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Oh, glorious steampunk! Oh, glorious Victoriana! Oh, for a time when men were men (and not little boys) and industry meant hard work (and not corporate malfeasance) and optimism (and not despair) ruled the day. When the future was so bright, you hadda wear shades.
Dogs doing people things and enjoying it are always hilarious.
Martin Scorsese made a 3D kids’ movie that’s about movies. That’s about the love of movies. And it’s steampunky and rollicking and features a cool girl character, too. How is it possible that I won’t love this movie?
It is leaden where it should be light. It is graceless and charmless. It reels from the painful banter. It is the epitome of empty soulless corporate filmmaking.
Asks the tough question: Should we remember every horrid detail of the past, or is it better to sometimes let the past go?
Those clever sneaky Pixar folks are warning us that if we Americans don’t clean house, we’re going to bring the whole world down with us, and the entirety of human civilization will collapse into a nasty soup of irrationality and ignorance.
This is how you get your arthouse-averse friends to watch a foreign fil-um: show them The Concert. Yes, they’ll have to read subtitles, but it is just simply crammed with so much Hollywood feel-good that a studio remake is surely just around the corner, probably starring Reese Witherspoon with a French accent and Stanley Tucci pulling a Russian one.
Who knew the Hollywood Foreign Press Association had such a sense of humor? A nomination for Best Motion Picture, Musical or Comedy, for The Tourist? Unless… No… They can’t mean “Inadvertent Comedy,” can they?
I sincerely cannot help but worry, with no snarkiness intended whatsoever, whether Clint Eastwood has gone senile. He is 80, after all. I hope this not the case, of course, and I certainly don’t wish it on the guy, but I can’t imagine what else explains this utterly baffling film.
The movie is build from bricks of ridiculous mortared together with the preposterous and painted over with the hugely unlikely. But that don’t mean I didn’t have a blast while I was sitting there in the screening room quaffing it.
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