Bovie Movie

A frenetic, bloody look at mass murder and the mass media, director Oliver Stone’s extremely controversial film divided critics and audiences with its mixture of over-the-top violence and bitter cultural satire. At the center of the film, written by Stone and Quentin Tarantino, among others, are Mickey (Woody Harrelson) and Mallory (Juliette Lewis), a young couple united by their desire for each other and their common love of violence. Together, they embark on a record-breaking, exceptionally gory killing spree that captivates the sensation-hungry tabloid media. Their fame is ensured by one newsman, Wayne Gale (Robert Downey, Jr.), who reports on Mickey and Mallory for his show, American Maniacs. Even the duo’s eventual capture by the police only increases their notoriety, as Gale develops a plan for a Super Bowl Sunday interview that Mickey and Mallory twist to their own advantage. Visually overwhelming, Robert Richardson’s hyperkinetic cinematography switches between documentary-style black-and-white, surveillance video, garishly colored psychedelia, and even animation in a rapid-fire fashion that mirrors the psychosis of the killers and the media-saturated culture that makes them popular heroes. The film’s extreme violence — numerous edits were required to win an R rating — became a subject of debate, as some critics asserted that the film irresponsibly glorified its murderers and blamed the filmmakers for potentially inciting copy-cat killings. Defenders argued that the film attacks media obsession with violence and satirizes a sensationalistic, celebrity-obsessed society. Certain to provoke discussion, Natural Born Killers will thoroughly alienate many viewers with its shock tactics, chaotic approach, and disturbing subject matter, while others will value the combination of technical virtuosity and dark commentary on the modern American landscape.

Were it not for its profanity-laden opening scenes, John Hughes’ Planes, Trains and Automobiles might have been suitable family entertainment: certainly it’s heaps less violent and mean-spirited than Hughes’ Home Alone. En route to Chicago to spend Thanksgiving with his family, easily annoyed businessman Neal Page (Steve Martin) finds his first-class plane ticket has been demoted to coach, and he must share his flight with obnoxious salesman Del Griffith (John Candy). A sudden snowstorm in Chicago forces the plane to land in Wichita. Unable to find a room in any of the four-star hotels, Neal is compelled to accept Del’s invitation to share his accommodations in a cheapo-sleazo motel. Driven to distraction by Del’s annoying personal habits, the ungrateful Neal lets forth with a stream of verbal abuse. That’s when Del delivers the anticipated (but always welcome) “I don’t judge, why should you?”-type speech so common to John Hughes flicks. The shamefaced Neal tries to make up to Del, but there’s a bumpy time ahead as the mismatched pair make their way back to Chicago, first in a balky train, then by way of a refrigerator truck. We know from the outset that the oil-and-water Neal and Del will be bosom companions by the end of Planes, Trains and Automobiles, but it’s still a fun ride. The best bit: a half-asleep Del thinking that he’s got his hand tucked between two pillows — until his bedmate, Neal, bellows “Those aren’t pillows!”

Disney’s The Little Mermaid was the first in a series of blockbusters that restored the venerable firm’s reputation as the world’s premiere animated-feature factory. The title character is a precocious teenager named Ariel, the daughter of Triton, king of the Sea. Against her dad’s wishes, Ariel journeys beyond her own world to the surface, where she falls in love with Prince Eric, a handsome human. Foolishly, the little mermaid enters into an agreement with evil sea witch Ursula in order to become human herself. The wistfully melancholy ending of the original Hans Christian Andersen story is dispensed with in favor of a joyously happy ending-but not before a spectacular climactic confrontation between Ursula and Triton. The obligatory Disney comic relief is handled by such freshly minted characters as Sebastian the Crab, who, courtesy of voiceover artist Samuel E. Wright, sings the film’s Oscar-winning “Under the Sea.” Other voices are provided by Broadway star Jodi Benson (as Ariel) and such Hollywood reliables as Buddy Hackett, Pat Carroll, Kenneth Mars, and Rene Auberjonois. The enormous box-office take of The Little Mermaid made possible such future Disney cartoon ventures as Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Pocahontas, and The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

John Hughes dishes out the sentiment by the ladle-full in Curly Sue. The film stars James Belushi as Bill Dancer, a down-on-his-luck drifter who lives by his wits on the highways and byways of the United States, stealing free meals, slipping into movie theaters, and sleeping in welfare hotels. Bill is also the guardian of cute pint-size moppet Curly Sue (Allison Porter), a cutey pie cross between Little Orphan Annie and Tatum O’Neal’s Addie Loggins character from Paper Moon. Bill and Curly Sue are a perfect con team, and they practice their scams when they need money for food. Pulling a knockdown car-accident scam, Bill makes hard-bitten Chicago lawyer Grey Ellison (Kelly Lynch) think that she slammed into him with her car. She buys dinner for the two mountebanks before being taken away by her snotty boyfriend Walter McCormick (John Getz). But the next morning, Grey actually does hit Bill with her car, and she takes the two back home with her. At first, Grey can’t seem to get Curly Sue out of her mind, but then she finds herself falling in love with Bill. They begin to form a perfect family until Walter puts in a call to the Department of Children and Family Services.