paulinetola

I wanted to like "House of D", I really did. I've never been a huge DD fan, but I did love the "X-Files", but this is not a movie for XF fans, just DD fans.

It tries too hard, coming off as forced and contrived. Williams seems to be in it just to get a big name on the poster, while his character is, as usual, Robin Williams being cute.

"House of D" is pretentious and ultimately a minor waste of time, but I guess it could have been a lot worse (though I believe it should have been a lot better).

I can't recommend this to anybody who doesn't already have framed pictures of Duchovny on their desk at the office.

Catch it when it hits the small screen if you can, but don't pay money to see it.

Sigh. Hollywood. Anything for a buck.

Just when I thought Eminem couldn't possibly get any more ridiculous than he already is, along comes '8 Mile'. When will skinny little kids finally learn that tatoos and a foul mouth won't stop the big kids from shoving their faces in their school lunch? But then I guess so long as people keep handing this talentless little twerp cash, other talentless little twerps shall continue to emulate him, and, Ye Gods, force the rest of us to endure self-indulgent vanity-flicks such as this retarded piece of drivel.

If you think Eminem is really, really tough, you'll probably like this movie, and should see it as soon as possible. Just don't be surprised when grown-ups giggle behind your back...

I'm not saying that this is a *terrible* film -- it's just not anywhere near as good as the critics would have you believe.

The fact is that this is a mediocre and amateurish little film but whenever non-professional actors are utilized - especially those of an ethnic minority of some kind - critics indulge in rapturous hyperbole. And the more they idiotically rave, the harsher the scrutiny from the likes of myself.

Amateurish acting aside, the writing is sometimes silly and overwrought, like the angst-ridden poetry from an adolescent's diary. However, some of the scenery is lovely, which is what we've come to expect of films from New Zealand (such as 'Lord of the Rings'), and I've certainly endured less interesting stories (such as 'Lord of the Rings'...), and it's unlikely to offend your granny, but this is a 4-out-of-10 for me, at best.

A continuity person's nightmare! And is this Joe Pantoliano at his finest? Could be. But such a shame about Guy Pearce: no charisma, no screen presence, and his American accent slipped often enough to become annoying and distracting. How he continues to land leading roles is a mystery to me. I'd give this a well-deserved 7 out of 10.

Only Russell Crowe's truly ghastly performance prevents this movie from being a genuine classic. Why must Hollywood voluntarily afflict itself with such idiotic casting decisions? America has more aspiring actors than most other nations have citizens, yet she continues to utilize foreign actors in roles wholly unsuited to their abilities. It is the modern equivalent of Black Face.

To see the rare dynamism displayed here by Pacino being absorbed by the sodden lump of old lard that is Crowe's embarrassing performance is nothing short of tragic. My Latvian third cousin could have nailed the accent better than Crowe has.

This movie is good - even great - but it's not a classic, and the fault is entirely Russell Crowe's, and somebody's brain-dead idea of a novel marketing gimmick.

A criminal waste of film stock. At least some bad movies are worth viewing, simply because they are perversely entertainingly, usually unintentionally, but this is most definitely not one of them. How anybody could be induced, even at gunpoint, to release this...thing...is quite beyond comprehension. Merely wishing a film to be great art won't necessarily make it so, and this one isn't even bad art; it's not art at all. Avoid.

I avoided this movie for a long time, assuming it to be just another Patrick Swayze-'Roadhouse'-type "chick-flick": you know, where a bunch of pretty boys with greased chests preen and posture, until the prettiest of them all finally wins the heart of the poor, threatened damsel.

Could I possibly have been any more wrong?

This is one of the finest examples of intelligent film-making I have ever seen, as well as the most compelling piece of storytelling I can think of.

The cast shine brightly, especially Edward Norton, who turns in a near-flawless performance; and what a shock to discover that Brad Pitt *can* act, after-all!

Visually beautiful, expertly crafted sound, with a splendid overall ambiance as a result.

From a narrative perspective, the plot 'twist' is interesting, but I feel it is of lesser importance than the message which, paradoxically, should repel me the most - that the current generation of western men have been socially and emotionally emasculated by a cartel of too-powerful and domineering women, and unjust laws and privileges bestowed upon females by a society petrified of being branded Politically Incorrect.

As a woman, I naturally and instinctively object to such ideas, but as an honest and intelligent person, not yet fully blinded by propaganda and femmo-Nazi mind-control methods, I have to regretfully concede some truth to it. Men ain't what they used to be.

And whilst I don't miss the "women as chattels" mentality of days of yore, nor the old tendency of authority to turn a blind-eye to the likes of domestic abuse, I can't help but think of the words to a particularly apt song: "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone"?

'Fight Club' gives me some hope that perhaps, somewhere out there, men are thinking about being men again. As a woman, I welcome the concept.

'Fight Club' should be viewed, not just as a superlative piece of film-making, nor as a brutal and bloody piece of entertainment, but as a clarion call to all people to discard the fear of the accountants and managers, and learn to be independent individuals once more.

10 out of 10. Period.

A dull, humorless film version of a dull, humorless book, penned by a dull, humorless author. Technically it's proficient, but many others look better. Artistically it's pedestrian at best. The laughable, unintentional campness of pretty-much everybody soon loses its novelty value, and becomes immensely irritating, particularly in view of the epic length of this film.

I've seen much worse than this, and the makers have obviously struggled valiantly with material of such limited potential (poor Peter Jackson must have known what he'd be in for if he dared deviate from The Book and make the story more interesting), but this is no more than good. It's certainly not great, by any definition of the word. Let's all just get over it and move on.

Others have said much of that which I'd like to state, and with more grace. Therefore, all I'll add is that this is the perfect vehicle for an actor such as Sam Neil: other movies have tended to accentuate his at-best modest talent, but here he is charming. Still dull, dry and wooden as ever, but this time we don't care, since - for once - he's supposed to be! Quite charming.

And Patrick Warburton is wonderful as the big, uptight yank. An under-appreciated actor of great comic abilities - his timing surpasses most of the more renowned crop of current comedians - it was nice to see him at work again. In a just world, his side-splitting performance as 'Kronk' in 'The Emperor's New Groove' should have boosted his career prospects to stratospheric new heights. Naturally, we are still waiting...

I can't recommend 'The Dish' highly enough, especially to fans of the gentle-but-never-dull school of comedy.

I won't bother trying to list all of this movie's ridiculous elements, since they are too many. Suffice to say that the whole damn thing is idiotic.

Perhaps the worst thing of all is how anybody who calls themselves a filmmaker could lose the one genuinely interesting part of this movie - the whole Bletchley Park code-breaking operation - amidst what is basically a 3rd-rate Harlequin romance novel.

To take one of humanity's greatest thinkers, Alan Turing, and give us Dougray Scott's Tom Jericho character goes far beyond a mere insult - both to Turing and the viewer.

Kate Winslett does a cheap Rachel Weisz impression (a la "The Mummy"), while everybody else appears to believe they're standing upon a stage in the West End. When I want to see this much ham, I'll visit a pig farm, thanks.

The ludicrous action sequences were about as thrilling and suspenseful as a school play. Why couldn't the makers of this film see that the pivotal work of the cryptanalysts was far more interesting than any amount of hunted-men-leaping-from-trains type foolishness?

Avoid. At all costs.