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Screen transplant of a Sam Shepard stage play: an interminable tease about something that happened in the long-buried past, something to do with a horse-racing scam, something criminal, something "pornographic," something documented in a heavily taped-up shoebox. Untasty tidbits of it are doled out in flashback, with younger actors so mismatched to the present-day roster (Jeff Bridges, Nick Nolte, Sharon Stone) that you could never guess any of their identities if one of the three, at least, were not a woman. The other exception, of course, is portly Albert Finney, who appears in both time zones, with blacker and grayer hair for contrast. It is he who gets to utter the line that beats the discriminating moviegoer to the punch: "I don't give two shits about these festering souls and all their dirty laundry." Directed by Matthew Warchus. 1999.
Reader Rating:
MPAA Rating: R
