Director Sydney Pollack’s film adaptation of John Grisham’s bestseller The Firm (B-) is a rather tepid thriller that nearly misses its mark with lazy pacing, boring piano music (it sounds like the opposite of “page turner”) and empty-suit acting by Tom Cruise. Luckily the pacing picks up, and it can at least be characterized as a template for the “man joins firm and finds himself over his head in scandal” type movie. Coming off the mega-flop Havana, it is clear Pollack isn’t taking too many risks here, and fortunately he casts Gene Hackman as diabolical head of the law firm and the zany Gary Busey as a private investigator. There are few films Hackman doesn’t improve. Cruise is joined on the domestic front by the equally bland Jeanne Tripplehorn. When his character learns his law firm isn’t all he was promised, it’s a race to the finish to get to the closing credits.
Jon Amiel’s Sommersby (B) is a soapy, post-Civil War-era retelling of the French film Return of Martin Guerre about a war hero (Richard Gere) who returns to his southern home and to his wife (Jodie Foster) and son — but the returning hero may actually be an imposter. But could the guy who returned actually be an improvement over the hubby from before? The script is a bit overwrought and many twists far-fetched, but the actors give it their all, and the production values are strong. Danny Elfman provides a rare and effective romantic score. It’s pretty likely you’ll be hooked to the central couple’s story and on the edge of your seat about how it turns out.
Elvis in Blue Hawaii. Madonna in Shanghai Surprise. History has not been kind for pop superstar cross-overs into film, but Whitney Houston actually lifts director Mick Jackson’s The Bodyguard (B-) into an often stylish and engaging romantic adventure with music. Paired with a stoic Kevin Costner as her protector, Houston capably plays a souped-up version of herself in a dusted-off Lawrence Kasdan script that is mainly a big excuse to get to the love sequences and the songs. See it for the iconic songs such as “Queen of the Night,” “Run to You,” “I Am Nothing” and “I Will Always Love You.”
A prequel of sorts to his eponymous cult television series detailing the final days of the slain Laura Palmer’s life, director David Lynch fashions a tonally off-kilter slow-burn drama in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (C-). Replacing the sometimes giddy, carefree world of log ladies and damn fine cups of coffee with a generally oppressive sense of dread and sorrow, Twin Peaks The Movie never finds its distinctive voice. Viewers are left at a distance, voyeurs to a world where a dwarf speaks backwards and in subtitles and where additions to the seedy pop-mythology don’t serve to enrich as much as disturb. Lynch has built more artfully on his vision of the underbelly of small-town Americana in Blue Velvet and his Twin may have peaked in serialized form rather than this celluloid format. Kyle MachLachlan is pretty vacant as the central detective, and Sheryl Lee brings very little to the mysterious Laura Palmer whose mystery doesn’t seem much solved by this puzzling film.
Director John Glen, who has made a career out of taking the final gasps of life out of creaky James Bond film entries in the late ’80’s, originally cast Timothy Dalton but found an even more bland leading man named George Correface to play the title character of Christopher Columbus: The Discovery (D+). Like the Niña, Pinta and Santa Maria, this vessel is undeniably wooden. Even Marlon Brando can’t muster a glimmer of interest as a high inquisitor. This “Columbus for Beginners” wouldn’t even make a good mini-series if you split it up into episodes. This won’t be playing soon in a classroom near you.
Jon Avnet’s Fried Green Tomatoes (A) offers a whistlestop whirlwind into the universal truths of friendship, sisterhood and possibly a whole lot more under the surface of women in the South. Kathy Bates and Jessica Tandy are appealing in the framing modern-day empowerment story, but it’s the flashbacks centering on rascally restaurateurs played by Mary-Louise Parker and Mary Stuart Masterson that really take hold of the imagination. Several subplots that aren’t fully sketched are eclipsed by the overall emotional impact of a journey that showcases the power of secrets and sacrifice.
Tony Scott’s Top Gun (B) is style over substance, but ah, what great style! This iconic ’80s drama action hybrid features a charismatic Tom Cruise as a talented Navy aviator whose brashness gets him into trouble with the ladies, including love interest Kelly McGillis, and puts him at odds with friends (Anthony Edwards) and rivals (Val Kilmer) alike. The “Danger Zone” of one of its pop songs refers to the tempestuousness of the romance, the braggadocio of the fly-boys and the dread of a real wartime menace. Anyone who was ever hot for teacher, wanted a kept moment to take their breath away or simply sought some effective action stunts flocked to this favorite of its heyday. The story is lots of montage and flashy imagery but packs a patriotic punch. You either like the lovey-dovey stuff or the sky-high high-jinks; the Venn diagram of people who find all of this works equally for them may be minimal. But see it for the stars in the making, the cocky catchphrases and a Harold Faltermeyer score that basically says “you’re kicking ass in America during the ’80s.”
A prequel of sorts to his eponymous cult television series detailing the final days of the slain Laura Palmer’s life, director David Lynch fashions a tonally off-kilter slow-burn drama in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (C-). Replacing the sometimes giddy, carefree world of log ladies and damn fine cups of coffee with a generally oppressive sense of dread and sorrow, Twin Peaks The Movie never finds its distinctive voice. Viewers are left at a distance, voyeurs to a world where a dwarf speaks backwards and in subtitles and where additions to the seedy pop-mythology don’t serve to enrich as much as disturb. Lynch has built more artfully on his vision of the underbelly of small-town Americana in Blue Velvet and his Twin may have peaked in serialized form rather than this celluloid format. Kyle MachLachlan is pretty vacant as the central detective, and Sheryl Lee brings very little to the mysterious Laura Palmer whose mystery doesn’t seem much solved by this puzzling film.
Jon Avnet’s Fried Green Tomatoes (A) offers a whistlestop whirlwind into the universal truths of friendship, sisterhood and possibly a whole lot more under the surface of women in the South. Kathy Bates and Jessica Tandy are appealing in the framing modern-day empowerment story, but it’s the flashbacks centering on rascally restaurateurs played by Mary-Louise Parker and Mary Stuart Masterson that really take hold of the imagination. Several subplots that aren’t fully sketched are eclipsed by the overall emotional impact of a journey that showcases the power of secrets and sacrifice.
