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 THE ENGLISH PATIENT. Against all probability, Canadian
novelist Michael Ondaantje's award-winning novel translates into
an impressive, sepia-toned love story of epic proportions (that
is, it clocks in at 162 minutes). Alternately filmed on location
in Italy and North Africa, the screenplay sidesteps the magical
realist bent of the novel in favor of an historic drama spanning
the conquest of North Africa by the Brits and the horrors of war-torn
Italy in 1945. Ralph Fiennes stars as the title character, with
strong support from Kristin Scott Thomas (the object of his obsession)
and Juliet Binoche (his nurse after the accident which leaves
him, and his amazing story, charred and dying). Visually stunning
and, at times, painfully moving, The English Patient paradoxically
forges a new, invented story that nonetheless remains true to
the original novel.--M.W.
JERRY MAGUIRE. This chirpy, semi-sweet bit of holiday cheer
comes to us straight from the heart of Cameron Crowe, the talented
writer and director of Singles and Say Anything.
Here, he shoots for Capra-esque comedy with mixed results. The
title character, a megawatt sports agent, loses his job, his fiancée,
and his bearings, requiring love (in all of its forms) to come
to the rescue. To say this is a vehicle for Tom Cruise is an understatement:
He's got more face time than Tammy Faye in a hall of mirrors,
and he gets to utilize all of his impressive vulnerabilities in
giant, unseemly close-up. Still, there are more clever bits than
you'd imagine; and Crowe is always funny, though here he plays
it sentimental, copping shameless milage out of adorable kids
and tearful speeches. Enjoyable enough, but it's got more pop
than fizz.--P.M.
MARS ATTACKS! Evil martians attempt to conquer Earth in
Tim Burton's affectionate homage to campy sci-fi movies of the
fifties. Iridescent bad guys who say "ack ack" quick-fry
flaky earthlings from Las Vegas in a movie eerily reminiscent
of this summer's Independence Day, with one major difference:
Independence Day was stupid by accident, but Mars Attacks
is stupid on purpose! Though occasional flashes of Burton's odd,
childlike brilliance break through, this film is fun mostly because
of its constant special effects, glittery sets, and those great
scenes featuring Sarah Jessica Parker's head stapled to a dog's
body. On the down side, Jack Nicholson, in a dual role, is predictably
annoying.--S.R.
RANSOM. A Ron Howard film is like a Hallmark card: You
know what it's going to say, but who doesn't get excited about
seeing one? This is a by-the-numbers sleazy bad-guy flick about
a corrupt cop (Gary Sinise) who abducts the son of a billionaire
airline mogul (Mel Gibson). The latter's fine-honed business sense
tells him to place a $4-million bounty on the kidnapper's head
rather than pay the $2-million ransom, which leads to two full
hours of screaming cell phone conversations and moralistic banter.
Gibson and Rene Russo turn out impressive performances as the
distraught parents, and Sinise is appropriately evil.--M.W.
ROMEO AND JULIET. In his second film, director Baz Luhrman
gives the Bard's only teen-movie script an MTV/Miami-Cubano style,
producing the noisiest rendition any Elizabethan play has ever
received. Still, he remains largely faithful to the original,
not only in the language, but also in the youth and aching immediacy
of the protagonists. Claire Danes is especially good as Juliet,
uttering Shakespeare's difficult English without affect, and John
Leguizamo defines the role of the petulant Tybalt, playing the
part with an insightful butch-camp swagger. Kenneth Branagh could
learn a thing or two about bringing the Bard to the big screen
from this effort--it's not only exciting, stylish and witty in
its small details, it's also accessible without being condescending.
The action conveys so much sense that the teen audiences even
laughed at Shakespeare's puns. If you need to see bodkins and
ruffled collars to enjoy your Veronese tragedies, stay home; but
if a boys' choir singing "When Doves Cry" seems the
perfect accompaniment to the wedding of two star-cross'd lovers,
you'll surely enjoy the two hours' traffic of this staging.--J.D.
SLEEPERS. Director Barry Levinson overshoots the mark in
Sleepers, a long, overly dramatic movie emphatically about
the loss of innocence. Though the first part of the film, about
a group of mischievous friends growing up in Hell's Kitchen, has
some of the neighborhood charm of Levinson's Diner, the
story unravels in the second half into an annoying series of flashbacks
that are basically all the same. The plot concerns a group of
boys who pull a prank that gets out of hand; as a result they're
sent away to a Draconian boy's prison where the guards torture
and abuse them. Fifteen years later the boys (haunted by black
and white flashbacks), take their revenge on the guards. (One
astute viewer leaving the theater commented on the similarities
to First Wives' Club.) Though the plot gains some power
through the fact that it's based on a true story, the tension
never feels genuine, and the boys never seem as real as adults
as they did as happy children. Dustin Hoffman gives a nice performance
in his plum little role, and Robert Deniro manages a kind of manly
rectitude as the neighborhood priest; unfortunately, the adult
versions of the boys aren't played nearly as well. --S.R.
STAR TREK: FIRST CONTACT. The crew of the Enterprise take
on the Borg, the nearly omnipotent cyberhive, in this latest star-crossing
adventure, spinning off whence many sci-fi flicks have boldly
gone before. The dashing Jonathan Frakes (aka Number One, Wil
Ryker), directs this latest special effects festival of (George
Lucas') Industrial Light and Magic. There's no denying it: The
Borg looks great on the big screen. While First Contact isn't
likely to convert new Trekkies, the effort suggests the Trek franchise
will continue to live long and prosper. Coming in 1997: Star
Trek: The Experience at the Las Vegas Hilton.--Slab
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