114 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(01/22/03 12:26am)
I can only imagine the film pitch that director Todd Haynes must have given for his most recent film, "Far From Heaven." Coming from the man who gave us "Velvet Goldmine," Haynes may have said something to the effect that he had an idea to explore repressed desires in 1950s America in the style of that era's sweeping, over-the-top melodramas. Even for the most experimental of independent filmmakers, this could have been laughable. But Haynes has stopped laughter mid-giggle, and left audiences, gender aside, reaching for buttery napkins to dab the tears rolling down their cheeks. Haynes' "Far From Heaven" is a textbook Technicolor fantasia of film theory and a gorgeous homage to the films of Douglas Sirk, specifically, "All that Heaven Allows."\nSirk's films explored issues of an unspeakable nature for his time, but these issues were often only hinted at. His films were typically labeled as "weepies" and "women's films," and were not taken seriously until rediscovered by academia in the 1970s. \nIn contrast, Hayne's has created a film that delves into the relationships of unthinkable proportions for 1950s American suburbia, specifically homosexual and interracial relationships. The film drips with a stylistic beauty that seems both fresh and familiar. To say the colors of this film are rich, is to say Bill Gates has some pocket-change. Everything in this film, from the costumes to the score to the wind whipping the autumn leaves, has become a stylized and chosen part of the décor, whether exterior or interior.\nEqually impressive as the films theoretical and technical achievements is the acting from Julianne Moore and Dennis Quaid. "Far From Heaven" has already received an accolade of awards, with Moore receiving the greater majority for her performance as a house-mom whose picture-perfect world is crumbling and all she can do is smile and reassure everyone that things are "just fine." Likewise, Dennis Quaid gives arguably the best performance of his career as a man who has it made in corporate suburbia, but is breaking up inside because of his homosexuality that he deems "despicable," but that he can't deny. "Far From Heaven" is a lot closer than its title suggests and is one of the most exciting and daring films this year.
(01/22/03 12:24am)
Antwone Fisher" is the true story of a young man's self-discovery and self-awareness through the help of a ranking Naval officer and a loving girlfriend. From that general description it doesn't sound like much more than "Good Will Hunting" with an African-American cast, but Denzel Washington (in his directorial debut) has taken this fairly standard tale of redemption and turned it into a culturally significant film as well as a good, old fashioned Hollywood story. \nNavy man Antwone Fisher (newcomer Derek Luke) is basically a good kid, but his quick temper and violent reactions keep him in and out of trouble with his superior officers. After a fight provoked by a white sailor, Fisher is sent to Dr. Jerome Davenport (Washington) for therapy. Like Will Hunting, Fisher is a smart, angry young man who would rather sit mutely in an office session after session than talk about his problems with the doctor. Fisher finally cracks, and as the film progresses, his conversations with Davenport both in and out of the office provide looks into sad and violent moments in Fisher's past. \nAs with most redemption movies that are based on true stories, the main character's eventual triumph is not surprised but assumed. The promise of a happy ending here is even more obvious when one considers that the real life Fisher wrote this screenplay. What raises this film above a ordinary storyline is two-fold. First, the flashbacks are not solely used for understanding or justifying Fisher's actions, but also highlight important cultural and societal trends within the black community, as well as in America at large. The film evokes the way Fisher's life reflects on the world around him, a depth not found in "Good Will Hunting." Second, the film is filled with many emotionally challenging scenes, such as the one when Fisher confronts his mother who gave birth to him in prison and never claimed him when she was released. \n"Antwone Fisher" is an honest account of events that are not always easy to watch or discuss and is carried by strong performances all the way around as well as steady direction from Washington. The film's emotional climax in the second to last scene is as uplifting and wonderful as any final scene in any movie, including "It's A Wonderful Life" and "Field of Dreams," and proves to be entertaining and educational all at once.
(01/16/03 5:00am)
Antwone Fisher" is the true story of a young man's self-discovery and self-awareness through the help of a ranking Naval officer and a loving girlfriend. From that general description it doesn't sound like much more than "Good Will Hunting" with an African-American cast, but Denzel Washington (in his directorial debut) has taken this fairly standard tale of redemption and turned it into a culturally significant film as well as a good, old fashioned Hollywood story. \nNavy man Antwone Fisher (newcomer Derek Luke) is basically a good kid, but his quick temper and violent reactions keep him in and out of trouble with his superior officers. After a fight provoked by a white sailor, Fisher is sent to Dr. Jerome Davenport (Washington) for therapy. Like Will Hunting, Fisher is a smart, angry young man who would rather sit mutely in an office session after session than talk about his problems with the doctor. Fisher finally cracks, and as the film progresses, his conversations with Davenport both in and out of the office provide looks into sad and violent moments in Fisher's past. \nAs with most redemption movies that are based on true stories, the main character's eventual triumph is not surprised but assumed. The promise of a happy ending here is even more obvious when one considers that the real life Fisher wrote this screenplay. What raises this film above a ordinary storyline is two-fold. First, the flashbacks are not solely used for understanding or justifying Fisher's actions, but also highlight important cultural and societal trends within the black community, as well as in America at large. The film evokes the way Fisher's life reflects on the world around him, a depth not found in "Good Will Hunting." Second, the film is filled with many emotionally challenging scenes, such as the one when Fisher confronts his mother who gave birth to him in prison and never claimed him when she was released. \n"Antwone Fisher" is an honest account of events that are not always easy to watch or discuss and is carried by strong performances all the way around as well as steady direction from Washington. The film's emotional climax in the second to last scene is as uplifting and wonderful as any final scene in any movie, including "It's A Wonderful Life" and "Field of Dreams," and proves to be entertaining and educational all at once.
