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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Blessed Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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Sadly, I have to agree with the majority of viewer comments so far. As
much as I enjoyed Blackadder and think that Ben Elton is an intelligent
and genuine human being with a good, if patchy, track record, for me
Blessed fails on all levels.

Primarily consisting of irritatingly smug middle class characters
delivering deeply obvious and unfunny lines in a stilted way that made
the performances in Ever Decreasing Circles seem like Lenny Bruce on
crack, perhaps the worst sections involved the occasionally hapless
depictions of musicians in a recording studio, which seemed to be based
on half-remembered episodes of Rock Follies.

In many ways, it’s sad to see someone who subverted and refreshed the
nature of sitcom in the 1980s produce such a dated, tired, clichéd and
hopelessly out of touch series. Constantly at odds with the way real
people live, speak and look, it appears that Elton’s art has turned
into everything The Young Ones seemed to be fighting against.

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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Fugitive, The Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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Fugitive, The
Little Fugitive (1953) Reviewed By Elaine Perrone Posted 03/27/05 03:33:15

"A little gem…and a landmark in independent filmmaking." (Awesome)

When photojournalist and maverick filmmaker Morris Engel died in New York on March 5, 2005, at the age of 86, his obituary in the Los Angeles Times included a tribute from François Truffaut. The legendary French auteur had once told the New Yorker magazine, “Our New Wave would never have come into being, if it hadn’t been for the young American, Morris Engel, who showed us the way to independent production with his fine movie, Little Fugitive.” Little Fugitive, and Engel, set a precedent for independent filmmaking in Hollywood, as well, influencing the work of John Cassavetes and, later, that of Jim Jarmusch and Quentin Tarentino.Engel teamed with his wife, photographer Ruth Orkin, and a friend, Ray Ashley, to co-produce, co-write, and co-direct Little Fugitive, which they completed on a miniscule budget of about $30,000. Using a lightweight hand-held 35mm camera, which a friend invented for him, Engel shot Little Fugitive entirely on the streets of Brooklyn and on Coney Island over a period of a few months. The film’s score is performed on a solo harmonica and the pipes of a calliope. Shot in black-and-white, Little Fugitive runs a total of 80 minutes and is almost dialogue-free. (What little dialogue there is – about 2,000 words – was post-synchronized in a studio.) Its two stars, and many of the supporting players, were inexperienced children from the neighborhood, for whom Little Fugitive is their only screen credit.After being turned down by every major U.S. distributor, Little Fugitive was finally picked up by a man named Joe Burstyn, a leading distributor of Italian films. Astonishingly – and deservedly – this small gem of cinematic pioneering went on to win the Venice Film Festival’s Silver Lion award. It also garnered an Oscar nomination for Best Screenplay, rather ironic in that the film’s true brilliance lies in Engel’s indelible images, Orkin’s fine editing, and the naturalness of the children’s performances. The story itself couldn’t possibly be slighter.The magical, often poignant, Little Fugitive centers on two brothers. At its heart is Joey Norton (Richie Andrusko), a husky, freckle-faced seven-year-old who loves horses and hanging out with his older brother, Lennie. Trouble is, twelve-year-old Lennie (Richard Brewster) and his friends consider Joey a major pain and spend their time trying to find ways to dodge him. Overhearing the older lads planning an excursion to Coney Island, Joey begs to be included but is rebuffed. When the boys’ mother is called away on a family emergency, she puts Lennie in charge of Joey, scuttling the Coney Island outing entirely. Miffed, the others concoct a cruel prank, featuring a rifle and a bottle of ketchup. Staging a shooting of Lennie, his buddies convince little Joey that he must run away, lest he “fry” for murdering his brother. With no destination in mind, the little boy boards a train, with only the $6.00 his mother has left behind for household expenses. The train’s last stop: Coney Island.Employing his small camera to photograph the boardwalk and beaches from spaces as confined as a merry-go-round and a batting cage, from underneath a pier and the top of the towering Parachute Jump, Engel’s Little Fugitive is a delightful chronicle of Joey’s Excellent Adventure, and an absorbing slice-of-life portrait of hundreds of thousands of people at leisure, with no clue whatsoever that