Reviews

I sat there in the dark when the last shot transitioned to blackout followed by the first credit appearing: "DIRECTED BY CHRISTOPHER NOLAN." And I didn't have the same or even remotely similar sinking feeling followed with audible laughter I did back when I saw "Memento" with its famous closing line. I know you cannot re-invent the wheel, but why-- why does everybody have a h#@$-on for everything this man does? "The Dark Knight." "The Prestige." Is anybody going to ever tell this man that he's not Stanley Kubrick? Or does he surround himself with yes-men the same way that George Lucas does? He hasn't graduated from the James Cameron School of Arrogance yet (hoping that he never attends). I didn't think that this was a bad film- it wasn't a typical run-of-the-mill Hollywood drecks you see week, but it wasn't that good either. Even though Steven Spielberg's "Minority Report" started to lose its way towards the end, it was more entertaining and "thought-provoking" at times than this. I won't even get into the plot since so many other posters already have, and I know I'll be shot down for voicing any more criticism over this "masterpiece," but I hope-- I REALLY, REALLY hope that Christopher Nolan will make another "Memento" again. Maybe even a sequel, but no more "Inception"s please.

Or maybe this could be subtitled as "the little movie that thought it was good…" …Or maybe I should re-phrase it as, "the little movie that tried too be good," or "the little movie that didn't know what it was"- the list can go on and on. But let's just say if it wasn't for Thomas Haden Church serving as the executive producer in this, the movie wouldn't be where it is now: RELEASED.

It starts out mundane when we open with the titled character "Don McKay" (played by Church), doing his unremarkable duties as a high school janitor in Massachusetts (but probably filmed outside of L.A.). From there, he meets his supposed ex-girlfriend played by Elisabeth Shue who is dying from an unexplained condition. And of course, it never occurs to Church to ask why this attractive 40-something is dying when she doesn't even look sick or peaked. Doesn't that seem rather odd? It's weird to begin with in how Church goes up to see her in the first place (because that too, never seems to be explained)- and I don't want to edify the synopsis since this film is so mediocre and forgettable at the get-go. Let's just say that what seems to be somewhat of a quirky and pedestrian indie-film turns to switch to such a violent tone so abruptly, that it looks like two different films we're watching. And it's impossible to care for these characters or root for them in any way. But oh-well…

Then there's the recurring theme that Church has lost touch with all of these supporting characters for 25 years. And it's so coincidental that none of these people have lives- or moved on with families since high school- but then that would ruin the whole "plot" to the movie if they did, so we just need to accept this. What galls me is the fact that Church even did this in the first place: his career never really took off after "Sideways," but I've never seen him in a more or equally memorable role since. And he was one of the best things to that film, IMO. Elisabeth Shue does a little more than I've seen her do in most mainstream movies, but there's really nothing likable about her in this (except she wears a slip through a third of the film). I guess I liked Keith David the most who showed more dimensionality than anyone else (and probably had about seven minutes of screen time).

I'd just wait for this to come out on DVD. And I STILL wouldn't recommend it unless you absolutely, positively have to watch SOMETHING for 87 minutes.

Computer skills? Language skills? Math skills? The unintentionally funny line that I heard on the TV screen of coming attractions at Blockbuster made me want to rent this and see if that was just a one-time blunder. Nope. It wasn't plausible in any way and reminded me rather of a violent Lifetime movie. And that isn't a complete euphemism, I mean the casting and acting reminded me of Lifetime. I kept thinking, "why did Liam Neeson agree to do this? Didn't he learn from 'Star Wars: The Phantom Menace'?" I guess at the end of the day, it's all about paying the bills so you can live next month (or maybe in his case, the next YEAR). His daughter was way too old to be playing a convincing teenager. The karaoke machine vs. pony-for-a-birthday present is so played-out. His friends don't look like anything bouncers/security dudes at all (especially Leland Orser). Not to mention that they're so well-mannered when they're kicking back drinking and barbecuing- no swearing or anything! So far-fetched about tracing the bad guys voice over a cell phone. And shooting the French detective's wife- are we still supposed to root for this guy? He just shot an innocent woman. Is this to show us how "tough" and "ruthless" he is? Liam Neeson is no Bruce Willis or Steven Seagal (and I'm saying that because those guys are a helluva lot more convincing as action heroes than Neeson). But, oh well. I know there's an audience for this movie: look how much G#@damn money it made.

Brace yourself for a franchise.

When seeing the original 1982 release at ten years old, I remember it being exciting (since it was the very first rated R movie I saw in the theatres) ominous, and weird. Weird because it wasn't the Indiana Jones/ Han Solo flick that I was secretly expecting; and weird because there was something that compelled me to the film with every viewing. It was something I never talked about to anyone else around me because it just wasn't "cool" to like since it wasn't a box office suck-sess or simply because it was a mature film. The dialogue, the humor and most of the film's themes are just not "Star Wars"-y and black and white. The bad guys are not necessarily that bad, and the good guys aren't all that likable, and the film itself is not riddled with hope like popcorn flicks are. After leaving the theatre, I remember looking at the landscape differently and asking myself just how much believability was in that film. Living in L.A. at the time (since that was the film's location) made me pay even more attention to that idea. Throughout the years, whenever I would see any kinds of urban decay in buildings, I would immediately associate it this film and the impending despair of the future.

There were at least 45 minutes of deleted/alternate scenes that were compiled into a mini-film, and turned out to be interesting. Not to the point in where it surpassed the original film, but made you appreciate the finished original film by the end of it. There were also elements sprinkled throughout the outtakes that I remember were original ideas from the writers (namely Hampton Fancher's). Harrison Ford's voice-over narrated and was somewhat clichéd (to the point in where I began to enjoy the original voice-over in the film), and it reminded me of the director's cut of "Superman II" at times (yes, I am a cinegeek, ladies and gentlemen). I've watched this documentary at least four times now and I'm fascinated by it. The sets; the art direction; the actors and their stories: it brings back memories of the summer of '82 and the fall of '92 (when the director's cut was released). It's so inspiring to see thirtysomething filmmakers my age and see how moved by the movie like I was. But yes, I agree- this documentary can be quite boring to those non-fans out there and I don't think this is for everyone. However, the film itself never wowed me to the point in where I thought the film was religion. In the documentary, a fan states that "there are no casual 'Blade Runner' fans out there" before showing off her whole arm encompassed with tattoos of the movie's icons. Well, I have to pleasantly disagree. I think I AM a casual fan BECAUSE I don't riddle my arm in unsightly green and orange hues that's on the same level of those crazed "Star Wars" fans who get the Millennium Falcon or stormtroopers stenciled to their appendages.

