The Center of the World (2001)
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as Richard Longman
as Brian Pivano
as Taxi Driver
as Lap Dancer
as Pandora Stripper
as Porn Site Woman
as Dog Owner
as Old Man
as Motel Manager
as Pandora Stripper
as Delivery Man
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Critic Reviews for The Center of the World
There's something numbingly predictable about Wang's whole approach.
Enough to send you running from the theater, yawning.
...rings with a perfectly hollow pitch that's a digital video punch to the solar plexus.
Utilizando o sexo como ponte para estudar seus personagens, o diretor Wayne Wang cria um filme interessante, mas não totalmente satisfatório.
Audience Reviews for The Center of the World
A rich computer nerd brings a stripper to Vegas and tries to get her to fall in love with him.
I'm surprised by this film's weak story and slowly moving plot. At the helm is Wayne Wang, and among the film's four writers are Paul Auster and Miranda July. These are all strong talents; perhaps there were too many cooks in the kitchen.
What's troubling about the film is that we get such a concentration on character, but none of the real questions are answered. Why does Richard become so obsessive? Why does Florence break the rules? Where is the line between sexual obsession and love for these characters, and how do they determine it? These aren't minor issues; rather, they're at the heart of whatever the hell the film is saying. Additionally, Jerri wanders into the story on her way to another film.
Overall, despite the wealth of talent that went into the film, it's unfortunate that the result is not a sum of its parts.
A very modern, somewhat disquieting look at sex and relationships in the modern world.
Depressing as hell and rather self-contained, The Center of the World is a dull, dreary story, shot on the cheap with an ugly, hyper-real aesthetic but a somewhat unbelievable starting point. Richard, a successful but socially inadequate computer engineer, meets Molly, a drummer in an aspiring rock group, iand decides to talk to her. Molly (very) soon tells him that for money, she works in a strip club, and one night he goes there to meet her and gets a lap dance. Apparently under pressure from his friends to 'get laid' (well, there's one scene anyway), he offers Molly a substantial amount of money if she spends a three-day weekend with him in Las Vegas. Of course, eventually she agrees, though inevitably there are conditions: she's only 'his' from 10 PM until 2 AM, there's no kissing on the mouth, and definitely no penetration. Guess what happens? The bleak ending is a bit disrespectful to one of the characters, but is certainly powerful, and the strong sex scenes are far more effective than say, those in 9 Songs. Though there's really no new ground covered here, writer Ellen Benjamin Wong and director Wayn Wang clearly have good intentions, and what elevates this into watchable, sometimes perceptive territory is the stunning lead performance from Peter Sarsgaard (and to a lesser extent, the performance by Molly Parker). Whenever films are shot on hand-held camcorders/home-video equipment, something about the way it looks highlights that people are acting. It all looks too 'fake' and static, mannerisms become exaggerated and it becomes quickly obvious that the whole thing is, well, fictitious. But Sarsgaard is never anything less than utterly believable; he is supernaturally talented here - there's no artifice, and though the entire film is really quite underwritten, his is the only character here who feels like he has lived before the film starts and will continue to live after it is over.
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