Ivar Zeile

After programming and managing the Student Union Theatre for three years, the opportunity to test my pen with film criticism materialized with an opening for the position of Film Critic with the Daily Utah Chronicle, the substantial newspaper that serviced the student population at the University of Utah. I had no idea what I was getting into in attempting to write about film, but by that point I considered myself fairly versed in film culture and with a strong desire for further immersion and expansion. Writing about films, as well as books and events on occasion, seemed like fun and an opportunity to not only promote the art house venues I was working but also the opportunity to test my wit and desire to skewer the Hollywood system. Having my material legitimately published and perhaps finding an audience were also possibilities too hard to pass up. My time with the Chronicle led to industry press junkets including meeting/interviewing Jamie Lee Curtis for the Blue Steel  film debut, as well as  further writing assignments for Tower Prevue and SLUG. It also coincided with the transition in name from US Film Festival to Sundance, straddling the most fascinating years of the country’s most prestigious and influential film festival. During this period, I was still going by my first name John. Shortly after I left the Chronicle I also experienced a momentous transition to my middle name Ivar, which I have stuck with ever since. Looking back at this writing is quite a wild ride, defining a time when culture was evolving on so many fronts, a lead into so many defining moments later in my life and career and many films long forgotten. The articles are in chronological order from most recent to first.

'Skinny Legs and All' not par for Robbins' course

Writer's philosophy of 'intelligent hedonism' overwhelms plot in latest work

May 24th 1990

Reading for pleasure is a concept that escapes the average student, what with all the studying and socializing that is mandated by peers. 

Of course, there are certain authors who allow students the ability to shove midterms, beer, even girl and/or boyfriends to the backburner and focus attention on their latest or greatest works.

Tom Robbins is such an author, and after scouring bookstore shelves for the past two years, his new novel, Skinny Legs and All, finally made its way to my anxious hands.

Patience carries no guarantee for adequate return; with his track record, I expect everything from Robbins' pen to be no less than sheer genius, but Skinny Legs and All is really just par for the course. Well, maybe just a few strokes under.

As with any of Robbins' novels, the latest is a thoroughly unique and engaging experience that exudes style unmatched on any literary front. For all its cleverness, however, the intent and ending are a bit of a departure. The book heads toward a climax that seems impossible to resolve and takes the easy way out. It's still fun as hell, though, and steeped with more humor and philosophy than any of his other works.

The extremely pretentious prelude gives way to a clever story involving many diverse and interesting characters, not all of whom are human. The main focus is a woman (Robbins wouldn't have it any other way) by the name of Ellen Cherry Charles, a waitress trying to become an artist, and sometimes vice versa. She's married to Boomer Petway, a fun-loving welder type who somehow becomes an artist, even though he knows or cares nothing about that line of work.

On their way to New York City to find Ellen's fortune, the two haphazardly leave a few important items in a cave somewhere in Wyoming (or Utah, who knows). There is no need to describe why they were in the cave, but the acoustics of their activity happen to awaken some ancient artifacts residing there. Good thing, because the painted stick and conch shell must travel to Jerusalem and participate in Armageddon.

Since the objects have been left by their owners, they invite the spoon, can of beans and sweatsock along for the ride, made possible by techniques unknown to humans, as well as most objects. You see, inanimate objects are really in a constant state of motion, it's just so fast we can't see it. If used properly, this sensation can produce movement, thus explaining about 90 percent of the world's unexplained phenomena.

The objects eventually meet up with Ellen in New York, unbeknownst to her. She's too occupied with her job at Isaac and Ishmael's, the first (and undoubtedly only) restaurant owned by a Jew and an Arab. The restaurant is notorious because of the terrorist attacks that periodically occur there, but it doesn't really become popular until the installation of the area's largest television screen,

Business becomes even better with the addition of a young dancer, Salome, especially once she agrees to perform the “Dance of the Seven Veils.” Unfortunately, the event is to occur at the same time as the Superbowl, a coincidence that could only lead to diabolical tragedy.

That's just a small sample of the intricate plot and players. There are other characters, such as Ellen Cherry's parents, and her Uncle Buddy Winkler, a religious zealot bent on speeding up the Second Coming / end of the world, not to mention Turn Around Norman, a performance artist who rotates 360 degrees without moving a muscle (a big hit with the traveling objects). Allusions are made toward our very own vice president as well as the subtleties of pop music, and the word AIDS pops up one too many times.

The coming of doomsday is hardly a light topic, yet under the guise of the seven veils, patiently removed by Robbins, it’s a downright jolly affair. As the lunacy steers toward an unknown, cataclysmic end-of-the- world scenario, the actual sense of the finite is construed through the truths of the seven veils, each symbolic of a section in the book. Armageddon is averted in the end, leaving us with lessons in the ultimate truths of life.

Robbins has always tried to make the reader aware of pieces of his philosophy but usually in a manner that is overshadowed by his wild plots. This time, philosophy is at the forefront, and it makes the telling of the story a bit insignificant. The speculation at the end is forced upon the reader almost as haughtily as that of the religious baboons whom Robbin constantly rebukes.

I suspect that most people who enjoy Robbins' books don't need the reiteration of the ideas presented, although acknowledging the existence of a compatriot is always soothing (and rarely so enjoyable). 

Robbins' philosophy works best within the intricacies of the plot, much as in his earlier stories. As the elements unfold, he occasionally makes a forceful point, strong because of the context. When he assails the modern artist or organized religion or pleads the necessity of different strokes for a better society, it's with a verve that is sorely lacking when most ponder life's questions. The context might not be totally realistic or all-encompassing, but the statements are clearly negotiable.

Beyond the affirmation of life’s most pressing issues lies the style in which they are presented. This is fiction, of course, and it is presented in a manner that captivates and stuns the reader. Robbins has been blessed with the gift of diction, and his words are a joy to the mind. Anyone can describe an event or an idea, but few can do so with such skill: "If there existed in the universe any display with a stronger guarantee of igniting the male libido, it had yet to be cataloged." A typical Robbins phrase like this is a simple play on construction, and the effect is magical.

Robbins is at his literary best when dealing with sex, taking an approach that somehow comes across as totally unoffensive. "Whose name had she called aloud when she straddled the white pony of orgasm?" His description of the act and the wanting of the act of sex is always hilarious, and more than anything promotes his philosophy of intelligent hedonism.

While his style of writing remains constant across the breadth of his work, Robins' presentation tends to change considerably. Skinny Legs and All reads like a cross between his last two works, Jitterbug Perfume and Still Life With Woodpecker. Even though it encompasses most of his philosophy, this is hardly the novel to initiate the reader to his prose. In conjunction with his other work though, it proves to keep his total resume as accomplished as a writer can get. 

Soviet director's film text argues moviemaking is artistic medium

Sculpting in Time by Andrey Tarkovsky, University of Texas Press, Austin

January 25, 1990

"Reading and rereading books on the theory of cinema, I came to the conclusion that these did not satisfy me, but made me want to argue and put forward my own view of the problems and the objectives of film making” -Andrey Tarkovsky

Tarkovsky's basis for writing his treatise on film making shows ambition and foresight on his part. For readers, especially those who have engrossed themselves in the Soviet director's masterpieces, the impetus for such a book is a blessing and a necessity. Sculpting in Time serves not only to enhance the meaning behind Tarkovsky's work, but to clarify the position of film making as an artistic medium.

From the time he was born in the Soviet Union in 1932 until his death in Paris in 1986, Tarkovsky was able to complete only seven films. This factor was apparently a constant struggle for Tarkovsky, but it is one that possibly helped his work more than it hindered it. He was able to put a great deal of thought into each picture, as well as realize his overall direction and philosophy in the field.

All the late director's works are intensely personal and filled with some of the most haunting and beautiful imagery ever put on film. Tarkovsky, often labeled poetic, strove to bring motion picture out of the depths of escapist entertainment and into the realm of high art. He begins his book with an expose on the goal and notion of art in general, which relates equally as well to film as it does to painting, literature and poetry.

Whether his theory of art can be regarded as absolute, Tarkovsky's connection to motion picture is clear and solid. With examples from his own work and from the work of those he denotes as masters of film, Tarkovsky forms this link. He believes art is supposed to communicate to people; a film is able to do so by capturing moments in time.

The progression and rhythm of a film reveal the creator's feelings and expressions, but not in a single sense. Instead, the work is open to interpretation. Just as in other artistic media, cinema pieces cannot be judged as good or bad. If a piece leaves the viewer cold or unmoved then it has failed for a single viewer, but not necessarily for all.

These basic premises make up the structure of Tarkovsky's theory. He stresses the fact that his ideas do not apply to all films, but that they should be the foundation for the filmmaker. Rather than tossing ideas out as possibilities, Tarkovsky uses tone that is quite certain. He said this is what his films have been based on, and cinema is able to achieve such a nature.

Tarkovsky's more general ideas about the field are the most interesting and concrete. He establishes the goal of filmmakers in relation to their audiences, noting that the pursuit of mass appeal is undesirable. Those who appreciate art have their distinct likes and dislikes. Accordingly, filmmakers will have specific audiences that appreciate their work, a theory that has been proven by the author.

Along these lines, Tarkovsky extinguishes the idea of the film genre. The mark a director should leave on a film makes it his or her own, regardless of the subject. In this way the director is the genre, assuming the more suitable title of style. The director creates this style through the rhythm of the editing, which takes on a highly elusive quality.

