Friday, May 17, 2002

Faith has recovered, but I caught a bit of her stomach virus yesterday. Spent it on my back watching much bad t.v. and an amazing movie, PANIC, written and directed by Henry Bromell, one of my favorite t.v. writers ever. (He wrote some great Northern Exposures and some great Homicides---not so weird to think about when you learn that David Chase, Mr. Sopranos guy himself, was one of the guiding hands behind Northern Exposure.) The film follows W.H. Macy as a middle-aged hit man who was brought into the business by his father, Donald I Am Still Sexy Sutherland, and has grown weary and heartsick from it. Spectacular cast--Tracey Ullman, John Ritter (giving another one of those fooled ya, I can act, performances), Neve Campbell, Barbara Bain, and a remarkable child actor, David Dorfman. Sutherland is a compelling monster, but if that were all there was to this movie, it wouldn't work. Macy is stuck because he has never been honest with anybody, and the tension is killing him, but if he is honest, everything falls apart. Gorgeously complex.


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