Rush Hour 3 (review)
Can you understand the words that are comin’ outta my mouth? This is racist, bullying garbage.
Can you understand the words that are comin’ outta my mouth? This is racist, bullying garbage.
Stardust opens tomorrow, and some who’ve seen the film in advance have been calling it “the next Princess Bride.” Alas, this isn’t quite the case … and I say that as the gal who literally wrote the book on that film. But it’s entertaining enough that it may whet your appetite for other (and somewhat … more…
I’m making do with a standard upconverting DVD player for the moment (instead of going HD or Blu-ray) because I’m seriously in the grips of techno-fatigue lately.
Finally, what we’ve all been waiting for: a romantic suspense movie that doesn’t muck about with any of that tedious romance. Or suspense.
This is what talk shows should look and sound like: no holds barred and no bullshit.
Oh, dear. It’s an entire movie about farts.
It’s not quite ‘My Big Fat Syrian Forbidden Romance,’ but almost.
Smart, wise, and effortlessly appealing, this is an uncomplicated but sneakily profound tale…
A vague, disjointed daydream passing for a film…
An excruiciating stew of kindergarten-level toilet humor and absurd (and false) sentimentality…