The X-Files: Fight the Future was the first movie I ever saw alone. I shouldn’t have bothered. Armed with good intentions, the producers didn’t want to alienate people who hadn’t seen the series, so the plot was kept simple and uninteresting.
Exponentially better than its sequel, The X-Files: I Want to Believe, where the replacement teacher on “Head of the Class” plays a pedophile priest who cuts his own Bill Clinton off.
Wilde starred unknown A-list English hotties engaging in gay sex. Unfortunately, they engage in it with Stephen Fry. Michael Sheen was so convincing that it took having a kid and sixteen years of high profile relationships with women for me to be open to the idea that he might not be gay. He got hot with age. Jude Law plays Wilde’s petulant lover. He got less hot with age. Orlando Bloom played a prostitute. He’s always been hot.
Callie dragged me to this one at an art-house theater in DuPont Circle. Sadly, I didn’t know the works of Oscar Wilde, so the movie held little context except that of soft-core porn. I once took offense when I learned a boyfriend told his friend that I wasn’t well-read. In hindsight, the criticism was poor grounds for the breakup I initiated; especially since it was true.
The Opposite of Sex was the critical indie darling that summer. Career-making turn for Cristina Ricci who shed her Addams Family image, only to start taking advice from the people who probably managed Mira Sorvino. The last good thing she was in was “Pan Am.” “Pan Am” was canceled.
Putty actually went to private school with Cristina Ricci for a while. Everyone kept calling her Wednesday, so she transferred. You think the chick that would later star in Black Snake Moan would have thicker skin than that.