Tarkovsky's thoughts on the role of the actor are the most stunning, especially if you relate movies to Hollywood. He feels the actor should shape the role as outlined by the director, but must do so in a blind manner. Each scene is a separate entity and must not be biased by the outcome or further events. To achieve realism, the actor should not know what is to take place later on in the script. 

Tarkovsky expresses many unique yet wholly logical theories throughout his book. Even if you don't agree with his philosophy, his work is at least thought-provoking and direct to its context and alleged history. Tarkovsky's world of film is utterly different from what people consider to be normal cinema, but it is considered far more worthwhile by many viewers as well as critical authorities.

I must admit that it's a trying experience to sit through a Tarkovsky film because his style is very slow and highly symbolic. But it can be considered a challenge. Whether viewers are able to reach a conclusion from one of his films, they can sense the spiritual energy that Tarkovsky speaks of. His writing, however, is fairly straightforward and very absorbing. Sculpting in Time serves not only as a companion for the director's work but as a guide for filmmakers and intelligent film viewers.

Here's how to pick a flick for some spring-break relaxation

The words "spring break" are often the two most beautiful in a college student's vocabulary, furnishing images of freedom. relaxation and drunken revelry in a distant land.

Like many fellow students, it’s always been my tradition to leave Salt Lake City over spring break, in search of excitement in a big city where relatives or cheap tequila happen to reside. As the excitement builds, however, the dollars tend to peel faster than your sun-drenched skin, and you realize you'll be eating crazy bread for the next two months.

The big question is how to avoid all of this and still come away proud and enlightened. The answer lies in one of Salt Lake City's finest resources: the movie theater.

Let's face it: If you go somewhere interesting for spring break, you're not going to pay the seven bucks or more for a flick, even if your concept of an evening on the town focuses on seeing a film. We in Salt Lake City can still relish the student discount, one of the last of dying benefits. When your friends come back from Fort Lauderdale, begging for food and ibuprofin, you can say, "Sorry, I just spent my last $3.50 at the cinema." 

What an option, eh?

If you do set your mind to watching the shows that finals possibly negated, you'll want to make the most of your time and money. A few tips on the fine art of selecting a good film are absolutely necessary.

Luckily, spring break occurs in one of the safer months for finding good movie entertainment. In March, practically every film and its ad carry the wondrous Academy Award-nomination label. The films with real value tend to be released early in the year in order to garner the nominations: the trick here is to figure out which movie is guaranteed to sweep the awards, and then go see the others.

Any film with more than seven nominations is a shoe in to win and will undoubtedly haunt theaters and video shelves for months on end. It's far better to catch the longshots while you still can, especially since man of them made it to our city only because they were bestowed nominations. Driving Miss Daisy is a fine film that embodies American ideals, but other films like My Left Foot, Henry V and Enemies, a Love Story are slightly higher in cinematic achievement and won’t be around for long.

If you don’t trust the daring academy, chances are you'll want to find out what your favorite critic has to say. More selective viewers choose this option, if not for the solemn truth, then at least to figure out what they're seeing before they see it.

Of course, reading a review takes time and energy, which will be all but spent by spring break. That's why caption critiques are printed along with movie ads. Laying your money on brief quotes, however, is like cheating off your neighbor in an exam; you better know a little about them before you put your fate in their hands.

Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel are the kings of this game. In watching their television review show, it’s often apparent that the two are different as night and day. When they do agree on a movie, its status is supposedly guaranteed. When you look through the paper, all you have to do is spot the “two thumbs up" sign and rest assured that viewing pleasure awaits.

Even such a definite system tends to leave doubts sooner or later. For example, the duo has recently discovered the concept of adjectives. Whereas a movie used to just be "thumbs up" or "two thumbs up," now it can also be "two very enthusiastic thumbs up” or “two jubilant thumbs up.” Maybe "two thumbs way up" means they left the theater so quickly they had to hitch a ride home. If the movie only achieved a straight "thumbs up,” could it mean that they knocked around in the bar for a few hours before the show? You really have to watch out for these uncertainties when selecting a film.

Fortunately, Siskel and Ebert aren't the only critics quoted in an advertisement. Movies with more going for them tend to provide at least one definite concrete statement that the viewer can trust. A safe bet usually involves some kind of time comparison, like "the best film of the year" or "the best film of the decade." If the movie boasts "the best friggin' film of all eternity!!!" it's probably worth a look, especially if so noted by more than one source.

Other quotes must be reckoned with much more discrimination. What exactly does it mean when a CBS affiliate claims, "You need a seatbelt to watch this one” or Rex Reed cries, "More fun than a convention of cuckoo clocks"? Watch out for fragmented sentences also, such as the one which accompanied the impeccable Tango and Cash. According to the illustrious Kathy Huffhines of the Detroit Free Press, "For anyone who likes cop buddy movies………….it's big.” 

The most foul trend in advertising films recently surfaced with Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, where all of the comments about the film were made up. In this case, it was justified in order to disguise the fact that the movie was so devilishly good that no one would admit it. Somehow though, I don't think the new film Madhouse uses the technique for the same reasons.

Another less evil technique is to piece together various comments to create a story of critiques. Not only are they actual quotes, but you can check down below to see who said what. With this system, the movie is fun and challenging before you've even seen it!

Alas. America's most avid moviegoers are the ones who believe you should never trust a critic. That's why eight of the top 10 grossing movies on any given week carry no salutations on their ads. It's not because the target audience is mostly illiterate or that critics won't bother to review them; it's because these viewers don't need to be told what to watch. They know what's in store in a film like Hard to Kill or Nightbreed.

Why the hell would someone want to go see a film about some guy’s left foot anyway?

Spring Films Fill Wide Range of Moviegoing Tastes

A flood of movie stormed their way into town over spring break, creating one of the most diverse markets Salt Lake City has ever contended with. Movies such as Lambada and its twin The Forbidden Dance brought the excitement to a feverish pitch, with Pretty Woman and Blind Fury trailing close behind. If that’s not exactly your bag though, there were others that might just be worthy of being called films.

Land of the Flies / Columbia Pictures/ Castle Rock

The new maxim in the industry these days claims if a book  becomes a bestseller,  then it's worth adapting to the screen. If the book is eventually regarded as a Classic, it can be made into a film over and over, in intervals of 20 years or more.

Such is the case with Lord of the Flies, the second attempt to do justice to Sir William Golding's marvelous social statement written in 1954. It’s very difficult to find any real reason why this story has spurred interest all of the sudden, although it is interesting to note that the executive producer Lewis Allen was also the producer of the original film version in 1963.

It is possible that the story is only now truly entrenched in the education of most Americans: almost everyone I know has read it  at some point. The original version isn’t exactly readily available to those interested, either. There's also the fact that the story is so strong it almost begs to be witnessed on screen.

Regardless of why it's been rehashed, the new Lord of the Flies does seem rather fresh in comparison to much of the recent film market. Unfortunately it is not the incredible movie experience that some might expect.

The story concerns a group of military-school children who become stranded on a remote island. Conflict is unleashed as the kids must decide between survival instincts over the long term or the short term. Two leaders arise, with the balance eventually weighing heaviest on the side of the hunters. Both sides are trying to achieve discipline, but their tactics are radically different.

It’s a wonderfully simple drama that is the basis for human existence throughout history. Reducing the scope to a group of children on an island makes the breeding of human nature all the more chilling, and it's really hard to do wrong with such strong material. Under the direction of Harry Hook, the new film adequately captures the ideas that Golding exposed, yet it also reveals factors that are almost inconceivable.

The pace is very quick and methodical, probably because we are expected to know the story and find it easy to make the right connections. Occasionally something will occur that doesn’t really link up with anything else, which muddles the continuity. The only surprises to be found lie in the up-to-date mannerisms of the youths. which are almost too obvious. The juxtaposition of this attitude with actual story is very uneven and would probably have worked better at one of the extremes.

The photography and acting are definitely the high points of the film. It's often amazing how wonderful children can act on screen, but in this case it’s simply a matter of the right faces playing the right roles. Just by looking at some of these young actors, one can sense how their personalities are formed or why they are manipulated. It's not exactly inspiring or moving, but it is enjoyable.

The Handmaid's Tale /Cinecom

A film that is bound to inspire or baffle many is The Handmaid's Tale, based on the novel of the same name by Margaret Atwood. While the book found rave reviews and perched itself atop the bestseller list when it was released in 1986, it is hardly likely that the film will find as large an audience, even though it is highly alluring and deft in its treatment of a fascinating story.

Atwood’s warning focuses on the almost total loss of rights by women in a future society. In this world, only one in every 100 women is able to bear children. thus making fertile females the most valuable commodity and setting political groups at odds. The ruling government tests all women for fertility, with those able to reproduce being forced to serve as handmaid's for the elite. The rest become common laborers, are executed for non-compliance, or serve as wives for the elite.

At first glance, the film seems like a feminist's worst nightman. As it progresses, though, it reaches new levels of complexity and eventually becomes an indictment of many social as well as religious systems that are inherent to lesser degrees in today's world.

Natasha Richardson, the focus of the film, plays a handmaid who is sent to bear a child for a security commander (Robert Duvalll) and his wife (Faye Dunaway). She has rejected much of the brainwashing that handmaid's undergo, but is very cautious in her every move, especially when being wooed by Duvall or antagonized by Dunaway.

Richardson is a very lovely woman with a rather subdued presence, which is just what the role requires. Her experience as a handmaid reveals unknown qualities of the future system that surprise and mystify her, and she reacts almost as then audience does, usually in a form of mild shock. She becomes a heroine because she is able to keep a level head and test her boundaries, yet not fully submit to the paradox involved in her situation.

