Problem: Write a positive (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer: William Powell is a doctor dealing with a murder and an ex-wife in "The Ex-Mrs. Bradford," also starring Jean Arthur, Eric Blore, and James Gleason. It seems that Powell had chemistry going with just about any woman with whom he was teamed. Though he and Myrna Loy were the perfect screen couple, the actor made a couple of other "Thin Man" type movies, one with Ginger Rogers and this one with Arthur, both to very good effect.

Somehow one never gets tired of seeing Powell as a witty, debonair professional and "The Ex-Mrs. Bradford" is no exception. The ex-Mrs. B has Mr. B served with a subpoena for back alimony and then moves back in to help him solve a mystery that she's dragged him into. And this isn't the first time she's done that! It almost seems as though there was a "Bradford" film before this one or that this was intended to be the first of a series of films - Mr. B complains that his mystery-writer ex is constantly bringing him into cases. This time, a jockey riding the favorite horse in a raise mysteriously falls off the horse and dies right before the finish line.

The solution of the case is kind of outlandish but it's beside the point. The point is the banter between the couple and the interference of the ex-Mrs. B. Jean Arthur is quite glamorous in her role and very funny. However, with an actress who comes off as brainy as Arthur does, the humor seems intentional rather than featherbrained. I suspect the writer had something else in mind - say, the wacky side of Carole Lombard. When Arthur hears that the police have arrived, she says, "Ah, it's probably about my alimony. I've been waiting for the police to take a hand in it," it's more of a rib to Powell rather than a serious statement. It still works well, and it shows how a good actress can make a part her own.

Definitely worth watching, as William Powell and Jean Arthur always were.

Problem: Write a negative (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer: The cast is OK. The script is awkward at times, and it takes a while to figure out what the point of the movie is. I found myself looking forward to doing the dishes. The Shehan bit is a cheesy statement on the war. I guess we were supposed to not notice it...we did. Its a house, you did nothing more than kill forty five minutes. The shower part...huh? What was that about? Literally, it is I have a client, "Ok you can use our shower." Yawn. The angles are trying way to hard. There was a set of woods, suddenly its gone cause you can see right through, then next it is deep and animals are dying. In the end this is a horrendous movie of boring proportions.

Problem: Write a negative (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer: Well, I don't think the picture is as bad as most of the reviews make it out to be. . . but there's no denying that it's got problems.

Mostly, the problems are in the script. There's a plot - but not much story, and certainly not one that anybody could call plausible; it trots out any number of self-consciously strange and/or stereotypical characters, lines, moments, what-have-you and, by the end, it just hasn't added up to much in this department.

Sorry, but I couldn't care less about whatever "social ill" Farnsworth might be trying to address; there will always be a sector of the population willing to do just about anything to shred their brains, even if it requires running around corn fields trying to steal ammonia, or whatever it is those morons do. So, as a film, you won't find me calling "Iowa" "important." But, at a stylistic level, the picture is more than interesting and some of Farnsworth's choices in depicting a meth-head's wigged-out state are beautiful, hilarious, disturbing and - yes, I'm going to say it - inspired.

The acting is uneven, but that just may be a casualty of the afore-praised stylistic reaching. Look, Rosanna Arquette is a fine actress - but she's not very good here, so a discriminating audience member does have to ask, "What happened?" It's weird that Diane Foster manages a simplicity and grace that so few of the other actors can come anywhere near. For example, I might seriously consider whatever explanation Farnsworth could provide for Michael T. Weiss's over-the-top turn as a probation officer, but I doubt I'd ever buy it; It Just Doesn't Work.

Then again, it's the most alive and in the moment that I've seen John Savage appear in years. So go figure.

This is the sort of work that tantalizes, but does not promise - and that's okay; neither Farnsworth nor anyone else is required to make movies. So, whether or not Farnsworth has another film in him remains to be seen, but if he does, it seems pretty likely that it won't be bland pap. In an age when people are planning their lives around the latest installment of "American Idol," perhaps we could allow, not scorn, Farnsworth's legitimate and undeniably flawed film.

