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Night Breed review

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 12, 2010 | No Comment |


Writer-director Clive Barker´s “Nightbreed,” 1990, is a much more ambitious plan than his “Hellraiser” had been, but the theorem remains the same. He creates a smashingly strange, strange, spooky environment populated by all sorts of freakish and wonderful characters and superficially as an afterthought hopes to do it with some charitable of plot track.

He couldn´t do it in “Hellraiser,” which all but worked in vex of its lack of fabliau, and he can´t do it here, which just vivid doesn´t do callisthenics at all. Too bad. There are some fascinating pieces of business around every corner in “Nightbreed,” and the point of featuring a brood of sympathetic monsters is really preferably touching.

Here´s the deal: Tip in “Hellraiser” the hero and heroine go into an old, dark house in the country and through the intervention of a concealed puzzle cube they find an charm into a hellish world inhabited by several very unlikable population? Well, this time out of pocket, a young man goes unconfined to an old, dark cemetery in the sticks and finds a mausoleum that takes him into a world of monsters.

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As an alternative of pronouncement a few distorted demons with pins in their head, however, the newest knight and heroine bargain a whole colony of assorted uglies. The differences in the two films are that (1) these new critters are less friendly and decent want to live in peace, away from the ease of the world; (2) there are more of them in more different shapes and sizes; and (3) their subterranean surroundings are built on a everywhere a beyond more immense scale than the hallways and rooms with hanging chains in “Hellraiser.” In other words, “Nightbreed” is, mainly, more of the same but larger, with a more compassionate attitude toward those who are different. It´s far more a “message” see in the mind’s eye than its antecedent, as well as more epic.

Barker based his screenplay on his own novel, “Cabal,” gave it a good villain (played by boyfriend guide David Cronenberg), and hired a musical wizard in these uncanny films, Danny Elfman, since the history score. They all assistance, but not enough. The scene is Calgary, providing plenty of Canadian wilderness to profit e avoid lost in. A infantile man named Aaron Boone (Craig Sheffer) is having bad dreams of monsters and end. His girlfriend, Lori (Anne Bobby), is putting up with it, but only. Boone has been taking his problem to a psychiatrist, the evil Dr. Decker (Cronenberg), who basically tells him that since his dreams have been identical to a series of horrendous murders that have occurred in the area–six families butchered in the past six months–he must be leading in the interest of them. It takes the viewer hither two minutes to suppose evasion that the real serial killer is Decker, who needs a at the ready patsy to nippers the crimes on.

But that´s just the beginning. It stillness doesn´t explain why Boone is having premonitions of the murders. That was something I conditions did figure out, except that in his dreams he keeps seeing visions of the monsters returning to a place called Midian, and maybe he´s in some freedom tied up to the people who live there. “It´s the okay awkward where the monsters go.” Before Boone can find far-off more about Midian, though, he´s turned in to the police by Decker and killed. And it´s here the real fun starts, because Boone doesn´t stay dead for long.

He waits until his autopsy is almost flawless, then jumps off the operating table and crashes through a window. He heads straight out into the countryside to an adept, seemingly deserted cemetery, a borough of the unrelieved, called…bide one’s time as a service to it…Midian. There he finds consanguine spirits in a people known as the Tribes of the Moon, or simply “the Nightbreed.” They are shape-shifters, the last of an primeval race meeting long ago forced underground by the absent-minded persecutions, inquisitions, and exterminations of Man. After a brief entrance, Boone joins their cult. He´s one day followed by Lori, who thinks someone has stolen Boone´s body and taken it there, and by Decker, who is Avernus-bent on an inquisition of his own. They are followed by a unharmed town full of rednecks looking to work havoc upon them some monsters. Most of the manners takes wrong in the tunnels beneath cemetery, concluding with a history-making battle between the Midian freaks and the mortal freaks. Bet on the Medians.


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Schwartz Dynasty (2006)

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 9, 2010 | No Comment |
“It’s worth its weight in kreplach.”

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

A compelling tragi-comedy involving two beleaguered Jewish families
in a West Bank settlement town in Israel that’s co-directed and co-written
by Schmuel Hasfari and his nephew Amir Hasfari. 

Some fifty years ago Rabbi Yekutiel Schwartz, from a family with
a long tradition of producing rabbis, founded a small West Bank town and
was the head of the religious council, but was accused of embezzlement
and committed suicide. His shamed wife Miriam Schwartz (Miriam Zohar) now
tries to clear his name and make it possible to be buried in the holy cemetery
next to her beloved husband. According to Jewish law suicide is a sin and
therefore he’s buried outside the cemetery’s fence in a special section
for sinners. 

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The beautiful blonde Ana (Ania Bukstein), whose father is Jewish
but her mother is a goy, is visiting from Russia carrying an urn of her
late father’s ashes, as she wishes to grant her father’s request to be
buried in the holy land in sacred ground. Ana is staying with her uncle
Dr. Alexandr Alexandrov (Vladimir Friedman), her father’s atheist brother
who was a surgeon in the old country but is not allowed to practice in
his new homeland of Israel. Alex married a nagging but attractive Israeli
Jew named Ziona (Sharon Elimelech). They run a small butcher shop that
is non-kosher, therefore it arouses so much anger among the intolerant
ultra-Orthodox that some of their children routinely break the store windows
by tossing rocks at it and are praised by their elders. To get her case
heard before the religious council headed by the Orthodox Rabbi Eliyahu
(Amos Lavi), Ana poses nude as a model for a group of artists to save up
enough money to bribe a religious insider to argue her case before the
religious council. But inspite of his help she is denied permission, as
they want proof that’s her father in the urn and that he’s a Jew. They
demand that she get his brother Alex to be a witness, but he refuses because
of his own rigid anti-religion convictions.

