Reviews

Even if viewed as a cartoonish interpretation of Westerns this picture splats to the lowest level of the genre. Preposterous plot and sluggish development of same (you can't make chicken salad out of chicken feed...), the direction seems mesmerized by Stone's undeniable good looks and Hackman's villainous mugging. Absent a convincing story line the plot resorts to endless shoot 'em-up sequences and a blown-to-smithereens ending that masquerades as a an inferno finale --notwhithstanding the fact that the explosion sequences alternate with shots that show little damage to the town's buildings and no casualties among the predictable melange of denizens. The sound track is absurd, climaxing at the end with Stone's steps along the dirt street resonating as if she were stomping on a granite floor, and the music, to put it kindly, mimics Ennio Morricone's early (and better) efforts. In sum: an eminently avoidable fiasco unless viewed as a tongue-in-cheek compendium of some of the worst clichés of non- spaghetti Westerns.

Spielberg's latest opus can be summarized in four words: "An American film masterpiece." From acting to directing to production values (lighting, wardrobe, locations, cinematography, makeup, etc. etc.), "Lincoln" is simply magnificent. Spielberg's steady hand and Kushner's eloquent handling of Doris Kearns Goodwin's book, kept my attention (and my companion's) riveted, from start to finish. In the realm of American movie-making this is one "for the ages." There's so much more that can be said for a production that redeems Hollywood, but in a year that has seen several excellent films, this one stands out, as tall as Lincoln's stovepipe hat. Additional words from my side would be superfluous.

The courage and gallantry of King George VI is a documented fact of history. And another fact of history will, surely, become the fact that this film is one of the finest dramatizations of a momentous period in the history of the West. Words will not do justice to this movie. It is one of ten best I've ever seen --a monumental showcase of script writing and acting. The star studded cast delivers throughout the film --there's an award-winning scene every minute, in lines spoken by Firth, Rush, Jacobi, Carter and Gambon, among others. There is not a superfluous word in the script --every line advances the plot and adds to character description. The close-ups are terrific as the actors transmit every nuance of their feelings in a description-defying performance that nails all possibilities in every scene. You have to see it it to believe it. Absolutely amazing.

By the time half of this very l-o-o-o-o-n-g bullets-and-blood saga has rolled by there has been so much violence depicted that the dozen or more graphically depicted additional killings lose most of their shock value. This movie should have been titled "Overkill." Also, it includes a tedious overuse of the f-word, now apparently Hollywood's go-to expression when the Muses fail script writers. Then, were one a Boston cop/detective/investigator one would have cause to be plenty miffed at having the police department portrayed, as done here, as being populated by a bunch of screaming bunglers who are badly in need of remedial investigation and surveillance skills. This movie is too long --by 2 1/2 hours. Better watch another "Law & Order" episode...

This is a whale of a missed opportunity to properly showcase the music scene of one of the world's most beautiful and alluring cities and its rich and deep cultural tapestry. It's a hasty, shallow and choppily-shot overview of the phenomenally diverse musical panorama of Istanbul. The brief presentation of tunes, songs and performers jump around and the visuals consist of jiggly, color-faded shots that shortchange the city, even if we take for granted the producer's intention to focus strictly on Beyoglu, the "Old Stamboul" district north of the Golden Horn. I guess we should be grateful that SOME Turkish music has been brought our way, but it's like getting an overview of American jazz and popular music by listening to micro-snippets --from King Oliver to the latest rap phenom. And the glorious city is given but a minimal chance to show off the sights and sounds that inspire so much of its music.

Kudos to Hollywood for its skill in stretching one very unoriginal joke into almost two hours of repetitive gags. So how many times are you going to laugh at a morning woody? Or yet another drunken driving sequence? Or a discussion about women's breats? There's about as much original humor here as in the warnings on a package of Trojans, not to mention an utter lack of erotic tension. Romany Malco displays great timing, Catherine Keener shines (as usual) but headliner Steve Carell sinks a notch or two from his excellent corporate jerk role in The Office. He displays a frozen, deer-in-the-headlights stare that becomes tedious after the first half hour or so. Maybe he has come to the realization that there's very little to laugh about in this overblown and blatantly commercial road to penetration --other than the gross-triggered guffaws of gags built around diverse bodily orifices and organs. 40 Year Old Virgin feels like watching the 30 Years War Plus 10 in real time --minus the action and gore.

