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Archive for June, 2007
Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
By Uncle Creepy (of Dread Central)
Zzzz … zzzz … zzzz … Huh?! What's that?! There's a Hannibal Lecter movie going on? THE HELL YOU SAY! I haven't seen hide nor hair of Anthony Hopkins and I've been sitting here watching … well okay, napping, for over two hours! Surely someone didn't make a Hannibal film without him! How could they?
Well I'll be.
Let's face it, folks — we live in a world in which everything is over-explained. There's just no mystery anymore. We have to know everything. At least that was Thomas Harris' take when he wrote the novel on which this film is based. Yep, our good Dr. Lecter's early years have been dissected, analyzed, and finally put to celluloid. So does it work? In a word — no.
Hannibal Rising has all of the stunning beauty of the other films in this franchise; yet, even that cannot save it from its own mediocrity. Let's start at the beginning …
 After his parents are killed, young Hannibal and his sister, Mischa, are held prisoner by a roving pack of would-be Nazis. Things get desperate for the men and their captives. So desperate in fact, that the group has to resort to cannibalism as a means to stay alive. Of course this not only develops Hannibal's taste for flesh but also drives him a bit mad. Fast forward a few years. Hannibal (played with much scenery chewing goodness by Gaspard Ulliel) sets out on his own to find the men who held him and his sister hostage way back when. What follows is your standard revenge tale which — dare I say it — lacks any real bite.
Part of the magic behind the character we all know and love was Hopkins' deliciously ghoulish portrayal. Ulliel isn't bad for what he has to work with, but Sir Anthony he is not. Bottom line — this leaves a huge void not only in the film but within the hearts of fans that cannot be filled.
 Now let's talk about the word. You see it there in those enticing red letters. Unrated. Could there have been a bit more meat to pick at that the MPAA wisely shielded us from? Maybe the presence of a little more grue could make this predominantly boring and flaccid piece of unnecessary fiction go down a bit easier. Guess what? We get nothing. Not a single extra drop of blood. Just a few more minutes of exposition. Thanks. Appreciate that. Why not just include a coupon for sleeping pills as a DVD extra?
Speaking of which …
Don't expect too much from the supplemental material. We get a feature commentary with director Peter Webber and producer Martha De Laurentiis that amounts to little more than pretentious back-patting. Seven minutes of deleted scenes with optional ass-kissing commentary. A seven-minute featurette hosted by production designer Allan Starski (who is nothing without Hutch) entitled Designing Horror and Elegance (can't you just smell the snobbery?). And then things are capped off with a sixteen-minute featurette that at least sounds promising, Hannibal Lecter: The Origin of Evil. The operative word there being sounds. Instead of a concise look at the fava bean-eating madman, we just get a bit more musing by the culprits behind this snooze-fest.
Yay.
In closing … aw, screw it. I'm going back to sleep. Someone wake me when Hopkins returns from making shitty courtroom thrillers with a whole new recipe for evil.
Special Features
- Commentary with director Peter Webber and producer Martha De Laurentiis
- Deleted scenes with optional commentary
- Designing Horror and Elegance featurette
- Hannibal Lecter: The Origin of Evil featurette
- Trailers
Film
 
2 1/2 out of 5
Special Features
2 1/2 out of 5
 Dread Central is the premier website for breaking news, original content and active community in the world of horror, covering movies, DVDs, games, collectibles, live events and music. If it’s got something to do with the dark and horrific, you’ll find it on Dread Central.
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
Lee Majors skillfully avoids all potential stunt obstacles on a trip around the LA River. Runtime: 52 sec
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
John Wayne capitalised on the success of Stagecoach in the '40s, making a string of formulaic films that, while unexceptional, cemented him as a box office draw. Most featured Wayne as one corner of a love triangle, vying with the likes of Walter Pidgeon, Ray Milland, and Randolph Scott (for Claire Trevor, Paulette Goddard, and Marlene Dietrich respectively).
Such roles ill suited him and it wasn’t until the end of the decade that he got the chance to show what he was really capable of, starring in four classics in the space of two years.
Fort Apache (1948)
The first film in John Ford’s famous cavalry trilogy saw Wayne in a secondary role with Henry Fonda playing Lt. Col. Owen Thursday, the film's central character. The story was inspired by the massacre at the Little Big Horn with Thursday based on George Armstrong Custer.
