Before Sunset
REVIEWED 08/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

This enormously thought-provoking and freshly entertaining romantic sequel to director Richard Linklater's 'Before Sunrise' (1995) has Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy reprising their roles as Jesse and Celine as they meet and chat in Paris during the last hours of the last stop on a twelve-day ten-city promotional junket for his new, unabashedly life-based novel 'This Time', nine years after their brief yet unforgettable time together in Vienna. Admittedly, I never saw the first movie. However, if it's half as incredibly rich with smart and provocative dialogue as this thoroughly captivating contemporary offering is from returning director Linklater ('Dazed and Confused' (1993), 'The School of Rock' (2003)) - who reportedly got the idea that he and co-writer Kim Krizan turned into the original's script, after his similar experience meeting a woman in Philadelphia - hell mend Blockbuster if they don't have 'Sunrise' in stock. Hawke and Delpy are magnificent together, in this eighty-minute masterpiece that was apparently shot in real time (although edits and cuts are obvious), as these two world weary souls reconnect with such astounding natural perfection while lazily spending this second brief time together before Jesse's flight back to the States is due to leave. Your heart immediately goes to them, and systematically sinks further into desperation for them to recapture that piece of past magic that has shaped their lives ever since. Just watching these two intelligent characters candidly talk and joke about anything and everything, verbally circling around the lingering, powerful feelings they continually betray with their eyes and body language, is pure cinematic poetry. Delpy's brilliantly insightful line, "Memories are wonderful things, if you don't have to deal with the past," pretty well says it all. Sure, not a whole lot happens beyond these two people coyly reminiscing and re-evaluating their place in the universe throughout the course of this picture of shared musings, quirky anecdotes, and healing commiserations, but that's really part and parcel of what makes 'Before Sunset' such a deliciously intriguing in-the-moment study for a mature audience interested in spending time with this impressively superior production. It's a short movie, and probably a tough one to hunt down outside of the Art House circuit, but definitely do yourself a huge favour and check out this immensely rewarding worthwhile romantic interlude that will likely leave you still wanting more. Awesome.

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Being Julia
REVIEWED 10/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Based on Paris-born former World War 1 secret agent turned successfully prolific novelist and playwright William Somerset Maugham's (1874-1965) 1937 book 'Theatre', this hugely entertaining romp stars Academy Award-nominated Annette Bening ('The American President' (1995), 'American Beauty' (1999)) as Julia Lambert, the self-doubting middle aged Grand Dame of the London Theatre in 1938. Julia is exhausted, tired of the rigors of her celebrity, and is yearning for something new to happen in her comfortably tumultuous life with her longtime theatre manager husband Michael Gosselyn (Jeremy Irons; 'Kafka' (1991), 'The Man in the Iron Mask' (1998)). Enter Tom Fennel (Shaun Evans), an ambitious young American hired on as Michael's new accountant, who almost instantly seduces Lambert as an adoring fan and transparently opportunistic lover half her age. Gossip and talk of scandal aside, Julia feels alive again. That is, until she eventually realizes the horrible truth that Tom has begun dating Repertory stage starlet Avice Crichton (Lucy Punch; 'Ella Enchanted' (2004)) - the actress Lambert is soon to be starring opposite in her new, One Act play 'Nowadays' - and a decidedly more sneaky, somewhat malevolent fire spurs Julia to reclaim her rightful spotlight of glory in life and on stage.

What an absolutely wonderful, witty movie. It's clear that Oscar-winning screenwriter Ronald Harwood's ('The Statement' (2003), 'The Pianist' (2002)) background is planted firmly in theatre, using that experience here in much the same delightfully wry way as seen in his semi-biographical stage to screen script for 'The Dresser' (1983). Examining similar themes of behind the scenes angst and madness with marvelous detail and sometimes-uproarious hilarity. Acclaimed two-time Cannes-winning, Genie-nominated director István Szabó ('Mephisto' (1981), 'Sunshine' (1999)) deftly allows this incredible star-studded story to tell Julia's character development as a somewhat insecure and flighty old rose into someone with a better grip on life, family, and her career by the closing credits. Bening is astounding, easily switching from the boisterously puffy-cheeked high drama of 1930's theatre performance to a more focused, contemporary portrayal of this fascinating woman's reawakening. Succeeding in giving a paying audience that fairly difficult balance is where this hundred and five minute flick becomes a true marvel. Particularly during the final act, when Lambert's mischievous plans for the vengeful humiliation of those who have wounded her are finally revealed with fiery panache on opening night. My only real quibble is that her so-called nemesis in love and centre stage is hardly her equal, and so it's like watching a duel between a prime swordswoman and a woefully unarmed foe at times. Thankfully, there's more to 'Being Julia' than this satisfying and funny climax. Irons and Sir Michael Gambon (as her rather boorish, internalized Greek Chorus muse in the guise of former theatre director Jimmy Langton) also pull in extraordinary performances that easily lift this picture far beyond expectation. I'd be extremely surprised if this offering doesn't get the Oscar nod. Do yourself a huge favour and check out this wonderfully well paced and entertaining, decidedly mature romp for the astounding acting throughout and delightfully clever dialogue.

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Birth
REVIEWED 10/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

A grey decade after Anna's (Nicole Kidman; 'The Hours' (2002), 'The Human Stain' (2003)) loving, workaholic Manhattan husband Sean was taken from her by a fatal heart attack under a slate arched bridge on a lonely, snow swept bend of Central Park pathway, her sympathetic boyfriend Joseph (Danny Huston; 'Rockin' Good Times' (1999), '21 Grams' (2003)) joyously punctuates an evening gathering of friends and family by announcing their happy marriage plans. It's been rough for Joseph; patiently courting this hesitant object of his affections over the past three years, trying to help fill her weary broken heart with a love strong enough to let go of Anna's deeply wounded sorrow. However, when a ten year-old boy named Sean (Canadian-born Cameron 'Bright' Crigger; 'Lone Hero' (2002), 'The Butterfly Effect' (2004)) strays from the lobby bench of this couple's luxury apartment building and unceremoniously informs an initially skeptical Anna that he is her long-deceased husband come back from the grave, her comforting relationship with Joseph is systematically poisoned by residual feelings and a growing need to believe that she can somehow recapture her former life with Sean through this enigmatic child.

Sparks of absolute brilliance wonderfully captured by cinematographer Harris Savides helmed by co-writer and acclaimed director Jonathan Glazer ('Sexy Beast' (2000)) are what make this tightly spun, small character study such a worthwhile gem over-all. There are moments of sharply sparse dialogue from Glazer's, Milo Addica's, and Jean-Claude Carrière's deftly mature script that immediately resonate with a purity of truth between this astounding, star-studded cast that includes Anne Heche ('Six Days Seven Nights' (1998), 'John Q' (2002)) and Oscar-nominated Lauren Bacall (born Betty Joan Perske; 'The Big Sleep' (1946), 'The Mirror Has Two Faces' (1996)). Unfortunately, there are scenes that do feel lacking. Yes, the part where both Kidman and Bright are shown in the same bathtub nude is actually unnecessary to the plot and does conjure cringe-response expectations of this becoming a gender-switched remake of 'Lolita' (1997) by the last reel. However, I'm surprised and somewhat disappointed at the current swell of so-called controversy surrounding this 2004 Venice Film Festival Award nominee, considering far more attention (and praise) should be lauded upon such enormously gripping scenes as the minutes of relative silence when all you see is Kidman's expressive face in close-up while her character's mind reels through a whirlwind of emotions. Or, when she and Bacall are trading trite words while their body language betrays a host of feelings fighting to explode. Absolutely, incredibly jaw-dropping. The story itself, while likely mildly contrived and overtly bizarre for North American moviegoers at times, does present an interesting examination of reincarnation - something that's apparently a completely normal aspect of some Eastern cultures, where children who claim to have the soul of a returned relative, a lost spouse, or the immortal Dalai Lama, are believed and encouraged - despite the obvious ramifications to those who are left with the unsettling task of accepting or dismissing such a claim. How it all unravels is both elegantly insightful and carefully handled for the most part, as an intensely intriguing premise that's neither a ghost story nor outrageously pedophilic when put into context. 'Birth' is obstensively an Art film about death. It's about the death of a loved one and of relationships; the death of clear reasoning and sanity. Intended for mature movie buffs interested in inspired and thoughtful post-screening conversation. Take it as that, concentrating on the outstanding performances over-all, and you shouldn't feel particularly disappointed by its two minutes of questionable nudity and a somewhat self-deflating, over-long ending. Definitely worth a look.

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Bridget Jones 2
REVIEWED 11/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

It's the beginning of a new year and the promising start to a new diary for voluptuously frumpish, seriously intrepid Sit-Up Britain television fluff piece video journalist Bridget Jones (Renée Kathleen Zellweger; 'Jerry Maguire' (1996), 'Cold Mountain' (2003)) - both being capped off with her hopelessly, deliriously in love with the most brilliantly perfect of all boyfriends, London's human rights lawyer Mark Darcy (Colin Firth; 'The English Patient' (1996), 'Girl with a Pearl Earring' (2003)). And, thankfully, Mark actually happens to be the adoring boyfriend of none other than Bridget Jones. However, he doesn't seem too keen on marriage. And, he's certainly been spending a suspicious amount of time with his lithe and leggy, twenty-two year-old assistant Rebecca Gillies (Jacinda Barrett) of late. Meanwhile, that lecherous snake Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant; 'Mickey Blue Eyes' (1999), 'Love Actually (2003)) has re-entered the picture, slightly less snake-like than is usual, but he's sure to snap out of it soon enough. The big problem is this whole Mark not wanting to marry Bridget thing. Sweltering for fifteen to twenty years behind bars in a Thai prison for smuggling some garish fertility bowl made of cocaine would be considerably more agreeable than dealing with this ominous twinge of uncertainty. Her close single friends Shazzer (Sally Phillips), Tom (James Callis) and Jude (Shirley Henderson) think that Mark's hiding something dreadful. An unmentioned fling with Rebecca, perhaps. Or worse, his embarrassed disapproval of Bridget's self-supposed inadequacies, she fears. And, Cleaver's convincingly smooth advances aren't much helping Ms. Jones' capacity for clear reasoning either. Oh dear.

Well, if you were a huge fan of the first blockbuster movie, 'Bridget Jones's Diary' (2001) - adapted from novelist Helen Fielding's 1989 best seller, you'll likely fall in love all over again with this decidedly soft comedic sequel based on Fielding's follow-up 2001 book. With this returning main cast of bubbly players chirping along to Fielding's, Andrew Davies', Richard Curtis' and Adam Brooks' rife with broad yet light humour and safely resolved dilemmas screenplay, Brit director Beeban Kidron ('Used People' (1992), 'To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar' (1995)) really doesn't waver from or expand upon what worked for the original - reportedly meant to be a contemporary retelling of famed novelist Jane Austen's (1775-1817) world renowned novel 'Pride and Prejudice' - a classic apparently written in the late 1790's yet first published in 1813. 'Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason' (its full title) obviously aspires to be taken as the newest in a long line of romantic screwball comedies, but this one feels as though there's something missing. The lacking of a certain recognizable freshness in the material for a paying audience to be completely captivated by, it seems. Making this hundred and ten minute screening feel more like an unsurprising rehash noticeably bereft of any more potentially hilarious jokes than what you've likely already seen in the ads. And, that's a shame. Certainly check it out as a moderately enjoyable, Muzak-like feel-good date flick so that you know what your co-workers are chatting about at the water cooler, but it's a fairly forgettable cinematic confection that could have easily been far less airy and a whole lot more satisfying.

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Blade 3
REVIEWED 12/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

There is a world hidden beneath the world of humans, where powerful yet weakened immortals, brutally scattered in the wake of internal overthrow and external siege, still conspire towards complete domination of the Earth and the enslavement of Mankind. This is the world of Vampires. Blood-thirsty creatures of the night, continuously held at bay by the Sun's scorching light. Utilizing the boundless resources of Biomedica Industries, helmed by vampiric executrix Danica Talos (Parker Posey; 'Dazed and Confused' (1993), 'A Mighty Wind' (2003)), these ruthless demons have finally discovered and awakened the ancient Sumerian shape shifting warrior Dracula (Dominic Purcell; 'Mission: Impossible II' (2000)) from his crumbling Iraqi desert tomb. He was the first vampire, and this Modern Day spawn intend to mix his untainted DNA with theirs in order to become a master race of Daywalkers that can ultimately overlord this planet of unsuspecting, two-legged cattle. Talos also hopes that Dracula - now called Drake - will bring the swift destruction of their seemingly unbreakable, second greatest enemy: Eric 'Blade' Brooke (Wesley Snipes; 'Passenger 57' (1992), 'Undisputed' (2002)). However, this lone Dhampir - or, Daywalker - since birth and vengeance-sworn Vampire Slayer has escaped their latest trap and quickly, tenuously, allies himself with a small motley band of vampire killers called The Nightstalkers, led by Danica's former slave Hannibal King (Vancouver's Ryan Reynolds; 'Van Wilder' (2002), 'The In-Laws' (2003)), and Abigail Whistler (Jessica Biel; 'Ulee's Gold' (1997), 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' (2003)), a skilled archer linked to Blade's longtime mentor (Abraham Whistler, reprised by Kris Kristofferson; 'Convoy' (1978), 'Planet of the Apes' (2001)).

