Tutti pazzi per l’oro è un film del 2008 della Warner Bros. Pictures su una coppia sposata che cerca di ravvivare la loro vita sentimentale, durante una ricerca di un tesoro perduto. Il film è stato diretto da Andy Tennant e riunisce le Come farsi lasciare in 10 giorni stelle Matthew McConaughey e Kate Hudson.

Leggi altre notizie su: | Andy Tennant | Matthew McConaugheym | Kate Hudson | Donald Sutherland

A smart and sexy romantic comedy with an action twist. Vince (Rossif Sutherland) is an ex-con on parole after five years in prison for a heist gone wrong. He wants to go straight, but his former boss and loan shark, the dangerously quirky Kranski (Donald Sutherland) reminds him in no uncertain terms that he has a big debt to pay and won’t be free until he pays it off.

Discouraged, Vince resumes his life of petty crime and works days in Kranski’s auto body shop. On the side, he continues with a hobby he developed while in jail – metal sculpture. After a night of furiously working out his frustration and rage with a welding torch and a pile of scrap metal, he collapses exhausted, just as super-hot art dealer Belinda (Rebecca Romijn) brings in her car for servicing. She takes one look at Vince’s sculpture and knows he’s the next big thing. She fully intends to cash in.

Belinda sells Vince’s sculpture for an outrageous price, and soon Vince is the talk of the art circuit. Everyone wants to meet him. Vince is uncomfortable with the attention, but figures he will be able to pay off Kranski sooner than expected. He starts to think about his future, a future that might include Belinda’s beautiful assistant, Kristen (Sarah Roemer), if he can get away from Belinda, who has her clutches into him deep.

And if that wasn’t enough, Kranski finds out about Vince’s new business and threatens him if Vince doesn’t share the spoils with Kranski and his boys. Fed up, Vince and Kristen concoct an elaborate scheme to put Kranski out of business for once and for all – if someone doesn’t get killed first.

Directed by Risa Bramon Garcia (200 Cigarettes).

Source: Collider

La ressortie, ce mercredi 25 novembre, de Klute est l’occasion de s’intéresser à ce film méconnu de la décennie considérée comme le dernier âge d’or, les années 70, comme de la filmographie de son réalisateur Alan J. Pakula. Il est vrai que cette œuvre accuse un déficit de considération comparé aux deux autres opus composant sa trilogie dite du complot, les grandioses À cause d’un assassinat et Les Hommes du Président, du fait de son rythme atypique et de sa rapide bifurcation d’une enquête policière classique vers un récit intimiste, la découverte du coupable important finalement moins que la construction identitaire de son héroïne, remarquable Jane Fonda.
Un notable d’une bourgade de Pennsylvanie, Tom Gruneman, disparaît inexplicablement. John Klute (Donald Sutherland), ami et détective privé mène l’enquête avec pour seuls indices les lettres obscènes que Gruneman aurait écrites à une call-girl de New-York, Bree Daniels (Jane Fonda). Klute se rend sur place, s’installe au rez-de-chaussée de l’immeuble de Daniels et enregistre ses conversations téléphoniques. Il prend finalement contact avec elle et noue une relation d’attirance/répulsion qui parasitera ses recherches de la vérité.

Klute vaut vraiment la peine d’être découvert car il expose tous les attributs et motifs des fictions paranoïaques à venir, et repris par Pakula lui-même, mais se restreint à des sphères dont les ramifications sont encore identifiables. En 1971, année de sortie du film, l’Amérique, si elle a été éclaboussée par le sang de Kennedy ne l’est pas encore par le scandale du Watergate qui éclatera un an plus tard en 1972. Traumatisée, elle n’a pas encore perdu confiance en ses institutions bien que quelques révélations sur la surveillance étroite des citoyens exercée par les agences gouvernementales (C.I.A, F.B.I) commencent à poindre dès le début des seventies. Klute se montre ainsi parfaitement raccord avec ce contexte et plutôt que de montrer des êtres se confronter aux conséquences d’une machination impossible à révéler au grand jour (comme l’expérimenteront Warren Beatty et le duo Redford/Hoffmann), échafaude un climat oppressant s’immisçant progressivement dans la vie de chacun. Cloisonnement de plus en plus insistant (cadres, surcadres, cloison du bureau de Cable se refermant) jusque dans l’appartement de Bree Daniels et qui confine à l’isolement malgré l’activité de la ville (nombreux espaces vides composant l’arrière plan), on dénote également d’importantes zones d’ombre (formidable travail sur la photographie de Gordon Willis) comme une multiplication de plans subjectifs insinuant une surveillance ou de plans à la durée inhabituellement longue augmentant l’expectative.

Klute, sans y faire clairement référence, est un film hanté par l’assassinat de Kennedy, Tom Gruneman, que l’on verra en tout début de métrage et assez furtivement lors du repas, joue ce rôle d’une présence fantomatique que l’on évoquera au détour de dialogues ou par l’entremise d’une photo souriante de son visage. Une absence qui agira sur la vie des protagonistes, ceux-ci cherchant aussi bien à mettre à jour le mystère l’entourant (est-il mort ? Si oui, tué par qui, pourquoi ?) qu’à s’en défaire pour recommencer à vivre.
Mais le film se montre vraiment intéressant dans sa peinture du personnage féminin principal, Bree Daniels, qui semble ne s’épanouir que dans la domination exercée sur la gent masculine. C’est elle qui mène les débats et les ébats. Pourtant, elle expose certaines faiblesses et états d’âme à sa psy, la call-girl ayant du mal à réfréner les désirs d’amour et d’équilibre de la femme. Tout son petit monde sera encore plus chamboulé par l’entrée en scène du détective John Klute qui sera plutôt un élément perturbateur que véritable héros du film, contrairement à ce que l’on pouvait attendre d’un titre reprenant son patronyme. Il incarnera l’autre versant de la masculinité, celle offrant sécurité et stabilité par opposition au maquereau interprété par Roy Sheider. Un personnage féminin à fort caractère dont les attitudes de défiance cachent une fragilité à fleur de peau. Pakula joue extrêmement bien avec les attentes qu’il aura suscitées, Klute a finalement du mal à imposer sa présence à l’écran (souvent littéralement dans l’ombre en train d’épier, transparent lorsque le réalisateur ne cadre que son reflet dans une vitre) et Bree Daniels se montre vraiment détonante alors qu’elle nous a été présentée de manière indifférenciée au milieu d’un casting de jeunes femmes (la caméra passe sans s’arrêter en gros plan sur son visage).

Enfin, Klute se révèle un grand film dans son utilisation de la bande-son. Une importance marquée d’emblée par le premier plan montrant un magnétophone que l’on actionne. Ainsi, les enregistrements des conversations de Bree seront autant de révélations factuelles sur ses méthodes de travail, sa manière de jouer face à son client, qu’elles sembleront illustrer les pensées de Cable, le commanditaire de Klute, en pleine réflexion ou introspection et seront utilisées pour provoquer l’effroi lorsque Bree entendra sa propre voix en décrochant le téléphone. De même les confessions faites à sa psy déborderont le cadre de son cabinet pour éclairer de manière contradictoire ce que les images de l’intimité du couple Klute/Daniels laissent entrevoir. Une intimité caractérisée par l’absence de paroles, les sentiments s’exprimant par les gestes, les regards, les postures. Les quelques mots proférés s’avèreront blessant ou générateurs de peur ou de tension. Les relations sincères sont donc celles où l’économie de mots prédomine puisque lorsqu’ils affluent (pendant des passes ou des entretiens avec la psy) c’est sous couvert d’une certaine somme d’argent. Un environnement sonore dont l’importance est redoublée par la musique de Michael Small dont les compositions ajoutent aux troubles de la relation et de l’ambiance paranoïaque.