 Fonda is terrific as the by-the-book officer who’s unwilling to take advice from those who have more experience in dealing with Indians. We’re used to seeing Fonda as the good guy, although Sergio Leone famously cast him against type as the villain in Once Upon a Time in the West. Here though he’s neither hero nor villain, just a man, one who lets his ego cloud his judgment at the cost of his men’s lives.
As the seasoned Captain Kirby York, Wayne is the antithesis of Thursday. A true professional soldier, he finds himself forced to follow orders he knows are wrong. It’s a faultless performance but one that is overshadowed by Fonda, just as York in the film is overshadowed by Thursday.
Many of John Ford’s "repertory company" make appearances, with Ward Bond as the fort’s Sergeant Major particularly outstanding. Comic relief is provided by Victor McLaglen as Sergeant Festus Mulcahy and it’s the sort of role he filled so well in Ford’s films of the period.
The love interest is provided by Shirley Temple and John Agar and while their story adds nothing to the film (and could easily have been cut out) it certainly doesn’t spoil things.
Apart from Fonda’s performance, the film's greatest achievement is the cinematography by Archie Stout. Some years ago I was lucky enough to see Fort Apache at a cinema screening and until you’ve seen the epic vistas of monument valley on the big screen you haven’t truly seen the film; you get a sense of the immensity of it that is lost on television.
Just as he did with Stagecoach, Ford created the perfect balance of character and spectacle and in so doing made a film that is as involving today as it ever was.
Red River (1948)
An epic western that gave Wayne a chance to stretch himself as an actor, Red River tells the story of a cattle drive from Texas to Kansas. Wayne is Thomas Dunson, a cattle baron who faces ruin unless he can make the cross-country journey to get his cattle to market. Along for the ride are his adopted son Matt Garth (Montgomery Clift) and long-time friend 'Groot' Nadine (Walter Brennan) and an assortment of hired hands, including notorious gunman Cherry Valance (John Ireland).
Wayne starts the film playing his real age, as Dunson picks the land on which he’ll build his ranch and takes in Garth, the only survivor of a wagon train massacre. We then jump forward fourteen years with Dunson making preparations for the cattle drive. Duke was so convincing as the aging rancher that John Ford allegedly remarked "I never knew the big son of a bitch could act.” There is much more to Dunson than just his age though, and Wayne conveys the man’s single-minded obsession so well it’s almost scary. It foreshadowed the equally obsessive Ethan Edwards in The Searchers, with the two characters having more of an edge than any of the actor's other roles.
 Wayne first worked with Walter Brennan in two of the quickie westerns he made in the '30s and the pair had a great on-screen chemistry. It’s easy to write off 'Groot' Nadine as mere comic relief but such would be a disservice to Brennan. Yes, he provides the film with some light relief but he’s also the middleman caught between the tyrannical Dunson and Garth.
Of the three leads, it’s Clift who lets the side down, not through lack of ability but simply from miscasting. My Dad was no fan of Clift as an actor and consequently Red River was not one of his favourite Wayne films and growing up I think I inherited some of his prejudices but it’s something I’ve striven to conquer in later years.
Yet a recent reviewing of the film still left me unconvinced by Clift; he lacks the physical presence to stand alongside Wayne. He’s so small in fact that had he been a steer, Dunson would doubtless have taken him behind the barn and shot him. Maybe it’s because Wayne’s character is such a strong presence, both physically and mentally, that it’s hard to accept Garth standing against him. I’m always left wondering if Dunson gets shot prior to the final fistfight with Garth because Hawks realised that an audience wouldn’t accept Clift putting up much of a fight against Wayne (even wounded it’s a stretch).
The film's weakest performance though comes from Joanne Dru as a love interest for Garth that the story really doesn’t need. Until watching Dru’s performance I’d always assumed that getting shot by an arrow would be painful, so it came as a surprise to discover that one's reaction should be the equivalent of stubbing one's toe. The rest of her performance is equally emotionless but thankfully fairly brief.
Howard Hawks was a great director but some of his casting decisions are questionable. I’ve already mentioned Clift and there’s Ricky Nelson as a gunfighter in Rio Bravo. Equally outlandish was his original choice for the part of Cherry Valance — Cary Grant. Thankfully Grant turned him down, probably realising he was ill-suited to the role, and instead it went to John Ireland. The part was cut down from what was offered to Grant but Ireland still manages to make something of it. Valance isn’t a bad guy although there is certainly a sinister side to him and Ireland makes him likeable enough but also someone you don’t trust and wouldn’t want to turn your back on.