Well, I certainly hope the timeless legacy of Irish novelist Bram Stoker's (1847-1912) famed 1897 horror story 'Dracula' doesn't end with this incredibly silly offering. Loosely taken from the pages of the 1970's comic book series 'Tomb of Dracula' created by former Marvel Comics co-editor Marv Wolfman and illustrator Gene Colan, and continuing the basic premise established in the far superior 'Blade' (1998) and 'Blade II' (2002), 'Blade: Trinity' (its full title) can't seem to decide what it wants to be. This stinker definitely takes a decidedly wimpy detour from the brooding gory dark side seen previously, towards becoming little more than a sideshow parody of itself. A cheesy cinematic stake tritely shoved through the heart, frankly. Fans of Maximilian 'Max' Schreck's (1879-1936) classic Graf Orlok in 'Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens' (1922), or Be'la Ferenc Dezso 'Bela Lugosi' Blasko's (1882-1956) iconic Count in 'Dracula' (1931), or of Gary Oldman's superb 1992 fusion of Stoker's fable-based aristocratic neck biter with Romania's infamous Prince of Wallachia, Vlad III 'Draculea' Tepes (1431-1476), will undoubtedly cringe at Purcell's laughably disappointing, CGI enhanced, one-dimensional performance here. When cuneiform writing is explained while in the Cradle of Civilization, and there's no mention of Lilith - an original night demon from Hebrew mythology reportedly also cited in the Dead Sea Scrolls and The Bible - an opportunity to create a wonderfully rich back story has surely been overlooked by lazily telling you that nobody knows this Dracula's true origins. Comic book purists, who might know that Hannibal King was an ex-patriot Brit private detective turned into a self-denying vampire along the same lines as seen in 'Interview With the Vampire' (1994), will likely wonder why that character's been morphed into a substanceless walking joke book of unfunny wise cracks as well. Sure, 'Blade' was obviously always intended to be an updated, two-fisted anti-hero hybrid of Professor Abraham Van Helsing, skulking in the shadows while defending humanity against those legions of pointy-toothed Undead and their Renfield-like 'familiars'. However, writer/director David S. Goyer's ('ZigZag' (2002)) script feels more like recognizable elements from 'The Fearless Vampire Killers' (1967) and 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' (1992) tangled in a train wreck with Snipes' established character and far more captivating story line throughout, while still heavily relying on a ticket holder's vague recollection of the first two movies. This is a brand new Blade though, with battle-ready, new blood next generation side kicks posturing chop socky choreography to a trippy backbeat all obviously inspired by 'Underworld' (2003) y'know. Resulting in this outrageously stupid, overtly patronizing and badly executed hundred and thirteen-minute disaster, where each supporting player steals and then derails your attention to the point where Blade ends up being a bored-looking, weak cameo walk-on that almost rivals Kristofferson's Whistler by the second half. It's an ironic piece of trivia that the Stoker Estate won a lawsuit that apparently led to the destruction of all but pirated reels of the original 1922 silent film 'Nosferatu' shortly after its release, and yet an egregiously inferior, talent-wasting vampire flick like 'Blade 3' will probably go unnoticed - quickly forgotten, hopefully.

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Bright Young Things
REVIEWED 12/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Mere hours after returning to London from Cannes; losing the manuscript of his new novel, 'Vile Bodies', to the overzealous Dover Port Authority along the way, financially challenged young Daily Excess newspaper protégé Adam Fenwick-Symes (Stephen Campbell Moore) quickly settles into the wild night life of 1930's England at a terribly wild, private high society party with his rather terribly wild, high society fiancée Nina Blount (Emily Mortimer; 'The Ghost and the Darkness' (1996), 'Notting Hill' (1999)) and their terribly, terribly wild, high society friends, ditzy fellow Excess reporter Agatha Runcible (Fenella Woolgar; 'Vera Drake' (2004), 'Stage Beauty' (2004)) and dope-snorting rich fop Miles (Michael Sheen; 'Mary Reilly' (1996), 'Laws of Attraction' (2004)). They are the last of a dying breed. The 'Génération au Feu'. This small band of deliriously madcap hedonistic socialites born into this scandalously doomed, carefree and never ending masquerade of Jazz-fuelled, absinthe-swilling, nose-thumbing bad behaviour exaggerated and emblazonned across the morning news' headlines for the outward shock and guilty delight of addicted everyday readers from across the nation. However, Adam is still broke and owes a completed sellable manuscript to his publishing magnate boss, Lord Monomark (Ottawa's Dan Aykroyd; 'Celtic Pride' (1996), '50 First Dates' (2004)), before Fenwick-Symes and Miss Blount can ever hope to finally wed. Luckily, Monomark finds himself suddenly needing a new writer for his newspaper's popular 'Mr. Chatterbox' society column, and - with the understanding that actual aristocratic heirs and A-list celebrities can no-longer be named, for fear of further lawsuits - Adam is soon concocting a myriad of fashionably avante garde eccentrics to dazzle subscribers as the paper's new gossip monger of the stars.

Well, this mildly irreverent cinematic adaptation of famed novelist Evelyn Arthur St. John Waugh's (1903-1966) second book, 'Vile Bodies', first published in 1930, tries desperately to be a rip roaring escapade of relentlessly witty humour throughout. The problem is, 'Bright Young Things' isn't particularly clever or captivating or funny for the most part. Brit comedian/actor/writer/first-time director Stephen Fry's (seen in 'Wilde' (1997) and 'Le Divorce' (2003)) screenplay feels more like a stage to screen effort that probably would have worked better as a serial on radio. A fair portion of this hundred and five-minute 2003 offering relies so heavily on vocal caricature and fast-paced banter to push the story along, rather than actually letting cinematographer Henry Braham's lens capture anything particularly fresh or sustainably imaginative. It likely looked hilarious on paper, but the big screen results quickly end up mired in long bouts of horrendously dull moments made further excruciating to sit through by this ensemble cast's overtly contrived cheeriness and false enthusiasm. Nothing about this movie seems genuine or likable, unfortunately. Sure, it's obviously a character-driven farce of sorts, rife with vapidly puffy-cheeked, noisy human-sized finger puppets shuffling around on screen with their collectively glib tongue firmly planted in cheek. The script is definitely written with the same broadly over emphasized pen strokes familiar in Fry's own far more enjoyable past novels and teleplays, but as a lazily indulgent pastiche cobbled into a full-length feature as what seems like a begrudging afterthought, where laughably unfunny segments of tepid self effacement and plain old fashioned bad acting are meant to pass for Waugh's inspired wry satire meant for a contemporary paying audience. It doesn't work. Save your time and money, simply borrow and read the original book, and steer clear of this surprisingly dull and boring disappointment.

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Bukowski: Born Into This
REVIEWED 12/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

"born like this / into this / as the chalk faces smile / as Mrs. Death laughs...," growls Henry Charles Bukowski Jr. (1920-1994), reading his dire poem 'Dinosauria, we' - one of hundreds featured in his last living compilation, Last Night of the Earth Poems (1992). Bukowski's raw voice narrates the words over black and white street side footage of him, his gnarled wounded face, his slouched thug body shouldering edgewise, taken for a 1972 German documentary. "born into this / walking and living through this / dying because of this / muted because of this / castrated / debauched / disinherited / because of this..." The words themselves superimposed across the screen, appearing and disappearing in unison with his rasping voice. "radiated robot men will stalk each other," his poem continues, now sounding like prophetic ramblings from a whiskey drunk back alley Nostradamus, "the rich and the chosen will watch from space platforms / Dante's Inferno will be made to look like a children's playground..." The handheld camera stays with him, showing this world-famous man stumbling around outside of his ramshackle LA bungalow, until his poem is finished. And then, he's gone. Your eyes are forced to blink hard, as the next, full colour shot shows his widow Linda sitting by her husband's simple grey headstone for director John Dullaghan's insightfully compelling documentary about Bukowski's tumultuous life.

This important biopic spans from his formative and teenaged years, tortured by severe physical abuse and scarring acne vulgaris, through his early manhood as an Los Angeles City College journalism drop out traveling across the United States one flop house at a time while trading his short stories for rejection notices with various magazine editors, until a near-fatal bout of bleeding stomach ulcers at thirty-five and a turn to poetry set Bukowski on the path towards becoming one of most celebrated literary personalities of the 20th Century. Critics called Bukowski - who published over forty-five books of poetry during the same number of years, with the movie 'Barfly' (1987) based on his life - the next Walt Whitman (1819-1892). However, he was also a thunderously difficult alcoholic and uninhibited womanizer who loved Classical music, detested the plastic "Disney-fication" of the world, and would just as easily spray his fans with obscenities than show them civility. A former Postal worker, his own style of writing transcended the structure and pretense of his peers by clearly focusing on the grimy, puerile decay of human sexuality and dreams as seen from the blunt, nightmarish underbelly of American society. Dullaghan brings you a collection of various broadcasted candid clips of the man, interspersed with interviews of Bukowski's long-time Black Sparrow Press publisher John Martin, his Open City anti-establishment tabloid editor John Bryan, friend and actor Sean Penn ('The Game' (1997), '21 Grams' (2003)) and fan Tom Waits, several ex-girlfriends, and Marina, his daughter from a relationship that pre-dated his oftentimes turbulent nine-year marriage. Further highlighted by readings of Bukowski by Bukowski, Bono, and friend Harry Dean Stanton ('The Last Temptation of Christ' (1988), 'The Green Mile' (1999)). Part biography, part Art Film, this marvelous hundred and thirteen-minute, 2003 offering not so much lionizes Bukowski as examines and explains the man behind the myths, and truly is an incredibly worthwhile cinematic treasure. Capturing the full breadth of this self-destructive genius' struggles and successes and sense of humour. As the camera returns to framing Linda Lee Bukowski sitting on that green manicured cemetery lawn for the final scene, the gratifying feeling from taking this intimate journey is undeniably overwhelming and lasts long after the final credits roll, but you still can't help but crack a smile at the inscription on her beloved's carved gravestone: "Don't Try." Awesome.

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Bad Education
REVIEWED 01/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Fresh ideas. Spain's acclaimed independent film director/producer Enrique Goded (Fele Martínez; 'Darkness' (2002), 'Tánger' (2004)) continues his daily work ritual of searching through the local newspapers for fresh ideas. Real stories. Small human dramas - normally involving a tragic death - that touch him in some way and at least inspire him to clip them out. So, when a man appears at his office door introducing himself as a long lost schoolmate from St. Francis, an overwhelmed Goded's mind is almost immediately transported sixteen years into his own saddened past. Back to 1964, when he and his lover Ignacio Rodriguez - who this somewhat unrecognizable twenty-six year-old theatre actor sitting across from him, calling himself Ángel (Mexico's Gael García Bernal; 'El Crimen del padre Amaro' (2002), 'Diarios de motocicleta' (2004)), claims to be - first met as ten year-old choir boys, under the less than perfect hand of Father Manolo (Daniel Giménez Cacho; 'Bandidos' (1991), 'Y tu mamá también' (2001)). Of course, those fond memories of Ignacio aren't too difficult to conjure up, considering that Ángel has provided him with a detailed memoir of their days together. A carefully typewritten manuscript, entitled The Visit, citing their first meeting on the soccer court of the old monastery and of their first naive sexual encounter under the shimmering screen presence of legendary diva María Antonia Alejandra Vicenta 'Sara Montiel' Elpidia Isadora Abad Fernández at the Cine Olympo. Such fond memories. Powerful. Touching. Perfectly matched to what Enrique is now looking for in a new movie project for his 1980's audience. However, what he slowly begins to realize is that struggling thespian and part-time drag queen stage performer might not be confiding the entire truth to him. More clues emerge, when Goded tracks down Rodriguez's aged mother, and he's then forced to piece together what actually happened when traces of homicide become crystal clear to him.

