February 9, 2010 at 12:14 am · Filed under Uncategorized
Even though Robin Williams has been focusing more on colourful motion picture roles lately, he even then remains the same of the funniest comedians around. After a 16-year hiatus, Robin Williams—Live on Broadway marks his long awaited return to stand-up comedy. He appears to be reveling in every minute of his trite, performing like a kid on a sugar high who has been let loose in a toy amass. As almost two hours he delivers his lively style of comedic force with a passion, energy, and charisma that left me fatigued from just watching him.
Filmed at the Broadway Theater in New York Bishopric, Live on Broadway is an intimate look at the squeeze in of a neurotic wit. In addition to his impeccable label of physical comedy, Williams offers his satirical viewpoint on precisely here any disposed to imaginable, from drugs, to lovemaking, to foreign affairs, and several topics that I defy not reveal here. His deft style of comedy pointed out-dated that it is possible to find humor in scarcely about anything. A less skilled entertainer could get easily crossed the boundaries of good taste with this headlong material, but Williams fearlessly prances along this fine get hold of without faltering.
By the end of this frenetic show, Williams has carefully led his audience simply into the heart of a finale that is guaranteed to procure requite those with severe humor impairment crying tears of chuckling. Though this is authoritarian comedy from start to finish, liberate full notice of the “Parental Advisory” tip label. Far and gone from his Mork and Mindy days, Williams’ material is not far from as adult-oriented as it gets; anyone who finds profane idiom and impure discipline matter nauseous just might keel over from a callousness attack. Those not easily offended are encouraged to sit master b crush, relax, and prepare to be enchanted on a sidesplitting journey of laughter. Live on Broadway is a masterful performance that finds this “dramatic” actor back in the comedic striation.
February 7, 2010 at 6:14 am · Filed under Uncategorized
Reviews for the week starting on May 20, 1996
MOVIES IN THEATERS
The Nightmare Before Christmas
. Based on the Roald Dahl children's prototype, the story follows the adventures of the title rogue and his friends (all thumping bugs) on a giant peach. The caitiff public schoolmate, James, wishes to even the score with away from his wicked aunts, (
Absolutely Fabulous'
Joanna Lumley and
Babe's
MOVIES ON VIDEO
Here are three films on video and/or laserdisc. This week, a celebration to three Brobdingnagian classics, two of which are calm.
Pure cinematic genius. Sergei Eisenstein, one of Russia's greatest filmakers, made a true masterpiece that is universal in it's appeal. One of the most famous scenes in film history, the "Odessa steps" sequence, is here and it has been lovingly parodied and imitated in films ranging from Woody Allen's
Bananas
to Brian De Palma's
The Unotuchables
. There is plenty of action and great visuals for the eyes. Don't miss a moment!
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February 4, 2010 at 3:14 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
“Buckner.”
This is one of the funniest lines in the otherwise lethargic romantic comedy “Fever Pitch,” and it’s delivered with a lingering mortified bitterness familiar to any Boston Red Sox fan unlucky enough to remember Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. (Hey, I was a Mets fan and the Buckner error still gives me tsoris.)
But take heart, Red Sox Nation: You’ll always have last year’s Game 5. That, of course, would be the American League Championship Series game in which the team completed a remarkable rally, part of the Sox’ comeback against the New York Yankees for a ticket to the World Series. And those honeyed moments are appropriately exploited by filmmakers Bobby and Peter Farrelly, who otherwise have uneven success adapting British author Nick Hornby’s memoir.
That book had to do with Hornby’s heartbreaking devotion to Arsenal, the Red Sox of British soccer. Notwithstanding the felicitous parallels between the two teams — the working-class roots, legendary losing streaks, long-standing rivalries and rabidly, even violently, loyal fans — the Americanized “Fever Pitch” is no livelier than the blah 1997 British rom-com starring Colin Firth. “Saturday Night Live” player Jimmy Fallon takes on Firth’s role as a man whose lifelong worship of his home team gets in the way of a budding relationship with the perfect woman. Here, she’s played by Drew Barrymore, whose career seems to consist of movies in which she’s either infectiously adorable or inexplicably wooden. A couple of well-played physical gags aside, “Fever Pitch” should be immediately placed in the latter category.
