Reviews

The other review posted here, which flames this episode, is based on a version of this episode posted on YouTube that, for some reason, lost all of its voiceovers. The original version of this episode featured extensive details and is absolutely fascinating.

Alan Alda leads us through different parts of Italy and different areas of then-cutting edge scientific endeavors underway. We begin in Pisa, with the story of the Leaning Tower and the efforts being done (at that time) to prevent it from falling over. We then go to Abruzzo to learn about conservation efforts for the native brown bear of that region. From there we move to Rome and watch what was then the early days of remote robotic surgery, as a surgeon in Rome performs a procedure on a mannequin in Milan. My personal favorite segment looks at Pompeii, and the contemporary efforts to protect the population around the Bay of Naples from the threat of a future eruption of Vesuvius, drawing on experiences in dealing with the eruption of Mt. Etna in Sicily in the early 1990s. The final segment includes some great history for anyone who's ever visited Florence, looking at the story of the machines that Filippo Brunelleschi developed to help him build the famous dome of the Florence Cathedral.

Samuel Shem's novel "The House of God" is a classic in the world of medicine, a must-read for all new doctors, a biting satire that is hilarious and horrifying, highlighting in very stark terms how dehumanizing medical training can be, both for the patients and the doctors themselves. It is a work of sheer brilliance.

The movie version is none of those things.

It is never easy to adapt a novel into a movie, especially when the novel itself is a classic. However, the filmmakers here did not even try. Instead of a story, what we have here is a disjointed series of events with no connecting threads. This movie doesn't tell a story at all. It references a few key scenes from the novel to show that it was really based on it, but then throws in many, many new scenes that do nothing to contribute to the story or the richness of the film's message.

The message of the novel is entirely lost in this film, there is not even a single moment worth laughing with or laughing at, and there isn't even a story here worth following.

There could not possibly be a starker contrast between the ingenuity of the original novel and the sheer banality of this film. It is truly awful.

Every now and then, a movie comes along that manages to epitomize every single stereotype about its genre. For instance, "Commando" managed to epitomize a typical Arnold Schwarzenegger action movie. "Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge" epitomizes modern Bollywood.

The story, the characters, the choreography, the music, even the fight scenes are all very stereotypically Bollywood. The story is long, predictable, and melodramatic. Most of the characters are one-dimensional. Those that aren't are given "depth" in typical Bollywood fashion, i.e., by having them behave completely opposite in the last act of the film than they did in the first act. The scenes in India, London, and Switzerland are all beautifully filmed -- so beautifully, in fact, that they live up to the Bollywood stereotype of having bright, colorful, over-the-top locations for each of the song-and-dance numbers, and continue to reinforce Bollywood's love affair with Europe and European culture. The music is constant, pleasant, quite melodic, quite thematic, and always somehow upbeat, with heavy use of strings, the sitar, and the piano. The fight scenes are incredibly bad, again in true Bollywood fashion. The only thing missing is the requisite courtroom scene.

And yet, in spite of all of this -- or, perhaps, because of it -- there is no doubt that "Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge" is an incredibly charming film. It makes for good escapist fun with incredible camp value, while also having enough genuinely good material (i.e., its songs) to make the movie into a bona fide classic instead of just a camp classic. There is a reason why this film persistently makes it onto critics' "must-see" lists of Bollywood movies. It is not because this film represents the finest of Indian art cinema. This is no "Mother India" by any means. Rather, this film represents Bollywood (i.e., Hindi-language commercial cinema) in top form. For those who were uninitiated with Bollywood films, this makes an excellent initiation film.

You will not walk away from "Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge" feeling inspired or moved. You will, however, walk away from it with a smile on your face. As silly as what you just saw was, there was something enjoyable about it.

Well-respected rich guy is also a crime lord. He gets his goons to orchestrate a diamond heist, in which he gets double-crossed. As a result, bodies stack up, the diamonds are missing (and hidden in the titular Mumbai horse carriage Victoria No. 203), an innocent man is in jail for a crime he didn't commit, and now his daughter has to fend for herself. Oh, yeah, and there's tension between the rich guy and his son, and then his son meets the daughter of the innocent man...

All sounds very typical, right? All sounds cliché and predictable, right? So why am I rating this move 8/10? Quite simply, this movie belongs to Ashok Kumar and Pran. If there's one thing that none of the characters in this film predict, it's that they would have to deal with the fast-talking fresh-out-of-jail bumbling old crooks Raja and Rana. Pran's Rana, who is funny in his own right, plays the straight man to Ashok Kumar's Raja, a perpetually drunk skirt-chasing buffoon, and these two make up perhaps my favorite comedic duo in all of Bollywood history. (I have actually come to refer to any hilarious comedic duo as "Raja and Rana".) When these two get thrown into the mix, this standard thriller plot suddenly takes a dramatic turn and sheer hilarity ensues.

This movie simply could not have worked without Raja and Rana and I don't think Raja and Rana could have worked if they hadn't been cast properly. This is especially true for Raja, as he is played by Ashok Kumar, an actor known for playing wise grandfatherly figures or strong authority figures (think Judge Badri Prasad in "Kanoon"). For him to play Raja, who goes chasing after women half his age and looks utterly ridiculous doing so, is a complete inversion of expectations, and that is exactly what is needed in solid comedy. And, here he is paired up with Rana, known in Bollywood for playing cheesy villains (not to mention the wise and elderly Malan-chaha from Manoj Kumar's classic "Upkar"). The duo's antics and especially their fast-paced dialogue (not to mention their classic musical number "Do Bichare Bina Sahare") bring a smile to my face just remembering them.

Raja and Rana are still supporting characters in this story, with the plot being driven by Navin Nischol as Kumar, the rich villain's good-guy son, Saira Banu as Rekha, the daughter-turned-carriage-driver, and Anwar Hussain as Durgadas, the rich villain. These performances would be considered weak for a thriller, but they are perfect for a comic thriller (or, perhaps, a comedy-masquerading-as-a-thriller) like this movie.

You don't watch this movie for the plot or for a thrill. You watch it because you get to see two of Bollywood's most serious actors do a complete inversion and become geniuses of comedy.

"Batman Begins" set the tone for Christoper Nolan's take on the Caped Crusader by being more than a superhero movie. Instead of stringing together a plot to link huge action scenes and crazy villain antics, that film was a serious exploration of the psyche of Bruce Wayne, an attempt to understand what motivates a man to become a bat.

Now, with "The Dark Knight", Nolan has done it again, but on a whole other level completely. "The Dark Knight" is not so much a superhero movie as it is an exploration of the nature of human morality. On the one hand, there is Batman, a hero for the causes of good who will never be seen as heroic because he is, in the end, a masked vigilante whose primary weapon against crime is fear. Bruce Wayne seeks the day when Gotham City will no longer need Batman, when a true knight-in-shining-armor will rise, somebody as incorruptible as Batman but also highly visible and inspirational. Batman stands for good, but he's no role model.

Wayne sees such a role model in Gotham City's new district attorney, Harvey Dent, portrayed very strongly by Aaron Eckhart. Like Batman, Dent is a force for good. But, because he is on the correct side of the law, he can not only do good but also inspire others to do good. For Bryce Wayne (and many others), Harvey Dent is a savior, whereas Batman is a stop-gap solution. But, in order for Dent to remain a savior, he must truly be incorruptible, which is not easy. The film does a brilliant job of exploring exactly how much a man of good can be pushed.

