Reviews

I was admittedly rather tired last night when I fell asleep early on in this film but when I went back to the beginning and tried again I discovered that, tired or not, the film is really pretty stultifying in some ways; it's easy to break concentration or just plain doze off while watching a film like this. It's sloooooooow. With a lot more 'o's than I've used, even. 'Deliberately paced' doesn't cut it as a euphemism this time, I'm afraid. And I am not of the MTV Generation, though early on in the piece I simultaneously wondered if (a) this was going to be one of those meandering films that doesn't tell you anything, even if not overtly telling you or spoonfeeding the audience, and (b) that even in today's cinema where average shot lengths of a few seconds duration are considered 'lingering,' having shot lengths that appear to be on average about 25 minutes was not really much of an antidote.

Soon enough, though, my fears were at least partially allayed when a bit of the backstory filled in. Yeah, to Antonioni all that may matter at first is that the dude's looking for something, whereas we quite naturally want some idea of what exactly he's doing; I can't begrudge the director for making us wait a while longer for that information, really. To be honest, though, the story's still a little confusing and kind of wanders here and there, but somehow I get the feeling that the director was less interested in telling a narrative story and more interested in painting a visual journey. To me, really, that's what saved the film and makes it worth watching and already increasingly estimable in my view.

In a more conventional film, perhaps Jack's character would have continued the charade and gone further into the arms-dealing world (in fact, that's what I thought he was, as a journalist, doing all along) but if that was his intent it's sure not very clear. And, again, in the end it doesn't really matter (not to say that such a story wouldn't make a great film in its own right!).

The film is stunningly framed and shot and composed very thoughtfully. That much is obvious from the opening frames. Magnificent use of locations, too, and of local people. Even though, at first (and, ultimately, at the end) I wasn't sure what was happening, I still enjoyed watching the screen and seeing those impressive visuals unfold. The film is of its time in that the pacing is NOT of breakneck velocity, and of course I love the '70s-ness of the dress and all of that cool stuff, but it's shot with such care and timeless vision that the actual film itself and the way the pictures unfold is anything but dated and, in fact, still holds its own among the best products of contemporary directors influenced by the likes of this guy.

Maria Schneider has an alluring quality about her and all the rest of the players involved are fine, but it's Jack's film. It may be his best screen performance, at least of the ones I've seen, and at the very least it's certainly high on the list. I just recently saw him in "The Crossing Guard," in which I thought he revealed again just how good he can be, but here he is similarly perfectly natural and very much believable in the role. I'm neither a huge fan nor a huge detractor of jack Nicholson, and even when I think he's just kind of walking through his role or phoning it in -- and, really, he DOES play 'Jack' a LOT -- he's still a compelling presence and his stock Jack character remains an appealing one. Here he's even better than usual. He has to be, too, because all those great visuals alone aren't enough to carry a film.

In the end, what made me like this film and feel compelled to write about it is that the director's incredible abilities (coupled with, I assume, input from a very talented DP and others) created a visual tapestry that made the main character's external and internal journeys come alive. The acting was good, too, and a few of the lines very much packed with universal truths. That final shot is the real payoff, in some ways, because it really sums up how this film makes its point; at first I started to wonder just when the camera was going to cut to, you know, like, TELL US THE STORY, but suddenly I became aware of something very odd ("hey, wasn't the camera behind bars a second ago?") and as it continued I sat there quite literally amazed at the skill of this filmmaker. It's like the long-lost twin of the opening to "Touch Of Evil," separated by a couple of decades but very much a similar device and just as skilfully rendered. The fact that a brief perusal of this discussion board reveals I was likely wrong in my conclusion regarding the rather open-ended final scene (to be honest, me thinking that our hero had killed the bad guy and escaped in the driving-school car was a result of paying more attention by that point to that amazing shot than to some of the actual details within it). Then again, I think, the actual story was not really the movie's point.

I may never again feel the need to see this film again, but the fact that I already like it more than when I finished watching it, and the mere fact of that almost-final shot EXISTING, says a lot about this film's impact. Glad I woke up for it...