Klute, sans être un chef-d’œuvre du genre est indéniablement à découvrir pour son portrait de femme dont la libération sexuelle et morale dérègle l’introversion imposée et puis parce qu’il détourne avec brio les codes du film noir et plus généralement du classicisme hollywoodien alors en vigueur (illustrant en cela ce que sera le Nouvel Hollywood). Alors que le film, à l’image de son héros désabusé, semble s’articuler sur la désillusion à l’œuvre, il s’achemine vers la possibilité de se reconstruire. Une éventualité contrecarrée quelques années plus tard par les deux authentiques chefs-d’œuvre de Pakula, À cause d’un assassinat et Les Hommes du Président.

Nicolas Zugasti

> Film repris en salles le 25 novembre 2009

> Lire aussi l’article consacré au “cinéma politique” et à la musique de Michael Small dans VERSUS n° 9.

Extrait de Klute en VOSTFR

SOUNDTRACK: KATE BUSH-Hounds of Love (1985).

I have a very specific memory of the first time I heard the song  “Hounds of Love.”  I was in high school and the Wilderness Adventure Club was heading towards whatever destination we were going to (funny I can’t remember the destination, but I recall the car trip there).  The head of the club (who was a teacher, but not one I had) was driving a bunch of us in his station wagon and this song came on.  My friend Brad and I howled with laughter at the “barking” that Kate does. “Roo Roo Roo Roo.”

It only occurred to me recently that the driver probably enjoyed the music or else he wouldn’t have had it on, so that wasn’t very nice of us.  It also occurs to me that he must have had the disc (actually the tape, as there were no discs then) because I don’t imagine the song was ever on the radio.  (Although I also think there may have been a DJ talking about the songs, so my memory is shaky).  I just remember laughing and laughing and quite likely Roo Rooing for much of the trip.

So, it’s funny now how much I love this disc (my high school self was a metal head, my college self expanded his musical mind rather a lot).

Kate’s previous two records were a wonderful precursor to this monumental disc.  The big hits come at the top: “Hounds of Love” is indeed an amazing song, as is “Running Up That Hill.”  But they’re familiar enough that I don’t have to say anything.  “The Big Sky” is a rollicking romp of fun.  And “Cloudbusting” is just simply amazing.  (Look for the video with Donald Sutherland!).  It’s five minutes of intense storytelling.

But for me, the second side of the album (starting with track 6 on the disc) is the real selling point.  It’s something of a story called The Ninth Wave.  And what I love about it (in addition to the awesome music) are the amazing effects and sounds and voices that are all over the tracks.

It begins simply with a delicate piece, “And Dream of Sheep,” a beautiful piano ballad.  It’s followed by the mesmerizing “Under Ice.”  The opening string sounds evoke someone skating on an ice (which is what the song is about).  As the tension grows (is someone under the ice?) voices far back in the distance compete with Kate singing “Its me!”

The next track, “Waking the Witch” begins with some awesome headphone voice work.  Voices from various family members implore her to wake up.  Left, right, middle, back.  Then, a voices asks “Can you not see that light over there?”  With a far off voice whispering “over here.”  When the song finally bursts forth, her voice is manipulated in a creepy disjointed way.  Followed by different musical sections with cathedral bells.  All through the track a male authority figure condemns the girl for being a witch.  And as the song ends (with a sample of the helicopter from Pink Floyd’s The Wall she is found guilty.  It’s quite intense.

The intensity slackens somewhat with the mellow “Watching Me Without You.”  But it builds again with the manic intensity of “The Jig of Life” a traditional jig with uilleann pipes in the background and Kate’s vocals over the top.  The song breaks into a very traditional sounding step dance seisiun until Kate starts whispering “I put this moment here” (more of that cool headphone stuff) and the song takes of again.

“Hello Earth” starts as a simple ballad reminiscent of “And Dream of Sheep” but it grows in intensity only to break for a choir passage.  It then returns to the intensity of Kate’s voice which fades and ends with Kate’s whispered:  “Tiefer, tiefer.  Irgendwo in der Tiefe.  Gibt es ein licht.” (Roughly: Deeper Deeper, Somewhere in the depths there is a light.)

The disc ends with “The Morning Fog” a respite from the intensity of the music and the contents.  It’s a light ballad (with amazing fretless bass work) that seems like it could have been used in a John Hughes film.  Especially for the “I tell my mother/father/loved ones/brother how much I love them” lyrics.

The Ninth Wave is one of my favorite suites to listen to.  It not only demands attention, it usually gets it.

Hounds of Love is, simply put, fantastic.

[READ: November 15, 2009] Gemini & The Transfiguration of Benno Blimpie

When I was a kid, watching cartoons on Channel 11, WPIX, there was a frequent, (in my memory it was incessant) commercial for a Broadway play.  And the only things I remember about the commercial were two snippets:  In the first, a young boy is gorging himself on food and his mother yells “TAKE HUMAN BITES!”  The second shows a woman who says “I’m  not hungry, I’ll just pick” who then grabs a handful of spaghetti from someone else’s plate.

This commercial was such a part of our culture, that my friends used to shout “TAKE HUMAN BITES” at each other all the time.  And yet, after all these years, I couldn’t remember what the play was.  So, out of curiosity, I did some searching to see if I could find this mysterious play (and, more importantly find the commercial).

So, thank you, internet, for helping me discover the play is Albert Innaurato’s Gemini.  No commercials have been forthcoming, sadly.

Well, I thought it would be fun to read this play and see if it was as funny as the commercial seemed.  Who could have guessed that the play would have turned out like this?

The play is set in a poor section of Philadelphia.  The cast is: Fran Geminiani, his son Francis, and his lady friend Lucille Pompi.  Their next door neighbors are Bunny Weinberger and her son Herschel.  The entire play is set in the yard that separates the two houses.  The two newcomers that set the play in motion are Randy & Judith Hastings.  They are brother and sister and go to Harvard with Francis.

Francis is a somewhat overweight, very insecure, very Italian kid.  Fran, his dad, is pretty close to an Italian working-class stereotype, with the pasta making and the boisterousness.  The basic plot is that Judith, a beautiful WASP, has fallen in love with Francis.  She and Randy hitchhike to Philly complete with camping gear.  They plan to sleep in Francis’ yard for a couple days (you know, crazy college kids).

Francis is very uncomfortable about their arrival.  He tells them that his dad is a Mafia guy and kills WASPs on sight.  (This freaks out Randy but not Judith, who is his intended target).  When that doesn’t work, he ultimately rebuffs her advances by telling her that he’s queer.  She doesn’t believe him after what they did at school before the summer started (and she is even more disbelieving when he reveals who he’s got a crush on).

