Assassins review

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
July 2, 2010

An unusually serious, verging on cheerless thriller from the versatile action grower Joel Silver in which Stallone’s a sated assassin haunted by the past but unqualified to skin the future. As Robert Rath, he gives his best exhibition as a service to some outdated, abandoning the self-parody of Demolition Man and the risible muscle-flexing of The Professional in favour of a more contained stillness. If only director Donner had inspired Banderas with the same confidence in this essentially generic, but involving scenario; as Miguel Bain, however, an parvenue obsessed with inheriting Rath’s position as the world’s number-sole assassin, he’s horribly embarrassing, acting throughout like a St Vitus Social sufferer on amphetamines. Plotwise, things are straightforward. Julianne Moore has unwittingly acquired a computer disk containing dangerously incriminating information, Stallone’s hired to kill her, but is having a mid-being career crisis, the irascible guys and Interpol are slaughtering entire lot that moves, and Banderas is the joker in the pack. Between the hits, machine chases and gunfire, there are numerous quiet scenes in darkened rooms in which Sharp and Moore discover an connection in their loneliness.

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Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003)

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
July 1, 2010

The original two Terminator films from James Cameron were instant classics of the action/sci-fi variety. Together, they made a encompassing slight story helter-skelter the dangers of reliance on machines, with amazing kill counts and action, with some odd time paradoxes thrown in to boot. A third film really didn’t seem necessary, but when you combine Schwarzenegger’s take the lead power and the money that is generated by these pictures, a third movie was probably inevitable. It doesn’t quite measure up to its predecessors, in part sufficient to Cameron’s scantiness, but it manages to be an exciting vitality piece that is enjoyable enough on its own merits.

John Connor (Nick Stahl) avoided the takeover of the excellent by Skynet and its machines in the before movie, but he nonetheless stays off the grid, keeping himself under cover to the extent thinkable. When he’s injured in an fluke, he sneaks into the veterinary clinic where Kate Brewster (Claire Danes) works to retain some medication. Two Terminators arrive from the unborn in which the machines have eliminated most of mankind, except for a recalcitrance led by the future Connor. One is the familiar T-101 (Schwarzenegger), sent to mind Connor again, and the unusual and improved TX (Kristanna Loken), which is constant to kill John and the ten people who are to be his lieutenants in the coming, including Kate. It seems Kate’s father, military man Robert Brewster (David Andrews) is about to activate Skynet, which will trigger a enormous nuclear attack by the machines, and with that foreknowledge Kate and John upon out to obviate the dystopian future from circumstance. But the TX is both ruthless and highly destructive, complete with plasma weaponry, so they are in deep pester.

Where Terminator 2 was deeply confident and optimistic, this sequel is precise much pessimistic. The days is certain, according to this version, and can at most be postponed, not prevented. It’s a deterministic nightmare that John Calvin would approve. It seems that if anything, the prospective can only contrive worse, since the TX is absolutely successful in killing John’s lieutenants-to-be, altering the coming pro the worse. As a result, the grim news is depressing, enlivened only by pure adrenaline and occasional glimpses of elation that speedily turn to ash.

The issue does, in spite of that, deliver the effectiveness sequences in spades. It’s for all practical purposes a non-stop off cascade of car crashes, chases, gun battles, mayhem and explosions, providing a visceral pulsation that is hard to restrain. Only at a few moments is there time to catch one’s breath, and they’re well-paced too. Captain Jonathan Mostow may not be James Cameron, but he never leaves a mitigate moment. There are a bunch of holes in the excuse, such as the easy willingness of the government to connect all computer systems to Skynet as a situation incidentally to deal with a computer virus, which is certainly antithetical to any accommodating of computer refuge. There are also some continuity glitches with the whilom films, such as John Connor’s maturity not being consistent with the prior movies.

Ahnuld is in threadlike behaviour aid in the leather-clad robotic role, and he’s definitely having a grievous time. Stahl provides a good intensity just on the bound of dementia that echoes the paranoia of Linda Hamilton’s character in the prior films. Claire Danes is an interesting casting rare pro Kate, giving a side-splitting disbelief to her endorse contacts with John and the Terminators, succeeded by acceptance and out exercise heroine status. Loken has an icy coldness reminiscent of Robert Patrick’s off-centre portrayal of the sin Terminator of the go along with film, with an edge of brutal viciousness. Earl Boen returns again in a very humorous little cameo that fans of the previous films will enjoy. It may not be great cinema, and not hold up to at hand scrutiny, but it silence manages to be pretty satisfying from a purely action movie angle.