And who is there to do all of the pushing? Who is here to represent the forces of pure evil? In steps the Joker, a violent psychopath who unleashes chaos in Gotham City purely for the heck of it. This is not the cartoonish clown of prior Batman incarnations, who uses gags like exploding jack-in-the-boxes, hand buzzers that electrocute, or lapel flowers that squirt acid. No, this is a fiend who is pure evil. I don't use the word "evil" lightly and I feel like it is used too lightly in our common lexicon. For me, evil is beyond being very very bad or even irredeemably bad. Someone who is evil must fully understand the difference between right and wrong and still choose wrong out of disdain for what is right. That is what this Joker does, going beyond that to not only mock the forces of good, but to place them in situations that force them to question the nature of right and wrong. The Joker traps people in their own morality. He is in every way the Devil in a clown suit.

Everybody knows about all of the buzz surrounding the late Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker, and Ledger far exceeds expectations. He lives up to the hype and goes far beyond. There has not been a performance this strong in a very long time. Comparisons are already being made between Ledger's Joker and Anthony Hopkins' Hannibal Lecter from "The Silence of the Lambs," but the fact is that, as menacing and chilling as Lecter is, he's got nothing on the Joker. Hannibal Lecter can creep his way into your head, but the Joker will ask questions of your very soul. There has been much talk of giving Heath Ledger a posthumous Oscar for this role, but I will go one step further: if Heath Ledger does not win the Oscar for playing the Joker, then the award should not be given out this year at all.

Not much has been said about the other characters, but they all give solid performances. Gary Oldman as Jim Gordon is something of an unsung hero in this film, in that he is what links Harvey Dent's brand of morality with Batman's brand of morality as well as being the link between Dent's actions within the law and Batman's actions outside the law. He stands in the movie speaking for us as an audience that supports Batman's vigilantism but also understands the needs of a civilized society and knows why Batman cannot become public policy and must remain an outlaw to be effective. Oldman has been known for his many villain roles, but here he plays a hero who doesn't have to wear a mask. There's an equally brilliant performance by Michael Caine as Alfred, a paternal figure for Batman who tries to keep him on track with his morality, and Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox, Batman's gadget man who makes a rather poignant remark about the morality of eavesdropping that feels particularly relevant in this day and age.

By tackling an issue like morality, "The Dark Knight" has so deeply grounded itself in reality that it can be appreciated even by those who are not comic book fans. It is this that enables it to be more than just a superhero movie and which makes it a strong contender for the Best Picture Oscar. This is not just a comic book movie for kids. This is a powerful action movie, a technical and cinematographical masterpiece, and a serious philosophical exploration of morality for a mature, thinking audience. It is not only the best film in 2008 but also one of the best films to come along in a while.

In the classic and controversial "Dirty Harry", we're introduced to a character who is fed up with the legal system. Why must rampant lawlessness be fought with a system that is slower than slime? We know who the bad guys are; let's just take them out! That is what Inspector Harry Callahan believes in and that is what he does in the first film. Clint Eastwood's Harry Callahan and Charles Bronson's Paul Kersey from "Death Wish" serve as the models of vigilante justice, as people who reflect what even the most liberal among us secretly want, which is to see bad guys brought down. They are the men who enforce justice when the law fails to do so.

What "Magnum Force" does is to show the other side of the coin, to show what happens when vigilante justice gets "too dirty" even by Dirty Harry's standards. The movie serves to add considerable depth to Harry Callahan. He hates the system but "until someone comes along with changes that work, I'm sticking with it." From this movie, we see that Dirty Harry is not a fascist, but rather is a man with a strong moral compass who always does the right thing. He's willing to break the law to do the right thing, but he's never going to do the wrong thing. Even vigilantism has its limits and, in "Magnum Force", Harry takes on those who have gone too far.

The great thing about the "Dirty Harry" movies is not just that they're entertaining action movies but that they leave a lot of room for discussion. These are movies that raise questions about the link between the law and justice. The original "Dirty Harry" is a statement against a legal system perceived as excessively liberal, where protecting the rights of killers results in injustice to innocent victims. "Magnum Force" is a response to that philosophy and is a statement against an excessively right-wing legal system, where individual law enforcement officers become judge, jury, and executioner. In both cases, in steps Harry Callahan as the voice of morality and justice.

Only with a lead character as strong as Dirty Harry can an action movie series debate itself this effectively.

At the start of "Escape from New York," we are told how the crime rate in the U.S. increases 400% in 1988 (7 years in the future at the time of the film's release), prompting the entire island of Manhattan to become a maximum security prison, complete with a 50-foot wall surrounding the island, mines along the bridges that connect Manhattan to the outside world, and prison security headquartered, ironically, at the Statue of Liberty. Prisoners who attempt to escape are, of course, shot (or, more accurately, bombed) and those who are entering have the option to ask the guard for a "termination and cremation." The film opens with some great scenes of this bleak, dystopian future, where the U.S. has become a total police state. It reminded me of the opening to another classic 1980's dystopian sci-fi hit, "Blade Runner," which came out a year after "Escape from New York." I really wish we could have stuck with these scenes for a little while longer or maybe even made them the basis of an entire movie. John Carpenter grabbed my interest early in the film, showing me a world that I wished he had explored more during the movie.

But, the needs of the plot compel us to move along. Air Force One, hijacked by some revolutionary group that we never hear from again, crash lands on Manhattan Island and now the President of the United States is being held hostage by its psychotic prisoners. (Insert New Yorker joke here.) The only rescue mission that has any possibility of succeeding is to secretly send in a lone commando, who must extricate the President within 24 hours or some major talks between the world superpowers will break down.

Here, we meet Snake Plissken, well-played by Kurt Russell, an ex-commando-turned-felon who was on his way to becoming the newest New Yorker, but instead is asked (or, rather forced) to take on this mission by Police Commissioner Bob Hauk (played by Lee Van Cleef). Plissken is quite a character. Here is a true anti-hero, a man who cares nothing for the people he serves or the fate of the world. (Really, why should he care? We only entered this world 15 minutes ago and we already wouldn't want to help the powers-that-be who have made the world so bleak.) Kurt Russell does a fine job of showing us that Plissken is not a hero in the guise of a cold-blooded felon (as is usually the case with action movie heroes). Plissken is a felon through-and-through but, by reason of circumstance, he has been forced to save the day in a world not really worth saving. (Why Hauk had to pick Plissken and not one of his myriad deputies is not clear, but do we care?)

Once Plissken gets to Manhattan, the world we had seen earlier changes into a different kind of world, a kind of urban jungle hell, complete with the living dead in the form of Manhattan's heartless prisoners. It's an interesting world, but not developed as much as the one we saw at the beginning of the film and therefore not as fascinating. I was looking for more telltale signs of this being New York City, and we see some, but it feels inadequate. We also meet various characters, including a big-time boss (Isaac Hayes), one of his henchmen (Harry Dean Stanton), and (since this is, after all, a movie that takes place in New York) a cabbie (Ernest Borgnine), all of whom don't really get developed that much and so we don't really care about them as much.

Bleak future and character development aside, we're in this movie for the action. Unfortunately, we don't get enough of that either. The action scenes that are there are good, but they feel thrown together with minor threads of plot connecting them. I was hoping for a lot more. Also, there is one scene later in the movie involving Plissken duking it out with a pro wrestler that I would have cut out altogether. At the end of the film, some events occur that show Plissken's character quite well, but also left me asking questions about what would happen next, questions I wished I hadn't been left with.

