Haven’t you noticed, but we’ve been sharing our culture with you all morning?
I was half-tempted to write this entire review in all capital letters, the ol’ interweb’s equivalent of shouting, since that is how virtually every line of dialog is delivered. Watching 300 is similar in effect to being beaten over the head for two hours by a large, very drunk, very angry man. Make that several very large, very drunk, very angry men.
I loved it.
Zodiac was my job. It is not yours.
During its theatrical release, David Fincher’s Zodiac was at least partially marketed as some kind of slasher film from the director of Se7en. This probably accounts for its low numbers at the box office, since the slasher movie crowd is definitely not the target audience for this movie, which has more in common with All the President’s Men than it does with Fincher’s 1995 serial killer movie.
Welcome to Tennessee, the patron state of shootin’ stuff.
As an action film, Shooter is made with great professionalism, using top flight actors and superb production values. None of this disguises the fact that the story is assembled out of well-used spare parts from other movies, not all of which fit together neatly. What emerges is a Frankenstein’s monster that photographs extremely well.
Why can’t you discuss the weather like the other girls?
The most common word used to describe a movie like Miss Potter is “charming,” a word that sometimes raises silent alarm bells with me. The British have another word: “twee.” According to Merriam-Webster, “twee” means “affectedly or excessively dainty, delicate, cute, or quaint,” and, in order to succeed, a film like this has to walk that dangerously thin line between charm and “twee-ness.” Miss Potter walks it so adroitly, it feels almost effortless.
Why would an old faun lie to you?
Guillermo del Toro’s dark tale of Franco’s Spain is either a fantastical allegory for the struggle against oppression or a lyrical testimony to the power of a child’s imagination as an antidote to the horrors of the adult world. The strength of the film is that it works both ways.
I mentioned back in my review of Oliver Stone’s JFK that I was waiting impatiently for Vincent Bugliosi’s book on the assassination (and had been since Stone’s movie came out).
Well, I just found out yesterday that the book had been in stores since May. I can be such a doofus sometimes.
Michelangelo Antonioni, the director of Blow-Up and L’Awentura, has died at the age of 94.