they were being filmed.In the DVD’s commentary, Engel noted that he did not elicit performances from the children, but simply gave them minimal direction – more like suggestions – and allowed them to act upon their own natural instincts. In one scene, I gasped as Joey happily – and precariously – grabbed for the brass ring on a fast-moving carrousel. Other scenes caused great merriment as I watched the seven-year-old’s innate creativity with food: Absent-mindedly arranging peas on a dinner plate, spitting out a too-hot bite of hot dog and allowing it to cool between his small fingers before popping it back into his mouth, spitting seeds from a slice of watermelon wider than the span of his own shoulders, and blissfully digging in to a box of Cracker Jack while riding a mechanical horse.When his money runs out at the same time Joey discovers the pony rides, he is crestfallen – until he learns the concept of collecting deposit bottles and redeeming them for coins for a potentially endless number of rides. The scenes of Joey scouring the teeming beaches for empty bottles are among the most absorbing in their simplicity, depicting ordinary people (but for a few relatives, including Engel’s wife Ruth, in cameos) going about their business of sunbathing or playing in the sand, cuddling on towels, and crowding around drinking fountains. Engel even managed to capture through his lens an actual drowning that occurred while he was filming.Some of the film’s most beautiful images are those shot in silhouette late at night, or at daybreak when the boardwalk and beaches are empty and silent but for the sounds of birds and gently lapping waves.After Little Fugitive, Engel went on to release only two more feature films: Lovers and Lollipops (co-written and directed by Orkin, 1956), and Weddings and Babies (1958). Together, the collection is often referred to as The New York Trilogy. All three are available on video through Kino International, although, unfortunately, so far, only Little Fugitive has made the transfer to DVD. The DVD’s extras are the original theatrical trailer and a fascinating commentary by Engel.
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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Thank You for Smoking Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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Adapted from the novel by Christopher Buckley, son of political commentator/author William F. Buckley, Thank You for Smoking marks the feature-length debut of writer/director Jason Reitman, son of director Ivan Reitman.  The apple didn’t seem to fall too far from the tree in either case, as both the book and feature film are effective, inspired, funny and thoughtful, showing that the sons have learned much from the fathers – a theme that is very prevalent throughout the course of the story. At its core, Thank You for Smoking is a satire, poking fun at all angles of the debate.  The pro-tobacco lobby is shown in just as unfavorable a light as those politicians that have taken the anti-smoking mantle, while those that fall in between are challenged to think for themselves, all the while being manipulated by those same forces claiming they are doing no such thing.  The moral to the story is that there are no morals anymore, despite the fact that everyone uses morality to push forward their agenda.  The debate is spin vs. counter-spin, while the truth is ignored in favor of self-aggrandizement and political angling.  It’s not about right or wrong – it’s about who wins the argument that’s important. Aaron Eckhart (Suspect Zero, Paycheck) stars as tobacco lobbyist Nick Naylor, who regularly makes appearances on behalf of the tobacco industry to argue against the assertions made by the anti-smoking movement as to such things as nicotine’s addictive qualities and the detriment of smoking to one’s overall health.  Nick may be a success as a brilliant conniver, but his wife (now ex) had been fed up with his lies long ago, while his son Joey finds him to be an embarrassment.  However, during a little road trip, Joey (Bright, Birth) soon gets to see what his daddy does first-hand, as the tricks of the silver-tongued trade are revealed, a bold and ingenious strategy of winning the argument by convincing the American public to disregard years of documented research by challenging the weakest links and throwing up straw men to fight against.  It’s attack and defend, as Naylor tries to thwart a bill that would see a "Poison" label on every pack of cigarettes, while also trying to promote the "coolness" of smoking by making sure it is shown regularly in popular movies. Thank You for Smoking is a funny movie in a subversive way; it’s not a laugh-riot in the slightest, and in fact, you may rarely laugh out loud at all.  All the same, the amusement level is certainly high, featuring more than enough witticisms to quote from it during many a smoking argument in the future. 

