Allô, je craque

Love it or hate it, it's impossible to remain neutral about this movie. It's kind of like watching a train wreck-tough to look at, but equally tough to tear yourself away from. One thing its detractors point out is that the story is just not movie material, and they do have a point. This piece would play far better as a stage play or on TV, but it is totally unworkable on the big screen. Whoopi is one of the greatest talents of our generation but even she can't make this premise work. Since it more or less all takes place on one set, it does become claustrophobic. Still it does have its moments- Vashti Blue is definitely one sick puppy but she's still fascinating. This part is an actor's dream. And in lesser hands than Whoopi's this could have been a total disaster. It would have been easy to turn the whole part into a grotesque caricature but Whoopi, pro that she is sidesteps that. She makes the character oddly appealing. A definite wack-job, yes but also a very touching one. You definitely feel what this woman is going through, and almost wish you could help. And that ending? Whoa. I definitely did NOT see it coming, and afterwards I felt like I'd swallowed an ice-cream cone whole. I won't give it away, but suffice to say it's VERY disturbing. Personal taste will have to dictate its level of success.

Well, this film finished off that sentence. This is the worst movie I have ever seen. Seriously and with no exaggeration. It is just awful. The entire movie is about Whoopi Goldberg's character talking on the phone. It's one of those movies where it starts out bad and you keep watching it saying "It's got to get better sometime, right?" Nope. Imagine talking to a monotone-voiced salesperson on the telephone for 90 minutes....that would be better than watching this film again.

If you want a better combination of Ms. Goldberg and a telephone, check out "Jumpin' Jack Flash," a very funny, if a little silly, comedy.

Or, if you want the second most awful movie ever, give "The Truth About Charlie" a look. The entire cast and crew should be forced to place formal apologies on Audrey Hepburn's and Cary Grant's graves.

Flicking the TV, I caught this film somewhere near its beginning. Having no idea of what it was or what it was supposed to be, I got strangely caught up in it. It's not great, but it is unusual... and that's saying something nowadays. I see here at the IMDb that most people don't like it. Hate it even. However, to get a better idea of how good or bad other people think it is, I suppose I would have to screen out those people who would hate ANY film that consisted of essentially only one person talking. It would probably be appreciated better by those people who like live theater; it has that quality to it. Still, it's not great and I don't think I would find it worth the money and effort to go out somewhere to see it. But on TV or as a rental it's worth seeing, interesting enough in its own odd way. I'm glad I caught it.

If you think an entire movie about a woman alone in her apartment cant be entertaining,funny,sad and fascinating this movie will prove you wrong. There is even a plot twist or two that will take you by suprise. This movie in itself proves what a stunning talent Whoopie is and shows she's probably even more talented as an actress than as a comedian.

Whoopi Goldberg's out of work actress spends the nights in her small apartment talking on the telephone to anyone who'll listen, her lifeline to the world and if not on the phone, entertaining the house guests; an owl and pet goldfish. That sums it up, really, that's it.

"THE TELEPHONE" directed by Rip Torn is executed like a stage-play, relying on Goldberg's presence; eccentric comic ability, interactions with her pets (foot bathing with a goldfish) and minor exchanges with a couple of actors (Severn Darden, Elliott Gould & John Heard). It's so random, almost improvised that you don't know where it's heading. You can say it's ambitious, even alienating. Once it hits the apartment, we can hear what's happening outside (traffic, voices, music), but that's where the camera stays, as we watch Goldberg ramble on until the cows come home. From trivial normality issues, venting or making low-brow jokes on the telephone, deciphering messages on the answering machine to stand-up comedy routines of impersonating nationalities, changing personas, watching footage of her standup comedy and even loudly acting out more than one person at the same time to annoy her complaining neighbors. Zany comic monologues after monologues after monologues, it's like watching someone bored out of their mind. Sex gags, toilet humour and stereotypical race jokes, but without an ounce of wit.

The one-idea concept while offbeat grows tiresome and at times crude. I didn't find it all that humorous, just bemused by it all. You don't learn that much about her character, head space wise, until she's around people in separate cameos of Darden, Gould (along with Amy Wright) and especially Heard. Her scenes at the end with Heard's telephone man is the poignant hook, as it can be both funny and sad, jarringly so, in what we learn of her obsession with the telephone.