The Talented Mr. Ripley: Gay young man (*Mr.* Ripley) thinks it's better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody (isn't that the curse of the Amerikan Dream?), so he pretends to be the friend of a rich man's playboy son. . .the rich man bankrolls the gay poser, sending him to Italy hoping he will persuade his prodigal son to return home and end his profligate ways. But the gay poser is a talented (p)sycophant, and soon becomes the playboy's new best friend. Gay poser falls in love with hetero playboy, but falls even deeper in love with the expatriate euro-decadent lifestyle--so when playboy tires of gay hanger-on and tells him (in a brutally honest fashion) the party is over, a nasty little homoerotic squabble erupts, leaving playboy dead and gay poser free to assume playboy's identity. Poser is soon living the good life (opera, tailor-made suits, objets d'art, etc.) but his genuine past proves hard to escape--which necessitates a couple more murders. . .which leave gay poser sad and alone. . .which all just goes to prove there really is no such thing as a free lunch. This tale of an Amerikan boy whose out-of-control lusts ignite into full-blown flaming sociopathy is well-acted by a cast of young yanks and limeys, but the film's biggest *stars* are the beautiful Italian locales. ***

Tetsuo II: Body Hammer: Some movies are just not suited for sequels. For example, try to imagine Eraserhead II. And that's the problem with Tetsuo II. . .the first one was such a bizarre trailblazer, the sequel only seems like a cheap Japanese imitation. And given the fact both Tetsuos are Japanese, II seems all the more cheaper. The original Tetsuo had a nearly impossible to follow plot about a Japanese fella who had a factory inside his head and slowly became a gigantic heap of killer scrap iron. Plot didn't matter as the viewer enjoyed the ingenious special effects and strange sexual antics of the Iron Man. In Tetsuo II, the director makes the mistake of adding more plot (tedious meditation on human will and fascism) and subtracting effects and strange sexual antics. Japanese w/subtitles. 1.6 MB QT movie clip. **

There's Something About Mary: Perfect woman (thin, pretty, blonde, likes football and is seeking unambitious, beer-drinking male) is stalked by four losers. Funny film defaces the annoying Meg Ryan-Tom Hanks romantic comedy genre. ***

The Thin Red Line: To say this is a better movie than Saving Private Ryan is not saying much, and, in truth, not much can be said for TTRL. But The J Man acknowledges the effort of director and former philosophy professor Terrence Malick. Here is a failure, but unlike SPR, this is a noble failure. This Guadalcanal war story attempts to expose the interior narrative fictions which a half-dozen or so soldiers desperately cling to in order to survive the psychological devastation of war. To fully appreciate the noble failure this film is, one must understand (as Malick does) that a man in war is no longer under the illusion he is master of his own destiny. In war, man sees what he truly has been all along: a cosmic patsy. Only a fool, a mental incompetent would willingly enter a war because he believes it is better to die for one nationality or race than another. No doubt many such simpletons are bred by nationalist social indoctrination. Even in today's disintegrating America, there are many fools of the patriotic stripe. However, it is a Universal Law these *patriots,* were they ever to engage in real combat, would quickly be reduced to pants-soiling crybabies if they did not replace the phantasm of patriotism with something more psychologically valid. Regrettably, the mish-mash of alternatives this movie offers thru the interior monologues of its main characters (delusions of grandeur, New Age spiritualism, dime store nihilism) is barely more plausible than patriotism. Only one character seems genuinely motivated: the soldier who endures through the memory of his wife's body. The power of flesh cannot be denied. [Of course, the saving power of the born-again experience is never considered. Then again, why would a truly born-again child of God ever be caught dead in a war (Hebrews 11:13 - 16)?]. **

