Awwww, damn. Now this is just sad all around.
Entries categorized as ‘Film’
For Your Consideration…
October 30, 2006 · 1 Comment
Zounds! Lackaday! How ever did La Gringa not know about this? A new comedy by Christopher Guest!!!
Just in time for the Academy Awards, we present For Your Consideration, Guest’s take on the Hollywood scene. This time his ridiculous mockumentary revolves around the making of the imaginary film "Home for Purim."
Click here to see the trailer. As usual with any Christopher Guest film, this one looks bloody hilarious.
La Gringa totally wants to see this. Anyone wanna join me?
Categories: Film
For Your Consideration…
October 30, 2006 · 1 Comment
Zounds! Lackaday! How ever did La Gringa not know about this? A new comedy by Christopher Guest!!!
Just in time for the Academy Awards, we present For Your Consideration, Guest’s take on the Hollywood scene. This time his ridiculous mockumentary revolves around the making of the imaginary film "Home for Purim."
Click here to see the trailer. As usual with any Christopher Guest film, this one looks bloody hilarious.
La Gringa totally wants to see this. Anyone wanna join me?
Categories: Film
John Cameron Mitchell’s Shortbus: New York is where everyone comes to be forgiven.
September 8, 2006 · 2 Comments
A few years ago, just after September 11, you may remember hearing rumors about a fascinating new film project that Hedwig and the Angry Inch director John Cameron Mitchell was becoming involved with, one that was blatantly pushing the boundaries of sexual expression in mainstream film. La Gringa first read about this on Nerve.com. Later, we learned even more about it from our catsitter.
Yes, La Gringa’s catsitter.
Catsitter Dyke Rocker Chick, a musician, is a colleague of Mitchell’s and was part of the original stage cast of Hedwig. (She was the lead guitarist for Hedwig’s band, of course! She’s also a very good catsitter.) Anyway, she told us that John was auditioning people for this new film by having them send in tapes of themselves discussing a particularly emotional sexual memory. (Apparently, more than a few people sent in tapes of themselves doing considerably MORE than that. Luckily, our hero has a sense of humor.)
The working title for the project was simply The Sex Film Project. (Don’t Google that, dearie; it just sends you to a porn site now.) He wanted people who were completely comfortable with their sexuality. His idea was that actual sex was rarely seen on film outside porn or the occasional European art film. He believed that good sex on film could be just as dramatic and engaging as good dialogue, if approached the right way. (Here’s a good Hollywood Reporter interview with Mitchell where he goes into more detail.)
Oh, and did we mention? It’s a comedy.
The completed (and unrated) film – now called Shortbus, after the name of a sex club featured in the film – made it’s controversial debut at Cannes this summer (out of competition) and the reviews have been – for the most part – remarkably positive, considering the explicit subject matter. What most of the reviews seem to agree upon is the upbeat energy that Shortbus seems to generate.
Roger Ebert wrote:
Another sensation here is “Shortbus,” the long-awaited, much-rumored explicit erotic film from John Cameron Mitchell (“Hedwig and the Angry Inch”). It’s an official selection, playing out of competition. Yes, there’s hard-core sex in this film (gay, straight, solo, amateur, professional and all of the above). But you couldn’t call it a hard-core film. It just doesn’t feel like one, and despite all the genitals on the screen it doesn’t try to be one; it’s not about sex but about sexuality, not about scoring but about living, and at its center is a remarkable performance by Sook-Yin Lee as Sofia, a sex therapist (“I prefer the term Couples Counselor”) whose search for her own first orgasm leads her into the gay, bi, trans and S&M underworld of New York. It is a world that seems so gentle and friendly in this film that I overheard a strange comment afterwards, “This is the first time New York has seemed Canadian.
