House of Gucci: A Review

 

HOUSE OF GUCCI

High fashion meets low crime in House of Gucci, a film that is sometimes outrageous, sometimes sad but never dull. 

Patrizia Reggiani (Lady Gaga) works for her father's trucking company when she meets Maurizio Gucci (Adam Driver). She is vaguely aware that he is of the Gucci fashion line family, but there is nothing flashy or even stylish about him. Shy and more bookish, Maurizio is studying law, not fashion.

Maurizio's father Rodolfo (Jeremy Irons) sees Patrizia as nothing more than a golddigger, a strange idea given Rodolfo had himself briefly turned away from the fashion house to pursue acting. Over his objections Maurizio and Patrizia marry, and Rodolfo cuts his heir off. Neither of them cares, for Maurizio and Patrizia are deeply in love.

More welcoming is Maurizio's Uncle Aldo (Al Pacino), who sees in Maurizio all the virtues of a son and heir he wishes he had. Aldo's son Paolo (Jared Leto) is a sorry disappointment: boorish, stupid, fat, balding and with grandiose ideas about himself and his own artistic/business prowess. Aldo would love to see the House of Gucci go to Maurizio rather than Paolo, but his nephew has little interest.

Not until Patrizia that is. Over time their family overtures turn into a full-on war between the Maurizio and Paolo sides for control of Gucci. The family begins a cascading series of events involving deceptions, backdoor deals, psychics and extramarital affairs. With Patrizia's marriage and control over the House of Gucci about to come to an end, she enacts a deadly scheme to save herself; however, her plans ultimately lead to seeing all the Guccis lose their fashion house.

I think it is fair to say that sometimes House of Gucci can't decide if it is a serious drama or a comedy. It depends on who is doing the acting. Driver is taking all this seriously, and he does an excellent job with Maurizio. We see the slow evolution from genuinely kind, nice person to a more ruthless figure. Even if his ruthlessness is based on a sense of love for family, he has become what he didn't want to: a company man. 

Gaga and Pacino straddle the fence between being serious and being camp. The former leans more into the Driver version, where her genuine love for Maurizio shifts into a determination to rule the House of Gucci. This drive is more pronounced every time she is told she is not a "real Gucci", a major source of irritation. Gaga shows that she is more than capable of playing a version of herself (which is what I think she did in A Star is Born). Her accent at times veers towards camp, and there is again at times an almost frenzied manner to her performance. However, it is still on the whole a sharp one.

Pacino leans more into the camp nature of House of Gucci, but Aldo is a bit more theatrical on the whole so I figure that can be forgiven. 

And then there is Jared Leto. Underneath his padding and puddy nose he latches onto the over-the-top Italian accent like a drowning man. Overly theatrical and cartoonish, Leto does not restrain himself from the idea House of Gucci is really House of Paolo. It isn't just his bad Family Guy on crack performance that makes Paolo an idiotic comic character too outlandish to think was a real person. It is the lines he had to deliver.

When Patrizia and Maurizio are conning Paolo to help them against Aldo, Paolo muses "I can finally soar...like a pigeon". It shows Paolo to be an absolute moron, and a quip about how he's worried that once in prison Aldo will be "dropping the soap" is astonishing. The audience loved it, but I thought it was such a bizarre thing for Paolo to focus on. 

The comedy vs. drama House of Gucci goes through also comes through Salma Hayek's brief role as Pina, a Miss Cleo-type psychic who advises Patrizia and ends up as Patrizia's contact to hitmen. It may be real, but it comes across as farce.

Director Ridley Scott blended the feel and setting of the late 1970s and early 80s well. The film does feel longer than its two-and-a-half hour running time. I think it would have done better to take things more seriously and push down the more outlandish elements. However, House of Gucci has some good performances and is entertaining, if a bit too flashy. 

DECISION: B-

Mass (2021): A Review (Review #1551)

 

MASS

Mass answers the question "Can a film be simultaneously exceptionally well-acted and shockingly stilted?" in the affirmative. While having four excellent performances Mass as a whole does feel more like a filmed stage play, an irony given it is an original screenplay.

