I really like Oliver Stone about half the time, but the show-offy style he used with Natural Born Killers and J.F.K. doesn’t service Any Given Sunday. Those other films, with their multiple perspectives and drug-induced visions, felt right to employ rapid editing and multiple media. But Any Given Sunday is (or should have been) a reality-based ensemble drama about the rigors and tribulations of everyone who works in football. Freeze-frames, stock photography of rolling thunder clouds, and ecclesiastic Moby music don’t work here — they only serve to portray football as something holy and sacred, and the players as celebrities or gods.
Cate Blanchett stars as the real-life Irish journalist who paid the ultimate price for exposing the burgeoning drug problem in mid-90s Dublin. Outraged after discovering children playing in streets littered with used needles, Veronica Guerin decided to bring the epidemic into the national limelight, risking the life and safety of not only herself but her family as well. Blanchett, always reliable, does a great job portraying Guerin as a woman with a brave public face, even after a shot is fired into her home and a drug lord punches her repeatedly in the face for daring to step foot on his property (the film’s most brutal and disturbing scene).
Director Sidney Lumet showcases a true story ripped from the headlines, about two amateur bank robbers who started a media sensation that exploded further when the public learned of their unusual circumstances. Al Pacino stars as the master-mind of the heist plan that goes to hell and Charles Durning costars as the police captain who tries to manage the 24-hour siege. What’s most remarkable about this story is the robbers’ unexpected courtesy toward their hostages and law enforcement, as well as the reason Pacino’s character needs the money — to pay for his lover’s sex change. Lumet’s unadorned, fly-on-the-wall approach neither sensationalizes nor condescends to any of the material or its characters. Dog Day Afternoon is a mesmerizing mash-up of the gritty and the oddly touching, the darkly comic and the emotionally tense. Frank Pierson took home the Academy Award for his original screenplay, while the film also earned nominations for Best Picture, Director, and Editing (Dede Allen). Pacino was nominated for Best Actor and Chris Sarandon (Fright Night, The Princess Bride) was nominated for his supporting role as Pacino’s exasperated boyfriend. With John Cazale and Carol Kane.
In this remake of a 1971 film, Crispin Glover (Back to the Future, River’s Edge) stars as the title character, a socially misfit momma’s boy with a telepathic connection to the colony of rats collecting in his basement. With his bed-ridden mother and condescending boss constantly picking at his self-esteem, it’s just a matter of time before Willard snaps and sends his army of furry friends to do his bidding. But the rats are a bit like the genie out of his bottle, which complicates this straight-forward little story quite nicely. Willard sews discord into his rat army by favoring the adorable white rat, Socrates, over the very large and envious Ben. So it’s a love/hate relationship between Willard and the rats, and though they may leap at the opportunity to murder for their master, they may also end up being his undoing.
Katharine Isabelle (Ginger Snaps) puts in a solid performance as a student surgeon whose life takes a serendipitous turn into the underground world of extreme body modification in Jen and Sylvia Soska’s American Mary. After one odd surgery procures her some much-needed cash, her name is quickly bandied about the message boards of people who are into things like… horns, tails, split tongues, appendage swaps… you name it, really. One character in the film is trying to look as close to a living Barbie doll as possible, and asks Isabelle’s character to surgically remove her nipples and genitalia (as much as possible). Another is trying to look and sound like Betty Boop. What’s most interesting about American Mary is that it sheds light on a real-life subculture that most people would find interesting and perhaps a little frightening. But the Soska Sisters (who wrote and directed the feature together) paint their subjects in a flattering, sympathetic light. That’s not to say the Soskas don’t take advantage of the sensational potential here — they just do it with respect.
