Before I begin, I need to get something off my chest. I am tired of sheep. Not the small cuddly kind from which we obtain those great woolen sweaters, but the kind that people like you and I are often compared to when someone who sets themselves up to be an arbiter of all that is right in the world calls us such. If you don’t lean a particular political way, or subscribe to certain social causes, or if you happen to like certain forms of entertainment, then you are a sheep, blindly following along behind all the other sheep. You cannot make up your own mind. The latest in a string of sheep insults comes from Kansas City Star critic Robert Butler. He concludes his eviscerating review of Pirates of the Carribean: At World’s End with the words:
I’ve long been a fan of British television. I like the atmospheric mystery shows like Poirot and Marple. I like the sweet natured comedy of shows like The Vicar of Dibley and As Time Goes By. I like the slapstick antics of shows like Mr. Bean and Fawlty Towers. And lets face facts: I am an American male so it is hardwired into my genes to like explosive action films! The mere fact that Edward Wright and Simon Pegg attempted to do a send up of all these genres was enough to make me want to see Hot Fuzz. The fact that they succeeded so brilliantly in every aspect makes me not only glad that I went to see it now while it is in theatres but also compels me to tell you to go see it.
The Invisible, a film offering from the producers of The Sixth Sense and co-writer of Batman Begins, is an aptly named movie…as many of the things that make a movie work are just that–invisible!
Grind House:A theater playing back-to-back films exploiting sex, violence, and other extreme subject matter.
Grindhouse:A film showcasing a double-feature of films by famed directors Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, celebrating the 1970’s grind house films in all their graphic glory.
Can a bloody, violent film based on a graphic novel be art? Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you that it can be. 300, the second of Frank Miller’s works to be given the big screen treatment, is cinematic art at its finest. Poetic, operatic, graceful (thanks Kat)…300 is a relentless ballet of passion and pain; blood and the brutality of ancient warfare dancing gloriously across the screen.
