Reviews

Quite simply, one of the worst movies I have ever seen. This movie TRIES to be a social satire, but it is so broad, so clumsy, so turgid, so bloated, so self-conscious, so obvious, so sophomoric, and so clichéd that you will want your two hours back. Do not, under any circumstances, rent, TiVo or accidentally find yourself viewing this movie. It's a disaster and a colossal failure on every level. Nothing works. Nothing. It doesn't make you think. It doesn't do anything but club you over the head. Dialogue is painful. Acting is cringe-inducingly vaudevillian. Dax Shepherd plays such a convincing idiot you believe he has actually been brain damaged during filming, but instead of being interesting, it is off-putting, and tiresome. Luke Wilson flounders around, completely bereft of personality, playing the same earnest naif he always plays, and basically since the film ostensibly revolves around him, there is no emotional performance anchoring this mess and giving it any credibility whatsoever. The rest of the performances are equally inept, with actors flailing around in an effort to find a tonal consensus and all of them visibly aching to return to their trailers.

This movie is the most over-hyped, underwhelming mess I have seen in some years. Incoherent and idiotic, it combines disgusting brutality with stupid writing and unconvincing acting, creating a torpid, bloated, overwrought dreary mess that is so unpleasant, so torturous and so dismal that it is akin to having a tooth extracted without nitrous oxide. I literally thought this was a joke for a while--how could millions of people be so in love with this mess--but apparently people are lemmings.

The central character is SO APPALLINGLY EVIL--so mean, so insane, so brutal, such a DICK--that it just slams the film into the wall. He is so bad that watching him becomes a chore, and silly at the same time.

Direction of the actors reacting to him is like something out of a junior high school production of "King Lear". Everyone either stammers and quakes and stares in abject fear at this schmuck or salutes him with a "jahwohl" that would have given Hitler a hard-on.

The art direction would be fine if we were all beetles and lived in humus in the forest. As I am not, it was barely discernible on the screen, with the saturation of darkness and the fuzzy lensing and the cobwebs and smoke and all the other crap he threw into every shot. The creatures are nothing you haven't seen in the cantina scene in Star Wars back in 1977. Feh.

This film is TERRIBLE. DO NOT FALL FOR THE HYPE. Puppets and CGI notwithstanding, it is a train wreck.

I am only commenting because there actually seem to be people who like this movie. Now, since I like a lot of bad things, I normally don't presume to disparage anyone who likes something I don't--that's what makes the world go 'round. However, in this case, I have to wonder if the world has taken leave of its senses.

I don't care about the murky, almost incoherent special effects, the worst, most horrifically disappointing FX since I don't know when. If you liked them, OK.

I don't care about the stupid errors like fire in space, or implausible plot points...whatever, I can enjoy stupid errors and not diminish my movie-going fun.

I will pass on the absolutely inept Ben Affleck. Someone sometime decided this loser could act. Let me ask--has he been in one decent movie since "Good Will Hunting"? And I am NO GWH fan, by the way.

I don't even care about the gloppy fake sentiment at the end, the goopy silly over the top nonsense when the asteroid is imminent and mankind is about to get wiped out.

What gets me is the idiotic dialogue, the absolute unwatchably awful words that every decent actor in the movie is forced to gag out, grimacing. How did people like Steve Buscemi get stuck in this turkey? He was in Con Air--wasn't that loud and stupid and bombastic enough? The hideous editing--is there a shot in the movie lasting more than eight seconds? Seriously. SERIOUSLY. The deafening music. The dreadful, dreary scenic design. Did I mention the unwatchably bad script? You know, Michael Bay, you're the least talented person on this earth, and the luckiest. Studios keep giving you hundreds of millions of dollars to simply flush down the toilet. I think the four year old who paints the masterpieces selling for thousands of dollars in the Midwest could direct a movie better than you.

Good LORD, do people have no sense of humor anymore or what?? This movie was not intended to be CINEMA, OK? It was supposed to deliver mindless summer diversion via good old fashioned guns, bombs, car chases and hot people. Hey--it DID.

I have slogged through pages upon pages of comments here talking about having wasted money to sit through it, how it is terrible, etc. I simply don't understand what you guys are talking about. What, exactly, did you expect from this movie? North By Northwest?? Citizen Kane? The previews and trailers had hot people blowing crap up and some quasi-witty banter. Hey--the movie had hot people blowing crap up and some quasi-witty banter. How you would enter the theater expecting this movie to be some kind of transformative experience is beyond me.

