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(10/24/02 4:00am)
Samuel L. Jackson is one of the best and most prolific actors working today. The sheer number of films he makes necessitates that some be good, others bad and some just smack dab in between -- "Formula 51" (originally known as "The 51st State" in its native England) is the latter. The film is a modestly entertaining hybrid of the works of Quentin Tarantino, Guy Ritchie (himself a Tarantino wannabe) and a "Trainspotting"-era Danny Boyle.\nJackson headlines the flick as Elmo McElroy, a premiere drug designer whose latest creation, P.O.S. Formula 51, is set to turn the illicit drug industry on its head and make him a whole heap of money, as it's 51 times more powerful than crack, heroin, ecstasy, etc. Instead of selling the new wonder drug to his sleazy boss, aptly named The Lizard (Meat Loaf, in a turn so bad that it erases any good memories of his Bob "bitch tits" Paulson performance from "Fight Club," Elmo hightails it to Liverpool, in hopes of pedaling his formula to rival drug dealer, Leopold Durant (Ricky Tomlinson). But there's a snag: Elmo is being trailed by a hitwoman named Dakota Phillips (Emily Mortimer) -- indebted to The Lizard, she's ordered to either kill or keep Elmo alive, whichever best suits The Lizard's business interests. Ironically enough, Dakota is also the ex-girlfriend of Elmo's foul-mouthed soccer hooligan of a guide, Felix DeSouza (Robert Carlyle). Explosions, shoot-outs, explosive diarrhea, an awkward sex scene, a poorly filmed car chase and a barrage of bad language ensue as Elmo and Felix's sordid adventures unfold.\n"Formula 51" rests on the laurels of an excellently choreographed gunfight skillfully shot by director Ronny Yu (whose last flick was the kitsch classic "Bride of Chucky") in the first act of the film, and the chemistry shared between Jackson and Carlyle. Both are infinitely talented performers who elevate the material well beyond what's on the page. Jackson, yet again is the essence of cool, sporting a kilt and cornrows and brandishing a three-iron as a weapon -- he's likable throughout. \n"Formula 51" isn't bad per se, just derivative. Elements that are stolen from other more accomplished films are executed far better in the source material. The flick is never as funny nor as action-packed as it should be. All in all, "Formula 51" is OK, and is probably worth a rental if for no other reason than the performances of Jackson and Carlyle, but it's not nearly euphoric enough to catch at the multiplex.
(10/24/02 4:00am)
"Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?" This was a question posed by Rob Gordon (John Cusack) in the instant classic "High Fidelity," and one that pertains quite literally to Old 97's frontman Rhett Miller's second solo effort, and his first on a major label, The Instigator.\nMiller, with the assistance of super-producer Jon Brion (best known for scoring Paul Thomas Anderson's "Magnolia" or for his work with such artists as Fiona Apple, Aimee Mann and the irreplaceable Elliott Smith), has crafted a boisterous pop nugget held together by Miller's heartfelt vocalizations of his own lovelorn lyrics.\nMany will compare The Instigator to Ryan Adams' Gold, in that it's an album produced by an artist known primarily for his alt-country stylings who happened to veer into the realm of pop. While not quite as accomplished as Gold, the album still proves to be an entertaining listen.\nMiller kicks the album off in high fashion with "Our Love," a likable, country-tinged rocker with a chorus sounding eerily similar to the "Party of Five" theme song. This soon segues into the slightly whiney yet moving first single "Come Around," in which Miller sadly croons repeatedly, "Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life?" Hence the correlation between "High Fidelity" and The Instigator is clearly drawn. This is "sad bastard music," done happily.\nLater tracks warranting attention include "Things That Disappear," a straightforward rocker co-written by Brion; "The El," in which Miller gets to fully embrace his hillbilly hepcat past; and the saccharin-sweet yet infinitely well crafted love tunes "World Inside the World," "Your Nervous Heart" and "Terrible Vision." Misses include "This Is What I Do" and "I Want to Live," which sound so generic they leave Miller stranded in Matchbox 20 territory. And "Four-Eyed Girl," Miller's stab at New Wave, sounds like the worst song Ric Ocasek never wrote.\nAll in all, The Instigator is a slickly produced pop album, likable but nothing revolutionary. Fans of Miller's will no doubt dig it, but they'll also long for his return to the Old 97's.
(10/24/02 4:00am)
Hollywood's done it again, folks. Just when you thought those "sharks" in suits couldn't become anymore pansy -- they have. The geniuses at 20th Century Fox have decided to indefinitely halt the release of "Phone Booth," a high-concept thriller originally set for release around Thanksgiving, due to the recent attacks of the infamous D.C. sniper.\nWhen is this whole scenario of commerce designed as censorship and censorship designed as commerce going to stop? Within the past few years alone, many films of merit have been shelved because some exec's quaking in his or her panties.\nJust look at "O," the modern-day, high school-set adaptation of William Shakespeare's "Othello" starring Mekhi Phifer, Julia Stiles and Josh Hartnett (who turned in a career-best performance). Sure, students attacked and even killed their peers in the film, but that's the damned story! That's "Othello!"\nIt's tragic that two socially maladjusted screw-ups felt it was necessary to enter Columbine High School, pipe-bombing and shooting their way through the halls and corridors that fateful day of April 20, 1999. My heart goes out to the injured and deceased, as well as their families and friends, but does it truly warrant the misappropriation of a tried and true adaptation of a timeless classic by one of the foremost creative powers ever? I think not.\nOr what about Martin Scorsese's oft-delayed period piece, "Gangs of New York?" Miramax (a studio once heralded for its brass and bravado) halted the film's release in wake of Sept. 11 last Christmas.\nOK, I understand the flick takes place in New York City, and that it will undoubtedly contain an onslaught of violence (hence the title), but it's New York City circa the 1800s. The delay is hardly relevant.\nBob and Harvey Weinstein, the two brothers behind the new Disney-fied Miramax, assumed viewers wouldn't want to see a bold, bloody gangland drama that chronicled the inception of the New York City we know and love today.\nWrong. If buzz counts for anything, this is going to be the best thing Scorsese's done since "Goodfellas" and will finally break his string of crap, i.e. "Kundun" and "Bringing Out the Dead."\nThe shelving of "Gangs" draws some extraneous questions and quibbles. If Scorsese's film necessitated a delay, then why were a bevy of war films released last year? War was a subject far closer to home than the New York draft riots of 1863, and yet "Behind Enemy Lines," "Black Hawk Down," "Hart's War," "We Were Soldiers" and "Windtalkers" marched into theaters one after the other.