The rest of the story, and arguably the real heart of the story, focuses on the interactions in the neighborhood.  Fran and Bunny have lived next to each other for many years.  Bunny is a loud, obnoxious Irish woman who married a Jew (there’s a lengthy monologue about that).  Her son Herschel is an overweight, asthmatic loser who she says is a genius, even though at 16 he rides a tricycle around the yard making trolley sounds, and collects Public Transportation paraphernalia.

Bunny is abusive to everyone, including her son (one stage direction states that she “beats the shit out of Herschel”).  She sings songs loudly on an out of tune piano and flirts aggressively with Fran and then Randy (a stage direction states that she grabs his crotch).  She is also due for a court date because she assaulted a woman who caught her (Bunny) in bed with the woman’s  husband (in the woman’s house).

The action of the play takes place over a 24 hour period.  In in that short span of time we are treated to attempted suicide, drug use, homosexuality, train schedules, and a near-crushing by a piano.  It’s quite a feat.

The story is pretty funny (although I must say that the commercial was much funnier than reading the lines in print).  But the strange thing about the play is that there are absolutely no likable characters (except maybe Randy, as he seems an innocent victim).  Fran and Bunny are loud and boorish.  Lucille is lazy.  Francis is insecure.  Herschel is an annoying hanger-on.  Even Judith gets into the mean-spirited act when Francis turns her down.

And yet, there is something starnegly endearing about the whole group of them.  And as a slice of life play, it’s very entertaining.  The characters are (despite the stereotypical ideas) well rounded and amusing.  And the scenes have the potential (when performed) to be over the top hilarious.  The play itself is only about 70 pages, and it’s a brisk read.  But as with most plays, I’m sure seeing it is better than reading it.

I just wish I could see the commercial again.  If anyone knows where it might be available, do pass it on!

The other play that comes with the book is The Transformation of Benno Blimpie. It’s only 30 pages (it’s a one act play).  If you thought the characters in Gemini were unpleasant, you have seen nothing yet.  The set-up of this play is that Benno, a very fat twenty-year old, has locked himself in a room and plans to eat himself to death.

The entirety of the play is Benno’s (biased) memory of events.  And the play is set up so that he never physically leaves his room, but he interacts with the other characters as if he were in the room with them.  (Which I’ll bet is a very cool device on stage).

Benno’s flashbacks concern his parents and his grandfather.  His father is a former athlete and is something of a non-entity in the house.  His mother is a mean, horrible woman who never fails to insult Benno about his weight or his complexion or about how miserable her life has been since she had him.  (Her very first scene is quite shocking!).  The only charterer who is at all nice to him is his grandfather.

And yet, as Benno flashes back, his grandfather becoming sexually involved with a 13 year-old Catholic school girl.  (She encourages him to do things to her, and tries to get money out of him).  And, when she turns him down when he tries to do “more” with her, he takes his frustrations out on Benno just like everyone else.

Benno basically went through life being mocked and abused by everyone.  His only joy was in art.  But the art he made wasn’t appreciated by anyone.  So his only love has also let him down.  His last recourse is to simply to eat himself to death.

This play is shocking on many levels.  And all of the characters are reprehensible.  I’m not even entirely sure that I would want to see it performed (it lacks even the grim humor of Gemini).

I didn’t know a thing about Innaurato, so I looked him up and discovered that Gemini ran on Broadway for 1,819 performances and earned him an Obie Award.  It was also made into the film Happy Birthday, Gemini. starring Madeline Kahn and Rita Moreno.  Benno Blimpie also earned him an Obie.  Wow.

While looking around I found some clips from the movie Happy Birthday, Gemini.  And I have to admit that watching the clips leads me to think that if done well, both of the plays would be quite funny despite how disturbing they are.  I also wonder, if I find these stories shocking now, how shocking they must have been in 1978!  Francis’ homosexuality is accepted without any dismay, as is the drug use (there’s some very funny sequences about the pot smoing).  Even Benno’s grandfather’s pedophilia is sort of dismissed (although I think that, awful as it sounds, pedophilia was seen as less horrible in the 70s…can that be right?  I mean the whole Jodie Foster/Taxi Driver thing.)

Anyhow, these plays are not for the weak-hearted.  And I wonder if a revival of Gemini would be viable now.  (Although, interestingly, there is now Gemini The Musical.  I can’t wait to see what that’s all about!  Actually, I want to hear the music!)

The two movie clips are shared below.  Madeline Kahn is Bunny and she is hilarious (although she is cast completely against what Bunny looks like in theplay).  And, I think Francis is also a good looking athletic guy in the movie, too  (Innaurato didn’t have anything to do with the movie).  The clips are quite funny.  Sadly neither one features my favorite lines.  The movie is available only on VHS as far as I can tell.

Here’s one of the pot smoking scenes:

This is the suicide scene:

En 1980, Robert Redford era ya una estrella consagrada. Descalzos por el parque, Dos hombres y un destino, El golpe, El gran Gatsby y Todos los hombres del presidente habían forjado una sólida carrera que le había convertido en uno de los intérpretes más deseados, tanto por productores/directores como por las masas, ascendido a los altares de galanes como Brando y Newman. A Redford, sin embargo, le faltaba algo: ponerse detrás de las cámaras. La excusa la encontró en una novela de Judith Guest que le recordó, por cómo se describían los problemas en el hogar, a su propia familia.

Los problemas que cuenta Ordinary people no son precisamente banales. La familia (papá, mamá y Conrad, hijo adolescente) vive marcada por una tragedia. Un hecho fatal (que no desvelaremos) en el que se vio involucrado Conrad; su sentimiento de culpa es tan abrumador que intentó suicidarse. Que no lo consiguiera no significa que ese sentimiento haya desaparecido: es un chico atormentado, angustiado, en perpetuo estado de furia y desasosiego. Vuelve al instituto, al equipo de natación, pero el peso de la culpa es casi insoportable. Conrad tiene el apoyo de papá, un hombre básicamente bueno y preocupado, y el del doctor Berger, pero no el de mamá, una harpía en toda regla que no le perdona lo ocurrido y parece incapaz de apreciar hasta qué punto sufre el chico. Mientras Conrad lucha por recuperar su vida, la familia camina hacia la desintegración.

Eligiendo un drama intenso y complejo, Redford demostró que cambiar el rol de actor por el de director no obedecía, precisamente, al capricho de una estrella aburrida. La densa novel de Guest obligó a un tratamiento de dos años y medio hasta convertirse en un guión pulido, obra y gracia del solvente Alvin Sargent. Sargent, que había ganado el Oscar por el libreto de Julia, repitió estatuilla con Ordinary people, merecida recompensa a tan ardua labor. No acabó aquí el reconocimiento de la Academia: generosa, bendijo a Redford, un novato, reconociéndole como mejor realizador, y consideró que su cinta había sido la mejor del año. Un botín que se completó con otro Oscar no menos merecido: el de mejor actor secundario, aunque su rol fuera principal, para Timothy Hutton.

