Film Freak Central

What Lies Beneath (2000) [Widescreen] - DVD

***/**** Image A+ Sound A- Extras B
starring Harrison Ford, Michelle Pfeiffer, Diana Scarwid, Miranda Otto
screenplay by Clark Gregg
directed by Robert Zemeckis

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover What Lies Beneath isn't very nasty, but it's nice. The film takes Polanski-style horror, the kind where the environment itself seems to be falling apart and the individual has to navigate through miles of decay, and gives it a white-enamel Hollywood gloss that makes it fearfully cold and sinisterly antiseptic. It's a given from the get-go that this pure whiteness will, by film's end, be defiled by the blood of the innocent and the violence of the guilty. It's only a matter of time before it gets there, but the travel involved is bracing and loaded with suspense. While the end of What Lies Beneath wallows in some rather familiar horror-movie scare tactics, the rest of it is a nicely understated affair that cleverly plays on your nerves without relying too much on brutality or not enough on jolt.

Shadow of the Vampire (2000)

**/****
starring John Malkovich, Willem Dafoe, Catherine McCormack, Eddie Izzard
screenplay by Steven Katz
directed by E. Elias Merhige

by Bill Chambers They certainly dressed the part in those days. As the pre-eminent German filmmaker F.W. Murnau, John Malkovich declares: "We are scientists engaged in the creation of memory." On set, before the lamps are fired up and action is called, Murnau and his crew don tinted aviator goggles, looking as if they're about to launch an atomic bomb. This was standard practice during cinema's formative years, when it took an intense amount of light to satisfactorily expose an image. (It was not uncommon for those who didn't take precautions to go blind later in life.) But Malkovich/Murnau is not describing costumes; he's probably, in fact, speaking for the makers of the gothic comedy in which he appears as the catalyst, Shadow of the Vampire. Director E. Elias Merhige, working from a screenplay by Steven Katz, forges a new memoir of Nosferatu, Murnau's unauthorized, silent-film-era take on Bram Stoker's Dracula that was rumoured to star a real vampire.

Twin Dragons (1992) - DVD

**½/**** Image C Sound B+ Extras D
starring Jackie Chan, Maggie Cheung, Nina Li, Teddy Robin
screenplay by Barry Wong and Tsui Hark and Cheung Tung Jo and Wong Yik
directed by Tsui Hark

by Bill Chambers The day Steven Seagal inflicts two performances on us within the same film I'll hang up my film critic's apron and call it a life. Soap opera actors and fighting stars, you see, are not so much nonimmune as prone to landing the dual role of identical twins, and one muumuu-wearin' aikido "master" is already too much to bear. But a couple of Jackie Chans, that I can and did handle: Chan's 1992 action-comedy (emphasis on comedy) Twin Dragons isn't as seedy as the similarly plotted Van Damme vehicle Double Impact. With action auteurs Tsui Hark and, purportedly, Ringo Lam at its helm, though, and choreographer Yuen Wo Ping (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) behind the stuntwork, one has every reason to expect more combat and spectacle than Twin Dragons actually delivers.

When Harry Met Sally... (1989) [Special Edition] + Prelude to a Kiss (1992) - DVDs

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY...
***½/**** Image A Sound B Extras B+
starring Billy Crystal, Meg Ryan, Carrie Fisher, Bruno Kirby
screenplay by Nora Ephron
directed by Rob Reiner

PRELUDE TO A KISS
***/**** Image B Sound B
starring Alec Baldwin, Meg Ryan, Kathy Bates, Ned Beatty
screenplay by Craig Lucas, based on his play
directed by Norman Rene

by Bill Chambers Meg Ryan, the Princess of Perk, gets a makeshift career retrospective this month with the DVD releases of three high-profile gigs: When Harry Met Sally..., Prelude to a Kiss, and The Doors. I'm forsaking any further mention of The Doors to focus on the first two--delightful, whimsical films, unlike The Doors--and Ryan's romantic-comedy stranglehold. Call it the curse of the button nose: the actress, who is more talented than anyone, myself included, is willing to admit, seems out of her element by a country mile in pictures that don't require her to meet cute and kvetch over the subsequent courtship. And now that she's pushing 40, Ryan is becoming to chick flicks what Stallone and Schwarzenegger were to actioners after Clinton got elected: we're sick to death of seeing her in these Nora Ephron-type movies--yet, as Proof of Life, um, proved, we also don't want to see her in anything but.