"Escape from New York" had the potential to be a much better movie than it is. As it stands, it is not a bad movie. Rather, it's one that tried to do too much and ended up not doing enough justice to what it wanted to do. What it does do, it does well. It just doesn't do enough.

As many will tell you, "Commando" epitomizes the completely mindless (some would even call it downright lobotomized) action/adventure that defines the career of Arnold Schwarzenegger. "Commando" is an incredibly stupid movie, but it never pretends to be anything else, either. It's not trying to win any awards but rather to just give the audience what it wants: lots of fighting and action sequences, quotable one-liners (often great, often corny, often both), and a plot that serves no purpose other than to provide a reason to shoot down bad guys by the hundreds or to blow stuff up. Here is a movie that has absolutely no artistic merit, a movie that sucks, but knows that it sucks and doesn't pretend not to suck.

In a sense, that's what makes the movie fun to watch. Yes, the stunts are impossible (like Ah-nold jumping from a plane and landing in 3 feet of water with a nice soft splash). Yes, the plot is awfully convenient (like Rae Dawn Chong going from being a hysterical onlooker to trusty sidekick in the span of about 1 scene). But, that's what this movie was always supposed to be. It's what it was marketed as. The film-makers knew they were making a movie that would be "so bad that it's good", one where the entertainment would come from what almost amounts to a parody of action movie plots. That's what they promised and that's what they deliver.

The plot of the movie (seriously, do we care?) involves the Governator taking on a bunch of foreign thugs led by an exiled dictator (Dan Hedaya, who I remember as later having played the greedy Cubs manager in "Rookie of the Year") who are seeking revenge and have kidnapped his daughter (played by a young Alyssa Milano). But Arnie is not one to take things sitting down, though, and soon amasses enough firepower to take a small country and a dorky sidekick (Rae Dawn Chong) with enough annoying power to actually irritate me.

Don't get me wrong. The movie sucks, but I'm not saying I didn't have fun while watching it. I think one thing I liked about "Commando" (and probably the reason why it remains a cult favorite) is that it doesn't merely stick to clichéd plots and action sequences. Instead, every single aspect of this movie, every line of dialogue, every fight scene, everything is cliché. Rather than even trying to be original, it goes all-out on clichés. Leave no cliché behind. The result of this is a movie fits the mindless action movie genre perfectly. If somebody asks what a mindless action movie is, point to "Commando." I think this is why "Commando" has endured as a cult favorite.

Along the same lines, "Commando" sums up Schwarzenegger's entire career. Note that I'm certainly not saying that "Commando" is Schwarzenegger's best movie. The best movies of his career are "The Terminator" and "Terminator 2: Judgment Day." Those are movies that have artistic merit and that completely redefined action/adventure (and special effects). They have memorable one-liners ("I'll be back"), interesting plots, strong characters, and are just extraordinarily well-made movies. "Commando" is none of those things. But, neither are most of Arnold's movies. "Commando" thus defines what is a stereotypical Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.

You know those "McBain" movies that they show clips of on "The Simpsons" from time to time? You know, the ones starring Springfield's resident Arnold-look-alike Rainier Wolfcastle that basically parody Schwarzenegger movies? "Commando" is a McBain movie.

I liked "Fargo." It is a very good movie, with a great deal of originality and spectacular performances by Frances McDormand and William H. Macy. McDormand definitely deserves her Oscar, although it's a bit tragic that Macy didn't get one, since he gives the better performance (although I emphasize that both performances are spectacular). The film also presents an interesting contrast, with complications, violence, and sin on one side, and simple folksy down-home humanity on the other. It is this contrast that makes "Fargo" difficult to categorize. Crime plays a central role in the story and yet it's not a crime story, thriller, or mystery. The scenes with Frances McDormand are laugh-out-loud hilarious (and she is a true master of the art of awkward smiles for awkward moments), and yet the film is not a comedy (not even a black comedy). It's a different kind of film altogether.

And yet, I can't quite join the critics in calling this "one of the greatest films ever made" or "the best film of 1996" or anything like that. It is a very good movie. The Coen brothers are talented filmmakers. But, when I watched "Fargo," I felt like something was missing. I can't quite put my finger on what, though. There's just some je ne sais quoi that's missing from this film.

Maybe I felt like the link between the violent plot and the comedic plot was not strong enough, that they were connected, but not strongly enough. Maybe I thought the movie was driven too strongly by the characters and not enough by the plot. I usually love character-driven stories more than plot-driven ones. (The character-driven films of Martin Scorsese, especially "Taxi Driver," are probably my favorite films). Yet, maybe I was looking for a bit more plot in "Fargo." I really don't know. But there's something that's preventing "Fargo" from being one of the greatest films of all time, and I don't know what it is.

Usually, when you go to see an action/adventure movie, especially an Indiana Jones movie, you're going to suspend your disbelief and just allow yourself to "get into" the movie. These kinds of movies are supposed to be mindless escapist fun. Still, one might expect some small modicum of plausibility or connection to the real world. When it comes to "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," forget about suspending disbelief. Just pretend you're in another dimension altogether. If you do that, you'll have have met one of the two prerequisites for seeing this movie. (If you don't believe me now, you will when you see this film and see our hero survive a cataclysmic event in a fairly cartoonish manner a mere 15 minutes into the film.) The other prerequisite is that you've seen the other three movies...religiously. A huge chunk of the entertainment value of this film comes from nostalgia, in-jokes, and self-parody. It is an entertaining movie and I had fun and laughed while I was watching it and the reason for this is because we are either enjoying seeing all of the same old gags done once again in a bigger and cooler way, or we are enjoying seeing those gags mocked. Trusty bullwhip? Check. Fedora? Check. Long car chase with fighting and leaping and what-not? Check. Dark tombs lit only by torches? Check. Gross creepy crawly critters? Check.

This is what makes the movie entertaining, but is also what prevents it from greatness and what makes me hesitant to call it a true "Indiana Jones" movie. George Lucas (who co-wrote the screenplay) has tried to do here what he did to the "Star Wars" prequels, namely that he thinks that appealing to the fan base with in-jokes, self-parody, and re-hashing the same old stuff can take the place of actually writing a a story that can stand on its own merits. The "Star Wars" prequels failed because Lucas could not get past his constant references to the original trilogy and so instead created fan fiction instead of true prequels. (Well, there was also the fact that Lucas' dialogue SUCKED.) Here, the stunts and action sequences and in-jokes keep us feeling entertained during the course of the film, but when we walk away, we wonder where was the real story.

Indiana Jones is a homage to 1930s serials about treasure hunters. He's out of place in the 1950s. Also out of place are the Soviets(led by Cate Blanchett in a Rosa Kleb-like role). And there are many, many, MANY instances where you will get to wondering just how implausible the next stunt will be. All of that I can put up with, though, and in fact can and do add to the entertainment value of the film. What I could not put up with was the ending, which will remind you not of Indiana Jones but of the ending to another Spielberg movies that pre-dates "Raiders of the Lost Ark."

This movie is lots of fun to watch, but it doesn't take itself seriously and probably shouldn't be part of the Indiana Jones canon.

