Fall

I thought this movie would be interesting (base largely on the "loved it/hated it" reviews on this forum), but instead felt it was pretentiousness wrapped up in the Freudian wish fulfillment of its writer/director/lead actor, Eric Shaeffer.

This whole movie seems to be Shaeffer's tribute to his own ego- of course the world's most beautiful woman would find him to be fascinating! It's kind of like a Woody Allen film in that sense, but without any of the humor or talent.

Kudos to Shaeffer for making an ambitious independent film, but it just reminded me of an arrogant "artist" trying to show the world how awesome he thinks he is.

It's not that the idea of a cabbie and a supermodel falling in love is preposterous. (It happened in a George Michael video.)It's not that the supermodel can walk around with her secret lover and not be recognized or worry about the tabloids. It's mostly because the script serves the ego of the writer (who's also the actor and director)and misses the chance to be truthful. Apparently the cabbie's poetry, humor and powerful sexuality persuades the happily married supermodel to have an affair while her husband is away in Europe. It's hard to criticize the poetry since the poet recites it as rushed voiceover without once breaking from the inflection-free monotone. He does not read it as if he's the author; it's as if he has no relationship to the sentiment that the words are supposed to express. Oh and just so we know..the supermodel is really brainy! This is so we can see that the cabbie is attracted to more than just her supermodel looks. Cause he's deeper than that. And he's really good in bed..although we never see him do much other than enjoy either giving or getting forceful penetration. He teaches the supermodel that good sex is quick sex without foreplay. His two best friends are women...so we know he really likes women, right? With so very little happening in their lives, they starve for details of his exciting sex life. If only they could get some of that 45 seconds or so of kiss-and-caress-free instant copulation. The supermodel insists at the onset of their affair that she will not ever leave her husband and we understand why when we see the couple reunited in Spain. I am so kidding. The husband and wife seem to barely tolerate each other, but we do see that she gets a lot of press in Spain about the extravagant amount of roses our cabbie sends her. Thank God she's having her extramarital affair in media-free New York City! The lovers have their first fight. It turns out she can't really handle the fact that he's just a cabbie with pedestrian tastes...she wants to go to the trendy places with the trendy people and enjoy her fame and wealth without feeling shallow. He just doesn't understand her lifestyle..! But then we discover that he's not really a cabdriver...he's a successful novelist..he was on the NY Times Bestseller List! He wasn't just critically acclaimed, he was popular as well. But the life was shallow and false, so he won't publish again until he's really ready to. Ah, truly a writer's experience. They only write when the conditions are perfect since the inevitable literary splash they'll make must be taken into account and prepared for. That's the toughest part of being a writer. Dealing with the fame. Despite all of this, I think what bothers me the most is that the cabbie never gets pissed, never reacts badly to the fact that the model is married or having to go home after having sex. He stays completely giving, romantic and understanding through everything. He's amenable to everything, even staying away from our model after flying all night to get to Paris. He's so unselfish. It matters more to him that she does what she wants to do, even if that means turning her back on him to stay with her soulless husband. What a bunch of self-aggrandizing hooey. The music was interesting...but the screaming bit was pretty alarming and over-the-top for the story content. I guess we're all hoping that the failed relationship means that our noble cabbie will get cracking on his second novel...which will surely eclipse the success of his first one...and probably cure cancer as well.

I have watched this film several times so I thought I would stop by and see what everyone had to say. To be honest I am not surprised to see just how varied the opinions of this movie are. I guess it is just one of those rare films that ride the fine line of evoking some substantial 'truth' about the human condition - or - falling off into insubstantial irrelevancy. It is true that the film depicts events that are 'highly' unlikely, but I feel if you cannot get past this very common convention in film (Can Harry accidently run into Sally a few more times?) then you are unfortunately missing a beautifully crafted depiction of these two character's "fall". As I said it is a fine line, and I can see that it would be easy to discount this film as garbage, but I for one did not. I just gave myself to it and feel I came out richer for doing so. I believe that the director/lead actor/writer Eric Schaeffer, delivers a very personal journey down the road of real love - regardless of the unlikely circumstances. A journey that made me smile, laugh, hate, think, and cry. I for one loved it. If you haven't seen it, give it a shot.

PS: I don't think this would be a good 'date' film as some have suggested. If you do give into this film, it may just take you down the road of all your previous relationships - some of which may still haunt you today. Be careful.

"Fall" tells the tale of a brief love affair between star-crossed lovers and unlikely bedfellows...a NYC cabbie (Schaeffer) and a super model (de Cadenet). Protagonist, writer, producer, and director, Schaeffer goes where few romantic writers have dared to go before as he spins his tale of impossible love from the initial casual attraction to the intensely sexual backlash of two lonely people to the reluctant search for a deeper and more profound meaning to the ultimate and necessary death of the relationship. "Fall" is a wonderful mix of reality and poetry which will maddeningly captivate realists and aggravate hopeless romantics. Kudos to Schaeffer for having the cajones to put this film out there for those few of us who delight in the real but bittersweetness of life.

Footnote: Boxing fans will get some rare glimpses of Max Kellerman doing his public access show in New York (circa 1996) before joining ESPN.

I absolutely hated this movie. The writer/director/leading `man' was the most unlikable character ever portrayed. To me it was quite obvious he was at least bisexual, and at times I was certain the `world's most beautiful woman' was a transvestite. Did he really let her penetrate him? And this is supposed to be sexy?

I only watched this movie because it was so horrible I couldn't look away. I actually got more laughs out of this than anything.

Who the hell was in charge of continuity? The scene in the beginning, when her hair is all frizzy in the cab, then she hands him a $20 for a $2.50 fare and gets out. He gets out and says `Yo!' (please!) Here hair is now OBVIOUSLY brushed straight..I was hooked. I had to watch this train wreck. `I don't want your twenty.I want to buy your dinner.'

I don't believe the premise that there is a white, English speaking cabbie in New York, anymore than I believe any of the dialogue in this fecal epic.

What the hell was that screaming at the end?

The ending gave me some hope because for a second I was certain he was going to be run over by a speeding car as he stood in the street. Of course he wasn't.

Note to female readers: No man hugs a pillow and cries over his lost love. This guy is a little bitch.

Note to the director/writer/actor: Your character is not cool, or even remotely believable, and your poetry is laughable.

What the hell was her accent? Does anyone make a hat big enough to fit her enormous head?

What about his `girlfriends'... Cardboard cutouts would have been more believable.

This movie sucked harder than my brand new Hoover. It is too late for me, but please spare yourself the two hours I spent on this waste of time. Call your mom instead.or check your girlfriend's dresser drawer for double-headed dildos.