The film loses momentum during its final half hour with Wayne off-screen for much of it, his presence felt rather than seen as he hunts down Garth and company after they take the herd and head down the Chisholm Trail to Abilene. When he catches them it’s something of an anticlimax with everything reconciled after the previously mentioned bout of fisticuffs with Clift and a stiff talking to from Joanne Dru.
For the most part though this is a magnificent film and it allowed Wayne to create one of the best and most complex characters ever seen in a western.
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)
Captain Nathan Brittles (Wayne) is just days away from retirement but in that time he must do his best to stop an all-out war with the Indians not to mention ensure that young officers Flint Cohill (John Agar) and Ross Penell (Harry Carey Jr.) are ready to assume command when he steps down.
 It’s Brittles' interaction with the other occupants of the cavalry fort that give the film its heart. Having fun at the expense of Cohill and Penell, both of whom are infatuated with Joanne Dru’s Olivia Dandridge, or broader comic moments with Sergeant Quincannon (Victor McLaglen) are some of the more obvious ones but there are smaller touches as well, like the gentle pat on the head he gives Mildred Natwick after she helps the doctor save a wounded trooper's life.
The film focuses a little too much on the love triangle with Dru’s spoilt brat hard to like and Carey and Agar both unexceptional. It’s Ben Johnson who makes the biggest impression in only his second major role (his first was in Mighty Joe Young the same year). He plays Sergeant Tyree and, as well as some magnificent riding, he gets to do some real acting. The death scene of a fellow ex-confederate soldier is a particularly poignant moment and for such an inexperienced actor he does a remarkable job.
One of the most striking elements of the film is its look. Winton C. Hoch’s cinematography is as beautiful as any painting of the west. It captures the spirit of the film perfectly; this is the west of myth, a romantic vision that only existed in movies. It’s Ford’s love letter to the US Cavalry.
When I was a kid watching westerns with my dad this was always my least favourite of Ford’s cavalry trilogy; it seemed overly sentimental and lacking the action of Fort Apache or Rio Grande and what kid wants to see John Wayne playing an old fart? Yet it’s a film that I’ve come to love as I’ve grown older; in fact the closer I get to being an “old fart” the more it seems to move me. Yes, it is overly sentimental but so what? It’s also a beautiful piece of filmmaking, visually stunning, and featuring a majestic performance from Wayne that ranks as his best of the '40s and one of his best ever.
The Sands of Iwo Jima (1949)
Most of Wayne’s war movies were flag waiving gung-ho affairs and there’s certainly an element of that here but it’s tempered by a more realistic depiction of combat. Characters we’ve come to know and like are killed with brutal suddenness and not from an act of derring-do, but merely because they failed to keep their heads down. It’s the film's focus on survival as much as heroics that sets it apart.
 Telling the story of Sergeant Stryker and the squad of recruits he trains and takes into combat, the film culminates with the famous battle for Iwo Jima (seen recently in Clint Eastwood’s Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima). The film may lack the pyrotechnics of modern war films, but for the period it does a fine job of recreating the beach landing. Many of Wayne’s war films relied on stock footage for their action sequences and there is some used here but there isn’t the over-reliance on them that mars many of the other films.
As the tough-as-nails sergeant, Wayne is in fine form, barking out orders and making the recruits jump. Yet there is more to him than that; he's bitter at his wife for leaving him and taking his son with her, seeking solace in a bottle whenever the squad are granted leave. He's not heartless though; there's a touching scene with a mother and child that leads to him laying his demons to rest. And then there’s the dance scene where he teaches one of the squad how to use his bayonet by dancing a jig with him; it’s the films lightest moment by far.
He gets great support from Forrest Tucker as the squad’s troublemaker and Wally Cassell as the obligatory schemer. John Agar is on hand as well and this marked the third Wayne classic he’d appeared in. The film’s classic status has little to do with Agar though; in fact, as with Fort Apache and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, it would be fair to say the films are great in spite of his presence and certainly not because of it. Once again the film is burdened with a love interest for the actor, with his marriage and impending fatherhood used to mirror the failed relationship of Wayne’s Stryker. Unfortunately it doesn’t really work, with Agar lacking the range as an actor to pull it off. It’s little surprise that Agar descended to B-movie hell and films like The Brain from Planet Arous (1957) within a few years.