When Miriam runs across Ana, she connects with her plight and schemes
to help her. Both ladies are thwarted by the restrictions of the Jewish
law and draw solace from each other over their need to fight a lonely battle
for their demands. In the meantime Miriam’s 24-year-old grandson Avishai
Schwartz (Yehuda Levi), a lazy pothead who works occasionally as a cantor
and a Bar Mitzvah teacher, who sings like a bird, falls madly in love with
Ana but shows his true uptight colors by acting upset of her modeling gig
and of her walking around town in a mini-skirt. Avishai’s father Avraham
“Bomba” Schwartz (Tal Friedman, popular Israeli TV comedian),an obnoxious
fumbler but not without some charm, is running for political office on
the National Religious Party ticket. 

How things get resolved when the two families intertwine and all
their hare-brained schemes are introduced play out as not as interesting
as the study of these offbeat characters.

Despite the film’s contrivances and need to connect all the dots
in such a plodding and unconvincing melodramatic conclusion, it’s worth
its weight in kreplach because it paints a fairly accurate picture of Israeli
life and is an engaging depiction of both an Orthodox and secular Jewish
family. It received nominations at the 2004 Israeli Film Academy for Best
Actor (Tal Friedman), Best Supporting Actor (Yehuda Levi) and Best Supporting
Actress (Ania Bukstein). But it seemed strange that Miriam Zohar received
no mention, especially since she gave the most moving performance in the
film.

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: You don’t have to be a dummy…

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 8, 2010 | No Comment |

:

You don’t have to be a dummy to know that after her breakthrough motion picture success in Knocked Up that Katherine Heigl would be appearing in some star vehicle motion picture as quickly as possible, right? Well that’s what 27 Dresses feels like, a rushed motion picture designed to strike while the iron was as hot as possible, but while Heigl was thinking that this film would make her a viable motion picture star, someone forgot to read the script to the thing, because it’s devoid on any real imagination that I can find.

Written by Aline Brosh McKenna, who adapted The Devil Wears Prada for cinematic storytelling, and directed by Anne Fletcher (Step Up), Heigl plays Jane, a woman that is the quintessential definition of “always a bridesmaid never a bride,” as she’s filled said position 27 times. Now think about that for a second, either she is very lucky, or she’s got some sort of strange addiction that only Maury Povich might be able to cure. Making things more bizarre is that she keeps all the dresses, which leads me to think that the woman has some sort of fetish for artificially made fabrics that she wouldn’t think of wearing again anytime soon. But I digress. Her younger sister Tess (Malin Akerman, The Heartbreak Kid) comes to New York and immediately starts a relationship with George (Edward Burns, The Brothers McMullen), Jane’s boss and longtime crush. But since Tess is Jane’s sister, she helps Tess out with lip fully bitten. When Tess and George announce their engagement, that’s when Kevin (James Marsden, Superman Returns) makes a more pronounced appearance. Kevin met Jane earlier in the film and Kevin’s cynical attitude was a turn off for Jane, though when Kevin is discovered as a wedding correspondent for the prestigious New York Journal, that’s when minds start to get changed a little bit. Jane starts to act a little more selfishly, which after eating so many bad sandwiches of grief, is a welcome respite for her.

Now when it comes to romantic comedies, surely there would be some new gold to mine, or at least a different way to tell the tale, right? Well if there is, 27 Dresses sure isn’t finding it. You can time out when the main character conflicts are going to occur, and less than ten minutes into the film, my wife, who’s seen her fair share of said romantic comedies, said that she knew what was going to happen in the rest of the film. We both did, for sure, but she knew what would exactly occur. And yeah, Jane and Tess get into a fight at some point, and while Jane is repelled by Kevin, she becomes more attracted to him the more she finds out about him, even if a small hiccup or two gums up the works, so to speak, early in the third act. To the credit of the performers, while Heigl seems to appear bored and lifeless in the first act, at least when Marsden is reintroduced more significantly into the picture, things are livelier and Heigl snaps out of it, almost as if she knows the script stinks, though she’ll make every effort on it now that Marsden is here and is, you know, actually trying to make it work. So it might start off bad, it gets palatable as things unfold. But at 111 minutes, you feel like you’re wearing all 27 dresses at times. Ten or fifteen minutes could have been trimmed without losing anything, if you ask me.

As far as the roll call of capable comedic performers whose talents are wasted in supporting roles in big studio pieces of junk goes, the list is relatively small. Aside from those I’ve mentioned, Melora Hardin (The Office) plays Kevin’s challenging boss, while Judy Greer (Arrested Development) plays Jane’s best friend Casey. She does have a funny line here and there, but almost every scene she’s in makes her look like she just woke up after a three day vodka binger. Now I know that’s what her character is supposed to be at time, but I thought about this when I was watching the supplemental material. It’s said (and hinted upon) in the movie that a bridesmaid dress is supposed to knock the woman wearing it down a couple of notches on the looks side of things, so the bride can look at the better come the day of the wedding. If that’s the case, I think that Greer is a cinematic bridesmaid dress for Heigl for whatever unnecessary reason. Greer is not ugly by any means, but Greer seemed to be dressed down more when she shares the screen with Heigl, which was a little bit wasteful of her talents and I’d be a bit insulted if I were Greer. But hey, the film made over $75 million domestically and increased her visibility to the public, so ugly it up, right?