At the same time, it’s also not really about smoking, at least not in its core themes.  What it’s really about is the art of argumentation, in this case, by a man who champions a cause that very few in their right mind would champion, which is, of course, the virtues of smoking.  Turning an argument on its ear, never backing down and using someone’s own words against him is what it’s all about, like a snake-oil salesman for the modern day.  Turn on the radio or television talk shows and you’ll find no end to the Nick Naylors of the world. If there’s anything one takes away from Thank You for Smoking, other than its obvious entertainment value, it’s that we, the general public, should always educate ourselves as to the truth on our own, not relying solely on spokespersons, politicians, pundits, or anyone else that claims to be an “expert” with only the power of persuasion on his side.  Whether smoking is right or wrong isn’t so much an issue as an example, a token argument if you will, of an debate that becomes a farce when handed over to those that have made a career at doing nothing but obfuscation and misdirection in order to walk away a winner from no-win discussions, without even having to study the subject at hand.

Lest I forget, the film is good beyond just the core themes.  Reitman’s direction is energetic and inventive, mixing in amusing musical cues and snippets to enhance the sensory humor in subtle but effective ways.  The casting is also excellent, especially from Aaron Eckhart as the conniving Naylor, who manages to retain his likeability despite doing and saying some despicable things for his own, and the corporate interest’s, profit — "moral felixibility" is his credo.  Reitman’s approach is a bit scattershot, but always interesting, filled with amusing asides and plot developments. Of course, I realize the irony of doing this review, which is little more than an argument in itself as to why Thank Your for Smoking is a good film.  I don’t claim to be right in my assessment, which is, of course, a matter of opinion.  However, like the film states, in its not-so-obvious way, if you ever want to truly know, you’ll just have to find out for yourself. 

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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Casanova Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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Not since Nicole Kidman followed the Camille-like dance hall entertainer of “Moulin Rouge!” with “The Hours,” in which she portrayed Virginia Woolf, no less, has a star attempted such a stretch with such success as Heath Ledger, who has gone from playing a taciturn, tormented gay cowboy in “Brokeback Mountain” to the title role of Disney’s scintillating “Casanova” (which opens Sunday), the tireless 18th century seducer of countless beautiful women. Like Kidman, Ledger is equally engaging and convincing in both roles, and adds further testament to the charisma and protean talent and versatility of a roster of young Australian actors, which includes most notably Russell Crowe, who have risen to Hollywood’s highest ranks. In essence, Lasse Hallström’s elegant, dizzying romantic comedy, written by various hands, suggests that life in Venice in the age of Casanova had become a full-time masquerade, in which sybaritic aristocrats are rarely what they seem. Nonstop intrigue and seduction amid the scheming and the ambitious pave the way for the film’s most amusing conceit: that the man who figures that the 10,000 pages of his manuscript equal the number of his sexual conquests is perhaps but myth and that he furthermore lost his heart to the one woman, the fiery proto-feminist Francesca (ravishing Sienna Miller), who did not automatically fall under his spell. ADVERTISEMENT Francesca is the daughter of the elegant, witty but impoverished widow Andrea Bruni (a scene-stealing Lena Olin), who insists that her daughter be married off to a wealthy Genoese lard merchant (Oliver Platt, wonderfully droll) whose business is echoed all too obviously by his vast rotundity. Spurned, vengeful lovers thicken the plot, which comes to a head with the arrival of Bishop Pucci (Jeremy Irons), a Vatican inquisitor all set to tackle heresy and licentiousness with great, purse-lipped zeal. Amid the baroque splendors of Venice, scheming and trickery escalate at a dizzying rate, and this effervescent film would burst like a soap bubble had Hallström not been able to maintain a lively pace and an irrepressible verve. Ironically, “Brokeback Mountain” and “Casanova,” so different in time, place, style and tone, actually connect on the important level of freedom of sexual expression. In the exhilarating “Casanova,” giddy shenanigans effectively set off the dangerous, darker impulses of human nature. ‘Casanova‘ MPAA rating: R for some sexual content Times guidelines: Adult themes and situations A Buena Vista Pictures release of a Touchstone Pictures presentation of a Mark Gordon Company-Hallström/Holleran production. Director Lasse Hallström, Producers Mark Gordon, Betsy Beers, Leslie Holleran. Executive producers Su Armstrong, Adam Merims, Gary Levinsohn. Cinematographer Oliver Stapleton. Editor Andrew Mondshein. Music Alexandre Desplat. Costumes Jenny Beavan. Production designer David Gropman. Art directors Alessandro Alberti, Dimitri Capuani, Massimo Pauletto. Set decorator Anna Pinnock. Running time: 1 hour, 52 minutes. Opens Sunday in selected theaters.
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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Coyote Ugly Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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If your idea of a film is Barbie doll girls in skin tight outfits dancing on a bar, then Coyote Ugly is a must-see for you. Sad to say it, but there’s more plot in your average rock video, of which Coyote Ugly never progresses far beyond. What’s most annoying is the wasted opportunity to deliver more, with first-time director David McNally (Kangaroo Jack) showing flashes of talent, and Piper Perabo (The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle, Slap Her She’s French) giving a decent performance despite the shallowness of the part.

The plot? HAHAHAHA!! Why bother with a plot when you have babes?! Well, that must have been said at the screenplay development stage for this film, because if there is a plot, it’s the typical dumb-ass Hollywood kind; a small-town girl goes to the big city to find stardom, but can’t get it through the normal avenues, finally getting it though compromising all of her values. In this case, Piper lands a job in a bar where the bartenders are all lookers who dance and prance for their all-male audience.

So much of this film makes no sense whatsoever that even trying to figure out any character’s motivation would prove a waste of time. Why would a bar become the most popular in town just because of tight clothes and sexy dancing when there are strip joints all over the city that show more? How does the owner of Coyote Ugly find the time or crew to pick up the place after each evening? How does the place even turn a profit when 95% of its patrons aren’t even drinking? Why would a lame rendition of "One Way or Another" by Perabo stop a barroom brawl? What could Piper possibly see in the Australian guy? How could such cheesy music be considered good by ANYBODY?!?

