LA Weekly from Los Angeles, California • 50

CALENDAR FILM ally the only option for Williams besides Mrs. Doubtfire? The movie is good proof we're living in a post-human era it's an attempted alternative to the mainstream that quickly falls into total incoherence. Being Human leaves an impression of passion remembered rather than felt, of an entire aesthetic fading fast into irrelevance. Note to the world: it's time to try something else. (Regent, AMC Old Pasadena ((Hugh Bonar) BELLE EPOQUE Set in 1931, when the clash between Spain's Nationalist and Republican factions was in full swing, director Fernando Trueba's Belle Epoque is a Tom Jones-y little affair in which Fernando (Jorge Sanz), a gourmet chef and former seminarian, deserts the army and wanders the countryside in search of a life.

He meets Manolo (Fernando Ferndn Gdmez), a crusty old painter, in a rural whorehouse, and accepts an invitation to stay the night at his house. When Manolo's four daughters strotl with Tracy Chapman), (Nuart Sat. AfliJElizabeto Piraeus) ZERAM Zeram may call to mite Blade Rimer, Alien and even John Carpenter's Tie Thing, but Japanese sci-fi director Keita Amemrya never ceases to anas wito his originality ate inventiveness. Zeram, a samurailike creature with a sinister kabuki "face, is a renegade biological weapon from another galaxy tost is on its way to Earth. 8ya (Yuko Mortyama) is a galac-tic bounty hunter whoiamvedearty to intercept The fun begins when twoTbkyo electricians (Yukfoiro Ho-taru ate Kuntoto Ida) stiinfole into an elaborate computer-generated "virtual trap" state wito toe hideous beast Bonis blaze, ninja kicks fly, pores ooze, ate tire pace never lets up.

Zeram's special effects are so insidious theyre the stuff of nktftimares ate so cheesy they're tire stuff of fondue. Either way, Amemtya, who co-wrote tire screenplay wito YEN COWGIRLS GET IKE HUES See film feature. A MIUJCX TO JUAN Unfortunately, someone drought A Million to Juan, a film that could have been a charming slice of East LA life, needed a gimmick. Even -less fortunate is that nobody, not even screenwriters Frandsca Matos and Robert Grasmere, knew Mat to do with it once they found one. As the awful title suggests, Juan toper (Paul Rodriguez, who directs as well) a struggling undocumented jack-of-atl-trades, receives a check for $1 million from a mysterious figure in a white stretch limo.

Juan can use the check any way he wishes, but at the end of 30 days he must return it uncashed, to receive a reward. Juan, the type of dreamy-eyed idealist who never wishes for anything money can buy. ts never tempted, never threatened, never in any mortal danger whatsoever. He wanders around fretting over what tote, but after "doing nothing he's still rewarded. The moral of this tale? You got me.

Rodriguez also does little with his east iff characters. Edward James Olmos, Ruben Blades and Cheech Marin all make appearances for naught The neighborhood characters including Juan's two novella-loving uncles, his young artistic son, and a mother and daughter who bathe themselves in the light of devotional candles each carry a story within them but are lost in the confusion over what the check means. The real lesson to be gleaned from A Million to Juan is to trust drat the lives of ordinary people are rich enough to cany a film. (City-wide) Paul Malcolm) MIGHT Of THE DEMONS 2 I don't recall these movies going so fer as to show demons giving guys hartdjobs. Have we really gotten as far as theres no point anymore in following a linear progression with these tilings (was there ever?) let's chart tirem according to their escalating heights of depravity Demons (Sve GtiyHandjobMomlbj the classic Night dtheDerrms--Shrimping vie Undead Freud reigns again as hot young kids are eviscerated for releasing chaos thrmi theif percolating sexual ity.

Nuns, haunted houses, bad Catholic schoolgirls, you get the idea. What's differem here ts the degree to which toe filmmakers fealty and truly don't care abortf sodal (OTfitionir--, there's area! glee for evil, a sweet sense of ton asthe taboos shatter. Quickly enough, tiiough, toe retribution begins, more out of habit than anything. By foe end, the authority figures we were first encouraged fo hate have returned as campif ied heroes (one of the nuns wields a squirt gun filled with holy water). Sul, they were realty on to something fora minute there- you could practically see the audience's expectations melting with the defeated demons' tons.