Wayne’s performance is the glue that holds the film together and despite some clichéd characters (and Agar), the film stands as one of the best war films of the period. If you only watch one John Wayne war movie, this should be it.
Ian Woolstencroft was brought up on a diet of John Wayne movies and Marvel Comics and still has a passion for both. Now as a blogcritic he finally understands what Spider-Man’s Uncle Ben meant when he said ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
What better way to spend time with the family than to pick them off one by one in a cartoonish fashion? Runtime: 56 sec
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
Robert T. Ironside was the Chief of Detectives for the San Francisco Police Department until a sniper’s bullet paralyzed the lower half of his body. Though he lost the use of his legs, his mind remained as strong and sharp as ever, which combined with his dogged determination allowed him to stay on the force as a special department consultant. He lived at the police station and used a modified police van to get around town. He was assisted by Sgt. Ed Brown, Officer Eve Whitfield, and on a more personal level by ex-con Mark Sanger, whose two incarcerations Ironside was involved.
The pilot, created by Colin Young, aired as an NBC television movie in March 1966. The series ran from September 14, 1967 to January 16, 1975. Young served as executive producer for the first five episodes and was replaced by Frank Price. A few scenes of the pilot are cut at an extremely rapid pace, causing unintentional humor. Thankfully, that editing style doesn’t transfer to the series. Quincy Jones created the theme song and music for some of the episodes.
When we first meet Ironside, he is man’s man. He drinks bourbon, eats chili, and talks tough, using “flaming” to get around the censors. His drinking and swearing lose their prominence over the season. Ironside provides a lot of the story’s exposition to the viewers as he solves the crimes from his wheelchair, which limited the plot’s action.
Raymond Burr played Ironside after a successful eight seasons as Perry Mason from the show of the same name that ran on CBS from 1957-66. The shows were slightly similar; Mason solves mysteries in a courtroom and Ironside solves mysteries on the streets. Both were excellent at their jobs and almost always prevailed. These factors may have helped viewers accept Burr’s transition, which has always been a notorious one as many actors have failed to have lightening strike twice.
One of the more enjoyable aspects in watching old television dramas is that you’ll never know who is going to show up. Over this first season, some of the more recognizable talent and future television stars are Tiny Tim, Jack Lord, John Saxon, Bruce Lee, Robert Carradine, Norman Fell, Robert Reed, Edward Asner, and Susan St James, appearing as two different characters only a couple of months apart.
Unfortunately, as with many of the Universal Television DVD releases, there are no extras. For those that want to see the series in the order the episodes were produced rather than aired, which will make more sense for those who notice hair and character development, the list is as follows:
Ironside Pilot
Leaf In The Forrest
Eat, Drink, And Be Buried
The Monster Of Comus Towers
Something For Nothing
Tagged For Murder
Message From Beyond
Dead Man's Tale
The Man Who Believed
An Inside Job
The Taker
Let My Brother Go
Light At The End Of The Journey
A Very Cool Hot Car
The Past Is Prologue
Girl In The Night
The Fourteenth Runner
Force Of Arms
Memory Of An Ice Cream Stick
To Kill A Cop
The Lonely Hostage
The Challenge
All In A Day's Work
Barbara Who
Perfect Crime
Officer Bobby
Trip To Hashbury
Due Process Of The Law
Return Of The Hero
This writer is a member of The Masked Movie Snobs, a collective that fights a never-ending battle against bad entertainment. El Bicho is an active contributing editor for BC Magazine.
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
Why is this man wearing a Pippi Longstocking wig, and why is he kicking trees? Runtime: 1 min
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
Like the old song goes, “Smoke gets in your eyes.”
It seems the MPAA is taking that quite literally. Recently, they decided to include on-screen depictions of smoking as one of the criteria that can earn a film an “R” rating.
I’ll take a somewhat unpopular (among Hollywood types) view on this.
I think it’s a good idea.
Naturally, most smoking in movies occurs as a general reflection of the fact of smoking itself. Smoking, like driving, is a part of visible life. However, movies have made something of a fetish of smoking for a few additional reasons. Actors are often looking for “business,” that catch-all word to describe hands-on activities that take the burden of undue focus off their dialogue.
