Reviews written by registered user
|32 reviews in total|
I'm not a fan of Julie Taymor (I hated Titus) so I was a bit leery about going to see this movie. Still, as a Beatles fan, I decided I should see it on the big screen. I went with my 19-year-old son, and we both enjoyed it very much. The film is a visual and auditory feast--sort of like a long music video--yet connected by a linear plot and sub-plots. For those of us who came of age during the 'Nam era, this brought back some vivid memories. But it's the music--a continuous parade of Beatles hits--that is the real treat. Somehow the plot, the (sometimes surrealistic) imagery and the music blend together for a sensual tour de force. Don't miss this movie while it's still playing in theaters; it just won't be the same on a small screen.
Saw it again after 20+ years, and I still don't get it. Some good scenes, mostly involving Robert Duvall, but if Martin Sheen were any more laid back he'd fall asleep. As for Brando, it's The Godfather meets Moby Dick--and overblown, incomprehensible performance, much like the movie itself. If you want to see a movie about 'Nam, Full Metal Jacket is a much better bet.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
I was convinced Atlas Shrugged could not be put on film, but this movie
proved me wrong. It has a contemporary look and feel, while retaining
the Art Deco elegance of Rand's novel. The acting is superb,
particularly Taylor Schilling as Dagny Taggart and Grant Bowler as Hank
Rearden. Bowler manages to cram more meaning into a half-cocked eyebrow
than most actors in a dozen lines of dialogue, and Shilling captures
the sleek, cold elegance of Dagny, while giving just a hint of the
passion simmering beneath the surface. Indeed, all the performances are
This is a beautiful movie to watch, with sets, locations and costumes that are both gorgeous and convincing. The run of the John Galt Line is thrilling, and when it crossed the bridge made of Rearden Metal, I wanted to stand up and cheer.
Director Paul Johansson (who also plays John Galt) obviously knew exactly what he wanted to put on the screen, and manged to do it. He is faithful to Rand's story, and in particular to the philosophical message that is at the heart of the work, while maintaining the excitement of the plot.
During her lifetime, Rand did not allow the novel to be made into a film, perhaps for fear that the movie would not be faithful to the book. It's too bad that she didn't live to see this movie because, I believe, she would be surprised and pleased by how well it captures the essence of her work. This is clearly a labor of love that will help make Rand's ideas accessible to many who have not yet read her work. And it's exciting and rewarding for those of us who have been Rand fans for many years. Can't wait for Parts 2 and 3.
It's hard to explain just how awful this movie is: Silly, slow-moving, boring plot; leaden dialogue; lack of personal chemistry among the characters; feeble and failed attempts at humor; and longer than eternity. The light repartee between Smith and Lawrence that made the original such fun has been replaced with something resembling the carping of an old married couple. Smith does his best with the material handed him and still has occasional flashes of charm, but Lawrence has sunk entirely into the persona of a spinster aunt. This is not just a movie where you have to suspend disbelief; you have to disconnect your mind entirely. The people behind me were engaged in a long conversation for entire the second half of the movie--something that always annoys me terribly, but in this case I didn't complain because I really couldn't blame them--and their conversation was more interesting than the movie anyway. All the mayhem and blood and crashing vehicles and spectacular special effects--which I generally enjoy--could not save this movie from sliding into a sinkhole of triviality and ennui.
This incredible movie tells the story of Germany's slide towards Nazi rule in the late 1920s or early 30s. The world of pre-WWII Berlin is seen through the distorted mirror of the Kit Kat Night Club. While technically a musical, the movie does not use the contrivance of having people stop in the middle of a scene and burst out in song and dance. Rather, the songs and danges are integrated into the plot either by being performed on the Cabaret stage or in some other natural manner--including the bone-chilling Tomorrow Belongs to Me. Unlike most movies of the time (including the vastly overrated Godfather), director Bob Fosse does not keep the action entirely linear; rather event A will happen in scene 1, you then have scene 2 dealing with an unrelated issue, then the consequence of event A will be played out in scene 3. This lets the viewer draw his own connections, rather than having everything spoon-fed by the moviemaker. While the Godfather un-deservedly got Best Picture for 1973, it got a total of only 3 Oscars, while Cabaret got 8 (including Best Director)--making it the movie to have gotten the most Oscars without also getting Best Picture. It surely should have--in 1973 or just about any other year.
