Exactly.Prince should have used Al Magnoli to direct all of his films.He is a really skilled director.Actually,he was supposed to direct Graffiti Bridge but he and Prince had artistic differences. | |
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A director like Julien Temple could've brought the scale and dynamics that I think Prince was going for. Of course, Absolute Beginners released in the same year was also a bomb and critically panned. I do give Prince credit for trying something completely different from Purple Rain which was colorful,bright, but dour and serious full of musical numbers. UTCM was black and white, lighthearted in tone, and a few musical moments.
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i was waiting for ufo to chime in, he's probably the most knowledgable on the subject. I still say prince had potential but his ego squelched it. Even still, for an amateur the film is great, only problem with that criteria is, millions of people won't go see a great amateur film. | |
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Prince said he put his heart and soul into this film and everything means something...so i say f those who cant appreciate it | |
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1) Wasn't Purple Rain 2 (movie or soundtrack) 2) Bad acting 3) Bad writing | |
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Yes, I agree. I deliberately avoided watching it for years after seeing Graffiti Bridge, and only recently sat down with it following Prince’s death. I've been a hardcore fan since the early 90s, but I'm also a genuine film lover. Yep, it was terrible.
Sign O The Times is Prince’s best film for me, despite the absurd decision to lip sync (from the greatest performer on the planet!). Purple Rain works in spite some really clunky moments. I agree that Prince actually showed some promise as an actor/screen presence, but he needed to trust the genius of others, take direction and relinquish creative control. One of his greatest flaws in my view was his inability to truly collaborate and properly judge his limitations. His ego often won out over the work. Prince puzzles me to be comepletely honest – he was clearly intelligent in many ways, but such a fool in so many others. | |
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Biggest miss in cinematic musical history was not casting Prince as Willy WOnka in the remake instead of Johnny Depp. God, what a soundtrack and a career move that would have been. Prince practically WAS the Willy Wonka of music. Eccentric, odd, well meaning, reclusive, musical, whimsical, dedicated to the craft, living in his own "factory"... | |
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never thought about that but it's true. didn't they talk of mj being him too? Prince, I thought, became way more comfortable in front of the camera in later years, it wasn't acting in the batman partyman videos but he was never more open and in concert with the cameras, mugging like the cartoons and movies he grew up on, smiling deliciously, blowing up bubbles etc.., never better. He could have done more. | |
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ya, it'd be cool, prince should have done more at any rate. some of these films you guys mention prince did, i haven't seen. I saw the madhouse project, not bad. Music is a jealous mistress though and that was probably a huge factor, music is all consuming.
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I always figured it was ahead of its time... they were expecting another Purple Rain and when that wasn’t what they got, it kind of blinded them from taking any chances on something new. | |
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One of the worst scenes in UTCM is when Jerome exposes Christopher’s “secret plot” to Mary.”It’s not true,Mary”,Christopher says,then covers his face with his hands,presumably to hide his tears that is some really poor acting. | |
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SoulAlive said: I think the movie would have worked better if it had been in color
Oh, yes, yes, yes, YES! Time keeps on slipping into the future...
