Change Your Image
tmitch-1
Reviews
Return of the Six Million Dollar Man and the Bionic Woman (1987)
I would seriously NOT recommend becoming buddies with Steve
Did you ever notice that nearly EVERYONE who becomes buddies with Steve Austin ends up having the same sort of devestating triple-amputee accident that nearly finished him off in the first place? Jaime Sommers - Pro tennis player and extremely hot babe. Becomes enganged to Steve Austin... Splatto!! - loses three limbs and an ear in a sky-diving accident.
Michael Austin - Test pilot, estranged son of Steve Austin. Re-united and reconciled with his estranged dad, Steve Austin... Whammo!! - loses three limbs and an eye in a crash nearly identical to Dad's mishap.
Maximillion - Jaime's dog. Yes, that's right - even DOGS who get mixed up with Steve or Jaime end up on the operating room/chop shop table.
House of Wax (2005)
What actually killed Paris?
This was a pretty good horror flick.
It won't go down as a classic, but it had it's moments - I actually stopped breathing through my nose when Carly fell into the dead animal pit.
Also, the part where Wade gets turned into a wax figure while he is still alive is pretty disturbing. And it's even more disturbing when you realize that he's still alive even after he's put on display.
What I just can't figure out is - what killed Paris Hilton?
I mean, the steel pipe rammed its way straight through her BRAIN... not exactly a vital Paris Hilton organ.
King Kong (1976)
"King Kong" and "Star Trek: The Motion Picture"
The 1976 version of "King Kong" and the very first (I think it was 1979) big-screen adaptation of "Star Trek" are two of the very first movies I can recall seeing in a movie theater. I think I was about eight when I saw "King Kong" and about ten when I saw "Star Trek: The Motion Picture." And I vividly remember sitting in the theater silently for several minutes after both films ended with my jaw open - unable to put into words the immensity of my disappointment. I couldn't even summon the strength to get up and leave until my mom prodded me several times.
Although I knew I felt let down by both the "King Kong" remake and the first "Star Trek" movie, it wasn't until some years later that I realized just how similar my disappointment was in both cases.
The 1933 release of "King Kong" and the 1960s "Star Trek" TV series were two of my all-time-favorite childhood entertainment staples. I loved both despite their flaws, and maybe even because of them. They had become like an old friends whom you learn to love all the more for all of their goofy quirks and frailties. The over-dramatic acting, cheesy special effects, and thunderously melodramatic music of both the original "King Kong" and the original "Star Trek" just made them all the more endearing. Like a good friend, they weren't perfect, but their hearts were always in the right place, and you never got tired of visiting them over and over again.
So, when updated big-screen adaptations of "King Kong" and "Star Trek" came out, I of course assumed that I would love the new versions for the same reasons that I loved their predecessors, and that the only difference would be that the new offerings would be even better.
And, boy, was I blown away. And not in a good way.
In place of the lovable - if overly earnest - characters of the originals were either hollow, soulless shadows of their former selves (as in "Star Trek"); or stupid, annoying, completely unlikable jerks (as in "King Kong).
Instead of the fast-paced and engagingly simple story lines of the originals, we got slow, uninteresting, and hopelessly convoluted story lines that no one could possibly care about - even if they could actually follow what was happening.
And worst of all, I realized with rising dread as I sat through both movies that I just didn't like what these old friends had become. And not just in the sense that I didn't want to spend time with them anymore; I literally didn't like THEM. They used to be honest and forthright; now they were dodgy and self-delusional. There was a time when they never took themselves too seriously, and never passed on an opportunity to laugh at themselves; now they were self-important, arrogant, and took themselves deadly seriously. And where you once felt they were happiest when they made you happy; they now had become the center of their own universe, and seemed to believe that it was your job to revolve around them - no matter how boring and uninteresting they had become.
Well, I gave my old friend "Star Trek" another chance, and apparently it was just an adolescent phase she was going through. She was back to her old self by the time "The Wrath of Khan" came out. Now she's getting up there in years, but she's still the same friend from my childhood. I don't always like spending time with her, but I always like her.
After 29 years, I'm anxious to give another one of my childhood friends another chance. Thanks, Peter Jackson.
The Forgotten (2004)
Intent of the film is misunderstood
For me, "The Forgotten" was one of those movies that you can watch twice, and have an entirely different opinion of it the second time around.
I actually didn't see the exact same movie twice. I watched the theatrical release first, and then the director's cut. The fact that I watched two slightly different versions of the same movie actually made me appreciate both versions more.