Two words answer all of these questions: Jerry Bruckheimer. Yes, my friends, it’s the producer I love to hate and Coyote Ugly ranks among his very worst productions — and that says volumes. There is absolutely no reason this film needed to be made, and unless you’re a teenage boy who can’t get his hands on some porn, there is even less reason to watch this putrid piece of abominable dreck. Coyote Ugly is strictly for those who think "Baywatch" was one of the finest TV shows of the 90s.

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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Perfect Stranger Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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There’s been a lot of agonized hand-wringing about the cost to society of the possible demise of newspapers, but one major negative consequence has been overlooked. What the heck are the movies going to do for careers for intrepid heroines if newspaper reporter is out of the running? True, Rowena Price (Halle Berry), ace investigative reporter for the mythical New York Courier and protagonist of “Perfect Stranger,” is not exactly Lois Lane material. She’s introduced using false pretenses to entrap a U.S. senator and then record him without his knowledge, activities that will not endear her to the Pulitzer board, but no matter. “God,” Rowena says triumphantly, “I love this job.” ADVERTISEMENT For this is the movies, after all, and making Rowena a reporter makes it easier for her to launch her own investigation of prime suspect Harrison Hill (Bruce Willis) when childhood friend Grace Clayton (Nicki Aycox) turns up brutally murdered. So much information to gather, so little time. As might be guessed by now, “Perfect Stranger” is a star vehicle — set in New York, the city that never sleeps, or even takes naps. It is an acceptable enough thriller, neither the worst you’ve seen nor the opposite. However, it’s also one of those films in which the question of why it was made is as much of a puzzle as who did the awful deed. By the time you figure these out, you no longer care. On the most basic level, this James Foley-directed film got the go-ahead because two bankable stars agreed to be in it. So watching it is kind of like viewing the visual echo of a business deal, or, more specifically, a merger between powerful corporations, each with its own assets and skill sets. Berry, for her part, gets to look great and dominate the picture, while Willis, who by this time can do these roles in his sleep, can likely be taken at his word when he says he signed on because of the working conditions: “Not a hard day at the office — go to work and flirt with Halle Berry.” Just as the film’s initial entrapped senator subplot plays out, Rowena runs into old pal Grace on a Manhattan subway platform. Seems Grace is in town to pursue the physical side of a liaison that began online with Harrison Hill. Yes, that Harrison Hill, the big-bucks advertising executive who is the master of all he surveys. So when Grace turns up dead the very next day, Rowena knows whom she wants to start investigating. In this mission she has the assistance of pal Miles Haley (Giovanni Ribisi), your standard demon Internet researcher whose computer can do everything except cook dinner and make the bed. Miles has a major crush on Rowena, to the point of telling her: “Can I say for the record, ‘Wow’?” when she looks especially good. And because he is played by Ribisi, who specializes in this, Miles also has something of a weirdo vibe. Miles uses his computer to get Rowena a temp job at Hill’s advertising agency, where the boss, not surprisingly, notices Our Girl and tries to put the moves on her even though he’s very much married. Unbeknownst to Hill, Rowena is also anonymously chatting with him online in the kind of conversation where she tells him her hair is “dirty blond” and he responds, “I like dirty.” That’s how they do things in New York. As written by Todd Komarnicki from a story by Jon Bokenkamp, “Perfect Stranger” offers lots of misdirection and closing twists as it plays with the notion of who’s playing whom for a fool. By the time everything falls into place, however, it doesn’t much matter. The best thrillers don’t just show up for the closing credits, they are involving all along the way. That’s where “Perfect Stranger” goes imperfectly wrong. kenneth.turan@latimes.com “Perfect Stranger.” MPAA rating: R for sexual content, nudity, some disturbing violent images and language. Running time: 1 hour, 49 minutes. In general release.
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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Frankenstein Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1994)

FILM REVIEW: FRANKENSTEIN;
A Brain on Ice, a Dead Toad and Voila!

DESPITE the chivalry of its title, “Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” will not strike anyone as chiefly Mary Shelley’s invention. Its principal architect is Kenneth Branagh, who does not hide his light under bushels, not even bushels of classic literary stature. In a dazzling display of hubris, Mr. Branagh takes on the godlike, idealistic young scientist’s role while also directing this “Frankenstein” as an overheated romantic fable. For a film of such lavishness and chaotic sprawl, creating-a-monster quips are obvious but inevitable.

