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A familiar modern Robin Hood story gets a vicious kick of authenticity in this true tale of a white cop in 1970s apatheid South Africa who goes rogue. Andre Stander (The Punisher‘s Thomas Jane, in the performance that may finally earn him the recognition he deserves) was the youngest captain on the Johannesburg police force … more…
The story of Australian cult figure Kelly — a 19th-century Robin Hood–esque outlaw, child of an underclass of Irish immigrants — is a tricky film, punctuated by bursts of staccato surrealism and bitter humor, hard to love unreservedly but easy to appreciate for its ambition. Heath Ledger (The Order) finds a wary, cautious groove as … more…
So the lights go down and the movie starts and it’s like an assault. And my new friend Brian, who had been assuring me that I couldn’t possibly be more psyched to see this film than he was, he who had obviously made something of a hobby of zombie movies at some vulnerable point during his formative years — and it’s true; I had only seen the original Romero flick for the first time the day before — turns to me and asks plaintively, ‘I *wanted* to see this?’
A thoroughly absurd homeless-men-as-prey-for-gun-happy-rich-schmucks action flick. Lacks all suspense and mystery, though it thinks it has some sort of social conscience. It does not.
It’s probably a good thing that there isn’t, cuz the culties would be disappointed in this new *Starsky & Hutch.* The only thing that’s even remotely ‘Starsky & Hutch’ about this goofy adaptation is the red and white Ford Gran Torino.
The words I keep coming back to, the ones that seem to fit this most astonishing of films best, are ‘terrible’ and ‘awful.’ The old-fashioned senses of the words are what I’m talking about: Peter Jackson has given us a grandly eloquent film that inspires more terror and more awe than anything I’ve seen in a long time. I can compare my reaction to it only with the moviegoing experiences of my childhood, when the hugeness, the all-encompassing-ness of movies in all ways — emotionally, viscerally, visually, aurally — first astounded me, when ‘Night on Bald Mountain’ and Darth Vader’s stormtroopers horrified me to such a degree that I can still feel it.
This isn’t what I was expecting. I figured on clanging swords and thundering cannons and lots of swashbuckling, but this buckles far less swash than I imagined it would. I was expecting pulpy action adventure that was a whole lot of movie fun — I wasn’t expecting pulpy action adventure with real smarts and genuine heart and a grounding in reality.
Why do slasher movies make us laugh in the instant after we jump and scream? When comedy works, it’s for the same reason that horror does: It surprises us, and laughter and screams emanate from that same primitive lizard part of our brains, one that reacts before we can think.
Of course it’s Michael Bay-ariffic in that adorably ultraviolent, homophobic kinda way, all vehicles exploding for no apparent reason and deeply repressed male emotions, the kind of stuff that can’t help but lead one to the conclusion that Michael Bay is denying that he has some serious issues with, really, just about everything he comes into contact with: women, men, cars, swimming pools, family pets, home electronics.
Rowan Atkinson (Scooby-Doo) has successfully straddled the full spectrum of funny, from the sharp intellectual wordplay of Blackadder to the pathos-imbued silent comedy of Mr. Bean. Here, alas, he lands somewhere squarely in the uninspired middle with a character who is by turns bumbling and sophisticated, idiotic and brainy, dorky and irresistible to women, contradictions … more…
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