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*Bug* isn’t entirely as ooky-spooky as it thinks it is — the more it embraces its ethos of nervous paranoia and conspiracy-spiked secrecy, the less satisfying it becomes, as if putting a concrete name to the madness somehow makes it less mad.
Oh, thank the gods. Thank crazy Walt Disney’s head in a cryogenic freezer. Thank the army of producers and FX geeks and writers and cast and studio execs and focus-group gurus and everyone else who made this prepackaged, ready-for-synergy-marketing, lowest-common-denominator junk cinema the most cheesalicious, escape-a-riffic it could be.
It’s funny how we can go from a comedy about molestation — Garry Marshall’s repulsive *Georgia Rule* — that’s not just desperately unfunny but actively disgusting to a comedy about professionally unethical behavior, spousal abuse, adultery, and stalking that is warmly bittersweet, genuinely funny, and sincerely heartfelt. But there we are.
It’s not even summer yet, but already it’s the summer of the three-quel, and already we’re oh-no for two. I’m tellin’ ya, if *Pirates the Third* is this ho-hum, I’m gonna curl up in bed and hibernate till September.
Though the film intrigues me intellectually, it doesn’t make me feel anything: and movies for me are primarily emotional experiences. By that measure, ‘The Fountain’ fails for me. But it’s one of the more interesting cinematic failures I’ve ever seen.
If you don’t want to strangle the insufferably smug James Lipton by the time his interview with Johnny Depp is over, well, put that down to Depp, whose intense thoughtfulness and obvious humility in the face of his own phenomenal talent and extraordinary success make this almost worth a look. Prompted by Lipton’s questions, which … more…
Oh my. The Village Voice calls this “an astonishingly voluptuous skeleton key to Matthew Barney,” who is “the most important American artist of his generation,” according to The New York Times. Well. Call me a philistine, but I don’t get it. But hey: that’s okay. The New York Times’ chief art critic, Michael Kimmelman, is … more…
“Full-length movie. Full of boogers!” promises the blobby green sticker on the DVD. And it’s true. But somehow, the tons of gross-out potty humor manages to be delightfully goofy — perhaps it’s the irresistibly cheerful spin cartoonist Maxwell Atoms puts on his demented twisting of kiddie cartoons. Billy and Mandy are regular suburban kids — … more…
I’m mystified as to who the audience is for this rough but charmingly enthusiastic documentary about contemporary science fiction fandom. Those already in the thralls of fandom (like, ahem, me) won’t find a single surprising or unexpected thing in the background of fandom — we know we’re oddballs who flock to conventions (or “cons”) in … more…
It’s Nancy Drew meets Sherlock Holmes! Doctor Who’s superspunky Billie Piper has to demure down her total kickassness to a proper Victorian ladylike level to play Sally Lockhart, girl detective, but Piper cannot hide how damn cool she is. Based on a novel by Phillip Pullman (whose The Golden Compass arrives in a big-screen adaptation … more…
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