursts in front of and behind the camera. There is also a tremendously funny scene where Ron's news team confronts other competing news teams in a street fight! For animal activists, they may cringe at a poor dog kicked out of a bridge like a football! Mostly, this is about Ron Burgundy with a personal crisis - he loves Veronica but he can't stand to see her as an anchorwoman. Feminists may scoff at the movie's underlying sexism - women only exist to be screwed and nothing else. But, hey, there is always true love in the end.

Will Ferrell is in wickedly bristling, restrained form as the mustachioed, romantic anchorman. For the first time in any of his films, I felt genuine pity for his character as he tries so hard to be accepted. Ferrell is no great actor but he is a breezy comic find - more roles of this stature (including "Melinda and Melinda") and he may reach the pantheon of truly great comic actors.

With cameos from Jack Black to Ben Stiller and an engaging presence like Christina Applegate, "Anchorman" scores a few direct laughs and some big howlers (and kudos to casting Steve Carell as a character far more dim-witted than Ron). It is a frenzied cartoon of a comedy, and it kept me smiling from start to finish.

She's all that

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Now imagine a teenage story of a goth high-school student unable to connect to any of her peers - she remains a social outcast. Now imagine that a football jock is piqued by her beauty, or the beauty he sees in her soul, and asks her out on a date. Now further imagine how all the jock's friends are going to react, sensing that a gothic weirdo has no place in their circles. Now sit down, close your eyes, relax, and consider this plot for a moment. Sure, cliches abound like fireflies and, yes, it almost sounds like a Molly Ringwald movie or one of those old girl-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks movies that go back as far as the 30's, if not further. Ask yourself one question: does this sound like the plot for a horror movie like "Carrie"? Hmmm...don't think so.

"The Rage: Carrie 2" is a preposterous medley of the teen romance and horror film genres. What makes it doubly preposterous is that it tries to be a psychological horror film about an outcast and manages to squander its premise with a relatively "normal" teenager who would never be confused for a Sissy Spacek clone.

The goth girl of "Carrie 2" is Rachel (Emily Bergl), a lonely teen student with a best friend (Mena Suvari) whose only connection to her seems to be matching heart tatoos. Rachel's home life is perfunctory at best, living with abusive, uncaring stepparents. You see Rachel's mother went to a mental institution, for reasons never made entirely clear, and so Rachel got foster care and adopted an attitude. Several years later, she attends a high school where the football season is all that matters, the jocks hate her, the girls are all treated like sluts, and a suicide is seen so matter-of-factly by the student body that one of them even takes a picture with the remark, "cool!" Not a fitting environment for Rachel, who only wishes she could be like them, but resents them all the same, or so we believe. It turns out one jock (Jeremy London) feels connected to her in some way, and asks her out much to the chagrin of his fellow buddies.

Rachel now has a boyfriend, but is still saddened by her best friend's suicide. The guidance counselor, Sue Snell (Amy Irving, returning from the original "Carrie") tries to help Rachel, fearing that her telekinetic powers (such as moving Sue's paper weights in the office) may lead to a repeat of Carrie's actions from the past. And on and on, as we are treated to a lot of male bonding scenes between football jocks, a dog is nearly run over, Rachel's house is nearly vandalized, and so on. There is the obligatory set-up of the evil teens siding with Rachel, making friends with her, until we are treated to a humiliating, carnage-packed climax with nerves popping out of Rachel's skin...well, you get the idea.

To be fair, there are some very good scenes in the film revolving around Rachel's relationship with the "good" jock, who does love her (the cafe scene and their love scene in the car are effective). I also liked the early, all too brief scenes with Mena Suvari as Rachel's sad friend.

