Nevertheless, I'm going to comment, mainly out of habit.
Continue reading: Beavis And Butt-Head Do America Review
Atom Egoyan, the avant-garde Canadian filmmaker born in Egypt to Armenian parents, has a chip on his shoulder the size of the Great White North. And that chip is Armenia. Obviously harboring a deep guilt for his living high on the hog in the West while his ancestors were massacred in the motherland, Egoyan never misses a chance to revisit Armenia as a theme in his films -- even if, say, it's a movie about a strip club and a dead girl (Exotica). And invariably Egoyan casts his wife Khanjian as an Armenian of some sort, always taking the time to let us know she's Armenian with the subtext that she should be pitied.
Continue reading: Ararat Review
On July 1 of that year, four people were savagely beaten to death in a Laurel Canyon apartment that had long been a party hangout and drug-dealing haven; a fifth person was put into intensive care. Holmes (Val Kilmer) was at the center of the tangle of paranoia, greed, and confusion that led to the massacre. Always hanging out at the apartment scamming drugs for his vacuum-like habit, Holmes incurs the enmity of the hard cases living there (played by Tim Blake Nelson, Dylan McDermott in a frighteningly unconvincing biker beard, and Josh Lucas). To make it up to them, Holmes acts as their inside man for a robbery of the palatial home of his buddy Eddie Nash (Eric Bogosian), who just happens to be one of the biggest club-owners in Southern California and a bona-fide gangster, to boot. Things go poorly after the robbery, to say the least.
Continue reading: Wonderland (2003) Review
As possibly the last film to come out from Merchant Ivory Productions before the May 2005 passing away of Ismail Merchant, Heights is a good deal more lively than the stiff-necked product the duo became known for, but still suffers from a certain bloodlessness. Based on a one-act play and stretched to its limit, the film follows a few New Yorkers through their day as they run about Chelsea and downtown, leading artistic lives and holding some very obvious secrets. Somewhere along the way the viewer is supposed to go "ah!" as the disparate elements come clicking together, but they're more likely to have lost interest at that point, as the light comedy is continually interspersed with a leavening of twentysomething lassitude.
Continue reading: Heights Review
In the allegory-seeking hands of director Agnieszka Holland (Total Eclipse), no opportunity is resisted for family dinner flashbacks where sinister dad Sam Shepard knocks over the turkey and throws young Gary around the room. Religious fervor is represented through wide-eyed mania in Shepard's resident madman and Amy Madigan's Carrie-tinged Mormon mother. More interesting are the prison scenes (shades of Oz), where Ribisi and Koteas are boxed in by walls of glass, steel, and wire frames. Unfortunately, the two ferociously talented lead performers are encouraged to conform to Actor's Studio emoting--Koteas can't keep still, Ribisi's hands are constantly kneading handy props (and, barring that, are continually rubbing away thinly veiled tears).
Continue reading: Shot In The Heart Review
Riegert will probably have the last laugh. He's starred in some real gems, like Local Hero and Traffic, and he even earned an Oscar nomination for his short film, By Courier.
Continue reading: King Of The Corner Review
Gossip does not get rid of that taste.
Continue reading: Gossip Review
Pretty much taking pot-shots at everyone he's ever known, every establishment he can think of, every vice there is, and--mostly--himself... that's your basic summary of Deconstructing Harry. Allen is vulgar and crass, wholly unlikeable... but hysterical. Maybe the funniest part of the film is the cast of stars he's lined up, all of whom do nothing but get spit upon the whole time! Suckers! (The movie is told half in reality, half as visualizations of writer Harry Block's (Allen) stories, thus, the large cast.)
Continue reading: Deconstructing Harry Review
Bogosian is Barry Champlain, a brilliant loudmouth gab machine hosting a popular nightly talk show filled with his strong opinions and whack-job listeners. One fears her garbage disposal. One begs to visit Barry at the studio. And one (many?) offer the Jewish host death threats in the name of Nazism.
Continue reading: Talk Radio Review
And while I can understand how laziness can motivate a writer/director to base yet another movie on waitstaff working thankless jobs in a restaurant while dreaming of lives on the outside (just imagine how big the audience of waiters and waitresses must be!), I can't begin to fathom why he'd title that film In the Weeds -- and why a studio like Miramax would allow that title to stick on the eventual straight-to-DVD release that occurs five years after the film's production.
Continue reading: In The Weeds Review