Love Ranch fooled me but good. For some reason, I was picturing a raucous, raunchy comedy about a legal brothel run by Joe Pesci and Helen Mirren. But it's not really that way at all; no, this is a standard-issue melodrama about an abusive misogynist who runs his part of the world, his steely wife who runs the business side of the things, and the hapless pro boxer who gets mixed up with them. It's not funny because it's not supposed to be, and that's kind of sad; there's potential for laughs, but in the end all you get are clichés and bad character choices.Charlie (Pesci) and Grace (Mirren) Bontempo open up the first legal brothel in Nevada. She's the daughter of a prostitute, he's done a stretch in San Quentin. It's the 1970s. They have a pretty good setup for themselves; good-looking women, steady clients, and the law on their side (and in their pockets). They don't want for much, seemingly. Then Charlie, a hotheaded tempest in a teacup if ever there was one, gets the idea that they'll garner more respect (or, more accurately, he will) if they own a successful professional boxer. So he buys the contract of one Armando Bruza, an up-and-coming Argentinian, much to Grace's chagrin. Charlie's banking on his guy doing well in his next fight, based on the rumor that Muhammed Ali would take on the winner.Here, Pesci plays a slightly watered-down version of Tommy DeVito from Goodfellas. He's foul mouthed, ill tempered, not very bright about a great many things, and seems to survive on chutzpah and the good grace of, well, Grace. Naturally, being the proprietor of a brothel has its privileges, and Charlie samples the wares with some regularity, an occurrence that Grace idly tolerates. When she's asked to become Bruza's manager - as a felon, Charlie can't get a license - she's reluctant, but the swarthy boxer has other ideas. And so it goes.Now, there's nothing inherently wrong with predictability. If I expect A to happen, and A happens, that's okay - as long as A wasn't spelled out as a fait accompli. If I expect A to happen, but B happens, that is also okay - as long as B is plausible. Here, I expect A to happen, and A happens, and it's obvious from almost the start of the movie that A will happen. This extends to character development as well. If a character does something, say, out of character (!), that's fine - as long as it propels the plot AND makes some bit of sense. Otherwise, it's just a ploy to get me to keep watching. In this movie, Charlie's character is so one-dimensional that when he makes an attempt to be lovey-dovey with Grace it's not even remotely believable. I can blame Pesci a little for this, but it just seem as if he had much to work with.And for a movie that uses a brothel as its main background, there's very little naughty stuff going on; they may as well have set it in a video store, if those still existed. There's a side plot about some high-and-mighty moral compass waging a war against the legal brothel, but it's barely touched upon, pardon the pun. (The other puns are unpardonable.) The plot just bounces around from issue to issue, circling the main story threat of Bruza, Grace, and Charlie. The result is sometimes maudlin and hackneyed and other terms writers use to describe crappy writing.

The year is 1976, and Grace and Charlie Bontempo operate a legal brothel in Reno. Ever the hustler, Charlie buys an up-and-coming boxer from Argentina whom Grace at first dislikes, but later comes to love.The movie, based on a true story, is tawdry and unpleasant, loaded with profanity and so tedious it was hard to finish. Helen Mirren looks like she hates being in every scene and her innate dignity doesn't fit the low-life character she plays. As her husband, Joe Pesci is repulsive and hard to watch while Sergio Peris-Mencheta lacked charisma as the boxer.The whole story seems as dry and pointless as the Reno desert landscape. The movie isn't entertaining, it's just a boring story about unsympathetic people.

The film has two sags: One very early on in Act I and another late in Act II. In observing a small private audience that was viewing this film, they were all very much engaged in the drama and the action throughout, but they were nearly lost during the two sags. If it were not for those, the film might have attracted a larger audience.This is not the story of the Mustang Ranch, per se, but rather the story an ambiguous love triangle. (I am thoroughly aware of the Mustang Ranch story, and know Joe Conforte's attorney and best friend, Virgil Bucchanieri, quite well). For example, the film does not use the gimmick of trying to exaggerate the characters that inhabit the brothel, and resists the temptation of trying to replicate the exotica of the Star Wars bar scene.The real test for a film with this class of story arc is the degree to which we care about the characters mid-way through Act II. Do we care what happens to them in Act III? I and the other audience members all agreed that we did and we shed the expected tears in a tense moment between the dreamer, played by Joe Pesci, and the determined pragmatist, played by Helen Mirren, in the penultimate scene. None of the central or supporting roles were in any way "cardboard" characters.The production values were quite high and the number of technical errors were minimal (three errors with production sound that really should have been fixed in post plus a couple of continuity errors). Music was very subtle to the point of vanishing at times. There was no attempt at creating a photographic theme: it was all shot color-balanced at neutral without any exaggerated focus-pulls, odd camera framing or moves (but a lot of crane rentals were involved), Pro-mist filters, or too many magic hour shots. That is, the cinematography did not draw attention away from the drama.The film resolves unambiguously with a shock ending that is well worth waiting for. My final test of entertainment value is: "Are there any scenes in this film that I will remember and repeat in my mind's eye the next day?" I would say that there are such scenes, and I therefore give this picture a 7 out of 10.

The focus is in the wrong place. Who cares about the owners. The real stories are what went on between the girls and their customers. There's where the action, emotion and conflicts happen. So many, and so interesting, I wrote a novel about it all.Incidentally, the summary says the ranch was closed by the IRS. True and double-true. The IRS first closed the place in 1995, for a few days; then it was re-opened under IRS management. The IRS likes to deny they actually operated a brothel for profit, but the eyewitnesses and newspaper accounts say otherwise. The IRS actions were shameless. They actually confiscated the personal effects (clothing, teddy bears, hairbrushes, etc) belonging to the girls who worked there, sold these for chump change. This despite the fact that their claim was against the owners, not the girls. CBS News and other coverage of the closing was laughable. It showed girls saying they were taking up sewing et cetera. In fact, the adjoining brothel (0.1 miles away) suddenly had an increase of dozens of new girls who simply moved to a new location.When the property was auctioned, a lone bidder got the property for 10 cents on the dollar and he secretly represented the original owners. Re-opened without IRS, they operated for a few years until the second and final IRS closing. Old Joe ought to have paid his taxes.There are still legal brothels in Nevada, but sharp increases in prices has taken away the casual fun atmosphere and customers are few and far between. Love Ranch? Not anymore.