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Little Fockers [Movie Trailer]

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 28, 2010

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"Little Fockers is an upcoming abomination and a supplement to Stumble on the Parents (2000) and its sequel Meet the Fockers (2004) starring Robert De Niro, Ben Stiller, Barbra Streisand, Dustin Hoffman and Teri Polo. It is the first film in the series not to be directed by Jay Roach and will a substitute alternatively be directed by Paul Weitz. In addition to the fresh colouring, Dwarf Fockers stars Raven-Symoné, Jessica Alba, Laura Dern and Harvey Keitel."

Days of Glory (2006)

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 27, 2010

Aurelie Eltvedt and Jamel Debbouze in
Aurelie Eltvedt and Jamel Debbouze in "Days of Glory," which casts the oft-told tale of Fantastic War II foot soldiers in a brisk and transatlantic light.
(By Roger Arpajou — The Weinstein Co.)

By Stephen Huntswoman

Washington Post Staff Journo

Friday, February 23, 2007

The weight of tragedy adheres to no human collection like an infantry platoon, as the French film (and Oscar nominee) "Days of Glory" makes clear.

Many of its members end up dead or maimed, the survivors dazed and bitter. They ask, "Why?" And the answer — "To save the world" — has little meaning.

Yet add to that already dreadful burden two more historical anvils, racism and imperialism, and you have a sense of what happened to the men of the French Expeditionary Corps, formed in 1943 of the Algerian Infantry Division, the 2nd Moroccan Infantry Division and the 4th Moroccan Mountain Division. These were not native Frenchmen but native North Africans: They lived in far lands of desert and scrub vegetation until an army marched in one day a century earlier, raised a strange three-colored flag and said: This is your destiny.

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And, as "Days of Glory" points out angrily, this is still happening to them since the French government has tried to bilk them — veterans of some of the most brutal fighting in the war for a "homeland" most had never seen and only learned about at the toe end of a boot — out of their pensions.

"Days of Glory" tells their story, and like many unit tributes from that war, it could be a better movie but it certainly convinces you of the nobility of the souls of the men whose boots were on the ground and whose bodies went into the same ground.

The director, Rachid Bouchareb, employs a familiar structure, the one so overused in the films of the late '40s and '50s that it became a cliche; it could be "Go for Broke" or "Battle Cry" or "Sands of Iwo Jima." A group of country boys, each with a unique yet universal background (poverty, oppression, hardscrabble lives, hopelessness), joins up, despite the doubts of parents. To save the motherland? Hmm, or is it a fatherland? Maybe it's an Uncleland or an Auntland or even a Bigwhiteguyland. Whatever, they climb aboard trucks, and soon find themselves in boots that don't fit, with rifles that are too heavy, climbing hills they don't recognize and being yelled at really loudly by a force of nature called a sergeant. They could be named Jack, Moses, Bill, Tom, Hans, Luigi, Taro or Ming. Their names happen to be Yassir, Messaoud, Said and Abdelkader.

The sergeant is a tough little popinjay named Martinez, who is hard to please and always knows what's right. They fear him, they love him, they hate him, they need him. Bouchareb is extremely good at the dynamics between enlisted men and noncommissioned officer, and his Sarge is played with leathery invulnerability by Bernard Blancan. Meanwhile, a distant French officer class hovers over the multi-ethnic fighting force, with its conglomerations of Algerians, Moroccans and Tunisians, but seldom gets involved.

Is there anything new here? Honestly, not really. The content is the same, the plot the familiar litany of ordeals leavened by soapy interludes and the occasional title card "Provence — fall 1944." When it turns out the Algerian troops aren't getting tomatoes, the fiery Abdelkader (Samy Bouajila) protests and shames first Sgt. Martinez and then the snooty white Frenchmen into making sure every guy wearing the uniform of the Republic gets a tomato; at the same time, we're aware that protest has created a bond between the soldiers.

