Though Pierce Brosnan could be said to be quite a cut about your basic cat burglar, when it comes to the feline aspect of it all, he certainly seems to be having at least nine lives on screen as that similar type of character. Nor does aging appear to factor in when it comes to setting off continual sparks of mutual attraction with his female leads, and now his steamy chemistry with Salma Hayek in Brosnan's latest heist caper, Brett Ratner's After The Sunset.
Brosnan is Max Burdett in After The Sunset, a veteran diamond thief who may be more into his high risk vocation for the challenge, than for the cushy existence it guarantees. Now that the thrill is mostly gone, Max has decided to test the waters of early retirement with his longtime honey and co-conspirator, Lola Cirillo (Salma Hayek). Those waters happen to be the Caribbean here, and a luxury resort far from the annoying surveillance of FBI agents. Or
so Max believes.
Before fleeing the States for their permanent vacation, Max and Lola engaged in a genius scheme to separate an obscenely pricey jewel from goofy Agent Lloyd (Woody Harrelson). But he's tracked them down to the island, and plans to make their lives miserable by hanging around until they either give themselves up, or get caught succumbing to the enticement of grabbing the last great Napoleon Diamond left to swipe. Which happens to reside on display at a cruise ship docked nearby.
Like the gem in question, After The Sunset is a cut above the typical heist scenario. Here character development is definitely in competition with the action, while never stopping too long to hang out with these quirky personalities so that it bogs down the necessary momentum. And the suspense coexists stylishly with the romance and comedy. Brosnan and Hayek generate sultry scenes together, but it's also about heady romance. Not to mention an
incorrigible daredevil jewel thief torn between his two great loves in life, Lola and larceny.
There's also a fairly freaky male bonding and unbonding going on between Max and bungling Agent Lloyd, the latter possibly envying and secretly admiring the exploits of his adversary, as much as he is he is manically intent on nabbing him. Less coherent are the machinations of the local crime boss (Don Cheadle) who is crazed about making Max an offer he can't refuse as inducted partner in crime. But the mix of criminal intrigue, humor, exotic slacking and animal attraction in After The Sunset are a classy recipe for stealing audience affections. RATING THREE.

Prairie Miller


KINSEY

It's hard to imagine that a movie about a real life fanatical sex scientist with a kinky
appetite for other people's secret appetites, would be anything but grotesque. But Bill
Condon pulls off this far fetched miracle with his somehow tastefully graphic biopic about
America's homegrown brand of sexual repression and sidebar sexual obsessions, in Kinsey.
A man of unyielding if peculiar self-assurance, Kinsey, played here by Liam Neeson, was
undaunted in his determination to tabulate every slightest lustful urge and gesture behind
closed bedroom doors across America, dragging them into the light of day and even to the
kitchen table as family dinner conversation. At least at his house. And while Kinsey's both
shocking and revealing data heralded him as a pioneer in the development of sex education
and sex therapy, there was also no doubt some uncharted voyeuristic tendencies of his own
that were channeled and satiated in this life pursuit, an affliction that many directors
themselves can surely relate to.
Riding the wave of optimism and liberating sentiments following WWII, Dr. Alfred
Kinsey moves on from zoology and a fascination with bugs, to an investigation into male
sexuality at Indiana University, and publication of his study, Sexual Behavior In The
Human Male. Kinsey is soon transformed into a pop idol, and the subject of editorial guy
talk, cartoons, and even a Cole Porter song. But when Kinsey branches out into an
investigation of female sexuality at a time that converged with the repressive McCarthyism
of the 1950s, he is abruptly demoted from media icon into martyr and outcast, a persecution
which he challenged but that ultimately contributed to his failing health and death.
Considering the frank subject matter of Kinsey, which is often just a step away from
veering into the lurid and sensationalistic, the film keeps everything delicately poised, tightly
controlled, and philosophically crisp and absorbing. And Kinsey's personal relationships with
his abusive preacher father (John Lithgow), doting when not confused and enraged wife
(Laura Linney), and student disciples turned occasional casual lovers, are always
satisfyingly elusive, volatile and supremely messy, just like real life.
Liam Neeson's formidable, multi-layered. award-worthy turn as Kinsey, is notable for
encompassing a man committed in the extreme to the uninhibited, matter of fact scrutiny of
sexuality, even if open and exposed like a wound. Yet whose very uncompromising
candidness seemed to serve as a protective mask, shielding and soothing his own flawed
nature and troubled family roots.
And Laura Linney, who goes all out mousy for Kinney's conflicted yet loyalist wife and
ally, attains something perhaps closer to sexual truth than Kinsey ever imagined. That is,
pinpointing the source of human passion, as her performance does, in the head and heart
rather than in human tissue. RATING: FOUR.