The major characters of this Robert Altman film (based on a Christopher Durang play) act like the lone diner in the French restaurant looks, absolutely deranged, with little hints of "Do not become involved with this person, no matter how desperate." The unfortunate man, a combination of Nosferatu and Rocky Horror's Riffraff, looks on bemused at the antics of the pathetic character played by Julie Hagerty who ruins a first date with Jeff Goldblum simply by opening her mouth. From the moment she announces that she hates gay people, I hated her, not completely because of the homophobia, but the way she uses her way past neurotic personality to demand constant attention. She gets a great takedown by Goldblum, who happens to be bisexual, obviously out to cheat on his stereotypical live-in gay boyfriend, an offensive Christopher Guest.
What's with the gaggle of joggers following Guest around as he prepares to confront Guttenberg, outside of being his therapy session on the run? Genevieve Page, as Goldblum's heavily French accented harridan of a possessive mother, is another example of this film's plethora of unlikable characters. You don't find out until later on in the film how whacked out the two therapists (Tom Conti and Glenda Jackson) are, and it was definitely a waste of Jackson's talents, especially since it was a reunion for her with director Robert Altman. This overuses the Gershwin song "Someone to Watch Over Me" to the point of annoyance, and I'm sure some neurotics had to run to their therapist if they happened to hear it randomly after suffering through the movie. It plays for farce but fails. Altman made many films thar I didn't care for, even after giving it a second chance as a more mature adult, but this one is just indescribable in its hideousness.
What's with the gaggle of joggers following Guest around as he prepares to confront Guttenberg, outside of being his therapy session on the run? Genevieve Page, as Goldblum's heavily French accented harridan of a possessive mother, is another example of this film's plethora of unlikable characters. You don't find out until later on in the film how whacked out the two therapists (Tom Conti and Glenda Jackson) are, and it was definitely a waste of Jackson's talents, especially since it was a reunion for her with director Robert Altman. This overuses the Gershwin song "Someone to Watch Over Me" to the point of annoyance, and I'm sure some neurotics had to run to their therapist if they happened to hear it randomly after suffering through the movie. It plays for farce but fails. Altman made many films thar I didn't care for, even after giving it a second chance as a more mature adult, but this one is just indescribable in its hideousness.