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Study of the Id by the Odd
After single handedly trying to genocide
the galt wasp by sticking pins through the heads of nearly a million
of these little, innocent creatures, Dr Kinsey decides to move on to
humans and becomes the first major scientific sex researcher "to
help people" ...and give himself the excuse he needs to start sticking
pins into his own genitals and needles full of barbituates in his arm.
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In Hollywood's mindless quest for unsung heros,
it is becoming almost insulting to those who really were. Having made
his name as Oscar Schindler, the German industrialist who lost it all
to save hundreds of Jews from the death camps, Liam Neeson's role of
Kinsey is almost insulting, as he wanders about the screen looking like
a Dachau inmate who just missed the train to the gas chamber. Whilst
FBI boss, Hoover was bumping off Marilyn Monroe, President Jack Kennedy
and his brother, Kinsey is forced to suffer the torment of a few months
without funding for his sex reseach project and a press that gives him
a couple of bad headlines. Is this a man who died for his beliefs? Hardly!
With Liam's background in boxing, just like Bob Hope, the whole project
closely ressembles a Bing Crosby "on the road" flick without
the humour, the singing or the entertainment.
Curiously, if the film is correct, all
Kinsey's research was clearly flawed for the whole basis of scientific
research is one of objectivity, yet the widespread involvement of his
own staff in his homemade "research" pornos and personal involvement
runs exactly against this. Likewise, his insistence that no-one should
ever be forced to do anything they did not want to lays bare his own
hypocracy as he pushes his grieving father into a good grilling about
his habit of mastubating as a boy straight after the funeral of his
beloved wife. Central to the Kinsey doctrine was that the demands of
society were often at odds with one's own natural bodily desires and
curiously, I experienced this first hand as I sat in my cinema seat:
whilst I knew that I had to stay there to the end of the film so as
to be able to complete this review, my body desparately yearned to run
out of the theatre and on down the road screaming to escape this meandering
tosh as fast as possible. Backed up with a travel montage that could
have come out of a Fred Astaire dance flick of the 1930's and the sort
of music that usually accompanies silent films, the movie would be funny
if it weren't so unwatchably dull and tediously plotless. The 118 minutes
of watching some old weirdo in a bow tie thumping on and on about how
society doesn't understand how important it is to allow people to sleep
with a donkey, interspaced with grainy footage of wrinkly senior citizens
doing hardcore pornos feels like someone walking over one's grave.
How a production team could generate such
an intensely boring movie out of sex beats me. Maybe in place of director
BILLY CONDON, they would have been better using WILLY CONDOM and stopped
it before it began.
...And as for an ending, there isn't on,
it just stops ...at least one blessing there!
Porno for hardened machocists only
Film Critic: - Robert L Thompsett
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