Don't bother inviting any guys for movie night when you rent Moonlight and Valentino; it's a major chic fest. If you liked Fried Green Tomatoes, Steel Magnolias, and Beaches, you'll love it. That being said, I didn't like either of those three, and I still loved it.

It focuses on two sisters, a stepmother, and a friend - an unusual bunch that's bound together, but with great chemistry and ties that are interesting and realistic. I could have easily watched two or three more movies featuring the same group of women and not grown bored. Elizabeth Perkins is the older sister and role model to Gwyneth Paltrow. She's married, a college poetry teacher, and stable. Gwyneth is an insecure college student with anorexia, who smokes to be cool, and has never seen herself nude. She's a very interesting character, and while much is explored and dealt with in two hours, I would have loved to see more. Whoopi Goldberg is Elizabeth's best friend, suffering through marital troubles with Peter Coyote. Kathleen Turner is the proverbial wicked stepmother, according to Gwyneth, but she desperately wants to be close to the two girls in her life. When Elizabeth's husband dies in an accident, the girls rally around her to help with grief and moving on.

Some parts of this movie have pure humor, like when Jon Bon Jovi comes to the house to appraise a paint job and Kathleen Turner compliments his derriere. Some scenes are extremely heavy, like when Elizabeth sobs and reveals a big fight she had with her husband before he died. In one scene, Elizabeth doesn't want anyone to touch her because she's in shock, and a few minutes later she's talking about a cute leather jacket rather than focus on her grief. In other words, it's a very realistic movie. With any group of friends, there's going to be a difference in temperaments that set patterns throughout the years. Gwyneth repeatedly insults Kathleen, but rather than get in a big blow-up fight like in a soap opera, Kathleen merely smiles her pain away and lets the young girl get away with it. Whoopi always puts her best friend first, so it makes sense that we see the resentment building up through the scenes.

Each actress (and to be fair, the few men in the movie as well) has her own moment of brilliance throughout the film. This movie isn't nearly as famous as other friendship flicks in the 1980s and 1990s, but it's one of my favorites. If you don't want to rent it for the acting, at least rent it for the eye candy. I'm sure every girl would break the 'don't date a guy with longer hair than you' rule for Bon Jovi.

A recently widowed woman (Elizabeth Perkins) tries to cope with the help of her baby sister (Gwyneth Paltrow),ex-stepmother (Kathleen Turner) and best friend (Whoppi Goldberg). Talky but fascinating. All the actresses give great performances with Perkins getting top honors--she's just fantastic in a difficult role. All the characters come across as believable and interesting. The script is great too--they talk and act like real people. Nice soundtrack too. Some may deride this as a "chick flick", but I'm a guy and I loved it! Two (minor) quibbles--Jon Bon Jovi is pretty bad as a painter. He's unattractive, not in shape and pretty wooden. It's no surprise his acting career has gone nowhere. And the ending at the cemetery seemed a little overdone but it still works. But, like I said, these are minor complaints. Well worth seeing.

Rebecca Lott, a thirtysomething. college lecturer, is widowed when her husband Ben is killed by a car while jogging. The rest of the film is taken up with Rebecca endlessly talking over her emotional problems with her younger sister Lucy, her best friend Sylvie and her former stepmother Alberta. There are subplots about Lucy's romance with Stephen, one of Rebecca's students, and Rebecca's brief romance with a handsome young man hired to paint her house. The film ends with the four women performing a bizarre quasi-pagan ritual designed to help Rebecca cope with her grief. And that's it.

The film is what used to be called a "woman's picture", but with one major difference. The traditional "woman's picture" had as its primary character a strong female figure, with the male characters as secondary ones, defined in terms of their relationship to her. Here the primary character is the rather passive figure of Rebecca, with Lucy, Sylvie and Alberta as the secondary ones and the male characters, insofar as we see them at all, vague tertiary ones. The film-makers are, essentially, trying to make a film about the romantic and emotional lives of a group of heterosexual women while airbrushing men out of the picture as far as possible. Ben never appears (his death is announced right at the beginning of the film),and Rebecca and Lucy's father Thomas only appears briefly. (Their mother Joanna died from cancer fourteen years earlier). Stephen is a minor character and Sylvie's husband Paul an even more minor one, although we learn that their marriage is an unhappy one. The nearest thing to a major male character is The Painter, and it is noteworthy that we never learn his name and that he is played not by a professional actor but by a rock star with virtually no previous acting experience.

The result is that the film ends up devoid of any dramatic conflict or tension. The nearest we get is the suggestion that the two sisters, especially Lucy, resent their stepmother for usurping their mother's role in their lives. Yet we do not sense from the film itself that Alberta, who is supposed to be a hard-bitten career woman, has done anything that might provoke resentment; indeed, she treats the sisters with great kindness, doing far more to console Rebecca, who was only briefly her stepdaughter, in her bereavement than does her father. Stephen Holden of the New York Times, called the film "a genteel, buttoned-up soap opera", which strikes me as being unfair to soap operas, much as I dislike that particular genre. "Moonlight and Valentino" is around four times the length of an episode of most British soaps, and any scriptwriter for "Coronation Street" or "East Enders" would soon find themselves out of a job if they wasted four entire episodes with as little drama or action as is included in the 105 minutes of this film.

I watched this film when it was recently shown on television largely because the cast included two actresses I had admired in other films, Gwyneth Paltrow in "Sylvia" and Kathleen Turner in films like "The Accidental Tourist" and "Serial Mom". Unfortunately, it turned out to be a big disappointment to me, which was not really the fault of Paltrow, Turner and the two other leading actresses, all of whom gave the impression that they could do much more with better material. (Although if Whoopi Goldberg wants to be taken seriously as a serious actress as opposed to a comedienne, she might consider getting rid of her childish stage name. Naming herself after a whoopee cushion was not perhaps her greatest career move).

Instead the fault lies with the script, based on a play by Ellen Simon, who unfortunately does not seem to have inherited the dramatic talents of her more famous father Neil, and with David Anspaugh's direction. Roger Ebert described it as "very sincere, very heartfelt and very bad", a judgement from which I would not dissent, although I would also add very tasteful, very sensitive and incredibly boring. The whole thing is done with the sort of excruciatingly ghastly good taste that makes you long for someone to say or do something tasteless just to relieve the monotony of four people sitting round being nice to one another. 4/10