Hey folks, I'm gonna get into the summer movie spirit and post a little teaser for an event that will be beginning on Friday, July 11th, and carrying on until The Dark Knight's release on the 18th.
Before diving into my review of Drillbit Taylor, I have to make clear my status as a dedicated fan of the work of Mr. Owen Wilson. While the cool kids prefer to only wax poetic over the brilliance of his droll collaborations with director Wes Anderson, best displayed in the acidic The Royal Tenenbaums, I’m one of many who derives equal amounts of joy from Wilson’s carefree Zen-like performances in films like The Wedding Crashers, Meet the Parents, and the criminally underrated Shanghai Noon series. Heck, I even paid to see Behind Enemy Lines and I Spy in theatres, and if that isn’t a declaration of my fandom I don’t know what is. 
n persona depends entirely on the strength of his collaborators. So, when it was announced that Drillbit Taylor would team him with mega-producer Judd Apatow and co-writer Seth Rogen, the devious brainchildren behind the fresh and hilarious trifecta of The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Knocked Up and Superbad, I was nearly giddy with anticipation. Sadly, however, sitting in the darkened theatre my excitement quickly began to dwindle. It’s an established rule that the success of comedy depends heavily on tonal consistency, and in that regard Drillbit is a mess.
filtrating their school as a substitute teacher. However, as the viciousness of the bullying increases, Drillbit must decide between friendship and financial gain.
ly grim and psychotic that he drags the film down every time he appears. Bullying is rarely funny, but less so when there are actually attempts at committing murder.
tch a comedic actor flounder, and the whiff of desperation grows stronger throughout the film. He gets little assistance from director Steven Brill, who continues his streak of slap-dash film-making, as previously on display in the Adam Sandler “classics” Mr. Deeds and Little Nicky.
Hey there, just a short update (It's 12:30am and I'm too tired to rattle on like a dementia- crazed Floridian). Now, I'm sure any of you wandering over to this inconsistently updated corner of the web-verse are well educated on the upcoming G.I. Joe film adaptation. It's been covered half to death over at aintitcool.com and the most excellent chud.com. But before I get to the news, an update for the confused. 
G buffoonery! Man, those were two hours of my life I'll never get back... You know, I don't know why I'm wasting space talking about anything that goblin hack is associated with! Oh yeah, I remember! See, as much as I dislike the directorial ineptitude of Sommers, I do have a soft spot for G.I. Joe.
t alteration: they are now a global taskforce as opposed to an American power. Probably a good idea for foreign business. So far, the cast includes: Dennis Quaid (Day After Tomorrow, Jaws 3D) as Hawk, Channing Tatum (Step Up) as Duke, Joseph Gordon-Levitt (3rd Rock From The Sun, The Lookout) as Cobra Commander (Apparently a pivotal character in the movie who will begin on the side of good and transform into the bitchy narcissist we know and love by film's end.), Sienna Miller (Stardust, Layer Cake) as Baroness, Rachel Nichols (P2) as Scarlett, Christopher Eccleston (28 Days Later) as Destro (The film's main villain), Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje (!!!) (Get Rich And Die Trying) as Heavy Duty, Marlon Wayans (Scary Movie, Requiem For A Dream) as Ripcord, Arnold Vosloo (The Mummy) as Zartan, Byung-hun Lee as Storm Shadow and most exciting of all: Jonathan Pryce (Pirates Of The Caribbean trilogy) as "The President".
ge movie! Though I could happily discuss that wretched Brian DePalma debacle for hours... Anyways, I'm referring, obviously, to everyone's favorite mute, black-clad ninja-assassin. Well, as was announced a while back, he'll be portrayed by Ray Park (Pictured right), he who was Darth Maul and Toad in X-Men, as well as his most popular character: A.J. Ross in Ballistic: Ecks Vs. Sever! Park, a killer martial artist, is frankly the largest reason I'm psyched to see this flick. Snake-Eyes, the biggest fan-fave, has to potential to be an awesome vehicle to show off Park's skills and agility. Hopefully Sommers, after finishing "Directing For Dummies", re-watched Star Wars: Episode I and made notes. Give this guy long shots and long takes. No crappy Bourne-style camera work. No MTV-editing. This is obviously all speculation, as its unlikely Sommers has the ability to write, but I can hope and pray that Park finally gets a good launching pad that could get his first dream project, a film adaptation of Marvel's Iron Fist, off and running.
