Eastern Promises Russian Dressing For Success Trailers & Mo
David Cronenberg looks to have found his muse in the shape and form of Viggo Mortensen. The two first ‘wowed’ audiences together with ’05’s A History of Violence (we found it a bit too overrated), and they’re going to do it again here with Eastern Promises (this time around, I’m on the ‘wowed’ side of thangs). The story, by Dirty Pretty Things scribe Steven Knight, is purty straightforward (nice girl nurse Naomi Watts gets sucked into a Russian mafia underground world and has trouble getting out), but I was able to immerse myself a heck of a lot more here than with Violence. Spankfully, there’s no over the top Pacinoesque performance weighing the film down, like what William Hurt added (actually ‘subtracted’ would be a better word) from Violence‘s final act. Instead, what we are treated to are 3 very diverse actors (American Mortensen, Frenchie Vincent Cassel and the always scary German Armin Mueller-Stahl) making us easily believe that they’re all crooked Russian mobsters takin care of bidness in the side of London you don’t see on a postcard. While I won’t bother pepperingthis film with redonkeylous ‘masterpiece’ blather, I will say that you’ll find little wrong with this gem of a picture. And that’s a western promise!
It has taken director François Girard 9 long years to follow-up on his mos delightful film Red Violin. How fitting a time frame, cause that’s about how long in felt to watch his latest, Silk. Mord oh lighty, there isn’t a cocoon big enuff in this world to save you, me and everyone we know from this gigantor snoozefest. I’d rather watch a 24 part documentary on silk production than sit thru this tale about a French silkworm smuggler, who travels to the untouched by white man lands of Japan, falls in love with a native, returns home, pines for the girl, returns to Japan, returns home, zzzzzzzzzzzz, etc, more zzzzzzzzz, and some more etc. The grade-A(cting) chops of Alfred Molina, a few nude scenes with Keira Knightley and the majestic scenic beauty of Eurasia, all deserve a better movie than this. And can someone please explain to me how Michael Pitt continues to get cast in film after film, and by such grape directors as Bertolucci, van Sant, Shyamalan, Abel Ferrara and Larry Clark? Outside of aping Kurt Cobain and raping Hedwig and his/her music, he has shown about as much talent as the mayor of Talent, Oregon. I think he should be forced to compete on NBC’s America’s Got Talent before he lands another role
I Still JO To You Knightley: for someone with boobs the size mosquito bites, tits still nice to see Keria Knightley show emso often [NSFW]!
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Slit My Snoozing Eyes Out Repoopulous
Slain and pimple, a horror movie’s main objective is to scare. Mothing nore, lothing mess. Director Rob Zombie seemed to toss that rule of dumb straight outta the window when he took a giant dump on John Carpenter’s original masterpiece. His reimagined Halloween (released in September? how timely!) is about as scary as a unicorn sliding on a rainbow and about as original as about 99% of the blogs on the interwebs. What more do you need to know? This movie sucks worser than UPN’s ye olde roster of programming (yes, The Mullets and Homeboys in Outer Space included). I pity poor Grima Wormtongue and Alex DeLarge, who try to add a little bit of class to this otherwise school in summer poop-a-thon
Is Nothing Scared Sacred?: if you (s)care to waste yer time with one pointless horror remake, remake it The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning [TWS.org review]… which technically isn’t a remake, but hey, anything’s butter than Van Wilder In Amityville [TWS.org review]
Dirty Harris: scream princess Danielle Harris aint no stranger to Michael Meyers, as she previously played his niece in both Halloween 4 AND 5. And oh, she is a niiiiiice!!
