Whoopi Goldberg's out of work actress spends the nights in her small apartment talking on the telephone to anyone who'll listen, her lifeline to the world and if not on the phone, entertaining the house guests; an owl and pet goldfish. That sums it up, really, that's it.
"THE TELEPHONE" directed by Rip Torn is executed like a stage-play, relying on Goldberg's presence; eccentric comic ability, interactions with her pets (foot bathing with a goldfish) and minor exchanges with a couple of actors (Severn Darden, Elliott Gould & John Heard). It's so random, almost improvised that you don't know where it's heading. You can say it's ambitious, even alienating. Once it hits the apartment, we can hear what's happening outside (traffic, voices, music), but that's where the camera stays, as we watch Goldberg ramble on until the cows come home. From trivial normality issues, venting or making low-brow jokes on the telephone, deciphering messages on the answering machine to stand-up comedy routines of impersonating nationalities, changing personas, watching footage of her standup comedy and even loudly acting out more than one person at the same time to annoy her complaining neighbors. Zany comic monologues after monologues after monologues, it's like watching someone bored out of their mind. Sex gags, toilet humour and stereotypical race jokes, but without an ounce of wit.
The one-idea concept while offbeat grows tiresome and at times crude. I didn't find it all that humorous, just bemused by it all. You don't learn that much about her character, head space wise, until she's around people in separate cameos of Darden, Gould (along with Amy Wright) and especially Heard. Her scenes at the end with Heard's telephone man is the poignant hook, as it can be both funny and sad, jarringly so, in what we learn of her obsession with the telephone.
"THE TELEPHONE" directed by Rip Torn is executed like a stage-play, relying on Goldberg's presence; eccentric comic ability, interactions with her pets (foot bathing with a goldfish) and minor exchanges with a couple of actors (Severn Darden, Elliott Gould & John Heard). It's so random, almost improvised that you don't know where it's heading. You can say it's ambitious, even alienating. Once it hits the apartment, we can hear what's happening outside (traffic, voices, music), but that's where the camera stays, as we watch Goldberg ramble on until the cows come home. From trivial normality issues, venting or making low-brow jokes on the telephone, deciphering messages on the answering machine to stand-up comedy routines of impersonating nationalities, changing personas, watching footage of her standup comedy and even loudly acting out more than one person at the same time to annoy her complaining neighbors. Zany comic monologues after monologues after monologues, it's like watching someone bored out of their mind. Sex gags, toilet humour and stereotypical race jokes, but without an ounce of wit.
The one-idea concept while offbeat grows tiresome and at times crude. I didn't find it all that humorous, just bemused by it all. You don't learn that much about her character, head space wise, until she's around people in separate cameos of Darden, Gould (along with Amy Wright) and especially Heard. Her scenes at the end with Heard's telephone man is the poignant hook, as it can be both funny and sad, jarringly so, in what we learn of her obsession with the telephone.