I really, really wanted to like this movie, but THIS is what happens when you get a script written by the Spielberg/Lucas/Ford/______ committee. A mess. Of course when the stupid CGI gopher is coming out of the mound right after the Paramount logo, I should have known that this movie wasn't Lucas-proof. Indy and Marion getting married at the end (oh, how original) and that Tarzan-thing with Shia was just stupid. But I liked the first twenty minutes following the gopher-incident, and I didn't find the extra-terrestrial aspect completely appalling, being that some scientists believed that there was a possible presence with E.T.s in the Mayan and Incan civilization. But the whole spaceship-thing at the end? What happened here? Well, enough of that...

I found Cate Blanchet good in her role- she definitely wasn't miscast. Shia LeBeouf was all right, but I didn't think Karen Allen was as spunky as she was in "Raiders." As a matter of fact, this movie was nowhere near in the "Raiders" ballpark. I think that Lucas and Spielberg resigned themselves to the fact that Larry Kasdan is gone, and that their ongoing films will never spark the magic the first one did because of his help. And hearing how Lucas wants to grind sh** into the ground and have Shia take on the Indiana role (hmmm…what a surprise) IS appalling. But the movie had its moments: aside from the first twenty minutes and the Ark accidentally revealed (was that the MacGuffin Lucas boasted about?), there were reasonable action scenes (with the exception of the triple waterfalls). But that's exactly the point: I could not fully enjoy this movie and suspend the world around me for two hours like I did with the first one BECAUSE there were these exceptions which seemed to occur on an average of every two to five minutes. Just when I was starting to get into the film, something outrageous or implausible had to happen. Instead, I shook my head just like my old man did when he took me to see "Temple of Doom" when I was twelve. Guess that's the Lucasberg way.

The dialogue was nowhere memorable- just like "Temple of Doom"'s, and this movie makes me appreciate "The Last Crusade" more (which ironically WASN'T one of my faves in the franchise). However, I liked the fact that the Soviets were the bad guys in this (and I thought that Spielberg was going to instead make it a group of renegade neo-Nazis or something). And the whole Red Menace-thing in the age of McCarthyism was another aspect that I found plausible. Indiana's character grew, but he didn't calcify, and that's what makes Harrison Ford the only man on the planet who can play this character. But after three not-so-great sequels that were spawned, I think it's time for Ford to hang up his hat and whip before his whip hits him in the a$$ again.

Probably one of the most anti-climatic cinematic murder/death/kills in recent years that I've seen, yet simultaneously realistic and haunting. I mean, really: what could you do to stay alive if your hands were tied while gagged at the same time when thrown into a lake/estuary? Naomi Watts, Tim Roth, Michael Pitt and Brady Corbett (effectively creepy from the moment they appear outside the door) all give a disturbing, unsettling, realistic and I must admit, a very entertaining hour and forty-seven minutes of a performance that absolutely goes nowhere (as if it were a slice of violence rather than life), providing the viewer with a ridiculous hope-deficit. I never heard of the original film when this remake came out and knowing that it was made exactly like Gus Van Sandt's 1998 "Psycho" remake, I have no desire to see it, either. The film felt somewhat like a foreign film in the way it was photographed and the opening titles. But that was good that the director stuck to his guns because if it were tailored for an American audience, the movie would of taken a turn for the implausible worst by the middle of the film. Test audiences would be offended by the story's outcome, so the filmmakers would scurry and slap on a ridiculous new cookie-cutter-type conclusion beginning where Tim Roth pleads to Naomi Watts forgive him. From there if it were Americanized, the perps and Tim would probably be in on a conspiracy in where the son is killed and then they kill Naomi and then split the insurance money that they collect three ways and then meet up in Bermuda or something ridiculous like that. The usual greed conspiracies that are standard in American film formulas these days, which is very possible/probable. Somewhere in the last fifteen years, audiences seem to have dominated a film's destiny and it wouldn't surprise me if European audiences were not as judging or fickle. Director Michel Haneke dismisses the fact that a grim remake of this film wouldn't necessarily appeal to American audiences, and being mindful of that, he cleverly casts a siren like Watts; a versatile and entertaining character-actor like Roth; an unknown who is neither a ham or annoying child actor to play their son; a sinister creep like Michael Pitt and his sidekick Brady Corbett who as an ensemble, propel the film from beginning to end. What's more, is that the "kids" kill these affluent families one after another, and we see their first victims from a distance deep behind their front gate with Pitt and Corbett in tow, mirroring as to what Watts, Roth and son will be within an hour or so from that point. And when Watts rendezvous with her friend after some time from her abduction, as the viewer you have an idea that the character will return again in the film's duration. When I saw her at the end, I was waiting for Watts to miraculously recover from being tossed aside like an infinitesimal piece of trash from the boat but didn't. Instead, the film ends with almost how it begins. Eggs, anyone? It is not to say that I didn't find the film without flaws: I didn't like how Michael Pitt broke the fourth wall in the middle of the film (and for me, I re-entered reality at this point and slowly began to doubt the film). Also- what were Pitt and Corbett's motives? Is it true what they said earlier about robbing rich people and then murdering them? And did they ever sleep since Watts and her family were the second set of victims (for all we know as an audience) in their blood-fest marathon? And why is there the cliché that all rich people like to listen to classical music (as another poster cites as well)? Still, even though the film offered little redeeming (if any) qualities to it, it is still haunting to me let alone watching repeat viewings. Not necessarily a movie I would buy as soon as it were released onto DVD, yet I'm secretly curious to watch the special features.

I saw this in the theatres twice because I knew it was going to be pulled due to lagging box-office sales. People (especially those born in the early 1980s and up) would not appreciate let alone understand this film as much as a Gen X'er like myself (I saw so many younger people walk out after about a half-an-hour into it), with it being purposely "aged" showing the scratches, cigarette burns, jumpy and rough quick-cuts, garbled soundtrack and so forth to maintain the integrity of the B-movies that I always heard of as a kid but was forbidden to see because of my age at the time. These films crossed over into the straight-to-video category in the late eighties up to today, where these imperfections were next to devoid and the only similar qualities were unknowns and has-beens who were cast and silly dialogue and story to go with.