Most of the material is frightening on face value. but it is treated in a strangely humorous manner that constantly mocks religious systems. The controlling government is driven by distorted beliefs in God, but it becomes apparent that it’s all a sideshow for hidden immorality. The wives of the elite are bent on having a child, but they don't care if it's truly one of the family. Everyone seems to have a split personality driven merely by selfish goals.

The Handmaid's Tale has been adapted on what appears to be a fairly low budget. It's a very well-thought-out film, however, that leaves you yearning to read what the actual novel has to say. The assembled cast is of a very high quality, including smaller roles by Elizabeth McGovern, Aidan Quinn and Victoria Tennant.

Bad Influence / Triumph

Have you ever had a stranger enter your life, save your neck in a bar, take you to all the hip joints in town, ruin your engagement, steal your possessions, try to kill you and then apologIze for such wrongdoing? You haven’t?  Well at least you can sit back and watch this charade in the ultra-hyped Rob Lowe-James Spader film Bad Influence.

If you haven't guessed already, Rob Lowe is the "bad influence' the title suggests. He's the kind of person we all know about and despise because he's a complete and perfect fraud. He’s also very dangerous, willing to kill anyone at the drop of a hat just for personal kicks.

Apparently Lowe had o lot of practice for this role, in fact the film actually makes a big joke out of public exhibition of a private sexual videotape. Lowe can now claim that he was just trying to “get into character.”

James Spader is the brunt of these evil intentions. He’s a nice hard-working guy who doesn’t seem to be able to capitalize on moments. His new buddy Lowe teaches him some good lessons, like screw unto others before they screw unto you. Unfortunately for him his teacher lives in the philosophy of screw everyone without them really knowing it until it’s too late.

Bad Influence really isn’t that big a deal or that great a film. It is sometimes entertaining with a couple of rollicking funny moments, but overall it tends to leave a pretty foul taste in your mouth. Lowe is capitalizing on previous mischief and Spader is just trying too hard to produce mannerisms that were so well done in Sex, Lies and Videotape.

Blue Steel / MGM 

Another film dealing with upper-echelon psychopaths is Kathryn Bigelow’s equally hyped Blue Steel. Ron Silver is a trader on the New York Stock Exchange who all of the sudden (and I mean all of the sudden)  becomes a mad killer after witnessing rookie cop Jamie Lee Curtis blow away a robber in a grocery store. In that moment of death, Silver sees a new light that involves killing at random and attempting a satanic, psycho-sexual bond with Curtis.

Bigelow claims this sort of behavior isn't uncommon in our world. Research has shown that there are many cases worse than something like this. There's also the fact that most psychopaths are so charged up that they are extra hard to kill. Unfortunately, this knowledge doesn't translate well onto the screen. As Bigelow claims. "It’s just fantasy.”

Blue Steel has a lot going for it in some respects. Silver and Curtis deliver fine performances for what they're worth. Silver especially adds a nice touch to the upper-class psychopath. Even Clancy Brown, a face that looks familiar but strikes no chords, is enjoyable as the police chief. The filmwork itself is very stylish, although it tends to fall into overkill.

The plot and intentions are where the film really falls apart. The picture tries to work on too many planes, but doesn’t bother to piece them together. At one level, we have a supposed breakthrough in cop movies, with a female lead. Who really cares, though, if it’s a man or woman blowing people away?

Beyond that we have a woman cop justifying her existence not only to her parents, but to the police force that trained her, neither of whom believes a word she says for some hidden reason. Then there's the depiction of psvchopaths, who must really be stupid if they exist the way Silver does in this in this film.

Admittedly, a film like this doesn't have to abide by any rules, but when it becomes too far-fetched at almost every moment, it seems to lack much worth. Bigelow has a very fine eye as a director, she just seems a little too obsessed with violence and style.  At least she didn’t make a Lambada film! 

Love Is a Dog From Hell / Cineplex Odeon Films

To the best of my knowledge,  there have been three feature films based on the writings of poet-novelist Charles Bukowski.

Tales of Ordinary Madness seemed to capture the true essence of Bukowski’s disjointed, often surreal work, with Ben Gazarra playing the Bukowski figure in all his grisly exploits. Mickey Rourke’s performance in Barfly was thoroughly more vibrant and enjoyable than Gazarra's, but the film seemed to carry a false spirit in the twists and turns of the plot.

Belgian director Dominique Deruddere has taken a fresh, enjoyable approach constructing the gruesome fables of Charles Bukowski. This latest adaptation, Love Is a Dog From Hell, avoids the cliche of the middle-aged, free-spirited bum, choosing instead to focus on the development of such a figure. In doing so. Deruddere paints an altogether more tender and realistic picture, without losing the shocking, disparate elements of Bukowski’s work.

As a young boy, Harry’s vision of love is twisted from the romantic adventure scenario seen in films to the crude reality that surrounds him. As a young man graduating from high school, Harry has regained his romantic notions, but he will never see them surface because his face is terribly scarred with acne. Finally, as an almost middle-aged bum, Harry’s life has been reduced to alcohol and apathy, lacking the capacity for a normal relationship.

Duruddere wastes no time expressing the critical points in Harry’s development. The spare scenarios maintain their cohesion by culminating in a failed attempt at experiencing mutual love, with the final scenario capturing the rueful irony of Harry’s life. It’s not a pretty picture, but the natural tone, charming cast and bitter humor make the events easy to swallow.  

It takes a fairly open mInd to read Buxowski’s stories. In seeing them acted out, we can laugh more openly about the absurdities of his twisted visions, but we can also more sense the realism which Bukowski may have derived his thoughts.

Deruddere’s picture works both as an adaptation of the author and  as a moving and relevant portrait of life. Love is a Dog From Hell will be shown in OSH Auditorium Friday and Saturday. 

The Brave Little Toaster / Hyperion Pictures

Some of the most popular animated shorts at recent animation festivals deal with the personification of common household items. Those who remember the computer-generated “Pixar" shorts can recall how easy it is for objects such as lamps, unicycles and souvenir trinkets to evoke human actions and emotions in a delightful manner.

The full realization of this technique has recently come to life with the animated feature film The Brave Little Toaster. Based on the novella by Thomas Disch, this film chronicles the struggle of a group of outdated electrical appliances in locating their distant young master, a boy who once occupied the cabin in which they reside. 

Upon realizing that the cabin is to be sold, the diverse personalities set forth on a journey into the modern world. dong the war, they run into numerous obstacles and adverse characters, (including the new technology), with many opportunities to show their own heroics and charms.

The lead characters consist of a toaster, lamp, radio, electric blanket and vacuum cleaner, whose diverse personalities arise simply from their functions and extremities. The radio never shuts up and uses its antennae as a lance. The vacuum cleaner is the gruff one, who relieves his bag in private. The blanket needs affection and the lamp attention, and the toaster tries to keep a level head in order to balance the others out.

With such a range of traits, the story is able to keep itself fairly interesting and fun. The objects fight among themselves, as well as others they run into. The tale carries many thoughtful lessons, conflicting value struggles and visual showcases common to animated fairy tales. It has a wonderful blend of humor that is very mature, yet is packaged for a much younger crowd. The obligatory songs, the only real sore point, come off as very sappy and lacking verve; fortunately, they are few in number.

The Brave Little Toaster comes across as a grand scale storybook which should delight just about any youngster and the more warm-hearted adults. The film opens tonight at Cinema In Your Face with a benefit screening for the Lallapalooza Children’s Arts Project.

S.L.'s Bistro to Go hosts annual short-film festival

Have you ever wondered just what kind of films your typical film student from the University of Utah is capable of making? Unless you are in the film department at the U, or a friend of a creator, the forums available are quite slim.

All of that should change shortly, though, with the interest in film production escalating in the region and the desire of the film makers to exhibit their own sweat and blood to the public.

A step in this direction is currently underway with the First Annual Short Film Festival ready to take place at Bistro to Go. The Bistro is currently expanding its cultural input beyond poetry and art by acting as host to this event for the next few weeks.

Beginning this weekend, Bistro to Go will brandish the short films of local artists every Saturday for the month of March, possibly leading into April. Each Saturday, a film or two done in a Super 8 or 16mm format will be screened at 10 p.m. and again at 11 p.m. The film makers will most likely be present for feedback and discussion concerning their works. Best of all there is no admission charge, other than that which your appetite dictates.

The director of the event, Thomas Camoin, expressed the need for such a forum in the city. The casual and quaint setting not only provides entertainment for the unsuspecting visitor, but also affords those with common interest an arena for observing talent that is normally locked away. The festival will initially showcase works that were produced at the University of Utah, along with the odd independent production.

The pictures on tap represent only a small percentage of those working on films in the area, but the festival is open to those who are interested in showing their current or future works. With enough interest, the festival will occur at least twice a year in the spring or fall. The current schedule is as follows:

• March 3: 20th Century Picnic in America by Thomas Camoin; Brooke Bradford will perform his soundtrack live with the film.

•March 10: Portrait of a Girl With Flowers by Sharon Ashcraft; The Burden by Thomas Camoin

•March 17 The Escape by Charlene Rider; The Ghost by Sharon Ashcraft and Hiroki Miyano, 

cinematographer.

•March 24: Glances by Malcolm Greenway; Under My Skin by Dorna Khazeni and Hiroki Miyano, cinematographer.

• March 21: Parallels by Malcolm Greenway; Revolution by Thomas Camoin.

