Word: beresfords
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...also know that we are in for a very long day's journey on writer-director Bruce Beresford's endlessly predictable Paradise Road. Do we know that the ship carrying the women and children to safety as Singapore surrenders will be sunk, Red Cross markings or not? Can we predict that the well-spoken Japanese officer some of the survivors meet when they stumble ashore on Sumatra will turn out to be a sadist? When the commandant of the camp where they're interned appears, are we not instantly certain he studied penology with Colonel Saito over on the River...
...assured that this all really happened. Survivors have imparted their memories to Beresford. The vocal arrangements they made still exist and are used in the movie. But in shaping their tale for the screen, shouldn't he have honored their courage--and, yes, inventiveness--with something other than cliches...
...colonial swells party on, unconcerned. They don't know that disaster looms. But we do; this is the same familiar war-movie territory we've seen in countless other films. "We also know that we are in for a very long day?s journey on writer-director Bruce Beresford?s endlessly predictable 'Paradise Road,'" says TIME's Richard Schickel. "Do we know that the ship carrying the women and children to safety as Singapore surrenders to the Japanese will be sunk, Red Cross markings or not? Can we predict that the well-spoken Japanese officer some of the survivors meet...
Sharon Stone is the latest entrant in the Streepstakes; she plays a death-row inmate in Bruce Beresford's Last Dance. In vain would we tell her that the world has a surfeit of good actresses but damn few movie stars and that she is one of the rare modern avatars of the grand old radiance. Acting is easy, glamour is hard. But Stone wants more than to make sin chic. To increase her stature, she must diminish her luster. And so she has chosen the sort of caged-woman melodrama--but with a message--that, when Susan Hayward tried...
...here they were on a fine October morning in Winterset, Iowa-cloudless sky, heatless sun, a soft breeze rustling leaves that had turned to perfectly photogenic reds and golds. Beresford was gone; Streep was present; Eastwood was directing as well as co-starring; the script was finally right and so was today's pretty location, through which an aged Francesca was supposed to wander distraught (she has just learned that her long-ago three-day lover has died). As Eastwood ambled over to discuss the day's first shot with his longtime cinematographer, Jack Green, he was heard to murmur...