Thursday, April 24 2003
Disheveled electric guitar strums and circling piano spar like late night drunks with no real fight left in them.
fairly standard, uninteresting stuff, all set to a relentlessly driving beat.
At once affectless and affecting, 'Raising Victor Vargas' is remarkably self-possessed for a first-time feature.
[It's] about tragedy, specifically, its purifying powers.
In its focus on these reunited '60s folkies, 'Wind' engages in that most virulent form of nostalgia: '60s-itis.
Memory is a tricky business. So are movies that mess with it.
Amanda Peet, not incidentally, throws some fine, even sublime, attitude.
It's not even Blair Witch II, which pretty much makes it the worst movie ever set in the woods.
Bill Paxton's banal banter and overacting alienate us, as we try to ignore him and focus on the live-action images of Titanic.
They meet at King's club, where he's auditioning strippers: Dustin Hoffman, big pimping.
To even things up, perhaps, or because he's bored, or because it's so easy, Ben cheats.
Wednesday, April 23 2003