Frankly, it would have been very easy to write off this latest offering from acclaimed Oscar and Cannes-winning writer/director Pedro Almodóvar ('Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios' (1988), 'Hable con ella' (2002)) as little more than a trite big screen peep show into affected homosexuality, transvestitism and pedophilia. Most of Almodóvar's films have dealt with sexuality in one form or another over the years, but what makes this one different is in how unwaveringly stark and mercurial his characters are. Pretty well everyone is presented as shades of grey, capable of changing direction at any point during this subtitled 2004 picture. Sure, it's hilarious seeing Bernal in outrageous full drag, lip syncing that luxuriously painted mouth of his to a sultry ballad in a seedy bar as Ángel's alter ego 'Zahara'. The quirky banter shot back and forth between him and his close friend Paquito (played by Javier Cámara; 'Lucía y el sexo' (2001)) truly is delightfully off beat and funny. Yes, Cacho does an eerily convincing job as the lustfully tortured Padre preying upon that ten year-old Ignacio with thunderous ambivalence throughout his entire series of flashbacks. And, yes. It's heavily submerged in The Lifestyle, with adult gay sex somewhat tastefully depicted along the same lines as seen in 'A Home at the End of the World' (2004). As scandalously provocative as the subject matter obviously is, though, what 'La Mala Educación' (its actual title) is really about is these characters' reactions and residual emotions connected to their past. Unflinching. How they individually act upon that. This hundred and nine-minute triumph deftly examines what that manuscript means to each of them as adults, in clearly different and oftentimes malevolent ways. Wrapped around the mystery of Rodriguez's rather chequered life. Making these people seem real enough on their own terms for a paying audience to easily remain intrigued with what could and does transpire. Is this Ignacio really who he tells Enrique he is? If not, why this elaborate charade? If not, where's the real Ignacio? Without ruining the plot twist that emerges, this entire cast delivers an astounding array of versatility well worth the price of admission. 'Bad Education' most probably won't be everyone's cup of tea, but if you're in any way a fan of Almodóvar and have no problem with Gay Cinema, this movie is definitely an enjoyably powerful and comedic benchmark for big screen aficionados.

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Beyond the Sea
REVIEWED 01/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

With his pockets full of dreams and his eyes filled with stars, young Walden Robert Cassotto (Kevin Spacey; 'American Beauty (1999), 'The Life of David Gale' (2003)) shuffles across the Brooklyn Bridge from his childhood Bronx home into the heart of the Big Apple with one burning desire: He was going to be the biggest, most famous entertainer that the nation had ever seen. A one-man tornado of raw talent and boundless energy who would catapult into stratospheric celebrity with his boppin' song Splish Splash (1958) and the catchy Dream Lover (1959), as well as his cover of Louis Armstrong's sanitized moritat Mack the Knife from Kurt Weill's and Bertolt Brecht's Threepenny Opera in 1959. And then, go on to wrap the world around his little finger by co-starring in a total of thirteen motion pictures with some of Hollywood's finest on the silver screen, resulting in his Oscar nomination as Best Actor in a Supporting Role for 'Captain Newman, M.D.' (1963) opposite Tony Curtis. Of course, that's not exactly how it happened. The path to success wasn't so short and rosy. However, as Walden - now completely transformed under the stage name Bobby Darin - explains to the eleven year-old actor (Curtis Victor) cast to portray Cassotto's formative years in this movie about his life within this movie of a meteoric life, "Kid, memories are like moonbeams. You can make them what ever you want," he winks. By the time four-time gold record artist and debuting film star Bobby met sixteen year-old actress Alexandria 'Sandra Dee' Zuck (Kate Bosworth; 'Blue Crush' (2002), 'Win a Date with Tad Hamilton!' (2004)) on the Rome set of 'Come September' in 1960, he was twenty-four and already a burgeoning legend. It wasn't enough. Darin and wife Dee would continue to be swept up in his unstoppable momentum. With Bobby relentlessly haunted by the burden of a weakened heart from boyhood rheumatic fever steadily worsening from the stress of countless night club and television performances, and spurred on regardless of that by his tenacious, ultimately self-destructive hunger for overwhelming success.

Reportedly in the works as co-writer/actor/director Spacey's pet project for the past seventeen years - and yet, feeling somewhat inspired by the 1998 PBS documentary 'Bobby Darin: Beyond the Song' - this fairly disjointed musical/dramatic experiment clicks out as more a slightly livelier close cousin to the disastrously boring Cole Porter homage 'De-Lovely' (2004) than to the Oscar nominated biopic 'Ray' (2004). It's a shame, really. Bobby Darin (1936-1973) obviously was a true force of nature in his time, giving us many memorable songs as a truly charismatic entertainer and winning several prestigious awards while still quite young. What 'Beyond the Sea' does, unfortunately, is tritely recreate his life as the pretense - or moonbeam - merely embellished upon as a backdrop for Spacey's own showmanship. To the point where it becomes more about that than about the real life character he's vaguely wrapped himself in. As though Spacey fell in love with finding a role where larger than life singing and dancing and maybe a little actual acting were key, and then tried to cobble together a story around that - without letting minor, unimportant things such as insightful character development, captivating dialogue, or a finely tuned story get in the way of all of the singing and the dancing stuff. Where's Darin's time as one of the famed Brin Building's many struggling New York songwriters, or his time with legendary comedian George Burns (1896-1996)? Where's his close longtime friendship with television's American Bandstand host Dick Clark? Not here. Sure, it's great to see the contagious intensity of 1950's Hollywood musicals revived here with such incredible attention to detail and pacing that you can't help but expect to see a young Gene Kelly or Donald O'Connor suddenly jump in. If Spacey's and co-writer Lewis Colick's ('Ladder 49' (2004), 'Ghosts of Mississippi' (1996)) screenplay had simply focused on and fleshed out that specific aspect, this offering probably would have been a far superior screening. As it stands, 'Beyond the Sea' tries to be something more than it needs to be by attempting to cover way too much history, without really telling or showing a paying audience much of anything that's particularly fresh or worthwhile beyond the songs and razzle dazzle. The star-studded supporting cast seems to be of little importance, other than as a collection of human props tossing out lines for Spacey to play off of between sets. I have the sneaking suspicion that the only reason this disappointing cinematic hodge podge exists is to fertilize the ground for Kevin Spacey's karaoke career to blossom from...

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Boogeyman
REVIEWED 02/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

"When you're afraid," magazine associate editor Tim Jenson (Barry Watson; 'Sorority Boys' (2002), 'Deluxe Combo Platter' (2004)) tells Franny (Skye McCole Bartusiak), the scared little girl he finds hiding in the decrepit tool shed of his broken down childhood house, "try counting to five. It sometimes works for me." She doesn't believe him. Tim's already lied to her, blowing off the horrifying rumours of him witnessing the brutal disappearance of his father (Charles Measure) that has left Tim incurably traumatized for the past fifteen years as nothing more than an eight year-old's embellished nightmare. She knows the truth, though. Her knapsack packed with missing children notices shows proof that anybody who doesn't believe in what Tim saw as a small boy, wide-eyed and petrified with terror under his covers while evil pounded from the shadows of his bedroom closet that fateful night, is wrong. The Boogeyman is real. The fact that Tim is still deathly afraid of doors, replacing all of them on the cabinets and fridge with clear glass in his city studio apartment, shows that he still believes what he saw was real. That long Thanksgiving weekend was supposed to be a happy time, with Jenson taking the relaxing drive in the country in his trusty Mustang Thunderbird to enjoy a meal with his loving girlfriend Jessica's (Tory Mussett; 'The Matrix Reloaded' (2003)) family. However, the sudden death and quick funeral of his estranged mother unavoidably brought Tim back to the old house. To that crooked front porch and through that weather beaten, stained glass front door of his childhood. Into that dim and chilled wooden hallway, and up those narrow creaking stairs, to the place where his life changed forever. Into this den of horrors. Where the Boogeyman silently haunts, waiting to murderously complete their unfinished business.

Wow. Not to be confused with the same-titled 1980 horror flick that spawned a couple of sequels, or the 1982 film, 'The Boogeyman', based on frightmeister novelist Stephen King's compilation Night Shift (1976) short story, this extremely impressive scare fest from director Stephen T. Kay ('Get Carter' (2000)) is an absolutely incredible shocker. Eric Kripke's screenplay deftly clicks along without missing a beat, as Watson is violently plunged kicking and screaming into this systematically bizarre nightmare that turns more frantic and insane as the story progresses. Wonderfully relentless. Sure, you know when something bad is about to happen, but what does happen still ends up being enjoyably scary anyways. And, yes. The actual creature does seem slightly borrowed from 'A Nightmare on Elm Street' (1984) and 'Jeepers Creepers 2' (2003) in the make up department, and the plot feels similar to 'House' (1986) and 'Hellraiser' (1987), and borrowed from other recognizable clichés at times. However, Kay - along with cinematographer Bobby Bukowski and film editor John Axelrad - delivers an enormously fresh spine tingler with enough head spinning action to keep a paying audience clinging white knuckled to your theatre seat throughout. Watson pulls in an awesome performance while carrying the lion's share of this eighty-six minute screamer, easily conveying a believable sense of dread and instability as his character's choices are slowly whittled away until he's left with no alternative but to face evil incarnate head on. In one scene, where Tim's intense phobia overwhelms him in a suddenly locked walk-in closet, everything including the most mundane items become a menace that immediately grabs you while he flails around in sheer panic. Good stuff. The supporting cast, which also includes Emily Deschanel ('Cold Mountain' (2003), 'The Alamo' (2004)) as Tim's old girlfriend Katie, and an unrecognizable Lucy Lawless ('The Rainbow Warrior' (1992), 'EuroTrip' (2004)) as his mother, also do a fine job over-all with the brief amount of dialogue that they're given. Basically, 'Boogeyman' doesn't attempt to be high drama or insightfully inspired, but it is a memorably fun and extremely well-crafted romp that meticulously digs its way under your quaking skin and stays there for a while. Definitely check out this incredibly creepy offering packed with loads of adrenaline thumping action well worth the price of a matinee ticket or as a stormy night rental.

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Black
REVIEWED 02/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

The tall, dark stranger was unwelcoming at first. Appearing at the ornate study door of the McNally's luxurious sprawling country mansion, in his rough overcoat and woolen cap stained by a fog of alcohol and cigarettes, his presence scared her as an unknown force entering her young uncertain childhood. Struck deaf and blind by an illness at the delicate age of two, forty year-old Michelle (Rani Mukherjee; 'Chalte Chalte' (2003)) still now recalls the first time that her small hand carefully traced the ragged contours of this strange man's unshaven face on that fateful day in 1932. How this spirited yet bitterly broken, recently fired thirty-year veteran teacher of sightless children reached out through the darkness and slowly, patiently lifted the veil from her deadened young mind. This strange magician, named Debraj Sahai (Amitabh Bachchan; 'Hum' (1991), 'Veer-Zaara' (2004)). Of course, her parents immediately regretted hiring him. Michelle's stoic father Paul (Dhritiman Chatterjee; 'Holy Smoke' (1999)) served Sahai's notice along with a train ticket home mere hours after witnessing his unorthodox, tough love handling of that wildly unmanageable eight year-old menace. Her life could have easily taken the short path to institutionalized obscurity in a mental ward, if her loving mother Catherine (Shernaz Patel) hadn't nervously bended to Debraj's charismatic insistence on staying to work with Michelle during Paul's three-week business trip. Twenty days of tortured agony for Catherine, kept at a measured distance while her home was turned inside out so that Michelle would become completely reliant on her masterful new teacher. Watching, as he repeatedly growled and wrestled each word at her struggling daughter in the hopes that somehow, in some way, a light might pierce the suffocating blackness before her husband's return. Now, on a chilled wintry day within harshly sterile hospital walls that her beloved teacher had fought for so long to keep her from, University educated Michelle remembers her accomplishments as she faces her most difficult challenge in attempting to rescue Sahai from the dark ravages of Alzheimer's Disease.

Wow. Clearly taking a page from the extraordinary life of famed, deaf and blind American author and activist Helen Keller (1880-1968), and feeling a lot like Indian Cinema's homage to the Oscar-winning 'The Miracle Worker' (1962) throughout, this extremely impressive offering from awards lauded co-writer/director Sanjay Leela Bhansali ('Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999), 'Devdas' (2002)) is a tremendously mesmerizing triumph. Bachchan is an absolute tour de force here, flexing his considerable acting chops while furiously eating up each scene with delightfully larger than life thunder and fire. Frankly, such a superior dramatic screenplay from Bollywood is a long time in coming and it's only right that East Asian film legend Bachchan should lead the way. However, Mukherjee deftly shares the spotlight in her carefully presented, powerful role that easily captivates and holds a paying audience's attention throughout this subtitled, non-musical hundred and twenty-two minute movie. Amazing. While co-writers Bhavani Iyer's and Prakash Kapadia's script does heavily rely on copious flashbacks taking up the majority of screen time, what makes this wonderfully fresh picture such a marvel is that these characters are fully developed and are given extremely intelligent dialogue to work with. Every step along the way, you can't help but believe that this cast is being chewed up by the tribulations that their characters are dealing with. At the same time, veteran cinematographer Ravi K. Chandran's incomparably inspired lens truly captures the dizzying momentum that carries this big screen treasure along. Gorgeous. Sure, some of the odd religious references and a few slightly affected purple (and blue) prose do present strange hiccups to the mix, but they're easily forgivable and quickly forgotten as 'Black' clicks out at a steady, gob smacking pace over-all. Awesome.