This moment is all there is... | |
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^^ as I always say,the 80s was a very colorful decade.In 1986,no one was really interested in seeing a black and white movie.I understand that it was supposed to be some kind of homage to those black and white films from the 50s that Prince loved so much,but he limited the appeal of UTCM by not releasing it in color. | |
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I saw it for the first time just a few years ago. Not a memorable movie to me. But not the worst by a long shot. | |
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Off topic. I thought the Honest Man sequence was a nice shout out to Korla Pandit who was a black American who pretended to be an Indian to play white clubs in the late 40s and 50s. | |
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By 1985, a three foot tall black man from Minnesota with a wardrobe seemingly borrowed from The Vanity 6 had reached the very pinnacle of pop superstardom. Prince was a critic's darling and a popular favorite. He'd conquered the world of film a year earlier with Purple Rain and walked away with an Academy Award and a smash-hit soundtrack in the process. Yes, everything was coming up Milhouse for Prince. All those years of hard work and mastering his craft were finally paying off. In flush times like these, Prince is habitually visited by an angry, persistent inner voice from somewhere deep within the inner recesses of his purple and paisley soul. This agitated voice regularly issues a soul-shuddering cry for professional suicide. "Things…going…too…well…Fans….too…happy…career…proceeding…too…smoothly…must…sabotage…self…with…crazy…off-putting…stunt." As usual, this insane inner voice urging self-destruction made some valid points. But how could Prince best go about sabotaging his thriving career? Should he change his already ridiculous prance-about stage name to something so ludicrous it couldn't even be pronounced? Maybe something so bizarre it was more or less sub-verbal, something that would make him a constant target in talk-show monologues and stand-up routines? Or should he scrawl "Slave" on his face and launch a long, public, widely mocked campaign to get out of his major label contract by comparing it to unpaid servitude? How about an album of jazz-fusion instrumentals? That'd certainly scare fans away. What if he formed his own independent label and flooded the market with three-disc monstrosities, bizarre side-projects, and increasingly irrelevant solo albums? That certainly couldn't hurt. What if he passive-aggressively fulfilled Warner Brothers' desperate cry for a Purple Rain sequel with a flaky spiritual romance about an angel named Aura? Or he could very publicly become a Jehovah's Witness, that most respected and least ridiculed of all religious sects. Oh, but there were so many different ways for Prince to fuck up his career, Cajun-style! Over the course of his long, glorious, exquisitely checkered career, Prince would have an opportunity to try out all of the aforementioned career-wreckers. But in 1985, he happened upon an altogether more ingenious self-sabotage scheme. If those Hollywood phonies wanted another Prince movie so damn badly, he'd give them the craziest, least commercial Prince movie imaginable, a black-and-white period piece that's heavy on dialogue–oceans and oceans of terrible, terrible banter–and perversely light on musical performances. Maybe he wouldn't even sing at all! That'd show them. I can imagine Prince's pitch. He'd look a mortified studio suit firmly in the eye and plead "Look, I know this whole black and white thing sounds risky, but if it's any consolation I'll be performing at most two or three songs. It'll be less about the music and more about dialogue and comedy. Cause when you think "hilarity," I'm the first name that springs to mind. Oh, and the soundtrack will be really weird and non-commercial and my character will be a total asshole. But that won't really matter because the woman I'm romancing–who'll be played a white, British unknown, incidentally–will be a raging bitch. Oh, and I die at the end. And I plan to direct it myself after the original director is fired. And film it almost entirely in France. In case you're worried that a hit soundtrack might accidentally fuel interest in the film, you should know I plan to give the soundtrack an entirely different name than the movie. I'll call it Parade and the film Under The Cherry Moon. Now may I please have $12 million for this can't-miss proposition?" I imagine that after the ashen-faced executive picked his jaw up off the ground and tried his damnedest not to look mortified, he assumed that, ever the trickster, Prince was playing an elaborate practical joke and actually planned to make another Purple Rain-style conventional musical melodrama. You know, something for the teenyboppers and MTV die-hards. Warner Brothers' doom was officially sealed. 