\nWell, the logic behind this is quite simple: studios smelled the nationalism that matriculated through our society for all of three months, and they realized there was money to be made. And what's up with digitally removing the World Trade Center from movies, i.e. "Spider-Man" and "Zoolander," and recalling cool promotional materials such as one-sheet posters featuring the Twin Towers (again "Spider-Man")?\nStudios kept on saying that they were looking to respect the memory of Sept. 11 by shelving films like "Gangs," and yet they're unwilling to let the memories live on in eternity within the pantheons of pop culture? \nSo, returning to "Phone Booth," the flick's about a slimy New York P.R. man by the name of Stu Shepard (portrayed by hot up-and-coming Irish actor Colin Farrell) who picks up a ringing pay phone receiver only to be told that if he hangs up, he'll be shot and killed. To prove that he's not full of piss and vinegar, the assailant targets Stu with a laser sight via a sniper rifle.\nA vast majority of the flick takes place in that booth, a novel idea if I ever heard one. The film was shot in 10 days on a budget of 2 million bucks (cheap by Hollywood standards) … pretty cool, huh? As directed by the much-maligned Joel Schumacher (yes, the same man who put nipples on the Batsuit), the film looks interesting. This despite the fact that Schumacher single-handedly ruined the "Batman" franchise.\nBut he's also the man behind "The Lost Boys," "Falling Down," "A Time to Kill" (the best John Grisham adaptation to date) and "Tigerland" (the small-scale Vietnam saga that marked Farrell's American debut), this should be evidence enough that the man produces more than just clunkers.\nSchumacher has been ardently attempting to avoid the delay; he was quoted on IMDB.com as saying that comparisons between the flick and the real-life events are "different cases" and that he hadn't even thought about negative parallels. Schumacher says, "I mean, there are many serial killers that haven't been caught. Should they not release 'Red Dragon?'" The man's got a point.\nFor those pundits out there who blame films such as "Phone Booth" or first-person-shooter video games for the recent tragedies in D.C., I've got this to say to you -- quit using the entertainment industry as a scapegoat for societal difficulties, assemble whatever stones you have (measly as they may be) and grab yourself a clue.\nAs the homicidal momma's boy Billy Loomis (Skeet Ulrich) once told Neve Campbell's Sidney Prescott character in "Scream" (another film blamed for random acts of violence), "Movies don't create psychos. Movies make psychos more creative."\nHell, even the crazy kid's catching on.
(10/23/02 5:31am)
"Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?" This was a question posed by Rob Gordon (John Cusack) in the instant classic "High Fidelity," and one that pertains quite literally to Old 97's frontman Rhett Miller's second solo effort, and his first on a major label, The Instigator.\nMiller, with the assistance of super-producer Jon Brion (best known for scoring Paul Thomas Anderson's "Magnolia" or for his work with such artists as Fiona Apple, Aimee Mann and the irreplaceable Elliott Smith), has crafted a boisterous pop nugget held together by Miller's heartfelt vocalizations of his own lovelorn lyrics.\nMany will compare The Instigator to Ryan Adams' Gold, in that it's an album produced by an artist known primarily for his alt-country stylings who happened to veer into the realm of pop. While not quite as accomplished as Gold, the album still proves to be an entertaining listen.\nMiller kicks the album off in high fashion with "Our Love," a likable, country-tinged rocker with a chorus sounding eerily similar to the "Party of Five" theme song. This soon segues into the slightly whiney yet moving first single "Come Around," in which Miller sadly croons repeatedly, "Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life?" Hence the correlation between "High Fidelity" and The Instigator is clearly drawn. This is "sad bastard music," done happily.\nLater tracks warranting attention include "Things That Disappear," a straightforward rocker co-written by Brion; "The El," in which Miller gets to fully embrace his hillbilly hepcat past; and the saccharin-sweet yet infinitely well crafted love tunes "World Inside the World," "Your Nervous Heart" and "Terrible Vision." Misses include "This Is What I Do" and "I Want to Live," which sound so generic they leave Miller stranded in Matchbox 20 territory. And "Four-Eyed Girl," Miller's stab at New Wave, sounds like the worst song Ric Ocasek never wrote.\nAll in all, The Instigator is a slickly produced pop album, likable but nothing revolutionary. Fans of Miller's will no doubt dig it, but they'll also long for his return to the Old 97's.
(10/23/02 5:15am)
Samuel L. Jackson is one of the best and most prolific actors working today. The sheer number of films he makes necessitates that some be good, others bad and some just smack dab in between -- "Formula 51" (originally known as "The 51st State" in its native England) is the latter. The film is a modestly entertaining hybrid of the works of Quentin Tarantino, Guy Ritchie (himself a Tarantino wannabe) and a "Trainspotting"-era Danny Boyle.\nJackson headlines the flick as Elmo McElroy, a premiere drug designer whose latest creation, P.O.S. Formula 51, is set to turn the illicit drug industry on its head and make him a whole heap of money, as it's 51 times more powerful than crack, heroin, ecstasy, etc. Instead of selling the new wonder drug to his sleazy boss, aptly named The Lizard (Meat Loaf, in a turn so bad that it erases any good memories of his Bob "bitch tits" Paulson performance from "Fight Club," Elmo hightails it to Liverpool, in hopes of pedaling his formula to rival drug dealer, Leopold Durant (Ricky Tomlinson). But there's a snag: Elmo is being trailed by a hitwoman named Dakota Phillips (Emily Mortimer) -- indebted to The Lizard, she's ordered to either kill or keep Elmo alive, whichever best suits The Lizard's business interests. Ironically enough, Dakota is also the ex-girlfriend of Elmo's foul-mouthed soccer hooligan of a guide, Felix DeSouza (Robert Carlyle). Explosions, shoot-outs, explosive diarrhea, an awkward sex scene, a poorly filmed car chase and a barrage of bad language ensue as Elmo and Felix's sordid adventures unfold.\n"Formula 51" rests on the laurels of an excellently choreographed gunfight skillfully shot by director Ronny Yu (whose last flick was the kitsch classic "Bride of Chucky") in the first act of the film, and the chemistry shared between Jackson and Carlyle. Both are infinitely talented performers who elevate the material well beyond what's on the page. Jackson, yet again is the essence of cool, sporting a kilt and cornrows and brandishing a three-iron as a weapon -- he's likable throughout. \n"Formula 51" isn't bad per se, just derivative. Elements that are stolen from other more accomplished films are executed far better in the source material. The flick is never as funny nor as action-packed as it should be. All in all, "Formula 51" is OK, and is probably worth a rental if for no other reason than the performances of Jackson and Carlyle, but it's not nearly euphoric enough to catch at the multiplex.