La carrera de Hutton ha oscilado desde entonces entre lo frustrante y lo anodino pero, como le ocurrió a Redford, lo bordó con su primera película (contaba sólo con papeles en televisión). Tenía 20 años pero resultaba perfecto como adolescente, e impregnó a su interpretación de tal grado de veracidad (ha asegurado que no se sirvió de la muerte de su propio padre, ocurrida meses antes, pero quién sabe) que, si la película funciona, es en gran medida porque supo zambullirse con éxito en el complejo papel de un crío depresivo aplastado por la culpa. Después, lo dicho: sin noticias de Hutton, reciclado en actor insustancial.

El reparto, sólido, lo completan Donald Sutherland, impecable como el padre, y Mary Tyler Moore como la madre, en un tour de force, como les gusta a los ”entendidos”, que la obligó a dejar sus habituales papeles amables para reciclarse en una cabrona bastante desalmada. Nominación para ella, así como para Judd Hirsch, el médico.

Redford, sin haberse prodigado mucho (otras 6 cintas más en casi 30 años), no lo ha hecho mal cuando ha dirigido, aunque ha tendido a caer en lo ñoño (El río de la vida, El hombre que susurraba a los caballos); su gran excepción: Quiz Show, nominada a mejor película y mejor director, una delicia. Pero fue, quién lo iba a decir, en su estreno al otro lado de la cámara cuando ofreció mejores prestaciones. Demostró buen gusto al elegir el material, supo rodearse de buenos profesionales y sirvió una película de obligada visión; sin pirotecnias ni grandes alardes, pero con los pulmones suficientes para bucear en las honduras de los conflictos humanos.

Have you ever met one of your heroes? As a teenager I was a huge Beatles fan. I knew all the songs, all the lyrics. In fact I was so nerdy I could have told you the track order of every single (British version) album they produced between the years of 1962 and 1970. I was an uber-Fab Four geek. The inspiration of their incredible songwriting led me to write and perform songs of my own. Of the four, John Lennon was my biggest hero but I was well aware that all four of them made the band what it was – take any of them away and I do not believe their career would have been quite as successful.

In 1990 the guitarist in my band, Niall, offered me a ticket to see Paul McCartney play at Wembley Arena. This was his first major tour in some time (possibly his first since having ditched the ‘Wings’ format of his ever-changing backing band) and punters were told to expect plenty of Beatles songs. Niall’s brother-in-law was McCartney’s press agent at the time, which meant that we not only had tickets, we had backstage passes (which explains how I met Donald Sutherland backstage at a McCartney gig).

I spent weeks anticipating the fact that I was going to meet one of my childhood heroes. Yes of course I’d have loved for John Lennon to still be alive and to be able to meet him (meet him? I’d have put super-glue on my palm before shaking hands with him in order to get plenty of time to chat to the guy!). What does one say to such an important, if distant, figure in their lives? “Your music changed my life, Paul.” Hmm, bit corny and probably something he’s heard his whole life. “I love you.” Me and several million other people. I couldn’t work out whether there was anything worth saying and decided to just realize how lucky I was to be able to be in the same room as the guy.

As it turned out, even if I’d had a perfect speech planned to harangue the man with, I wouldn’t have been likely to get it out as when he was suddenly stood in front of me (Linda by his side), my tongue stuck itself to the roof of my mouth and it was all I could do to mumble “Hello” as we shook hands. In my defence, as he entered the room he really did bring that superstar presence into the place. This was one of the most famous people in the world and I guess if I was going to be reduced to a speechless buffoon I’d rather it was by a Beatle than by anyone else in the world.

The gig that evening reduced me to tears of joy so many times. ‘Live and Let Die’ was amazing, as were quite a few of his solo classics (even ‘Ebony and Ivory’ took on a poignancy I’d never credited it with before). But it was hearing Beatle’s songs live that brought the tears to my eyes again and again: ‘The Long and Winding Road’, ‘Hey Jude’, ‘Yesterday’ and then the entire medley from the second half of Abbey Road, concluding with ‘The End’, fittingly the last thing his former band ever recorded. By the end of the night I was practically speechless again and I’d realised something. The middle eight of ‘The Long and Winding Road’, which I’d always felt was ‘mine’ as a teenager, do not apply. ‘Many times I’ve been alone and many times I’ve cried’? Actually, despite the many times I had cried in those formative years, I’d never been alone – I could always stick a Beatles album on the turntable and let their songs chase away my loneliness.

Few characters have made as powerful or as lasting an impression on international popular culture as Astro Boy. The little robot first appeared in 1951 as a character in the celebrated artist and animator Osamu Tezuka’s legendary manga(Japanese comic book) and became an instant icon. He was subsequently featured as the star of his own television series in both black-and white and in color, eventually airing in over 40 countries. Astro Boy created the standard for a new form of animation that has become world famous as anime.

Now for the first time, Astro Boy will be brought to life on the big screen. Created with breathtaking computer animation from Imagi Studios, the film Astro Boy is a thrilling tale of a true hero. The film is set to debut in theaters on October 23, 2009.

Set in futuristic Metro City, Astro Boy is about a young robot with incredible powers created by a brilliant scientist named Dr. Tenma (Nicolas Cage). Powered by positive “blue” energy, Astro Boy (Freddie Highmore) is endowed with super strength, x-ray vision, unbelievable speed and the ability to fly. Embarking on a journey in search of acceptance, Astro Boy encounters many other colorful characters along the way. Through his adventures, he learns the joys and emotions of being human, and gains the strength to embrace his destiny. Ultimately learning his friends and family are in danger, Astro Boy marshals his awesome super powers and returns toMetro City in a valiant effort to save everything he cares about and to understand what it means to be a hero.

Starring: Nicolas Cage, Kristen Bell, Bill Nighy, Freddie Highmore, Donald Sutherland, Eugene Levy, Nathan Lane, Matt Lucas, Sterling Beaumon, Madeline Carroll, Charlize Theron
Director: David Bowers
Screenwriter: Timothy Harris, David Bowers
Studio: Summit Entertainment

MOVIE TRAILER :

]]> http://doctorbeatnik.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/where-do-these-celebrities-keep-coming-from/ Fri, 20 Nov 2009 11:23:15 +0000 Steven Harris http://doctorbeatnik.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/where-do-these-celebrities-keep-coming-from/

Watching an old episode of ‘Friends’ the other night – the one where Ross says the wrong name during his wedding to Emily -  I was reminded of the night I played some songs in front of Jennifer Saunders. Jennifer’s daughter was playing that night too as it was an open mic night at a local bar. I was due to go on after her and it only dawned on me as I was checking my guitar was in tune over in a quiet corner that Jennifer was in the front row, having come to watch her daughter’s performance. She looked softer than her ‘Absolutely Fabulous’ persona and seemed to be enjoying the evening. When I stepped out onto the stage for my slot I tried not to stare directly at her as I knew it would make me feel nervous. I don’t know why, there was a time when I kept randomly bumping into celebrities. Then again, when it is random you don’t ever really get a chance to get used to the idea. I mean you can’t wonder around life think ‘Oh I’m Mr Planet, I bump into famous people.’ Not unless you want people to use the word ‘arrogant’ when they describe you.

