beptep

I certainly disagree with the viewer who called this tedium--after all when one can't tell Mahler's Songs of Ruckert from a symphony, he is no music lover! The recurring song ("Ich bin der welt abhanden gekommen") is very meaningful for it is associated with the teacher, a retired performer (brilliantly played by opera star Jose Van Dam). The words of the song translate as " I am lost to the world with which I used to waste so much time. It has heard nothing from me for so long it may well believe me dead." The song concludes with "I live alone in my heaven, in my love, and in my song." I played this film for a class of students whose knowledge of classical music was nil and they liked it. Of course the young leads were attractive and there was some sex in the film. I suggest you view it should you get the chance. It is one of my favorite films, and you really don't need to be knowledgeable in music to like it as long as you like beauty.

Back in the 1970s when Capitalism and Communism were fighting the cold war with undercover activities, a film such as this was able to play on our fears of the "good" guys as well as the "bad" guys. So, along with Burt Lancaster's aging C.I.A. agent, Cross, we can't know whom to trust. We like Burt, but we also like Alain Delon (Scorpio) the free agent assigned to assassinate him. We loathe John Colicos as the C.I.A. chief, yet he's supposedly working for our side. We like Paul Scofield's Zharkov, yet he's a commie. (Indeed, Scofield who is a master of cold characters has never been so charming.) The film offers great action scenes as well as unmitigated suspense. There is a superlative cast, and a lot of surprises. (Burt ain't named Cross for nothin'.) If you are a fan of thrillers, or even you aren't, this one's a must see!

As soon as Cynthia Nixon's character spies the naked Brat (Timothy Oliphant) sleeping in her gay friend's bed and her eyes betray her interest, we know that they will be together by the end of the film. That's the way movie cliches work. Missy (Nixon) a pop-fad artist, who has an amazing success showing home movies of her childhood with narration, is having an affair with a married man whose character is given in the credits as "Suit" (Jon Tenny). If there is humour in this film, I missed it. Obviously the final confrontation scene in the diner with a commenting chorus of patrons is meant to be a hoot. But it's too far-fetched and contrived even for this film. And one can't really have a "Romance" if one doesn't care about the characters involved in said romance. But I think there is a greater problem with this film. Let me explain. If films continued to depict Afro-Americans as toadying Uncle Toms, I am certain that here would be vehement cries of anger and protest. Yet this film dares to portray a gay man as the swishy, queenly creature that bigoted Americans think all gays are. Worse than that, it tells us that any bi-sexual man can be "cured" by the love of a good woman. Yet even accepting this preposterous and insulting thesis, it is inconceivable that Timothy Oliphant's character would have Andy Dick's homely, effeminate character as a regular sex-partner and/or fall in love with the irritating creature played by Cynthia Nixon. This film not only angered me. It was an insult to my intelligence.