Review: The Widow of Turmeric Falls

I've always wanted to make a movie. I've also kind of always wanted to be a big-time movie critic. As neither of those dreams is likely to come true, I've decided to simply write a review of the movie that I would have made if I weren't such a loser. Here it is.

The Widow of Turmeric Falls, the first effort by novice writer/director Quasimofo, is a dismal and sordid work, full of promise and yet failing to deliver on virtually every level. The writing is pedestrian, filled with lines like, "Where's a good old fashioned bottle of whiskey when you need one?" and "He would have killed her if he had had the chance. But she was already dead. And so was he."

The film's elaborate premise should have been ample fodder for an intriguing psychological thriller: A mentally challenged man, long thought dead, returns to the site of his apparent murder only to be mistaken for his own killer. He is tried and executed by a jury of vigilante hillbillies in a sham trial occuring during Superbowl halftime. Years later, a woman claiming to be the man's wife shows up to seek her revenge, only to find that the ring-leader of the court is in fact her own father, as well as the father of the victim (and supposed murderer). Quasimofo tacks on some additional twists to keep us guessing, but unfortunately the "surprise" ending is telegraphed by an arty black and white montage occuring during the opening credits.

The camera work is amateurish, alternating inexplicably between a jittery hand held camera and a slightly less jittery camera attached to a long bamboo pole. The latter third of the film is essentially a Powerpoint Presentation, which drains the climax of much of its dramatic impact. The sound effects are excellent, but about ten minutes in I realized that Quasimofo had merely lifted the entire soundtrack from Apocalypse Now. The music is a combination of lousy Europop and what sounds like Aerosmith B-sides.

Quasimofo, who was known primarily for his extensive dental work prior to the release of this film, is mercifully absent from the cast. The lead is a physically unimpressive Filipino actor identified only as Kosmik XXX, who seems to be trying to channel early Brando, but sounds more like late Tony Danza with a bad head cold. Quasimofo's wife Julia is stunning in the female lead role, but there is no chemistry between the two actors -- a situation that is not helped by the fact that the director insisted that the two remain at least 50 feet apart in all scenes.

There is one enjoyable scene, in which the characters watch the episode of Seinfeld where Kramer gets a hot tub, but it's too little, too late. The rest of the movie makes you yearn for the early days of Quasimofo's career -- the days before he had actually made a film.

Does Quasimofo have a future as a filmmaker? That depends on how much money he has. He's not likely to earn much on this movie, so that's heartening. But dreams don't die easily, and a director with such vision is unlikely to see the writing on the wall. There is a rumor that "Widow II: Death Doesn't Take No for an Answer" is already in the works. And like it or not, it's my job to go see it.