The Blu-ray:
Video:

27 Dresses arrives to Blu-ray shelves with a 2.40:1 widescreen presentation and an AVC MPEG-4 encoded transfer on a BD-50 dual layer disc. While there are a lot of scenes on this disc that possess quite a bit of background depth, the overall lack of detail throughout the film was a disappointment. I was expecting facial imperfections and flaws, but at times, Heigl and Akerman look as if they’re airbrushed figures. Or to put it another way, take a look at Marsden in X-Men 3 and compare that Blu-ray to this one, and you might see what I’m referring to. The video qualities aren’t a complete failure, as blacks look very deep and provide a solid contrast to things, but for a film that was released to theaters three months ago, 27 Dresses should look much better than it does on Blu-ray.

Sound:

Fox brings their DTS HD 5.1 Master Lossless Audio to the table for 27 Dresses and this sounds like a relatively ordinary soundtrack. Dialogue is planted in the center channel, though sometimes it’s a little bit on the hushed side of things, so some volume compensation is in order. There are a couple of songs that play during the film, and while they sound clear they hardly possess any subwoofer “oomph”. The only real chance for surround activity and subwoofer usage is during an ambient scene where the main characters are caught in a thunderstorm late in the film. And if you really want to, you can check out the Spanish, Cantonese, Mandarin or Korean subtitles on the disc, but as I mentioned earlier, this is a new film that looks remarkably unremarkable.

Extras:

While the film lacks a commentary track with Heigl, Fletcher or anybody else, at least the extras are presented in high definition, so that’s good, right? “The Wedding Party” (14:31) is your typical quick making of look at the film, with thoughts on the initial story by the cast and crew, and their thoughts on what they needed to do to separate it from other romcoms. The cast share their thoughts on the film, their co-stars and director, while the crew talks about the cast. It’s your standard featurette where no one can do any wrong. Moving on, “You’ll Never Wear That Again” (6:46) looks at the wardrobe in the film, because you can’t really make a film titled 27 Dresses without looking at, well, 27 dresses. The costume designer Catherine Marie Thomas talks about how she wanted to dress Heigl for the weddings, and there is copious footage of Heigl in all of the different dresses. “Jane’s World” (4:38) examines the locations and set design, along with how all of the weddings were shot for the feature. “Running of the Brides” (5:05) examines the Filene’s sale which occurs each year. For those of you who aren’t married or went to the bar while your fiancée did this, basically it’s a wedding dress store where dresses in the thousands of dollars are marked down to the hundreds. The Filene’s personnel discuss the origins of the sale and the anxious brides talk about their strategies both before and during the rush. Three deleted scenes (3:58) are next, and they don’t really show all that much worth talking about. The trailers for Juno, The Devil Wears Prada and Mr. and Mrs. Smith round out this disc.

Final Thoughts:

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For the story that it has, 27 Dresses seems to rely on the faculties of its stars to help elevate the material. This does occur a little bit as the movie goes on, but when the story does pop in from time to time, it reminds us that it’s fairly unoriginal in terms of ideas and execution. The technical merits are somewhat disappointing and the extras are phoned in and threadbare, so if you really want to watch it, watch it for Heigl and little else. A solid rental at best.

Agree? Disagree? You can post your thoughts about this review on the DVD Talk forums.

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Check and Double Check (1930)

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 6, 2010 | No Comment |
“The film works as a curio to
see how the blacks were perceived back then by Hollywood.”

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

When viewed today, this is an embarrassing racial stereotyped Hollywood
film, where the two leads are white actors in blackface and their characterizations
depict them as not-too-bright schemers who are lazy and their speech mangles
the English language. The film works as a curio to see how the blacks were
perceived back then by Hollywood. The film is based on the popular Amos
‘N’ Andy radio show, the highest rated show at the time, that stretched
across three decades until the 1950s. In the 1950s it was put on television
in a series, but wisely had African-American actors play the leads. But
even that wasn’t enough to stop the controversy, as protests from the NAACP 
led to its cancellation after two seasons. Also, the studio must have realized
something was wrong (there were some protests from the black community)
because they made no more Amos ‘N’ Andy films even though this film did
well at the box office. Duke Ellington (his feature film debut) appears
as himself and thereby the suave bandleader avoids any racist characterizations.

Amos and Andy (Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll) are Harlem-based
cabdrivers recently arriving from Georgia, with the derby wearing and domineering
Andy the president and the passive Amos as the driver of the one decrepitcab
from their “Fresh Air Taxicab Company.” The plot centers around the white
Richard Williams (Charles S. Morton) visiting his late father’s friend
from Georgia, the wealthy Mr. Blair (Edward Martindel) now living in the
New York suburban community of Hartsdale, as Richard is in need of money
and hopes to secure the deed of his grandfather’s abandoned elegant old
house in Harlem (at one time a haven for rich white folks) to save him
from financial ruin. After not seeing Blair’s daughter Jean (Sue Carol)
for many years, he’s surprised at how pretty and sweet she is as an adult.
They quickly fall in love, though Jean is pursued by the creepy fellow
socialite Ralph Crawford (Ralf Harold). Ralph overhears Richard telling
Mr. Blair his plans of getting the deed tomorrow that’s probably still
in the mansion and schemes to go there that night so he can get the deed
first and thereby prevent Richard from having enough money to marry the
girl he wants to marry. Kingfish (Russ Powell), a friend of the cabdrivers
and the president of their lodge, the “Mystic Knights of the Sea,” arranges
for the lodge brothers to bring Duke Ellington and his Cotton Club Orchestra
to Hartsdale to play at the evening socialite party the Blairs are giving.
The cabdrivers run into Richard, and fondly remember him from Georgia and
say his “poppa treated them as if they were his children” when they worked
for him. They depart planning to meet later, as old friends (falsely indicating
relations between the races in the south was just peachy back in the days
of Jim Crow). 