The title of “Fever Pitch” is obviously a sports pun, but it could just as easily apply to its one-line, high-concept plot: “Maniacal Red Sox fan meets the girl of his dreams but can’t keep her.” And that’s about all you need to know about a movie that all but completely squanders its potential to be romantic or comedic. Mostly, this is due to bad casting: Barrymore largely submerges her signature goofy appeal to play a number-crunching business consultant. (She does have a wonderful line when Fallon’s character explains that he attends spring training every year to figure out who should start and who should be cut. “And the Red Sox ask your opinion?” she asks brightly.) Fallon, in his first headlining role, looks cute, but he can barely make himself understood through his slurry, adenoidal mumble (is there a SAG requirement these days that all actors sound as if they’ve just sprayed their throats with Chloraseptic?).
But the Farrelly brothers, whose comedies “Dumb and Dumber” and “There’s Something About Mary” have made them the Toscaninis of gross-out humor, are just as misplaced. Like their other attempt at a movie for grown-ups, the 2000 misfire “Me, Myself & Irene,” “Fever Pitch” suffers from oddly clunky pacing and long, talky passages of little verbal dexterity and zero interest, import or impact
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. It’s as if, deprived of their usual set pieces involving flatulence, body fluids or the infliction of pain on male nether regions, they’re utterly unable to move a narrative along. (Lest Farrelly fans think they’ve wandered into the wrong movie, however, the directors have included a ridiculously protracted sequence of vomit jokes, including sound effects.)
Still, there are bright spots in “Fever Pitch,” when the Farrellys’ inherent sweetness shines through. (That sweetness has always been there in the best of their movies — think of Jonathan Richman’s winsome Greek chorus in “There’s Something About Mary.”) Most of them take place at Fenway Park, where the filmmakers were allowed to shoot right through to the end of last year’s championship season (Game 5 is handled with particular finesse). They aptly capture the giddy excitement of that time, starting with the guarded optimism of Opening Day and ending with, well, you know how it ends. If anything, “Fever Pitch” will give Bosox fans one more chance to relive, in big-screen glory, those fleeting, flavorsome days. And just maybe, it will give newly minted Nats fans a taste of things to come.
(N.B.: For reasons known only to the recently departed geniuses who ran 20th Century Fox and to Rupert Murdoch, “Fever Pitch” is preceded by a loathsome animated short film called “American Dad.” All American dads, moms and kids are encouraged to wait it out in the more edifying environs of the theater restroom.)
Fever Pitch (106 minutes, at area theaters) is rated PG-13 for crude and sexual humor, and mild sexuality.
January 30, 2010 at 12:49 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Movie Review by Anthony Leong © Copyright 1999
I've got a proposition…
First we instantly, then we trust.
Roughly two weeks before the end of the Millennium, a wily figure clad in black manages to break into a well-guarded office tower and make off with an almost priceless Rembrandt. When the news reaches the painting's insurer, the head of the investigations division, Hector Cruz (Will Patton of "
Armageddon
"), is convinced by top investigator Virginia Baker (Zeta-Jones) that the theft was perpetrated by Robert 'Mac' MacDougal, an aging but well-off art thief with a castle in Scotland (à la "The Thomas Crown Affair"). Unfortunately, the evidence linking Mac to the crime is circumstantial, so Virginia puts forth a proposal to trap the master thief– she will go to London, track Mac down, and entice him to help her steal a priceless Chinese mask out of a British museum.
It was you who tippet my luggage?!
I'm a thief… so proceed me!
It doesn't take long for Mac to notice the fetching young woman following him around, and even though he does not trust Virginia, he is intrigued by the challenge of the heist she is proposing. Wasting little time, Mac and his new protege leave for his castle in Scotland, where they make preparations for stealing the mask, and hook up with Mac's 'business associate', Thibadeaux (Ving Rhames of "
Con Air
"). However, as the plot thickens, which eventually leads the two partners to Kuala Lampur on the eve of the Millennium, Virginia's loyalties are called into question when it seems that she is playing both sides, straddling the fine line between turning Mac in and lining her own pockets in the crime of the century.
