Trust (review)

For a goodly while, it does feel, depressingly, as if Trust is going to morph into one of those luridly melodramatic made-for-Lifetime flicks gone theatrical feature thanks to the presence of a stellar cast…

Cyrus (review)

Behold mumblecore! It’s just like regular-movie-core, but with hipster cred. Except it’s just more of the same old shit roughed up around the edges…

Hamlet 2 (review)

You could almost call it, *Where Do Dreams Go to Die?,* this satire that’s so insightful about art and hope and ambition and enthusiasm — and their flip sides of anger and frustration and embarrassment and derailment — that it’s actually painful at times.

Adaptation (review)

I should probably watch Being John Malkovich again before I try to write this. I’ve got the DVD here somewhere. It’s vitally important that I watch BJM again right now. I could just put it on for a while. I could write while I’m watching it. I can do that.

Death to Smoochy and Panic Room (review)

A movie is never more of a crushing disappointment than when you’ve gotten your hopes up, when against your better judgment you’ve bought into the hype and the advertising and the how-can-it-miss high concept. Imagine how sad the entire geek community is going to be if Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man sucks. (But it can’t suck, right? Right? I mean, it’s Sam Raimi. It’s Spider-Man. Please, whatever movie gods there are, don’t make it suck. Don’t do that to us.)