Individual issues alternate with well-staged scenes of slaughter. The poor Algerians and Moroccans always get the tough jobs, the suicidal attacks through rocky terrain on emplaced machine-gun positions through heavy artillery bombardment. Then Messaoud (Roschdy Zem) falls in love with a French girl and she with him, in the delirium of liberation. His drama: Was it just her freedom that made her romantic on a single evening or indeed, does she love him?

Yassir (Sami Naceri), with the tommy gun, joined for the simple pleasures of looting. It turns out to be a very good thing, in the last fight, that he never chucked the 10 pounds' worth of machined steel for something lighter because in certain situations, as the movie documents, nothing says "I will kill you" better than General Thompson's trench broom.

Said (Jamel Debbouze), the cute one who loved his mother, gets tired of being the company goat and stands up for himself; then, promoted to Martinez's gofer, he becomes a valuable and giving infantryman.

Bouchareb, of course, hadn't anything like Spielberg's budget for "Saving Private Ryan," so he can't afford a fleet of German armored vehicles grinding through French villages for his climax. But he does concoct one hell of a fight, which is similar to the carnage in "Ryan" in intensity, if not spectacle. The four guys manage to make it through to a town in Alsace out of which the Germans have just been pushed. But the Germans will be back, and the issue is simple: Do we cut and run? This isn't even our country, really, is it? Why stay and die in this strange, cold green place for people who think we're scum?

But the fight that develops is taut, tough and extremely bitter; it's never showy in the grinding big-movie Spielbergian way, but a portrait of the war's daily interface with hell in a very small space, as the four stand against a much larger unit. You think: Thank God for courage. And you think: Thank God for tommy guns. And you think: They're not peasants of color, they're heroes, and the French were lucky to have them, even if they seem not to have figured that out yet.


Days of Glory

(123 minutes, in French with English subtitles, at Landmark's Bethesda Row) is rated R for intense combat violence, some blood and brief profanity.

Smart, hip and well-acted, “…

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 25, 2010

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Smart, hip and well-acted, “Song of the Siren” was a box-office smash
in Israel last year and should have been slated as the

opening-night feature of the 15th annual Jewish film showcase.
Instead, it plays at 8 p.m. Saturday at the Castro, followed by “Sh’chur,”
a mediocre drama about Moroccan Jews in Israel, which opens the festival
tonight at 7.

The festival continues through July 27 at the Castro, and then moves to
the UC Theater in Berkeley for a six-day reprise. “Song of the Siren” will
kick off the Berke
ley event at 8:15 p.m. July 29.

Directed by Eytan Fox, “Song of the Siren” is a deliberately escapist
antidote to all the breast-
beating that dominates Israeli drama. Just as its lead character, the
self-absorbed Talila, chooses to ignore Gulf War paranoia, the movie makes
its stubborn plea for fun in the face of peril.

Based on a best-selling novel by Irit Linur, who’s been compared to Nora
Ephron, Cynthia Heimel and Fran Lebowitz, and who adapted her work for the
screen, “Song of the Siren” stars Dalit Kahan as Talila, a 32-year-old
advertising executive who dumps her vain, model-
handsome boyfriend (Yair Lapid), rebounds to a dreamy, uncommunicative
“food engineer” (Boaz Gur-Lavi) — and remains oblivious to Saddam
Hussein’s Scuds.

Even when air-raid sirens pierce the quiet, Talila fixates on her own
mishegass and that of her mixed-up family. Like Sarah Jessica Parker’s
character in “Miami Rhapsody,” she’s a sounding board for her sister’s and
parents’ problems, even though her own life is a model of disorder.

The milieu that Fox establishes is nothing like the Israel we typically
see in film and television. Talila’s world is one of upscale parties,
fashion and fast-track corporate advertising. Except for the fact that
everyone speaks Hebrew, it might as well be New York.

Talila’s sister, for example, is a candidate for an Israeli version of
“Absolutely Fabulous.” Her mother, for that matter, looks modeled after
Joan Collins’ “Dynasty” character: an over-moisturized pterodactyl in
designer suits.