Thirteen: The fallout from the meltdown of the nuclear family burns thirteen-year-old Tracy. With her parents divorced (how Amerikan!), Tracy lives with her mother (dad is too busy worshipping at the idol of *career* to remain in his daughter's life). . .mom is a *recovering alcoholic,* as they say. . .she gives a half-hearted effort at being the *good mom*. . .mainly by nagging Tracy and her brother to do their homework. . .but mom's main interest is in mothering herself. . .her 12 step programs and amateur crisis interventions in the lives of her equally bewildered-by-life friends (including her AA boyfriend) take priority over her children. Feeling invisible at home and invisible at school, the starved-for-attention and somewhat bookish Tracy cheapens and reinvents herself to win the *friendship* of the most popular girl in school, Evie. . .what makes Evie so popular? She's the closest thing in junior high to melting pot Amerika's pin-up tramp, Jennifer Lopez. Tracy and Evie bond over a theft that allows them to go on a junior consumer's dream whore outfit shopping spree. . .soon Tracy and Evie are fast Amerikan *friends*. . .that means they shop together, steal together, get drunk together, slut it up together. . .and, most importantly, they leech off each other. . .Tracy uses Evie as her entrance to the *in crowd,* where she gets the attention (from being a junior harlot) she's so desperate for. . .Evie uses Tracy to get close to Tracy's mother. . .as Tracy's mom's amateur crisis interventionism strikes just the right chord with Evie, an abandoned child desperate for a pseudo-mommy. . . this seventh grade Mean Streets of a flick begins with a scene where Tracy and Evie, numb from inhalants, batter each other silly, leaving their pretty teenybopper faces full of cuts and bruises. . .Tracy and Evie are high and having a sick goof, but their brain damaging hijinks are an apt metaphor for the reality of their destructive relationship. . .so the movie begins here, and then a long flashback shows the genesis of this riot grrl's version of Itchy & Scratchy. . .the movie ends, as do many real life *friendships,* in a fit of back-stabbing and betrayal. It's all rather sleazy, a sort of cinematic Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Teenage Mental Disorders. . .they're all here: the eating disorders, the self-mutilation, the paranoia and narcissism. . .this is a lurid little movie. . .perverse, even. . .but that's not to say it's a *bad* movie. . .it would be, if it were exploitive. . .but it's not. . .look around at all the Larry Clark Kids in Amerika. . .no, this squalid tale of Little Miss misfits has the ring of truth. . .it's a grim (with moments of dark comic relief) chronicle of Amerika's grimy youth culture. . .unpleasant, but riveting. ****

Three Kings: This story of four American soldiers who try to steal some gold the Iraqi army has looted from Kuwait is a real mixed bag. Movie deserves full credit for painting the *Gulf War* as the moral quagmire it was and half credit for its half-successful portrayal of Iraqis as human beings. But in incorporating all the elements of a big action/comedy picture (there are rectal maps, exploding cows, nerf football bombs, the stereotypical dumb redneck soldier, the stereotypical devout-but-semi-hypocritical black Christian, the stereotypical madly ambitious news reporter), the movie's critique of U.S. foreign policy gets as washed out as the cinematographer's vision of the Iraqi desert. **

Thursday: One of the better entries into the Reservoir Dogs/True Romance ripoff genre. A reformed drug dealer lives a quiet life in a quiet suburban neighborhood with his surburbanly ambitious wife (blandly played by Paula Marshall, who has never quite lived up the promise she displayed in Hellraiser 3), and then, surprise!, his past catches up with him, when his old drug dealing buddy (fairly well played by Aaron Eckhart, who gave one of the greatest acting performances of all-time in In The Company Of Men) stops by on a Thursday and asks for a couple favors. Left with stolen heroin and stolen millions of dollars, the reformed dealer is soon battling a reggae hit man (in the movie's least successful sequence), a sociopathic succubus/moll clad in red rubber miniskirt (brilliantly played by the aging supermodel Paulina Porizkova), a redneck sadist and a corrupt cop (quietly but creepily played by the great Mickey Rourke). Sure, if you've seen one of these Tarantino knockoffs, you've seen them all. . .but this one is just shamelessly outrageous enough to keep you entertained. . .it's just the sort of movie you'd love to force the next kulture-kleaning politician to be forced to watch 24 hours a day, seven days a week until he/she is sufficiently desensitized to abandon his/her Kulture Krusade. ***

Time Code: Mike Figgis, who made the great Leaving Las Vegas, tries to earn a place in movie history with a ground-breaking, avant-garde art film. The film was shot in real time with hand-held digital cameras, then the screen was split into four squares, each square showing a single take of four interrelated stories, acted by a semi All-*Star* cast, who were allowed to improvise much of the action. Well, the movie is ground-breaking, all right. Ground-breakingly dull and ground-breakingly vapid. When you see the improvisational results of fine actors and actresses such as Holly Hunter, Stellan Skarsgard, Salma Hayek and Richard Edson, you understand the need for screenwriters. The cast's improvised story, about adultery in Hollywood, is embarrassingly trite, and Figgis has placed an additional and cruel burden upon the audience, by insisting the viewer watch four such cliched tales all at the same time. One further annoyance: what little humor the cast does try to introduce into the film is through the now thoroughly tired genre of *Hollywood Insider* satire. This is a cinematic experiment that should have been tested on animals, first. *

