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Not only does Wall-E copy its robot from a Steve Guttenberg flick, it also contains some sort of Bush crack. Fred Willard? Really?
Grumble. Maybe they should just rerelease Nemo.
Apollo posted this at 7:47 PM EDT on Saturday, June 21st, 2008 as Film Rants
I saw Indiana Jones last night. Not bad. But what really got my attention was the extended preview of Hancock. Will Smith is in a small group of actors I’d watch in just about anything (Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett are the only other members; Brad Pitt is an associate member and Harrison Ford is a member emeritus). But watching the preview I was in disbelief that Hollywood had come up with an actual original story I was interested in.
Then I read Wikipedia’s description of the 12 years it took Hancock to go from script to movie. Here’s the best:
Director Michael Mann was initially attached to direct [Hancock], but he instead opted to direct Miami Vice (2006)
I was unaware that there was a Miami Vice movie. That was about as smart as when Mann decided not to direct The Aviator. Perhaps along with “movies starring Will Smith, Russell Crowe, or Cate Blanchett,” “movies Michael Mann won’t direct” will now go on my must-watch list.
Apollo posted this at 12:42 PM EDT on Sunday, June 8th, 2008 as Amer-I-Can!, Film Rants
…in Indiana Jones.
What a crappy movie.
Jamie posted this at 12:42 PM EDT on Saturday, May 24th, 2008 as Film Rants
Todd McCarthy’s review of Pacino’s 88 Minutes isn’t quite as full of invective as Roger Ebert’s famous take-down of Rob Schneider, but it’s quite amusing nonetheless:
“88 Minutes” can’t even live up to its title. With 19 — count ‘em, 19 — producers, including director Jon Avnet, ensuring that every aspect of the film, from the script to the star’s haircut, is ludicrous in the extreme, the picture easily snatches from “Revolution” the prize as Al Pacino’s career worst. Available on DVD in some territories as early as February 2007 and rolled out theatrically in France and elsewhere beginning in May of last year, this gape-inducing fiasco is getting a token domestic release that at least saves its star the indignity of a dump straight to homevid.
But from the incompetently staged first scene, in which nubile Asian twins are strung up and tortured by a weirdo to the accompaniment of generic musical pummeling, this looks like something off the bargain horror rack. Nine years later, “Seattle Slayer” Jon Forster (Neal McDonough) is skedded to be executed for the crime, but on that very day, a virtually identical murder is committed that could be the work of a copycat, but might also call Forster’s guilt into question.
Enter Dr. Jack Gramm (Pacino), a star forensic psychiatrist whose testimony landed Forster on death row. The operative word here is “star”; this guy has a goofy thatched haircut that by definition cost hundreds of dollars, a seeming perma-tan, a top-of-the-line Porsche and a high-tech designer condo that may rep the combined fantasies of the 19 producers.
Jack also teaches at a local university where all his female students are babes, at least some of whom have crushes on him even though he’s past retirement age. In the interest of fair play, his male students are good-looking too, but in that cold, potential-serial-killer sort of way. Oh yeah, the dean of the law school (Deborah Kara Unger) is a babe, too.
…
Pacino rants and runs around, but without quite the sense of urgency one might imagine from someone in his extreme predicament. To play the babes, the 19 producers have seen fit to hire actresses (including Witt but especially Leelee Sobieski) with the uniform capacity to tower over the leading man, something for which he was surely grateful.
Heh.
Tom posted this at 10:23 AM EDT on Friday, April 18th, 2008 as Film Rants