There goes €1 that I’ll never see again.
If you’ve ever seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit, don’t bother with this one. And if you’ve never seen Roger Rabbit, don’t bother with Cool World either: watch Roger Rabbit.
So what’s wrong with this film? Just about everything.
Cool World concludes the cycle Ralph Bakshi: Urban Noir, and about time too.
Like Heaven Can Wait, this comedy is a remake. Which proves the point that a remake also could be fun — especially when (re)made by the great Nichols and May. Unencumbered by comparisons with the French movie, I enjoyed The Birdcage on its own right. Starring Robin Williams, Nathan Lane, Gene Hackman, Dianne Wiest, Christine Baranski and Hank Azaria.
Finally, a Bakshi film that I actually liked. A soundtrack for the (best part of) 20th century, something for kids of today to watch. Don’t let the title put you off (yes, it makes me cringe too): “pop” here is short for popular music, moving from ragtime to punk with jazz, swing, soul and rock in between. Not pop music. I still don’t get why American artists insist on naming their creations “American something”.
It’s also pretty uneven. The story kind of disintegrates towards the end — as the quality of music goes down. Yet there are some truly beautiful or otherwise funny bits that made my night.
Imagine the frustration of Warren “I’m cute and I know it” Beatty who co-directed, co-wrote, produced and starred in this 1978 comedy. He was nominated for Oscars in all four corresponding categories and won none. However, the reason I watched Heaven Can Wait in the first place was not Beatty but his co-writer, to whom the new cycle Conociendo a Elaine May by Vértigo is dedicated. Alas, I missed the first film of the cycle.
I enjoyed the movie. Neither Beatty nor Julie Christie impressed me much, but the cast of supporting actors did. My favourite was Dyan Cannon as Julia, the murderous alcoholic wife of Mr. Farnsworth. Also, I’ve been a fan of Dave Grusin for the last forty years or so and his score for the film didn’t disappoint.
From the director of Le clitoris comes this charming “animated documentary series based on Caresses Magiques, a book series written and edited by Sarah Gagnon-Piché and Sara Hébert” (I took this quote from the end credits). The “animated documentary series” is really a mini-series, of five animated shorts no longer than 4 minutes each; and the “book series” was just two volumes, now out of print. The first of the films is narrated in English by Ms Malépart-Traversy herself; the other four feauture the voices of, I suppose, some of the book’s heroines (in French, with English subtitles). You can watch all the films on the National Film Board of Canada web site or on Vimeo (scroll down to the embedded videos).
From the author of Croqueta y Empanadilla comes something completely, utterly different. Also, profoundly beautiful. And as much unsettling. You’ll feel unsettled if you couldn’t figure out what is reality (F, “forest”) and what is dream (P, “Planeta”), especially when in P you also dream about F. As Valentina does. On top of that, in P all human communication, apart from that with live-in partner, happens in virtual reality (V).
Ralph Bakshi’s third feature looks like a combination of Fritz the Cat (animals) and Heavy Traffic (humans and live action). Finally, some sort of coherent plot, which makes the film actually watchable without constant thinking of when it’s gonna end. There is marginally less violence than in his two previous efforts and practically no sex — I wish this was the other way round. For me, Coonskin was the least offensive one of the three Bakshi’s films I’ve seen so far. Or maybe I’m developing tolerance to this stuff.
