1,000 dollars for a Polaroid camera

THE SPANISH PRISONER (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is an unexpected joy I have in watching a David Mamet film - a joy mostly derived from his expert unfolding of complex, involving puzzles. Arguably, Mamet is always at his best when he directs his own screenplays as evidenced by "House of Games" and "Oleanna" - his style is simple and direct. "The Spanish Prisoner" is a terrifically entertaining film - an intriguing, finely detailed, exhilarating comic puzzle that leads from one revelation to another.

Campbell Scott stars as Joe Ross, a bespectacled scientist-of-sorts who is also a brilliant mathematician. He's also the inventor of the Process, an invention that will make his company more lucrative than ever before. Ross's boss, Mr. Klein (a laid-back Ben Gazzara), is so impressed by the Process that he holds a meeting in the Caribbean to discuss its future - a company lawyer (Ricky Jay) is on hand to look after the finances. On the Caribbean, Joe meets a typical Mamet character named Jimmy Dell (Steve Martin) who offers Joe one-thousand dollars for his Polaroid camera - this is the kind of request that should drive Joe away from Jim. Denying his request, Joe decides to accept Jim's dinner invitation in exchange for his apologetic remarks. Naturally, Jimmy Dell is the driving anchor of the movie and it would be unfair for me to explain what the plot's surprises have in store for you. Suffice to say, if you are a Mamet fan you'll anticipate many of the twists and turns the plot takes. If you have seen the Mamet-like labyrinth "The Game," you'll see some distinct similarities.

Surprisingly, "The Spanish Prisoner" works because of its characters and the sharp dialogue rather than the elaborate machinations of the plot. Joe Ross is the bland everyman whom things happen to and not always for any clear reasons. As played by Campbell Scott, the character is broadly sketched displaying no apparent flaws or weaknesses except that he's too trustworthy. In other words, he's a cipher - a trait uncharacteristic of Mamet - but Scott manages to bring some droll, subtle humor to Joe's character.

Two of the finest performances in the film are by Steve Martin and Rebecca Pidgeon (Mamet's wife). Steve Martin gives a superb, restrained performance as the seemingly rich New Yorker who asks for other simple services of Joe such as sending a book to his sister in New York. Is that all Jim wants, or is he up to no good? Martin's poise and mannered speaking are as fluent and as engaging as anything he's done in his career. Rebecca Pidgeon (an accomplished singer in real-life who also starred in Mamet's "Homicide") plays one of the sweetest, smartest women in all of Mamet's works. Her character, Susan, Joe's secretary, bears a certain affection to Joe that leads to all kinds of plot turns. Susan is sexy, intelligent, convivial, a bit annoying in the beginning but we grow to like and accept her. She is also manipulative and perhaps deceitful, but we are never sure. My two favorite scenes with Pidgeon are the airplane scene, where she discusses how you never truly know the people in your life, and a hilarious moment where she fabricates an argument with Joe to evade questions from the police.

"The Spanish Prisoner" is in many ways both akin and atypical of Mamet's former films. For one, the film is rated PG. Gone are the customary four-letter words we normally associate with Mamet and, as a result, it's also more light on its feet and less heavy than usual. Part of its lightness comes from the greenish, mossy look of the cinematography that fits perfectly with the title and the mood. Although the film is occasionally flawed and unevenly paced, "The Spanish Prisoner" is still high quality verbal entertainment. From Mamet, I wouldn't have expected less.

This Bitter Earth

KILLER OF SHEEP (1979)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 "Killer of Sheep" is not a film that is designed to entertain, only to inform in the most poetic way possible - through pure images. In that spirit, despite its creaky pacing and other faults, it is an extraordinary portrait of an impoverished black family in L.A, specifically the Watts area.

Stan (Henry Gayle Sanders) is the main character, a slaughterhouse worker who comes home every day, beaten down by life. He feels little in the way of emotion, he doesn't communicate too well with his two kids (one of whom occasionally wears a hound dog mask) and he can't make love to his wife (Kaycee Moore), despite hearing Dinah Washington belting out "This Bitter Earth" on their LP player. There is little joy in this world with friends and other associates barging in and out of his house, kids jumping across the roofs of these small apartments, kids throwing rocks at each other, dragging a car engine with his bare hands, killing sheep at work (at one point, he tells his wife he needs a new job), and in general, a pervading feeling of listlessness. Stan is calm when he drinks tea but more often than not, he is fixing the sink or cutting linoleum. Stan is even treated seductively by a white female grocery/liquor store who will cash his checks but presumably nobody else's. There is the tendency to resort to violence and one feels Stan may or may not consider it. The pressure of his job and family might do him in, or it might not.

