Reasonable facsimile accepted.
These are icons, not accessories in some Hot Topic cover version of "Teenage Lobotomy."
The moment we see Mel Gibson in his element, full of beans and blasting away at Kyle Ward's crazed dialogue, Machete Kills becomes the certified guilty pleasure it's spent the last 45 minutes trying to be.
Captain Phillips is so insular, so locked in the littleness of its narrative, that it never achieves the kind of heartbreak epiphany of the filmmaker's other fact based effort.
In the spirit of Rodney Ascher's recent documentary, here are two films that I find differing meanings in vs. the rest of the mainstream moviegoing public.
'Tis the season to be scared, and with that it mind, we offer a few of our vintage lists just in time for All Hallow's Eve. Up first, a look at some alternatives to the standard fright flick fare.
John Carpenter once called (Argento) his greatest influence. After this, he is surely his biggest disappointment.
While it may be more grounded in the truth of being the savior of the planet, Tony Stark's problems play very real indeed.
Thanks to his poetic approach and desire to evoke instead of explain, Moors makes Blue Caprice a sensational study in subtle psychopathology.
Runner Runner falls flat, and keeps getting up when it really should just stay down.