London of the late 19th century is a haven for political exiles of all sorts - refugees, partisans, anarchists. Verloc has made his living spying for the Russian goverment, an agent ... See full summary »
In 1984, British journalist Arthur Stuart investigates the career of 1970s glam superstar Brian Slade, who was heavily influenced in his early years by hard-living and rebellious American singer Curt Wild.
Jonathan Rhys Meyers,
The sudden reappearance of his best friend Toni, after ten years absence, causes Chris to remember his past, to question some of his lifestyle decisions and to re-evaluate his life and marriage to Marion.
New York City police detective John Shaft (nephew of the original 1970s detective) goes on a personal mission to make sure the son of a real estate tycoon is brought to justice after a racially-motivated murder.
Samuel L. Jackson,
London of the late 19th century is a haven for political exiles of all sorts - refugees, partisans, anarchists. Verloc has made his living spying for the Russian goverment, an agent provacateur of sorts, while simultaneously providing information to the London police, specifically Chief Inspector Heat. When the new Russian ambassador demands he prove his worth or lose his salary, Verloc sets off a tragic chain of events that involves his pretty young wife Winnie, her retarded brother Stevie, and a figure called the Professor, whose fascination with explosives and destruction makes him the person to call on when Verloc needs a bomb. Written by
Gary Dickerson <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Pull yourself together. Remorse is for the weak and weakness is the source of all evil on this Earth. There's a time coming - and it's gonna be sooner rather than later - when this will be understood by governments and individuals: that there can be no progress and no solutions until you make a rational decision to exterminate the weak.
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I would have chosen "Never more timely" for a title had the woman in NYC not taken it first. Robin Williams' fanatic could be any number of "players in this morning's "eve of war" headlines: The "End Times" druids who currently have the ear of America's Chosen-By-God president comes to mind. Or Osama bin Laden's Shi'ite zealots.
Conrad's literary genius is his ability to portray horror with the narrator's understatement and ambivalence. Bob Hoskins' film accomplishes this horrific understatement. Phillip Glass' (ordinarily no personal musical favorite) score gives the entire creepiness a magnificent auditory bas-relief. I wish I had voted it a "10" instead of merely "9." Superb.
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