"Killer of Sheep" is built out of individual moments of time. There is no plot and as writer-director Charles Burnett describes it, it is meant to be an evocation, an illustration of his reality - akin to a documentary. Some of these episodes of life are strung together without a lot of coherence, and other times there are abrupt cuts or transitions, particularly involving lines of dialogue. The sound quality isn't the best, though that is a minor criticism since the black and white photography is evocative enough. Though Burnett chose to be anti-Hollywood in those days since he rejected polished Hollywood product, it doesn't mean that the editing should lack polish or that the rhythm should be occasionally stilted. Still, such technical limitations do not diminish the power and beauty at work here. "Killer of Sheep's" antecedents, intended or not, are firmly rooted in the neorealism and naturalism of Vittorio De Sica or Satyajit Ray.

"Killer of Sheep" has had a strange history. For Burnett, the film was his UCLA thesis that gained a following but wasn't released theatrically due to music rights. Now, after thirty years, it has been restored by UCLA and shown in some theaters. For a look at poverty and the harshness of life (a timelier topic, now more than ever) without resorting to a political debate or specific black communities, "Killer of Sheep" is a helpful reminder that things haven't changed.

This ain't no 90210

GIRLS TOWN (1996)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

"Girls Town" was released in about one or two theaters during the fall of 
1996. What a shame that smaller, independent films never get anywhere and do not get the promotional push they deserve. "Girls Town" won a series of awards for screenwriting at the Sundance Film Festival, and the push the film spotlights is a ball-of-fire performance by Lili Taylor, the former independent queen of film.                                              

"Girls Town" is the day-in-the-life of four young women in a small, suburban section of New York (or is it New Jersey? It was filmed in both states) who are trying to get through high-school amid all their worries, aggravations and heartaches. Nikki (Aunjanue Ellis) is the most troubled of the group - she inexplicably kills herself. The others, Patti (Lili Taylor), Angela (Bruklin Harris), and Emma (Anna Grace), try to cope with her death and, consequently, confront their own lives and where it may lead them. In a perfectly written scene, the threesome argue and then begin to really talk about themselves after discovering that Nikki was raped in the past. Why can't they talk to each other about what they are going through? Their problems? Their fears? And, more importantly, why couldn't Nikki?

After enduring a moment of truth, the triad become a posse, and they stake out any man who walks in their path. They nearly destroy a hotshot macho guy's car by skewering it with keys and breaking the windows with cement blocks - the scene is both exhilarating and frighteningly funny because it shows how far teenage girls will go to get even. To demonstrate their good deed, they write about it in the girls' bathroom.

It is easy to dismiss "Girls Town" in how it negates macho male stereotypes and shows them as nothing more than abusive, rotten rapists. The movie's special trick is that it doesn't sermonize or preach about how young women are treated today, it skimps over it and blatantly avoids making a socially relevant issue out of it. The beauty of the film is that not all the males are abusive - there is a park cleaner (Michael Imperioli) who makes lewd comments towards Patti, but then he is sweet to her and apologizes.

"Girls Town" is raw, funny and brilliantly alive with some harrowing scenes of rage balanced with wonderfully observant moments of truth and humor. A courageous, low-budget film shot in ten days in New Jersey, it benefits greatly from an inspired, bold performance by Lili Taylor as Patti, and the appealing Anna Grace and Bruklin Harris as Emma and Angela, respectively. You won't look at inner-city teenage girls the same way again.

He Needs Me

PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I have not cared for any of the Adam Sandler films I have seen. They would include "Happy Gilmore," "The Waterboy" and "The Wedding Singer." All of them were box-office hits, not to mention "Big Daddy" and "Billy Madison." My feeling has always been that Sandler was an untalented, uncharismatic actor who could not make me laugh no matter how much he tried. I would occasionally flash a smile or a mild chuckle when he did anything besides beating people to a pulp with a golf club - perhaps, all he needed was the right guide. "Punch-Drunk Love" has finally provided the material that Adam Sandler may have needed to prove his comic worth.

