Paramount

I grew up on the horror comics of the 1970's. Eerie and Creepy were two of my favorites. My father would buy them and pass them down to me when he finished reading them. They were black and white so that they could take advantage of a loophole in the Comics Code and often featured lurid and gory stories of horror and depravity. Probably not the most appropriate reading for a young boy, but I ate them up. Before those comics there were the EC horror comics from Bill Gaines in the 1950's. Titles like Tales From The Crypt and The Vault Of Horror called out to readers with gory and hideous covers. But it didn't really start there.

"Listen, my friend. This is going to be very hard to comprehend, but none of what you are seeing is real."

Of course it's not real. It's not really that hard to comprehend at all. This is an animated show, after all. And the figures look like cut-out pieces of construction paper. Of course, we're talking about South Park. What is hard to comprehend, however, is that we're talking about the 18th season of South Park. Few television shows last this long, and only The Simpsons has been around longer when it comes to scripted animated shows running today. That's rare air, indeed

The D Train was not what I expected...and thank goodness for that. The film boasts that it's from the “comedic geniuses who brought you Nacho Libre and Wayne's World,” although the only thing those two movies have in common is that they're both comedies with, um, people in them. Meanwhile, the glossy poster makes it look like an inspirational drama, which doesn't exactly mesh with the phallic-sounding title. In other words, there's nothing about The D Train that hints at the intriguing dramedy lurking underneath.

You will remain my prisoners until you've told me what really happened in Masada.”

Those words are spoken by Flavius Josephus, the real-life historian for the Romans who chronicled the Siege of Masada. In The Dovekeepers, Josephus is talking to two iron-willed female prisoners who also happen to be among the few people who survived the attack. Their story is told in flashback, and this two-part miniseries brushes up against some interesting points about who gets to write humanity's history. But in telling the story from a female perspective — an admirable, out-of-the-box idea — this miniseries reduces a complex, fascinating historical event into a stiff, protracted soap opera.

The notion that there are two sides to every story is at the center of The Affair. Almost every episode depicts the same events related to the titular adulterous relationship from two different perspectives. It’s an ingenious and inclusive storytelling tool because TV viewers are encouraged to spot the differences in each character’s account of events. (Along with inconsistencies in hairstyles, wardrobe, wallpaper, etc.) That’s why I was somewhat disheartened by the latter portion of the season veering away from what made the show great.

I Love Lucy changed the fledgling television industry in the 1950’s. This was a time when network television was less than a decade old. Most folks had never heard of television just 15 years earlier. I Love Lucy defined the concept of a sitcom. The show was driven by the very strong personalities of the cast. Desi Arnaz was considered a charismatic Latin lover by American women. Lucy played the perfect foil and found a mountain of gold to mine in strong physical comedy. So many modern shows owe their roots to this classic that it would be impossible to mention them all here. Now CBS and Paramount are bringing the show back in brand-new high-definition restored image that will delight even the pickiest fans of the show.

“When you get four vampires in a flat, obviously there’s going to be a lot of tension.”

The set-up for What We Do in the Shadows makes it sound less like your typical vampire movie and more like some kind of twisted season of The Real World. (Well…slightly more twisted than usual.) But besides finding a funny way to skewer bratty roommates and the mundaneness of everyday life, the movie works as a cheeky celebration of the classical cinematic bloodsucker.

“I need to know what you are worth when I leave you nothing.”

These are the parting words that Jim Bennett (Mark Wahlberg) is left with from his dying grandfather.  At first these words may seem a bit harsh, but the more time we spend with Bennett we start to understand the grandfather’s intentions.  The Gambler, a remake of the 1974 film with same title, follows Bennett along his downward spiral as his gambling addiction drags him down to the point where death is imminent, yet death seems to be the escape Bennett so desperately craves.  In other words, this is not exactly the film you watch to get into the holly jolly spirit of the holidays. 

Most movies are just not very good. Lots of money goes into turning out boring, repetitive garbage. You watch it and then dispose of it and make room for the next thing. There are some who do more, but the more you do, the greater the risk. Most filmmakers are not given the freedom to take really big risks, but someone who has been given the opportunity to take the big risk is Christopher Nolan. Interstellar is $165,000,000 gamble shooting for the moon.  Actually Nolan is shooting for something way past the moon. He wants to take us to another galaxy.

Boyhood is all the rage right now. With all the hoopla surrounding the film, it should be noted that it is ordinary. It is just about people living their lives. One could even call it boring. One can say that because life is boring. It is not as exciting as it is in the movies. Life is about small moments that add up to memories and then it is over. Boyhood doesn't make grand statements about boyhood, or about motherhood or fatherhood for that matter. It is just about a few people and what happens to them.