When I first watched the movie, I shared the opinion most people had of it. Specifically, that there was nothing really wrong with it, but that it was just another version of the what-if-everything-we-think-we-know-is-just-an-illusion offering that we've already seen in "Total Recall," all three "Matrix" films, and countless episodes of "The Twilight Zone." After viewing the director's cut, however, I came to the conclusion that the film was never trying to be a revolutionary or cutting-edge thriller. If it was, the differences between the theatrical release and the director's cut (that the evil alien wasn't so evil after all, that the experiment ran to completion, etc) would have been more important than the similarities - that nothing could ever wipe her son from Telly's memory, and that a mother's love could be stronger than an alien technology light-years ahead of our own.
What I believe the film was trying to be - and succeeded - was a tribute to the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child. And in this respect, it hits all the right notes. If it is only a Luke-warm sci-fi thriller, it is also a pretty darn good study of a mother-child relationship.
Not great, but pretty darn good.
As a thriller, I give it five out of ten. As a portrait of a mother's love, I give it an eight.
Oh, and I give Julianne what she is - a ten.
Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)
Give Christenson some credit
I just saw the film yesterday.
Like most people, I thought this one was great, and that Lucas finally redeemed the lackluster spectacle of the two previous outings.
Like most people, I also didn't think Hayden Christensen is going to be up for an Academy Award for best actor anytime soon. Granted, his lines didn't give him all that much to work with, but - as Alec Guinness and Ian McDiarmid have demonstrated - great actors can transcend even the clunkiest dialog.
However, I think it is important to recognize what Christensen did contribute to the movie outside of his spoken dialog, and how the entire performance would be far less exiting and convincing in nearly anyone else's hands.
Specifically, I'm talking about the light-saber duels - all of which were done entirely by Christensen and McGregor themselves (I won't spend any time defending McGregor; just because his acting hasn't been bashed nearly as hard as poor Christensen's).
Like most actors, Christensen and McGregor had stunt doubles. However, after months and months of intense training - training that would take the wind out of the hardiest Jedi Knight's sails - Christensen and McGregor surpassed their stunt doubles, and Lucas decided they would do all of the swordplay themselves.
I don't claim to be an expert on fencing, but I do know a kick-ass swordplay scene when I see it. And in my opinion, the Obi-Wan/Anakin fight scene at the end alone was more butt-kicking than all of the swordplay from Gladiator, Braveheart, and all of the Robin Hood movies combined. The only swordplay I have ever seen that can even compare to the swordplay in ROTS would be that of movies such as "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," or "Hero," - which was done by accomplished professional martial artists.
And the importance of an actor doing his/her own stunts - and doing them well - is often overlooked. It's not until you see an obvious stunt double standing in for an actor during a fight scene or a real-life actor performing stunts that he/she obviously doesn't have the chops to do that you realize how important an actor's stunt work is to upholding the suspension of disbelief - particularly in an action-oriented film like ROTS.
So, hats off to Hayden Christensen. I would rather watch him stumble over clunky dialog - but give mind-blowing light-saber performances - than watch the greatest thespian in the world give a Shakespearian performance while a stunt double in a bad wig handles the action.
JFK (1991)
Did I see the same movie?
I keep wondering if I watched the same movie as everyone else...
And it's not just that I didn't care for the film. Different strokes, after all.
What I just can't get my head around are the reasons people give for why they believe JFK is a masterpiece...
First of all, I keep hearing people say that JFK is a masterful organization of complex information. It seemed to me that Stone just threw together every conceivable disjointed theory - in no particular order or organization - and doesn't even tell us which one is the right one. I mean, at the end of the movie, I couldn't even say who I thought I was SUPPOSED to believe actually killed JFK. Was it LBJ? The mafia? The Dallas police force?... Joe Pesci? Second of all, people who never believed that anyone besides Lee Harvey Oswald killed JFK say that - after seeing this movie - they are now ardent believers that there actually was a conspiracy. Well, in my book, the movie pretty much demonstrated that all the conspiracy theories are the result of a lot of people looking very hard for evidence to support their theories - and eventually finding this "evidence" in everyday events and coincidences.
From a statistical point of view, the Bermuda Triangle has no greater incidence of lost ships and planes than any other area of the ocean. It's just that - once people started looking in that particular area - the Triangle began to seem like the disappearance capital of the world.
In the case of JFK, it seemed that Stone proved by example that - if you look hard enough - you can come up with evidence to support the theory that Santa Clause was behind JFK's assassination.
It seems to me that - after watching JFK, you either have to come to the conclusion that a) everyone in the known universe (except, of course, Lee Harvey Oswald) was in on the assassination, or b) that pretty much all of the conspiracy theories are the result of overactive imaginations.
The only points I give to JFK are for effort and for an impressive cast.
I give it 3 out of 10.