Just the opening sequence alone dictates the unknowable fact that this is no average Adam Sandler flick. Sandler plays Barry Egan, a toilet plunger salesman sitting at his desk inside a giant warehouse, trying to get frequent flyer miles from Healthy Choice products. He hears something outside the warehouse door. He peeks out in the morning light, witnesses a car crash that is as unsettling as any car crash I have seen in recent memory, and out of the blue, a cab drops off a harmonium. Here we see the movie's frequent symbols of uneasy violence against an object of beauty and simplicity. In essence, both symbols correspond with Barry's behavioral impulses. You see Barry is something of a loner. He lives in a bland apartment, has several sisters who call him "gay boy," refuses to go on dates (usually set up by his sisters), has a tendency to smash things, lies then apologizes at the most inopportune times for lying, and basically wants to be left alone. Barry tries a phone sex service that ends up costing him more than he bargained for. He tries to run his business but gets sidetracked by Health Choice products and a sweetheart of a woman named Lena (the aptly cast Emily Watson). The whole movie gets inside Barry's head so that we shift with carefree abandon from one incident to the next, never knowing where Barry or the movie will end up. We know at least it will end up somewhere between a violent cathartis or some poignant note of beauty.

Director Paul Thomas Anderson ("Boogie Nights," "Magnolia") crafts his most experimental feast yet, at a short 1 hour and forty minutes (for those who decried the 3 hour running time of "Magnolia"). He has created a canny comic nightmare from which Barry seems unable to escape from. Barry wants Lena and follows her to Hawaii on a business trip (using up his frequent flyer miles), but everything else is a distraction in his life. When Barry fidgets or feels he is being singled out, he smashes windows, bathrooms where he can barely remove a soap dispenser, and even people. The most fitting line in the film is when Barry professes his love for Lena by saying, "I want to smash your face with a sledgehammer." He doesn't mean it, but violent romantic witticisms are at the heart of his character. Violence, in a sense, is Barry's way of saying he needs help. Lena can calm his violent tendencies, and so can Barry's harmonium which he can hardly play.

Okay, so this is no ordinary Adam Sandler flick as you can well see. Yet I have not had such a good time at the movies since I can remember. "Punch-Drunk Love" is sort of a latter-day "After Hours" with the frenetic rhythms of "Run Lola Run" and a dose of Jacques Tati added to the mix. The result is romantic, strange, exceedingly funny, dramatic, and completely unpredictable (who else but P.T. Anderson could have thought of Shelley Duvall's song from the film "Popeye" "He Needs Me" as a soundtrack choice). There is no way to tell where this film is going, and Sandler's uncharacteristic mannerisms and nervous tics make the experience exhausting, frustrating and entertaining.

Sandler has done something he has not attempted before - his Barry is a character study of what drives his violent and lovey-dovey urges. In the past, we just expected Sandler to go nuts without much explanation. This time, director Anderson provides the basis and insight for the angry behavior. I believe "Punch-Drunk Love" will be considered the ultimate example of lonely, angry males in the new millenium who vent their frustrations by any means necessary.

A special note of mention is Emily Watson, one of the sweetest women in the movies today, with puppy dog eyes and a benign smile that made me a big fan of her work ever since "Breaking the Waves." Her role as Lena is thankless in theory, but it does provide the window of love for Barry that he desperately needs. I also need to mention Mary Lynn Rajskub as Barry's inquisitive sister (she was the cell phone voice who argues with Tom Cruise in "Magnolia," and played a blind woman in "Road Trip") who can't understand what Barry's problems are. One nervy, tensely funny sequence is when Barry's sister follows him from his office to outside the warehouse asking why he can't date Lena and why he keeps so much pudding in his office. She is ideally cast as his sister and sort of looks like Sandler.

There are so many surprises and hysterical sequences in "Punch-Drunk Love" that it would not be fair to dwell much further into the film's story. It is also a clever change-of-pace for Paul Thomas Anderson who continues to surprise me with every film. He is a director to watch out for in the future. And, I never thought I would say this, but Adam Sandler, with the right guide, may be the sparkling star to watch out for as well.

Wise Up and move forward

MAGNOLIA (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(Original review from 1999)

I both loved and hated "Magnolia." Let me explain further. I've seen it twice, and I am convinced that Paul Thomas Anderson's multilayered, mosaic character study is one the best American films of 1999. It is also a frustrating experience of a movie because it is so filled with emotional pain and regret that it causes one to avert their eyes from the screen in the hopes that it will all be over (the 3-hour running time can be exhausting and exhilarating at the same time). Of course, this is what life often feels like, full of regrets and pain since we are all human and flawed. And that is what makes "Magnolia" such a cinematic marvel to witness, but also a painful one.