When "Ramayan" aired, India (even then having a population over 900 million) came to a standstill. Buses stopped running, religious services (Hindu and non-Hindu) were rescheduled, and everyone stopped what they were doing for 30 minutes every Sunday morning to watch the ancient Indian epic brought to life on television. It's hard to believe that something like that is possible, but it really happened. Despite being dismissed by some as a cheap production with garish sets, cheesy special effects, and melodramatic dialogue, "Ramayan" was and continues to be a phenomenon.

True, the production is quite obviously very low budget and it shows in the special effects and sets. (Tollywood director Bapu's "Seeta Kalyanam" a.k.a. "Seeta Swayamvar" shows a much better production, even though it, too, was low-budget.) Some of the same actors are used repeatedly for various minor roles and voices. At times, it does look like a high school production.

But, what Ramanand Sagar (who, in my opinion, is otherwise a mediocre filmmaker) has done here is spectacular. Despite all of the above, "Ramayan" works incredibly well because one can sense that a great deal of devotion went into making it. This is a series that really has a heart and soul. Every time I watch "Ramayan," I have a religious experience.

The dialogue might sound melodramatic to some (and sometimes it is), but the script is extremely faithful to the original texts that it is based off of. Sometimes, lines are directly quoted from Valmiki or Tulsidas and translated into Hindi. "Ramayan" takes very little dramatic license and so what is presented on screen is an accurate presentation of the source texts. This gives "Ramayan" value not only to devout Hindus but also to students of Hindu religion and Indian epic poetry, both of whom can watch the series and get a good understanding of the works of Valmiki, Tulsidas, and others. The feeling conveyed in the television series is the feeling conveyed from a recital of the epic itself.

What also helps this series tremendously is the music by Ravindra Jain. Indian storytelling in general (both in film and in religious sermons) has a tradition of mixing dialogue with songs. Here, Ravindra Jain uses music to its fullest advantage. There are plenty of songs throughout the series, but they are placed in perfect situations. This is not the typical Bollywood style of breaking into song and dance at random and inappropriate places. Instead, rather than boring the audience with a long battle scene filled with cheap special effects, the battle is shown with a song describing the battle. Scenes of devotion naturally have devotional music with them. Transition scenes are accompanied by lines of Tulsidas. In fact, Jain sometimes cleverly and seamlessly merges his own lyrics with the poetry of Tulsidas, creating songs that are modern masterpieces of music.

I'm generally satisfied with the casting choices. Arun Govil and Deepika do well as Rama and Sita. Dara Singh is not an incredibly talented actor (he is originally a wrestler), but it worked for me to have him as Hanuman. My three favorite performances, though, are Sunil Lahri as Lakshmana (he's got Lakshmana's angry look down perfectly), Vijay Arora as Indrajit (he's got the boisterous personality down), and veteran character actress Lalita Pawar as Manthara (a perfect choice, as Pawar made a career out of playing literally hundreds of Manthara-like characters). Arvind Trivedi is not bad as Ravana, but he does not have the physically dominating presence that Ravana would need to have. Ravana should be tall, dark, muscular, and handsome, and Trivedi is none of those things. Still, not a bad performance on his part. (As an aside, the single worst casting choice is the actor picked to play Parshurama in one episode early on in the series; they picked somebody less than 5 feet tall to play a domineering character and it completely doesn't work.)

We tend to put all of that aside, though, because of just how well the story works for us. "Ramayan" made religion fashionable on Indian television. This is why some scholars list Ramanand Sagar (who, I reiterate, was an otherwise mediocre filmmaker) as one of 4 men (along with Valmiki, Tulsidas, and Kamban) who has shaped modern interpretations of the Ramayana story. That is quite an achievement, to be one of the four main forces that guide a tradition that dates back thousands of years, all on a budget (I'm told) of Rs. 100,000 per episode.

Really, I've already said more than needs to be said. All that really needs to be said is that "Ramayan" brought India to a STANDSTILL!

I was curious about "Cujo" when I first heard about it. I think that Nature being Nature is often much scarier than anything the human mind can come up with (which is why the movie "Outbreak" did not need the Hollywood-esquire chase scenes later on -- the deadly virus was scary enough). Knowing that this movie had been made based on a story by legendary horror writer Stephen King about a rabid dog, I was intrigued. This dog wasn't possessed by evil or a mutant or of alien origin or anything like that. Just a friendly St. Bernard who got rabies and became a monster. How was King going to add his unique touch to this one? I was growing skeptical: how compelling a villain could a rabid St. Bernard be and how scary a movie could they make about him?

The answers are that Cujo is not a compelling villain and "Cujo" is not scary.

Cujo is the most interesting character in the film, with the bunny he's chasing in the opening scene coming in second. (The kid was going to get an honorable mention, but I'll get to him in a minute.) The human characters are so artificial that the natural acting of the dog won my sympathy. I did not, however, ever feel scared of Cujo. I felt sorry for him. He's not mean-spirited or evil or anything like that; the poor dog has rabies and is only doing what he's doing because a bunch of tiny viruses are turning his brain into mush. He's a tragic villain, which horror villains can never be. Horror villains have to be menacing and EEEVIL or else we'll never fear them. Cujo won my heart though. Believe it or not, this movie actually made me like St. Bernards more. (Maybe I'll get one.)

Now, about the characters and the story itself. First, this 95-minute film spends a solid 35 minutes setting up a bunch of stupid, clichéd subplots that serve no purpose whatsoever except to kind-of-sort-of provide a reason for a woman and her young kid to drive to the spot where Cujo happens to be. Once they get there, we're treated to an hour in which we see the same old scares over and over again. (Like I said, if you've seen the trailer, you've pretty much seen the movie. There's only so many times that a dog head-butting a window can be scary, although it didn't scare me once.) I think the film was trying to go for the "claustrophobic scare," where terror is generated from the thought that the woman and her kid can't leave the car for fear of Cujo. But, we never feel that terror, mainly because Cujo simply is not EEEEEVIL. Also, having the kid screaming his head off each time the dog shows up started to feel exploitative after a while. Horror movies usually have kids in traumatic situations, but if you're going to traumatize a kid for this long, the kid better either be possessed or he better have "the shining."

This movie could have worked with better direction and perhaps some innovative camera-work and editing, but it lacks all of that and so it doesn't work. Frankly, had the filmmakers cut out the first 35 minutes and trimmed the rest of the film down, they would have had a decent hour-long episode of "The Twilight Zone."

Cujo is a cool dog, but "Cujo" sucks.

Roger Ebert gave "Home Alone" a mere 2-1/2 stars, which is the same rating he gave "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," another one of my childhood favorites. (For comparison, he gave that same rating to mediocre movies like "Six Days, Seven Nights" and "Superman III.") The reasoning he gave for giving "Home Alone" that rating was that he liked the first half of the movie, but then didn't like the burglar/booby traps plot in the second half. At first, I was going to say that Roger Ebert has simply lost touch with his inner child, but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I watched "Home Alone" today after many years and I still loved it and I still laughed, even though I had practically memorized the movie as a kid and still remembered it all. As a kid, I remember always wanting to get to the "cool" stuff when watching this movie, the parts about pulling pranks on the pizza man or booby-trapping the house. I'd fast-forward through much of the first half (even though I liked it). This time around, I had a new-found appreciation for the beginning half, where we get to see how an 8-year-old copes with waking up and discovering that his family has disappeared. I still LOVE the second half of the movie, but I saw the first half in a new light this time.