Robert Rodriguez preserved and emulated the B-movie with the first featurette of the double-bill, "Planet Terror" to a tee, equipt with purposely bad dialogue, bad acting, missing reels, cheesy special effects, stupid storyline and music along with the second vignette, Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof." "Death Proof" possesses the alternate qualities of the B-movies in the early 1970s, including altered title-cards, un-matching music cues and tedious and extraneous scenes (which always kept you bored and anxious) that built up to a somewhat-reasonable climatic ending.

The best parts of the film were actually the false trailers that were shown at the beginning and in between the features, which consisted of the same ensemble of actors who were used in both vignettes. The acting was so bad, it was good and I would laugh out loud to myself every time they were shown. The trailers were horribly memorable with titles like "Machete" (with the tagline saying: "They Just f*$ked with the wrong Mexican"); "Werewolf Women of the S.S." (with Nicholas Cage); "Don't" and "Thanksgiving" which homage'd films like "Halloween," "Dawn of the Dead" (both originals) and the Hammer Horror series in the U.K..

Suffice to say, because of the fact that this film was not well-received by audiences when released in theatres, the distributors had it "cut" into two feature films with added scenes to lengthen the running time, and keep the picture completely from submerging itself. But doing so has robbed us all from the whole cinematic experience that Rodriguez, Tarantino and team were able to preserve with the help of today's technology. Now with two separate films, die-hard "Grindhouse" fans will never look at "Planet Terror" and "Death Proof" the same way again, and when seeing them apart, I miss this film even more.

I cannot believe the previous posters who actually liked this film! The beginning is typically slow and what I was expecting to be a complicated but subliminally powerful and thought-provoking film was instead very monotonous, pedestrian and uninspired piece of...film-making. The acting wasn't bad: Chris Cooper is good in anything he does although he seems to take on the same kinds of roles ("American Beauty," "Jarhead"). Ryan Phillippe isn't THAT bad of an actor -he's no Hayden Christensen, and Laura Linney is just Laura Linney like she was working through the wee hours of the night in this movie. But BECAUSE those caliber of actors were in this film, I felt interested in watching it through.

My problem was began with the overall plot: the Soviet Union fell in 1991 and this story takes place in 2000/2001. The Soviets weren't the threat that they were back in the 1980s and beforehand, so it makes me wonder if the real Robert Hansenn sold secrets to whomever was really willing to buy them rather than the former Evil Empire. So the writers may have felt that if they fingered the most obvious of bad guys (since the Nazis have been pretty much used-up in movie formulas), it would make a few bucks more as opposed to modern-day terrorists. The "sexual deviancy" problem seemed interesting to me at first when I saw the trailers, thinking that Chris Cooper's character was a closet-pedophile or a chickenhawk or something. Turns out that the guy was just a Catherine Zeta-Jones fan (like most other men) with a weird fetish of videotaping he and his wife having sex. OOOOHH !!! Scary! And at the end when he in fact does get caught, wouldn't the FBI agents want to go ahead and intercept the bag that he left underneath the bridge for the drop? Maybe it was more important to show him in the van admitting his guilt instead. The ending was curt and rather flat, I didn't care at that point. I just felt that I could of had a better time playing "Spy Hunter" for two hours than watching that! I know that there is an audience for this film- reading the previous comments, and seeing the IMDb rating tells me that this film was redeeming in its own special way. Whatever.

I could name half-a-dozen better spy flicks than this. This seems to go into the category with the "Most Un-Inspired Espionage Flicks of the Twenty-First Century". Runner-up to "The Good Shepard/Good German."

I would watch this show in passing when my wife would DV-R/ TiVO it, watching it all wide-eyed and transfixed. I don't know what makes me more sick- watching these shallow bimbo and himbos, or watching my wife watch it and wonder if she secretly admires these people and their lifestyles. Their kids are all spoiled and disrespectful to the point where I want to slap the taste from their mouths; the women, the men and "children" are narcissistic and I cannot relate to them. They have no values and this just tells me that when one acquires that much wealth, this is the result. These exclusive and sheltered people who think that Coto de Caza is the center of the world have no qualms about being rich and spoiled. They never address how they would like to help out or donate to charities out the goodness of their steel-cold hearts. I never see the parents or grandparents of these families on this show. I would hear sound-bytes from them saying, "...I think that the country will definitely learn from us and see how families really are over here..." It's so arrogant for one thing (I think that she takes notes whenever watching our president make his self-righteous speeches), and for another, people in other parts of the world think that this is how American families live, act and operate (shows like "Wifeswap," "Supernanny" are the other dark horses in the running when it comes to this).

I gave this two stars because of the multiple characters and that they switch families quickly and just in time before I get a chance to get bored of hearing how bored upon bored this woman is, or that woman is. Or how this married woman "needs a boyfriend" But believe me, what is already there is plentiful and too much. I have no sympathy or empathy for these self-centered people no matter how dysfunctional they are. I just shrug my shoulders and apathetically say "that's too f*$king bad."

Samuel L. Jackson was awesome again- reminded me of the days in where he really got into the gritty kernel of a performance instead of safely switching onto auto-pilot these days and being just another decent name-actor-for-hire. Christina Ricci reminded me a lot of Reese Witherspoon's character in "Freeway," and Justin Timberlake…well, he should just stick to singing because he has no business acting. S. Epatha Merkerson and Jackson had nice chemistry together and the cinematography was well done. There was one continuous shot for about three minutes that kept the film's momentum going. It was not overkilled like in some independent films these days and was only a third of the length of continuous opening shots as in "Boogie Nights" or "The Player." The dialogue wasn't memorable but neither was it bad and the nudity was not gratuitous enough to the point of offensiveness.

But this movie is very slow and loses steam after Jackson unchains Ricci after what seems to be an over-long first hour. From there, it's pretty much something that could be on Lifetime if they toned down the language and probably deleted the whole scene with Samuel's blues gig and Ricci's slutty dancing. The movie just really seemed like it went nowhere. The film begins with a bang (literally) and has its rising drama with Ricci having sex with an African-American and then getting ripped at a party when she has sex with…someone. When Jackson takes her under his wing, the film begins to slow down but I was waiting for something raw or controversial to happen (like a sixty-year-old shagging a twentysomething of mixed races) or S. Epatha walking in on them when bringing some more cough medicine to Jackson or something. But it didn't. I didn't gasp when Timberlake returned (well, who would?) or when he found out his friend schtumpted Ricci. Actually, there wasn't any real suspense to the film and it was followed by an anti-climatic resolution and an ending that made you shake your head rather than scratching it.