Really, the '70s, looking back now, seem like some mythic age when all seemed possible. Well, yeah, okay, there IS A degree of myth there and much of what the '70s really were was hardly paradise (the legacy of Vietnam, Watergate, gas crises, leisure suits, etc) but, for me, my lingering and increasingly nostalgic affection for the decade is largely forgivable on the grounds that I was a kid then and so a good deal of that affection is more a yearning for the simpler times of kidhood than any particular era's social or other trappings. Still, I think it's undeniable that some pop-cultural highs remain from the '70s -- look at all the truly great films made then, especially by what you might call the American New Wave (Coppola, Scorsese, Spielberg, etc) -- and if you were to look at any Top 40 chart from, say, 1973 you'd see that in those days some stellar music came right to you via pop radio, unlike the garbage on the Top 40 today. In those days, you didn't have to dig deeply to seek it out as you have to do now if you want to hear anything but committee-written, autotuned corporate pablum with synthesized backing music 'sung' by manufactured and largely interchangeable plastic stars-de-jour, country music these days hardly offering refuge 'cos it's mostly the same stuff with steel guitar and hats added. Besides, I'll never get over my devotion to the phenomenon known as "The Six Million Dollar Man," Big Jim dolls....um...ACTION FIGURES...and, yeah, that poster of Farrah. All this basically explains why I'm willing to overlook the '70s stamp that's all over this production. I'm not talking about the production values and special effects -- hey, they're a product of their time and the TV budget, and to their credit are not distractingly bad -- but the hair styles, flared pants, and uniforms that bear more than passing resemblance to the infamous leisure suit. And, yes, it's good to know that disco is alive and well in the piece's 2004 (actually, I guess disco really WAS alive and well in the REAL 2004, as it turned out, and flared pants even made a comeback...the miniseries is more visionary than it might have seemed had we seen it in the pegged-pants '80s). In fact, to me, the '70s touch is one of the cool things about this work.

I have to say that, overall, the miniseries is pretty draggy. It kind of belabors a few points beyond all reason, using ('wasting' would be another word) precious screen time, and here I'd like to point out that I don't believe myself to be either especially short on the attention span side nor a product of the MTV Generation's need for quick cuts and rapid resolutions. From what I've read so far here on IMDb, even the book's author concurred on that point. I should mention that I never read the book(s) and I understand that some of the difficulties I had with this piece (like the totally illogical evacuation of Martian colonists to an Earth on the verge of global nuclear destruction) were in the source material. Yeah, it could have been speedier, and yeah it's stepped in the look and feel of its time, but I did come away from the epic with the word 'interesting' foremost in my mind. Not great, but not bad, either.

There're some great actors aboard. When I discovered that watching this was going to be a lengthy exercise (I'd never heard of it before, though I'd heard of the book, and when I grabbed it at my local library I just figured it'd be worth risking two hours of my time to watch it) it was the list of credited actors that swayed me to watch the thing. Rock Hudson, a few years before his very unfortunate decline and demise, looks as rocky as ever but is never really fully engaged. He's not anywhere near bad, but he's not really pulling out all the stops (if you haven't seen it, I strongly recommend John Frankenheimer's "Seconds" if you have never seen the Rock as anything but a relative lightweight, acting-wise), but he sure looks good and carries about him that certain air of authority and gravity. Most of the other actors with substantial parts at the very least acquit themselves well, and it's great to see some of them in action (though some, like Roddy McDowell, get little play). Bernie Casey is, as usual, very good in his role that becomes more interesting just before he's taken out of the picture. Christopher Connelly as the increasingly flustered Average Joe and Bernadette Peters as the vain goddess combine to provide what may be my favorite part of this episodic compendium. The most excellent Darren McGavin, a few years out of Kolchak and a bit before "Christmas Story" is a real highlight, as always. He was a comedy classic, wherever he showed up, even in the most serious roles. A national treasure, no less, greatly missed. Nice to see Spiderman on Mars, too. Wasn't that a David Bowie project, Spiderman on Mars? Not all the acting is top-notch and, indeed, some of it (especially from secondary characters) is stilted and as cardboard as can be, basically a lot less convincing than acting in the average TV commercial (Keanu Reeves is Olivier compared to some in this cast).

Overall, I'd recommend this for the patient viewer who's able to weather a bit of thumb-twiddling while waiting for some actor to deliver some portentous line or emotion that we already saw coming and have had explained to us once already, about five seconds before. It's...well, it is...it's _interesting_.

I happened to see this at my local library and, generally liking John Cusack even in lesser properties (really, "2012" takes the big-dumb-blockbuster movie template to a ridiculous level, but it's still watchable in part because of oddballs like Cusack and Woody H.), thought I'd give it a try even though it sounded a tad more somber than what I was in the mood for. I'm glad I watched it. I like 'road movies,' anyway, and this one is built around that classic structure, but there's a lot more said in this film than is actually SAID.

