Intersection (1994) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski) and Tuna |
Egad, what a mess. What is the deal on Richard Gere and bad movies? He's not down there with Freddie Prinze Jr or Pauly Shore in the batting averages, but he must be below the Mendoza line. For a guy who's supposed to be a megastar, he sure doesn't get many base hits. SPOILERS I guess this is supposed to be one of those weepy-ass Bette Davis movies, except that the narrative structure is quite muddled, so I'm not exactly sure if I was supposed to cry in the present, or in the flashbacks, or even in the flash-forwards. I'm not even sure if I can quickly identify which scenes took place in the present, because the past was filled with flash-forwards, and I don't know if that counts as present or not. Richard Gere plays a 40ish architect who founded a business nearly two decades ago with his young wife (Sharon Stone). They are still business partners, but the marriage has failed. I think a good part of the problem in the marriage is that neither one of them has a personality. Stone is totally lifeless in the role, although that is what the script called for. Gere is equally lifeless, just because he's Richard Gere. They never have anything interesting to talk about together. In fact, one of the biggest problems with the script is that no character ever says anything interesting to anyone else. The other main problem is that nothing happens in 99% of the movie. There are a bunch of people doing nothing in the present until they flash backward to a bunch of people doing nothing in the past. |
The basic plot point was that Gere couldn't decide between two women, wife and mistress. I guess his indecision went on for a long time, because he had black hair in the flashbacks, and he was still wearing those 70's polyester clothes from Breathless, but at the end of the movie he was wearing Lord and Taylor, and his hair was grey. |
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The movie might have set some kind of record because it went on for about 30 minutes after the first time I thought it had ended. (Gere died.) But nothing else happened after that except some weepy-ass moanin' 'n wailin' and ironic O'Henry endings. You know those movie moments where the dead guy leaves behind the phone message that is heard only after his death, and seems oh-so-tragic in that light? Well. Get this. Just before his death, Gere wrote his mistress a letter to say that he was breaking it off. But then, he regretted the letter, and called her up to leave a phone message telling her that he adored her, and had to spend his life with her, and that she should meet him at some lonely country rendezvous. So we got yer basic ironic letter and yer basic ironic phone message, and they contradict each other. Gere wrote the letter in his car, at night, in a rainstorm, through his tears, by the light of a flickering all-night "Diner" sign. I didn't make that up. Well, it turned out that Gere never mailed the letter, so his wife was handed it along with the other effects he had on him when he died. She read it, and had a good cry because it showed that Gere was planning to dump his mistress and come back to her, but he died while he was on his way to tell her. Meanwhile, the mistress (Lolita Davidovich) never got the letter, but she did get the phone message, so she had a good cry because Gere was planning to choose her, and died while on his way to their secret country rendezvous. Are you with me so far? We haven't even scratched the weepy-ass surface. The wife and the mistress met in the hospital, right after Gere kicked the bucket, and the following happened:
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Do you believe that? They actually give you something like 30 minutes of weeping, followed by ironic incidents, then more weeping over the irony - all after Gere died! The maudlin sentimentality and improbable plot contrivances in this script would embarrass Charles Dickens himself. This isn't even a five hankie movie. Five hankies wouldn't make a dent in your tears. You better bring a towel. And not one of those little polite ones like they have in the bathrooms of expensive hotels. No, I'm talking about one of those giant beach towels that says "We Be Jammin'", the kind they use to toss the women up in the air in beach movies. This film was scripted by the famous comedy writer Marshall Brickman. No, I'm not kidding. I think this was his only serious movie script. Do you think maybe it was all meant as a joke? I don't know, but if I had written this, that's what I would tell people. |
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