I hate action movies and this one entertained me just fine. It was clever enough not to be boring, attractively designed enough not to be dull visually, and fast paced enough to keep me engaged for the most part. Is Pitt Sean Connery? No. Is Jolie Audrey Hepburn? No. Does it matter? No. If you didn't find anything to like this movie, there is something wrong with you, plain and simple.

I just read a review from someone on here that spent two pages lambasting this movie for being MISOGYNIST! LOL. Rather than laud the film, which I think at this point is unnecessary, I would prefer to respond to this completely overinvested and misguided person's claims that the film marginalizes and hates women.

The reason this film doesn't deal with the female characters except as how they affect the male characters is that the MOVIE isn't ABOUT the female characters. This movie is about one person. Miles. Jack, Stephanie and Maya all exist to illustrate various aspects of Miles and his inability to deal with the parts of his personality that they challenge or elucidate. The reason Stephanie is peripheral is that she is PERIPHERAL. That doesn't make her marginalized...that doesn't make the movie misogynist, and that doesn't make this movie insidiously anti-woman. Maya takes an indeterminate amount of time to even call Miles back at the end, so your point that she should never have contact with him again to show solidarity with Stephanie is nebulous, at best. It could have been months since he sent her that letter, and the fact of the matter is, he knocks on her door, but you have no idea what happens afterwards. She could open it, and throw something at him. Secondly, why should Maya never see Miles again? HE told her the truth, albeit after a long time. HE wasn't Jack, to quote him in the film. She called him on it, dumped him, and he paid the price. Why should Maya risk never finding happiness to suit her friend? This isn't high school--this is real life, and people do things that are stupid, bad, selfish or ill-advised all the time. Once Maya had a chance to get over her anger and perhaps understand his human failings, maybe she actually possesses the ability to show compassion and forgive. You act like she's been lobotomized.

Your point, gwmandpc or whatever your name was, that JACK is supposed to be the protagonist, or the one we all identify with, is completely off base. Jack's behavior is long standing. We see him interact with Stephanie to simply get an idea of what he has been doing to women all this time. Identify with him? How about pitying and having contempt for him? I didn't see one person in the theater rooting him on...everyone was saddened by his inability to cope with his failure as an actor, and everyone I was with--close to 15 people--seemed to understand that the way he was with women had nothing to do with the women, and everything to do with him.

I could go on and on, but frankly, I think you have to have too much time on your hands to peg this as anything other than a character study of ONE person. Women are secondary in this movie. That's it. It's not a commie plot.

What a weird movie experience this was. Not weird in a typically Tim Burton way, but weird regardless of who the director was. You have to look at this film two ways--as a movie, and then as a Tim Burton movie. It isn't exactly successful as the first, and it is radically different from previous efforts as the second. I can't exactly recommend it, but it was certainly interesting to see, and I look forward to some enjoyable heated discussions with people over the years about it.

The main problem is the pacing. It dragged terribly through the entire second act and most of the third. I mean, it lumbered, and I am not one who needs a lot of action or even dialogue to be riveted by a movie. He tried hard to weave a convincing narrative, but gets mired down in ideas that aren't fully developed and ultimately, the movie collapses on itself.

It also turned itself upside down trying to make a point that ultimately isn't made very convincingly, largely due to skeletal dialogue Billy Crudup's character has to mouth rather lamely. He wants to know the real guy his dad is...dad never told him the truth...he never talked with his dad...did it never occur to him to talk to his mother? Visit all the people his father told him about a thousand times? He finally goes to see one person when his dad is on his deathbed and I really saw no point to the entire encounter. Given that dad is a guy who never shut up and obviously worshipped his family, I found it hard to believe the whole "I-resent-you-Dad" shtick.

What I love about Tim Burton's work is the visual element. I say to people all the time that half the time, I just throw in a Burton DVD and hit the mute button, looking at his films like art instead of movies. I have never felt that he was a particularly engaging storyteller, feeling instead that his movies all relied so heavily on the visual that it was a lot like eating too much candy...afterwards, you're still hungry and kind of queasy. This movie suffers from a bit of the same problem. The visuals are more whimsical than we're used to, more naturalistic but the overall sense of imagination that makes me gasp from Burton normally isn't present throughout. There are moments of inspiration--the popcorn, the daffodils--but overall, I get the impression that he is just trying too hard.