A perusal of comments regarding this film reveals the not surprising ability of _Moron americanus_ to totally miss the point, in this case that group being divided about equally into people who bemoan the fact that every facet of the film was not laid out for them and explained at length, undoubtedly using small words, and those who in true knee-jerk manner decry the whole as 'liberal' propaganda or anti-American, whatever THAT is supposed to mean in today's USA. The first criticism stems, I think, from the film being one that includes some relatively subtle and quite realistic (i.e., not always making narrative sense) aspects to the storyline and the characters' journeys. The second criticism is, predictably, totally off target. This film has no political agenda, at least not one that's going to hit any sane person over the head. The main character's brother gets in a few jibes about the Bush Jr maladministration but he's not without flaws himself and his more hawkish, neocon-enabling brother is similarly not devoid of sense or perspective. The actor and citizen John Cusack IS one of the people who, like me, sees the whole Iraq fiasco as not just flawed from the start but massively criminal (not at the level of those sent abroad to prosecute the war but at the level of the chickenhawks in DC and elsewhere who blithely sent them) but, to his and the film's credit, his character in this piece does not have some sudden epiphany at film's end and start wearing Birkenstocks and sipping lattes.

The bottom line, to my mind, is that in this film the tragedy at the story's core happens to be one with military context but that, when it comes down to it, the very touching and well-presented (cutting to the music was a good touch) beach scene near the end could be ANY situation wherein a parent is telling his or her children that the other parent has died. That's what I felt, anyway, that the film was far more universally relevant and that particular scene universally applicable; to me, that's what made it even more sad, thinking of how many millions of people over the years, around the world, have had moments like that.

The acting is perfect. The two kids are excellent in what, so far, remains the sole film role for each. John Cusack is great, too, not only playing against type to a degree but playing his part completely convincingly. And when I saw the music was by Clint Eastwood I, of course, immediately wondered "THE Clint Eastwood?" -- his music is fitting and used very effectively. A talented man, is old Clint.

I've long kinda liked Wesley Snipes as a screen presence; "Murder At 1600," "Passenger 57," "Rising Sun," and the two Blade films that I've seen all entertain well, for example, and one thing I always liked about him was that his characters usually differed from the action-hero norm by having odd little foibles not common to the genre and often being all too human in a self-effacing way ('til he saves the day, of course). I've seen "The Art Of War" a couple of times and liked it, though it's neither his best work nor the best film of its kind ever produced...it's still a good, solid enough effort.

I just watched most of the this alleged sequel. It's horrible. I didn't watch it all because I kept falling asleep, and that turned out to improve the experience considerably. In fact, it's 5 AM now and I need to try to get back to sleep, but I felt compelled to wander over to the computer to warn my fellow astronauts of the dire nature of this cinematic failure before another potential viewer wastes even 20 minutes in attempting to endure it. I got the DVD from the library but some of you may resort to renting or even -- and this prospect sickens me -- BUYING it, and I can't go another minute with that possibility weighing heavy on me.

To be honest, I was really tired so perhaps it's not entirely a shock that sleep might finally overtake me, but the real catalyst for my finally giving in to the arms of Morpheus was that the only dramatic tension that the film imparted to me -- what, exactly, does it have to do with the FIRST film? -- was at some point answered by the sheer pointlessness of the plot (for want of a better word; 'anti-plot'?). This piece has nothing to do with the first film, a fact that in itself would not be such a big deal if the film had anything to do with anything ELSE. This waste of digital video tape was exceedingly poorly written, if it was actually written at all, directed by a person who apparently is, talent-wise, several rungs down the ladder from the typical executor of a birthday party home movie, and for the most part the acting was not acting at all, but in the sense of it being incredibly BAD rather than being at all naturalistic. This piece of garbage fails on every level. Even dozing off and periodically waking up, after a while realizing that the film doesn't even warrant the usual rewind to see what I've missed, didn't rob me of any understanding of what they substituted for an actual plot. In fact, it might have improved the whole. You might notice, of course, that this review contains no spoilers; spoilers are simply not possible when the film has no discernible plot. Calling this dreck 'amateurish' would hint that it might actually have some charm, a quality that (like every other positive quality) it is sorely lacking. Indeed, this film is one that would realize its true potential if subjected to that one-minute-long-movie-acted-by-bunnies approach, though I doubt any bunnies would be desperate enough to resort to remaking this one.