But it is true that I’ve encountered celebrities in unexpected situations. Once I was heading to a band rehearsal and walking over a bridge in town. Coming the other way was a blond chap who seemed a little familiar. ‘He looks like David McCallum out of ‘The Man From U.N.C.L.E.’,’ I thought to myself as he drew nearer. “You’re David McCallum,” I suddenly said. “Yes I am,” he replied, “And who are you?” “Oh I’m just a bloke on the street hassling you,” I said, realising that it was really rather rude of me to just blurt out my thoughts at him. He extended his hand and said “Hello bloke on the street.” “Hello David McCallum.” He then pointed at my guitar case and said “You playing tonight?” “Rehearsing with my band,” I told him. “You any good?” he wanted to know. “I’m not bad.” He smiled and said “Well I’m not bad at acting so you never know.” And that was that. He had to go, I was late for rehearsal and I forgot to ask him the most important question which was, ‘What are you doing in this two-bit nowhere town I call home?’

Some years later, when I was at university, I was standing at the queue for the ATM with my son, who was probably about eight or nine years old at the time. There were two ATM machines and the guy alongside me in the other queue looked familiar. Oh my word, he was Dave Davies, guitar player of The Kinks, one of my favourite sixties bands. “Hello guitar man,” I said. He turned round and smiled and said something quite softly. I remembered as he spoke that he’d suffered a stroke a few years back so he might not want people bugging him on the street. So I just gave him the thumbs-up, which he returned. We both stepped forward to the cash machines at the same time and when he’d done he tapped me on the shoulder and said goodbye with another thumbs-up. “Who was that?” asked my son. “He was in a huge band in the sixties.” “Bigger than McFly?” he asked (for the Americans, McFly were the equivalent of the Jonas Brothers over here for a year or two). “Well sort of,” I replied, “But even bigger and much more talented.” “Cool.” And I had to agree, how very cool to just bump into Dave Davies while waiting to draw some money out of the bank.

In similar fashion I have met Donald Sutherland, David Suchet (who plays Poirot over here in the UK), Hugh Cornwell of The Stranglers, Tony Robinson (Baldrick from ‘Blackadder’), and several other minor celebs. But the famous person I refused to get excited about was a member of the royal family. It was my first year at university and I was walking down a corridor talking with a friend. My shoulder brushed against the shoulder of somebody coming the other way. “Sorry,” I said and carried on walking. My friend was agitated. “Oh my god! Do you know who that was?” “Nope,” I said, as I hadn’t even looked up. “That’s Peter Philips.” “Er, and he is?” “Princess Anne’s son. The Queen’s grandson.” I wondered what my friend expected me to do with this information. Run after Peter Philips and throw myself prostrate before him uttering profuse apologies? I grinned. “I doubt very much he’ll have me sent to the tower for brushing his shoulder, especially as I’ve said sorry. He probably likes being treated like a normal person anyway.” My friend still looked doubtful but, as my head was still attached to my shoulders, I assumed I was right and carried on walking.

Internet se ha convertido con el paso del tiempo en la herramienta por excelencia para la comunicación en todos sus aspectos. Las relaciones interpersonales han encontrado en el ciberespacio la posibilidad de instalarse en él en las denominadas redes sociales. Millones de usuarios a nivel mundial han sido atraídos a ellas y las han incorporado en sus vidas de manera tal que las visitas a estos sitios se repiten varias veces al día y son el punto de encuentro para todo tipo de actividades.
Las nuevas tecnologías que lo permiten se basan en aplicaciones que permiten el uso común en un único sitio con protocolos informáticos como el correo electrónico o la mensajería instantánea, o aplicaciones que permiten la subida y la descarga de fotografías, es decir que lo que se permite principalmente es el intercambio de información de forma eficaz e inmediata que facilite la comunicación y la interactividad entre las personas.
La primera red social de Internet fue www.sixdegrees.com, actualmente inactiva. Surgió en 1997 y permitía al usuario crear su perfil, tener una lista de amigos y de amigos de esos amigos. Esta red se basa en la teoría homónima propuesta inicialmente en 1929 por el escritor húngaro Frigyes Karinthy en un cuento llamado Chains. Esta teoría lo que intenta es probar que cualquier persona en el mundo puede estar conectada con cualquier otra mediante una cadena de conocidos que implica a 5 intermediarios, es decir ambas personas estarían conectadas mediante seis enlaces y eso haría posible que la cadena de conocidos se convierta en la población del mundo.

Según esta teoría, cada persona conoce de media, entre amigos, familiares y compañeros de trabajo a unas 100 personas. Si cada uno de esos conocidos cercanos se relaciona con otras 100 personas, cualquier individuo puede pasar una determinada información a 10.000 personas con un solo mensaje tan sólo pidiendo a un amigo que lo pase a sus amigos. Si esos 10.000 conocen a otros 100 la red ya se ampliaría a 1.000.000 de personas conectadas en un tercer nivel, a 100.000.000 en un cuarto nivel, a 10.000.000.000 en un quinto nivel y a 1.000.000.000.000 en un sexto nivel.

En la década de los 50 el Instituto Tecnológico de Massachusetts y Manfred Kochen de IBM intentaron demostrarlo matemáticamente pero no quedaron del todo satisfechos. En 1967 un psicólogo estadounidense, Stanley Milgram, intentó nuevamente problarlo con un experimento que denominó “El problema del pequeño mundo”. La investigación consistió en hacer que varias personas del oeste de Estados Unidos enviaran postales a algún extraño en Massachusetts. Los emisores solo conocían el nombre, algunos datos y su localización aproximada del destinatario y debían hacer llegar la correspondencia entregándosela en mano a un amigo, aquel que realmente tuviera mayores posibilidades de llegar hasta el sujeto final. Todos pensaban que la cadena de intermediarios sería centenaria, pero en un tercio de los casos (y solo esto es lo que hace que muchos desconfíen) las postales llegaron tan solo entre 5 y 7 intermediarios y fue entonces cuando se le dio el nombre de ‘Seis grados de separación’.
Ya en los 90 la teoría fue llevada al teatro y en 1993 se estrenaba una película protagonizada por Will Smith y Donald Sutherland con su nombre aunque el argumento difiere de la teoría. También hubo una serie para la televisión realizada en 2007 por J.J. Abrams, el creador de Perdidos que no consiguió cautivar a la audiencia y dejó de emitirse tras el cuarto capítulo con la promesa de que volvería. La idea se convirtió en cultura popular a raíz un juego para ordenador que se localizaba en el sitio web de la Universidad de Virginia, su creador Brett C. Tjaden utilizó la web Internet Movie Database (IMDb) para documentar las diferentes conexiones que se iban realizando entre los diferentes actores; en 1996 la revista Time lo posicionó entre los diez mejores sitios web del año.

