Originally performed on the stage, Psycho Beach Party is the story of a teenage girl who wants desperately to surf. It's also the story of a female cop who used to be a man. And some homoerotic surfers. And a beautiful movie star who's hiding from Hollywood. And an alcoholic mother with no grasp of the present. And a psychotic killer who hacks people up for their imperfections. And it all takes place at Malibu Beach in 1962.
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Following the critically and commercially massacred American Outlaws, Texas Rangers also tried to spin American history with a hippish, young cast, in this case Dawson's Creek star James Van Der Beek, Ashton Kutcher, and Usher Raymond -- as the first recruits of what would become the famous Texas Rangers.
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At its heart, the movie is a haunted house flick in the vein of recent films like House on Haunted Hill and Thirteen Ghosts, albeit one that takes a long time to get going, a long time to build up a story, and a long time to get over with. But they had a lot of commercials to sell, so who can fault them, huh?
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The heroine of "Splendor," Gregg Araki's new anything goes sex comedy, is irresistibly adorable -- a sexy, spunky, sparkling Generation Y Holly Golightly with bouncy, ringlet hair and a freckled nose.
But aside from inspiring the protective vibe in every guy she meets and lighting a fire in their loins as well, Veronica (Kathleen Robertson) doesn't have much going for her. She's shallow, self-absorbed, irresponsible and so wildly ambivalent that the plot hinges entirely on her inability to decide between three lovers.
Two of them -- struggling writer Abel (Johnathon Schaech) and dim-bulb punk rock drummer Zed (Matt Keeslar) -- are so whipped by Veronica's considerable charms that they agree to share the girl and her bed, and both boys move in, forming an oddly harmonious threesome in the big, funky L.A. flat she can inexplicably afford on her salary as an office temp and aspiring actress.
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The minute Kevin Williamson said no to writing "Scream 3," that should have been the end of it. The only thing that made "Scream" special in the first place was the writer's dark, self-aware wit regarding the conventions of the cheesy teen horror genre.
But then, Williamson had already run out of steam when he wrote the series' second installment, which was little more than an unnecessarily convoluted, workaday slasher flick with a couple well-placed sardonic remarks.
Continuing the decline, now comes "Scream 3," which Wes Craven -- the director of the whole series -- swears will be the last one. Good thing, too.
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