I’m not a big fan of movies in which a bunch of losers do what they do best. “American Heart” (1992) is one of those movies. It’s a cross between “My Own Private Idaho” and “Of Mice and Men,” which makes it depressing squared. It mainly seems to be a vehicle for Jeff Bridges to show off his biceps, as well as his ability to grow an amazing mustache and ponytail while chain-smoking all the cigarettes in the greater Seattle area. Edward Furlong plays the kid, because he always does. The ending is ridiculous, as is Tom Waits’ musical accompaniment.
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The “Scary Movie” franchise does such an effective job of mocking horror movie conventions, it’s hard to watch “The Dead Don’t Die” (2019) and feel like you haven’t heard these jokes before, because in some cases, you have. Adam Driver and Bill Murray are small-town cops confronted with a slow-motion zombie apocalypse. That’s because zombies walk slow (which is the kind of gag you might see in this movie) but also because the story kind of drags, like a corpse’s partially severed limb. It’s very close to being hilarious (especially Tilda Swinton’s scenes), but ends up too clever by half.
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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