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That night at their lodge meeting the cabbies get chosen to participate
in a secret ritual to honor the lodge’s founder, who was lost at sea, as
they are asked to go on a “night watch” where they are locked in the Williams’s
vacant house from midnight to one a.m. and have to locate a piece of paper
that says “check and double check” to prove they were there and then must
hide a similar “check and double check” paper for the following year’s
participants. While there they hear noises and think the house is haunted
(a stereotyped racial scene of blacks scared to be in a haunted house),
but soon someone pulls a gun on them and demands the valuable piece of
paper they have in their possession. That party is Ralph and his burglar
friend, as Ralph heads back to Hartsdale unaware that the cabdrivers gave
him the piece of paper marked “check and double check” and kept the deed.
When Richard searches the mansion the next day and can’t find the deed,
he tells Mr. Blair he doesn’t have enough dough to marry his fine daughter
and leaves for Georgia. But when the cabbies realize they gave the burglar
the wrong piece of paper, which disappoints them, and see the Williams’s
name on the deed they rush in their broken-down cab to catch Richard at
Penn Station before he departs and Richard thereby stays in the city and
marries Jean. 

Taste changes with time (Variety in their 1930 review called it “The
best picture for children ever put on the screen,” which makes you wonder
what they were thinking). Amos ‘N’ Andy were once the public’s darlings
and thought of as hilarious, but today their comedy act seems weak (they
have gags that are built around the theme of ‘let’s make fun of the dumb
Negroes,’ such as the reading impaired Andy telling Amos that “D-e-e-d”
spells “Dead”), their characterizations are obviously racist and the film
can hardly be recommended but as something that should be seen so it can
be commented on.

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A strange hybrid of Far Easte…

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 4, 2010 | No Comment |

A strange mongrel of Pissed Eastern mysticism, treacly sentimentality, diluted reworkings of Eddie Murphy’s patented confrontation scenes across ethnic and cultural boundaries, and dragged-in ILM (Industrial Light & Magic) special effects monsters, film makes no sense on any level.

Concoction has Murphy as a social worker specializing in tracking down missing children who is recruited to rescue the virtually divine Golden Child. Eponymous character, a so-called perfect child with magical powers of good, has been kidnapped in an overblown opening sequence by an unmitigated villain portrayed by a bearded Charles Dance, who wears a long leather coat like a Sergio Leone baddie.

Much nonsense ensues involving assorted bikers, chop-socky-happy Orientals and a serpentine sorceress.

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Brother Bear review

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 3, 2010 | No Comment |


“Brother Bear,” Disney’s 2003 item in the passionate feature cover category, is a bloody respectable recommendation picture, with a decent box office comeback and an Academy Award nomination to its hold accountable. It should definitively appeal to children and perhaps to adults as well. My problem with it is that while I admired its purposeful efforts to host and edify, I found it pretty much boring.

This latest release is not the Disney of “Snow Milk-white,” “Pinocchio,” “Fantasia,” “Beauty and the Beast,” or “The Lion King.” It’s not exact the Disney of “Song of the South” and the tales of Brer Rabbit. Although all the off ingredients seem to be in place, “Brother Bear” lacks the sparkle, the inventiveness, the creativity, and the charm of Disney’s largest work. That it was nominated for an Oscar probably says more about the lack of competition in the field of animation these days than with regard to the quality of the movie.

The setting for “Brother Bear” may remind viewers of “Ice Age” in that its at all times is during the epoch of the great mammoths, seemingly some 10-15,000 years ago when Hamper was impartial emerging from living in caves and still hunting his food. It’s a place of magic, where we’re told anything can happen and, in this film, does.

The essential character is a puerile Inuit named Kenai (voice by Joaquin Phoenix), a rambunctious colleague who is unbiased coming into his manhood and relative to to receive his totem, his personal advisor and protector through life, from the tribal shaman. As he thinks of himself as the macho kidney, he hopes for a manly, macho totem, a fell saber-toothed tiger or something like that. Instead, Kenai is agreed-upon a love endure, which disappoints him greatly because he thinks of bears as stupid, unfeeling brutes, and he becomes the object of much derision among his older brothers for the “love” business.

This opening episode is verbose, taking up a good half hour of the eighty-five one sec silver screen, and I rather shady by the put an end to of it a infinite of kids are going to be wondering where all the bears are required to be. The event establishes Kenai’s character, but it’s not much that couldn’t have been done in farther less for the moment. It’s also a period the scriptwriters use to establish the relationships total Kenai and his brothers, who may father lived thousands of years ago but perform similar kind modern teens, spitting on one another and speaking in today’s vernacular: “Bonehead,” “Dog stirring,” “He loves me, he loves me not,” “What!” While such updating is clearly an attempt to catch the heed of the movie’s youthful audience, it may be disconcerting to anyone once more the length of existence of nine.

Also, the Partner-O-Meter, whose heritage includes Inherent American, was annoyed with Kenai’s reaction to the totem he was given. She said it was typically Disney for the kid to register a rebellious twenty-first century reaction when, in fact, an ancient (or even a modern) tribesman would have been raised never to point his sacred totem.

Anyway, things at form get rolling when a bear takes the life of Kenai’s oldest brother and Kenai goes off destined for revenge, arduous the display but being transformed into it. Kenai, by way of some subspecies of non-secular conjuration, literally becomes the bear. Then the cinema gets more interesting as Kenai, as a bear, goes on a journey of adventure and exploration to reach a mountaintop in order to revolution himself back into a beneficent being. All of this is intended to be very psychological, although since it’s Disney and must not disgruntle anyone, the story shies away from any hint of gods or creed. Which is fine; the story is a mythic fable, after all, and it allows Kenai to get the idea life through the eyes of his hated enemy, giving him a new and better perspective on life.

