Reviews written by registered user
|8 reviews in total|
This movie was just terrible and after 45 minutes I went out and had a workout in the gym, fortunately next door. That makes it the 3rd film I've walked out on during over 40 years of going to the cinema. It was neither remotely amusing nor remotely scary - was it supposed to be either? Was it lack of budget or lack of imagination that made the aliens look like black old English sheepdogs with luminous teeth? I suppose in the little time (half of it?) I watched it was almost always in darkness, which was probably some sort of way of disguising the general feebleness of these aliens. What was their problem? Would no-one take them for a walk? Perhaps it was all revealed at the end. And,sorry, probably an ageist or anti-London thing, but I couldn't stand listening to those dreadful accents a minute longer.
This series was absolutely great fun, intelligent, and much enjoyed by
me when I was living in the Bristol/Bath area.
I remember a critic saying that it made "Somerset look like California", but despite its so-called Bristol setting it was ravaged by London accents. It was disappointing that they could not find local actors or actors who could produce a feasible Bristol accent (just add an "l" to any word end in a vowel?) Still, great fun.
Sorry, I also wish that Eddie hadn't been eating and simultaneously drinking quite so heavily in the opening sequences, but then I'm very picky.
I have watched many, many Frasier episodes and most of them many times
too, but this one is definitely the worst and only one I dislike,
although as usual there were several good one-liners.
The plot was contrived and farcical, but what really ruined it completely was the accent of "Clive", Daphne's former boyfriend. What on earth was it, an Australian trying to sound English, like one of Daphne's brothers? Actually, it was difficult to believe it came from an earthling! Even worse than Dick Van Dyke's reviled "cockney" accent, the supreme accolade!
What is it with Daphne's family on the show? Her mother has a London accent, her father northern somewhere and goes to pubs that disappeared 50 years ago, one brother is Australian, one posh, and the other just speaks gibberish.
I was disppointed with this rather sickly sweet film after reading the rather more interesting book by Laura Hillenbrand. However, I did enjoy the racing action and the sight of the irritating, syrupy-voiced Tobey Maguire being consistently punched in the head. The book would have basically been fine as it stood, rather than being "sexed up" ("sicklified?") Still, William H Macy made me laugh (a little), rather than his usual role of making me depressed, and the horse - or was it horses? - playing Seabiscuit were pretty impressive too. I'm going back to re-read the book....
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
I must admit that I scanned through all the comments on this film hoping that someone somewhere might agree with my assessment of the plot as being absurdly overcomplicated. Surely it was relatively straightforward to get an extra key cut even in the 1950s, which would have stopped all the ridiculous key swapping activities. At times, it seemed more like a magician's (con man's?) act - now you see it, now you don't - rather than a mystery/thriller. I thought it was quaint that the local police were called instead of the emergency services when there is a dead body in the apartment. Perhaps we had the ethos of your local, friendly neighbourhood cop on the beat in those days who would clear it all up quite amicably and we could all get on with our lives, and perhaps be more careful in future. Not only are keys swapped with gay abandon but also raincoats (unnoticed, of course). Not at all sure why the crime-writer boyfriend of the wife agreed to go to a stag night with the husband, just after he had admitted that he would find it very difficult talking to the bloke, who he hardly knew anyway. The whole thing just fails to be anywhere near believable. Why on earth are all the comments favourable?
Oh, this was just so dreadful, I would have walked out on it in a theatre, but as I was watching the video at home decided to spare myself the principle of stalking out into a cold and wet February evening. My loathing just overflowed when Donald Sutherland, when asked about his lack of nickname - unlike his multi-cobwebbed team members - said - at this point I was on my knees begging that he wouldn't make the all-to-obvious "riposte", but no, he said it anyway - that the young lady could call him anytime.....I'm still squirming...
Must admit that on balance I prefer my own reading of the play rather than this version. Wilde's humour seemed less than sparkling. Julianne Moore was OK as the scheming, obnoxious, red-haired Mrs Cheeveley but the rest of the cast seemed to have their minds elsewhere. The incidental music was especially annoying as was the angle Rupert Everett kept carrying his hand, flaring his nostrils would have been enough.
I enjoyed the beginning and end of the movie but the middle was just mush. Proud of myself for recognising the writer/director/producer this time around - but I guess not many Indians (from India) go to ball games in Philadelphia. From my memories, the rain in Philadelphia was fairly authentic. Sorry, but I just couldn't stop giggling ever since I first saw Samuel L. Jackson's "hairstyle".