Taking place at an Episcopalian church meeting room we, after a brief setup, meet our primary pair of couples. There is Gail and Jay (Martha Plimpton and Jason Isaacs), the younger of the two couples. Shortly after, Richard and Linda (Reed Birney and Ann Dowd) show up. Despite their fumbling around the subject, it takes over half an hour to find out what the meeting is all about.

Richard and Linda's son Hayden killed Gail and Jay's son Evan in a Sandy Hook-type mass shooting before Hayden killed himself. 

As these two couples search out for answers and understanding, Gail and Jay appear to forget that they are there to "express but not interrogate". Calmly, sometimes despairingly, the four go through an emotional rollercoaster where they ultimately can forgive if not forget the terrible circumstance that unites them.

Mass is expertly acted by all four performers. It is a credit to writer/director Fran Kranz that he drew exceptional performances from the main cast (there are three other characters who come in at the beginning and end). The film is so well-acted that it is difficult to find a "standout". If forced to rank them however, I would put them in order thus: Dowd, Plimpton, Isaacs, Birney.

That isn't to say that Birney was the weakest, merely that his role as Hayden's father seems the smallest. Unlike the others, he also does not appear to have an Oscar-ready clip to select. Mass is dominated by the women: Plimpton as the more openly grieving mother, Dowd as the more restrained yet equally grieving, even frightened mother. The women, both who have lost children in an inexplicable tragedy, are more open emotionally.

Isaacs' Jay has a moment where he releases his rage, a frightening and powerful moment. "Where's your regret? That's what we want to see", he begins when Richard and Linda continue attempting to explain their viewpoint. Jay is in turns vindictive, lecturing, hostile and torn, and it is a credit to his skills that Jay does not come across as a monster at times for his almost vengeful manner.

"What should we say?", Linda replies, and Dowd loads so much into that. Her statement is defensive, confused and genuine, a woman caught in her own private grief who now faces the wrath of a man who perhaps places too much on her and her estranged husband.

In terms of acting, Mass is excellent. In terms of story, it suffers from its penchant for staging. It comes across as a filmed play more than a feature film. To a point I can understand that we are limited to these four people. However, the minor characters at the Episcopalian church seem to be almost forced comic relief than real people.

As a side note, I personally think of Episcopalians as churchgoing atheists, but that is neither here nor there.

Perhaps Kranz felt the need to try and "balance" the gun debate by trying to make Richard the "mental health, not guns, is the issue" voice, but I don't think it worked. Perhaps focusing more on the shared grief these two sets of parents feel than on the dangers of weapons would have done Mass better. 

Also, because Mass looks like a filmed play (or at least something that can easily translate to the stage) when we are reminded that it is a film, Mass falters. The cutaway to a field with a ribbon after Jay's dramatic monologue seems too artsy. The fade to black after Gail's spent emotionally feels like we've moved on to Act II.

Worse, after what appears to be the catharsis the parents need comes, we get about another fifteen to twenty minutes that feel attached. Granted, this gives Dowd a chance for another powerful monologue, but I still think Mass might have done better with the act of forgiveness. 

Mass is again exceptionally well-acted, but it can be at times also overwrought and stilted. This is an interesting story that with some work could have reached the heights it aimed for. It might also still be reworked as a stage play, where it can get new life. 

DECISION: C+

Trog: A Review (Review #1550)

 

TROG

Christina Crawford once said in an interview that if Trog wasn't her mother Joan Crawford's last film, that it should have been. In many ways bonkers, bizarre and comical, Trog may have been a poor way for Crawford to end her impressive career. However, it says a great deal about Joan Crawford: actress that she gave it her all to make Trog as rational as it could be.

While exploring British caves a group of young men come upon a kind of monster, one that killed one of their own and left another injured. Dr. Brockton (Crawford) believes the creature is not a monster but the literal "missing link" between ape and man. She is not only convinced that it is a troglodyte (hence the name "Trog") but can be brought into civilization. With enough patience, "Trog" can learn to speak and tell of his world.

Opposing her is Sam Murdock (Michael Gough), a local businessman convinced Trog is a real monster who is bad for business. He also is contemptuous of Dr. Brockton on many levels: as a scientist, as a female, as a female scientist and possibly as an American. Determined to bring about both Brockton and Trog's downfall, he secretly breaks into the Brockton Institute. Unfortunately, Trog is still violent enough to attack him (though to be fair I would argue it was self-defense). Regardless, Trog escapes and goes on a murderous rampage, culminating in his abducting a little girl. Will Dr. Brockton be able to save both the girl and Trog, or will her discovery end in death?