“Frankenstein” is a cogent reminder that Mr. Branagh’s reputation as a film maker rests primarily on seductive popularizations of Shakespeare (”Henry V” and especially the star-studded, visually glamorous “Much Ado About Nothing”). An extravagant entertainer, Mr. Branagh has a flair for capturing the mass appeal of familiar texts, so “Frankenstein” sounds reasonably well suited to his talents. But this material is easily caricatured and dauntingly overexposed. The monstrousness of “Frankenstein” extends to nearly 30 other films, not to mention a permanent place in the pantheon of Halloween masks and pop-cultural archetypes.

Unlike Francis Ford Coppola, who is a producer of this film and whose homage to “Dracula” was a more stylish, rapturous undertaking, Mr. Branagh is in over his head. He displays neither the technical finesse to handle a big, visually ambitious film nor the insight to develop a stirring new version of this story. Instead, this is a bland, no-fault “Frankenstein” for the 90’s, short on villainy but loaded with the tragically misunderstood. Even the Creature (Robert De Niro), an esthetically challenged loner with a father who rejected him, would make a dandy guest on any daytime television talk show.

Since the linchpin of “Frankenstein” is a fascination with the moral ramifications of science, this story should be even more relevant today than it was in 1818. Remarkably sophisticated despite its author’s tender age (she wrote it at 19), the book envisioned Dr. Frankenstein as “the modern Prometheus” as he harnessed technology to create life.

Today’s astounding medical advances even fulfill some of Mary Shelley’s implicit prophecies, but Mr. Branagh never addresses that, preferring to keep his film exaggeratedly quaint.

Despite an immense laboratory that could be run only by a large team of special-effects experts, this Dr. Frankenstein’s methods are primitive: a brain on ice, some amniotic fluid, a reanimated dead toad and off we go.

Mr. Branagh has said that he intended to make “less a horror film than a larger-than-life Gothic fairy tale.” So his “Frankenstein” achieves a quieter version of Ken Russell’s pop grandiosity, with little Victor Frankenstein growing up in a house that pointedly resembles a stage set. Victor’s story is told in flashback, beginning in the movie-studio version of an Arctic wasteland, where the adult, ruined Victor (Mr. Branagh) tells his life story to a ship’s captain (Aidan Quinn). To hear Mr. Branagh declare “I am . . . Vic-tor Frank-en-stein!” is to sense the troubled waters ahead.

The story moves deliriously past a boyish Victor, who is dressed like a boyish Mozart (the year is 1773), to the youth who becomes heartbroken when his mother dies in childbirth. Mr. Branagh, who is much too mature for his role as a young student, stages the mother’s demise with a gory realism that underscores the importance of birth in Frankenstein lore. It’s turning out to be a great season for “I Love Lucy” reruns among viewers who don’t enjoy gruesome special effects on screen.

Vowing to vanquish death, Victor also falls in love with Elizabeth, his adopted sister (Helena Bonham Carter), whose beauty is underscored by the camera’s habit of spinning ecstatically around her whenever it sees her. Ms. Carter, usually a model of intelligent composure, is all atwitter here, as is everything else about “Frankenstein.” The film’s style isn’t consistent in its exaggerations, but much of it has a frantic, breathless energy that seems to come from nowhere.

Amid the harpsichord interludes and glycerine tears that mark Victor and Elizabeth’s romance, the film also makes medical progress. A long-haired, humorless, unrecognizable John Cleese plays the professor with whom Victor boldly discusses the alchemist Paracelsus, and whose brain Victor winds up borrowing for research purposes. The rest of the “appropriate raw materials” — that is to say, the body — come from the thief played by Mr. De Niro, who winds up with his head shaved and rows of stitches circling his face and cranium. The effect is that of post-blood bath Travis Bickle crossed with a baseball, but Mr. De Niro still manages to convey remarkable pathos and dignity.

The screenplay, by Steph Lady and Frank Darabont (he is the writer and director of “The Shawshank Redemption”), envisions a talkative and even scoldy Creature. “Did you ever consider the consequences of your actions?” he reproachfully asks his creator. Though the film’s sympathies for the Creature disappear by the time he rips somebody’s heart out, he is largely seen as a victim of forces beyond his control. That conception is compassionate, but it won’t surprise or scare anyone.

Mr. De Niro’s appearance is transfixingly bizarre, aided by astonishing makeup effects and the actor’s own physical transformation into a grieving, lumbering outsider. Also impressive, in a similarly ostentatious way, is the laboratory sequence leading up to the Creature’s birth, during which Mr. Branagh doffs his shirt to get into the nativity spirit. Freed of the demands of a precious, unconvincing love story, the film here tastes some of the terrifying exhilaration with which “Frankenstein” is usually associated. Ms. Carter’s best and most ghastly scene is in a similar, horrific vein.