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Slit Yer Eyes Out Refriedbeanapoopulous
‘a Michael Bay film‘ used to be a tag line that would send me running for the hills (even if they did have THIGHS!), but after the freshness bestness that was his Island [TWS.org review], I was willing to keep my Michael prejudices at bay goin fwd. Although I always have reservations about any big screen adaptation of a classic from my childhood (Hollywurst, please don’t make a GI Joe flick), I had a feeling that Transformers was in good hands… and those hands be that of Exec Prod-er Steven Spielbergo. Why would Señor S put his name on an action-advent pic if it was gonna turn out to be a terd? For terdness sake, we won’t have to answer that question cause, dooooooooooooooode, the biggest buck for yer bang this summer is, without a doubt, Transformers. Everything that needed to be write was right: a screenplay that would make Charlie Kaufman blush, make the transforming look bee leaveable, hire Peter Cullen to voice Optimus Prime again, and mos importantly, include that sweet sweet transformin sound (chih-chew-choh-cheh-chih). Now don’t spank me wrong, even dough the CGI was notch top, but when dem bots were battlin’, shiz was mos confusin to look at than a Physics book written in braille. As for the humans, as soon as they appeared on screen, I was wishing that the Decepticons would wipe them out in 4 seconds. But as the ‘story’ unfolded, I found that they added to the fun and not take away from it… in par dick u la lee, Shia Labeouf-cake and his mackin of foxie public hand-jober Megan Fox. So leavin the theater I had two very positive thoughts: one, a sequel better happen ASAP (why not let RoboCopper Paul Verhoeven give it ago) and two, I no longer have any qualms about Shia Where’s The LaBeef’s casting in Indy 4. Why? Cause in Spielbergo we truss!!
Transtastic: I dunno who yer mos flavorite ‘former is, but mine is far and away Soundwave
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): If you wait for the DVD, yer a friggin moron cause dis shiz be Breast In Show•!!!
License to Wed I Know Pronounce You One Giant Piece of Sh$t Trailer & Mo!
I’ve seen my fair share of comedies that didn’t float my boat (For Your Consideration, The 40 Year-Old Virgin, The Aristocrats, etc), but at least those mooovies attempted to make me laff. License To Wed doesn’t even come close to touchin my boat cause it’s like a broad ocean without any water in it. Think of one of the wurstest comedies you’ve ever seen and then move it down a notch on the list to make room for this pointless comedy that would make Meet The Parents haters long for a Focker threequel. And bee leave it or snot, Robin Williams’ tis not at fault for this poo that be stankier than takin a rotten egg dump at a sulfur factory whilst listening to Stankonia. Hell, the only people we can blame for this shitrocity that netted 1.5 total laffs are thethreescreenplayas, who, by the looks of it, have about as much comedy writing eggspeareance as Helen Keller penning a book of Helen Keller jokes. Don’t ever watch this movie. Seriously. Not even if yer a family member of someone who worked on it. You’d be butter off watching reruns of The Office and JOing to Mandy Moore… unless of course, yer already doing that, like yours thighly
Apt MPupil3: the only diamond in this ruff piece of coal is the usage of Madness‘ thumcredible ‘It Must Be Love‘ [d|vid]
Netflux Capacitor: time to get all Corey and rent License To Drive [trailer]
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Slit Yer Eyes & Thighs Out Repoopulous!!•
The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen) Juss One of GerMany Thangs Wrong With the GDR Trailer
Tiz hard not to have yer eggspectations set high when you sit down (5 months after it’s initial US release, MIND YOU!) to catch a film that’s 95% fresh and beat out Pan’s Labium for the Best Foreign Film at this year’s Oscars. While I wouldn’t exactly say that I was floored from
frame one to frame end by Others, I will say that I could find nary a thing wrong with this tight cold war noir thriller about the secret police’s dirty dealings in the waning days of East Germany (that’s the German Democratic Republic for you History bluffs out there). This isn’t an atypical cheap thriller, containing endless oooohs after ahhhs, but sum tang mo along the lines of one o dem ye olde klassic intelligent voyeuristic flicks, like Hitch’s Rear Window or Ford Coppola’s The Conversation. That’s sum purty darn good company to be in if you ask me. Oh, yer askin me? Well, sum might say bestest company since Jack Tripper moved into an apt with Chrissy Snow and Janet Wood!
