Glimcher, Arne

Just Cause

Just Cause is a film that relies on phony plot twists and steals openly from any other thriller that it can remember. If there was a drinking game requiring players to drink during every cinematic "homage," you'd be tanked after Just Cause's first 45 minutes. Take one case of racial injustice, place it in an exotic, exquisitely photographed location (the Florida Everglades), and bring in an outsider, played by a bankable star, to save the day. Make sure nothing appears as it seems. Add a couple of plot twists, some over-the-top character actors (Ed Harris, shamelessly riffing on Hannibal Lecter), stir, and serve. The big name in this case is Sean Connery, who plays a Harvard law professor summoned to the swamps by an apparently innocent death row inmate (Blair Underwood), who swears he didn't rape and kill that 11-year-old girl. He says he confessed because maverick psycho-cop Tanny Brown (Laurence Fishburne) made him play a solo game of Russian roulette. He says his Serial-killer neighbor on death row (Harris) committed the crime. Connery buys it, the audience buys it, and how could they not? Director Arne Glimcher (who made the lackluster Mambo Kings) coerces everyone with simplistic plot manipulations. Characters are given no depth, and the actors are pawns moved about like pieces on a Clue gameboard. --Dave McCoy

The Mambo Kings

This period drama is hot, hot, hot. Stylish and sexy, it is adapted from the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love, by Oscar Hijuelos, the story of two brothers who flee from Cuba in the early 1950s, heading for New York. Hoping to make a name for themselves as famous musicians, the duo face hardships and painful discoveries along the way. Armand Assante is the older of the two, with a smoldering Antonio Banderas as his younger, more impetuous brother. (In his first English-speaking role, Banderas delivered all of his lines phonetically.) The pulsating, sweaty energy of the first half of the film is not sustained throughout. Partly this is because a movie about the rise and fall of minor celebrities has been done to death. Even when the action slows down, however, the story does not bore. There is too much sensuality and vitality exuded by both Assante and Banderas. --Rochelle O'Gorman

In the 1950s, two Cuban brothers come to America to seek fame and fortune as musicians.

White River

In White River, Bob Hoskins (of Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Mona Lisa) plays Brother Edgar, a con man in monastic garb, who pretends to be the spiritual leader of the Little Brothers of St. Mortimer, a Christian association devoted to blind youths. These boys supposedly make the brown and blue socks Edgar sells at assorted lumberjack and hog-calling festivals around Arkansas, accompanied by his illegal immigrant assistant, Morales (Antonio Banderas of The Mask of Zorro and Spy Kids). Their modest but comfortable scam is interrupted when they are hijacked by a young psychopath called the White River Kid (Wes Bentley of American Beauty) and his girlfriend Apple Lisa Weed (Kim Dickens of Hollow Man), who force Brother Edgar to drive them to Apple Lisa's home town to meet her parents. Before long, Edgar is reluctantly caught up in a web of political corruption and misguided good intentions as he hopes to redeem himself in the arms of a blind prostitute named Eva Nell (Ellen Barkin of The Big Easy and Drop Dead Gorgeous). White River was adapted from a book and suffers from trying to squeeze too much of a novel into the tighter confines of a film, but the remarkable cast (which also includes Beau Bridges, Swoozie Kurtz, and Randy Travis) make the most of their outrageously comic Southern gothic characters. --Bret Fetzer

The mismatched duo of Bob Hoskins as con man Brother Edgar and Antonio Banderas as his adopted sidekick drive across America selling "socks for God." Their monetary mission is interrupted when they are held hostage by "The White River Kid" (Wes Bentley), a legendary serial killer. An outrageous comedy with a heart.

Sean Connery Collection: Just Cause/The Man Who Would Be King/Outland

Just Cause [Region 2]

Just Cause is a film that relies on phony plot twists and steals openly from any other thriller that it can remember. If there was a drinking game requiring players to drink during every cinematic "homage," you'd be tanked after Just Cause's first 45 minutes. Take one case of racial injustice, place it in an exotic, exquisitely photographed location (the Florida Everglades), and bring in an outsider, played by a bankable star, to save the day. Make sure nothing appears as it seems. Add a couple of plot twists, some over-the-top character actors (Ed Harris, shamelessly riffing on Hannibal Lecter), stir, and serve. The big name in this case is Sean Connery, who plays a Harvard law professor summoned to the swamps by an apparently innocent death row inmate (Blair Underwood), who swears he didn't rape and kill that 11-year-old girl. He says he confessed because maverick psycho-cop Tanny Brown (Laurence Fishburne) made him play a solo game of Russian roulette. He says his Serial-killer neighbor on death row (Harris) committed the crime. Connery buys it, the audience buys it, and how could they not? Director Arne Glimcher (who made the lackluster Mambo Kings) coerces everyone with simplistic plot manipulations. Characters are given no depth, and the actors are pawns moved about like pieces on a Clue gameboard. --Dave McCoy

Just Cause [Region 2]

Just Cause is a film that relies on phony plot twists and steals openly from any other thriller that it can remember. If there was a drinking game requiring players to drink during every cinematic "homage," you'd be tanked after Just Cause's first 45 minutes. Take one case of racial injustice, place it in an exotic, exquisitely photographed location (the Florida Everglades), and bring in an outsider, played by a bankable star, to save the day. Make sure nothing appears as it seems. Add a couple of plot twists, some over-the-top character actors (Ed Harris, shamelessly riffing on Hannibal Lecter), stir, and serve. The big name in this case is Sean Connery, who plays a Harvard law professor summoned to the swamps by an apparently innocent death row inmate (Blair Underwood), who swears he didn't rape and kill that 11-year-old girl. He says he confessed because maverick psycho-cop Tanny Brown (Laurence Fishburne) made him play a solo game of Russian roulette. He says his Serial-killer neighbor on death row (Harris) committed the crime. Connery buys it, the audience buys it, and how could they not? Director Arne Glimcher (who made the lackluster Mambo Kings) coerces everyone with simplistic plot manipulations. Characters are given no depth, and the actors are pawns moved about like pieces on a Clue gameboard. --Dave McCoy

Just Cause [Region 2]

Just Cause is a film that relies on phony plot twists and steals openly from any other thriller that it can remember. If there was a drinking game requiring players to drink during every cinematic "homage," you'd be tanked after Just Cause's first 45 minutes. Take one case of racial injustice, place it in an exotic, exquisitely photographed location (the Florida Everglades), and bring in an outsider, played by a bankable star, to save the day. Make sure nothing appears as it seems. Add a couple of plot twists, some over-the-top character actors (Ed Harris, shamelessly riffing on Hannibal Lecter), stir, and serve. The big name in this case is Sean Connery, who plays a Harvard law professor summoned to the swamps by an apparently innocent death row inmate (Blair Underwood), who swears he didn't rape and kill that 11-year-old girl. He says he confessed because maverick psycho-cop Tanny Brown (Laurence Fishburne) made him play a solo game of Russian roulette. He says his Serial-killer neighbor on death row (Harris) committed the crime. Connery buys it, the audience buys it, and how could they not? Director Arne Glimcher (who made the lackluster Mambo Kings) coerces everyone with simplistic plot manipulations. Characters are given no depth, and the actors are pawns moved about like pieces on a Clue gameboard. --Dave McCoy