The Forgotten

Ever since I saw Boogie Nights, I promised myself that I would see every movie in which Julianne Moore appears. A performance that slutty deserves nothing less. After watching her in The Forgotten, IÂ’ve started to question my loyalty. ItÂ’s one of those movies that make you wonder what and how much the cast smoked before signing on.

Moore plays Telly Paretta, a grief-stricken mother of 8-year-old Sam, whose plane disappear s on the way to summer camp. Fourteen months after the “accident,” Telly begins studying photos and videos of her son. Suddenly, he starts disappearing from family portraits and TellyÂ’s photo album pages go blank. ThatÂ’s when the bitch starts smashing picture frames while shouting “IÂ’m not crazy!” What better way to prove your sanity than to act like a total psycho? 

Things only get worse for her when everyone in her life, including her husband, Jim (Anthony Edwards), and shrink, Dr. Munce (Gary Sinise), claim that she never had a son. While Telly thinks there’s a vast conspiracy to suppress the truth, her hubby and doc suggest that a trauma has led her to construct memories of a non-existent child. If that were my mom, she would have been all like, “The hell I never had a son! I’ve got the stretch marks to prove I did! I went through 30 hours of labor, you bastard! My coochie still hurts, dammit!” By the way, I’ve got a lot of homies who pay child support that wish they could make their baby’s mommas believe that they never had a kid, but I digress.

While investigating what really happened to Sam, Telly meets Ash Correll (Dominic West), whose daughter was also on the vanished flight. Of course, he doesn’t remember having a kid, but Telly eventually helps him recall her existence. On their trail are the police and national security agents who are trying to capture Telly. Why? ‘Cause the man’s trying to keep us down! Those damned feds are after my ass all the time! I done told them I let my friend borrow my car. That wasn’t my stuff in the glove compartment!

Anyway, what started out as a great premise gets twisted into an “X-Files” knock-off. Seriously, I was looking for Mulder and Scully to walk in at any moment. Without saying what happens, just think little green men and anal probes. (No, I’m not talking about seasick gay midgets.) I hope that doesn’t spoil the ending for you. Actually, yes, I do. The fact is that I don’t want people to go see this stinker because of the amount of chronic required to make the filmmakers’ explanation plausible. The last thing I need is to pay more for my stash due to a run on the city’s supply. I’m already pissed about gas prices.

The only way anyone should watch The Forgotten is with a bunch of friends, rolling papers, and several pounds of the good stuff. Every time Julianne Moore yells “Sam!” everybody takes a hit. Halfway through the movie, you’ll be discussing the nature of the universe with Jim Morrison.

K.B. developed a deep appreciation for the cinema early in life, thanks to the inspirational works of Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong. Dude, you can reach out to him at