up amongst my desperate-for-attention yammering. Enjoy.
ually close to that point now, so I'm gonna git to bed. I'm tired and have to work tomorrow. Check back soon for more wacky Jonathan Pryce-related news here as Cam's P.(ryce)-C.(entred) Episodes.
To call Doomsday the funniest film you'll see all year may sound like something of an insult, and indeed it sort of is. Brit director Neil Marshall, who helmed and wrote the stylish and frightening 2005 spelunking horror flick The Descent, returns here with what can only be described as a grotesque assemblage of scenes from far better movies. It's like Marshall couldn't select one or two movies to rip off, so he decided to do as many as possible in one gloriously disjointed explosion of carnage and absurdity. The results are campy, over-indulgent, and sometimes oddly brilliant.
inent for the last 30 years. However, in "2035.Now", as the title card slyly reads, the infection has escaped into populated London, while simultaneously survivors have been spotted by satellite living in the infected zone. A heavily armed Special Forces team, led by Eden Sinclair (Rhona Mitra - Pictured right), have just 48 hours to enter the zone and track down the elusive Dr. Kane (Malcolm McDowell) in hopes of finding a cure. The task is complicated immensely by the discovery of a cannibalistic army of nomads (Who like like Maori warriors crossed with the Sex Pistols), which leads to essentially ninety minutes of excessive brutality and ultra-splatter.
awke, 28 Days Later, and the Gimp from Pulp Fiction thrown in for good measure. But homages can be a lot of fun when handled properly, and Marshall manages to pull off the majority, with exception to the fight scenes. Despite liberally pilfering elements from a number of better action films, similar scenes in Doomsday are shoddily edited and nearly incomprehensible. The hand-to-hand combat lacks geography and establishing shots, which takes away from the visceral thrills. The car chases fair much better, however, and are a fitting tribute to George Miller’s The Road Warrior.
iness is immediately gone the second cannibal-biker leader Sol, played by a possessed Craig Conway (Pictured right), takes the stage. What follows is a scene of pure, unbridled B-movie glory. As the bikers gather at a Thunderdome-like arena, Sol preens and prances across a stage, lip-synching “Good Thing” by the Fine Young Cannibals, while being backed by gyrating female pole dancers and kilted male Scottish dancers. It’s the best scene in the film, unforgettable in its ludicrousness, and it instantly erases our memories of the tortured earlier scenes.
John Carpenter spirit that emphasizes cheesy thrills over even a modicum of intelligence. And indeed, its difficult to really dislike any film that treats us to a close-up on an exploding rabbit... Or a decapitated head bouncing off the camera lens... Or a buff heroine outrunning knights on horseback in a 2008 Bentley... Or a... Well, you'll just have to see the rest for yourself. And if you do go, bring friends... And perhaps alcohol if you feel so inclined.
Hey kids, it’s me, Uncle Cam, returning from my schoolwork-imposed exile! While I've been toiling away on scintillating essays on Chaucer, Shakespeare and Virgil, mucho movie stuff has been going on, uncommented on by yours truly. Why, we've seen the release of the brilliant Iron Man, Indiana Jones and Dark Knight trailers, as well as the release of The Hottie and the Nottie! Well, no more shall these important global events go unrecognized, which is why I feel compelled to escape my studies to comment on the newest bit of studio-produced hype: the trailer for The Incredible Hulk!!!
