Not a whole lot in this week’s issue to get excited about. Richard Brody reviews an old movie, Pretty Poison, that I recall seeing when it first came out in 1968. I can’t remember a thing about it, other than that Pauline Kael liked it, and that’s probably why I went to see it. Brody likes it, too, calling it “a hectic pastiche that takes off from Psycho and grafts tropes from spy thrillers, teen romances, domestic melodramas, and police procedurals onto the highly textured realism of life in a small New England town, complete with its narrow-minded moralism.” I might give it a second look, although that "pastiche" isn't exactly enticing.
There’s a line in Anthony Lane’s review of Fernando León de Aranoa’s The Good Boss that made me laugh. The film stars Javier Bardem. Lane says,
Think of the parts that Bardem played last year—the expansive Desi Arnaz, lording it over a broadcasting fiefdom in “Being the Ricardos,” and the sapphire-eyed chief of the Frenemy tribe, or whatever it was called, in “Dune.” Bardem has confessed that, in the sequel to the latter, he would very much like to ride a giant sandworm. Wouldn’t we all?
Best sentence in this week’s issue also belongs to Lane: “His hand alone is enough to fill a room, and my favorite shot shows his wandering finger, as big as a canoe, brushing against the keyboard of a laptop, which, with a soft pdoing, powers up” (“What You Wish For”).
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