Dreamland Trailer — Miles Joris-Peyrafitte‘s Dreamland (2019) movie trailer has been released by Paramount Pictures and stars Margot Robbie, Finn Cole, Travis Fimmel, Garrett Hedlund, Kerry Condon, Darby Camp, Lola Kirke, Jacob Browne, Bruce McIntosh, Joe Berryman, Tim D. Janis, Hans Christopher, and Krista Bradley. Crew Nicolaas Zwart wrote the screenplay [...]
Continue reading: Dreamland (2019) Movie Trailer: Margot Robbie is a Wanted Fugitive that Finn Cole Hides out of Affection...
Continue reading: Dreamland (2019) Movie Trailer: Margot Robbie is a Wanted Fugitive that Finn Cole Hides out of Affection...
- 10/24/2020
- by Rollo Tomasi
- Film-Book
Exclusive: Concord’s Film & TV unit has teamed with Pose and Vikings executive producer Sherry Marsh of Marsh Entertainment as well as Jane the Virgin executive producer Jorge Granier of Aquarius Pictures and Sergio Pizzolante (Nicky Jam: El Ganador) to develop a scripted film and/or television project about the history of Fania Records, the label that popularized salsa music. Concord’s Sophia Dilley and Fania’s Bruce McIntosh will co-developing the project and serving as executive producers.
Founded by Johnny Pacheco and Jerry Masucci, New York-based Fania Records is considered by many to be “the Motown of Latin Music.” It flourished from the late 1960s to the mid-’80s, becoming highly influential both musically and culturally. The label spread the sound of salsa music from the clubs of New York City to the rest of the world and became a revered global brand in the process.
Fania created...
Founded by Johnny Pacheco and Jerry Masucci, New York-based Fania Records is considered by many to be “the Motown of Latin Music.” It flourished from the late 1960s to the mid-’80s, becoming highly influential both musically and culturally. The label spread the sound of salsa music from the clubs of New York City to the rest of the world and became a revered global brand in the process.
Fania created...
- 10/7/2019
- by Erik Pedersen and Nellie Andreeva
- Deadline Film + TV
Yet another entry in this season's "Twilight Zone-d" perception-vs.-reality marathon (see also "K-PAX" and the upcoming "Vanilla Sky" and "A Beautiful Mind"), the Campbell Scott-directed "Final" has Denis Leary playing a confined hospital patient who is convinced that he recently awoke from a cryogenic deep freeze. The results are more lifeless than chilling.
With its contained, clinically sterile environment and extremely limited scene-changing, the production has the feel of an off-off-Broadway two-hander rather than a feature film, and Scott's resolutely purposeful directing style doesn't exactly help matters.
The reality of the situation is that the Lions Gate and Cowboy Pictures release will actually be spending less time in theaters than that which is perceived to have elapsed while sitting through it.
Here we have Leary cracking wise but essentially serious as the sole occupant of a cell-like observation room in a small Connecticut hospital.
He is paid frequent visits by his doctor (Hope Davis), who's having trouble freeing her patient of his persistent disorientation -- namely, that he believes he was cryogenically frozen in 1999 and has awakened several centuries later and is about to be administered a final injection in connection with something involving donor organ packets.
The truth according to Davis, meanwhile, is that Leary crashed his pickup truck and had recently emerged from a coma, but the time was still very much the present.
The two proceed to engage in a laborious game of cat and mouse, and the only element of surprise here is trying to figure out exactly when the so-called surprise twist is going to be revealed.
By the time that moment arrives, Scott, who is the sole occupant of the director's chair here after having shared the credit with others on "Big Night" and "Hamlet", has sedated the viewer into heavy-lidded submission with an overdose of antiseptic atmosphere.
Even his frequent cutaways to glimpses of Leary flashbacks prove to be more annoying than revealing.
More problematic is that while Leary might have a certain light comedic appeal as an actor, he lacks the dramatic depth necessary to pull off the layers of his is-he-or-isn't-he character.
Davis' role, to a lesser extent, could have stood a little more complexity, especially when it appears she is starting to fall for her patient, but those limitations might also be attributed to Bruce McIntosh's one-note scripting.
Tech credits are effectively spare, though composer Guy Davis' highly symbolic solo blues guitar riffs cry out for a little accompaniment.
FINAL
Lions Gate Films and Cowboy Pictures
The Independent Film Channel
presents an InDigEnt production
in association with Spare Room Prods.