(10/17/02 4:28am)
Writer/director Roger Avary has finally eclipsed the shadow of former collaborator Quentin Tarantino with his adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis' novel "The Rules of Attraction." Avary earned an Oscar for co-authoring "Pulp Fiction" with Tarantino, and the famous auteur later produced Avary's criminally underseen and/or unfairly maligned "Killing Zoe." With "The Rules of Attraction," Avary moves beyond the realm of the noir-tinged potboiler for which he's best known and into the gray recesses of the dysfunctional post-adolescent psyche, and it's quite a thing to behold.\nJames Van Der Beek headlines the ensemble cast as Sean, the disillusioned, yuppie, drug-pedaling younger brother of "American Psycho" serial killer Patrick Bateman. Sean longs for little more than his next high, that is, until he meets Lauren (Shannyn Sossamon), an elusive little skater chick, and then his thoughts immediately turn to bedding her. She previously dated Paul (Ian Somerhalder), a bisexual currently lusting for Sean, who's straight to dysfunctional proportions. But ideally, Lauren would like to sleep with Victor (Kip Pardue), a self-loving seducer in the midst of a drug-induced European pilgrimage.\nAll of the players in this serio-comedic collegiate nightmare are morally reprehensible. They swig, smoke, snort and screw like it's going out of style. The fact that all this debauchery is presented in such a cool, detached manner rife with humor and irony (minus a well-done, albeit unnecessary and quite shocking, suicide sequence) is the film's saving grace. \nAvary injects "The Rules of Attraction" with style to burn; the film is told in a nonlinear manner and is chock full of cinematic razzle-dazzle, including inventive split-screen shots and the rolling of both sound and picture in reverse. A montage depicting Victor's European vacation in the final quarter of the film is absolutely sublime, elevated to pure genius through Pardue's machine-gun-fire-like line delivery and Avary's choppy editing and DV work.\nSo far as acting goes, Van Der Beek is the real deal in this flick; his transformation from Dawson Leery into the self-described "emotional vampire" Sean is tangible yet startling. Props also go out to newcomer Russell Sams, who portrays Dick, the hilarious, drunken, gay misfit with an acerbic tongue and a predilection towards George Michael classics, and former child star Fred Savage as a clarinet-tooting, chain-smoking heroin addict.\n"The Rules of Attraction" is a fascinating if flawed film that unflinchingly oscillates between hilarity and horror. Those with adventurous cinematic tastes should check it out -- all others need not apply.
(10/17/02 4:00am)
Writer/director Roger Avary has finally eclipsed the shadow of former collaborator Quentin Tarantino with his adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis' novel "The Rules of Attraction." Avary earned an Oscar for co-authoring "Pulp Fiction" with Tarantino, and the famous auteur later produced Avary's criminally underseen and/or unfairly maligned "Killing Zoe." With "The Rules of Attraction," Avary moves beyond the realm of the noir-tinged potboiler for which he's best known and into the gray recesses of the dysfunctional post-adolescent psyche, and it's quite a thing to behold.\nJames Van Der Beek headlines the ensemble cast as Sean, the disillusioned, yuppie, drug-pedaling younger brother of "American Psycho" serial killer Patrick Bateman. Sean longs for little more than his next high, that is, until he meets Lauren (Shannyn Sossamon), an elusive little skater chick, and then his thoughts immediately turn to bedding her. She previously dated Paul (Ian Somerhalder), a bisexual currently lusting for Sean, who's straight to dysfunctional proportions. But ideally, Lauren would like to sleep with Victor (Kip Pardue), a self-loving seducer in the midst of a drug-induced European pilgrimage.\nAll of the players in this serio-comedic collegiate nightmare are morally reprehensible. They swig, smoke, snort and screw like it's going out of style. The fact that all this debauchery is presented in such a cool, detached manner rife with humor and irony (minus a well-done, albeit unnecessary and quite shocking, suicide sequence) is the film's saving grace. \nAvary injects "The Rules of Attraction" with style to burn; the film is told in a nonlinear manner and is chock full of cinematic razzle-dazzle, including inventive split-screen shots and the rolling of both sound and picture in reverse. A montage depicting Victor's European vacation in the final quarter of the film is absolutely sublime, elevated to pure genius through Pardue's machine-gun-fire-like line delivery and Avary's choppy editing and DV work.\nSo far as acting goes, Van Der Beek is the real deal in this flick; his transformation from Dawson Leery into the self-described "emotional vampire" Sean is tangible yet startling. Props also go out to newcomer Russell Sams, who portrays Dick, the hilarious, drunken, gay misfit with an acerbic tongue and a predilection towards George Michael classics, and former child star Fred Savage as a clarinet-tooting, chain-smoking heroin addict.\n"The Rules of Attraction" is a fascinating if flawed film that unflinchingly oscillates between hilarity and horror. Those with adventurous cinematic tastes should check it out -- all others need not apply.
