Salomé (1923)

Director: Charles Bryant                              Writer: Natacha Rambova
Film Score: Ulderico Marcelli                       Cinematography: Charles Van Enger
Starring: Alla Nazimova, Mitchell Lewis, Rose Dione and Nigel DeBrulier

Called an “Historical Phantasy” in the opening titles, it certainly is that. Salomé makes no attempt to be historically accurate and the film suffers for it, relying too heavily on Oscar Wilde’s stage play it’s completely stage bound, the entirety of the action taking place on one set. More of a showcase for Natacha Rambova’s production design and costumes the picture is avant garde, similar to a minimalist Shakespearian production rather than a realistic telling of the biblical story. The sets are minimalist, painfully “artistic” and actually distracting from the performance, but it’s pretty clear that was the point. But it’s not just the sets, the acting is heavily stylized as well, and in the end it’s a pretty disappointing silent film.

The story is a familiar one as the scene opens on a banquet given by the King Herod in which Nazimova, as the title character, is ogled by everyone, especially the king. She leaves the banquet and goes to the jail cell of John the Baptist, who is being held prisoner and fascinates to her. She asks him to kiss her, but of course he refuses because he believes that her ways are wicked. It’s then that she takes the King up on his offer. Herod has told her that if she dances for him that she may have anything she wishes. She dances for him and then, in a petulant rage, asks for the head of John the Baptist on a silver tray so that she may kiss him after all.

In terms of the costumes Nazimova has her hair done up like she wearing a head full of electrified curlers, very Medusa like. She was actually 42 years old at the time of the production, bringing to mind the plot of Sunset Boulevard when Gloria Swanson wanted to play the character as well. Perhaps she was remembering Nazimova’s middle-age performance and thought she could do better. With her small, lithe body she does manage to pull it off as long as she’s not in close up where her age becomes obvious. Rose Dione as the queen looks as if she’s in a conditioner commercial her hair is so frizzed out. The rest of the costumes make the actors look like clowns. With the paucity of silent films still in existence, it’s a shame so many enticing films are gone while this one still exists. Salomé may be an attempt at art for art’s sake but, ultimately, it fails to entertain.

Smilla's Sense of Snow (1997)

Director: Billie August                                 Writer: Ann Biderman
Film Score: Hans Zimmer                           Cinematography: Jörgen Persson
Starring: Julia Ormond, Gabriel Byrne, Richard Harris and Robert Loggia

I remember when Peter Høeg’s novel first came out and was such a big hit. It was not surprise, then, that the book was turned into a film. At the time, however, I had sampled neither but knowing how popular the book had been I had high expectations. Unfortunately I was incredibly disappointed in Smilla's Sense of Snow. It wasn’t the kind of bad that made me want to turn it off instantly, it just fell so incredibly below my expectations that I couldn’t find anything positive to say about it. I have a strong feeling that the audience was split when it was first released and that those who had read the book enjoyed it because they had so much background from the novel to fill in the blanks. But for those, like myself, who hadn’t read the novel, it felt like watching a Cliff’s Notes version of a story where almost all of the character development had been left out.

The story opens with a meteor killing an Inuit fisherman in Greenland. Flash forward to present day Copenhagen and Smilla Jasperson, played by Julia Ormond. She comes home to discover her five-year-old neighbor has died falling off a roof. Neighbor Gabriel Byrne tries to offer her comfort and she is incredibly rude and crude in her dismissal of him. She thinks it’s murder so she goes to ask her father, Robert Loggia, for money, and is just as contemptuous toward him. She begins her investigation by talking to the coroner, Tom Wilkinson, and he gives her some information. She attempts to get a police case opened, but they think it’s an accident and haul her in to blackmail her into stopping by threatening her with solitary confinement, something her Greenlandic heritage would make tortuous for her.

