Another week another column
. Two for two, not bad going but I
gotta reach five before I have a new record. Wonder how our new competitor
is doing? At least we don't need a page full of
carefully selected sycophantia to validate ourselves. I'd like to think that, at least for
some people, the work we do speaks for itself and we don't need
to prove ourselves to you by showing you reams of ass-kissing soundbites instead. Seriously,
who cares if Harvey Weinstein likes us, we're here for you, not the
industry.
NotSoSuperbowl
So last week was a disappointingly
controversy free Superbowl. No streakers, no wardrobe malfunctions, no
FCC-baiting adverts lampooning said wardrobe malfunctions. Infact no
reason for controversy whatsoever, unless you consider that Paul
McCartney was 26 years old when his current wife was born. Man, even the
game's result wasn't a shock. All we really had to keep us happy were the sweet
TV spots for some quality film action. Hell, what am I saying - I live in the UK
so I didn't even get them. If I wasn't a casual football fan I doubt I'd bother
with the whole affair at all next year. However, any ritual that encourages men
to gather in neanderthal groups to drink beer, eat chips and shout incoherently
at the widescreen TV can't be all bad. Keep your Desperate Housewives
, sport is still the best.
Speaking of FCC-baiting and such like, it's time for a
little group participation. Some of the readers of my last batch of Trailer
Trash might remember an, ironically, trashy little regular feature I used to do
which generally involved including a little cheekiness in the final trailer of
the day. Generally in the form of gratuitous nudity. Well, these things aren't
easy to come by, so with a little help from you guys I'd like to bring it back.
It doesn't just have to be nudity, it could be just a particularly brutal
trailer, red band style. I'm not fussy. Anything that would never play in
front of Rugrats go to Paris
will do me fine. Credit will be given to those who come up
with the goods as I can't afford prizes I'm afraid. If you're looking for
prizes, you best drop by Oscar Chat on the 27th.
If you thought Joel Schumacher had
killed the Batman franchise you'd be wrong. Gone are is the garish neon
campness of Schumacher. Gone is the dark, gothic world of Burton. Enter the
new era of Nolan. Where Batman was once a zen samurai warrior and that dude from
28 Days Later
wears a
sack on his head. Gone is the over-designed and
impractical Batmobile, replaced with something that looks like an urban
tank. This trailer rocks. God I can't wait.
Click
here to to buy it in black...
In My Country
Released: 11th March 2005 (Limited)
Could it be that Samuel L. Jackson is about to star in a
good movie for the first time in, I've forgotten how many, years? I hope so.
Well he's teamed up with John Boorman on a Year Of Living Dangerously
style examination of South Africa's
Apartheid era. While it does look a little on the preachy side, let's hope that
it's finally a chance for Sam to prove to the
world he's a badass actor and not just that guy from that
movie who threw it away and started doing anything for a paycheck.
Basil Fawlty was right. When it comes to Germans, don't
mention the War. That was back in the 70s. However, a german has finally decided
it's about time to mention the war. Downfall
is the first german-made movie from Germany to broach the subject
of Adolf
Hitler in 50 years. These are
the final twelve days of Adolf Hitler's life, based
on historical records and fact. Looks fascinating stuff, now if only they can resist the urge to make a dubbed version. Seriously, dubbing only ever works in anime and Godzilla movies, deal with it. Learn to read. Pick up a book.
Seriously... someone get
Nicole Kidman in a random cargo plane and send her away for a year to somewhere
remote. Every bloody month it seems there's a new movie starring the
woman. Even Jude Law isn't this bad. When is the world going to finally
decide is enough is enough and realise that we're just plain oversaturated with
mediocre movies starring the most overrated aussie in existance. I want to like
The Interpreter. I want to see The Interpreter
. But I just don't know if I can stomach yet
another Nicole Kidman Movie™
.
It seems my biggest crime on the
CB forum aside from never having seen The Princess Bride, is that of not finding
Adam Sandler funny. At all. One bit. Between him and Rob Schneider there seems
to exist this black hole of comedy that everyone else loves but which I just
find baffling. This is not Sandler's first movie about american football and as
if to give
it a bonus negative point it's also a
loose remake of a Burt Reynolds movie from the 70s. Burt also stars in
this version, but considering the payments he has to make on alimony and hair-pieces
I guess the dude
can't afford to be choosy. Positive points? Courteney Cox provided a pert couple. Maybe I could give it a shot after all.
Diary of a Mad Black Woman Released: 25th February
2005
This movie has me confused. The
first teaser poster made it look like a serious drama. The second poster made it
look like Stop! Or My Big Momma Will Shoot. And the trailer, while
seemingly a serious romantic drama/comedy is thrown off by what appears
to be Tyler Perry doing a Dr Dolittle by playing a normal character, an old
woman and an old man. It's a ridiculous thing to see as it seems to throw out the
balance of what is otherwise another straight by-the-numbers romantic drama. Who knows what's
going on. Maybe it's not enough to sport a rimmed-out Escalade any more. Maybe fat
grandmother drag is the new way to be hip in the ghetto. Gangstas just got
fruity!
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Another week another column
. Two for two, not bad going but I
gotta reach five before I have a new record. Wonder how our new competitor
is doing? At least we don't need a page full of
carefully selected sycophantia to validate ourselves. I'd like to think that, at least for
some people, the work we do speaks for itself and we don't need
to prove ourselves to you by showing you reams of ass-kissing soundbites instead. Seriously,
who cares if Harvey Weinstein likes us, we're here for you, not the
industry.
So last week was a disappointingly
controversy free Superbowl. No streakers, no wardrobe malfunctions, no
FCC-baiting adverts lampooning said wardrobe malfunctions. Infact no
reason for controversy whatsoever, unless you consider that Paul
McCartney was 26 years old when his current wife was born. Man, even the
game's result wasn't a shock. All we really had to keep us happy were the sweet
TV spots for some quality film action. Hell, what am I saying - I live in the UK
so I didn't even get them. If I wasn't a casual football fan I doubt I'd bother
with the whole affair at all next year. However, any ritual that encourages men
to gather in neanderthal groups to drink beer, eat chips and shout incoherently
at the widescreen TV can't be all bad. Keep your Desperate Housewives
, sport is still the best.
Batman Begins
In My Country
Downfall
The Interpreter
The Longest Yard
Diary of a Mad Black Woman