Traffic: A chubby White daughter of privilege (in fact, the daughter of the newly appointed Drug Czar) goes to rich kids' parties and discusses the vacuous nature of Amerikan life. . .and then decides the antidote to Amerikan sterility is freebased heroin. Soon we see the chubby White daughter of privilege under the naked Black buttocks of a ghetto drug dealer, who gets to sexually defile the chubby White daughter of privilege as long as he can keep her narcoticized. This crude interracial hysteria is just one of three simpleminded plots that simultaneously unfold in what was perplexingly billed as an intelligent examination of the *War on Drugs.* The other two comic book caliber plotlines concern a noble Mexican policeman surrounded by corruption and an elegant society lady who gets down and dirty after she recovers from the shock of learning her rich businessman husband' business is drugs. Nothing intelligent here, just three sophomoric stores which are badly edited. For example, in one scene, the noble Mexican cop is given the difficult assignment of tracking down an elusive drug cartel hitman. . .then in the very next scene, without any apparent detective work, the noble Mexican cop cruises into a gay bar, finds the hit man, flirts with him in an absurdly unconvincing manner, and then. . .and then, nothing. . .cut. . .the scene ends without showing how the gay-posing noble Mexican cop manages to actually make the arrest. . .but in the very next scene, the hit man is in custody. . .how? Did the noble Mexican cop make the arrest while fellating the hit man? Who knows? All three plotlines are chock full of holes. This isn't a movie, just a patchwork of cliches artily shot on grainy, light-blasted film stock. *

Training Day: Ha ha. . .what a crappy movie. . .this is like Bad Lieutenant for Dummies. . .Denzel Washington won an Academy Award for this nonsense (can anybody say *token?* Ha ha. . .this Award is even less merited than the one given to Marlee Matlin)? Maybe give him an Oscar for Best Over-Acting, or Worst Al Pacino/Tony Montana/Scarface-as-Cop Imitation. . .anyway, the thin story concerns a White boy rookie cop who wants to join Denzel's glamorous narcotics squad. . .White boy gets a one day tryout, and, of course, he is terribly terribly disillusioned to discover Denzel's wicked wicked ways. The dialogue mainly consists of Denzel calling White boy Ethan Hawke "my nigger" and "dog" over and over and over again. . .wow, really gives this lame movie some serious street cred. . .ha ha. The supporting cast features a lot of big names, but the only one worth mentioning is Snoop Doggy Dogg, who looks even sillier than usual playing a crippled drug dealer. . .this may be the first movie (and hopefully, the last) to feature a chase scene involving a man in a wheelchair. *

Twin Falls Idaho: A sad little freak show about Siamese twins who check into a Barton Fink-esque hotel to wait for the Grim Reaper to scythe them from each other and from life unto death. These are understandably melancholy twins, abandoned by their mother to live a solitary duet as strangers in a single-minded land. The twins, though in their late 20s, have a child-like innocence. Their physical deformity, which promotes interdependence and prevents integration into the uni-world, therefore also acts as a shied to protect them from the corrupting selfishness of uni-persons. What little plot there is to this three-legged character study involves a hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold (not very well acted by model Michelle Hicks) who enters into the twins' bi-world and causes a brief moment of chaos. An artfully filmed double portion of American Gothic. Movie Clips. ***

Ulysses' Gaze: Harvey Keitel *stars* as a Greek film director looking for meaning in life. Instead of seeking Christ, he begins an odyssey across the Balkans in search of 3 undeveloped reels of film shot by a film pioneer early in the 20th century. Along the way Keitel's character battles the forces of nature, time and memory. Then, at the end of his journey in war-torn Sarajevo, surrounded by death and destruction, as he sits in a bombed-out movie theater watching his holy grail 3 reels, he realizes man is his own worst enemy (d'oh!), living life as an endlessly repeated loop of the same mistakes. 3 hour long foreign film has a few spectacular scenes, but its tired, humanistic message makes it a dull and worthless journey. **

