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Long rumored — long threatened? — writer-director-producer-star Flatley’s self-financed pabulum opus is baffling and hilariously awful. It exists only because an incredibly rich man has money to burn.
Movies are fantasy factories, creating places that do not exist in the real world: settings so hugely imaginative that they could not possibly exist, and settings that could conceivable exist, yet don’t.
Kudos to J.J. Abrams for doing something extraordinary: he has made me not care about Star Wars for the first time ever. I’m kind of relieved that it’s over, because it has stopped being fun.
An elegant potboiler that judiciously balances psychological and physical suspense, one that feels like a romantic drama from WWII only recently rediscovered.
An immediate and intimate tale of forbidden romance and other complex emotions and contradictory obligations. This ain’t history but a very human now.
The members of the Online Film Critics Society — of which I am one — have jointly ranked the 86 movies that have won the Academy Award for Best Picture.
(Because science can now encode a movie into DNA.) Just to be ironic, I would have to inject Fantastic Voyage.
Stuff my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
Stuff my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
I want to know what you think makes a movie great, and how your personal greatest film impacted your determination of what makes for great cinema in general.
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