redmund

Being fully aware of this film's rather large cult following, I must

nevertheless offer myself as the voice of dissention. I think the

supremely gifted Harold Pinter wrote a diabolically clever

screenplay adaptation, which Paul Schrader directed as if it were

one of his own scripts. The result, to my thinking, is one of the

great missed cinematic opportunities of the1990s. Schrader

(whose intelligent though straight-ahead linear approach has all

the rhythmic subtlety of of a Led Zeppelin concert) could have

easily done a bit of research on Pinter's writing style (which is, by

comparison, like a string quartet by Phillip Glass) but most clearly

couldn't be bothered, very much to the film's ultimate detriment.

Still, Christopher Walken and Helen Mirren are both loads of fun,

as always.

Assuming that you're going to see "Jurassic Park III" for the dinosaurs

and not for thematically complex, character-driven drama, you'll have a

blast. I've read through some of the complaints listed in these reviews

(regarding inferior CGI effects and the like) and I just don't get it.

Who CARES what plot devices sets these characters down on the forbidden

island? The only thing that matters here is the action itself, and that

is first-rate. The film moves quickly, has a few decent jokes, and

doesn't take itself too seriously. In other words, a great B-picture.

My take on "Jurassic Park III": better than "The Lost World," not as

good as the original. That was all I was hoping for and that's what I

got. F

There can be no question of PINK FLAMINGOS' importance as an alternative

pop-cultural artifact. This is not to say, however, that the film is

particularly good. There is a technical shoddiness to the entire

enterprise - long, under-rehearsed and unedited takes with endless

panning and zooming - that undercuts whatever its creator, John Waters,

may have wanted to say about the corrupt society he so clearly loves to

hate (just compare the quality of Waters' own footage with the

documentary footage shot by Steve Yeager in his award-winning DIVINE

TRASH, of John Waters actually at work filming PINK FLAMINGOS for all

the evidence you need of the director's lack of cinematographic skill).

It's not that Waters lacks the ability to articulate his point of view;

it's just that his directorial abilities tend to fall short of his

thematic ambitions. You see, I am of the opinion that Waters' greatest

gift is in the writing department. Directorially, his films show little

in the way of rhythm and focus. That is, perhaps, with perhaps one clear

exception.

DESPERATE LIVING is a genuinely Felliniesque epic with, at least in my

view, far more scope than any of Waters' other work. In it, he creates

an entire parallel universe, Morteville, where compulsory misery is

enforced by legal decree. The principle cast is enormous and there just

seems to be so much more going on than in anything else Waters has ever

done. Mink Stole proves herself to be an actor of genuinely demonic

intensity, while the physical production itself is clearly being guided

by a well-developed (if loopy) intelligence.

In general, I prefer Waters' older films such as MULTIPLE MANIACS and

FEMALE TROUBLE to such later efforts as CRY BABY and PECKER (a film

which I genuinely detest) - there's an immediacy and honesty to those

grainy old 16mm films, a palpable kinetic joy not unlike the

exhilaration one experiences while executing the perfect practical joke.

Interestingly, DESPEPRATE LIVING is notable for the absence of Divine,

Waters' principle star, who was unavailable at the time of production.

Without her, the film seems somehow more balanced, less cluttered and

even more culturally subversive than its early-to-mid seventies

counterparts.

Still, PINK FLAMINGOS is the Waters film against which all others

ultimately will be judged. It is one of the most extreme works ever

committed to celluloid and a genuine cinematic Rorschach test. The film

possesses many virtues: a lively cast, a brilliantly ludicrous (and

funny) script and an almost pathological detrmination - or need - to

offend.

Perhaps it's beside the point to complain too much about Waters'

directorial abilities when it's so clear that his satirical skills are

in such great form - the guy is a genuine cultural anthropologist and

almost as funny as Moliere.

I just wish he would write more books.

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