(State, mill! Wiuii( DREAM GIRLS See Film feature. We also recommend: Backbeat, Bitter Moon, Blue, Cronoa, Crooklyn, The Crow, The East la Rad, Endgame, The Fire I hie Time, Uke Water for Chocolate, The Plano, Rod Rock Woat, Schindler a Ust, Serial Mom, Sirens, Suture, Whon a Man Lovea a Woman, Wlttgenateln, Zeram. SHADES OF BLAOL "Two women. One obsession. Seduction.

Betrayal. Madness. Shades ofBtxkhMs is really toe sort of thing that gives independent filmmaking a bad name. Trisha McCormick stars as Lilly Szadoe, a su-per-hip, urbane, highly open-mindediyou know -what 1 mean) sculptor ate mask maker, putting to-gether her first big performance-art show. She befriends Kate (Jennifer MacDonald) a young photographer unsteady with to sexuality.

Ire mentor-apprentice relationship is set together they go shopping ate discuss art at eafds (it should "come from toe gutl" lily tells her). Soot enough Lilly's slowly seducing tree backing away ate returning a progressive, trrergtocable hysteria. Things go on interminably far a white. Then, etearty an artistic cul-de-sac, writer-director Mary Haverstick has tire haptess artist go berserk fa a sudden burst of Hitchcockian violence; aha pulls a imifa at her pal ate chases her away forever. The next-toTast arena is Kate confiding tire vitooie etfoenence fa her new friend, who, actually, lodes a lot like Harold Ramis.

Wasn't this all a commercial for General Foods international Coffee? (Sunset Sat Ham, (Hugh Bcmar) WARRIOR MARKS It's hard to knock novelist Alice Waiter and filmmaker Pratibha Parmar for their concern about female gem-: tai mutilation, a practice commoipiace fa Africa, toe Middle East and other parts of tire world (including tire U.S.) fa which tire Clitoris and labia of young girls are lobbed off and the wounds sutured shut Warner Marks, from Brittsh-lndian director Pamrer (who has -previously profiled such eomterculture celebs as June Jordan and Angela Davis) is an ostensfcle exploration into the ritualized torture that's handed tewn over generations ate intended to make women "dean and fit fix marriage. The problem? Too much Alice Walker. During a lengthy setup. Walker describes bowshe was maimedasachltd a bullet from ha brother's gun tended her fa are eye. Throughout toe dacumentary, she returns again and again to this incident, comparing her own "patriarchal wound with tire ravaged genitals of entire nations of women.

bit of a stretch? Worse. Walker as-sumes tire rale of American crusader; she confronts village eiders with Wd-m-some woutasayconde-scetefag-T-questions abtovtfiy tire tradition continues, then fails to draw articulate conclusions from tire information she gathers. Meanwhile, shots of an African woman dancing'passionatety are interwoven into tire narrates fa what seems an attempt to convey rage and resistance. But it merely comes off as stagy.) A better doc has been made on the same topic, Fire Byes by first-time Somalian director Soraya Mire, in her film, a rigorous analysis of the forces that fuel the mutilations is combined with a comprehensive report on the educational movement afoot to end the practice. It's far more valuable than Warrior Markd starstruck approach that even includes a time-out to take a THE EAST BRED Genre-testing and gender-bending, The East Is Bed is Hong Kong exploitation at its most delirious.

This third chapter of producer Tsui Mark's "Swordsman" series lets rip with blades, guns, feet and fists flying, and precious little exposition. The scene is China, circa tire Ming dynasty. Once again China is at war, but this time the conflict isnt just domestic, it's imported by way of Spam, Holland and Japan, Koo Yu fiong-Guang, a government official and master swordsman, escorts a Spanish delegation to a Zeram sacred min atop the Black Cliffs. There he discovers that the fearsome Asia the Invincible Brigitte tin Ching-hsia) is alive and kicking, female and furious. Asia a supernatural being who'd pre- i viousty assumed feminine form -resolves to punish China for Its sins.