Also in “Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” are Ian Holm as the senior Frankenstein and Tom Hulce, breaking the film’s potboiling mood with occasional comic relief as Victor’s friend and fellow student. Mr. Branagh, who rarely disappears into a role without signaling the fact that he is doing so, fades before Mr. De Niro but overshadows most of the other actors with whom he shares the screen.

“Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It includes graphic gore, a brief sexual episode and many medicine-minded scenes that may disturb squeamish viewers.

MARY SHELLEY’S FRANKENSTEIN
Directed by Kenneth Branagh; written by Steph Lady and Frank Darabont, based on the novel by Mary Shelley; director of photography, Roger Pratt; edited by Andrew Marcus; music by Patrick Doyle; production designer, Tim Harvey; produced by Francis Ford Coppola, James V. Hart and John Veitch; released by TriStar Pictures. Running time: 128 minutes. This film is rated R.
WITH: Robert De Niro (Creature), Kenneth Branagh (Victor), Tom Hulce (Henry), Helena Bonham Carter (Elizabeth), Aidan Quinn (Walton), Ian Holm (Victor’s Father) and John Cleese (Professor Waldman).

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Cry_Wolf Reviewed By Todd LaPlace Posted 02/26/07 10:19:51

"Let the wolf have it." (Total Crap)

I’ve got something I need to say to you, “Cry_Wolf.” I know you think you’re all cool with that little underscore in your title, like you’re somehow hip or “down” with the teens. But you’re not. You’re actually kinda lame and no one is going to fall for your schtick. Now, not only are you a gutless little horror cliché, but you’re one that was outdated about five minutes after your release.I honestly wanted to get into Jeff Wadlow’s “Cry_Wolf,” a teen slasher flick that had the potential to be an allegorical slam on modern technology. But more than anything, I was merely distracted by the killer getting the instant message screen name Wolf. How anyone could get such a simple, pure name is beyond me. Unless you misspell some words or attach four random numbers, you’re not getting the name you want. I know that’s not really the point, but when your target audience is so completely familiar with a key element of your plot, you’re destined to be in trouble. This kind of small detail is ultimately going to kill the picture.Not that there was something overly great to kill anyway. Owen (Julian Morris) is a predictably sweet British troublemaker that falls in with the bored rich kid crowd, largely because of his crush on Dodger (the talented Lindy Booth). At a private high school in Virginia, I guess I shouldn’t expect this group to be terribly diverse, but they represent the dictionary definition of cliché. There’s the boring hunky white guy (“Gilmore Girls’” Jared Padalecki); the boring rebel (Jesse Janzen); the boring slut (Sandra McCoy); the boring token black guy (Paul James); the boring overweight outcast (Ethan Cohn); and the boring crafty Asian girl (Kristy Wu). I think I’m falling asleep just talking about them again. Not even Jon Bon Jovi (are the kids still listening to “Livin’ on a Prayer”?) as a shady journalism teacher can infuse this dud with any life.Bored with their strict school (sensing the film’s best descriptive word?), the clique decides to take their lying game to the next level. Sparked by the murder of a local town girl, they invent a serial killer, an orange ski mask-wearing, knife-wielding maniac named The Wolf. To pull off the sadistic punk’d on their school, they have Owen forward an e-mail to the entire student body through a master list he shouldn’t have access to. There is something mildly inventive in how they use cell phones, e-mail and instant messaging to spread their brand of mayhem, but it never goes farther than a surface coolness. So many old horror movies are really thinly-veiled covers for discussions of social issues (commercialism in “Dawn of the Dead,” teenage vice in any ’80s slasher), and it seems like this one could do the same for the abundance of pointless technology that dominates American life, but as the killer starts IMing Owen, the movie just turns into another entry in the gutless PG-13 horror genre.Being a 2005 horror movie, there is obviously going to be a twist ending, and in a complete shock, this one doesn’t disappoint. I’m not sure if I was too bored to see it coming or if it’s honestly crazy-inventive, but indeed I was pleasantly surprised. Of course, you do have to suspend your reason a bit, especially when the epilogue twists things even further, and by that point, it’s the case of too little, too late. If co-writers Beau Bauman and Wadlow could have put a little more time into developing the meat of their script — and upped the rating ante to R with a little more sex and gore — and not just stopped with twist , we’d have something a little more salvageable than this forgettable, immensely boring disappointment.One of the film’s taglines — “Nobody believes a liar…even when he’s telling the truth” — is derived from the original fable by Aesop. But I believe it would have been more appropriate to crib from “The Fox and the Grapes.” “It’s easy to despise what you cannot get.” Therefore, “Cry_Wolf” must really hate positive reviews.
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Say what you like, think what you will, scoff if you have to (and you will definitely have to), but in the final analysis Kevin Knows Westerns. Returning to the genre that won him Academy Awards for best director and best picture with 1990’s “Dances With Wolves,” actor-director Kevin Costner once again directs and stars in a western, one that is both potent and problematical. It’s a film that is as focused and intense with action and setting as it is ungainly with emotion, that showcases Costner’s Oscar-winning virtues as well as the unavoidable flaws that overwhelmed lesser films such as that misbegotten epic “The Postman.” ADVERTISEMENT Co-starring Robert Duvall and Annette Bening in a story of free-range cowboys matched against the dark forces of cow town tyranny and repression, “Open Range” exudes a strong sense of the mythical West, the wide-open spaces (beautifully shot in Alberta, Canada, by James Muro) where men have to do what men have