Posted in: Disc Reviews by David Annandale on July 7th, 2003
Synopsis
Posted in: Disc Reviews by David Annandale on July 7th, 2003
Synopsis
Posted in: Disc Reviews by Archive Authors on July 6th, 2003
I could sit here and type away for hours, deconstructing the finer points (using the term loosely) of the latest Ice Cube project, All About the Benjamins, were I so inclined. I could tell you about Bucum the bounty hunter (Cube), his target-turned-partner Reggie (Mike Epps, otherwise known as “Hey, that isn’t Chris Tucker!”) losing a sixty million-dollar lottery ticket and accidentally learning about a diamond heist while being relentlessly pursued. I could tell you about Bucum’s complicated motivation for ...anting to solve the diamond heist and ensuing murders before the Miami PD (after all, it’s all about the Benjamins!). I could tell you all about the chase scenes featuring several bazookas, a ridiculous dog track sequence, or a scene lifted right out of Scarface, the last surprising no one. I believe that when a rapper hits it big, a poster of Scarface comes in the “Opulence for Beginners” kit that the producers of MTV Cribs provides, so I suppose some of them must have actually seen the movie. I could try all of that, or I could save us both the time, and boil it down to this: All About the Benjamins is basically 48 hrs + Miami Vice. If you’ve seen one buddy comedy with a tough guy and a funnyman, you’ve seen them all. To that end, you’ve seen All About The Benjamins.
Of course, it would be irresponsible of me to simply assert that “this movie sucked,” and move on. Besides the lukewarm jokes, predictably bad action sequences and some extremely annoying characters (cough MIKE EPPS cough), one aspect of the Benjamins juts out as jarringly bad: Mr. Bray’s direction of this boat wreck. Bray’s directorial roots are in music videos, and if no one ever told you, you’d STILL know it beyond a reasonable doubt. One can recognize the frenetic fast cut style from a mile off. Certain sequences are repeated several times over, even though they only actually occur once (i.e., someone throws the diamonds in the air three times), a technique that becomes annoying the second time it’s used. Of course, there are plenty of girls in bikinis, fancy cars, camera angles right out of Batman: The TV show, and finally, every single action sequence seems to be in slow motion. Ice Cube running toward the camera? Slow motion. Gun flying through the air? Slow motion. Bad guy exiting car? Slow motion. Boat speeding across the Biscayne Bay? Slow motion. Mike Epps looking in the refrigerator? You guessed it: slow motion.
Posted in: Disc Reviews by Archive Authors on July 6th, 2003
When one thinks of the “Golden Age” of rock, the middle sixties to the middle seventies, a cornucopia of big name, big time acts usually surfaces in discussion. The big three, of course: The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin. Some impressive but undoubtedly second tier acts follow: The Who, Cream, Black Sabbath. Solo acts like Bowie, Elton John, Marvin Gaye and Jimi Hendrix stand out. One musical act that seems to get lost in the glare of these musical supernovas was a pair of soft-spoken, poetic friends ...rom Long Island, New York: Simon and Garfunkel. Though their light didn’t burn as brilliantly as The Beatles, or as long as The Stones, Simon and Garfunkel belong in the stratosphere of singer/songwriters, right alongside Lennon / McCartney and Paige / Plant. In their relatively short time together, they authored three of the top fifty songs in the history of recorded music: Bridge Over Troubled Water, The Sound of Silence, and America. That’s leaving OUT big time songs like The Boxer and Mrs. Robinson, both of which are probably in the top 100.
They were the band for the Greenwich Village crowd, the new beatniks, smoking pot in tiny jazz bars, listening to poetry and playing bongos, not quite hippies but not exactly all-Americans, either. Simon and Garfunkel had an intimate, intelligent brand of music, whose gentle melodies and striking lyrics really struck a chord with the bohemian set, and spread, grass-roots style, to liberal arts college crowds, radio stations, eventually enjoying low-key but widespread popularity. For a myriad of reasons, though, the pair decided to part ways, much to the disappointment of their fans. Paul Simon went on to a highly successful solo career for more than two decades…Garfunkel basically turned into a punchline. Ten years after they split, Simon and Garfunkel gave their fans exactly what they wanted: a reunion.
