FOUR ROOMS and Other Films
A film review by Michael Dequina
Copyright 1996 Michael Dequina
Four Rooms (R) ** Quite needless to say, I did not enter the first showing of Four Rooms on opening day (Christmas Day) the most unbiased viewer. Despite the critical drubbing it had received following its lackluster premiere at the Toronto Film Festival, I was eager to see this omnibus anthology comedy written and directed by four different independent directors, two of whom being a couple of my absolute favorites, the incredibly talented (and all-around swell guy) Robert Rodriguez and my namesake, Mr. Brown himself, Quentin Tarantino (Allison Anders and Alexandre Rockwell are the other two). Instead of fearing the worst, I took my seat in the fairly crowded auditorium willing to give everyone involved the benefit of the doubt. I'd probably have been better off expecting the worst, for I probably would have enjoyed this slapdash stew of mostly unfunny gags a little more and not have been so utterly disappointed. The film takes place on New Year's Eve at the Mon Signor Hotel, and bellhop Ted (Tim Roth), the only staffer on duty, provides the only link between the four tales, getting involved in bizarre goings-on in four different rooms. The first tale is Anders's "The Missing Ingredient," about a coven of witches (Valeria Golino, Sammi Davis, Ione Skye, Lili Taylor, and a surprisingly adequate Madonna) who attempt to resurrect their goddess Diana (Amanda deCadenet) with a strange brew (which, coincidentally, was the segment's original title). The final ingredient in their brew is fresh sperm, and they enlist Ted to provide the goods. Word is that over twenty minutes were cut from the finished film following the Toronto premiere, and a good chunk of that missing footage appears to have been from this story, for, as it stands in its current version, is neither funny nor makes any complete sense. There's no comic payoff at all, and it doesn't really "end"--it just stops. None of the actors are given much to do although Roth's bizarre mannerisms and delivery are good for a chuckle here or there. Ted is "The Wrong Man" of Rockwell's segment of the same name, in which our trusty bellhop is mistaken for the lover of a woman (Jennifer Beals) who is bound and gagged and held hostage at gunpoint by her husband (David Proval of Mean Streets fame). Unlike Anders's piece, this vignette does build up to a big joke, but that joke isn't all that funny (unless, perhaps, you find the rattling off of numerous euphemisms for "penis" hilarious), and the road to that joke is quite bumpy and slow, with no real laughs. Sharp-eyed viewers will recognize Lawrence Bender, producer of the film and Tarantino's partner at A Band Apart Productions, in a cameo. Again, the best thing about the piece is Roth, who has a manic energy that is unmatched by the other players or the writer-director. Manic energy is in abundance in the third room, Rodriguez's "The Misbehavers," the only truly hilarious segment. Ted is left in charge of two boisterous young children (Lana McKissick and Danny Verduzco) when their parents (Tamlyn Tomita and Antonio Banderas, in fine form) go out for a night on the town. Hilarity ensues when a syringe, alcohol, and a dead body are thrown into the mix, leading to a raucous finish. It all plays better than it sounds, thanks to the expert direction by Rodriguez and the comic timing and prowess of Roth, Banderas, McKissick, and Verduzco. This segment is the film's true saving grace. The most disappointing, but not the worst, piece of the puzzle is Tarantino's closing bit, "The Man From Hollywood." Quentino himself stars as Chester Rush, an egomaniacal movie star who gets Ted to play the impartial moderator of a twisted bet between himself and a member of his entourage (Paul Calderon, who played the bartender in Pulp Fiction). The vignette ends with a nifty joke, but it's slow going getting there, for Tarantino's dialogue lacks his trademark snap, and his rather lengthy takes only contribute to the sluggish pace. Jennifer Beals's character from the Rockwell segment and an unbilled Bruce Willis also appear, but add little, if anything to the mix. Maybe it's my bias talking, but ol' Q's acting isn't half bad here (then again, I can't say that I ever really had a problem with his acting), and Roth once again maintains his dignity. But this vignette feels rather forced, with none of the soul or passion in previous Tarantino efforts. If anything, Four Rooms _is_ outrageous and far from a tough sit, but as a comedy, it fails to deliver the goods. It is a noble but failed filmic experiment that maybe isn't quite as bad as its detractors have been saying, but is by no means that good, either. Expect this one to check out of theatres soon.