Not since Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla has there been such a strange and perhaps sad blending of a great talent with an oddball premise. As a film, Trog is an amusing failure, its blending of science fiction and sincerity almost endearing in its sincerity. Yet it is that same almost innocent delusion that makes Trog entertaining.

One cannot suppress giggles when one see Mildred Pierce both threaten and plead with a human gorilla to give her "the human child". It just seems so wild, so flat-out weird that it beggars belief. 

However, Trog shows that no matter how almost crazed the plot, Joan Crawford was a true professional. Not once did she ever try to make her performance match the camp nature of Trog. To her immense credit, Crawford played everything straight, as if finding this missing link and teaching it to fetch was the most rational thing in the world. Her performance grounds the lunacy of Trog in a vague reality that makes the craziness of it all if not believable at least not completely insane.

Crawford was taking all this very seriously, and it is Crawford alone that makes Trog not slip into complete farce. I say "complete farce" because Trog is a B-Picture, the type the TNT Network's 100% Weird would have a field day with. Almost everything save Crawford is so bonkers and comical that Trog cannot be believed even when seen.

It is clear that Trog is a man in a very poor-fitting ape costume, forever looking like it had been hurriedly thrown on him. It is clear that various subplots such as a potential romance between Dr. Brockton's daughter Anne (Kim Braden) and Brockton's assistant/Trog survivor Cliff (John Hamill) are forgotten.

Apart from Gough, who pre-Batman was a delicious villain, all the acting is remote and disengaged, as if the cast was trying to distance itself from Trog while it was being made. Crawford and Gough had worked together before in Berserk!, also playing antagonists. Again they made for a fine pair of rivals, keeping the audience entertained with their verbal sparring.

I can also recommend John Scott's score, which is quite nice.

One thing that did trouble me and kept me from fully enjoying Trog was the violence near the end. Trog's killing spree was too graphic for my tastes, almost sadistic, and I lost some of the camp enjoyment. 

However, as oddball and bonkers as it was, Trog if nothing else had a sincere and committed Joan Crawford performance. What kind of commitment she should have offered Trog is something I leave to viewers. 

DECISION: C+

Young Bess: A Review

 

YOUNG BESS

Before she was Gloriana, she was Young Bess. Chronicling the early years of the Lady Elizabeth Tudor before she gained the throne as the third legitimate child of Henry VIII, Young Bess suffers from a stodginess that push it down. However, it is just respectable enough to make it acceptable if not as great as its subject. 

On the day Queen Mary I dies, two old servants to Lady Elizabeth (Jean Simmons) remember the tumultuous years that got them where they are now. Elizabeth Tudor, daughter of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII (Charles Laughton) forever finds herself declared illegitimate and legitimate, depending on what mood Henry is in. 

As much as Henry pins his hopes on his only legitimate son the Prince Edward (Rex Thompson), Henry knows that Elizabeth is also needed in case the future Edward VI and their elder sister Mary don't live. Bess, willful, stubborn but lonely too, has her own issues. She's fallen madly in love with handsome courtier Thomas Seymour (Stewart Granger), the only man who can coax a smile from the Lady/Princess Elizabeth. He, however, has eyes only for Catherine Parr (Deborah Kerr), Elizabeth's fourth stepmother.

Complicating matters more is that all three find themselves in Tudor court intrigue, forever on the swordsman's edge. Elizabeth sacrifices her love for Thomas by persuading him to let his third stepmother marry Thomas. Now, however, while Queen Elizabeth I now rises, she rises alone, her stepmother and Thomas having died long ago.

Young Bess is properly respectable, but at its heart we do not see the fires burning beneath the future Queen. Instead, we get a more dry telling of her extraordinary life. I think the main reason for that is because Young Bess loses steam when it forgets its protagonist.

It is a curious thing that despite the title Young Bess is not the main figure. Instead, Jan Lustig and Arthur Wimperis' adaptation of Margaret Irwin's novel focuses more attention on the Catherine Parr/Thomas Stewart romance that it might as well be titled The Not-So-Merry Widow. Perhaps this was due to trying to build up Kerr as Star (they rhyme) but neither she or Granger appeared to be anything other than stilted in their sweeping romance.