Bistro to Go is located at 271 S. Main St. 

'Shreddin' Vacation' premieres at U.

In the beginning, there was Verticus Maximus, and snow came forth, as did the boards, and it was so. Verticus begat The Tallest Waves, and the waters brought forth even more snow, and the boards parted the snow, and it was good.

And Waves begot Shreddin® Vacation From Hell, in its likeness, and it was totally radical! This is just the beginning of the Gospel according to Mick and O.D.

For those who don't yet know. Mick and O.D are modern day snowboard prophets and filmmakers extraordinaire. Their newest offering, and first real strike at the ski-film market is called Shreddin' Vacation From Hell. The film had its world premiere Wednesday at the University of Utah.

But this is no common, predictable strike, no sir! To simply be able to ski is one thing, a venture for mere mortals. To reach true exaltation, one must combine the feet, fuse the body to board. and become one with the mountain.

This state of nirvana is called snowboarding, or the arctic folk's answer to surfing, and is becoming increasingly popular among snow-dwellers. Most people are conscious of this sport, particularly in Utah. I’ve tried snowboarding myself, finding it to be a grand mixture of pleasure and pain. To the masters of the stick, it is no doubt a constant pleasure, even a way of life. And it is exciting enough to merit its own feature-length film, brought to the public by Mad Guys Making Movies Ltd. That's mad as in wildly enthusiastic and completely frenzied, not as in suffering from rabies (I think).

The whole project is the current interest of two Utah filmmakers, proponents of the “Bill Siska Modernist School of Filmmaking.” O.D. Ron was originally a still photographer and layout master for publications as diverse as Penthouse and the Wall Street Journal. He, seeking to branch out, went on to obtain his degree in film from the University of Utah, promptly shortening his name in the spirit of the field. Since then, there's been no looking back, having served as camera operator in many illustrious projects and more than 150 TV commercials.

His partner, Mick WOrthen, dropped out of the U. film department (thus the full name) to ford his own path through the L.A. film world. There he honed his craft, learning a variety of film techniques in various projects. His eventual return to Utah has brought back a veritable hitmaking duo.

Mick and O.D. were no strangers to each other. Their first known effort was a piece titled Malibu Jew, which became a finalist in the short-subject division at the 1983 U.S. Film Festival in Park City. The making of this philosophical picture was apparently a fluke, but the film achieved local cult status. The "Jewish California hippie" chronicles were thus continued in 1984's follow-up. G.l. Jew.

Somewhere along the line, their interests left the Jewish sector and entered the sports scene, namely snowboarding. O.D. turned Mick on to snowboarding, or was it the other way around? Regardless, their current destiny was set, and the aforementioned epics underway. Verticus Maximus was the first independent snowboard film, compiled as a university project. It gained much attention, placing ninth at the International Ski Festival in 1981.

Mick decided to take the topic a bit further on his own time, combining efforts with the infamous “Bobby Brady,” another film-school dropout. The resulting 30-minute piece was originally called The Tallest Waves, the title later being changed to the more conventional Born to Shred. It introduced the world to the fine art of "shreddin'," dealing a significant blow to the surfer world, which was geared to "tastin'."

Having completely collapsed the surfer mystique, Mick and O.D. teamed up to take on the skiing world. Script in hand, they set out to find corporate sponsors and the snow at the end of the rainbow. The duo happened upon a man named Bill Stoddard, who liked their idea and became the executive producer.

Bill Stoddard is a name worth knowing in Utah. His bright past includes references such as founding member of the Salt Lake Acting Co., live radio performer on KRCL, sponsor of charity fund-raising events, and member of various local rock bands. Stoddard’s passion for variety makes him an entrepreneur, a lifestyle that has treated him well, with much larger ventures, too numerous to mention. All that and long hair too!

With a budget of $20,000, excluding technical equipment, the trio set out to make Shreddin' Vacation From Hell. According to O.D., the idea was "Get to the hip-cat audience, with something different from the Warren Miller-type film." The inherent qualities that supposedly make this movie different are the inclusion of a plot and "bulzariously exotic comedy,” not to mention 60 minutes of righteous snowboard action and its complications.

According to Kate Duffy of the film’s marketing company, Green Hornet, “It’s hard to shoot this type of film, unless those involved in shooting know snowboarding." Mick and O.D's expertise in the sport. as well as in film, is what has generated a quality picture. While they make appearances in the film, Mick as the abominable Rev. Shtick and O.D. as Guru Lou, the star of the feature is a guy named Dennis Nazari.

Dennis is another impressive Utahn, the one who owns and successfully runs Salty Peaks and Pedal Express courier service. He is well-known in the World Pro Snowboard arena and is responsible, in large part for bringing snowboarding to Utah. In the film. he's Shred, a man who knows his boards but isn't accustomed to the local customs, crowds and social deviants on the snowy slopes. His vacation slowly turns into a shreddin' hell! 

The major snowboarding magazines have apparently given the film their almighty approval. Here's what I think of it, for the common person in common lingo I must admit, it is the best snowboarding film I have ever seen, although I haven't previously viewed a total snowboarding film. However, I have seen segments in "Warren Miller-type" films. What can you do with a camera that hasn't already been tried in one form or another on a ski hill? It's difficult to say that the action is supreme, but it is very good here. It starts off somewhat slow and uneventful, thankfully building to the point where you just stare and start emitting exclamations. The technical quality is very high and overall arousing, bringing on the skier's itch.

Sticking a plot into this type of film is a risky maneuver and not altogether unique. Again, the plot is slow in unfolding and not all that complex. It loses track for interesting bits of snowboarding wonder, but there is obviously conflict at hand throughout. Shred runs into all sorts of people and groups that impede his vacation. There’s the death-boarders, the Bulgarian National Boarding Team, the mutant snowmobiler, etc. The situations encountered are light and fun, often extremely witty in places.

It's not just the ideas behind the sketches that make them enjoyable. but the fast image editing that gives many of the characters life. Some are great, others pitiable; all are amusing. Shred himself is the laid-back stereotypical hedonist who doesn't really care what his ski suit looks like (even though it initially is repulsive). This attitude really does work in this film, especially since he doesn't look like a pretty boy.

The best aspect of the film is the musical score, by local artist Kem Kraft. It is enjoyable listening and moves perfectly with the action. Rather than just being background sound, it often creates the memory of the film.

The first boarding segment rapidly alternates from Shred "shreddin'" to the devious laughing gentleman who brought him to the hill. The image sticks in your head long after the film because of the background sound. Some of the stuff is even good enough on its own, such as the funky “Diggin for Guano.”  With the additional brilliant cut by locals Hate X9 to blister the temp, I say release the soundtrack as well.

Overall, the film is really a fine achievement that should make Utahns proud. The rest of the world will be flocking here, not just for the skiing, but for the shreddin' as well.

As for Mick and O.D., the future will undoubtedly be bright. I think they have enough technical and creative expertise to do justice to other topics, and that is what they intend to do. After one more snowboard film, "toned down and more commercial,” according to O.D., they plan on branching out to skateboard territory (thrashin'!) and mountain biking (blitzkriegin?). For now, Shreddin Vacation From Hell will soon be available in video and snowboard shops worldwide.

A Clockwork Orange / Warner Brothers Pictures

Come me little droogies and witness a tolchoking the likes you've never seen! Real horror show!

Yes. once again the ultraviolence makes its way to the big screen for Mayfest.

Years ago, tradition dictated that A Clockwork Orange would screen during the week of raucous activity, serving to stabilize the heart rates of those who participate in more upbeat events. This year the film returns to the Union Movie Theater in all its splendor, ready to instill fear into the most hedonistic of souls.

You'd be pretty hard-pressed to find a more disheartening view of society than that presented by Stanley Kubrick in his adaptation of Anthony Burgess' most famous novel. For all the masterful production, the film still works best because of the premise exposed in the book.

Picture a society in which youths run rampant, brawling and killing in order to appease themselves. Doesn’t sound too far from reality,  and it really isn't, but there is a catch. It's called the Ludovico Technique, the government's new system that will cure young offenders of their mind-sickness, turning them into model citizens.

It's simple, really, you just force these people to witness acts of violence and sex for hours on and end until it uncontrollably repulses them. After enough treatment, they couldn't make a fist without becoming violently ill (too bad it doesn't work with beer).

The young lad who is the initial subject in this grand experiment is Alex, an extremely thoughtless and arrogant individual. He's so bad that his own droogs turn on him, leading to his conviction for murder.

Eyes pinned open, strapped into a chair, Alex is forced to endure the Ludovico symphony of terror, which includes not only sex and violence, but Alex's first and foremost passion, Ludwig Van Beethoven. Upon his release, Alex is a changed man. Unfortunately, society hasn't changed with him and elephants never forget.

The story, whose name is derived from a novel being written by one of Alex's victims, is a dark and simple tale that serves a double entendre as a film. As viewers, we learn of the Ludovico Technique as well as witness it firsthand on the screen. Unlike Alex, we can close our eyes during the nastiness, but if we choose to watch, we'll find a lesson unfolding before us.

The fil;m would be extremely disturbing were it not for Kubrick’s tone, which leans toward the overplayed. The quantity of extreme violence and sex is great, yet it's all so vibrant and surreal (due to the editing and sound-dub) that it becomes more like a fairy tale. The acting and staging are both very theatrical as well, turning the message into more an example than a warning,

Kubrick shows great talent and will in tackling such a story. not so much because it is difficult to understand but because it can be interpreted any number of ways on film. In his book, Burgess creates a language that seems familiar but must often be repeated to achieve complete understanding. Kubrick chooses to use the slang in the narration that accompanies the film and sets a tone that might accompany such deviant rhetoric.

