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The Silence of the Lambs is one of the most effective thrillers ever made (and the only film of its kind ever to win an Academy Award for Best Picture). As often as it’s imitated, no movie has come close to replicating the intensity, the dread, and the feeling that the viewer is in the company of evil… until now. I’m not referring to The Bone Collector, despite what some people are saying. I’m talking about a little independent film called Oxygen.
Like writer/director Mike Judge’s previous endeavors — TV’s King of the Hill and Beavis and Butt-Head — Office Space, his first live-action film is, at first glance, lightweight and slight, if highly amusing. But lurking beneath the sitcom surface is pointedly drawn satire that uses the tiniest of minutia of an ordinary, well-known environment — like KOTH’s middle-class suburb or, here, the corporate workplace — to throw into sharp focus the things that we all love, hate, and love to hate about everyday American life in the 90s.
The Insider, Michael Mann, Marie Brenner, The Man Who Knew Too Much, Vanity Fair, Eric Roth, Al Pacino, Lowell Bergman, Russell Crowe, Jeffrey Wigand, Christopher Plummer, Mike Wallace, Diane Venora, Philip Baker Hall, Don Hewitt, Gina Gershon, Hallie Kate Eisenberg, Brown and Williamson, Brown & Williamson, tobacco, cigarette, 60 Minutes, CBS, television, journalism, journalist, whistleblower, whistleblowing
It’s the rawness of having a man’s unfulfilled — possibly unfulfillable — dreams on such open display that makes a tiny part of me wish that American Movie were in fact a fake.
Portraits Chinois (Shadowplay) plays like a less-goofy, French version of Friends, following a group of young, single Parisians over the course of a year or so as they deal with career frustration and watch their love lives implode.
But if you knew when we as a species were going to buy the farm, how would you spend your final hours? That’s the question Canadian filmmaker Don McKellar asks in Last Night, which he wrote, directed, and stars in. Sort of the flip side of movies like Armageddon and Deep Impact, Last Night focuses not on the heroes trying to save the planet from certain doom but instead peeks in at how ordinary people are facing the end of the world.
An out-of-work puppeteer unwittingly discovers a portal into the brain of actor John Malkovich. That bald description of the film’s strikingly original concept doesn’t even begin to cover how deliciously odd Being John Malkovich is.
Waiter, waiter! This food is terrible! And the portions are too small! That’s kinda the way I feel about The Faculty. It’s another bad, bad, bad installment in Kevin Williamson’s neverending quest to send-up teen horror flicks, and it doesn’t even get all the dumb cliches right. If you can’t expect a teen horror flick to deliver lots of gratuitously naked breasts and kids having gratuitous sex and then getting gratuitously killed, what has this world come to? I mean, really!
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