The performances are sublime, with especial kudos to Ewan MacGregor. This man is simply celestially talented. He lights up the screen like a supernova. Jessica Lange is wasted, and Alison Lohman is so eerily her spitting image that I think she must have been cloned. Albert Finney is terrific, Steve Buscemi and Danny DeVito seem to be having the time of their lives, and even the mostly wooden Billy Crudup acquits himself well at the end.

This is the question plaguing me after seeing the reviews posted here and on other message boards about this movie. How did audiences get so stupid? When did character studies become too complicated for the average person to follow?

Folks, this isn't a murder mystery. This movie could have been about raising soybeans. This movie is about PEOPLE. What makes them good, what makes them bad, what makes them who they are, and how fallible human beings do stupid things that haunt them for the rest of their lives. Good people do bad things, evil people live among us without being held accountable, bad guys don't get caught and there is no rhyme or reason for what happens in the world.

The reason Larry Fishburne wanted to be in this film is probably because he wanted to be part of an experience that looks as though it was one of the more satisfying ones careerwise for just about everyone in it. I agree, he is not used much, but it was nice to see him and Laura Linney even if it wasn't to great effect.

Speaking of Laura Linney, her speech at the end is her attempt to justify her life and her place in it. She judges her own cousin for her disloyalty instead of feeling anguish and compassion. She is a woman who is committed to ignoring the sins of the past and of the present to protect her future. This is a theme throughout the film. Many people have things in the past that bother them, and the film explores the consequences each person has to face--or chooses to ignore--because of what fate has visited upon them in their lives.

This is a delicate, tiny film told in epic style in a very old-fashioned manner that credits YOU with having intelligence and patience. Instead of whining that the ending is ambiguous, maybe take a minute and try to understand why the most deliberate and methodical of directors would choose to end the film in that way. What is he trying to say? That life is uncertain...that nothing is as it seems...that people are mysteries, that nothing can be taken for granted...it is a revelatory ending, in my opinion, completely perfect and utterly in keeping with the vagaries of the movie. You don't know what these people are going to do because they are REAL PEOPLE, not cardboard cutouts in a Hollywood studio executive's office being moved around to suit the plot. This movie is a MIRACLE.

It takes a sophisticated film maven to truly appreciate "Showgirls" for the genius piece of camp art it is. Besides myself, I have found few people who can truly appreciate it for the gasp-inducing paean to penis it is. How great is this movie? No, seriously, how PHENOMENAL is this movie? Again and again I watch in rapt fascination, delirious with glee as it gets more and more horrifyingly awful and more and more garishly tacky with repeat viewings. Was Gina Gershon ever more perfect? Was there EVER a worse performance than Elizabeth Berkeley's? Was ever a film more misbegottenly awful than this one? Was there ever a more phallic-worshipping, self-indulgent movie made by a supposedly competent professional? And was there ever so much fun in watching the train wreck? I adore it. You have to allow yourself to be swept away by its complete and total awfulness. Seriously. Smoke some pot, open a bottle of Perrier-Jouet or Mumm's, even, get ripped and REVEL in the over-the-top 4th-grade acting, the inane dialogue, the cardboard characters, the cliches, the soulless vapidity, the miscogeny, the jaw-droppingly, astounding gratuitousness of it all...it is simply a bonanza of bad, all wrapped up in twinkly lights and sequins and breasts. It is simply divine. A masterpiece of ineptitude. Majestic in its failure. My all-time favorite. It never, ever disappoints. Open your hearts and minds to the cult of "Showgirls" and you won't ever regret it.

This is one of the worst films of all time. Having to kowtow to about a million Oscar-winning actresses in the cast seems to have been the death knell for what could have been a quirky and charming ensemble piece. Instead, actresses far too big for their roles overact horrendously, the piece-de-resistance being delivered by a dreadful Sally Field at the gravesite of her daughter towards the end of the film. A film about women, adapted from a terrific little play by Robert Harling, the screen adaptation inserts male characters with nothing to do and makes them look like morons as they whoop, holler, provide penis references and embarrass themselves.

The rest of the film is one setup-joke after another, interspersed only with saccharin, maudlin, lackluster "moments" allowing each archetypal Southern woman's character (embittered rich widow, noble widow, prom queen, PTA mother, white trash-turned-Born Again, etc.) to have her moment or two in the sun. An out and out retchfest, a film sure to make you want to run to the shower to get rid of the dirty feeling you'll have after allowing yourself to be manipulated by this cheesy, pointless, humorless, contrived, focus-group-driven piece of schlock.