(10/10/02 7:24am)
Last month was without a doubt the worst for filmmaking in the entirety of the medium. Viewers with already questionable tastes were made dumber by the likes of Swimfan, Shi..., uh, I mean City By the Sea, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever, The Banger Sisters, Sweet Home Alabama and The Tuxedo.\nSure, I only saw one of the aforementioned bunch, and probably the worst at that, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever. The only ballistics needed for this cinematic excrement is to count the shotgun blast-sized plot holes dispersed throughout.\nBut c'mon folks, give me a break: as Waterworld, the first in a series of many Kevin Costner mishaps, exemplified, filmmakers should stray from water. The makers of Swimfan and City by the Sea should have known better than to produce these waterlogged thrillers, or someone, I don't care who -- should've thrown them a life preserver. \nChick flicks also reigned supreme, or didn't, in September. If I want to see a movie having the slightest thing to do with early '70s-era rock groupies, I'll re-watch Cameron Crowe's stellar Almost Famous. I don't need to see Goldie Hawn shake her wrinkly, old breasts around in The Banger Sisters.\nAnd what's the deal with Sweet Home Alabama? Sure, Reese Witherspoon is cute, but I don't need to see some recycled piece of romantic comedy crap for $7. If I want to watch some estrogen-filled sap fest, I'll watch "Providence" with my mom (no, not really) or begrudgingly stomach it for free at home with a pretty girl on my arm, watching Lifetime while drinking a beer.\nAs far as The Tuxedo goes … it draws the question, "Jackie Chan, what happened to you?" Where's the badass of Drunken Master 2 or the comedic presence of Shanghai Noon and Rush Hour 2? I'll tell you where...he's taking second billing to Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts (not an entirely bad thing, but I'd still prefer to see the Chan-man's chopsocky pyrotechnics any day) and a bunch of hokey special effects.\nDepressingly, art films didn't fare much better (unless of course you caught Y Tu Mamá También at a Ryder screening; that movie's boss). Just look at Fat Girl, a French film in which a plump adolescent girl is raped moments after her horny sister is needlessly decapitated with an axe. I don't know about the rest of you, but I could do without seeing a fat girl, or a skinny girl for that matter, raped. And September's indie flicks that truly looked like they were worth seeing (i.e. The Catcher in the Rye-esque Igby Goes Down, the highly-touted German psychological thriller Das Experiment and anime maestro Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away) won't come out here until October or November, if at all.\nIt's a sad state of affairs when the high point of my filmgoing month is a Tom Green movie (Stealing Harvard). Even August's disgustingly mass-produced piece of junk, XXX, gave me some sort of fulfillment. At least it got the gears in my demented little brain churning with far-flung thoughts of stealing the highly controversial vote-mobile (the sexy, red Corvette sitting in Dunn Meadow, for those of you living in a cave) à la Xander Cage (Vin Diesel) in the introductory moments of XXX. Whereas Xander had Tony Hawk (in a lame cameo) as a partner in crime, I'd be saddled with two of my buddies, one wearing a beer hat replete with drinking straws and the other wearing an "I'm With Stupid" T-shirt. All the while I'd be doing donuts around Frisbee-tossing hippies, yelling "Welcome to the Alec Zone" and re-enacting my favorite "Grand Theft Auto 3" moments. And I'd be doing it in a manner far more conducive to Tyler Durden than Xander Cage, but then again, we're just talking daydreams here, folks. I'm not built for prison … my skin's too soft.\nLuckily, things look to be getting better. Red Dragon opened last week, and the rest of the month is panning out to be pretty sweet. Friday alone will see the debut of Roger Avary's (Tarantino's Pulp Fiction co-author) much-buzzed-about The Rules of Attraction, the Luc Besson-penned actioneer The Transporter and the J.V. mafia flick Knockaround Guys (yes, even though it stars Diesel, it looks cool).\nLater on in the month, filmgoers will be treated to the likes of Guy Ritchie's Swept Away (despite the negative buzz and the fact that Madonna's in it, I'll still see it -- Ritchie's that good); Michael Moore's (the left-wing genius behind Roger and Me and TV Nation) Bowling for Columbine; Paul Thomas Anderson's eagerly-awaited Punch-Drunk Love; Paul Schrader's Bob Crane (Hogan's Heroes) biopic, Auto Focus; Formula 51 (Samuel L. Jackson in a kilt … I'm there!); and Jackass: The Movie (nothing says fine cinema like a guy stapling his genitals to his leg).\nAgain, cinema saves the day and saves me from a short life in the clink. Just do us all a favor, Hollywood: put Goldie Hawn back in the wax museum where you found her, keep horny teenagers out of the pool and don't make me suffer through any more Midol-induced filmmaking.
(10/10/02 7:12am)
Brotherhood of the Wolf is an inspired and wondrously over-the-top French film sensation that expertly melds highly-stylized kung fu, monster-movie clichés and lavish period drama. Jam-packed with bone-crunching fisticuffs, scantily clad prostitutes and garish maulings via a hell-bent wolf, Brotherhood appeals to the 14-year-old boy who resides within each of us. Sadly ignored upon its stateside release this past winter, the flick is now available on DVD for more astute filmgoers.\nChristophe Gans' film is loosely based on the mythos surrounding the Beast of Gévaudan, which presupposes that a "beast" preyed on villagers in the southwestern mountains of France during the reign of Louis XV. Grégoire de Fronsac (Samuel Le Bihan) and his Native-American counterpart, Mani (Mark Dacascos), are sent to Gévaudan in hopes of quelling the murderous rampage.\nBrotherhood is equal parts The Last of the Mohicans, Sleepy Hollow, Predator, From Hell, Jaws and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, all filtered through animé-tinted shades, thrown into a blender and set on purée. Gans is the French fantasy-film equivalent of Tarantino. He takes beloved elements from other filmmakers' works and infuses them into his own, to winning effect. Brotherhood of the Wolf is a pop-culture fetishist's wet dream.\nHowever, the American single-disc release leaves something to be desired. The transfer and sound mix are excellent, although viewers should avoid the English dub like syphilis. The special features are rather paltry for a flick of this caliber; they include little more than deleted scenes, cast and filmmaker bios, production notes and the film's U.S. trailer.\nThe standout of these minimal extras is undoubtedly the deleted scenes. Gans gives a brief and intelligent preamble to each cut scene (most of which pertain to sex or violence but were excised for continuity purposes). Once each scene has run its course, behind-the-scenes footage is shown and Gans continues his interesting spiel. Ardent fans of the flick would be better off ordering the stacked three-disc Canadian release of Brotherhood on Ebay. But with copies going for upwards of $35, we struggling collegiate film dorks are best off picking up a copy at someplace like Target or Circuit City for under $20. \nThose of you with a strong stomach and a penchant for harnessing your inner 14 year old should catch Brotherhood of the Wolf on DVD.
(10/10/02 6:51am)
The Rolling Stones' Forty Licks, much like Elvis' recent ELV1S: 30 #1 Hits and the Beatles' Beatles 1, which in essence re-spawned the greatest hits album in 2000, is a fairly comprehensive listen into the almost 40-year career of Britain's reigning rock titans.\nForty Licks is packed to the gills with two discs each containing 20 songs -- the first boasting much of the Stones' finest catalogue work of the '60s and early '70s, and the second containing efforts from throughout the '70s, '80s and '90s as well as four new tracks. As the first CD includes mostly older, classic material produced in the Stones' fruitful heyday, it's better by default, but the second disc (and surprisingly enough, the new efforts) are strong as well.\nFar and away the highlight of these new tracks is "Losing My Touch," in which Mick Jagger eschews singing duties and is replaced by the gravely, almost Tom Waits/pseudo-Dylan-esque voice of Keith Richards. The song is a sad, mellow, stripped-down ballad held together through a lilting piano melody. Another new highlight is "Don't Stop," the infectiously romantic and slightly twangy rocker that's currently receiving frequent radio airplay.\nSadly enough, omissions are made; classic tracks such as "Heart of Stone," "Time Is On My Side" and "Waiting on a Friend" are unrightfully excised. But with the literal smorgasbord of Stones' classics included (the first disc alone will astound even the most ardent of Stones' fans oscillating between the snarling rock of "Street Fighting Man" and the beautiful balladry of "Wild Horses"), omitted tracks are soon forgotten, and the collection comes together as a cohesive whole. Also, it's easy to be forgiving when classics are remastered as crisply as they are here. \nInitially, the not-entirely-chronological placement of the tracks is somewhat jarring. Sure, disc one is primarily classics and disc two is mostly newer stuff, but it's irrelevant -- tunes seem ordered in a thematic fashion, as if they were placed there by a meticulous, music-loving friend on a mix tape. Honestly, the non-traditional sequencing of Forty Licks adds a sense of intimacy to the proceedings, and it holds true to the very nature of the Stones -- a bunch of cads who honed their reputation by upturning middle fingers to convention.
