Brendan Sexton Iii

Brendan Sexton Iii

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Seven Psychopaths Trailer


Marty is a budding screenwriter in LA with hopes of completing his major screenplay 'Seven Psychopaths' but involuntarily gets mixed up in his friends Hans and Billy's career of dog kidnapping; a way of earning money that involves stealing people's pet pooches and returning them some days later to claim the reward. Billy is an actor and Marty's best friend who tries desperately to keep him safe when he is almost killed after Billy and Hans steal the much-loved Shih Tzu of unhinged gangster, Charlie; a man whose fury and devastation at losing his dog is enough drive to execute whoever he thinks is involved. Hans is religious with a violent past but now recognises non-violence as a better way to live. However, he, Billy and Marty will struggle avoiding violence at the hands of Charlie especially as they choose to ignore their worried and annoyed girlfriends' suggestions to return the dog.

'Seven Psychopaths' is a wonderful crime comedy that spoofs the trend of all the serious gangster movies that have been released this year. Directed, written and produced by the Oscar winning Martin Mcdonagh ('In Bruges', 'Six Shooter'), this star-studded flick is definitely one for dog lovers and gangster film lovers alike. It is scheduled for release in the UK this winter on December 7th 2012.

Starring: Sam Rockwell, Colin Farrell, Christopher Walken, Woody Harrelson, Abbie Cornish, Olga Kurylenko, Zeljko Ivanek, Tom Waits, Helena Mattsson, Gabourey Sidibe, Kevin Corrigan, Brendan Sexton III, Sandy Martin and Ronnie Gene Blevins.

Black Hawk Down Review


Unbearable
"It's about the facelessness of war!" exclaimed a colleague. "The compositions are stunning, with action going on in the foreground and background. It's a dynamic and apocalyptic visual experience!" This, to me, is madness. Black Hawk Down has been mistaken, in its bloated self-importance, for being cinematically and politically relevant. Take away its timely guise of patriotism, and it's a real horror show, more about murder than military prowess. Without the morally repellant "kill 'em all" subtext (young white boys mowing down the savages), you're left with something merely incoherent.

Two U.S. Black Hawk helicopters go down in the mazelike streets of Mogadishu during a routine search-and-capture mission, leaving 100 G.I.'s stumbling around enemy territory with limited resources until the rescue Rangers show up. It's been oft-compared to having almost two full hours of Steven Spielberg's masterful 30-minute Omaha Beach sequence in Saving Private Ryan, which sounds good on paper only because Ryan suffered by following up its amazing visual prologue with a glut of character-driven monologues to invest personality within each soldier before he get killed. But Spielberg understood the basic precepts of documentary filmmaking: no matter how chaotic things got, we always understood where the soldiers were, and where they were going. Black Hawk Down, by removing exposition and cohesion, couldn't care less.

Continue reading: Black Hawk Down Review

Love, Ludlow Review


Weak
Tracking the careers of the two girls who played "Becky" on Roseanne can be a terribly fun sport. Sarah Chalke (Becky #2) wound up being a big star on TV's Scrubs, and she probably has a nice career ahead of her as a movie star. Alicia Goranson (Becky #1) left the show to go to college. She came back to TV and movies many years later, and after a few supporting appearances, now she's tiptoeing her way into leading roles.

I'm not sure it's gonna take.

Continue reading: Love, Ludlow Review

Black Hawk Down Review


Unbearable
"It's about the facelessness of war!" exclaimed a colleague. "The compositions are stunning, with action going on in the foreground and background. It's a dynamic and apocalyptic visual experience!" This, to me, is madness. Black Hawk Down has been mistaken, in its bloated self-importance, for being cinematically and politically relevant. Take away its timely guise of patriotism, and it's a real horror show, more about murder than military prowess. Without the morally repellant "kill 'em all" subtext (young white boys mowing down the savages), you're left with something merely incoherent.

Two U.S. Black Hawk helicopters go down in the mazelike streets of Mogadishu during a routine search-and-capture mission, leaving 100 G.I.'s stumbling around enemy territory with limited resources until the rescue Rangers show up. It's been oft-compared to having almost two full hours of Steven Spielberg's masterful 30-minute Omaha Beach sequence in Saving Private Ryan, which sounds good on paper only because Ryan suffered by following up its amazing visual prologue with a glut of character-driven monologues to invest personality within each soldier before he get killed. But Spielberg understood the basic precepts of documentary filmmaking: no matter how chaotic things got, we always understood where the soldiers were, and where they were going. Black Hawk Down, by removing exposition and cohesion, couldn't care less.

Continue reading: Black Hawk Down Review

Pecker Review


Excellent
John Waters lives in two worlds: the trashy and aggressively weird neighborhoods of his native Baltimore and the artsy society circles of New York City. Pecker is his hilarious take on what happens when those two very different cultures collide.