(01/16/03 5:00am)
I can only imagine the film pitch that director Todd Haynes must have given for his most recent film, "Far From Heaven." Coming from the man who gave us "Velvet Goldmine," Haynes may have said something to the effect that he had an idea to explore repressed desires in 1950s America in the style of that era's sweeping, over-the-top melodramas. Even for the most experimental of independent filmmakers, this could have been laughable. But Haynes has stopped laughter mid-giggle, and left audiences, gender aside, reaching for buttery napkins to dab the tears rolling down their cheeks. Haynes' "Far From Heaven" is a textbook Technicolor fantasia of film theory and a gorgeous homage to the films of Douglas Sirk, specifically, "All that Heaven Allows."\nSirk's films explored issues of an unspeakable nature for his time, but these issues were often only hinted at. His films were typically labeled as "weepies" and "women's films," and were not taken seriously until rediscovered by academia in the 1970s. \nIn contrast, Hayne's has created a film that delves into the relationships of unthinkable proportions for 1950s American suburbia, specifically homosexual and interracial relationships. The film drips with a stylistic beauty that seems both fresh and familiar. To say the colors of this film are rich, is to say Bill Gates has some pocket-change. Everything in this film, from the costumes to the score to the wind whipping the autumn leaves, has become a stylized and chosen part of the décor, whether exterior or interior.\nEqually impressive as the films theoretical and technical achievements is the acting from Julianne Moore and Dennis Quaid. "Far From Heaven" has already received an accolade of awards, with Moore receiving the greater majority for her performance as a house-mom whose picture-perfect world is crumbling and all she can do is smile and reassure everyone that things are "just fine." Likewise, Dennis Quaid gives arguably the best performance of his career as a man who has it made in corporate suburbia, but is breaking up inside because of his homosexuality that he deems "despicable," but that he can't deny. "Far From Heaven" is a lot closer than its title suggests and is one of the most exciting and daring films this year.
(12/12/02 5:12am)
Arenas Entertainment is the new Universal production company that is aimed primarily at a Latino audience. I don't have a Latin bone in my white-boy body, but even I feel a little offended when the first film from Arenas is such a ham-handed morality tale that smacks of cliché and stereotypes that squander serious potential for an excellent film. "Empire," the new film from Arenas, is little less than a crumbling kingdom that is defeated by its own vices and devices.\nJohn Leguizamo plays self-ascribed "street pharmacist" Vic Rosa, a Latino drug dealer working in the South Bronx. Vic is a self-made man, one who sees himself as the street-wise Rockefeller or Bill Gates. When introduced to young Wall-Street guru Jack (Peter Sarsgaard), Vic decides it's time to go legit, laundering his money through the Market in hopes of coming out clean and starting over. If you've ever once, in your entire life, seen a movie where a man tries to simply run away from his past and start all over, you should know exactly where this film is going.\nFranc. (notice the trendy twist with the period!) Reyes both wrote and directed 'Empire.' My advice to Franc. should he have to pick between the two: go for directing. Visually and stylistically, 'Empire' is rich in color and fluid camera shots. Granted, a lot of the time the film feels like the love-child of Santana and Snoop-Dogg, but it fits the world in which it comes from. What should have fit that world, but instead becomes biting self-parody, is the ridiculously brassy Latino score from Reuben Blades. Blades's soundtrack manages to turn the tired stereotype of Latin passion into nothing short of sheer laughable melodrama, more than once sinking 'Empire' like a soggy soap-opera.\nVic Rosa, though passionately portrayed by Leguizamo, becomes an utterly unrelatable character by the end of the film. After this self-centered money-grubber leaves his pregnant girlfriend on a corner in the Bronx, disowns his past and heritage, and manages to have his childhood best friend knocked off, are we really supposed to feel a grain of empathy when he gets what he deserves? And yet, herein lies the rub: when Rosa gets what's coming, 'Empire' turns into just another formula-ridden Hollywood morality fable with a shoddily shot (mind you stolen! 'American Beauty' anyone?), cop-out ending. Don't waste your time or money in support of this fallen 'Empire.'
