I Am Woman movie review: more a purr than a roar
A winsome Tilda Cobham-Hervey leads a rote rags-to-riches tale, though its rampant sexism is a villain women will recognize. Needs to be seen, even if it’s not quite the tribute Helen Reddy deserves.
Johnny Cash
My Darling Vivian documentary review: from ardent lover to cold hard Cash (SXSW 2020)
Nascent celebrity culture and the myth of the artist’s muse are skewered by the tale of Johnny Cash’s first wife, Vivian Liberto, told by her daughters and a trove of vintage photos and love letters.
Rocketman movie review: what makes a rock star, and what unmakes him
Joyful and rowdy, self-deprecating and vulnerable, absolutely electrifying as it deconstructs the sex-drugs-and-rock’n’-roll story. Taron Egerton is chills-inducingly good. Sheer cinematic magic.
Killing Them Softly (trailer)
Enjoy some badass Brad Pitt set to some badass Johnny Cash.
December 18: DVD alternatives to this weekend’s multiplex offerings
We know how it is: You’d like to go to the movies this weekend, but you really hate those 3D glasses– oh, who are we kidding: you’re gonna see Avatar this weekend if you have to knock over someone’s granny for a ticket. But just in case you’re feeling the slightest bit guilty about having … more…
the oh-no! DVD of the week: ‘Johnny Cash Christmas Special 1976-1979’
Now, I love Johnny Cash, but something about this terrifies me. Perhaps one Christmas special on its own would be fine, but the piling on of them just feels wrong. Did we learn nothing from the plague of 70s celebrity variety shows?
Mad Money (review)
Oh, it’s completely implausible, sure, but rather enticing as well: could three low-level employees at a Federal Reserve bank really walk out the front door with wads of bills that had been destined to be shredded?
Walk the Line (review)
I cannot stop listening to the *Walk the Line* soundtrack. No, seriously. I’ll play ‘Ring of Fire,’ like, half a dozen times over and over before I start to worry about my sanity and then let the CD continue… and then a few tracks later it’ll be ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ half a dozen times. I’m not well. I left the screening room on Monday afternoon with Johnny Cash’s voice– no, with Joaquin Phoenix’s where’d-he-get-*that*-from baritone echoing in my head, and I ran to Tower Records to snatch up the CD only to be thwarted: it would not be released until the next day. Torture, I tell you, to wait 24 hours for the thing, and it’s gonna be worn out before Christmas.