Director: Campbell Scott
Screenwriter: Bruce McIntosh
Producers: Gary Winick, Alexis Alexanian, Mary Frances Budig, Steve Dunn, Campbell Scott
Executive producers: Jonathan Sehring, Caroline Kaplan, John Sloss
Director of photography: Dan Gillham
Production designer: Chris Shriver
Editor: Andy Keir
Costume designer: Toni Fusco
Music: Guy Davis
Music supervisor: Linda Cohen
Color/stereo
Cast:
Bill: Denis Leary
Ann: Hope Davis
Todd: J.C. MacKenzie
Dayton: Jim Gaffigan
Sherry: Marin Hinkle
Running time -- 111 minutes
No MPAA rating...
With its contained, clinically sterile environment and extremely limited scene-changing, the production has the feel of an off-off-Broadway two-hander rather than a feature film, and Scott's resolutely purposeful directing style doesn't exactly help matters.
The reality of the situation is that the Lions Gate and Cowboy Pictures release will actually be spending less time in theaters than that which is perceived to have elapsed while sitting through it.
Here we have Leary cracking wise but essentially serious as the sole occupant of a cell-like observation room in a small Connecticut hospital.
He is paid frequent visits by his doctor (Hope Davis), who's having trouble freeing her patient of his persistent disorientation -- namely, that he believes he was cryogenically frozen in 1999 and has awakened several centuries later and is about to be administered a final injection in connection with something involving donor organ packets.
The truth according to Davis, meanwhile, is that Leary crashed his pickup truck and had recently emerged from a coma, but the time was still very much the present.
The two proceed to engage in a laborious game of cat and mouse, and the only element of surprise here is trying to figure out exactly when the so-called surprise twist is going to be revealed.
By the time that moment arrives, Scott, who is the sole occupant of the director's chair here after having shared the credit with others on "Big Night" and "Hamlet", has sedated the viewer into heavy-lidded submission with an overdose of antiseptic atmosphere.
Even his frequent cutaways to glimpses of Leary flashbacks prove to be more annoying than revealing.
More problematic is that while Leary might have a certain light comedic appeal as an actor, he lacks the dramatic depth necessary to pull off the layers of his is-he-or-isn't-he character.
Davis' role, to a lesser extent, could have stood a little more complexity, especially when it appears she is starting to fall for her patient, but those limitations might also be attributed to Bruce McIntosh's one-note scripting.
Tech credits are effectively spare, though composer Guy Davis' highly symbolic solo blues guitar riffs cry out for a little accompaniment.
FINAL
Lions Gate Films and Cowboy Pictures
The Independent Film Channel
presents an InDigEnt production
in association with Spare Room Prods.
Director: Campbell Scott
Screenwriter: Bruce McIntosh
Producers: Gary Winick, Alexis Alexanian, Mary Frances Budig, Steve Dunn, Campbell Scott
Executive producers: Jonathan Sehring, Caroline Kaplan, John Sloss
Director of photography: Dan Gillham
Production designer: Chris Shriver
Editor: Andy Keir
Costume designer: Toni Fusco
Music: Guy Davis
Music supervisor: Linda Cohen
Color/stereo
Cast:
Bill: Denis Leary
Ann: Hope Davis
Todd: J.C. MacKenzie
Dayton: Jim Gaffigan
Sherry: Marin Hinkle
Running time -- 111 minutes
No MPAA rating...
Yet another entry in this season's "Twilight Zone-d" perception-vs.-reality marathon (see also "K-PAX" and the upcoming "Vanilla Sky" and "A Beautiful Mind"), the Campbell Scott-directed "Final" has Denis Leary playing a confined hospital patient who is convinced that he recently awoke from a cryogenic deep freeze. The results are more lifeless than chilling.
With its contained, clinically sterile environment and extremely limited scene-changing, the production has the feel of an off-off-Broadway two-hander rather than a feature film, and Scott's resolutely purposeful directing style doesn't exactly help matters.
The reality of the situation is that the Lions Gate and Cowboy Pictures release will actually be spending less time in theaters than that which is perceived to have elapsed while sitting through it.
Here we have Leary cracking wise but essentially serious as the sole occupant of a cell-like observation room in a small Connecticut hospital.
He is paid frequent visits by his doctor (Hope Davis), who's having trouble freeing her patient of his persistent disorientation -- namely, that he believes he was cryogenically frozen in 1999 and has awakened several centuries later and is about to be administered a final injection in connection with something involving donor organ packets.
The truth according to Davis, meanwhile, is that Leary crashed his pickup truck and had recently emerged from a coma, but the time was still very much the present.
The two proceed to engage in a laborious game of cat and mouse, and the only element of surprise here is trying to figure out exactly when the so-called surprise twist is going to be revealed.
