"Women in Film"

By Kyra Kirkwood

Bizarre. Sometimes shocking. But mostly just plain confusing.

"Women in Film" should be called "Women Talking To the Camera." Because that is all they do. I am not kidding. It’s a two-hour chat fest where the filmmakers hope we fall in love with these three women, feel their pain and form an emotional bond with them as we hear them reiterate their lives. Instead, I was left shaking my head, saying, "Now who is she talking about?" and "What’s up with the funky, talking-heads montage?"

Let’s set the stage. We’ve got three women, whose names you just don’t catch, played by three well-known actresses whose faces you’d know anywhere: Portia de Rossi of "Ally McBeal" fame, Beverly D’Angelo and Marianne Jean-Baptiste. All these women do is talk, by themselves, to a camera in a verbal letter-journal-confession type of one-sided conversation. The women are all connected to the film industry in some way: D’Angelo plays the big-time Hollywood producer, de Rossi is a masseuse aspiring to be a Hollywood somebody and Jean-Baptiste is a famous casting agent.

I would love to tell you the plot, but I’m still not so sure I figured it out myself. But let me try. The big-time casting agent just gave birth to a blind baby boy and her big-time producer-husband can’t hack it, so he snorts his paychecks and sleeps with everyone, including the wanna-be star and current masseuse, played by de Rossi. It’s accurate to categorize her character as either a snobby kleptomaniac who’s clueless about her own unimportance, or a schizophrenic stalker whose pastime includes hurling paperweights and violating people’s chakras. The psycho wants desperately to see Calliope, the shrink to the stars, who happens to be on the famous producer’s speed dial. This character, played brilliantly by D’Angelo, is a chain-smoking, pill-popping movie whore who experiences a nervous breakdown after she suffers a few loses.

In fact, D’Angelo is the shining light in this less-than-commendable film. She morphs from power bitch to hysterical child, all in two hours. We see her turn from beautiful to haggard, then back to lovely again as her mental status stabilizes. Just for the record books, I’m not sure any other actress could spew out the shocking, rated-X language and still manage to look rather noble, as does D’Angelo.

My advice: See it for the high caliber of acting, not the plot. "Women in Film" will delight some indie filmmakers, possibly some cinema students or fans of the actresses. But for those seeking a Saturday night video escape, skip this title. I still have a headache trying to figure it out.