Smoking is a great bit of business. Watch Bogie roll his own cig, then light it up in The Maltese Falcon. Great business.
And the reward?
The smoke itself.
Cigarette smoke is Hollywood’s cheapest special effect. It curls around the actor’s face. It lights beautifully. The simple act of taking a drag can shorthand misery, suspicion, anger…
Smoking is a great window to the soul, as visually informative as a smile or a tear. The way the actor exhales, the way they stub the cigarette out, the ritual of the “light,” the snap of a Zippo, the flick of the butt…
It’s all wonderful.
I don’t care what anyone says. Smoking DOES make you look cool, and movies make the already cool act of smoking even cooler-looking.
The one-sheet for Chinatown, which you see above, was illustrated by a friend of my named Jim Pearsall. It’s my favorite movie poster of all time, and that’s in no small part because Jim nailed the noirish essence of smoke. Jake Gittes is a man’s man, a tough private dick whose oxygen is the very stuff of smoggy L.A. And Evelyn Mulwray is a vision, a bit of smoke curling in the air. Beautiful, seductive…and then gone. Disappearing into the Chinatown air.
It’s movies like these that made me want to smoke. Yes, I’m actually someone who can safely say with 100% surety that I started smoking because of the way movies made smoking look. So did Jim Pearsall. In fact, that’s how Jim and I met. We were two smokers working at an ad agency in 1992. I’d stand outside sucking down my Marlboro Menthols (I know, I know…), and he’d rip the filters off his Carltons and tell me stories about old Hollywood.
Two years later, he was dead. Cancer, naturally.
The week before I got married, I quit smoking. I quit cold turkey, and I haven’t had a cigarette since 1996.
Still, is this a moral crusade we need?
Here’s my basic view of the MPAA and their ratings system. I don’t always agree with it. I know that I’ve personally had my share of issues with the MPAA on every movie I’ve done, and I have no doubt I’m in for plenty more. However, the MPAA ratings system is not censorship. The MPAA ratings system is designed to help parents figure out whether or not a movie is appropriate for their children. Simple as that.
We can argue about whether or not it does that well (although most parents apparently seem to think it does). I do know that every time I’ve gone in to recut a scene in order to avoid an R rating, I did so not under the threat of censorship, but out of a personal concern for my own bottom line. In other words…greed. I wanted a PG-13 so that the film would be seen by a wider audience, and I made the personal choice to sacrifice some moments in order to get that rating.
Even the dreaded NC-17 isn’t censorship. It’s just a rating. As an aside, however, I do believe that newspapers that refuse to run ads for NC-17 films and theaters that refuse to exhibit those movies are way out of line, and I think the MPAA should make a concerted effort to kill that practice…at least with the major newspaper and exhibitor chains.
Anyway…the operative question is simply this: do parents want their unaccompanied children to see a movie that glamorizes smoking? And yes, the ratings board seems pretty specific about the glamorization aspect. Context counts.
I’ll be honest. I don’t want my children to have that option. I was able to quit smoking, but I’m sure damage was done. It’s a risk I’d rather not leave to my children and the film industry to take together. I want to be a part of that decision. I’m not supporting the nanny state, nor am I attempting to legislate morality. An R rating doesn’t mean the film is evil, or it’s taboo, or it’s sinful or it’s shameful. It means that it includes certain content that parents should have the right to decide whether or not their children see.
I don’t agree with many of the criteria for R ratings (and I think there’s too much violence permitted in PG and PG-13 films), but I agree with the MPAA on this one. After all, I wasn’t just being an idiot when I decided to smoke.
I was being a 16 year-old idiot who had seen a lot of movies.
I accept responsibility for my choice as a child. As a parent, I’d like to accept responsiblity for the choice as well. The MPAA gave me one. I think that’s a good thing.
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Saturday, June 2nd, 2007
Ever had a nasty fight with someone close to you? Ever think to turn it into a screenplay, make a movie about it, and turn it into a comedy? Logically, no. However, this is Hollywood, and someone tried.
Peyton Reed directs this supposed comedy, starring Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston. Vaughn is never off, and Aniston always fits into her role as the adorable girlfriend/wife. What they’re given here is nothing more than a long-winded fight that plays out in such a miserable fashion, it’s impossible to pick out the jokes.
