Lights Out
Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond
All rights reserved


        Ŀ        
         CORINNA, CORINNA:  Written & directed by Jessie Nelson.   
         Starring Whoopi Goldberg, Ray Liotta, Tina Majorino,      
         Wendy Crewson, Larry Miller, Erica Yohn, Jenifer Lewis,   
         Joan Cusack, and Don Ameche.  New Line Cinema.  Rated PG. 
        

          Whoopi's had an interesting career, alternating broad comedy
     (BURGLAR, GHOST, SISTER ACT) with heart-touching drama (THE COLOR
     PURPLE, THE LONG WALK HOME, CLARA'S HEART), equally at home
     wringing laughter or tears from her audience.  On the heels of
     1993's disappointing MADE IN AMERICA, we now have CORINNA,
     CORINNA, a touching look at a young girl, her nanny, and her
     father.  Set in the 1950s, CORINNA, CORINNA is a film more of its
     characters than of the time it wants to portray.

          Ray Liotta is a jingle writer with an ad agency that's
     working on big name accounts like Mr. Potato Head and Jello.
     His wife dies unexpectedly, and due to his commitments at work,
     he needs to hire a nanny, and he needs to do it right away.  The
     parade of nannies is starting to become old hat for this kind of
     picture (neatly spoofed by the multi-voiced Robin Williams in
     MRS. DOUBTFIRE), and the present film really adds nothing to the
     clich.  There's the bible-thumper, the neurotic, the storm-
     trooper, and the demander, all laid out in a row like a blueprint
     for a Mary Poppins remake.  Whoopi's interview scene is rather
     standard as well, nervous during the interview (trying to take
     charge, then backpedaling mightily), capped off by her kind act
     towards Tina Majorino, Liotta's daughter, that the father happens
     to catch through a parted curtain.  This kind of scene always
     strikes me as false; just because a person is kind to a child
     doesn't mean he or she will make a good babysitter/nanny/
     caretaker.  But of course Whoopi does, and manages to draw
     Majorino out of her shell.

          Majorino temporarily refuses to speak after her mother's
     death, falling into a self-imposed autism that you'd expect the
     father to have her examined by a specialist -- he makes enough
     money to pay for treatment.  But all it takes, and here's another
     one of the movie's fallacies, is Whoopi's love and irreverent
     attitude to overcome the child's deep psychological scars.  It
     only happens in the movies, folks, and in this instance serves as
     the first step to the inevitable: Goldberg and Liotta falling in
     love.  I don't mean to sound cynical here -- the scenes are
     tentative and very touching, and there's one shot of Majorino
     lying on a hillside, her mother's dress beside her and her hand
     hidden protectively in one of the dress' pockets, that will
     absolutely pull your heart out of your body.  It may be a
     manipulative scene with little grounding in reality, but the
     image *works*, and works exceedingly well.  Would that
     writer/director Jessie Nelson had crafted the rest of the picture
     as lovingly as that shot.

          After Majorino begins speaking, the focus shifts to the
     incipient love story, which grows very naturally from the
     circumstances.  Both Liotta and Goldberg share an intimate
     knowledge of music, he due to his chosen profession, she because
     she loves music and longs to write album liner notes (remember
     liner notes?) and a column in "High Hat" magazine.  Music becomes
     the universal language of love, to steal a quote from another
     source, and as the soundtrack becomes more lush and more lusty
     (bluesy numbers from Louis Armstrong and Billy Holliday add
     nicely to the proceedings), the relationship deepens, and
     relatives on both sides (Liotta's parents, Goldberg's sister)
     begin to notice, all the time fixing them up with boring,
     desperate dates.  Wendy Crewson does a nice turn as Liotta's
     potential girlfriend, thrown at him by his mother.  She's lonely,
     but Nelson gives the character a comedic spin, so she doesn't
     seem too pathetic.

          At first, I didn't think a relationship between Liotta and
     Goldberg would work on screen, but Nelson builds to it so
     gradually and interestingly (some nice scenes depicted from
     Majorino's point of view) that it works.  Unfortunately, when
     Nelson deals with the attendant bigotry of the time, from both
     sides of the relationship, the movie falls flat and becomes
     forced.  We expect the prejudice to crop up earlier and more
     strongly, and when it finally rears its ugly head, it's no more
     threatening than a Klansman in a paisley sheet.

     RATING:  $$