For the record, Linur complained about the casting of the zaftig Kahan,
who looks like Mayim Balik from “Blossom” and was only 25 when she played
Talila. “I created a Doberman,” the author
lamented, “and they turned her into a poodle.”

Big deal. Sometimes, the best thing a director can do when adapting a
book is not to become enslaved to the source material, but to find a new
slant that works on screen. Kahan may be too young, but she brings a wry,
contemporary quality that feels right.

If “Song of the Siren” refreshes you with its frisky tale of yuppie
love, then “Sh’chur,” which looks at a large Moroccan family in 1972
Israel, should bring you back down. Written by Hana Azoulay Hasfari, who
based it on her family and also plays a TV newscaster looking back on her
childhood, it’s a series of heavy-handed, poorly acted anecdotes.

One of the performers, Ronit Alkabez, plays Hasfari’s retarded,
telekinetic sister so broadly that you want to throw a net over her. The
actor who conjures Hasfari’s father, a blind woodworker, shakes his head
like a Ray Charles satire and acts dumb.

“Sh’chur” was directed by Azoulay Hasfari’s husband, Shmuel. Instead
of saying something about the collision of Moroccan tradition with Israeli
culture, his film feels scattered.



JEWISH FILM FESTIVAL

The 15th Jewish Film Festival opens at 7 tonight at the Castro Theater,
Castro and Market streets, San Francisco, with a screening of “Sh’chur,”
an Israeli film by Shmuel Hasfari. The festival resumes Saturday at the
Castro, where it continues through July 27, and it repeats July 29-August 3
at the UC Theater, 2036 University Avenue, Berkeley. (510) 548-FILM. Daily
program information at the Castro: (415) 621-6120. At the UC: (510)
843-6267.

Kirk Wong ’s most daring film…

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 24, 2010

Kirk Wong’s most daring take: a unreservedly cynical imagine on the kung-fu genre crossed with dystopian sci-fi and an attitude on the way physical kinks straight incorrect of an early Lou Reed number cheaply. Ray Lui (the nominal hero) is killed off early, allowing the chunky Wong Lung-Wai to move centre stage as the stolid but effectively corruptible fighter who takes on transvestites, robotic dykes, newly synthesised hallucinogens and neo-Nazi megalomaniacs. This is what the French mean by dim maudit.

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Once upon a time, back in the…

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 22, 2010

Once upon a leisure, forsake in the mists of time known as 1969, there was a cheesy obscene-budget comedy entitled ?The Gay Deceivers? that told the agonizing story of a couple of direct guys who sham to be gay to avoid the draft and who then find themselves in the centre of any number of wacky hijinks involving their sexuality more willingly than learning valuable lessons about some damn thing or other. Released to vast detachment just before the Stonewall putsch rendered it obsolete and rarely revived since, it is the stripe of large screen that if you were to somehow encounter a infrequent minutes of it today, you superiority stare at it in sheer stupefaction previous turning it dotty and if you were in a generous mood, you might heed that it was made in a new time and about yourself lucky that you end in a more rational majority where such a covering could no longer be made. Alas, the more some things novelty, the more other things interruption the same and as proof of that, we in have ?I With it Express You Chuck And Larry,? a relentlessly under age, bottomlessly offensive and pathetically unfunny comedy about gay go to pieces that makes ?The Gay Deceivers? look like ?Brokeback Mountain? by juxtaposing. In fact, I can pretty much undertake that this is the worst film playing at a theater near you this weekend, even if your resident multiplex has held all through ?Captivity? for a inferior merchandise week and is sponsoring a progress of the top dog?s snip of ?Manos: The Hands of Nemesis.?

The film stars Adam Sandler and Kevin James as Chuck Levine and Larry Valentine, two New York City firefighters who are best pals despite their differences?Chuck is a studly ladies man who shuttles lingerie-clad bimbos in and out of his bedroom in groups of two and four (a development that can only be explained by the fact that Sandler is one of the producers of the film) while Larry is an amiable dope who is trying to raise his two kids, a tomboy daughter and a son who, horror of horrors, prefers musical theater to Little League, while mourning the death of his beloved wife three years earlier. Due to the kind of bureaucratic red tape that is so often found in one-note comedies, Larry discovers that since he never updated his insurance forms in the wake of his wife?s death, his children will not receive any of his benefits if he is killed while on duty. Under normal circumstances, someone in Larry?s position might raise a few complaints, perhaps talk to a newspaper reporter and otherwise stir up such a fuss that the snafu would be eliminated in a heartbeat.

