input: L'Hypothese du tableau vole/The Hypothesis of the Stolen Painting (1979) begins in the courtyard of an old, three-story Parisian apartment building. Inside, we meet The Collector, an elderly man who has apparently devoted his life to the study of the six known existing paints of an obscure Impressionist-era painter, Tonnerre. A narrator recites various epigrams about art and painting, and then engages in a dialogue with The Collector, who describes the paintings to us, shows them to us, tells us a little bit about the painter and the scandal that brought him down, and then tells us he's going to show us something....

As he walks through a doorway, we enter another world, or worlds, or perhaps to stretch to the limits, other possible worlds. The Collector shows us through his apparently limitless house, including a large yard full of trees with a hill; within these confines are the 6 paintings come to life, or half-way to life as he walks us through various tableaux and describes to us the possible meanings of each painting, of the work as a whole, of a whole secret history behind the paintings, the scandal, the people in the paintings, the novel that may have inspired the paintings. And so on, and so on. Every room, every description, leads us deeper into a labyrinth, and all the while The Collector and The Narrator engage in their separate monologues, very occasionally verging into dialogue, but mostly staying separate and different.

I watched this a second time, so bizarre and powerful and indescribable it was, and so challenging to think or write about. If I have a guess as to what it all adds up to, it would be a sly satire of the whole nature of artistic interpretation. An indicator might be found in two of the most amusing and inexplicable scenes are those in which The Collector poses some sexless plastic figurines -- in the second of them, he also looks at photos taken of the figurines that mirror the poses in the paintings -- then he strides through his collection, which is now partially composed of life-size versions of the figures. If we think too much about it and don't just enjoy it, it all becomes just faceless plastic....

Whether I've come to any definite conclusions about "L'Hypothese du tableau vole", or not, I can say definitely that outside of the early (and contemporaneous) works of Peter Greenaway like "A Walk Through H", I've rarely been so enthralled by something so deep, so serious, so dense....and at heart, so mischievous and fun.

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pos/neg ans: positive

input: This is one of those movies that appears on cable at like two in the afternoon to entertain bored housewives while they iron. The acting is second rate. Poor Mathew Modine seems to sleepwalk through the whole film. And god help Gina Gershon. Her accent is too over the top. It sounds nothing like an true English woman. It sounds forced and phony, much like her acting. She should stick to what she does best, lesbian showgirl con-artist who plays in a rock & roll band and has a drug problem. The other characters are no better. They are two dimensional. empty, vapid and silly. How are we to supposed to care about these people. At one point Christy Scott Cashman get's lost in Central Park. Really? It's not that hard to navigate Central Park. Just follow any path out. Not only did I not care about ANY of the characters,I downright hated them. The only reason I even stayed with this train-wreck of a film was Fisher Stevens. Even his brilliant humor couldn't save this dying Fish. Each scene is typical romantic comedy fare and nothing is left to surprise us. The script was awful as was the acting. If you catch this Fish throw it back!

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pos/neg ans: negative

input: A surprisingly good movie! It has quite a few good jokes thru out the whole movie. The only negative thing is that some scenes go to the extremes to show just how stupid the two main characters are. We get it, stupid blondes, get on with it!

The plot just barely dodges being called "corny". And boobies are always a plus altho the movie for some strange reason doesn't play with that card very much even tho the plot line introduces two black haired women who act as the evil counter part of our two blondes.

So all in all, a good movie to watch. I almost gave it an 8/10, but let's not get crazy.

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pos/neg ans: positive

input: Think of a no-budget version of China Syndrome being directed by a film student who idolizes John Woo and you'll get 'Power Play.' The idea was good, but the execution, acting, and dialog absolutely killed it, not to mention ridiculous amounts of violence and disaster sequences that was used to compensate for lack of substance and development of the more interesting parts of the movie.

This is the story of a reporter investigating the disappearance of three members of a guerrilla activist group who mysteriously went missing after they broke into the offices of a power plant that is suspected to be causing a frenzy of earthquake. The rather cavalier reporter, going up against what should've been a more ruthless bunch of company execs, is chased around town (along with anyone he speaks to) in order to "clean" whatever conclusive evidence might remain of the plant's faults.

Unfortunately, there is no real sense of emergency because the characters interact with much hesitancy, coupled with idiotic dialog and a lot of horrible acting. Not to mention, the viewer, who may only be attracted to the movie for it's action genre appeal, is forced to endure a mounting body count and ridiculous amounts of violent shoot em-ups plus earthquake disaster scenes. All of the focus was put in the wrong place to apologetically compensate for the lack of direction and more interesting sequence of events that should've propelled the story. It might've been much better had the filmmakers focused more on a thriller, and paid greater attention to developing the corruption aspects of this story. Creepy villains, a naive reporter, and those who attempt to alert the reporter of the wrong-doing afoot. It is formulaic, but at least it would've been entertaining.

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pos/neg ans:
negative