The one bright spot is a very natural performance by Dolly Parton. Good solid support provided by Julia Roberts' hair.

I don't have anything to add to the comments posted above. A simply wonderful experience. Watching a movie like this makes you wish that American independent film was truly independent like it used to be. A film like this one simply can't be made in this country. It makes you glad there are other countries supporting filmmaking with a unique voice.

I just rewatched this on TBS tonight, after making the mistake of watching the horrendous sequel on HBO last night. I can't recall a summer movie I enjoyed as much as this one when it came out in 1997, or a sequel I found as disappointing.

The charm of the film is its originality and freshness in its execution. Nobody takes themselves too seriously. The affection everyone on the creative team has is evident. In the sequel, everything is taken too seriously.

One of the best ensemble casts in memory. I hate big budget action/sci-fi movies. This one is aces.

Oh, and for the IMDB poster who commented "What was the deal with the bag of marbles at the end". It isn't a literal bag of marbles. It's a bag of galaxies. It shows how small and insignificant we are, and how our existence is totally out of our control. I think it's the most charming and deepest moment in the movie.

I grew up riding. I had a horse, a former pacer named Harvey Patch who had retired from racing. I was raised reading Marguerite Henry's "Misty of Chincoteague" books. There wasn't a book about a horse I hadn't read to the point of memorization by the time I was ten. I regularly go to the track. I went on vacation to Assateague and Chincoteague Island a few years ago. Oh, and I know film, and am the most cynical and jaded person I know about it.

Yes, I loved the film.

It isn't without its flaws. Hillenbrand's book, frankly, left me wondering what all the fuss was about. Many superb and even superior books about horses and racing have been written before, and as I read the book a year ago, I found myself trying to understand what it was that made people so excited about it. What I realized was, it was made to be a movie. People smelled advertising campaigns and box office dollars when they read the book. It practically screams "crowd-pleaser!", and we know how much marketing executives love to be able to use that in a capsule review on a poster. Personally, the idea of seeing a crowd-pleasing movie always makes me want to stay away, but that's another story.

In any case, that's what's wrong with the movie. It's so in love with the organic, inherent, movie-perfect drama of the reality, it can't leave it alone to speak for itself. Instead, this truly magical little fable is drenched in gorgeous technicolor...Seabiscuit thunders past sumptuous shots of the northern California autumnal leaves, we luxuriate in the rainbow of the vibrant silks the jockeys wear--heck, even the ham and peas Maguire's Red Pollard eats one evening for dinner are as glowing and rich as rubies and emeralds, photographed as only Gary Ross ("Pleasantville") can compose a shot, saturated with well-composed period images, and the whole box of Crayolas is topped off with a warm, rich voice-over narration that is one step removed from a Ken Burns film. After all the hard work of everyone to make this the definitive movie about the triumph of the little guy, at the end of the day, it's a Ron Howard film. You're guided, step by step, from feeling to feeling, without having any say in the matter.

I love melodrama and I love Hollywood epic films, and I love movies with Jeff Bridges, and by God, I love horses. I loved this movie in spite of itself. For a movie with the central message of having faith in the little guy, though, ultimately, the message of "Seabiscuit" is that Hollywood has no faith in us responding to a movie on its own terms; instead, draping this in every manipulative technique there is, and pounding us over the head with them.

I just saw this at a Drive-In this weekend, completely primed and ready for summer Angelicious fun, at the most conducive place for enjoying this kind of movie...a Drive-In at the convergence of NJ, NY and PA on the Delaware River, with mountains rising all around and nothing but the stars in the sky to disturb me. I LOVED the first one, and I do mean LOVED. I have been waiting and waiting.....and now, boy, am I bummed.

What a mess. Silly, ok. Not much plot, ok. Self-conscious...well, ok. This? This takes silly and plotless to a place that no movie should go. I don't mind scenes being excuses for these three women to change clothes. I don't mind scenes being frenetically shot, the better to seem like a video. I don't even mind obligatory scenes in strip clubs and convents, in order to give the fetishists something to recall at home when alone. But this...this was just a godawful mess. I'd like my $6 back, please.