Emily Bergl has charisma to spare, and has some startling, witchlike eyes - it is hard to take your eyes off her. But why would anyone think she is ugly? She is not that Gothic anyway, more toned down than say Fairuza Balk's character in "Urban Legend." Bergl is beautiful and so the basic premise - social outcast gets revenge on tormenting teens - does not resonate as it did in the original "Carrie." Carrie White was utterly defenseless and often humiliated - she was made to feel worthless and her telekinetic prowess was her only salvation. In this film, Rachel seems to handle herself rather well, and is only humiliated once prior to the bloody climax. The buildup is not there for us to sympathize with her need to kill all the jocks and cheerleaders.

"The Rage: Carrie 2" is not really comprised of much rage or fury to speak of. It is not boring and it is often watchable, but the melding of such genres does not make for a cohesive whole. It all goes downhill with the unnecessarily gory and unpleasant climax that will leave you reeling as to why so many teens had to die (especially the good to merely decent). Bring back Sissy Spacek!

They are all going to laugh at you

CARRIE (1976)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Carrie" is geeky horror with its tongue firmly placed on its cheek until the final reel. That is when an onslaught of violence makes us realize Brian De Palma's sleight-of-hand at the controls. This is De Palma's most absorbing film, utilizing his admiration for Alfred Hitchcock in ways he could never manage later on.

Sissy Spacek is the freckled, extremely shy high school teenager Carrie White, the butt of all jokes and abuse by her gym class. Her class is full of whiny, rebellious teen girls, all of whom have great contempt for Carrie. Why? Maybe because Carrie is too easy to pick on or maybe because they use her as a scapegoat for their problems. The most rebellious and popular girl in school, Chris Hargensen (Nancy Allen), wants to get even with Carrie since Chris is forbidden to go to the prom by her gym instructor, Miss Collins (Betty Buckley). It turns out the class had taunted Carrie in the shower at school and, now, everyone has to pay for it with detention. Chris does get even by using her dopey boyfriend (a very young John Travolta), whom she refers to as an idiot, to get some...well, you might know where this is leading. The infamous chaotic climax says it all, and if you have seen this film, you know exactly what I am referring to.

Carrie's home life should be paradise compared to high school but it is closer to the definition of Hell on Earth. Her mother, Margaret White (Sissy Spacek), is a religious woman who doesn't want her daughter sullied by her high school experiences. If Margaret feels Carrie has sinned, particularly with the observance of her "dirty pillows," then Carrie is to be locked in a closet. There is no way on earth that Carrie could ever go to the high school prom with the most popular guy in school, Tommy Ross (William Katt), if her mother is so inhumanly strict.

Based on Stephen King's novel which put the novelist on the map, "Carrie" is like no other horror film before it. There is nothing Gothic about "Carrie" and there are definitely no inhuman monsters that she has to face. Like "The Exorcist" in 1973, "Carrie" is concerned with the main character and her own personal demons within a realistic setting. She has a rare talent for telekinesis though director De Palma wisely uses a gimmicky horror device sparingly. What I remember most about "Carrie" are its honest depictions of high school life. The volleyball game where Carrie misses hitting the ball starts the film off (not to mention P.J. Soles as Norma, who whacks Carrie on the head with her red hat). The lovingly eroticized, slow-motion sequence of the girls showering after the game while Carrie discovers a typical occurrence in teen girls, her period. The "American Graffiti" moment where Chris is cruising with her boyfriend while listening to Martha Reeves' "Heatwave." The sympathetic Miss Collins consoling Carrie, who can't believe Tommy Ross has asked to her to the prom.

Sissy Spacek makes the most of her compassionate view of Carrie - a bemused girl with a talent few share and an inability to belong. Spacek makes Carrie into a frightened, fierce, sometimes helpless, tormented girl but always showing how human and caring her soul is. Her transformation from helpless and insular to a lovely prom queen to a Satanic, blood-soaked figure of uncontrollable means is thrilling to watch. It is emotionally frustrating for the audience to see that Carrie mistakes the kindness of others for unduly cruelty, particularly during the horrifying climax.