Young Bess herself seems more eager when playfully accepting the overtures of page Barnaby (Robert Arthur), a young lad clearly besotted with our noble lady. I would have preferred a film focusing on his thwarted love for the Tudor Princess, if only to see Elizabeth be more central to the film.  

It is a curious thing that Young Bess spent so much time away from Bess herself, a decision that pushed the film down. However, there are some elements that make it slightly more appealing.

Miklos Rozsa's score was appropriately lavish and grand, making for entertaining listening.

We see Charles Laughton play Henry VIII again after his Oscar-winning turn in The Private Life of Henry VIII. Loud, arrogant, proud, tyrannical but with a bit of mirth beneath the menace, Laughton's brief performance was enjoyable. His death scene was a bit of scenery-chewing, but I can forgive that. Simmons did well as the proud, haughty but lovelorn figure, doing the best she could with a weak script.

Again, if only Young Bess weren't so focused on the Thomas/Catherine romance. Despite being almost the main characters neither Granger or Kerr gave it their all, both too wrapped up in being "dashing" and "grand" to make Thomas or Catherine deep characters.

Young Bess is not a bad film, just a bit stodgy and less than what it could have been. Pleasant, non-threatening and a minor diversion, it is acceptable if nothing more. 

1533-1603

DECISION: C+ 

Spencer: A Review

 

SPENCER

What a difference a few years make. Since Twilight premiered, I have seen Robert Pattinson go from sparkling vampire to avenging Batman and Kristen Stewart go from lovelorn human to the late Princess of Wales. Spencer, an imagined glimpse into three tumultuous days of the former Lady Diana Spencer, has been highly praised. I see many of my brethren all but guaranteeing Stewart will win Best Actress in a cakewalk.

Now that I have seen Spencer, for my own view that is not an Oscar-winning performance. A bit too hallucinatory for most audiences, Spencer is more fever dream than straightforward biopic. Also, that is not an Oscar-winning performance.

"A Fable from a True Tragedy" as the film text tells us, Spencer covers the three days of Christmas 1991 or 1992 in the House of Windsor. While the rest of the family trudges through the rituals of monarchy, Diana, Princess of Wales (Stewart) endures what appears to be a break from reality.

She seems haunted metaphorically and literally by the ghost of Anne Boleyn (Amy Manson), another woman who married a royal only to have her head cut off. A Boleyn biography is left at her bed, and she finds kinship with her royal predecessor. Spencer's only consolation are her boys, Prince William (Jack Nielen) and Harry (Freddy Sprie). 

Her disconnect from her in-laws might come from her constant tardiness, stubborn refusal to perform even the most mundane of tasks asked and self-enforced isolation save for William and Harry. If she talks to others, it is either Major Alistair Gregory (Timothy Spall), Chief Chef Darren (Sean Harris) or her dresser Maggie (Sally Hawkins). Maggie was sent away, something that so upset the Princess she had to be brought back. As she goes through her bulimia and mental stability, she makes a firm stand against the royal pheasant shooting, forcing the royals to give up the boys to enjoy Kentucky Fried Chicken  and her to contemplate her future.

Spencer is the second biopic of "Famous Woman in Time of Crisis" directed by Pablo Larraín after the brilliant Jackie. Unlike Jackie, however, Spencer's screenplay by Steven Knight decided to take a slightly more esoteric manner to its subject by injecting a lot of fantasy. The end result, I figure, was to make Spencer more a meditation on our Princess. The end result made her look genuinely bonkers.

Scenes of her imagining literally eating pearls from her necklace or using wire cutters to tear at her skin do not help the case that Diana, Princess of Wales was sane. Instead, it makes her look dangerous to herself and to others. The fact that Spencer does not have her interact much if at all with the Windsors also creates a false idea that she was more willfully reclusive than neglected royal wife. It almost seems that Diana willfully pushed herself away from people versus being pushed. 

When she literally stood her ground and declared she would not move until her children came with her, I was surprised no one literally took a shot at her given how sometimes crazed she came across.

Spencer so drowns in overt symbolism that for me it veered into parody. The image of the scarecrow, her referring to pheasants as 'beautiful but not very bright", her wandering around an old home and the Diana/Boleyn connection were odd to say the least. I think some in the audience felt this too given that I saw a couple walk out.

