Reviews

They say the script makes the film, however this adaptation maybe should have stayed unadapted. Or punch up the script in some way? Because this movie while pretty in production value was just terrible (hence TAROT-ble, get it?). Look, the premise is fine, but the unspooling narrative rolls ridiculous from not scary jump scares to silly stop frames in an elevator no less unintentionally echoing the hilarious Tom Hanks SNL Halloween character David S. Pumpkins. And the ending? WTF. What has happened to horror? I was hoping for an OG Nightmare on Elm Street end grab of maybe it's over, maybe it's not. But no. This sad film. Watch if you must, but blerg.

Seriously WTF. I like Statham, and I like dumb movies but this one is a hive too far. DO NOT WASTE YOUR TIME. Plenty of bad movies I love to rewatch, but stink stank stunk, my friends. The premise itself could have worked however the unfolding story just clips along super nonsensically. Super. Nonsense. And it all goes to the script. Like this must have been a rough, ROUGH first draft and left to just go to production. In short, I am certain there will be a sequel, but OMG I hope not. ALSO, dying ones beard at his age is super funny. Eminem, Fallon, Statham - - - you're all on notice. If you make a silly movie, at least try to look less silly.

It's difficult to imagine a musical landscape without the contributions of Pavement, but then it's easily as difficult to imagine if Pavement would have ever been Pavement without Gary Young. Look, if you don't know Pavement then I you did the 90s wrong. But that's ok, start now. And this rock doc gives you the straight dope for real, the good, the bad, and the ugly that some artists indelibly navigate from cradle to grave their wiggles, their warmth, and their demons. Addiction takes many forms, and the portrait woven here will pull you. Gary seemingly had a huge heart, wild talent, and full flame flew through his love and art. Indelibly indelible.

Yowie-yow-yow.

Naturalized New Orleanian here, and once again Mr Fincher gives the world the straight dope of what the city is really like (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button should you regrettably be unintiated). Bless you, Mr David. Honestly, so refreshing to have it portrayed so plainly for what it is. But The Killer is so much more than one locale - - - Fassbender. With voiceover. Elegant. Just aces really. The spool of his character's path reveals and reveals. You don't really know what to expect other than maybe another song by The Smiths, but not egregiously so. It's low key woven in. But honestly the aliases gave me the most joy, so pay attention. And if you don't know American television then these barbs will fly by you, sadly.

Maybe prescient is the word I'm circling around here? Enter a very French tale about the future imperfect, amounting to more or less an environmental horror yarn evoking those 1970s nature run amuck flicks. The cinematography and editing grab and grip, especially the intro, vibrating almost with a sense of January 6 chaos. But as the tale reveals it's a survive-if-you-can story of fractured family amid a fractured world and Mother Nature will have her day on Anvers! Or something. The narrative traipses plausible ish, and the effects come across as not so unbelievable. My kingdom for a concrete bunker already!

Delphine and Francoise are restless, but then aren't all late 1960s private school French ingenues? Welcome to 'La Morsure,' a foray into their lives taking place largely outside the city limits at a not so wee maison over the course of Ash Wednesday night.

The chemistry between the girls gels, and their journey practically vibrates off the the silver screen, in large part due to the awesome soundtrack a la 45s at the party they attend. Then there's the choice design in hair, makeup, and clothing.

As the girls' evening unfolds there's much to digest and consider, not the least of the which is the smoldering gaze of Francoise. Hold on to your Gauloises and buckle up for pseudo broody teen angst tinged in maybe premonitions! You will be smitten for 'Bitten.'

Let's say you wake up one day and the reality you thought you had known wasn't exactly reflective of the present state of things. That's this movie. You follow a young woman to her grandparents home where, well, things aren't what they appear to be. Despite outward appearances the truth reveals, layer by layer.

What transpires is almost like a Twilight Zone episode set in a smallish village of present day Japan. It's a bit of a rabbit hole. There are comedic moments, there are graphic moments of fire, others of blood, and all the while there's a curious protagonist soaking it all in, just trying to make it all make sense. It's a bit of a rambler.

Let me preface this review by stating I have 4 daughters, all under the age of the primary character, so as the narrative plays out my thoughts simmer in what I can only imagine a young woman's experience is like in any country in the 21st century.

Mothers and daughters the world over I presume can indentify to oh so many elements here. Creepy uncles, disjointed dialogues, when twenty somethings have to parent the parent, then there's academic expectations and the topper of them all the uncertainties of life unions and or otherwise potential romances. It's almost too relatable.

In short? Men. Who needs us?

Omen offers a lot if you let it. Baloji brings a consistent care and engagement in his framework and direction that draws you in, even when you may be sort of circling around what exactly is this story trying to tell me. Because there are threads that unfurl hither and yon. At its heart there resonates a struggle in familial indentities that I presume most viewers can or may in one way or another draw parallels to their own lives. We all come from somewhere, and who we become and how can matter. Beyond the story the rich visuals ground the screen whether kinetic street theater in rhythmic brass and drums, pseudo wrestling or quiet family dinner table convo. Other sequences bring a lure of color, light and curiosity if it is a dream sequence, a memory or ? In the end Baloji transports us to places at once foreign and familiar with quiet confidence and engaging choices.