I can see where Høeg was going in his characterization of Smilla, tough, no-nonsense, direct to the point of bluntness, and there is something admirable about it. The biggest problem is none of that is explained. There is absolutely no character development, save that of the police interrogator telling the audience her background when he reads her dossier to her. Gabriel Byrne’s character is just as maddening. A seemingly simpering milquetoast, he somehow manages to be every place she is and saves her in the nick of time on numerous occasions. He is even seen by her talking to the villain, Richard Harris, and yet he manages to talk his way out of it. There is no sense of urgency, though Ormond and Byrne both claim the opposite. And the deus ex machina is working overtime, allowing her access to vital information and helping her escape from the most impossible of predicaments in a way that would make even The Pelican Brief seem realistic.

In the end there just wasn’t enough for me to like. Neither the characters or their motivations are explained, there is a medical mystery with parasites that seems to be nothing more than a red herring, and the finale strains credulity. Smilla’s Sense of Snow seems to me one of those cases where a best-selling novel is either badly translated to film, or incapable of being done so well because of the time constraints. Either way, it was a big disappointment.

Picture Perfect (1997)

Director: Glenn Gordon Caron                       Writer: Arleen Sorkin & Paul Slansky
Film Score: Carter Burwell                            Cinematography: Paul Sarossy
Starring: Jennifer Aniston, Jay Mohr, Kevin Bacon and Olympia Dukakis

I had, of course, seen Jennifer Aniston on Friends, but had never ventured into her feature films. Apparently I haven’t missed much. And in this case, I wish I had. Picture Perfect is far from it: flawed in concept, flawed in execution it is really the definition of a bad film. As the credits flashed by I saw the name Sorkin, which has carried a lot of weight in Hollywood ever since Arron Sorkin’s incredible first screenplay, the smash hit A Few Good Men. But this film was scripted by Arleen Sorkin, a soap opera actress married to Christopher Lloyd the writer, and that makes sense. The screenplay is full of the unprincipled characters that populate daytime television, and not the sort of thing that most people want to see in a feature film, especially a romantic comedy.

Director Glenn Gordon Caron has a little bit more credibility. Having written for romcom TV shows like Remington Steele and Moonlighting he then moved into directing films, including Warren Beaty and Annete Benning’s remake of An Affair to Remember, which was probably why he was given the helm of this film. But his directing career never really recovered after this and he has only directed three TV episodes since while returning to writing. Add to that a score by Carter Burwell, whose music I have never really enjoyed, and the whole thing adds up to much less than the sum of its parts.

Aniston plays a minor advertising executive in a big, New York firm. She comes up with a great idea that lands the firm a big account, and yet she is not put on the team to work the account. Before she can quit in a fit of rage, her boss, Illeana Douglas, tells her to go to the wedding she is attending that weekend and they will iron things out on Monday. At the wedding Aniston meets Jay Mohr, a friend of the groom who is filming the occasion for the couple. At one point she is also caught with him by one of the numerous Polaroids at the reception. When she has her meeting with the boss, he claims the reason she’s not being promoted is that she’s single, she doesn’t need the job and therefore he can’t depend on her not to quit. So Douglas takes it upon herself to show the Polaroid to the boss claiming that Mohr is her fiancé, and suddenly she’s on the team. Another reason Aniston goes along with the deception is because the slimy guy she wants to be with at work, Kevin Bacon, only becomes attracted to her when he thinks she’s cheating on her fiancé.

So of course Aniston lies in order to bed Bacon, lies to her boss in order to move up, asks Mohr to pretend to be her fiancé and then lies to him. How he falls in love with her, when she makes it perfectly clear she doesn’t want him, makes no sense at all. When her boss finally learns of the deception, even he thinks it’s great. Olympia Dukakis is completely wasted as Aniston’s mother, acting more like the child in the relationship. Aniston is very unlikable, so seemingly brainless about her personal life it strains credulity to believe she is that successful professionally. Mohr is really the only likeable character in the film, but by allowing himself to be manipulated and treated so poorly, the audience can’t help but lose sympathy for him by the end. Picture Perfect is simply a bad romantic comedy and, as such, should be avoided.