THEATRE / On Theatre

Monday 04 July 1994 23:02 BST
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The big screen is about to witness a veritable flock of angels, headed, of course, by Wim Wender's Faraway, So Close, or, as we known it in the trade, Moult, You Bastards, Moult. There's a remake of The Bishop's Wife on the way, with Denzel Washington as the cloud-borne messenger with the hots for the title character. Very unheavenly behaviour (besides, angels are supposed to be sexless or genital-free or something). Then there's a rumoured remake of It's a Wonderful Life, which means that if the picture gets to the starting gate, or even to St Peter's Gate, the role of Clarence is up for grabs. Let's think A-list: Joe Pesci. Or we could go younger - Rick Moranis. Or fatter: John Goodman. Nah. Think of the wingspan he'd need just to hover. . .

Oh poop. Let's not think about it. Only I guess we're obliged to. Well, when cinema has one of its outbreaks of demonic possession, the pundits jump on board and forecast the downfall of western civilisation. It's a mass spiritual crisis. Movies are glamourising the devil, making today's youth copy the evil they watch on screen. They see Linda Blair's head swivel 180 degrees in The Exorcist and suddenly everybody's doing it. You don't get to write that sort of tosh about a Paul Hogan turkey like Almost an Angel.

Anyway, what I want to know is this. If the possessed doll in Child's Play means we're all going to hell, then does Faraway, So Close mean salvation is at hand? Can we look forward to moral renewal and headlines like 'Teenager Helps Old Lady Across Busy Road' and 'Merry Christmas, War is Over'?

(Photograph omitted)

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