And Time’s Richard Corliss had this to say:
I’m not saying "Shortbus" is a world-beater; it’s mostly clever, sometimes meandering. And I have to say I didn’t get excited by all the gay exertions (or the straight ones). But I hail Mitchell for achieving something that was on many a serious director’s mind 30 years ago: the coherent integration of explicit sex scenes into a naturalistic story film. Mitchell said that in press interviews here, he was asked over and over, "Why sex?" I wonder: What took so long? Most people laugh and cry; most people have sex, occasionally at the same time. Sex isn’t divorced from our own emotional biographies; it’s an inextricable part of it. So I applaud Mitchell. And I say to other intrepid filmmakers: Just do it.
And here’s a sampling of some other reviews:
Shortbus is set to debut in North America on September 10th at the Toronto Film Festival. It hits New York City on October 4th. This is one film that La Gringa is definitely looking forward to seeing!
Click here to see the (work safe) trailer. Go here and register to see an explicit and uncensored version of the same trailer.
Oh, and we almost forgot! More good news? The film’s original music was scored by Yo La Tengo!
Snakes on a Muthafuckin’ Plane!
August 23, 2006 · 2 Comments
On Saturday night, La Gringa, SoundGrrl, Kgaard and Mrs. Kgaard went to see Snakes on a Plane and we all give it a big thumbs up! (Book Stud did not join us. She – like Indiana Jones – is not overly fond of snakes.)
We will now list all the reasons you should go see Snakes on a Plane:
- Gratuitous and wonderful booby shots
- Gratuitous shot of snake latched onto a pee-pee
- Moral teaching point #1: Disabling the lavatory smoke detector will result in death
- Moral teaching point #2: Joining the mile-high club in the lavatory will result in death
- Moral teaching point #3: Being mean to small furry animals will result in death
- Best use of a spork for cheap laughs in an action adventure film
- Everything that comes out of Samuel L. Jackson’s mouth
- And last, but not least, this awesome music video of the best movie theme song ever!
Superman Returns:The Ultimate Chick Flick
June 30, 2006 · 3 Comments
He’s dreamy. He’s brooding. He’s sensitive. He’s emotionally available. (Mostly.) He’s vulnerable. (Sort of, if you have a glowing green rock handy.) He has piercing blue eyes. He lets you make the first move after a date. He manages to make wearing blue and red tights seem not as ridiculously silly as we all know it to be. He performs spot-welds on collapsing skyscrapers as he hurtles past them at the speed of light. He stops to help women pick up items that spill from their handbags. He knows how to use hair product. He’s hung like a donkey. (Okay, we’re just guessing at this part, but the tights are certainly… well-filled.)
But ladies, let us be perfectly clear: Superman is also a super-stalker. Oh, sure, we know he loves Lois Lane. But does he have to hover outside her bedroom window, using his x-ray vision and super-hearing to spy on her with Cyclops – er – um, I mean James Marsden? (Now we know why he got killed off so fast in X-Men III, by the way. He foresaw the train wreck to come, methinks, and jumped ship when Singer did.) Hiding in the shadows of the Daily Planet’s smoking balcony, fifty storeys up, and tormenting Lois by blowing out her lighter every time she tries to light a cigarette? Creeping into her child’s bedroom to watch him while he sleeps? Let’s face it: the guy has super-issues.
Superman Returns is the ultimate chick flick. A love triangle involving pretty people that also features explosions, airplane crashes, earthquakes, collapsing buildings, sinking ships, killer storms, cannibalistic Pomeranians, the world’s coolest toy train set, the world’s coolest tattoo, and the best hero-as-crucified-Christ shot ever captured on film. (Toner Low, I am opening this up here for your theory of the Superman mythos as a microscosm of the Jewish experience. We’ll be expecting your essay on this immediately.)
Oh, and if you see it at the Loew’s on 34th Street, you will also get to see a mini-documentary about baby meerkats before the previews. We’re not exactly sure WHY they showed us this, but the baby meerkats were awfully cute, if flea-ridden.