(12/12/02 5:00am)
Arenas Entertainment is the new Universal production company that is aimed primarily at a Latino audience. I don't have a Latin bone in my white-boy body, but even I feel a little offended when the first film from Arenas is such a ham-handed morality tale that smacks of cliché and stereotypes that squander serious potential for an excellent film. "Empire," the new film from Arenas, is little less than a crumbling kingdom that is defeated by its own vices and devices.\nJohn Leguizamo plays self-ascribed "street pharmacist" Vic Rosa, a Latino drug dealer working in the South Bronx. Vic is a self-made man, one who sees himself as the street-wise Rockefeller or Bill Gates. When introduced to young Wall-Street guru Jack (Peter Sarsgaard), Vic decides it's time to go legit, laundering his money through the Market in hopes of coming out clean and starting over. If you've ever once, in your entire life, seen a movie where a man tries to simply run away from his past and start all over, you should know exactly where this film is going.\nFranc. (notice the trendy twist with the period!) Reyes both wrote and directed 'Empire.' My advice to Franc. should he have to pick between the two: go for directing. Visually and stylistically, 'Empire' is rich in color and fluid camera shots. Granted, a lot of the time the film feels like the love-child of Santana and Snoop-Dogg, but it fits the world in which it comes from. What should have fit that world, but instead becomes biting self-parody, is the ridiculously brassy Latino score from Reuben Blades. Blades's soundtrack manages to turn the tired stereotype of Latin passion into nothing short of sheer laughable melodrama, more than once sinking 'Empire' like a soggy soap-opera.\nVic Rosa, though passionately portrayed by Leguizamo, becomes an utterly unrelatable character by the end of the film. After this self-centered money-grubber leaves his pregnant girlfriend on a corner in the Bronx, disowns his past and heritage, and manages to have his childhood best friend knocked off, are we really supposed to feel a grain of empathy when he gets what he deserves? And yet, herein lies the rub: when Rosa gets what's coming, 'Empire' turns into just another formula-ridden Hollywood morality fable with a shoddily shot (mind you stolen! 'American Beauty' anyone?), cop-out ending. Don't waste your time or money in support of this fallen 'Empire.'
(12/05/02 5:00am)
In his 40th year, James Bond has become the most successful franchise in film history, providing his audience with the staples of espionage: fast cars, faster women and stuff blowing up. Lee Tamahori's new installment into that long tradition, "Die Another Day," lives up to its predecessors.\nStarting with one of the best Bond action sequences to be shot on celluloid, our "double O" agent is chased across a landmine-peppered field in North Korea on hovercraft. Throughout the film, Bond becomes the globetrotting, PP-7-packing, explosion-inducing agent we have all come to know, but this is not what makes "Die Another Day" one of the best Bond films in recent decades.\nTamahori has directed a film that moves from the high-gloss, untouchable image of Bond we are familiar with and has replaced it with a gritty, more vulnerable Bond. As Madonna's electrical chirping trips rhythm over the opening titles, Bond doesn't make his usual grandiose escape. Instead, we are shown images of Bond being tortured by his North Korean captives over the span of a year. \nWhen our film begins, Bond is a man who has been completely stripped physically and emotionally, barely recognizable with a bushy beard and long hair. Even upon his release, M, fearing Bond might have been leaking information, says, "The world has changed...You're of no use to us anymore." And like that, Bond is no longer 007, but "double O" loser.\nOf course, none of these unconventional shenanigans actually last. This is, after all, James Bond, and you just can't keep a good spy down. But the first act of the film, in which we are suddenly shown a side of Bond that brings him closer to human than superhuman, is arguably its strongest. Brosnan does his best job yet in the role of our good man James, actually portraying the vulnerability of Bond just as believably as the sheer suaveness.\nLikewise, Halle Berry gives an interesting performance as American NSA agent Jinx, who also plays with some of the more stereotypical, conventional roles in which woman have usually found themselves next to Bond.\nWith the second act and by the stunt-riddled climax, "Die Another Day" becomes more and more the conventional Bond film we are used to. And while slightly formulaic, there's no denying the simple escapist entertainment of completely suspending disbelief. For your money, this Bond will leave you shaken, stirred and waiting for the next one.
(12/05/02 5:00am)
In Steven Soderbergh's recent rendezvous with the experimental, George Clooney plays a psychologist sent to investigate an unraveling space crew in "Solaris." Russian master Andrei Tarkovsky first adapted the sci-fi classic into an epic, nearly-three-hour film in 1972 that was seen as a rival to Kubrick's "2001." After Soderbergh's last unwelcome exposure in the avant with "Full Frontal," many saw this next spaced-out foray as almost laughable. They aren't laughing anymore.\nTightly directed and tautly trim at half of Tarkovsky's time, Soderbergh's "Solaris" is catching critics by surprise and leaving its audiences unexpectedly discussing metaphysics by the time the credits roll. When Chris Kelvin (Clooney) comes aboard the Prometheus, the sentient, oceanic planet Solaris is creating hallucinations of the past memories and repressed fantasies of the crew.\nAfter the first night, Kelvin wakes to his long-dead wife lying beside him, a paradoxical flesh-and-blood impossibility. Where the story of "Solaris" takes its brilliant twist is when these hallucinations start to become self-aware of their own existence as nothing more than the tangible realizations of their creator's memories.\nCovering themes from the existential thought to the consequences of love lost and redemption, while "Solaris" is complex, Soderbergh has created a vision that is graspable, but hauntingly so. Gorgeously shot under the pseudonym Peter Andrews, Soderbergh tells his story in simple shots, primarily using close-ups that hover somewhere between the claustrophobic and the intimate.\nAnd while no one's announcing this the new inheritor of Kubrick's master-space vision, Soderbergh does capture some moments that even HAL could be proud of. Backed by a beautiful and ethereally melancholy score by Cliff Martinez, don't be surprised if you find your jaw creeping agape more than once.\nJust as doubtful of Soderbergh's handling of this material was the casting of Clooney in such an emotionally engaging role. As before, those doubting will find themselves full-fledged believers, as Clooney delivers one of his best performances, full of ache, angst and believability. Jeremy Davies is the only possible flaw, his performance falling somewhere between Dennis Hopper in "Apocalypse Now" and terminally stoned. Davies's performance is definitely one of paranoid eccentricities, its merit left to the judgement of the individual's perspective.\nNonetheless, "Solaris" is a moving and thought-provoking film best seen in the company of friends, because discussion becomes inevitable.
