Fifteen years later (as the film is reissued on an indulgent Special Edition DVD set, complete with commentary track from three of the less-busy stars), everything in Young Guns feels wrong. The cheap sawdust sets, the dust-free costumes (except for tobacco chompin' Dermot Mulroney, who is "Pigpen" to the rest of the Peanuts Gang cast), the barely awake performances by Yoda-like mentor Terence Stamp and bad guy Jack Palance, and the flat-out arrogance of some of the cast members. At the time, they may have been the masters of the universe -- emblematic success stories of the Reagan era. Now, Emilio Estevez's Billy the Kid is a cute nihilist, a maniac winking at the camera to let us know deep down, he's really svelte Emilio.
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Right now I'm as excited about the medium of film as I was during my first film lit class in high school.
I've just seen John Sayles' "Limbo," a 200-proof character study so engrossing, intelligent and intellectually rewarding that by 60 minutes into the movie I was already antsy to see it a second time.
The story revolves around three people -- a mother, her daughter and her lover -- who become stranded on a remote Alaskan island during a sailboat outing that turns violent when double-crossed drug traffickers come calling for another passenger.
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Feige thinks a "new thing" could be on the horizon.
The Netflix original series is in hot waters with mental health experts.