Weinstein Company

The name Quentin Tarantino carries the weight of legacy as such directors as Alfred Hitchcock, Steven Spielberg, and more recently Christopher Nolan.  I’m not saying one is better than the other, but simply by name recognition alone Tarantino is in the company of directors that when you hear that his name is attached there will be a loyal fan base flocking to the theaters to see what they have to dazzle us with.  This time around Tarantino returns to the cinema in his biggest release to date; in glorious 70mm we have The Hateful Eight

It’s tradition. The night before a wedding, the groomsmen throw a party for the groom and the bridesmaids do the same for the bride. Usually, the bachelorette parties are tamer than their male counterparts. Unless, of course, the bride has the absolute worst bridesmaids in the history of weddings; like the ones Becky (Rebel Wilson, Pitch Perfect, Bridesmaids) chooses for her bridal party in Bachelorette.

If a movie starring Bruce Willis, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Vince Vaughn and a few other notable names only grosses slightly more than $20,000 — BoxOfficeMojo.com assures us that’s not a typo — does it make a sound? The natural assumption is any film boasting that kind of star power must be pretty bad to be completely ignored by distributors and the movie-going public. Lay the Favorite is a disappointing, low-energy effort, but it certainly deserved to make more money than what A Good Day to Die Hard will probably earn in the time it takes you to finish reading this sentence.

If the average civilian had been through the same stresses that you have been through, undoubtedly they too would have developed the same nervous conditions.”

The first time I saw The Master, I really didn’t like it. It was a terrible feeling. I’m a huge Paul Thomas Anderson fan, and Boogie Nights is one of my 10 favorite films of all time. So I walked into that theater excited to see what was being called a landmark achievement: the “Scientology movie” that wasn’t really about Scientology (but actually kinda was) helmed by one of the most talented directors working today.

“You think football builds character? It does not; football reveals character.”

The open secret about sports movies is that they’re not really about sports. Most of the great ones use the games people play as a dynamic arena to tell universal stories about struggle, underdogs overcoming impossible odds, greatness and redemption. You don’t have to know a nose guard from a mouth guard to enjoy a football movie. By that same token, Undefeated may chronicle a grueling real-life high school football season, but I wasn’t surprised to see it play out like a lot of fictional sports flicks.

The image of what a bully looks and sounds like has changed drastically in recent years. When you and I were growing up, a “bully” was probably someone who looked like this and demanded your lunch money. Mean Girls came out less than 10 years ago; but if Tina Fey were trying to get the exact same movie made today, she’d probably have to deal with notes from a nervous studio exec worried that the Burn Book would drive one of the characters to suicide.

What’s the latest home video gimmick? 3D, of course. And what’s the leading genre for cheap thrills on a low budget? The goofball horror movie, right? So it makes sense – sort of – for an enterprising filmmaker to throw together a low-comedy fright flick with cheesy gross-outs and bouncing breasts. See, in 3D, those babies can bounce big-time. And if that’s not enough boost for the boys in the audience, you also get severed heads, detached limbs, barf jokes and the dopiest plot this side of Lake Placid the Final Chapter. OK, you caught me. I never saw that one, it just sounds ridiculous.

"This Martius is grown from man to dragon. He has wings. He's more than a creeping thing. There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger."

There's a certain hierarchy when it comes to the amount of cinematic interpretations of William Shakespeare's plays. At the top tier, we have the endlessly adapted Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Othello and Macbeth the Scottish Play. A step below that, you've probably got your King Lear, As You Like It, A Midsummer Night's Dream and a few more. And about a dozen tiers below that, we finally come across Coriolanus.

As of late, I have found myself picking up some classic albums by Madonna. Her early stuff mostly, but I have even picked up Truth or Dare on Blu-Ray within the last week or so. Why? I honestly can not explain. Maybe I miss her voice, her sex appeal and the music that has made her a legend. What I did not expect was that I was going to be reviewing a movie directed by her. So let us sit back and see how the movie W./E. plays out.

"What must it be like to be the most famous woman on Earth?"

In My Week with Marilyn, one character relays this very question — apparently asked recently by Queen Elizabeth II — to Marilyn Monroe herself. The main problem with this movie is that it is less interested in exploring that query with a great amount of depth, and more interested in answering the considerably less provocative question, "What is it like to hang out with someone super famous?" (That's what Entourage was for.)