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! Mary firth Hurt id John ftronf in Head over Heels
Dnemher, 1979
I HI- Rosi. Marring Bette Mullet. Alan Bales
ami Frederic Forrest; written by Bill Kerin and
Ho (•oidman; direr ted try Mark Kvdell.
Midler as The Hose plays a late Sixties
superstar, hard-drinking, high-living, a
pathetic creature bulletlcd hv fame and
fortune, unable to cope with the pressures
of stardom and her own insecurities, a
loud-mouth who disguise's her fears with
trashy talk. But Midler c laims she’s not
placing JanisJoplin. Flapdoodle. I lie only
significant difference lietwcen |oplin and
the* Rose is that Midler (and the s< t ipt) are
occ asionally quite funny. But even her
< lollies are flashier rec real ions of |oplin's
feathers and furs; in fact. Midler’s clothes
offer one of few clues to the |>eriod of this
film (along with the light show pulsing Ik*-
hind her concerts and ** I he Rose *69
lour** emblazoned on the nose of her
plane). I he entire movie looks as if it were
filmed last week on a budget of
$103,000 — $100,000 for Midler s clothes
and $3 lot everything else.
I he exc eption to the generally muddled
tone is the concert footage: Midler's moves
and voic e are c apt tired w it h a c Icar eve and
,t keen ear: we leel the siren appeal, the
susc itation of getting up on a stage and
symbolic ally stroking several thousand
|>eoplc .it the same time. Almost as good as
being there.
I he weakest link is Alan Bates as Mid
ler's Machiavellian manager, a man so
nasty and exploitive it's impossible to
understand why or how they ever got to
gether. Fhcy shout at each other lot two
hours; she not only shouts at Bales, she
roars, throws liottles, gets drunk, sc rews
around, cries, sc reams and hollers It's
enough to wear a pool reviewer out. I here
are only twoot three quiet moments in the
film, played with net AWOI G I
c haiifieur (Forrest, who's excellent), a bea
con cd calm masc ulinity in the showbiz
madness. But Midler goes for tbc jugulai
most ol the time: nuance esc apes her (and
director Rvdell, not known for his sub-
tletv). As one unimpressed patron noted,
“it's just two hours waiting for her to Ol).'*
It's not surprising that the most effecting
moments are the understated ones: while
driving through her old neighborhood,
she sees her father and mother in the front
yard, and iiniii«.*cliatc*l\ hide's hciself f rom
them; when she finally faces her home
town audience, the Rose* returning trium
phant. she just stands in the applause* for a
moment, enjoying sweet — and brief —
revenge for her unapprec iated c hildhood.
The Hose w ill no doubt send hardcore
Midlct fans to anothei dimension of
ecstasy; it sends the rest of us home, to our
Joplin/Mendrix/Quic ksilver/Dead/Air
plane albums.
Judith Sims
Rt N\ I \c,. starring Michael Douglas and Susan
Anspach: writ ten and directed by Steven Stern.
The plethora of poorly conceived and
amateurishly executed movies to which
American film-goers have lieen subjec ted
lately has grown by one: if Hinky had pup
pies. Hunnmn would In* the runt of the lit
ter.
It's like this: Michael Andropolis
(Douglas) is a dropout from grad school,
jobs and a 14-year-old marriage to Janet
(Anspach), leaving all In-hind to do what
he really wants to do — run. And not just
from his hole in Manhattan to Janet's
house in Brooklyn, but in die Olympic s in
Montreal. F.ncouragement comes from
everywhere, including Janet’s new boy
friend Howard, a car dealer, who gives
Michael a job washing cars. Douglas pre-
pares for the Olympic pre-trials, but when
our hero trains, he doesn't sweat.
One of the pre-trial winners suffers a leg
fracture. Douglas makes the team, and the
rest of the film is devoted to: one. getting
his marriage hack together (we hear a lot
of “I love vou's"); and. two, running, w ith
manv slow motion scenes hac ked by the
most florid, rococo piano since Ronnie
Aldrich. Flic* composer, Andre Gagnon,
must Ik* deaf.
In Montreal Douglas encounters his
former coach, who reminds him and us
that Douglas once didn't try harci enough
during the Km Am Games and that if he’s
to prove he's a man. then he'd better finish
this race, first or last. In make all this fit the
se enarin, w riter Stern has Douglas drop
face clown into a pile of leaves, seemingly
out of the race with a dish Mated shoulder
(so |im McKay, the voice of the Olympics,
tells us). But. no. hours later he arises like
l.azarus and trudges into the Stadium,
collapsing into the arms of his waiting
compatriots, inc luding a smiling coac h
and an expressionless wife Janet. The
end? Huntiing never really lK*gan.
