Cinema
Home alone
In a quiet week at the cinema Mark Amory ventured into the video shop There was no promising new film this week so I turned to videos. Video stores reveal to the unsuspecting movie-goer a mass of material that was deemed unwor- thy of theatrical release and therefore remains unknown to him. This is depress- ing, intriguing, frustrating and, perhaps, rewarding: depressing because of the huge weight of tenth-rate though mild sex (Twin Peeks, Suburban Wives II) and violence ('He wanted revenge on a whole town: Intimidator'); intriguing because of the familiar names in unknown films (I had always vaguely assumed that careers snapped off for no apparent reason meant that the actor had succumbed to drugs, drink, theatre, marriage or television); frus- trating because somewhere among the dross there must be the occasional nugget of gold; rewarding if you can find it.
Low expectations are the key to happi- ness. I lowered mine. I tried Once Around because the girl behind the counter liked it. The title gives away nothing. It turned out to be family drama with several big names and a curious, mysterious element. Right 'I've got Nigel Mansell's signature.' away a bride tells her sister on her wedding morning that she has a lover, but she is not the star so this drama recedes. It is the sis- ter, Holly Hunter, good, strong and unlik- able, whom we follow as she is rejected by her fiancé and sets off for a new life.Then there is a single haunting shot — a man in a white suit standing on some rocks before a setting sun, gazing into the sea. When we .meet him he is Richard Dreyfus and not at all like that: he is crude, embarrassing, obnoxious, telling stories about penises, greeting Holly Hunter's mother with, 'How do you describe a rose to someone who has never seen a rose before?' For he marries her, pushes in where he is not wanted, drives her family (Gena Rowlands and Danny Aiello, both excellent) almost demented. We never understand him. Sen- timentality hovers close but never quite breaks in. Rather good.
Dogfight, with River Phoenix, was recom- mended by Sight and Sound, the most aca- demic of our film magazines. All the same, the title suggested to me that the most promising young American star was attempting to cruise into some variation on Top Gun. Not so. In 1963 four marine bud- dies are trying to pick up girls, always enjoyable to watch. ( My favourite real-life dialogue is: Man: 'Have you got a light?' Woman [pause, inviting smile, then slowly]: 'No, I'm sorry to say I haven't.' Man: 'That's all right. I haven't got a cigarette.' They walk off together. As opposed to a friend of mine asking a girl to dance: She: `Do you buzz?' He [boldly]: 'Yes.' She: 'Well, buzz off, then.') Something is odd, though. A pretty girl asks the way and is ignored. Perhaps the boy is too modest, too insecure? No, it turns out they are recruit- ing for an ugly-competition — ah, a dog- fight. Inevitably, Phoenix gets to like his girl, who is caring and sensitive and not that ugly, they wander about and end up in bed. In the morning he is off to Viet- nam. . . . There is a scene where he watch- es her playing the piano and singing, which verges on being boring and I thought was certain to be used as a flashback when he was alone, but it pulled off something bet- ter than that by becoming one of those moments that seem like a memory while they are happening. In the old days it would have been 15 minutes shorter and a B-film. Not Flirting but nice. By Sword Alone is a decent, honourable dud in spite of the originality of its subject — fencing. F. Murray Abraham (remember Amadeus?) gives the retired champion who IS taken on as janitor a dignity, even a depth, that is not in the script, Eric Roberts sneers to effect as the arrogant youngster and their climactic struggle is rather excit- ing. That is because, though they use foils, they are at last fighting not fencing. Other- wise we watch practice and it is a dull spec- tator sport for the uninitiated; but then I am the man who thought that about sprint- ing and look at Chariots of Fire — or rather, if you take my advice, don't.
Previous page