Rather than purely interpreting the book, however, Kubrich seems to have stumbled upon a story that already fits his style (or helps expand it). The piece is quite garish and extreme, constantly experimenting with technique and composition. At times it doesn't seem appropriate, such as the rapid motion sex sequence and the depictions of Bible stories, but on the whole it is cinematic uniqueness and brilliance.

As with most of Kubrick's films, A Clockwork Orange is regarded as a classic. It would undoubtedly look different if it were redone today, but its current form holds as great a thrill and impact as wever. The only filmmaker even daring to delve into this style of film these days is Peter Greenway (The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover), whose pictures resemble a malenky bit o' thievin from Kubrick's bag of tricks

A Clockwork Orange will be showing tonight at 10pm in the Union Movie Theater.

This Is Spinal Tap

Few films hold as many witty and memorable lines as Rob Reiner's classic This Is Spinal Tap. No one really needs to be told that heavy metal and music and bands in general are one of life’s more ludicrous realities, but reinforcing this notion has never been better, as the crowd at the Union Movie Theater witnessed last night during the special Mayfest screening.

This rock documentary is an almost perfect exercise in parody. Not only is it based on a real band, but it presents itself in a totally believable and straightforward manner.

The action picks up as the struggling veteran musicians are set for a comeback after 13 years with their staggering new album, Smell the Glove. Amid squabbles over the album cover ("We're not forcing her to smell the glove"), the band is interviewed, plays gigs and is caught in moments of sheer inspiration.

Nigel and David talk about the roots of the band, starting out as the Originals but soon changing its name to the New Originals because someone else was already using the former name. The band's first break came with "Pop, Look and Listen" in a performance that would do the Beatles proud.

The group ponders the problems they’ve had with drummers and their inability to endure. The first was lost in a bizarre gardening accident, and the second choked on someone else's vomit. Of course. "you can't really dust vomit," so the incident is still a mystery to the band. These tragic occurrences, including the spontaneous combustion of the third drummer on stage, do not worry the latest drummer, as the odds are with him for survival.

Live, the band is very tight, especially in the nether regions of the torso. The members shake and scat like Mexican jumping beans, yet they evoke emotion during songs like "Hell Hole" and "Big Bottom.” Nigel is particularly passionate, as he shows with the piano ballad "Lick My Love Pump.” 

While the band is constantly down on its luck. shows being canceled left and right (“I wouldn't worry about it. Boston's not a big college town"), the group members take it well. They can reminisce about the old days and realize that progression means a more selective audience.

While David has his girlfriend's shoulders to fall back on, Nigel seeks out his huge guitar collection. "Listen to the stain. You can hear it vibrating." Guitars and amps are what life's all about, and the band's secret weapon is the volume knob that goes to 11. ("It's one louder, isn't it?”) 

Alas. things get worse and worse, as equipment screws up at what few gigs there are and problems occur with management. Eventually the band breaks up and re-forms again after a brief period.

Reiner hits all of the cliches that go along with the music biz, and they’re as wry and appropriate now as they’ve ever been. Each member of the band creates his own flavorful personality, contrasting with the others. In addition, Reiner uses many currently well-known personalities who were nothing at the time the film came out. Overall, This Is Spinal Tap is a wonderful way to get high on laughter anytime.

Festival entries may show up at local theaters

Sundance Film Festival Report 1990

The conclusion of the Sundance U.S. Film Festival Sunday marked the end of the road for many of the features and shorts that were screened there. At the same time, it may serve as a portal to a larger market for others. Whether any pure genius has been revealed remains to be seen as some of the films move on to other festivals or into general release, but my general impression is all of the movies exhibited a high level of quality that will find some sort of appreciation wherever they may go. Here are a few that should show up in town again.

Sweetie / Avenue Pictures

Jane Campion's feature debut is already creating quite a stir with its recent theatrical release in major U.S. cities. Sweetie easily became my favorite of the festival and seemed to be the one exhibiting obvious potential for future acclaim and significant stature in the film world.

While critics have compared the Australian filmmaker to David Lynch, I think she far surpasses anything Lynch ever concocted. Her Sweetie could be considered a black comedy because of the bizarre characters and mystifying tone, but its subject matter is very real and lends the film an urgency that is normally found in highly serious pictures.

The movie begins with the uncertain life of a young woman named Kay. For a while, the viewer thinks the film is her story and doesn't quite know what to make of it–that is, until Kay finds sister Sweetie has broken into her home. Sweetie's inability to find a handhold on life is slowly developed through her association with Kay, as well as with the rest of the family and society in general. If Sweetie soon becomes the central character, the story reverts back to Kay and her parents and their struggle to cope with a grown relative who is completely off the deep end.

The movie carries psychological undercurrents that structure the story and push beyond what is merely on view. The audience can laugh at the scenes of life that are revealed, but it also comes to realize that what is quite funny is also very tragic. The end result goes straight to the gut.

How to Be Louise / Venus de Mylar Productions

I didn't even care to see this film, but it ended up as my favorite among the dramatic competition entries. Anne Flourney, like Jane Campion, delivers a search for stability among those who aren't even close. The characters in How to Be Louise are mostly oddballs whose absurdities are played to the hilt, with the focus on the extraordinary innocence of Louise.

The movie opens with the shocking death of Louise's mother when the girl is 4 years old. The action then cuts to 24 years later with Louise trying to look forward but forever glimpsing backward. The death of her mother provides the basis for Louise's insecurity, as well as much of the film's humor. It may sound serious, and it actually is to an extent, but the film doesn't seek that direction, instead becoming a layered comic romp. The gags are unique and clever, not blatant attempts to force a laugh.

Anne Flourney has a solid grasp on playing the camera angle for artistic impact, and such a style fits perfectly with this kind of film, as does shooting in black and white. It feels a lot like a Jarmusch movie,  but the actors are more vibrant, especially Lea Floden as Louise. I was fortunate to meet her afterward, and she is as charming as the film.

The Natural History of Parking Lots / Little Deer Productions

In introducing The Natural History of Parking Lots, competition director Alberto Garcia claimed this film defines what independent cinema is about. The statement seems to ring true with this exploration of the boundaries of film, which I expected to win the grand prize of the festival. At one level, Lewis’ film borders on documentary-style realism; at another it unveils techniques that are almost limitless.

The movie relates the untimely development of a relationship between two brothers who are mixed up in criminal behavior. The impetus behind their corrupt nature is never directly revealed; instead, the film focuses on the humanity of the two, bound to strike many chords in any viewer. Their excursions create a bond that  neither originally wants but comes to mean a lot more than either expected. The results are brutal and tragic and perhaps a little overstepped. Fortunately, it's very absorbing.

Lewis attempts to force a style, mostly by experimenting with the camera work during transitional scenes. The effects are well done, but not wholly necessary. The fact that the attempt was made at all lends this unique film all the credibility it needs, particularly in the arena of independent cinema.

The Kill Off / Films Around the World, Inc.

The most dark and bizarre characters of any of the festival's films surface in The Kill Off, a complex mystery that ultimately lives up to its name. The film, based on a novel by Jim Thompson, depicts the highly intertwined lives of various seedy people in a small town.

It all revolves around a dominant old recluse named Luane who tries to stay one up on

everyone from the comfort of her bed. Her young husband Ralph takes care of her, yet goes out and finds his own fun every night, always returning to give Luane the sordid details. His exploits usually occur in a true hole-in-the-wall bar, where other characters also base their operations. They all depend on each other because of their dark pasts, but they are ever searching to break those bonds.

The links develop slowly and are finally resolved, almost too rapidly, at the end. The performances are all perfect, however, and make the story quite fascinating. The young, disillusioned Ralph is  particularly fun to watch; he just goes along with whatever situation seems best in an easy going manner. The movie flows in an outrageous and dark style, accompanied by hauntingly simple music that complements the erie tone. While the story is quite vicious and disturbing, it is also injected with rather biting humor.

Stanley and Iris / MGM/UA

Director Martin Ritt couldn’t understand the audience’s laughter at opening night of the festival when he mentioned he hadn’t been to Salt Lake City before, but had been to Provo. I can’t really understand why he bothered to make his latest feature Stanley and Iris.  It’s not that the film isn’t good; I did enjoy it to some degree but it is never very compelling, and its perhaps a bit overdone.

The story, based on a novel by Pat Barker, concerns two adults with gaping holes in their lives. Jane Fonda is the woman who has recently lost her husband and is struggling to support her children while dealing with a number of other problems. Robert De Niro is the man who can’t read a word, even his own name, who also supports his elderly father. After the two meet, they gradually change each other's lives and ultimately find happiness together.

At its base, the situation is fairly simple and moving. These people are very kind and proud; unfortunately, life has not been kind in return. Ritt throws in a number of elements that make their existence even harder. They might be necessary to keep the story interesting, but their obviousness in padding the tragedy is too apparent. The conclusion is like a fairy tale with the happy ending, coming too quickly and a little too severely. 

The performances are very good, especially Fonda's as Iris. De Niro does a splendid job as well, but I can’t help but feel that his character should have been just a bit tougher, both in appearance and manner. He's the one who has probably had the most difficult life, going from job to job, even if it's menial labor, while also working on his invention in his shop. The two performances come across as star vehicles that show the ability to conform to a role. They do it well, but it has been done before, and who's really going to believe it or even care?