IN BRIEF
12 Monkeys (R) ** This ambitious thriller is a messy melange of action, adventure, sci-fi, romance, horror, and unintentional comedy. A bald Bruce Willis plays an inmate from an unspecified future year sent back in time to 1996 to try to trace the origins of a virus responsible for wiping out 99% of the earth's population; Madeleine Stowe is a psychiatrist who ultimately comes to his aid; and an inexplicably Golden-Globe-nominated Brad Pitt is a mental patient who could hold the key to the mysterious riddle of the 12 monkeys. Fine efforts by Willis and Stowe, stunning production design in the future sequences, and director Terry Gilliam's keen visual sense can't make up for a laughable, scenery-devouring Pitt; Gilliam's plodding pacing; and a script (by David and Janet Peoples, inspired by the film La Jetee) that's all over the map and spread much too thin. Only the final moments achieve the haunting, lingering sense of dread for which Gilliam appears to strive (and falls short) for the entire 130-minute running time.
IN CURRENT RELEASE
Heat (R) *** 1/2 Michael Mann's ambitious crime saga is far from the action spectacle it's being sold as, but it is an insightful dramatic look about the relationship between cops, criminals, and the women in their lives. Al Pacino is in over-the-top Frank Slade/Scent of a Woman mode as a Los Angeles police detective determined to take down master criminal Robert DeNiro, who is even more reserved here than he was in Casino. Writer-director Mann sometimes overreaches, such as including an unnecessary subplot involving a serial killer, but the overall package is still worth a look; an intense coffee shop talk between the two leads is worth the admission price alone, as is a spectacular shootout and the transcendent finale. Val Kilmer, Ashley Judd, Amy Brenneman, and Tom Sizemore, among others, round out the fine ensemble.
Leaving Las Vegas (R) *** 1/2 This grim Vegas romance between a man (Nicolas Cage) determined to drink himself to death and a hard-luck prostitute (Elisabeth Shue) is the definitive downer--which isn't to say that it is a complete drag to sit through (although it _is_ a difficult sit). The powerful work of Cage and Shue and writer-director Mike Figgis make for a haunting, heartbreaking film that does deserve most of the many critical plaudits it has been receiving. Thankfully, Boxing Helena's Julian Sands only turns up very briefly as Shue's Latvian pimp.
Nixon (R) **** You can take the man away from Natural Born Killers, but you apparently can't take the natural born killer out of the man, for Oliver Stone's fascinating bio of the late, lamented president is not lacking in stylistic pyrotechnics--a number of Stone's NBK tactics are here, such as constant shifts between color and black and white, the use of many types of film stocks, and the superimposing of words over scenes (this time in foreign characters--some type of subliminal suggestion, Oliver?). In any case, this is a riveting tragedy, the moving tale of a man who had it all--or so he thought--and saw it all fall to pieces. Anthony Hopkins is fabulous as Tricky Dick, leading a very strong ensemble including James Woods, Bob Hoskins, David Hyde Pierce, and Joan Allen, particularly impressive as Pat Nixon. One small complaint: the first name of actress Bridgette Wilson, last seen in Mortal Kombat and seen in a small role here, is misspelled as "Bridgitte" in both the opening and closing credits. Regardless, one of the best of the year.
The American President (PG-13) *** 1/2 Casino (R) **** Cry, the Beloved Country (PG-13) *** 1/2 Get Shorty (R) *** 1/2 GoldenEye (PG-13) *** Money Train (R) ** Nick of Time (PG-13) ** Sabrina (PG) **** Seven (R) ** 1/2 Toy Story (G) ****
'Til next year...
Happy 1996. -- Michael Dequina mrbrown@ucla.edu Visit Mr. Brown's Movie Site at: http://www.tripod.com/~MrBrown/
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