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Sundance's Kids
By Richard von Busack
The independent film circuit is small enough that even if you stay put,
you'll get everything worthwhile they get on the film festival, except
for the eye strain, the hangovers and the inflated hotel bills. Opening
this week are three independent movies: a crime story, a small family
movie, and a comedy, and all were involved at the Sundance Film
Festival in Utah. The Brothers McMullen won the grand prize this year;
it opens on the same day with the not unTarantino-like The Usual
Suspects, which itself was directed by Brian Singer and written by
Christopher McQuarrie, the 1993 Grand Jury Prize winners for Public
Access, (also one of the highlights of that year's Cinequest) Lastly,
a making-a-movie movie Living in Oblivion, another much talked about
offering at the Utah festival this year.
Living in Oblivion has a wispy subject, but director Tom DiCillo,
former cameraman for Jim Jarmusch, gives it some heft. (Previously,
DiCillo was Jim Jamusch's camera man and the director of a forgettable
exercise in style called Johnny Suede, which starred Brad Pitt; Pitt
was presumably not the model for Chad Palomino, the gone-Hollywood
actor pilloried in it.) As director Nick Reve, Steve Buscemi, with a
beard, long hair and a suffering expression, looks like Don Knotts on
the Cross as he deals with the numerous pitfalls of non-union
filmmaking. Living in Oblivion is simply one of the funniest film of
the year, but it's also an inside look at how low-budget movies are
made.. It would be greatly useful movie for film students, particularly
in the early scenes demonstrating most, but not everything, that could
go wrong during a shoot. Dream sequence--the word "reve" is French for
"dream"--are layered in to the plot, as are the scenes from the movie
within a movie (alternating in black and white and color, to avoid
confusion)' it all builds up to a classic punchline involving a
nervous actress, an antique smoke machine.and an aggrieved dwarf, the
last of whom is sick of having his person exploited as a metaphor. (I
suppose this kind of sizeism does happen all too often. Richard Zanuck,
ex-20th Century Fox head, was quoted in John Gregory Dunne's 1967 book
The Studio as ordering up a little person for a movie he was making:
"There's something insidious about a midget," Zanuck explained. )
Living in Oblivion shows of all of the tempers that have to be
stroked, all of the bad coffee, the non-Teamster transportation, the
tantrums and terrible morals of the actors (most of the women on the
set are in heat over the star, a slumming Don Johnson-like hambone
named Chad Palamino, played by James LeGros) Still, the film is mixed
with a sense of admiration for movies, contrasting the difference
between dream and reality just as it melds the affectionate and the
abrasive
There's a running gag in Living in Oblivion about how the lead
actress (Catharine Keener) was best known for a shower scene in a
Richard Gere movie. After seeing --- play the youngest of The Brothers
McMullen, I thought I knew who wrote that shower scene --- is
supposed to be a screenwriter, though he never puts pen to paper, and
doesn't go to the movies or read any books. The Brothers McMullen are
three Irish-American Catholic New York suburban siblings, gathered back
together under one roof temporarily. Jack, the eldest, is very married,
has just turned 30, and is under pressure to produce a child ("I want
a family, Jack," his wife urges him, which is the kind of statement
that would induce impotence in even Senator Packwood.) During this
crisis, he's lured--no, pulled--into an affair by Ann, one of his
pupils. As the film's bad girl ---'s Anne is a ringer for one of the
greenish vamps from an Expressionist painting. Middle brother Patrick
is having his own troubles, since he himself is facing a possible
marriage with his girlfriend, who is urging--no, pulling again, him
into going to work for her dad. The youngest is untrustworthy of women,
probably because of the above. There's no distance to the family;
you're meant to laugh indulgently at them throughout like sitcom
characters.
The Brothers McMullen is almost as slick as television; it
handles a few thorny topics gingerly, before setting them back down
again safely. Abortion, of fidelity, of faith, of heavy drinking, of
family violence (the youngest toasting his father as "child-beating,
wife-abusing alcoholic") are touched but then dropped. This may not be
a character study, instead of an issues movie, but these characters
have few inflections and the women's roles have even less. The
Brothers McMullen is a fatal combination,. sincerity with
timidity---this is wan, from the heart.
By contrast, but not only by contrast, the fairly heartless The Usual
Suspects is an improvement. Brian Singer's Public Access was a
highlight at the 1993 Cinequest, and his new movie is urgent and
exciting, down in wide screen, tasty lurid photography a tricky plot,
and metaphysical overtones. A high-priced gang embarks on a series of
crimes that stepladder one into another: the theft of a parcel of
emeralds, that leads into another jewel theft that goes wrong, and
finally slides the crew into a an assault on a heavily guarded ship,
the aftermath of which opens the movie. The Usual Suspects doubles
back from the climax, to a story that which becomes more fantastic as
it is revealed. It involves an unseen master criminal, a modern version
of Sherlock Holmes's nemesis Moriarity. You'd have to believe the
central conceit to enjoy it, which maybe an easy matter, millenium
panic being inescapable now . And personally I loved the Bond films for
Blofeld, the man with the white Persian cat. Who knows how many
Napoleons of crime are skulking around? Is Robert Maxwell really dead?
Maybe Orson Welles faked his death, also; when we get a glimpse of The
Usual Suspect's Moriarity figure Keyser Susa in a long shot, he's
wearing the raincoat and fedora of Harry Lime, Welles's diabolical
villain from The Third Man.)
If you're sharp, you'll be ahead of the film on a few points, but I
doubt if anyone could see how it comes out, thanks to not one but two
untrustworthy narrators: the crippled, passive-aggressive confidence
man "Verbal" (another superb job of acting by Kevin Spacey) and the
glinting-eyed police detective Chazz Palminteri. The rest of the cast
is also fine: they include Kevin Pollak, very good as a garden variety
thug. Gabriel Byrne grim as the leader Keaton, William Baldwin, who
sports the obscene little bangs of the psycho (as seen on Alan Arkin's
forehead in Wait Until Dark), Giancarlo Esposito seems to be part
of the same supernatural FBI bureau that employs agents Cooper, Mulder
and Scully; perhaps best of Peter Postlethwaithe, as Koyabashi, Keyser
Susa's polite familiar. I wish there was some way to work more women
into these tough movies; Singer undercuts the taste he showed by hiring
Suzy Amis (The Ballad of Little Jo) by not giving her anything to work
with. Still, The Usual Suspects keeps its fascination until the very
end.
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