Of course, if he did that, there would be no movie?an excellent idea under the circumstances?so he instead focuses on the fact that if he marries again, that person will get his benefits and his kids will be provided for if he dies. The hitch is that he won?t even look at another woman and the only person that he trusts is best pal Chuck. This might seem strange since this best pal spends an enormous amount of time mocking Larry?s weight and making snide cracks about his son?s possible sexuality but again, this can all be explained by the fact that Sandler is one of the producers and therefore, every nasty and hateful thing he says is apparently meant to be charming and endearing. Like most right-thinking people in the audience, Chuck thinks that this is a stupid and ill-advised idea but when Larry assures him that it will involve nothing more than signing a couple of pieces of paper and forwarding his mail for a few weeks, he grudgingly agrees.

Almost immediately, their domestic partnership is challenged by the state government, which suspects a scam, and they send out a creepy inspector (Steve Buscemi) who is determined to throw them in prison for fraud. At first, they figure that all they have to do is ?act gay? (i.e. buying lots of KY jelly, Q-Tips and copies of ?Brokeback Mountain?) but when that doesn?t seem to be working, their hottie attorney, Alex McDonough (Jessica Biel) advises them to make a formal show of their ?relationship? and so they travel up to Canada to get married. Eventually word begins to leak out about their supposed relationship and Chuck and Larry get to learn all about the horrors of anti-gay prejudice when their firehouse pals don?t want to play basketball with them anymore. To make matters worse, for the characters and those of us in the audience, Chuck finds himself falling in love with Alex?the kind of hard-nosed attorney who invites a client for a ?girls day out,? strips to her skivvies in front of him and insists that he feel her up to prove that her breasts are real (can?t wait to see how that gets listed on the billing sheets)?but can?t do anything without blowing the entire deal.

Eventually, the deal is more or less blown and the whole thing wraps up with that most desperate of movie climaxes, the courtroom scene. Many an Adam Sandler film has ended with some form of a courtroom scene but outside of the one in ?Reign Over Me,? I can?t think of one that has actually contained any real laughs and this is no exception. This is bad enough but what is even more insulting is the way that the film spends nearly two hours trafficking in every gay stereotype and insult imaginable (references to ?butt pirates,? a bit in which soap is indeed dropped in the shower and cameo appearances from Sandler buddies David Spade and Nick Swardson as mincing fops) and then tries to make up for it in the end by having Sandler?s character say ?The word ?faggot? is bad? as though that will somehow excuse the dozens of times it (and worse) were uttered earlier on. (Apparently it works because as a result, they suddenly and improbably become heroes amongst the very same gay population whom they have been mocking and exploiting.)

As idiotic and potentially tasteless as the premise of two straight guys who are assumed to be gay might sound, it could have theoretically inspired a funny film if it had been dealt with in a witty and intelligent matter. (I point you to that classic ?Seinfeld? episode where Jerry and George were ?outed? by a newspaper reporter.) However, it appears that wit and intelligence were tossed into the closet early on in favor of the kind of broad, stereotypical and borderline homophobic humor that the typical Sandler frat-boy audience would more readily respond to and which recently made a disturbingly popular comeback in the recent ?Wild Hogs.? If you can think of a joke, cliche or derogatory term involving gays (while still keeping within the bounds of the all-important PG-13 rating), you will surely find it here.

I take that back?there is one that you won?t see here and that would be the inevitable moment when the manly Sandler character finds himself actually kissing a man. The film sets us up for it a couple of times?once during the wedding ceremony and later during the interminable courtroom scene?but chickens out on both occasions by interrupting the potential smooch by deploying, respectively, a slap to the face and a sanctimonious speech by Dan Aykroyd. I?m not saying that I am particularly eager to witness the sight of Adam Sandler kissing a man (or anyone else for that matter) but the film goes so far out of its way to ensure that it doesn?t happen that the absence of such a scene is enough to raise some eyebrows. My suspicion is that such a moment existed in an earlier draft of the screenplay but that Sandler nixed it out of fear that his fans would violently reject it, even after being reminded that ?the word ?faggot? is bad.?

