The adventures of Gustave H, a legendary concierge at a famous hotel from the fictional Republic of Zubrowka between the first and second World Wars, and Zero Moustafa, the lobby boy who becomes his most trusted friend.
F. Murray Abraham,
WWII American Army Medic Desmond T. Doss, who served during the Battle of Okinawa, refuses to kill people, and becomes the first man in American history to receive the Medal of Honor without firing a shot.
Aspiring actress serves lattes to movie stars in between auditions and jazz musician Sebastian scrapes by playing cocktail-party gigs in dingy bars. But as success mounts, they are faced with decisions that fray the fragile fabric of their love affair, and the dreams they worked so hard to maintain in each other threaten to rip them apart. Written by
In the opening dance sequence on the freeway, they took both directions of the westbound carpool lane of the 105 to 110 freeway. Half of the cars are facing backwards in the scene. See more »
In the Lighthouse cafe, before Sebastian met Keith for the first time. Sebastian took Mia's hand and went across the dance floor, sitting by the table of two. Mia went too fast and hit the table slightly while something, possibly a recording device or Mia's left earring, fell on the table and Sebastian caught it by hand. Then he smoothly collected it in his pocket without explaining what it was or returning it back to Mia. See more »
A film that fails the Turing test - in reverse. Or something. What I mean is that after the first 5 minutes the unpleasant sensation crawled over me that I was participating in a rather sinister experiment, watching a movie made by a computer which was testing me by attempting to provoke a human-like response. Stuffed with algorithms culled from proper movies and musicals, the computer has generated a script and a set of scenarios based on user-preference and targeted directly at my very own demographic! Its eerie; the songs sound like songs but aren't quite, the dialogue sounds like people but not quite, nothing that happens has a real reason or point other than to crank through the plot, the jazz looks like jazz and sounds like jazz but isn't, quite, and the set-ups calculated to provoke an emotional effect left me untouched and feeling slightly hollow. What has been thrown, hurled and heaved at this film is Oscar-seeking acting, Oscar-seeking direction and Oscar-seeking technical twiddling. And hey ho and guess what, it got Oscars. Its the apotheosis of junk food, finally. You don't even need to make the effort to chew; it can now just squirt directly into you via the eyes and ears, a simulacrum of nourishment, over-flavoured glop taking the name of real love, real music, real acting and real life in vain.
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