Bristol

Seeing this movie on a whim, not knowing what it was about, only reading a review appearing in the "New York Sun," I really didn't know what to expect.

I saw the words "opera" and "art" and "new aesthete" in the review--words that usually accompany reviews about documentaries about art about life. But what got me to buy my ticket was the description that "music is color." And for David Hockney, it's just that. Driving across America--along the mountains of central California, along the edges of Utah deserts and the Grand Canyon--David plays opera music in his car, with his beloved dogs in the backseat. When he hears the music, instead of seeing scenes and images, he sees colors first.

I guess that's why we're given several transitory shots of long drives--a camera taking us around curves on a mountain road in the same sense that panoramic theatres at museums take us on a roller-coaster or around the stars.

This film has striking, beautiful imagery. It has a soundtrack of Wagner, Mozart, Straus. Although it's choppy and tells us little about Hockney other than how he builds sets and that, despite his lust for music he is going deaf, we nonetheless get a glimpse of the passion and unbelievably intricate work that goes into creating an opera.

See this; if only to remind your eyes how colors can make them feel.

The copy I rented had these words in its description: "Gus Van Sant's groundbreaking achievement..." I tend to be skeptical of such lofty claims in this day in age. It's true that the cinematography is pretty. It's true that the wilderness of Utah/Argentina are gorgeous...but must we defer to iconoclastic terminology. I find it hard to believe a film "groundbreaking" on the basis that it has shots lasting longer than 10 minutes. This, especially when there is little to no dialogue. These shots, although breathtaking, are substantial...but if you want to see a trained, beautiful sustaining shot, rent "The Magnificent Ambersons" or "Touch of Evil." Talk about a nail-biter in the how-long-can-this-shot-last-before-something-goes-wrong genre of film. The film was okay. But nothing "groundbreaking." You'd have better luck with "Winged Migration" if all you're looking for is pretty scenery and tracking shots. At least then you wouldn't have to hide your head under the pillow when Casey Affleck delivers his taudry explanation of the video game "Civilizations."

You have to wonder what was so interesting about this project that drew such big talents to it. It wasn't that the movie had no promise, but I think I can say that without the star power that it has, it wouldn't do very well. Kevin Spacey, Jeff Bridges and Alfre Woodard star in this film about a "space-man" and his last days on Earth. The majority of the film takes place in a psychiatric ward in Manhattan. Here, we meet a selection of quirky inmates and a few semi-defunct psychiatrists. The story unfolds as a new patient--Prot from K-Pax (played by Kevin Spacey)--tells his story to a psychiatrist (Jeff Bridges). I would describe more of the plot in detail, but there are several key-points that shouldn't be shared to those of you who haven't seen it yet. So, in respect for the future movie-goer, I'll jump right to a review. The movie was clever and sometimes cute. But, looking at the movie in its entirety, that's about as much as you get. There are no funny feelings in your tummy, or "damn!" moments. All you really get are a series of subdued, mediocre moments. Much of the drama is downplayed, and is only occasionally heightened by an upward swell of the music or a closeup of Spacey's contorting face. However, the movie has many fine qualities which must be explored. The technical aspects--ie, the editing and cinematography--are interesting, and sometimes brilliant. Also, the score marvelously enhances the cryptic yet spacy (no pun intended) atmosphere of the film. Add to that a new "written/produced/performed by" song from Sheryl Crow and you have a nice overall movie-going experience. I would, however, have to ask that you go into this movie with mid-grade expectations. It was enjoyable, but it lacked the "umph" that we've come to expect from talents like this. In addition to this, Alfre Woodard is in a completely thankless role as the head psychiatrist. Although she exudes the same sophisticatd pinache that she would normally, her part is underwritten and largely superlative. It sounds like I'm completely bashing the film, but believe me I'm not. It was enjoyable, and, it would be a great Friday-night-at-the-movies experience. But, if you're expecting something, I don't know, stunning, you may have to settle for high class mediocrity.