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