hat no one outside of the fanatical has any idea it’ll be dropping into theatres this summer. While The Dark Knight, Iron Man and Hellboy 2 have been raising awareness throughout the year, building ravenous anticipation, The Incredible Hulk has just been plodding along, seemingly oblivious of the necessity to raise any sense of excitement or awareness. Well, good on them! Sure they put out a bunch of glossy and semi-nifty screen shots, but let’s face it, no one really noticed (or cared). But that time is over, and the marketing brainiacs have stewed up a colossal, bloated CG-crammed monstrosity of a trailer to plug the collective film-going arteries.
ible Hulk trailer in a nutshell. When viewed in screenshots this thing looked promising, but when actually delivered it makes you want to give up solids. Well, almost.
se's lights turned off??? Stylistic decisions aside, it's never good when a movie trailer like this starts off with bad, ironic laughs.
you in, though. Liv Tyler is taking over for Jennifer Connelly, playing Banner's love interest Betty Ross, who is also daughter to General "Thunderbolt" Ross (William Hurt - Laughing his way to the bank! - Pictured left). The General wants Banner's DNA secrets for the military. Old Tim Roth, on the other hand, is Emil Bronsky, a Russian spy, who gets injected with Hulk-errific serum and becomes the poorly realized CG-menace, Abomination, shown arbitrarily at the end of the trailer. Banner then must deal with his inner-Hulkness and man up and go save the day. While this is a potentially compelling story, there's no dramatic interest from any of these people here (Other than Norton), and indeed no dialogue from anyone other than the star, save for a single Hurt-driven expositional utterance in the trailer! So, since there is not a single human emotion on display, let’s focus on the Abomination and Hulk himself.
semblance to Tim Roth, is borderline embarrassing. His design is okay, in that it is basically just a more organic and solid looking Spidey 3 Sandman copycat, but he has all the weight and charisma of a screensaver. The same goes for the Hulk, who looks half-decent... Until he moves. Then, he becomes a glowing, pixe
llated cartoon. Both characters have zero screen presence, thus packing all the dramatic power of a PS3 cut scene. Their dramatic clash at the end is so underwhelming that it will likely inspire collective indifference from the masses. It's really sad when the whole selling point of your superhero movie looks about as convincing as Shrek the Third. As well, I have dire suspicions that the specific reason the filmmakers chose to film this whole epic clash of the polygons in pitch darkness was as a desperate attempt to obscure their obviously shaky efforts. Call it Godzilla '98 syndrome.
ly equate a bad movie, and vice versa. Heck, I loved the Transformers trailer and look at how that turned out! I hope Norton and crew pull it off and impress the hell out of me. I'll give them a glowing review on here and go door-to-door raising awareness of Hulk! But, on the basis of this supremely lame effort I now have to place The Incredible Hulk in the "Potential Flops" category for summer '08. Oh well, at least Speed Racer and The Love Guru can keep it company.
How does one review a movie like Rambo? It is a blood-soaked, brutal exercise in pain, sadism, and aggression without a hint of irony. To say that it does it better than almost any action film I've seen is almost beside the point. It takes the violent stakes set by First Blood Part II and Rambo III and decapitates them with Panzer tank shells. So, let's start with a look at the Rambo legacy, as it were.
does the newest film fit into the established world of John Rambo?
so years. He is found by a group of Christian relief workers (led by Julie Benz (left with Stallone) and Paul Schulze), and they plead with him to drive them by boat into war-torn Burma so they can aid the suffering. After some coaxing by Benz, he begrudgingly agrees and takes them over. Before you can say "Ballistic Carnage", the group are captured (and also their entire village gruesomely raped/decapitated/torched/shot/exploded/ vivisected/gutted/severed/you get the picture). Back at Rambo's home (and by home I mean hammock), a priest comes and pleads with Rambo to take a group of Church-paid mercenaries to the relief workers' destination so they can extract the workers and get them home. After a soul-searching montage, Rambo suits up and leads the team into action. Much vivid butchery follows.
