Monthly Archives: September 2011

A Week In Film #150: On hols

Norwegian documentary-style trollhunting shenanigans. Well-executed good fun that extends beyond the limitations of The Last Broadcast/Blair Witch Project-style found footage schtick.

Ultimately disappointing reboot of the safari hunting aliens franchise, this time round with a motley crew of killers dropped onto an unknown planet for the sport of vagina-faced extra-terrestrials.

Adrien Brody (what’s with the whole pumped-up look? Some sort of BDD backlash thing?) leads as a one-dimensional mercenary with the most improbable looking movie gun since Men In Black.

Vantage Point
Promises much, delivers short. Dennis Quaid is a Secret Service agent chasing down the terrorist plot to assassinate the US President in real time – half a dozen times in a row.

Interesting technical premise – replaying the same events from a number of different perspectives, each revealing a little more about the plot – but in a bid to hold the audience’s attention, director Pete Travis ends up surrendering to ever more implausible leaps between segments.

A Week In Film #147: That crazy girl

Die Hard
Post-moving comfort food. Noted this time: Paul Gleason’s impeccable timing; wondering why Hart Bochner never made it big; still confused by the angles involved when they take out the LAPD’s RV with the rockets.

Sometimes you end up watching a film and have no idea why. This is one of them – absolutely awful. Icing on the cake? I actually bought it. Paid cash moneys and everything. I think I mistook it for a Michael Biehn film, DeadFall, which is on my MyMovies: Must See list (though that only shaves a .8 improvement on TripFall‘s IMDb score).

Here we have John Ritter and Rachel Hunter as husband-and-wife on vacation in California with their kids who become targets for a crew of white trash kidnappers. Led by Eric Roberts. In baby dreads. With a terrible Southern accent. MBunge’s review somewhat nails it.

Fancied some light entertainment, and this action-comedy creature feature fits the bill admirably. Silly subterranean ‘graboids’ threaten a tiny Nevada township, and only redneck day labourers Fred Ward and Kevin Bacon can save us! A perfect pick-me-up, pretty much fat-free.

The French Connection
The wee man picked this classic off the shelf – good taste, that boy has. Noted this viewing: great score (Don Ellis – see also French Connection II and The Seven-Ups); interesting handwriting by Scheider, Hackman or perhaps some lowly props department shmo; some superb on-location shooting in three of the Five Boroughs.