“I think… no, I am positive… that you are the most unattractive man I have ever met in my entire life. You know, in the short time we’ve been together, you have demonstrated every loathsome characteristic of the male personality and even discovered a few new ones. You are physically repulsive, intellectually retarded, you’re morally reprehensible, vulgar, insensitive, selfish, stupid, you have no taste, a lousy sense of humor and you smell. You’re not even interesting enough to make me sick.”
You wanna talk about an eclectic career? In the 60s, George Miller was a doctor, in the late 70s, he decided to become a film maker, and made one of the most iconic Australian movies of all time, Mad Max. In the years since, he’s made hugely successful, family friendly franchises, like Babe and Happy Feet, prestige stuff like The Year My Voice Broke and Lorenzo’s Oil. And just this year, at 70 bloody years old, he pretty much redefined what action movies can be, with Mad Max: Fury Road. But amongst that wide ranging career, one movie stands out as the most perplexing to me. A silly little 80s piece of puff about love, loneliness and the devil. A movie called The Witches of Eastwick.
In the sleepy, idyllic town of Eastwick, three local broads have a problem. A lack of man problem. Alexandra (Cher) is a single mother of one, after the death of her husband. Jane (Susan Sarandon) is a single mother of none after her inability to have kids lead to a divorce. While Sukie (Michelle Pfeiffer) is a single mother of six after her husband ran off. One night, over a few wines, the three women wish for the perfect man to save them from singledom. The next day, an eccentric millionaire arrives in town, buying a mysterious local mansion that has been empty for years. (more…)