January 27, 1995 by Trent Ernst Welcome to Scriptwriting 101. To- day we’re going to discuss stereotypes in Hollywood movies. Where should we begin? Oh yes. The black chick. Black chicks are always tough as nails, cynical and wisecrackers. This hard-edged bitter- ess covers, of course, the proverbial heart of gold. Next, we have the conservative white woman. She’s got to be perky, shy (but with backbone of steel) and use re- ally childish expressions that nobody has used since the fifties. This allows us to mock her conservativism when she runs into the aforementioned black chick. Whoops! There goes the first hour or so of this movie, an amalgam of tried and true Hollywood sentimentality and devices. From the women’s night out oad trip motif (shades of Thelma and Louise, maybe?), to the killing of an abu- sive male (again...), the first hour of this movie is littered with roadsigns (literally as well as figuratively. Can you say ‘prod- by D.G. Black When I recently viewed this Robert Altman film, I didn’t know whether to call it absolute merde or genius; this film was a confusing genre to judge. From the opening scene of Mos- cow’s rapid march towards brand-name parity with the West, I knew that Altman was about to unwind another satire in the tradition of-_earlier films such as M*A*S*H and Nashville. What did unwind was a series of comical scenes set amongst the fashion folk in the centre-of-fashion: Paris. The same industry that has produced the Chanel and Christian Dior dynasties is ripe for satire with its grotesque preten- tiousness; a display of self-aggrandizing fashions that look like they’ ve taken their cues from our medication-deprived citi- zens. As lithe, Nilotic-looking models trutted down the catwalk, I wondered who the hell would wear these bizarre and surreal designs; apparently I‘m not invited to the right parties. With Altman’s keen mind for de- picting characters driven by their own egos and hedonism, he has crafted a screenplay with some interesting aspects. Kim Basinger, with a cornpone Southern drawl, plays a fashion reporter from some American media outlet. She guides us among the walking cadavers of the fashion industry who dis- If you want to see a couple _ conversation topics, you might enjo accent you'll want to check this out. uct placement?’ ) that tell us that this movie is pure Hollywood. Whoopi Goldberg plays the black chick role who is also, surprise, surprise, a singer. Mary-Louise Parker plays her racial counterpart. Drew Barrymore fills out the trinity playing (surprise, surprise) white trash (can she do anything else?) and gets to show her breasts every once in a while. The three set out across the country, each searching for a new life. Once the film settles down (in Ari- zona) it thankfully looses some of its blus- tering pretentiousness and becomes a well paced character drama. The inter- play between Whoopi and Mary-Louise during the last half of the movie is magi- cal. Barrymore is an unfortunate burden we must bear, whose only purpose in the movie is to show some skin, and have a baby, bringing home the ‘cycle of life’ theme. Unfortunately, when the violins begin to swell, the movie falls back into the same trap that it started out with.. The play the bad skin of lifestyle excesses and leaden Paris air. Tim Robbins is the “Ugly Ameri- can in Paris” who tries to re-book his hotel room over top of Julia Roberts' reservation. The two characters, both journalists, end-up not only sharing the room together, but after a bottle of com- plimentary champagne, Julia becomes anybody’s Pretty Woman. Stephen ‘Crying Game' Rea is great as a fashion magazine photographer soon-to-be-a-free-agent. He is courted by several senior editors from competing fashion magazines (Sally Kellerman, Linda Hunt, and Tracy Ullman, right) and the subsequent scenes are great ex- amples of the perpetual need to get the best soldiers in your business army, by whatever means necessary. Sophia Loren (still looking good at 60) is the wife of the French Fashion Council head who seems more interested in looking good for her public than griev- ing for her mistakenly-murdered hus- band. Her long-lost first husband (Marcello Mastroianni), suddenly shows-up, recreating a farcical reprise of their 1960s films. And finally Richard E. Grant as a queer English designer and his lover For- est Whittaker, an American designer, have one of many secret liaisons in this film. Ready To Wear is not 1992’s The The Other Press Boys on the Side not all that filling last scene is so politically, ethnically, ra- cially, genderally, agedly and haired-ly correct it’s disgusting. Whoopie gets to pull a Bette Midler, a la Beaches, to Mary-Louise’s Barbara Hershey, sing- ing a heart-wrenching (or gut wrench- ing, depending) version of “You Got It,” before a small gathering of people that just happens to include blacks, whites, Asians, old’people, young people, cops, rockers, gays, straights, and a cornuco- pia of others. The message is obvious, and slightly heavy handed. There is a great deal of attention paid to the fact that Whoopi plays a les- bian, but what concerns me more is the fact that this ‘women’s movie’ about “women’s issues’ and ‘women’s sexu- ality’ with an all female soundtrack, is directed by a man. It is also written, pro- duced, scored, designed and photo- graphed by men. The only female crew member listed in the production notes is the costume designer. One can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. Player or 1993’s Shortcuts, but it is a slice of the human condition that if I hadn’t seen in film form, I would have never seen. According to many film reviewers and the fashion industry, this is a stinker. But if the fashion industry hated it, then it must be good. “BEEORE SOINIRIUSIE A Richard Linklater Film Three overpaid famous acting chicks smiling in a car they probably aren't even really driving 'cos it's just a movie. When all is said and done, Boys on the Side is an enjoyable, if derivative film. The strong middle section salvages this movie, but it doesn’t wholly redeem it. Likewise, the conventional story that bookends Boys drags it down, but does not destroy it. Ready to Wear wears out reviewer New Altman flick: Clothes, the Final Frontier A scene from Hamlet, or Ready To Wear? Only their ; hairdressers, * Stephen Rea, ' and Robert Altman know for sure... 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