Anyway, the first was called Intimate Relations, the (true) tragicomic story of a bizarre love triangle set in 1950s England, with Julie "Educating Rita" Walters and Rupert "Howards End" Graves (he's sort of interchangeable with Rufus Sewell -- they're the Dermot Mulroney/Dylan McDermott of Britain). Graves plays a young, handsome lodger taken in by lonely Walters -- they quickly embark on an affair (Hollywood execs, take note: older woman and younger man, yes, it can be done!) complicated by Walters' older, crippled husband and her curious, jealous daughter. To the film's credit, no one is a complete villain or victim -- Walters' combination of Mrs. Robinson and Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction is mitigated by the revelation of her intense loneliness; Graves' good intentions are hamstrung by his weak will.
The film starts out with an appealing, jauntily twisted, black comedy air -- this is definitely the kind of flick that gives Bob Dole heartburn -- but it takes a jarring turn toward tragedy in the second half, and that's when it starts to run out of steam. The ending is downright horrific, which doesn't exactly send you out the theater humming along to the bouncy Rosemary Clooney standards that pop up throughout the movie.
So I figured, nothing warms my heart like watching Michael Douglas get the shit kicked out of him for two hours. Hence, The Game. Disappointingly, he doesn't really get the shit kicked out of him, but he's terrorized for a while, and that's good enough for me. Actually, the movie was way long, and I got kind of bored. It's an interesting concept, but it's not carried out very well. Also, I was disappointed that it didn't have the innovative visuals of David Fincher's other movies. And I felt cheated by the ending (if you saw it, you'll know why) though I think if it had been any other actor than Michael Douglas, I would have liked it.
Oh, and one last rant: why even bother paying the salaries of real actors like Sean Penn and Armin Mueller-Stahl if you're not going to let them do anything? To avoid outshining Michael Douglas, Mueller-Stahl speaks his lines in a mumbling monotone. There's really no way to keep Sean Penn from outacting Douglas, so they just put him on screen for as little time as possible.
Did I mention I can't stand Michael Douglas?
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