"Magnolia" is set in L.A. on one rainy 24 hour day. It is raining so much that all the characters keep referring to how it is "raining like cats and dogs." We are shown the lives of several different characters who may live on the same street named Magnolia. There is the lonesome, clumsy cop (John C. Reilly) who is ready for any relationship that comes his way; the elderly Earl Partridge (Jason Robards), a wealthy man who is near death; the sympathetic nurse (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who takes care of Earl; Earl's gold-digging wife with a conscience (Julianne Moore); the strutting, sexed-up guru Frank T.J. Mackey (Tom Cruise), Earl's estranged son; the tired quiz show host dying of cancer (Philip Baker Hall); the coked-up quiz show host's daughter who loves Aimee Mann songs (Melora Walters); the genius whiz kid (Jeremy Blackman), a participant on the aforementioned quiz show; and finally, the lonely, pathetic former child genius Donnie Smith (William H. Macy) who wants love and has love to give.

"Magnolia" begins with an ingenious prologue about chances and coincidences in life, told through some famous urban legends. One includes an attempted suicide that becomes a homicide, a store clerk killed by three thieves who bear his name, and the connection between a blackjack dealer and a pilot. The point of these vignettes is to show how some people can come together by sheer coincidence without knowing why or how. And, in essence, that is what "Magnolia" is about.

Somehow, these people find a way of connecting to each other in ways not imaginable to them, or at least not immediately apparent to them. The most powerful scenes involve the heartless, cynical Frank who is the guru of something called "Search and Destroy," demonstrating to men the various methods on how to get laid (those scenes are as electrifying as anything Cruise has ever done before). When Frank realizes that his father is dying, he badgers the man verbally and then lets out an emotional cannon that is as moving as Marlon Brando's similar moment of realization in "Last Tango in Paris."

Then there is the emotionally high-strung wife of Earl (Moore) who regrets cheating on her husband and suddenly realizes that she loves him. A crucial scene is when she stops at a pharmacy to get medicine for her husband. She is questioned about her prescriptions, and Moore begins to curse the clerk, shaming him for calling her a lady. It is so effectively unwatchable that it will make you cringe. Along with "Cookie's Fortune," "The End of the Affair," and "An Ideal Husband," 1999 will be remembered as the year of Julianne Moore, a gifted actress of extraordinary range.

There are many performances worth mentioning but I will at least mention one of our most unsung actors in America, John C. Reilly (who appeared in P.T. Anderson's "Boogie Nights" and "Hard Eight"). He plays Officer Jim Kurring, who prays quite often and is seeking a mate. He finds one in the quiz show host's daughter (Walters) who plays her stereo far too loud. He is immediately smitten and asks her out on a date, oblivious to her drug abuse and her high-pitched personality. She does not realize what a klutz he is since he loses his gun and nightstick quite often.

"Magnolia" is full of so many great scenes and acute moments of observation that some of it will remind you of Robert Altman's classic "Short Cuts." The similarity ends as far as the mosaic of characters (there were far more in Altman's film) because writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson has a musical structure in mind that is as unusual and breathless as anything I have ever seen before. Never mind the various songs by Aimee Mann (written specifically for the film), Mr. Anderson has also mentioned that he based the narrative structure on the Beatles song, "A Day in the Life." There is even a moment where each of the characters sing the lyrics to the Aimee Mann song "Wise Up." "Magnolia" is surely the most musical of all films in a long time.

It would not be fair to reveal more of the surprises in "Magnolia," since one cannot predict what will happen from one scene to the next. The film builds with so much power and tension that it leads to a climactic moment that you will either love or hate (let's say that the "Exodus 8:2" signs are there for a reason). Some will argue that this film is too strange, bizarre and exaggerated to understand or comprehend (and maybe it is littered with too many profanities - I am keen to agree with most on that one). Those are the naysayers talking who do not wish for cinema to take such leaps and bounds from the ordinary. "Magnolia" is one of the most profoundly moving films of the 1990's with an ensemble cast that is as uniformly brilliant as you can imagine. All great films are tough to forget - this one will grow on you and get underneath your skin. But the emotional pain is tough going for even the most adventurous filmgoers.  

