Pictured Drew Barrymore in Charlie's Angels. Black Aura at the Black Harvest International Festival.
My Date with Drew, November, The Night of the Hunter
The premise of the self-deprecating charmer My Date with Drew is simple enough: plucky nebbish Brian Herzlinger wants to take out Drew Barrymore. Though he is out of work, has only a thousand dollars to his name ( which he won on a game show ) , and no personal connection to his intended, Brian, with the help of his friends, is determined to get the date. Upping the ante, the trio of friends buy a video camera with a 30-day return guarantee policy and take up the challenge of documenting their attempt to help Brian realize his dream before the camera has to go back. It's a gimmicky premise that would quickly wear out its welcome without the immense likeability of Herzlinger and the continual inventiveness and comradeship that he and his friends share.
With that prologue, this breezy little documentary, ( so friendly that it's defined as 'a film by Jon, Brian and Brett' ) takes off at a mad dash. From the start, Herzlinger has a huge amount of audience rapport and the film is endeared—for the most part—by its brash yet naïve central subject. Though there's lots and lots of talk about Barrymore, however, we never really find out why our sweet underdog of a hero has such a thing for the elusive star to begin with. Though he repeatedly worries about 'the stalker effect' hampering his quest from coming to fruition, any real lack of explanation for his fascination with her seems a bit odd. Beyond pointing out his initial crush on Barrymore coming about because of E.T. ( and who didn't fall in love with cute little Gertie? ) , Herzlinger doesn't have anything else to say about the actress. He doesn't talk about the adult Barrymore or liking her charming performances in Ever After or Riding in Cars with Boys or even The Wedding Singer, not to mention more than a passing interest in her private life.
Perhaps this is because Barrymore the actress and personality are not really the point. This is only surreptitiously a film about her anyway. Herzlinger could be trying to get a date with Cameron Diaz or Demi Moore or the Queen of England. It seems that any celebrity will do nicely as the movie's really about Herzlinger and his friends and their Light Bulb of an idea for a way to get noticed by the entertainment business they're trying to break into.
Though the execution is padded out and the film sags badly at the halfway point ( there's lots of stuff about Herzlinger's large amount of body hair, for example ) it perks up toward the end as more and more people are enlisted to make the quest come true ( including funny cameo appearances by Eric Roberts and Corey Feldman ) . Documentaries this light and airy are rare ( Trekkies was another ) , which is another reason to recommend it. And the movie has a hilarious and rather touching payoff that makes the end worth the wait.
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November, a psychological drama starring Courteney Cox, owes a heavy debt to Antonioni's Blow-Up, DePalma's Blow Out, and Polanski's The Tenant. These are excellent antecedents but Greg Harrison, the editor-director of November, while not exactly coming up with a worthy successor to those minor classics, at least doesn't embarrass himself by borrowing too liberally from them. The film is being billed as a thriller but that dulls its assets—workmanlike though they are. And it's not bad to suggest that November is the sort of film that will make its greatest impact on DVD.
Shot in a palette of gray, blue and black, the story centers on the fragile relationship between Sophie ( Cox ) and Hugh ( James LeGros ) , a couple recently reunited after Sophie has admitted to an affair. Late at night, driving home from dinner, Sophie has a craving for something sweet and sends Hugh into one of those late-night delis. Moments later, while a Motown tune blares from the car radio where Sophie is waiting steps away, a botched robbery leaves everyone in the store dead—including Hugh. But did Hugh really die? Sophie, who teaches photography and advises her students, 'You decide what goes into the frame and what stays out' is suddenly freaked out when she comes across a series of photos of the robbery that seems to question just that.
As the film proceeds, we see, in David Lynch-Run Lola Run style, three different possible scenarios ( unoriginally titled, 'Denial,' 'Despair,' and 'Acceptance' ) of the robbery-murder and its affect on the characters. The result is a somewhat interesting story that's mostly well acted. Cox does good work but is lazily saddled with a pair of glasses to make her appear more serious. She is well matched by the always welcome LeGros and nicely supported ( thanks to Anne Archer and Nora Dunn ) . The whole thing lasts under 80 minutes and ends not a moment too soon as these emotionally stunted characters are not folks that you're going to want to spend much time with. The evocative music score by Lew Baldwin is quietly effective.
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One of my favorite films of all time, the alternately terrifying, heartwarming, eerily beautiful The Night of the Hunter from 1955, will be presented at the Chicago Outdoor Film Festival at Grant Park next Tuesday, Aug. 9. This is a rare opportunity to see this masterpiece on the large screen. The film, set during the Depression, and following the theme of innocence destroyed, stars Robert Mitchum as a serial killer masquerading as a preacher wooing the recently widowed Shelley Winters.
The ditzy Winters, mother of two, isn't aware ( as the children are ) that her late husband stashed the proceeds from a bank robbery with the kids. But the flamboyant, sexy, sloe-eyed preacher ( who has 'L-O-V-E tattooed on one hand and 'H-A-T-E' tattooed on the other ) soon becomes aware that the children are hiding the secret and a terrifying cat and mouse game begins.
Beautifully acted ( this is easily Mitchum's best performance ) by its leading players that include Lillian Gish as a sort of fairy godmother to orphans, the film is also gorgeously shot in black and white by Stanley Cortez and hauntingly scored by Walter Schumann. Best of all is the direction by Charles Laughton. This was the only film helmed by the closeted gay actor. Sadly, its financial failure and lukewarm critical response at the time of its release kept him from directing another—a tragedy in light of the tour de force that he made with this, his first and only film.
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Local Screening of Note: Faith Trimel, star-director-writer of Black Aura on an Angel, which is described as a 'lesbian thriller' in which a young woman is carried away by a romance with a seductress with a Jekyll-Hyde bent, is playing as part of the Black Harvest International Festival of Film and Video. The movie plays at the Gene Siskel Center Saturday, Aug. 6 and Wednesday, Aug. 10. Trimel, a former Chicagoan, will be present for an audience discussion at the Aug. 6 screening. www.siskelfilmcenter.org