Zan Stewart
ORCHESTRA REHKARSAI., with Baldwin
Baas. (Kara C.olosimo; sc reenplay by Federico
Fellini and Hrunello Kondi; music by Nino
Rota; directed by Federico Fellini.
Through the lens of a TV camera (we
never see the crew), we see a 13th-century
oratory, a burial place of popes and
bishops, but )>est known for its fine acous
tics. An aged copyist gives us a brief history
of the place while he sets up the music on
the stands. The players Ire-gin to filter in,
speaking to the camera; they ramble pre
tentiously alNiut the merits of their own in
struments while disparaging the others.
Some musicians complain to the union rep
because they aren't being paid extra for
appearing on TV.
At last the conductor (Baldwin Baas), a
(»ei man guest artist, comes on to start the
rehearsal. It is little short of a fiasco. There
is no rapport between conductor and or
chestra, and his increased efforts to assert
control only serve to make matters worse*.
Finally the union rep calls a break. The
younger players complain bitterly about
wasting years in conservatories and call
their own instruments ridiculous. The old
copyist speaks with rapture about the days
when the orchestra had a permanent con
ductor, a taskmaster who would strike the
players' hands with his baton. I he con
ductor speaks idealistically of making
music, far removed from the practical
matters involved in running an orchestra.
In the meantime, the building is pericNli-
cally shaken by mysterious tremors...
Obviously, this short (72 minutes) fea
ture isn't intended to Ik* taken literally. Fel
lini has included just enough realistic de
tail here to suit his purpose. Just what that
pur pose may Ik* is open to debate: is the
orchestra a metaphor for mcnleri) Italy
heading towards fascism. Western civiliza
tion heading towards collapse, human en
deavor in general, or something else en
tirely? One can even lead into it the history
of Federico Fellini. Filmmaker. The first
half of the movie, with its deft depiction of
human follies, is strongly reminiscent of
the young humanist Fellini of/ VtteUom and
The White Sheik. The second half, in which
the conductor returns to finish the rehear
sal only to discover revolt and anarchy
running rampant, gives us the Fellini of
Satyrunn, where big gestures and iiicIcmI-
ramatic images are the rule and humanity
the exception. It is Fellini as Doom-Saver
of the Western World.
But don’t get me wrong: Orchestra He-
hearsal is delightful. This time, Fellini has
managed to keep proper artistic distance
from his material, so that the movie never
gets any bigger than the little parable it's
sup|M>sed to Ik*. He is aided immeasurably
by his large cast — a fine menagerie of
grotesques — and by the score of Nino
Rota (his last; he died in April), which, as
usual, is a perfect match for Fellini's inten
tions.
Witty and provocative, Orchestra He
hearsal is surely the most entertaining
movie* Fellini has made in years.
Sol Louis Siegel
Head OVI K HEF.I.S. starring John Heard,
Mary Belli Hun and Rrtei Kiegei I. written and
directed by Joan Muklin Silver from the Imm>k
('.hills Semes nt Winter by Ann Brattle
Endearing as |ohn He .ml is, his arsenal of
c utc smiles and “please love me" IcMiks < an t
save this movie. We re sup|Mised to accept
his undying, all-consuming passionate-
love for Hurt (who pluved the middle sis
ter, the whiner, til Intenors), and that's the
first problem; Hurt's Ok. if \ou like inch -
c isive neurotic s, but she's almut as sensuous
and provocative as Ralph Milder, and dres
sing her up like Annie Hall only under
lines Hurt's —and the film’s — short
comings. Heard (last seen as Re\. Dim-
mesdaie in TBS’ the Scarlet Letter) plays a
nonentity in a Inning government job. bis
inothei is crazy, his stepfathei is not sue h a
bad guy af ter all; his sistei is in love w it h a
putz, his best friend gets fired and moves
in with him. and Hurl, the woman of his
dieams, is married to anothei man — but
she c an’t dec ide whether to stay mat i ied or
not. That's the plot, those are the players,
and I couldn’t care less. I’ve Ik-c-ii assured
that this him “tested very well" on college
campuses across the country. Depressing
thought.
)oan Mic klin Nibei also directed Beturen
the I.tries, a meaningless scrap of counter-
cultural-journalisin trivia, and the well-
received Hester Street. With all the talented
and qualified women who could and
should Ik* diiectmg films, it's annoying that
some-one as clumsy and unimaginative as
Silver gets all this work.
Judtth Sims