It's rare that I think other people speak more eloquently than I do, but I haven't much more to say about this delicate, magical movie after reading the rest of the reviews. One or two people missed the point, and really, although there are many points of view, there are a few basic sorts of films that you either get or you don't. This is one of those. For the person who claims that nothing happens...you need to sit and watch, not run back and forth to the bathroom or the kitchen. No, nobody turns into a vampire or something, but so MUCH happens during this film that it would take a blind person not to see it. It is all about ACTING in this movie--gentle, delicate, intuitive, nuanced--if you are looking for someone to club you over the head, you should move into the Bette Midler aisle. Personally, I couldn't believe how much happened with a mere raised eyebrow. When Babette is gone to see her nephew and the sisters have to cook for the old people again--that brief scene had me on the floor, and there was barely any dialogue. Look again, my friend. Lots happens in this film.

For the person who complained that this is a "food movie" and you hardly see the food--this is NOT a food movie. This is a movie about feeding your soul and your spirit. The meal is simply the method Babette uses to reach the villagers. It is about sensuality--the process of cooking, the carnality of it, the bestiality of the process, and how chaos and blood and mayhem and death can result in something divine, and perfectly balanced. Live turtles! Dead birds! A wheelbarrow full of offal! How can you say it is not about seeing food? It's about seeing what food comes from and is turned into. It's about the processes we go through to make something delicious. If you want long panned shots of plated entrees, I suggest you turn on the Food Network.

This was a horrible, horrible movie. A big, incoherent, pointless exercise in the typical Spielbergian club-you-over-the-head-until-you-get-it style that has absolutely no redeeming value whatsoever. Even the special effects are a waste, adding nothing to the plot and serving only as a place to dump millions of dollars where a few would have done just fine. Does it have a point of view? Who knows? The story is as disjointed as a road map of Afghanistan. Does it have humor, charm, pathos, insight--the few things, at least, you think you can count on from Steven Spielberg? No, no, no, no. Does it have a keen insight, a cold, dispassionate worldview, straightforward emotions, economy of action, like most of Kubrick's films? Uh, no, again.

This film is simply miserable. A hateful, ill-conceived, pointless, overblown, fragmented, shrill, poorly-executed disaster of a film that should serve as a cautionary tale to thousands of wanna-be filmmakers when they wonder if success is something that can be maintained after thirty years in the business. A disaster and a colossal disappointment, from beginning to end.

My sister and I remember watching this incredible telefilm when it came out, and for years afterwards. We were heartbroken when they stopped airing it regularly. It is an outstanding story of a poor, uncared-for young girl and what happens to her. It is stunningly acted, and incredibly moving. Some images are still with me to this day. The sight of Cloris Leachman, unrecognizable, playing this loathsome woman, unkempt, her bosom sagging (with rice!) was so shocking to me as a 7-year old that I have been unable to see her any other way since then, in anything, and Mel Brooks' "Young Frankenstein" is totally ruined for me. There is a scene where Sooner, in an attempt to make friends, does something shocking, and thinking about it 20 years after last having seen this, I am still getting upset and a lump is forming in my throat. It was also available as a book, and I read my paperback copy of it until it fell apart.

This is a terrific thing to watch as a family. It sure will make your children realize how lucky they are, but more, how much you love them, because you won't be able to stop hugging and kissing them when this is over.

This wonderful 1974 film was one I saw when it came out at age 6 and it has stayed with me to this day, 20-odd years later. It is the kind of small, well-written, well-acted, poignant, earnest and meticulously crafted piece of filmmaking that simply does not exist today. Anyone, man or woman, old or young, will truly enjoy watching this great, great film.

I am like a lot of other people in that I saw this as a child some afternoon and it stayed with me to this day. About a year ago, I could not get it out of my mind and decided if I could find out what it was called, I would try to find a copy of the video. I came here, did some poking around, got the title, and, as many other people here have also mentioned, finally found a copy on ebay for sale. If you can find it, buy it, or email me, and I will send you mine if you can't find one to buy.

This movie is absolutely freaky. I watched it for the first time in easily 20 years with a date last night and all I can say is, wow. It is totally trippy and creepy and the guy I was with also thought so, and he is a lot more plugged into the horror/camp movie scene than I am. A few giggles due to the dated dialogue, but a first-rate movie, scary as hell, and worth all the fuss. William Demarest is particularly interesting as the old handyman who knows more than he lets on...oooooooooooooooooooo......spoooooooky.

I shudder to think what the answer might be--maybe I love it because I was in love with a French man when it came out....and Kevin Kline is absolutely spot on as the typical self-centered, lovable rogue that roams freely over there...woe be unto me, lol. Is it too cute? Even smarmy? Is Meg Ryan adorable or reeeeeally irritating? You know, my judgement is kind of clouded...I give up. I like it.