Heart Condition / New Line Cinema

The movie Heart Condition derives its title from the paradox created by its central storyline. A vengeful cop (Bob Hoskins) suffers a heart attack after his suspension from the police force. His ailing heart is replaced by that of a murdered black lawyer (Denzel Washington), the same man who's irreverent relationship with Hoskins led to the suspension. Washington's ghost comes back to assist Hoskins in discovering the killer and help the prostitute (Chloe Webb) they both loved.

The story is a vehicle for resolving the drama’s underlying issues of racism and supposedly gives the film justification for its existence. Denzel Washington is no stranger to this issue, in fact his career has practically been based on it. This time around, however, the film has a comic edge, fully reliant upon Washington's character and his effects on Hoskins. Unfortunately, neither the actors' abilities nor the film's message create anything but a miserable, almost pathetic experiment.

The situation that Hoskins finds himself in is very similar to Steve Martin's classic All of Me. Nobody but Hoskins can see or hear Washington upon his return from the dead, but everyone can witness Hoskins thrashing about by himself. Martin's role was effective because he made each scene peculiar and absorbing, but here the joke becomes stale, unable to expand its bounds as it repeats. 

There are many moments when Hoskins and Washington converse, with Denzell trying to humor Bob with dry wit, while pushing him into situations that lead to trouble. Washington, however, is not naturally funny and can't pump any energy into jokes that are bad in the first place. Eddie Murphy can pull off a role like this, but not Washington, especially when it relies on his natural, lackluster image.

Chloe Webb, who was fascinatingly annoying in Sid & Nancy, is able to provide the necessary emotion as the struggling prostitute. but her job is too easy and unfortunately just a sideshow for the rest of the film. Hoskins presence is the only thing that brings interest to the picture, but his role is hindered by the rhythm of the story. It's just too contrived to allow him to reach his creative, pleasing element that's been achieved in previous efforts.

The breakdown of racial barriers is developed in such a haphazard manner (to complement the shoddy storyline) that it comes off simply as a nice intention which can't be taken seriously. The film is just another piece of commercial dung with a semi-star billing. All of these stars have done better and hopefully will in the future.

Hard to Kill / Warner Bros. Pictures

There's a school of thought that has been circulating around major parts of the film world for years now. It's called the "Mad-Libs doctrine. Remember when you were a kid, and at rest stops on family vacations you would pick up that game book which told a series of stories, only you got to fill in crucial words and phrases? Well, that long lost past-time found its way to the adult world of movie making.

For example, instead of filling a blank with Arnold Schwarzenneger, we can merely write in Steven Seagal. Now fill in the rest of the blanks. A corrupt politician attempts to kill a handsome police detective skilled in martial arts. But the daring family man, with a voluptuous wife, is only in a coma for seven years. Upon emerging from the coma, he regains his strength and manliness, finds another voluptuous (sorry, that's been used already) woman to care for him and pursues his unadulterated revenge. Lots of people die.

It’s amazing really. The executive producer of Hard to Kill, Lee Rich, notes, “I liked the idea that it's an action film, but at the same time it's really like nothing else. OK. so we can't expect him to blurt out that he was only after making a fast buck, but his actual statement that this film is unique goes just too far.

The only thing I found to be original, or even interesting, was the typeface for the opening credits.

It's very nice to occasionally see this scenario done well, but it does get a little timesome. Rambo was some kind of breakthrough for the genre, and Schwarzenneger tossed in a nice humor element; even Robocop was pleasing all around. Steven Seagal's hero has no originality whatsoever and hardly has the appeal to make this picture worthwhile even for screen appeal's sake.

Instead of spending good money to see something you have already seen over and over and better, wait for The Killer, a film that screened at the Sundance U.S. Film Festival. This Chinese movie makes a complete mockery of the whole American action-flick industry–everything that Hard to Kill represents. Until then, if you ever get hard up for money or bored with life, remember that a place awaits you in Hollywood. You probably won’t need any training either!

Animation fest offers variety of styles, subjects

The 22nd International Tournee of Animation / Expanded Entertainment

I've been reviewing films for half a year now. In that time, I've seen fewer than three animation festivals. That makes an average of one festival every two months, with no signs that this ratio is getting any smaller.

How is it  possible that there can be so much animation, with each new collection boasting all premieres and the promise to be the utmost in entertainment value? It almost seems like a con job, some kind of capitalistic scheme to milk animation for all it's worth. It's true, the festivals often do take on these characteristics, but for the most part they are still worth their weight in gold.

Take the current 22nd International Tournee of Animation as an example. In some ways this series is becoming a bit predictable. Remember the festival that interspersed four of The Simpsons shorts before they broke into superstardom? It's the same series here, but this time the ice-breaker is Bill Plimoton and his Plymptoons. They begin the show on a pleasant note, pop up in the middle again to let you know that things will finally get good, and then close the show, making sure you leave with a smile.

It’s an effective and altogether pleasant concept, considering that the same space could have been filled with the drivel that contributes to the first half of the show. In fact this festival has always had a problem with dynamIcs on the whole, opting more for a variety of styles. This time around the filler pieces are done away with in the first half, leading to a block of power pieces that guarantee laughter and amazement.

When a festival boasts that it contains all premiers, it usually means that all pieces are new in a collection format. It's definitely possible that viewers have seen them elsewhere and not altogether true that it wasn't in another festival. This time, however, there weren't any shorts that I had seen before anywhere. Truth in advertising finally arises!

The shorts on their own are quite a mixed bag. Techniques are many, as are the nationalities represented. Some are worth your full attention, others perhaps for a minute or two.

There are also those that are utterly useless, such as the dance number Kakanja and a student film called Cat & Rat.

For all the moments of repressed interest, there are a few shorts that will stick in viewers' minds for a long time. Vykrutasy (The Coiling Prankster) is the first one of genuine interest and is one of the most memorable. It's the kind that explores the boundaries of animation, developing its action through the use of wire. The story is a clever and dark exercise in futility due to the minimal supply of wire on hand.

Immediately following is a great piece from France called Gisele Kerozene. Another dark comedy that explores different techniques, this piece leaves viewers speechless and quite possibly rolling on the ground. 

More serious subjects are also quite enjoyable. Balance, the 1990 Academy Award winner, is finally introduced here, clearly showing why it captured that award. It's a strikingly simple clay piece that deals with the subject of greed in an intelligent and ethereal manner.

Not all of the great ones deviate from pencil, color and paper. A US entry called All My Relations proves to be about the most enjoyable and humorous of the lot, dwelling on the aspects of human relationships with the use of good, old-fashioned, simple animation techniques. It pretty much sums up the appeal of animation and the reason why it's possible to pump these things out every other month.

The 22nd International Tournee of Animation begins Friday at Cinema in your Face.

Movie theatres, VCRs not really the enemies they seem

A friend of mine recently returned from Taiwan after nearly a year's stint leaching English to the masses. One evening he enlightened and assaulted me with his tales of degradation and infidelity to the American way in an attempt to reduce my cultural ineptness. He finally caught my full attention when he brought up the topic of entertainment, particularly movie houses.

It seems the Taiwanese are not content with a big screen, crowds and a limited selection of films. Instead, each patron gets his or her own small room and the pick of any film from a vast array. Details are rather spare, but I believe the format is a laser disc stuck into a disc player and viewed on an average size television screen.

What an ingenious concept! You leave the house to find some entertainment and end up in another house, on a couch in front of a television set. Have these people really given up on an enterprise that has brought pleasure to billions of people the world over, or are they just enduring cultural backlash?

One might say that such a procedure for viewing films will never surface here, but it already has and is fast becoming an American institution. The only difference is that we leave the house in search of entertainment, find and pay for it, and then bring the entertainment home to enjoy. Practically everyone has a Taiwanese movie house in the living room!

A VCR (Variable Communication Remover) used to be a luxury in our society. I'm not really sure when it happened, but all of a sudden it was no longer a luxury, becoming more of a necessity like soap and sunflower seeds. Most folks nowadays wouldn't know what to do without their VCR and with good reason too.

My move to a VCR last summer really seemed like a logical step at the time. I was living in Winnemucca, Nevada, lots of beer, time and money on my hands, and only one movie theater with Batman showing endlessly on both screens. The VCR solved all my problems. Sure there wasn't much in the way of a video selection, but at least I could tape soap operas, sporting events and MTV while at work, thus reducing the reality that is Winnemucca.

Upon finding my way back to Salt Lake City, the possibilities grew and grew. Pretty soon I was pirating videotapes left and right, watching films I had only dreamed of before and inviting my friends over at 2 am to view The New Adventures of Mighty Mouse.

My bike, my girlfriend, my alarm clock- nothing was as reliable as my little black box, complete with remote control and 25-year programming capability. An awesome bargain at only half the price of a quarter’s tuition!

Yes, it's true, America has succumbed to the powers of the VCR. For a while, my parents would comment,"Wait till it comes on TV." Now it's "Wait till it's released on video.” Surprisingly enough, that wait keeps shortening.

Are we really a society growing less and less adventuresome, hardly daring to venture to a movie theater anymore? Yes!

The movie industry as a whole managed to break box-office attendance records last year, but the figure is deceiving. When you break it down, realizing that admission prices are twice what they were just a few years ago with only a handful of films reaping an unbalanced amount of profits, it's not that great an accomplishment. The whole reason why concession prices are so high is to keep movie theaters in the green between blockbuster screenings, and to many that's not a soothing thought.

