The Price Of Air

2000, Movie, NR, 85 mins

Review

PRICE OF AIR, THE
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Had this astoundingly bad thriller been writer/director/star Josh Evans's first film, its irritating self-indulgence and total ineptitude might be excusable. The fact that it's actually his third feature means there's no excuse whatsoever. Evans, son of once powerful Paramount production head Robert Evans and actress Ali MacGraw, stars as a musician and all around stand-up guy who treats his girlfriend (Allison Lange) like dirt, refusing to wear a condom and then grudgingly offering to pony up half the dough for her abortion when she discovers she's pregnant. Her father (Dick Van Patten), meanwhile, is an Orange County, CA, bigwig with a restless wife (Michelle Phillips) and ties to Mr. Ball (Michael Madsen), a "businessman" with a Guatemalan factory in deep financial trouble. Mr. Ball has the idea to earn quick cash by flooding the ghetto streets with "blue," a highly addictive narcotic power straight from the Chilean desert, and hires Paul to pick up the shipment; Paul convinces his friend D (Sticky Fingaz) to ride shotgun. The deal goes down, then goes bad, leaving D dead and Paul with the blue and the money. Paul then holes up in a hotel with Anne (Carhis Michelsen), a part-time lesbian and aspiring porn actress; there, they snort up all the blue then flee into the Nevada desert, where they fall in love. Shot on video with a modicum of style (the blown-out colors and poor lighting complete the overall garbage aesthetic), the film is filled with long, obviously improvised pseudo-philosophical ramblings about nothing — and that's before the drugs kick in. English musician Goldie puts in an appearance as a character any audience member forced to endure this tedious mess can certainly identify with: A sinister black-market organ merchant who threatens to extract one of Evans's kidneys with a putty knife. leave a comment --Ken Fox

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The Price Of Air
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