I have the two-tape VHS set, but haven't watched the show in over 14 years. Like the score a lot.
With all due respect, there's nothing second rate about Dennis Price.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call today his own. He who secure within can say, "Tomorrow do thy worst! For I have lived today!"
Even Clint Eastwood can't dim her brilliance.
God bless it.
Thin, TV movie of the week level drama (the AIDS epidemic is actually announced via a cut to a headline screaming about Rock Hudson) partially redeemed by some fine performances. Everybody deserved better. It never quite gets beyond "Ewwwww, Faggots!" level.
Arch, cutesy, over clever and just as adorable as all get out, so just adorably cutely sweet and adorable and clever that it makes me want to torture Wes Anderson with a chainsaw.
Well made, well acted, almost entirely forgettable.
A handy reminder that Scorsese used to make movies about actual flesh and blood human beings.
A shaggy-dog movie with plenty of energy, and some fine performances from Jason Robards and Norman Wisdom and a supporting cast of great character actors, and a few final unforgettable moments from Bert Lahr.
Frankly ponderous except when Robert Newton livens things up onscreen.
Kind of cool early Technicolor short.
RIP to one of film's great wizards.
How can I have been so blind as to give this film a mere 4 stars? I corrected that!
For all the brilliance of the production and the cool horror elements and the Chariots Of The Gods stuff, this is still just another movie where scientists encounter aliens on a distant planet and say "Hi, little fella!"
Among the most justly neglected works in TV history, a phony hip TWIN PEAKS cyberpunk wannabe that comes to life only when David Warner appears onscreen.
A strangely sympathetic picture of George W. Bush. Stone clearly shows W.'s severe daddy issues without ever apparently considering that few dysfunctional parental relationships have such a high body count.
Trite, familiar fact-based drama with competent performances from a mostly over-qualified cast. Like Downton Abbey -- an elegantly produced sleeping pill.
Essential viewing -- maybe the best film about films ever made.
Aren't we GRUUUUESOME?
And in this corner -- a duck who needs no introduction. That outstanding exponent of clean sportsmanship, that Champion of Champions, your friend and mine, our own, our beloved Daffy "Good To His Mother" Duck.
Find me a labrador and I'll retrieve it!
Wile E. Coyote. Super Genius. I like the way that rolls out -- Wiiiiile Eeee. Coyoteeee, Sooooooooooperrrrrr Geeeeeenyusssssssss!
A great filmmaker -- sadly missed.
Brad Pitt won't have any diffculty playing a zombie, that's for sure.
Terribly terribly dated -- the script and the play are a batch of easy psychological and coming of age tropes, a lot less than meets the eye. Holden's just way too fucking old for the role, there's just no doubt about it.
A splendid actor, one of the best out there -- suck it, Philip Seymour Hoffman.
He seems to have gone away. Shhhhh. Don't disturb him. We don't want him coming back.
Deadly, unfunny would-be comedy.
Take half of a sleeping pill, enough to make you drowsy. Go to the mirror. Remove all expression from your face, let the muscles sag. Keep your eyes half open as the sleeping pill takes effect. Speak in a flat, uninflected monotone, and say whatever words you might have read somewhere, anywhere, without adding anything like expression. Congratulations. You've just delivered a Kevin Spacey performance.