Callie Thorne

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Opening night after party for 'The Money Shot' - Arrivals

Gia Crovatin, Neil LaBute, Elizabeth Reaser, Frederick Weller and Callie Thorne - Opening night after party for 'The Money Shot' - Arrivals at Lortel Theatre, - New York, New York, United States - Monday 22nd September 2014

Frederick Weller and Neil LaBute
Neil LaBute

'The Money Shot' - opening night curtain call

Callie Thorne and Elizabeth Reaser - 'The Money Shot' - opening night curtain call at Lortel Theatre, - New York City, New York, United States - Monday 22nd September 2014

Callie Thorne, Elizabeth Reaser, Frederick Weller and Gia Crovatin
Callie Thorne, Elizabeth Reaser, Frederick Weller and Gia Crovatin
Callie Thorne, Elizabeth Reaser, Frederick Weller and Gia Crovatin
Callie Thorne, Elizabeth Reaser, Frederick Weller and Gia Crovatin
Callie Thorne, Elizabeth Reaser, Frederick Weller and Gia Crovatin

Photocall for 'The Money Shot'

Neil LaBute, Frederick Weller, Callie Thorne, Heather Graham and Gia Crovatin - Photocall for the MCC Theater production of 'The Money Shot' held at the Second Stage Theatre - New York City, New York, United States - Thursday 14th August 2014

Terry Kinney, Blake West, William Cantler, Frederick Weller, Callie Thorne, Heather Graham, Gia Crovatin, Bernard Telsey and Neil LaBute
Neil LaBute
Neil LaBute and Terry Kinney
Blake West, William Cantler, Bernard Telsey, Neil LaBute and Terry Kinney

Premiere Of 'The Fault in Our Stars'

Callie Thorne - Premiere of 'The Fault in Our Stars' at the Ziegfeld Theater - New York City, New York, United States - Monday 2nd June 2014

Callie Thorne

2013 USA Network Upfronts held at Pier 36

Callie Thorne - 2013 USA Network Upfronts held at Pier 36 - Arrivals - New York City, United States - Wednesday 15th May 2013

Callie Thorne

Watching the Detectives Review


Grim
Watching the Detectives proves that even if you adopt a cool-sounding Elvis Costello song title for your movie, that won't necessarily make it good.

Despite the presence of indie darling Cillian Murphy and teen lust subject Lucy Liu in the leading roles, Detectives is pretty much dead from frame one. Even mega-fans of either of the headliners will have trouble muddling through it.

Continue reading: Watching the Detectives Review

Rescue Me: Season Three Review


Grim
In the first couple of seasons, Denis Leary's FDNY fire opera Rescue Me flung itself through windows and played out in traffic. It busted jaws, opened old wounds just for spite and made grand sport of the whole ungodly train wreck of it all. It was almost as though co-creators Leary and Peter Tolan (The Larry Sanders Show) felt they were going to get canceled any second and so chucked all caution to the wind. In between sitting around the firehouse and indulging in some of the more profane dialogue ever to grace the TV screen (even on basic cable), the characters were subjected to just about any disaster Leary and Tolan could come up with, anything to push these emotionally stunted mugs to the wall and see what devastation they would mete out in response.

But somehow, the pissy little export from the land of the five boroughs -- and rarely has a show so viscerally captured the city's day-to-day, boiling-over, rat-in-a-cage anger -- survived. And this is after sending the wife of the Chief (Jack McGee) into a debilitating Alzheimer's nightmare and not only devastating Tommy Gavin's (Leary) family with the long-term and low-intensity emotional warfare of a never-ending divorce but then, near the end of the second season, having a drunk driver kill Tommy's little boy. That tragedy was then capped off by a nothing-to-lose Uncle Teddy (Lenny Clarke) gunning down the driver in full view of the cops, since a life behind bars seemed preferable to anything else he had going.

Continue reading: Rescue Me: Season Three Review

Ed's Next Move Review


Extraordinary
This year's low-budget success story and darling of the festival circuit, Ed's Next Move is one of a handful of recent pictures that is truly deserving of its praise.

