The film is helped admirably by the two slutty waitresses -- admirably played by Marisa Ryan and Amy Hathaway -- two girls who clearly hate each other only slightly less than they hate their own lives. The rest of the film is a bit forgettable -- a bunch of tired jokes about condoms and froufrou drinks, but at least it's not a total loss. Here's to hoping Ryan and Hathaway move on to brighter things!
Continue reading: Sex And Bullets Review
Never before have I seen a movie try so hard to be deliberately awful -- and succeed so wildly -- as "Wet Hot American Summer," a nickel-budget sketch-comedy spoof of early '80s teen sex-at-camp romps like "Little Darlings" and "Meatballs."
Created by veterans of cable "Saturday Night Live" knock-offs "The State" and "Upright Citizens' Brigade," it's a loose jumble of too-obvious jabs at the genre through stock characters in grossly under-rehearsed vignettes that are absentmindedly filmed and edited together without rhythm and apparently at random.
You've got your dorky virgin (Michael Showalter) making an ass of himself for the unattainable girl (Marguerite Moreau). She prefers the inimical, self-styled stud in the jean jacket (the under-appreciated Paul Rudd in the movie's only truly funny performance). He, in turn, prefers the company of your ubiquitous pubescent sluts in tube tops.
Continue reading: Wet Hot American Summer Review
When a movie says it's "based on" a true story, all too often it means that after the script doctors get through with it, what's left is too predictable and packed with clichés to bear any resemblance to the randomness of real life. Such is the case with "Riding In Cars With Boys."
But it just so happens that clichés and predictability are director Penny Marshall specialty. Idle since "A League of Their Own" -- which was totally trite yet thoroughly enjoyable -- Marshall applies her syrupy, low-cal sentimentality to this adapted autobiography of writer Beverly Donofrio, whose youthful ambition was derailed in 1965, by getting knocked up at age 15.
A maudlin but self-deprecating, bittersweet comedy-drama in which major crises are solved with little more than hugs, Beverly's journey through motherhood would be the stuff of a Lifetime Channel movie-of-the-week if not for its gusty sense of humor and a phenomenal performance of extraordinary depth and range by the previously beguiling but frivolous Drew Barrymore.
Continue reading: Riding In Cars With Boys Review
Everything's jake to Johnny Twenties. Johnny is a newspaper man, see. He's got moxie and nobody's gonna play him for a sucker -- even if he is blissfully unaware of the world he lives in.
You see, Johnny Twenties is about 70 years behind the times. He's a fast-talkin', wise-crackin' upright joe straight out of a Howard Hawks comedy -- but he's resides in Manhattan, circa 1999.
The fedora-sporting hero of the neo-B-grade, screwball comedy "Man of the Century," Johnny is the invention of screenwriters Adam Abraham (who directed the film) and Gibson Frazier (who plays Johnny), who have created an ingenious homage to the kind of flicks that came and went in a week the 1920s and 1930s -- the kind of dime-a-dozen comedies that delighted the masses during the Depression, but will probably never be seen on American Movie Classics now.
Continue reading: Man Of The Century Review
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When a movie says it's "based on" a true story, all too often it means...
Never before have I seen a movie try so hard to be deliberately awful --...
Everything's jake to Johnny Twenties. Johnny is a newspaper man, see. He's got moxie and...