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This is a pretty good episode and, in my opinion, one of the better ones of the sixth season. This was when the show was at it's best, just before the quality of the series began to decline. It was also when more and more of the plots started to move away from the Ingalls familial relationships and focus on other characters and stories. The story opens with Milo Stavroupolis, who was once the mighty European Heavyweight Greco-Roman wrestling champion and is now a patsy paid to lose in fixed wrestling matches.

His wife is in the hospital, dying, and admonishes him for making himself a laughingstock in the fake matches, and pretending that he loves it. Milo tries to explain, unconvincingly, that he does indeed care because he is only giving the public what they want. In truth, he is only participating in the matches because he needs to pay his wife's hospital bills. His wife, Anna, doesn't buy it and wishes she wasn't in such poor health so he wouldn't have to resort to the wrestling schemes to keep her alive.

As it turns out, the next stop for Milo (traveling as the # 1 Heavyweight Wrestling Contender), Champion Hans Mueller, and their shrewd, conniving promoter, Jimmy Hart is in Mankato. They search for a new "contender" to wrestle Milo, only planning to have him lose the bout to the Champ, Mueller, to lengthen they odds so that they can make more money.

Well, the next guy happens to be Jonathan "Big John" Garvey. Jimmy and Milo take an immediate interest in Garvey, noticing his size and strength while he is unloading his wagon. Milo picks a fight with him, letting Garvey manhandle him. After some conning by Hart, Garvey is persuaded into thinking that he is he's a good wrestler and agrees to wrestle Milo again in an elimination bout, while making him think that he will most likely beat the Champ, Mueller.

After Jonathon beats Milo in the fixed bout, and Milo finds out that his wife has died, Milo has a change of heart, and we learn that Jimmy Hart isn't the only one with tricks up his sleeve. Milo, desperate to redeem himself, confronts Garvey telling him that the bout was indeed fixed, and that he threw the match. After they wrestle again, Garvey is indeed convinced that Milo is the real deal. He agrees to let Milo stand in for him in the Championship bout. Milo then tells Mueller at the start of the bout "This time, I not wrestle like clown."

The ending is actually somewhat predictable, but very redeeming and satisfying. Leo Gordon, playing thugs most of his career, does an excellent job of playing the confused and depressed Milo Stavroupolis. We see his inner conflict and his ambivalence about the predicament he's in. Ray Walston is also excellent as the crooked and smooth-talking conman, Jimmy Hart. Jack Yates is also good as the smug, arrogant Champion.

I wonder if this episode has any historical accuracy, as the premise of the story still has relevance today with the WWF being as fake as it is. The King is Dead is a good character study and more about the redemption of a human being and being truthful, rather than wrestling. This is a well-acted, entertaining, and very satisfying episode to watch. The King is Dead is definitely a contender for one of the season's best episodes.

On These Grounds opens with the quote "Pull a thread here and you'll find that it's attached to the rest of the world." Amen. Unfortunately, the world is spiraling downward very fast. This movie is a prime example of that. The level we've sunk to is amazing, infuriating, and scary. This movie reminded me exactly of just how infuriating it was watching "Stranger Fruit." The movie's focus is on a disrespectful belligerent student, who happens to be a black female and makes her into not only a victim, but a hero. On October 26th, 2015, at Spring Valley High in South Carolina, Officer Ben Fields was called in to a classroom by a math teacher. The student, Shakara, was politely asked to leave the classroom and refused. Hold it right there. Why didn't she just do as she was told? Her friend Niya encouraged her classmates to get their cameras out. She started questioning the officer. The officer forcefully removed the student. Both were later taken to jail for their actions. The officer was later fired for excessive force. The officer was white and the students were black. Supposition: racism.

Okay, I'll concede that going to jail may be a little harsh, but why are students disrupting class in the first place? Why did the teacher feel the need to call the officer to the classroom? This is exactly what is wrong with society today: encouraging disrespect for authority, supporting the disrespectful people who cause the problems, and wrongfully blaming the authority figures. It's also calling this a racial issue. The movie has everything backwards. This was not a racial issue, it's another one of those issues our society is making into a racial issue.

The student, Shakara, was an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) student, with a learning disability. She was attending a math class and wanted to call her resource teacher because she didn't understand math and refused to take the classroom test, thinking she would most likely fail. The teacher asked her to leave the classroom. She refused. At this point, the film focuses on the teacher being at fault for just giving her a detention and "leaving it at that." Really? Doesn't the teacher have a right to remove a student from the classroom? Maybe the kid wasn't disrupting the class, but she was still being disrespectful. Why isn't the focus on the fact that maybe if the student had just left, this "excessive force" would've been unnecessary?

Officer Ben Fields politely asked her to leave, he tried to be reasonable, and she refused. The officer physically removed her, throwing her to the ground. After several attempts to be reasonable, the student was resisting and not complying. The disturbing thing about this film is that focus is never on teaching kids to respect authority, but rather, why are our kids being arrested? Why are officers getting physical with the kids?

Maybe if parents taught these young disrespectful kids to just do as their told and argue in front of the judge instead of refusing to comply with and respect authority, maybe we wouldn't have these problems. If students were taught respect for their teachers in the first place, maybe we wouldn't need police in the schools. Why not focus on the real problem? Society needs to get their priorities straight and get that part right. If we focus more on moving closer to teaching respect for law and order, rather than moving closer to anarchy and anti-authority, we definitely wouldn't have these problems. The movie needs to get that part right.

Carbon Copy is one of those movies where you may laugh occasionally, but later you realize that you're not proud of what you're laughing at. This movie seemed like it had something to say about WASPs, affluence and racial discrimination, but didn't know really how to say it. The old adage "the wrong execution of the right idea" does indeed do justice to this film.

Carbon Copy is intended to be a comedy, when in truth, it's more offensive than funny. That's because it seems to take racism seriously and not presenting it as a joke. Movies like Blazing Saddles were funny because when they're intended as comedies and poking fun of racism, the material is indeed laughable because we know it's supposed to be funny. When it's presented as a serious situation and the way people think life is supposed to be, it's not going to work in a comedy. The racism portrayed in this movie would have been much more effective as a drama with better writing as a social commentary, but back to the movie.

The movie starts with Walter Whitney (George Segal), whom we learn has later anglicized his name from Weisenthal, living with a wife named Vivian (Susan Saint James) who doesn't show him affection and a stepdaughter Mary Ann (Vicky Dawson) who doesn't show him any respect. Walter lives in the very affluent, white community of San Marino, California. This looks like a place where no one would be able to live if they weren't a white millionaire.

Despite his empty home life, Walter seems content to be in a high paying job, driving a nice car, and living in a mansion. Walter then gets hit right between the eyes with an unexpected shock that changes his life and turns his world upside down, a visit from a seventeen-year-old black boy who tells him he's his son, a bright young man by the name of Roger Porter, played very well by Denzel Washington in his film debut (the only real significance this film seems to have). Walter loved Roger's mother, Lorraine, but seems reluctant to accept his son as he knows it will jeopardize his career status as well as his acceptance in his family and community.

We learn that Roger's father-in-law, played by Jack Warden, in a flashback encouraged Walter to end his relationship with Lorraine to marry his daughter, who is white, or he would not be accepted in the community. This is where the flaws in the movie begin. Why is this information being given to the audience in a scene where Walter is confiding in his lawyer and best friend Victor (Dick Martin) before the scene where he meets his son, rather than after? It seems like the information is being forced on the audience to set up the other scenes, rather than explain it in a logical sequence after Walter meets his son.

Roger has bad news, his mother Lorraine, has just died. Walter seems to accept him only because he sees him as the offspring of the woman he once loved, and not unconditionally because he's his son. The screenplay never makes it clear whether he feels guilty for abandoning the woman he loved or that he wants to get to know his son when they first meet.