Actually, it’s almost awkward to watch. As their fight spills into a dinner scene, it almost seems like you’re one of the guests, exchanging glances with everyone else at the table looking for a way out of the room. Thanks to home media, you have that option, and it's recommended you do so.
Jon Favreau reunites on screen with Vaughn, improvising a fun role that seems like a slightly toned down version of their starring spots in the 2001 comedy Made. The Break-Up needs far more of these two, and far less of everyone else.
The tiring arguments between Aniston and Vaughn’s characters are grating enough, yet even when they’re not on screen, someone else is joining the battles. Aniston fights with her boss, Vaughn argues with friends, and it spirals downhill from there. This is just not entertainment.
Some small credit is deserved for pulling away from the usually painful romantic comedy formula, yet the attempts at drama fall flat because you’re unsure if you’re supposed to be laughing at the situation as in some dark comedies. The problem is the concept doesn’t work as entertainment. You can argue at home. The Break-Up has no idea what it’s trying to be, and neither does it’s audience. 
While it’s hardly going to be the HD DVD you’ll pull of your shelf to show off to friends, this is a well-rounded transfer. Colors are spectacular, and the compression is held at bay. A light layer of grain tends to show up against the background, though a nicely calibrated black level keeps this out of a non-discriminating view. The overall feel is soft, and sharper detail is lost. Still, it’s a decent effort for a film that doesn’t need a HD transfer in the first place. 
Break-Up surprises in the audio department too. There’s extensive surround work, especially effective during the opening scenes in Wrigley Field. There’s not much to work with in terms of bass and the film has no need for it. There’s always something nicely worked into all channels that’s not expected, and it’s a fun audio mix even if the film itself is a wasted effort.
Extras are strong and varied, a nice set up for those who want to see more. An alternate ending doesn’t do much for or against the film and a commentary by Reed and Vaughn explains the change. Eight deleted scenes feel redundant after watching the movie (there’s only so many way to show an argument), and combined with an extended dinner sequence, there’s 10 minutes of additional film content total.
Seven outtakes last 12 minutes and don’t offer much. A whopping 21 minutes of improvisational material between Vaughn and Favreau is fun to watch simply to see how many different ways their scenes could have played out.
Imperfect Harmony is the first featurette, a look at a minor character played by Jason Bateman. Included is his audition tape. The Making of the Break-Up is self explanatory, running 15 minutes. A nifty tour of Chicago is contained on a separate menu, looking at the sights featured in the film from the actor’s perspective as their shooting. It’s one of the best choices on the disc.
Two commentaries, the best led by Vaughn and Aniston, are better than listening to the film itself. The director goes solo on the second track. HD DVD exclusive extras include Universal’s U-Control, featuring little tidbits during the film in a picture-in-picture window.
Apparently, people enjoy watching their lives unfold on screen. The film more than doubled its money during its theatrical run. Somehow it managed to cost an estimated $52 million to produce, which is staggering for a movie that is almost entirely contained in a single room.
 Matt Paprocki is the reviews editor for Digital Press, a classic video game website which he called home after his fanzine (Gaming Source) published its final issue. The deep game collection which spans nearly 30 systems and 2,000 games line his walls for reasearch purposes. Really. He has also begun writing freelance for the Toledo Free Press.
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Friday, June 1st, 2007
Let me first start by saying, I never watched Hostel. There was something about glorifying the abject horror of torture made my stomach tense up and do a flip. Fast forwarding a few years and my stomach has gotten stronger on the inside (flabbier on the out). It's probably a side effect of being married for so long. Whatever the reasoning, it is just in time for Hostel: Part II. Lucky me.
Hostel: Part II starts off with the lone survivor from the first movie, Paxton (Jay Hernandez) hiding out at the house of his girlfriend's grandmother fearing for his life. Of course he doesn't last much longer, and just as soon as he's extinguished we're whisked away and are introduced to three girls, a wild child Whitney (Bijou Phillips), a rich prude Beth (Lauren German), and their butter-faced nerd friend Lorna (Heather Matarazzo). They’ve decided to go on a trip to Prague and upon departure are soon persuaded to alter their plans to include a five-star spa in Slovakia. Upon checking into the hotel, the wheels begin turning — the super-bored and-super rich folks begin bidding on who gets to "play" with them.