DIRK DIGGLER, what a name!

BOOGIE NIGHTS (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 1997)

Don't be put off by the title: "Boogie Nights" is one of the most vivid, tantalizing and unconventional American films of the past few years. It is intense, dazzling filmmaking by 26-year-old director Paul Thomas Anderson ("Hard Eight") and it is guaranteed to give him a major boost in the world of film and in his career. Yes, folks, he's that good.

"Boogie Nights" is an epic tale of the porno industry in the 1970's and early 1980's, and how it affected the lives of the actors, directors and everyone else involved in the making and production of what is now a billion dollar industry. Burt Reynolds, in what may be his finest role since "Deliverance," is surprisingly credible and understated as a porn director named Jack Horner who yearns to make this industry respectable. One night at a disco, he discovers a potentially hot star in the form of a waiter, Eddie Adams (the extraordinary Mark Wahlberg). Jack talks to Eddie and tries to entice him into becoming one of his actors. Eddie is reluctant but decides it may not be such a bad idea.

The naive Eddie is nineteen years old and lives at home with his domineering parents who pressure him into going to school. Every night he practices some kung-fu moves in front of his mirror and his Bruce Lee and Cheryl Tiegs posters - Eddie aspires to be one of them. He gets the chance with Jack, and shortly becomes an overnight success. He becomes Dirk Diggler, the biggest porn star in the business. "That's a catchy name," says Jack.

After a while, Eddie moves into Jack's home and becomes part of his unusual "family," which includes Jack's leading lady star Amber Waves (the always great Julianne Moore) who will gradually become Eddie's maternal co-star, and an energetic blonde named Rollergirl (Heather Graham - an actress who keeps you on the edge) who will remove all her clothing for a sex scene except for her roller skates. The house becomes a haven for excess in the numerous drug parties and the sexual dalliances in the bedrooms. Eddie is immersed in this world and loves all of the excess and addictions, particularly the addiction to cocaine that leads to his downfall. This is the heavenly dream of the 1970's party scene - to indulge in drugs and sex forever.

The world of porn filmmaking is one aspect that writer-director Anderson does not fully explore. He shows us only glimpses, such as the scenes where Eddie does his first sex scene with Amber demonstrating how the crew maintains their composure while the sex gets hot and heavy. Amber even tells Eddie to come inside her thereby ruining the close-up come shot in a hysterically funny scene. What Anderson is really interested in is the effect porn has on the crew members and the actors: there's a credible section involving one crew member (William H. Macy) who sees his wife, a porn star, continually having sex with other men at parties or on the street in plain view. She has become addicted to sex, but he has not because he doesn't allow it to become a part of his life.

Eddie's rise and fall and rise again are the most startling chain of events in the movie - he becomes so heavily addicted to cocaine that he is fired by Jack on the set due to his temper tantrums. Eddie begins to lead a life of drug deals, homosexual encounters in parking lots, and finally a nearly fatal encounter with a rich drug addict where firecrackers are exploding and the song "Jessie's Girl" by Rick Springfield plays in the background while he and his pals are getting ready to rob the guy. It's a no-win situation and it shows that if sex is no longer an addiction for Eddie, then the gratifying pleasure of his drugs is.

"Boogie Nights" has a similar structure to Scorsese's "GoodFellas" and "Casino" in the stylistic camerawork and editing, and the two-act structure where we see the eventual rise leading to the downward abyss where nothing is left except...more excess (one shot where a girl jumps into the water as the camera follows her underwater is a direct steal from the lyrical "I am Cuba"). The transition from the decadent 70's of promiscuity, endless blissful fun and halter tops to the nastier, more violent era of the 80's, where all that bliss and decadence peter out (Jack has to resort to shooting porn on video because it is cheaper), is handled flawlessly by the deftly written screenplay and the audacious, engaging narrative structure. Anderson's point is that those who survive in the 80's, including Eddie, will still succumb to their initial addictions because that is all they have.

"Boogie Nights" is a garish, violent, unsentimental, alternately funny, humanistic and intricately layered film that will stay with you. It has no particularly likable characters, easy resolutions or sentimental situations. What it does brilliantly, though, is to make us empathize with the characters and with the crucial decisions and surprising events that take place in their lives, and how they learn to cope with their emotions and move on. "Boogie Nights" is about as pure a cinematic treat as you're likely to get.