Words fail to capture the power of this documentary-style re-enactment of the last days of Hitler and the coterie of criminals that made up the upper echelons of "The Thousand Year Reich." The performances are phenomenal and marked by a total lack of caricature --straightforward performances suffice to depict the insanity of Nazi criminocracy. The superb cinematography avoids gratuitous violence and gore. In short, this is a film that has to be seen to be believed about times that, unfortunately, cannot be forgotten.

Lead actor Bruno Ganz delivers a seamless interpretation of Hitler's last, deranged moments, as he swung from hysterics to introspection. The photography places the viewer alternately inside the dank and narrow confinements of the bomb-proof bunker in Berlin, and the devastated urban landscape of a once great capital... all metaphors for the illogic carnage delivered by Hitler and company.

A terrific, fast-paced screwball-like comic strip/drama/farce set against France's 1939 implosion. Played with wide-eyed, straight-faced intensity by a talented cast and chockablock with action, satire, social commentary and authentic period details, from slick brillantined hairdos and marcelled hairdos to a fleet of Citroen "Tractions," a rollicking soundtrack and brief but credible impersonations of Charles de Gaulle and Marshal Petain.

It's simply some of the best entertainment recently shown on screen, devoid of presumption and "message." If movies were trains (and there is a creative recreation of a trip on a steam-driven train that works despite there being no steam locomotive --an expensive prop, no doubt) this would be a TGV.

With this malformed cross between Unforgiven and High Noon, Kevin Costner delivers further evidence of his penchant for using reels and reels of otherwise good film to register much ado about nothing. Unimaginative (most scenes are shot at sunrise or sunset) and stretched to implausibility (in the romance -catch those plastic flowers through which Kevin Costner approaches Annette Bening at the end- and gun battle scenes), with DUH dialogue and predictable situations broadly hinted at by the by-the-numbers sound track, this is one Western that should be left out to pasture on the plains already well visited by one Mr. Eastwood in the aforementioned Unforgiven.

Against all odds, this slice of the lives of a Nigerian physician getting by in London as a hotel night porter - gypsy cab driver and a Turkish chambermaid works as smoothly as a high-end Swiss watch. It clips along at a tight, controlled pace with beautifully framed cinematography, clever dialogue and terrific interpretations by Ejiofor, Tautou, Lopez and Okonedo. A true delight that'll make you think "Bates Motel" next time you check into a hotel in London.

Talky, predictable and totally unimaginative, this is not what we've come to expect from French "cineastes." Admittedly a tongue-in-cheek replica of Hollywood romantic comedies of yesteryear it's more like a quickie TV movie or a self-indulgent Off-Broadway playlet. Binoche and Reno are utterly wasted as they talk, talk, talk their night away. The best that can be said is that it's a great commercial for Hilton Hotels, Air France and Aeroports de Paris, all of which, if they paid for the exposure, got their Euro's worth. Most moviegoers, on the other hand, are not going to feel the same way.

Michael Caine is outstanding as a British foreign corresponding whose placid assignment in Saigon is shaken as the U.S. intrudes both into his convenient life -epitomized by a compliant vietnamese mistress- and the waning days of French colonial rule. The casting is spot-on and the brooding character of Graham Greene's book is perfectly picked up in cinematography and soundtrack. Caine takes his career to a new level in this opus that is both an allegory about responsibility and a timely reminder for events unfolding as we write.

If you have an eye and ear for the foibles of human nature and corporate life in a "politically correct" environment, this well-paced sitcom will leave you chuckling and smiling. Director Veber does a great job at maintaining a steady pace and the superbly picked cast plays like a well-oiled machine. Depardieu shows again why he's one of the great all-around actors in any language (watch his finely nuanced facial expressions and body language) and Auteuil plays his role superbly, without a trace of camp or cant. Michelle Laroque reveals herself as a finely tuned comedienne. This is an unpretentious feel-good film, just as perfect for a summer evening as a crystal goblet filled with chilled sauvignon blanc. It focuses neatly on the French knack for finding humor without condescension in society's odd posturings --a lesson some of our ponderous directors might consider adopting.

A chain of sketches that portray a popular image of The Jazz Age in New York. Phenomenal cinematography, casting, choreography and a soundtrack that is a tribute to Ellington. Not a linear story but a series of steps (reproduced metaphorically in the explosive tap dancing of the Nicholas Brothers as portrayed by the Hines bros.) that build a staircase to nostalgia. Gets better with each viewing.

A splendid rendition of Greene's ongoing theme of love, guilt, duty and religion captured with class and delivered by a gifted cast. Jordan captures the atmosphere of blitz and post-blitz London and that of the period's "proper" English classes struggle between perceived duty (to God, country, mate)and experienced senses.