Hideaway

Maybe it's because 1995 was my peak year (don't ask), but I seem to dig everything that was churned out in said year.  True, '95 was the last time I remember being 100% happy.  No real cares.  But that couldn't be it, could it?  I apologize for imbuing this review with notes of dismal despondency, but it's something I did wonder.  Is it a coincidence that I can even find leniency in my heart for The Mangler and Jack-O?  1995, folks.  It's a chronological set of beer goggles for yours truly.  I may not drink, but if your film was released during that precious span of time, I will go home with it.  Inhibitions?  Fuck it; I'm spreading.

I felt compelled to address the reputations of both Hideaway and its year of origin.  I was a kid when this quasi-medical thriller hit theaters, so I had no idea how it was received.  Well, blow me down!  SIDENOTE: Do you think Olive Oyl was sexually satisfied?  I can totally see Popeye as a well-meaning, yet selfish lover.  Perhaps delicate.  In my opinion, Olive fancied being plowed by the brusque, discourteous Bluto.  He would risk snapping her goddamn spine in the heat of the moment.  Yeah, she loved pain.  AHEM.  I didn't realize that the majority of moviegoers held Hideaway in disfavor.

Based on a Dean Koontz novel (the author hated it, too), our yarn begins...you know what?  I don't want to write a synopsis.  There is no need to dilate the plot with a verbose pandect or dramatize what is already dramatic dramaturgy.  I'll give you the sum and substance of it.  Jeff Goldblum plays Hatch, a poor bastard with a psychic link to a serial killer.  Turns out, the bastard and the killer were resuscitated by the same doctor.  Alicia Silverstone is here to be jailbait in distress.  I was okay with ogling her, as she was legal at the onset of principal photography.  I did the fucking research.  Don't look at me.

Honestly, I was entertained by Hideaway.  The climax slips up, but it was still entertaining.  I'm referring to the godawful special effects.  Director Brett Leonard also helmed 1992's The Lawnmower Man, and yes, the visuals are similar.  Egads.  Digital blotches appear in the first act as well.  The shit resembles diabetic retinopathy.  Macular degeneration?  Strabismus?  I'm citing a list of eye disorders; pick your favorite.  Leonard manages to build tension in spots.  I didn't want bad stuff to happen to Jeff Gol--Hatch.  I didn't want tragedy to befall Hatch, so that's a point for Hideaway.

Now, was I invested in atch because he looked and sounded a lot like Jeff Goldblum?  It's a fair question to ask, but no!  I wasn't.  Actually, I thought that Lindsey (Hatch's wife, as portrayed by Christine Lahti) was the more empathetic character.  For whatever reason, the ticks and quirks one associates with Goldblum are dialed down.  I'm willing to accept that I'm wrong, but to me, his performance suggests temperance.  It's as if he's either bored or restrained.  By all means, it's a strong showing.  This is Jeff Goldblum I'm fellating, for the love of Christ.

Goodness me, I haven't mentioned Jeremy Sisto's exquisite turn as Vassago.  What a villainous name!  He's sly and fiendish, yet vulnerable when the role calls for it.  Do I understand how Vassago is alive?  Not really, but the slack story didn't get in the way of my enjoyment.  Hideaway is a popcorn movie.  It tries to be classy and airtight, but popcorn.  Buttery.  Do they still make Blasto Butter popcorn?  Robert Z'Dar says, "I fucked Olive in the 70's.  Cut her in half with my dick."