En la actualidad gracias a las nuevas tecnologías y principalmente a Internet la teoría parece más fácil de ser comprobada.
En 2001 aparecieron otras redes como BlackPlanet o MiGente que permitían crear redes de amistad o profesionales dentro de la propia red social. Actualmente las que se quedan con la mayoría de usuarios son Hi5, MySpace y Facebook. En esta última, existen cientos de grupos y páginas que incluyen en su nombre alguna variante. Pero un grupo en concreto se denomina “Six degrees of Separation – The LARGEST Group On Facebook” que cuenta con 5.606.800 miembros, lo que podría llevarnos a pensar que la teoría está muy difundida y que la gente está dispuesta a demostrarla, o por lo menos que tienen la esperanza que sea verdad; son cientos los blogs, vídeos y entradas en wikipedia que muestran las relaciones que personas anónimas demuestran tener en un sexto grado con algún famoso. No creo que fuera la idea original de la teoría, pero si ello ayuda a comprobarla, bienvenido sea.

Brilliant. Time to talk about our Ten lists once more, so settle in for the long haul and try and keep up. Much discussion ensues as Sam tries to extol the virtues of Ingmar Bergman, praise the magical realism of Billy Liar and attempt to make sense of All About Lily Chou-Chou. John continues the theme, causing slight, though understandable, consternation with his uncensored views on Raging Bull and confessions of multiple tears during Schindler’s List. Tom rounds the night off in business-like fashion with praise for The 400 Blows, controversial dislike for the second half of Stalker and man-crushed love for Le Samourai.

Download The Movie Overdose Episode 40.5

Remember to email us, sugarplums!

Never have so few taken so many for so much

AKA: A GAMAR TAMBÉM SE PODE SER HERÓI.

Aqui a redacção do SHV gosta de rever aqueles filmes com que cresceu. De vez em quando surge no limbo da nossa lembrança um filme que deixou marca. Kelly’s Heroes é um desses filmes. Não é um filme perfeito, mas deixa a sua marca. Passado durante o ano de 1944, durante a II WW e tendo Clint Eastwood como estrela da companhia, ele e seus companheiros fazem parte da 35ª Divisão de Infantaria, que após uma missão descobrem pela boca de um agente da Gestapo da existencia de um banco que guarda as riquezas nazis em forma de 14 000 barras de ouro, guardadas numa vila, 20 quiilómetros dentro das linhas inimigas. É lógico que muitas peripécias vão acontecer e muitas delas vão deixar os nossos leitores (aqueles que ainda não viram o filme) de boca aberta. Desde combates de tanques, a fazer que uma banda de música transporte uma ponte, a travessia de um campo de minas. Até ao final, Kelly´s Heroes prima pela mistura do tom de comédia com o de drama, sem esquecer uma boa dose de acção. Foi filmado na antiga Jugoslávia, com tanques americanos que pertenciam ao exército de Tito. Existe uma pequena piada, em forma de música, enquanto Eastwood encara o tanque Tigre, a fazer lembrar o delicioso The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Uma trilha sonora de Lalo Schifrin, de seu nome Tiger Tank, foi reutilizada por Quentin Tarantino em Inglorious Basterds. De Brian G. Hutton, com Clint Eastwood, Telly Savalas, Don Rickles, Carroll O’Connor, Donald Sutherland, Gavin MacLeod, Hal Buckley, Stuart Margolin, Jeff Morris, Richard Davalos, Perry Lopez, Tom Troupe, Harry Dean Stanton, Dick Balduzzi e Gene Collins.

After more than 20 years of reading The New Yorker, I still never know what I’m going to find.

Yesterday I found a Westporter I never heard of.

Tim Monich helped Missouri native Brad Pitt speak like Tennessee hillbilly Aldo Raine in "Inglourious Basterds"

“Talk This Way,” by Alex Wilkinson, profiles Tim Monich.  He’s got 1 of those fascinating jobs you never think about, or even know exist:  He teaches actors to talk.

Talk, that is, the right way for whatever role comes their way.

The New Yorker says:

Tim Monich taught Brad Pitt to talk as if he were from somewhere deep in the mountains of Tennessee.  He taught Matt Damon to speak as if he were South African, and Hilary Swank to speak like Amelia Earhart, who was from Kansas but had gone to boarding school near Philadelphia….

In early September, having nearly finished teaching Gerard Butler, who is Scottish, to speak as if he were from New York, for “The Bounty,” Monich began teaching Shia LaBeouf, who is from Southern California, to speak as if he’d grown up on Long Island, for “Wall Street.”

Tim has helped Donald Sutherland — a Canadian — speak like a South African, an Englishman, a wealthy New Yorker, a Kansan, a Georgian, an Oregonian, a North Carolinian, a Mississippian, a Michgander, a Minnesotan, and a member of the Polish politburo.

Sutherland said:  “He’s not a mechanic, and he doesn’t impose.  He comes in from underneath and supports your instincts; he doesn’t try to define them.  There are many people who do what he does, and by and large they offer constraints.  He offers liberation.”

His Westport home includes 6,000 recordings — “almost surely the largest private one of its kind” — of people talking.  They represent an enormous variety of places, periods and social stations — including tapes of Gertrude Stein, Ernest Hemingway, Teddy Roosevelt’s daughter and, from 1890, John Wilkes Booth’s brother Edwin reciting Othello.

It’s a fascinating piece.  The New Yorker, as it often does, shines a spotlight on someone who would never wander into it himself.

The fact that Tim Monich — despite living in our arts-oriented town — has managed to stay out of our own spotlight for all these years, makes The New Yorker story all the more special.

Brilliant. Time to talk about our Ten lists once more, so settle in for the long haul and try and keep up. Much discussion ensues as Sam tries to extol the virtues of Ingmar Bergman, praise the magical realism of Billy Liar and attempt to make sense of All About Lily Chou-Chou. John continues the theme, causing slight, though understandable, consternation with his uncensored views on Raging Bull and confessions of multiple tears during Schindler’s List. Tom rounds the night off in business-like fashion with praise for The 400 Blows, controversial dislike for the second half of Stalker and man-crushed love for Le Samourai.

Download The Movie Overdose Episode 40.5

Remember to email us, sugarplums!

Na carta que Ethan Powell, o antropologista que viveu com macacos, escreve para o psiquiatra que o ajuda:

Freedom is not just a dream.  It’s there, beyond those fences that we build all by ourselves.

Quer lembrar desse filme de 1999? Veja essa cena:

Seven films to watch while you’re laid up with the cold, H1N1, or whatever else gets you down.

NOT recommended viewing. For so many reasons.

Welcome to cold and flu season! Each years untold millions of people get the common cold, the flu, the stomach flu, and a variety of other painful and discomforting illnesses.Many sufferers cope by parking themselves on the couch and in front of the DVD player , creating some prime movie-viewing time.

Watching a favorite movie is pretty much the best way to spend a sick day. You don’t have to move around, you don’t have to think that much about the plot (since it’s your favorite, you’ve seen it before already) and you can pause the film for trips to the bathroom, kitchen, or medicine chest. For those of you who don’t have a “favorite” movie to help get you through the long, queasy recuperation hours, consider these classics. We’ve tried to include a variety of stuff, representing several genres.

Office Space - If you’re not going in to work you owe it to yourself to laugh at American office culture. Mike Judge’s (Idiocracy) comedy, in which Ron Livingston gets hypnotized into not giving a damn about anything his boss or company wants, remains the perfect way to laugh at all the healthy worker drones spending the day at their jobs. Bonus sick day activity: Drawl like office middle manager Bill Lumbergh (Gary Cole) to everyone you speak with, as in: “Hello, pharmacy? I’m gonna need you to go ahead and refill my prescription. Yeah, that’d be great.”

