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Not
Hot, Just Bothered FILM:
In the Cut (R)
DIRECTOR: Jane Campion
STARRING: Meg Ryan,
Mark Ruffalo
WHERE: Wide release
GRADE: C+
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| Frannie
Avery (Meg Ryan) and her half-sister, Pauline (Jennifer
Jason Leigh) talk about life, love and the pursuit of
sex in Jane Campion's thriller, In the Cut.
|
Most everyone who has taken
a creative writing class has heard a teacher pass along Anton
Chekhov's advice that if a gun is displayed early in a work
it must be used sometime before the story is concluded. Writer-director
Jane Campion and her co-writer, novelist Susanna Moore, mysteriously
refuse to follow that advice. Early in their current film, In
the Cut, their heroine is pointedly shown a gun, and for
the rest of this increasingly aggravating movie we keep waiting
for her to get hold of it and use it to defend herself against
a bad guy. But Campion and Moore are above Chekhov's advice
and rather distantly short of his artistry. The whole scene
with that initial gun, like a lot of other details in this disappointing
film, is entirely pointless.
In the Cut stars
Meg Ryan as Frannie Avery, a high school English teacher with
a Looking for Mr. Goodbar sensibility. Scenes that
repeatedly hearken to the love-at-first-sight meeting of Frannie's
parents emphasize that she's a yearning romantic and that
she's the damaged product of a broken home. Frannie wants
what she doesn't even believe in, a life that her parents
never had. She's the kind of woman who has approached 40 without
finding a relationship. Her boyfriends have never worked out
even though there have been plenty of them and the sex has
been early and often. Most recently Frannie has been dating
a medical intern (Kevin Bacon) who is either seriously disturbed
or so sleep-deprived he lacks good sense. It's no wonder that
she's dodging him. Maybe Frannie has her eye on Cornelius
Webb (Sharrieff Pugh), a hunk of an African-American student
in her creative writing class. She's been tutoring him after
school in a sleazy bar, and she can't be blind to the way
Cornelius looks at her. We get her sexual neediness underscored
and followed with exclamation points when she goes to the
bar restroom and spies on an episode of oral sex. That she
hides in the shadows to stare would fill volumes in the notebook
of the shrink she doesn't have.
Then all of the sudden Frannie
is inside a thriller. The woman who was murdered and dismembered
in her neighborhood turns out to be the woman Frannie watched
providing oral sex to a mystery man. That fact is asserted,
but it's never clear how such a connection could be established.
The man on the receiving end of the oral sex has a tattoo
on his wrist identical to the one on the wrist of the homicide
detective who shows up at Frannie's apartment to see if she
knows anything that might help him solve the case. Sgt. Giovanni
Malloy (Mark Ruffalo) thinks there's a serial killer on the
loose. He also instantly identifies Frannie as a woman he
can talk dirty to. He invites her out for a drink and in the
second sentence after placing their orders he begins to describe
in the most explicit detail what parts of his body he would
like to use to perform pleasing sexual acts on appropriate
parts of her body. Shortly later he does just what he's promised,
and Frannie is so amazed at his skill she has him tell her
exactly how he was taught by an older woman to use certain
parts of his body to perform pleasing sexual acts on appropriate
parts of her body. All this describing gets the policeman
and the school teacher so hot and bothered they start all
over again.
But, of course, we do have
to worry about that serial killer. Victims begin to stack
up, including Frannie's sad-sack half-sister Pauline (Jennifer
Jason Leigh) who lives above a lap-dance bar but doesn't seem
to work there. We don't know what Pauline does, except that
she seems to have even more sleazy sex than Frannie. But,
then, nothing in this film makes any sense. Since Malloy is
a very reasonable suspect for being the killer himself, we
have no idea why Frannie keeps welcoming him into her body.
We learn at the beginning that Frannie is working on a book
about slang, but we have no idea why this is relevant. Frannie
is fascinated with the work of a writer who posts poems on
the subway, but we can't unravel the purpose of this detail.
And so it goes. We finger
the killer early on because it can't be anybody else. And
otherwise the film is a mishmash of unconnected information.
This is a shame and a surprise. Campion has done excellent
work previously in The Piano and The Portrait of
a Lady. And Meg Ryan has never given a braver performance.
She's so good here, you could imagine an Oscar nomination
if the movie weren't such a mess. 
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