Turner Films are on the loose again. John Travolta
trudging down the stairs in his boxer shorts and taking a
can of beer from the fridge. This is someone's idea of an
angel? Or is it only someone's idea of a joke? Rather
than reverting to the servile assistance of Edmund Gwenn
aboard a ship, the flamboyance of Marius Goring among a bed
of roses, the humanity of Spencer Tracy fresh from a
fateful plane crash, or the deviousness of Claude Rains
peering over a shoulder (an angel of another kind), the
producers have decided to go whole hog with pot-belly
naturalism and the seductive charisma of fast-footed John.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm as overjoyed as anyone to see
the Trav back in the spotlight, but I can't picture this
particular vehicle doing much of anything except clip his
wings. Joining in the escapade are William Hurt, Andie
MacDowell, Robert Pastorelli, and Jean Stapleton (who's
lucky enough to die in the first reel). With a cast like
this, one could imagine decent, if not spectacular,
results. Wrong. Even more surprising is the fact that
director and co-writer Nora Ephrom, who has given us such
delights as Sleepless in Seattle and When Harry Met Sally,
is one of the driving forces behind it.
Michael is a fun-loving angel who has come to earth to help
an old lady (Stapleton) with her financial problems. In
typical battle fashion, he angelically destroys her bank
and saves the day. She writes the newspapers about her
guardian angel. Frank Quinlan, a washed-up tabloid
journalist (Hurt), smells a story and sets off to check it
out, accompanied by fellow reporter Huey Driscoll
(Pastorelli), and new associate Dorothy Winters
(MacDowell). So, they hop into the car and make their way
(just like pioneers) across the plains. Arriving in Iowa
they discover that Michael is a real, albeit unorthodox,
angel. Having introduced everyone, Pansy Milbank
(Stapleton) coughs over her last breakfast and the
remaining crew is able to leave the household behind
accompanied by their fine-feathered friend.
Quinlan and Dorothy don't get along. Now, Michael may not
look a lot like Dolly Levi, but he's got some tricks up his
toga. In the meantime, on the road, Michael pursues fun in
his own fashion. Among Michael's favorite forms of fun is
womanizing. What could we expect? After all, he is well-
endowed with a prodigious set of wings? The women seem to
find him irresistible. As co-scriptwriter Delia Ephron
says, "He turns out to be quite a handful". One of the
most enjoyable scenes in the film is a parody of Saturday
Night Fever which has the Trav floating the floor and
drawing the ladies around, but even this might have been
enhanced if somebody had thought of incorporating the
choreographic talents of Deney Perrio once again.
During the trip Michael manages to find sufficient time to
read a book entitled, appropriately enough, Amazing America
which lists various oddities that Michael would like to
see. He is, it would appear, fascinated by size. We get
to view the world's largest ball of twine and the world's
largest non-stick frying pan while watching the world's
biggest reel of wasted celluloid.
Nobody seems to question Michael's reappearance in the film
after he dies. Or perhaps this is intended to awaken the
audience to metaphysical reasoning. Do angels die? If and
when they die, do they disappear? Can angels reincarnate
and, if so, would the Church of Rome be partial toward the
idea? Follow my advice and don't get your feathers in a
fluster about it. This film will convince you that Heaven
can wait.
© 1994-2006 The Green Hartnett
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