And I didn’t even know it until I heard ‘Strange Overtones’ on the radio and somehow connected the dots. This album just made Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (2010) a hell of a lot better; talk about being suited to a film. And as a stand-alone album, oh yes.
It’s time to reavulate the sequel to Gekko. For the second time.
Tell you what, this wasn’t bad at all and I usually can’t stand Depp.
He is on a short leash here, and Frank Langella gives perhaps the best creepy phone performance (mostly) ever.
It’s got this low-key, slow-burning atmosphere that is bizarrely twinned, somehow to effect, with intentional comedy deriving from awkward social and professional interactions, and I know all about those for they happen every hour. Despite the supernatural elements, they are cloaked in a story that works as a basic thriller.
And the score by Wojciech Kilar. Listen to this and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) for a double bill.
Further reading:
Does it still hold up? Did it ever?
The antics of the Pythons have in recent years been wholly irritating, with their pointless TV travelogues and various silly projects, clearly living off past glories. But this has 97% on Rotten Tomatoes. It must count for something.
Oh dear, a pretty daft excuse for a feature-length movie, this was just boring. So smug, and vexingly self-referential in its desperation for laughs, sketches went on and on and I couldn’t cope anymore so turned it off. The impression I got was of a bunch of very lucky big babies with a budget.
It’s not funny at all.
The reasons multiple, I put off watching this for a long time.
My two cents:
Again, the needy references to superior fare, the sheer desperation of bad writing, the mindless action with seemingly nothing at stake.
The ‘characters’ here buy the premise so instantly that you’re immediately questioning their validity, and as they have no dimensions it’s doubly irritating. They are chucked into unimaginative shoot-outs from the get-go. Who are these people? No idea, so I don’t care. There’s an antagonist who is as threatening as a poodle slurping a bowl of Bacardi Breezer, a hero sent from the future who is just plain dull, and Linda Hamilton looks more bored than I was watching her being bored.
I got to 48 mins. I couldn’t take any more torture and turned it off before Arnie arrived. So boring, so without logic or merit, so pedestrian on every level. This has to be the end of this extended shower of shit.
No more.
A surprise.
If you wish to see a labyrinth of corporate greed which the financial lay person (me being one of them) can almost understand, then this is one limited series for you.
It’s an addiction. And this is in spite of the cringe slow-motion visuals every other minute of a Madoff doppelgänger circling his office with the same rictus grin, a “financial serial killer” in his element.
As a history lesson, it’s impeccable, and none of the willing participants are let off lightly.
It’s entirely and totally unnecessary, and the only explanation I can find for it is that it’s a relatively inexperienced director without the confidence to let his characters demonstrate what he’s trying to get across; they even do this without the voice-over.
It’s the single most pointless use of a character’s narration ever, yet the film succeeds despite of it. That’s the sign of a great movie.
And what the hell happened to Tom Berenger? He should have graduated to the status of a menacing Paul Newman, or at least a top-drawer character actor. But he didn’t.
Beguiling.
I don’t care what anyone says, this movie is entertaining as hell and that’s all that matters.
Aye, it’s a pile of shite but it knows it’s a pile of shite; no one is splitting the atom here and that’s a wise decision considering the ludicrousness of every situation, character, line reading, fight sequences, … everything. A nice wee companion piece to Mortal Kombat (1995), which does take itself seriously, but not too seriously, this movie defines the burgeoning video game era, nonsensical attempts to translate a new(ish) medium to another.
In a way, it wouldn’t survive on its own as a movie; it’s game-dependent in that every facet of it is explained by the game.
Aside from JCVD’s accent.
Further reading:
JCVD is fine here, which I find sort of shocking. He displays levels of vulnerability that Seagal couldn’t even consider. The Brussels lad (I can’t be bothered spelling his name) can act if given the right role.
An intriguing premise that is fulfilled, decent action, JCVD doing the splits for a reason, a slimy Ron Silver, Bruce McGill who seems to be in everything, and two female leads who aren’t annoying.
This was a decent movie.
But not as good as this:
A movie almost unique in its seamless harnessing of script, characterisation, and style, Oldboy (2003) is two-in-one, arthouse and popcorn cinema. Its influence international and far-reaching, one must be conscious of not just lifting a few stand-out scenes for praise, but the corridor scene is immense. Not only did it connote the visual delights of Donkey Kong on the SNES (or is that just me?), it gave a whole new dimension to the sequence shot, one that went beyond just an aesthetic achievement.
No matter how many times I’ve watched this, it still impresses. And that score. Wow.
Bob Hoskins as the criminal parvenu Harold Shand in The Long Good Friday (1980).
A “testicle on legs,” as Pauline Kael once wrote of the lad. An extraordinary performance from a bloke who never gave a bad one despite not a single acting class in his life. He was a born thespian.
Bob Hoskins was quality – even in a Mario Bros. movie.
‘The Yanks love snobbery. They really feel they’ve arrived in England if the upper class treats ’em like shit.’
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 