Unbreakable: Bruce Willis *stars* as stadium security guard David Dunn, who seems at-first-glance an ordinary joe suffering from a severe case of the blahs. Dunn wakes up sad every morning, and he's not quite sure why. As the lone survivor of a train wreck, he comes to the attention of Samuel L. Jackson's character, a comic book dealer born with a rare disease that causes very low bone density (his arms and legs break so easily and often, he is nicknamed *Mr. Glass*). After a lifetime studying comic books, Mr. Glass thinks the cartoonish myths of the comics are based on truths from mankind's distant past. Mr. Glass investigates David Dunn, and comes to believe Dunn is his exact opposite: a literally unbreakable human being, a superhero living in denial. He further theorizes that Dunn's sadness is the result of his not doing what he was born to do: be a superhero and save people. Like the director's earlier movie The Sixth Sense, this movie has a surprise ending. . .and it's a better film than The Sixth Sense, because the movie's theme--that most of humanity is depressed and out of sorts because their individuality and sense of identity have been obliterated by the rationality of the modern world--is closer to our everyday experience than The Sixth Sense's necromantically shaded posing of the eternal question "who am I?" ***

Uncle Sam: Horror cheapie about an American soldier who is killed by friendly fire during the *Gulf War* and then comes back to life on the 4th of July to murder a bunch of unpatriotic citizens while decked out in a full star-spangled, red, white and blue, top hat and tails Uncle Sam costume. Dumb story could have been elevated to dark parable had soldier been portrayed as tortured by guilt and motivated to kill his fellow Americans because they had brainwashed him into believing killing tens of thousands of Iraqis was in the *national interest.* Instead, soldier is presented as a sister-raping, wife-abusing alcoholic who kills, whether his victims be Iraqi or American, just for fun. *

Urbania: A strange, distasteful little film about the victim of a hate crime victimizing the assorted oddballs and airheads he encounters one urban legend-flavored night while he stalks his victimizer. It's all pretty ugly and paranoid, but it keeps you watching out of morbid curiosity. **

U-Turn: Sean Penn *stars* as an amoral loser stranded in the desert town of Superior, where all his plans for survival are upset by Superior's nutty, twisted citizens--people whom Penn's character considers his inferiors. This Oliver Stone brew of sex, violence, greed, intrigue, Native American mysticism and conspiracy (note the Masonic ring worn by Nick Nolte's deeply perverted character) asks the question: who survives in a survival of the fittest when none are fit? U-Turn is nearly a black comic masterpiece--but unfortunately, Stone takes the easy way out and offers no answer to the question posed, and the film concludes with a dull series of double crosses and suspected double crosses which leave all the main characters dead. Ennio Morricone, who scored the great Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns, does the music for this film. If only Stone has also borrowed one of Leone's brilliant, original and uncompromising endings. ***

The Virgin Suicides: Five teen girl sisters (cute, blonde girl-next-door types) kill themselves. The movie is narrated by a man who knew the sisters in school, and has spent 25 years trying to understand why. The narrator remembers the girls as Mysterious Creatures. . .Adolescent Goddesses fighting a desperate battle to survive their exile in suburbia. This would make for an interesting movie if the narrator's memories (which serve as the basis for the film's *action*) revealed fragile, delicate, ethereal teen cuties battered and bruised by their boorish, brutal Suburban Amerikan High School environment. But the events the narrator remembers paint the girls as typical teenagers. . .bored, restless, somewhat rebellious, curious about sex and mesmerized by pop kulture. The narrator even provides a motive for four of the five girls' supposedly mysterious suicides: after one of the sisters misses a curfew (and is debauched by the Homecoming King), all four sisters are pulled out of school and are imprisoned in their own home by their mother--an overly severe, overly prudish Catholic nutcase (poorly played by the once-glamorous, now-dumpy Kathleen Turner). I don't know, perhaps the filmmaker (Francis Ford Coppola's daughter) wanted to suggest that the narrator (and by extension, most men), just think females are mysterious because they are too blinded by the vagina and breasts to see that *girls* are really just as ordinary as *boys.* Whatever Coppola's daughter intended, she failed. . .unless she wanted to make a humdrum, quasi-philosophical teen sex romp. *

