This is one of those rare movies where the cinematography (by the incomparable Vittorio Storaro) and the music (by the equally incomparable Tom Waits, probably his most beautiful bunch of songs and instrumentals ever recorded) warranted (and for the latter received) some Oscar nominations, while the script warranted a golden raspberry. Coppola decided to take a risk and experiment even further after Apocalypse Now- to go to something 'light' like musicals he directed in college after going through such a dark experience like A.N.- and in the process made something that, had it paradoxically been a silent film with most of the accompanying music, would've been a full-blown masterpiece. To say it's gorgeous to look at isn't suffice; anyone who has any interest in the abstract qualities that film can offer, the sublime levels of a "movie" in all its plastic qualities of lavish and stylized production design, ideas put into the construction of a world of fantasy with music, and bright primary colors and compositions that look like they're out of a dream, would have to make it a must-see.
If it's necessarily a good movie is another matter. The problem is, as mentioned, when the characters have to read the lines, which have only so much development as a stunted fetus. Despite all the efforts put in by the unconventional leading players Frederic Forrest and Teri Garr, plus Raul Julia, Natassia Kinski, and Harry Dean Stanton in some clever and juicy supporting roles, and even a couple of moments of real, genuine heart and heartbreak (the latter being of note when Forrest tries to sing "You are my sunshine"), t's just too thin a story to nearly justify all the effort put into it. It makes it almost a frustrating experience to see it all unfold, as the little moments that the characters do connect are overshadowed by the moments of surrealism that Coppola can't pull off. Unlike Apocalypse Now where Coppola managed to equate the complex nature of the characters with he tremendous vision, here he can only do the latter.
That being said, I wish it could've done a better at the box-office, if only had it been released as an art-house film, or (dare I say it) hadn't been so overblown with the finances in it, as it was the film that first put Coppola into chapter 11. However, anytime I want to hear the saddest songs of love recorded in the 80s I can always put on the soundtrack. And it provides more than a few moments of cinematography that will remain unparalleled in the years to come even as digital film grows stronger and film grows more obsolete. Bottom line, only Coppola could roll the dice on this one and almost make it a bona-fide classic.
If it's necessarily a good movie is another matter. The problem is, as mentioned, when the characters have to read the lines, which have only so much development as a stunted fetus. Despite all the efforts put in by the unconventional leading players Frederic Forrest and Teri Garr, plus Raul Julia, Natassia Kinski, and Harry Dean Stanton in some clever and juicy supporting roles, and even a couple of moments of real, genuine heart and heartbreak (the latter being of note when Forrest tries to sing "You are my sunshine"), t's just too thin a story to nearly justify all the effort put into it. It makes it almost a frustrating experience to see it all unfold, as the little moments that the characters do connect are overshadowed by the moments of surrealism that Coppola can't pull off. Unlike Apocalypse Now where Coppola managed to equate the complex nature of the characters with he tremendous vision, here he can only do the latter.
That being said, I wish it could've done a better at the box-office, if only had it been released as an art-house film, or (dare I say it) hadn't been so overblown with the finances in it, as it was the film that first put Coppola into chapter 11. However, anytime I want to hear the saddest songs of love recorded in the 80s I can always put on the soundtrack. And it provides more than a few moments of cinematography that will remain unparalleled in the years to come even as digital film grows stronger and film grows more obsolete. Bottom line, only Coppola could roll the dice on this one and almost make it a bona-fide classic.