Despite the rampant homophobia in the film, I understand from on-line reports that Sandler showed the film to GLADD in order to prevent them from picketing screenings. Having seen the film, the only possible explanation for GLADD?s refusal to complain about the content is that when they saw it, they realized that the film is an equal-opportunity offender that takes cruel potshots at virtually every other group imaginable?perhaps realizing that he can?t do these dumb frat-boy comedies forever, perhaps Sandler decided to have one less blow out in which he could make cruel fun of everyone who isn?t Adam Sandler or Rudy Giuliani (who receives a bizarre late-inning shout-out that his presidential campaign probably won?t be knocking themselves over to exploit anytime soon). The women are all lightly-clad bimbos (and while I appreciate Biel?s willingness to show off her body in an otherwise undeserving film, I could get the same thing, along with better writing, by going down to the newsstand and picking up the latest ?GQ), the lone black character (Ving Rhames) is a threatening hulk (at least until his ?shocking? secret is revealed) and the fat people are all monstrous blobs who demand hero sandwiches even as they are being pulled from burning buildings. However, the worst and most offensive moment in a film rife with offensive moments comes when Rob Schneider pops up to play an Asian justice of the peace in a manner that hasn?t been seen since those old Warner Brothers cartoons that now inspire disclaimers from Whoopi Goldberg when they appear on DVD?the sight of him crossing his R?s and L?s while peering through extra-thick glasses is so unfunny that you want to yank him out from performing the service and replace him with the guy from ?License to Wed.?


Deeply offensive, painfully unfunny, patently insincere, indifferently and amazingly overlong at nearly two hours, ?I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry? could well turn out to be the single worst film of 2007 or, at the very least, the worst film of 2007 not named ?Norbit.? It is a career low point for virtually everyone involved (yes, even Nick Swardson) and the fact that such a film could be financed and released by a major studio in this day and age is almost unspeakably depressing. If all of this has failed to convince you that attending this film might not be the wisest deployment of your entertainment budget this weekend, let me offer up one last thought to try to steer you away from it: if I ever found myself in a position where I had to either sit through this film again or rewatch ?Boat Trip,? the infamous Cuba Gooding Jr. film that everyone just assumed would be the absolute worst gay panic film ever made, I would actually have to think it over for a while before deciding.

The Doom Generation (1995)

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 20, 2010

and written by Gregg Araki. (Not rated. 85 minutes. At the Gateway,
Aquarius in Palo Alto, Towne in San Jose and through Thursday at the UC
Theater in Berkeley.)



Can’t beat this one for openers: In “The Doom Generation,” a Gen-X flick
that opens today at the Gateway and other Bay Area theaters, three alienated
youths stop for junk food at a quickie mart, and blow the head off the
Korean proprietor.

As his wife (Margaret Cho) watches in horror, and his kids stay glued to
their TV, the man’s head sails through the air and lands with a plop! in a
relish dish, spurting blood and continuing to talk. And all of that because
the punks couldn’t pay their $6.66 tab.

“The Doom Generation” is the newest alienated-youth movie from Gregg
Araki, a Los Angeles film maker who helped define the “New Queer Cinema”
with his 1992 film “The Living End” — a low-
budget gay variation on “Thelma & Louise” — and in 1994 delivered
“Totally F***ed Up,” a movie about fringe-dwelling gays and lesbians.

“The Doom Generation,” which was made with a larger budget than his
previous features, is ironically billed as a “heterosexual movie” — not
because the three leads aren’t truly hetero, but because the movie ends with
a dead-
serious scene about gay bashers who don’t particularly care who their
victims are.

The leads are 18-year-old Amy (Rose McGowan), a foul-mouthed crystal
meth addict in a Louise Brooks wig; her dim-witted, ineffectual boyfriend, Jordan (James Duval), and Xavier, or “X” (Johnathon Schaech), the perilously handsome, possibly bisexual drifter who takes up with the couple and leads them on a murderous spree through convenience stores and fast-food joints.