There have been so many reviews on this site praising this film and I think that it is getting so much fanfare because of the embedded charms: Mr. Jackson's performance, the dialogue, the Southern setting, the image of the seventies exploitation films and possibly Ms. Ricci's body. Aside from that, Craig Brewer has made a decent follow-up to his first film, "Hustle & Flow," and his subject-matter seems to be patently subversive but always with depth. But there was just not enough material to make me go, "oooohhh" and "awwwww." The movie reminded me a little of 2000's forgettable indie, "The Gift," in where it was set in the South and it was interesting in spots, but ultimately it was a bore. I didn't necessarily want my $9.50 back but I definitely wanted my time and could have been doing other things than sitting through that for two hours.

Harrison Ford started out with a great career playing charismatic characters such as Han Solo, Indiana Jones and Rick Deckard, but then in the nineties his roles transposed into sluggish caricatures with forgettable films like "Regarding Henry," "Patriot Games" and "Clear and Present Danger," the re-make of 1941's "Sabrina," "The Devil's Own," "Air Force One." "Six Days and Seven Nights," and the abysmal "Hollywood Homicide" were Ford's attempts at humor (which he has mediocre comic timing). "Firewall" is Ford's first film since the box office flop "Hollywood Homicide" (which a younger actor should have been cast for his role, by the way) and it ain't much better. All of the actors do a decent job if one wants to compare them to "Lifetime"-channel actors. The film-making is acceptable but nothing special, and most of all this film is not at all original in terms of its premise. There have been a slew of films beforehand about the innocent, attractive, affluent family in which the father is always a banking officer/executive that happen get taken hostage by some thugs for in exchange for acquiring money through that same bank. 1990's "Desperate Hours" comes to mind the more I reflect and write about this film.

Paul Bettany (who has a Stingesque quality about him) is one of the film's biggest assets and I have never seen him do a poor job in each film that he's been in since 2001's "A Beautiful Mind." Robert Patrick (who has not aged well since his breakthrough role as the T-1000 in "Terminator 2") plays Ford's nemesis at his job as a prestigious bank security director, and Mary Lynn Rasjakub from "24" reprises her role from that very same show onto the big screen, crossing over as his secretary. Harrison is married to attractive Virginia Madsen who looks about twenty years younger than him, and his children are old enough to be his grandchildren in real life. A handful of leading actors have this problem in which they cannot (or will not) play men their own age (Michael Douglas and Nick Nolte are a few dark horses that come to mind), and Ford is becoming one of them likewise. He should take a risk and play someone over-the-hill or maybe not in the limelight but a co-star, or maybe a "grandfather" for once. But perhaps he does not have the range and he still thinks that he is forty; he is usually the same character in every movie he's in and he acts as if he had too much to drink or took one too many Quaaludes.

There are little surprises to this film- maybe instead they are progressive "upgrades" when you compare it to other inside-bank heist films. What working element in a film that came out back then is somehow borrowed and improved and then regurgitated back into this one. And it was all of these upgrades that made me continue to watch this film to its entirety (and also the fact that Ford was one of my favorite actors once upon a time). One thing I could never buy though was how computer-savvy Ford was in this film: I have always thought of him as an analog-type man, a meat-and-potatoes-type, so that was always an annoying obstacle. But I did I like how Bettany always kept control over things and those in that which he could not, and his cunningness after almost killing Ford's son with saying at him, "Are you all right there, big fella?" But my real question in this would be in the story's aftermath: how would Ford and his family get off free with the cops when all of the bad guys are killed (no material witnesses)? Virginia Madsen's voice was still on Forester's answering machine's tape. And Robert Forester had been killed with Ford's gun. If there are no bad guys around, are the cops just supposed to take Harrison and his family's word that they didn't commit any crimes and that the blood on their hands is really the villains' instead? The bad guys all wore gloves so there were no fingerprints, so no forcible entry could be detected. If I didn't know what happened to Ford's family, saw that there was a breach in the network at the bank, saw that there was a body at Ford's house ("Liam," or Nikolai what's-his-face), saw Robert Forester's body that was shot by Ford's gun, I would believe that Ford was the perp, too. And that is exactly how the villains orchestrated framing Ford, or actually, the writers of this film. Only did they not realize that they had written themselves into a gaping hole. Janet (Rasjakub) had only witnessed one side of the equation with Ford, and she magically took his side after he had fired her that same day from the bank. A lot of movies assume that we accept the fact that any mayhem will be arbitrarily dismissed by the authorities if there are no living villains left. That just means less mess to clean up, right?. And so it goes… "Firewall" was not a good film. Watch this movie when there is nothing else to watch on cable and you have about an-hour-and-a-half to kill. Or maybe less.

This was a nice ending to an over-tired franchise that lost its prime way back in the mid eighties. It was typical Rocky-sh*t: from the melodramatic score of Bill Conti laced within the same plot layout from the first two films; lots of melodramatic exposition leading up to a pretty routine match at the climax with the same bellicose boxing score each time; and slo-mo graphic boxing violence that leaves one scratching their head wondering how the MPAA overlooked this movie and slapped a "PG" rating on it instead of a "PG-13."

What made this film keep some appeal (being that it basked in nostalgia for so many scenes from the other movies) was its juxtaposition with past and current events. It also acknowledged its own flaws (reminiscing the past, a fiftysomething fighting after a twenty-year absence, even the sports commentators were as cynical as the public was to the mere thought of a film like this). Mason Dixon's character was overall pretty two-dimensional as was Dolph Lundgren's (from "Rocky IV'); as was Mr. T's. (from "Rocky III")- but those were traditions within the "Rocky" legacy (or franchise). Apollo Creed was probably two-and-a-half dimensions just like Rocky's character was.

