March, 2010

Mini Reviews (January 2006) V…

March 20th, 2010 March 20th, 2010
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Mini Reviews (January 2006)

Venom

,

The Land of College Prophets

,

Tristan + Isolde

,

Last Holiday

,

They Shoot Movies, Don't They?

,

Annapolis

,

American Women




Venom




(January 7/06)


From director Jim Gillespie and producer Kevin Williamson comes this generic slasher flick revolving surrounding a aggregation of teens that are terrorized by a psychopath, a situation that's exacerbated by the fact that said psychopath is possessed by the souls of 13

other

psychopaths.

Venom

is, for a while, surprisingly virtuous insofar as contemporary slashers are active; the setup is sound, there are a few best kills, and the actors are remarkable (if altogether bland). But the voodoo stuff - previously irritating but easy to ignore - becomes exceed more prominent than lone would close to, and the film eventually degenerates into a conventional and hackneyed mess. The relentlessly ignorant sky and surprising absence of gore certainly doesn't employees matters, nor does the classification of a bizarre subplot revolving surrounding one of the characters' fractured relationship with his forebear (who well-deserved happens to be the killer). There's a woman serviceable moment towards the cessation in which one character sacrifices their life for another, but the majority of

Venom

's latter half is flat-out

tedious

(although one can't servants but admire the sequence featuring rhyme hapless victim's death by paint).
at large of


Where to start? Inept and nonsensical virtually from minute one,

The Land of College Prophets

is an excruciating, thoroughly interminable piece of work that will undoubtedly test the patience of even the most seasoned moviegoer. There is absolutely

nothing

here that works, and it's impossible not to wonder just what the filmmakers originally set out to do (the final product can't possibly bear any resemblance to their intent). The utterly incoherent plot has something to do with a cadre of students/warriors who must save their campus from the dastardly Third Reich Jones. It's clear right off the bat that the film is going for a silly, tongue-in-cheek sort of vibe, but without any compelling characters or a storyline worth following, it doesn't take long for boredom to set in. The relentlessly meaningless dialogue and narration certainly doesn't help matters, nor does the almost complete lack of competent performances. The bottom line is that

The Land of College Prophets

is an inane and pointless mess, one that deserves to sink back into the obscurity from which it emerged.

no stars out of


Tristan + Isolde

marks the latest effort from director Kevin Reynolds, a criminally underrated filmmaker who has only helmed eight films closed the cross of a 25-year life’s work. And though he's had his allotment of flops (

Waterworld

,

Rapa Nui

, etc), Reynolds has long since established himself as joke of the foremost purveyors of recorded epics. And though

Tristan + Isolde

is no

Count of Monte Cristo

or even

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves

, it is nevertheless a much more engaging effort than comparable efforts from accomplished filmmakers such as Ridley Scott (

Kingdom of Islands sky

) and Oliver Stone (

Alexander

). The yarn, revolving all the illicit, ongoing romance between British soldier Tristan (James Franco) and Irish Princess Isolde (Sophia Myles), doesn't bear a lot to submit in terms of involvement; Dean Georgaris' screenplay mainly utilizes melodramatic and predictable conceive twists to start the story forward. And while the film is never abroad-and-out tiring, there's a distinct brains of uneven pacing at form here - as Georgaris attempts (unsuccessfully) to fuse high-octane process with a decidedly low-tone romance. Calm, there's no denying that

Tristan + Isolde

is basically amusing - enough originally to Reynolds' innovative directorial choices and the uniformly superb performances (Franco and Rufus Sewell, in a rare non-slimeball impersonation, are specifically effective).
out of


Last Leave of absence

finds itself saddled with a wildly unfitting marketing throw that portrays the skin as a generic and thoroughly silly comedy with little to present oneself all but the most mixed-up viewer. In reality, the film is actually a surprisingly enjoyable, cranny heartwarming fantasy fro a little woman (Queen Latifah) who learns that she has three weeks to charged and decides to lay out her resilience savings on an extravagant vacation. During her stay at the exclusive Grandhotel Pupp, she proceeds to impair up the lives of one there - including a snooty businessman (Timothy Hutton), his mistress (Alicia Witt), a Senator (Giancarlo Esposito), and a epoch-renown chef (Gerard Depardieu). Based on the 1950 Alec Guiness film of the yet name,

Last Holiday

moves at a chill tread and by crook maintains its sunlight tone smooth through some of the more dramatic moments. Latifah deserves a lot of credit suitable the film's celebrity, as the actress delivers a performance that is far more compelling and intriguing than anything she's done first. The fantastical elements within Jeffrey Price and Peter S. Seaman's screenplay not in a million years show up off as over-the-top, although the inclusion of a number of broadly comedic sequences (ie Latifah's hijinks on the slopes) can't help but feel surplus. In the end,

Matrix Holiday

is an admittedly slight besides undeniably uplifting piece of work that's a unfaltering remedy by reason of the January blahs.
out of



They Shoot Movies, Don't They?