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Because of Winn-Dixie
REVIEWED 02/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

India Opal Buloni (Annasophia Robb) just wants a friend. Recently uprooted from Watley to the small rural community of Naomi, Florida, this bright yet lonely ten year-old girl has moved around the country with her Baptist Preacher father (Jeff Daniels; 'Pleasantville' (1998), 'Blood Work' (2002)) ever since her mother left them seven years ago. Regularly dwelling on that vacant part of her during quiet moments of self doubt. Trying to imagine a time when she was a whole person, Opal's active imagination clings to and embellishes upon the things that her loving, silently tortured father has told her. Her solitary days are also filled with drawing pictures under a big shady oak, riding her chrome fendered bicycle around this sleepy town, and, through a strange coincidence, suddenly spending a lot of her time with a strangely smiling but shaggy and stinky, ownerless mongrel that Opal has named Winn-Dixie - after the local super market where they first unofficially adopted each other. Because of Winn-Dixie, Buloni's sheltered existence slowly begins to change for the better. Her relationship with the Preacher grows a little more, and she ends up meeting interesting people who would have normally remained unnoticed strangers on those dusty streets. For instance: Otis (musician Dave Matthews), the shy ex-con temporarily running Gertrude's Pets, who quietly plays his acoustic guitar to that shop's menagerie of birds and baby animals after hours. Opal talks herself into a part time job there. She also meets aged spinster Miss Franny Block (Eva Marie Saint; 'On the Waterfront' (1954), 'I Dreamed of Africa' (2000)), great grand daughter of enigmatic candy tycoon Litmus W. Block and sole proprietor of Naomi's home-based Memorial Library, who spins the best stories and lets this friendly little blonde girl borrow books to read to the reclusive, wise old blind lady Gloria Dump (Cicely Tyson; 'Sounder' (1972), 'Hoodlum' (1997)) on an overgrown, sun drenched wooden porch beyond where the pavement turns to gravel and tall weeds. However, Winn-Dixie also ends up being a problem for the Buloni's. They can't keep him. So, as thunderstorm season continues to rumble overhead, the sad realities of life threaten to unravel Opal's happy summer.

This wonderfully unassuming children's film truly is a gem. Closely based on American writer Kate DiCamillo's first and Newbery Honor winning 2000 novel for nine to twelve-aged readers, with its influential canine character named after the actual ninety year-old, 920-store food chain renamed Winn-Dixie in 1955 that's currently reorganizing under a Chapter 11 petition, director Wayne Wang's ('The Joy Luck Club' (1993), 'Maid in Manhattan' (2002)) offering deftly captures that melancholy stage in a pre-pubescent's life between pure childish innocence and adolescent awareness of an unfairly harsh adult world. Pretty well all of these characters are in some way flawed and emotionally bruised, and yet are still open to hope, tenderness and forgiveness throughout. That's essentially what makes this hundred and six-minute cinematic charmer so incredibly captivating. It's realistic and humourous enough to keep a paying audience of parents and kids from feeling bored or pandered to, while Joan Singleton's intelligent screenplay aptly defines each role on the big screen. Robb is clearly a natural, marvelously punctuating her impressive first-time performance with astounding range and refreshingly unaffected facial expressions. Good stuff. Daniels, and Hollywood Walk of Famers Saint and Tyson, individually support the story with often times fascinating poise and delicacy rarely seen in this genre. The gritty, imagination sequences citing a book-reading bear and a car grown from a tire are also worth the price of admission. They're fun, while also subsequently illustrating Opal's shift in maturity. Sure, there are a couple of moments where 'Because of Winn-Dixie' does feel like a contemporary cousin of the litany of 'Lassie Come Home' (1943) sequels and remakes, featuring bouts of one-sided conversations with a dog that drags its young human pet through this or that soft adventure. Thankfully, that plot element isn't particularly heavy handed or cheesy here. Definitely do yourself a huge favour and discover this delightfully touching heart warmer as a memorably worthwhile and thoroughly enjoyable family film.

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Bride & Prejudice
REVIEWED 02/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Word has already spread like wildfire that rich and handsome Mr. Bingley has arrived with dashing young Mr. Darcy in tow, and Mrs. Bennett - uh, I mean Mrs. Bakshi (Nadira Babbar) - is eager to have them both quickly choose and marry one of her lovely daughters, before business sends these two very eligible bachelors from Netherfield... um, Amritsar, India, that is. Second eldest is Lalita Bakshi (Aishwarya Rai; 'Devdas' (2002), 'Kyun! Ho Gaya Na...' (2004)), a free-spirited and extremely strong minded woman who knows that her older sister Jaya's (Namrata Shirodkar) betrothal to her wealthy, returning love Balraj Bingley (Naveen Andrews; 'The English Patient' (1996), 'Rollerball' (2002)) is a foregone conclusion. She's obviously next in line to have her hands and feet ornately painted with henna for her own blissfully sacred matrimonial ceremony. However, after meeting Balraj's American friend Will Darcy (Martin Henderson; 'The Ring' (2002), 'Torque' (2004)) at a traditional wedding reception, there's absolutely no way that she could ever submit or pander to Darcy's overtly patronizing manner and elitist arrogance as his wife. Even after he attempts to make a better second impression when they meet again on a trip to nearby Goa for a day of sightseeing and festivities, Lalita remains unmoved - going so far as to befriend Brit tourist Johnny Wickam (Winnipeg's Daniel Gillies; 'Spider-Man 2: The IMAX Experience' (2004)), Will's former childhood playmate turned mistrusted enemy, who she coyly chats with on the beach under a sultry ocean moon in plain sight of Darcy. Frustrated with these shenanigans threatening to derail her dreams of vast fortune and copious grandchildren, Mrs. Bakshi reacts by arranging for wife-seeking, ex-patriot Cousin Kholi (Nitin Chandra Ganatra; 'Truly Madly Deeply' (1991), 'Pure' (2002)) to stay with her family at their modest Punjab villa during his short vacation home from his successful franchise business and $850,000 Colonial-style suburban Los Angeles house and hot tub bath fitted with super jets. He's a goof, but he's also a worthy prospect if any of the girls play their cards right. However, everything turns sour when Bingley suddenly leaves for the UK without proposing to Jaya, and Wickam appears at Lalita's doorstep before Darcy can set the record straight with her. Leading to further confusion, when the Bakshi's later head to Britain for another wedding on the same ten-hour flight that Will is coincidentally on...

Frankly, I was fairly disappointed with how this anticipated romantic comedy starts out more like a glib Hollywood regurgitated pastiche of Brit-influenced Indian Cinema than a true Bollywood adaptation of famed English writer Jane Austen's (1775-1817) acclaimed novel Pride and Prejudice (1813). A kind of 'Bridget Jones' Diary' (2001) remake wrapped in vibrantly dyed silk, with a far less socially awkward leading female role, co-writer/director Gurinder Chadha's ('Bhaji on the Beach' (1993), 'Bend It Like Beckham' (2002)) heavily hyped English language offering feels artificially sweetened and shamefully self-effacing throughout the first quarter of this hundred and eleven-minute screening. Despite most of the supporting players and extras continually acting like human cartoons, once this cast and crew thankfully give their heads a collective shake and the curious cinematic culture mocking finally subsides, 'Bride & Prejudice' turns into a reasonably enjoyable love story punctuated by somewhat thoughtful dialogue tinged with wry and playful wit. Don't get me wrong. It's wonderful that a mainstream movie starring one of India's biggest contemporary stars has garnered much attention and an impressive theatrical distribution throughout North America. This one's definitely not a reliable taste of Eastern film currently being released, but it's probably more easily digestible for its intended wider audience of unfamiliar moviegoers who still enjoy musicals. However, unlike the similarly themed 'Touch of Pink' (2003), as well as the subtitled, tuneful Hindi effort 'Swades' (2004), the vague sub text of racial assumptions is pure pretense regularly sidestepped in favour of fluffy nods to Austen's original literary classic and a need for strange bursts of shallow entertainment value - such as Ashanti's weird bump and grind cameo - here. Chadha's and Paul Mayeda Berges' screenplay seems more related to 'The Guru' (2003) at times, but not as irreverently mature. Ironically enough, about the only truly clever aspect of this chick flick is the soundtrack, where decidedly obvious musical influences such as the boppin' Fifties - reminiscent of 'Grease' (1978) - and melodic Rogers and Hammerstein-like stylings are interspersed with Bhangra to set the tone of each new sequence of events. Check it out as a moderately fun rental that takes a while to shake off the annoying self-deprecating novelty before surprising you with an actual, worthwhile spotlight for Rai's mesmerizing natural screen presence.

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Bewafaa
REVIEWED 03/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

As naive twenty-one year-old Canadian Anjali (Kareena Kapoor; 'Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham...' (2001), 'Chameli' (2004)) bids farewell to the security and freedom of her loving ex-patriot East Indian father (Kabir Bedi; 'Octopussy' (1983), 'Kismat' (2004)) and his doting wife, the sudden death during childbirth of her older sister Aarti (Sushmita Sen; 'Biwi No. 1' (1999), 'Main Hoon Na' (2004)) while visiting to deliver her twin baby girls still haunts her. Anjali loved and admired her so much. The joy that filled her young heart at the mere thought of her beautiful, successfully married sibling has now been replaced with silent brittle agony at her loss. Making her decision to leave behind her own girlish desires, her adoring boyfriend Raja (Akshay Kumar; 'Ajnabee' (2001), 'Mujhse Shaadi Karogi' (2004)), and her parents' suburban Montréal home that much easier. To see her indefinite stay with Aarti's mourning millionaire husband Aditya (Anil Kapoor; 'Virasat' (1997), 'Pukar' (2000)) as a chance to heal her grief by doing the right thing in raising these motherless daughters in their faraway New Delhi mansion. To be the best surrogate mother and wife that she can possibly be; purposely changing her mannerisms and her clothes and her long brown hair to match Aarti's as closely as humanly possible, for the sake of rebuilding a happy, stable home under the bleak shadow of emotionally distant, workaholic Aditya. She would endure years of this, with only these two growing healthy girls full of smiles and hugs to keep her going through the long hours of endless solitude. Anjali would be kind and courteous to a fault - even when faced with being jokingly chided and mocked by Aditya's wildly gregarious friend Dil (Manoj Bajpai; 'Veer-Zaara' (2004)) and his equally scandalous wife Pallavi (Shamita Shetty) - because that's what she believed she was destined to do for the rest of her days. And, then it happened. Reaching international fame as a popular singer/musician now on a worldwide concert tour, Raja appears in India. Begging at first sight to rekindle the old flames of their youthful passion with her. He has never forgotten her, or how her leaving him without saying good-bye completely destroyed him all those years ago. Turning his fond memories of Anjali into his own private, agonizingly untouchable muse for his talent to grow and flourish across the globe. He needs her. Desperate to hold her in his strong, tanned arms and to caress her lovely face once more. Much to the gossip mongering amusement of Pallavi, who quickly realizes that her husband's best friend's informal wife from Canada has been secretly meeting with this Pop idol and might be planning to disappear with him once his much anticipated show is over...