Pecker (Edward Furlong) is a happy-go-lucky teen who loves to carry his camera around town taking quick snapshots of the types of characters who have been populating Waters's films since the '70s. He even lives with some of them: his thrift-shop owning parents (Mary Kay Place and Mark Joy); his foul-mouthed sister Tina (Martha Plimpton), who works as a sassy bartender at the local gay bar; his eight-year-old sister, the hopelessly sugar-addicted Little Chrissy (Lauren Hulsey); and his totally wacky grandmother Memama (Jean Schertler), who cooks and sells pit beef sandwiches on the front lawn when she isn't distracted by her statue of the Virgin Mary, which speaks to her saying, "Full of grace! Full of grace!" Memama doesn't realize that she's actually the one saying it.

Continue reading: Pecker Review

Hurricane Streets Review


OK
Alternately pithy and brilliant, this meditation on New York City street kids lacks the power of Kids but makes up for it with heart.

Boys Don't Cry Review


Essential
Boys Don't Cry, the first film that I have paid for without the promise of immediate compensation in quite a while, cost me $9.50 for a matinee.

It was worth every penny.

Continue reading: Boys Don't Cry Review

Session 9 Review


Excellent
Director/writer Brad Anderson, who turned heads with the winning romantic comedy Next Stop Wonderland, does a narrative about face with Session 9, a creepy, psychological thriller more likely to twist heads than turn them. After displaying a knack for witty dialogue and strong pacing with Wonderland, Anderson applies those skills to the difficult horror genre, and delivers an exciting, low-key treat.

You can think of Session 9 as a kind of 5 Angry Men meets The Shining. A crew of asbestos removal workers -- played with solid force throughout, with notable performances by David Caruso (Kiss of Death, NYPD Blue) and Peter Mullan (The Claim) -- has the unenviable task of spending a week in an enormous, abandoned insane asylum, gutting it at a fever pitch pace in order to make it safe for renovation. The hospital once housed 2,300 "patients" at its peak, and very few of them were happy. Makes for an excellent haunted house story.

Continue reading: Session 9 Review

Session 9 Review


Weak

A new entry in the recent trend toward more cerebral/psychological haunting movies that aim for something more than cheap, popcorn-spilling jolts, "Session 9" is blessed with a great concept but burdened by bland execution.

The hauntees are members of an asbestos haz-mat team hired to clean up Massachusetts' Danvers State Hospital, a vast loony bin abandoned in 1985 when Ronald Reagan slashed funding for mental institutions. Director Brad Anderson ("Next Stop, Wonderland") actually shot the film on location, and the eerie empty corridors of the joint are the film's most dynamic characters -- especially since Anderson props up his goosepimply atmosphere on the most incidental of chills, letting the viewer's cerebrum build tension all on its own.

It's an effective technique since the movie keeps you on edge for an hour and a half with very few genuine frights. One team member (Stephen Gevedon) takes his breaks in a basement storeroom, listening to tapes -- left behind by a doctor -- of a schizophrenic murderer cycling through multiple personalities.

Continue reading: Session 9 Review

Boys Don't Cry Review


Weak

If you can get past the insufferable bunch of violent, worthless, ignorant, career criminal rednecks that Brandon Teena aspires to befriend in "Boys Don't Cry" -- a based-on-reality account of a young Nebraska transvestite's murder -- then this otherwise dramatic and devastating drama might just leave you speechless and emotionally wiped out.

By itself Hilary Swank's unfettered, unflinching performance as Brandon -- a 20-year-old from Lincoln who discards the female coil that never suited her to embrace the gallant swagger of the charming, delicately chiseled cowboy within -- is so convincingly masculine that if you walked in on the middle of the movie, you'd never know you were watching an actress.

This works out well, since "Boys Don't Cry" is the story of how Brandon moved 70 miles away to a wide spot in the road called Falls City and began a new life as the little buddy of felonious, hard-drinking hayseeds and an the town's most alluring, byronic, 120-pound hunk -- before being exposed as a cross-dresser and heinously raped and murdered by the repulsed rabble-rousers he called friends.

Continue reading: Boys Don't Cry Review

Desert Blue Review


OK

Would you believe me if I told you someone has made a movie about teenagers that doesn't revolve around the sex lives of unrealistically urbane high school juniors?

I don't even remember the last time I saw a juvie movie like "Desert Blue," a very rural comedy featuring a ensemble cast of talented rising stars (as opposed to the WB variety) playing teenagers who (gasp!) act like teenagers.

They're bored and discontented. They hang out and drink beer for the sake of drinking beer. They toy with intellectualism, peppering their attempts at depth with the word "dude." They neck a lot because unlike those urbane movie teens, that's what most teenagers do far more often than they have sex.

Continue reading: Desert Blue Review

Brendan Sexton Iii

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