was evidently the source of some controversy when it premiered on the IFC Channel a few years ago, as many viewers were unaware that the film - which often feels like a fairly convincing documentary (despite some seriously amateurish performances) - is actually a complete work of fiction. Once the viewer is aware of that fact, however, it becomes almost impossible to overlook the movie's various deficiencies, which ultimately lend the proceedings an air of interminable pointlessness. Filmmaker Frank Gallagher introduces us to Tom Paulson, a fledgling writer/director who has recently completed principal photography on his self-financed debut. Problems emerge when Paulson realizes he doesn't have enough cash to finish the movie, forcing the would-be filmmaker to hit up his friends and family for a series of loans. There's not much within

They Shoot Movies, Don't They?

that works, primarily due to the incredibly meandering pace with which Gallagher has imbued the film. And though there are a few intriguing moments here and there - mostly involving Paulson's struggle to get his film seen - the movie generally comes off as a short that's unnaturally been expanded to a feature. Gallagher's overly solemn directorial choices serve only to exacerbate the film's problems, but really, the bottom line is that Paulson just isn't a compelling enough figure to base an entire documentary (real or fake) around.

obsolete of

One can't advise but wonder what's governing James Franco's choices as of late, following the one-two what it takes of mediocrity in the guise of

Tristan + Isolde

and in the present circumstances this. Neither film is

hideous

, necessarily, but it's difficult not to expect a whole mountains more from Franco - a trouper who has long-since established himself as a particular of the most promising actors of his generation. The story revolves around a unmanageable moor craftsman who must prove his significance after being accepted at the titular Naval academy, where he shakes things up with his allied cadets and enters into a rivalry with a commanding G-man (Tyrese Gibson). Screenwriter David Collard infuses

Annapolis

with as good as every maxim one associates with films of this nature, something that's unusually stable of the stereotypes that surround Franco's character (including the requisite fat geezer, the brash ladies man, etc). And while

Annapolis

is initially kind of entertaining - thanks primarily to some comely manufacture values and head Justin Lin's sporadically intriguing visual choices - it doesn't take lengthy for the tediousness of Collard's hackneyed pattern to overrule any of the film's positive attributes. Franco does what he can with the material, but is generally Nautical port floundering (that Gibson quickly reveals himself to be a go beyond a thus far lesser talent than Franco certainly doesn't assist matters). By the for the moment

Annapolis

transforms into a third-rate

Rocky

wannabe, it's virtually inconceivable to care about any of this.
doused of


American Daily

, released theatrically over five years ago as

The Closer You Step down off

, is an innocuous, thoroughly forgettable comedy revolving round the extreme lengths five Irish friends will go to for female friendship. Said pals - led by
Kieran (Ian Hart)
- elect to place an ad in a Miami newspaper, with the end being that their small village will thereafter be inundated with beautiful American women. Much like

The Full Monty

and

Waking Ned Devine

in the presence of it,

American Women

takes an assortment of colorful Irish characters and throws them into an admittedly outlandish state of affairs. But the in the cards type of the film's storyline (it doesn't take a genius to symbol at large that Kieran determination after all down on up with a well-message coworker), coupled with an almost oppressively lighthearted vibe, makes it difficult to really solder with any of these quirky characters. This is essentially a textbook pattern of inoffensive relief, and on that train, there's certainly no denying that the cloud delivers literally what it promises.
out of

The Freshman review

March 18th, 2010 March 18th, 2010
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Film student Clark Kellogg (Broderick) arrives in New York on the brink of to start his first term, but within minutes mollify-talking hustler Victor Ray (Kirby) has relieved him of money and impedimenta. When Kellogg later chances across Ray, the latter makes amends by contribution the distraught teen a part-frequently job with his uncle Carmine Sabatini (Brando) who, seen sprawled behind his desk at an Italian ’social club’, looks every inch the Godfather. Kellogg’s first assignment seems fraught with hazards… Writer/director Bergman’s favourable-natured comedy makes brightness of gunsel variety conventions, and humorously underneath- cuts some of the more unpromising aspects of blur academia: Kellogg’s hot water is rendered comical when, at a seminar on Coppola’s The Godfather, he begins to find disturbing similarities between his life and the movie. The casting, obviously to announce ‘, is perfect, and Bergman keeps the various escalating intrigues clipping along at a brisk pace.

The Gigolos review

March 17th, 2010 March 17th, 2010
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This diligently played yet desperately meandering two-hander revolves around London’s surprisingly non-worn out male-escort scene and focuses specifically on the vespers all the time-time travails of endearingly slimy ladies’-man Sacha (Sacha Tarter) and his bashful valet Trevor (Trevor Sather). The tables are turned when Sasha injures his foot on a job and Trevor is contrived to dress for him. Sasha realises that his Mills & Boon-sentence structure suavity doesn’t quite cut the mustard any more and a jealous rivalry develops.

The shaky camerawork and naturalistic performances mark the film’s kinship with quasi-realist sitcoms like ‘The Office’ and ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’. There’s also some enthralling imagery of central London at night, as well as a hint of Paul Schrader to the linking scenes in which Sacha drives to his next tryst – you half expect a Bernard Herrmann music to boot in. Further, as drama, ‘The Gigolos’ is insignificant on perception, and as comedy, it’s unfunny to the point of stylish long-winded – leaving you to deliberate over how Ricky Gervais and Stephen Tycoon would have spun this meaty set-up.

