"Cavalleria Rusticana" has already served as background to Robert De Niro's
shadowboxing in "Raging Bull" and to Al Pacino's death in "Godfather III."
"Vissi d'Arte" has been all over the place, ditto for a little tune or two
from "The Flying Dutchman" and "Gotterdammerung."

But absolutely no one, ever, put all this together, segued from the
Intermezzo to "Voi lo sapete, o mama," choreographed on ice for Edward
Norton wearing a rhinoceros costume and leading 40 rhinettes in sparkly
suits, in front of 1,500 extras in the Maple Leaf Gardens.  And let's not
even get into the Nazi rally in the background and the fallen body of the
brain-damaged boxer, while on top of the stadium, Rainbow Randolph is
trying to stop the murderous Buggy Ding Dong from doing his evil thing.

I cannot really recommend Danny DeVito's "Death to Smoochy," but I am
really high on Elvis Stojko's musical climax thereto, "Smoochy on Ice."
Stojko choreographed this inspired lunatic piece and did the actual
skating, although you'd know that only from the credits - the illusion is
complete.

There are some other goodies in this occasionally funny Warner Bros.
"live-action cartoon," such as mob boss Harvey Fierstein's sorrow over
his thugs' mix-up of fuchsia with burgundy (although he is uncaring
about the wrong rhino getting killed), Robin Williams' incomprehension
of Norton's "fetish for ethics," Norton's childhood choice of playing
Chinese railroad workers when faced with the choice of cowboys and Indians,
and a pithy slogan at an Irish funeral, which cannot be repeated here.

In fact, almost no part of the dialogue can be quoted because Williams is
finally fusing his "earthy" nightclub routine with this appearance on the
silver screen.

Have you noticed how late in this account Williams' name popped up? The
reason for that - and for not recommending the whole film only the finale
(get it when it comes out on tape) - is Williams' failure to find either
his wonderfully funny persona or his equally impressive dramatic ability.
He is a foul-mouthed pin cushion for endless concussions here, neither
funny nor likeable or interesting.

What can you with a Robin Williams movie in which Williams stinks? Well,
how about Mascagni, Puccini and Wagner on ice? Bring in the musical clowns.

Janos Gereben/SF
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