“The Butcher’s Wife” is a 1991 movie starring several women I fancy (Demi Moore, Mary Steenburgen, Frances McDormand, Margaret Colin), and Jeff Daniels, who a lot of women favor, at least when they’re not getting him confused with Bill Pullman. George Dzundza is in it, too (I just wanted to say Dzundza). It’s a chick flick (crossed signals, unrequited love, happy ending, blah blah blah). A barefoot Demi Moore is supposed to be a clairvoyant from North Carolina, spouting cornpone wisdom in a terrible accent. It mostly takes place in New York (the movie, not her accent). Dzundza, Dzundza, Dzundza.
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As I watched “Isle of Dogs” (2018), I was reminded how much I used to enjoy “Samurai Jack.” There’s a zen-like inner calmness at the center of these two pieces of Japanese-flavored animation that I savored. This film is loaded with metaphors for all kinds of stuff I didn’t have time to try to discern (it’s a dark story about the potential for a doggie holocaust, and there’s heavy – perhaps too heavy – political symbolism). I was too busy either trying to make out the tiny writing on my normal-human-sized television or I was simply enjoying the calm, deliberate, confident storytelling.
It’s one of those movies with a bunch of seemingly unrelated story lines that somehow are supposed to come together. It’s one of those movies with an eclectic ensemble of veteran stars (Jack Lemmon!), up-and-comers (Julianne Moore!) and WTFs (Huey Lewis?). It’s one of those Robert Altman movies. So you know all the critics and artsy-fartsy types loved “Short Cuts” (1993). I couldn’t wait for it to be over. Twenty-two major characters, and not a one of them is likeable. They’re all somewhere on a continuum from pathetic to despicable. I get it, Robert. Life in L.A. sucks. Your point?
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