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The worst kind of movie, really. Not good or likeable, and yet not bad in any interesting way. If I were to define cinematic idempotency- a movie that makes absolutely no impression on the viewer- I guess I would use "Primary Colors" to do so.

The film's meant to be a satire of presidential politics and yet it so closely shadows actual events that what happens is never exciting, arousing, or new. Maybe that'd be OK if some of the characters were compelling but none of them are. Blame it on the book, then, I guess. Joe Klein didn't develop characters there so much as founts for his own wisdom, why is why everyone here seems to talk the same way. Everyone, that is, except Libby, who talks the same way but with more exclamation points and expletives than any other character. I'm glad Oscar did not see fit to award her screechy, wheel-spinning performance with a statuette. That's two (along with Best Picture) it really got right this year.

What could the producers of this film been thinking? That if they took an Ann Rice s&m novel, overlaid a crime thriller plot on top of it, and then cast comedic performers in the role of the police that it would add up to a movie greater than the sum of its parts? This smorgasbord of genres does end up being more than the sum of its parts, but going in the direction of greatly awful instead of greatly good.

What makes matters worse is all the talent that's wasted here, including Dan Ackroyd and the two charismatic leads, Dana Delany and Paul Mercurio. I sometimes think that for all their wealth, fame, and glamor, actors really do have the worst lives. During the film-making process they must trust to the judgment of their director and hope that everything they do (no matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing) is for a good purpose. Sadly here, Delaney and Mercurio's faith in their director, Garry Marshall, is badly misplaced. The two have to bare a lot of flesh before this movie is through (poor Dana even goes full frontal in one scene) and all for what? Performances that are potential career killers? Stars on the scale of Ackroyd can survive a flop even as bad as this and Marshall, after the success of "Runaway Bride", is sure to be around for a while. But Dana Delany has gone on to do nothing substantial since and Paul Mercurio (who recently "starred" in "The First 9 1/2 Weeks") looks to be entering soft-core limbo. What a waste.

Say what you will about "Heavy Metal". It's uneven, eclectic, and very geeky, mixing sci-fi/fantasy with an erotic sensibility retarded even by the standards of your typical teenage boy.

Having said that, I must also admit I find this movie immensely entertaining. The soundtrack is superb and though a few of the episodes are light, they serve their purpose within the context of the film, providing comic relief for some of the darker material that follows. My favorite episodes are "Den", a light-hearted romp which could also be viewed as a satyrization of the film's target audience, "Taarna", the film's redemptive conclusion, and "B-17", my personal favorite. In addition to having one of the film's best songs ("Heavy Metal" by Don Felder) it also manages to be genuinely disturbing, posing for us the problem of evil and, for a brief moment, almost raising this film to the level of art.

The only reason I'm even commenting on this piece of rubbish is that it's the only film I've ever walked out on. 30 minutes of watching this attempt to stretch a clever segueway commercial into a film was enough. Inauspicious beginning, MTV Films!

I went in hoping that all the good things I had heard about this movie were justified. Unfortunately, they weren't. Though "Dream Life of Angels" has an interesting premise and starts out promisingly enough, bad pacing and a meandering plot ultimately sinks it as a film.

The problem is not that nothing happens in it. Not all that much happens in "Bicycle Thief" either, but the latter film is a masterpiece because the individual scenes in it add up to something much greater than themselves. The scenes of "Dream Life", however, have no such coherence. Lasting only a few minutes each, their arrangement seems arbitrary, as little plot or character development occur in any of them. This soon begins to wear on the viewer, and halfway into the film I was already beginning to feel the back of my seat.

Not helping matters either is the unimaginative way with which the story (what little of it there is) is told. Marie's seduction and abandonment by Chris, a callous, young club-owner, is shown without much originality, spark or pathos. Perhaps if music had been used some of these weaknesses could have been hidden. But none comes till the end, at which point it seems incongruous. One may admire "Dream Life's" attempt to make art from the bleak lives of two young women, but that does not make it a great, or really even a good, film.

Actually, this is Monty Python's only film in the sense that it, unlike "Holy Grail" and "Meaning of Life", has a continuous story and persistent characters. What also raises this film above the afore-mentioned two is its brilliant (and quite wicked) humor. The scene where Brian paints anti-Roman slogans on a wall and ends up getting an impromptu Latin lesson (at the point of a sword, no less!) is, well, what can I say, a moment of comedic genius.