xXx: Return of Xander Cage
The last forty minutes of the movie do come together in a pretty diverting way.
Here's a strange case. "Hotel" is a movie that works in no conventional sense, and succeeds in several unconventional ones. Most audiences will find it baffling and unsatisfactory. Those who are open to its flywheel peculiarities may find it bold, funny, peculiar and delightful. The director is Mike Figgis, whose conventional thriller "Cold Creek Manor" opened last week. I would a hundred times rather see "Hotel." The movie is told like three stories running in a circle, snapping at each others' tails. One story involves a self-important movie director named Trent Stoken (Rhys Ifans), who is in Venice shooting a version of John Webster's The Duchess of Malfi in the Dogma style. The second involves a documentary crew led by Charlee Boux (Salma Hayek) that is making one of those "making of" films about the production. The third involves the workings of the hotel itself, which is run by and for cannibal vampires. All of this is much in the spirit of Webster, Shakespeare's contemporary, whose plays drip-ped with violence, melodrama, conspiracy and sexual intrigue.
Figgis is a bold experimenter whose films often leave conventional pathways to achieve their effect. His "Leaving Las Vegas" (1995) was shot on Super 16mm so that the cast and crew could work quickly on locations without clearances or permits. His "Timecode" (2000) was shot on digital video that used a four-way split screen to tell the story with four simultaneous and unbroken shots (Aleksandr Sokurov's "Russian Ark" had only one 90-minute take). In "Hotel," made in 2001 but just now receiving a U.S. release, Figgis shows the film-within-a-film on digital video, goes outside it with conventional celluloid, and sometimes presents the same scene with messy location sound and then polished post-production sound.
Now imagine all this stylistic freedom with an all-star cast of actors invited to play broadly, wryly, erotically. There is a feud between the Ifans character and his producer (David Schwimmer), and a stunning moment when the director is shot, only to linger in a long, eyes-open coma that inspires an extraordinary erotic monologue by his nurse (Chiara Mastroianni). Saffron Burrows plays the Duchess of Malfi and is involved first with Ifans, then with Schwimmer.
Familiar faces are everywhere: Lucy Liu as an instinctive enemy of Hayek; Danny Huston as the helpful, sinister hotel clerk; Julian Sands as the tour guide, whose explanations of Venice and the Webster play provide a road map; Valeria Golino as another of the actresses, and Burt Reynolds, who convincingly occupies what seems to be a completely superfluous role. Used most oddly of all is John Malkovich, in an opening sequence where he is taken down into the catacombs of the hotel and participates in a formal feast where, it becomes clear, the main dish is human flesh. Malkovich's seat at the table, ominously, is behind bars separating it from the others.
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