New York, 1953. One hot night, four famous iconic figures will come together. The professor (Albert Einstein) has come to NY to give a speech, which he has, the senator (Joesph MacCarthy) on his back. Later that night his gets a surprise visitor; a famous actress (Marilyn Monroe). Who actually wants to discuss the theories of Relativity. Soon her ball-playing husband (Joe DiMaggio) turns up at the hotel room, begging to work things out for their crumbling relationship. Flashbacks of childhood, important events, perceived consequences of their actions creep in to show how these individuals cope with despair and a hidden fear waiting to break out.
Now that's one-of-a-kind! Adapted off a stage-play by Terry Johnson (who would also script the screenplay for the film), "Insignificance" is an odd, quirky, seductive and downright curious fictional pop-culture gimmick in the hands of director Nicolas Roeg. This inspired and cerebral experimental effort might be rooted in its stage-play origins, because it does feel theatrical and most of the action occurs in a hotel backdrop and one main suite. The cramp look only enhanced the moody and smoky atmosphere of New York to great effect. However these limitations can't contain the fruitful and daring ideas that Roeg manages to randomly storm up visually and through the meaningful material. The way he reflects on the characters' (who are suggestively famous figures, without the need of naming of them) philosophical journeys and interpretations of their notions is stimulating in a spiritual sense, with the memories gelling into the present and visions showing their fears of realisations, which depending on what you're seeing is either beautiful, or hauntingly implemented. There's plenty of food for thought and hints within the verbosely innovative (if sometimes awkward) script, with the main focus concerning the present situation, but the flashbacks gives us the personal make-up (sex, power, enlightenment and glory) of what makes them who they are and how much of a burden it can be in there already demanding lives. Sure the story might not lead to anything by the end, and it can feel disjointed, but the dreamy vibe and intelligent arrangement irons out those folds and makes sure it never turns giddy. Peter Hannan's sensually fluid photography and Stanley Myers' titillatingly oozing blues soundtrack fit in snugly with Roeg's stylistically subdue and established style of directing. He makes it look like he's working with something big and large-scale, but otherwise that's not the case and a small little universe is created. The vintage costumes and locations of the period all come off fittingly enough. What made the film for me had to be the impressive acting it boasted from the main four. Theresa Russell's perky, drop dead gorgeous appeal of the sexy pin-up actress is a growing portrayal that definitely held the film together along with an genuinely excellent and endearing performance by Michael Emil as the professor. Tony Curtis marvellously plays it up as witch-hunting senator and Gary Busey is suitably good in the stoically gravel manner as the ballplayer. Showing up in minor, but amusing support roles happen to be Will Sampson and Patrick Kilpatrick.
A memorably striking, fresh and tour de force meditation piece of metaphysics linked together by four different extremes. Some might find it pretentiously estrange and too talky, but this one had me wrapped up in its own little unique world to worry too much about its shortcomings.

There's not much to say about this one. Gammera is some kind of fire breathing turtle. He is loosed by a nuclear explosion. He heads for land and begins to destroy building and tanks and other junk (oh yeah, power lines. I almost forgot). At one time, early in the film, he befriends a little boy, and instead of just throwing him away, or squashing him, he places him down on the ground. Safe. From then on we have to watch this chubby faced little twerp show up and run away, show up and run away, show up and run away. For some reason, Gammera is able to hear this kid from 20,000 feet away. Oh, well, the plot is to try to get Gammera to get to a place where he can be put on board a rocket and shot into space. As usual, the monster is lumbering and uncoordinated (a guy in a Gammera suit). The Japanese army (with the help of Americans), uses up enough ammunition and fire power to solve the national debt, and, of course, it does no good. They should know this anyway. We've seen a lot of monsters stomp on Tokyo. Not to put these down because they can be fun, but it's really not very good.