A Review: Anna Karenina

"But sin has a price. You may be sure of that." 
                                                                          --Alexi Karenin

At merely four minutes and ten seconds into the film, I smacked the right arm rest of my expensive black leather office chair and proclaimed aloud, "I'm sold! That's it: sold!"

I loved, loved, loved this wonderful ballet of a film. A lovely, graceful choreography so full of form, color and rich, dripping life.

A Review: The Bourne Legacy

"Who the hell is he?!"

Yes. Just who in the hell is Aaron Cross? Why is he a white man, with medium build, short brown hair and hard stare? Because this is America, we're assholes and these are our heroes? An international agency with global operatives and this is the best we can come up with to separate ourselves from Jason Bourne? And why is he towing around a white brunette who looks scared and needs saving again? (Sans Euro-accent, points for that) Why, did the man who crafted the scripts for first three films, feel the need to keep the two new leads so close to the formula of the original trilogy?

Why not Idris Elba and Penelope Cruiz? Or Adrien Brody and Kerry Washington? Joseph Gordan-Levitt and Kate Mara or a Christina Hendricks type? (Reaching, maybe, but it's not entirely stupid) Just, totally new and fresh faces, anyone else but these two--as great a pair of performers as they are with film legacies and history behind them set. And that's not the point of these opening paragraphs either. Their fine, but not for material that needs distance from it's predecessor literally in need of a face-lift.

Lord knows after Clayton, Gilory has his pick of actors. How do you think he got Edward Norton and Rachel Weisz in this picture?

A Review: Total Recall

"Look at you. . . You're still fighting and you don't even know who you are!"

In this future, at the ass-end of the 21st century, robotic police officers that resemble Slim-Fast versions of Storm Troopers mixed with legitimate human cops patrol the streets. Cars can sorta fly. Almost everything electronic is now glass touch screen. Young adults are still punks. Cell phones can be secretly implanted (and painfully extracted) in your hand.

And an elevator (with small scientific theory and history behind it) cuts through the earth, zips around the core to the other side. It heads to either (you guessed it) Great Britain, 1 of 2 remaining habitable parts of earth along with the other: Australia a.k.a The Colony.

The Colony resembles a slum of Asian-likeness. I found out later that was little bit on purpose and not me simply drawing semi-racist juxtapositions in my so-called-mind. Living space is shrinking in the two land masses. Things are getting tight, literally and figuratively for people. The colony is a crapland of slum and "United Federation of Britain" is a great place to live and work. But not for the blue collars and foreigners apparently. Okay.

A Review: First Knight

Movies like this are ungodly annoying because they throw the word of "Love" around like bread crumbs at the birds. All, willy, and yes, nilly, too. Which is offensive to the word and anyone who's had intimate relations with it. Movie or not, this material takes itself very seriously. So I will, in turn, do the same.

There is no foundation, weight, or  responsibility to the meanings, or the tutelage and right of passage to get the heart in meaning of the word. The movie only gives us a nebulous definition and I don't feel anyone feels it's true meaning. Only that it means a great deal. And having known this word myself, and been to the ends of the earth and beyond in it, I can say First Knight knows no true love. But only the idea of it.

A Review: Monsters

"I guess that's what they mean by 'Infected Zone'."

I've said before that it takes a lot to scare me, and more so than that, most horror movies will bring me a giggle quicker than a startle.

With that being said, I wouldn't presume to call Monsters a film that intends to scare, or provoke fear. I'll say the provocation of sense of wonder, awe, and misunderstanding in the film about said monsters is more prominent than anything else. Including the images Edwards gives us (doubling as cinematographer).

The Mexican landscapes almost like tapestries before our eyes.

A Review: The Fugitive Kind

         "There's another kind."
             "What kind?"
             "It's a kind that don't belong to no place at all."

Tennessee Williams is a guarantee for the much more dramatic, enlightening and heightening sort of fair. In The Fugitive Kind we're given a film that is not about happy, bright people. Optimism is not a daily practice for most of the characters we meet, but not all of them. And maybe they don't even want to be happy. Their stuck. They have deep-seated issues of shame, guilt, loneliness, infidelity, bleak self-direction and unfair lives considering what they've paid into life so far. Some, not so much of a pension considering their life credits.

A Review: Signs

"I think God did it. . ."

Every year for the past six, on the 23rd of August I watch this film. I chose this particular day because it is the day of birth for a very dear old friend of mine. She and I no longer speak, but that has only been a recent thing. Secretly, to honor her and our friendship, years ago I began watching this in a commemorative fashion of her, first time meeting each other, first hug, first laugh, everything since then, all the great years spent. Silly to you maybe, but call me a nostalgic old soul.

The years have gone by and still I dive into this film. Enjoying the saturation in the thrill, the wonder, the drama, and the dread each and every time.

A Review: Sabrina

"It's all in the family."

                                         --Linus Larrabee

With the stars out, she sits at her desk draped in a silk robe and writing a letter to her father about her two years spent in France. Her hair is short and cropped freshly. The night sky's wind carries La Vie En Rose from a French accordion player through her patio double-doors (or french doors) left wide open. Her back to the picturesque view. She has a smile on her face of quaint peace, and she feels at home with herself. She's excited about the world.

Meet Sabrina Fairchild.

A Review: Eden Lake

"How now brown cow?!"

I suppose the new trend of horror, or, the old trend, or, the smarter tend (does it matter?) is that the movie ends in ways you didn't expect. Or, it does so in ways that don't serve the purpose of triumph for certain characters. I won't say if this one does or does not, but I've been noticing as of late, the trend has set itself none the less.

A Review: Wrecked

"Fuck! I'm. . . FUCK!"

We almost think the name of the movie should be called "Goddamnit." It's accurate in regards for his bad luck and situation. Wouldn't be far off from what the title is ultimately suggesting.

The first thing we can see clearly is Adrien Brody's eyelid as it opens to reveal a weathered ball behind the skin. Then the camera shifts to a broken windshield and the dense green foliage beyond it. Eventually he comes fully to and gazes around. Beat to hammered shit would just about some up his appearance. Stuck in the front passenger seat of a car, he's wrecked it in the bottom of a ravine in the woods, some how. And yet he looks as if he doesn't have the slightest how he's there.

The man in the back seat is either unconscious, or, dead. Later, we find out he is not playing possum, and Brody is all alone. The driver is missing, we don't know about anyone else from the backseat. And that's just the beginning of his problems.