(12/04/02 5:17am)
In Steven Soderbergh's recent rendezvous with the experimental, George Clooney plays a psychologist sent to investigate an unraveling space crew in "Solaris." Russian master Andrei Tarkovsky first adapted the sci-fi classic into an epic, nearly-three-hour film in 1972 that was seen as a rival to Kubrick's "2001." After Soderbergh's last unwelcome exposure in the avant with "Full Frontal," many saw this next spaced-out foray as almost laughable. They aren't laughing anymore.\nTightly directed and tautly trim at half of Tarkovsky's time, Soderbergh's "Solaris" is catching critics by surprise and leaving its audiences unexpectedly discussing metaphysics by the time the credits roll. When Chris Kelvin (Clooney) comes aboard the Prometheus, the sentient, oceanic planet Solaris is creating hallucinations of the past memories and repressed fantasies of the crew.\nAfter the first night, Kelvin wakes to his long-dead wife lying beside him, a paradoxical flesh-and-blood impossibility. Where the story of "Solaris" takes its brilliant twist is when these hallucinations start to become self-aware of their own existence as nothing more than the tangible realizations of their creator's memories.\nCovering themes from the existential thought to the consequences of love lost and redemption, while "Solaris" is complex, Soderbergh has created a vision that is graspable, but hauntingly so. Gorgeously shot under the pseudonym Peter Andrews, Soderbergh tells his story in simple shots, primarily using close-ups that hover somewhere between the claustrophobic and the intimate.\nAnd while no one's announcing this the new inheritor of Kubrick's master-space vision, Soderbergh does capture some moments that even HAL could be proud of. Backed by a beautiful and ethereally melancholy score by Cliff Martinez, don't be surprised if you find your jaw creeping agape more than once.\nJust as doubtful of Soderbergh's handling of this material was the casting of Clooney in such an emotionally engaging role. As before, those doubting will find themselves full-fledged believers, as Clooney delivers one of his best performances, full of ache, angst and believability. Jeremy Davies is the only possible flaw, his performance falling somewhere between Dennis Hopper in "Apocalypse Now" and terminally stoned. Davies's performance is definitely one of paranoid eccentricities, its merit left to the judgement of the individual's perspective.\nNonetheless, "Solaris" is a moving and thought-provoking film best seen in the company of friends, because discussion becomes inevitable.
(12/04/02 4:53am)
In his 40th year, James Bond has become the most successful franchise in film history, providing his audience with the staples of espionage: fast cars, faster women and stuff blowing up. Lee Tamahori's new installment into that long tradition, "Die Another Day," lives up to its predecessors.\nStarting with one of the best Bond action sequences to be shot on celluloid, our "double O" agent is chased across a landmine-peppered field in North Korea on hovercraft. Throughout the film, Bond becomes the globetrotting, PP-7-packing, explosion-inducing agent we have all come to know, but this is not what makes "Die Another Day" one of the best Bond films in recent decades.\nTamahori has directed a film that moves from the high-gloss, untouchable image of Bond we are familiar with and has replaced it with a gritty, more vulnerable Bond. As Madonna's electrical chirping trips rhythm over the opening titles, Bond doesn't make his usual grandiose escape. Instead, we are shown images of Bond being tortured by his North Korean captives over the span of a year. \nWhen our film begins, Bond is a man who has been completely stripped physically and emotionally, barely recognizable with a bushy beard and long hair. Even upon his release, M, fearing Bond might have been leaking information, says, "The world has changed...You're of no use to us anymore." And like that, Bond is no longer 007, but "double O" loser.\nOf course, none of these unconventional shenanigans actually last. This is, after all, James Bond, and you just can't keep a good spy down. But the first act of the film, in which we are suddenly shown a side of Bond that brings him closer to human than superhuman, is arguably its strongest. Brosnan does his best job yet in the role of our good man James, actually portraying the vulnerability of Bond just as believably as the sheer suaveness.\nLikewise, Halle Berry gives an interesting performance as American NSA agent Jinx, who also plays with some of the more stereotypical, conventional roles in which woman have usually found themselves next to Bond.\nWith the second act and by the stunt-riddled climax, "Die Another Day" becomes more and more the conventional Bond film we are used to. And while slightly formulaic, there's no denying the simple escapist entertainment of completely suspending disbelief. For your money, this Bond will leave you shaken, stirred and waiting for the next one.