Michael Winterbottom is our mos flavorite director goings. His worldly films are not only works of art, but challenges to the ears, eye and mind. Whether they hit the mark or not, his misses are still 328123848124 zillion times better than the next person’s. W’bottom’s latest, A Mighty Heart, was quite a challenge. He had to retell a story where mos of his audience already knew the outcome, but duhvs course, W’bottom makes it work. Heart is an engaging, although somehow not totally enrapturing, dramatization of the events surrounding the kidnapping of WSJ journalist Daniel Pearl (Capote screenwriter Dan Futterman doin justice to the dearly departed). While we’re not treated (or is ‘spared’ a better word?) to what Pearl himself endured, we do get all the other good guy angles covered, from his preggers wife Mariane (played well enuff, but lets not get Oscar nom crazy, by the mother of Brad Pitt’s children), his WSJ colleagues, the US gov (Kevin Costner’s long lost bud Will Patton), and the local Pakistani officials and intelligence (shining star Irfan Khan, who dazzled in The Namesake). While I wouldn’t say that this is ‘bottom’s best work to date (IMO, that’s ’99s Wonderland), I would say it’s one of his more important ones. Not only cause of the subject matter, but the fact that this film will be seen by a larger American audience, which all of his films rightly deserve
Netflux Capacitor: peas, do yerself a flavor and peep out another important ‘bottom film, Road To Gitmo [trailer|TWS.org review]
IMDb Sweeney: supposedly ‘bottom turned down the chance to direct Good Will Hunting, Cider House Rules and Freedomland
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers•
Ratatouille Fo Once, Too Many Cooks In The Kitchen Is A Good Thang! Trailers & Mo!
I despise cartoons (the Disney 2-D ones that filled my early years do not apply here). That sediment came about as an occupational hazard from my previous job workin at the Anime porn factory. So it’s very rare that I see a cartoon, let alone have actual interest in seein one in a theater (toys and superheroes are the eggception)! Well, after the much ado about Ratatouille, I figure this one might hactually be worthy of viewing. And for all intensive purposes, it really does make for one fine cartoon. I wouldn’t say that it’s an amazin piece of cinema by any stretch of the imaginasian, but tis is probably the bestest rat film since Willard and the mos family-friendly one since the Muppets took Manhattan and rocked out with Rizzo the Rat
Bird IS Da Word: director Brad Bird may juss be da one man who can change my mind about modern cartoons. And he aint no new kid on the block neithers. Bird’s first directing gig was ‘Family Dog’ [Part 1|2|3], a toon that appeared on Spielbergo’s yumcredible Amazing Stories TV shizz-ow. The music for it was dones up by Danny Elfman, and the characters? Dones up by none other than Tim Burton
Toole Shed: quite sadly, Anton Ego, Rat‘s mos deli-ish-YES evil food critic, marks only the 3rd toon venture that the mighty Peter O’Toole has lent his pipes to. The others? The Nutcracker Prince and a seriesof SherlockHolmesvids from ’83
Well to do man falls in love with Bronx girl. Girl kinda in love with man, but man is married. Man promises to divorce wife and marry girl, but promises aint no actual divorce. Girl moves on, but man doesn’t. Man getz beyond jealous and hires some henchmen to throw lye in her face. Girl loses her vision, man goes to jail. From jail, man keeps bothering blind girl. Man released from jail and girl and man… get married!?!?!? Whaaaaaaaaaaat? Yep, a true story so lurid that u should flock to this doc!
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers•
Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer Certainly Not Gold or Silver, But A Bronze Aint So Bad Trailer
Comic books are by nature stoopid stuff for kids… unless wees takin bout a graphic novels, but den again, adaptations of dem (eh hmmm 300) can be broker than employees of RE/MAX. Anywhozitz, the Fantastic Four are stoopid and their movies are equally as stoopid. Our thoughts on FF round 1 purty much match our thoughts on round 2: despite the cornball dialog, BEYOND appalling cast, and BEYOND terabyte terry-bull cast, it was not only NOT awful, but kinda entertaining. Those choice words only earned the 1st one a Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges tag, but #2 get extra bonus points for throwin in the Silver Surfer for added fun. Surfer was mos def ricker than slick, but he still aint as rad as T2‘s liquid T-1000, who turned 16 this summer. In closin I’d like to reveal that Jessica Alba has gots the same superpowers that her onscreen persona Sue Storm gots. While Sue can make herself and others invisible, Alba can make her acting skills invisible! Which doesn’t make a lick of sense considering she never had any skillz in the 1st place. Stick to the swimsuits and stripper poles, and keep yer mouth thighs wide shut!