By the time that moment arrives, Scott, who is the sole occupant of the director's chair here after having shared the credit with others on "Big Night" and "Hamlet", has sedated the viewer into heavy-lidded submission with an overdose of antiseptic atmosphere.
Even his frequent cutaways to glimpses of Leary flashbacks prove to be more annoying than revealing.
More problematic is that while Leary might have a certain light comedic appeal as an actor, he lacks the dramatic depth necessary to pull off the layers of his is-he-or-isn't-he character.
Davis' role, to a lesser extent, could have stood a little more complexity, especially when it appears she is starting to fall for her patient, but those limitations might also be attributed to Bruce McIntosh's one-note scripting.
Tech credits are effectively spare, though composer Guy Davis' highly symbolic solo blues guitar riffs cry out for a little accompaniment.
FINAL
Lions Gate Films and Cowboy Pictures
The Independent Film Channel
presents an InDigEnt production
in association with Spare Room Prods.
Director: Campbell Scott
Screenwriter: Bruce McIntosh
Producers: Gary Winick, Alexis Alexanian, Mary Frances Budig, Steve Dunn, Campbell Scott
Executive producers: Jonathan Sehring, Caroline Kaplan, John Sloss
Director of photography: Dan Gillham
Production designer: Chris Shriver
Editor: Andy Keir
Costume designer: Toni Fusco
Music: Guy Davis
Music supervisor: Linda Cohen
Color/stereo
Cast:
Bill: Denis Leary
Ann: Hope Davis
Todd: J.C. MacKenzie
Dayton: Jim Gaffigan
Sherry: Marin Hinkle
Running time -- 111 minutes
No MPAA rating...
With its contained, clinically sterile environment and extremely limited scene-changing, the production has the feel of an off-off-Broadway two-hander rather than a feature film, and Scott's resolutely purposeful directing style doesn't exactly help matters.
The reality of the situation is that the Lions Gate and Cowboy Pictures release will actually be spending less time in theaters than that which is perceived to have elapsed while sitting through it.
Here we have Leary cracking wise but essentially serious as the sole occupant of a cell-like observation room in a small Connecticut hospital.
He is paid frequent visits by his doctor (Hope Davis), who's having trouble freeing her patient of his persistent disorientation -- namely, that he believes he was cryogenically frozen in 1999 and has awakened several centuries later and is about to be administered a final injection in connection with something involving donor organ packets.
The truth according to Davis, meanwhile, is that Leary crashed his pickup truck and had recently emerged from a coma, but the time was still very much the present.
The two proceed to engage in a laborious game of cat and mouse, and the only element of surprise here is trying to figure out exactly when the so-called surprise twist is going to be revealed.
By the time that moment arrives, Scott, who is the sole occupant of the director's chair here after having shared the credit with others on "Big Night" and "Hamlet", has sedated the viewer into heavy-lidded submission with an overdose of antiseptic atmosphere.
Even his frequent cutaways to glimpses of Leary flashbacks prove to be more annoying than revealing.
More problematic is that while Leary might have a certain light comedic appeal as an actor, he lacks the dramatic depth necessary to pull off the layers of his is-he-or-isn't-he character.
Davis' role, to a lesser extent, could have stood a little more complexity, especially when it appears she is starting to fall for her patient, but those limitations might also be attributed to Bruce McIntosh's one-note scripting.
Tech credits are effectively spare, though composer Guy Davis' highly symbolic solo blues guitar riffs cry out for a little accompaniment.
FINAL
Lions Gate Films and Cowboy Pictures
The Independent Film Channel
presents an InDigEnt production
in association with Spare Room Prods.
Director: Campbell Scott
Screenwriter: Bruce McIntosh
Producers: Gary Winick, Alexis Alexanian, Mary Frances Budig, Steve Dunn, Campbell Scott
Executive producers: Jonathan Sehring, Caroline Kaplan, John Sloss
Director of photography: Dan Gillham
Production designer: Chris Shriver
Editor: Andy Keir
Costume designer: Toni Fusco
Music: Guy Davis
Music supervisor: Linda Cohen
Color/stereo
Cast:
Bill: Denis Leary
Ann: Hope Davis
Todd: J.C. MacKenzie
Dayton: Jim Gaffigan
Sherry: Marin Hinkle
Running time -- 111 minutes
No MPAA rating...
- 12/7/2001
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Having recently received its world premiere at the inaugural Hollywood Film Festival, "Cadillac" is a good-looking, sensitively directed drama that ultimately can't transcend its stagy, talky script.
