FOUR ROOMS (1995) *1/2 It's one of those things that Hollywood-types do for paid relaxation: four directors, endless stars showing up for a few minutes, self-congratulatory air as if they've re-taken the cosmos spread triumphantly over a script whose sole strengths are quirkiness and one-liners. Tim Roth moves from room to room, which is mainly what he's supposed to do, and is willfully, almost admirably, ridiculous. Allison Anders (**1/2) directs a room full of (famous, or semi-famous) witches behaving stupidly and obscenely and composing bad poetry. Roth then goes to Alexandre Rockwell's (*) room where Jennifer Beals is tied to a chair, and recites all of the slang words for penis as soon as her gag is removed. Antonio Banderas is frequently hysterical (all physical, like a stud Jerry Lewis) in Robert Rodriguez' (**) piece, but if anything the gross factor goes up. Quentin Tarantino (*1/2) closes things off with yet another contemplation on the ethics and aesthetics of Hollywood. With this many recognizable actors (Madonna, Bruce Willis, Salma Hayek, Ione Skye), the most interesting part, I guess, is trying to figure out who wins the battle to distinguish themselves with only a few lines. I go for Lili Taylor, definitely, with honourable mention to Antonio, and Marisa Tomei for the best line.
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