BODY OF EVIDENCE

Madonna

BODY OF EVIDENCE (1993.) Director: Uli Edel.

Rebecca Carlson (Madonna of Die Another Day) enjoys kinky sex with her elderly lover, Andrew (Michael Forest). When he dies, cocaine is not only found in his system, but in a nasal spray by the bed, and an autopsy confirms that the combination of the coke and his bad heart led to his death. Rebecca is put on trial for first degree murder with Frank Dulaney (Willem Dafoe of American Psycho) as her lawyer, and Robert Garrett (Joe Mantagna) as the prosecutor. Predictably, Rebecca initiates Frank -- who is married to Sharon (Julianne Moore) -- into some mild "bondage and discipline" sex. Meanwhile other suspects emerge during the trial, including Andrew's ex-lover and secretary, Joanne (Anne Archer), and Rebecca's ex-lovers, Dr. Paley (Jurgen Prochnow) and Jeffrey Roston (Frank Langella). It seems she had a habit of bedding older men with heart conditions and big bank accounts. But did Rebecca murder Andrew or not, and what will the verdict be? It would be easy to pick apart Body of Evidence (which was pretty much excoriated when it first came out), but despite its flaws, I found the movie suspenseful and entertaining. As the very bad girl, Madonna gives a competent performance, but it has no shadings; Mantagna, Dafoe and others are far superior. The protracted sex scenes in the movie will either stimulate or nauseate the viewer depending on whether or not you find Madonna and Dafoe especially attractive (I don't), but they seem to go on forever. One sequence could be described as borderline rape. Rebecca's home and gallery is so large and luxurious that one wonders why she needs anyone else's money (mortgages, perhaps). Michael Forest  [The Money Jungle], the tall, handsome. well-built actor who had numerous film and TV roles in the sixties and who played Adonis on Star Trek, has no lines but simply plays Andrew as a corpse. The film is well-directed by Uli Edel, and looks good as well. Frank Langella again plays an apparently bisexual character as he did in Diary of a Mad Housewife.

Verdict: No Paradine Case, certainly, but on its own terms, a fun junk movie that often resembles softcore porn. ***.

ALL GOOD THINGS

ALL GOOD THINGS (2010). Director: Andrew Jarecki.

David Marks (Ryan Gosling) is considered the fucked-up son of real estate man, Sanford Marks (Frank Langella). One good thing in his life seems to be his wife, Katie (Kirsten Dunst), who discovers that he's becoming increasingly moody, distant, and violent. One day Katie simply disappears and is never seen again. Then bad things happen to two of David's friends, Deborah (Lily Rabe), who may have been blackmailing him, and Malvern Bump (Philip Baker Hall). All Good Things is, of course, a thinly-disguised look at the life, times and literal trials of Robert Durst, widely believed to have been responsible for the deaths and or disappearances of at least three people. Ryan Gosling [Fracture] and Kirsten Durst [Spider-Man 2] give very good performances, as do Rabe and Hall, and Frank Langella [Diary of a Mad Housewife] nearly walks off with the movie in one of his best roles. But while All Good Things holds the attention, it is also a bit obvious and stilted, and probably not as fascinating nor entertaining as true-crime shows that have focused on Durst, such as Dateline. Jumping back and forth in time only makes the picture confusing at times.

Verdict: Acceptable crime drama but nothing special. **1/2.

DIARY OF A MAD HOUSEWIFE

The not so happy couple arrive at a party

DIARY OF A MAD HOUSEWIFE (1970). Director: Frank Perry.

"Do you realize our party is only nine days away?" -- Jonathan

"Can't you do something about that godawful hair of yours?" -- ditto.

"I came here to get help with my very real and troubling problems. She has a husband, a lover, and an eight-room apartment on the park. Why does she need help?" -- woman at encounter group.

Tina Balser (Carrie Snodgress) is an unassertive Upper East Side housewife whose self-absorbed husband Jonathan (Richard Benjamin) treats her more like a child or servant than a beloved spouse. He is fixated more on social climbing than in fulfilling her needs. But Tina goes from the frying pan into the fire when she begins a supposedly for-sex-only affair with author George Prager (Frank Langella), who is condescending, epicene, and sexually ambiguous to boot. Tina's other problems include a horribly chauvinistic psychiatrist and her two little girls, one of whom, Sylvie (Lorraine Cullen), is rude and obnoxious beyond words. Snodgress gives an imperfect but mostly effective performance (albeit Oscar-nominated); Langella, who is quite good, seems to be channeling his inner Bette Davis at times; and Benjamin nearly walks off with the movie with his excellent, three-dimensional portrait of the not entirely unlikable Jonathan. Tina starts off as a drip but becomes more empowered as the movie progresses. As George, Langella radiates such a negative aura that it's a wonder Tina is attracted to him, but he is a famous writer and more sophisticated than her husband. Based on a novel by Sue Kaufman (with a screenplay by the director's then-wife, Eleanor Perry), Diary of a Mad Housewife is one of the few topical late sixties/early seventies films that still holds up today. It was also one of the first "modern-day" movies to present the problems of the comparatively wealthy, and there were many movies to follow about the sufferings of neglected upper east side and Hampton wives. The final scene set at an encounter group that Tina attends is hilarious. A party scene at the Balsers is also very funny. Well-directed by Perry.

