Well, today turned out better than yesterday, with shorter lines and more promising films. The big "centerpieces" of the day were John Sayles' Men with Guns and L.A. Confidential. While I'm not seeing either this evening, I may catch Men with Guns later in the festival. L.A. Confidential, which is being released domestically on September 19, will have to wait until I get home. It's not a priority.

Flipping through all the schedules and program books, it has become abundantly clear that I'm not going to be able to see even half of the films I would like to. Tonight was a prime example of sacrifice. To see Loved, I had to give up on Love, Math, and Sex. With the exception of last night, it will almost certainly be like that all week.

The four movies I saw today have virtually nothing in common. Maybe if I was really clever, I could put together daily "programs" with movies on similar themes, then write an insightful column on how alike or different they are, but it would take someone with better organizational powers than mine to come up with such a minor miracle. It's difficult enough for me to skip from one theater to another, write this update, and get at least a couple of meals in the process. All film festivals have the capacity to be daunting - this one moreso than most.

Anyway, on to the movies.

Marquise (France, 1997, dir: Vera Belmont) is, in many ways, what the average film-goer has come to expect from French cinema - a lavish costume drama. This is in no ways a staid and dreary film, however. Belmont directs with a keen sense of the absurd that, at times, almost recalls the skits of Monty Python (watch for a wedding scene early in the film). Marquise is a fictionalized account of the rise to prominence of a 17th century actress, Marquise du Parque, a member of Moliere's acting troupe who became the mistress of Racine and a regular at the court of King Louis XIV. Director Belmont equates Marquise to Marilyn Monroe, and it's not hard to see the similarities - both talents burned brightly in life, then lived on well past their deaths. The film itself is enjoyable, if somewhat unsurprising in content. There are solid character arcs, nice scenery, and couple of memorable lines of dialogue, but, aside from Sophie Marceau's scintillating performance as the title character, there's little here to lift Marquise to a level above satisfying entertainment. For those in search of a French costume drama featuring a little comedy, a little skin, a little history, a portion of tragedy, and quite a bit of romance, Marquise is for you.
Rating: out of

Heaven's Burning (Australia, 1997, dir: Craig Lahiff) is a road movie in the era of Tarantino: energetic, quirky, and unashamedly violent. Had this film been made ten years ago, it would have been a lot more original than it is now, when if appears like Bonnie and Clyde infected by Pulp Fiction-itis. Still, despite that, I still have to admit to liking the film. It has one of the best first reels of any film this year, and, although the bulk of the movie doesn't live up to the promise of the early moments, Heaven's Burning nevertheless manages to engage the attention. Despite its sometimes graphic depiction of violent behavior, few members of the audience will walk out on this one. The film stars Youki Kudoh as Midori, a seemingly-timid Japanese newlywed on her honeymoon in Australia. It turns out that her demeanor isn't what it seems to be, and, in order to escape from the rigidly-structured lot of a Japanese wife, she fakes her own kidnapping. Things start going wrong, however, when she is taken hostage (for real) in a bank robbery orchestrated by Colin (Russell Crowe) and several gun-wielding thugs. Soon, Midori and Colin have been thrown together, and are on the run from at least three different groups. Anyone familiar with the road picture genre will find plenty of familiar elements here, including offbeat characters and tangential subplots. Heaven's Burning's end doesn't equal the beginning (in fact, the final fifteen minutes tend to drag), but, as always in this kind of film, the trip from point A to point B offers enough entertainment to make it worth going along.
Rating: out of

The Edge (USA, 1997, dir: Lee Tamahori) has amazing credentials, with names like Anthony Hopkins (actor), Alec Baldwin (actor), David Mamet (screenplay), and Lee Tamahori (director) involved. The good news is that this apparently is not intended to be a serious film. The bad news is that no one seems to have let Tamahori in on the joke. The Edge is a fun movie, but it's not fun because it's well-made or especially interesting. In fact, one of the most enjoyable aspects of watching this film is trying to spot all the continuity gaffes, plot holes, and assorted contrivances. The basic storyline involves three men trapped out in the wilderness after a plane crash. To survive, they must battle the elements, including a very hungry, very grumpy bear. There are laughs aplenty to be had (some of which are intentional - including a great line about lawyers - and some of which are not). Hopkins and Baldwin get into the mood, delivering Mamet's dialogue in just the right tone. But Tamahori can't make up his mind whether this is supposed to be a straight satire or a more traditional adventure, and, as a result, it's only mildly successful as either.
Rating: out of

Loved (USA, 1997, dir: Erin Dignam) is an interesting if somewhat uninvolving motion picture that explores the relationship between love and pain (both emotional and physical). With a strikingly effective cast that includes Robin Wright Penn and William Hurt, the film plumbs a number of potentially-fascinating issues, but does so at the expense of the characters. None of the individuals populating Erin Dignam's film has much of an identity - multidimensionality is not a goal. They are mouthpieces for ideas, which limits our ability to identify with them on an intimate level. Nevertheless, certain scenes are powerful in their own right, and there's no doubt that the film has the ability to provoke some interesting post-screening discussion. For reasons beyond my control, I was unable to attend the full screening, so no rating or final review will be forthcoming at this time.

© 1997 James Berardinelli