Archives for posts with tag: rufus sewell

This is another one of those movies where people tell you it’s a romantic comedy but literally zero funny things happen in it. It is also so 90s. And not just because it has Joe Fiennes in it.

Martha (Monica Potter) leaves somewhere in the midwest in desperation on the first flight anywhere. Daniel (Tom Hollander) is a record executive on her flight to London, and falls for her, setting her up in a fancy hotel and sending her flowers. Frank (Rufus Sewell) is a failed actor and alcoholic who runs into her by chance the next day and as far as I can tell mostly just creeps the living hell out of her for several hours. Laurence (Fiennes) teaches rich women how to play bridge, and Martha falls for him.

The twist? Daniel, Frank, and Laurence are childhood friends. Daniel and Frank fight over Martha like children; Laurence actually likes her and she actually likes him, but because Laurence is the only person in this movie who isn’t a complete sociopath, he feels bad about stealing her from his friends, and hies himself to a psychiatrist (Ray Winstone).

That’s the movie. It’s insane and terrible. Martha is dumb, irritating, and badly dressed (even by the standards of 1998). Her sad past is underdeveloped but actually kind of alarming. It goes nowhere, obviously. Frank isn’t a cute troubled artist, he’s just the worst. Daniel has even worse clothes than Martha, and is a pushy jerk. Laurence seems like he might be all right, but doesn’t speak enough for you to tell. See? The 90s: bad blond dye-jobs, unexplained grittiness, and dudes who are supposed to come off as sensitive but instead are clearly emotionally stunted. Moodiness is not the culmination of personality.

There are no laughs, and my favorite parts were spotting a young Stephen Mangan at Frank’s audition and Rob Brydon driving a bus(!) at the airport.

Director: Nick Hamm
Rating: R
Length: 98 minutes
Score: 1/5

Advertisements

This movie is basically Love Actually but sadder and more French. I had an actual post but managed to hit the backspace in the wrong field and so that’s all you get for now. Maybe I’ll update later.

Edited: Right, okay, I’m now less annoyed, and fortunately I remembered not to close the TextEdit window with my notes in it.

The framework of this movie: each of twenty directors gets five minutes and Paris. You get roughly what you’d expect out of these; in the Coen Brothers’ contribution, Steve Buscemi gets beat up in a métro station. There’s only the most half-hearted attempt to relate the stories to one another, and I think maybe I wish they’d not bothered. Anyway, I’ve seen more irritating love letters to Paris, and at least this one puts it out there with its title.

Since the movie is a bit fragmented, I’ll move straight to the stray observations. I won’t treat each vignette, because some of them are just too predictable and unmemorable (Gus Van Sant, I’m looking at you).

  • Unlike Love Actually, this film has people who are actually poor or desperately unlucky, not just amusingly bohemian Kris Marshall. Unsurprisingly, this is sad. In fact, one of my notes just says: “sad immigrant from Lagos oh my god so sad.”
  • A horrible French child with a pea-shooter annoys Steve Buscemi as well. The horrible French child is the best part of that sketch.
  • Juliet Binoche sure has a face for tragedy.
  • Rufus Sewell and Emily Mortimer visit Oscar Wilde’s grave in Père Lachaise. She accuses him of being humorless, although this is not true (his offering for that brilliant man’s last words–“Bury me under something ugly”–made me laugh out loud), because what she wants from a man is that he is so hilarious that he quotes Wilde all the time. I submit, honey, that you might be doing it wrong, romance-wise.
  • I hate mimes. And I know everyone hates mimes, but there’s a reason for that.
  • Maggie Gyllenhaal’s character is appearing in a period drama. I’d laugh, but I saw Hysteria, so it just isn’t funny.
  • When you hear English in a French film, it sounds slow and stilted. Native English speakers sound as though they have some sort of aphasia. It’s not quite as painful as a sudden American in a British movie.
  • I did not expect Olga Kurylenko to be my first doubled actor.

Director: Everybody ever; or: Olivier Assayas, Frédéric Auburtin & Gérard Depardieu, Emmanuel Benbihy, Gurinder Chadha, Sylvain Chomet, Joel & Ethan Coen, Isabel Coixet, Wes Craven, Alfonso Cuarón, Christopher Doyle, Richard LaGravenese, Vincenzo Natali, Alexander Payne, Bruno Podalydès, Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Oliver Schmitz, Nobuhiro Suwa, Tom Tykwer, Gus Van Sant
Length: 120 min.
Rating: R, for not a lot of reason except maybe the swearing in the Coen Brothers bit
Score: 2/5? I found exactly one vignette touching (“Place des Fêtes”), a few pretty, and the Gurinder Chadha one (“Quais de Seine”) cute if fairy-tale. I’m not mad at it.