Rosalie Goes Shopping

Although there are a whole legion of Percy Adlon fans out there who dearly loved his Bagdad Cafe, I cannot number myself one. I liked Rosalie Goes Shopping even less. Marianne Saegebrecht, a huge, rotund, German woman, around whom all of Adlon's films are built, stars as Rosalie, an emigrant who is determined to live the American Dream--even if it means maxing out all 37 of her credit cards. Her husband (Brad Davis) is a moronic, and totally oblivious, cropduster who only cares about flying. Her seven children all have individual eccentricities--and some shared by the family in general (such as watching commercials on television and reciting the lines as a group). As Rosalie alters checks, steals from her kids' savings accounts, and eventually starts up her own dummy corporation on her daughter's computer, she also makes sure to visit her local priest (Judge Reinhold) after every crime to confess her sins. As a satire, Rosalie breaks the one golden rule: you have to keep one foot on the ground to make it plausible. Throwing logic and continuity to the wind, Rosalie soars in whatever random direction it feels like taking--with one self-indulgent scene after another. It's a complete mystery to me how a director who consistently demonstrates that he knows next to nothing about film (he reminds me of a benign John Waters) can keep making pointless movies featuring a woman whose astoundingly wooden acting makes Kris Kristofferson look like Olivier, and still get good reviews. Rent this one from the video store; if you make it past the first fifteen minutes and want to continue, chances are you and I will never be good friends. Not recommended. (R. Pitman)