What is more, perhaps we could welcome, not berate, his energetic and sometimes blessedly idiosyncratic imagination.

Problem: Write a negative (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer:
But I doubt many were running to see this movie. Or "Some Came Running Out Of The Cinema". Okay, that's a bit harsh.

The film starts in an unintentionally comical way: Frankie-boy comes back to his hometown after many years (this already smells of cliches) and the whole town is shaken by his arrival: he is talked about, everyone wants to talk to him, and every woman he meets flirts with him like there's no tomorrow - even his niece hints that she would gladly have dropped her date to chat with Frankie-boy a little longer! Even his pretty niece wants a piece of him! Sounds like one of those laughable "Mike Hammer" episodes where EVERY single female wants Stacey Keach. And, like Stacey Keach, Frankie-boy is anything but a good-looking woman's wet dream. In real life, someone like Sinatra (without the fame) wouldn't get within 100 m of someone as beautiful as MacLaine. But in this Hollywood movie it's the other way around: MacLaine is absolutely nuts about Frankie-boy, but HE couldn't care less! Sinatra plays his "cool" shtick much too often in his movies, and it is rarely credible. Dean Martin is kind of miscast; he isn't miscast as a card-player, but rather because of the accent which simply doesn't suit him. MacLaine is charming as ever, but she plays a caricature - and this reliance on caricatures is one of the basic problems with the film. The main characters are all some sort of stereotypes out of bad or seen-it-all-before movies and cheap novels; Frankie is the "cool cat" who comes back to town to get all the women, and he couldn't care less about his writing (which, predictably, eventually garners recognition); Martin is a sleazy but friendly card-player; MacLaine is the dumb, but very likable bimbo; Frankie's blond love-interest is a snotty literary expert; Frankie's brother is the successful guy who married into his wife's business and has a lousy marriage; and so on. Cliches.

The story contains a couple of coincidences which are a little too far-fetched for my taste: Frankie just happens to bump into his niece in a locale; his niece just happens to be meters away from her daddy when the latter kisses his secretary for the FIRST time; and then there is the awful, stupid ending.

In it, a drunk guy bent on killing Frankie-boy somehow manages to find him in a carnival of all places! The place is utterly crowded, with the typical noise and chaos - plus it's happening in the evening - and yet the guy somehow finds Frankie (in spite of being drunk as a doorknob) and shoots at him. But guess who he kills? MacLaine. She jumps in front of the bullet to save Frankie: a cliche which comic-book writers might cringe at. This utterly pathetic, over-dramatic, and annoying ending certainly cannot please any, even semi-intelligent, viewer. And this happens on the same day that MacLaine and Sinatra got married! The writer of this nonsense seems to have read crappy dime novels his whole life - how else is the writing of this movie to be explained? There is even a card game in which a brawl ensues with Frankie & Martin vs. some cliche caricatures out of the writer's "vivid" imagination. (It was like a damn Western suddenly.) Another dumb thing is the way Sinatra was crazy about the boring snotty-nosed bimbo and pretty much ignored MacLaine. As the movie progresses we find out that Sinatra finds MacLaine to be too dumb for him, just as the blond bimbo finds Sinatra to be too low-class for her. There is a certain snobbism and disdain to be detected in the script regarding MacLaine. MacLaine is treated as worthless by everyone, while the blond bimbo is treated as a princess and an intellectual; the ironic truth is that the latter's character comes off as rather dumb and not at all as intellectual; her behaviour, comments, and opinions are mostly cliched, silly, confused, pretentious, and primitive. At least MacLaine's character KNOWS that she (MacLaine) is dumb. There is another irony that I didn't fail to notice: Sinatra had trouble finding an ending for his latest story - much like the writer of this movie, and that's why he came up with the corny, crappy finale.

The film basically has a solid cast, and the photography is nice, but the script, though sometimes okay, relies to heavily on silly nonsense instead of on reality-based characters and events.

If you're interested in reading my "biographies" of Shirley MacLaine and other Hollywood intellectuals, contact me by e-mail.