A monstrous strain on the mind

Evan Marmol

“Monster” succeeds at rattling and shocking as a consummate

masterpiece of monstrous proportions.

Belying the title, there are no monsters, ghouls or ghosts -- just

degenerates, prostitutes, murders, betrayal and the agony of

destitution mingled with desperation.

This film is based on a real story and like a tragic accident, you

reflexively find yourself turning away, but morbid curiosity pulls

you back.

Aileen Wuornos is a weathered prostitute with her youthful

aspirations and innocence briefly served up to contrast her

transformation. She becomes a haggard, uncouth, slovenly middle-aged

woman trying to deflect all of the suffering she constantly endures.

The true genius of this film is that Aileen Wuornos is played by

none other than South African willowy ingenue Charlize Theron. Her

lithe features and delicate visage, and even her double-lashed

sparkling globes for eyes, are converted into an unrecognizable train

wreck.

Theron’s character has a chance encounter with a diffident young

lesbian, Selby Wall, played by Christina Ricci. With her meek crimson

cheeks and innocent features, Selby is exactly what the prostitute

thinks will bring some “normality” back to her life.

The movie pitches back and forth, buffeting like a kite. Aileen

attempts a normal profession and finds that an untrained prostitute

is not imminently employable. She then ventures back into

prostitution and is forced into submission, and nearly murdered.

Aileen gains the upper hand on this would-be killer and dispatches

him, robs him of his possessions and vehicle and discovers this to be

a new method of making a living.

From here, the film snowballs and uncomfortably consumes the

audience.

“Monster” is dangerously convincing. It evokes discomfort that may

have you leaving before its conclusion. The truth: I thought it was a

sensational movie, but I would have preferred a documentary to spare

from the strain on the heart and mind.

‘Havana Nights’ fun, but predictable

“Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights” is a lot of charm and as much

substance as you would expect from the title.

This movie is also painfully formulaic, something else you should

expect from the title.

Let’s paste the scenario together and you will get the gist.

Combine a brainy beauty stifled by her family moving to a country on

the verge of revolution. She rebels, finds a native boy and enters a

dance contest. The families on either side do not approve when they

discover the deception, but the dance must go on. The actual dialogue

and narrative merely fill in the gaps for a tale that did not really

need to be retold.

“Havana Nights” was undeniably charming and the charisma of the

cast carried this film to palatable levels. Patrick Swayze puts in a

short and unexpected appearance causing one to smirk, finally

answering the question, “What the heck happened to Patrick Swayze?”

This sequel lacked the panache, and boldness of its predecessor.

It also, thankfully, is not nearly as bawdy. Barring a few brief

scenes, it might have been titled “Ballroom Dancing: Havana

Twilight”.

This is the light dish of movies: small portions served lukewarm,

but not too cold to enjoy if you are a true romantic.

* EVAN MARMOL is Laguna Beach resident. He graduated from UC

Irvine with a degree in psychology and social behavior. He can be

reached at [email protected].