It is also in this latter section of the story that Kenai meets the two superb, most-spirited characters in the talkie, a pair of moose named Rutt and Tuke (Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas). They are the mirthful relief in a movie that takes itself so seriously most of the anon a punctually that any note of humor is more than entitled. Moranis, especially, is a kick. Unfortunately, they disappear for long stretches and the movie loses some of its momentary steam.

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Here the large screen becomes even more typically Disney, too, as Kenai meets a adroit pygmy homeless hold up cub named Koda (Jeremy Suarez), who becomes Kenai’s smidgen fellow-man and sidekick. This angle is so old it was parodied in “Indiana Jones and the Shrine of Doom” concluded twenty years ago.

“Brother Bear” is the make of move that portrays excited animals like bears as lock bell-like and fetching, prompting tourists at Yellowstone to want their snapshots charmed with them. “Move a little closer to the encourage put up with, Mildred. That’s it. A itsy-bitsy closer. Instanter, put your hand out and treasured it, Mildred. Mildred? Mildred!!”

The fact is, destined for all its earnestness, its wholesomeness, and its uplifting moral values, “Brother Bear” is formula Disney. Five writers worked on the calligraphy, obviously each of them adding a representative Disney touch. The movie goes from ostentatious and eloquent to wise and spiritual, from grievous and pluck to humorous and lyrical and silly, not necessarily in that order. It tries to be all things to all people, and in doing so ends up somewhat a uninteresting and homogenized concoction.

Also in behalf of all of the movie’s skilled and handsome look, it didn’t work instead of me. The songs, by Disney intrepid Phil Collins, are unremarkable and unmemorable, often attempting a the ruling classes in the manner of “The Lion King” but failing to reach that plateau. And the artwork, in spite of beautiful, is just that, beautiful, not big shot or eye-catching as the artwork was in “Finding Nemo.” You discern, the physical form of “Finding Nemo” was able to win the entire picture, while the look and arrival of “Brother Produce,” although satisfactory, cannot sustain the film unaccompanied.

In addition, at regular intervals in the story we’re asked to get sad and teary-eyed, too, and ahead long I was air manipulated: Laugh immediately, sound now, be inspired, cry again, be uplifted. I establish it all too clear, myself, till I’m sure kids will enjoy it, and there’s no doubtful they’ll be rewarded for their attention. Plus, there’s an admittedly strong warm rebound at the film’s climax and a lesson about girl and comradeship and such that are industriously to resist.


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Mother’s Boys (1994)

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | June 1, 2010 | No Comment |

Just when you vision every conceivable permutation of the ‘home invasion’ plot had been worked, along comes this flashy, vapid variation. The twist here is that the ‘happy family’ consists of Gallagher, his three kids, and his schoolmarm girlfriend Whalley-Kilmer. And the unwelcome visitor is not some scheming psycho home-wrecker but the children’s ‘natural’ mum, Curtis, who walked out on them all three years earlier. Her revived claim on the family’s affections at essential seems legitimate, but soon she’s poisoning the boys’ minds with lies anent their father and surrogate mum. Curtis also makes a fiddle with for Gallagher and it’s his refusal of her advances that precipitates the final all-not allowed attack. Director Simoneau fills the process with artificially lit images, over-dressed sets and immaculately designed costumes, while neglecting such essentials as pacing and anticipation.

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After the Life review

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | May 30, 2010 | No Comment |

Romantic drama. Starring Lili Taylor and Guy Pearce. Directed by Toni
Kalem. (R. 111 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)



Based on the novel of the same name by Anne Tyler, “A Slipping Down Life”
has an oddness and whimsicality about it that can, at first, be confused for
authenticity. It stars Lili Taylor as a sheltered small-town woman who becomes
so obsessed with a local musician (Guy Pearce) that she carves his name into
her forehead with a shard of glass. Taylor, with her spacey Joan of Arc
quality, was born to play such skewed devotion, and the movie dresses up
Pearce so that he looks like every naive girl’s fantasy of poetic cool:
brooding, troubled and sounding a lot like Bono.

Unfortunately, what at first seems like observed, exaggerated truth soon
reveals itself as a series of writerly conceits being followed doggedly to
some logical conclusion. It’s like a series of what-ifs — what if she does
something crazy? what if they get together? — proceeding not from anything
organic but from an effort to add spice to a story. The result is something
specious, though occasionally lively. I suspect the speciousness might have
been ameliorated with a more arch take on the story, but writer-director Toni
Kalem chooses to play it straight, going for tears and smiles, not smirks and
laughs. “A Slipping Down Life” is often maudlin, often labored.

Still, good actors help. For all the essential falsity of the material,
Taylor and Pearce bring an anguished truth to their portrayals. The musician
has the advantages of higher status and genuine indifference in his first
contacts with Evie (Taylor), and yet Pearce, from the beginning, lets us see
how unsettled he is, having to deal with a woman more committed, more
genuinely weird and more effortlessly observant than himself. Taylor’s
challenge is nothing less than to hold the movie together, by making us
believe in Evie’s eccentricity and her radiant kindness. She almost does it.

“A Slipping Down Life” premiered at Sundance in 1999 and is just now
making it to theaters, so if you’re wondering why Pearce and Taylor are
seemingly ageless, that’s why. Finally, it’s probably not worth noting, but
impossible to resist mentioning that Kalem, a first-time director, is also an
actress and currently plays Big Pussy Bonpensiero’s widow on “The Sopranos.”

