All the movies I rented and watched from Netflix. I exclude most movies I watch on HBO or TV, unless they are special films I sit down deliberately to watch (no channel surfing). I can include movies I go to the theater to watch as well.
Liam Neeson’s foray into spy-action-adventure was everything it was advertise to be… and no more. There is a seemingly single minded attitude in movies that the best way a dad can show his love for his daughter is by blasting away with a shotgun at anyone who may threaten her little girl image or virginity. The overwhelming violence through which Neeson’s character trudged to save his daughter from (gasp) white slavers intent on selling her precious virginity to sweaty dark skinned Arabs became so grim as to take on a pathalogical aspect. Is this the only way men today can relate to being good dads to young women in need of strong male role models? The extent of believabilty that gets stretched in this film, just to create the circumstances under which Liam’s killer-under-control character gets unleashed, is pretty extreme. Given the completely convoluted and unlikely scenarios set up for him, what choice did this guy have but to wade in, grim and Schwarzenegger-like, to rescue his baby girl from a fate worse than prom night? There is enough possesive intensity in Liam’s pursuit of his kidnapped daughter to make Nabokov wince, but it all turns out okay when after a blood splattering climax the girl has a newfound respect and appreciation for dear old dad. And isn’t that all dads want, anyway?
Perphaps the only theme more irritating than when some high-falutin’ Yankee has to come down to the backwards south, go without his cafe latte and cell phone service, and be compelled into skinning a buck and chewing tabacco before he can learn a serious lesson about the values of southern culture, is when a high-falutin’ career girl from swanky Miami comes to backwards Minnesota, confounded by snow, frustrated by simpletons and rubes, unable to walk the icy streets in her killer heels (that are wasted on these galoshes-wearing flannel shirt tree stumps called townsfolk), forced to fish through a hole in the ice and pee through a hole in her Carharts before she can learn a serious lesson about the values of good ole midwest culture.
All that is to say that New In Town was hopeless and souless and frantic without being touching or funny. Yet another example of how people from New York and Los Angeles view the squat bear-hunting Neanderthals of middle America. This movie perpetuates the stereotypical myth of the noble villager who is content to plow his two acres, sit by the fire with his pipe, and listen to Ma read stories to the kids, before putting out the kerosene lamp, giving thanks to God for all the good and bad, and shuffling off to bed. It trivialized the feelings of community in small towns at the same time it is holding them up as the one thing missing from the big cities. And it mocks the common sense abilities of people who have to know things just to get things done ("You mean you ain’t never run a combine tractor?), while marveling that they know suffistimicated stuff like using a fax machine. The movie was joyless, annoying, dumb, and Renee Zellweger looked like she was having an allergic reaction to some medication.
Saw this in the theater. I was a big fan of the DaVinci Code Book, and was less wowed by the movie. I considered Angels and Demons the book to be less enjoyable than DaVinci Code, but still figured they would work out all the missteps they made in the movie. They did not, but that doesn’t make it a bad movie. A bit slow and plodding, and only Ewan McGregor’s skill and charisma keeps you from figuring things out too early, although you are always suspicious. The movie (as did the book) takes place over the course of a few hours, making everything go at a frentic pace. Sometimes things just go too fast. Which sould make up for when it goes too slow. But it doesn’t. Still, in the world of thrillers and suspence that CGI-vision spectacles like Transformers and Terminator has left for us, it is nice to squeeze away from the teen crowd and watch a movie for adults.
This DVD was a gift and I finally got around to watching it recently. “Casino Royale” introduced Daniel Craig as Bond and this movie tries to wipe the slate clean of the dashing Sean Connery, the tounge-cheek Roger Moore, the forgetable George Lazenby, the dour Timothy Dalton, and the basically made for TV Pierce Brosnan. This Bond is borderline psycho, more in the mold of Robert Shaw’s killer Grant in “From Russia With Love”, hard to see as anything but a remorseless killing machine who doesn’t suave his way in and out of things, he bulldozes. It’s like Rambo and Terminator with an English accent. And in both movies, it was hard for the villian to measure up. LeChiffe was an asmatic eye-bleeder with the jitters, and Dominic Green is a tree hugging sociopath who gets off killing pretty girls. Both “Bond Girls”, Vesper Lynd and Camille Montes, are well suited to the new century of action movies. Smart, capable, hard hitting women who are sexy without being dumb. Passionate without being hysterical. I am coming to like Olga Kurylenko for these types of roles. Unfortunately QS doesn’t really stand on its own as a Bond movie. Yes it is gritty, vibrant and action packed as any other thriller in the theaters today. Yes both films have been the highest grossing Bond films ever. But it has a larger debt to pay to fans of this unique genre. The film has to be smart, and Bond has to be cool. I want to be Bond when I see Connery light a cigarette and cock an eyebrown. I want to be Bond when Moore jumps into a car that turns into a submarine that turns into a airplane. I want to be Bond when Brosnan sits opposite some larger than life super villian and calmly orders champagne, cracking wise-ass the whole time. I’m not sure I want to be Craig’s Bond. That seems like a dark, lonely, scary place to be.
