When I saw the New Moon trailer and the fan reaction, I couldn’t help but laugh. These are some pretty excited fans:
Last week I wrote about My Own Private Idaho, a weird but wonderful work of art by writer/director Gus Van Sant. If the idea of a partial adaptation of a Shakespearean history through the lens of gay street hustlers doesn't convince you that Van Sant has a love for high-concept, try these on for size: A shot-by-shot remake of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho; a queasy and deeply disturbing fictionalization of the Columbine Massacre; an all-but-in-name bio-pic of the last two days of Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain's life. It's that last one I want to talk about in this entry, 2005's Last Days.
It's been a long time coming. The disaster film to end all disaster films. It's coming to a theater near you November 13, 2009
2012: The Movie
There are many reasons why I love disaster movies. Usually they're extremely cheesy, the tend to freak me out, and it's just fun to ponder what life would be like if there was a cataclysmic event none of us were prepared for. Hence 2012, the movie.
Whenever themes relevant to a particular minority group are explored in art, there's the danger of that art being labeled a "For Us, By Us" endeavor. Such is the issue surrounding New Queer Cinema. Though much of it is designed to shock the straight majority and ultimately to politicize the films themselves, some of the finest works from the movement aren't really intended as agit-prop. Such is the case with Gus Van Sant's 1991 (minor) masterpiece, My Own Private Idaho.
(Warning—if you have not read the books or seen the films, you may want to avoid the rest of this commentary as it contains “spoilers.”)
Then came a bunch of more fun flicks—City of Angels, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, The Family Man… none were as edgy and awesome as Con Air, but they were at least enjoyable. (Remember the look on his face in Angels when Meg Ryan says, “No dying today, Mr. Messenger—not until you give me Seth’s phone number”? Priceless!) The first National Treasure flick wasn’t too bad, either.
Beginning in the early 1990's there was a wave of LGBT-themed movies making their way through the festival circuits and small theaters of the already exploding independent film scene. Mixing high camp with biting satire, the New Queer Cinema movement paved the way to making non-heteronormative topics a part of the mainstream. It's only been in the past few years that high-profile entertainment has approached queer themes with any seriousness. Still, for every Brokeback Mountain there are at least a few I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry's. Toward the end of first major New Queer Cinema rush, screenwriter Brian Wayne Peterson and director Jamie Babbit collaborated of a small but intriguing comedy called But I'm A Cheerleader.
I used to watch Transformers when I was a kid and one of the standard plot lines was as follows: the Decepticons try to find sources of Energon and the Autobots try to stop them. It's a pretty simple formula. Bad guys want to find something, good guys must stop them, or else. I didn't care about the dynamic between the characters. I didn't care about plot subtleties. I didn't care about anything but robots that transformed into various objects and the chaos that ensued when the two warring factions met in battle.
If I could forsee how horrible Knowing, starring Nicholas Cage, was, i wouldn't have watched it. However, once I started watching it, I desperately wanted to see how the movie was going to play out, even though I knew it wasn't able to redeem itself.
The movie starts out in the year 1959. A creepy, obvioulsy disturbed girl is given the task of drawing a picture for a time capsule to be opened in 50 years. As all the other children gleefully get out their crayolas, the little disturbed girl, Lucinda, starts madly writing numers. As the time capsule is burried, she vanishes, and then is found blodied due to her continued writing of the numbers... in the walls...with her fingertips.
appreciation of sports, if for nothing else as a premise to his most recent films, has taken the actor through stints as a race car driver, figure skater and basketball player. With his frame – husyk, perhaps – it isn’t hard to imagine the comedian possessing some athletic ability. But even if he had none, Ferrell’s done a pretty good job manipulating his physicality to better fit each of these disparate roles. And while Semi Pro met with mixed reviews upon its release, pretty much everything about the film comes off better than Blades of Glory – well, apart from the costumes at least.