– Advisory: This film contains strong language and sexual situations.

– Mick LaSalle



‘Love Me If You Dare’

SNOOZING VIEWER

Romantic comedy-drama. Starring Guillaume Canet and Marion Cotillard.
Directed by Yann Samuel. (R. 94 minutes. In French with English subtitles.)



Only in a French romance could this happen. Two young people are arguing
in the middle of the street, blocking traffic. They ignore the driver beeping
the horn behind them and then, as an expression of contempt, they climb onto
the guy’s car and start making out. When they finally jump off and run away,
we’re not supposed to wonder where these selfish, deluded, narcissistic,
repellent young idiots get their nerve. We’re supposed to think l’amour,
l’amour and be charmed.

“Love Me If You Dare” has to be one of the least charming French romances
to find American distribution in recent years. It stretches to the snapping
point the French tendency to forgive lovers’ transgressions, while presenting
as love interests a pair of cretins whose casual cruelty and immature antics
render them entirely loathsome.

Then again, it may be wrong to look upon these characters as individuals.
Julien (Guillaume Canet) and Sophie (Marion Cotillard) are more like
principals in a writer’s elaborate gambit. They have a nonsexual, though
intense, attachment dating from childhood, an attachment based on a game in
which they take turns daring each other to do embarrassing and ridiculous
things. When they reach adulthood, these dares take on a destructive quality -
- though the victims are almost always not each other but innocent bystanders.

Critics sometimes naively complain that there’s “no one to like” in a
movie, as if people go to the movies to make friends. The odiousness of the
protagonists notwithstanding, the real problem in “Love Me If You Dare” is
that there’s no one to watch. The nature of Julien and Sophie’s shared
pathology renders them so limited, so lacking in emotional honesty, range or
potential for growth that watching them for 94 minutes is like watching single-
celled organisms under a slide for the same length of time.

Like your cat’s ear mites, the protagonists of “Love Me If You Dare” are
definitely alive. Yes, they are definitely doing things. But after a minute of
watching them, we’re ready to move on.

– Advisory: This film contains mild violence, strong language, nudity
and simulated sex.

– Ruthe Stein



‘An Amazing Couple,’ ‘After the Life’

POLITE APPLAUSE

“An Amazing Couple,” comedy; “After the Life,” drama. Both starring
Ornella Muti, Francois Morel, Dominique Blanc and Gilbert Melki. Written and
directed by Lucas Belvaux. (In French with English subtitles. Not rated. “An Amazing Couple,”
100 minutes. Runs through Monday. “After the Life,” 124 minutes. Runs Tuesday-
Thursday. At the Castro.)



“On the Run,” the first of director Lucas Belvaux’s three films about the
intersecting lives of residents of Grenoble, France, was about hate. “An
Amazing Couple” and “After the Life,” which complete his trilogy, are about
love, and are stronger and more engaging for it. Love trumps hate every time.

“An Amazing Couple” is charmingly offbeat in the vein of early Woody
Allen. The main character, Alain (Francois Morel), is a bigger hypochondriac
than Allen in any of his screen personas. Alain walks around tethered to a
tape recorder so he can give a blow-by-blow account of his symptoms. “Sharp
pain in back comes on suddenly,” he recounts, as if reporting the weather.

Alain’s conviction that he’s at death’s door leads him to dictate
constant changes to his will — providing generously for his wife, Cecile
(Ornella Muti), one day, only to rescind her inheritance when he suspects her
of an affair.

But the only other man she’s seeing is a local cop, Pascal (Gilbert
Melki), whom she’s hired to tail Alain because he’s been lying to her about
his whereabouts. When Pascal warns her that Alain may be playing around, she
dismisses the notion out of a touching belief in her husband. Her instinct is
right: He’s merely trying to cover up a routine surgery, which he naturally
believes will be the end of him.

Morel exhibits a flair for screwball comedy, playing Alain as a
combination of Mr. Bean and Monk. In one hilarious scene, he has his wife drop
him off at a train station, ostensibly for a trip to Paris, watches her drive
away and then hails a cab for the hospital to report more ailments to a doctor
more bored than alarmed. Cecile and Alain qualify as an amazing couple because
their love is strong enough to survive such nuttiness.

The newlyweds Pascal and Agnes (Dominique Blanc), the subjects of “After
the Life,” are amazing in their own right. She’s a morphine addict who has
concealed her 20-year habit from friends like Cecile. Because he’s hooked on
his wife, Pascal scores drugs for her through his connections in the police
force. But in a predictable plot turn, his illegal actions are discovered and
lead to his being blackmailed.

Blanc is completely without vanity in showing the physical deterioration
wrought by addiction. Her performance is as chilling as Lee Remick’s in “Days
of Wine and Roses.”

In order for each part of the trilogy to stand on its own, Belvaux has to
repeat scenes, which becomes distracting. But he provides a different
perspective every time. For example, in both “After the Life” and “An Amazing
Couple,” Pascal catches Alain with a young woman who could be his mistress,
but turns out to be his daughter. However, only in “An Amazing Couple” do we
hear her tearfully confide to her father that her boyfriend has ended their
romance.

It’s a complicated assignment Belvaux has given himself. Although he
falls short of acing it, he is to be commended for experimenting with the
possibilities of cinema.

– Advisory: Both films contain sexual situations and violent moments.

– Ruthe Stein



‘Bukowski: Born Into This’

POLITE APPLAUSE

Documentary about Charles Bukowski. Directed by John Dullaghan. (Not
rated. 130 minutes. At the Lumiere.)



