THOUGHTS ON THE MOAN MOVIE'S MOANER
I’ve just had the rather unsettling experience of having sat through an HBO sponsored double-feature of Wes Craven's last two cinematic outings -- Red Eye and Cursed -- and as a direct result I've just come to a realization that it is definitely going to take me three to four paragraphs to completely explain. First of all, I'd like to say or rather write out for public consumption the simple fact that there are not now nor have there ever been a landfill-sized shit-load of Hollywood-based ingénues about whom one could honestly say: “I could literally watch that woman do anything, in anything, for however long the reels take to run the fuck out” but that Christina Ricci clearly belongs on that unquestionably short list.
"Whatever female-based, emotion-driven dilemma you may be dealing with right now, you have my sympathy. But right now, we need to break this down into male-based, fact-driven logic."-- Red Eye
"I'm feeling pain, Pumpkin, for the first time in my life. And now I know how it feels. It feels like everything inside me is shattered, like a broken mirror."
-- Pumpkin
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not here to suggest that Ms. Ricci’s slicked black turn in the utter waste of 99 minutes of my life that was Wes Craven's “Cursed” was one of those for the record books kind of performances, but I am prepared to go on record with the statement that despite being surrounded by excrement on all sides, Ricci managed to carve a real live character out of screenplay that called for her to be believably flipped-off by an neurotic werewolf (well, she-wolf to be precise) after having insulted the jealous lycanthrope’s skinny ass an chunky thighs.
To sum up for the moment, there just plain doesn’t seem to be any freaking lying in the woman.
TO BE CON'T . . .
