Posts by M. W. Phillips

“Zippedy Doo-Dah. Zippedy Yay. My, oh my, I got a wonderful slave.”

I’ve never really been a big fan of director Gary Marshall’s films. I prefer his work as a producer of classic sitcoms, like The Odd Couple and Happy Days. Marshall’s most popular film, Pretty Woman, plays off the Cinderella cliché a little too much for my taste, with a man ultimately finding and saving a woman by redefining her. Three years before Pretty Woman, Marshall explored these same themes in Overboard, but instead of slick fantasy salvation at the hands of a wealthy Richard Gere,

In 2007, writer-directors Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza created [REC], a truly frightening horror film. Considering their subject matter is so familiar to audiences it proved a major challenge not to fall into clichés. Somehow, against all odds, [REC] remained fresh by blending the elements so well… nasty contagion and fast zombies ala 28 Days Later captured in documentary-syle videography made famous by The Blair Witch Project. Add likable lead characters, natural dialog, horrific gore and scream-at-the-screen suspense; sprinkle in clues of a disturbing spiritual origin to the mysterious virus and you end up with one of the scariest and most effective additions to both the zombie and “found footage” horror sub-genres.

“Look, you got what you wanted, I'm officially out of control.”

Based loosely on (Executive Producer) Mark Walberg’s meteoric rise to fame, Entourage has always been a male bonding fantasy; it plays like a boys-will-be-boys version of Sex in the City. Following Vincent Chase (Adrian Grenier) and his posse’s misadventures through the decadent lifestyles of the hyper-rich and fabulously famous carried with it a certain insider’s credibility and made for fun, if not slightly debauched TV voyeurism.

“Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair, shining gleaming steaming flaxen waxen. Give me it down to there, hair, shoulder length or longer, here, baby, there, mamma, everywhere, daddy, daddy hair! Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair!”

Born in the late 50s, I was a child of 60s and a teen in the 70s. I believed in the revolution. The Beatles and The Stones would lead the charge against the establishment.

“The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club!”

Now, let me be the millionth critic to break those rules… Back in 1997, David Fincher received a call from his agent, Josh Donen, who’d just finished Chuck Palahniuk's novel Fight Club and tried to talk Fincher into reading it. Even at a brisk 208 pages, Fincher passed on it, protesting being too busy to read books.