"It Ain't Over til It's Over" was probably Stallone's mantra he recited to himself every day when this film was in production. He probably pitched that to every doubting studio exec when he asked for financing for the film. And when he needed a tagline for the movie poster, he probably thought, "hey, why not that?" He also knew the futility of this project (which was cleverly insinuated in euphemisms throughout the picture), but he still had some fun with it. An example was when he said that exact line to his boxing adversary, and Dixon asks, "what- is that from the eighties or something?" He replies with uncertainty saying: "Uh no, from the seventies I think." I think the fact that Stallone had not lost his sense of humor saved this film from being unbearable to watch.

As other posters cited that Stallone went out in dignity. True. He did. But when I exhale and think that that will forever be the last of the "Rocky" saga, a little sound-byte and video image goes off in my head when Stallone was on Arsenio Hall in the early nineties. Arsenio asked him after the defeat of "Rocky V," "Are there going to be any more 'Rocky's?" Stallone replied a quick, "No." I guess he was really saying, "Yo."

This film wasn't necessarily counter-programming to Mel Gibson's 2004 film which contained subtle anti-Semetic undertones, but it delivered a message that I paraphrase Daniel Craig with saying in the film: "Don't f#*k with the Jews." Steven Spielberg has shown a more mature style in his film-making since 1993s "Schindler's List," where he does not portray the story's villains as cartoonish, cardboard-cutouts as he did in 1981's "Raiders of the Lost Ark." He manages to capture and display not only the sheer ugliness of the violence, but the pointlessness and awkwardness it begets as well. Beginning with the disclaimer "inspired by actual events," the viewer witnesses events both real and staged of the massacre of the Munich Olympic Games in 1972. The aftermath is slow to begin with but picks up momentum and rising suspense at times after its second reel.

Eric Bana (from Ridley Scott's "Black Hawk Down") does an exceptional job as the Israeli assassination team's leader Avner Kaufman. The supporting members of the team including the future James Bond Daniel Craig are just as talented, and Geoffrey Rush plays the old salt of-a-boss with perfection. The movie intercuts occasionally with flashbacks of the massacre- progressively with more and more details until its finale. What intrigued me about this film so much was the accuracy of the details in the recreations that were matched so well to the actual terrorists in the documented footage. The Palestinian's terrorist leader actually did wear a white hat that resembled a pith helmet, and his deputy really wore a cowboy hat that was captured in the film as well. Even the mock-ups of the West German Hueys at the airport were accurate. Spielberg and his crew did their homework with this. There is a documentary on DVD called "One Day in September"(narrated by Michael Douglas) which recalls a play-by-play account of the tragedy of the Munich Games as well as the arrogance of the Olympic Committee, and the incompetence of the West German anti-terrorist command. Before a viewer criticizes the length of the film or its melodrama, rent this video first and then proceed with a critique.

I gave this film a seven because at times it seemed over-long and some of the scenes were implausible (like the Mossad/Palestinian meeting in the safehouse). Yet Spielberg shows a neutral point of view that was appropriate for this film in terms of violence begetting violence. The result of this message in the film angered a lot of people in Israel and also in many parts of the world, because nothing was accomplished by the film's end. One of life's critical ironies as well as concrete truths.

I had very little knowledge of what this movie was about, and was starting to think about the other "magician" movie that was released earlier this summer with Edward Norton as I watched the opening credits. It was somewhat slow as it began (but then again, was this going to begin with a car chase/bank robbery?), but it was interesting when they began to reveal some of their secrets by the second reel.

After a lot of holes that had been dug up and some not quite filled, I began to tune out of this film more and more- thinking about what I was going to eat that night for dinner, the laundry, etc.- but I kept focus, particularly at the film's climax. Basically, there was a twist layered upon twist layered upon twist, and I felt slightly annoyed that this has now become a standard in storytelling (along with excessive uses of flashbacks). Nolan's usage of twists and flashbacks were channeled eloquently in 2000's "Memento," but now it has become somewhat sloppy.

The reason why I didn't buy these twists were the mere fact that both of the story's main principals, Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale, didn't seem intelligent enough to anticipate and second guess each other. I mean, they were both clever at times, but if Jackman could not see that Scarlet Johanssen was playing him all along- how could he predict EVERY move that Bale made like he did? It just did not seem plausible enough to convince me that either one of these characters were that brilliant. And maybe I missed it, but whatever happened to Jackman's double? Scarlet Johanssen is another issue. Not only has the woman been in every fourth movie, but she plays the fourth character as well for about the same amount of screen time per movie. She slips into this film, but slips out just as fast. I wish she would take more complicated roles because I thought she was somewhat interesting in 2001's "Ghost World." Perhaps she assumes the easy-on-the-eyes part whenever a casting director is in a snag on whom to cast for a female star in a film.

"The Prestige" has its moments and is fair. Sir Michael Caine has been better in other films, but never bad. I was surprised to see that David Bowie did not try to ham up the screen and instead appeared as a possible Pierce Brosnan as an old man instead.

Perhaps this was Christopher Nolan's mainstream follow-up attempt to "Memento," but seemed more like "Insomnia" meeting "Batman Begins."

Idi Amin is one of those figures that only a handful of people know about: all I knew was that he was a ruthless dictator in the seventies of some African country who murdered thousands of his own countrymen (and women). I knew that he was African, chubby and wore a banana-republic-looking uniform with medals. And when I saw Forest Whitaker in the role of Amin, I thought that it was just uncanny and chilling. Whenever Forest was on screen, I felt almost as if I should be answering to him as well as James McAvoy's character was; as if I was standing alongside him. "The Last King of Scotland" is an independent gem of a film. Actual film footage is cleverly insinuated into parts of the film that was made on limited means (like most real good dramas are).

The premise is simple: young idealistic doctor in early seventies wants to make a difference in his life and that of others by benevolently choosing a third-world country (in this case Uganda). Sets up camp there and boards with unlucky and insignificant others until meeting rich and charismatic dictator by chance. Dictator offers him job as personal physician and adviser- is seduced by charms of the "good life". Until seeing the brutality firsthand- wants out now. Dictator makes it known to him that he cannot leave and that he is committed to his promise. Dilemma-disaster, dilemma-disaster...Perhaps this slight-of-the-numbers plot line plays out so successfully because Whittaker's overall performance as Amin that portrays him as three-dimensional, mercurial and downright scary. There is always tension after he enters the picture just by his own unpredictable presence. McAvoy is fine as the Scottish doctor in this (and will probably become the next Ewan McGregor in a few years) along with Kerry Washington (who was hardly noticeable from Spike Lee's "She Hate Me") and Gillian Anderson (whom I hardly recognized as well until she gave that Dana Scully-stare in certain shots- I'm not sure if she ages well, but her beauty still seemed to be intact). A very well-made film that combines the ubiquitous actual events with fiction (although I read that Amin actually did have a Scottish doctor at one time) and Amin's unpopular international opinion is cleverly ingratiated through the protagonist by the end of the film.