Being the apex of this incendiary triangle, Amy is the movie’s primary
focus and a handy mouthpiece for Araki’s nonstop scatological put-downs.
Fond of calling people “Ex Lax” or “Smegma Breath,” or telling them
they’re “full of sheep excrement,” Amy’s a screaming, speed-addled
banshee, and not the sort of chick you’d want to run into late at night (or
spend 85 minutes with in a darkened theater).

Araki plays with sexual ambiguity, suggests a possible attraction
between Jordan and “X,” and then subverts it by having Jordan belch, walk
away from his near-
nude seducer and have sex with Amy in a bathtub. I don’t know what point
Araki’s trying to make here — aside from the ultimate meaninglessness and
mutability of sexual preference.

One part lovers-on-the-run comedy and one part splatter-flick spoof,
“The Doom Generation” also features cameos by Hollywood madam Heidi
Fleiss, former “Love Boat” star Lauren Tewes and Parker Posey as a lesbian
in a Dolly Parton wig who’s got a hankerin’ for vicious Amy.

It makes you wonder when Araki is going to find something else to think
about.

For the gay male audience, the biggest draw is Schaech, whose looks are
also on display in “How to Make an American Quilt.”

Dancing in September (2001)

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 19, 2010

DANCING IN SEPTEMBER

Synopsis:

Writing for a “hit” TV sitcom is very easy when all you are doing is dumbing down the story and plotlines and going for the cheap, the stereotypical and the banal. Tomasina (Nicole Ari Parker) has done the best she can for her current assignment and when she attempts to actually make “good” television, she’s fired and left to fend for herself in the very competitive world of Television Production. An up and coming Major TV Network is looking to cash in on the burgeoning “Urban Market” by way of hiring its very first Black TV Executive. Enter George Washington. It’s the break he’s been working for and it appears he’s finally getting his shot at the big time. “Tommy” pitches her ideas to George and catches a break with a script she’s written entitled “Just Us”. Conceding to a minor change in her character design, the contract is signed and the pilot is ordered with 13 more episodes on tap. All thanks to none other than TV Exec, George Washington (Isaiah Washington). The two hit it off and what started off purely professional, quickly becomes personal and the two live and love better than ever before. In preparation for the pilot and indeed the rest of the series, the crew is assembled and, Tommy begins casting the main characters. The last role to be filled is that of the show’s young “street-wise” character. After going through every young Black actor on two coasts, Tommy stumbles on a diamond in the rough in the person of James (Vicellous Reon Shannon). Not only does he have the look but he memorizes the script after only one reading and appears to be a natural! Everything is going perfectly. Her show is a huge hit and her love life has never been better. However, While she may be in love with both her success and her man, the Industry is solely in love with ratings. No matter what, if the ratings dip, the show no matter how previously successful, is on its way out the door. The ratings indeed slip and both Tommy and George have very hard decisions to make regarding their continued professional and personal involvement. Dancing in September is one of those “On the inside looking out” kind of features and it is masterfully presented. So much so that I was literally on the edge of my seat as each twist and turn unfolded. In a word, this film is …superb.

Audio/Video:

The audio for the feature is presented in a DD2.0 platform that while unremarkable in its presentation does a good job in filling the listening space. The video presentation is a very clean anamorphically enhanced widescreen transfer that bore no imperfections that I could detect. Another great effort by HBODVD!

Download The Prodigy Full Movie blu ray

Extras:

There are none.

Overall:

Dancing In September has both a great cast and a great story. It’s very engaging and keeps your attention all the way through to the end. If you are in the mood for a drama with “teeth” that speaks to your intellect, Dancing in September is right up your alley!

Highly Recommended

The Bridge: Documentary about…

Author: phillipsbrookskellersblog
June 17, 2010

POLITE APPLAUSE

The Bridge: Documentary about people who have committed suicide on the
Golden Gate Bridge. Directed by Eric Steel. (Not rated. 90 minutes. At Bay Area theaters. For complete movie listings and show times, and to buy tickets for select theaters, go
to sfgate.com/movies.)