here it is to the films benefit. The characters are mainly archetypes with a minimum of detail, and the villains are mostly faceless. I appreciated the ways in which the mercenaries are sketched out. We know next to nothing about them, other than a few passing bits we get through behaviour. It makes sense. Hired mercenaries are men who thrive on secrecy. They don't communicate with each other more than what is necessary. Much like Rambo himself. As played by the 61-year-old Stallone, he has settled into a nice quiet gruffness which is perfectly suited to the material. Stallone is without question a limited actor, but he is under-appreciated in the ways he can create an internalized character and communicate everything through silence and eye gestures. He plays John Rambo as well here as he did in '82 with First Blood.
s emotionally shut down and lost touch with humanity. Well, after witnessing what the villains do here we share that mindset. The world is an ugly place and sometimes violence is necessary. Whether you agree with the message or not, Stallone makes his message clear and concise. We are so filled with disgust that we want to see Rambo decimate this group beyond reason. The final firefight, which surely is a nod to The Wild Bunch, is roughly twenty minutes of grisly catharsis. Disgusting or not, it delivers exactly what one hopes for after the momentous killing sprees of Rambo's 2 & 3. The ending is a brief downbeat nod to the first film that leaves us with a poetic sense of relief after the exhausting visceral experience we've just undergone.
othing short of commendable after years of PG-13 action-lite extravaganzas. Sylvester Stallone has crafted a mean little film that, while it will never get much critical respect, is a relentlessly pure experience that leaves you breathless and numb by the end. To enjoy it is almost not an option. It is meant to be endured, and I can't help but thank Stallone for creating an action-film that actually made me feel something. It's a fitting end for John Rambo, and a film-going experience I won't soon forget.
I don't usually write up obits for celebrities who pass on, but this one struck me surprisingly hard. Maybe it's because we're basically the same age, or perhaps because I've followed him from the beginning of his career to now, I'm not sure. Most likely, however, it is because I've watched him transition from clever work in teen-oriented films to full-fledged brilliancy as a character actor and it is a shame to see so much promise disappear so quickly.
own his sex appeal in favour of more character-based work. A Knight's Tale was a fun jaunt, that dared to try something different with the genre, and not follow conventions, and his performance in Monster's Ball was darkly heartbreaking.
Academy had faith he'd be back.
Hey there you few, who still bother wandering over to this neglected avenue of cyberspace. It hasn't been a great year for my blog, other than an unexpected mention on CBS news online, but I'm aiming to get her back on track. This upcoming semester will hopefully allow me more time to write, and hopefully get quoted again somewhere legit. I do strongly appreciate all you Gerard Butler webmasters who quoted my article on the now aborted Escape From New York project, though. Recognition always helps to grease the creative wheels and y'all were no exception to that rule.
produce. Instead I was force-fed a cynical, wit-starved, behemoth of ugliness which joins fellow inductees Godzilla and Armageddon in underlining the worst that crass commercial filmmaking can create.
g with horrific material, or at least an intriguing train wreck? Turns out in this case the answer is neither. Wild Hogs is the most uncomfortable film experience of the year, a dead zone of audience pandering, ineptly staged hilarity, and forced performances that makes one's skin crawl.
remely tired mob story coupled with a laughably pathetic twist ending.
is production manages to render one of the most fascinating on-screen villains of all time boring. Credit must go to young Gaspard Ulliel who is either a terrible actor or an extra who wandered onto the wrong set. He takes Anthony Hopkins quiet menace and turns it into whiny, emo foppishness.
ishment. I think Jim Carrey is the tops. I've liked almost everything he's done. This one, however, was a truly stunning horror of a film in which every decision made was evidently wrong.
The title of Canadian auteur David Cronenberg's new film Eastern Promises may not sound very familiar to you. In fact, it may very likely sound like something you would go out of your way not to watch. There is a bland, generic sound to the title that is at complete odds with the exciting, challenging and hypnotic work lurking beneath. Yes, folks, we have us a winner and I've been appointed (Never mind by who!) to tell you that you owe it to yourselves to mark this one down on your "To See" lists. And hey, you get to see Aragorn in ways never before imagined (although perhaps fantasized by some...).