When writer Charles Bukowski immersed himself in skid row, he wasn’t
slumming. He wanted to wake us up with a voice from the lower depths, and he
paid a price for cultivating that voice. In his words: “the rats in my dark
small room /very much resented sharing it /with me.”

“Poet laureate of the gutter,” ranter, sexual boaster, bane of the middle
class and lifelong outcast, the writer cultivated a persona that begs for
documentary treatment, and he gets a good one in “Bukowski: Born Into This.”
It’s the portrait of an artist who had neither time nor respect for literary
niceties — he was, in the words of publisher John Martin, a “man of the
street writing for the man of the street.”

Filmmaker John Dullaghan interviews Bukowski’s wife and ex-girlfriends,
and we hear from a number of the writer’s celebrity admirers and pals (Sean
Penn, Bono, Tom Waits, director Taylor Hackford), but most of the talking is
by the man himself. In footage from a variety of sources, Bukowski recounts
familiar stories, painfully visits the house where he grew up and even escorts
an interviewer around his old postal route (he worked for a time as a mail
carrier).

Fueling the poet’s work, we’re told, was rage against his father, who
regularly beat him with a razor strop. (”My father was a great literary
teacher,” Bukowski says. “He taught me the meaning of pain.”) In addition,
young Bukowski suffered from a severe case of acne that left him scarred. His
non-writing work life consisted of a number of what used to be called menial
jobs, including a long stint at the post office, as clerk and letter carrier.
He was also an alcoholic, whose drinking at one point caused him a near-fatal
bleeding ulcer. It was a breakthrough when Martin, his publisher at Black
Sparrow Press, could afford to pay him $100 a month to concentrate on writing.

Though pigeonholed by academics as part of the Beat movement, his
greatest renown, and success, came later, when he was adopted by the
counterculture. His reputation was cemented in 1987 when Barbet Schroeder
directed a film, “Barfly,” written by Bukowski about his own low-down
adventures in Los Angeles as a young man, played by hard-living Mickey Rourke.

And there were, of course, the readings.

Bukowski had a passionate Bay Area following, and his frequent
appearances here in the ’70s were the bookish equivalent of rock concerts. To
young people dying to be part of the literati, this was a chance to see living
history, an authentic bohemian wild man. Bukowski would amble out onstage and
sit at a small table that held a six-pack or a bottle of wine, sipping,
reading a few lines, sipping, reading. The audiences were large and vocal, and
the great man wasn’t shy about responding to friendly calls, or hecklers. His
performances did not disappoint.

What surprised some at those readings, and what comes across in the film,
is that, despite the boozing, the grizzled appearance, the often raunchy
content of his works, there was a soft side to Bukowski (at least in his later
years). In its most interesting moments, the film shows us a Bukowski who,
intentionally or not, undermines his roisterer image and reveals a much more
vulnerable man.

(Not that he was a complete sweetheart: Dullaghan also includes an
alarming sequence in which an angry Bukowski follows up a verbal tirade by
kicking his girlfriend on camera, and it’s not play-acting. Then again, he
later married the woman, and even cried at the wedding.)

By not glossing over these contradictions, the film raises a final
question: Was the mature Bukowski still a reprobate, or was he just giving the
customers what they paid for? The answer’s a secret that he took to his grave.
By the way, carved on his tombstone are these words: “Don’t try.”

– Advisory: This film contains vulgar language and a scene of domestic
violence.

– Walter Addiego



‘Word Wars’

WILD APPLAUSE

Documentary. Directed by Eric Chaikin and Julian Petrillo. (Not rated. 78minutes. At the Roxie.)



Take the bright, competitive and quirky kids in “Spellbound,” the
marvelous documentary about the national spelling bee. Now imagine some of
those youngsters as grown-ups, add profanity, drug use and bad facial hair,
and you have a rough idea of what “Word Wars” is like.

Tracking four Scrabble fanatics as they travel from tournament to
tournament and eventually reach the U.S. nationals in San Diego, the film is a
thoroughly entertaining and hilarious look at a board game that’s an
occasional amusement for some — and a serious obsession (or disturbing
addiction) for others.

One need not play the game, or even own a board, to enjoy this film. And
along the way, it won’t hurt to learn the definitions of jerrid (a blunt
javelin), dourine (a disease of horses) or gentian (a flowering plant). Armed
with such knowledge, anyone can travel to Reno on his own dime — as does
one of the film’s subjects — and win a total of $175 for a fourth-place
finish in a tournament.

To say that the men featured in the movie are characters is an
understatement. One of them, Joel Sherman, a reed-thin, sunken-eyed introvert,
remains unemployed so that he can devote all his time to Scrabble. Bottles of
Maalox always by his side to calm his stomach, he goes by the nickname “G.I.”
Joel — as in “gastrointestinal.” Matt Graham swears by “brain-boosting”
pills to help his game. His home is littered with bottles of them, along with
obscure dictionaries that allow him to think up anagrams in his sleep.
Defending champion Joe Edley, who can be seen performing tai chi before
tournaments, offers this unironic explanation for his victory: “When I won, I
really felt like the universe was telling me what to do and I was just doing
it.”

Most riveting of all is Marlon Hill, who grew up playing the game in
inner-city Baltimore. Hill could put any trash-talking NBA star to shame, and
it’s a kick to see him using his gutter mouth (between routine puffs from a
joint) when going on about how crazy English is. His agility with the spoken
word nearly matches his remarkable skill in putting winning words down on a
board.

– Advisory: This film contains adult language.