Walter, knowing that Roger will not be accepted as his son because of his race, tries to disguise the situation by convincing his wife to "adopt an under-privileged black teenager" so that her friends in the community will see her as compassionate. The plan is to "make it her victory, not your defeat." Walter and Vivian agree that Roger can board with them "only if he stays in the garage." Real hospitable.

At the dinner table, Vivian asks, of all people, her daughter Mary Ann's, if her fiancee's father, who's a respected judge in the community, would approve of Roger. Only then will they agree to allow him to live with them. Vivian later learns that the real reason Walter wants him in their home and adopt him is that he's his biological son, just as Mary Ann is Vivian's biological daughter. Vivian refuses to accept him because he's black.

Walter is thrown out of the house, his car (which belongs to the company he works for) is confiscated, his credit cards are cut, and his father-in-law and boss fires him. All the marital assets are transferred to his wife, and she then wants a divorce. Things really start to go downhill for Roger, he has his belongings thrown onto his lawn, no one in the area will hire him, he moves in with his son to a cheap motel and later a slum apartment, and he finally has to resort to shoveling horse manure just so that they can afford to eat.

Walter's father-in-law and wife later pay him a visit in the run-down apartment, showing respect for his resilience and ability to survive. They agree to take him back only if he returns without his son. Roger later confesses that he only entered Walter's life to cause trouble for him because he was angry that he abandoned his mother. Roger also admits that he was happy when his problems began, and later agrees that they should part ways and return to their own worlds where they belong. Walter later learns to love his son after learning that he is not a high school dropout, but a gifted student pursuing further education, he seems to want to get to know his son rather than seeing him as a distraction. Is this because he has a new respect for him? Or does he just love him because he's intelligent and a good student? This is never clarified either.

The ending, which I will not give away, is neither redeeming nor satisfying because it doesn't seem like the changes in the Segal character's attitude about his son or the people surrounding him have any credibility. Why doesn't the argument with Walter and his father-in-law about his lack of acceptance for non-whites, specifically Roger, have more anger and emotion? It would have been much more effective as longer scene with more clarity and intensity instead of just a scene with a brief quarrel. It cheats the audience out what could have been a great climactic moment in the story.

There are also some questions that go unanswered in the movie. Questions like why would such a smart, educated businessman like Walter have no money saved or assets protected? Why wouldn't he just use a checking account instead of credit cards if he makes so much money? How could he not know he has an illegitimate son?

George Segal gives a very good performance and so does Denzel Washington. Perhaps they gave a better performance than their characters deserve. The director of the movie, Michael Schultz, ironically, is black. Strange. You'd think with all the racial insults and stereotyping in the movie that a black man would stay as far away from the project as possible.

Carbon Copy was released in 1981, even then, after racial jokes on show like All in The Family and shows with black cast members like What's Happening, Sanford and Son, Good Times, and The Jeffersons (quite possibly "four of their own television shows" being alluded to in the movie by Susans Saint James) hit the tv airwaves, I still think the material would have been taken offensively by audiences.

The message this movie seems to convey is that society will not accept you and will not be able to live a comfortable lifestyle unless you're white. Jews, blacks, hispanics, etc., are "not one of us" therefore not accepted in those affluent social circles. This may be true to a certain extent, but when a movie takes it seriously as a true reality, it's not comical. This is another one of those movies which has the potential to be good, if the writing fit the genre. Carbon Copy would have had something to say as a dramatic social commentary film with better writing, instead of intending to send a message as a comedy. It just doesn't work.

I remember watching this film in junior high school. The movie is short, but it has a good message: don't ignore signs of suicide. Matt and Bart are two young men whose close mutual friend Jack has just been buried. Jack died in car wreck, we know that much, but is there more to it than that?

Larry Wilcox is excellent as the introspective Matt, he remembers problems in Jack's past and his depression. As he digs deeper and deeper in his thoughts and remembers possible clues Jack was giving about his problems and loss of enthusiasm for life. Was Jack really suicidal?

I think what the movie is trying to say is that it's always hard when something is a suicide rather than an accidental death. When someone dies by a means other than suicide, there's an answer. When it's suicide, there's always questions we ask ourselves. We ask if we could have stopped it, or if we could have done something. Sometimes those little extra things can make a difference: like stopping, listening and valuing what the person is saying, and alerting others.

I think the movie is simply telling people not to ignore the signs of a suicidal person. Suicide may very well be something that can't always be stopped. Maybe, though, listening to a suicidal person and doing extra things to help, sometimes can make all the difference in the world.

The final season of "Little House on the Prairie" was definite proof that it's better to pull the plug on an episodic television series too early than to drag a series out and have it end up not being remembered for as great a series as it should have been if it had quit while it was ahead. Is it better to quit too early, too late, or the right time? Like the old saying goes in entertainment, too soon is the right time. The ninth season of Little House had some episodes that were good, but not great. The majority of the episodes from this final season were mediocre and a few were just plain terrible. Only "The Empire Builders," the two-part "The Wild Boy" and "Home Again," and "Little Lou" episodes saved the ninth season from being a total waste.

Nevertheless, this was an interesting episode about how the American dream can at times turn into a nightmare. The story opens with a railroad in the beginning stages of development to connect the eastern and western parts of the country, and plans are made to route through Walnut Grove. At first, the residents are enthusiastic, as this will mean more money, activity, and excitement for the town. It isn't long however, before the people of Walnut Grove change their minds, when it means two farmers, namely Almonzo Wilder and John Carter, will lose their farms in the process as the railroad will need to use their property to lay down the track. This is where the episode gets interesting.

The law of eminent domain gives the government the right to buy any home and take a citizen's land and property, if it is for the purpose of benefitting the public in the long run. This specific law has helped build public interstate highways, and public and private colleges as well as railroads. Chances are almost 100% if the government wants you out, you will not win an argument against their right to evict you for the purpose of eminent domain. So, your best bet may just be to take what they offer you and move, rather than putting up a useless fight.

This is exactly how the law of eminent domain is explained to Laura and Almonzo by a lawyer they see to find out what their options are when faced with the dilemma of losing their farm to the railroad. The attorney graciously and altruistically declines payment, because as he says "I'm afraid I wasn't much help to you" and advises them to take whatever money they can get and clear out.

The railroad company reacts to the opposition by going to immoral and violent extremes to keep their project up-to-date and take out anyone who gets in their way, starting with an assault on John Carter, who refuses to budge.

Fortunately, the railroad does have a man of character in an idealistic, compassionate surveyor named Hobson, who later befriends Reverend Alden. Hobson has experienced more frustration than fulfillment in his hopes to make a valuable career for himself by helping build a railroad, something he never thought would happen at the expense of others. He is very kind and humble, and not ruthless or cold like the others. Reverend Alden commends him for his morality and says he considers him a friend.

Just when the situation appears to be hopeless, Almonzo has ideas. "How much would a nice long delay cost them?" Almonzo asks Hobson. "Oh, one day would cost them a fortune" Hobson quickly replies. Hobson agrees to help their cause and persuades a colleague to conduct a land survey to see if the railroad could conceivably run through nearby Tracy, while the residents of Walnut Grove hold down the fort, Carter's farm, to be exact. Hitting them in the pocket book is sometimes the best way to fight any organization, government or corporation, no matter how powerful they are. This is perhaps the greatest lesson this episode has to offer.

Although the entertaining plot, interesting characters, and educational information is somewhat watered down with some corny and unnecessary "we love this land and we're going to fight for it" monologues, they're easily forgiven and forgotten because of all the other great elements in the story. I will not give away the ending, but the final confrontation is definitely entertaining and something to see. If you want to see a good episode where you can learn something about history, government, and fighting for your rights, "The Empire Builders" definitely fits the bill.

This is one of the best episodes of this great series. I think this also has an excellent message: violent youths should not be treated as errant children, but rather dangerous human beings. Compassion is a great thing to have, but sometimes, compassion can be taken too far and can keep people from seeing the truth. This can be a tough lesson to learn, but it needs to be understood. The premise of this episode, even though it aired in the late 1970's, still has relevance today.

