Julius Harris

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Live And Let Die Review


Good
A true guilty pleasure among Bond films. Who can forget a young Jane Seymour as Solitaire, a psychic held captive? Or Clifton James as Louisiana Sheriff Pepper, the most colorful character the Bond series has produced? Or Tee Hee and his mechanical arm? Or Geoffrey Holder (the voice of 7-UP) as the evil Baron Samedi? Or the best theme song ever (by Paul McCartney and Wings)? Certainly not me, though I had to be reminded that this was a Bond-gets-drug-smugglers story. But the early-'70s pop culture exudes throughout this flick. It's certainly a unique entry into the Bond oeuvre (not to mention the first appearance of Roger Moore.)

Continue reading: Live And Let Die Review

Live And Let Die Review


Good
A true guilty pleasure among Bond films. Who can forget a young Jane Seymour as Solitaire, a psychic held captive? Or Clifton James as Louisiana Sheriff Pepper, the most colorful character the Bond series has produced? Or Tee Hee and his mechanical arm? Or Geoffrey Holder (the voice of 7-UP) as the evil Baron Samedi? Or the best theme song ever (by Paul McCartney and Wings)? Certainly not me, though I had to be reminded that this was a Bond-gets-drug-smugglers story. But the early-'70s pop culture exudes throughout this flick. It's certainly a unique entry into the Bond oeuvre.

King Kong (1976) Review


Unbearable
Not even Charles Grodin, in his campiest, hammiest role of all time -- if not the campiest, hammiest role of all time -- can salvage this remake of the 1933 classic beyond one-starsville. This is frankly one of the worst films ever made, a useless and unwanted recreation of the past. Kong is actually a man in a monkey suit, smashing up miniature sets. Jeff Bridges' beard reminds you of a Brillo pad. Jessica Lange's outfits remind you of a hooker's (and of course, she falls in love with the magilla). It's over two hours long and when it isn't wholly laughable, it's utterly boring. And who, when on the run from a giant ape marauding New York City, drops into a bar for a drink?

Superfly Review


Grim
Ron O'Neil's name in Superfly is actually Youngblood Priest, and that's not the only part that's been forgotten about this oft-referenced but little-seen exploitation flick. Mainly, the world that's thrilled to "superfly" as a hip term has forgotten how lame this production actually is. Drug dealer, big score, wants to get out of the biz. Yawn. That he invites a blood feud into his world and bangs a procession of honeys is almost beside the point. Skip it.
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