Cast: Michael Polish, Mark Polish, Michele Hicks, Lesley Ann Warren, Patrick Bauchau, Jon Gries, Garrett Morris, William Katt
Director: Michael Polish
Producers: Marshall Persinger, Rena Ronson, Steven J. Wolfe
Screenplay: Michael Polish, Mark Polish
Cinematography: M. David Mullen
Music: Stuart Matthewman
U.S. Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
With Twin Falls, Idaho, first time filmmaker Michael Polish has taken on a formidable task. The story he's telling, which explores the relationship between two adult conjoined twins, includes so many facets and poses so many questions that no movie of a reasonable length could possibly address everything. So we get a sampling of the issues and challenges faced by Francis and Blake Falls (Polish and his identical - but not conjoined - twin, Mark). However, by opting to apply a relatively straightforward approach, Polish leaves a great deal of potentially dramatic material untapped. Nevertheless, while Twin Falls, Idaho contains its share of missteps, the subject matter is compelling enough to keep an audience involved for the entire running length. In fact, one could argue that the story is starting to get really interesting when the movie ends.
Francis and Blake are literally joined at the hip. And, although they share a leg and several internal organs, each has his own heart. Francis', the weaker of the two, is failing. For the time being, it is only Blake's heart, pumping blood through their shared circulatory system, that's sustaining them both. It's at this point, when the twins are preparing to face death together, that Penny (Michele Hicks) enters their lives. She's a prostitute ordered by Francis as a birthday gift, but, when she sees the nature of her clients' disability, she flees. She eventually returns and helps Blake care for Francis, who has become ill. In the process, she and Blake fall in love, leaving Francis feeling jealous and excluded. For the first time, the person with whom he has shared everything is involved in something he cannot experience.
Some might credit Twin Falls, Idaho for sticking to the "high road" and largely ignoring sexual issues. I'm not sure this is a good thing, however, since sex is automatically one of the first things people wonder about when considering the case of adult Siamese twins. Twin Falls, Idaho takes a naïve stance, remaining resolutely mum about this subject. Despite being a prostitute, Penny doesn't have sex with either of brothers, and, for their part, the twins seem almost asexual. Although Francis ordered Penny's services, he doesn't appear taken aback when she leaves, and neither he nor Blake exhibits anything close to a sexual impulse.
On the other hand, while questions about sex are routinely ignored, issues of intimacy are confronted head-on. The closest bond is obviously the one between the two brothers, and this is explored in detail. Penny becomes a catalyst. Blake likes her; Francis resents her, and this creates friction. We see the brothers struggle (both physically and emotionally) as they wonder what it would be like if they were individuals instead of one. Resentment rears its head. And, despite the constant presence of Francis, Blake still knows the taste of loneliness. "I'm lonely two minutes each day," he confesses to Penny at one point. "The minute I wake up and the minute I fall asleep."
The strength of the subject matter allows us to forgive, if not ignore, several flaws in the production's structure. Aside from Francis and Blake, we aren't given any multidimensional characters to latch onto. Penny is pleasant to look at, but her purpose is to generate conflict. She's a plot device, and lacks more than a token unique identity. The same is true of the other "colorful" individuals drifting in and out of the story. The most disappointing of all is Francis and Blake's mother, Francine (played by Lesley Ann Warren), who has been wracked by guilt since giving the pair up for adoption shortly after their births. The perfunctory manner in which this character is developed, coupled with her lack of screen time, makes Francine's motivations difficult to accept.
Polish goes overboard with obvious and heavy-handed symbolism, and this lack of subtlety becomes tiring. Early in the film, the camera captures a television screen displaying the title card for "A Tale of Two Cities." Later, at a Halloween party, we witness the physical separation of a couple who have arrived dressed as Siamese twins - all they have to do is untie the laces that connect their costumes. (Not so easy in real life, is it?) Finally, there's a painful lecture about how a $2 bill, once torn in half, is worthless.
Unsurprisingly, the most intriguing performances are those of the Polish brothers, who have been close for their entire lives, although not as close as Blake and Francis. The physical connection is the result of an unimpressive prosthesis, but it's only shown in one scene - the rest of the time, the conjoining flesh is covered by clothing. Michael and Mark both exhibit solid acting ability, and an aspect of their real-life bond comes across on screen. Most impressively, despite the budget constraints that did not allow them to use high-tech manipulation to create the Siamese twin effect, they pull it off convincingly. Meanwhile, Michele Hicks acquits herself adequately in her feature debut. A fashion model by trade, she brings energy to the part of Penny - the only downside to the performance is that it lacks polish. Lesley Ann Warren, Patrick Bauchau (as a doctor brought in by Penny to evaluate Francis' condition), Jon Gries (as a smarmy lawyer who envisions turning the twins into a media sensation), and Garrett Morris (as a preacher named Jesus) have small parts.
It's hard to imagine any potential move-goer not being intrigued by the subject matter presented in Twin Falls, Idaho. And, while the finished product occasionally falls short of the richness hinted at by the premise, it represents an ambitious first effort. The storyline offers an unusual look at the motion picture love triangle and offers a minimally manipulative tearjerker ending. Combining these plot elements with a dreamlike style (facilitated by a haunting score and dim lighting), Michael Polish has fashioned an intriguing film that offers something for viewers now and the promise of better things to come the next time he goes behind a camera.
© 1999 James Berardinelli