Whether you are a history buff or not, Forest Whitaker's performance makes the film worth watching on its own. I am surprised to see that Whitaker has been nominated for Best Actor this year (and I think he deserves the Oscar over someone like, oh- let me think- "Leonardo DiCaprio." This motion picture leaves you with a more powerful impression since Uganda was only addressed in a paragraph or two in the newspapers back in the seventies and early eighties. This is a film that will leave one feeling more appreciative that they live in a country unlike Uganda or Somalia where constant violence and revolution is commonplace and people like Amin are a dime-a-dozen.

I have read so many negating reviews of this film, and quite honestly, this film does not seem to age well- so I am in slight agreement. This film is very insular, and does not cater too well to those outside of the entertainment industry with its scope of Hollywood insider jokes that would only range from the Westside to a mile outside of the L.A. basin.

Its premise involves successful screenwriter Steven Phillips (Albert Brooks, who is still able to maintain the same whiny shtick for all these years)slowly losing his "edge" that everyone around him notices but himself. After whining about it to his agent, his wife, and anyone who would listen, he goes to his fellow Oscar-winning screenwriter friend Jack (Jeff Bridges) for advice. Jack refers him to the services of a "Muse" (played by Sharon Stone) in order to help him become "inspired" again. Andie MacDowell plays Brooks's wife in her usual cardboard performance, and the more colorful characters are oddly enough, the supporting actors and the cameos. Josh the studio executive was a slick schmuck and Martin Scorsese's appearance was cool. Hal (Bradley Whitford) as Brooks's agent was nothing more than a token sit-com character, and there was lazy writing in delivering some of the jokes in this film. This is any and every dwindling artist's fantasy that works for a corporation whose purpose is to manufacture creativity.

I saw this in the theatres in 1999 and then rented it on video months later on. And oddly enough, the film began to feel more and more dated like cheap wine quickly turning to vinegar. And when I watched this the other night on cable, I couldn't believe that I really dug this when it came out. Even though this film pokes fun of the entertainment industry, it also seems to succumb to it, invisibly presenting itself as a slave to it. The film is not bad, but in no way is it very memorable. The jokes and humor are passable, but once again, it would appeal more to an Angeleno than it would a Texan.

A release that I had looked forward to for almost a month after seeing the trailer in the theatre, it had finally hatched in October. Tom Perrotta's "satirical" 2004 novel had been released and I was able to finish reading it before the film's impending release. The film stars Kate Winslet (who, along with Guy Pearce, have both mastered the American accent in ennui), Academy Award-winning Jennifer Connelly (who unfortunately does not have enough screen time) and rising newcomer Patrick Wilson (destined to become the next Josh Lucas). The other comeback (and so many reviewers have mentioned him already) is the return of former teen heartthrob Jackie Earle Haley ("Breaking Away," "The Bad News Bears") as a parolee pedophile who is carefully insinuated in the film's climax. A redeeming endeavor on film involving such an un-redeeming character.

The film is about two married suburbanites who are stay-at-home parents that embark on an affair (Winslet and Wilson) while their spouses are bringing home the bacon. Winslet's husband is already a pathetic sap whose addicted to internet porn, so it's not hard to empathize with Kate's endeavors (although the right thing for her would to up and leave him- but then that would be an entirely different movie). Wilson who is married to Connelly is different- because despite of how slightly emasculating she is on her husband, the woman is still likable. At the film's climax, Kate tells Patrick that their sneaking around is weird and she wants closure (which of course a lot of people in her position would want as well). Although in the book, her character never asserted herself like that. I also found myself comparing the film to the novel (which at times seemed over-written). There were subtle changes that were made due to time, budget and cinematic reasons, but the best change was of the ending as opposed to the book's. The book's ending was so contrived and implausible, Field did a superb job with coming up with something less anti-climatic and more shocking. This is one of those rarities in where you can honestly say that the film was better than the book. Another sequence that was excised from the movie that was in the book was the fact that Kathy had not only figured out that Brad was having an affair with Sarah, but she acted as if they were competing athletes and that he received the gold medal and she just got the silver instead, and that it wasn't fair to her. That too, was implausible and I was relieved that that was gone. In the book, Sarah (Winslet) was more needy and Kathy (Connelly) was producing a documentary about WWII vets rather than Desert Storm.

My real complaint about this film (aside from the under-usage of Connelly) was the narrative voice-over that would present itself throughout the picture. Although it was well-written (taken verbatim from the novel at times), it was slightly distracting. It seemed to offer a perspective of the character's innermost feelings at times, but it also seemed as if the narrator was talking to the audience as if they were "children," and it seemed unnecessary. But that is probably the desired effect here: with the narration, the viewer almost feels as if they are watching a psychology film studying infidelity with that borderline-baritone, ominous-sounding voice sequestering the characters and their actions from the audience. The narration did provide some comic relief for the audience though, whereas Todd Field's first film "In the Bedroom" did not. Field probably learned from that and proved with a vengeance that he could make a better film.

I would not be surprised to see this film on the ballot around Oscar season: Kate Winslet truly deserves props for her performance (especially at the end where her character breaks down- you can sense the overall frustration that she has and her epiphany is spliced within her sobs). Jackie Earle Haley without any word said deserves a Best Supporting Actor nomination, but I know because of the lack of publicity and the limited number of theatres this film venued at, there is little hope for a little film with "little" in its title that will really score big.

"The Quiet" has decent acting, a decent storyline (although the twist is such a cliché'), but the film reminds us of other films at times ("American Beauty," "Swimfan," even "Mean Girls"). Elisha Cuthbert is perfect as the primadonna cheerleader (and plays the part a little TOO well). Martin Donovan is good as the incest-obsessed sick father and Edie Falco was almost unrecognizable as the pill-popping, loopy mother. I found Camilla Belle a little mis-casted though. She was good at times, but I did not buy how Shawn Ashmore magically had the hots for her. A popular jock in high school and a supposed deaf girl? Right! I know high school has changed a little since I've been there, but there are still social cliques and standards in which to follow. I just didn't buy how they were at the diner together or even having sex on the pool deck. And that stoned-cow look from her was annoying at times (especially since 1/2 of the film is in extreme close-up). The daddy's little girl scenes were hard to watch even though there was no nudity, and good tension was created because of that. I even found Cuthbert's reaction plausible after her dad is killed: even though she knows that what he does is sick and wrong and she wants to kill him because of it, he is also the only father-figure that she knows. And when she cried, I felt a fleeting haunt from it.