(11/21/02 6:50am)
The temptation to make a saucy reference to this film's title and the sex scandal that's split the Catholic church wide open is sinfully seductive. While I'll refrain from this devilish delicacy of word play, it is exactly that -- the film's unfortunate title -- that kept the majority of us from seeing this fine film of adolescent angst.\nBased on Chris Fuhrman's posthumously published, semi-autobiographical cult novel of the same name, "Altar Boys" is the story of Tim Sullivan (Kieran Culkin) and Francis Doyle (Emile Hirsch). Best friends and better pranksters, these two Catholic schoolboys are entering adolescence and learning that the world can be a confusing and unfair place and that the paths they will take will not be the same. With stellar performances from a very young cast, Peter Care's excellent directorial debut moves deftly between relatable comedy and squirming darkness, achieving the overall effect of raw honesty.\nMet with wide critical acclaim, this isn't to say that "Altar Boys" is spotlessly clean. Jodie Foster, as an uptight, bitter nun with one leg, at times feels slightly miscast, and her Irish-Catholic accent at the beginning of the film has miraculously vanished by the end. Likewise, by working with young actors, some lines are delivered that shamelessly expose the script.\nYet, the originality and uniqueness of the movie are far more redeeming than any of these trivial hang-ups. The most interesting features of the film are animated sequences, produced by Todd McFarlane of "Spawn" infamy, that cut in and out of the live action. Our "Altar Boys" are in love with the world of comics and find the medium to be a way to express all the things that are going on inside them.\nAlthough the DVD comes with special features like interviews, featurettes, various commentaries, deleted scenes and more, this is a little deceiving. The majority of the material, such as the interviews, featurettes and deleted scenes, are the exact same material, just packaged differently.\nBut there are also positive features, such as the Sundance Film Festival Channel's "Anatomy of a Scene" and the commentary from director Care and writer Jeff Stockwell. Overall, aside from the serious film buff, this DVD is worth the time to watch and worth the money to rent, but is just a little too "dangerous" to own.
(11/21/02 5:31am)
Steven Shainberg's new film is the kind that would get people talking if more people got out to see it. Winner of the Special Jury Prize for Originality at this year's Sundance Film Festival, "Secretary" is a rare film, indeed, a romantic dramedy that dares to challenge our assumed positions on the true nature of happiness, love and fulfillment.\n"Secretary" is the story of Lee Holloway, played with bright-eyed magnificence by Maggie Gyllenhaal. A recovering self-mutilator, Lee looks for something else to occupy her time, and she finds it working as the secretary for paralegal E. Edward Grey (James Spader). From the moment these two come together, there is no mistaking the chemistry between them and that their relationship as employer and employee is little less than role-playing.\nThis is where things really get interesting and, for some, uneasy with "Secretary." Edward and Lee as paralegal and secretary quickly become Edward and Lee as dominant and submissive, and Miss Holloway begins to habitually irk her Mr. E in order to receive thorough spankings for her mistakes.\nThis is where Shainberg and his talented crew truly shine. When dealing with such socially taboo subjects as sadomasochism, the celluloid world tends to lean either toward the darkly disturbing (à la "Blue Velvet") or the absurdly comedic (via "Exit to Eden").\nNot so with "Secretary." Instead, we are given two characters who are tremendously needy and find fulfillment in one another, regardless of how strange their relationship may look to the rest of the world.\nThe tone of "Secretary" is the absolutely crucial key-pin in holding the film together, and Shainberg, along with the excellent Spader and Gyllenhaal, knows exactly when to draw both our compassion and our laughter.\nThis is one of the most honest and heartfelt films to deal with S & M in recent years; its only setback is its reliance on the stereotype that emotionally challenged individuals are the major representatives of this lifestyle. Overall, though, this film is worth your time and money and does what more films should try to do: open your mind to a new world.
(11/21/02 5:00am)
Steven Shainberg's new film is the kind that would get people talking if more people got out to see it. Winner of the Special Jury Prize for Originality at this year's Sundance Film Festival, "Secretary" is a rare film, indeed, a romantic dramedy that dares to challenge our assumed positions on the true nature of happiness, love and fulfillment.\n"Secretary" is the story of Lee Holloway, played with bright-eyed magnificence by Maggie Gyllenhaal. A recovering self-mutilator, Lee looks for something else to occupy her time, and she finds it working as the secretary for paralegal E. Edward Grey (James Spader). From the moment these two come together, there is no mistaking the chemistry between them and that their relationship as employer and employee is little less than role-playing.\nThis is where things really get interesting and, for some, uneasy with "Secretary." Edward and Lee as paralegal and secretary quickly become Edward and Lee as dominant and submissive, and Miss Holloway begins to habitually irk her Mr. E in order to receive thorough spankings for her mistakes.\nThis is where Shainberg and his talented crew truly shine. When dealing with such socially taboo subjects as sadomasochism, the celluloid world tends to lean either toward the darkly disturbing (à la "Blue Velvet") or the absurdly comedic (via "Exit to Eden").\nNot so with "Secretary." Instead, we are given two characters who are tremendously needy and find fulfillment in one another, regardless of how strange their relationship may look to the rest of the world.\nThe tone of "Secretary" is the absolutely crucial key-pin in holding the film together, and Shainberg, along with the excellent Spader and Gyllenhaal, knows exactly when to draw both our compassion and our laughter.\nThis is one of the most honest and heartfelt films to deal with S & M in recent years; its only setback is its reliance on the stereotype that emotionally challenged individuals are the major representatives of this lifestyle. Overall, though, this film is worth your time and money and does what more films should try to do: open your mind to a new world.
