The Big Others

THE PERVERT'S GUIDE TO IDEOLOGY (B) - I would need several more viewings to even hazard an inspired guess as to what pop philosopher Slavoj Zizek is trying to impart to those of us of ordinary intelligence. In this follow-up to his and Sophie Fiennes' "Pervert's Guide to Cinema" (2006), Zizek again riffs on Hollywood's broad messages in order to put forth a grand discourse on ideology, capitalism and governmental control.

Fiennes places Zizek in replicas of sets of films like "Taxi Driver" and "Titanic," and the effect is endlessly amusing. Zizek spends much time explaining the Big Other, the stand-in for God in godless communist states. Other times he's riffing on romantic relationships. My favorite theory: that the Titanic's crash into the iceberg was actually a boon to Rose and Jack, because it saved them from the inevitable relationship stasis that would have set in after a few weeks of whirlwind romance and allowed her to idealize her dead lover through the years.

I can't analyze the content here with any authority. Hell, even my philosopher pal with the big brain took the Fifth afterward and called for a transcript in order to step into the ring with the Slovenian Slugger.

You let this tsunami of intellect wash over you and you try to keep up with Zizek's dialectic as if you are gasping for air, grasping for recognizable concepts as if they are lifelines. It's like a mind-altering drug; you walk out of the theater exhilarated and a little wasted, and eventually your mind snaps back into its pedantic place.

ISHTAR (D+) - I've always been curious about this classic stinker starring Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty as songwriters getting caught up in CIA intrigue in northern Africa, and what better way to appreciate it than on the cornball channel THIS-TV, commercials and all.

At times this has brief flashes of the brilliance of writer/director Elaine May -- for instance, in a quirky throwaway line here and there, particularly with Hoffman's awkward, deadpan delivery . Charles Grodin arrives as a CIA operative, trying to rescue the film but failing miserably.

This might have worked when it was released during the VHS era. At that time, the Hope-Crosby road movies were as much in its rearview mirror as "Ishtar" now is in ours. May presents it as cheesy homage to old movies -- with pure slapstick, including shtick with a blind camel -- but it now plays as painfully out of date and as out of tune as Beatty and Hoffman trilling their horrible tunes (which were carefully crafted by Paul Williams). Maybe this would have had a chance with some lesser known actors giving it their all rather than a couple of lazy stars phoning it in and fearful of bombing.

By the final reel, this farce completely unravels, and it all seems rather sad. No one stood up to tell May and her cast that they were making a bad movie.