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The Overlooked Suspect: O.J. Is Guilty, But Not of Murder (2008)

March 15th, 2010 March 15th, 2010
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Sweetgrass

If the sounds of the city and modern life make you weary, this
documentary ode to the Old West may be a salve. Filmmaker Ilisa Barbash
captures a snapshot of pastoral America, sans commentary, as shepherds
guide their flocks through Montana's Beartooth Mountains. The stars of
this film? The whistle of the wind, the cries of shepherds, the baaing
of sheep and the rustle of the tall grass. Not rated. At the Lumiere
and Shattuck theaters.

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March 13th, 2010 March 13th, 2010
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array(3) {
["controller"]=>
string(8) "filmfrat"
["action"]=>
string(16) "the_pianist.html"
["module"]=>
string(7) "default"
}

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Saw II (2005)

March 10th, 2010 March 10th, 2010
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Cooking up uncharted Rube Goldberg torture contraptions isn’t adequacy to get “Saw II” out of the intimation of its unnerving predecessor. The notion of victims killing themselves while trying to survive free from traps set by an sinister flair took “Saw” beyond cult hit status to $100 million in worldwide B.O., but new pic lets the air out by divulging the startling mystery that concluded the original. Join this to undecided juggling of the long arm of the law procedural and group-in-distress storylines, and Lions Gate has what looks like a sequel rushed fitted Halloween. Nonetheless, fans will pile in and come move backwards withdraw from for more, followed by killer ancillary biz.

Pre-title shocker sets the table, with a police informer (Noam Jenkins) trapped in a grungy room with a venus-flytrap-type metal device locked around his neck and the key to open it lodged behind one of his eye sockets. Nasty results cue that this will be, as pic’s promotion insists, bloodier than before.

Knowing the trademark of master sadist Jigsaw (Tobin Bell), Det. Kerry (Dina Meyer) immediately recognizes his handiwork when she surveys the informant’s horrific demise, and warns her partner Eric (Donnie Wahlberg).

As Kerry and Eric, along with the S.W.A.T. team, track Jigsaw down to his lab in a factory — while stumbling onto one of his patented torture-tripwire devices along the way–they think the case is wrapped up. But they find a new dilemma: On a lab video console, the cops can see that nine people — including Eric’s son Daniel (Erik Knudsen) — are trapped together in a room. The jig is far from up for Jigsaw.

While “Saw” dropped viewers into a puzzling setting that the chained victims gradually made sense of through flashbacks, “Saw II” strides down what appears to be a straight narrative line, but is nevertheless bogged down in various genre traps of its own.

On one end, the interrogation of the cancer-ridden but devious Jigsaw grows surprisingly tiresome as Eric’s rage as a father is played in distressingly one-note fashion by Wahlberg.

On the other, the victims turn out to be a bunch of screamers and hagglers who are barely distinguishable from one another, led by the dull machismo of drug dealer Xavier (Freddy G) and the smarts of Amanda (Shawnee Smith), back for more torture after she escaped a bear-trap in previous pic.

Bell, afforded here a far larger speaking role than in the first pic, suggests in his deep, scratchy voice, bird-like visage and piercing eyes what his version of Hannibal Lecter could be. He even builds up some sympathy for his madman, but this is delivered by way of a time-consuming backstory. What was delectably mysterious in “Saw” is now made literal, and the revelations aren’t terribly intriguing.

Eric’s lesson, it appears, is that he must pay for planting evidence and being a bad dad, but it all seems a tad out of proportion. Under first-timer Darren Lynn Bousman’s direction, the pace slackens during an overlong chase scene, lessening the impact of what was meant to be a stunner of a closing twist. Ending images make no doubt that a new set of “Saws” will be rolling off of the assembly line.

Original key crew is intact, giving pic an entirely consistent look and sound, distinguished by lenser David A. Armstrong’s talent for flat overhead light that eliminates shadows. In a case of what looks like a jumpy trigger finger at the Avid, editor Kevin Greutert’s cutting is frantic to a completely distracting level.

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Ladies in Lavender review

March 8th, 2010 March 8th, 2010
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That Man From Rio review

March 6th, 2010 March 6th, 2010
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A delightfully asinine thriller (the McGuffin is some stolen Amazonian treasure), wittier than any of the Union spoofs that afterward flooded the market and a good deal racier than Raiders of the Lost Ark. Handsomely spot on getting one’s hands in Brazil, with Belmondo as the cheerfully indestructible ideal who cliffhangs, climbs buildings, imitates Tarzan, parachutes almost into the jaws of a crocodile, and does his nicest to cope with the enchantingly unpredictable Dorléac (late lamented sister of Catherine Deneuve). The dubbing in the transatlantic conception isn’t too disastrous.

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March 5th, 2010 March 5th, 2010
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The Kirlian Witness review

March 3rd, 2010 March 3rd, 2010
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A missus plays amateur detective and uses her unusual prize of telecommunications with harbour plants to remark the killer of her murdered sister.