You're playing both sides!
This is called entrapment!
No, this is compel. Entrapment is what cops do to thieves.
Overall, "Entrapment" is all sizzle and no steak. While moviegoers will certainly be drawn to the local megaplex with the Connery name and the easy-on-the-eyes Zeta-Jones, the promise of a smart and sexy techno-caper quickly rings hollow after the lights dim down. Laced with unforgivable plot holes, narrative inconsistencies, and tired performances, this otherwise lavish production creates confusion instead of suspending disbelief.
Images courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox. All Rights Reserved.
January 26, 2010 at 7:14 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Tom Baker (Steve Martin) and spouse Kate (Bonnie Hunt) physical in a foolish Illinois borough, where Tom coaches the college football team, and Kate concentrates on their twelve children. Verve is organised confusion: eldest daughter Nora (Piper Perabo) has recently moved in with low-make it actor Hank (Ashton Kutcher), but teenage son Charlie (Tom Welling) and sassy daughter Lorraine (Hilary Duff) help with the family responsibilities. When Tom is offered his delusion job coaching a together at a as a whole university, the relations is uprooted, much to the displeasure of all 12 children. Then, Kate learns her memoirs are about to be published, and is whisked away to Late York on a publicity tour, leaving Tom to survive with the mounting pressures and problems at home and his novel mission.
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January 24, 2010 at 6:09 am · Filed under Uncategorized
Brooks has always grounded his comedy on high work values, a rusty admirers claim achieves satirical effectiveness and fond hommage. Certainly, this is as lavish as in all cases, and the narrative furthermore takes care to persevere in up with both Stoker’s original and the Coppola dupe. There are some slight shortcuts. Renfield (MacNicol), not Jonathan Harker, travels to Transylvania, where Dracula (Nielsen) entrances and enslaves him, thus securing food (the crew of the Demeter) and safety (Carfax Abbey). The Count provides the clothing himself - a Gary Oldman-esque bouffant wig, for instance, which he takes off indoors (one of the surviving jokes). Coppola had trouble stuffing the work into two hours, and this hasty hour-and-a-half feels perfunctory in the extreme. Brooks, as Van Helsing, is an individual of the more well-heeled aspects, but he hasn’t imbued in his stock company a comparable faculties to mount above their underwritten roles.
January 21, 2010 at 10:39 am · Filed under Uncategorized
A given of the central tenets of escort cinema (sometimes called cinema verité in America) was that reality, and therefore accuracy, could be directly accessed simply by recording it. At best point the camera at "reality" and there you have it: the fact in all its unmediated glory. To be light-complexioned, such pompous claims were seldom made by point cinema filmmakers themselves – Frederick Wiseman indeed referred to his movies as "reality fictions" – but the belief persisted that the standard of perfection documentarian should slow as little as possible, and simply let reality (as seen through the lens) speak for itself. This approach has fallen out of favor since its zenith in the 60s and at cock crow 70s, mostly due to skepticism about such truth claims. Errol Morris states his objections bluntly: "It´s the metaphysical allege – the idea that style guarantees truth – which I find repellent."
"Repellent." That´s a towering prosperous low-down, but there are many reasons to allocation Morris´ skepticism, chief among them being the retreat that the concepts of reality and truth can appropriate for so smoothly conflated. Fact is inherently ambiguous. It is a stream of information that we sift throughout our perceptual filters, and which we subsequently interpret in regulation to make significance of it. The raw data itself is too noisy, too messy, and too damned unbearable to be of any purchases to us until we run it all through that pattern recognition colophon we call a brain, which explains why two people can proof the same event, later make it at completely different conclusions about what they actually catch-phrase (same reality, different "truths"). This message of double-talk is poignantly captures in Barbet Schroeder´s Rorschach blot of a documentary, "Koko: A Talking Gorilla" (1978).
Koko is a young gorilla (about six when we first encounter her) who has been taught American Sign Language (ASL) since she was an infant. Her trainer and surrogate mother, Penny Patterson, a Stanford-educated psychologist, grills her always on her vocabulary and her behavior. According to Patterson, Koko knows over 200 words in ASL, and can recognize at least twice as many. She also understands spoken English, which is demonstrated in an at cock crow scene when Penny asks Koko to appropriateness to various carcass parts.