to do and there are no lack of “things that gnaw at a man, things that are worth dying for.” Though it’s the feature debut of writer Craig Storper (who based his script on Lauran Paine’s novel “The Open Range Men”), “Open Range” is peopled exclusively by characters who will look like family to anyone conversant with venerable movie types. No one says or does anything unfamiliar or unexpected, but Costner and friends have invested so much belief in these hoary conventions that, to a point at least, it is pleasant to be in their company. In this “Open Range” is helped by strong acting, especially among the principals. Duvall perfectly fits the role of cantankerous Boss Spearman, of whom it is said, “Old Boss sure can cowboy, can’t he?” while Costner is effective as Charley Waite, someone with A Mysterious Past that does not involve quilting or putting up preserves. As for Bening, she brings an essential humanity and believability to the kind of woman who, Boss says, “makes a man want to set down roots.” Yes, they really do say things like that in “Open Range,” a whole lot of them, for this is a film whose characters all talk like they’ve watched way too many Saturday matinee westerns. For all I know, people really did say things like “let’s rustle up some grub,” but by this point in time dialogue like that can’t help sounding formulaic and clichéd. If a line or sentiment can be hit on the head and hammered home, consider it done, so much so that you half expect the boys to break into a heartfelt chorus of “Don’t Fence Me In.” That quality points up another problem with “Open Range,” and that is its tendency to frankly worship Boss and Charlie, to treat them like Shakespearean kings in disguise or at the very least mud-splattered Round Table knights intent on passing on sacred wisdom like, “a man’s trust is a valuable thing. You don’t want to lose it for a hand of cards.” While it’s central to the film to make these men heroes who live by a vanishing cowboy code, “Open Range” is too conscious of the revered status of its protagonists to be completely creditable. While all this makes “Open Range” sound all but unwatchable, the paradox of this film is that once its story manages to get moving, these problems matter less and less, and once the taut action of its inevitable climactic gun battle kicks in, they matter hardly at all. The rush of events combines with the acting and the sense of place to propel and validate Costner’s efforts to a surprising extent. On the trail together for nearly 10 years, driving cattle on a gloriously unfenced range, Boss and Charlie and their sidekick Mose (Abraham Benrubi) are breaking in a fourth member of the team, the young and rowdy Button (”Y Tu Mama Tambien’s” Diego Luna). Circumstances conspire to force these men into the closest town, the inaccurately named Harmonville. With stores selling “Fencing and Barbed Wire” and the Michael Kamen soundtrack getting increasingly sinister, it’s no wonder that Boss says, “I don’t much like this place.” He doesn’t know the half of it. Turns out the town’s unsavory sheriff (James Russo) is under the thumb of a savage cattle baron named Denton Baxter (the excellent Michael Gambon), the owner of (you guessed it) “the biggest spread ’round these parts.” A sworn enemy of free grazing, he didn’t come all the way from Scotland to give away feeding rights to random drifters waltzing onto his range. Harmonville, not surprisingly, chafes under Baxter’s iron rule, but the town is too helpless and frightened to do anything about it, and that includes the comely Sue Barlow, who works as a nurse assisting her doctor brother. But when push comes to shove — and you know it will — Boss and Charlie are no turn-the-other-cheek pantywaists. If enforcing the Code of the West in 1882 means taking the law into their own hands, so be it. The closer that final battle gets, the emergence of Charlie as a man wise in the ways of killing becomes more pronounced and compelling. Though his choice of roles has not always been wise, Costner is very much a movie star, and his reversion to an “Unforgiven” dark side is in many ways more believable than his fumbling courtship of the forthright Ms. Barlow. With its echoes of everything from “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral” to “High Noon,” “Open Range’s” showdown is powerful stuff, smartly choreographed by Costner and production designer Gae Buckley and crisply edited by Michael J. Duthie and Miklos Wright. Unapologetically violent but not overpoweringly so, and put together with an energy that drives thought from your mind, it gets closest to the mythic level the entire film is striving for. For though it seems to have designs on being realistic, “Open Range’s” greatest strength is as a piece of western romance concocted for a willing, even desperate, audience. It’s the myth we’re after, after all, and this ode to a West everyone knows but may never have existed gives it to us straight up, no chaser. ‘Open Range‘ MPAA rating: R, for violence Times guidelines: Violence is intense but not excessively gory Robert Duvall … Boss Spearman Kevin Costner … Charley Waite Annette Bening … Sue Barlow Michael Gambon … Denton Baxter Michael Jeter … Percy Diego Luna … Button James Russo … Sheriff Poole Abraham Benrubi … Mose A Tig production, in association with Cobalt Media Group, released by Touchstone Pictures. Director Kevin Costner. Producers David Valdes, Kevin Costner, Jake Eberts. Executive producers Armyan Bernstein, Craig Storper. Screenplay Craig Storper, based on the novel “The Open Range Men” by Lauran Paine. Cinematographer James Muro. Editors Michael J. Duthie, Miklos Wright. Costumes John Bloomfield. Music Michael Kamen. Production design Gae Buckley. Art director Gary Myers. Set decorator Mary-Lou Storey. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes. In general release.
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DOWNLOAD MOVIE Dinosaur Just $2.99 for a complete movie! No additional software or browser plug-ins required! You can play them for unlimited number of times whenever you want. Downloaded movies will work perfectly on any PC, DVD player, PDA etc.
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Dinosaur Reviewed By Slyder Posted 10/21/01 10:40:12