Seriously though – Superman Returns is a wonderful comic-book movie. Bryan Singer’s directing style lends a humanity to his larger-than-life subjects that most other directors couldn’t even try to pull off. (Witness the mess that was X-Men III. Bryan, we will never forgive you for for letting Ratner near that film!) Brandon Routh as our hero is particularly good; he has very expressive eyes and manages to instill a gravitas and depth to the character that keeps the audience connected to him on an emotional level, and keeps the story from feeling like a cartoon. You may be surprised at just how much you connect with the Superman character when you see the movie. Routh also bears an eerie resemblance to Christopher Reeve, both in his physical appearance and his vocal mannerisms. Toward the beginning of the film, there is a clever nod to Reeve and his role in the first Superman film.
Indeed, there are clever genre nods throughout the film, from Lex Luthor using an Arthur C. Clarke quote to a live-action reproduction of the first June 1938 Action Comics #1 cover. And the entire movie seems to be an homage to artist Alex Ross. Every image seems like a Ross painting come to life. It’s gorgeous stuff, folks.
The only disappointment I had was Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. I prefer Michael Rosenbaum’s nuanced and layered portrayal of Lex Luthor on TV’s Smallville. As Toner Low and I were discussing a couple weeks back, the villains in Superman – particularly Lex Luthor – never really seem to make any sense. You never get a sense of why Luthor does the things he does. The one thing that Smallville manages to do exceedingly well is to give the characters in the Superman mythos a backstory, and a motivation. Spacey, in contrast, seemed little more than a cartoon in the role.
Anyway, enough said. It’s really a great movie. Go spend your rainy New York Fourth of July at the movies, kids!
Categories: Film
Superman Returns:The Ultimate Chick Flick
June 30, 2006 · Leave a Comment
He’s dreamy. He’s brooding. He’s sensitive. He’s emotionally available. (Mostly.) He’s vulnerable. (Sort of, if you have a glowing green rock handy.) He has piercing blue eyes. He lets you make the first move after a date. He manages to make wearing blue and red tights seem not as ridiculously silly as we all know it to be. He performs spot-welds on collapsing skyscrapers as he hurtles past them at the speed of light. He stops to help women pick up items that spill from their handbags. He knows how to use hair product. He’s hung like a donkey. (Okay, we’re just guessing at this part, but the tights are certainly… well-filled.)
But ladies, let us be perfectly clear: Superman is also a super-stalker. Oh, sure, we know he loves Lois Lane. But does he have to hover outside her bedroom window, using his x-ray vision and super-hearing to spy on her with Cyclops – er – um, I mean James Marsden? (Now we know why he got killed off so fast in X-Men III, by the way. He foresaw the train wreck to come, methinks, and jumped ship when Singer did.) Hiding in the shadows of the Daily Planet’s smoking balcony, fifty storeys up, and tormenting Lois by blowing out her lighter every time she tries to light a cigarette? Creeping into her child’s bedroom to watch him while he sleeps? Let’s face it: the guy has super-issues.
Superman Returns is the ultimate chick flick. A love triangle involving pretty people that also features explosions, airplane crashes, earthquakes, collapsing buildings, sinking ships, killer storms, cannibalistic Pomeranians, the world’s coolest toy train set, the world’s coolest tattoo, and the best hero-as-crucified-Christ shot ever captured on film. (Toner Low, I am opening this up here for your theory of the Superman mythos as a microscosm of the Jewish experience. We’ll be expecting your essay on this immediately.)
Oh, and if you see it at the Loew’s on 34th Street, you will also get to see a mini-documentary about baby meerkats before the previews. We’re not exactly sure WHY they showed us this, but the baby meerkats were awfully cute, if flea-ridden.
Seriously though – Superman Returns is a wonderful comic-book movie. Bryan Singer’s directing style lends a humanity to his larger-than-life subjects that most other directors couldn’t even try to pull off. (Witness the mess that was X-Men III. Bryan, we will never forgive you for for letting Ratner near that film!) Brandon Routh as our hero is particularly good; he has very expressive eyes and manages to instill a gravitas and depth to the character that keeps the audience connected to him on an emotional level, and keeps the story from feeling like a cartoon. You may be surprised at just how much you connect with the Superman character when you see the movie. Routh also bears an eerie resemblance to Christopher Reeve, both in his physical appearance and his vocal mannerisms. Toward the beginning of the film, there is a clever nod to Reeve and his role in the first Superman film.
