And not only heaven, but God, love, death, and hell -- as envisioned in archival film footage and man-on-the-street interviews. Actually, the men (and women) on the street have been taken off the street and put into Expressionistic sets, shadows, colored lights; and many of the film clips have been misappropriated and misapplied. People and clips alike are continually cut off and chopped up in the editing room, and the selection of them shows a distinct predilection for the odd -- or a predilection, at any rate, for alterations and transmutations into the odd. The person responsible for all this is Diane Keaton, whose editing style is not unlike the blurts and stammers of her acting style. She is credited as the director of the thing, but she is more like a hostess -- a hostess who wants also to be the life and soul of the party, and can't help but be the party pooper instead: nervous, fussy, fluttering, forever butting in, and finally a bloody damn bore. (1987) — Duncan Shepherd
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