I know...this should've been the alien invasion movie spielberg produced last year
Excrutiating and excrutiatingly funny. Tracy Letts excels in darkly comic poison but never has his sick, sick world felt so grounded in a film.
It's less refined storytelling than District 9, but the overall movement of the film is electricifying. Damon is boss, Sharlto Copley is deliciously wicked, and Jodie Foster she uh..... but yeah, Damon is boss.
In the movie, Mark Wahlberg's character has a gun. If you watch closely, Denzel Washington's character ALSO has a a gun. Which is where they get the title.
My first impression is that it's vapid. The mythic overtones are juicy like the cinematography but the dramatic stakes to back it up are hidden behind stoic portraits and atmosphere. I'll be sifting through the cryptic aftermath for a while.
Van Sant follows the mundane and finds the sublime.
It's thin and sometimes a little forced, but all in all effective as a gothic mood piece.
Not quite as atrocious as I was expecting. When the bad guys die they turn into farts.
Django is a handsome companion to Basterds and I will continue to enjoy both to satisfy my revenge fantasty sweet tooth. However, the Tarantino playground is at its most self-aware here. The familiar signatures become distractions, but not so badly that they harsh the buzz of bloody flamboyance.
The confidence of this film defies its many shortcomings. That is a pleasure in and of itself.
It's a tolerable Batman film that successfully combined the stone, steel, and sconces of Tim Burton's Batman with a kitchy neon makeover. In order to appreciate Batman Forever, one must be either 5-12 years old, or a modest admirer of the Adam West era of Batman when plot was inconsiquential, the dialogue was vapid, and the suspense was cheaper than the price of your popcorn.
The ambition of Hulk is impressive enough to outweigh the lackluster product. It combines, for better or for worse, art house imagery, emotional gravitas, and downright philosophical themes concealed by comic book vapidity. If Ang Lee could've have made Hulk in the wake of something as grounded and visceral as The Dark Knight, this film would have been wholly expressive and a riveting spectacle of a tragic hero.
Despite being predictable and a bit corny, I was eventually won over by its heart-warming laudation of cinema and its pioneers.
Super 8? Moses cocksmacks JJ Abrams. Believe.
De Palma's visual mastery is undermined by his awful writing.
There is a peculiar "family film" quality to this zombie gem that I find compelling and entertaining. It has the cheesy warmth of a bad Home Alone sequel.
It ambitiously attempts to be a sophisticated epic, but over-reaches. Instead it resembles a peculiar kind of plot-heavy exploitation. The eccentricities of the film, however, are it's greatest delights. From Brando's painfully mismatched hair/beard combo to the extensive dialogue replacement, Burn! has plenty B-quality charm. But underneath is a story with heart that shines up through the cracks.
It's very uneven, with a rather dodgy script, but within every few scenes there lies brilliant gems that gleam of something Kubrick.
Keaton should really have a photo up by now. I mean, really.
The clarity of information and the moment-to-moment emotional truth is a most aweing feat at such a vicious pace. Fincher's Dragon Tattoo is precise, technically flawless, and organic on a symphonic level.
It was fun, but lacked any real sense of danger. At no point did I feel there was anything impossible about their mission. Extravegant, maybe.