Camilla Belle's lethargic reactions made this film super slow at times, and then there were less believable events peppered throughout which made the film suffer even more. I was not sure if there was a love/hate lesbian relationship evolving between Cuthbert and Belle by the end, but I think the pass that Cuthbert's friend Michelle made with her earlier in the film was supposed to be a precursor to it. Even though there are occasionally poignant moments, this film unfortunately is forgettable. Especially if you did not like "American Beauty."

"Oliver Stone has made a comeback," that's what one critic ranted about shortly after the release of this film in a review. Gone were the thousands of quick cuts and the multiple uses of film stock (although there is the use of actual footage in some scenes); or his trademark overuse of the same talent (John C. McGinley, Michael Wincott, Val Kilmer, Tom Sizemore). This was actually a film that could of been done by any director-for-hire, but Stone also used one of his other trademarks and that was to cast Hollywood heavyweight and rising actors like Nicholas Cage, Maria Bello, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Michael Pena and Jay Hernandez. And that is what distinguished itself from the other 9/11 movie out this year, "Flight 93." The result of this endeavor was a fair film that only captured the story of two trapped PAPD officers and their families on that infamous day of U.S. history since Pearl Harbor. Stone did not use any gratuitous violence and instead kept it taut and tasteful. It makes me wonder if there were constraints on Stone from the financiers and studio with just how much of the film he could add his personal touches to, and if he received some "parental guidance" in this one (like Stanley Kubrick so desperately needed at times). Because this film does not seem or scream a typical Oliver Stone film.

And because of the concentration on only two characters and their families in the story, that was one of the reasons why this film felt very much like a movie-of-the-week. It also did not feel as significant of an event such as 9/11 at times, and instead seemed more like another disaster film at times due to the extreme close-ups with Cage and Pena trapped in the rubble of the Twin Towers. The film ends on a happier and hopeful note (which again, is taboo for Oliver Stone), but at the same time the viewer feels as if the lives of the others are dismissed as if it were an Irwin Allen-produced disaster movie of the seventies, and only the immediate survivors show any importance. Only at the closing credits are the deceased and those missing on September 11, 2001 acknowledged.

One of my biggest complaints with this picture was that Stone did not use a bigger scope in terms of storytelling as he did with films like "Any Given Sunday" and "Nixon." Perhaps Mr. Stone is not fit to do mainstream or tame films. I just hope that he does not think he should do a comedy based on the strength of this film's success.

The film without a doubt has traces of "Pulp Fiction" embedded in it, but a little "Swingers" and other films to it as well. All in all it's an entertaining movie that goes nowhere and ends without an epiphany for these characters. This film has multiple stories that all relate with one another in some form that does not try to be alternative and cool. It doesn't condescend to its audience and it's always one step ahead of itself. Sarah Polley (whom I never heard of at the time but follow her work now) was great; Katie Holmes wasn't quite Katie Holmes, and that was good (although she is probably so above this movie now that she's with Tom). William Fichtner was dope as the weird cop, but it was Timothy Olyphant who stole the show as the charismatic drug dealer (and you never ever hated him). I've read other comments and these people just take this thing TOO seriously! It's not the movie of 1999, it's not "Pulp"- it's just "Go". I have this movie on DVD and heard Doug Linman's commentary: he sounds like he had too much fun making this. And it was sick watching this! I guess if I came in with some expectations I wouldn't hate it like so many others do on this site! But I did catch this movie on TV on New Year's Day, and they butchered it so much because of the perverse and profanity-rooted scenes. The movie was so f**cked-up that I didn't even enjoy it, hence, I was part of that same crowd at one point.

I guess James Bond has sold out now-- I'm sorry-- UPGRADED to teen-age audiences. I mean, aren't they the ones who ultimately control the box office? Let's make sure that we tailor these films for them because it doesn't matter how believable the action is, they're teen-agers-- what do they know? Look how "Charlie's Angels" did! And that was definitely for kids between 12 to 17. You know, we need more "American Pie"s, "Spider-Man"s, "Jay & Silent Bob"s-- let's make sure that we get 007 in the mix now! Bond was always good fun, but this is neither good nor fun. It's time to stop at the 20th Bond because both he and Austin Powers are really starting to show their ages! I'm embarrassed that I was ever a Bond fan after seeing this dreck! They're trying to spoof themselves after what Austin Powers did a few years ago. The action is superfluously ridiculous! The creators have used every plot line, every gadget, every villain, etc. An invisible car! Machines now that can reconfigure one's face and body, surfing commandos, Halle Berry oxygen-deprived for five minutes and then of course, surviving! A weak Rick Yune attached to an IV suddenly springs to life in order to escape Bond! Madonna's title song!....PLEASE!!! And wasn't Toby Stephens a menacing bad-guy? Did Maculay Culkin grow up and take this part for free? I guess we're just that stupid now! Sure, Bond films have had a checkered past, but now they're doing anything for a buck these days. Do the filmmakers actually think that they're going to top "The Lord of the Rings"? Guess so.

I'm not shaken or stirred anymore and M "would have no use for me" after reading this-- so some things are better off dead. This is roadkill.

A plain stupid disgrace to the Jame Bond legacy.

I saw the promos to this when I saw "Thank You for Smoking" last spring. The cast really enticed me to see it (even though I don't really care for and never have for Billy Cudrup). It's also funny how Fox Searchlight always releases two feature films back-to-back for subliminal compare and contrasting ("One Hour Photo"/ "The Good Girl" and "Little Miss Sunshine" and this).

"Trust the Man" echoes an Edward Burns film more than it does with Woody Allen, with likable characters who all have their quirks and imperfections simultaneously. Beginning with Duchovny, we see a stay-at-home dad with a little too much time on his hands (viewing occasional internet porn, obsessing about sex, an affair with a single mother from his son's school) juxtaposed with his busy, workaholic-actress wife, played by Julianne Moore. Together, they have two kids and seem more busy with their lives, and their happiness seems more incidental at most.

