Sunday, January 1 1995
What is most distressing about 'Swordfish' is John Travolta. More and more, Travolta is becoming a caricature of himself as action anti/hero.
Instead, 'Someone Like You' follows formula, which means that Jane will realize her folly and realize that Eddie is really the guy for her (this is telegraphed when the pretty couple shares their feelings and eats Chinese food while seated on the kitchen counter and dressed in their fashionable underwear).
Intrigue, deception, display, betrayal. All this is what it is, typical action flick sex-play, foreplay for the big explosion or something equally prosaic.
'Someone Like You''s press kit describes Eddie and Jane as a 'Hepburn and Tracy of the modern era', but its undercurrent of painful loss and compulsive grief avoidance is precisely missing from movies like 'Desk Set' and 'Adam's Rib'.
I imagine that at the 'real' Moulin Rouge, the thrill wasn't just a bit of nipple and a flash of panties, but the whole entertainment package, which no doubt included exuberant 'daring' new music intended to shock and titillate the sensitivity of the bourgeoisie -- kind of like rock-and-roll or punk in our times.
She's the perfect drag queen, embodying the ruthless paradox of entertainment. She is the show that must go on and cannot.