View from the Back Row
Vanilla Sky: Not Exactly Tasty
But, his blonde, sex-toy girlfriend, Julie (Cameron Diaz), needs more than just a casual slide across the satins and a mouth full of body fluids. She needs stability; she needs commitment; she needs Prozac(r) and lots of it. (Or does she?)
Enter Sofia (Penelope Cruz), the dark, alluring girlfriend of David's best friend, Brian (Jason Lee). When Sofia flutters her eyelashes, David's interest in Julie disappears faster than drying perspiration on a bed sheet. He dumps Julie and waggles his bait in Sofia's direction. (Or does he?)
Julie becomes psychotic. Hoping to end David's sextra-curricular activities, Julie begins the stalking process. She drives David down the street for a little psychotic banter, then she drives David off a bridge. The resulting crash leaves Julie dead, David in a facial prosthesis (i.e., a mask), and the authorities accusing David of murdering someone. (Or does it?)
At this point the story really goes south. Random flashbacks hint at corporate conspiracy. The producers expect us to follow an incomprehensible trail of clues that would make Sherlock Holmes dive for the snort tin. Then, they throw in Kurt Russell as a compassionate father-figure analyst. (Or could he be Snake Plissken in disguise?)
If this story doesn't sound complex enough, just wait. The fragmented and confusing plot twists and turns more than Chubby Checkers at a sock hop. It also spotlights Tom Cruise's smiling face. Then, at the end, it adds insult to injury by getting really stupid. (Or does it?)
If you want to see Tom Cruise, you better hurry to the theater, because this one won't be there long. Or you can wait a couple of weeks and rent it at the video store. I give it a "D-."
Dixie says: I love Tom Cruise. I thought I could look at him for hours. Wrong. It takes more than a pretty face to keep a movie from turning into a nightmare. I've had more fun at a two-hour root canal, and my dentist doesn't look half as cute as Tom. The characters bragged about making love four times in one night. Had they shown the four sex romps, I might not have fallen asleep twice. They also used some unnecessary shock dialog. I didn't need to know what Julie swallowed; I needed to know what the hell was happening.
Leaving the theater after the movie finally ended, I noticed two ladies shaking their heads. They started talking to me about this bad movie. I said that it made me want to find Tom Cruise and slap him. They laughed, but I was serious. I didn't think anything could be as bad as Eyes Wide Shut. Wrong. I give it an "N" for Nightmare.
Don & Dixie Mitchell
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