Friday, April 10, 1998
Screenscene
FILM
"City of Angels"
Directed by Brad Silberling
Starring Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan
Tasting a pear. Feeling the wind caress your skin. Holding a
hand. These seemingly insignificant, human sensations are what
entice Seth (Nicolas Cage), the compassionate, curious angel at the
center of "City of Angels," to sacrifice the gift of eternal
life.
Although fans may associate Nicolas Cage with his recent
action-packed adventures like "Face/Off"and "Con Air," this
lushly-romantic drama shows why Cage won the Academy Award for
"Leaving Las Vegas." His stand-out performance gains support from a
charming and soulful cast.
A remake of the 1987 German film, "Wings of Desire," the movie
showcases Los Angeles as a city where real angels, dressed in
somber black outfits sans the wings and halo, look out for humans
in every place imaginable – from the corner liquor store to the
traffic-jammed freeway. As messengers of God, they cannot be seen
or touched but have an ability to hear the thoughts of any humans
around them.
A love story soon unfolds when Seth becomes infatuated with
Maggie (Meg Ryan), a feisty heart surgeon. Maggie’s genuine good
nature and determination to fight for the lives of her patients
moves Seth to imagine life as a flesh-and-blood man.
Although the plot moves in a predictable direction, the intense
chemistry between Cage and Ryan makes the storyline a lot of fun to
watch. While Cage brings an endearing, childlike innocence to Seth,
Ryan’s mature portrayal of Maggie makes for a fitting contrast.
Touched by an angel, the surgeon transforms from someone relying on
textbook facts to an impulsive woman making a leap of faith.
Another likeable performance comes from Dennis Franz, who takes
a break from his crusty TV-cop persona on "NYPD Blue." As
free-spirited Nathan Messinger, he provides refreshing
amusement.
One disappointing aspect of the film is the lack of screen time
for an under-used Andre Braugher. Though Braugher certainly holds
his own as Seth’s spiritual voice of reason, his character gets
lost in the shuffle of the central love story.
Although the movie cannot escape the label of "chick-flick," it
has enough star power and life lessons for men and women to both
relate to. However, a little romance never hurt anyone.
Terry Tang
Grade: B+
"The Butcher Boy"
Directed by Neil Jordan.
Starring Stephen Rea, Eamonn Owens, Fiona Shaw, Aisling
O’Sullivan and Alan Boyle
Chilling comedy. Gritty fantasy Heartrending horror. Violent
drama. "The Butcher Boy" manages to successfully mince these
conflicting qualities together to form an engaging film with many
layers. However, even though it’s a well-crafted movie, the
clashing tones may provide uncomfortable dissonance within the
viewer.
This adaptation of Patrick McCabe’s award-winning novel of the
same name is directed by Neil Jordan, who did "Interview With the
Vampire." Jordan is also the acclaimed director of the Irish flicks
"The Crying Game" and "Michael Collins."
Revisiting Ireland, "The Butcher Boy" is set during the 1960s
against the lush backdrop of Clones, a rural Irish town. The film
focuses on the conflicting worlds of fantasy and reality for
12-year-old Francie Brady (Eamonn Owens). Francie’s harsh reality
consists of his abusive, drunken father ("The Crying Game’s"
Stephen Rea), a suicidal mother (Aisling O’Sullivan) and his
despised neighbor Mrs. Nugent (Fiona Shaw). His deep friendship
with his school chum Joe (Alan Boyle) and his job at the local
slaughterhouse are the only positive aspects of Francie’s life.
To escape his dreary existence, he slips into a fantasy world
influenced by television and comic culture images, as well as
equally vivid religious visions. As his friendship with Joe and
other aspects of his real life disintegrate, Francie gets lost in
his delusional state. Shunned by the townsfolk, propelled by his
hatred toward Mrs. Nugent and goaded on by the Virgin Mary, Francie
explodes into murderous violence with tragic, yet sardonically
comical, consequences.