Verdict: Very amusing and very entertaining. ***1/2.

DROPPED NAMES: FAMOUS MEN AND WOMEN AS I KNEW THEM

DROPPED NAMES: FAMOUS MEN AND WOMEN AS I KNEW THEM. Frank Langella. HarperCollins; 2012.

In this unconventional memoir, actor Frank Langella (Diary of a Mad Housewife; Dracula; Frost/Nixon) spares the reader the need to look up famous names in the index. Langella is smart enough to know that most people read autobiogs by second and third tier celebrities [well-known, but not superstars or household names] to see what they have to say about the mega-stars they worked with, so the book is divided into many chapters bearing the names of the famous and pretty famous. [Of course, it is also true that in a "memoir" of this nature you can avoid answering the hard questions about yourself.] In concise, well-written sections we read Langella's impressions of everyone from Bunny Mellon to Jackie Onassis to Paul Newman to Marilyn Monroe. Some of these chapters are especially well-done, such as the section on the lonely middle-aged Elizabeth Taylor [although Langella never really makes it clear why he didn't want to go on seeing her except that she "would eat him alive," which sounds like a cop out. If he no longer found her attractive, why not just say so?] You sometimes get the impression Langella only exists when he's in the company of celebrities [the wealthier, the better]; that the rest of the time he's folded up, maybe in one of those vinyl bags you put clothes in and hang in closets, in a state of suspended animation, waiting for the next party or the next invitation to the Mellon estate. While, as I've stated, this is an unconventional memoir, it's still a bit startling that Langella says virtually nothing of substance about his wife [wives? who can tell?] and children, and reading between the lines you also sense he's possibly being coy about his own sexuality [giving a supposedly "sophisticated" book a somewhat dated quality]. In the meantime, he "outs"  late author Dominick Dunne, among others. So while the book has its entertaining stretches and drops many, many names, it has the usual limitations of a work by a tiresomely self-absorbed "celebrity." Langella gives the last word, more or less, to super-rich Bunny Mellon: "Don't think so much about famous people," she told him. "They already think too much about themselves."

Verdict: Readable and generally well-written, but hardly essential. **1/2.

THE BOX

THE BOX (2009). Writer/director: Richard Kelly.

Loosely based on Richard Matheson's short story "Button, Button," this film at least has an intriguing premise: a man (Frank Langella) shows up at the home of a young couple (Cameron Diaz; James Marsden) and gives them a small box. If they push the button in the box, he tells them, they will receive one million dollars, but someone -- they don't know who -- will die. The moral dilemma, uncertainty and sheer strangeness of the situation carry the movie ... for a time. But despite some striking images and not bad acting, the picture is more like a bad dream than anything else -- it's impossible to tell if it's supposed to be taken seriously or not. Ultimately it's a waste of a great idea.

Verdict: Not much point in opening this box. **.

SUPERMAN RETURNS

SUPERMAN RETURNS (2006). Director: Bryan Singer.

Hearing reports that astronomers have discovered a planet that may be Krypton, Superman sets out to find it -- and doesn't return for five years. Which is understandably upsetting to Lois Lane, as he has left her with child. We never really find out why it took so long for the faster-than-light Man of Steel to return to Earth after discovering Krypton was -- as we all already new -- a shattered husk, but the real problem with the film is that it's lacklustre, disjointed, and slowwww. There are some good rescue scenes however, such as the business with the space shuttle and a tense scene when Lois, her son, and her boyfriend, Richard (James Marsden) are nearly drowned in a tight compartment. Brandon Routh is excellent as Superman, however, as is Kate Bosworth as Lois and Frank Langella as Perry White. Kevin Spacey sort of plays Luthor in the same quasi-camp mode as Gene Hackman before him -- has no one read the comics or seen the cartoons, where Luthor is a much more imposing presence? Parker Posey is even more irritating as Luthor's bimbo, Kitty. The plot has something to do with Luthor using kryptonian crystal technology to create a new continent, which will bring about the demise of everyone else on Earth. (There is no real sense of impending doom or even urgency to this.) The scene when a tough hood plays Heart and Soul with little Jason (the likable Tristan Lake Leabu) is charming, but in the wrong movie, but it does lead into a startling revelation. In trying to be all mythic, Singer (who did a better job on the X-Men films) forgot to be entertaining.

Verdict: Some magical moments, but overlong. **1/2.