M O V I E S Two Girls and a Guy Written and directed by James Toback Starring Robert Downey Jr., Heather Graham and Natasha Gregson Wagner - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ALSO THIS WEEK Sliding Doors Gwyneth Paltrow misses her train and forever alters her life in this romantic comedy Sour Grapes "Seinfeld" co-creator's big-screen dud - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - LAST WEEK Nightwatch Dark, dank, disgusting, sadistic and no fun at all: It's the perfect post-"Seven" thriller Wayne Wang Thinking outside the "Chinese Box" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Blue Glow DAILY TV PICKS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - RECENTLY A full list of recent reviews, interviews and table talk. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - BROWSE THE ARCHIVES MOVIES TELEVISION INTERVIEWS FEATURES

TWO GIRLS AND A GUY | PAGE 2 OF 2 For all of Toback's ability to get inside the head of a character like Blake, he shows here, as he has in every movie since "Exposed," his invariable sensitivity to his female characters. Toback's treatment of Carla and Lou turns one cliché after another on its head. Discovering that they share a boyfriend, the women neither compete with each other nor unite to get revenge. Discovering they like each other, they become friends. Their rapport makes sweet sense. And it reflects the openness and curiosity with which young women seem to be acknowledging and pursuing their sexual lives right now. Wagner's Lou, with her short pixie shag of dark hair and a smile that creases her face, is a funky little street sprite. There are no roadblocks between her impulses and how she expresses them. She's both a chatterbox and restlessly physical. Lou doesn't hesitate to tell off a creep who tries to pick her up or to stop in the midst of her confrontation with Blake and dance around the loft. Lou is street-smart but also open to a degree that leaves her vulnerable. She can't resist comparing herself to Carla, who's got more poise, more reserves of self-protection, and the poignancy of Wagner's performance is in the fact that Lou senses the ephemerality of Blake's attraction to her. Graham's Carla, on the other hand, is the sort of woman men let go and spend the rest of their lives haunted by. Until now, directors have looked at Graham and seen a milk-fed madonna, willowy haired and full-lipped. She's tended to be cast as sweet young things (you could even say that of Rollergirl in "Boogie Nights"). Toback goes further with her than any director yet has. As Graham plays her (in her best performance to date), Carla is astonishingly self-possessed and assured, a woman who makes men realize that they will have to live up to her. When she first makes her presence in the loft known to Blake, without letting on that she's found out about Lou, Carla is an apple-cheeked Sphinx. She allows Blake to entangle himself in more and more half-truths as she regards him with a coolly amused smile. Graham captures the mixture of brains, beauty and confidence that attracts men and scares the hell out of them at the same time. The scene where Carla and Blake steal away for sex (while Lou eavesdrops) is one of the few movie sex scenes since "Last Tango in Paris" to deal with sex as a leveling ground where each party asserts his or her power. But I don't want to give the impression the sequence is some theoretical or ideological demonstration. Shot in muted light in a room lined by Japanese screens, with Carla and Blake's half-clothed state adding to the furtive nature of the whole encounter, this is also one of the most arousing scenes in any American movie. It's a scene that makes you realize how American filmmakers shy away from anything like real sex, and it held up the movie's release for months while Toback submitted it 14 times to the MPAA Appeals Board, trying to get the original NC-17 rating reduced to an R. (Toback, who refused to delete shots, merely trimmed them until the board, using some unexplained rationale, decreed the film an R.) The open secret of Toback's movies is that he genuinely likes the people he puts on-screen, the actors as well as the characters they play. "Two Girls and a Guy" is the first time Toback has fully realized those impulses in terms of his technique. Beautifully shot by Barry Markowitz in the muted tones of winter daylight, the movie is nonetheless alive to the warmth of the actors' flesh. The improvisational structure Toback employs (the movie was shot in sequence over a course of 11 days) frees up the actors, and Alan Oxman's editing is among the most sensitive to performance rhythms that I've ever seen. In a diary that Toback published in the film journal Projections in 1995, he reflected on writing characters who were increasingly younger than he is, pinpointing "a longing to relive through the newer, fresher, younger incarnation excitements available through personal magnetism." There's a simpler reason for a filmmaker to concern himself with young people: They're the most direct link to now. That's what (quite apart from his sympathy with his characters' politics) Jean-Luc Godard discovered in movies like "Masculin-féminin" and "La Chinoise." Watching a picture populated by young characters that manages to capture the sensibility of its moment is exciting in a unique way. Those movies leave you feeling plugged in, energized, able to make sense of the world outside the theater as you watch what's on-screen. I've felt that excitement strongest recently at "Trainspotting" and "Chasing Amy." And I felt it watching "Two Girls and a Guy." It's the exhilaration of sensing that the people on-screen are breathing the same air as those of us in the audience. SALON | April 24, 1998  Charles Taylor is a regular contributor to Salon.