Into the Night

Real slick trash moviemaking--a glitzy piece of crap which hardly bears mentioning. A film made for the Hollywood party circuit, including the directors who have bit roles. Here is a picture with a talented director (John Landis), good male lead (Jeff Goldblum), and beautiful woman (Michelle Pfeiffer---of you-know-what fame) and it goes pop-schizo beserk. It's the kind of movie that sets up characters as comic, for comic relief, and then fwo scenes later has their throats slit) quite graphically, which leaves everybody with a sort of queasy feeling, the kind you get when you find a dead bird on your front step. You feel like the victim of a not-funny practical joke. And showing off all the Hollywood glitter spots (and even the occasional good camerawork) doesn't make up for the unconvincing plot, and even less convincing dialogue. Comes off like "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous Directors" for the unwashed masses, eager for glamor. Insulting.