Review: Date With an Angel
An accident sees angel Emmanuelle Beart plummeting
from the heavens and into the swimming pool of Michael E. Knight, giving her
broken wings as a result. While Knight helps the injured angel heal her wounds,
his rich fiancé Phoebe Cates discovers them together and thinks the worst.
Cates’ advertising exec father David Dukes (perfect casting) meanwhile, sees
dollar signs in the angel, as do Knight’s immature friends. For his part,
Knight starts to actually fall in love with the angel.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with the premise of
this 1987 hybrid of “Splash”, Frank Capra, and light 80s sex comedy. I
can see how someone might’ve thought it a really good idea for a film,
and perhaps it could’ve resulted in one. It’s just that the execution is really
quite poor in this instance. Written and directed by Tom McLoughlin (“Friday
the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives”, of all films), it’s good-looking
but dull, and so is leading man Michael E. Knight. Knight doesn’t bring much to
the table here. It’s also completely unfunny, though I felt much the same about
“Splash” I have to confess, and most people consider that a minor classic.
McLoughlin’s script is underdone and full of clichés
and stereotypes and the two major actresses here are appallingly served by the
script. A blonde Emmanuelle Beart (who looks much better as a brunette if you
ask me) has no chance in a practically mute role where she’s basically just an
image or object. It’s so bizarre and demeaning to see the very talented and
smouldering French actress playing a mute angel here when you look at the rest
of her perfectly fine career. Yes, she’s often an object of desire in other
films, but usually she gets a bit more to chew on (she was sensational in the
ultimately frustrating “Nathalie…”). Here it's pretty much impossible to
form a connection with the angel because she has no voice and no personality.
She’s a fantasy object, albeit a beautiful one. I needed more than that. Even
more poorly treated is poor Phoebe Cates. Every heterosexual male’s favourite
early-to-mid 80s crush (Damn you, Kevin Kline!) she’s stuck in a role that is
almost entirely comprised of being angrily jealous, screaming, or both at the
same time. She starts out likeable enough, but by the climax she has descended
into a shrieking, vengeful harpy. If it’s meant to be funny, the only time she
even remotely earns a chuckle is when she drunkenly puts her panties on over
her jeans. Think about that (and not in a pervy way). Meanwhile, The FX by Richard
Edlund (“Star Wars”, “Ghostbusters”, “Big Trouble in Little
China”) are fine for the time, but you’re gonna need to give me more
than just a pretty film with pretty people.
Although not an appalling film, this comedy-fantasy is
very short on the laughs and frankly a bit on the nose in its depiction of
female characters. A boring leading man doesn’t help. I can see why this one
was never particularly popular. Pretty though, in an overly soft focus kind of
way.
Rating: C-
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