In his sophomore effort, young filmmaker Andrew Frank ("Friends & Enemies") brings an assured, refined touch to the portrait of three old high school buddies who have finally hit a crossroads in their shared state of prolonged adolescence.
Now in their mid-30s, the obnoxious Todd (Taylor Nichols), a successful commercial realtor, and Michael (Daniel Roebuck), a nice-guy employee for a computer-software firm, would appear to lead normal lives.
But they have a constant reminder of a serious screw-up in the person of Jimmy (Lenny Von Dohlen), a piece of damaged goods who holes himself up in Todd's garage obsessively trying to resuscitate his 1970 Cadillac and desperately clinging to long-gone ideals.
It turns out Jimmy spent a year in a psychiatric hospital following a very bad acid trip at the hands of his two buddies. The subsequent years of pent-up, unspoken guilt have taken their toll on the trio and are about to be confronted in one big, soul-cleansing blowout.
Frank's cast -- also including Stephanie Romanov as Todd's harassed fiancee, Kathy; Traci Lind as Jimmy's disastrous blind date, Missy; and Annabelle Gurwitch as Michael's friend, Renee -- delivers earnest, committed performances, though Von Dohlen's wounded-rabbit interpretation borders perilously on parody.
Not that he's fully to blame, given Bruce McIntosh's overwritten, dramatically static script that fails to deliver satisfactorily on its deep, dark secret of a buildup. It's too bad, because Frank manages to put a lot of polish on an obviously modest budget. He's handsomely assisted in that accomplishment by DP Maximo Munzi and composer Alan Williams, not to mention enough nostalgic hits from the '70s and '80s to fill a soundtrack album.
CADILLAC
Moonshadow Entertainment
Director Andrew Frank
Screenwriter Bruce McIntosh
Producer Andrew Frank
Executive producers Martin Frank, Lorraine Rasmussen
Director of photography Maximo Munzi
Production designer Anna Gadsby
Editor Stephen Myers
Costume designer Lynn Bernay
Music Alan Williams
Color/stereo
Cast:
Jimmy Lenny Von Dohlen
Todd Taylor Nichols
Mike Daniel Roebuck
Missy Traci Lind
Renee Annabelle Gurwitch
Kathy Stephanie Romanov
Running time -- 93 minutes
No MPAA rating...
In his sophomore effort, young filmmaker Andrew Frank ("Friends & Enemies") brings an assured, refined touch to the portrait of three old high school buddies who have finally hit a crossroads in their shared state of prolonged adolescence.
Now in their mid-30s, the obnoxious Todd (Taylor Nichols), a successful commercial realtor, and Michael (Daniel Roebuck), a nice-guy employee for a computer-software firm, would appear to lead normal lives.
But they have a constant reminder of a serious screw-up in the person of Jimmy (Lenny Von Dohlen), a piece of damaged goods who holes himself up in Todd's garage obsessively trying to resuscitate his 1970 Cadillac and desperately clinging to long-gone ideals.
It turns out Jimmy spent a year in a psychiatric hospital following a very bad acid trip at the hands of his two buddies. The subsequent years of pent-up, unspoken guilt have taken their toll on the trio and are about to be confronted in one big, soul-cleansing blowout.
Frank's cast -- also including Stephanie Romanov as Todd's harassed fiancee, Kathy; Traci Lind as Jimmy's disastrous blind date, Missy; and Annabelle Gurwitch as Michael's friend, Renee -- delivers earnest, committed performances, though Von Dohlen's wounded-rabbit interpretation borders perilously on parody.
Not that he's fully to blame, given Bruce McIntosh's overwritten, dramatically static script that fails to deliver satisfactorily on its deep, dark secret of a buildup. It's too bad, because Frank manages to put a lot of polish on an obviously modest budget. He's handsomely assisted in that accomplishment by DP Maximo Munzi and composer Alan Williams, not to mention enough nostalgic hits from the '70s and '80s to fill a soundtrack album.
CADILLAC
Moonshadow Entertainment
Director Andrew Frank
Screenwriter Bruce McIntosh
Producer Andrew Frank
Executive producers Martin Frank, Lorraine Rasmussen
Director of photography Maximo Munzi
Production designer Anna Gadsby
Editor Stephen Myers
Costume designer Lynn Bernay
Music Alan Williams
Color/stereo
Cast:
Jimmy Lenny Von Dohlen
Todd Taylor Nichols
Mike Daniel Roebuck
Missy Traci Lind
Renee Annabelle Gurwitch
Kathy Stephanie Romanov
Running time -- 93 minutes
No MPAA rating...
- 10/24/1997
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
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