Danged if the flick don’t feel like the Coen Brothers, if it ain’t redolent with the wonderfully odd tang of farce and feeling that they invariably bring to, at least, their lighter films.
I’m wildly intrigued by *Public Enemies* even though I readily concede that character development is all but nonexistent, and that it leaves me more wanting to know who notorious bank robber John Dillinger was than I did before I went into the film.
opening wide Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen: We do not negotiate with Decepticons, okay? Let’s roll. My Sister’s Keeper: Have you heard? It’s very sad when people die of cancer. I had no idea. So glad someone told me. opening limited The Hurt Locker: Maybe we could send Jeremy Renner to disarm that bit of … more…
Damn if there ain’t enough street racing in this here street racing movie.
It sends a shiver up my spine just thinking about the movie now, even as I gaze out the window onto a gorgeous, happy, sunshiny day. It’ll be great when this one finally comes out on DVD, cuz then I’ll be able to curl up on the couch in the middle of the night wrapped in an old afghan for protection and give myself the wild heebie-jeebies watching it.
The Silence of the Lambs is a psychological thriller of the highest order, and well deserving of the unusual Oscar nod for Best Picture, never before bestowed upon a film like this. Before or since, action/horror has never been done so well or so cerebrally.
Tom Stoppard, I’ll grant you, is infinitely more clever and more talented than your run-of-the-mill fan-fiction writer. But he’s doing exactly the same thing as those hordes of writers who have continued and expanded upon the adventures of the crew of the Enterprise, the owner of the TARDIS, those two FBI agents down in the basement, and the fictional denizens of a zillion other cultish TV shows.