Vulgar: Flappy is a sad sack of a kiddie birthday party clown. . .everyone abuses the poor harlequin. . .neighborhood kids pelt him with water balloons, homeless people harass him and camp out in his car, even his own mother can't stand him, she belittles and emasculates Flappy every time he dutifully visits her in her nursing home. Adding to his numerous woes, the pathetic Flappy is also desperately short of cash. In an effort to maximize his earning potential, Flappy decides to diversify his clown portfolio. . .with literal pain-in-the-ass results. Flappy adds Vulgar to his repetoire. He figures Vulgar, a transvestite clown (the effects of Mama Flappy's ball-cutting surfacing?) , would be a great gag act at raunchy bachelor parties. Unfortunately for Flappy, the Candide of Clowns, Vulgar's first performance takes place in a seedy hotel room booked by a father-son-son trio of sexual deviants. The three pervs brutally rape the poor cross-dressing clown, leaving Flappy traumatized to the point of self-mutilation. Talk about the Tears Of A Clown! This *action,* and it is as luridly and grubbily depicted as it sounds, comprises the first half of the film. . .it's a dirty toilet bowl of a movie. . .whether that's the writer/filmmaker's intention is debatable, but if it is, The J Man compliments him, for then the first half of this queer clown nightmare means to aim gutter low, and it rarely misses its mark. But The J Man has to question the filmmaker's intent, because, unfortunately, he didn't have either the talent and/or the guts to shoot the whole film straight from the sewer. The second half of the movie turns from pure sadistic to pure silly, as the clown, in an amateurish and implausible *COPS* scenario, becomes an instant hero and scores his own tv kiddie show. After becoming rich-and-famous, Flappy must survive one last encounter with his gay tormentors (who gradually over the course of the film descend from 3 sinister all-in-the-family homo rapists to 3 stupid all-in-the-family homo stooges), which, sadly, and in what must be a testament to the filmmaker's mediocrity, features a *big shoot-out* and leaves Flappy to live happily ever after. The second half of the movie plays like a stupid joke, which makes The J Man wonder if the first half was supposed to be the same, but only seemed dementedly foul for the sake of foulness because of the filmmaker's ineptness. Who can be certain? What is certain is that the actor who plays Flappy (somebody by the name of Brian Christopher O'Halloran) invests his role with the same earnestness as Olivier did Henry the Fifth. . .if the movie was meant to be a joke, someone forgot to tell O'Halloran. Likewise, the writer/director of this strange tragicomedy, Bryan Johnson, may have forgot to tell himself the whole thing was a bad joke, as he appears in the movie as Flappy's one true friend, Syd, and plays the part with genuine compassion. All-in-all, a bizarre, unforgettable failure of a movie. **

The War Zone: This one is about as grim as it gets. An ugly movie about a teenage limey boy who discovers his father (the same actor who played the bad guy in Nil By Mouth ) is having sex with his sister. He watches (like the viewer), and then watches some more (like the viewer) until he can't take it any longer (like the viewer). Then he confronts dad, who, typically, denies it. So the boy sticks a knife in dad's gut. Is it a *good* movie? That's not really the question. The question is: why would anybody want to watch this? Morbid curiosity, I guess is how I would answer. **

The Waterboy: Though rarely funny, and frequently hateful [as in the vicious anti-White propaganda film Fargo], the ignorant White hick is a Hollywood staple. And in The Waterboy, we may have the ultimate in brain-damaged backwoods Whites: demented cajuns who dine on baby alligators and share their grotesque bayou shack with a mule. But The Waterboy is a worthy film, for it has affection for its hapless White boob (played by Adam Sandler), and views him as a societal underdog, and not as a racist oppressor, as most such films do when using the stereotype. And this is as it should be, for oppression springs not from *poor White trash,* but from the monied elites. The Waterboy is sort of like Carrie on steroids and LSD, though instead of telling the frightening story of a misfit teen girl who uses telekinesis to escape her domineering, insane *Christian* mother and visit revenge on her bullying peers, it tells the lunatic story of a 31 year old man who uses visualization techniques to to escape his domineering, insane *Christian* mother and to score victory, on the football field, over his bullying peers. The film is chock full of nutty, absurdist humor (involving, among other things, lawn mowers, Roy Orbison tattoos and high heels)--this is Jerry Lewis for the 21st Century. There are excellent supporting performances, particularly from Henry Winkler and the great Fairuza Balk. ***

When Night Is Falling: Female teacher at a Christian college has pet dog which runs away and dies. Teacher finds solace night in Christ, but in the arms (and legs) of a lesbian circus performer (?!). Low point in this celluloid abomination occurs when headmaster at Christian college confesses homophobic sins and begs teacher not to lose faith in Christ (when teacher ought to be the one begging God for forgiveness in Jesus' name). For obvious reasons of blasphemy, this absurd, trivial film (what could be more trivial--or retarded--than this movie's theme of *sexual liberation?* Only Christ liberates) cannot be recommended.