Avoid it. Cross to the other side of the street if you see it coming. If you feel bad for the star's tax strife, just mail him a check; maybe if he gets enough of them he'll stop pumping out egestae like this...

I'm off for some more sleep. The only stay I have against having nightmares about this film is that it's so forgettable a property that as you watch it your memory of the previous scene fades blessedly from mind.

This is absolute garbage, unless it's some kind of subtle parody of the entire disaster film genre. If the latter were true, I'd submit that it's a little TOO subtle. Pretty much every scene, especially during the second half, fails on multiple levels.

I didn't realize that this was a sequel, though that explains my extreme confusion at the start of the piece when a rapid succession of events and locations made me wonder if I'd grabbed a copy of the "Reader's Digest" version of the film or had somehow started the second half of it and was watching a recap. It was so confusing that I went back to the DVD menu to see which half of the thing I started watching.

There're some good actors in this, as well as actors capable of more than they're often handed (Randy Quaid, for example), but there're also some whose acting skills I doubt; I've never really admired Shannen Doherty's thespian skills and some of the interchangeable-but-mostly-good-looking younger cast members likely belong to the "I'm pretty, so I'll be an actor" school of performance art. Even the best actors aboard this piece, including seasoned veterans like Tom Skerrit, Robert Wagner, and James Brolin, couldn't save the day. After a while, toward the end (finally!) of proceedings, I began to drift away with eyes wide open, realizing that I'd missed exactly who was dispatched by tornadoes and realizing simultaneously that I didn't care any more.

I'm a scientist but I'm not a climate scientist. My knowledge of severe weather events falls pretty much into the general knowledge category, with some extra edge provided by working around climate researchers, reading tidbits relevant to my research interests in coral reefs and fishes, and having endured a few hurricanes because of exposure attendant to the nature of my research field. But even my minimal knowledge related to these kinds of weather events was offended by blatant errors in the script.

First, obviously, there's no such thing as a Category 7 (or even Category 6) hurricane. Sure, the way things are going we may well have to extend the scale that far, so perhaps we can give them this one. There is still no excuse for rattling on about a Category 6 tornado, though -- they don't come in categories. And, particularly offensive to me even when I'm NOT wearing my scientist hat, the alleged scientists on screen here should be completely ashamed for referring to 'data' as a singular, as in "that data" (the correct, and ONLY correct, form would be "those data"). It's a small point, perhaps, but it's indicative of the sloppiness that's apparent here. Such sloppiness totally contrasts this piece with a film like "Dante's Peak," that quite well captured the feel of a field research team and for the most part did its homework (thanks to technical advisers and to the director's long-term interest in geology). These actors better never let me catch them again saying such things as "that data." Any real scientist who ever deploys such an atrocity should similarly be punished severely, perhaps by forcing them to watch this dreck.

On the bright side, I did get to look at Gina Gershon for a while. In fact, looking at Gina Gershon -- generally a good idea -- will for me likely remain the most (only) memorable part of this entire production.

I'm willing to lay off the production values, especially the special effects, given the budget and timeframe constraints they obviously faced. For the most part, the special effects are well done and where they fail it's usually more as a result of the bad science or other inaccuracies involved, not the actual effects themselves. The annoying, gimmicky cinematography, undoubtedly intended to portray hyperkinetic action throughout (this film rarely pauses, obviously its creators never heard how the most important parts of music, among other things, are often found in or bolstered by the pauses), at least helps cover for the general lack of perceptible peril in half of the perilous scenes.

Also, there's lots of bright sunny weather for being in the middle of a gynormous weather event. And surprisingly little rain, as is sometimes the case, and what rain there is somehow manages to fall vertically during a hypothesized Category 7 hurricane. The most severe hurricane that I've endured (so far) had sustained winds of 120 mph and gusts up to 164 mph. There was talk of it still being a Category 4 when it struck (≥131 mph sustained), because the Weather Service's recording instruments were destroyed partway through, but it definitely was a good, solid Category 3. It's hard to keep a field scientist out of the field and, knowing that I was risking a Darwin Award, I was outside for a good chunk of the storm and (dodging all sorts of things that were flying about me and painfully aware of my fragility) videotaping the show. The force of that storm was such that I was able to do a handy Marcel Marceau leaning-into-the-wind impersonation with ease and peeking around the corners of buildings into the full force of the wind would not only snap my head back but really do a number on my eyes. Now, in this film we're supposedly talking about sustained wind speeds twice that and the actors are running around as if it was just a 50-mph breeze? And the rain's falling straight down, rather than coming in sideways like a billion bullets? Well, sure, I guess, in a universe in which a telephone pole affords protection form an incoming trailer home. Really, even if the science was right, this'd still be execrable simply because the writing's so dire.