I had the good fortune of seeing this at Sitges Film Festival today, and it delivers. In my experience the Spanish like their horror layered in religion, blood, nuns, blood, self-harm, long psychological turns, blood, religion, harm, and to top it all off add in a narrative of historical reference and voila! To me, it's like there should be a whole other category labeled S-Horror akin to K-Pop or J-Horror. But to the matter at hand!

I loved La Abuela, so have a hard time seeing its rating reaching only 5.9!? To be sure Paco Plaza this time around keeps Sister Death firing on all pistons. The black and white (white and black, if we are being Spanish Spanish) archival elements opening and closing, the completely believable religious environments, and the stupendous set design. Mwah, chef's kiss.

But let's talk SCREAMS. Aria Bedmar may just be the newest Scream Queen. My mind rushed with Linnea Quigley, again and again. And really, I wasn't expecting it, because should I have? Maybe. But man oh man it resonates, along with all the play on sight, eyes, and general ocular type things. Which for the record is not a spolier, just look at the movie poster.

In short, kudos to Plaza on another genuinely engaging horrific (in a good way) romp, give it a go -

Are we reinventing the wheel here? A little, and by what little this first episode reveals. But it's good, if not great. You have a lot of similar material to either align or distance yourself from, but mostly, the balance this episode brings for 2003 v 2023 it presents an ample measure of believability, motivation and intrigue. Production wise no ones hair, make-up or clothing is too done, the sets look legit, even the scenes in Austin (I used to live in Austin) I was like yeah, that looks like Austin (and maybe it was filmed there, Idk). For me now in my late 40s it evoked memories of 80s tv wonder in V (sans lizard people / spaceships), World War Z, and maybe even a little Mad Max. Solid cast, engaging story unfurling, looking forward to watching each week.

How this endeavor has garnered positive attention just smacks as to the engine of the masses being asses. This thing bloats its way via very predictable narrative to inevitable non-conclusion. And for what?

The paper thin story dressed up in all its CGI remains that same paper thin rambler. No amount of window dressing can foster interest in any of these unremarkable characters. You. Will. Yawn. A lot.

Cameron's heydays have come and sadly gone, so why the emperor's new clothes treatment here? No idea. And there's more sequels in the pipeline? Why!? Save your precious time, and avoid this sequel.

Production value is aces. Everything else? Hard pass, hence the deuce.

Do you know your Soderbergh? Apart from the Oceans trilogy I mean. In the world of American auteur cinema he keeps his stats on the plus side, and "Kimi" flexes where Soderbergh really dwells: the unassuming.

It's the long pauses, the sharp edits, the navigation of sound and sounds, and the hurly burly kinetics of the action scenes. This is not a quiet film so much as an exploration into the post pandemic reveal of what we are now paired in a mildly plausible narrative. It is a movie after all, an escape, not meant entirely for plausibility. That said, everything that takes place in the movie could totally happen.

Give this one a go. It's engaging, it's got a flash of Seattle, but its homerun is Zoe bringing the weight. Huzzah!

Time is finite, archives are what one makes of them, and child parent relationships vary by example. The Downeys exemplify this. And kudos to Jr for making "Sr," because it is a gem.

The forest view that RDJ provides of his father in his twilight years is as much a love language and path to understanding as it is a finessed effort to balance and setting the bar of creativity and life's imperfections for his own children.

Plus it's in black & white. Mostly. The self-aware choice of b & w elevates the subject imo, and truly provides a greater measure of reverence and artistry.

This documentary is the best example of following your art, following your heart, and never stop pursuing the next opportunity. Film, family, self-reflection.

In 1993 this piece of cinema surfaced as an absolute delight, however now well into the 2020s it has tarnished into veritable functional obsolescence.

The cast? Can't beat it.

And some of the exchanges and dialogue too, yes.

But the premise? A comic book store / kung fu film nerd magically falls for the one and done short lived life of a prostitute while seeking to parlay illegal stolen goods - - - what!?

The script stinks, Arquette's paperthin arc flounders implausibly, and Slater just slaters.

In short, if you'd like a succinct survey in what the 90s glorified then sit through this, but don't say you weren't warned.

Sure, sure, we all have wonderful recollections of the early aughts with the heyday of Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn fresh faced with quirky quips for the millenium, but I'm telling you this is a fizzler. Specifically: the story. Awful. Just dreadful. The arc of the characters to forgive and forget over their historic baseless shenanigans. I get suspension of disbelief remains the common element to fiction and film, but enough. The premise is as lame as a throwback stinker I had the misfortune of sitting through recently in Fred Estaire's "Royal Wedding" about 2 sibling unbetrothed dance partners invited to perform at - you guessed it - a royal wedding, only to walk away moments after said wedding getting married to people they'd only recently met. Wtf! Ten kinds of nope. The only redeeming quality of "Wedding Crashers" is the witty barbs Vaughn consistently brings, however they aren't enough to prop up this tired trope to see its way to a timeless classic. Sadly this matrimonial missive ultimately misfires.

I love 80s post apocalyptic fare, from the low budget to the tent pole blockbusters, but this one falls just shy of being reasonably entertaining. It has a lot of pluses with the sets, setting, and overall snapshot of edgier 80s punk, grit, what have you, however the story just muddles. Imagine a Cherry 3000 meets Mad Max less a story with any real conflict or sense of self, then pepper in some nonsensical protagonist actions that goes from one long drawn out scene to another and bam you're there. Look, the 80s had some moments cinematically, but this isn't one of them. Snoozer? Almost definitely.