Ridley Scott is no Cecil B. DeMille. That's not necessarily a bad thing. What it means is that Scott's new epic Exodus: Gods and Kings is as much a product of our high-tech new-millennium era as The Ten Commandments was of the Eisenhower gray-flannel suit period.
Usually when a film depicting a story from the Bible is made, the main danger for a studio is angering religious groups who feel that the film is attacking their beliefs or strays too far from accepted (or at least favored) interpretations.
Black people have been dehumanized and disregarded in America since its inception; and it is thus time for us to truly realize that this country is not "one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
The fundamental error most movie critics have made in their reviews of Baz Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby is the fact that they have critiqued the movie only against the so-called "great American novel" itself.
With a cast of largely baby-faced actors, Jay-Z as an executive producer, and a soundtrack weighted towards hip hop and electronic music, is The Great Gatsby more for younger fans of Luhrmann's more boisterous previous films like Moulin Rouge! and Romeo + Juliet?
The problems start with Nick Carraway, whose role as the book's narrator is justified on screen by placing him in a sanitarium -- the film's invention -- where he has been diagnosed as "morbidly alcoholic."
Before you meet the young boy with a curious accessory -- leaves growing from his ankles -- in the new movie from Disney, The Odd Life of Timothy Green, you think the message may have something to do with the environment.