A different, more “traditional” (in the sense that Naked Killer’s gleeful man-maimers are a tad atypical) kind of serial killer prowls the streets of Roberto Benigni’s drop-dead comedy The Monster. This film’s mass slayer preys on women; the movie opens with a shot of elevator doors slowly opening and closing…
There’s no getting around comparing the lurid Hong Kong lesbian assassin flick Naked Killer with Russ Meyer’s Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill! Like Meyer’s cult classic, this over-the-top romp from the busy workshop of prolific filmmaker Wong Jing details the deadly shenanigans of a handful of lusty, bloodthirsty felines (two of…
Know anybody in L.A. who could use a 1988 Nissan Sentra? Filmmaker Matthew Harrison needs to unload his this week, when he returns to New York City after a year in Lotus Land. New York native Harrison moved to the West Coast shortly after his remarkably accomplished low-budget feature Rhythm…
How sorry can you feel for an attractive, intelligent young woman who earned upwards of six million dollars per year by willfully engaging in an ongoing criminal enterprise and arrogantly thumbing her nose at the law until undercover cops busted her? Not very, especially considering that the woman didn’t need…
Reviews of each new Pedro Almod centsvar film seem to fall into one of two categories: (1) He’s back! [NEW FILM NAME HERE] is his funniest movie since Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown! (2) He’s lost it! [NEW FILM NAME HERE] is nothing like Women on the…
Director Franco Zeffirelli reminds me of George Foreman. Like the larger-than-life boxer, Zeffirelli is a one-dimensional slugger. They both hit hard but telegraph their punches; put either man into the ring with powerful, straight-ahead material (Joe Frazier in Foreman’s case, operas such as Rigoletto or Don Giovanni in Zeffirelli’s) and…
As anyone who reads this column with regularity knows, I make it a point to boycott that annual orgy of industry politics and self-congratulatory ass kissing known as the Academy Awards. On Monday night, March 25, it seemed as if everybody I know A not to mention most of the…
In Flirting With Disaster, writer-director David O. Russell continues to tap into the fertile subject of family to create his edgy comedies. In his first film, 1994’s acid-washed Spanking the Monkey, Russell fashioned a sensitive, understated black comedy out of his nineteen-year-old male protagonist’s confusion over sexual politics, masturbation, and…
If men such as Guy Baran didn’t exist, neither would books about smart women and foolish choices. Strong, handsome, intelligent, and confident, Guy attracts a lot of interest from members of the opposite sex who do not realize that his impeccable faaade masks a cruel, arrogant, manipulative liar. Mia and…
Maybe Spike Lee figured, “I made a great movie [last year’s Clockers] about a serious subject [crack and violence and their impact on ghetto life]. The film got excellent reviews, but nobody saw it. Maybe if I make a frivolous movie [Girl 6] about a titillating subject [phone sex] and…
Ever notice how you can never wager on really interesting propositions? For example, you could have made a fortune betting that Fernando Trueba’s Two Much would be a mess. If only some bookmaker had offered odds against the made-in-Miami movie’s success. All the ingredients for a flop were in place…
Mike Nichols’s The Birdcage has a lot in common with Two Much. Both contemporary comedies make extensive use of bustling Miami Beach as a location. Both stories center on characters who pretend to be somebody they aren’t. And neither Birdcage director Nichols nor Two Much star Melanie Griffith has enjoyed…
Fans of black comedy and fiendishly frisky film noir rejoice: The Coen brothers are back! The savagely funny Fargo is a vicious sidesplitter, easily the drollest, hippest, sweetest satire Joel and Ethan Coen have dreamed up since 1987’s Raising Arizona. The film marks a return to form for the sick…
A bottle rocket is little more than a glorified firecracker on a stick. You point one upward and light it, but you can never be sure that it’ll fly in the direction you want it to go. Sometimes bottle rockets just fizzle out. At best they sparkle, streak skyward, and…
Mutiny Aftershock 2005 (Black Arc/Rykodisc) Of all the spin-off satellites orbiting George Clinton’s Parliafunkadelicment mothership, Mutiny was arguably the best A and one of the few to distance itself from its former employer. The group was formed in the late Seventies by drummer Jerome “Bigfoot” Brailey, the coauthor of several…
At the risk of coming off like some stodgy codger bemoaning the passing of the good old days of American cinema, it really does seem to me that these days they don’t make quality American movies like they did in the Seventies. The Godfather (I and II), Five Easy Pieces,…
Belinda and Philip Haas’s (she produced; he directed; they both wrote the screenplay) slow but absorbing production of Angels & Insects reminded me of Peter Greenaway’s 1982 The Draughtsman’s Contract. Both films are English period pieces, although Greenaway’s film is set in the Seventeenth Century, while the Haases’ takes place…
Surely by now the cinematic love triangle has become one of France’s most enduring exports. Nobody plays more variations on the old three-part harmony than the French. Heck, most English-speaking countries don’t even have an equivalent for the phrase “menage a trois.” It’s kind of ironic then that while we…
Just as too many chefs spoil the broth, too many screenwriters spoil the script. In the case of the disappointing City Hall, a roster of four heavyweights — three from the world of movie writing and one from the world of high finance — contributes to a muddled screenplay that…
I have a confession to make: I haven’t watched the annual orgy of stupidity, vanity, and self-congratulation popularly known as the Academy Awards in years. The Oscars are a farce, an abomination, a laughingstock, a repugnant folly, an insult to the intelligence of any moviegoer with even a modicum of…
Like the world itself, world music can be a scary place. When you don’t know a djembe from a darbukah, when nothing ever sounds even remotely like “Hot Blooded,” it’s easy to give up and play Graceland again. As the curious titles of its pair of recent releases might hint,…
The dreaded date movie. Snotty critics such as myself hate the genre because real-life moviegoers tend to hold date movies to a different standard: “Did you like it?” “Well, there was no story, the jokes weren’t funny, and the characters talked like somebody lifted their dialogue straight out of Cosmo…
