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"This despicable remake of the despicable 1978 film, I Spit On Your Grave adds yet another offense: a phony moral equivalency."

Roger Ebert is at it again. Over thirty years ago he pretty much hated the original film, but he didn't stop there. He extended his hatred to the fellow movie-goers he encountered as well. The 2010 remake appears to retain his disgust, and couldn't be prouder of the slight. Go figure.

"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead  your next stop, the Twilight Zone."

Image follows up its great Blu-ray release of seasons 1 and 2 with a third season that continues to impress.

"At the top of the world, there's a job only a few would dare. The Ice Road Truckers are back. Last year they chased their fortune over the frozen gauntlet of the Daulton. But this season, Alaska's most fearsome road is just the beginning...."

It was the peak of the 1970's, and CW McCall was teaching ordinary people like us about Cabover Petes with reefers on and getting by those Smokeys.

"Earth: a unique planet. Restless and dynamic. Continents shift and clash. Volcanoes erupt. Glaciers grow and recede. Titanic forces that are constantly at work, leaving a trail of geological mysteries behind."

I saw a bumper sticker recently that read; "Geologists dig classic rock". I should have taken it as an omen that I would be spending some quality time with a few geologists over these last couple of weeks.

"A vile bag of garbage named I Spit On Your Grave is playing in Chicago theaters this week. It is a movie so sick, reprehensible and contemptible that I can hardly believe it's playing in respectable theaters..."

Seldom has a film been so proud of a bad review like the one Roger Ebert delivered when he saw the film in 1980 during its limited Chicago area run that year. The rest of the review continues its rant against the violence and despicable nature of the film. But Ebert doesn't stop there.

You know you're in a lot of trouble when a movie opens up with the wedding of two dogs. Hi, I'm Baby. I'm the German Shepherd who runs security here at Upcomingdiscs. If you work for either UPS or Fed Ex, no introductions are necessary, and that spells R U N. I want to know why it is that you humans think that dogs want to look and act like people. We don't need no stinkin' sweaters. We don't want to walk on our hind legs. And we don't want to get married.

Character studies. They might be the most misunderstood movies in the business. Those who do understand them love them when they're done right. When the perfect balance of performance and direction create dynamic moments through character and to a lesser extent the story, we get pretty excited. I watched Stone recently, and I got pretty excited. But that's not the experience a lot of folks had. Perhaps because the film had a limited release in just over 100 theaters nationwide, the idea that it was an art-house or festival film might have put the mainstream folks off a bit.

Charlie Babbitt (Tom Cruise) is a self-centered dealer in exotic cars. He imports high-end sports cars into the states and sells them to the highest bidder. Within the first 10 minutes, we learn that he is not above bribing the EP for the cars to pass emissions, that he treats his girlfriend poorly, and that his father has just passed away. As he goes to the reading of the will, hoping for a big payday, his father leaves him only a car.

Westerns are typically fun movies to review because they usually don’t deviate much from a basic formula. There is usually a criminal, and there is usually a good guy out there to shoot that varmint. Technically, that is all there is to it. Furthermore, the budget (unless big stars are involved) is small, making for some creative storytelling. Today, we get to review an Australian western: Red Hill. Let’s see if it differs from the typical American one.

Vampires are real. There are millions of them out there. They might drink a little blood, but they're also quite fond of milkshakes and french fries. They don't usually haunt the local cemeteries at midnight because they often have curfews. They don't spend their days lying helpless in coffins deep in hypnotic slumber. They save those hypnotic states for uncomfortable desks. You can't scare these creatures with garlic or a crucifix. They're far more frightened of homework and detention.