I don’t know what to say about this exactly. I felt this was a series on its way out and it knew it, and that it was going for a point or theme that seemed totally out of grasp.
Okay, its dark and full of angst. We’ve always known that. When humanity is down and on the ropes all our heroes turn out to be flesh and blood people with faults and fear…okay. We are not so different from our enemies, who are plauged with doubts and fears, too. Yes, yes, yes. I get it.
If I had to take the producers view of things, I’d say that humans simply don’t need to be saved and don’t want to be saved anyway. We’d rather fight each other and fuel the fires of our own self hatred than reflect upon our tragedy and try to grow as civilized and spiritual beings. Most disappointing in the fourth and final season was the failure of a truely inspiring character to emerge. Adama is no Eisenhower, not even a MacArthur. Roslin is no Lincoln, or even a FDR. Baltar is no Jesus, Judas, or Barabbas. Amongst the Cylons there is not one character that exhibits a focused personal charisma. Every single character is tragic, self indulgent, overwhelmed, fearful and guilt-ridden. In a series with such a large cast, and so many personal plot lines, its refreshing when we can break away from the suffering of one character to the adventures of another. But in this series we just jump from one shade of darkness to another. Yes, tough times can bring out the worst in people, but they also bring out the best. Greatness emerges from people who won’t let their inner demons reign free, who don’t sacrifice their ideals and values on the alter of expediency. That was a side of this story I would have like to see more of. Or, any of.
This would have been a classic vampire movie, one to reference when judging others, if it had kept to course and not fallen for some cliched shock techniques.
The movie is about a young boy, a loner and an outcast, who befriends a wierd little girl who moves into his apartment complex. Right away we know there is something not right about her, but the director does a good job of foreshadowing without overshadowing. Unfamiliar with the vampire genre, he does make some real mistakes, though. Trying to shock the audience with gruesome vampire attacks, while not giving enough attention to the subtle elements that make Eli the vampiress so appealing. Despite the final showdown with the boys who’ve been bullying the boy, Oskar, this is not a story of good vs evil, nor of good triumphing. If anything it is a tale that wierd draws wierd, and societies higher moralities don’t always work on the individual level. I understand “they” are working on a Hollywood remake for 2010. Given Hollywood’s history for taking foreign movies and recasting them U.S. audiences, I am not expecting much more that a CGIlaced Ring/Grudge/Unborn mishmash that misses its target even further than this one (the vengeful murder of children and Oskar’s introspective creepiness are hard to market). This is not a bad movie, it is a good movie. I was a little disappointed that it was only a few steps short of a great movie.
I have a growing affinity for Indian cinema, and stories about Indian women. Brick Lane tell the story of a young girl named Nanzeen who is wed to an older man in an arranged marriage. He takes her away from her family and particularly her sister, to whom she is very close following the suicide of their mother. Over the years from her flat on Brick Lane in London Nanzeen traces her sister’s life back home via letters she recieves, and makes the inevitable comparisons to the wants and lacks in her own life. Her husband is not a particularly cruel or unpleasant man, but his is a man of his culture and treats Nanzeen as little more than a household servant. Lonely and isolated she begins an affair with a younger man from the neighborhood, a man with political zeal and passion. After her husband loses (or quits) his job and takes another as a low paid bus driver, Nanzeen begins sewing to help make money for the family, and also to realize her dream of going home after 20 years and seeing her sister. As the movie rolls on everyone’s ideals are dispelled and each character sees not only their lives but the lives of those around them more clearly. The biggest disillusion is Nanzeen’s realization that her sister is really working as a prostitute and her letters describing a vivacious life have been misinterpreted. Nanzeen’s lover becomes too political for her, her husband decides to return to India, a failure but still proud, and she takes her own independence and decides to remain in London with her daughters, determined to discover her own value as a person and a woman.
I liked the movie despite its bleakness and sense of hopelessness and dead end choices. The actors were strong and believable, their characters rich and complex. No one was a cardboard cutout.