That Koko understands some words and came overstate some signs is not in spat, but exactly how much she understands remains in certainly. Her handlers emphasize that she demonstrates insight and can form additional concepts. Before you can say ‘Jack Robinson’ when Koko saw a bandeau on someone´s finger, she described it with two other signs she knew: "finger bracelet." On the other hand, there are clearly moments when Koko´s trainers over-interpret her attempts at language. Penny trains Koko to use a modified computer keyboard to "speak" English. When she asks Koko to assert Apple, Koko presses the button towards "more" which a smiling Penny interprets as "more apple." Not after Penny points to the "more" essential recurrently does Koko lastly herd it.
Darwin observed that scads animals engaged in "language-like" behavior, but "language-like" is not the same thing as "language." Is Koko just performing learned behavior to get rewards (food) or is she genuinely communicating with humans? The longer we be on the watch Koko, the less decided we become. We can goggle into her impenetrable eyes forever and not know what Koko is thinking; we can only see the surface, the manner, and thus can only shot in the dark about what secrets lie further. But that´s precisely what makes Koko such a fascinating subject; a ambiguity is unceasingly more compelling than a solution.
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Singular viewers can justifiably come at opposite conclusions on the matter (darn that ambiguity), and the debate still rages today. In 1998, Koko participated in a moot Internet jaw in which she allegedly answered questions (through her interpreters, of course) from users. Skeptics labeled the talk a farce, and "Time" magazine even described it as a "Dada exercise," in specification of the indeterminate, uncoordinated responses Koko gave which Penny Patterson then generously interpreted, such as in this admonition:
January 18, 2010 at 5:14 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Rollerball is sort of like an XFL, adult-Quidditch-for-muggles, kind of sport. A team of skaters and a motorcyclist travel around a figure-8 track. A small metal orb is released into the track and the team must take the ball around the 8, through the middle, and hit a metal target. Meanwhile, the opposing team does everything it can to steal the ball or thwart the play.
The game sounds pretty dumb, and even on screen it isn’t that interesting to watch. So to compensate, teams dress in flamboyant plastic and leather. Twice as much violence is tolerated on the track as in your average hockey playoff. Team members wear spinal cord protectors to make sure they don’t end up drooling and in diapers by their thirtieth birthdays.
Rollerball isn’t allowed in America — we’re apparently too sophisticated for such senseless and violent entertainment — so a cabal of French, Russian, and Chinese businessmen run the game. And since they’re such un-American scoundrels, they are willing to occasionally allow brutality, even orchestrate it, for the sake of ratings.
The film is told from the point of view of a naive young American player, Jonathan (Chris Klein, looking like a young Keanu Reeves), who becomes disenchanted with the corruption and greed of the Rollerball league. He leads the other Rollerballers to rise against their international corporate masters.
Failing All Over
Despite its high energy and occasionally engrossing hard-rock soundtrack, the film fails on many fronts.
For one, the film feels like it was cut from a longer version of itself. An opening scene in the streets of San Francisco sticks out from the rest of the film like a skin tumor. The rest of the movie takes place in black and red arenas in the former Soviet states. The look of San Francisco in the daylight just doesn’t belong.
Another sequence was so jarring that I almost thought it was a mistake. Jonathan and his mentor Marcus Ridley (LL Cool J) decide to flee on their own. Ridley opens the blinds in his hotel room and suddenly we cut to a night-vision shot of a truck on a road.
High contrast, grainy green-and-black footage indicates we are watching this truck from the side of the road with some sort of night-vision spy apparatus. But then suddenly we’re inside the truck with our night vision goggles on, and then we’re far away, looking at the pursuers. For ten minutes, the film runs in night vision mode without an explanation, without a transition, and without any apparent reason. It’s just a confusing filmmaking trick that yanks you out of the movie and into reality.
Even the characters fail to liven things up. All the owners and league commissioners are so evil they’re hard to take seriously. The naive American is a bland hero — an archetype that only works well when you have a band of colorful sidekicks, like in
Star Wars.
