What do you get when you cross cinematic midget Tom Cruise with obsessive-compulsive has-been (now worm food) Stanley Kubrick?
A complete waste of resources. The great thing about Eyes Wide Shut is that it kept Tom Cruise off the bigscreen for a loooong time. While we’re on the subject of Tom Cruise, let’s meander a bit. Tom Cruise is famous for one reason and one reason only: people can’t figure out if he’s taking it up the poop chute or not. It’s just like the Richard Gere gerbil rumor. Both Cruise and Gere married hotties to disguise their insatiable appetites for schlong. With movies like Top Gun, Cocktail (hmmmm…interesting title), Days of Thunder and Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise means job security for ol’ Rufus.
But enough about my dislike of Tom Cruise’s inability to act and say no to shit scripts. Eyes Wide Shut sucks the hind tit. The overall theme of this waste of celluloid is that Tom’s character experiences marital distress after his ol’ lady reveals to him while smokin’ some chronic, that she has recurring fantasies of being ravaged by an officer of America’s armed services. Instead of taking advantage of the opportunity and feeding his wife the meat pipe, Tom’s character decides to go schlepping through the streets of New York (recreated in London by paranoid freak Kubrick). Cruise’s character, whose name is completely irrelevant because Cruise couldn’t act his way out of a wet paper sack and any character he plays is always indelibly linked directly to him, schleps around the city looking to cop some tail while telling anyone who will listen, “Hey…I’m a doctor…look at my I.D.” Do doctors do that? Does anyone do that outside of law enforcement? “Hello, my name is Rufus, I’m a garbage collector…smell my hands.”
While cooling his heels in a Jazz club (cruising for dong?) he runs into an old rump-ranger….er…fellow student from medical school. His special “friend” informs him that he has to play a “secret” gig in a few hours (hence he won’t be able to bugger Tom.) Tom’s character is determined to find a way into the wild masquerade orgy.
Cut to a third-rate-adolescent-sex-fantasy-written-by-a-pimpley-faced dungeon-master-slash-1980’s-LA-heavy-metal-video and you have the source of the buzz about this movie. I assume that’s what the buzz is about as the rest of the movie is a complete dry hump filled with preposterous dialogue and even more preposterous situations. I mean good-looking clean street-walking hookers in New York? Who the fuck are you kidding Stan? Any hooker working the street has more bruises than a Cleveland Browns defensive lineman. And, yeah, she’s gonna take you to her house. Every ho I’ve ever solicited made me pay for a room. Anyway, The orgy scene is filled with fat rich guys and clean prostitutes with great racks wearing freaky masks.
Tom gets caught and threatened with serious bodily injury. The rest is a blur. The bottom line is this: There is no real message worth relating to you. It’s a long, dull moronic film filled with Tom Cruise. The only people I’ve talked to who like the film enjoyed it for it’s “eye-candy” element. Art direction does not make a film a masterpiece.
My end of movie reaction:
“That’s three hours of my life I’ll never get back.”