This is one of Lasse Hallestrom's best films. It is a richly textured, completely unique character study of a youngish woman named Renata, played superbly by Holly Hunter in what is arguably her best performance. Renata comes from a close Italian family outside of Boston, and has drifted from job to job without much confidence or direction. Her family is very supportive of her, but rather than drawing strength form their support, Renata seems to dwell safely in it, choosing to let them be her safety net.

Renata goes on a weekend junket where she is recruited to take a position selling timeshares in the Caribbean. While she is there she meets Sam, the dynamic and aggressive top salesman, who impresses her greatly when she hears him speak. A flirtation develops, and she ends up traveling back to Boston with him.

The brash, confident Sam clashes inadvertently with her family's more traditional and reserved style, and while it is evident Sam is crazy about Renata, the family has reservations about him. A compelling and utterly captivating story ensues, which unlike most small films, takes major risks, and allows every character to be completely human.

The story deals with the power of acceptance, of love, of the magic and complete idiocynracy of personal connection, and of what it means to be alive and human. Sam is difficult--he is over the top, and loud, and exhausting. Yet the film is equally balanced in showing his many kindnesses to Renata and her entire family; his generosity, his love for her, and his pride that she loves him. Their love is peculiar and inexplicable, and yet they complete one another in that indefinable way that epitomizes the mystery of love.

it's not a sappy love story. The movie shows people warts and all, and loves them anyway. All the characters are respected. By the end, I am usually in tears. Renata tells her parents, "This is MY adventure!" and when you watch this, I think you will agree.

I have seen this several times, and while I would not consider myself a student of sci-fi, I like it well enough to consider this an important film. While by today's standards the special effects are appallingly bad, for its day, in the context of the 70s, it was quite advanced.

If you judge the acting and costumes, etc., by today's standards, you will be sadly disappointed. Few of the technical elements have aged well, and the script is clunky and dated. The acting is very--overly--earnest, and waaay too sincere, and you can imagine the cast truly signing on to the project in the belief that they were going to be part of some kind of seminal work about freedom and self-expression. The script is rather lethargic and the interesting ideas are buried too far down in the first half of the film, and then, in the second half, club you over the head.

It is really unfortunate that many of these reviews focus on what has not held up well ,and what is bad about this film, rather than on the interesting ideas it brings up and what it managed to do in its day.

Roscoe Lee Browne and his creepy "Box" always stick with me for weeks after I watch("Fish...Plankton...Sea greens...Protein from the sea..."),and Peter Ustinov is wonderful in a role which to me has always been somewhat underwritten.

Unfortunately, I find myself getting bogged down in the details of the film. Who runs the city? Who built it? Why? How did the society lose its collective historical memory? How does the computer work? Where did that Ice World come from? What is the correlation between the ocean and the city? It is a really fascinating premise, which makes you wish someone would remake this film with more emphasis on backstory and less on the interminable Valjean/Javert thing between Logan and Francis.

Overall, this is a film which really bears watching, particularly if you can find it on video or DVD and not chopped into bits on some cable channel on network TV. There are lots of fascinating things in it, and while any person under 30 will find it all a bit quaint, it is really deserving of more respect than most of the other people here have given it.

I agree that Peter Bogdanovitch's ship had sailed by the time he took the helm on this, but for years I have watched this movie feeling guilty. Guilty that I enjoyed it so much. I mean, Marilu Henner? Nicolette Sheridan? What are they doing in this movie? And yet, Carol Burnett, Denholm Elliot, John Ritter, Mark Linn-Baker, and the terrific Christopher Reeve are all legitimate stage actors, and the play is a classic. Somehow, it all comes together. I guess I feel vindicated seeing all these positive comments, because I just love it. Breathlessly paced, hilariously played, and very much an obvious labor of love for the entire cast. You have something else more highbrow to do for 2 hours? Fine, go away. We don't need you.

Now, I have to say that I went to see this based on the review of Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, both of whom could not get through a sentence without breaking into laughter when discussing several key scenes. I had never seen either one of them behave that way before, so I went out--this is, what, twelve years ago?--and plunked down my $5 and proceeded to laugh my butt off for two hours. I found both the sex scene and the scene of the musical to be minor gems, and can't recommend this film highly enough, particularly if you are A) a Jeff Goldblum fan, B) an Emma Thompson fan C) a Rowan Atkinson fan, or D) a musical theatre aficionado. You will laugh about the musical theater scene for years to come, particularly if you think Andrew Lloyd Webber is the antichrist, as I do.