One day, Coach Reeves is required to substitute for the school's gym teacher, Mr. Davis. He encounters an unruly, violent, and disrespectful youth named Lucius Robinson. Robinson punches Reeves, and Reeves, very appropriately, hits him back in self-defense. Robinson is later expelled after an inquiry by the administration.

Reeves feels guilty that he didn't exert more self control, and thinks he shouldn't have hit the kid, because he is the adult. "This kid is also six feet, a hundred an eighty pounds" rebuts the principal, putting things in the proper perspective. The principal argues that Reeves did indeed do the right thing, and had to defend himself. He also informs Reeves that because of Robinson's long history of violence and trouble, the DA wants to charge Robinson as an adult with assault and battery.

Robinson tries to make a seemingly sincere apology to Reeves, telling him that his mother is an alcoholic and his father is on welfare, and that he's a poor kid from a slum. Reeves at first believes him. He later makes a trip to his home to find out he is not at all an impoverished child and that his parents are very nice people.

The fight between the teacher and student stirs up a lot of talk in the school. The main reaction from the other teachers being happiness that someone finally stood up to the rebellious, disrespectful Robinson. Coach Reeves's main struggle is that he wants to help the troubled Robinson, rather than put him in jail. Reeves argues that a psychiatric evaluation may be the way to go.

One shop teacher, during a discussion with Reeves over coffee, makes what is perhaps the best message the episode has to offer. He describes in detail how some of his past students attacked him, and they were punished with way too much leniency. "In our society, kids are sacred, they can literally get away with murder." He goes on to explain that when students attack teachers, they basically get a slap on the wrist, but when a teacher hits a student, they're punished much more severely. It isn't fair, and it's not right. The teacher makes the point that Robinson should be used as an example to serve notice on him, and other violent students like him, that attacking a teacher for the first time could result in prison and have greater consequences.

Reeves later learns that some kids are just bad apples whom you can't help, or don't want to be helped. Violent youths have to be dealt with and their behavior should not be tolerated. If someone is shot with a gun, that victim will be just as injured whether the person firing the gun is 15 or 75. Dangerous human beings, kids or not, need to be punished. I think this is an excellent episode for teenagers, judges, teachers, parents, and law enforcement professionals to view and discuss.

The Accused, the only film I've seen about rape, has some very important messages about the crime and the victims. No matter how a woman is dressed, how sexy she may look, or how flirtatious she may be, she has the right to say no and be respected. Also, if you encourage and applaud a crime, like rape, you are just as responsible for the crime as the assailants.

The unfairness of the legal system is very clear here: rape victims are just that, victims. Just because a woman may have dressed provocatively, or flirtatiously, doesn't mean she asked for it or deserved it. The rapists and the onlooker are the ones at fault. The unfortunate truth is, the legal system and the society doesn't always see it that way.

Jodie Foster, in what is unquestionably the finest performance of her career, plays Sarah Tobias, the victim of a brutal gang rape. Sarah is no angel, she drinks heavily, smokes marijuana, and has a live-in boyfriend who's a drug dealer. She's somewhat inarticulate, doesn't appear to have much formal education, and speaks her mind bluntly when expressing her anger.

Kelly McGillis, in another convincing performance, plays Deputy District Attorney Katherine Murphy. Murphy is a smart and talented DA who does sympathize with Sarah, but has become somewhat inured to the flaws of the legal system. She wants the rapists incarcerated, but doesn't seem to want to pull with both hands because she doesn't believe Sarah will make a strong enough witness.

The crime is plea bargained down to a lesser charge of reckless endangerment. Sarah is justifiably outraged for two reasons: it was not reckless endangerment, and she never got to testify in court. It is only after Sarah is verbally harassed by one of the onlookers (against whom Sarah retaliates in her own fit of rage in a scene where I won't reveal the details), that McGillis's character begins to see things clearly: the victim has a right to be heard and have her day in court.

"I can offer that to you now," she later tells Sarah, "the deal won't matter because the the rape will go on record." She decides to prosecute the onlookers who encouraged the rape for Criminal Solicitation. This is perhaps the greatest message in the movie: if you not only don't step in and stop a crime, but actually encourage it, you are still an accessory and guilty of a criminal act.

Her superiors in the District Attorney's Office are, at first, against this: but McGillis persists. She knows the three men did encourage the attack and kept it going. It is really refreshing to watch her transition from indifference during plea bargaining to having full empathy and finally fighting like hell for a powerless victim who can't fight for herself.

All of this doesn't mean The Accused is a masterpiece, but is a well written, well crafted movie. The brilliant performance of Jodie Foster carries the film, and it left me thinking and very satisfied. It is a movie that gives the members of society a chance to examine their consciences. No means no.

The Glass House is as interesting and fascinating as it is gruesome and horrifying. After seeing all the accounts of corruption and violence, we have every reason to believe it when the opening credits say "The story and characters are ficticious (sic), but the situations are real." It's also kind of ironic and comical that whoever wrote that sentence needs a course in spelling. This movie, as I understand, was filmed entirely on location in Utah State Prison. Many, if not all, of the extras are real inmates, which adds to the authenticity of the film.

The movie begins a with handful of convicts, including a college professor named Jonathon Paige (Alan Alda); a naïve, young drug pusher, Alan Campbell (Kristoffer Tabori), and an idealistic corrections officer named Brian Courtland (Clu Gulager) all starting their first day in prison. The new fish are introduced to the brutal, vicious crime boss Hugo Slocum, played brilliantly by the classic villain character actor Vic Morrow. We know he means business right from the get-go ("...when I offer you somethin' for free, you take it!").

Paige is assigned to work in the prison pharmacy, where he refuses to supply one of Slocum's men, Ajax (Scott Hylands), with drugs. Big mistake. Now he's really put a bullseye on his back. "Too bad," says the other inmate in the pharmacy, whom we only know as Lennox (Billy Dee Williams), "you could've done easy time." Amen. We learn there is sometimes a fine line between morals and sensibility.

The story reveals more violence, corruption, and tragedy: there's a scalding, knifing, gang rape, and an accidental shooting. At first, Officer Courtland, being a man of principle, is excited and anxious to work in the prison system, because he wants to make a difference. The guards, however, seem to be content to look the other way, and the Warden seems oblivious, too. As Courtland sees the unraveling of violence among the inmates, along with corruption and indifference among the staff, he begins to question the integrity of the system. Just as Lennox bluntly states, "Cons, guards, can't tell the difference after a while." We see that this is shockingly true.

Courtland tries to warn the cold Warden (Dean Jagger) that a killing is inevitable, but the Warden shrugs it off by saying "Sometimes it's just better to let certain given situations adjust themselves" (translation: I don't care if the inmates kill each other). Meanwhile, another one of Slocum's gang, who knows he's going to be slain shortly, gives a handwritten notebook, with records of the guards Slocum bribed, to Paige. They both know that if the book can somehow get to the right people on the outside, the violence and corruption can be exposed. However, the situation is about to boil over, and Paige knows time is closing in on him.

The characters are all very well-written and well-played by the actors. Alan Alda is convincing as the sincere and confused professor who is trying to keep everyone off his back, do his time and get out. Vic Morrow is magnificent as the tough, brutal, ruthless gang boss who wants it his way or no way at all, and will kill anyone who challenges him. Clu Gulager is equally resounding as the heroic, wholesome prison guard who is a little wet behind the ears. Kristoffer Tabori gives a good performance as the little lost puppy with his tail between his legs. We know he's going be attacked sooner or later, and he plays fear and realization best with the horror in his eyes and his facial expressions. Billy Dee Williams's character, Lennox, the inmate who is morally correct, yet tough and smart enough to know the art of prison survival, was one of the most interesting in the film, but could've benefitted from more screen time. We really believe his sincerity when he says, "I want these men to realize their value as individuals and as human beings." I would've like to have known a little more about him, and what made him tick.

The Glass House raises a lot of interesting and provocative questions about society in general and the prison system specifically. "I'm not in love with this system, but it's all we've got, and it's better than having no system at all" says the Warden, stone-faced. Is it true? Or is the system whatever we make it to be? Is prison always the answer for convicted criminals? Are there some inmates who are just bad apples that can't be rehabilitated? Are the prison personnel with morals and principles always going to be vastly outnumbered by the indifferent and corrupt? Are inmates nothing more to the penal system than garbage to be dumped in the prisons? Should prison be the living hell for convicts that the movie makes it out to be? Does prison really reform criminals? Can any positive changes be made to the penal system? Does anybody really care?

Sports can be very rewarding in a lot of ways. You can get health, self-esteem, friendship, accomplishments, glory, but most of all you can have a lot of fun. If playing is not fun, it isn't something anyone should do. Sometimes, overly obsessive and aggressive coaches can, and often do, take the fun out of the game. "Fight Team Fight" was not the greatest or most entertaining episode of the Little House on The Prairie series (which aired in the show's seventh season, just around the time quality of the series began to decline rapidly) but it does send a valuable message: it's more important to be morally correct than to win.

Pete Ellerbee has returned to Walnut Grove, where he grew up, after retiring "from a successful business back east." Ellerbee was an exceptional college football player at Rutgers, and was so good and tough that he'd been nicknamed "Big Rock." Nels Oleson who played against Ellerbee when he was at Princeton, welcomes him back to town and volunteers to step down as coach and let Ellerbee take the helm (this is a flaw in the historical accuracy of the show, as college football wasn't played until 1869, and these two men were much too old to have played).

Ellerbee's interest in football is really an obsession. He works the boys extremely hard in practice, their grades begin to decline, and he doesn't seem to care about injuries. He thinks that playing with pain is "part of football." He perceives football to be the main priority in everyone's whole life, rather than just one part of it.

This obsession leads to confrontations with his family, Charles Ingalls, and Mrs Wilder, the schoolteacher. When he confronts her saying the she should cut down on homework during football season to make the game easier for the boys to play, Mrs Wilder tells him, correctly, that "football is an extracurricular activity" and that he should be making practices shorter, as the education of the students is more important. He storms out like a spoiled child and refuses to listen to reason.

Perhaps the greatest lesson comes in the next part of the episode, when Albert Ingalls injures his ribs in practice. Albert's father Charles agrees to let him play in the first game, after a little pressure from Coach Ellerbee, and admits that "it's against my better judgment." Toward the end of the game, when Walnut Grove is in a position to score, it's very obvious that Albert's in serious pain. Ellerbee refuses to take Albert out, telling him to use his pain, and that playing injured is part of the game.

Charles wisely intervenes and takes him out, allowing the town physician, Dr Baker to examine his ribs. "This time there's no doubt about it" says the compassionate doctor, Albert definitely has broken ribs. Charles then tells Ellerbee what the audience has probably been thinking for most of the episode, saying "What kind of a man are you?" Dr Baker tells Albert that not paying attention to pain is foolish and that if pain is not respected, it can lead to serious injury.

Mr Ellerbee is very hard on the team after they lose, saying "No game you lose is a good game." While Charles says they played well and they have "nothing to be ashamed of." Mr Ellerbee has lost sight of reality, and is teaching values that can be inappropriate. When a coach puts winning over the welfare and safety of a player, that's the lowest level of win-at-all costs. Also, there is no shame in losing, provided that players have given their best effort.

This story is an excellent display of the negative effects of obsession with winning and what they can turn a person into. Mr Ellerbee's son obviously hates playing the game, and his wife later tells him that "this obsession of your's with football is getting a little of control." He doesn't love his son unconditionally, and football is the only way his son Dan can win his father's love. Mr Ellerbee refuses to hear any of this. Albert tells Mr Ellerbee that playing is supposed to be fun and that Mr Ellerbee has taken that element out of the game. The sad thing is that he only seems to listen to reason when it comes from his best player, and not the people that he loves, or should love.

The biggest lesson this episode teaches, in my opinion, is that we should never take the fun out of the game, especially when it comes to coaching young boys. The ending of this episode is somewhat tragic, but does provide hope that this obsessive coach has learned something from the situation. This is a perfect example of how not to be a coach. The lessons to be learned are when dedicated efforts to win in sports are appropriate, and indeed when they are not.

Do you remember one teacher who made things fun and interesting? Made you love to learn. Jaime Escalante, the main character and hero of "Stand and Deliver" is exactly that type of teacher. He has some eccentricities: he has a strange walk, sometimes talks to himself, and has strange ways of getting his points across. The important thing is: his teaching methods are interesting and efficacious.

Edward James Olmos, in the greatest performance of his career, is magnificent as Jaime Escalante. He has come to the barrio Garfield High School to teach computer science, after giving up a better paying job in the private sector. He has one problem: the computers haven't come yet. He wants to teach math. He is surprised at the problems he sees at the school, most notably the crimes, violence, and indifference to learning. The scene where he notices the radio missing from his car after his first day is especially humorous, without being too silly.

Mr Escalante, who is himself Latino, finds himself teaching a lot of latino and hispanic students from similar backgrounds. He wants them to be the best they can be, and be proud of their heritage. When he suggests teaching them Calculus, he is told by the head of the department that it will destroy the students morale, because of their lack of education and it's too much to expect. He responds with the perfect answer "students will rise to the level of expectations." This is what a great teacher does: he refuses to write the students off as losers. If you tell them they're going to be failures, that's all they'll ever be.

The students do rise to the occasion, after working all through the summer to learn the mathematical rigors of algebra, geometry, and trigonometry, they're ready for the AP Calculus test. Every student who takes the test passes. Unfortunately, through "anomalies" that were detected (but no real, solid proof) the Educational Testing Services suspects they cheated. We do know, however, that they did not cheat.

This is where the movie raises interesting questions, and also makes meaningful statements. When a very discouraged Escalante talks the matter over with his wife, she is very supportive and understanding, telling him that no matter what, the kids are getting an education, and they learned. He responds, "Yeah, they learned that if you worked real hard, nothing changes." I loved it when Mr Escalanted confronts the two members of the Educational Testing Service, who, no matter how rational their reasoning may be, cannot give a single, valid reason to support their suspicions that the students cheated. Escalante gets angry, and rightfully so, saying "You can't prove anything, my kids didn't do anything." "If these kids didn't have Spanish surnames or come from a barrio school, these scores would have never been questioned!" We can identify with his anger, and know he is justified.

By the end of the movie, which I won't give away, and everything comes full circle, it's very satisfying. What makes this movie work is not only that students learn, but we actually like watching them enjoy the process. Unlike "Dead Poets Society" where the students only wind up liking the teacher, and not the subject, in "Stand and Deliver" the students actually appreciate math and the teacher. Perhaps the most important quality the movie teaches us is that of belief. If you believe in people, even the academically disadvantaged, and are willing to give them a boost, and push them as far as their abilities will go, you really can succeed.

"At Close Range" is a tough movie to watch, primarily because of all the violence in it. What makes it worth seeing, though, are the performances by its two leads, Sean Penn and Christopher Walken, as father and son, respectively. The violence, I think, is essential to the plot because it's not so much "blood and guts" as it is about the measures people are willing to take to keep people, even family members, from jeopardizing their own lifestyle and freedom.

Sean Penn, who is fantastic as a young actor, plays Brad Whitewood, Junior, a kid who is not really a criminal by nature, but having grown in up in a blue collar family that was always scraping to get by, wants a taste of the good life, even if it means resorting to crime. When he sees what his father has from his profession as a thief: the beautiful wife, nice car, well-kept home, and money, he becomes obsessed with embracing the same lifestyle and material things. He wants in.

Christopher Walken is brilliant as Brad Whitewood, Senior. He is very subtle in his ways as an actor, but in this film, he was cast perfectly. He is able to transition, not only quickly, but also very smoothly, from being charismatic to downright malicious and evil. There are a lot of scenes he plays perfectly with his eyes. One minute they can have a smile in them, the next, they're cold and dead. This is, perhaps the most valuable characteristic of a master criminal, a brilliant con artist who can persuade anyone into doing anything, then kill them at the opportune moment. I think it's safe to say that this may just be his best performance.

Brad, Sr is reluctant to take his son under his wing to teach him how to be a professional thief, but eventually does so, perhaps out of love. Later, when the junior Brad gets a real taste of the criminal life, and witnesses a murder that may not have been necessary, he begins to have second thoughts. Although he no longer wants to be a part of his father's gang, he becomes overly confident, thinking that he can be a professional thief on this own. "...all you know is how to steel, you're too f---in' dumb to do that by yourself!" "Oh, you think so?" "I know so!" This is a harsh reality of criminal life that is perhaps the most painful, and difficult to swallow: once you're in (and if you are, you're usually in over your head) there is no turning back.

At this point, everything starts getting bad. Brad, Jr and his "kiddy gang" get caught in the act at the tail end of a tractor theft, and Brad, Sr's gang knows it's just a matter of time until someone talks. Brad, Jr is sitting in jail while all this is happening, because his bail has been set higher than the others. The authorities know that he'll be hunted by his father's gang and he may just be valuable enough to turn against them and testify.

It takes some time, actually too late, for the son to see how truly evil his father really is, because of his greed, desperation, and naiveté. Although this is definitely not a suitable film for young viewers, and extremely violent (including a series of shootings, and a rape), I think it is an excellent portrayal of how far some people are willing to go to get and stay ahead, because they believe that no matter how hard they work, for them there is no other way.

"At Close Range" was based on the true story of Bruce Johnston, Sr, who was an organized crime leader in the Amish country of Chester County, Pennsylvania, in the 1960's and 70's. The movie does not, as most true crime films, use real names, presumably for fear of libel suits. The movie events take place in 1978, which, history tells us, is the time that the Johnston gang was taken away after Bruce Johnston, Jr, took the stand against them.

Although Christopher Walken's character steals everything including the show, Sean Penn's performance is very good, too. He is very believable and makes clever choices as an actor. Penn is brilliant and persuasive playing a kid who is puzzled, greedy, hurt, angry and later vengeful. Like Walken, perhaps his best work is in his facial expressions, especially in the scenes where he's trying to figure what his father is up to and why. It's interesting to watch his transition from naive to finally understanding everything.

The soundtrack of the 70's songs, instrumental score, and most of all Madonna's "Live to Tell" really enhances the movie. The photography is quite scenic and beautiful. The acting is very convincing, and the screenplay is very good, with a suspenseful, yet somewhat unexpected, ending. Most of all, and most importantly, "At Close Range" is an interesting portrayal of a different and overlooked criminal aspect of our society.

I remember loving this movie when I saw it as a grade school kid growing up. It remains a classic, and to me, is more satisfying with each viewing. Perhaps it's because this may just be the most realistic movie about kids, friendship, and growing up I've ever seen. It's refreshing to know that they can make movies about young kids without portraying them as sex maniacs, criminals, or drug users.

My Bodyguard is about a high school student, oddly named Clifford Peache (Chris Makepeace), who is encountering trouble at school. After unwisely insulting a school bully nicknamed "Moody," (played wonderfully by Matt Dillon) he becomes a target. They want him to give them their lunch money, for protection. From who? "From themselves, of course, but that's not what they say.." no, indeed. They tell him they're trying to protect him from a big, tough kid named Ricky Linderman (played by Adam Baldwin in his film debut).

Clifford is somewhat small, he doesn't know how to fight, and he's not very intimidating, thus, he can't really defend himself. So, what he lacks in size, he more than makes up for in intelligence and cleverness. He decides that he wants to pay Ricky Linderman "to be my bodyguard." This is where the movie really begins, and makes an excellent turn.

Linderman is somewhat of an outcast and a loner at school, presumably because of his size, and some unkind rumors milling about the school. He has a reputation for being a psychopathic menace, but as it turns out, he's just a normal kid who experienced a tragic event. Clifford decides to get back at Moody with Linderman watching his back. Linderman is at first a little hesitant to accept Clifford's attempt at creating their friendship. Then, one day after Clifford is caught following his "bodyguard" home, their wonderful, unlikely friendship begins. The bonding sequence between these two unlikely companions is really satisfying to watch.

Not only does Linderman help Cliff, Cliff helps Linderman. Linderman begins to open up, alleviate his shyness, and relate better to people. He begins to understand that there are friends out there, and we all need support. This character transition that Baldwin makes is extremely well-acted and very convincing.

Clifford, we later learn, isn't the only one with tricks up his sleeve. Some scenes later in the movie, like Linderman getting pushed around by another tough kid, are a little difficult and painful to watch. The scenes about Cliff's grandmother (played by the wonderfully funny Ruth Gordon) and Martin Mull as his father trying to keep her under control in the bar of the hotel he manages, don't really go with the other scenes, and are almost like a film-within-a-film. That's easily forgiven and forgotten, though, because of the brilliance of the other parts, especially a great fight scene where everything comes together at the end. I haven't seen too many movies where I've liked the ending as much as this one.

The most gratifying thing about this movie, is perhaps the lessons that can be learned. I loved the scene where Clifford discusses the rumors about Linderman with one of the teachers, who more or less implies that we should judge people and form our own opinions instead of listening to rumors and gossip. Clifford is wise enough not to listen to the rumors. It's nice to know that people can be friends, despite differences in their backgrounds, economic status, or social circles. It reminded me of a line from On Golden Pond spoken by Katherine Hepburn: "Sometimes you have to look hard at a person, and realize they're doing the best they can." My Bodyguard does exactly that.

This is a very suitable film as well as great learning material for any teenager, teacher, or parent. The film is perfectly cast and the performances by the teenagers as well as the adults are fantastic. I liked the performance of Adam Baldwin the best, he starts out looking a little sloppy, scruffy, and primitive, but later goes through a transformation to a well-mannered, polite, affable, approachable young man. He is very convincing playing a kid who is tough, scared, sad, and angry at the same time. To make a treasure and a classic movie like this about teenagers and high school was some kind of miracle, and wonderful.

This film is perhaps not only one of the great sports movies of all time, but one of the best movies of all time, period. It's nice that a sports movie can be based upon how the camaraderie of the game can create friendships, especially during times of racism. I think it also portrays how truly nice it is that people who are competing for the same job can appreciate each other for who they are, not what they can do.

The story begins in 1965 about two running backs, as the trailer says "one white, the other black." Brian Piccolo, a white running back from the south, and a graduate of Wake Forest, is played magnificently by James Caan. Gale Sayers, a black, naturally athletic and lightning speed superstar from Nebraska, and graduate of Kansas, is played equally well by Billy Dee Williams.

We can see right away that both of these men have opposite personalities: Piccolo is a fun-loving, personable joker with a good sense of humor, and Sayers is a shy, quiet, unprepossessing gentlemanly type. Sayers is a tremendous athlete, never having problems succeeding in the game, while Piccolo is hard-working, tough as nails, and getting ahead not so much on ability, but through determination and maximum effort.

The Bears decide they are going to have players room together according to position, regardless of race. Sayers and Piccolo don't seem to know how to deal with it, but they still manage to get along and later become close friends. The wonderful quality this movie has is that is shows very convincing changes in both of them. Piccolo helps Sayers rehabilitate a knee injury because he wants to beat him out fair and square, not because he was injured. Sayers helps Piccolo become a better player, and is later promoted from second string halfback to starting fullback. Sayers, who is very shy at the start of the movie, later becomes more personable, and more comfortable around people.

Just when things start to go well for Piccolo, starting at fullback, gaining yards, and scoring touchdowns, tragedy strikes: Brian Piccolo has cancer in his right lung. The shocking news hits Sayers between the eyes like a rock. He makes a very moving speech to the team about dedicating their next game to him. Piccolo receives tremendous support from his teammamates, wife, and Sayers, who we now know is a true and loyal friend.

The casting of this film was fantastic, and they work together magnificently: Shelly Fabares and Judy Pace are terrific as the supportive wives, and Jack Warden is very convincing as Coach George Halas. Brian's Song is a wonderful film, not so much because it is about the glory of sports, but about the value of friendship. The instrumental musical piece of "The Hands of Time" truly magnifies the poignancy of the story as well. This film is a classic, and you'll be surprised how moved you'll be by the end.

When I saw the original Brian's Song from 1971 with Billy Dee Williams and James Caan, I was entertained and very moved. I didn't see how they could have done a better job with a story like this. As it turns out, I was right, but I never thought it would be a portent of things to come. Remaking a masterpiece like the original begs the question, as Roger Ebert once said "Why are they remaking the good movies? Why not remake the bad ones?" This film is definitely a case in point.

This version is, in a word, terrible. The writing is extremely bad, the acting is awful, and the scenes are dramatically shapeless. Most notably, the film was overtly miscast. The original 1971 film was honest, but appropriate about the racial issues at the time. The remake is much too delicate and only seems to be worried about being politically correct and inoffensive. Sorry, but that doesn't make for a realistic portrayal of the time period that this film is trying to illustrate.

In the original, Brian Piccolo, played by James Caan, is a likable, fun-loving, nice, loose guy with a good sense of humor and who loved life. Sean Maher's portrayal is a disgrace. In his performance, he makes Piccolo look like an annoying, ill-mannered, judgmental jerk. Mekhi Phifer is almost as bad as Gale Sayers, who makes him look like an on screen version of Deion Sanders. As the players in the movie put it, he does indeed come across as "uppity," flashy, and seemingly avoiding contact with others because he thinks he's better than they are, not because he's shy.

The other lead in the 1971 version, Billy Dee Williams, played Gale Sayers as the man he truly was: a quiet, unprepossessing, gentlemanly, shy type who simply felt awkward around people because he had trouble relating to them. I would've liked to have seen actors with personalities more similar to the characters portray these two players: like Rob Brown as Gale Sayers, and James Vanderbeek as Brian Piccolo.

The coaches are portrayed as stiff, businesslike men with no affability, personality, or compassion for the players. Ben Gazzara is totally unconvincing as George Halas, and looks and speaks more like a priest than a pro football coach. The dialogue is truly insulting because it spells out what we already know about the players. Most of the time, the characters sound like actors reciting their lines and forcing information on the audience, instead of people who are speaking conversationally and expressing their true feelings.

When Joy Piccolo says to Brian, after seeing Gale's acceptance speech for his rookie of the year award, "He's not arrogant, he's shy," it's useless information we already know. Another example: when Brian and Gale are running together to help rehabilitate Gale's injured knee, they're both expressing their worries, strengths, and weaknesses, most notably Gale's anxiety about life after football, and Brian's aspirations about when he'll actually be able to make his contribution to the team. These things were wisely never expressed in conversation in the original because the writing was intelligent enough to allow the audience to figure it out for themselves, without unnecessary discussion. Good films never use dialogue when they don't need to.

Finally, the beautiful instrumental musical version of the song "The Hands of Time" elevated the mood and poignancy of the first movie, which the remake could've used more often. Why didn't they use the music again in more of this movie? This is an example of how music can magnify the illustration of a scene and ultimately enhance a story.

This movie left a lot to be desired, but a story as good as the first one needn't have been remade in the first place. I would recommend the 1971 film as a true timeless classic and one of the best sports movies of all time. The remake was just a bad idea that should have never happened.

Somewhere in Time is an interesting, mysterious film, and I must admit I was intrigued by it. This is a romantic love story and the only movie I've seen where someone travels through time without the use of a machine. I really liked the fact that it used mechanical and not special effects. The only minor flaws in the movie are small details and clarity.

Christopher Reeve is very good as the young, very intelligent, well-read, mild-mannered, and sophisticated Chicago playwright named Richard Collier. Reeve is so good that we almost think he is playing himself. The movie begins at the opening of the first play he writes, when an old woman gives him a beautiful gold watch and tells him "Come back to me." We have no idea what this means, until later. Eight years later, to be exact.

This is the point where the movie really begins. In his adult life, Collier is an unhappy, lonely, and unfulfilled man. Seemingly empty and bored, he takes a trip to Mackinac Island to the Grand Hotel. During a visit to the hotel's hall of history, he sees the photograph of a beautiful young woman, an actress named Elise McKenna, which seems to pull him like a magnet. He becomes smitten and obsessed. After researching her life, he sees that she is the same woman who gave him the gold watch. This makes him determined to travel back in time, to 1912 when she performed in a play at the same hotel.

After an exhausting trial and error, he is finally successful in his journey to the past where he meets Elise, played by the beautiful Jane Seymour. They meet, and their chemistry is instantaneous. The only obstacle is her manager, W.F. Robinson, played by Christopher Plummer in a wonderful performance as a very complex antagonist. He seems to misunderstand Collier's intentions and will do everything in his power to keep him from winning Elise over.

Since there is a time loop and some confusion in the beginning of the film, the movie takes some time to sort itself out, and some of the questions are answered by the end of the movie. The only problems the film has are certain questions that are unclear and unanswered. For example: where did the watch come from? Doesn't that one vital item have a beginning? Did Collier really travel back in time, or hypnotize himself into thinking he does? The movie also never really develops the romance between Richard and Elise, so there's no real transparency about what makes them tick. I also could've done without Elise's "Is it you?" line when they first meet. Would any woman really say that to a complete stranger if she wasn't in a movie?

Nevertheless, the movie is fun to watch, and the performances are inordinate. The beautiful Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island is visually magnificent, and the photography and costumes are exquisite. I particularly enjoyed the scenes where Richard listens to a lecture in time travel from a college professor of his (played by 12 Angry Men's George Voskovec), and then successfully completes his time travel odyssey to 1912. Jane Seymour is fantastic as Elise McKenna, and Christopher Plummer is equally convincing as her manager. Susan French, as the older Elise McKenna is physically beautiful for her age and a spot on match of an older Jane Seymour.

Somewhere in Time, released in the fall of 1980, was somewhat similar to The Shawshank Redemption in that it was unsuccessful in the film's theatrical showings, but it later triumphed into a popular classic after its' running on cable television and video sales/rentals. Even though that is the case, I would not call Somewhere in Time a masterpiece, but it is a good, well-crafted movie that is entertaining and interesting. The only disappointment is that with better writing and some more simplicity, it could have been a great movie instead of just a good one with great performances.

I like movies that make me think, not just about contemporary issues, but about ourselves, as human beings. Cheaters is a great movie that does exactly that. The questions it raises are very good ones. Is cheating, even when the deck is stacked against you, wrong, or is it just against the rules? Or as the students in the movie discussed, do two wrongs make a right? Or do two wrongs make it even? Cheaters is a movie about the 1994-95 Steinmetz High School students entering the years academic decathlon, a mammoth competition featuring numerous tests, an interview, and a super quiz. The team that is fielded by their dedicated and respected teacher, Dr Plecki, immediately has three strikes against it: they have no experience, no support from most of the school staff and students, and they're up against the perennial powerhouse and cross-town rival: Whitney Young.

The Academic Decathlon, at least in Chicago and the State of Illinois, isn't really a competition, because Whitney Young has been winning for ten straight years. As Dr Plecki (played fabulously by Jeff Daniels) says "they live, breathe, and eat the decathlon...they recruit for it." So, right away, we know this is definitely a long shot because we know what they're up against. So the title is obviously self-explanatory, of course the only chance they have to win is to cheat.

Although we know this story would have never been told had they not gotten caught cheating, it's not about the destination, it's about the journey. In preparation for the regionals, we see the team really working hard. They fight tooth and nail, but just make it to the state finals, finishing in fifth place. "Jerry, keep it, you didn't know what you were up against" says the Whitney Young coach to Dr Plecki, after both bet money on their teams. We really know these words are heartbreakingly true, and we agree with Dr Plecki when he congratulates the team on a great effort ("I think you guys should be proud of yourselves"). Indeed, the team did very well, considering what they really were up against.

This is the point where things heat up, as one of the students manages to get a copy of the state test, and things really start heating up. Dr Plecki, when he gets the news, encourages the team to use the test to study, if they all agree. When they get to the State competition, using planned tricks, quick and private ways of getting signals, they win with a big improvement in their scores from their regional performance. Whitney Young believes, through suspicion, that they did indeed cheat. The logic being that it is statistically impossible for anyone to have their scores increase that dramatically in only three weeks. We, as an audience who can't help but root for the underdogs, find us hoping they don't get caught and those Whitney Young rich spoiled brats get a dose of their own medicine.

The performances by the teacher and students are fantastic. Jeff Daniels is a very underrated actor and it's refreshing to see him give such a great performance here. He gives the character of Dr Plecki an excellent illustration of anger, confusion, insight, and frustration. The students, especially the one played by Jena Malone (as Jolie Fitch, who, according to the film, helped assemble the team) are just as convincing in their bonding to keep the code of silence. The lawyer for the board of education, who questions them about their cheating in one of the later scenes, said it best: "These kids may be some of the most skilled liars I've ever encountered. They looked me in the eye and lied to me. They scared me."

I will not give away the ending, only that it leads to some very good arguments and the "city gripped by 'Did they or didn't they?' fever." Did Dr Plecki do right? Do you sometimes have to break the rules to change them? Would they have questioned Steinmetz if it were a rich, WASP school, as one of the Steinmetz students points out? These are all questions that the film raises, and leaves for the audience to decide.

The movie doesn't ask anyone to condone cheating, nor does it say that we should condone it. All the movie does is ask the audience to pay attention, and raise questions. It is fair to both sides. I liked the fact that one thing the movie does make clear is: right, wrong, or indifferent, our society is not fair. It doesn't say that the actions of Dr Plecki and the students are okay, but they're understandable due to the circumstances.

I would recommend this film be viewed by all students in their English classes or with their parents. I also believe very strongly that anyone who watches this will be asking themselves questions about the values, morals, and quandaries of today's society. This film is a must see for all students, educators, and parents.

Asperger's syndrome is an impediment, but people can live normal lives with it. If this were the premise of the movie, it would have been much more refreshing. Instead, it seems to be showing us a portrait of people with uncontrolled aspects of the disorder, so grossly exaggerated to the point that these people look like a bunch of freaks, rather than people trying to live with their disorder. That's too bad, because this movie really had an opportunity to reach a lot of people.

I know Aperger's Syndrome, because I have it. Yes, there are some characteristics of the disorder that need to be recognized and toned down. Some of them can be irritating and a turn-off to people. Sometimes the tendencies are unusual intense interest in certain topics, not recognizing when to leave things alone, failing to read body language, taking things too literally, and not noticing things or subjects that people aren't interested in. Okay. Not everyone with it is a person who irritates the heck out of people without Asperger's. I wonder how many of us so-called "aspies," will find this movie to be insulting or even infuriating.

None of the support group scenes in this story work. There is very little discussion about the problems and social difficulties that people with Asperger's have. No talk about behavior modification or improving the lives of the people involved. It looks more like a hangout for social rejects, rather than a support group. For crying out loud, why wouldn't anyone with Asperger's be insulted by a movie like this?

The love story is never really developed, but simply rushed into. We see a physical attraction between these two characters, but no chemistry. There is no real dialog about anything except their disorder, and nothing to convince us that their attraction is any more than physical. Frankly, Josh Hartnett and Radha Mitchell give these two characters better performances than they really deserve. Ron Bass did a wonderful job of writing the screenplay "Rain Man." Did he realize that people with Asperger's are much higher functioning? It didn't seem that way in this movie. So two people with an impediment can fall in love, so what?

When a movie can make you laugh and cry, it's a rare quality. Many people don't have a high tolerance for adults, but are suckers for kids. I am proud to say that I fall into this category, as does Richard Pryor's character Joe Braxton in this film. He plays a foul-mouthed, ill-mannered ex-con, who is, let's face it, a bum. For some reason, though, he is likable. Maybe it's because he still has an optimistic outlook about his life. His biggest strength, which almost proves to be his undoing, is that he is willing to do more for others than he is for himself. This is what I felt made "Bustin' Loose" such a touching movie.

Joe Braxton is a parolee who has been given a second chance to rebuild his life. His only problem is, he can't really seem to find a purpose on the outside, and just doesn't know how to make it. In a hilarious courtroom scene where he is about to be sent back to prison for larceny, in violation of his parole, he is given ten years probation by the judge.

His parole officer, however, is amused, but not at all fooled by the courtroom shenanigans. So, as a favor, his parole officers needs a favor. A group of disadvantaged Philadelphia youths have had their school closed as a result of budget cuts. Cicely Tyson, who portrays her character brilliantly, plays their supervisor who is also the girlfriend of Joe's parole officer. She and the kids need to be driven across country to her family's Washington state farm to start over. Joe is asked to drive the bus and return in 15 days.

This is where the movie takes a wonderful turn for the better and gives some pleasant surprises. It could have been a silly Disney-like movie with cute, fake dialog that cuts corners and makes you want to throw up at the end (like Dead Poet's Society). Instead of all that nonsense and garbage, we heard words of truth, and witness some convincing changes.

At first, Joe sees this as a chore and the kids as nothing but a bunch of losers. Later though, he begins to bond with the kids and discovers, as does the kids, that he actually really does care about them because he doesn't want what happened to him to happen to them. He finds a purpose, and a reason to be happy. He becomes a pleasant, and is actually a warm person after all who just needed the right people to bring out the goodness in him. Perhaps this is because his love for the kids makes him forget about his problems and worry about their well-being.

There are some tough scenes, too. There is boy who has experienced a tragedy, not intentionally, but because of a problem he cannot help. Another one of the youths solicits prostitution to Joe. There are also questions and doubts about whether the kids will be able to keep their new home, or if Joe can actually make it on the outside. All of these scenes show reality and how people find the courage to deal with their own lives. Richard Pryor plays these scenes with a quiet, subtle brilliance. He is not just a funny comedian, he is also a good actor.

The only flaw the movie has is that it seems to lack some little scenes to make Prior's character develop his relationship and bond together with the kids and Cicely Tyson's character. Don't get me wrong, it's usually better to keep an audience wanting more than to drag a movie out, but I think this one may have benefited from more running time. The transition from con to nice guy seemed just a little bit too quick, and I think this could have been the difference between making this a great movie instead of a good one. It's as though the screenwriter didn't sit down and rewrite quite thoroughly enough. That, however, is easily forgiven and forgotten.

I will not give away what happens, I will say only this: I was pleasantly surprised because this movie wasn't just a comedy. There are a lot of serious scenes, too, and the ending is very perceptive about human behavior. Bustin' Loose is not a masterpiece, but it is an entertaining, convincing movie, and it works because of the performances. If you pay attention, you'll be surprised at how moved you are at the end of this delightful comedy, and you might even shed a tear.

How often can any of us find characters that are as real and true to life as the ones in Say Anything? This is a wonderful movie that I just don't know how anyone can not absolutely love when they see it. John Cusack leads the way in a role he was born to play, the humble, loyal, kind, soft, gentile, uncertain, young man with a heart of gold: Lloyd Dobler. He is a likable kick-boxer with no idea about what his future may hold. It's wonderful to see a teenager like this one in a movie give a message that it's okay not to know what you want to do, as long as you go with your heart.

Ione Skye is the sweet, smart, loving, warm, amorous, and don't forget, beautiful, Diane Court, who steals Lloyd's heart. She is the class valedictorian who wins a fellowship to study in England. John Mahoney is equally convincing as a loving, insightful, concerned, but overprotective father, James Court, who will do anything for his daughter, the latter which proves to be his undoing. He runs a nursing home and cares for people, but he has a dark secret that is revealed by the end of the movie.

Lloyd is smitten by the beautiful Diane Court, he wants very badly to take her out. He is somewhat shy, and, as his friend points out, "he has this nervous talking thing." He calls Diane, and his persistence pays off, as she seems to like his wit and tenacity and agrees to go the big graduation party with him.

This is where the movie really begins, and also where we begin to identify with the characters fears, feelings, and pain. Diane is thrilled to finally be a part of the social life she missed out on, yet sad that she kept everybody at a distance. She sees what she could have, and perhaps should have, been a part of. Lloyd is scared and uncertain about the future, with no career plans. Diane's father is feeling threatened that Lloyd will take his only daughter away from him.

Diane begins to fall for Lloyd because she trusts him and feels safe with him (pay close attention to the scene where he drops her off at her house after the all night party). Lloyd admires Diane because he finds her interesting, smart, and beautiful. The only problem is, Diane's father doesn't approve of Lloyd. He has the typical father's reaction: no one is worthy of being with my daughter. What I loved about her father is that he isn't an idiotic parent who can't understand the feelings of his daughter or other teenagers. When Diane and Lloyd spend a night together, and she comes home late without calling, her father is upset and angry, but wise and caring enough to discuss the situation with his daughter.

We later learn a secret about Diane's father, that I will not reveal, after the IRS comes knocking at his door. What made this aspect of the movie so insightful, was that it didn't make us hate Diane's father. It simply portrayed him as a good man who made a mistake. Sometimes good people can do bad things for a good reason. It doesn't make it right, but it makes it understandable. The movie makes that very clear.

Say Anything's biggest strength, though, may be that it gives a subtle message about listening to your instincts. When Diane breaks up with Lloyd after being pressured by her father, we can see that she is going against her feelings. Lloyd seems to know this too, and makes a reference that she is just blindly following her father, and not her heart. This is one of the scenes that makes us fully aware Lloyd's inarticulate side, and how a lot of the time his words are being wrung from his emotions. We feel the pain that both of them are going through.

Lloyd uses every tactic to get Diane back, from playing Peter Gabriel on his boom box outside her bedroom window, to long-winded (and funny) phone machine messages. Eventually, she has a change of heart, and realizes that Lloyd is everything she imagined, and her father is not. I liked when Diane went to defend her father, and an IRS agent she spoke with was kind enough to detach himself from the situation and give her advice. "Don't let your father's business affect your life." He later tells her, very kindly, if not very wisely, "if I were you, I would take that fellowship."

When Lloyd finally wins Diane over, it is one of the film's sweetest moments, and we know that all will be well for this unlikely, wonderful pair. Perhaps the greatest line is spoken by Lloyd, when Diane tells him that nobody ever thought there relationship would work, and nobody gave it a chance, he replies: "You've just described every great success story." I loved that line, because it's the truth, and great writers can say it all with one line.

Say Anything made me laugh, cry, and see what life is really about. It was released in the spring of 1989, the tale end of my high school career. This made me love it all the more because I could identify with teenagers and high school in the 1980's. How can you not love a movie like this? What a gem of a film.

Sometimes, people do the wrong thing, for a good reason. This isn't always right, but it's understandable. I think this is the premise for The Bedroom Window. People are human, and sometimes irrational behavior leads to something that can get more serious than originally anticipated.

That is exactly what happens in this movie. Terry Lambert, played by Steve Guttenberg in what may just be his best performance, is a good man whose judgment isn't always the greatest. Terry is a business executive who makes the unwise decision of having an affair with his boss's wife, a beautiful french woman named Sylvia. One night at his apartment, she witnesses a young man assaulting a female. Obviously, she cannot go forward. Later, after learning of a different female being murdered near the scene that same night, he decides he'll go forward and report that he was the witness. "It's my apartment, my bedroom window," he says in an attempt to justify the dishonesty.

The only problem, which proves to be a damaging blow, is that nothing can be proved about the murder. So, the only chance to convict the assailant is to prosecute on the assault case. The logic being it at least gives the authorities a chance to put the killer away to prevent him from hurting anyone else, while still hoping to find evidence connecting him to the murder. So Terry must testify during the trial that he witnessed the assault. In a brilliant scene, the defendant's attorney carves him up like an overcooked turkey, making it very clear that Terry is lying, but not why.

As the authorities become suspicious of Terry, he begins to bond, through shared experience, with Denise, the woman who was assaulted outside his apartment. She later figures out that Sylvia, and not Terry, saw the murder. "The question isn't What am I going to do? It's what are you going to do? And what is she going to do?," she says harshly and angrily, but not at all incorrectly. They both later discover, at least partially, the killer's motives, and agree that the only way to implicate him, and clear Terry, is to trap him and catch him in the act.

Steve Guttenberg is magnificent as the scared, confused, and conscientious Terry. Elizabeth McGovern and Isabelle Huppert are equally as good as the women who care about him, but are unsure how to figure him out, or what to do. McGovern shows her very good acting ability with non-verbals that demonstrate clearly that she knows something isn't right about Terry through her facial expressions and the looks in her eyes. The cast of this movie work together like a well-oiled machine, and the story may not have been as compelling had it not been for the convincing actors.

This is writing at its best, top notch acting, and filmmaking on a master scale. The movie is so well-made that we love the story, understand the characters and their situations, and just can't wait to see what happens next. This movie is a classic, and also a great thriller. Watch it!

After Image is a movie with a lot of potential, but there is absolutely no clarity in the story whatsoever. John Mellencamp plays Joe McCormack, a photographer who hates his job and quits, but there is no way we understand or even care why or how he got to that point. There is a scene where he throws his camera into the river, with no little scenes building up to that point. No explanation is given for this act, other than a vague response to his Aunt(played by Louise Fletcher), who tells him she thinks he's unhappy. "I'm not unhappy," he says, "To be unhappy you have to care, and I don't care." But why is that?

None of this dialog with his aunt is developed any further, and the only thing that does clarify this is the film's summary on back of the DVD that says that he is "burned out after seeing one too many homicides." Later we see him form a relationship with Laura (played by Terrylene in the film's best performance), but there is very little chemistry, only a connection by the fact that they're both acquainted with Joe's Aunt.

We finally come to the plot (if you call it that) about the killer and the young female victims. We see Laura having visions about the killer and his victims, but how did she get this power? Who is this man? Why is he committing these crimes? What is it the connection between he, Laura and Joe? What in the world is going on here? The story makes no sense and nothing goes together at all. For example Joe's brother Sam, played by Billy Burke, has so little screen time, he is just a distraction. What is he doing in the film?

One scene in particular is a perfect example of the illogical plot and the lack of clarity in the story. For some odd reason, the killer makes a videotape of one of his crimes. It is delivered to Joe with the message "Watch Me." The killer shows his face, and later Joe takes the tape to the police. Miraculously, when he plays the tape for them, there is nothing but static. The film gives no explanation for any of this.

When we get to the ending(which I will not give away), it is neither convincing nor plausible. The killer just happens to show up, spying on Joe, and then the chase begins? Give us a break. With better writing and more clarity, this could have been a great film, with the potential to be even better.

I would recommend that the writers of this movie watch the 1986 thriller, The Bedroom Window, which is as well-written as After Image is badly written. The Bedroom Window was another movie about a male who murders young women, but by the end you know why the events happened, what went on, and why the characters did what they did. This one of those movies where I was hoping to get the answer as to what in the world was going on, in the next scene, and never got it.

On a positive note, Terrylene's performance was splendid, and Mellencamp's was good, too. There were also some good scenes of Rochester, which, hopefully will open some people's eyes who may want to come to Rochester to shoot future films. Movies cannot be entertaining unless the audience either knows what is going or will be able to figure out why or how the events went together by the end of the movie. This one should have been revised by the writers more than once, because the story (or lack thereof) was too cloudy.