I think the reason why that happened is the same reason why Roger Ebert didn't like the second half of the movie. As an adult, one watches family movies to remember what it was like to be a kid, to remember the dreams of being grown-up and independent and the silly little fears of things in the basement. That's what the first half of the movie offers and it works for both kids and adults; kids relate to it and adults reminisce about it.

The second half is for the kids (and for the inner child). Sure, it's pretty outrageous to see an 8-year-old devise clever booby-traps that work like clockwork and are encountered in precisely the right order. Ebert says that our little hero gets too smart and doesn't have the budget for his fancy booby-trapping. Maybe, but that's not the point. Adults watch and say, "Man, this can never happen." But kids say, "Man! I wish I could do that!" It is, after all, one reason why we go to the movies: to see things that can only happen in the movies. As a kid, words could not describe how awesome it was to see an 8-year-old take on two adult burglars and pummel them (especially after one of the burglars had the nerve to say, "Kids are stupid"). It is a child's fantasy come true.

That is why this movie was so popular when it came out, why it stayed #1 at the box office for 12 straight weeks. It's also why every family movie from the 1990's tried (and failed) to imitate it. Kids love it because it's a dream come true and parents love it because it's a dream remembered.

(By the way, parents, I should warn you that kids will want to try and imitate our little hero and, unless you want your house booby-trapped, I'd advise that you let them know not to do that. Also, there's one scene where our hero celebrates his new-found freedom by watching a gangster movie, where he sees one gangster blow another one away with a tommy gun, a scene that scares him and makes him remember his mom. Older kids and adults will laugh at the scene (because it's way over the top), but little kids may actually get scared. Just a caution.)

Macauly Culkin is great as our hero, Kevin. He was a pretty talented child star and it's too bad his career never really went anywhere. Our two burglars are Daniel Stern and Joe Pesci, who are the Pinky and The Brain of breaking and entering. I think Stern's character, Marv, was supposed to be the funnier one, but I personally liked Pesci's character, Harry, more. One thing I love is the way he's muttering nonsense under his breath every time he gets caught in a booby-trap, since he can't curse in a family movie. (Actually, true story, he had to do that because he had just finished filming his Oscar-winning and totally awesome role in "Goodfellas" as a foul-mouthed, quick-tempered, homicidal maniac of a gangster and so he was quite prone to cursing.)

What can I say? I LOVE this movie! It makes me a kid again.

The first 45 or so minutes of "The Birds" (which is 2 hours long) is spent setting up an unusual plot about a woman named Melanie Daniels (played by Tippi Hedren) stalking a man she met in a pet shop named Mitch Brenner (played by Rod Taylor), supposedly out of playful romantic interest. She goes through a LOT of trouble to get in touch with this guy, whom she didn't really seem to get along with in the pet shop. How she suddenly fell in love with this guy or why she goes through so much trouble to do what she does is never explained.

But, then we get to see dive-bombing birds!

I don't necessarily mind a red herring plot, mind you. "Psycho" starts off as a story about an embezzler running away, but it takes a dramatic turn into uncharted territory as soon as our protagonist stops for the night at the Bates Motel. However, unlike in "Psycho," the red herring plot doesn't disappear in "The Birds" once the main plot begins. We see long discussions between Melanie and her newly found roommate (played by Suzanne Pleshette) about Mitch. We see heart-to-heart conversations between Mitch and Melanie. And, the relationship between Mitch and his mother has clear elements of the jealous, controlling relationship that Mrs. Bates has with her son Norman. Why all of this continues to happen throughout the movie, I have no idea. It's all interesting stuff, but it starts to feel like filler material after a while.

All of this, of course, occurs in between scenes of DIVE-BOMBING BIRDS!

Speaking of such birds, I did enjoy seeing them and the attack scenes. This is a movie that would look great and be pretty scary in 3-D. The one thing I loved the most about any of the attack scenes was the sound effects of the bird calls. The cacophony of bird calls, while seemingly innocent in real life, manages to make these birds seem ever more menacing in this film.

At the same time, though, I couldn't help but wonder what on earth possessed the birds to suddenly attack and in such massive numbers. Why did they keep on attacking? Why did their attacks seem way more intelligent than we know birds to be? Are they supernatural birds? Do they have some disease? Have they gone psycho? Are they under the control of Norman Bates' mother? In the beginning, there's something mentioned about dead chickens and bad birdseed. Does that have anything to do with the birds' behavior? None of this is ever answered.

I'm willing to put up with lack of explanation, as well, since I'm sure no explanation would probably satisfy me, given the behavior of the birds. But, then, the film never really finishes the story either. Right as the we're getting into the thick of the plot, the film is over. No resolution, no explanation, no real sense of "falling action" either. We reach the climax of the story and then we're done right away.

Now, I don't mind ambiguous endings. Sometimes, the best way to end the film is on an ambiguous note. But, with a red herring plot that continues throughout the film even after it is revealed to be a red herring, no explanation for the odd behavior of the birds, and no resolution to the main plot, I walked away from "The Birds" thinking that I had seen a script that had a good premise but had no idea where it wanted to go with it.

But, still, DIVE-BOMBING BIRDS! :)

The late Gene Siskel hated "The Silence of the Lambs," thinking of it as being far too gruesome and distasteful and as having zero originality to it. Roger Ebert gave the 3.5 out of 4 stars, saying that he did enjoy the film but that some scenes were lacking, such as the ending.

Siskel missed the point. The chill from "The Silence of the Lambs" doesn't come from revolutionary originality, which it doesn't have. The chill of "The Silence of the Lambs" is in how it maximizes fear and suspense in a plot that one could simply describe as "police on the hunt for a serial killer." It is here where "The Silence of the Lambs" set the bar; it takes a B-movie concept and raises it to the level of a taut A-level thriller.

The plot has the FBI on the hunt for a serial killer known as "Buffalo Bill" (played by Ted Levine). Stuck, the lead investigator (played by Scott Glenn) wants to get the perspective of another serial killer, to try and see inside the psychotic mind. He recruits the young FBI trainee Clarice Starling (played by Jodie Foster) to talk to the brilliant and cannibalistic psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lecter (played by Anthony Hopkins). Lecter agrees to help Starling, but only if she will grant him the sadistic pleasure of allowing him to see inside her mind.

Even though the plot is about Buffalo Bill, with Lecter only having 16 minutes on screen in a 2-hour movie, Lecter and Starling are way more interesting and end up being the driving force for the film. In many films, an excellent performance by the villain can steal the show away from the hero. (Tim Burton's "Batman," featuring a brilliant performance by Jack Nicholson as The Joker, is a prime example of this.) In "The Silence of the Lambs," we have strong performances by both of the lead actors. Hopkins' Lecter is clearly everybody's favorite character, but Foster's performance as Starling is powerful enough to not get eclipsed by Hopkins.

Not getting eclipsed is something of a theme for this film. Our heroine is not trying to be heroic. Starling is strong and courageous and could kick anyone's butt, and yet she comes across as vulnerable. She is a woman in a man's world and everywhere she goes, there is a sense of being dominated. She is 5'3" in a film where most other characters are over 6' tall. (The camera often skillfully has Starling occupying only the lower half of the frame; seeing so much space above her head makes her look shorter and more vulnerable.) Her black hair (which is different from Foster's natural light brown) makes her appear paler than she really is. Other characters are always hitting on her. She always whispers and is always giving a nervous smile. Even her slight Southern accent gives her a "country girl" appeal that helps the audience identify with her. Starling is an FBI agent-in-training and is clearly quite skilled at handling dangerous situations, but she still shares our vulnerabilities. As a result of this, her fears are our fears. This is the true skill of Jodie Foster's performance; she manages to play Starling as a woman of great strength and vulnerability at once.

