'Evening Star' fails to shine

January 16, 1997
Web posted at: 6:50 p.m. EST

From Movie Reviewer Paul Tatara

"The Evening Star," starring, for the most part, Shirley MacLaine, is a thoroughly unnecessary ("long awaited" if you ask a studio executive) sequel to "Terms of Endearment." I suppose "Terms of Endearment II" would have looked a little tacky on a marquee, although, considering the content of this script, "Terms of Endearment All Over Again" would have worked just fine. Too bad "The Never Ending Story" was already taken.

With a plot that plays like water running through a circulating pool filter, "The Evening Star" is just about as repetitious a movie as you'll ever see. That's not to say that there aren't a few funny moments, but with this kind of talent onboard, how could all of it miss?

The large supporting cast includes Jack Nicholson for a couple of unexciting minutes, Bill Paxton, Marion Ross, Juliette Lewis (not nearly as annoying as she usually is), and Miranda Richardson, one of the best actresses in the world and a person who really should have known better. But the real attraction is, of course, Shirley MacLaine as Aurora Greenway, a character so snarly, self-absorbed, and grating, it's a wonder she can make it through a full day without being put into a headlock.

I liked "Terms of Endearment" just fine, thank you very much, but I've never understood why people were so drawn to MacLaine in this role. In case audience members aren't getting enough of it at the office (or, who knows, maybe even at home) Aurora snaps at anyone who possesses an opinion even slightly contrary to her own. She does this so often, in fact, it seems to be her very reason to exist ... that is, until she gets misty-eyed and starts simpering like a walking Hallmark greeting card.

And that's pretty much the m.o. for this entire movie. The basic plot, if you can call it that, is that Aurora has decided she's never met "the love of her life." Never mind that that is exactly what she was supposed to have accomplished in the first movie when she hooked up with Nicholson's astronaut. Aurora is searching again. Of course, never minding the first movie is nearly impossible, considering how many times screenwriter/director Robert Harling goes out of his way to remind us of what we were watching 14 years ago.

Debra Winger's character, you may recall, is no longer with us, but that doesn't mean she won't be showing up during the course of this movie. Aurora has decided to put together scrapbooks tracing the arc of her life, so this means that about every 15 minutes or so we get to see MacLaine sitting on her bed smiling benignly at photos of Debra graduating from college, Debra posing with her kids, etc. This is accompanied by an annoying score that wavers uneasily between George Winston-style New Age noodlings and the kind of faux jaunty stuff that you could imagine a self-conscious leprechaun getting down to.

There are several sub-plots along the way, some of them so-so interesting and some of them pretty much pointless. Selfish men screwing over loyal women is something of a theme in both movies, and this kind of thing couldn't be presented any more obviously than it is in the adventures of Juliette Lewis and her would-be underwear model boyfriend. Lewis plays the now-grown daughter of Debra Winger's character, who was raised by Aurora after her mother's untimely death (let's go look at the scrapbooks again). Lewis and MacLaine jump down each other's throats so many times they should be wielding tongue suppressers.

The same goes for the relationship between MacLaine and Richardson. Richardson, as Winger's best friend, has a steely/soft sensuality about her, and she nicely handles the two-faced quality of a beautiful Texas divorcee who is unwilling to admit that she's getting older ... even if her Southern accent leaves something to be desired. Her screaming match with MacLaine (there's a change of pace) on a commercial airline flight is one of the better moments in the film.

A lot of time is spent on the sexual relationship between MacLaine and her much younger therapist, played by Bill Paxton. Paxton is a genial actor almost to a fault, but he more than holds his own during his debates with MacLaine. This should come as no surprise considering the huge amounts of wind he was able to handle in "Twister." The therapist, of course, ends up screwing over the ever-loyal Aurora. Surprise!

And I haven't even gotten to the death scenes yet. Evidently, the producers felt that if one dead character can win you a Best Picture Oscar in 1983, then characters virtually dropping like flies ought to do the job in the more super-charged '90s. They are wrong. It kind of makes sense though -- if it weren't for making scrapbooks and watching people die, Aurora would never shut up.

Near the end of the film, a graphic popped up on the screen reading "one year later," and, let me tell you, I fully believed it. Luckily, when I stepped out of the theater, it was still 1997.

© 1997 Cable News Network, Inc.
All Rights Reserved.

Terms under which this service is provided to you.