STN Entertainment
'Beavis And Buff-head Do America' Ridicule'
funny. In Do America, they leave
Highland for T ns Vegas in search
of money to replace their stolen
TV. Promised $10,000 by a hard-
drinking, love-sick gun runner
named Muddy to "do" his wife,
their limited lexicon leads them
comes tiresome, check out the
soundtrack. The Red Hot Chili
Peppers, No Doubt and On the
Skids help out with cool songs
that don't suck, and Isaac Hayes
steals the show with a
"Shaft"/Beavis and Butt-head re-
nyone who rates more than
a bagel on the hipness me-
ter knows that Beavis and
utt-head are the two peren-
nial pubescent "dorks" who can
be seen late night on MTV
after a truly frightening
show called "Singled Out."
Known for a lack of read-
ing skills and low tolerance
for toilet words, they have
bisected suburban Amer-
ican culture into two dis-
tinct categories — "cool"
and "sucks."
Now they have par-
layed a half-hour cable
show and a monstrous
merchandising campaign
into a feature-length movie
that will thrill their fans
and continue to irritate
parents.
Why? Well it has some-
thing to do with what cre-
ator/director Mike Judge
calls "crude realism." As
far as we can tell, crude The boys have gotten off the couch and headed for Hollywood.
realism means multiple
body cavity searches, a high to believe that they will finally make.
Parents of teen-agers should
blood-sugar problem that leads "score."
know that the movie is a
Muddy's wife turns the
to a multiple personality condi-
few degrees more repug-
tables
on
the
boys,
and
a
tion known as Cornholio Disor-
MOVIES
nant than the TV show.
der, and clever geographic double cross-country chase fol-
If
you think Beavis and
lows.
After
the
government
entendres like Bald Knob, Peck
mistakes the duo for terrorists Butt-head are juvenile boorish
Butte and Weippe.
Their first big-screen effort is and declares them "the most dan- cretins, stay away. For the rest of
crude, hardly realistic but very gerous men in America," the you dorks — come to Butt-head.
chase ends in Washington, D.C.,
Joel Sklar has a master's degree
where justice prevails and the
in psychology and Michael Drew
boys prevent a national biologi-
is pursuing his doctorate in
— Joel Sklar and
cal disaster.
history. Both are attorneys.
Michael Drew
When the bathroom humor be-
AB
loid writers Frank Quinlan he doesn't perform many mira-
(William Hurt) and Huey cles (he says angels "can't
Driscoll (Robert Pastorelli — El- change the nature of the world.
din on "Murphy Brown") head Small miracles only, and only so
out to Stubbs, Iowa, to meet many").
So why is he here, and why is
Michael, he's living with finan-
cially troubled motel owner Pan- he going to Chicago to have his
sy Milbank (Jean Stapleton in a picture taken for the National
Mirror? Well, he has a
fine supporting role),
mission that he won't
whose prayers he an-
MOVIES
disclose (hint: His fa-
/ swered by making the
vorite song is the Beatles'
First Iowa Bank of Com-
merce collapse like a house of "All You Need is Love"), plus, he
cards. "He smote a bank for me," wants to see as much of Earth
as he can because he cryptical-
Pansy declares proudly.
Soon Michael, Frank, Huey
and "angel expert" Dorothy Win-
ters (Andie MacDowell) are dri-
ving back to the Windy City
with Michael for a publicity
blitz.
Along the way, not much is re-
vealed about heaven or the me-
chanics of the afterlife ("It's not
my area," is Michael's usual re-
s onse to such questions), and
ly states this is his last visit.
The cast is uniformly fine
(Bob Hoskins as Frank and
Huey's editor and Tern Garr as
a judge also have small roles),
and the film is sweet without be-
ing cloying. It doesn't even make
a big deal of its Christmas set-
ting, paradoxically making it an
enjoyable holiday movie.
C)
— Stephen Bitsoli
Bagel Barometer
VV V®
sO)
tO)
tO
Outstanding
Very Good
Good
Fair
Rated R
A
lthough there is much that
is amusing in Ridicule, the
latest film from director
Patrice Leconte (Monsieur
Hire, The Hairdresser's Hus-
band), it is not a comedy. Biting,
mean-spirited wit (not humor) is
the subject; and influence in the
decadent pre-French Revolution
ter breathing gear. She disdains
life at court and worries that Pon-
celudon is becoming seduced by
it.
And she may be right. He be-
comes the countess' lover, at least
in part because she may lead him
to the king. And he challenges a
social inferior to a duel for daring
to insult him. (Mathilde in turn
is engaged to marry a much old-
0 BY CHATHERINE CABRO L
PG-13
CL
Charles Berling
and Judith
Godreche in
Patrice Leconte's
Ridicule.
court of Louis XVI is the object.
And here, quips have conse-
quences.
It's 1783, and Ponceludon
(Charles Berling), an earnest but
naive engineer, has come to Ver-
sailles to petition the king's aid
for an expensive waterworks pro-
ject.
But with no connections, he
has no hope of getting a hearing,
until the Marquis de Bellegarde
(Jean Rochefort) teaches him that
the key to success at court is wit:
the clever remark, the perfectly
phrased putdown, the verbal ri-
poste.
Soon Ponceludon is dropping
bon mots with the best of them,
and his epigrams are on every-
one's lips. This leads to enmity
with the aptly named Vilecourt
(Bernard Giradeau), and a love-
hate relationship with the wid-
owed Countess de Blayac (Fanny
Ardant).
Ponceludon also develops a re-
lationship with the Marquis'
daughter, Mathilde (Judith Go-
dreche), an inquisitive young lady
who experiments with underwa-
Stephen Bitsoli is the former
entertainment editor for Detroit
Monthly magazine.
er man — whose first wife isn't
quite dead yet — for reasons of
financial security.)
The story continues gripping-
ly toward a final showdown at a
masked ball. Does our hero get
the girl? Does he reach the king?
Does he drain the swamp? Most
(but not all) is revealed in a post-
script, following the revolution.
Of the excellent cast, Jean
Rochefort stands out as the ag-
ing Marquis, whose own wits
have slowed so much that he can
only keep records of the witti-
cisms of others.
Also of note is the screenplay
by newcomer Remi Waterhouse.
The script is layered with minor
characters who suddenly take
center stage. One such is a deaf-
mute boy, removed from Belle-
garde's estate and sent to a
special school. He makes a sur-
prising return at court, now flu-
ent enough in signing that he can
make (nontranslatable) wordplay
in gesture. The joy he takes in
this is a welcome reminder that
not all wit is mean.
‘®' 1/2
— Stephen Bitsoli