Feeling a lot like two decidedly different romantic dramas - one exasperatingly familiar, amateurish Canadian turkey and one comparably superior, wonderfully captivating Hindi feature - stitched together as a kind of cross-cultural, transcontinental offering, writer/director Dharmesh Darshan's ('Raja Hindustani' (1996), 'Dhadkan' (2000)) efforts don't really blossom to compelling fruition until a little over halfway through this three-hour subtitled saga. Sure, it's fun seeing location shots of Montréal uncharacteristically awash in red maple leaf flags as Kareena Kapoor and Akshay Kumar work at joyfully establishing their characters' doomed sizzling romance throughout the first hour of surprisingly shoddy camerawork. Both of these capable actors do an exceptionally impressive job wonderfully fleshing out their roles when the story finally progresses abroad, particularly considering that Darshan's script seems initially sketchy and drawn out, and the fact that they share time with the natural allure of Miss Universe 1994 Sen and the slightly intimidating presence of Bedi. However, Bajpai's deliciously wry, scene stealing performance truly pushes this feature above and beyond what's expected at the outset. He and Shetty are undeniably the friends who rival most enemies, perniciously toying with these lovers' frayed emotions as the antagonistic couple a paying audience can't help but love to hate while laughing along with them. Awesome. Furthermore, award-winning veteran Bollywood composer Nadeem Shravan's soundtrack deftly electrifies this movie with an almost perfect series of enormously contagious songs that will likely stay with you long after the slightly clumsy ending. Anil Kapoor's role is about the only consistently weak element, undeservedly kept dull and inaccessible - even when he's clearly loosened up - making it tough to empathize with his tortured plight. All tolled, 'Bewafaa' isn't a masterpiece and is somewhat of an endurance test for you to comfortably sit through the first reel. It does unnecessarily teeter on that grey line between being good or terribly mediocre by suffering from apparently unsure pacing and a disproportionately weird glut of distracting editing and camera pans throughout, but it does contain a handful of truly memorable and powerful scenes that save it from total disaster. Check out this second choice rental if you're a fan of Bollywood movies, but you'll probably want to fast forward through the first half in order to get to the thoroughly enjoyable meaty substance that likely should have been the only ninety minutes or so to actually comprise the final cut.

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Be Cool
REVIEWED 03/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

"It would make a good opening," smiled the otherwise well-groomed LAPD homicide detective. Tommy Athens' (James Woods; 'Against All Odds' (1984), 'Northfork' (2003)) crumpled and bullet punctured corpse slowly cooled in a sun drenched bed of scattered glass shards and stuccoed wood splinters brutally pecked from the Rehab Village Café's storefront patio where he and long time crony Chili Palmer (John Travolta; 'The General's Daughter' (1999), 'Ladder 49' (2004)) had just been sitting. Ten iced teas had sent Palmer to the Men's, saving him from the same deadly fate that had punched into Athens from the smoking barrel of Russian mobster Roman Bulkin's (Alex Kubik) .45 in broad daylight. Moments earlier, before the mortal consequences of NTL music studio co-owner Tommy foiling Roman's business protection racket had suddenly left Chili with one less friend, these two underworld heavies gone legit in LA had been talking about a new movie idea starring Tommy's young girlfriend and singer/songwriter hopeful Linda Moon (Christina Milian; 'Love Don't Cost a Thing' (2003), 'Man of the House' (2005)). Palmer, already sick of being a film producer and considering returning to his old life after his sequel 'Get Lost' bombed, was intrigued by Athens' hard sell of a kind of feel good, Cinderella popcorn flick. It might also make an easy leap for him, from producing motion pictures to producing recording artists. Enter Edie Athens (Uma Thurman; 'Pulp Fiction' (1994), 'Kill Bill: Vol. 2' (2004)). Tommy's vaguely mourning widow and now sole proprietor of NTL, Edie agrees to let Moon audition for her shortly after Palmer unceremoniously commandeers the role of manager from Linda's less than capable handler, Carrosell Studios' right hand man Roger 'Raji' Lowenthal (Vince Vaughn; 'Psycho' (1998), 'Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story' (2004)) and hulking bodyguard slash wannabe actor Elliot Wilhelm (Dwayne Douglas 'The Rock' Johnson; 'The Scorpion King' (2002), 'Walking Tall' (2004)). However, it seems that Tommy left a surprise for Edie in the form of a hefty debt to Gangsta Rap legend Sin LaSalle (Cedric the Entertainer; 'Serving Sara' (2002), 'Barbershop 2: Back in Business' (2004)), threatening to bankrupt NTL and quickly putting Chili squarely in LaSalle's bad books when his immediate payment demands are stalled. Raji's boss Nick Carr (Harvey Keitel; 'Bad Lieutenant' (1992), 'National Treasure' (2004)) isn't too happy with Palmer either, hiring psychotic hit man Joe 'Loop' Lupino (Robert Pastorelli (1954-2004); 'Michael' (1996), 'Bait' (2000)) to off Moon's smooth new manager. And then there's Balkin, who has unfinished killing to do in the form of maliciously delivering a bullet with Chili's name on it...

Based on acclaimed pulp novelist Elmore Leonard's 1999 book, director F. Gary Gray's ('The Negotiator' (1998), 'The Italian Job' (2003)) oftentimes excruciatingly self-referential sequel to Golden Globe-winning 'Get Shorty' (1995) clicks out more like a weekend amateur home movie shot by a group of celebrity friends just kicking around on a Hollywood set for laughs, than a particularly worthwhile big screen offering for this caliber of talent. Imagine sitting through a couple of hours of seeing Travolta, Thurman, Keitel and Vaughn lounging at a brightly lit Sunset Strip café reading out pages from the Los Angeles phonebook, and that's pretty well how important Peter Steinfeld's ('Analyze That' (2002)) screenplay is to this star studded showboat's story throughout. Sure, there is a vaguely cobbled, dreadfully meandering shorthand plot line bloated with clipped quips and trite filmic nods - reportedly much like in the novel - that give these players something to do, but 'Be Cool' is obviously more about fans setting aside their latest issue of whatever glossy entertainment magazine feeds the paparazzi market in order for them to buy a ticket and drool at these actors projected larger and glossier than life in a darkened theatre, than this pedantic and muddled film actually being about giving a paying audience notably well crafted characters to follow along with here. Simply put, it's cinephile porn. Tiring, with all of the pain and none of the pleasure. Unfortunately, and unlike the superior irreverence seen in the Rat Pack-like sequel 'Ocean's Twelve' (2004), this boring collective sleep walk barely offers enough captivating charismatic presence to colour the corner of a damp paper towel. Clocking in at a hundred and fourteen-minutes, it's a teeth grating snooze fest that's merely more of what you've likely already seen from the ads. Nothing else. And, hardly embellished enough in the macabre or wry or downright silly laughs department to save it from obscurity. Sure, switch off your brain and let the pretty colours and over long musical moments wash over you, and you're bound to get at least half your money's worth of insider water cooler banter for the next day at work, but why bother? Do you really care about a pairing, dance sequence and ten year-old kiss carried over from 'Pulp Fiction'? Do you honestly need to see The Rock cartoonify his supporting Gay role? If so, hey, it's your time and cash. Watching the local club district through street mounted web cams with friends at a late Friday night house party somehow seems far more preferable.

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Born into Brothels
REVIEWED 03/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

In 1998, London-born photojournalist Zana Briski was reportedly allowed to begin living with the prostitutes who exist within the crumbling squalor of Calcutta's notorious Red Light District. She had planned to compile an essay, inspired by her freelance investigative reporting of that region's female infanticide and child marriages made three years earlier. Discovering a crime riddled world shrouded in shame and brutal poverty, Briski slowly earned these women's trust and began taking amateur footage of their lives and those of their young unschooled children who played amongst the sheer denigration of their allotted place in India's society. Bright little boys, such as Manik, Avijit and Pour, teetering on the cusp of harsh street reputations as thugs and thieves destined for prison or murder. Smart little girls, like Shanti, Kochi and Suchitra, forced into long hours tending their working mothers' domestic needs while nervously awaiting their foregone place as the newest, young additions to that disparaging queue plying their bodies for money. 'Born into Brothels: Calcutta's Red Light Kids' (its full title) was born from this realization, documenting Briski's efforts to arm these forgotten urchins turned photography students with point and shoot cameras, towards giving them some semblance of a hopeful future. Encouraging them to photograph whatever caught their eye, training them to carefully load film, critique their subject matter, and to perfect their compositions through regular classes that she volunteered. Her plan for them apparently evolved over time, but with the help of the international organization Kids With Cameras and growing attention from the local media, their vibrant snap shots from the poorest gutter would eventually be auctioned off at Sotheby's in Manhattan. The money raised from that, combined with funds from a 2002 calendar of their prints published by Amnesty International, being earmarked to finance putting as many of these kids as possible into boarding schools and safe from their parents' dire legacy.

This Oscar-winning, partially subtitled 2004 documentary truly is an exceptional film. Not because of the sex trade subject matter, but because of how co-directors Briski and Ross Kauffman primarily remain focused on the kids. Deftly capturing their individual characteristics, childish foibles and confided fears as some of them tell their own stories with unflinching candor, while viewers are presented with the larger, extremely fascinating story of Briski personally attempting - sometimes fighting - to make a positive difference in their lives. A paying audience can't help but grieve in silent empathy for precocious eight year-old Shanti, saved from being sold/wed only to endure relentless hardship while slaving away under appalling conditions and continual abuse. The same holds true as you're introduced to girlish Suchitra, 14, the eldest and most painfully shy of this bunch, as a boarding school matron strictly conforms to laws that restrict the children of criminals from being accepted or given the chance to join as pupils in classroom lessons. Moviegoers' normally jaded hearts easily go out to Avijit, a clearly talented watercolour artist still in his formative years, bursting with smiles and wide eyed enthusiasm and yet oppressed by lasting complacency at the prospect of what probably lays ahead for him. Sure, you've seen it before on television commercials citing legions of Third World children imprisoned to hopeless impoverishment as their only birthright. However, 'Born into Brothels' demonstrates tangible results from this Brit's conviction. Showing what creating simple opportunities can do, it intelligently informs while remaining entertaining throughout. Building upon that premise as this eighty-five minuter follows each new success and dilemma when they arise, giving you a true sense of the odds standing against everyone involved, tinged by a cruel reality where what does happen doesn't necessarily turn out for the best in the long run for some of them. Keeping in mind that Briski actually hasn't abandoned these kids afterwards and continues to teach and help them and their peers, a full colour, hundred and twenty-paged companion book to this absolutely inspiring feature is apparently still available at http://kids-with-cameras.org/bornintobrothels/book.php. Definitely do yourself a huge favour by checking out this incredible, R-rated documentary that's absolutely well worth the price of admission and lasting attention. Awesome.

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Beauty Shop
REVIEWED 03/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

New beginnings and a fresh start are what Chicago-born single mom and talented hair stylist Gina Norris (Queen Latifah; 'Chicago' (2002), 'Barbershop 2: Back in Business' (2004)) hopes to find, after moving to Atlanta so that her musically gifted young daughter Vanessa (Paige Hurd) can attend that city's prestigious School of Performing Arts. However, all of Gina's hopes and dreams seem threatened almost before they get a chance to take root. First, her obnoxious Euro Trash boss Jörge Christophe (Kevin Bacon; 'Apollo 13' (1995), 'Mystic River' (2003)) heaps so much catty grief on her for being a strong-willed woman who knows she's great at her job, that she quits his popular upscale salon in angered frustration. Next, just as Norris quickly finds and cleverly secures a small business loan to buy and refurbish retired Miss Angelina's poorly maintained thirty year-old beauty parlour as her own, a couple of her new employees jump ship and the rest of her staff cool to whitebread friend and former Christophe shampoo girl Lynn (Alicia Silverstone; 'Batman & Robin' (1997), 'Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed' (2004)) setting up her own chair. And then, there's State Board Inspector Crawford, always in the right place at the wrong time, writing up increasingly expensive fines as though he's got nothing better to do. Sure, the shop is still an organic work in progress that needs some major electrical work done and a lot more paying clients to come through the door if Gina plans to stay in business for the long run, but a thorough repair will cost thousands of dollars - according to tall and hunky Joe the electrician (Djimon Hounsou; 'Gladiator' (2000), 'Constantine' (2005)) who lives upstairs - and her famous special homemade softening conditioner nicknamed 'Hair Crack' can only pull so many of her loyal, hair savvy regulars away from Jörge's sparkling chrome and glass establishment. The bills are piling up, and she needs a miracle. Fast. Enter Willie (Lil' JJ), a precocious and awkwardly charming street kid who's been biking around town surreptiously shooting sidewalk auditions of non-auditioning ladies' backsides for his up and coming world class, soon to maybe at some point possibly hit stratospheric international stardom, award winning Rap music video. It's not too clear if he can actually rhyme or keep a beat, but there's something he's unwittingly captured on his videotape that just might come in handy for Gina, the next time Crawford comes snooping around...