That in itself isn't a good sign, but that they opted to leave Spencer at the Alamo Drafthouse says something to their impatience at the grand manner the film took.

Kristen Stewart has wowed fellow reviewers with her performance, but I was not wowed. I didn't find she played a character but more an impersonation. Her soft, breathy manner seemed more appropriate for a weak Marilyn Monroe biopic than a Diana, Princess of Wales one. If Spencer was meant for me to sympathize with the late Princess, it didn't work. She just wandered about the film, forever putting herself through misery. Only at the end when she finally fled Sandringham did she show any sign of life. 

Granted, that may have been the point, but it makes things hard when you get a biopic that does not tell you much if anything about the subject. I don't know if the main takeaway I got from Spencer was that Diana, Princess of Wales seemed downright looney and the Windsors were lucky to get her out, but there it is.

As Stewart has to carry almost all of the film, it makes for hard viewing. She can look like Diana, and maybe sound like her. However, to my mind there was no there there.

In smaller roles, Spall, Harris and Hawkins did better. I would put that to the fact that they behaved like real and sane people, not borderline nutters.

If there is something to complement Spencer on it is Jonny Greenwood's score. It blended jazz and chamber music quite well, echoing the late Princess' fragile hold on reality.

Spencer is one of those films critically adored but audiences won't easily embrace. Unlike the late Princess of Wales herself, I think few will be fond of this Spencer.

1961-1997

DECISION: C-

The Many Saints of Newark: A Review

 

THE MANY SAINTS OF NEWARK

I confess that while I have heard of the HBO series The Sopranos, I have not seen a single complete episode. I know bits and pieces as well as seen clips from the show about the life of our therapist-seeing mafioso. However, I know little to nothing about the myriad of characters and storylines The Sopranos spanned over its run. 

The Many Saints of Newark, which should serve as the beginning of Tony Soprano's rise, is clearly for the made men (and women) who know every inch of the Bada Bing! Club. For those of us on the outside, it is nearly incomprehensible. 

Told in voiceover Spoon River Anthology-like by Christopher Moltisanti (Michael Imperioli), we learn about his father, Richard "Dickie" Moltisanti (Alessandro Nivola). Dickie endures his father "Hollywood" Moltisanti (Ray Liotta) and his luscious new Italian bride Guissepina (Michela De Rossi). Dickie, a local mafioso, enforces the will of the family along with his associate Johnny Soprano (Jon Bernthal) and other figures.

They use black muscle to enforce their will, until the racial tensions in Newark explode. Former Moltisanti enforcer Harold McBrayer (Leslie Odom, Jr.) discovers his own black life matters and joins in the rioting. Fortunately for Dickie, the riots provide an excuse to blame his father's death on, even if it was purely accidental on his part.

Some time later, Dickie has taken Guissepina as his mistress and must confront Harold, all while serving as de facto role model for the young Tony Soprano (Michael Gandolfini). Assisting Dickie from prison is his uncle Sally (Liotta in a dual role of twin). As Dickie has to deal with various issues and both his families, not everyone comes out alive, including Dickie. Slowly but steadily, Tony Soprano must find his place in this world. 

I think that people unfamiliar with The Sopranos or who, like me, have some information but did not watch the show will find The Many Saints of Newark both puzzling and frustrating. I can speak only for myself, but when I went into The Many Saints of Newark, I thought I was going to watch the rise of Tony Soprano.

I didn't think I would end up watching the rise and fall of Dickie Montisanti.

Screenwriters Lawrence Konner and David Chase (the former who has written for The Sopranos, the latter who created it) decided to go all Phantom Menace/Solo: A Star Wars Story when it came to their iconic character. We saw how Uncle Junior Soprano (Cory Stoll) got his back issues. We got baby Christopher Moltisanti trying to steer clear of the teenage Tony, forever pushing him away. We saw Pussy Bonpensiore (Samson Moeakiola) before he became Big. 

Those are, I figure, nice and maybe even amusing touches for Sopranos fans (though even if I were well-versed in Sopranos lore I would find the "baby Christopher senses something bad from Tony" bit a bit too on-the-nose). However, The Many Saints of Newark essentially operates on the idea that the viewer already knows all these characters and situations. As such, it shuts the door on non/casual Sopranos watchers faster than Michael Corleone does to Kay.