Saw this in the theater. I would have gone to see the new Star Trek even if it had totally sucked ass. Which it did. At warp speed. I mean, WTF? W…T…F…? Okay, I admit I am ready to blame JJ Abrams for just about everything bad in entertainment today. From screwing up MI3 to turning Lost into one long drawn out insufferable trip to a ham fisted dentist. I didn’t expect a lot from the Star Trek movie and I didn’t get a lot. Great special effects is the kindest thing I can say. Zachary Quinto was an effective Spock, but had all his thunder stolen by the “real” Spock, who got trotted out yet again to intone the same tired lines in an even more gravely voice. Karl Urban filled in nicely for Deforest Kelly, but that was the only caricature performance of the movie. Uhura was hot. Sulu? How has playing a pair of idiots in Harold and Kumar movies elevated these two to gain respectable roles, to which they are unfit to play? Romulan villains pressed out of the same mold as every SF villain for the last decade… Capt Pike bringing some degree of maturity and gravitas to a cast of twenty-something punks… and Kirk… was that James T. Kirk or some escapee from the set of Starship Troopers. All “whooha” and male vigor, and “yet never noted in him any study.” He cheats, stows away, commits armed mutiny, blatantly bares his ass at any Star Fleet regulation he finds, and he gets promoted to captain? Not even graduated from Academy, posted on a ship to serve as a grunt officer, or given command of a lesser ship. Nope, balls and bravado and a big mouth qualify him for the prestigious and diplomatic position of captaining the Fleet’s #1 flagship. Now that really is an alternate universe. And not since they replaced John Cleese for Q in Bond movies have they foisted a tragedy equal to Simon Pegg as Scotty. Seems Star Fleet is woefully incapable of recognizing the awesome talent in its midst. Oh, I could go on, I could delve into the plot that kept twisting just to make the outrageous circumstances work or the gratuitous holocaust of 6 billion Jews… I mean Vulcans, no hidden messages there, Mr. Abrams. But I’ll just point out the thing that probably bugged me the most: I didn’t see one damned Klingon. Star Trek without a Klingon? W… T… F…?
Viewed from afar, looking at the movie franchise as a whole, this is not an advancement. I foresee two followups, then hopefully this star will red dwarf out of existance. ST movies over the last decade make ST First Contact the landmark in action, plot, characters and suspense. First Contact, for chrissake!
The tragedy was that everything in this movie was unnecessary. The crew had a past that worked, they had lives and events that made sense in Roddenberry’s context. Gene envisioned a future where merit and the pursuit of knowledge and understanding were rewarded by the Federation, not punished by exile to the frozen world of Hoth. (If that ice planet was that close to Vulcan, how come Scotty didn’t know what was going on until Spock-Future and Kirk showed up?) The crew of the Enterprise was the deliberate combination of people who had proven they were the best, put together with the expectation they would be able to do great things because they respected one another and their skills. (If Arnold Swarzenegger can tone down his accent for Hollywood, can’t Checkov learn to make a “V” sound after years of exposure to multi-cultures and voice print computers?) The crew was not a Mad Mad Mad Mad World mix of misfits and irregulars who badgered, conned and stumbled their way onto the elite starship of the fleet. (One presumes you’d have to be checked out on the “make go fast” controls of such a ship before anyone left you alone to pilot it) Isn’t it time we jettisoned this old cast (and the STNG cast too, come to think of it) like overheating anti-matter from a Jeffries tube? If we are going to write new histories, lets plumb the depth and bredth of 300 years of Federation dicovery and adventure. Let’s have a new Star Trek with a new crew, a new ship, new dynamics. Will we miss Enterprise? Probably not, she gets to be a smaller, plainer character with each film. No distintive red doors swishing open and closed, no Majel Barret voice over, no cavernous anti-matter reactors sealed off by a lattice screen. And lets get a story where we are out discovering new things instead of reacting to threats from the future, attacking planet Earth (Doesn’t the seat of the Federation and the home base of Star Fleet have any decent planetary defense systems against rampaging Romulan mining ships?)
Okay, okay. I dont’ want to spend 127 minutes complaining… but I could. Therein is the tragedy.
I know Hollywood-oriented comedies are suppose to be dark and tainted, but come on. Only Barry Levinson’s direction and pacing kept this movie from become a ton of bricks on its way to the lake bottom. As it is the film is deliberately light, funny, aggrivating, and chaotic. To call it a satire is to be redundant. DeNiro is DeNiro, Willis is Willis, nobody springs any surprises. But the movie never seems to take itself too seriously. It reinforces the triviality of the egos and talents and shows who carries the weight in the industy and who makes the rules. Not us, gentle viewers, not us.
Just to be clear: I like Julienne Moore. Not a lot, not like, “she’s hot”, but I respect her as an actress. But the biggest favor that could have befallen me during this film was to be struck blind myself. I think it is supposed to be a story of the disentegration of society when we have to rely on each other and our normal means of civilization are overturned. What it was was an endless barrage of human wickedness, pain, selfishness and victimization. As the only sighted person amongst all the blind, Julienne’s character could truely have been queen. Instead she dallies and hems and haws and finds every excuse she can to not be noticed, and to suffer along with the rest of her compatriots. Neither sympathetic, realistic, or interesting. Maybe there’s value in seeing just how far people will sink when they are thrown into the dark and survival becomes a matter of who can be the most vicious and remorseless. But then, maybe there isn’t value in it, either.
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