– John McMurtrie

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Powered By A Millennium Films…

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | May 29, 2010 | No Comment |

Powered By
MRQE Review
A Millennium Films presentation of a Michele Weisler, Important Arts Amusement, Flirt Pictures production. (International sales: Millennium Films, Los Angeles.) Produced by Randall Emmett, George Furla. Weisler, Mike Elliott, Holly Wiersma. Executive producers, Avi Lerner, Brad Jenkel, Trevor Short, Boaz Davidson, John Thompson. Directed by Jeffrey Super. Screenplay, Charles Kephart.


With:

Elijah Wood, Franka Potente, Mandy Moore, Chris William Martin, Deborah Harry, Elizabeth Perkins, Aaron Flower, Aloma Wright.


Nice and quirky, "Try Seventeen" is a character-driven comedy about a young cuffs (Elijah Wood) striking out on his own, who meets an extended family of rooming-enterprise oddballs, and ought to ultimately settle upon between two women among them, complete uncanny, the other mad. Pic's modest ambitions and execution will result in unexaggerated yields, with middling ancillary.

Arriving for his first day of college at a Kansas university and dragging a huge steamer trunk, wide-eyed 17-year-old Jones Dillon (Wood, decisively distancing himself from his "Lord of the Rings" turn as Frodo) spends about five minutes with his Ska-loving skinhead roommate before deciding private lodgings might be more suited to his sensitive temperament. (Dillon has an active fantasy life, imagining revenge on cruel strangers and a series of servile and exotic women.)

He moves into the sprawling boarding house run by furniture store owner Ma Mabley (Deborah Harry), and is soon dividing his attentions between sweet aspiring actress Lisa (Moore) and mysterious photographer Jane (Potente). The house's other tenant is Brad (Aaron Pearl), a hotpants-wearing artist who's fond of six-shooters.

What's most on Dillon's mind is losing his virginity. Title of pic comes from his response to Brad, who confides that he hasn't had sex in three years.

As all this transpires, Dillon carries on a series of contentious phone calls with his hard-drinking Texan mother Blanche (Elizabeth Perkins, who previously played 8-year-old Wood's mom in "Avalon"). She refuses to reveal to her son the identity of his father, to whom Dillon writes long letters that end up in the steamer trunk.

The Prodigy full movie download bluray

Debuting helmer Jeffrey Porter has pointed to "The Graduate" as an inspiration for his treatment of Charles Kephart's script, but there's little, if any, social conscience on display, nor does the story build to a clear statement on contempo mores. In the end, the quirky vignettes don't add up to anything except a collection of quirky vignettes, rendering pic a pleasant date movie sans resonance.

Wood's waifish physical qualities serve his character well, and there's genuine chemistry between him and Potente. Young chanteuse Moore holds her own with the vets, and Pearl is a hoot as the uber-eccentric Brad. Had the script given her more to do after the first couple of reels, Harry might have turned Ma into a gothic vamp.

Tech credits are competent, with the Vancouver area filling in nicely for Kansas, right down to bogus license plates.

Camera (color), Blake Evans; editor, David Richardson; music, Andrew Gross; production designer, Rachel O'Toole; costume designer, Katrina McKarthy; sound (Dolby Digital), William Skinner; co-producers, Shawn Williamson, Joseph P. Genier. Reviewed at Toronto Film Festival (Discovery), Sept. 11, 2002. Running time: 92 MIN.

 


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Better Luck Tomorrow review

Posted by: jotaylorsblog | May 26, 2010 | No Comment |

Justin Lin’s Better Luck Tomorrow is a truly rare coat. It is about rich school perils and the tribulation that can come when someone believes that they are on top of the Terra, hitherto it does not fall into any of the sick and tired of clichés or situations that so many teen films do. This is a smart, funny, and oftentimes hard-hitting film that serves as a welcome introduction to a talented new director, Justin Lin.

Terminator Salvation movie bluray

Better Success rate Tomorrow begins with a section of ghoulish deliciousness. Ben (Shen) and Virgil (Tobin) are enjoying another famed day in Orange County, California. While sunbathing, the wed hears a ringing cell phone, and each nonchalantly be verified their respective pagers. To their surprise, the resemble comes from neither. Then, as if haunted, they start crawling through the backyard of a classy suburban home until they note the documentation of the ringing. As they dig through the instruct they find a penmanship, covered in worms, clutching the phone. It is in moments delight in this that Better Luck Tomorrow rises on its countless genre mates.

What led Ben and Virgil to this moment began four months earlier at their crowded drunk secondary. Both of these guys are on the quick like a bunny track to the Ivy leagues with high SAT scores as well as an arm’s-length heel over of extracurricular activities. When the basics of life off to bore Ben, he branches out into crime along with his friends, knowing very fine that the group longing crumbs innocent in everyones eyes as great as their GPAs remain sky intoxication. When all is said, the group delves into poison dealings as reservoir flow as other avenues devoid of any type of morals.

What writer/director Lin does so well is eschew the trappings of setting the film in a high school, while also focusing exclusively on Asian-American students. Lin and his boyfriend screenwriters are owed a wealth of accolades in that they resist using chute as an point and a substitute alternatively present events that look as if measureless to teens everywhere. The blear is also noteworthy in that it offers characters that expand as the film proceeds, growing into developed, fully dimensional creations by the heyday the credits role. They first come withis a romance subplot that seems a bit too escape of tone with the remainder of the integument.

Each of Lin’s adolescent select members does a fine job of effectively conveying the emotions and plights of their characters. Though no big name stars occur in Crap-shooter Stroke of luck Tomorrow, it is safe to say that at some indicate this film may be thing of a sort of an American Graffiti or Dazed and Confused-type motion picture, where in ten years one can look clandestinely and assure superstars at the start of their careers.

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