Feeling a lot like a big screen television pilot, this loosely cobbled chick flick spinoff from the comparably better, men's hair stylist sequel 'Barbershop 2: Back in Business' does afford Latifah a wider range and depth of character than has been seen in her previous cinematic personas. Frankly, she shines here, portraying a funny, compelling, fragile, and personably believable enough protagonist following her solely enjoyable arc development of soft turmoils and triumphs. However, this welcome surprise is likely due in large part to the fact that most of the supporting characters and cameo walk ons are played as woefully phoney, live action cartoon stereotypes busily hamming contrived and badly crafted lines for the camera for the most part. It's tremendously puzzling why director Bille Woodruff ('Honey' (2003)) allows them to drag down or completely stall this picture's light hearted momentum at key points with awkwardly long bouts of fumbled potential exacerbated by a glut of amateurish scene stealing and additionally silly facial contortions. This is funny? Uh, no. It's a whole lotta noisy boring goofing around, but it's not funny. Hounsou's intensely underplayed natural presence is about the only other noteable exception worth a paying audience's attention, with Bryce Wilson ('Hair Show' (2004)) as James the lone male hair stylist barely managing to make the best of what Kate Lanier's and Norman Vance Jr.'s unfinished, estrogen overdosed screenplay throws his way. Stringy-haired Bacon, and Silverstone - at one point sporting a drastic gelled tease punctuated by what looks like a cinnamon bun mashed into her scalp - look desperately bored as (unfortunately) the obvious token celebrity caucasians trapped behind goofy accents here, chewing out their stunted dialogue with noticeable embarassment at being cast in wastrel roles that one might expect burgeoning drama school grads to normally be tapped for. 'Beauty Shop' does contain the pencil markings of an impressive story at its core, with one or two humourously endearing moments from Latifah and Hounsou together, but these fun yet vaguely embellished nuggets are so terribly side lined by relentlessly pedantic and lazy dead end shtick that this ninety-eight minute feature seems hardly worth the price of admission. Unless you're a huge fan of these two promising starring talents, you're likely better off discovering this one while channel surfing through TV reruns in a month.

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The Boys & Girl from County Clare
REVIEWED 05/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Liverpool, England really isn't much of a distance from County Clare, Ireland, but Jimmy's (Colm Meaney) countryside birthplace on that Emerald Isle may as well be half a world away and a lifetime long since passed. Sure, he has his cherished Celtic music and his prized fiddle to play them - both known to him since the day he was born. These things are his, whatever conquests and successes have come his way over the years in this small port town that's more renowned for giving the world The Beatles than for him keeping the flame of traditional jigs alive for a new generation of young Brits in these rollicking 1960's. Nevertheless, Jimmy has done it. Cobbling together the best local players that he can find to form his Liverpool Shamrock Ceilidh Band, Jimmy's dream has come true. Almost. There's one challenge left that remains to be conquered, and he's not about to let a twenty-two year-old feud with his older brother John Joe (Bernard Hill) scare him off. See, John Joe has never left County Clare, keeping on the old family cottage by the rolling blue sea, and known to all whenever he makes his way into town for a pint and a sit down with his own flute and fiddle clan. His boys - along with talented young Anne (Andrea Jane Corr) playing at John Joe's side as though she was his own flesh and blood - are undisputed champions, easily taking home the All-Ireland Traditional Music Competition's first prize trophy last year, secure in their intentions of bringing it home from Dublin again in less than a week. Jimmy believes he deserves that trophy more than his grizzled sibling does. Now is the time. However, Jimmy's return is met with far less than an enthusiastic welcome, when Anne's unwed mother Maisie (Charlotte Bradley) hears about it and goes on the war path. John Joe isn't too pleased to see him either, considering the quiet arrangement he'd made to stop Jimmy's band from registering for the competition at all. Nothing's changed. The feud continues, as these old boys do everything they can to undermine the other before the judging can begin.

This small, ninety-minute 2003 film from longtime director John Irvin is a wonderful delight. Meaney once again proves what an absolutely incredible powerhouse of versatility he is here, easily portraying an amazing depth and breadth of emotions without skipping a beat. Jimmy is a slightly brooding smart alec with a weary heart of gold, and nobody else readily comes to mind who could better fit the role. Awesome. Going in, I actually dreaded the possibility of justifying my skepticism that this feature would be little more than a melodramatic piece of soapy cinema primarily intended to showcase Celtic Pop star Corr's acting attempts in her primary supporting part. I was wrong. Sure, there are a few scenes that slightly smack of BBC Prime Time pastiche, but writer Nicholas Adams' screenplay is definitely far more an hilariously wry comedy of errors from beginning to closing credits. Don't get me wrong, it's not campy. The humour is believable and appropriately dry for the most part. This big screen treasure had me laughing out loud more than once, and leaving the theatre afterwards with a renewed appreciation for this type of music. The other extremely fortunate aspect of this movie is that the main story and all of the sub plots are strongly realized with great dialogue and superior pacing throughout. A paying audience isn't given the chance to become bored, since good reasons are given to care about what happens to all of these thoroughly compelling characters. The build up towards finally seeing these two brothers in the same room together is marvelously rewarded, and continues to build upon that initial, richly comedic strain each and every time they bump into each other during the competition. The second best story line is definitely Anne's flirtish interaction with Liverpudlian band member Teddy (Shaun Evans; 'Being Julia' (2004)) as they coyly circle around their growing mutual attraction - much to the Banshee-like chagrin of Maisie. Brilliant. Absolutely do yourself a favour and check out this hugely entertaining gem if you get the chance.

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The Ballad of Jack & Rose
REVIEWED 05/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

The South side of Marsh Island was once home to a small commune of free-thinking families who dreamed of living off of the land without destroying the planet in the process. It was a noble experiment during their time there in the 1970's. A new Garden of Eden, cradling that collection of environmentally conscious engineers and scientists choosing to live in peace and harmony a few short miles from the East Coast of the United States. Less than sixteen years later, that dream was a weatherbeaten ghost town of ramshackle wooden cottages. Abandoned by all but its land owner Jack Slaven (Daniel Day-Lewis) and his teenaged daughter Rose (Camilla Belle). They'd made the best of it. Continuing to eat what they grow or could harvest from the sea, maintaining the windmills that afforded them the briefest of electrical conveniences, and enjoying the simple, unhurried life of reading and sharing stories and watching the cloud drift by overhead. Even after Jack's heart attack left him considerably weaker, the notion of them leaving this quiet, wooded paradise felt like an unrealistic alternative. However, it was clear to Slaven that something needed to change. His condition was worsening. Whether she wanted to talk about it or not, Rose would soon be alone in the world. So, he goes to the mainland and into town with a proposition for his secretly close friend Kathleen (Catherine Keener). She and her two adolescent boys Rodney (Ryan McDonald) and Thaddius (Paul Dano) could move in, and help with the upkeep and their growing need for human contact. Of course, Rose hates the idea, feeling betrayed that her father didn't even mention his four-month relationship before allowing this strange woman into their sanctuary. Jack calls it an experiment, so Rose perniciously decides to concoct an experiment of her own that might change is mind and make things the way they were before this unsettling intrusion...

There are times when it's humourous overhearing the opinions of fellow moviegoers leaving a screening. In this particular case, the consensus seemed to be utter confusion over Lewis' choice in performing this lead role with a Scottish accent. Frankly, I was more relieved to see that he and supporting actor Jena Malone (as Rodney's friend Red Berry) are still working, considering their ability to present fully realized characters from whatever material they're given is still as sharp as ever. Lewis - who hasn't been seen on the big screen since 'Gangs of New York' (2002) - is incredible here, giving a paying audience a complete range of emotions to thoroughly tap into and follow along with during this otherwise uneven story. Writer/director Rebecca Miller's screenplay tends to lag throughout, feeling more like an After School Special purposely contrived for a decidedly more mature crowd. That's not entirely terrible, but it doesn't help. Reportedly filmed in Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, the main problem with this hundred and twelve-minute, R-rated independent film is that the remaining actors seem disconnected from their roles. Sure, there's a slight overabundance of pedantic visual metaphor and heavy handed foreshadowing that deflates this picture's momentum. The continuity is also a little suspect at times. However, 'The Ballad of Jack & Rose' is primarily a character-driven cinematic experiment, where most of the characters really don't have much to offer in the way of encouraging you to care about what happens to them. Belle seems to sleep walk through her scenes, never able to let you get past the dull glaze of her eyes in order to understand what Rose is going through. It seems painfully obvious that Miller spent far more time developing dialogue and choice scenes for Lewis to stretch his role in different directions, to the detriment of the remaining cast members who are left relying on natural screen presence and fairly unpolished lines to justify their existence. That's where Malone, along with Keener and McDonald, truly shine here. But, it's not enough as presented in the final cut. It's a tragedy that this flick turns into a weirded out coming of age drama that curiously wrestles the spotlight away from Jack a third of the way through. Falling apart at the seams, and wasting everyone's time before the last reel ever gets a chance to lull you into a coma. Yawn.

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Batman Begins
REVIEWED 06/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

The body bag of bleak nightfall consumes Gotham City. It envelopes the rotting stench of pervasive corruption and cloaks this gutted oceanside corpse of concrete and glass in the chilled hard shadows of festering death. This is his playground. His war zone, readily adopted and spread out below him. It waits. Hoping. In desperate need of a saviour. A dark avenger. The thick cold wind rips past him, biting into Batman's face as he heaves himself from that towering skyscraper perch into this decaying abyss without hesitation. The thundering air pressure boils against his black body armour. Underneath, flesh and muscle and bone ache and strain against each pounding gust's reverberation. Adrenaline clamps his brain in a bear trap of rabid spasms. It feels good. This is his time. This is his calling, to do what others fail to do out of fear and greed and apathy. As Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale), locked in a maelstrom of torment that had sent him far from the pampered life he'd known in boyhood into the criminal underworld as a brutal thug, he was still merely a man upon his return. A man helpless against the tide of despair that cripples this metropolitan slum. A man who could be summarily murdered, just as his parents had been ruthlessly gunned down in front of his young eyes in that decrepit alley decades before. Twenty years of orphaned mourning, of studying his enemies by becoming one of them, honing his mind and body towards meting out vengeful justice, would have been wasted if he now faced them as a man. In the Far East, Bruce had learned from the merciless Ra's Al Ghul's League of Shadows under the harsh teachings of Ducard (Liam Neeson; 'Excalibur' (1981), 'Kingdom of Heaven' (2005)) that becoming more than a man was key to his survival and success. To revive his billionaire father Thomas Wayne's forgotten dream of the glimmering ideal that was once Gotham City, he needed to become a symbol. Something elemental, he confided to his long suffering butler Alfred (Michael Caine; 'The Ipcress File' (1965), 'Austin Powers in Goldmember' (2002)) on the homeward bound private jet. Something more terrible than his formidable foes have ever faced. He needed to become a beast. A legend shrouded in petrifying myth that would disarm them, just as it had done when he was a frightened eight year-old swallowed whole by his palatial manor's old well and swarmed by bats. Suddenly, the ground flashes upwards. His eyes glint and burn behind the ghoulish horned mask that hides his identity from the world. Batman's gloved hands tense, throwing a sharp electrical current into his swirling black cape, stiffening its synthetic fabric into wings that curl his free fall into a low controlled flight towards an unscheduled rendezvous with his silent ally, GCPD Detective James Gordon (Gary Oldman; 'Bram Stoker's Dracula' (1992), 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' (2004)). Renowned psychologist Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy; '28 Days Later...' (2002), 'Girl with a Pearl Earring' (2003)), nortorious director of Arkham Asylum, had gotten the better of Batman as The Scarecrow the first time they'd met, but now the Dark Knight is prepared to stop this hideously macabre fiend from endangering the water supply in a deadly plot masterminded from the shadows by a cleverly deceptive old rival bent on mass extermination.