With the cost of video rentals going down and the price of a movie ticket going up, the entertainment-effectiveness ratio certainly ain't shining too brightly on public cinemas. The only solution for the theatrical arena is to bring the standards back up and make the experience of leaving the house to see a film truly moving and magical. It can be done, it must be done and it is being done.

When, how and where?

Cut back to Nevada, this time Reno. Of all the places on the face of this Earth, there is an art cinema right smack in the bowels of Bally's Casino. Once you've lost all your money gambling, you can retire to the theater, where there are comfortable couches, lots of legroom and scantily clad waitresses bringing alcoholic drinks to your seat at your leisure. I was almost embarrassed to have smuggled a beer into such a place. After watching the movie, all I could talk about was what  a wonderful experience it had been, even though the movie sucked.

It'll take one hell of a revelation to get this kind of treatment in Utah, but at least it is happening elsewhere and reportedly not just in Nevada.

Not only is the comfort factor improving, but the technology that makes film possible is also reaching astounding new heights. Anyone can get Dolby stereo sound at home with a VCR, but what home can boast the new THX Dolby-superquadrophonic ABC-XYZ ultra-sensurround to the third power sound system? The same principle sold the CD player, right?

There's also the fine matter of picture quality. Those high-resolution television sets can't hold a stick to a picture shown on 70mm film, nor to new screens that offer the exact same view from every seat in the theater.

Even without the technology and comfort, a trip to the cinema can be pleasant and fun. Where else can you find the satisfaction you get smiling at the doorman with a six-pack tucked down your trousers? At home the process is so easy, but you still have to clean up your own mess. Sure you can get up and go to the bathroom with the push of a button, but isn't that the rewarding challenge of going to the theater? Isn't that what life’s all about?

While VCRs and movie theaters seem to be at odds with each other, they really work hand in hand. The theater will always be one step ahead, the testing ground that makes home viewing what it is. They each have their own niche in the lives of millions.

As for myself, if it weren't for VCRs, the Simpsons would be lost to a paycheck. If it weren’t for movie theaters, I'd be unemployed and sitting home reading Nietzsche!

New summer films offer usual range of fluff, hits

Sequels, 'delightfully twisted parody,' rereleases among proffered fare

It won’t be long before the city’s newspapers are flooded with a barrage of advertisements promoting the hot new films of the summer. If you're a sane individual you'll just take them as they come, see what you want to see, and skip all the fluff in between.

More obsessive movie buffs will be turning to every source available to find out what's coming up, what’s predicted to be huge, basically planning exactly how, when and where they’Il be wasting their time this summer.

If you want to get a fairly comprehensive view of the films on tap for summer, Premiere magazine is a decent source to turn to, just look for the big man, Arnie Schwarzenegger, doing underwater ballet tricks on the cover, and inside you will find the low down on what’s up this summer.

Just why is Arnold on the cover? True, he is a swell guy who should be gracing the cover of any magazine, anytime, but the pressing reason in this case is that he's set to conquer the masses once again in the film Total Recall, one of the first predicted blockbusters to hit the streets.

You really don't need to know anything about a film when the Schwarz stars. Those who like him will eat up any film he's in, and possibly go back for seconds. Hold everything, though, this work could be doubly potent for lots of other reasons. Based on a short story by Phillip K. Dick, the film is placed in the seldom seen and seldom done well genre of science fiction. The director is Paul Verhoeven, whose last feature was Robocop, a true-to-life original. There's also lots of mutants in the film, and we all love mutants (makes us feel content with ourselves).

If you just need to know something about this epic before seeing it, here's the lowdown from Verhoeven himself: "It's an action-adventure in that it's about a man being hunted by people who are trying to kill him because something in his brain that he has forgotten threatens them. Yet it is also a story about reality, which gives the film a deeper psychological complexity.” Whoa, pass the bottle over here!

You might be wondering why Arnold got the cover instead of Tom Cruise, who emerges with a new film called Days of Thunder. Well, Tom's been in the spotlight lately, and it's been so long since we've heard from Arnold, seems like years really.

Tommy's movie is going to receive the most hype anyway, even without a cover picture. The film has Cruise as a race-car driver, in the ultra-competitive, mind-boggling, fascinating world of NASCAR racing. But wait, there's more--according to producer Don Simoson, "lt is a film about the difference between courage and bravery.” Looks like there'll be some interesting twists with this one. Of course, the only reason Tom got the role was because his last name works so well with the subject material, making for some pretty snappy promotional posters.

I don't mean to sound so full of contempt, but it's so much fun! Actually, Cruise is a wonderful actor, that unique presence that just doesn't come our way that often (although he does remind me of my brother). He'll be in his element here and will make enough dough to buy the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

Also caught up in this summer's pandemonium is Batman–ah, I mean Dick Tracy. Shame to confuse the two since the only similarities between last year's megahit and this years will be the profit column.

Dick Tracy will have it easy this summer, a sure bet for success. Since everyone suddenly realized how adaptable comic strips are to film. If the critics like it at all, it's going to be huge, but I suspect everyone will be looking for ways to rail it. Shouldn’t be hard either, with Warren Beatty and Madonna in the lead roles.

Dick Tracy is perhaps the most consistently enjoyable serial strip of all time, always combining interesting characters with humor and action. The best parts of the strip will be hard to translate to film, though, like the captions describing wondrous pieces of technology to the reader. I just hope they don't muck it up as bad as I think they will.

So where's Sulvester Stallone? A summer without Stallone is like a day without a beer: you’re better off without it. Sylvester's Popularity has been waning recently, making way for new heroes to fill the troughs. Dolph Lundgren seems to be the man most eager to stoop. He'll be bringing his complex persona and heaving musculature our way in Death Angel, a film about a happy cop who battles a 7-foot giant (who has no regard for human life). Remember A Clockwork Orange as you vomit your way out of the theater during this one.

Of course, nothing can make you quite so queasy as a sequel. This summer there'll be plenty of them, too, starting with Back to the Future Ill and Another 48 Hrs. Following up are the ingeniously named sequels Young Guns II, Robocop II, Die Hard II and Gremlins II. Disaster could strike this summer as theater owners realize serious shortage of "I"s for their marquees.

It's getting harder and harder to instantly knock sequels since Lethal Weapon II made such a pleasing hit last summer. Still, I wouldn't expect much from this batch, although another Robocop and Die Hard sound pretty enticing. Forget Gremlins II, though. It's been more than three months since the original came out.

The quantity of films available this summer will no doubt be huge and hardly worth the space to mention them all. With a little luck, here are some films that I will be hunting for this summer.

• The Desperate Hours, starring Mickey Rourke: It's a fitting title, considering Rourke and director Michael Cimino’s track record, but it also has a great supporting cast, including LIndsay Crouse and Kelly Lynch. It was partially filmed in Salt Lake City last fall and sounds to be a rather disturbing affair. Hey, I'm there!

• Graffiti Bridge, the third Prince film: I'm not ashamed to admit that I like Prince’s music, even when he's overly pop. I also like his first feature, Purple Rain, of which this is supposedly a follow-up. It should be interesting to see what direction he takes with it; at least he didn’t call it More Purple Rain.

• Miller's Crossing, by the brothers Coen: It's been too long since Raising Arizona hit the screen. so this third feature by the Cons is a welcome surprise. Don't expect any cute babies, though. This gangster film sounds like it will be more in the vein of Blood Simple, which is fine with me.

• Mo’ Better Blues, by Spike Lee: Spike had a summer hit last year with Do the Right Thing, a film that disgusted me in many ways. Still, he does have a pleasing style that makes an impact. In this film he'll be covering the topic of jazz music, with Denzel Washington in the lead. Both Lee and Washington need to explore their boundaries a bit more, and I hope that's what they'll be doing mo' of here.

• Speaking Parts, by Atom Egoyan: It's doubtful that anyone has heard of Egoyan, but he happens to be one of Canada's leading directors and tops in my book. This film toured the festivals last summer with great acclaim. It deals with gruesome human attributes and videotape and will probably be as strangely seductive as Egoyan's film, Family Viewing.

• Mystery Train, by Jim Jarmusch: Another film that's been out for a while by another fabulous director. God willing, it will make its way to Salt Lake City along with all those other art films I've been hearing about. Jarmusch really is the most singular director I've ever seen, both Stranger Than Paradise and Down by Law among my favorites. His style is slow yet totally engrossing if you're into simple, heavy imagery.

• Wild At Heart, by David Lynch: Hot off his victory with the television series Twin Peaks. Lynch quickly scores another with a new feature film. It’s already won the Golden Palme award at the Cannes Film Festival and been panned by Roger Ebert, two of the greatest triumphs a director could ask for. I'd expect more Blue Velvet with this film.

• Frankenhooker. With a title like this, you can't lose. 

Other films will make their way to our town this summer with any luck. A few hits from the U.S. Film Festival should be emerging, like the award-winning soap opera Longtime Companion, a daring film about the effect of AIDS on a portion of the gay community. It's not really a great film from a technical standpoint, but many people will want to check it out. Also reappearing should be the delightfully strange comedy The Unbelievable Truth and the delightfully twisted parody The Killer. Out already is Sweetie, a truly unique, funny and disturbing portrayal of life’s difficulties.