Posted in: Disc Reviews by David Annandale on July 4th, 2003
Synopsis
Posted in: Disc Reviews by Gino Sassani on July 4th, 2003
Synopsis
Posted in: Disc Reviews by Archive Authors on July 3rd, 2003
Synopsis
Nick Tellis (Jason Patrick) is an undercover narcotics officer who is placed on suspension after a shootout with a dealer gone very wrong. He is brought back to active duty to shadow another officer who might have had something to do with the death of his partner.
Posted in: Disc Reviews by Archive Authors on July 2nd, 2003
Film
To film fans, the clause “Directed by Alfred Hitchcock” has almost become an adjective in and of itself. It has come to mean suspense created by using the viewer’s imagination and mind as a part of the film, first and foremost. These films didn’t have the freedom of CG, and consequently had to invent ways to achieve visual effects (Watch the documentary on Birds or Rear Window for example). Besides the lack of freedom of creation that digital filmmaking now provides, the filmmak...rs had to tip toe around the Hays code, not only restrictive on sex and sexual undertones, but also on content (as we learn in the featurettes here) and gore. The phrase, and the adjective that bears the director’s name, has grown to include a certain quality of characters and meticulous film crafting in every phase of the production. Rebecca, therefore, can rightfully be called “classic Hitchcock.”
Posted in: Disc Reviews by David Annandale on July 2nd, 2003
Like The Brady Bunch Movie, this effort combines several incidents from the TV series and strings them together with a loose central premise, and the result is actually funnier than the first film. This premise is that Tim Matheson shows up pretending to be Carol Brady’s long-lost husband. He is after a priceless horse sculpture in the Bradys’ living room. The innocent/rude tone of the first film is carried through here, and given extra impetus by the addition of an is-it-incest-or-not? subplot involving Greg and Marcia’s attraction for each other. Added fun comes by way of a tying together of several seminal TV series from the 70s, and a hilarious moment of interaction between The Brady Bunch and Homicide: Life on the Streets (complete with hand-held camera).
Audio
Posted in: Disc Reviews by Archive Authors on July 1st, 2003
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas can be and has been described in many ways, but one of the things that this movie isn't is a Cheech and Chong road movie about a couple of whacky buddies on a drug binge in the city of sin. There’s no going to strip clubs, no hilarious misunderstandings that make one of them have to dress in drag and be involved in a stage show, in fact, there isn’t even any gambling. This movie is more accurately described as a scalding epitaph to the counterculture of the sixties, a re...ognition that the “Peace and Love” generation’s collective ideas about changing the world had largely failed. Fear and Loathing is a disdainful look in the rear view mirror at a generation's potential unfulfilled, lying on the side of the road embarrassed and worthless, like a 52 year old groupie trying to fit in with the youngsters, doing balloon hits at a Dead concert. In a more critical sense, I can describe it in a single word: overrated.
The movie has cultivated an impressively large cult following its release in the summer of 1998, and after three viewings, I can’t really put my finger on why. By design, it doesn’t follow any real solid narrative structure. We know we’re watching a couple of totally altered guys try to stumble their way through a weekend in Vegas, but their adventures basically include getting really high on something, freaking out somewhere, then returning to their trashed room to recover. Sure, some things actually happen; Azocar meets and has sex with a minor, Duke goes to the motorcycle race, meets some strange people, quits his assignment, there’s an ironic DA convention in town. None of these events are here to prop up a story structure; they’re true events, so they just sort of happen and move on. It’s never long before he’s just getting whacked out again and the story returns to its strange “stagnant wandering” roots. Usually, I’m pretty good at connecting with the European-style, open-ended, non-traditionally structured films, but this one just left me flat.