(11/21/02 5:00am)
The temptation to make a saucy reference to this film's title and the sex scandal that's split the Catholic church wide open is sinfully seductive. While I'll refrain from this devilish delicacy of word play, it is exactly that -- the film's unfortunate title -- that kept the majority of us from seeing this fine film of adolescent angst.\nBased on Chris Fuhrman's posthumously published, semi-autobiographical cult novel of the same name, "Altar Boys" is the story of Tim Sullivan (Kieran Culkin) and Francis Doyle (Emile Hirsch). Best friends and better pranksters, these two Catholic schoolboys are entering adolescence and learning that the world can be a confusing and unfair place and that the paths they will take will not be the same. With stellar performances from a very young cast, Peter Care's excellent directorial debut moves deftly between relatable comedy and squirming darkness, achieving the overall effect of raw honesty.\nMet with wide critical acclaim, this isn't to say that "Altar Boys" is spotlessly clean. Jodie Foster, as an uptight, bitter nun with one leg, at times feels slightly miscast, and her Irish-Catholic accent at the beginning of the film has miraculously vanished by the end. Likewise, by working with young actors, some lines are delivered that shamelessly expose the script.\nYet, the originality and uniqueness of the movie are far more redeeming than any of these trivial hang-ups. The most interesting features of the film are animated sequences, produced by Todd McFarlane of "Spawn" infamy, that cut in and out of the live action. Our "Altar Boys" are in love with the world of comics and find the medium to be a way to express all the things that are going on inside them.\nAlthough the DVD comes with special features like interviews, featurettes, various commentaries, deleted scenes and more, this is a little deceiving. The majority of the material, such as the interviews, featurettes and deleted scenes, are the exact same material, just packaged differently.\nBut there are also positive features, such as the Sundance Film Festival Channel's "Anatomy of a Scene" and the commentary from director Care and writer Jeff Stockwell. Overall, aside from the serious film buff, this DVD is worth the time to watch and worth the money to rent, but is just a little too "dangerous" to own.
(11/07/02 5:43am)
There is Bob Crane (Greg Kinnear), the family man, happily married to his high-school sweetheart for 15 years. He has three kids, attends church regularly and is the star of an unexpected TV hit in 1965, "Hogan's Heroes." Bob always smiles, lives by the motto, "Likeability is 90 percent of the battle," and says things like, "Well, gee-willikers," with so much sappy sincerity it could kill a Teletubby.\nThen there is Bob Crane, the fool of fame, whose life destroyed two marriages. Introduced to the new world of video by friend John Carpenter (Willem Dafoe), Crane becomes a self-destructive sexual juggernaut whose excesses know no limit. Obsessively documenting every orgy, Crane lives his life by the motto, "A day without sex is a day wasted," until his skull is obliterated by his own tripod while he sleeps.\nThis is the story behind "Auto Focus," Paul Schrader's latest divulgence into the inherent moral deviance of man. Schrader, who penned the masterful "Taxi Driver" and directed the overlooked "Affliction," is consumed by his subjects, men who can't escape their own pitiful entrapments. He even feels a certain sympathy for them but only delivers an unflinching portrait that is hollowed of any sentimentality. With "Auto Focus," watch as Schrader moves us from the brightly-colored kitschy world of Crane's beginnings, into the voyeuristic bleached-out oblivion that becomes his end.\nKinnear turns in his best performance to date, running the full gambit from happy-go-lucky family man to delusional, washed-up sex addict. Don't confuse Crane's unsettling simplicity with the depth of Kinnear's performance, which is excellently understated. Likewise, Dafoe is nothing short of disturbing, playing Sony salesman Carpenter (not the horror director!), a seedy man who harvests Crane's shady side and is the implied killer in Crane's still-unsolved murder.\nAccompanied by Lynch staple Angelo Badalamenti's sparse and haunting score, Schrader, our modern-day master moralist, once again gives us a parable of disquieting proportions. "Auto Focus" is a fine film -- one I would definitely recommend -- that deals with exploitation without being exploitative. But don't be surprised if, when you leave the theater, you feel fully violated and a little empty inside.