P.T. Anderson shoots and scores

HARD EIGHT aka SYDNEY (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Paul Thomas Anderson's "Hard Eight" is not about gambling or the roll of the dice at the crap tables. It is the story of one desolate man seeking to resolve other people's problems through his own sheer influence and ability to do so, and not for purely selfish reasons. Yet this man has a history and a past that comes back to haunt him.

Philip Baker Hall plays this sour-faced man, a professional gambler known as Sydney who, at the start of the film, approaches an unlucky joe named John (John C. Reilly) at a cafe and truck stop. Sydney offers John his help, mostly fifty dollars and a cup of coffee. Apparently, John has lost his bets playing at a Vegas casino, trying to come up with enough money to pay for his mother's funeral. "I admire the intention. I can't say it is wise, though," says Sydney. The offer is to take John to Vegas and show him how to make some money, enough for a room and a meal. The process involves an old trick using a rate card, which will be enough cash to last John for a day or more.

Fade out to a couple of years later in Reno, not Vegas. Sydney is still gambling at the casino, playing his keno cards and tipping waitresses. There is one waitress he is keen on, Clementine (Gwyneth Paltrow), a flirtatious waitress who does double duty as a prostitute to pay for her rent and her car. It could cost her waitressing job but Sydney decides to keep it quiet after witnessing her leaving a motel room. He wants to help her, and knows she is enamored with John. Ultimately, Sydney brings them together, as if they were his own kids whom he is looking out for.

"Hard Eight" smoothly handles these characters with growing and knowing affection towards them, accepting them as the people they are without condescending or moralizing them. Sydney is quiet, introspective and has a deep, authoritative voice that envelops you, as it does John and Clementine. His soggy eyes and arched eyebrows give the impression of a man who has spent a lot of time inside a casino, and has seen it all. We know little about him as a character except that he has two estranged kids and was once divorced. But when a stunning revelation is unveiled, it becomes clear he is not all he is cracked up to be, or maybe there are mistaken stories about his past. One is never sure, and Paul Thomas Anderson, who wrote and directed this promising debut, never tells.

Clementine just wants to pay her bills, but is unsure of her own future. Will it be as a waitress who flirts to get tips and doubles as a hooker, or will she open a beauty salon with whatever money she can save? Could she have a future with John? John is a nobody who becomes somebody inside the casino, thanks to his connections with Sydney. John is also friends with Jimmy (Samuel L. Jackson), a two-timing, loud security manager who knows the secrets of Sydney's past. Exactly what is John's job inside the casino is not clear, or if he even has a job (he is adept at getting free cable). Nevertheless, he remains loyal to Sydney, following around him like a puppy and dressing like him to boot. None of these characters are quite what they seem initially, and gradually we realize that their aspirations are severely limited.

Paul Thomas Anderson's assured direction is never less than mesmerizing. His choice of gliding Steadicam shots inside the casino, particularly when tracking Sydney's movements, are wonderful and never call attention to themselves. Other sequences, like the diner scenes involving John and Clementine's meetings with Sydney, are beautifully composed with alarmingly appropriate close-up shots. I also admire the scene between Clementine and Sydney at his hotel room where she thinks she is there to have sex. Sydney stands in front of her as she sits on the bed, yet we only see him from below the waistline. It gives the impression that he is more paternal to her than just another client.

Anderson, who went on to the phenomenal works of pure glitz and sadness of "Boogie Nights" and "Magnolia," never falters in dialogue, direction or pacing (Barbara Tulliver did the seamless editing). If I have a complaint, it is that it ends too soon (a common factor in independent cinema). I could have sat for another hour, listening to these characters and their worries, their fears, and their losses. A couple of sequels would have been more than warranted.

Also known under the more appropriate title, "Sydney," "Hard Eight" is a gloomy, hardly joyous noir tale, more enervated in its stylistic mood and atmosphere than glittery. It shows Vegas and Reno, minus the neon and the glamour. It replaces both with sights of coffee cups, cigarettes and ashtrays, overcast skies outside diners, and dimly lit hotel rooms and casino tables. It is the place of broken dreams, and John, Clementine and Sydney are all there trying to survive and move on. But it is Philip Baker Hall as Sydney who brings the soul and pathos to the film, making it clearly his own. His cool, calm precision at handling matters, despite the fact that his past is creeping up on him at a steady rate, delineates a lost soul trying to maintain his composure. Sydney is one of the most enigmatic and unforgettable characters of the 1990's.