When The Cat's Away: Charming film examines the symbiotic relationship between a city and its people. In this case, a young woman living in Paris feels isolated and oppressed by the city and its inhabitants--until she loses her cat. Her search for the lost pet, aided by some of her melting pot neighborhood's oddballs, becomes a liberating experience as she discovers, though not until overcoming a few obstacles, the great beating heart of the city. French w/subtitles. 5.4 MB QT movie trailer. ****

Wilde: A happily married Man of Letters and father of two boys is seduced by a Canadian homosexual, thus beginning an ever downward spiral which ends in Oscar Wilde's sodomy conviction and a prison sentence of two years at hard labor. Wilde was a man greatly deceived by the vanities generated by his talent. His ruin was great. . .and for what? Here is (by way of Wisdom) our ode to Oscar: "With his much fair speech he caused Oscar to yield, with the flattering of his lips he forced Wilde/Oscar goeth after him straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks/Till a dart strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not it is for his life/His house is the way to Hell, going down to chambers of death." **

Wild Things: Four beautiful people connive for a fortune, then stab each other in the back. Dreary film tries to be both a mystery-thriller and a dark satire. . .but there is more mystery in Denise Richard's car wash scene see-through hot pants than in the movie's see-through plot, and the satire is completely lacking in irony, sarcasm and wit. Excepting Bill Murray as a strip mall lawyer, the acting is terrible. *

Wonder Boys: Fine, subtly offbeat (rare for Hollywood) film about middle-aged college English professor/author (nicely played by Michael Douglas) who is as stuck going-nowhere-fast in his personal life as he is in finishing his second novel. Action takes place over one crazy weekend as professor/author must deal with: 1) wife walking out, 2) woman whom he is having an affair with announcing she is pregnant, 3) smitten young co-ed student who turns into blunt literary critic, 4) pressure from bisexual hanging-onto-his-job-by-a-thread literary agent to complete novel and 5) enigmatic male student and budding young author who leads him on a wild goose chase fueled by student's kooky role-playing fictions. The weekend's mini-disasters (including a dog shooting and a stolen Marilyn Monroe relic) force the professor to come to grips with his slippery life. The happy ending is a little too happy, but otherwise an intelligent movie about the difficulty of deciding what to do with your life. ***

You Can Count On Me: This story of a single mom who feels a burden of responsibility for almost everyone she meets is almost a good movie. . .almost. The problem is: the single mom is a shade too codependent (example: she sleeps around because she feels sorry for guys. . .she's an overly empathetic harlot), the priest to whom she confesses her adulteries and fornication is a shade too forgiving (mom's behavior is sinful, but is sin really something worth dwelling on, he wonders/counsels), the single mom's brother is a shade too quick-tempered and a shade too irresponsible and a shade too judgmental (in a ridiculous scene, he wrongly and brutally condemns his 8 year old nephew [who is a shade too precocious to begin with] as a snitch), the bank manager/boss the single mom sleeps with is a shade too anally dictatorial (he issues orders to his staff to tone down the desktop backgrounds on their computer monitors to more business-appropriate hues). But the biggest problem with the film is the central relationship between single mom and her wayward brother. The two were orphaned at a young age, and big sis felt responsible for raising her lil bro. The script wants to suggest the sister has maternal feelings toward her brother, but the poorly written interaction between the two, heavy on the sister's weepy, cloying, desperate and even at times panting attempts to keep her brother under her wing, comes off instead suggesting incestuous longings. A shade too juvenile of an attempt to depict the messy lives of a fractured, dysfunctional Amerikan family. **

Movies A - B

Movies C - E

Movies F - I

Movies J - O

Movies P - S

Movies T - Z

Back to Home Page