At one point I noted "I don't know what's going on" because all these figures are mysteries to me. Worse, for a film that is a Sopranos prequel, the figure of Tony Soprano himself is pretty much absent in The Many Saints of Newark. He's a shadow, a mystery figure that slips in and out. The only thing I actually learned about Tony Soprano is that as a teen he was into hard rock. 

Since Tony Soprano barely played a part in The Many Saints of Newark, what you end up with is The Dickie Moltisanti Story, and he isn't all that interesting to focus so much attention on. This is not the fault of the actors, who did as well as they could with what they had.

I thought well of Nivola as Dickie, hot-headed enough to kill his mistress by drowning her in the ocean but tortured enough to attack a stolen television set at his father's funeral. Even though his scenes were sadly few, Bernthal was appropriately loutish and boorish as Johnny Soprano (a racist jailbird, as his wife described him at his "welcome home" party).

Speaking of Livia Soprano (Vera Farmiga), it's a shame that she was reduced to this whiny, neurotic slightly cranky figure. I find it hard to imagine that a woman who had tranquilizers recommended to her would end up putting out a hit on her own son.

At least I think Livia did. Again, not having deep knowledge of The Sopranos my memory may be faulty here, but The Many Saints of Newark wasn't about to bother trying to set things up for me. It assumed I already knew everything about our favorite next-door mobsters. 

There is a surprisingly somber, sluggish tone to The Many Saints of Newark that drag it down further. There is simply no joy here, and frankly too much fan-service to recommend the film if you are not a Sopranos fan.

DECISION: C-

Dune (1984): A Review

DUNE (1984)

In the filmography of David Lynch, his adaptation of Frank Herbert's massive science-fiction epic Dune is a curiosity. Loved by some, loathed by others, disowned by Lynch, perhaps now we can look at Dune again with new eyes, fresh eyes. It is time for the sleeper to reawaken. 

The planet Arrakis, also known as Dune, is the source of major conflict between two grand intergalactic Houses. One noble family, House Atreides, has taken over Arrakis from their bitter rivals, House Harkonnen. 

Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Kenneth McMillan), secretly in league with Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV (Jose Ferrer) will eliminate House Atreides and retake Dune. Standing in his way is Duke Leto Atreides (Jurgen Prochnow) and his son, Paul (Kyle MacLachlan). The Duke's concubine, the Lady Jessica (Francesca Annis), once a member of the nun-like Bene Gesserit order, has trained her son in the ways of the order. 

Could Paul be the Kwisatz Haderach, a long-prophesied Messiah-like figure? Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam (Sian Phillips) fears as much. She too joins in the plot against the Atreides, but despite everyone's best efforts the now-Duke Paul and the Lady Jessica survive. They also join the native Arrakis Fremen people, who will stop the spice production and bring total war against the Harkonnen and Emperor, where Paul's sister Alia (Alicia Roanne Witt) and the Baron's bloodthirsty nephew Feyd Rautha (Sting) will involve themselves in this epic battle.

At a certain point, one gets the sense that even David Lynch (who adapted the novel as well as directed) thinks all this is so much patent silliness. You can't have the Emperor of the Known Universe shout out "Bring in that floating fat man!" and not expect people to burst out laughing. One thinks that even if Dune kept elements from the book to the film, the idea that anyone could take seeing a cat milked seriously boggles the imagination more than the sandworms that threaten Arrakis.

Dune is filled with oddball moments that they astonish the viewer, not in amazement but in stunning incomprehension. When the Harkonnen army is attacking the Atreides Arrakis fortress, military leader Gurney Halleck (Patrick Stewart) leads his troops with "LONG LIVE DUKE LETO!" while holding the noble family's pet pug. As to why Gurney is cradling the pug one simply has no idea. When Gurney reappears to the now Fremen-like Paul, the questions of exactly how Gurney survived for an unknown amount of time and especially what happened to the dog are not answered. 

To be fair to Lynch, he was given an impossible task in trying to fit in what is a grand epic story into one film. So much of Dune has to be explained to the viewer that the film buckles under the massive weight. With endless characters and plots the film eventually becomes incomprehensible. I imagine that even those who read Herbert's novel would find Dune near gibberish with things going so fast that it becomes a muddle. For those who have never read Dune, things simply become too convoluted to try and sort it all out.