But only after she blasts the Spanish, disposing of their guns and crucifixes with contempt.) Asia attacks, Koo follows, carnage ensues. Meanwhile Asias for mer flame, the cross-dressing Snow Joey Wong), is searching for the Invincible One while traveling aboard a warship bustling with manly men and womanly women. Or so they all seem, Tot when warriofs soar through the air, and threaded needles are deployed like weapons, then truly, seeing is never believing. (Monica 4-flex; mid.itManohla Oargis) CURRENT RELEASES BABYFEVER Henry Jaglom is under the mistaken impression we care what he thinks about so-called "women's issues." Give it a rest, pal; we don't care. In fact, if Jaglom doesn't lay off the condescending and maudlin inquiries into the lives of contemporary women, well sic "Serial Mom" on him.

(Now theres a gal who knows what being a woman in the 90s is all about.) In Babyfever, directed and co-written by Jaglom Eating New Year's Day, he stages a baby shower at which a coterie of upper-middle-class Los Angelenos ooh and aah over mounds of gifts and offer commentary on their ticking biological clocks. The central issue, of course, is how to juggle career and motherhood through Jaglom's proprietary lens, this not unimportant topic is presented as a personal neurosisobsession peculiar to women, as if political and social complexities would disappear if we'd just shut up and get barefoot and pregnant. Babyfever includes a couple of dissenters who say they don't want children (and are consequently scolded by the others), yet nearly all the women mouth squishy platitudes about the glow of pregnancy and the fulfillment of motherhood. Revisionist propaganda doesn't get much heartier than this. In the press notes.

ixuaw Midi? Hajfare Matsumoto. never settles for tire ordinary and already seen. He's always disgustingly playful. Mortyama as Ilya is a hero for the (post) modem age. Self-reliant ate sexy, shed waste Linda Hamilton hands down.

Meanwhile, the only men fa tire film stumble arotfad with wet britches for sometimes brilliant comic relief. Zeram is Arne-miya's second sci-Ft picture; Mirai Ninja, his first, is headed to the U.S. under tire title Cyber Ninja. Maybe the fact he was bom in Chiba, tire cyber-wasteland of Gibson's Neurmancer, has some- thing to do with it. (SunsetS; mid.) (Paul Malcolm) Not Available at Press Time; Maverick cient and natural, 2) the modern and corrupt and 3) a return to the organic reflects his New Age millennial politics, as does Michael Stearns' seductively mesmerizing music; both employ the hoary tactic of smashing the old into the new (percussion and chant are sweetened with resonant electronic drones) to promote a simplistic return to the opulent visuals and sound merely restate the belief that you can still have it all.

Still, there's no arguing with the jaw-dropping wonders Fricke's captured the fires of Kuwait in particular are terrifyingly beautiful. And you do like to watch, don't you? (Sunset 1 1 a.m.) (John Payne) BEING HUMAN The career of director Bill Forsyth Local Herd) has consisted of hits and misses, but never has he blown it this bad. A notably helpless Robin Williams plays five different characters spanning five historical periods in an attempt to display the commonality of human experience. Yes, he plays a caveman, and no, it isnt a joke. Theresa Russell provides voice-overs, reading lines such as and the dead boy's shoes danced a live boy's John Turturro Barton Fink, Madi plays an ancient Roman aristocrat.

Being Human has the look and feel of a vanity project gone horribly awry. For all its sunset-and-seashore transcendentalism, it makes Williams' other, more hypermarketed recent films seem like scalding masterpieces. Is this re arrive for their annual summer visit, desde luego love, lust and laughs follow. Trueba describes Belle Epoque as an homage to the idyllic cinema romances of the past, in particular Renoirs Une Partie de Compagne, that's a very tricky and dubious effort, and this attempt at beating a master at his own game is an inevitably pale and pointless exercise. The daughters, except for the lesbian Violeta (Ariadna Gil), are sexually aggressive but confoundingly superficial, their differences defined mainly by what each wants.