The Manhattan-based indie traces a few weeks in the life of urban greenhorn Eddie (Matt Ross), whose titular move is from the wide-open, cheesy state of Wisconsin to the dog-eat-dog world of New York City. Eddie, a genetics researcher and rice breeder, faces the world alone -- a stranger in a strange land. He lives in a cheap motel while he tries to find a non-psychotic roommate, can't get a simple hamburger at a restaurant, and finds his Midwestern sensibilities out of place in the big city.

Continue reading: Ed's Next Move Review

Revolution #9 Review


Good
Tim McCann's Revolution #9 is a muted freak-out, an exploration of the kind of slipping-down life from which it's impossible avert your gaze.

Michael Risley plays Jackson, a seemingly normal man who out of the blue becomes convinced he is being beseiged by secret messages in e-mail spam and a TV perfume ad. After confronting the nephew of his girlfriend (Adrienne Shelly) as being in on the conspiracy, Jackson's world becomes more and more bizarre, even hunting down the photographer (Spalding Gray, in a small but fun role) who shot the perfume commercial.

Continue reading: Revolution #9 Review

This Is Not a Film Review


Weak
Michael wants to find his long lost ex-girlfriend; figures he'll make a film pleasing for information about her whereabouts in the hopes that someone will see the movie, then tell him where she is, a la "six degrees of separation." This Is Not a Film is, of course, a film -- a fictional one at that, and with a rather weak idea at its heart. A camera and sound guy follow Michael through his day, selling shoes, drinking coffee, doing the crossword, and so on. It's a self-referential "here we go walkin' through the city and talkin' about making a movie" movie, though at least everyone involved is reasonably professional. It's not too terribly long, either, and in this one-joke gig, that's a good thing.

Next Stop Wonderland Review


Grim
Huh? Hope Davis and Alan Gelfant play two Boston mopers (one a nurse, one an aquarium worker) who just can't find their soulmates. Mom puts a personal ad in the paper for Davis, even(!). The ensuing comedy of errors ends up being a limp melodrama of cliches. The plot is straight out of Sliding Doors and 'Til There Was You, but Wonderland adds nothing to the will-they-meet? genre of romance filmmaking, and Davis wears way too much lipstick. Best reserved for late night insomnia attacks. This one will knock you right out.

Sidewalks Of New York Review


OK

Lauded after his 1994 debut "The Brothers McMullen" as a potential Woody Allen for the reflectively cynical generation, writer-director-actor Edward Burns may truly begin living up to that label with "Sidewalks of New York," a sardonic yet hopeful love letter to the difficulties and dilemmas of the Manhattan mating game.

Structured around on-the-street interviews with its characters, the picture is a compound parable of crossing paths in the messy love lives of half a dozen Gotham denizens, starting with a cocksure young TV producer played by Burns himself.

Recently kicked out by his long-term, live-in girlfriend, Burns clicks with a pretty, polemic schoolteacher (Rosario Dawson) at a video store when they butt heads over the only copy of a movie. Meanwhile, Dawson's sad-sack ex-husband (David Krumholtz), a doorman and wannabe rocker who never got over their break-up, plays puppy dog to a button-cute, 19-year-old waitress (Brittany Murphy) until she agrees to go out with him. But the esteem-impaired girl is already sleeping with a manipulative, misogynistic father figure (Stanley Tucci), whose neglected, naive but rapidly wising-up, Upper East Side wife (Heather Graham) is a real estate agent who happens to be helping Burns find a new place to live.

Continue reading: Sidewalks Of New York Review

Whipped Review


Unbearable

The superficial modern sex farce "Whipped" takes place in a world where all women are beautiful, shallow, sex-mad and stupid.

It's a world populated by runway models and girls nicknamed "Heidi the Hoover" who happily go home two at a time with overconfident Melvins in leather pants and pleasure these pigs all night long. Then some of these Barbie dolls subsequently steal guys' TVs while they're in the shower the next morning, proving how untrustworthy chicks are, dude.It's a world where groups of guys gather in chromey corner diners in Manhattan on Sunday mornings to loudly compare detailed notes on the quantity and quality of the babes they bagged on Friday and Saturday nights.

It's a world that could appeal only to folks whose lives revolve around frat parties because in this world everyone -- everyone -- is utterly devoid of any qualities that make people worth knowing. It's "The East Village of the Damned Blackguard Bachelors."

Continue reading: Whipped Review

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