The Black Bobby

April 7, 2008

Bobby Galinsky is at it again. This time its The Black Balloon. He should have his own Movie Show. He’s like the anti-David Stratton. More power to him…

A few weeks ago THE BLACK BALLOON slipped into our cinemas like a $100 hooker at a Bar Mitzvah. You knew it was wrong but given the other options you thought ‘why not check it out?’.

OHMIGAWD! The Aussie Rain Man! An Australian director, fueled by government funding and a script development program that gave us such gems as SOMERSAULT and LITTLE FISH has come up with a tasty tale of a suburban family torn apart by their severely autistic child. And I’m not talking Rain Man here. No counting cards or ‘sparkly’ comments or ‘QANTAS never crashes’ lines (although they came close last week and I hope one of their planes goes down soon so that invincibility myth will end once and for all!, So long as it’s not my CANNES flight in May). Just a very unattractive Nietzsche-an broken little creature who is like a crack baby in a blender when you get him stirred up.

And voila’! He has a model brother whose girlfriend is… YES!!! a REAL model!! Ten points and go forward three spaces!

The brother, a likeable fuckwit a la Heath Ledger before the Big Sleep, meets Gemma Ward, a young supermodel who just happens to be taking a lifesaving course at the local pool. And gosh darn, wouldn’t ya know it but there’s some nasty boys at that pool who will make fun of his brother Tardy Marty as soon as he gets off the Special Bus.

But the real sadness in this epic blandfest is the pregnant, breastfeeding, Toni Collette. (yes, you may clean the vomit off your keyboard and resume at will..) There are few things in the world more distasteful than Toni Collette. But pregnant and breastfeeding and poor on a 60 foot movie screen would drive Jason McCartney back to the Sari Club for some R & R before he’ d sit through this cataclysm of dysfunctional moviemaking.

It’s not that it’s a rotten film… It has nice production values and compared to ESTHER BLUEBURGER (reviewed earlier this millennium for those still alive who made it through…) it’s like BLADE RUNNER. But the characters go nowhere. We can’t even have sympathy for the autistic (or was it artistic?) brother who needs shock therapy or a week at Flickerfest as punishment. It’s just that everyone needs to get in a Tarago and park at the level crossing in Kerang for some light relief.

I wanted to like it. I tried to like it. But once I got out of the film I decided to devote my life not only to legal abortion, but to mandatory abortion.

See this film only if you’ve been drinking dozens of Baccardi Breezers in your third trimester and unlike Joan Crawford, are still using wire coat hangers…

Cinematically Yours B.

From Pete Ford’s site. Be sure to check it out…link below

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