The film's top point, by no means radical, is nonetheless sensational in this heap of fluff: Violeta's seduction of Fernando while in reverse-drag is a luridly comical suggestion of inverted "male" desire. Trueba reserves sympathy and pathos for his older cast, and Belle Epoque gains real feeling when it extends to them hopeful scenarios of passion and sexual joy. But it's all such a tease worthy ruminations on gender warfare, sexual identity, the perils of liberty and. to a minor degree, the Spanish Civil War are cast aside to milk a sunny ambiance and florid charm with classy but familiar form and technique. And as for the four fatuous women, one might ask: Whose belle dpoque was it, anyway? (Selected theaters) Mn Payne) BITTER MOON A film about love and rot, Roman Polanski's Bitter Moon tells the story of two couples whose fates connect while traveling across the Black Sea.

Nigel (Hugh Grant) and Fiona (Kristin Scott-Thomas) are a pair of handsome, sober-minded Brits marking seven years of matrimony with a trip to India. A couple whose intimacy suggests politesse rather than intensity, they're the sort who remain proper even when they shouldn't, most notably in between the sheets. In contrast, Mimi (Emmanuelle Seigner) and Oscar (Petar Coyote), a couple whose familiarity has been nurtured by bile, are nothing if not improper. A self-described ruin in a wheelchair, Oscar enjoys cracking wise about cripples and sex. Like Mimi, he rejects bridge and shuffleboard for more tantalizing game.

'I think you're exactly the listener I've been looking for," he tells Fiona's husband. Poor Nigel is hooked. As much about the exhaustion of romantic love as about its glory. Bitter Moon is a dizzy, out-; landish ride, one that bristles with the director's signature mix of humor and horror. As he curbs pa-.

Jaglom expresses sympathyforwomen, then writes that the "capacity to reproduce is "the central fact of their biology." Really? Not opposable thumbs? Or the ability to think? The most galling aspect of Babyfever is that Jaglom's wife, Victoria Foyt, who co-wrote the script and stars as a conflicted businesswoman with two suitors, really does get pregnant in art and life and the film wraps up with footage of Jagloms real-life baby. The whole project becomes a tribute to Jaglom's virility: call it a trophy movie. (Music Hall) (Elizabeth Pincus) BACKBEAT In Backbeat, rookie director lain Softley resurrects the "lost" Beatle, Stuart Sutcliffe (Stephen Dorff), a talented painter and second-rate bassist who died of a brain hemorrhage in April 1962. Sutcliffe had already left the Beatles at the time of his death, but his brief tenure with the group assured him a spot in its creation myth. Like James Dean, whom he resembled, Sutcliffe died young.

Unlike Dean or his friend John Lennon, he left a pretty corpse. The film's launch is Hamburg, 1960, where the Beatles played fast, lived cheap and partied hard. There in the city's dives the quintet sharpened its talents and fell in with a crowd of young Germans who fancied themselves existentialists, among them a woman named Astrid Kirchherr (Sheryl Lee). For its first half, Backbeat is the story of five young Liverpudlians and how they became the little band that could. When Kirchherr comes on the scene, the boys' own story takes a turn from rock roll to romance.

She and her ex-beau, Klaus (Kai Wiesinger), introduce the group to Hamburg's artful demimonde; she stakes a claim on Stu's heart, puts a stake through John's (Ian Hart). Shrouded in awe, Softley's film is easy on the ears and eyes and wholly fun. Reverence, however, does not always become a legend, and outside some work by Dorff and Hart there's little here to excite the heart, the soul or the libido. Something made all those panties wet. You could dance to it, sure, but that wasn't all.

(Selected theaters) (Manohla Dargis) BARAKA The majestic 70mm wideness of Ron Frickes Baraka is more a triumph of technical ingenuity than of profound thinking. His wordless around-the-world documentary of topographical marvels, architecture, ritual and faces stuns like Koyaan-isqatsi (for which he was director of photography), and his contrasts of natural beauty with industrial rape are at once sobering and thrilling. But do the images really speak for themselves? Fricke's another filmmaker preaching with pictures: in Baraka, editing becomes editorializing becomes montage, in the tradition of Eisenstein: a tree falls, followed by a closeup of a guileless but stern "Third World" boy, which registers as reproach. Fricke's three-part structure of 1) the an- 50 WEEKLY MAY 20-MAY 26. 1994.