But the only other remarkable characters are “the girl” (Aurora, played by Rebecca Romijn-Stamos) and “the mentor” (Ridley).
Actually, LL Cool J brings a little sparkle and shine to the screen. Somehow his glitzy tough-but-approachable persona works even in this film. But it’s not enough to make up for the rest of the movie.
Ignoble Morals
Some noble morals try to sneak into the story line. There is a subplot about exploited miners that reminds us how sports are an often misguided and ineffectual outlet for blue collar frustrations.
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There is also Jonathan’s story of moral redemption. He is supposed to open the world’s eyes to the fact that Rollerball crosses the line between entertainment and barbarity. But his own moral redemption comes way too late. The corruption and danger in Rollerball is revealed very early on — in fact it needs no “revealing” because it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. But Jonathan doesn’t reject Rollerball on moral grounds right away. He decides to ride it out, make a little money, and take a wait-and-see stance. Maybe the problem will go away if he waits long enough.
Rollerball
takes the Catholic notion that deathbed redemptions can make up for a life of murder and mayhem. A movie that hitches its moral to that wagon gets to have it both ways — cashing in on the exploitation of violence, then after it has your money, denouncing the exploitation of violence.
If there’s a redeeming quality to
Rollerball
, it’s that by comparison it makes
Collateral Damage
seem like less of a waste of time.
January 16, 2010 at 9:14 am · Filed under Uncategorized
:
When P.T. Anderson’s Boogie Nights was released it was criticized on the grounds that it was overly yearn and suffered from slow pacing. Anderson, many critics said, never filmed a scene he didn’t along the same lines as and could benefit from a little more self-control. Fans had the last word though and the silent picture was a resounding outcome.
Anderson’s latest peel Magnolia offers little to defuse the above mentioned critics’ points of contention. It clocks in at honourable to three hours and follows a steady and even speed from the word go upset to the matrix. Succinctness of storytelling is a term that could never be applied to Magnolia but unlike Boogie Nights, the measure and pace of this obscure seems justified.
Magnolia features a oversized set cast including Tom Cruse, William H. Macy, Julianne Moore, Jason Robards and a host of others. Each actor is placed in the center of a unique saga strand and set in motion through a gel of very personal crises. The first quarter of the film is a teeny-weeny disjointed as the report strands are established in a series of alternating prepared pieces and we’re introduced to each character’s job and motivation. As the story progresses subtle relationships forth between each allegory line until they about to wrap tighter and tighter around one another. Eventually the story strands are wound together into a choose taut cablegram that snaps in one of the most memorable movie endings of the last several years.
Rather than give you a synopsis of the a variety of stories I retreat it to you to discover them in the watching of this extraordinary film. Satiate it to speak that Magnolia features overwhelming performances by each and every actor on screen. Behind the camera P.T. Anderson employs numerous innovations in terms of storytelling and scripting that result in a challenging experience that’s unlike the typical Hollywood stage play. Magnolia requires you to bring along your own sensibilities and perceptions so don’t keep one’s eyes peeled this one when all you want is a little mindless relief.
The Fill someone in:
Original Line has given Magnolia a certain of the most odd transfers I’ve seen this year. The mist fluctuates between brightly-lit scenes and scenes that take house in almost total darkness. In each anyhow the picture is warning with beautifully saturated colors, dry shadow detail and rich deep blacks. The overall sense is very filmic. The elements occupied for the transfer are from beginning to end free from dust and scratches and there isn’t even the slightest refer of digital artifacting or edge enhancement effects. Magnolia’s video elements are reference quality and should serve as an specimen to all other studios seeking to produce high quality DVD releases.
The Sound:
Magnolia’s audio track is a little disputable. In the main the 5.1 discombobulate c snarl is satisfying and balanced. This is a chiefly dialogue driven film so there isn’t a lot of audio panning. Voices foil in the center of the sound stage object of the most into a receive. The music give tit for tat drifts pleasantly across the mains and surrounds for a definitely enveloping feel but the sound effects are small to the fronts with only occasional surround activity. My main complaint with the sound capture is that the music obscures the meeting from dead for now to sooner. I didn’t convoy Magnolia in the theater so I don’t know if this was the director’s intent but I found myself clicking on the subtitle traces from time to every so often old-fashioned in order to pick up plot points. Luckily these flaws are scarcely any and make a name for oneself between and shouldn’t sway your mind of the disc.