By now everyone has heard the debate about the rating system, with the proposal of an "A” rating squeezing in between an “R” and an “X.” A couple of the films spurring this debate should be available this summer, including Pedro Almodovar's Tie Me Up Tie, Me Down and a film called Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer. The titles alone hint that these are definitely adult material, but I suppose the debate’s a little overdone. Almodovar has alwas been extreme in his ways and much appreciated for it. His fans could care less what the rating is. On the other hand, Henry is supposed to be a fairly disturbing yet artistic affair. Controversy is just what the film needs to make an impact.

Some older films will also be showing up because of the current success of the directors' work. Look for Mala Noche, another rare gem from Gus Van Sant who found astonishing success with Drugstore Cowboy. Peter Greenaway, whose film The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and the Kitchen Sink is currently turning heads everywhere, has quite a back catalog waiting to be unleashed. Look for some kind of retrospective of his films, in much the same style as his latest.

Whatever you see this summer at the cinemas, remember to eat before you go, and above all, remember it's just a film!

Two "cult' directors turn out dissimilar movies

Waters' Cry Baby' disappointing; Greenaway's 'Cook, Thief' fascinating

Cry Baby / Imagine Entertainment

I like to consider myself a reasonable man. I have very little desire to see an obese guy playing a woman eat a piece of shit on screen. Even less could induce me to utilize a scratch 'n sniff card to dramatize the smells of a film. I might be inclined to see a film called Female Trouble, if given sufficient amounts of hallucinogens.

The type of cinema of which I speak has its place int he history books under the name John Waters, or shock/filth, whichever you can fnd first. It also has a substantial cult following, which proves that some people get off on watching deviant behavior. I might not agree with such refined tastes, but I can appreciate their existence in light of the drab movie-making that dominates American cinema. 

A couple of years ago, the man who I had so long avoided directed a feature that stood in my opinion as one or the most enjoyable comedies of the year. Hairspray brought Waters uncanny style of humor to a far more acceptable level, actually into the mainstream of American film. 

Even mainstream might be too strong a word, for Hairspray wasn't exactly a conventional movie. The script was absolutely ripe with poignant humor, but you had to peel away a few layers to get to it. The plot concerning segregation in the 50’s was played as a comic romp that caught me completely off guard, producing a sensation as if I’d just shaved for the first time. I hardly thought a period piece could ever be so slyly inventive.

Unfortunately, sitting through Waters' latest flash to the past is kind of like shaving with dull plastic; it simply doesn't work one iota.

Cry Baby is Waters' first effort without “Divine" inspiration, a loss that may have left the director in the dark. I suppose it's fortunate that he didn't try to reincarnate his leading man (or woman) in the same shape, but Waters' new hero, Johnny Depp, Is lacking practically any originality or excitement.

In the film, Depp is "Cry Baby," the leader of a "drape” gang known as "Cry Babies." The sole message behind these nifty names, and for the film itself, Is that it's good to be a juvenile delinquent. I have no problem with such a concept, which obviously isn't to be taken seriously, but I don't think the approach to the material is very engaging, or funny at all.

Depp tries to win the affections of Allison, one of the “square” girls. For Allison, her one  night of happiness results in Cry Baby being unjustly thrown into prison. She doesn't know whether to trust him, but she arranges for his early parole anyway and lives the happy life of a drape.

The film is billed as a musical and delivers a bunch of songs about how great it is to be a juvenile delinquent and to be in love. The songs lack any originality whatsoever and are performed about as well as the musical skits during the Academy Awards (in fact, that’s exactly what they look like).

In between songs, Waters tosses in interesting characters and insipid events to pad the story. He used the same approach in Hairspray, only he pushed situations to their limits and developed a well-rounded interest in the characters. In Cry Baby his approach with random comedy suffers from a lack of depth and continuity.

Waters is once again grappling with the inhumanity of the system, especially with how parents and authorities deal with their teen-egers. His earlier film brought the message across precisely because the situations were genuinely unfair and struck a chord with the viewer. In the new film, viewers really could care less because the characters are just worthless slugs.

While most developments come too quickly, others that might spur interest trail off into obscurity. The constant barrage of jokes is of the hit-or-miss variety or are simply old ones we’ve seen somewhere before. Almost all of them are absolute throwaways.

Perhaps the only redeeming value of the film is the cast, a truly surprising and interesting array. Ricki Lake returns as the obese-but-loveable-teen, and ex-porno star Traci Lords makes a very striking teen-queen vamp. Iggy Pop doesn't quite have to act, but he uses his presence well opposite a grotesque Elvira-lookalike as Cry Baby's grandparents.

There's another grotesque woman named Hatchet-face and special cameo appearances by Willem Dafoe, Patty Hearst and "that guy from the Isuzu commercials." Waters himself was nowhere to be found, although his presence would've helped.

A fine cast matters little when its talents are minimally used. The attention here is too focused on Depp, who can act as well as lip-sync Elvis Presley, but his performance is exactly as written in the script. He's simply an extension of a teeny-bop magazine that any girl can pick up on the newsstand.

At the point when I was ready to prematurely exit the film, Waters had beat me to the punch, for the film was already over. The total running time couldn't have been more than 80 minutes, and the second the credits started rolling, a loud groan was distinctly heard throughout the audience. It wasn’t that anyone wanted anymore, it’s just that we all expected a lot more.

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover / Miramax Films

If John Waters has apparently lost his cult touch, Peter Greenaway is pushing his to new extremes. It’s best not to mention the two directors in the same breath. Their styles and intentions are hardly similar, but viewing their two films back to back provides a wealth of contradictions in cinematic direction.

In his early days, Waters forced his way into the market with his grotesque, shocking visions. Most of his films received X ratings because the content was decidedly adult, if human at all. which was fine with Waters. Years later, he would "water" down his edge in search of a larger audience. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, as long as the films are still good.

Greenaway burst onto the feature-film scene in 1982 with The Draughtsman's Contract, a movie listed as a favorite among many genuine film buffs, even though it reportedly contains some of the “ugliest sex scenes ever filmed." Since that lime, Greenaway has worked on projects of various scope and content. Unfortunately, Greenaway is a British film maker, and his films are hardly available for analysis.

His latest project, The Cook, the Thief, his Wife and Her Lover, is now ready to surface amid a struggle to change the X rating to an R. Greenaway (or any Brit for that malter) probably doesn’t understand the American ratings system he is struggling with and shouldn’t bother worrying about those who grant it any esteem. His new film will play at an art theater, and that's exactly where it belongs, with a rating or not.

The Cook, the Thief. His Wife & Her Lover is cinema at its most fascinating, disturbing and inventive. The whole picture is terribly simple In concept and execution, yet it reads like a tempestuous masterpiece.

First there are sets. The majority of the film takes place along a corridor of live rooms or areas, each with its distinct hue and atmospheric flavor. The camera moves in a line down the corridor from room to room at a lackadaisical pace. Such movements are frequent, but they don't ever lose their value because every inch of the screen is constantly filled with rich detail and movement.

The areas are all part of an exquisite French restaurant where meals are works of art. As a character moves from one area to the next, an almost total change in hue occurs, including whatever outfit a patron might be wearing. The color patterns are all symbolic of the main actions that occur in each area.

Next there's the story. The title gives away a good deal but leaves plenty room for expansion. A gangster and his wife eat at the restaurant every night. In addition to having no respect for anyone there, Albert abuses his wife, Georgina, at all times. He's loud and obnoxious and always has his way because he's surrounded by a gang, which he also affords no respect.

Richard, the cook, is a tolerant man who succumbs to Albert's will yet guides whatever affairs he can, including the one Georgina is having with quiet Michael, who sits at his table and reads. Georgina's periodic excursions to the bathroom annoy Albert, but he can hardly grasp her true intentions on his own. After several days of this lovers' game the two are finally revealed, and revenge is served up by Albert. In the end, Georgina gets her own revenge, with the assistance of the cook and his staff.

I wouldn't dare fill in the sordid bits that occur in between, but let it be known that things get quite nasty. The debate about the rating is certainly not over sexual material, but over the impact of the material and delivery as a whole. There are moments when viewers sit repulsed, jaws dropped down to their toes, barely able to look. Not only are these scenes necessary to the film, but they are highly calculated and stylized. This is no small-budget horror flick, although it's about as horrifying as you can get. Greenway's attitude toward such exhibition is pertinent in understanding the film. “We see so much violence that is deodorized and sanitized and which is somehow irresponsible. Blood from corner to corner and the audience goes away after a snicker, and it means nothing at all. It strikes me that that kind of violence is extremely dangerous; there is no cause and effect.”

Greenway's film is full of cause and effect. but not without its flaws. Albert's constant Ill-humored bantering lends to wear viewers down, as its no doubt intended to. His revenge hinges on finding the location of the lovers' hideout, which is revealed far too easily and predictably. Also, Georgina’s bedside exposition to Michal is probably unnecessary. Regardless, the result Is a grand, elegant, extremely thoughtful and disturbing tale, unlike anything I've seen. and unmatched in its regard as a dark comedy.

The film actually does take one opportunity to lighten up and look at itself as the audience does. Upon their fourth or so meeting in the kitchen, the lovers finally speak to each other. Michael tells Georgina of a film he saw in which the two lovers first spoke only halfway through the film, and immediately lost interest in each other. Fortunately, they don't choose this route, and the pace continues.

Although I can hardly recommend this film to the casual viewer, I can confidently salute It as brilliant cinematic execution and direction. Those interested in the form and structure of a movie will undoubtedly be surprised. Those who are out for shock value might also appreciate it. If you do see this film, make sure you eat before you go; you may find it hard to eat again!

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover starts tomorrow at Cinema In Your Face.