Alas! how dreary would be the world if America were not exceptional. It would be as dreary as if there were no Washingtons. There would be no torch of liberty, no shining city on a hill, no Channing Tatum.
When almost everyone who decides which movies get made are men, and men are the ones writing and directing all of the stories, even stories supposedly about women, we women lose sight of what it looks, feels and sounds like to have our stories told from our perspective.
Of course, since this is a Wachowski offering, the visuals are frequently stunning in an overwhelming manner, and scene after scene is quite entertaining. There is a problem, though, with the casting.
Unfortunately for the filmmakers, the audience, and (given the $175 mil price tag) the studio, Jupiter Ascending isn't exactly the second coming they were hoping for. Instead, it's a melange of misplaced ambition that's asphyxiated by tangled plot threads that are at once overcooked and undernourished.
There aren't many films from the past 15 years that bowled me over the way The Matrix did. Unfortunately, the Wachowskis -- Andy and Lana -- haven't come close since then.
It's a cliché of the season to list award favorites, but it is also a thrill to be able to recommend so many good films.
If I were going to make a 10-best list, it would probably include films like Boyhood, The Imitation Game and Selma, among others that will be on everyone's list. But, as good as those films are, none of them are on my list of favorites.
There is an eerie vibe about the movie "Foxcatcher" from its first moments to its last. It is hard to pinpoint what it is but the sterile bleakness of the opening scenes sets a tone that stays with the movie and the main three characters who inhabit this story.
When Los Angeles-based TV producer Michael Levitt isn't creating hit shows, he's driving all over greater L.A. rescuing dogs from kill shelters and placing them in loving "forever" homes. Now taking his passion one giant leap further, Levitt has created a groundbreaking TV event.
When I saw Bennett Miller's Foxcatcher at the Toronto Film Festival in September, I wrote that "Miller, in my estimation, has jumped into the class ...
Some persons apparently see conversation in geometric patterns or concepts in numerical forms. Color reflecting music or ideas is perhaps the most frequently described form of synesthesia, a phenomena long recognized but only more recently rediscovered.
If I were going to generalize about this year's Toronto International Film Festival based on the films I saw Monday, I'd tell you that it's a great year for dramatic films based on true stories.
We've all seen it happen: A popular film feels pressured to produce a sequel. This pressure to produce a script results in inevitable failure. I mean, who hasn't said, at one point or another, that sequels are never as good? That being said, 22 Jump Street has broken the mold.
In 22 Jump Street, how cool would it have been for Channing Tatum to fall for the female equivalent of Jonah Hill: a normal-looking women with smarts, wit and kindness? How powerful would that message be for girls who don't look like a model, but who do have a lot to offer in relationships?
After I saw 22 Jump Street, I noted publicly that, while it was funnier than 21 Jump Street, so was my root canal. (Although the latter did include laughing gas.) Still, the bar wasn't particularly high.
The filmmakers are obviously acutely aware of what a minefield it can be when attempting to sequelize a successful comedy (helpfully lampshaded via a very funny prologue with the returning Nick Offerman), so they seem intent on playing with those tropes.