Physical beauty, without a spiritual component, has a kind of cruelty to it. It
represents a promise that can’t be delivered, a challenge that can’t be met,
and a standard by which to measure one’s own ugliness, failure or
disappointment. The Golden Gate Bridge, a rare man-made structure that actually
makes the natural surroundings yet more beautiful, is an imposing sight and a
powerful symbol. It’s San Francisco. It’s California, and the West. And for Bay
Area residents who become disenchanted with their lives, it’s a place to commit
suicide.

[Podcast: Mick LaSalle talks about "The Bridge."]

“The Bridge” is a documentary film that shows people climbing over the
4-foot railing and jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Filmed using hidden
cameras over the course of 2004, it’s a difficult movie to watch and a
difficult movie to feel good about. It’s disturbing, needless to say, but also
affecting in unexpected ways. At any given time, the film shows scores of
people crossing the bridge, and usually it’s impossible to tell the happy from
the despondent. Everyone looks like a contented tourist, and then suddenly
someone breaks from the pack — climbs, jumps and disappears. The sight
inspires awe at the variety of human experience and wonder at the secret
torments of people we pass on the street every day.

So what do we make of such a documentary? One could argue that “The
Bridge” is a concerned film about mental illness, whose goal is to prevent
others from becoming suicides. Though it returns repeatedly to the bridge, most
of it consists of interviews with friends and loved ones, talking about the
people who died and the warning signs leading up to the desperate act. Yet just
as easily one could see “The Bridge” as ghoulish and cruel, with unhappy
seekers of oblivion unwittingly enlisted into a commercial feature. It’s the
final insult and the final intrusion, not to mention the ultimate confirmation
of the world as a rotten place, that people should build reputations on the
agony of others.

For myself, I could make the argument either way, but both arguments are
fruitless in that they end up concentrating too much on the unknowable and
irrelevant — that is, the initial motive of the director, Eric Steel. The
real item under consideration here is the movie itself, and the bottom line is
that it lands in a humane place. True, any viewer will go in with a certain
curiosity, ghoulish or otherwise, about what it’s like to jump off a bridge,
and yet the overall effect of the film is broadening. To see it is to dread the
bridge jumps and to come away with a feeling of compassion and empathy.

Three types of individuals are shown to commit suicide in this way: (1)
the severely mentally ill, paranoid schizophrenics who have known years of
torment and want to end the pain, (2) chronically depressed people who, after
years of threatening suicide, finally reach a crisis and (3) previously
mentally healthy people who suffer an acute misfortune — the death of a
loved one, a lost job, a financial crisis, or a broken love relationship —
that knocks them sideways. Interviews conducted with the survivors talk about
these lives, the different paths leading to the same sad ending.

Things happen to people. Many who jump probably never anticipated that
they ever would, and so the movie touches on the random miseries of life and
makes comprehensible what, from a distance, would look like an insane act. At
the same time, “The Bridge” emphasizes the tragic waste of these lives. Suicide
notes are juxtaposed against the testimonies of loved ones. Over and over,
friends and family describe buoyant, likable, vibrant individuals, while the
notes say, “I am ugly, fat and tired” or “I hate me. I’m a loser.” The notes’
descriptions aren’t believable, but the friends’ are, and that’s the sad thing.
It’s always the wrong people who are hard on themselves.

Steel films the Golden Gate Bridge in sunshine and shadow, lending it all
the melodrama of a femme fatale in a Decadent Romantic painting. It seems
overdone, but then I didn’t spend a year staring at it, watching people kill
themselves. In any case, Steel gives the rest of the country one heck of a
travelogue — if you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to order some flowers
for your funeral. He also gives us one scene for our nightmares: A tall man
with long hair stands up on the railing, facing the bridge traffic, and then
falls straight back into the water, like a body falling out of a closet. Try
keeping that image from returning as you’re trying to sleep at night.

Yet the most important moment of the film is the useful and dramatic
testimony of 25-year-old Kevin Hines, a rare survivor of a bridge jump. He
describes what it’s like to jump from the railing — and, in that instant,
regret it.

– Advisory: Even if you think you’re tough, think twice. This is not only
hard to watch but hard to forget.



To hear Mick LaSalle talk about movies, listen to his weekly podcast at
sfgate.com/blogs/podcasts.

E-mail Mick LaSalle at mlasalle@sfchronicle.com.