Review-palooza

First, two long ones.

“This is very much a screenwriter’s movie: Not only does Harry talk and talk and talk, but most of the dialogue feels like the sort of stuff a smart writer might try to insert into an action flick, only to be overruled by studio suits. There’s also ample casual nudity from most of the actresses, which could be a reaction to studio films in which such things must be carefully negotiated with big-name stars.”

which movie? FIND OUT

This one’s more obvious:

“Talk about striking while the iron is hot: It’s been only a year since Saw became an instant cult hit, as well as a topic of debate among horror fans. Was it an innovative new classic, or did the occasionally lackluster acting and ludicrous final twist doom it to also-ran status? Back then, my review asked that “if this thing becomes a franchise, let’s demand more logic for the sequel.” Someone paid attention: Saw II, despite the swift turnaround time, improves on all of the first film’s problem areas, while leaving intact everything that was good about the concept.”

the rest HERE

Click the “More” link for a buttload of quick takes, a.k.a. “How I spent my weekend”

National Lampoon’s Barely Legal

Putting the “poon” back in “National Lampoon,” this low-budget pick-up is, at the very least, not as terrible as last year’s National Lampoon’s Gold Diggers, delivering sufficient gratuitous nudie shots that those lured in by the poster ought not be too disappointed. Other than that, it’s the exact same plot as The Girl Next Door, only way less funny. High school virgins Deacon (Erik von Detten), Fred (Tony Denman), and Matt (Daniel Farber) decide that the way to become successful is to make a porn film in Deacon’s basement, but they’re fairly incompetent at it, and alleged hilarity ensues. Amy Smart, playing Deacon’s dream girl and belying her last name by even appearing here, is getting too old to play high school age, and Horatio Sanz’s Ron Jeremy impersonation wears thin very quickly (fellow SNLers Chris Parnell and Rachel Dratch are even less funny in their cameos). Oh, and Tom Arnold plays Deacon’s dad — his presence really tells you everything you need to know about the film.

DOOM

About eight years ago, when The Rock was dominating the WWE world title scene and Doom was dominating my PlayStation screen, the notion that the two might come together in a movie would have been a glorious pipedream. It should have stayed one. I’m not ashamed to admit that I like director Andrzej Bartkowiak’s DMX/Jet Li movies, but he’s out of his depth here, with a movie that often plays like a parody of the way videogame nerds think tough military men behave, as The Rock unleashes an endless stream of profanities as if he were a naughty child who just discovered them.

The early Doom games dropped you straight into Hell and let you blow away cyber-demons in castle-like dungeons; the movie just takes place in a generic dark space station, with more zombie-like monsters — it’s based on the moodier, less fun Doom 3 game. The Rock may be the marquee name, but Karl Urban is our hero, a guy named Grimm whose nickname is “Reaper” (that’s as witty as it gets, folks). Reluctant to go to Mars and investigate a lab accident because of a childhood trauma that occurred there, he nonetheless rises to the occasion and must protect his sister (Rosamund Pike, annoying) from Stan Winston’s blood-soaked creations.

There’s a first-person shooting-gallery style sequence late in the movie that duplicates the game exactly, and is fantastic (Jon Farhat directed that bit), but nothing else onscreen comes close. And for a Doom movie to culminate in a climactic fist-fight between two humans? That’s just wrong.

Nine Lives

Yet another indie film about a series of interconnected lives, Rodrigo Garcia’s movie is basically several short stories put together, with primary characters from previous episodes occasionally intruding as supporting players in the later ones. The protagonists are all women, and a formidable line-up — Amy Brenneman, Glenn Close, Robin Wright Penn, Kathy Baker, Sissy Spacek, Glenn Close, Molly Parker, Holly Hunter, Mary Kay Place, and the ubiquitous Dakota Fanning all feature prominently. Recurring themes include motherhood, thirst, aging, imprisonment, and death. The best take us places we don’t expect — the Brenneman segment, in which she attends the funeral of her deaf ex-husband’s wife, reveals sign language phrases they won’t teach you in school — while the worst, like the one with Lisa Gay Hamilton as the daughter of a philanderer, mine clichéd emotional turf. Five or six lives might have felt more concise; nine test the patience a bit, though it is impressive that each is composed of a single Steadicam shot.

Stay

The way the studio “promoted” this movie, barely screened it for press, and is now practically abandoning it into theaters might lead one to expect a cheapie horror toss-off, but it’s actually a far better movie than you’d think. Director Marc Forster (Monster’s Ball, Finding Neverland) has always been overly infatuated with filters and editing tricks, but here they serve an equally surreal plotline. Psychiatrist Ewan McGregor has a disturbed patient (Ryan Gosling) who promises to commit suicide in three days. As the doctor probes the case further, he encounters people who should be dead but aren’t, strange cases of déjà vu, and crowd scenes populated entirely by twins and triplets. Meanwhile, his lovely fiancée (Naomi Watts) has stopped taking her medication, and may be reverting into her own depressive past. The movie’s tagline sucks the wind out of Forster’s sails a bit by steering you towards the real ending, and the initial build-up is slow, but nonetheless, it’s a thoughtful thriller definitely worth your time.

Ushpizin

A good-hearted movie aimed at Orthodox Jews who don’t normally go to the movies, Giddi Dar’s film feels more inclusive and accessible to outsiders than similar movies aimed at specific faiths — which is the whole point. The movie is about welcoming outsiders in during the Succoth festival, when true believers build and live in temporary shelters as a reminder of the nomadic history of the Jews. Moshe (Shuli Rand) and Mali (Michal Bat-Sheva Rand) are a penniless couple who can’t afford to build a shelter, then happen to find one along with a handsome cash donation. But Moshe has a dark past as a violent criminal, and when a friend from the old days (Shaul Mizrahi) shows up with a shady cohort (Ilan Ganani), having escaped from prison, tradition requires Moshe to be a hospitable host, a duty that pushes him to the breaking point. The film extols the virtues of charity and generosity without sugar-coating the difficulty of same, and if it opens viewers’ eyes up to a strange culture, so much the better.

G

Single-letter abbreviations are popular amongst the hip-hop kids these days, so much as “O” was a contemporary cinematic update of Othello, “G” updates The Great Gatsby to the nouveau riche hip-hop set in the Hamptons, albeit with a few more liberties to Fitzgerald than most would dare take with Shakespeare. Richard T. Jones is Summer G, the fabulously well-off but lonely music mogul who briefly rekindles a spark with the love of his life, Sky (Chenoa Maxwell), the one who got away and is now married to an abusive, philandering ass (Blair Underwood). Caught in between is Sky’s cousin Tracey (Andre Royo), who works for her hubbie’s father, but would much prefer that she ends up with the gentler G. Director Christopher Scott Cherot (Hav Plenty) has an ambiguous attitude towards hip-hop — initially he seems to be defying stereotypes, but by the end the film apparently endorses the notion that rap is for heartless thugs. But props for being more ambitious than the average cotemporary black romantic drama.

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