This movie has been panned, slammed, and destroyed by every two-bit
hack with a typewriter, almost guaranteeing it to be a fun flick to
watch. Even Bruce Willis's egotism is endearing when set within the
film's corny quirkiness. Featuring performances from such under-used
greats as Sandra Bernhardt and Frank Stallone, the movie follows
Italian terrorists and the CIA as they try to force the world's
greatest cat-burglar to steal Leonardo Da Vinci's artwork, which they
need to make a machine that turns lead into gold. Willful suspension
of disbelief becomes a moot question with a plot this ridiculous, but
self-consciously silly stunts and snappy dialogue ("We blow up space
shuttles for breakfast; You would be nothing more than a late-afternoon
triscuit") make it a blast to watch.
David Cronenberg's adaptation of the famed William S. Burroughs novel
is one of the few post-beat generation attempts to do credit to the
genre. Confused and surreal, this drug-fueled opus follows the
hallucinations of a junkie through a dream-like web of aliens,
espionage, and delusional paranoia. Peter Weller plays the main role
of Bill Lee, a novelist who becomes convinced that he's a spy
attempting to infiltrate the sinister Interzone, Inc.--a Northern
African nation concerned mainly with the production of exotic
hallucinogens and deranged writers. Most of the other characters are
talking homosexual insect typewriters. Best of all, this flick
guarantees dozens of individual viewings without any danger of really
understanding what in Lord's creation is going on.
