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Acting doesn't save predictable 'End of Summer'
July 3, 1997
Web posted at: 11:05 a.m. EDT (1105 GMT)From Reviewer Paul Tatara
(CNN) -- Get ready: I'm about to produce further evidence that there's something desperately wrong with me by comparing heavy metal music with the films of Ismail Merchant and James Ivory. I've been driven to this comparison by my recent viewing of "End of Summer," a plodding Merchant-Ivory wannabe that stars Jacqueline Bisset, Peter Weller, Julian Sands and Amy Locane.
When I worked at a record store in the mid-1980s, I became fascinated with an overtly foolish, though hugely popular, strain of heavy metal music. This fascination arose not because I enjoyed the stuff (give me a break), but because the criteria the general public used for determining which songs were "good" was so bizarre.
Basically, what it came down to was this -- if all the cliches were lined up and properly marched out, the song was a winner. It didn't matter how inane, sexist, or downright adolescent the record was, even free-thinking adults would shell out for the pleasure of hearing it again and again. That is, when they weren't watching it eight times a night on MTV.
As beautifully executed as most of them are, Merchant-Ivory films work pretty much the same way. As long as it's the turn of the century, there's a magnificent house, everyone's rich, and someone's signifying a love jones, you've got a movie. With Merchant-Ivory, great performances save the day nine times out of 10, but "End of Summer" isn't so lucky. The only decent performance is from Peter Weller, whose half handsome, half screaming skull features normally give me the creeps.
The rest of the cast wanders around like they've been kidnapped, wrestled into period costumes and thrown in front of the camera. The usually serviceable Julian Sands is as bad as I've ever seen him (his American accent makes him sound like he's speaking phonetically), and Locane couldn't act her way out of a parking ticket. Given the depth of her performance, I'd be proud if she were just able to park.
The story, as I've pointed out, is the same story you always get with this kind of movie. Bisset plays Christine, a rich (big shock) almost old maid who is spending her summer in Saratoga, New York, in 1897 (that would be the turn of the century.) I know you won't believe this, but she's staying in a beautiful old house with a lot of other rich people.
The men smoke pipes and talk about the railroad a lot. Weller's character, an old beau, also happens to be there. Christine develops a love jones for him. Then the toothy, round-faced Locane shows up, playing either a hedonistic young woman or the world's sexiest chipmunk. Considering the way she carries herself, she must have an alien-built television set that picks up future episodes of "Models Inc."
It takes no work at all to figure out that Locane's tootsie is going to put the moves on Weller, thus throwing Bisset into emotional withdrawal before she even gets to touch the guy. Just to make sure that all the other elements are in place, there's also a ballroom dancing scene, archery, a conniving older woman who gossips endlessly, and "A letter from father! I must return to the city immediately!" You don't think someone rich is gonna die, do you? Of course you do.
The movie is directed and co-written (with Jonathan Platnick) by Laura Yellen, which is ironic considering how many times I had to stop myself from yellin' at the screen. I can't fault a production for not having a huge budget, but these movies need to look lavish enough for you to forgive the stilted subject matter. This one's production design is decidedly second-rung, with a lot of the opulence being more imagined than observed.
It could have been filmed in the Taj Mahal, though, and still would have floundered. Yellen just doesn't have the chops. There's no sweep to her visuals; she tries instead to periodically insert grandeur: odd little shots that suddenly slide into slow-motion appear at the most unlikely times and accomplish absolutely nothing. The same can't be said for the heaving-bosom, soft-core sex scenes between Locane and Weller, which could cause things that normally occur while watching movies starring implant models named Tiffany.
Unlike "Howard's End," a bookcase doesn't fall on anybody to end the movie. Personally, I'd have a tough time deciding which character needs to be squished.
"End of Summer" contains nudity, a couple of oddly excessive sex scenes, and a big ol' house full of people wearing uncomfortable clothes. Originally shown on the Showtime cable network, it's not rated ... though it would certainly receive an R. 95 minutes.
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