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Based on an actual open-air drug market on a corner in a rundown section of Baltimore, this harrowing HBO miniseries uses real stories and real names to depict how drug abuse and poverty ravage inner-city families and neighborhoods, and how those in their grip still manage to maintain a sense of humor and hope for … more…
Steve Harvey and Cedric the Entertainer may be two of the hottest comedians working today, but you’d never know it from this obvious, tired showcase for the two of them. Continuing in the long, undistinguished tradition of TV shows built around “personalities,” Harvey stars as “Steve” and Cedric as “Cedric,” teachers at a pretend-tough urban … more…
Spare and beautiful visually, lush and bracing aurally, this ardent celebration of flamenco dance and music is bursting with the most fiery of emotions: love and lust and murderous rage. In dusty Andalusia in Spain, rival gipsy clans are heading for a final showdown in their most recent of blood feuds, but until that happens, … more…
It’s a measure of how, like, totally influential this little film was 20 years ago that there seems to be nothing special about it today. A punk from Hollywood and a girl from the Valley hook up? It’s like soooo who cares? But director Martha Coolidge’s transference of Romeo and Juliet to Southern California introduced … more…
It’s been sitting on a shelf since 1997 and the director is the pseudonymous “Allen Smithee” — one of these signs alone would be enough to set off alarms, and together they should spell disaster. And yet here we have a finely attuned and deftly executed little film, unassuming and unpretentious, about hustlers in Hollywood … more…
She’s the pop diva against which all others are measured, and that extends to her adventures in movie-stardom, too. With her flair for madcap comedy and a compelling intensity in dramatic roles, Barbra Streisand puts the likes of J.Lo and Britney to shame, as this collection demonstrates beautifully. Two 1972 films — Peter Bogdanovich’s goofy … more…
The music swells over the moment of victory, tears run freely down my face, fade to black, movie over. And I want to sob even longer and harder. Usually the rolling credits and the lights coming up in this kind of situation means a letup in the girly crying, but not this time. There’s something else going on besides the usual Oscar-baiting, triumph-of-the-human-and-equine-spirit shrink-wrapped Gourmet Film.
Have you not been making your required four-times-a-day supplication to Ben-and-Jen, wherein you turn to face Hollywood and think good thoughts that they actually survive as a gossip-worthy couple till their wedding? There’s really no excuse for not worshipping the adorably cutesy-poo celebrity cuddlekins of the moment, but if you haven’t, you can make up for it by taking in *Gigli* at least three times this weekend.
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