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By Rita Kempley
Washington Post Staff Writer
January 21, 1994


Mark Rydell
Richard Gere;
Sharon Stone;
Lolita Davidovich;
Martin Landau;
David Selby
sexual situations and partial nudity

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Richard Gere devotes his vast intellect to a pressing issue of the day in his new film "Intersection": Should he as an incredibly wealthy architect go back to his wife, Sharon Stone, or stay with his mistress, Lolita Davidovich? It's a question that ranks up there on the suspense-o-meter with "Paper or plastic?"

It all begins pleasantly enough as Vincent Eastman (Gere) appears to drive his sports car over a cliff and his inane life flashes back before his eyes. It seems that he was already at a crossroads in his life when he swerved to miss that vanload of hippies, which dissolves into his lover Olivia's (Davidovich's) bedroom. The nubile redhead arches greedily against Gere's receptive -- and somewhat pudgy -- loins.

More flashbacks reveal that he's become involved with the saucy magazine writer after the spark went out of his marriage to Sally (Stone), the mother of their perfect 13-year-old, Meghan (Jenny Morrison). With help from her wealthy and supportive family, they had founded a fabulously successful and ecologically correct design firm, Eastman & Eastman. It's tough on him, working with Sally one minute and rubbing against Olivia the next.

Martin Landau, who plays a close family friend and colleague, advises him to get his act together. He gets all misty-eyed, thinking about how he and the missus kept putting off that big trip to Europe. And, well, you know. Vincent thinks about almost having sex with his wife, then thinks about his daughter, then thinks some more about Olivia. There was the time they played charades in bed and he couldn't get "Tale of Two Cities" until she gave him the "sounds like" sign and pulled up her top. Oh, my, how they had laughed over that one.

While it's obvious that Sally ought to be the winner in terms of tact, beauty, taste and business acumen, she's not a fighter like Olivia. Then again maybe she is just sick of Vincent, a tiresome shilly-shallier who thinks of himself as the Michelangelo of Vancouver. Olivia, a tad desperate for a noted Northwestern feminist, gets drunk and confronts the Eastmans at the gala opening of a museum designed by their firm.

Sally is kind to her rival because women are invariably noble in this situation, as we all know. But Vincent is furious with Olivia. After dropping her off, he drives off into the rainy night for his meeting with destiny. Whom will he choose? Well, Lord knows, we don't want to spoil it for you if for some inexplicable reason you care to see this completely inane and inconsequential tale.

Mark Rydell, whose work ranges from "On Golden Pond" to "For the Boys," directs from a screenplay by David Rayfiel and Marshall Brickman, who were as short on good ideas as Gere was on characterization. Gere's idea of acting is to fling that silver mop of his around like a stallion desperate to sway mares. When it comes to "Intersection," just say neigh.

"Intersection" is rated R for sexual situations and partial nudity.

© Copyright 1999 The Washington Post Company

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