Indeed, there are clever genre nods throughout the film, from Lex Luthor using an Arthur C. Clarke quote to a live-action reproduction of the first June 1938 Action Comics #1 cover. And the entire movie seems to be an homage to artist Alex Ross. Every image seems like a Ross painting come to life. It’s gorgeous stuff, folks.
The only disappointment I had was Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. I prefer Michael Rosenbaum’s nuanced and layered portrayal of Lex Luthor on TV’s Smallville. As Toner Low and I were discussing a couple weeks back, the villains in Superman – particularly Lex Luthor – never really seem to make any sense. You never get a sense of why Luthor does the things he does. The one thing that Smallville manages to do exceedingly well is to give the characters in the Superman mythos a backstory, and a motivation. Spacey, in contrast, seemed little more than a cartoon in the role.
Anyway, enough said. It’s really a great movie. Go spend your rainy New York Fourth of July at the movies, kids!
Categories: Film
Superman Returns:The Ultimate Chick Flick
June 30, 2006 · Leave a Comment
He’s dreamy. He’s brooding. He’s sensitive. He’s emotionally available. (Mostly.) He’s vulnerable. (Sort of, if you have a glowing green rock handy.) He has piercing blue eyes. He lets you make the first move after a date. He manages to make wearing blue and red tights seem not as ridiculously silly as we all know it to be. He performs spot-welds on collapsing skyscrapers as he hurtles past them at the speed of light. He stops to help women pick up items that spill from their handbags. He knows how to use hair product. He’s hung like a donkey. (Okay, we’re just guessing at this part, but the tights are certainly… well-filled.)
But ladies, let us be perfectly clear: Superman is also a super-stalker. Oh, sure, we know he loves Lois Lane. But does he have to hover outside her bedroom window, using his x-ray vision and super-hearing to spy on her with Cyclops – er – um, I mean James Marsden? (Now we know why he got killed off so fast in X-Men III, by the way. He foresaw the train wreck to come, methinks, and jumped ship when Singer did.) Hiding in the shadows of the Daily Planet’s smoking balcony, fifty storeys up, and tormenting Lois by blowing out her lighter every time she tries to light a cigarette? Creeping into her child’s bedroom to watch him while he sleeps? Let’s face it: the guy has super-issues.
Superman Returns is the ultimate chick flick. A love triangle involving pretty people that also features explosions, airplane crashes, earthquakes, collapsing buildings, sinking ships, killer storms, cannibalistic Pomeranians, the world’s coolest toy train set, the world’s coolest tattoo, and the best hero-as-crucified-Christ shot ever captured on film. (Toner Low, I am opening this up here for your theory of the Superman mythos as a microscosm of the Jewish experience. We’ll be expecting your essay on this immediately.)
Oh, and if you see it at the Loew’s on 34th Street, you will also get to see a mini-documentary about baby meerkats before the previews. We’re not exactly sure WHY they showed us this, but the baby meerkats were awfully cute, if flea-ridden.
Seriously though – Superman Returns is a wonderful comic-book movie. Bryan Singer’s directing style lends a humanity to his larger-than-life subjects that most other directors couldn’t even try to pull off. (Witness the mess that was X-Men III. Bryan, we will never forgive you for for letting Ratner near that film!) Brandon Routh as our hero is particularly good; he has very expressive eyes and manages to instill a gravitas and depth to the character that keeps the audience connected to him on an emotional level, and keeps the story from feeling like a cartoon. You may be surprised at just how much you connect with the Superman character when you see the movie. Routh also bears an eerie resemblance to Christopher Reeve, both in his physical appearance and his vocal mannerisms. Toward the beginning of the film, there is a clever nod to Reeve and his role in the first Superman film.