(11/07/02 5:00am)
There is Bob Crane (Greg Kinnear), the family man, happily married to his high-school sweetheart for 15 years. He has three kids, attends church regularly and is the star of an unexpected TV hit in 1965, "Hogan's Heroes." Bob always smiles, lives by the motto, "Likeability is 90 percent of the battle," and says things like, "Well, gee-willikers," with so much sappy sincerity it could kill a Teletubby.\nThen there is Bob Crane, the fool of fame, whose life destroyed two marriages. Introduced to the new world of video by friend John Carpenter (Willem Dafoe), Crane becomes a self-destructive sexual juggernaut whose excesses know no limit. Obsessively documenting every orgy, Crane lives his life by the motto, "A day without sex is a day wasted," until his skull is obliterated by his own tripod while he sleeps.\nThis is the story behind "Auto Focus," Paul Schrader's latest divulgence into the inherent moral deviance of man. Schrader, who penned the masterful "Taxi Driver" and directed the overlooked "Affliction," is consumed by his subjects, men who can't escape their own pitiful entrapments. He even feels a certain sympathy for them but only delivers an unflinching portrait that is hollowed of any sentimentality. With "Auto Focus," watch as Schrader moves us from the brightly-colored kitschy world of Crane's beginnings, into the voyeuristic bleached-out oblivion that becomes his end.\nKinnear turns in his best performance to date, running the full gambit from happy-go-lucky family man to delusional, washed-up sex addict. Don't confuse Crane's unsettling simplicity with the depth of Kinnear's performance, which is excellently understated. Likewise, Dafoe is nothing short of disturbing, playing Sony salesman Carpenter (not the horror director!), a seedy man who harvests Crane's shady side and is the implied killer in Crane's still-unsolved murder.\nAccompanied by Lynch staple Angelo Badalamenti's sparse and haunting score, Schrader, our modern-day master moralist, once again gives us a parable of disquieting proportions. "Auto Focus" is a fine film -- one I would definitely recommend -- that deals with exploitation without being exploitative. But don't be surprised if, when you leave the theater, you feel fully violated and a little empty inside.
(10/24/02 4:44am)
Clowns are not happy people. They offer you their candy-coated smile and a taffy chew and damn your soul before you can say, "Bozo." And everyone knows what Bozo - or should I say B.O.Z.O.? - really stands for: Beelzebub's Overly-Zealous Offspring. The simple fact that clowns are in allegiance with the Dark Lord came as no surprise: thus, when, in 1990, ABC aired the mini-series adaptation of Stephen King's killer-clown epic "It."\nDirected by Tommy Lee Wallace, "It" follows the lives of seven children who faced down a shape-shifting evil who most often took the form of a clown. However, because the kids defeated but didn't destroy It, It has come back after their children have grown up, and this time, the clown ain't happy.\nLawrence D. Cohen adapted King's novel and has worked with King's material before, adapting "Carrie" for Brian De Palma and "The Tommyknockers" for television. With "It," both Cohen and Wallace do an arguably decent job of transposing King's characters and scares to the screen. However, they also leave much to be desired. At times, the pacing and dialogue, especially toward the second half, drags like a dead boy through the sewers (those of you who have seen the movie will understand this statement).\nThe cast of "It" is like an 1980s sitcom reunion, which alone is enough to scare most reasonably sane people. Lined up from John Ritter to Harry Anderson, "It" also features a very young Seth Green and Jonathan Brandis. And it is ultimately the kids who give the better performances of the movie.\nHands down, though, the best performance of the film goes to Tim Curry as Pennywise the Dancing Clown. That man has tainted the mind and soiled the seat of many a viewer, young and old alike, with his horrifyingly wonderful portrayal of King's cranked-out cotton candy pusher.\nRecently released on DVD, "Stephen King's It" can be a fun and frightening movie worth the few dollars you might shell out at Blockbuster, but no more than this. Boasting little more than an audio commentary by the director and a few of the stars, the special features section is about as special as the short bus.\nKing's "It" is often cited as one of his masterpieces, next to "The Stand," and you have to wonder why they didn't give this story the same treatment. Whatever the case, "It" turns out to be the courtesan of bloodcurdling clown entertainment: worth the price to rent, but not the money to keep.
(10/24/02 4:00am)
Generally defined, a documentary film is one that approaches its subject with objectivity. When the very first title card to a documentary is, "There are three sides to every story: my side, your side and the truth...," that objectivism is being challenged. With this being the opening title to "The Kid Stays in the Picture," it quickly becomes apparent just where that objectivism lies: right out the window.\n"The Kid Stays in the Picture" is the unapologetically self-slanted story of "my side," which is Robert Evans' side. Evans glitzes his pitch with such schmaltzy self-glorification that it almost feels pornographic, and voyeurism has rarely been in such good fun.\nIt was while swimming at a Beverly Hills Hotel pool that Evans was discovered by actress Norma Shearer. After dabbling in the world of acting for awhile, he eventually found his home as the new young-gun producer of then-flailing Paramount studios. Obviously involved -- and if told by Evans, absolutely and integrally essential -- it was during his leadership that Paramount produced some of the best films ever made: "Rosemary's Baby," "The Godfather" and "Chinatown," just to name a few. Living his life with women, wealth and whatever suited his super-swinging style, Evans was the talk of the town and an American icon.\nOf course, every Icarus who gets to see the sun knows he's going to crash and burn, and this came to Evans in the form of a cocaine sting, the loss of the studio, a foggy link to the murder of a mysterious funder and his slick-backed, iconoclast image being ironically deconstructed by the people who had built him up. Evans was able to turn his life back around in the '80's and regain his status as a producer at Paramount.\nEvans provides the narration to this nostalgia-bleeding collage. With his gravelly voice and smooth jazz banter, he occasionally becomes campishly noir, delivering lines like, "Any man who thinks he can read the mind of a woman is a man who doesn't know anything at all."\nYou always get the vibe that Evans is trying to sell you something, and this works for the lounge-singer suavity of the first half. But when it comes to the second half, this pitiful peddling of justification and glossed-over details begins to go the way of the gimmick. Overall, this is a purely entertaining (if not completely factual) but completely fun film. Yet, I think less for your viewing pleasure and more for the safety of your wallet, wait for this one to hit a video store near you.