Credit should also go to the film-makers. One strong point is their choice to only be selectively gruesome. This is one key difference between "The Silence of the Lambs" and garden-variety serial killer movies. The latter often derive their scares by showing incredibly brutal images and portraying utterly disgusting scenarios. Fear is generated by the audience's own horrified reaction to what is being shown on screen. "The Silence of the Lambs" does not give in to that temptation though. It casually shows us several rather gruesome images to get us nervous, but then keeps some of the most disturbing stuff cleverly off-camera. Of course, this serves to only make them scarier; what could be so gruesome that not even this creepy film is willing to show it on camera?

I do have criticisms. My main complaint is that Buffalo Bill is a lightweight who left me longing for the much more interesting and menacing Hannibal Lecter. Buffalo Bill is sick, twisted, and downright nauseating, but he also is a coward, who has to resort to trickery and gadgetry to make himself formidable. Lecter, on the other hand, has all the tools he needs right there in his brain. He is the smartest character in the film and he knows it and he loves it. He is so charismatic that he can enter the mind of anyone, no matter how hard they resist. This makes Lecter scary even when he is off-camera. Buffalo Bill is not really all that scary even when he's on camera; he's more just plain gross.

The thrill of this movie is psychological. We don't feel thrilled because of cool action sequences or original plot ideas but rather because of the fear that we can relate to and the mind games that Lecter plays. Something of a void is left in scenes in the latter half of the film, where Lecter is absent. (Here, I agree with Ebert.) Nonetheless, Foster's performance makes up for that. Even in the final showdown with Buffalo Bill, the thrill is still there because we feel Starling's fear, even though the audience has not been particularly scared of Buffalo Bill up until now. (Here, I disagree with Ebert, who feels the showdown is lacking.)

"The Silence of the Lambs" is thrilling and chilling. The main villain is a lightweight, but the secondary villain is among the most menacing and evil in cinema history. I think that after we walk away from this film, we somehow are left with the feeling that, at least for those 2 hours, Hannibal Lecter managed to get inside our own minds as well.

"Duel" is a 1971 made-for-TV movie directed by a 24-year-old that was filmed in less than two weeks and ended up costing less than $350,000 to make. When I tell people about the plot of the film (a tanker truck chasing a hapless driver, trying to kill him), they roll their eyes. On the surface, everything about "Duel" seems to cry out, "Cheesy!"

The fact is, though, that "Duel" is the exact opposite. It is a film of powerful suspense and its strength lies in its simplicity. The plot of "Duel" is something that anybody who has ever driven a car can relate to, namely that we've all had experiences with drivers who think they own the road. Many of us have also had experiences with drivers who seem to "stalk" us, who somehow get so mad that they repeatedly cut us off or repeatedly honk at us.

"Duel" just takes that common experience and takes it one step further: what if one of those crazy drivers was crazy enough to try to kill you?

This is Steven Spielberg's first film and it's quite obvious why this film launched his career. Spielberg himself often describes the film as something of a precursor to "Jaws," as he feels that both films are about "these leviathans targeting every man." Indeed, that overwhelming feeling of an unstoppable beast is present in both films, but "Duel" has one advantage here that "Jaws" does not. The villain in "Jaws" is a shark who, while unstoppable, is also avoidable. If you don't want to get eaten, don't go in the water.

In "Duel," though, the truck can't be avoided. If you run, it follows you. If you hide, it finds you. If you stop, it waits for you. You can't run from it and you can't stop it. Our protagonist is out in the middle of nowhere and so there is seemingly no place where this truck can't go. As I watched "Duel," it evoked something of a nightmarish feeling, the common nightmare of being chased and not being able to outrun the adversary. It is because "Duel" evokes such feelings and because it draws its plot from a common experience that the film doesn't require a great deal of suspension of disbelief, which is what helps the suspense hit right at one's core.

You may have noticed here that I keep referring to the truck and not its driver. That is because, while we know in the back of our minds that the unseen driver is the one who is crazy, "Duel" portrays the villain as the truck itself. This works so much better than having the driver as the villain. The truck is huge and heavy. It is dirty and scarred, like a battle-hardened beast. It also has its own mindless roar: the honking of its air horn. Again, simplicity works to the film's advantage.

What is most memorable for me about "Duel" is its ending. I won't even hint at how the movie ends, except to say that it includes one sound effect that adds a Spielberg-esquire touch to it.

"Duel" is gripping and powerful. I will probably never see trucks the same way again.

I had never given much thought to the assassination of John F. Kennedy. I am not nor ever have been any kind of conspiracy theorist, though that's not to say that I'm not a skeptic either. I was skeptical of the "official story" in the assassination. I suspected there was some kind of conspiracy involved and that Lee Harvey Oswald didn't act alone, but never gave the matter much thought nor did I ever actually go back and look at any of the evidence in the matter.

Oliver Stone is different, though. For him, the world shook when shots rang out in Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963, and left the youthful, handsome, and charismatic President of the United States dead, the Governor of Texas severely wounded, and the nation in shock. The Warren Commission's official story of what happened that day really bothered Stone. It was a story he found hurried, inadequate, flawed, and highly suspect, like the Commission was desperate to make the facts fit a preconceived notion of one assassin and three shots. It bothered him enough that he made a movie offering, in his words, "my counter-fiction to the Warren Commission's fiction." "JFK" isn't supposed to be the definitive end-all explanation of what happened that fateful day but rather is supposed to get us thinking about it again, a task that it achieves with sheer brilliance.

Oliver Stone presents us with a unique set of characters: the straight-faced New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison (Kevin Costner), the flamboyant low-life David Ferrie (Joe Pesci), a loudmouth male prostitute (Kevin Bacon), the snobbish businessman Clay Shaw (Tommy Lee Jones), the "Deep Throat"-like mystery informant known only as X (Donald Sutherland), and the mysterious Lee Harvey Oswald (Gary Oldman). Except for Bacon and Sutherland's characters, who are composite figures, all the others are based on real people. What Stone is doing, though, is not retelling the story of how Jim Garrison brought forth the only prosecution in the JFK assassination. Even while this movie was in production, Stone was being criticized for making a movie for the purpose of "vindicating" the real-life Garrison, who many see as being interested only in his own glory. Stone, however, is not trying to vindicate anybody here. What Stone has done is use the real-life story of Jim Garrison as a jumping-off point to present his case, which is why Stone makes use of information (such as the whereabouts of Oswald right before the assassination) that Garrison did not have in 1969. Stone wants to cast suspicion on the Warren Commission's findings and uses Garrison as his medium to do just that.

In that sense, this movie is not really advocating any one theory but rather rejecting the Warren Commission's theory. People have criticized the final theory that Stone puts forth, but in doing so, they have achieved his goal, which is to get the dialogue going again on the JFK assassination. What he presents is not necessarily fact but is rather "counter-fiction." The first half of the film feels very much like a conspiracy theory, where I sat wondering how much of what I was being shown was true. In the scene where Garrison meets with X, where X talks about the question of *why* Kennedy was killed, the reasons put forth bring the conspiracy to the highest levels of the government and somehow manage to sound both outrageous and plausible at the same time. Throughout the movie, Stone uses a variety of film types and both color and black-and-white to present flashbacks and hypothetical scenarios so realistic that they achieve their goal of feeling like they are actual events.

