Of course, I want to see the SATC movie. I'm dying to. But I still read reviews to make sure I will not be disappointed by a giant piece of crap (Indiana Jones and the Skull thingie, I'm looking at you). Here's how the review in the Times starts:

A little Botox goes a long way in “Sex and the City,” but a little decent writing would have gone even further.

Ouch, Gray Lady, you are such a frenemy!

The rest of the review is pretty much along those lines. So I ask my dear readers to chime in: yay, or nay?

Labels: cinema

This is viral marketing well-done...



Check out the movie's web site and all the various theories on what this actually is.

Labels: cinema

I seem to have run out of contemporary movies on my Netflix queue, so I've been ripping viewing old classics. Among them, the Graduate. I simply cannot get tired of this movie. The cinematography is brilliant and inventive, even by today's standards, and Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft are absolutely outstanding. Incidentally, I owe my first name to Benjamin's character..

Labels: cinema

Finally got around to watch the Island with Scarlett Johansson and Ewan McGregor on the plane back from Paris. Lovely movie, with very interesting cinematography and the uber-coolest sets you've ever seen on film. Unfortunately, Johansson over-acts at times, as usual, and the product placements throughout the movie are nothing short of insulting (why can't advertisers realize that if we can tell a product is obviously being placed then the whole thing fails its purpose completely? be subtle, people!)

Thankfully, however, there is significant use of the amazing 118 Wallypower (top speed 70mph, price? a cool $24 mil), the Most Beautiful Yatch Ever, imho. Much classier than those huge white hunks you see rappers rent for a week in the summer. Sadly, I have yet to see one in real life. I suspect even in blasé St Tropez, it would turn many heads.

Labels: cinema

Sequels, especially of teenager-filled horror flicks, are usually a bad idea. While Final Destination was awesome, its sequel was just plain retarded. So it's with a somewhat lowered expectation that I Netflixed Final Destination 3 (I did also rent Citizen Kane that day, hopefully that's redeeming).

Well, lo and behold, FD3 is actually really quite good. Skillfull suspense buildups, brilliant special effects, and an absolutetely perfect guilty pleasure. Definitely rent it.

Labels: cinema

I don't know why I even Netflixed this movie. Did I think I was tough enough? Was I delirious? Had I had enough of cute gay comedies?

In any event, Hostel is, hands down, the scariest fucking shit I have ever seen. I am barely able to go through it by muting the sound and reading the closed captions through half-closed eyes. But now of course I'm hooked, I want to see how it ends.

After that I'll need a hug.

Labels: cinema

Back in boarding school, my first German teacher looked like he had just come from some East-German kolkhoz (yes, when I was in school, they still had two Germanys), and was the most drab person ever. Consequently, I hated German and made every effort to forget as much as possible as soon as the exams would be over.

But the weird thing is, I love German songs. They just sound so intriguing. Think of a huge biker singing M. Butterfly. It's compelling, no?



Anyway, the song today is Tanze Samba Mit Mir, by Tony Holiday. I understand it's a classic in the Land of the Ländern. It's also on the track of Water Drop on Burning Rocks, a fantastic French movie by director Francois Ozon. It's a deep, psychological drama, but, in the middle of the movie, everyone just starts dancing on Tanze Samba. Check out the choreography, it's priceless.

Get the French trailer here (.mov file).

Towards the middle of the trailer, you have the best line of the whole movie:

Let me introduce to you Vera, an old girlfriend. Well, an old boyfriend. She had her dick cut off in Casablanca.

Labels: cinema

Fifteen years later, Basic Instinct is back, still with la Stone. Other than the fact that she moved to London, Catherine Tramell is still a best-selling author who likes to seduce men and then eat them, or something along those lines.

Back in the day, I was a huge fan of the first movie and Sharon Stone herself. I even once biked from my house, down the Champs Elysees (not the safest place for a bike) to the Ritz to get an autograph, which I did get, after a 3-hour wait with the paparazzis.

But watching the trailer for the sequel, I couldn't help but notice the premise seems absolutely the same. Isn't the point of a sequel to prolong the story, as opposed to remaking it? Plus, no offense Shar, but things you could say sultrily and seductively with the body you had 15 years ago now just sound kinda dumb and desperate.

Of course, I will still go see the movie. If anything for all the glamour shots of the über sexy Swiss Re tower, also prominently displayed in Match Point.

Media

Labels: cinema

Brokeback cheerleader Andy Towle ponders why BBM did not get the Oscar. Apparently, so does every film critic this side of the Equator. Was it too gay? Not enough? Conspiracy theories abound, the biggest of which being that Hollywood doesn't like gay people. Hence of course giving the Best Actor prize to a homo playing a very gay homo. Some go as far as taking the loss as a personal affront on their lives.

Come on, the movie lost. It's OK. You will get through this. Tomorrow's another day, Dorothy!

Sheesh!

Labels: cinema

Big fan of Jodie Foster, I simply had to Netflix Flightplan, thinking all the naysayers were wrong.

Well, they were right, this movie sucks ass.

It's too bad really, because it started off really good. And then, midpoint through the movie, it starts sucking like crazy. It's almost as if they fired the good director halfway through and replaced him with a bad one. The script also goes from smart and interesting to utterly stupid and pointless.

Intriguing, really, how a movie that started off good could turn bad so quickly and thoroughly.

Labels: cinema

I am not usually a big Woody Allen fan, but I gotta see this:



And not just because of Mr. Rhys Meyers; the movie looks sexy, intriguing, reminiscent of a certain Mr. Ripley, perhaps? OK, it's mostly because of him. Case in point:

Labels: boys, cinema

This was an on-a-whim selection for my Netflix queue, and it's guaranteed to bring a smile to your face. It's fresh, optimistic, and just overall a happy movie. A must-see on a cold wintry day!

As said on TLA's website: Km. 0 is a truly European, sophisticated comedy where 12 people of different sexual persuasions agree to meet on a street corner, and all kinds of combinations result!

Labels: cinema

Jake Gyllenhaal's ass, the very cute and Southern-accented Lucas Black, and a deep, multi-faceted reflexion on the meaning of war, being a soldier, and sense of duty make Jarhead absolute must-see. So go. Right now.

Labels: boys, cinema