(10/24/02 4:00am)
Clowns are not happy people. They offer you their candy-coated smile and a taffy chew and damn your soul before you can say, "Bozo." And everyone knows what Bozo - or should I say B.O.Z.O.? - really stands for: Beelzebub's Overly-Zealous Offspring. The simple fact that clowns are in allegiance with the Dark Lord came as no surprise: thus, when, in 1990, ABC aired the mini-series adaptation of Stephen King's killer-clown epic "It."\nDirected by Tommy Lee Wallace, "It" follows the lives of seven children who faced down a shape-shifting evil who most often took the form of a clown. However, because the kids defeated but didn't destroy It, It has come back after their children have grown up, and this time, the clown ain't happy.\nLawrence D. Cohen adapted King's novel and has worked with King's material before, adapting "Carrie" for Brian De Palma and "The Tommyknockers" for television. With "It," both Cohen and Wallace do an arguably decent job of transposing King's characters and scares to the screen. However, they also leave much to be desired. At times, the pacing and dialogue, especially toward the second half, drags like a dead boy through the sewers (those of you who have seen the movie will understand this statement).\nThe cast of "It" is like an 1980s sitcom reunion, which alone is enough to scare most reasonably sane people. Lined up from John Ritter to Harry Anderson, "It" also features a very young Seth Green and Jonathan Brandis. And it is ultimately the kids who give the better performances of the movie.\nHands down, though, the best performance of the film goes to Tim Curry as Pennywise the Dancing Clown. That man has tainted the mind and soiled the seat of many a viewer, young and old alike, with his horrifyingly wonderful portrayal of King's cranked-out cotton candy pusher.\nRecently released on DVD, "Stephen King's It" can be a fun and frightening movie worth the few dollars you might shell out at Blockbuster, but no more than this. Boasting little more than an audio commentary by the director and a few of the stars, the special features section is about as special as the short bus.\nKing's "It" is often cited as one of his masterpieces, next to "The Stand," and you have to wonder why they didn't give this story the same treatment. Whatever the case, "It" turns out to be the courtesan of bloodcurdling clown entertainment: worth the price to rent, but not the money to keep.
(10/23/02 5:17am)
Generally defined, a documentary film is one that approaches its subject with objectivity. When the very first title card to a documentary is, "There are three sides to every story: my side, your side and the truth...," that objectivism is being challenged. With this being the opening title to "The Kid Stays in the Picture," it quickly becomes apparent just where that objectivism lies: right out the window.\n"The Kid Stays in the Picture" is the unapologetically self-slanted story of "my side," which is Robert Evans' side. Evans glitzes his pitch with such schmaltzy self-glorification that it almost feels pornographic, and voyeurism has rarely been in such good fun.\nIt was while swimming at a Beverly Hills Hotel pool that Evans was discovered by actress Norma Shearer. After dabbling in the world of acting for awhile, he eventually found his home as the new young-gun producer of then-flailing Paramount studios. Obviously involved -- and if told by Evans, absolutely and integrally essential -- it was during his leadership that Paramount produced some of the best films ever made: "Rosemary's Baby," "The Godfather" and "Chinatown," just to name a few. Living his life with women, wealth and whatever suited his super-swinging style, Evans was the talk of the town and an American icon.\nOf course, every Icarus who gets to see the sun knows he's going to crash and burn, and this came to Evans in the form of a cocaine sting, the loss of the studio, a foggy link to the murder of a mysterious funder and his slick-backed, iconoclast image being ironically deconstructed by the people who had built him up. Evans was able to turn his life back around in the '80's and regain his status as a producer at Paramount.\nEvans provides the narration to this nostalgia-bleeding collage. With his gravelly voice and smooth jazz banter, he occasionally becomes campishly noir, delivering lines like, "Any man who thinks he can read the mind of a woman is a man who doesn't know anything at all."\nYou always get the vibe that Evans is trying to sell you something, and this works for the lounge-singer suavity of the first half. But when it comes to the second half, this pitiful peddling of justification and glossed-over details begins to go the way of the gimmick. Overall, this is a purely entertaining (if not completely factual) but completely fun film. Yet, I think less for your viewing pleasure and more for the safety of your wallet, wait for this one to hit a video store near you.