For all the hype it gets from its small but devoted cadre of fans, the
original Dawn of the Dead is really, really cheesy. A mall with a gun shop
and tons of ammo in it? A few zombies that move slow as molasses in winter?
A helicopter that can take them outta there whenever it gets too dangerous?
Where's the terror in that? Most of the movie is spent playing around in
the shopping mall.
Not so with the current version. The zombies here are mean and *fast*--and there are zillions of them. The terror and despair are real--as is the drama. Everything is precisely calculated and has its reason. Characters change as they live under the strain of balancing compassion with survival. Unlike the cardboard cutouts in the earlier version, these are real people confronted with an unimaginable horror. Some respond better than others, but both the action and the character development make sense and ring true. Even the music is far superior to the original. This is a masterpiece that has borrowed little more than the title from the original--and a good thing too.
Johnny Depp struggles his way through the silly plot and slow script. Heather Graham looks lost. Way over-directed. Could profitably have been cut by three quarters of an hour. This film isn't worth the bother.
Frank Langella delivers a stunning performance. For those of us who
remember Richard Nixon as President, he comes to life on the screen.
The face, the stoop, the mannerisms--they're all there. This is not an
actor playing a role; it is as if Nixon himself is on screen. And it's
not a wholly unsympathetic portrayal. Nixon does not come off as a
monster or as deranged, more as someone to be pitied than despised.
The other performances, including Michael Sheen's, are very solid, but Langella has done something truly extraordinary by removing the impression of an actor playing a part. I'll be very surprised if he doesn't earn an Oscar nomination, or even and Oscar as best actor for this performance. Langella has certainly come a long ways from his excellent performance in the underrated 1970 Mel Brooks film, The Twelve Chairs.
Forst/Nixon as a whole is riveting. Given that it's a fairly simple story with a known ending, this is quite an achievement. You don't have to be a Watergate junkie to enjoy this film; even a passing familiarity with those momentous events in our history is sufficient. Not a moment of the 122-minute running time is wasted--or dull.
It's been a long time since I've seriously thought about walking out in the middle of a movie, but with this film I can mighty close. Instead, I dozed off for a while. There is nothing interesting, novel, imaginative or deep about this movie. It tries very, very hard to be lovable, but succeeds only in being annoying. The plot, such as it is, seems like it was made up by a bunch of college kids sitting around stoned, and the dialogue sounds like it was written on the back of an envelope. Zach Braff looks like he's on a heavy dose of Quaaludes for the entire movie, and pretty much everyone else looks like they forgot to take their Prozac. Worst of all, there was nothing funny about this movie--it's mostly sappy and boring. I thought I had seen the worst movie of the year last week when I saw "Exorcist: The Beginning" but I found myself longing to be back watching that movie, which at least had some interesting special effects. Miss this movie at all costs.
This giant turkey flew in late for Thanxgiving, but it managed to waste three precious hours out of my life anyway. Interminable and self-indulgent director's shots, action that defies even the most determined effort at suspending disbelief, terrible acting (especially by Jack Black, who should never, ever be given more than a cameo role), a muddled plot that moved like molasses in winter and huge CGI effects that look very much like CGI effects--all of these make this a movie to be endured, not enjoyed. The ape alone was good, but his relationship with the Naomi Watts character is hardly any more understandable than in past King Kong movies. No doubt we have to believe that Kong sees her as beautiful and delicate, just as we do--which means that he must see himself as brutish and ugly. That is a problem that plagues all Kong movies but I had hoped that this one would somehow solve it, but not a chance. This is not a director that's interested in plot or character, or even in making the movie intelligible to viewers. This is self-indulgent directing of the worst kind.
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