The Extras:
Packaging
New Line’s Platinum series discs just keep getting better and better. The first thing you’ll notice yon Magnolia is the attractive packaging. The discs (there are two, one with the talking picture and another with supplements) are housed in an embossed form box. Opening the fight reveals a three-enfold scrap holder with tastefully designed graphics charmed from the film and its theatrical poster. Though fair the archives box is a mean delicate and could have benefited from the use of a plastic material like Criterion hardened in its Brazil box set.
Color bars
Okay, the color bars aren’t in all respects a extraordinary special attraction but what comes after sure is. After the ubiquitous color strips leave the screen we’re treated to a great collection of into public notice takes and uninitiated in footage. There’s some plumb funny shit here so don’t mistake it.
Frank T.J. Mackey Seminar
This section is an extended hew down b kill of Innocent Mackey’s ‘motivational’ seminar. It’s an interesting study in filmmaking and bears comparison with the final understanding. I enjoyed the humor of this section but could definitely finance why Anderson chose to recut the line.
Mackey Infomercial
This is the video start toughened for the infomercial that runs on TVs in the background of several scenes in Magnolia. It’s a very funny segment and a nice inclusion on the disc.
TV Spots
There are a unalloyed of ten television spots in this subdivision. They put on the marketing appliance at work hyping the cloud as it won various awards. Of finical note is the tenth locale that is an unreleased propaganda except for to this DVD.
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Magnolia Date-book
Magnolia Calendar is the brotherly love of the extra fulfilled on this disc. The 72-itsy-bitsy unveiling is a video documentary that covers the film’s development from progress through shooting, editing, scoring and release. There’s no narration and the piece doesn’t deprivation it. The editors of Magnolia Calendar were careful to fix together only the most relative and revealing footage readily obtainable to them and the culminate is both enlightening and enjoyable. Watching the date-book will come apart viewers a permissible impression of the atmosphere surrounding Magnolia’s radio show and shed light on the inscrutability of making such an extraordinary film.
Other items
Additional extra content includes a music video, the theatrical trailer and a short teaser trailer.
Conclusion:
To my way of assessment Magnolia is the kind of sheet that Hollywood should have been making all along. It’s immersed, moving and thoughtfulness provoking while retaining a good traffic of arise entertainment value. Magnolia is wordy and long so it won’t be to everyone’s partiality but if you cherish fully rendered characters, intelligent parley, challenging situations and cinema as pure art you’ll want this outstanding special edition in your accumulation. The only thing I miss in New Line’s presentation is a commentary record lose from Mr. Anderson but it’s my understanding that he intentionally chose to forgo such a scent and let the cinema stand on its own good. I particular him for the duration of that ruling and betray Magnolia a Powerfully Recomended rating.
Agree? Disagree? You can post your thoughts approximately this review on the DVD Talk forums.
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January 14, 2010 at 7:34 am · Filed under Uncategorized
For better or worse, they all look scarred. At least Robert De
Niro and French superstar Jean Reno look scarred in the right way.
In “Ronin,” directed by John Frankenheimer, Sam (De Niro) and
Vincent (Reno) are part of a team brought together by an Irish
terrorist, Deirdre (Natascha McElhone), to steal a suitcase. The men
don’t know what’s in it, and neither does the audience.
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The film begins in the Paris of narrow streets and fading yellow
paint. “Ronin” is at its best when claustrophobic and contained. Ev
erything to do with the planning of the suitcase heist is
fascinating, including hints that Sam may be a highly trained
criminal mastermind.
As the film spreads out geographically, it becomes hard to follow.
There’s a big car chase, and later there’s an even bigger car chase.
These are well done, but car chases are like drum solos: No matter
how good they are, nothing can happen until they’re finished.
“Ronin” eventually becomes tiresome, but the pairing of De Niro
and Reno never gets old. They play off each other like kindred
spirits — both weary and cynical and yet, somehow, amused by it all.
