Gouda-3

These comments address the recent release of Cinema Paradiso: The New Version (aka, the director's cut).

I've been a longtime fan of this film, and as early as 1994 when I lived in London rumors were circulating about an extended version of the film. Imagine my excitement when the DVD was released with both version of CP: the original theatrical release and the one with the added footage. However, after viewing the longer incarnation of CP, I'm afraid to report that the added bits softens, and in some cases deadens, what was so originally powerful about CP in the first place: the sense of unrequited or unexplained loss of love.

This new version sets out to explain much that in the original incarnation of the film was left tantalizingly unanswered. For example, Alfredo's sardonic speech about the guard falling in love with the princess ended with Alfredo saying he had no idea what the story meant. Left without a moral, the tale is potent precisely because its moral is uncertain. In this newer version, we see Toto having an epiphany and boldly declares the story's meaning. Suddenly, the piquant ambiguity of Alfredo's tale vanishes--as does much of the film's. We see Toto lose his virginity, and certain familiar conversations are expanded many, many minutes. Too many minutes, sometime.

Exposition and explanations are really the only new additions to this picture. Most important, and for some most alarming, is a very detailed discovery of what happened to Elena after she left Toto for the last time--the so-called expanded "third act." I was always intrigued by the image of an older woman at the end of the final credits of the original version--I just KNEW that was Elena! I had always thought I wanted to know what had become of her, hence my desire for this cut of the film. But now that I know, I think I'm better off not having known.

The elder Salvatore seemed more potent to me when his present life was wracked with deeply unsettling what-ifs. This version fills in all the blanks and leaves little to uncertainty, and to me this robs the film of its very essence: the notion that for many of us, life is filled with questions that will never be answered, can never be answered. This newer version now suggests the opposite, and makes the older Toto look like a morose stalker.

I'll keep this DVD because I treasure this film, despite the additions. Fortunately, the original version is included, so from this time forward I'll keep the DVD platter on Side B. I, for one, prefer the mystery of unanswered questions because that rings so much truer to life and the spirit of this masterpiece.

It was inevitable that with the box office of The Lost World somebody would try to squeeze at least one more episode out of the Jurassic Park franchise; and boy is this one squeezed, except that there's no blood left (pardon the pun). Every tired cliche has been trotted out once more, and you get the feeling like the writers even felt bored of the whole process. Even the music seems stale: the grandeur of John Williams' score sounds lifeless and canned, totally drained of wonder.

I don't think a plot rehash is necessary, because what there is of a plot is quickly dispatched with so that we can get what we paid for: cool looking dinosaurs, lots of screaming, running around, last minute escapes, and special effects galore. Suffice it to say that when Sam Neill is tempted back to the dino islands by a huge wad of cash via William H. Macey, it's as if you're REALLY seeing Sam Neill the actor being handed wads of cash by the JP people, his reluctance to do a sequel overwhelmed by all the good films he could do with this paycheck. In fact, you pretty much know who's going to survive based on salaries in this movie. And the rest of the film has a similar taint to it: gouts of money thrown at the film to make it look decent and fistfuls thrown at the audience in the hopes that the audience will throw money back. It's only partially works.

The film starts out quite well, actually. There's some suspense, a child in peril, and a bickering divorced couple. And once we get the requisite stranding on the spooky island, there's quite a bit of tension built up. But soon all the neato creatures get introduced early on and JP3 rapidly uses up its arsenal of tricks, and when the film ends its more like a tree falling in the forest, you almost don't even notice although the thud is resounding.

For JP movies I am willing to toss a lot out the window for a good thrill: take away character development, pacing, plot continuity even, but at least exhilerate me! Alas, JP3 does none of these things. See it if you must, but consider yourself warned.

At the risk of sounding overly bombastic, "Moulin Rouge" is the best film I've seen all year, perhaps the best one I've seen in over a year. It is operatic in the best sense of the word, being at once massively outlandish and deeply personal. It is clear that a lot of people took career risks in choosing this film, and although "Moulin Rouge" may not rack up a huge box office, I think this film will become a classic alongside his other two films "Strictly Ballroom" and "Romeo + Juliet."

In the showing of "Moulin Rouge" I saw last week, at least 5 people walked out. At the same time I heard audience members audibly gasping at the films visuals and talking back to the screen. The source of these strong reactions? Baz Luhrmann's confidence in his garish cinematic vision and the commitment his actors have in him. The cast fills their roles with relish, even when the entire scene totters on the edge of overkill--but oddly enough, it is the focus that sets "Moulin Rouge" apart from other films these days. Whereas some actors sleepwalk through their roles as they collect their paychecks, everything about "Moulin Rouge" is done in earnest.

This movie is the anti-"Pearl Harbor," because instead of being a hodgepodge of market-tested ideas, "Moulin Rouge" presents a bold vision and dares the audience to accept or reject it. I, for one, accepted it with delight. A telling comparison: Luhrmann has Nicole Kidman and Ewen MacGregor sing the film's love song. Very daring. For "Pearl Harbor" Michael Bay chose Faith Hill. Very safe. Too safe. Can you imagine Ben Afleck belting out "There You'll Be"?

"Moulin Rouge" glitters with such bold decisions. It is a sumptuous feast for ear and eye featuring gorgeous costumes, intricate sets (Nicole Kidman's boudoir in a gigantic elephant is a case in point), and outlandishly choreographed dance numbers are paraded with frenetic relish. And the music, the MUSIC! As you probably know by now, Luhrmann has thrown into his period piece a collage of musical snippets from, among many bits, "The Sound of Music," Madonna, The Police, and Elton John. In most cases, no one song gets performed without intersplicing. Witness Luhrmann's audacity: the opening number includes a melding of Labelle's "Lady Marmalade" with Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." And here's the spooky part: it works.

The entire movie plays this way, and for the most part it works. Most surpising is that "Moulin Rouge" has a solid, deeply sincere emotional core. Although the film professes to be about love, I'd add that it is equally about loss. The Moulin Rouge is a playground where adults pretend they are children with the added spice of sensuality.

All the performances are excellent, but the hidden gem is Jim Broadbent as Zidler. Broadbent for years has been doing majestically understated supporting work, from "Brazil" to "Enchanted April" to "Topsy-Turvy." In "Moulin Rouge" he manages to be both repulsive and endearing. His spirited rendition of "Like a Virgin" is classic. Too bad it's not on the soundtrack.

Expect to be overwhelmed by "Moulin Rouge" in the most unexpected, delightful ways. It will make you wonder why other films can't or won't dare to be that bold.