It's also how amazing how unbelievably (literally -- as in being absolutely unbelievable) quickly this unprecedented storm dissolved in the wake of DC turning off its power. I'd say it was an anticlimax but, really, by this point it was just a mercy killing.

A few spoilers...

"Breakdown" is an exceptionally well-conceived, well-acted, and well-filmed piece of work that toys with its viewers' emotions in much the same way as did many of Hitchcock's films. There's a Hitchcockian element throughout, actually, and I could imagine the Hitchster putting together a film very much like this were he still going. Most of the movie is steeped in paranoia, aided by interesting camera work and tight close-ups that capture Kurt Russell's totally convincing acting the part of a man whose life has suddenly fallen to pieces. The many faces of paranoia (justified paranoia, as we soon discover) in the film include the red-herring kind as embodied by the 'characters' on display in a desert diner. The air of intrigue and bad deeds, and conspiracy, is palpable in the two scenes set within the diner but, in the end, the diner's manager and patrons turn out to be benign. Well, maybe. I've spent a fair bit of time poking around the Mojave Desert (by the way, one apparent biogeographical error is showing a Joshua tree in what I believe is supposed to be Arizona) and can attest that you'll see the darndest things out there. That includes people. So the desert setting really struck a chord with me, too. Taken as a whole, the encounter with the diner's denizens and a run-in with the 'necks who soon turn out to be the bad guys may give the viewer a feeling of deja-vu for something along the lines of "Deliverance," but the menace here is far more prosaic and firmly focused on the bottom line.

Kurt Russell is perfectly cast as the Massachusetts yuppie traveling with his wife to a new life in San Diego. His aspiring yuppie credentials are established by the bright red SUV with leather interior, his powder blue polo shirt, and paper cups of designer coffee. This is a pretty insipid Kurt Russell character -- certainly a 'wimp' in comparison to the larger-than-life (and inevitably self-parodying) heroes that he played with such tongue-in-cheek bravado in films like the stellar "Big Trouble In Little China" and "Escape From New York." But that's where the key to the effectiveness of his character resides. He's so totally unprepared for brutality and action that most of us watching -- most of whom would also soundly qualify as 'wimps' when measured against the fictional prowess of movie action heroes -- can identify all too well with the situation that he suddenly finds himself in. He does the best that he can with what he has, and the fact is that he is not as adaptable and resourceful as McGyver and not even in the same league (and therefore more truthful) as any of the larger-than-life action heroes that've proliferated in such abundance since the original James Bond movies. It's also what makes so much more triumphant his victories over the bad guys, who have a definite advantage over him in terms of numbers, firepower, experience, and ability to deal violence. But old Kurt's Jeff character has outrage on his side, once he finds out what's happening. Before long his polo shirt is dirty and he has transformed himself into a makeshift action hero who feels about as real-life an example of that category as we're likely to see in a fictional Hollywood movie. And so it makes it all the sweeter when he kicks the main bad dude in the head, or gets one up on the mustachioed psychopath who thinks he has him totally cowed. It's hard not to feel redeemed when the tide begins to turn in the favor of Kurt Russell's 'everyman.' This kind of thing happens, too -- how would we fare under identical, wholly plausible, circumstances?

The supporting cast in this film is excellent. Kathleen Quinlan, the wife who's kidnapped, doesn't have all that much screen time but is effective in her interaction with Kurt Russell's Jeff Taylor. MC Gainey is wonderfully despicable in his role as desert redneck Earl, a man who possesses no obvious redeeming qualities. Jack Noseworthy is also chilling as the young bad guy, Billy. It's JT Walsh, though (the somewhat unhinged sergeant-major in "Good Morning, Vietnam"), who -- along with Kurt Russell -- really carries this film forward. He was an inspired casting decision, and his icy calm and absolute believability as he denied his obvious actions to both Jeff and to the local Sheriff are pure menace, totally understated in delivery but there in the movie's context. And when he gets nasty...well, then he's even nastier.

Beautiful setting, too. There's something about the American Southwest that speaks -- to me, anyway -- of freedom and possibility (try riding a motorcycle around it one day!) and those elements are subtly woven into this story with both positive and negative connotations.

