Suffice it to say I am not a regular consumer of romantic comedies. Most of them seem to offer all the intellectual stimulation of week-old Twinkies. For a movie in this genre to even catch my attention, it has to offer something unique. In this case, director Ridley Scott and Russell Crowe are anything but your typical “RomCom” tag team, so their participation alone is at least worthy of taking note.
Now that he’s making sequels to Pirates of the Carribean, Johnny Depp can hopefully steer clear of films that put people uncomfortably in mind, if just for a moment, of the recent Michael Jackson business. After this and Charlie and the Chocalate Factory, we’re ready to move on, Johnny.
I dimly remember reading Roald Dahl‘s book as a child but, for the life of me, I can’t recall if I ever saw the 1971 adapatation with Gene Wilder. I almost rented it to watch a few weeks ago but the only copy I could get from Netflix was the original pan-and-scan “full” screen edition. I’m sorry, but if there is one thing that this writer does not abide, it’s the butchering of a film’s original image to fit the confines of a TV screen. Thus the Wilder version will go unreviewed here until I can track down a widescreen copy.
Tim Burton‘s other films based on other people’s material have been a mixed bag. Continue reading