The end result is a movie that offers not *the* answer but *an* answer, an answer that rejects the Warren Commission's theory of a lone assassin, with evidence to support it. Now, tons of movies have been made and tons of books have been written offering various answers. But what makes Oliver Stone's "JFK" so unique is its storytelling. "JFK" is thrilling and mysterious, grabbing us by the collar and leading us step-by-step through the eyes of Jim Garrison through one of the greatest unsolved crimes of the 20th century. At the climax, Stone uses the power of film to its fullest potential, using his own color and black-and-white footage, created with a variety of film types, alongside archived footage (especially the famous Zapruder film) to show his heart-pounding recreation of the assassination, with John William's exhilarating soundtrack playing in the background. It is quite simply one of the the most exciting and heart-pounding scenes I have ever seen in any movie. "JFK" won Oscars for Best Cinematography and Best Film Editing and this one scene was enough to win both of those awards. It is a scene that is undoubtedly used in film schools to demonstrate a masterpiece of cinematography and editing.

After watching "JFK," I still can't say that I know what happened at Dealey Plaza on November 22, 1963. Did Oswald act alone? Was there a conspiracy? If so, who was involved? How many shots rang out? Was Oswald merely, as he claimed, a "patsy"? "JFK" asks these questions and wants us to ask them. It wants us to, if not reject, then at least *question* the official account and after watching it, it's impossible not to.

I love Hrishikesh Mukherjee's work. The man seems to be good at whatever movie he makes. He made a series of comedies, including "Guddi," "Bawarchi," and "Gol Maal," all of which were funny and heartwarming. "Chupke Chupke" is pretty funny, too.

The film follows the newlywed botany professor Parimal (Dharmendra) and his lovely wife Archana (Sharmila Tagore), the latter of whom can't stop talking about how wonderful her "jijaji" (Hindi for sister's husband, played here by Om Prakash) is. After 3 weeks of marriage, Parimal is sick of hearing about nothing but this doggoned "jijaji" and decides that he must stick it to him and Archana once and for all. "Jijaji" is supposed to be the most brilliant and perceptive man in the world according to Archana, so Parimal decides that the best way to stick it to them all is to somehow fool "jijaji." Fortunately for him, "jijaji" has asked Archana to help him find a chauffeur and so Parimal decides to go posed as the chauffeur instead. Archana decides to play along with this little scheme, as do Archana's older brother (David) and Parimal's friends Prashant (Asrani) and Sukumar (Amitabh Bacchan), the latter of whom is an English professor who will soon end up taking a hilarious fish-out-of-water role in the scheme.

And they're off! From there, the movie follows a few too many twists and turns all the way to an ending that is a tad bit too convenient and a tad bit too short.

The dialogue is well-written in "Chupke Chupke," making heavy use of double entendres that really add to the humor. Added to that is the fact that "jijaji" is a stickler for purity of language and so Parimal, posing as the chauffeur, makes sure to speak in Hindi so dignified that he has "jijaji" baffled any time he opens his mouth. (It's a dialogue technique that Mukherjee would later reuse in "Gol Maal.") Even though the movie drags out this joke a little too long and some might have trouble believing that dignified college professors can pull off such childish pranks, "Chupke Chupke" is entertaining and worth watching.

The hardest part of reviewing a remake is avoiding comparing it to the original. The same holds true here.

The story behind "12 Angry Men" is one of the greatest of our time and is a must-see for all, whether it is on stage, on TV, or in the movie theater. I personally think the 1957 original is the best made, but the fact that that was the first version I saw and that that is the "classic" version has probably made me a tad bit biased.

That all being said, this made-for-TV version of the story is done well. Unfortunately, it does, in every way, feel like a made-for-TV movie, which is unfortunate considering the immense talent pool of the cast (made up of everyone from old legends like George C. Scott, Ossie Davis, and Jack Lemmon to newer stars like Tony Danza, Courtney B. Vance, Mykelti Williamson, James Gandolfini, and Edward James Olmos). Each of these men is capable of doing a great deal more than they show in this movie. It feels almost like they are forcing themselves to act and so the performances are not believable. In short, nobody ever really gets "into character."

Part of the reason might be because so many of the actors do not personally reflect their characters. For example, Jack Lemmon and George C. Scott both look significantly older than "the old man" (Juror #9). Edward James Olmos is supposed to play "the foreigner," but Armin Mueller-Stahl, the man playing the wealthy and dignified Juror #4, speaks with a very noticeable German accent.

Even though I wanted to avoid it, I think I will do a point-by-point critique of the actors' performances based on how their characters were designed and based, somewhat, on the nearly flawless performances in the 1957 classic: Juror #1 - Courtney B. Vance does a fairly good job, but his delivery is not very natural at all. Juror #2 - Ossie Davis is a very talented actor and plays his role well. The only possible bone I have to pick is that his character is supposed to be a meek young man, whereas Ossie Davis plays as a meek, older man. Juror #3 - George C. Scott is an acting legend and plays the character as well, though he plays the role very angrily and, I think, not sarcastically enough. In some places, he overdoes it. But still, I can see Lee J. Cobb's performance in him. Juror #4 - Well done performance by Armin Mueller-Stahl; just the accent issue. Juror #5 - Dorian Harewood, another good actor. Problem: his character is supposed to start off shy and slowly gain some aggression. Harewood's character is aggressive from the get-go. Juror #6 - James Gandolfini plays his part well. Not much to criticize. Juror #7 - Not bad, Tony Danza. Jack Warden, we must admit, is much better at playing a loud-mouth like Juror #7 than Tony Danza, partly because Warden speaks so loudly anyway. Juror #8 - Jack Lemmon is another acting legend, but his acting here seems tired and forced. It's not as natural as Henry Fonda's performance in the classic version. Juror #9 - The "old man" is not old enough, plain and simple. (Actually, his age is fine. It's just that everyone else is too old and it makes him look young.) Juror #10 - Okay, Mykelti Williamson simply does not cut it when it comes to Ed Begley's original, hateful bigot. Williamson plays more of a I'm-mad-at-the-whole-world-just-because character than a bigot. Juror #11 - Awesome job by Edward James Olmos, comparable to the original. Juror #12 - Also a fairly good job by William Petersen (of "CSI" fame). Again, not as good as Robert Webber's original, but still good.

Okay, I didn't want to have to do that, but I did. So sue me. :)

Now that I've shown that this version does not compare with the original, I will compliment it enough to say that it is still worth watching. It features a class of good albeit under-used actors and the story is the most important part. The exploration of humanity and the jury process and our biases and human nature and so much more can all be seen in the story of "12 Angry Men."

There's a disclaimer at the beginning of "Asoka" that says that the film is not meant to be a fact-based historical retelling of the life of the great ancient Indian emperor Ashok but rather "an attempt to follow his journey."

From that, we're supposed to get the impression that the filmmakers probably took a few liberties with the facts while making this film. Okay, that's fine. But, as it turns out that "attempt to follow his journey" is a pathetic attempt at best.

From a historical standpoint, the film is hopelessly flawed. I would have thought that if they were going to spend so much time and money on historically accurate sets and historically accurate props and even historically-accurate-sounding dialogue that they would at least *try* to be historically accurate in telling the story. But, as it turns out "taking a few liberties" with historical facts means simply scrapping them, writing a cheap story to replace them, and then using the historical context to sell the story.

