Word: malls
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Marketing experts may wonder why Denver's Cherry Creek mall is so flush. Generating nearly $400 per sq. ft. in annual sales, it is one of the most profitable shopping centers in America. Could it be the free valet parking for the handicapped, or the swanky Neiman-Marcus store with its $100,000 furs? Guess again, folks! Local shoppers know: it's the mall's bathrooms...
When Johnny comes marching home, will the rest of us celebrate by tramping off to the mall or auto showroom? Business-people and investors across America are pondering that question, trying to balance widespread forecasts of at least one more recessionary quarter against the euphoria of a swift battlefield victory. Does peace mean prosperity? If the gulf war didn't start this recession, what role will Kuwait's liberation play in ending...
Prickly as porcupines, Deborah and Nick Fifer (Bette Midler and Woody Allen) wander the aisles of a shopping mall that probably exceeds Ralph's palace in square footage, confessing infidelities and trying to patch up a marriage that only this morning looked as solid as the British monarchy. They are constantly distracted by the consumerism bustling around them and by a mime (Bill Irwin) who is as nosy as he is silent and maybe the most amusing thing about the film...
Both King Ralph (written and directed by David Ward) and Scenes from a Mall (directed by Paul Mazursky from a screenplay he wrote with Roger Simon) offer their stars the kind of discombobulating contexts their well-established characters need to function funnily. But curiously enough, it is the film with the more outrageously improbable premise that works best. As the man who wouldn't be King if he could help it, Goodman redeems what might have been just another high-concept comedy for the party of humanity. Despite the fact that they are working a much more subtle idea...
...denounced it as immoral. Perhaps that explains why I had in the past approached the Vietnam Memorial with trepidation, feeling I was intruding upon the grief of others. But on the first weekend of the air war against Iraq, I found myself impelled toward these sunken slabs on the Mall, as if this were the proper moment to seek communion with the wall of names. My thoughts jumbled as I stood there: schoolboy patriotism, the waste of war, the sands of time. Finally, I murmured, "I hope we have learned the right lessons from Vietnam. I hope I have...