In The Good Old Summertime – A favorite among Judy Garland’s legions of fans, this romantic comedy/musical puts her at professional odds with fellow music shop salesman Van Johnson, even while the two fall in love as pen pals when off the clock. Proudly warm and nostalgic for its soundstage-perfect Victorian Era setting, the film features Garland as irresistable as ever and Johnson well-cast as a suitor so straight-laced he seems almost quaint by modern standards. And if store owner Mr. Oberkugen seems familiar, you probably also saw S. Z. Sakall play Carl, the maitre d’ at Rick’s Cafe Americain, in Casablanca. Bonus sick day activity: Sing along with Garland, especially during the showstopping “I Don’t Care.”

The Dirty Dozen - The epitome of classic Hollywood cinema that doesn’t ask too much of the brain, director Robert Aldrich’s fast-paced adventure stays enthralling right up until the last, disappointing final scene. Still, it’s a hell of a lot of fun to see while you’re watching it. Bonus sick day activity: Devise your own resolution to the Dozen’s raid on the Nazi castle, one that doesn’t uphold the Establishment status quo but instead lets Posey (Clint Walker) and Jefferson (Jim Brown) survive.

High Noon - Speaking of guy films, this high-water mark of the Western genre has everything a good Western should: an iconic good guy (Gary Cooper), a ferocious antagonist (Ian MacDonald) and a whole town up for grabs. Director Fred Zinnermann (From Here To Eternity) films the story in real-time, ratcheting the suspense up even further. Not for nothing, but it’s also probably got the coolest theme song of any Western ever made. Bonus sick day activity: Count off the townspeople running from outlaw Frank Miller (MacDonald) on their big clay feet; come up with your own argument to give the sheriff’s wife (Grace Kelly) that yes, sometimes violence is the answer.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles – Especially topical this time of year, John Hughes’ masterwork tells the hilarious story of an uptight yuppie (Steve Martin, giving probably his best performance) and an uncouth shower curtain ring salesman (John Candy, definitely giving his) stuck with each other while trying to get home for Thanksgiving. The ending is amazingly touching without falling into hokum, a rare feat in most Hollywood films. Bonus sick day activity: Follow Del Griffith’s (Candy) suggestion and play pickup sticks with your butt cheeks; alternately, wash all your pillowcases.

Stripes - Ivan Reitman’s spoof of basic training and army operations works from such an episodic script you can basically watch the film in ten and fifteen minutes doses. Nevertheless, stars Bill Murray and Harold Ramis put in some sublime comic acting, bolstered by a wide ensemble cast including Candy, Judge Reinhold, Sean Young, Warren Oates and John Larroquette. Fans of the Canadian series SCTV should look for cameos by alumni Dave “Doug McKenzie” Thomas and Joe “Count Floyd” Flaherty. Bonus sick day activity: Teach yourself to march and drill the John Winger (Murray) way, by shouting Manfred Mann songs and making goofy faces.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy – Probably best if you’re going to be laid up all weekend (or for several days, anyway) the monumental LOTR saga has everything you could want from a film series – adventure, intrigue, romance, a metric ton of action – while still remaining approachable and reasonably episodic. The plotlines start to drag a bit at times, and director Peter Jackson’s (King Kong) sense of restraint gets out from under him in the third chapter. Nevertheless, taken as a whole the trilogy delivers hours and hours of riveting viewing, especially the epic Battle of Helm’s Deep. Bonus sick day activity: Take a shot of Vitamin C every time Frodo (Elijah Wood) or Legolas (Orlando Bloom) stare at something in close-up. You’ll be up and moving around in no time.

We’ll be back later this week. Take it easy and we hope you feel better.

- Michael Kabel
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This weekend, our dance cards are full with Halloween bashes. Tomorrow afternoon, Tiny G has been invited to his girlfriend Hazel’s for a costume party. He is going as a bumble bee. Then tomorrow night, our friends Booth and Adam are hosting a spooky soirée to which my husband and I are going as Donald Sutherland and Jane Fonda, respectively, from Klute (1971). I was so inspired by a Uniqlo corduroy jacket my husband wears in heavy rotation, which, when teamed with a cashmere turtleneck, makes him look either like John Updike or Donald Sutherland. The latter seemed to give yours truly more wardrobe choices. Today I need to hunt down a cheap belt and a mullet wig to complete the look, though frankly my own ‘do is looking a little shaggy these days. I got this turtleneck mini at American Apparel, and PS, it doesn’t look QUITE like that on me:

…and will throw a Viktor & Rolf trench over the affair with some knee-high pleather boots picked up on the cheap in Paris about a decade ago. Here are some other fashionable turns from the movie, but were too much of a wardrobe investment (what? you ask, i don’t have a red leather corset with fringe kicking about in my closet?):

“Terrifying supernatural thriller-packed with edge-of-seat moments” this was mission statement so to speak on the front og the DVD.

I was quite disappointed with this film. It’s based on true events which is what made me want to watch it most of all, I’m intrigued by super natural events. It would be quite scary to have this happen to you or be witness to such strange happenings however I just felt that the film was actually fairly bland in terms of its’ “edge-of-seat” moments. There was not one moment where I found myself on the edge of my makeshift sofa! I found myself losing concentration on the film and getting distracted.

The scariest bit I would say was flash images of a wolf attacking Donald Sutherland who played the father in the family. I felt sorry for the father I think he had most of my emotion purely because he seemed to not deserve any of what was going on, you know he was a good man that had a good name and all because of one scary old bat he loses this and appears to be punished, he is the man of the house and wants to protect his family, the stress of it all appeared to be getting the better of him, it was a bit of a ‘bummer’ when he tried to shoot himself and failed, I did question whether or not the gun was actually loaded at all, you know was it just a daring act similar to a gesture!! I don’t know I was quite confused!! When he did finally die we see his daughter standing at his grave to be visited by that strange ghost of a child whose face suddenly appears rather than being a burnt looking mask. The film then cycles back to the start…I’m not sure i understand what the point was!!

Will the modern age mother be locked out of her house forever? will she be tormented? Has the entity gone with her daughter to torment the father? What is it???? I don’t know!!

Perhaps I will watch the film again,I suppose I can’t just make a conclusion from seeing it once, I rekon I’ve missed something out to be honest!!

Well, every now and then you have to hit a brick wall. After a few days of decent horror flicks in my Halloween Spook-tacular, I found one that needs a bullet to the head. An American Haunting puts a lot of the movies I say are bad to shame. This one is just so disappointing it hurts. An American Haunting billed itself wrong on three different fronts; one, that it was a scary movie, two, that it was based on some semblance of folklore or local legend, and finally that the film featured a ghost. None of these things happen at any point in the movie, and I can only guess that the creators of An American Haunting felt it necessary to have to lie in order to mask the shameful lack of eventfulness in this incredibly dull ghost movie that promises the moon but only delivers a bitch-slap from a phantom (THAT ISN’T EVEN A PHANTOM!).