Indeed, there are clever genre nods throughout the film, from Lex Luthor using an Arthur C. Clarke quote to a live-action reproduction of the first June 1938 Action Comics #1 cover. And the entire movie seems to be an homage to artist Alex Ross. Every image seems like a Ross painting come to life. It’s gorgeous stuff, folks.
The only disappointment I had was Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. I prefer Michael Rosenbaum’s nuanced and layered portrayal of Lex Luthor on TV’s Smallville. As Toner Low and I were discussing a couple weeks back, the villains in Superman – particularly Lex Luthor – never really seem to make any sense. You never get a sense of why Luthor does the things he does. The one thing that Smallville manages to do exceedingly well is to give the characters in the Superman mythos a backstory, and a motivation. Spacey, in contrast, seemed little more than a cartoon in the role.
Anyway, enough said. It’s really a great movie. Go spend your rainy New York Fourth of July at the movies, kids!
Categories: Film
Attention Joss Whedon! Brett Ratner stole your Buffy Season Six Finale!
June 6, 2006 · 3 Comments
X-Men III: The Last Stand:
- Not enough shirtless Hugh Jackman.
- Not enough shirtless Famke Janssen.
- Nobody – not even our flame-tastic hero Sir Ian McKelllan – would walk away from Rebecca Romijn stark naked on the floor.
- Famke Janssen apparently got into Stevie Nicks’ wardrobe before shooting on this film started.
- Juggernaut rocks!
- Whole ending ripped off from Buffy Season Six Finale, the Evil Willow / Xander thing. For a minute there I thought Wolverine was gonna start talking about yellow crayons.
- Jean Grey can disintegrate Wolverine’s leather jacket, all the flesh on his chest, face and arms, but his pants stay intact? Yeah, right.
- Many things blew up in a satisfactory manner.
That is all.
Categories: Film
Those Seventies Chills
May 31, 2006 · 2 Comments
Watching the preview for the upcoming remake of The Omen brought my mind around to the original, and the other horror films of that era. The Omen came out in 1976, three years after The Exorcist, two after The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the same year as Carrie, and a year before The Hills Have Eyes and Suspiria. Audiences in 1978 winced through Damien: The Omen II and Dawn of the Dead, and the decade wrapped up (and went into extra innings) with Alien, The Shining, and Friday the 13th. 1973 was also the year that The Wicker Man, a personal fave, came out, and the year that ABC showed a movie of the week called Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark, a movie whose title I took to heart. I’m convinced this exceptionally scary tv movie, which terrified a generation of kids who weren’t expecting anything like it, caused my extended bedwetting stint which finally ended last year.
Is it me, or did the majority of the most memorable horror movies ever (monster films of the 30s excepted) come out in the 70s? Do I have a skewed perspective, because I was a kid in the 70s and thus very impressionable? Or was 1973-1980 an era in which filmmakers found out how to tap the collective fear nerve like never before or since?
Categories: Film
We gotcher Jew right here
May 24, 2006 · 7 Comments
So Kgaard and I are, as we often are, embroiled in a cinematic fight-to-the-death. He’s in the middle of reading IVANHOE, which Mama Book Stud read to Baby Book Stud when she was but a wee sprite, and and we are trying to decide who we’d cast in the role of the lovely Rebecca, were we to be casting a new version of it. [Note: Elizabeth Taylor was the lucky lady in the 1952 version.]
She should have dark curly hair, not be too terribly WASP-y looking, and have a soulful, passionate demeanor. (She gets accused of killing Christ of her own accord a good handful of times throughout the book – she’s a-gonna need some soul.) I vote for Julianna Margulies; he votes for Rachel Weisz. (Of course, he would probably vote for Rachel Weisz to play Quasimodo or the Governator or Aunt Jemima, if it meant he got to slaver over her on screen.)
So we put it out to you, dearly beloved: who would you like to see play Rebecca?
Categories: Books · Film · General Silliness