Maggie Gyllenhaal and Billy Cudrup are the other couple- where Gyllenhaal is an ambitious aspiring writer and Cudrup is her 36-year-old infant boyfriend with zero ambition. Together they are like chalk and cheese, and it's Gyllenhaal the audience seems to sympathize with more. Cudrup is also the brother to Moore's character, Rebecca, so that is how he bonds with Duchovny.

As the film seems to be at a dead stop within its first five minutes, it begins to escalate as we see the temptresses for both Duchovny and Cudrup (Eva Mendes and Dagmara Domincyzk) after proper introductions and meeting with the principle characters. And from there, the viewer witnesses the complexities of both couples' lives that are clichéd at times and predictable. Duchovny gives into an affair with Domincyzk to compensate for the lack of sex in his marriage with Moore. Cudrup is tempted by an already married Eva Mendes (and I think it could be every frustrated male's fantasy), but declines even though his girlfriend has dropped him like a hot potato. Gyllenhaal is occupied with publishing her children's book (Ellen Barkin makes a humorous cameo as a lesbian editor who is very "interested" for lack of a better word in her work). And Moore finds out about the affair through sibling intuition.

Yet "Trust the Man" has a little heart to it and a few one-liners that are laugh-out-loud, but there are some elements to it that are not completely plausible. The Sex-Addicts meeting for one could and should of been trimmed with the dumb jokes axed so that would set a little more seriousness to Duchovny's plight. The climax was stupid with the slo-mo roar from Cudrup at the play along with the sub-standard pat resolution onstage that we've seen too much in T.V. movies and after-school specials. With the very last scene, we've all seen the bitter couple reconcile at the end by deciding to get married (one extreme to the other is the norm to Hollywood's story development). Why did Freundlich slap on a pat Hollywood-ending when he was doing okay with the rest of the movie? If they stopped it on the plane at the end between Duchovny and Moore, it would of made a more fitting ending (since the film began with them, it should of ended with them as well). I would of found the film more credible, and perhaps the third act began to fall apart that a mercy-kill was needed with the film's ending ultimately shooting itself. But the film still had its moments...

"I didn't know that spunk came in such a beautiful package..."

Miami VICE- I hear Jan Hammer's percussion echoing through my brain and bouncing off its walls as I stand in line-I anticipate its success because one of the best actors of the 21st century, Jamie Foxx, is starring and the bomb director who helmed 2004's "Collateral" AND the original series is the flick's director, Michael Mann! I'm sitting in the theatre telling myself it's gonna be tight! It's gonna rock! After eleven minutes of worthless previews, we see the movie begin immediately without starting credits. It was similar to how "Collateral" began, but it also made me feel just like the old TV show made me feel: empty and inept. I always felt as if I had missed twenty minutes of the show. I always felt like they never gave much character development to Phillip Michael Thomas, but plenty to Don Johnson. Same thing with this one. Not much to Foxx, but plenty to Farrell. Gone are the pastel Italian suits, Edward James Olmos, Johnson & Thomas, and Jan Hammer's music. Mann does a superb job of preserving the hole-ridden plots the TV show gave us, along with the cool camera angles, lighting, and Ferraris.

The first scene echoes like "Collateral", as if it were Max instead- daydreaming that he was Tom Cruise, plowing through the club, breaking arms and legs, kicking bodies. Afterwards, a few cell-phone calls and arms blowing off inside the cabs of cars, we are subjected to a lot of talk from characters that we really don't care about. For at least 45 minutes. And then remembering the show (I was about 13-14 when it premiered), I didn't seem to care about the characters either and all of their talk-talk. It's an emulation of a so-so eighties TV show: no surprises, not bad, but not good. The violence was graphic and Mann has the Peckinpah touch in this film, but at the same time, he is able to illustrate the violence by showing us the finished results. And the violence isn't supposed to look hip like the TV show (and Quentin Tarantino) made it look. When a guy gets shot in the head, the wall behind him looks like a bloody Jackson Pollock.

I really hoped this would be better than the show, but it is just a flashy re-hash that is nothing more than an updated, ultra-violent cable pilot with the same name and gimmicks.

"The Upside of Anger" is on HBO repeatedly now, and I find myself watching parts of it whenever it's on. That doesn't mean it was a great movie. No- I just wait for the best moments (and there aren't too many to list here). The performances from Joan Allen and her ensemble of daughters is superb. And Kevin Costner's just, well, Kevin Costner. He was so overrated in the early to mid nineties, it's nice to see him in a film where he is a supporting character because a leading man he is not (unless you're talking about shoot-em-ups that go straight to video).

The best parts are when Joan Allen finds "Shep" (a washed-out, over-the-hill radio DJ) in bed with her 22-year-old daughter, played by Erika Christiansen. Allen's reaction is hysterical, and the scene which follows at the dinner table has flashed in every parents' mind when their child has a significant other they vehemently disapprove of. And later when she slaps Shep TWICE for being such a chickenhawk. Shep's comeback isn't earth-shattering, but he begins to deliver a point. However, he doesn't seem to be as articulate as Joan Allen's character I was nonetheless quietly hoping for more from him.

But the movie never seems to get over second gear, and has a weak climax. This is not necessarily a Lifetime movie, but it's tailored for it (just need to cut down- or out- the dinner table-scene); in where it seems to be a TV drama with sap included. The movie drags numerous times and I found myself tuning out.

Bottom line: if you want to see a good chick-flick out there, see one from a FEMALE director, not by a man.

Watchable but forgettable.

Miss Connelly is falling under Marisa Tomei-syndrome: she's an Oscar-winning actress subjected to bad/mediocre movies since 2001. Her first appearance after winning the gold for "A Beautiful Mind" was "Hulk". Oy vey! Then "The House of Sand and Fog" followed (which wasn't bad, but Jennifer could of done a lot better). Now this. And this film was released in the summer as if this would be the ultimate "Sixth Sense". The ending was stupid and ambiguous, and it was a shame to see John C. Reilly ("Boogie Nights") and Tim Roth (Quentin's English golden boy) in dreck like this. I rented it the other night really hoping that it would get better, and every time it didn't, I just kept telling myself, " No wonder it didn't play long!"

If you can, avoid this and watch "The Sixth Sense" again.