Take Paul's romance with the female Fremen Chani (Sean Young). The film has them going from meeting to passionately in love in what seems minutes. As Dune tries to move on from one thing to another, things have to either be rushed or forgotten. The Fremen servant Shadout Mapes (Linda Hunt) says some kind of warning to herself in voiceover, pops in to see Paul, and then is seeing dying during the Harkonnen attack. 

It's simply astonishing that experienced filmmakers could have a character apparently meant to be important (or at least relevant) pop in and out with nary a rhyme or reason.

This leads us to perhaps one of Dune's most disastrous elements: the infamous voiceovers. As the plot is so thick, Lynch resorted to voiceovers to try and fill in plot points and details. Dune literally opens with a voiceover from Princess Irulan (Virginia Madsen), which to be fair worked well. It is only later that the viewer keeps hearing the thoughts of endless number of characters that it slips into farce. 

While this is probably not a definitive count of  Dune's voiceover use, I counted five times when Madsen's Irulan explained plot details or moved the plot forward through dialogue. That Irulan literally figured in no way to Dune's plot apart from being de facto narrator makes the choice of having her explain things more puzzling.

Even that perhaps could be forgiven, but not Dune's endless voiceovers from so many other characters that it becomes maddening. I counted, give or take, a stunning FIFTY-FOUR times when a character spoke his/her thoughts. While MacLachlan's Paul carried the bulk of the mind-thoughts, we also literally heard the thoughts of the Lady Jessica, the Reverend Mother, the Baron Harkonnen, Fyed, Mapes, Fremen expert Doctor Kynes (Max von Sydow), the Atreides' loyal servant Thufir Hawat (Freddie Jones) and perhaps the Emperor and Duke Leto. 

It is more than likely I missed a few, but the endless "softly speaking my thoughts" grew so incessant that the audience could probably guess correctly when someone would start whispering their inner thoughts to themselves.

This, for whatever reason (desperation, disinterest) was how Lynch both moved the plot forward and tried to give backstory. It simply didn't work, causing nothing more than frustration and puzzlement.

Dune was also hampered by a poor production design. It wants us to look upon the leaders of the Spacing Guild as these powerful, albeit mutated beings pulling the strings behind the scenes. However, as my late friend Fidel Gomez, Jr. observed, they look like giant talking penises.

And he actually liked Dune!

The world of Dune looks like massive sets from a foreign production: in turns gaudy and fake. Nothing looks real and the efforts to make things seem real make Dune look more fake. Perhaps credit can be given to certain moments where Dune looks like a low-grade acid trip, but so much of it looks and feels bonkers. 

In terms of performances, I don't think even the actors knew what was going on. Bless actors like Ferrer, who were forced to try to make massive info dumps sound rational. However, Dune's screenplay damned them into nearly-impossible situations. Almost every actor appears stiff in a misguided effort to make Dune appear serious versus silly, but the near-uniformity of blankness helps no one.

MacLachlan went on to better collaborations with Lynch (Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks), but Dune shows him weak, stumbling through bad dialogue and showing his lack of experience. As if to compensate for the stiffness of almost everyone else, McMillan's Baron Harkonnen embraced the sheer insanity of things by being unapologetically wildly over-the-top, devouring every scene with almost manic frenzy. Sting was apparently having a grand old time as Feyd, the murderous crazed villain determined to kill the potential Messiah.

I think only Sian Phillips managed to come across as remotely sensible as the Reverend Mother, though her "GET OUT OF MY MIND!" cry has become a gif.

If I find any good in Dune, it is in Toto's score, which sounds like an early-80's rock concept album. Curiously, the one track not written by Toto was The Prophecy Theme. That was written by Brian Eno, and with its vaguely New Age/Music From the Hearts of Space manner it is surprising Eno didn't score the whole of Dune versus just one excellent number.

Despite its myriad of flaws, I cannot help but if not love David Lynch's Dune, at least find it entertaining. Whether I find it entertaining due to its whacked-out nature or not I cannot say for certain. It may be crazy, maybe even awful, but Dune is never nothing short of weirdly fascinating. 

DECISION: C+