Piper Laurie ("The Hustler") is no less thrilling as the equally tormented and tormenting mother, Margaret, who has no patience for sin. She has a slew of great moments but one that works wonders, illustrating her character's growing madness, is when she sees Carrie's pink prom dress. "You are wearing a red dress," says Margaret. "It's pink momma," says Carrie. It is a moment that still makes me squirm, as does the whole film.

If there are any flaws, it is that De Palma's film could have been longer (reportedly budgeted at the meager sum of 1.8 million). It seems that it skips by so fast that you wish there was more. "Carrie" is the kind of film that could have become a TV series because of its up front view of teen life (it later became a musical). Still, it is the Amy Irving character, Sue Snell, that leaves me wondering about her motives. Firstly, Susan seems to be hateful of Carrie but then she decides to ask her own boyfriend (!) to take Carrie to the prom. It is also clear that Sue is not aware of Chris's plans at the prom, but why the change of heart? Minor flaw but still perplexing.

De Palma has many tricks up his sleeve, and his innovative use of slow-motion and split-screen techniques serve him well since he uses whatever he needs to make his story come alive. But what is most clever is how he has made an almost jokey revenge tale as humane as he has, thanks to Spacek, and then turns the screws from a typical high school tale into a gripping horror film that can dazzle but also scare you into oblivion. The final shot is proof of this.

Comedy rule: never spoof a spoof

PLUMP FICTION (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

As with "Scary Movie" parodying "Scream," it is simply a real effort to sit through "Plump Fiction," a parody of "Pulp Fiction" and "Reservoir Dogs." Why? Well, the jokes are simply recycling dialogue bits and other gags from "Pulp Fiction" without the finesse or pungent wit Tarantino brought to his own work. The concept behind "Plump Fiction" just can't possibly work anyway.

The filmmakers of this film forget that satire and parody search for the sublime and the ridiculous in other notable films that may have unintentionally funny scenes or that have material ripe for parody. Keenan Ivory Wayans might have done better satirizing "Nightmare on Elm Street" and the "Friday the 13th" films more so than "Scream" when making "Scary Movie." The reason is because "Scream" was a postmodern slasher flick that actually winked at the audience already, providing the humorous ambition of actually satirizing and deconstructing the slasher genre. Say what you will about "Scream" but I never took it seriously as a modern horror film, at least not in the same breath as "Halloween" or "The Exorcist."

The same problem plagues "Plump Fiction." There is a scene in the horrendous wannabe spoof "Spy Hard" where Leslie Nielsen and a female lead dance at a club mimicking the expressions of John Travolta and Uma Thurman's famous dance sequence from "Pulp Fiction." The problem is that the sequence from "Pulp" was a riff on Travolta's dance numbers from "Saturday Night Fever" and a riff on the Batdance from the pulpy "Batman" TV series. It was already mocking and satirizing those pop-culture icons. So how can you possibly spoof or satirize something that is already a spoof? It goes without saying that "Plump Fiction" has a similar dance sequence that is actually funny, but not at the same level as "Pulp" was.

"Plump" basically reiterates most scenes from "Pulp" and "Reservoir Dogs." Scenes involving Sandra Bernhard and some Reservoir Nuns, not to mention Forrest Gump and Nell, hardly elicit much of a smile. Best bits involve Pamela Segall and Matthew Glave as the Coxes, riffing on "Natural Born Killers" which is certainly ripe for parody. Segall does an excellent impersonation of Juliette Lewis and her body language - the difference is that she is in on the joke and it is well-executed. Tommy Davidson is also terrific as Julius, the Samuel L. Jackson character, and at least he brings his own persona to the proceedings. I also enjoyed a clever scene that parodied "Clerks" and "Reality Bites." But many of these gags seem desperate at best.

The Zucker brothers have made spoofing a household name but consider the sources they were spoofing. "Airplane" spoofed all disaster films in general. "Top Secret" spoofed all spy films and Elvis pictures. And so on. Their targets were films that were not aiming to be funny at all. "Pulp Fiction" was a black comedy that was riffing and deconstructing all of film noir in general. That is what the filmmakers of "Plump Fiction" have forgotten.

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.