"Wow, and WTF?" (Average)

All right, whoever has seen this film knows now what can mainframe computers and the latest version of Visual Basic can do, and I applaud that. Dinosaur is another summer movie that goes on to prove what summer movies are for, to think that everything is possible, big loud, cool and fun. And unfortunately summer movies have the tendency to suck badly, and this one almost did, due to a few big holes and an almost bad storyline. But still it’s worth a casual viewDinosaur is the story of Aladar, an iguanodon that is separated from his mother before born and that gets to grow with a clan of Lemurs, and he grows, and his life is all of a sudden destroyed by a meteor crash, which he miraculously survives. So he and three surviving lemurs Zini, his “mother,” Plio and Yar, set off to survival and encounter a clan that heads for the nesting grounds, in command of some hard-ass iguanodon named Kron and his sister Neera, along the way they must avoid the Carnotaurs who can prey there and some other shitOk, the FX kicked ass, it kicked so much ass that it even forgot itself about a believable script. But also the FX has its own bad parts. The dinosaur models were cool, but they were not as realistic as I hoped. Hey I wanted to see a dinosaur movie not a fucking dragon-like beast of a movie. Most of the dinosaurs, like the Triceratops and the Tyrannosaurus are all overblown to hell. I mean, since when the fucking Tyrannosaurus had devil-like horns and lots of spikes in his back? And they call them Carnotaurs? And they have more than two fingers in each hand? Sure, the Allrosaurus is like it, but it’s not as big as the film portrays it. The designs suggest even more a Tyrannosaurus, and in that I was disappointed and annoyed by the design of my favorite dinosaur. Oh, and since when the Triceratops has such fucked up horns like that? Ugh, many dinosaurs were portrayed inaccurately that I was watching more of a gay fantasia flick than a dinosaur flick. Other than that the FX were awesome, and my favorite scene of all was the meteor scene, that FX was very, very well made, and I applaud the FX guys for such a cool scene, which leads us now towards the not so applauded plot.The plot is more like something straight out of an Indiana Jones movie, and unfortunately, since this is Disney it’s childish, but even more; it exaggerates its childishness up to the point of being annoying. The lemur mating scenes were pretty dumb and what spoiled the meteorite scene for me was that they survived by jumping into the water. Unless you’re an ignorant person, the meteor when it hits, not only sends a path of destruction, it heats the water to its boiling point and even evaporates it. No way those guys could survive and seeing that they did just by jumping into the water has to be the lamest idea out of a plothole since the laughable rebellion plans of Battlefield Earth. Other parts of the script play around lots of foolishness and sexual innuendo (yes, those Disney perverts) that furthermore makes you wonder if the Disney guys that wrote this wrote it with kids and adolescents in mind, and I was there wondering too that the only thing we needed was to show us a dinosaur fucking another dinosaur. Thank God that never happened. The rest of the script was all right, it had some good messages too, and I liked that. But the point was that this film needed a lot of rework plotwise, because the script was pretty much bad enough to annoy kids and alienate them with nonsensical bullshit. Sure, the FX were cool, so were the ones in ID4. Substance we need substance.In the end, yeah, I somehow recommend to watch this film but only to watch it for the FX, just take a deep breath and try to awe at the FX for the entire 82 minutes this film lasts, and try not to worry about the plot so much. It’s hard, but despite flaws it’s pretty much worth it. (2.5-5)
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