When asked, co-writer David S. Goyer ('The Crow: City of Angels' (1996), 'Blade: Trinity' (2004)) reportedly explained that creative team Jeph Loeb's and Tim Sale's Batman graphic novels The Long Halloween (1999) and Dark Victory (2001) were major influences on his and Oscar-nominated co-writer/director Christopher Nolan's ('Memento' (2000), 'Insomnia' (2002)) script for Hollywood's long anticipated return to Gotham. So, diehard fans of the famed Caped Crusader should probably first put aside all memories of wunderkind Frank Miller's ground breaking The Dark Knight Returns (1986), and then forget about television's campy 'Batman' (1966-1968) and its big screen 1966 spin off also starring Adam West and Burt Ward, as well as wipe the slate clean of pretty well every other published and cinematic offering that's ever seeped into popular culture since writer Bill Finger's (1914-1974) and artist Bob 'Kane' Kahn's (1915-1998) The Batman first appeared in Detective Comics #27 in 1939. That's a mighty tall, near impossible task, but 'Batman Begins' apparently wants to start fresh - especially where director Tim Burton's artfully quirky 'Batman' (1989) and 'Batman Returns' (1992), and director Joel Schumacher's fairly embarrassing 'Batman Forever' (1995) and 'Batman and Robin' (1997) are concerned. That's this oftentimes exasperatingly long, hundred and forty-one minute screening's main problem. Goyer and Nolan seem to forget that it's that relatively rich history that'll likely fill more theatre seats this time around than whatever critical acclaim this project that's endured several mis-starts and rewrites over the past handful of years gets from the likes of CNN, AOL, Entertainment Weekly, Time magazine and even the Chicago Tribune - all owned by Time Warner, which also owns Warner Bros. Studios and DC (formerly Detective Comics). Don't get me wrong, I'm not attempting to suggest any kind of conspiracy to bump up steadily lagging box office profits for the corporate hive, but I do suspect that I must have sat through a different movie than what those far more experienced "real critics" have apparently squealed in glee over. Primarily because the 'Batman Begins' that I sat through started out rather promising but quickly turned into a weirdly unimpressive quagmire of lazy writing, uninspired character development and cheesy effects that ultimately left me bored and tired from continually rolling my eyes at its relentless silliness, long before the sweet release of the closing credits. Unfortunately, most of this cast's otherwise proven acting talent is collectively, forgettably wasted here. Its star Christian Bale's ('American Psycho' (2000), 'The Machinist' (2004)) awkwardly impersonalised, pouting-as-rage interpretation of Batman isn't particularly innovative or captivating, choosing to internalize and squander away much of what has made this otherwise dangerously vengeful character's duality interesting to a paying audience for generations. You see him heavily relying on a Miller-esque narrative that never materializes, expecting you to switch off your brain and be dazzled by the posing and the flying and the swarming CGI bats. It's as though somebody went through the script with a red pen, replacing everything that might be too psychologically intellectual or remotely "thinky" with theatrically vapid shorthand and more explosive, badly shot fight scenes. As though depicting something dark and grim simply means turning down the lights. Yawn. Sure, you want to see Batman kick butt in the cape and cowl and roar through the night in that unrecognizable yet ultra cool battle tank of his, but this disjointed snooze fest would have been a far more satisfying exercise in retooling the origins of over sixty years of history if time had been spent firmly establishing the nefarious depths of his various enemies here, and Bruce Wayne had been lost to his self-destructive torment much longer than shown, before ever touching his rubberized costume or nifty gadgets, frankly. It fails, when compared to the 'Spider-Man' and 'X-Men' films, as a worthwhile super hero adaptation. It fails, except as self-infatuated eye candy for those who love undemanding live action cartoons that could have starred anyone, when compared to such exceptionally superior vendetta flicks as 'Road to Perdition' (2002), 'The Last Samurai' (2003) and 'Man on Fire' (2004). It's definitely not as campy as most of its cinematic predecessors but, sadly, this over-long and aggravating, boring big screen blunder is hardly worth the price of admission.

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Bewitched
REVIEWED 06/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Through with her own kind and the ancient spellbound world of witches that she's known all of her young life, Isabel Bigelow (Nicole Kidman) naively packs up her feline familiar and her trusty flying broomstick and settles into her new suburban California bungalow under a tumbling rose-coloured cloud of sweetly scented apple blossom petals. Much to the cautioning chagrin of her powerful father Nigel (Michael Caine). All Isabel wants to be is normal. A mortal. To open a can of soda or heat up some microwave popcorn without resorting to a finger swish of magic. To have a real conversation, in a real relationship - where she's really loved and really needed - that doesn't end with anyone vanishing in a heated puff of smoke. Isabel wants to have real problems that can't be easily solved, no-matter how much distress is shared over coffee with the real friends that she dreams of having soon. Having all of that, to actually live in the real world as a mortal, doing the things that mortals do, would be enchanting. It will be perfect. However, she needs money. So, Isabel hops into the bright yellow car that she conjures from her new garage, and dropped by the local book shop for a self help book on what to do with her perfect new, completely unwitchified life. That's where she meets Darrin. Or, rather, Jack Wyatt (Will Ferrell), star of such Hollywood movies as 'Atticus Rex', 'An Onion for Willy' and 'Last Year in Katmandu'. They're all box office bombs, but Jack has moved on to a new project, soon to be starring as Darrin Stephens in the retooled version of the TV classic, 'Bewitched'. There, in that small LA book shop, standing in front of him all blue eyed and blonde with her lovely twitching nose, is his perfect Samantha: Isabel. Wyatt hires this unknown to be his famed small screen witch turned bride on the spot. However, what he doesn't tell her is that even though the show will have most of the main characters from the original series, Jack will be the star. He will have all of the best lines, where she will have none. He will get all of the best camera angles, while she will be little more than a pretty prop. It doesn't bode well for Jack, after Isabel finally realizes what a fool she's been to trust him, and resorts to her old witchy woman ways to reap her revenge.

There are certain surreal qualities to sitting through this fairly dreadful and relentlessly unfunny romantic comedy from writer/director Nora Ephron ('Sleepless in Seattle' (1993), 'You've Got Mail' (1998)). First, it's a film containing fictitious characters, that continually refers to ABC Television's actual 'Bewitched' (1964-1972) in which actors Elizabeth Montgomery (1933-1995) and Dick York (1928-1992) - whose illness caused him to quietly be replaced by Dick Sargent (1930-1994) in 1969 - portrayed a fictional couple. Reality and fantasy feels blurred throughout this hundred and two-minute cloud of perky smoke, mainly because many moviegoers probably remember watching that Emmy-winning series. However, that vaguely fascinating trick barely makes a dent in alleviating this horribly pedantic homage's over-all coma inducing powers. Just as its narcissistic has been (made up) actor Jack Wyatt flails around in childish desperation for a hit portraying the retooled show's beleaguered small screen hubby Darrin Stephens, Ferrell ('A Night at the Roxbury' (1998), 'Kicking & Screaming' (2005)) hopelessly flounders in scene after aggravating scene of what look to be acts of comedic suicide as Wyatt here. As though he's quite happy to set aside whatever natural talent launched his career from the ad lib mayhem of Saturday Night Live onto working with big screen names and bigger budgets. Sadly, Ephron's screenplay - reportedly adapted from the story by sister Delia and Adam McKay - systematically betrays Ferrell's otherwise proven ability to deliver bouts of sheer hilarity beyond what's been cobbled into this feature's ads. Another problem with 'Bewitched' is in Tia Nolan's and Stephen A. Rotter's editing. Ironically, an apparently blatant submission to on-the-set politics fails to realize that Kidman's ('Practical Magic' (1998), 'The Interpreter' (2005)) Isabel Bigelow shouldn't be treated as the star of this romp until the third act, when her Samantha Stephens-playing character reclaims her sorcery ways and turns the tables as a stronger figure. That's the second surreal aspect that tends to give your brain a painful tilt while following along with the mind boggling glut of awful jokes and awkward acting bloating this disjointed turkey. Remember how bad Kidman was in 'The Stepford Wives' (2004), whenever she tried to be funny in that remake? Yeah, this is worse. The sub plot involving Shirley MacLaine ('Terms of Endearment' (1983), 'Guarding Tess' (1994)) as affected Diva Iris Smythson and Isabel's philandering, spell casting father Nigel (Michael Caine; 'Alfie' (1966), 'Batman Begins' (2005)) is far more interesting, and Steve Carell's ('Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy' (2004), 'Bruce Almighty' (2003)) playfully foppish impersonation of Paul Lynde's (1926-1982) irreverent Uncle Arthur from the show is an absolute riot. They're not enough, though. Even if Ephron had chosen to build upon the original story, more fully fleshing out these characters and expanding the familiar scenario into an updated, humourously enchanted revisiting of 'Bell, Book and Candle' (1958) - which I suspect inspired the classic series - it might have been able to justify its existence. Sure, the original TV program was never particularly clever or intellectually demanding, but far too much of what inevitably made the show 'Bewitched' an embarrassingly dated sitcom when 'The Mary Tyler Moore Show' (1970-1977) and 'All in the Family' (1971-1979) changed the airwaves seeps through here as annoyingly vapid campy nonsense and trivial kitsche. Frankly, if you're still a fan of the original TV show, stick to watching it in syndication as opposed to wasting your time and box office cash on this less than mediocre and thoroughly boring miasma.

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Bad News Bears
REVIEWED 07/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Morris Buttermaker (Billy Bob Thornton) has a problem. It's not his day job as a household pest exterminator digging around for rat and bug infestations. It's not his continual scrounging for enough cash to pay the rent on his broken down South Valley trailer home and keep his crippled vintage yellow Cadillac on the road. It's not even his longtime habit of pulling the cap closed behind him on every bottle of whiskey he climbs into. Nope, this disgruntled, delinquent drunkard's problem is that he can't get any of his players to catch or throw or hit a ball. Years after Morris 'The Blade' Buttermaker's pro baseball days that briefly skirted the Major Leagues with the Seattle Mariners had become little more than hazy memories best forgotten, he'd signed on to be the new coach with the South Valley Youth Baseball League. Cracking open another non-alcoholic beer spiked with gin and quietly admiring the girls softball team's assets from the sidelines feels better, but that won't put any money in his wrinkled pockets. So, he took the cheque and corralled his pathetic brood of misfits called the Bears onto the field. He saw how lousy they were. Tanner Boyle (Timmy Deters) has a lot of spirit for a twelve year-old who'd rather pick a fight with the Sixth Grade than become a serious young athlete, but he still can't catch. Timothy Lupus (Tyler Patrick Jones) has the right build on him, but he's too intimidated by the ball to actually pick up and throw the damned thing. Mike Engelberg (Brandon Craggs) would probably have a heart attack if he ever managed to connect with the bat and had to run his overweight butt to first base. And then, there's paraplegic Matthew Hooper (Troy Gentile) in his wheelchair at the dugout. Morris witnessed their first game's resounding defeat against the Yankees and had to call a humiliating forfeit. Disastrous times call for desperate measures, and he's left with little choice but to beg Amanda Whurlitzer - an estranged ex-girlfriend's daughter sporting a killer right arm - as a ringer pitcher to kick start this motley crew.

The first thing that probably strikes a paying audience while sitting through this updated remake of the Walter Matthau (1920-2000) / Tatum O'Neal family classic, 'The Bad News Bears' (1976), is that a hefty dose of swearing has been added to the kids' dialogue throughout. And, I do mean an overwhelmingly large amount of profane language. This hundred and eleven-minute movie clearly isn't intended for children, despite the fact that most of what happens here actually does happen to twelve year-olds who wouldn't be allowed to legally see this flick. Which is a shame, because they'd more than likely enjoy it as much as parents enjoyed the first version. With a few minor detail exceptions - which include has-been ex-ball player Morris Buttermaker's (Billy Bob Thornton; 'Sling Blade' (1996), 'Friday Night Lights' (2004)) job being change to that of a lazy, drunken pest exterminator (he was a pool cleaner twenty-nine years ago) and some of the team's ethic mix being altered - the basic premise of the original remains intact. California's South Valley Youth Baseball League's Bears are still the most inept roster of players going into the new summer season. Buttermaker still likes his booze and loose women, and is an awkward fit in his role as authority figure and coach. He still elicits the help of ringers Amanda Whurlitzer (O'Neal's part, taken over by first timer Sammi Kraft) - talented pitcher and precocious teenaged daughter of one of Buttermaker's former girlfriends - and local public school delinquent with a natural aptitude for the game Kelly Leak (debuting Jeff Davies). If you've seen the ads and trailer for this offering, you just might think that this is going to feature Thornton revisiting his hilariously nasty schtick in 'Bad Santa' (2003). That would've been absolutely funny, but this isn't that. Director Richard Linklater ('Slacker' (1991), 'Before Sunset' (2004)) doesn't let the spotlight waver from writers Bill Lancaster's (who penned the '76 hit comedy), Glenn Ficarra's and John Requa's screenplay about these misfit children clumsily learning how to get better at swinging a bat and throwing a ball despite themselves. Thornton - like Matthau - simply accentuates the lewdness-as-comedy quota as a walk-in spectator with a few choice lines of dialogue. He has no real story off the field, just a series of prop gags as filler between innings. So, while 'Bad News Bears' does have a few good laughs in it, a lot of it feels forced and tired with no real cohesiveness or reason to exist. It's merely an overtly brash remake that a family audience might have given mileage to if this offering's needless potty mouth hadn't sabotaged that potential. I don't know, do you think hearing tykes spewing expletives and flipping the bird for almost two hours is enjoyably, sustainably funny? Yawn.

