+The Red Violin [B] Titus [B] Girl, Interrupted [B] Galaxy Quest [B+] The Talented Mr. Ripley [C] Any Given Sunday [C-] Stuart Little [B-] +The Lovers of the Arctic Circle [B-] Topsy-Turvy [C+] Magnolia [A-] Cradle Will Rock [C+] Holy Smoke [D] The End of the Affair [A] Liberty Heights [B-] All About My Mother [B+] Felicia's Journey [C] Sleepy Hollow [B] The Insider [B]
I hope you like violins, because that's what you get in The Red
Violin. Lots of virtuoso violin on the soundtrack, lots of shots
of violins (including a dazzling montage where the shots dissolve around
a seemingly-fixed violin), even a little violence to violins to push
the story along. Breezingly entertaining in a high-gloss arthouse way,
especially in the film's final act when Samuel Jackson steps to the plate
as a violin restorer and expert obsessed with the titular instrument.
The fault lies not with the stars, who are much stronger
than I expected (I take back everything I said in my e-mail
to Alex), nor much with Julie Taymor's extravagant direction
but with the plain simple fact that Titus Andronicus
isn't a very good play: proof that even the Bard resorted
to the Idiot Plot. Still, Titus has a decadent and baroque
Grand Guignol flair much like Thomas Harris' much-maligned
Hannibal, the second funniest book I've read this year.
Intelligent and superbly acted (I can't think
of a more quintessential role for Winona Ryder),
Girl suffers from the general shapelessness
of memoir-based films.
An absolute blast for anyone who's ever been fond
of cheesy sf tv series, Qalaxy Quest manages to
be both a rousing space adventure and a loving spoof
of same. And underneath its fizzy pop surface, it
plays with the same issues of artifice v. reality
and self-identity that drove The Matrix and
Being John Malkovich. Only real negative is
Tim Allen in the lead.
Wings of the Dove flashbacks: sumptous
Italian detail, glossy arthouse direction, and
as dull and lifeless as a wet noodle. I suspect one's
admiration depends on how one feels about Matt Damon's
performance as the amoral Ripley; I think he's badly miscast
and awful.
Ridiculously overblown football saga that's best enjoyed as
unintentional macho camp. Which is good, since if I actually took this
seriously, this would be one of the most foul and hypocritical
films ever made.
The story's mawkish crap, but all the little details
are quite amusing. I enjoyed the dollhouse look of most
of Stuart's props, the fairy-tale quality of its New York
City, and the moments of absurd whimsy that occur
throughout.
Kieslowski as filtered through the rather florid mentality
of Spanish melodrama; a fine example of the latter (and
rather sedate compared to others I've seen) until it goes
awry with a lousy ending.
Add to list of things I don't care for: Gilbert & Sullivan.
There's nothing seriously wrong with Leigh's film but given
the subject matter, there's plenty of their work performed,
and the vast majority of it leaves me cold -- musically
dull and clever without being remotely funny. For the Leigh
stuff itself, the acting is great w/ an especially terrific
performance from Jim Broadbent and there's some wonderful
scenes as the actors rehearse but the film takes an awfully
long time to get there.
Plays like absolute gangbusters; Paul Thomas Anderson wants
nothing less than to give you a three hour cinematic orgasm.
Naturally, with something that ambitious, he doesn't quite
succeed and there are times when the intensity of his approach
makes you want to slip him some Valium. (There's also the
little problem that the film ultimately doesn't cohere.)
Still the guy's maturing and even now PT Anderson is such
an awesome talent that Magnolia is never less than
vastly entertaining and absorbing with a weirdly wonderful
climax.
Diffuse, sprawling and lightweight account that suffers from
far too many characters and subplots to give any but the most
superficial treatment to them; only Cherry Jones and Bill
Murray (who seems to be making the transition from comic lead to
his place in the William H. Macy Pantheon of great character actors)
seem to inhabit fully-fleshed human beings instead of sketches
and caricatures. And is it just me, but is anyone else annoyed
by the missing article in the title?
First it's boring, then it's stupid *and* boring when it throws
in bad Aussie comedy leftovers, then Harvey Keitel starts wandering
through the Australian desert in a red cocktail dress. Be afraid.
Be very afraid.
Immaculately acted with a magnificent score from Michael
Nyman, Neil Jordan's latest feels like a hypothetical version of
Breaking the Waves where Stellan Skaarsgard tells God
to fuck off.
Another fine period drama marred by a dumb crime plot.
Supremely entertaining (if you enjoy the occasional wallow in
melodrama; terminal cynics need not apply) and finely acted,
but as much as I want to adore it, I have to admit there isn't
much actual drama in its numerous moments of bathos and comedy.
First Scorsese, then Burton, now Egoyan. It's been a lousy
few weeks from some of my favorite directors. Egoyan should
perhaps reconsider doing adaptations, as fine as The Sweet
Hereafter was, since when his trademark obsessions and
tics go against ill-suited material (the case here) the results
are catastrophic. One moment of immense emotional power, but
a waste of Egoyan's and my time otherwise.
The most accomplished and thrilling action film Hollywood's made this
year, with a wonderfully eccentric turn from Depp and truly astonishing
visuals. It's a symptom of how ludicrously high my expectations are of
Tim Burton that I consider this a major disappointment, as he fails to
flesh out most of the intriguing subtext bubbling underneath the surface.
I have to give Michael Mann credit; he makes an intriguing and never-dull
150 minute film with less than promising subject matter. However, the methods
he's used to inject drama are suspect. He starts with the paranoid claustrophobia
from the word go, making the early parts of the films overheated. Still, it could be
worse; I shudder at the thought of Oliver Stone's take on this material.