The casting of "The Butcher Boy" is brilliant. Newcomer Owens
fills out the meaty role of Francie with charisma and confident
charm. Rea’s solid performance emotes compassion for his
unsympathetic character, and his voice-over narrative as the adult
Francie is the glue that gives structure to the film. The most
delicious cameo, though, is Sinead O’Connor as the dirty-mouthed
Virgin Mary. Although the Virgin Mary articulates the f-word quite
distinctly, at times the rich Irish accents are close to needing
subtitles. Nevertheless, the often jarring emotions are clearly
conveyed throughout the film.
It’s refreshing to watch a movie fueled by just strong emotional
performances. However, this sharp and savagely funny film exploring
madness and alienation is occasionally painful to watch. This is
definitely no light popcorn fare. Ultimately, "The Butcher Boy" is
an extremely powerful film that lets its emotions cut deep into the
heart of the audience.
Sumyi Khong
Grade A-
"The Big One"
Directed by Michael Moore
Shoddy camera work, juvenile pranks and the staple fat guy in a
baseball cap make "The Big One" quintessential Michael Moore. But,
really, would fans of "Roger & Me" and the short-lived but
ingeniously satirical comedy-slash-newsmagazine "TV Nation" want it
any other way?
Since his one-man attack on the Reaganomics which wreaked
corporate havoc on his hometown of Flint, Mich., Moore has emerged
as one of the country’s cleverest, most irreverent documenatarians
and found his niche crusading with – not just for – the little guy.
In "The Big One" (in which he offers in the last 10 minutes of the
film a meaner, sleeker nomenclature for the United States), Moore
invites the audience on his book tour across the heartland of this
TV nation.
You’ve got to give him credit for turning what is essentially a
home video of him doing his schtick on a publisher-mandated voyage
into a feature length expose of the powers that be. And maybe not
so surprisingly for those accustomed to Moore’s keen eye and honest
wit, it works.
As Moore and his entourage (the camera man, his producer and an
alternately ditzy and good-natured string of publicists) stir up
dust in such hot spots as Centralia, Ill., he finds time to
organize employees of a local Borders franchise, elbow his way into
countless corporate offices, only to be escorted right back out
(but not without a few feet of hilarious footage) and jam with Rick
Nielsen of Cheap Trick.
Besides editing that points a big red arrow at life’s little
hypocrisies, Moore’s primary tool for social change is his complete
lack of inhibition when it comes to confrontation. He doesn’t mind
putting people on the spot – not the gaggle of
"I’m-just-doing-my-job" doorpersons (whom we can’t help but feel
cringingly sorry for) and certainly not Nike giant Phil Knight (the
one CEO with the balls and gall to actually talk to Moore). Mr.
Swoosh, who defends his notorious overseas sweatshops with the
admonition that "Americans do not want to make shoes," is amiable
enough to donate $10,000 to Flint schools, but refuses to declare
the former GM headquarters Niketown.
Moore’s protest is embedded in his humor as he declares, "Do you
guys get the feeling we’re going to have the lowest turnout ever in
this election? It’s depressing. Let’s go to McDonald’s." He’s the
first one to call attention to the irony of his situation – it’s
easy to campaign for the average Joe when royalty checks give you
the luxury of being an unruly diva.
But while he’s unruly, he never condescends. If his documentary
subjects appear a little yokel-y, well, Moore is right there with
them, chowing down on candy bars and posing such bites of wisdom
as, "If it’s just about profit, why doesn’t GM sell crack?"
Moore uses humor to its full capacity, flipping America over and
relentlessly tickling its dark underbelly. And while the subject
matter ranges from trivial to downright disturbing as we watch a
recently downsized woman fight back tears when recounting her years
with Ford Motors, Moore never makes the mistake of taking himself
too seriously. This is a man who nominates Queen’s "We Will Rock
You" as our national anthem and writes a check to Ross Perot’s
campaign fund, courtesy of Pedophiles for Free Trade.
Like Moore’s previous accomplishments (in fact, almost exactly
like Moore’s previous accomplishments), this is a documentary not
quite for the Beavises and Buttheads of the world, but certainly
for their college educated cousins. As filmmakers, comedians and
social commentators go, Moore has perhaps unwittingly earned
himself the witty, rough-edged title of "The Big One."
Cheryl Klein
Grade: A-Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan star in "City of Angels."