(10/10/02 4:00am)
The Rolling Stones' Forty Licks, much like Elvis' recent ELV1S: 30 #1 Hits and the Beatles' Beatles 1, which in essence re-spawned the greatest hits album in 2000, is a fairly comprehensive listen into the almost 40-year career of Britain's reigning rock titans.\nForty Licks is packed to the gills with two discs each containing 20 songs -- the first boasting much of the Stones' finest catalogue work of the '60s and early '70s, and the second containing efforts from throughout the '70s, '80s and '90s as well as four new tracks. As the first CD includes mostly older, classic material produced in the Stones' fruitful heyday, it's better by default, but the second disc (and surprisingly enough, the new efforts) are strong as well.\nFar and away the highlight of these new tracks is "Losing My Touch," in which Mick Jagger eschews singing duties and is replaced by the gravely, almost Tom Waits/pseudo-Dylan-esque voice of Keith Richards. The song is a sad, mellow, stripped-down ballad held together through a lilting piano melody. Another new highlight is "Don't Stop," the infectiously romantic and slightly twangy rocker that's currently receiving frequent radio airplay.\nSadly enough, omissions are made; classic tracks such as "Heart of Stone," "Time Is On My Side" and "Waiting on a Friend" are unrightfully excised. But with the literal smorgasbord of Stones' classics included (the first disc alone will astound even the most ardent of Stones' fans oscillating between the snarling rock of "Street Fighting Man" and the beautiful balladry of "Wild Horses"), omitted tracks are soon forgotten, and the collection comes together as a cohesive whole. Also, it's easy to be forgiving when classics are remastered as crisply as they are here. \nInitially, the not-entirely-chronological placement of the tracks is somewhat jarring. Sure, disc one is primarily classics and disc two is mostly newer stuff, but it's irrelevant -- tunes seem ordered in a thematic fashion, as if they were placed there by a meticulous, music-loving friend on a mix tape. Honestly, the non-traditional sequencing of Forty Licks adds a sense of intimacy to the proceedings, and it holds true to the very nature of the Stones -- a bunch of cads who honed their reputation by upturning middle fingers to convention.
(10/10/02 4:00am)
Brotherhood of the Wolf is an inspired and wondrously over-the-top French film sensation that expertly melds highly-stylized kung fu, monster-movie clichés and lavish period drama. Jam-packed with bone-crunching fisticuffs, scantily clad prostitutes and garish maulings via a hell-bent wolf, Brotherhood appeals to the 14-year-old boy who resides within each of us. Sadly ignored upon its stateside release this past winter, the flick is now available on DVD for more astute filmgoers.\nChristophe Gans' film is loosely based on the mythos surrounding the Beast of Gévaudan, which presupposes that a "beast" preyed on villagers in the southwestern mountains of France during the reign of Louis XV. Grégoire de Fronsac (Samuel Le Bihan) and his Native-American counterpart, Mani (Mark Dacascos), are sent to Gévaudan in hopes of quelling the murderous rampage.\nBrotherhood is equal parts The Last of the Mohicans, Sleepy Hollow, Predator, From Hell, Jaws and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, all filtered through animé-tinted shades, thrown into a blender and set on purée. Gans is the French fantasy-film equivalent of Tarantino. He takes beloved elements from other filmmakers' works and infuses them into his own, to winning effect. Brotherhood of the Wolf is a pop-culture fetishist's wet dream.\nHowever, the American single-disc release leaves something to be desired. The transfer and sound mix are excellent, although viewers should avoid the English dub like syphilis. The special features are rather paltry for a flick of this caliber; they include little more than deleted scenes, cast and filmmaker bios, production notes and the film's U.S. trailer.\nThe standout of these minimal extras is undoubtedly the deleted scenes. Gans gives a brief and intelligent preamble to each cut scene (most of which pertain to sex or violence but were excised for continuity purposes). Once each scene has run its course, behind-the-scenes footage is shown and Gans continues his interesting spiel. Ardent fans of the flick would be better off ordering the stacked three-disc Canadian release of Brotherhood on Ebay. But with copies going for upwards of $35, we struggling collegiate film dorks are best off picking up a copy at someplace like Target or Circuit City for under $20. \nThose of you with a strong stomach and a penchant for harnessing your inner 14 year old should catch Brotherhood of the Wolf on DVD.
