Heads up: Another reluctant bride is on the loose. The species has been a staple of romantic comedy since Claudette Colbert's dash for daylight at the start of the classic It Happened One Night (1934), where she ran into the arms of grumpy newspaperman Clark Gable, with whom she bickered up until the final reel. Now Julia Roberts alights on this well-worn path in the amiable Runaway Bride, a thoroughly conventional comedy that satisfies despite lacking the true wit that distinguished Not-ting Hill, Roberts's early summer duet with Hugh Grant. Roberts plays a bride who bolts not just once, but thrice, with Gere as the cynical Manhattan newspaperman who heads down to the small Maryland town where Roberts runs a hardware store to investigate why, in the words of another reporter, she is "always a bride, never a bridesmaid."
If you know anything about the rules of romantic comedy, you know that it will be dislike at first sight for Gere and Roberts, but that, over time, the thin line between love and hate will definitely be crossed. The movie, which marks the first re-teaming of these two stars and director Garry Marshall since Pretty Woman (1990), doesn't disappoint. But neither does it rise above the expected, save for a sassy touch here and there (Gere whistling the theme song from TV's The Andy Griffith Show while ambling down the tiny burg's main street; a joke about FedEx late in the movie). Runaway Bride is rather like the impressive bubble that Roberts nervously blows with her pink chewing gum just prior to making her penultimate trip to the altar: a sugary confection filled with air that can't stand up to too much poking.
Roberts, all grown up since her gangly Pretty Woman days but lovelier than ever, shows the surer comic touch here, while Gere gets by looking equal parts soulful and rueful. Able support is provided by Cusack as Roberts's wary pal, Paul Dooley as her alcoholic dad, Christopher Meloni as fiancé No. 4 and Wilson as Gere's ex-wife. (PG)
Bottom Line: You go, girl
Thomas Jane, Saffron Burrows, Samuel L. Jackson, LL Cool J
"You know how sometimes a single night can seem like a week?" asks a character in Deep Blue Sea. You betcha, bud. It's precisely the sensation you get while watching this soggy chomp-and-chew action thriller, which tries to prove, nearly a quarter century Jaws (1975), that sharks are still scary.
When it comes to successfully snacking on human prey, the macho mako sharks in Deep have two big advantages over their Jaws predecessors: 1) They are smarter, thanks to unethical experiments on their brains that a scientist (Burrows) has been conducting, and 2) they are chasing their human lunch in an enclosed space, an aquatic lab in the Pacific.
Deep has enough scares, blood and action sequences for die-hard shark-flick fans, but neither the script nor the acting ever rise above the routine. Although director Renny Harlin (The Long Kiss Goodnight) clearly knows his way around an action scene, he fails to make Deep seem, well, deep. Part of the problem is Jane (The Thin Red Line), the film's bland blond leading man, who is so laid-back you will find yourself rooting for the sharks. At least they have attitude. (R)
Bottom Line: Jaws without the bite
Matthew Broderick, Joely Fisher, Rupert Everett
Matthew Broderick deserves so much better. As he proved earlier this year in Election, he is an actor capable of playing sly comedy, of burrowing into a character and revealing complex inner mechanisms.
Mechanisms, neither complex nor inner, are all he gets to reveal in the uninspired, relentlessly dopey Inspector Gadget. As the title character, Broderick grins inanely while hundreds of devices (a lighter, a propeller, a goo-spouting hose, etc.) pop out of his fingers, legs and head after his mild-mannered security guard is transformed via surgery into a gadget-loaded cybercop. Based on a TV cartoon, Gadget will amuse kids young enough to love any and all jokes involving getting slimed. (PG)
Bottom Line: Misassembled
Mark and Michael Polish, Michele Hicks
Featured attraction
Twin Falls Idaho gets under your skin. A weird, dreamy and even sentimental film about conjoined twins (once called Siamese), it turns what could be creepy into a richly haunting tale of dependence and love.
Blake and Francis Falls (played by real-life identical twins Mark and Michael Polish, who also cowrote Twin, which Michael directed) are first seen in a grungy motel room. A forlorn prostitute (Hicks, in a striking debut) comes calling and, after overcoming her initial revulsion, befriends the two and begins a tentative romance with Blake (Mark). Complicating things further is that Francis is possibly dying. "Maybe I'll call you when I'm single," Blake jokes mirthlessly. As Twin Falls slowly reveals its multiple stories and meanings, it takes viewers on a journey that will leave few hearts untouched. (R)
Bottom Line: Strangest movie of the year, and one of the best
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