. The girl, track-marked and filthy, dies in childbirth, leaving a healthy baby girl and a diary behind. She soon finds herself inside the Russian restaurant of Semyon (Armin Mueller-Stahl), a seemingly friendly old man, who is overly eager to take the diary off Anna's hands and provide her with a proper translation. Little to her knowing, Semyon is an extremely dangerous mob kingpin, and soon she finds herself involved not only with him, but also his disturbed son Kirill (Seymour Cassel) and stoic, quiet driver Nikolai (Viggo Mortensen). What follows brings dark secrets to light and incidents occur that alter the future of both Anna's family (Made up of her mother and Russian immigrant Uncle), and Semyon's.
ce. I felt that film strayed into Bizzaro-land half way through and never really ended on a satisfying note. Evidently, many disagree. Regardless, Eastern Promises is a completely satisfying cinematic experience. Cronenberg (left)has taken a familiar genre and crafted something personal and stunningly elegant. To be sure, Promises is often stomach-churningly violent, with graphic bodily dismemberment and stabbings, but it is also beautiful to look at. Its dark hues and artistically seedy environments breathe their atmosphere onto the audience. We don't sit by as passive watchers, we feel this world. The credit for this has to go to Cronenberg and cinematographer Peter Suschitzky, who obviously weren't content to just tell a great story (written by Steven Knight) and ignore the visual details.
singly more impressed by films that just take their time and let us spend time with the characters. Eastern Promises does this nicely, and we find ourselves as unwittingly pulled into the violent Russian underworld as Naomi Watt's character. It's seductive really, and a tribute to Cronenberg's faith in his story to just let the events happen without forcing the story ahead.
i, is a man of few words who says more through bodily gestures and looks than we initially realize. Mortensen also gives his character a frightening capacity for sudden violence that is stunning. There is a four minute fight scene in a Russian bath where he battles two armed thugs, wearing nothing but a body-ful of tattoos. Many actors would look uncomfortable or get giggles for fighting with their, er, hobbits, on full display, but Mortensen makes it scary and animalistic. He is also brilliantly strong in his scenes with each of the supporting actors. His scenes with Watts, in particular, are captivating in how they communicate the character's buried sensitivity and yearning for this damaged soul who symbolizes a glimmer of purity outside of the abyss he has become entangled in. Frankly, I'll be writing many a letter if Mortensen doesn't get an Oscar nod in the New Year. That's right! Many!
outh full of cotton. Mueller-Stahl (right) wonderfully mixes silent menace and grandfatherly friendliness to create a character we could almost love... If he wasn't such a complete bastard. And while Cassel's and Mortensen's characters handle all the ugly stuff on-screen, it's Mueller-Stahl who disgusts us the most. He's a sick man in a never-ending struggle to maintain his dignity and reputation. He is disappointed beyond belief in his son, but realizes that he is all that is left to carry on his mantle. Mueller-Stahl makes us feel this man's pain and we understand why characters cling to this man's side. Semyon may be a monster, but he is a comforting paternal presence who truly understands what he is doing. It truly is dazzling work.
ality efforts. She will likely be overlooked here, as her character is the entry point for the audience and thus lacks the eccentric flourishes of the other characters. Still, it's another triumph for an actress who is often taken for granted.
ags that we almost fail to recognize what he brings to this film. His character is the weakest of the central characters, and the one who realizes how lost he is in this world. It's all he knows, yet he is a loose cannon with little hope of ever being able to properly take his father's place. In several scenes, Cassel lets the bravado of the character crack apart and reveal the insecurity and deranged anger within. He's both frightening and pitiful, and Kirill is another worthy addition to the actor's rogues gallery of villains.
revious works. Rather, it's a brilliant genre film as well as an incisive character piece. It gives all the thrills that come with the mobster flick territory, but manages to touch us a little deeper. It's a melancholy gem that is ambiguous and immersive. It's also one of the strongest films of the year.