(10/10/02 4:00am)
Last month was without a doubt the worst for filmmaking in the entirety of the medium. Viewers with already questionable tastes were made dumber by the likes of Swimfan, Shi..., uh, I mean City By the Sea, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever, The Banger Sisters, Sweet Home Alabama and The Tuxedo.\nSure, I only saw one of the aforementioned bunch, and probably the worst at that, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever. The only ballistics needed for this cinematic excrement is to count the shotgun blast-sized plot holes dispersed throughout.\nBut c'mon folks, give me a break: as Waterworld, the first in a series of many Kevin Costner mishaps, exemplified, filmmakers should stray from water. The makers of Swimfan and City by the Sea should have known better than to produce these waterlogged thrillers, or someone, I don't care who -- should've thrown them a life preserver. \nChick flicks also reigned supreme, or didn't, in September. If I want to see a movie having the slightest thing to do with early '70s-era rock groupies, I'll re-watch Cameron Crowe's stellar Almost Famous. I don't need to see Goldie Hawn shake her wrinkly, old breasts around in The Banger Sisters.\nAnd what's the deal with Sweet Home Alabama? Sure, Reese Witherspoon is cute, but I don't need to see some recycled piece of romantic comedy crap for $7. If I want to watch some estrogen-filled sap fest, I'll watch "Providence" with my mom (no, not really) or begrudgingly stomach it for free at home with a pretty girl on my arm, watching Lifetime while drinking a beer.\nAs far as The Tuxedo goes … it draws the question, "Jackie Chan, what happened to you?" Where's the badass of Drunken Master 2 or the comedic presence of Shanghai Noon and Rush Hour 2? I'll tell you where...he's taking second billing to Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts (not an entirely bad thing, but I'd still prefer to see the Chan-man's chopsocky pyrotechnics any day) and a bunch of hokey special effects.\nDepressingly, art films didn't fare much better (unless of course you caught Y Tu Mamá También at a Ryder screening; that movie's boss). Just look at Fat Girl, a French film in which a plump adolescent girl is raped moments after her horny sister is needlessly decapitated with an axe. I don't know about the rest of you, but I could do without seeing a fat girl, or a skinny girl for that matter, raped. And September's indie flicks that truly looked like they were worth seeing (i.e. The Catcher in the Rye-esque Igby Goes Down, the highly-touted German psychological thriller Das Experiment and anime maestro Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away) won't come out here until October or November, if at all.\nIt's a sad state of affairs when the high point of my filmgoing month is a Tom Green movie (Stealing Harvard). Even August's disgustingly mass-produced piece of junk, XXX, gave me some sort of fulfillment. At least it got the gears in my demented little brain churning with far-flung thoughts of stealing the highly controversial vote-mobile (the sexy, red Corvette sitting in Dunn Meadow, for those of you living in a cave) à la Xander Cage (Vin Diesel) in the introductory moments of XXX. Whereas Xander had Tony Hawk (in a lame cameo) as a partner in crime, I'd be saddled with two of my buddies, one wearing a beer hat replete with drinking straws and the other wearing an "I'm With Stupid" T-shirt. All the while I'd be doing donuts around Frisbee-tossing hippies, yelling "Welcome to the Alec Zone" and re-enacting my favorite "Grand Theft Auto 3" moments. And I'd be doing it in a manner far more conducive to Tyler Durden than Xander Cage, but then again, we're just talking daydreams here, folks. I'm not built for prison … my skin's too soft.\nLuckily, things look to be getting better. Red Dragon opened last week, and the rest of the month is panning out to be pretty sweet. Friday alone will see the debut of Roger Avary's (Tarantino's Pulp Fiction co-author) much-buzzed-about The Rules of Attraction, the Luc Besson-penned actioneer The Transporter and the J.V. mafia flick Knockaround Guys (yes, even though it stars Diesel, it looks cool).\nLater on in the month, filmgoers will be treated to the likes of Guy Ritchie's Swept Away (despite the negative buzz and the fact that Madonna's in it, I'll still see it -- Ritchie's that good); Michael Moore's (the left-wing genius behind Roger and Me and TV Nation) Bowling for Columbine; Paul Thomas Anderson's eagerly-awaited Punch-Drunk Love; Paul Schrader's Bob Crane (Hogan's Heroes) biopic, Auto Focus; Formula 51 (Samuel L. Jackson in a kilt … I'm there!); and Jackass: The Movie (nothing says fine cinema like a guy stapling his genitals to his leg).\nAgain, cinema saves the day and saves me from a short life in the clink. Just do us all a favor, Hollywood: put Goldie Hawn back in the wax museum where you found her, keep horny teenagers out of the pool and don't make me suffer through any more Midol-induced filmmaking.
(10/03/02 4:00am)
"Swingers" emerged from relative obscurity back in 1996 to become one of the most beloved cult movies of our generation -- and rightfully so. It's hip, funny and smart in a way that few youth-oriented films have the audacity to be, and it cemented the careers of cool actors such as Jon Favreau, Vince Vaughn and Ron Livingston ("Office Space"), as well as immensely talented director, Doug Liman ("Go" and "The Bourne Identity"). Finally, after years of availability solely in a bare-bones DVD, Miramax released "Swingers: Collector's Series" -- a disc worthy of this classic flick.\n"Swingers" focuses on Mike (Favreau), a lovesick East Coaster displaced in L.A., and the ups-and-downs he encounters both professionally as a struggling actor/comedian and romantically as he attempts to move beyond the pain of his none-too-recent break-up. "Helping" Mike through his struggles is his best buddy, Trent (Vaughn), a hard-drinking, smooth-talking wannabe seducer. Favreau and Vaughn anchor the film with their strong chemistry (further exemplified in Favreau's "Made") and are ably supported by Ron Livingston as Mike's more sensitive pal, Rob, and Heather Graham as the embodiment of the perfect woman.\n"Swingers: Collector's Series" isn't as loaded as some other recent DVD releases, but it's still a big step up from its predecessor. The disc boasts two separate commentary tracks, the first of which features Favreau and Vaughn doing their hilarious, time-tested illustrated action commentary (also seen on the "Made" DVD), while the other has director Liman and editor Stephen Mirrione. The first track is simply entertaining, whereas the second focuses on the technical aspects of the film. Both are good, just for different reasons.\nAnother cool extra is a documentary entitled, "Making It In Hollywood," which features new interviews with the cast and crew and concerns the writing, production and aftermath of "Swingers." Other extras include mediocre deleted scenes and an inspired trailer for "Swingblade," a curious combination of "Swingers" and "Sling Blade." \nFans of "Swingers" shouldn't wait six days to pick this disc up -- while not as great as it could've been, it's still pretty sweet and well worth the scratch.
(10/03/02 12:22am)
"Swingers" emerged from relative obscurity back in 1996 to become one of the most beloved cult movies of our generation -- and rightfully so. It's hip, funny and smart in a way that few youth-oriented films have the audacity to be, and it cemented the careers of cool actors such as Jon Favreau, Vince Vaughn and Ron Livingston ("Office Space"), as well as immensely talented director, Doug Liman ("Go" and "The Bourne Identity"). Finally, after years of availability solely in a bare-bones DVD, Miramax released "Swingers: Collector's Series" -- a disc worthy of this classic flick.\n"Swingers" focuses on Mike (Favreau), a lovesick East Coaster displaced in L.A., and the ups-and-downs he encounters both professionally as a struggling actor/comedian and romantically as he attempts to move beyond the pain of his none-too-recent break-up. "Helping" Mike through his struggles is his best buddy, Trent (Vaughn), a hard-drinking, smooth-talking wannabe seducer. Favreau and Vaughn anchor the film with their strong chemistry (further exemplified in Favreau's "Made") and are ably supported by Ron Livingston as Mike's more sensitive pal, Rob, and Heather Graham as the embodiment of the perfect woman.\n"Swingers: Collector's Series" isn't as loaded as some other recent DVD releases, but it's still a big step up from its predecessor. The disc boasts two separate commentary tracks, the first of which features Favreau and Vaughn doing their hilarious, time-tested illustrated action commentary (also seen on the "Made" DVD), while the other has director Liman and editor Stephen Mirrione. The first track is simply entertaining, whereas the second focuses on the technical aspects of the film. Both are good, just for different reasons.\nAnother cool extra is a documentary entitled, "Making It In Hollywood," which features new interviews with the cast and crew and concerns the writing, production and aftermath of "Swingers." Other extras include mediocre deleted scenes and an inspired trailer for "Swingblade," a curious combination of "Swingers" and "Sling Blade." \nFans of "Swingers" shouldn't wait six days to pick this disc up -- while not as great as it could've been, it's still pretty sweet and well worth the scratch.