Having spent more than a few years in Georgia, I've experienced first hand the unwelcome attentions of some of the more drugged-out or perhaps just plain psychotic drivers who push their trucks across the country and this movie also plays on the fear of anyone who's ever had a belligerent trucker threaten to squish 'em. Disclaimer: I'm not some rabidly bigoted anti-trucker type...my father drove trucks for a long time, my favorite performer -- Elvis -- started out as a truck driver, and I bought the whole trucker and "Convoy" craze in the '70s and, indeed, love the Peckinpah movie of that particular song. In real life, in the US, I've just had some unfortunate encounters with various defective members of that subculture.

The renegade truck driver thing's been done before -- Steven Spielberg's freaky and excellent "Duel" in 1971 being a notable film -- but this film definitely stands alone as a uniquely effective whodunnit/journey/revenge movie. Jonathon Mostow wrote and directed it and I give him full credit for creating a suspenseful masterpiece on only his third outing in those combined roles. Unfortunately, he then went on to make U-571 on the strength of this movie's success.

Achtung!...spoilers...

Technically, the piece is a bit of a marvel. The thing is packed with incredible shots and perspectives, some of them familiar from the work of others and some like nothing I've ever seen before. The shot with the nuns is just one that leaps to mind. In fact, some of the camera and editing techniques are the kind that you see in TV ads, when the producer is pulling out all the stops to catch your attention. It's definite fodder for those in film school, but it all kind of blurred together in my eyes after a while. Maybe it was too much. Maybe I just got tired after all of that stridency. The fact is that I've never had any use for MTV - the fact of its existence or the incredibly annoying stylistic hallmarks, like jerky camera movement and a succession of rapid cuts, that have always been integral to its broadcasts. And this is a film steeped in the MTV sensibility. Maybe post-MTV...whatever.

I began to suspect that this was not going to be a straight narrative when the cartoon Lola kicked in as she ran down the stairs and out of her home. Actually, the cartoon - changing each time, albeit quite subtly - is very fitting given that this whole movie has the look and feel of a video game. Methinks the producers and directors must've spent a lot of time playing such games, because it's apparent to me in everything from the cartoon sequence to her running around to pick up things that may be of use to the fact that she was given three ‘lives' during which to reach her goal. I don't know about you, but I'd love to have the ability to do three re-takes of various situations within my life. That was a nice little twist, and the film is executed skillfully enough that the three different versions of reality each seem fresh and new. Trying to keep it so, yet retain temporal continuity, must have been a challenge. Then again, perhaps it wasn't all that much different than compiling the various takes normally required for any film, the only difference being that each take featured different dialog and action. Regardless, the whole was flawlessly executed. I definitely get the feeling that the postproduction staff pored over every frame of film at length, completing the vision that must have been firmly established during principal photography. Interesting use of DV in some places, too, to contrast the mood with that filmed on film stock. The use of "What a Difference A Day Makes" in one of the alternate-reality sequences was particularly effective, too, and a nice break from the overbearing ‘techno' core.

In some ways this movie's all about action and less so involved with character. In particular, Lola's character is too busy running around to take the time to develop before us. Then again, Franka Potente was so good that we could sense much of her nature without anything overt being revealed, and the elements that comprise her life can be glimpsed in interactions with her father and others. And she can scream loudly, too.

In some ways this film irritated me. I'm not entirely sure why. Sure, those rapidly-cut explorations of the various futures of ancillary characters were interesting and kinda cool, but they also seemed to distract and detract from the film. To some extent I wasn't totally sympathetic with the characters, though Lola was basically appealing and I felt her anguish and rising panic. I was disappointed in the ending, actually - if I were Lola, I'd have decked that SOB Manni. On the bright side, Ms Potente must've really been in good shape by the time they finished filming this thing. I do really get into the big-effects-from-small-causes thing, too, because the truth of such things never fails to amaze me. And there's within a film a core conflict that's also explored in "Forrest Gump" - fate versus chance. Deterministic versus stochastic.

The bottom line for me is that it's a technically brilliant film, beautifully filmed, ingeniously plotted and twisted, and expertly acted...but it never really struck much of a chord with me where it really matters. I think it was great but it's never going to make it to my considerable list of favorite films, and certainly not among the ranks of films that I could watch over and over again. Maybe it was just too highly stylized. Maybe I'm destined to forever remain immune to the charms of ‘art films.' Oh well...I'll always have "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure."