Red7Eric

If you like the jargon and swagger of "Guys & Dolls," you should enjoy "Bloodhounds of Broadway," another collection of Damon Runyon stories pieces together to make an ensemble film, without quite as much music. This one unfolds much like a three-act play. The first act takes place during the day on December 31, 1928. The second rings in the New Year and the third shows our characters meeting their (mostly) happy endings the next morning. The fact that 1929 will not be universally kind to all of them adds a bittersweet note to the final frames. Madonna has a small role, and it's not her finest performance, but saddled with the clichéd "showgirl with a heart of gold" character, she does well, and her final moments with co-star Randy Quaid are charming. Quaid himself gives a marvelous performance, as does Julie Hagerty as a "society dame" who'd rather be a gun moll, and Rutger Hauer as a dying gangster in an effective and underplayed morality story.

I loved this movie. Johnny Depp was a wonderful J.M. Barrie. If his performance hadn't been so genuine and heartfelt, he'd be receiving lots of kudos for his mastery of the Scottish accent -- but a real emotional performance always overshadows technical skill. Kate Winslet was also fantastic, as Barrie's platonic friend and mother to four orphaned boys.

Radha Mitchell and Julie Christie has less to do in fairly one-dimensional roles, but both are able to surprise you in their respective final scenes of the picture.

But it's the final-final scene that will slay you. Without "giving it away," I'll simply say this: If you don't cry at the end of this movie, you're not human. Either that, or you've had your tear ducts surgically removed.

I was immovable during the final scene of "Finding Neverland," rendered helpless and unable to get up from my seat until I had composed myself after the final credits had finished rolling.

Definitely see this film. But bring a tissue. Or three.

Anyone who enjoys the catty, female-driven movies of old (All About Eve, The Women, et. al.) and bemoans the idea that they don't make 'em like they used to should see "Being Julia." Annette Bening is at her best when she's *not* playing saints, and while Julia isn't nearly as awful as the roles she played in "The Grifters" or "American Beauty," she's wicked enough to delight throughout (and vulnerable enough to garner sympathy).

Most of the reviews and award nominations associated with this film will likely heap loads of praise on Annette Bening and little else. She is in nearly every scene, so it's hard to separate her performance from anything else -- and while she is brilliant; the story, direction, costumes, cinematography, art direction, and supporting performances are equally worthy of praise.

Every once in a while, they make one like they used to.

"You got your Christ on?"

(Possible spoilers ahead)

This movie made me howl with laughter. Tears were literally streaming down my face. In the interest of fair and accurate reporting, I was in a full theatre, and my friend and I seemed to be the only ones getting the jokes (or the only ones not the least bit offended by them) -- so perhaps this movie isn't for everyone.

What I enjoyed most was obviously the humor. What I APPRECIATED most was how balanced it was. Yes, the most likeable characters (Roland and Cassandra) were not Christian (agnostic and Jewish, respectively). But characters like Patrick and Mary (and even Dean) WERE, and they kept hold of their faith throughout. The movie wasn't an attack on Christians or Christian education, but rather an attack on Christian hypocrisy. Patrick, Mary, and Dean eventually learn how to believe AND treat people well, while Hilary Faye and Pastor Skip still have a ways to go on that score when the film ends. To me, the message wasn't: Christian people are bad -- only the ones who do mean things and use God to justify their anti-social behavior... and while the film certainly doesn't strive to be political, I couldn't help thinking, "George W. Bush, anyone?"

A movie that makes me convulse with laughter and then gives my friends and I something to talk about on the ride home -- you can't ask for much more than that ...

If you rent "21 Grams" (and I think you should), know that it won't make any sense at all until about 40 minutes into the film (a half hour if you're really sharp). Don't worry about it -- just watch the scenes as they unfold, and wait for it all to crystallize. Theatre plays have been bopping around chronologically for some time. "Pulp Fiction" was the first mainstream film that I ever saw that was presented out of chronological sequence -- but "21 Grams" takes the practice to a whole new level. And yet... if you give it enough time ... it all works. It's a gritty story that gets really ugly at times. Naomi Watts and Benecio Del Toro were nominated for Oscars for more-than-deserving performances. Sean Penn won an Oscar in 2004 for "Mystic River" but probably should have won it for this movie instead. Melissa Leo gives an expert performance as Del Toro's wife (in a perfect world, she would have been nominated as well); Charlotte Gainsbourg is slightly less effective as Penn's wife, partly because the character and her motivations are so inscrutable. Clea DuVall ("Carnivale") and Tony-Award winner Denis O'Hare ("Take Me Out") have small, supporting roles.

I rented "Pieces of April" after Patricia Clarkson was nominated for an Oscar for her role in this movie, as a terminally ill mother traveling to New York City to celebrate Thanksgiving with her troubled, estranged daughter. This movie proves that you can make a comedy about anything -- even that. "Pieces of April" is essentially two movies happening simultaneously. One movie is about April (Katie Holmes) and Bobby (Derek Luke), an interracial pair of lovebirds preparing a Thanksgiving dinner for her estranged family in the Lower East Side, with the assistance of just about everyone in their apartment building. The other movie is about the family (Oliver Platt, Patricia Clarkson, Alison Pill, Alice Drummond, and John Gallagher Jr.) as they travel from suburbia (Connecticut? New Jersey?) to the city, all the while doubting the wisdom and necessity of such a trip, never saying but always knowing that this is likely to be Mom's last Thanksgiving. The only false note in the entire film is that a bad dye job wasn't enough to convince me that Katie Holmes was anyone's monster child. She has such a sweet, vulnerable face that it was hard to believe that this was the girl that her mother feared so much. But the movie has so many strong points (beautiful performances, a spare script that says volumes with minimal dialogue and/or silence, and a great menagerie of characters you've never seen in the same movie before). If nothing else, Patricia Clarkson's acerbic mother is more than worth the price of a rental.

It seems that all of the "gay" dramas created in the 80s and 90s focused on either coming out or AIDS, to the point where gay audiences have seen way too many of these films and are more than ready for something else: would a romantic comedy be too much to ask? A crime caper? Anything??!! However... even if this is your mindset, "Andre's Mother" is worth your time. AIDS is a significant subplot, but the heart of the film is the rocky relationship between Andre's conservative mother and his lover, Cal. Andre himself is never seen; as such, he achieves an almost saintly presence in the film -- everyone seems to adore him. But in this movie, it works. All that Andre's mother and Andre's lover have in common is their unconditional love for the same man. The central question of the film is: is that enough? The performances are stellar and the writing is both spare and profound. Is this film availble to buy or rent? I'm not sure, but ... if you can, you should.

"Victim" is probably the first mainstream film on either side of the Atlantic to feature a gay hero. Granted, Dirk Bogarde plays a married closet case who hasn't actually engaged in a homosexual act in many years. Nonetheless, it's fairly amazing that, given what we know about attitudes toward gay people in the 1950's that a film this affirming of gay rights could have been made in 1961. It's a movie that's much more about "gay" as an identity than it is about sexuality; it centers on a blackmail ring that includes our closeted hero, a star of the London theatre, a lonely old barber, a Rolls-Royce salesman, and others. As a group, the gay men are intermittently desperate, proud, accepting, self-loathing, and scared -- which said more to me about 1961 than it said about gay men. The title is interesting to me; it seems that the journey of Bogarde's character seems to be the road out of victimization and toward (if this isn't too corny) self-actualization. It's a mildly entertaining movie, but a fascinating historical artifact.

"X2" is a great action movie sequel (with a brain) that easily surpasses Part One.

What makes the movie such a treat (for me) is all of the sociopolitical commentary it makes with regard to diversity issues. The "mutant experimentation" in the film is eerily reminiscent of what you might see at the Holocaust Museum, and when Bobby Drake (Iceman) tells his unknowing parents of his mutation, it's a "coming out" scene that any gay or lesbian audience member can identify with.

Yes, the movie kicks ass -- but at its heart, it's a plea for tolerance in disguise as an action movie. Five stars.

I saw this last night, and just loved it. For those who require neat and clean stories with a single throughline, you might not enjoy it -- this film is more like a play by Chekhov than your usual summer movie fare.

But like Chekhov, it gets you to care about it's myriad characters even if it never quite approves of them. Gwyneth Paltrow, Phoebe Cates, Mina Badie, Michael Panes, Jane Adams, Jennifer Beals, John Benjamin Hickey, John C. Reilly, and Cumming & Leigh themselves are all fantastic. And some of the one-liners are priceless.

Granted, my tastes are a bit left of center, but this movie is my favorite (so far) of 2001 -- possibly the best movie I've seen since You Can Count On Me.

This was a great film; obviously a different film than the one that most of the critics saw. Yes, it was very similar to Titanic in terms of scale, theme, and structure, but I felt that this was the superior film. The performances aren't subtle, but they evoke the era beautifully. When the inevitable assault begins, you know the kind of people that populated the 1940's because of the work that Affleck, Gooding, Baldwin, Hartnett, King, and Beckinsale have done. I'm sure that all of the flyboys and Navy nurses who served in Hawaii in 1941 were not as impossibly gorgeous as Ben Affleck, Kate Beckinsale, and Josh Hartnett -- but at some point, you gotta lighten up; it's only a movie.

Was there ever a less appropriate title? For those truly seeking mirth, this is the wrong movie for you; I've never seen anything so bleak. Gillian Anderson is wonderful, but was I the only one in the theatre who didn't think that the run-down boarding house didn't look so bad, or didn't weep at the thought of a privileged society girl actually having to get up in the morning and go to work?

It's hard to tell the "rich" from the "poor" in this movie; Lawrence and Lily feel on the fringes, but they wear clothes as beautiful as their "betters," and they all end up in Monte Carlo at the most opportune times... if you can overcome the cynicism of the above statement, this film really is very powerful, beautifully acted, sumptuous to look at, and quite moving. Why no Oscar nominations, particularly for Ms. Anderson?

Cameron Crowe is a genius of subtlety. This isn't a movie that will dazzle you as you watch, but will stay with you for a long, long time. Kate Hudson was lovely, and Frances McDormand ... sublime as usual. Billy Crudup gives an earnest, moving performance as well ... but the big surprise is Mr. Fugit, who never, ever seems to be ACTING. Fairuza Balk's monologue towards the end about the 'new girls' had me in stitches, but balanced by Kate Hudson's modest-but-it'll-creep-up-on-you performance, the overall effect is melancholy, nostalgiac, haunting, charming, and lonely. This is an amazing film.

Being a big fan of the book, I was avoiding this film for a LONG time. The first half hour of the film would lead a fan of Hawthorne to conclude that the screenwriter had never even READ the original novel.

However, the screenwriter in this instance simply wanted to spend the first 30 minutes dramatizing the 'back story' that Hawthorne only alludes to in the book. Jaffrey and Clifford are now brothers, not cousins. Clifford and Hepzibah are now lovers, not siblings ... and the details surrounding the murder of Clifford's father (his uncle in the book) are slightly different, but the movie is only 90 minutes long, and the film simplifies the plotline without erasing the POINT.

Some of the acting (Margaret Lindsay as Hepzibah, for example) is so brilliant, it makes you want to cry. The scenes that depict Phoebe's arrival to Seven Gables (Chapter 2 in the book, almost halfway through the film) are incredibly well acted. Other moments in the film are so badly and broadly acted, it's laughable. At the scene of the first murder, the camera actually does a quick pan to Margaret Lindsay in the doorway, biting her knuckle. Oy gevalt.

As is usual, reading the book is more of a challenge (not everyone enjoys Hawthorne's prose), but ultimately a MUCH richer experience. For a product of its time, however ... the film does itself justice.

Haley Joel Osment should be nominated for an Academy Award for his performance, and not in the "Supporting" category either. He carried this film on his little shoulders, and was amazingly effective.

Bruce Willis was also amazing. Tender and sweet, a complete turnaround from his trademark smart-ass. I would imagine that being the father of three in "real life" gave him some insight to this role; I don't know that we would have seen this from him ten years ago.

In a supporting role, Toni Collette was also terrific. Donnie Wahlberg is unrecognizable as the mixed-up grown-up former patient in his underwear with a gun (don't ask).

And yes, the ending, the ending, the ending. It changes everything you've seen before, and actually makes a good movie better by adding a layer you didn't even know was there. A lot of the dialogue was a tad pedestrian, but the writer/director deserves a lot of credit for sticking to his vision. Sometimes it is about artistry after all, even when making a "horror" movie.

Claire Danes was wonderful, Kate Beckinsale was great, Bill Pullman should have been on screen more, Lou Diamond Phillips was annoying as an American diplomat working for the DEA.

The screenwriter apparently did a lot of research about the Thai legal system, and everything in this film can and does happen, according to the PR. Still, I couldn't help feeling as though the experience had somehow been prettified for a teenage audience. The image of Claire Danes lounging in the sunlight with a roach clip in hand somehow doesn't seem like torture to me.

Still, I was surprised by the ending, and am looking forward to more, better performances by Danes and Beckinsale in the future.

Knowing that this film was created by the man responsible for Home Alone, I wasn't really expecting much. As it is, I think I started weeping about halfway through, stopped a bit when the whole "snowblowing" thing happened, started again when Julia told the wedding story, and kept right on going until the end. About ten Kleenex in all. Yikes, what a sad, sad movie. Not depressing, but sad. If you like a real weepie, this is the flick for you. I was amazed. And have discovered that I really like Julia Roberts a whole heck of a lot -- every once in a while, the "mainstream" actually picks a winner.

Yes, the book is better. MUCH better. But Glenn Close's work as Ferula is amazing. She's a brilliant actress, and this is some of her best work. Unfortunately, the scope of the novel would never easily fit into a two or three-hour film. I wish that Masterpiece Theatre had received the chance to do one of their six-hour treatments; it might have been more successful.

...so I can put myself out of my misery right now. This is the most bleak, depressing movie I have ever seen. A completely joyless experience. What I wanted to see was a detective story about the pursuit of a shocking series of murders...what I got was an overwritten, pretentious philosophical treatise on the nature of good and evil, with no detective work whatsoever. In almost every scene, there were table lamps that only lit the square inch that surrounded the bulbs; it never stopped p***ing down rain, and everything was cold and dark to the point where you couldn't see what in the Sam Hill was going on. Okay, I get the point already! Yeesh. Bleach. Terrible.

I studied both "Three Sisters" and "The Cherry Orchard" in college, and thought that Chekhov must have written the most boring plays ever put to page. I reluctantly saw this film because I figured that nothing with Julianne Moore could be unwatchable. I was right about Julianne -- she's amazing in this film...but I was completely wrong about Anton Chekhov. You must see his work performed (by actors who know what to do with him) in order to appreciate his comedy and his understanding of human psychology and complexity. I have since become a fan of all of Chekhov's major works -- including "Three Sisters" and "The Cherry Orchard."

Larry Pine, Brooke Smith, and George Gaynes are also wonderful in this film.

If you are one of those people who don't think that Juliette Lewis can act, then this is the one film that you should watch if there is any hope of changing your mind. Her character is sort of dim-witted, but Juliette brings her to life with a very powerful, subtle, psychologically complex performance. She's the best thing about this movie, which, aside from her, is a fairly predictable, completely unbelievable attempt at your standard serial killer on the road horror flick. Pitt is okay. Duchovny is warming up for the X-Files. Forbes is gorgeous, but under-used. Juliette Lewis is flat-out amazing.

The best thing about Todd Solondz's new "comedy" (I put this in quotes, because while I loved the film, it didn't make me laugh nearly as often as some of the other patrons in the theatre on the night that I saw it) isn't that it's about pedophilia, obscene phone calls, pre-pubescent impotence (don't ask) or post-coital murder. The best thing about this film is that it doesn't MORALIZE. As a responsible member of society, I KNOW that pedophilia is wrong; I don't need to be TOLD. Todd Solondz has done something very courageous: he has dared to enter the minds of the pedophile, the obscene caller, and the miserable loser, to show me what life looks like from their vantage point. Be warned that it's not pretty, but it is provocative, unsettling, and brilliant.

One of the worst movies ever made. My friends and I walked out after an hour, so maybe it got better...but I doubt it. The humor is stupid and banal, but I knew that going in. What I didn't know is that no one in the cast would have any sense of comic timing, the production values would be close to nil, and that I wouldn't laugh. Ever.

The story idea (taking a sweet Mormon kid from Utah and throwing him in the middle of the porn industry) could have turned into a really funny movie, but the script is dull and the performances are duller. This isn't even worth a rental. Bleah.

Helen Hunt is brilliant in this movie. As good as Judi Dench and Helena Bonham Carter were in their Oscar-nominated roles of 1997, Hunt was every inch their equal. Her role was by far the most difficult of the film.

Nicholson basically just played himself, and did a few obsessive-compulsive tics every now and again for variety. If you're a fan of his, you've seen this before.

Greg Kinnear did an okay job, but his character was largely ignored by the screenwriters -- I never felt as though I were allowed inside his mind the way I was allowed inside the mind of Hunt's character. The only way we even know that his character is gay is because everyone keeps talking about how "gay" he is -- it's a character trait written in to annoy Nicholson's character; he could have been a saintly Jew or a saintly black man. The fact that he's a saintly gay person is largely inconsequential.

But...Hunt's performance is easily worth the price of the rental. The movie gets two stars; Helen Hunt gets four.

I was drawn to this film because of its "gimmick" -- the idea that the entire film takes place in real time and was filmed in only eight takes -- 80 minutes of one long shot after another. Once I began viewing the film, however, I forgot about the gimmick. The acting, plot-line, and dialogue are all good enough that they could have survived without the gimmick, which really does nothing to add or detract from the film in any way. By today's standards, some of the dialogue might seem a bit overblown, and some of the performances a little hammy, but considering that the film comes from the late '40's, I enjoyed it. I actually think that it could have been scarier if Hitchcock had allowed himself to play around with close-ups and points of view. I have a feeling that he went with one long shot after another only to prove the fact that he's a genius and could do anything he wanted to. That "Rope" is still a suspenseful, engaging film despite the unusually long takes is proof enough of that.