(09/26/02 5:15am)
"Monsters, Inc.," the latest film produced through the team-up of Disney and Pixar Animation Studios (the others being the "Toy Story" films and "A Bug's Life") was one of the most pleasant cinematic surprises of last year. I was initially turned off by the prospect of seeing some ham-fisted kid's flick, contrary to my deep like for the original "Toy Story." I was surprised that the film was not only both side-splittingly funny and very touching at times, but also just as geared towards adults as it was to children. Those of you who shared a similar viewpoint should seek out "Monsters, Inc." now that it's available in a beautifully produced two-DVD set.\nJohn Goodman and Billy Crystal voice the film's protagonists, the lovable galoot James P. Sullivan (Sulley) and his smart-alecky cyclops of a best pal, Mike Wazowski. Both work at Monsters, Inc., Sulley as the company's top "scarer" and Mike as his faithful assistant. All is going well for the two monsters. That is until their overly competitive co-worker Randall (voiced by the irreplaceable Steve Buscemi) unleashes a precious little girl (later dubbed Boo by Sulley) into Monstropolis, while cheating his way towards Sulley's scare record. \nThe computer animation and sound mix are beautifully captured in this stunning THX-certified transfer of the film. This two-disc set also has a bevy of extras that will impress even the most avid of DVD collectors. There are a few shorts included in the set: "For the Birds," which was screened with the film on release and later went on to win the 2001 Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film and "Mike's New Car," which is a charming extension of "Monsters, Inc." that features the voices of both Goodman and Crystal. Many of the special features are divided into two separate sections -- the Human World and the Monster World. Both are chock full of supplemental materials too numerous to list here, but contain standards such as deleted scenes, commentary and art galleries, among many, many others.\n"Monsters, Inc." is a saccharine-sweet film that should speak to the inner child within. It's the best animated film of 2001 (yes, even more than the expertly crafted, "Shrek"), and as such, it's more than worth a look or even a purchase on DVD.
(09/26/02 4:00am)
Certain movies are so bad that you wouldn't even watch them with your worst enemy's eyes. Directors who churn-out crap like this deserve several swift kicks straight to the junk for having subjected millions of innocent viewers to their festering turd passed off as cinema. "Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever" is one such film, and its director, Thai tyro Wych Kaosayanada (dubbed Kaos, pronounced chaos. Cool, huh?), best buy a cup.\nAntonio Banderas stars as FBI agent Jeremiah Ecks, who, after the supposed loss of his wife, becomes somehow disavowed from the agency. Viewers are led through Ecks' psyche by way of his having constant three-day stubble, smoking cigarettes in slow-mo and hanging out in poorly lit bars. Man, this cat is pissed off. Lucy Liu's near-mute former NSA agent isn't much better. She somehow raised the scratch needed to buy a Batcave-esque hideout in the middle of a train yard, she makes frequent trips to the mall in between shooting and stabbing grunts and she's awfully pissed off about her hubby and baby being blown to bits in a grass hut. \nFirst, the two square off against one another, then they're confused as to who the other is, then they're cool. All the while, audience members are bored out of their skulls, and lots of extras are mowed down in hails of gunfire during the poorly executed action scenes that link the film together.\nThe only redeeming factors of "Ballistic" are Sever's massive arsenal, an overly-stylized sequence in which Sever clips a random SWAT team member with a rocket (spurring his fall from a building) and a double police-car flip evoking memories of "Smokey and the Bandit."\nEverything else about this movie bites the big one -- the most likable character is an ethnic stereotype and an action flick archetype to boot. Banderas and Liu have never been less captivating on screen. The terrible score ranges between third-rate techno and Celine Dion rip-offs, and the film boasts the worst death scene for a villain ever.\n"Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever" will die a deserved death in the discount bins of shoddy video stores -- a fate that's all-too-fair for a flick that seems it was made for the USA Network by a chimp back in 1987.
(09/26/02 4:00am)
"Monsters, Inc.," the latest film produced through the team-up of Disney and Pixar Animation Studios (the others being the "Toy Story" films and "A Bug's Life") was one of the most pleasant cinematic surprises of last year. I was initially turned off by the prospect of seeing some ham-fisted kid's flick, contrary to my deep like for the original "Toy Story." I was surprised that the film was not only both side-splittingly funny and very touching at times, but also just as geared towards adults as it was to children. Those of you who shared a similar viewpoint should seek out "Monsters, Inc." now that it's available in a beautifully produced two-DVD set.\nJohn Goodman and Billy Crystal voice the film's protagonists, the lovable galoot James P. Sullivan (Sulley) and his smart-alecky cyclops of a best pal, Mike Wazowski. Both work at Monsters, Inc., Sulley as the company's top "scarer" and Mike as his faithful assistant. All is going well for the two monsters. That is until their overly competitive co-worker Randall (voiced by the irreplaceable Steve Buscemi) unleashes a precious little girl (later dubbed Boo by Sulley) into Monstropolis, while cheating his way towards Sulley's scare record. \nThe computer animation and sound mix are beautifully captured in this stunning THX-certified transfer of the film. This two-disc set also has a bevy of extras that will impress even the most avid of DVD collectors. There are a few shorts included in the set: "For the Birds," which was screened with the film on release and later went on to win the 2001 Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film and "Mike's New Car," which is a charming extension of "Monsters, Inc." that features the voices of both Goodman and Crystal. Many of the special features are divided into two separate sections -- the Human World and the Monster World. Both are chock full of supplemental materials too numerous to list here, but contain standards such as deleted scenes, commentary and art galleries, among many, many others.\n"Monsters, Inc." is a saccharine-sweet film that should speak to the inner child within. It's the best animated film of 2001 (yes, even more than the expertly crafted, "Shrek"), and as such, it's more than worth a look or even a purchase on DVD.