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Broken Flowers
REVIEWED 08/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Sherry (Julie Delpy) was gone. Don Johnston's (Bill Murray) young girlfriend had packed her things, said the hurtful things that she'd needed to say to his perplexed dishevelled face, and had stormed out of his financially successful life and his comfortably furnished suburban Connecticut home. Don was now alone. Depressed. Again. Sure, his longtime friend and next door neighbour Winston (Jeffrey Wright) tried to empathize, but the immediacy of his intense interest in that anonymously typewritten pink letter that had found its way through Don's mail slot that Saturday morning had clearly overwhelmed the man's attention. Winston, true to his nature as an aspiring part-time crime novelist cloistered in his home office over-populated by cloak and dagger props, pored over each detail of that curiously provocative note. The paper's shade of pink. The faint grey post mark on that small pink envelope's blue woodpecker stamp. The particular ribbon and font used by the particular model of typewriter that somebody claiming to be Johnston's former girlfriend had chosen to inform Don of the unexpected news that the estranged teenaged son he never knew he had was heading there. No name or returning address. What? He'd just watched his now ex-girlfriend Sherry, dressed in her pretty pink suit jacket and skirt, get into her white Volkswagen with her luggage and drive away. That's what he wanted to think about for a while. Winston disagreed. That letter was a mystery that needed to be solved, and the only person who could do that was Don. Don went home to sulk some more. He didn't feel like making a list of his old girlfriends. He did anyways, just to get Winston off his back. As the plane slowly descended onto the runway, Don still wasn't sure what he was doing with a folder full of addresses and maps. As his rental car carried him and a bought fistful of pink roses to the front door of Laura Daniels (Sharon Stone), the first name on Winston's list, he still felt confused. Looking for clues, but completely clueless why he'd ever left home. His home, where Don's supposed child might be awaiting his return, ready to share a lot more answers than this sudden road trip down memory lane was offering. It seemed pointless. But, maybe he just needed something to get his mind off of seeing the back of Sherry's pink outfit. Like the pink realtor business card of another ex, Dora (Frances Conroy), or the pink gas tank of the motorcycle skeleton abandoned outside of Penny's (Tilda Swinton) house. It's all got to make sense somehow, right?

This strangely unassuming Art House flick from maverick writer/director Jim Jarmusch ('Night on Earth' (1991), 'Coffee and Cigarettes' (2003)) is definitely one that you'll either love for its deliberately unrefined dialogue and copious use of silence, or you'll come away from after the closing credits feeling bored and confused. I felt both ways. Sitting through 'Broken Flowers' was like sitting through a carnival ride in the Tunnel of Ambivalence for me, mainly because it's great during the scenes when Jarmusch clearly feels like treating a paying audience to some wonderfully fresh experimental movie making, but it's also an extremely aggravating cinematic sleeping pill rife with filler when the script takes yet another of many headlong dips into a quagmire of unsubstantiated nothingness. It's a slog. It continually abandons you, and then rewards you for not walking out in a huff for your money back by giving this over-all remarkable cast - which also includes Sharon Stone ('Basic Instinct' (1992), 'Cold Creek Manor' (2003)), Frances Conroy ('Scent of a Woman' (1992), 'The Aviator' (2004)), Jessica Lange ('Tootsie' (1982), 'Big Fish' (2003)), Tilda Swinton ('Aria' (1987), 'Constantine' (2005)) and Julie Delpy ('Europa Europa' (1990), 'Before Sunset' (2004)) - truly inspired moments of insight and realization to work with. Bill Murray ('Groundhog Day' (1993), 'The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou' (2004)) is, well, Bill Murray when he's purposely not being funny, starring here as beleaguered and unwitting straight man Don Johnston nagged into visiting four of his former girlfriends by his meddling neighbour Winston (wonderfully played by Jeffrey Wright; 'Basquiat' (1996), 'The Manchurian Candidate' (2004)), in order to investigate an anonymous pink letter that claims aged bachelor Johnston has an estranged teenaged son who's looking for him. Probably the best aspect of this meandering hundred and eight-minute feature is its examination of the power of suggestion, where you're never really sure if the continual appearance of the colour pink is a clue towards discovering an expected truth - in kinda the same sort of way your daily horoscope might set you up to become more sensitive towards otherwise irrelevant things - or is merely a product of coincidence erroneously taken as meaning something far more significant than necessary. That part is clever. Used as the primary foundation for an entire movie that doesn't really attempt to otherwise involve you, it quickly becomes a tritely contrived tease that never transpires into anything worthwhile. Leaving you to focus your attention and dwindling patience towards the next oasis of actually interesting stuff that you anticipate in all hopefulness might peek through when the next ex-girlfriend comes to the door. They're not really enough either, once Don bids farewell to Stone's glibly flighty widow Laura and her outrageously provocative screen teen daughter Lolita (Alexis Dziena; 'Wonderland' (2003)). I'm still not sure why Dziena's weirdly exploitative full frontal nude walk on was included, except that this lazy solution seems to be a prevalent trend in shoe string budgeted films replacing production value with shock value. Yawn. Murray spends a disproportionate amount of time simply reacting in silence to whatever passes in front of him, essentially turning 'Broken Flowers' into an exhausting guessing game where you're never really let in on what's going through his character's mind most of the time. Even if Jarmusch had borrowed from 'About Schmidt' (2003), inserting humourous narrative letters home to explain his protagonist's enigmatic thoughts, this surprisingly disappointing picture would have been a far more sustainably enjoyable laid back comedy than what's in the final cut. This full length cult curio is definitely a must-see for unabashed connoisseurs of Jarmusch or die hard fans of Murray, but - even then - probably only as a quickly forgotten rental.

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The Brothers Grimm
REVIEWED 08/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The terrified German village girl running away in her little red riding cape from the enchanted forest on that chilled winter night was the tenth child to disappear. Once upon a time, in 1811, gentry and peasants alike were in a state of panic. The former were rapt by fear as the French armies stormed every city with brutal force. The latter, left as impoverished by this political upheaval as if it had never happened, prayed in their little cottage hovels for hope that someone might save them from the dark spell that had suddenly risen to torment them from the nearby woods. Danger loomed in the shadows at every turn. Even the famous Brothers Grimm, fancifully shy Jacob (Heath Ledger) and swarthy businessman Wilhelm (Matt Damon), weren't completely immune during these treacherous times of foreign occupation and malevolent ethereal evil. Indeed, saving towns from spirits and ogres - played in costume by the Grimms' trusted associates Hidlick (Mackenzie Crook) and Bunst (Richard Ridings), of course - had become a frightfully lucrative venture for them in due time. They were travelling showmen, giving the people what they'd wanted, for a price. They were frauds. Life was good, until war had erupted and, soon afterwards, invading French General Delatombe's (Jonathan Pryce) devilish henchman Mercurio Cavaldi (Peter Stormare) had arrested Jacob and Wilhelm on charges punishable under the minimum sentence of death. All seemed lost, until a deal was struck that sends the brothers into the forest to defeat an unseen horror. A wolven beast that hunts under a pale moon, spiriting away children to the ruined tower of a vain Queen (Monica Bellucci) from Centuries past. A fabled terror, protected by the trees that walk like insects, and insects that guard a terrible secret conjured from the mists of time to once again plague this beleaguered countryside in suffering and despair...

Loosely enriched by selected folklore-based fairy tales by famed German writers Jakob Ludwig Karl Grimm (1785-1863) and Wilhem Karl Grimm (1786-1859) first published in their 1812 compilation Kinder und Hausmärchen (Children's and Household Tales), this sporadically inspired hundred and eighteen-minute action comedy from director Terry Gilliam ('Monty Python and the Holy Grail' (1975), 'Twelve Monkeys' (1995)) starts out as a rollicking anachronistic extravaganza for the senses, but quickly collapses under the weight of unimpressive familiarity. Gilliam is famous for presenting movies that borrow heavily from known myth, such as 'Time Bandits' (1981), 'The Adventures of Baron Munchausen' (1988) and 'The Fisher King' (1991), so 'The Brothers Grimm' feels a lot like a rehash of those pictures at times - with the added dimension of a paying audience playing along in trying to recognize which Grimm fables have been blatantly stitched into Ehren Kruger's ('Reindeer Games' (2000), 'The Skeleton Key' (2005)) screenplay throughout. Schneewittchen (Snow White), Rapunzel, and Hänsel und Gretel are just three to start you off with. You can also find their book's English translation at the Project Gutenberg website (http://www.gutenberg.org/ dirs/etext01/grimm10.txt). There's also quite a bit swiped from French author Charles Perrault's (1628-1703) Contes de ma Mère l'Oye (Tales of Mother Goose, published in 1697), such as La Belle au Bois dormant (Sleeping Beauty), and his Le Petit Chaperon Rouge - ironically, reportedly sanitized by the Brothers Grimm as Rotkäppchen (Little Red Riding Hood). This flick basically becomes a tritely amusing novelty in that regard, much like 'Shrek' (2001), but without the cleverly fresh hilarity. The plot just seems too contrived and convoluted for its own good, unfortunately conspiring to deflate the over-all entertainment value. Sadly, because this flick wasn't released five years ago, its fuel evaporates into a weaker brand of pixie dust against memories of Gilliam's previous movies and director Peter Jackson's 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy. And, that's really a shame. Matt Damon ('Good Will Hunting (1997), 'The Bourne Supremacy' (2004)) and Heath Ledger ('Monster's Ball' (2001), 'Lords of Dogtown' (2005)) clearly give their all as Will and Jake, respectively, while having a blast with this one's fairly pedantic original portions, but their performances simply aren't strong enough to sustain your interest in them against the Tolkienesque CGI effects and the far more captivating efforts of Peter Stormare ('Fargo' (1996), 'Constantine' (2005)) as Mercurio Cavaldi, psychotic Italian torture meister of the French army invading Germany. Definitely rent it as a second choice feature worth enjoying with the (older) kids after seeing any of Gilliam's previous fable-based films, but don't really expect to see much that you haven't probably already enjoyed that's been done much better by Gilliam.

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Brokeback Mountain
REVIEWED 01/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Wow. Adapted from Pulitzer Prize winning writer Edna Annie Proulx's 1997 short story featured in the 1999 compilation Close Range: Wyoming Stories, this visually breathtaking and arguably ground breaking feature from director Ang Lee ('The Ice Storm' (1997), 'Hulk' (2003)) wonderfully traces the emotionally tortured secretive love affair between impetuous Texan rodeo bronc rider Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal; 'The Day After Tomorrow' (2004), 'Jarhead' (2005)) and stoic Wyoming cattle hand Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger; 'A Knight's Tale' (2001), 'The Brothers Grimm' (2005)) beginning with their first summer together as teens grazing a thousand head of sheep in the rugged woods of Brokeback Mountain in 1963.

There's apparently a lot of Oscar buzz surrounding this seven-time Golden Globe nominated flick, but it seems strange that none of the obviously warranted excitement acknowledges cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto's absolutely mesmerizing camera work throughout. That's the true star here, with everything else being masterfully served up as richly textured gravy. Admittedly, the first time I heard that bareback - uh, I mean - 'Brokeback Mountain' was about cowboys in love, I basically rolled my eyes in remembrance of famed Art world Diva Andy Warhol's riotously outrageous 1968 film 'Lonesome Cowboys' that featured buff men swaggering in and out of tight jeans and little else. Skeptical, I figured Hollywood's latest return to Gay Cinema - a predominantly sad litany of melodramatic stinkers that has envariably perpetuated passé caricatures and made ecclesiastic-like lazy use of mob rule or AIDS - at least might hopefully contain a tad less satire and porn than seen in Warhol's Oater for contemporary moviegoers. As it turns out, there's very little nudity as Gyllenhaal and Ledger effortlessly spin every careful gesture and glance into volumes of unspoken dialogue, powerfully underpinning the depth of their fully realized and completely believable characters throughout. Gender preferences aside, as with any memorably great on-screen romance, it's not about the sex so much as it is about the story overwhelming a paying audience with the jagged avalanche of emotional angst and joy that two lovers struggle to articulate but never can. Twist and Del Mar never say "I love you," because the words seem pale in comparison to how they feel - even years into their relationship, after both men have taken wives and had children and essentially become "normal" members of society for their environment and era. Larry McMurtry's and Diana Ossana's beautifully minimal screenplay deftly galvanizes that at every key moment, constantly encouraging you to remain completely engaged with what slowly transpires as internal and external forces work at destroying the bond between these turbulent souls. Clocking in at a slightly over-long hundred and thirty-four minutes that tends to drag a bit during the last half hour, 'Brokeback Mountain' is still an intelligent and gorgeous movie - whose time is long overdue, after 'Philadelphia' (1993) - for mainstream audiences over-all. Sure, the subject matter and the fact that both Gay and Hetero sexuality is graphically portrayed in brief nude scenes here will likely turn off a lot of potential viewers, no-matter what anybody says. Their loss. This one's definitely well worth the price of admission, and keep an eye out for Ledger's facial quirks uncannily resembling those of Steve McQueen (no pun intended). It's also a breath of fresh air seeing the versatility of Anne Hathaway ('The Princess Diaries' (2001), 'Ella Enchanted' (2004)) finally being tapped for a reasonably meaty supporting role portraying an adult woman in a movie intended for ticket holders older than this many fingers. Simply phenomenal.

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