1986's Under The Cherry Moon opens with glittery narration promising an escapist fairy tale about a bad boy redeemed by the love of a good woman. From the get-go, the film promises more than it can deliver. But for its first scene, at least, the prospect of a screwball Prince romance seems not only palatable but delectable. As the film opens, freewheeling gigolo Prince tickles the ivories while making goo-goo eyes at a potential meal ticket. He doesn't just make love to her with his eyes; he makes love to her, marries her, grows bored and disenchanteded, cheats on her, proposes a trial separation, becomes lonely, and reluctantly reconciles with her exclusively via glances, winks, and lascivious stares. In this first scene, Prince comes off like an impossibly glamorous silent screen star, a caramel-colored Valentino with big, wonderfully expressive eyes who oozes sex and glamour. It's a full-on seduction from a legendary Lothario pitched as much to the audience as his ostensible conquest. Michael Ballhaus' black and white is silky, decadent, and lush, a giddy impossible dream of retro glamour. Initially, Prince's vision of a kinetic screwball comedy directed by Fellini comes gorgeously to life. Prince gives us not just a setting but an entire seductive fantasy world created by consummate old pros Ballhaus, a regular Scorsese collaborator, and production designer Richard Sylbert, a two-time Oscar winner with credits like Chinatown, Dick Tracy, Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?, and The Graduate to his name. Then, alas, people start talking and everything goes to shit. Prince here plays a piano-playing hustler whose affections can be rented by the hour but who pines for true love. He lives with effeminate sidekick/professional manservant Jerome Benton, his half-brother and endlessly game partner in crime, mischief, and androgyny. Perhaps the only heterosexual alive who can pull off wearing a puffy pirate shirt, Prince keeps his customers satisfied with lascivious banter like, "To not hear your voice each day is to die seven times by God's wrath/if I was anything other than human I'd be the water in your bath," but when he happens upon society girl Kristen Scott Thomas (yes, that Kristin Scott Thomas, making an auspiciously inauspicious big-screen debut) at her 21st birthday he's instantly smitten. Thomas' character is written as an elitist snob who treats Prince with aristocratic disdain and lets sinister father Steven Berkoff control her. Yet she's introduced brazenly flashing all of high society, causing a wealthy dowager to faint in horror. After gleefully crowing, "How do you like my birthday suit? I designed it myself," Thomas settles down behind a drum set and leads the crowd in a funk-rock chant of "Let it rock. You just can't stop." Have I mentioned yet that the film takes place either in the '30s, the '40s, or some strange alternate universe that looks uncannily like the distant pre-rock past yet includes boomboxes, computers, cable, answering machines, and references to Liberace and Sam Cooke? Of course, it's possible that the filmmakers included the birthday-nudity scene to foreshadow Thomas' steady progression towards independence via her affair with Prince. Instead it feels incoherent; it's as if the filmmakers prepared one draft of the script where Thomas is a brazen, uninhibited harlot and one where she's a stuffy, repressed prude, then cavalierly combined the two without noticing any inherent contradictions: Thomas is initially repulsed by Prince's leering advances, deriding him repeatedly as a "peasant." "It may seem strange to a hustler like you, but I go out with people my own age, special people. And they don't wear wedding rings either," Thomas hisses self-righteously at Prince, to which he zanily/nonsensically retorts "Then they must be wearing diapers!" This, alas is the film's conception of sophisticated screwball banter. There are elementary school playgrounds with substantially higher levels of verbal wit and intellectual discourse than Under The Cherry Room. Withering insults like "Maybe if you took off your chastity belt, you could breathe a little more better" vex Thomas to the point that she practices a series of equally devastating snaps to hurl Prince's way the next she sees him, settling on "You know, I could breathe a lot easier if the air weren't so polluted by your presence." After treating Prince's moody, obnoxious playboy with withering contempt, Thomas inexplicably falls desperately in love with him, showering her exotic new lover and Benton with gifts and money. But trouble lurks around the corner in the form of Thomas' disapproving father. Will Thomas end up with the mystery man who incites her wildest fantasies or settle down with her stable, predictable (unseen) boyfriend Stuffy Q. Borington III? More importantly, will Prince ever stop behaving like a petulant middle-schooler and sing some fucking songs? Or will the audience simply be forced to choke down dialogue like the following: "Tsk, tsk what a pity. Sometimes life can be so shitty. Here's a girl who's smart and pretty." "It must be easy to swim with a head as swelled as yours." "She ain't got no street." "She wants some of Tricky Dean's pork sausage." "Mirror, mirror sevenfold, who's the finest dressed in gold?" And the following deathless exchanges: "Why are you acting that way?" "Because there's a full moon and I'm a werewolf, bitch. Kiss my ass." And "You rich girls want everything." "No, I want more." If vintage screwball banter suggest a furious volley between two world-class tennis players, Cherry Moon's rinky-dink version feels more like a lazy game of badminton among morbidly obese amateurs. In classic screwball comedies, the leads' rapid-fire surface bickering masks lust, attraction, and ultimately something infinitely more noble and true. Here, however, the leads' withering contempt for each other feels both deeply warranted and effortlessly authentic; it's their growing attraction that feels like a half-assed, unconvincing put-on. Prince and supremely overqualified collaborators Ballhaus and Sylbert here create a sinful, seductive world, then populate it with shrill overgrown adolescents and grating stick figures. A woefully misbegotten would-be concoction, Cherry Moon is like cotton candy with the weight and consistency of a brick. Screwball comedies are all about pacing, speed, momentum, chemistry, wit, and the heedless, exhilarating forward rush of witty banter breathlessly executed. Those are all areas where Cherry Moon is sorely lacking. Shortly after being shot by one of Berkoff's goons, a death-bound Prince (don't worry, in a too-little, too-late bid to give the audience what they want, Prince gets to sing in heaven alongside the Revolution over the end credits) asks Thomas "We had fun, didn't we?". To tardily answer Prince's question: No, we most assuredly did not. Failure, Fiasco or Secret Success: Fiasco
