Musing with the stars
The Muse A film review by Michael Redman Copyright 1999 by Michael Redman
*** (out of ****)
Those damn Muses. The children of Zeus and Mnemosyne are some of the most infuriating of the gods. They are supposed to provide artistic inspiration but they're so demanding and just when you need them, they are busy elsewhere.
You sit in front of a glowing computer screen or stand at your easel and there's nothing there. No words. No brushstrokes. You dig deep inside and come up empty. You can't hit the zone that disengages your mind and allows your hands to take on a life of their own.
The Muses require a heavy toll. Artists, writers and musicians have varied and often opposing methods of paying tribute: drugs, alcohol, sex, abstinence, solitude, nature, meditation. Many of these are played to the extreme and are often self-destructive, but the Muses demand the artist leave the realm of everyday to receive their messages.
Once you get into contact with them, you're on fire. Everything flows. Manuscripts are written, pictures painted, poems composed. You don't even notice hours have passed and the morning birds are singing. The gods are in their universe and all's right with the world.
Steven Phillips (Albert Brooks) is a lucky man. He's dealing with Sarah (Sharon Stone), a living breathing real-life Muse who is helping him with his screenwriting slump. Well, maybe he's not so fortunate: Sarah is something of a bitch goddess.
Steven is a successful writer. He has 17 screenplays to his credit, one an Oscar nominee. But the day after receiving a Humanitarian award, the studio dumps him. His work has lost its edge. He's past his prime.
Desperate for help, he visits his buddy Jack Warrick (Jeff Bridges) who reluctantly turns him on to Sarah. She has helped him before and is quite the Hollywood deity about town.
Steven is overjoyed to work with the Muse until he discovers her requirements. He must bring gifts -- jewelry from Tiffany's. When she gets it, she casually tosses it into a large pile of other boxes in the same pale blue wrapping paper. Homage from other clients. She insists he put her up in a $1,700 a day suite in the Four Seasons. She calls in the middle of the night with a yen for Waldorf Salad. He brings it to her, but she's fallen asleep and doesn't want it anymore.
Then she moves into his home.
He's willing to put up with all of this because he can write again. When he stalls, she's too busy helping his wife Laura (Andie MacDowell) start a cookie business to give him much attention.
It gets worse as directors parade to her looking for help. She advises "Titanic" director James Cameron not to do a sequel ("Stay away from the water"). Martin Scorsese needs to talk to her about a re-make of "Raging Bull" with a thin guy ("Not just a thin guy, but a _really_ thin guy"). Steven can't get any time.
Surprisingly, Sharon Stone is the hit of the film. Sarah is a perfect combination of sex goddess and artistic inspiration who arrives at just the right time to save Steven's sanity. Stone has a comedic flare and perfectly captures the flighty irresistible Muse used to having men cater to her every whim. She abuses them and they come back for more because she has what they want.
Brooks also directed the film and mostly hits the target. He does miss occasionally and this gives the movie an odd pacing. Just when everything is going fine and the audience is captured, an ill-conceived scene brings it all down. Then he salvages with another hilarious bit. Perhaps he should have hung out with Sarah a bit more.
Bridges is outstanding in his small but pivotal role. His natural assumption of the character makes you wish he were around for more screen time. MacDowell is a charmer, but her performance seems flat.
The ending is a bit out of left field and undermines the charm of rest of the film. Perhaps because I fell under Sarah's spell, I have to wonder if the gray-bearded doctor is exactly who he says he is. The Greek gods are often tricksters.
This isn't a blockbuster and won't pull in the big bucks, but it's an enchanting fairy tale and Sarah is enthralling.
(Michael Redman has written this column for 'bout 24 years. Muses can email tales of inspiration to Redman@indepen.com.)
[This appeared in the 9/2/99 "Bloomington Independent", Bloomington, Indiana. Michael Redman can be contacted at Redman@indepen.com.]
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