The Birdcage

A young couple hoping to wed attempt to deceive the would-be bride's father (Gene Hackman as Senator Keeley), for he's a politician with a traditional edge that may frown upon his new festive in-laws.

The potential in-laws themselves are also hesitant to support the union, for the couple's rather young and lack multidisciplinary life experience. 

But, decision made, they proceed abashed yet disrespectful, asking the lively freespirited couple to cloak their natural inclinations. 

They've done quite well for themselves and live within an inclusive open-minded realm, where they even own their own successful nightclub in which Albert (Nathan Lane) regularly performs.

It's easier for Armand (Robin Williams) to give in since it's his son who's matrimonially disposed, even if he's moved far past having to conceal his conducive clutch commercial savvy.

They redecorate their apartment and even practice earnest mannerisms, Armand even going so far as to ask an ex to play a leading role (Christine Baranski as Katharine). 

She happens to be the boy's (Dan Futterman as Val) mother but she hasn't seen him in years, the ethics becoming more and more disreputable the closer and closer they come to seeming orthodox. 

But Albert won't be treated this way and remains a star of first rate standing.

He's ready for a surprise performance.

As his audience arrives for dinner (with Dianne Wiest as Louise). 

The result is a resplendent debacle abounding with resonant tact and mirth, a performance precious in its incomparability delicately redefining eloquence.

I'd argue indefatigably that Laurence Olivier's the best actor I've seen, but I've never seen him reach the heights Nathan Lane ascends in Mike Nichols's Birdcage.

Backed up by Robin Williams whose transformative prowess mischievously bewilders, saving the best of his awkward orchestrations for the detested gastronomic dissimulation. 

But as fate would have it within the film invasive hounds inspire an otherworldly rapprochement, and an uncanny serendipitous synthesis effortlessly enchants as it chaotically unites.

Bizarro bastions bounteously bursting as merrymaking matriculately mingles, I'd hope The Birdcage would dazzle any audience from whatever political or ethical stripe.

Things could be much more chill and compassionate without having to make impractical sacrifices. 

That's what it seemed like in '90s movies anyways.

Or at least many of those I happened to see.

*Most of which are still available for rental.

**With Calista Flockhart (Barbara Keeley) and Hank Azaria (Agador). 

***Surprised The Birdcage isn't a Criterion.