There’s precious little to keep you interested in this hideous-looking and busily boring shit-fest of a film that is both a nadir for director Tim Burton’s creative trajectory and emblematic of everything wrong with Hollywood in the early 21st century. Much muchness? Indeed. Alice in Wonderland is the cinematic equivalent of a priapism.
I knew I would eventually have to watch this 3-hour 20-minute behemoth and thank goodness it’s over. Doctor Zhivago is a sprawling epic about the Russian Revolution as seen through the eyes of a doctor (Omar Sharif) who wants to have his cake (his wife is played by Geraldine Chaplin) and eat it, too (his mistress is played by Julie Christie). The first half is dense with plotting and myriad characters — I was getting pretty sleepy. But once Zhivago becomes an exile, I became more alert and the movie picked up speed. Still, when it was all over, I was underwhelmed. He loved two women, he inspired a nation, and I just didn’t care.
Fans of Ridley Scott’s Gladiator might be surprised how much they will also enjoy (perhaps even prefer) its progenitor. Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus is a briskly-paced epic, and uncharacteristically emotional compared to his other work. Kirk Douglas is iconic in the lead role, playing a slave forced to fight in the gladiatorial arena for the enjoyment of the aristocracy. Of course he falls in love with a fellow slave girl, of course he escapes, and of course he leads a mammoth army of slaves in revolt against Rome… but when these broad strokes are painted so earnestly, I don’t care. The bleak, bold final act of the film is what really sells the story for me.
Based on the novel Washington Square by Henry James, The Heiress centers around Catherine (Olivia de Havilland), a shy, socially inept young woman who gets swept off her feet by a dashing young destitute (Montgomery Clift). When her father (Ralph Richardson) accuses the man of preying on his daughter’s inheritance, he threatens to cut her off. Putting all her faith in her first love, Catherine ends up brutally betrayed by both men — and begins to trade her naivete and timidity for spite and cruelty.
Straight biographies rarely make great film, but by filtering the subject through another man’s envy, director Milos Forman (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest) delivers one of the best bio-films I’ve ever seen. This isn’t a film about a composer and his music (how boring would that be?) — it’s a film about an insanely jealous contemporary named Salieri. Salieri, played brilliantly by F. Murray Abraham, turns Mozart’s life and accomplishments into his own personal battle with God. Just watch Abraham pretend to be Mozart’s best friend, all while plotting to destroy him, and you quickly appreciate why the man won an Oscar for his performance.