(09/26/02 4:00am)
Fans of the cult phenom "Mr. Show," or of decent comedy as a whole, should unite, fight and gripe over New Line Cinema's decision to bar "Run Ronnie Run," the first "Mr. Show" movie, from its well-deserved theatrical release. New Line has no reason aside from simply not knowing how to properly market "Run Ronnie Run" for holding it, which is a shame. \nSure, New Line's done a whole lot for filmmakers and goers as of late. It was the only studio that had the brass and savvy needed to mount a risky trilogy such as "The Lord of the Rings," which thus far has been excellent. And New Line churned-out "Austin Powers in Goldmember," which, for all practical purposes, was miles ahead of its predecessor, "The Spy Who Shagged Me." \nBut this begs the question -- why banish the comedic genius of David Cross and Bob Odenkirk (the brains behind "Mr. Show" and "Run Ronnie Run")? They're currently in the midst of a predominantly sold-out tour of our nation's biggest markets with "Hooray for America," which hits two separate Chicago venues Friday night and should be well worth a look. Also, the DVD set of the first two seasons of their HBO series (which ran between 1995 and 1998) is selling like hotcakes. \nNew Line's doing well enough; the entire "Lord of the Rings" trilogy has been paid off with "The Fellowship of the Rings"' box office receipts alone. New Line's surely made, or is in the process of making, enough crap, i.e. "Jason X" (the worst horror movie/ horror movie parody ever made), the upcoming "Freddy vs. Jason" (featuring the goofy-looking member of Destiny's Child), a teeny-bopper remake of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and a sequel to "Final Destination" (what, one wasn't enough?).\nWhy not release a film you've already payed for? Sure, it won't make $100 million, but it will make die-hard "Mr. Show" fans happy and is sure to gross more than the paltry $12 million "earned" by "Jason X" during its domestic theatrical run. Plus, it's among the best comedies I've seen this year, and believe it or not, Hollywood, but quality counts for something, or at least it should.\n"Run Ronnie Run" expands on a series of skits seen in the first few episodes of "Mr. Show," in which a good ol' boy by the name of Ronwell "Ronnie" Q. Dobbs (Cross) spends his days being arrested for various acts of drunken tomfoolery. Soon, Ronnie's skill for being arrested is placed on the national stage after frequent appearances on the "Cops"-esque reality show, "Fuzz," and on his own subsequent television program, "Ronnie Dobbs gets Arrested," as produced by a British boob by the name of Terry Twillstein (Odenkirk). "Run Ronnie Run" is the film that "Joe Dirt" (which is still pretty funny) wanted to be. It's smarter, faster-paced and in all respects dirtier.\nSure, I saw the film via an illegal VHS bootleg, and the quality was nothing to write home about (the frame rate ran alongside the bottom of the screen, the digital effects shots were incomplete and the picture was somewhat fuzzy), but if you can enjoy a flick unabashedly under these poor conditions it must rock.\nThis is a film chock full of classic "Mr. Show" moments -- a female infomercial star takes a razor blade in the chest from a faulty food processor, and Jack Black and his chimneysweep entourage sing "Just Another Kick in the Cunt" in a warped parody of "Mary Poppins." The flick also boasts the funniest fight scene and use of bad dubbing in the history of cinema.\nQuite simply, this is a film that needs to be seen by "Mr. Show" fans and the uninitiated alike. Damn New Line for not releasing "Run Ronnie Run" sooner. Hopefully the studio will seek redemption by releasing the flick, whether it be direct-to-video, or, if there's any justice in this world, at a theater near you.
(09/26/02 12:45am)
Fans of the cult phenom "Mr. Show," or of decent comedy as a whole, should unite, fight and gripe over New Line Cinema's decision to bar "Run Ronnie Run," the first "Mr. Show" movie, from its well-deserved theatrical release. New Line has no reason aside from simply not knowing how to properly market "Run Ronnie Run" for holding it, which is a shame. \nSure, New Line's done a whole lot for filmmakers and goers as of late. It was the only studio that had the brass and savvy needed to mount a risky trilogy such as "The Lord of the Rings," which thus far has been excellent. And New Line churned-out "Austin Powers in Goldmember," which, for all practical purposes, was miles ahead of its predecessor, "The Spy Who Shagged Me." \nBut this begs the question -- why banish the comedic genius of David Cross and Bob Odenkirk (the brains behind "Mr. Show" and "Run Ronnie Run")? They're currently in the midst of a predominantly sold-out tour of our nation's biggest markets with "Hooray for America," which hits two separate Chicago venues Friday night and should be well worth a look. Also, the DVD set of the first two seasons of their HBO series (which ran between 1995 and 1998) is selling like hotcakes. \nNew Line's doing well enough; the entire "Lord of the Rings" trilogy has been paid off with "The Fellowship of the Rings"' box office receipts alone. New Line's surely made, or is in the process of making, enough crap, i.e. "Jason X" (the worst horror movie/ horror movie parody ever made), the upcoming "Freddy vs. Jason" (featuring the goofy-looking member of Destiny's Child), a teeny-bopper remake of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and a sequel to "Final Destination" (what, one wasn't enough?).\nWhy not release a film you've already payed for? Sure, it won't make $100 million, but it will make die-hard "Mr. Show" fans happy and is sure to gross more than the paltry $12 million "earned" by "Jason X" during its domestic theatrical run. Plus, it's among the best comedies I've seen this year, and believe it or not, Hollywood, but quality counts for something, or at least it should.\n"Run Ronnie Run" expands on a series of skits seen in the first few episodes of "Mr. Show," in which a good ol' boy by the name of Ronwell "Ronnie" Q. Dobbs (Cross) spends his days being arrested for various acts of drunken tomfoolery. Soon, Ronnie's skill for being arrested is placed on the national stage after frequent appearances on the "Cops"-esque reality show, "Fuzz," and on his own subsequent television program, "Ronnie Dobbs gets Arrested," as produced by a British boob by the name of Terry Twillstein (Odenkirk). "Run Ronnie Run" is the film that "Joe Dirt" (which is still pretty funny) wanted to be. It's smarter, faster-paced and in all respects dirtier.\nSure, I saw the film via an illegal VHS bootleg, and the quality was nothing to write home about (the frame rate ran alongside the bottom of the screen, the digital effects shots were incomplete and the picture was somewhat fuzzy), but if you can enjoy a flick unabashedly under these poor conditions it must rock.\nThis is a film chock full of classic "Mr. Show" moments -- a female infomercial star takes a razor blade in the chest from a faulty food processor, and Jack Black and his chimneysweep entourage sing "Just Another Kick in the Cunt" in a warped parody of "Mary Poppins." The flick also boasts the funniest fight scene and use of bad dubbing in the history of cinema.\nQuite simply, this is a film that needs to be seen by "Mr. Show" fans and the uninitiated alike. Damn New Line for not releasing "Run Ronnie Run" sooner. Hopefully the studio will seek redemption by releasing the flick, whether it be direct-to-video, or, if there's any justice in this world, at a theater near you.