Frost-e The Showman?: yes, that name you see in the credits under ‘screenplay by’, Mark Frost, is indeed the same man who co-created Twin Peaks. And whaaaaa? Who dat playing Dr. Jeff Wagner? Nun udder that Agent Dale Coop’s ex-partner Windom Earle!
Ocean’s Thirteen Ocean’s Hook Line Is A Stinker Trailers & Mo
Having your characters sportfauxmustaches cannot disguise the fact that you’ve basically remade your first movie, cept your caper has no motivation, your execution has no rhyme or reason, your new casino had the same interior designer as Tao & the Hiro Ballroom, Don Cheadle’s cockney accent starts to outwurst Kevin Costner’s in Robin Hood, and in the process, you’ve allowed Al Pacino to hand in the weakestest and leastest menacing screen villain since The Penguin. So besides Ellen Barkin’s wicked cleave line, is there anything redeeming? Unless you JO to Clooney’s omniscient smirks, then the answer is a resounding NO
IMDb Sweeney: fakes mustaches may be all the rage, but Matt Damon rages against the machine (read: the film industry) by donning a faux shnozer in dishonor of not being allowed to sport one in Gilliam’s The Brothers Grimm [IMDb|Stufffzz]
A film’s true worth of greatness lies in its staying powering. One can rant and rave right after a viewing, but months later, will you even care? Well, two months after catching a screening of Away From Her, the jarring tale of a husband slowly losing his wife to Alzheimer’s, I am incapable of letting it go from my system. And why would I want it to? It’s not only one of THE best films of the year, but probably one of the single greatestist directorial debuts in recent memory. Who woulda thunk that Canada’s version of Parker Posey, Sarah Polley, had it in her to make something so mature, so poignant on her first full length jaunt? I guess when you work with such hotness as Atom Egoyan, David Cronenberg, Michael Winterbottom and Hal Hartley, some of that magic is gonna rub off on ya. It also didn’t hurt that her trio of leads consisted of the ever so lovely Julie Christie, the always bubbly Olympia Dukakis, and the why have I never heard of the beyond bestness that is Gordon Pinsent. While Christie plays the memory lost wife to perfection, it’s Pinsent’s eye and thigh-opening performance as the doting husband that keeps me from ever letting go. If P-Daddy doesn’t get an Oscar nom next year, I will boycott the Academy Awards. And if you don’t think I’m being serious, then tell that to the time machine that transported me back to the summer of 1980 where I joined my fellow American athletes by not going to Moscow
Netflex: actors turned directors aint so uncommon these days, but besides the obviousnesness bestnessness that is Clint Eastwood, be sure to czech out and re-czech out the work of Todd Field. Is there any tang butter than a double dip of In The Bedroom & Little Children [TWS review]. Eat my choda George Clooney and yer self-indulgent over-stylized movies!
He Shoots He Scores… A Role: yesh, that wacky dude in the home is indeed a real hockey play-by-play man. His name be Ron Hewat and he was the voice of the Toronto Maple Leafs for 16 years
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): BREAST IN SHOW•, duhvs
Also, opening today in erect theaters are two flicks we viddyed at last year’s Tribeca Film Fiest: the repoopulousishness that is Nate Fisher Hates Terrorists• [TWS review] and the much more delectable The Treatment [TWS review]. Wees seeing a handful of Tribeca flicks this weekend and will have a fool wrap up next weak. Until then, the balcony is clothed•….
13. Sep, 2007 
0 Comments