From there, I expected to be transported into Hell and to wish to God I never saw the movie. Yet that didn't happen. The horror and terror is practically nonexistent. I'm not about to go through the glorified gore or torture scenes, but I will say there are scythes, saws, clippers, knives, and blunt instruments all used in various ways. Unfortunately, those ways did little to revolt me. A blood bath — whoopity doo. Electroshock "therapy" — seen it in First Blood (or was it Rambo: First Blood Part II?) years ago. Aside from the ending, which made me wince, very little originality went into the heart of this film.
And that's where another problem arises. It takes far to long to even get to the heart of the movie. For the first hour we're basically hanging around with these girls as they yip and yap at art school, on the train, in the hotel ,and at an outdoor festival. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I actually gave a shit about them but I didn't. I realize these are expendable characters, but the director (Eli Roth) should have at least made an attempt to give me a way to relate to these girls. Maybe one takes care of old people in her spare time and has a heart of gold. Perhaps another takes in stray animals and she's being kicked out her apartment because of it. Something — anything! I figured, if he couldn't be bothered with helping me to identify with them, then I sure as hell couldn't be bothered about them or their fate either. Fuck 'em — let 'em die a horrible death.
The final nail in the coffin, and it pains me greatly to say it, is even the gratuitous nudity, which is staple in these exploitation type films, is junk. The first Hostel, from what I understand, was filled to the brim with tits, ass, and sex. Hostel: Part II has very few scenes of nudity. I was expecting wave after luscious wave of European hotties baring it all for my enjoyment. Yet, instead of being dished a healthy dose of the female anatomy, I was instead given several shots of men in all their glory. This may be good for the sadistic women out there, but not, I repeat, not what I wanted to see. What a huge letdown.
Mostly, Hostel: Part II is major disappointment. I've seen far worse things surfing the web and ending up on sites like Ogrish.com (which surprisingly has cleaned itself up). As a matter of fact, the boredom from the first half of the movie was even more painful to watch than the "horrifying" torture scenes. And now that I've grown a full pair of manly balls, I'm going to rent the first movie just to see what all the fuss was about. I suspect it was over a whole lot of nothing, but it's gotta be better than this.
This writer enjoys candlelit dinners and the fast paced excitement of NASCAR. Additional reviews can be found at The Critical Critics.
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Friday, June 1st, 2007
With all the celebrities that have been behaving badly lately, it’s really refreshing to see on that’s doing good – for all the right reasons.
Ben Affleck was the very special commencement speaker at the graduation ceremony for Falls Church High School seniors in Fairfax, Virginia, on Friday.
The actor was there for one special reason, his years-long genuine friendship with 19-year-old Joe Kindregan, an inspiring young man he met almost ten years ago on a film shoot at Dulles International Airport in the D.C. area.
Joe was diagnosed with the degenerative neurological disease ataxia-telangiectasia in 1996.
The two met when the Kindregans came to Dulles to watch a crew shoot the film Forces of Nature, which starred Affleck. Affleck noticed Kindregan in his wheelchair and struck up a conversation.
They have remained close friends since.
“Everything I learned about life that really matters, I learned from Joe,” Affleck told the graduating class.
Kindregan introduced Affleck to the audience by saying “He is married to the cutest girl (Jennifer Garner) … but most important he is the best friend you could ever have.”
Garner was also in attendance for the big day on Friday.
Congrats to Joe and all the graduates!
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After his parents are killed, young Hannibal and his sister, Mischa, are held prisoner by a roving pack of would-be Nazis. Things get desperate for the men and their captives. So desperate in fact, that the group has to resort to cannibalism as a means to stay alive. Of course this not only develops Hannibal's taste for flesh but also drives him a bit mad. Fast forward a few years. Hannibal (played with much scenery chewing goodness by Gaspard Ulliel) sets out on his own to find the men who held him and his sister hostage way back when. What follows is your standard revenge tale which — dare I say it — lacks any real bite. 
Now let's talk about the word. You see it there in those enticing red letters. Unrated. Could there have been a bit more meat to pick at that the MPAA wisely shielded us from? Maybe the presence of a little more grue could make this predominantly boring and flaccid piece of unnecessary fiction go down a bit easier. Guess what? We get nothing. Not a single extra drop of blood. Just a few more minutes of exposition. Thanks. Appreciate that. Why not just include a coupon for sleeping pills as a DVD extra?