So we’re in the 1800s, somewhere around Tennessee, when we’re taken to the home of John Bell and his family. After Mr. Bell loses a case in court to a woman some people in town believe to be a witch, odd occurrences at his house begin to happen, particularly to his lovely daughter Betsy. She starts having visions of evil little girls and powerful supernatural entities that encompass her as night comes over her house. The father even encounters sightings of a terrible black wolf, and hears strange noises at night. It becomes clear to them that there is some sort of supernatural force at work here, a force that is growing stronger and stronger each night. Betsy’s teacher and some of the family friends come over to watch over the house and determine just what it is over the course of a few nights, and their astonishment knows no boundaries when they witness the terrible power of this spirit. What is this presence in the Bell house? Does it have to do with the curse the witchy woman cast on John? What will become of this distraught, well-to-do Tennessee family?

What indeed. Well, one thing that won’t happen to them is something interesting, I can tell you that much. This is one of the dreariest period pieces I have ever laid eyes on. I’ve seen piles of pencil erasers with more character than this film. There’s nothing remarkable about it, save that it’s void of anything approaching redemption. The dialog is some cheap semblance of historical realism that comes off as just lazy rather than genuine, the effects are well-worn territory that make the movie look like it should be called Little Exorcist on the Prairie, and the direction by Courtney Solomon, founder of After Dark Films, is tame and shrill compared to the ballsy horror film it could have been, proving that sometimes it’s better to be behind the desk than behind the lens.

I’m pretty harsh here, I know, but I tell you with no hyperbole that I feel absolutely infuriated by An American Haunting. It is a movie that lies to its audience. The entire idea is predicated on a falsehood. I’ve never wanted to spoil a movie for people more than I want to right now (except for maybe the ending to Knowing), because the twist at the end is so atrocious and so audacious, that I clenched my fist in anger and felt the bones in my palm. It completely invalidates itself and replaces any feelings you might have had for it with mere annoyance. If you want to know what I’m talking about, leave a comment on this page telling me you want some spoilers, and I’ll flat-out tell you. People have to be warned about this sort of thing.

The cast isn’t bad. Donald Sutherland is reliable as patriarch John Bell. He is a very serious man here with a very serious problem on his hands, and his face tells it like it is. Or maybe he was just tired a lot throughout shooting, I don’t know. Sissy Spacek is good as matriarch Lucy Bell. She cares about her family in that old-fashioned way where she comforts silently from the sidelines so as not to bother the men-folk. It’s quaint, and Spacek appears so emotionally injured all the time with that face of hers that I can’t really hate her. And Betsy, played by Rachel Hurd-Wood of Perfume fame, is not slouch herself. She plays that young and beautiful Southern belle with a fragility that is haunting in and of itself. I enjoyed her most of all out of this whole affair, and hope to soon remember this as “that movie that really sucked but had a good turn by Rachel Hurd-Wood as a girl haunted by a ‘ghost’”.

I really don’t have any patience for An American Haunting. Like a lazy Southern debutante, it was too lazy to do any of the things it was supposed to, so instead it just puts on some fine period costumes and dances around like we wouldn’t notice. Well I noticed, and I am feel pretty put-out by this film. If I have any advice for you this Halloween season, it is to NOT watch An American Haunting, not even as a lark. It’s not ha-ha bad, it’s “I can’t believe I PAID for this” bad. I give it 2 irredeemable endings out of 10, and a big thumbs-down from yours truly. Bah humbug.

Let’s try for something better tomorrow! I’m going to watch Hard Rock Zombies! Until then!

Dirty Sexy Money di Craig Wright (USA 2007) Prima stagione

Bizzarra serie televisiva che sembra fondere “Dallas” e “I Tenenbaum”. Protagonista, Nick George, un giovane avvocato dai sani principi che deve prendere il posto del padre (morto in un sospetto incidente aereo) come avvocato di famiglia della più ricca e chiaccherata famiglia di New York.

Come spesso capita la puntata pilota è intrigante, ma il resto della stagione si invischia in eccessi di macrotrama (chi ha ucciso il padre di Nick? chi è il figlio illegittimo nella famiglia Darling) e la vagonata di intrighi, scandali, gelosie e intrallazzi sentimentali che in genere vengono usati ed abusati per tentare di fidelizzare lo spettatore alla serie Tv. Anche se la serie è ben confezionata con una fotografia elegante, una buona regia ed un cast notevole (Donald Sutherland, Jill Clayburgh, William Baldwin), la formula di “Dirty Sexy Money” tende subito a stancare. Il tono grottesco e comico di questa famiglia scandalosamente ricca e decadente abbinato ad una trama contorta e parzialmente drammatica, non funziona del tutto. Per non parlare dell’odioso attore che interpreta Nick George, ovvero Peter Krause protagonista della serie “Six Feet Under”, che sa esibire anche qui come in “Six Feet Under” solo tre espressioni: perplesso, irritato e perplesso-irritato. Fantastica invece come sempre l’interpretazione di Donald Sutherland, sempre qualche metro sopra il resto del cast, ma che non basta a salvare questa serie dal meritato oblio. La ABC infatti ha cancellato “Dirty Sexy Money” dal proprio palinsensto alla fine della seconda stagione a causa del basso seguito da parte del  pubblico.

Voto: 5 secchi di vomito

The white man in Africa never gets no respect.

South African school teacher Ben du Toit (Donald Sutherland) seeks justice for the murder of a black boy in this political drama set against the backdrop of apartheid. When his gardener’s son is killed by a vicious police officer, Ben hires lawyer Ian Mackenzie (Marlon Brando) to prosecute the man. With the outcome of the case a foregone conclusion, Mackenzie butts heads with the system at every turn while Ben suffers personal alienation.

A Dry White Season is a story that shows a man who can no longer close his eyes to the injustice system that is happening so wrong around him. It also does contain a lot about the South African’s lifestyles and the difference of the whites and the blacks that inhabit South Africa. This film does do a great job at showing the whole spectrum of Africa and not just a few white descenders.

The one thing I lied about the film which may be a bad thing for some people is that it’s very graphic in its depiction of the brutality that goes on in South Africa. He shows children being harmed, adults being beaten, and shows all the scrapes and scars in their entirety and doesn’t shy away and show movie injuries, and that’s what I think makes the film a whole lot more effective and true.

The film falls a bit short for me because it relies too heavily on cinematic conventions. What I mean is that instead of focusing on a sweeping indictment of Apartheid and living conditions in the townships, the film tries treats Jurgen Prochnow’s character simply as “the bad guy,” and the movie suffers for it.

The music which I do not get very discouraged about was a big problem for me. This gave me the wrong feel during certain scenes where more current use of scoring techniques would have been more appropriate.

The acting in this film is superb. Donald Sutherland is up for the challenge and shows what it feels like to be an average white man who just won’t stand for the disgrace any longer, and creates a powerful but sympathetic portrait. Marlon Brando is amazing in his very brief performance and I think was misused as along with Susan Sarandon. Both show that they can act but they just weren’t given the right amount of screen action, and when you have two big name actors heavily titled on the posters they should be in the film more.

Consensus: A Dry White Season is a heavy-handed but very powerful film about the apartheid in South Africa that doesn’t shy away from showing the true reality of their lifestyles.

8/10=Matinee!!!!