But, to be fair to the film, I'll try to judge it as a film and not as a dramatization of history.

Even if we ignore the fact that this film ignores historical facts completely and even if we ignore the fact that women in ancient India most definitely did not wear tube-tops and mini-skirts (as almost all the women in this film do) and even if we ignore the fact that ancient India did not have nightclubs or, for that matter, techno music (whereas this film features a nice little scene in a nightclub with a stripper-like dancer on stage singing a techno song), EVEN THEN this film offers little.

The plot is convoluted and slapped together in an attempt to create a story. The songs are out-of-place, annoying, and laughably ridiculous. The talents of the actors are wasted. The characters do not fit their roles or the storyline. This is not Ashok we see on screen; this is Shah Rukh Khan, switching back and forth like a tennis ball, from a ruthless commander-in-chief to a clown to a Devdas-like melodramatic bum back to a ruthless commander-in-chief to a man at peace with himself and the world. For someone who might say that Shah Rukh Khan gives "a performance of a lifetime" in this film, I must say I agree. The character of Ashok is a horrendous mixture of almost every character Shah Rukh Khan has portrayed in his lifetime. It's like filmmakers took all of his characters, stuffed them in the blender and pressed "liquefy." The result is a pathetic excuse for a character.

"Ramayan" is an epic. "Mahabharat" is an epic. "Star Wars" is an epic. "The Lord of the Rings" is an epic. "Asoka" is an epic disaster.

In the modern day of high-tech special effects and digital sound, a film like "The Terminator" can seem a bit outdated and even cheesy. I must admit that I only really started to appreciate it after watching it the third time. (Mind you, the first time was when I was 12, before I was old enough to appreciate anything, and the second time was one week after I saw "Terminator 2: Judgment Day," which somewhat spoiled me with its awesome CGI effects.)

What gives this film greatness is not its action or effects, both of which are representative of the style of the 1980's, a style that is not as effective today. The greatness of "The Terminator" comes from its ingenious storyline. Sure, any fool could create a story about a robot from the future coming back to kill someone. But that is a serious oversimplification of this film. The storyline that it develops about the nuclear war that will occur in our future and the machines taking over and all of that are all sci-fi genius. The basic elements that are laid out in this film are later elaborated on and solidified in "Terminator 2" (and, to a lesser extent, in "Terminator 3").

This film not only set Arnold Schwarzenegger's career on its course but started a new era of science fiction and initiated the saga of a bleak and not-so-impossible future for humanity.

Many people, particularly Indians, find this film offensive and racist. Admittedly, when I first saw it, I, too, found it such. Accordingly, at the time, I wrote a very harsh and angry review. In retrospect, though, I should have restrained myself. So, in fairness to the film, here is my review of it.

This film starts off very well. I particularly liked the introduction of the character of Short Round and I wish I could have seen him in the other Indy films.

That being said, the film soon develops into an adventure story that, quite frankly, could have been so much better. The thrills and "treasure hunt" feeling that we feel in "Raiders of the Lost Ark" or in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" is simply not here. The Nazis, also, make for much better villains than the evil priest, whose performance and wickedness are quite laughable.

I have a relatively strong stomach when it comes to the gross-out factor. I saw "Seven" without flinching, though, admittedly, it is not the most disturbing movie in the world. However, I should warn those of you with weak stomachs to be careful before watching this film. It seems to go out of its way to increase the gross-out factor, with people eating snakes and monkey brains, another scene that lasts a good 5 to 7 minutes with Kate Capshaw surrounded by giant insects (including centipedes very eager to go up her pants), and a man's beating heart being pulled out his chest.

Speaking of which, this film relies much more on the supernatural than the other Indy films. By that, I mean there's the ceremony where the evil priest "magically" opens the guy's chest and pulls out the beating heart (and the man is still alive) and another where the young king uses a voodoo doll against Indy. While the use of the supernatural is interesting, it's a tad bit excessive in this film. The other two do a better job balancing the real with the supernatural.

I realize that my entire review here has been how this film does not measure up against the other two, but that's how most of us judge sequels, whether we admit it or not. It's not possible to really be unbiased when watching a sequel because the other films have already set a standard for us to judge it by. So, in relation to the rest of the trilogy, this film is more like an Indy-wannabe than an Indy film. It does not really fit in with the other two.

Though this film probably bears more resemblance to the original novel than any other film version, a movie called BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA should remain relatively faithful to the original story.

This film starts with the story of Vlad the Impaler, a sequence that is filmed well and gives a context for the story. After that, it starts where Bram Stoker starts the novel and for about twenty or so minutes, is faithful. Though Keanu Reeves clearly cannot do a British accent, this portion of the film is done well.

But then, things start to change. The novel and the film start to go their separate ways. The novel provides a motive for Dracula's desire to go to England; the film does not. There is also absolutely nothing resembling a love story in the novel, but considering that this film is made by Francis Ford Coppola, I am not surprised that there is one in the film.

I don't mind Coppola changing the story, though I wish he had picked some other title if he was going to do that. Where this film fails is in the ability to tell that story.

This film depicts a series of events that have very little linking them. If I had not read the novel right before watching this film, I would surely have been lost. Things happen, but we don't really know why or how. The best example I can think of for this is Arthur's change from a complete skeptic to a vampire hunter in less than five minutes. The film also makes heavy use of superimposed and flashing imagery that confused me as to what was real, what was dreamed, what was imagined, and what was "real but unreal."

This brings me to one of the strengths of the film. The depiction of the Gothic environment and terrifying moments of the story are laden with special effects. This, at the same time, is one of the film's flaws. The subtlety of the Dracula story and its many aspects--the hints towards the vampire's true nature, the transformation of Lucy, and the sexual innuendos--are lost. There is nothing subtle about this film, especially with the sexuality.

There is no doubt that one of the keys to the Dracula story is its sexual overtones. The bite of a vampire is, in many ways, a form of rape. But this film depicts the concept so explicitly that it loses the mysterious and Gothic mood. (Mina is probably the only female character we do not see topless.)

The same holds true for the film's depiction of blood. Blood, the root of the vampire, is also shown so frequently and in such high quantities that its subtle and mysterious nature is lost.

There are certain things that are true strengths for the film. I happen to really like one scene where a vampire is destroyed with the standard stake-through-the-heart with decapitation. In this scene, the vampire is decapitated, the head goes flying, and the scene immediately cuts to a dinner scene. A flying decapitated head is juxtaposed with roast beef. Enough to make you go vegetarian, no?

Also, even though the love story does not hold much as a story, it has a very fitting and suitable ending with heavy religious overtones. It tries to end the way it begins, and though it doesn't succeed, it gets pretty close.

As far as the characters go, I don't know what to say. None of them are developed, except maybe Dracula. It's hard to discuss characters or even care for them when we know so little about them from the way they are depicted. From what I saw, I can say the following: Van Helsing is an eccentric and unrealistically well-versed old man, Jonathan Harker is mute and weak (and suffers from unexplained hair color loss), Lucy is a playful and somewhat rebellious young lady, Mina is slightly uptight and very seduceable (is that a word?), and Dracula is an extremely emotional tragic villain (that's right, I feel sorry for the monster).

I still hope for the day when a film will be made that depicts Bram Stoker's novel faithfully. Until then, this film is the closest thing to it, but it's still far enough away that I don't think it deserves to bear the name of Dracula.