Turns out Adrien Brody isn’t so much an action hero, as an action anti-hero. He’s rude, stubborn, and cares more about his giant knife than any of the people he finds himself stranded with. On the other hand, none of those things are all that noticeable, since that description fits pretty much all of the characters in the film.
Once there was an animated series called Avatar: The Last Airbender. Thanks to James Cameron, no one can use the name Avatar anymore, so we’re stuck with the subtitle. I haven’t had cable in years, so I didn’t know the series existed myself until I started seeing all this buzz. M. Night Shyamalan likes to keep us all on our toes with his choices of subject, apparently. His last name, in case you’re wondering, is pronounced “sir”, because on the billion to one chance I ever meet him, that’s what I’m going to call him. I hear he gets mad if you mispronounce his name.
I went to see a movie this weekend, really. It was only 80 minutes long, but it was still a movie. But it was just kind of… there. I watched, I understood what was going on — not that it was difficult — but afterwards most of it started drifting slowly out of my head. It’ll never reach the point of that movie whose title I can never remember, because at least it had some visually interesting moments, but I’m still left wondering exactly what I paid $7.50 to see.
I have a new plan. A cunning plan, even. I’m going to start watching and reviewing every TV show or movie from the 1980’s that was ever considered financially successful and/or a cult classic. Then, when someone gets around to remaking, say, Airplane! or Night Court for the big screen, all I have to do is change the actors’ names and maybe a few other details, and my review will be all set! It’ll be a huge timesaver, sort of like the way newspapers keep updated obituaries ready for celebrities.
As the credits were rolling and everyone else was scampering to leave the theatre — though they were really short credits, bizarrely, so they almost didn’t have to bother — the woman who’d been sitting two rows behind me said to her friend, “That was so ethically questionable.” She has a point, even though twenty minutes before that she and her friend were both laughing so loudly that anyone happening by would have assumed there was a comedy playing on the screen. Sadly, though, that particular scene did have its laughable aspects, so I can’t entirely blame them.
Thanks to Hollywood’s generosity and thoughtfulness, people like me (who haven’t owned a game console since the Nintendo 64 was the latest thing) can still find out all about the new, hot games — if they’re willing to wait until they’re no longer new and hot, since it takes a while to get one of these movies released, of course. This is one such movie, and apparently the subtitle is important, since The Prince of Persia is apparently quite a different animal than The Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, the second one being the game sequel to the first one.
Continue reading “Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time”
I’ve decided that the Shrek franchise is no longer for kids. Any film that contains the phrase “metaphysical conundrum” is clearly only pretending to be aimed at children. Plus I wasn’t the only adult without a kid in tow, so it’s official.
I — I don’t know where to start. It’s all so strange.
I’m best at the Tudor time period, but I’ve also read a lot about Eleanor of Aquitaine and her sons because — let’s face it — Eleanor was the coolest European noblewoman ever. She told the King of France to take a hike, and he did. Eileen Atkins makes a pretty good Eleanor, don’t get me wrong. The acting’s good all around. But the history. Oh, the history.
The thing about sequels (usually) is that they get more expensive and more outrageous. If you destroy ten cars in the first movie, you have to wreck thirty in the next, and if you make it to four or five, you’re destroying two-thirds of the annual output of Detroit. And the ways in which the cars are wrecked get exponentially weirder. A pile-up on the freeway isn’t enough anymore. A few sequels down the road (so to speak), filmmakers apparently feel required to throw them at airborne helicopters or have them melted down by an erupting volcano or something.