Patrick Sheane Duncan's screenplay for MR. HOLLAND'S OPUS got a little cheesy or saccharine at times. But there was enough grit in every scene to make it believable. The script of A HOME OF OUR OWN ladles on the Velveeta and Karo Syrup to the point where you'll smack your head in every scene.
Kathy Bates is a single mom with six kids. She pours abuse on her absent husband every time she refers to him (but never by name). He abandoned her, you assume.
D'OH!!! He died. And she loved him desperately. M. Night Shyamalan couldn't have done that twist more cringefully.
Bates is working in a potato chip factory where a boss grabs her butt. She beats him up, then slugs his boss (who tries to break it up) for good measure. HOLY PLOT DEVICE, BATMAN!!! Bates loses her job. Better leave LA and drive to Idaho to start a new life.
Bates tells eldest son Ed Furlong that she wants to find a nice home to raise her kids, and she'll know the right place when she sees it.
She finds an a half-finished shack with no roof or windows (holes in the walls). She'll take it!!
Yes, of course they live comfortably. In a shack with canvas tied over the rafters. In Idaho. In winter.
No, nobody from Child Welfare tries to take the kids away. Yes, Bates manages to feed seven people on her earnings as a waitress in a bowling alley in BFE. No, Bates won't apply for relief-- or even take donations from the local priest. Yes, she reams him out every time she sees him.
It's like Performance Art; I kept watching to see how high the movie would stack the stoopid. Other than Furlong, only one of the moppets gets to be a person. Second son-- who has to sit next to Mom in the outhouse in one memorable scene-- gets a job at a junkyard so he can buy the family a toilet with his wages.
When he finally gets it hooked up, he decides to celebrate by burning down the outhouse. And remember that tarp serving as the roof?
You can guess the rest. But don't worry-- the neighbors show how much they love the plucky "Lacey Tribe" in the last scene.
DIrector Stephen Herek saved HOLLAND from excess by pulling back hard on the reins in many scenes. This movie goes down because Director Tony Bill keeps asking viewers "Would you like Kool Whip and Bacos on your Cheez Whiz?" in every scene.
Bates, who refuses to play even remotely likable (think Lewis Black with boobs) helps. Furlong tries, but the narration by his future self is just too much freight to carry. Jean Lepine's photography is pretty; Michael Covertino's portentous score drenches the film in deeply meaningful strings.
Yes, you could call this a "feel good" movie. It made me feel good about how good Robert Benton's PLACES IN THE HEART is.
Unless you're willing to mock it-- or willing to clutch every manipulation to your breast-- this is a "Straight to Lifetime Movie Network" deal.
Kathy Bates is a single mom with six kids. She pours abuse on her absent husband every time she refers to him (but never by name). He abandoned her, you assume.
D'OH!!! He died. And she loved him desperately. M. Night Shyamalan couldn't have done that twist more cringefully.
Bates is working in a potato chip factory where a boss grabs her butt. She beats him up, then slugs his boss (who tries to break it up) for good measure. HOLY PLOT DEVICE, BATMAN!!! Bates loses her job. Better leave LA and drive to Idaho to start a new life.
Bates tells eldest son Ed Furlong that she wants to find a nice home to raise her kids, and she'll know the right place when she sees it.
She finds an a half-finished shack with no roof or windows (holes in the walls). She'll take it!!
Yes, of course they live comfortably. In a shack with canvas tied over the rafters. In Idaho. In winter.
No, nobody from Child Welfare tries to take the kids away. Yes, Bates manages to feed seven people on her earnings as a waitress in a bowling alley in BFE. No, Bates won't apply for relief-- or even take donations from the local priest. Yes, she reams him out every time she sees him.
It's like Performance Art; I kept watching to see how high the movie would stack the stoopid. Other than Furlong, only one of the moppets gets to be a person. Second son-- who has to sit next to Mom in the outhouse in one memorable scene-- gets a job at a junkyard so he can buy the family a toilet with his wages.
When he finally gets it hooked up, he decides to celebrate by burning down the outhouse. And remember that tarp serving as the roof?
You can guess the rest. But don't worry-- the neighbors show how much they love the plucky "Lacey Tribe" in the last scene.
DIrector Stephen Herek saved HOLLAND from excess by pulling back hard on the reins in many scenes. This movie goes down because Director Tony Bill keeps asking viewers "Would you like Kool Whip and Bacos on your Cheez Whiz?" in every scene.
Bates, who refuses to play even remotely likable (think Lewis Black with boobs) helps. Furlong tries, but the narration by his future self is just too much freight to carry. Jean Lepine's photography is pretty; Michael Covertino's portentous score drenches the film in deeply meaningful strings.
Yes, you could call this a "feel good" movie. It made me feel good about how good Robert Benton's PLACES IN THE HEART is.
Unless you're willing to mock it-- or willing to clutch every manipulation to your breast-- this is a "Straight to Lifetime Movie Network" deal.