[Edited 1/29/19 5:15am] The Colors R brighter, the Bond is much tighter
No Child's a failure Until the Blue Sailboat sails him away from his dreams Don't Ever Lose, Don't Ever Lose Don't Ever Lose Your Dreams | |
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PeteSilas said:
He was funny but Morris delivery was different, prince's "funny" was always because he was so fucking queer (not meaning in the sexual sense, in the bizarre sense). This. Prince’s humor was fearless, random, and required connecting many dots. When you get it you realize you are reading a strange mind. By contrast, Morris (character) was a shameless self-deprecating cad. No mystery, hat you see is what you get. The humor was watching a hot mess play out. | |
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This review is quite lengthy but one of the funniest ones I've read surrounding the movie | |
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Terrible movie compared to Purple Rain. Only to be topped by the more atrocious GB.
That's my guess anyways. Both have aged horrifically complared to PR. | |
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Too lengthy, had no desire to try and finish, but the parts I did read, only reminded me of how truly awful the movie was! .....I know that some of us loved Prince to the degree where we thought everything he did was adorable, but once the blindfolds are off, you realize that so wasn't the case! In all honesty, UTCM was a horribly bad movie, and Prince's character was annoying and not funny, and certainly not adorable, at all! | |
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Mary Sharon's house (Villa Eilenroc) is still beautiful, and therein still is the sofa Prince was eating grapes and playing on. Grrr! What? | |
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iZsaZsa said: Mary Sharon's house (Villa Eilenroc) is still beautiful, and therein still is the sofa Prince was eating grapes and playing on. Grrr! Nice to see the view in color | |
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[Edited 1/29/19 14:04pm] The Colors R brighter, the Bond is much tighter
No Child's a failure Until the Blue Sailboat sails him away from his dreams Don't Ever Lose, Don't Ever Lose Don't Ever Lose Your Dreams | |
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bonatoc said:
[Edited 1/29/19 14:04pm] Is that an '86 review?? Pretty funny. Imagine going from the critical accolades for PR just two years before to the stingingly negative reviews for this one. That had to be a really tough moment. | |
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that's right BUT, prince created the morris character and he was the character. Morris Hayes describes how they'd talk with that silly voice when they'd bust each other's chops. Morris Day was cool/funny prince was bizarre/wierd/funny. the story of the "wrecka stow" comes from a real life event when the asshole boss Prince went up to Paul Peterson and demanded "read this!" Paul tried to read it, and got really nervous and stammered "wrecka stow" and then Prince told him the punch line and laughed, I think pauls response was "just wierd". | |
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also, said it before but it bears repeating, jerome did the best acting job out of all the minneapolis set, by far in my opinion. He should have done more acting, maybe the only one who had any potential. They say morris but he wasn't as good as jerome. | |
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PeteSilas said: also, said it before but it bears repeating, jerome did the best acting job out of all the minneapolis set, by far in my opinion. He should have done more acting, maybe the only one who had any potential. They say morris but he wasn't as good as jerome. Yes, Jerome was the best in PR. Even his expressions were hilarious. I thought he did a great job with the scene where he gives Prince the tickets to the A6 show. Although, he and Morris as a team really made the film. Their banter and antics were great. | |
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I do not unerstand why aany critics would not like Under The Cherry Moon? Had some great songs from the movie. KISS was one fo them. | |
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42Kristen said: I do not unerstand why aany critics would not like Under The Cherry Moon?. This is the problem with prince fans. We think everything he did was gold. Just cause we are fans we can’t be objective about anything. UTCM deserved the raspberry’s it revived. Even prince was in the couch face down realizing what the hell he had done according to A Pop Life I think it was described. "Climb in my fur." | |
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