About teenage boys, the virginity they regard as a malediction and their rampaging hormones which get them into sticky situations (no pun intended). My uni friends said it was hilarious and fantastic. Myself and five of my other friends just stared at the screen and wished it was over. A couple of my friends threatened to walk out. This whole film was awful. I don't care if that's truly the way teenage boys think, I think it was insulting, degrading and exploitative of women, not that the female characters in the film were any better. Disgusting and nowhere as funny as it was advertised to be. I've heard that in America burns to sensitive body parts has eventuated because of sex-crazed teenage boys sticking stuff where it doesn't belong. They deserve it and all the humiliation that comes with it. You might say it's the cream on top. Why don't they just pour boiling water on themselves? It sounds like it achieves the same effect.
Reviews
8 Reviews
Deep Blue Sea
(1999)
don't you just love mindless action films??
3 January 2000
When I saw the trailer which had a full-length shot of Saffron Burrows clad in a white underwear bikini I swore I wasn't going to see it. I mean, what plot device or development could possibly call for her to be displayed for the male gaze in such a fashion - in a wild beast film nonetheless! But I eventually saw it. What a film!! Funny because it was so awfully predictable. Basically about a scientist (Burrows) who heightens the intelligence of sharks so she can extract a cure for Alzheimer's Disease from their large brains. (What this really is is a poor reason to have sharks, and not just sharks, but cunning! sharks chasing after the stupid humans). So when during a storm the sharks are freed from their pen the tables are turned and it's now the sharks running around and proving that if you mess with nature it'll backfire in the worst possible way. It follows the formula of ALIENS but while that film had its share of dramatic moments - this doesn't take itself seriously, thank God. A great funny part involves the resident chef trapped in his own oven (oh the irony!!). Worth seeing because it's so hammy and enjoyable.
The Bone Collector
(1999)
formulaic, although well-done, bad ending.
3 January 2000
Someone who drives a taxi with a hanged monkey toy hanging from his rear-vision mirror is killing unsuspecting taxi-riders in the cold streets of New York. His trademark is to leave bones from his victims lying around his crime scene. Enter Angelina Jolie, a rookie cop, who, guided by quadriplegic inspector Washington is sent to scope out the area and let her instincts for forensic investigation run wild. This plays a lot like THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. First you've got the young female investigator fresh out on the streets who must bear the sexist posturing of her male colleagues and who finds it difficult and emotionally trying to stomach the awful crimes which she is trying to understand, however unwillingly. She's also carrying the emotional burden of losing her father, who died in a work-related incident (both fathers play cops). Then you've got the confined genius who provides the brains for the particular operation. And finally the whole overarching story is the same. There's a killer on the loose and in order to trap him the female cop/FBI agent must go through one genius to get to the other (both killers leave 'clues' or signature objects lying around). It's an interesting story. I especially like the scene where Jolie stumbles on the first crime scene which is strewn over a train track. Inevitably a train approaches. Unfazed (only until she stops the train does she let out a breath of relief) she stares down the enormous phallic symbol which screeches to a stop. What a woman! However her bravado is continually undermined throughout the movie by Rooker's incompetent inspector. Gripes about the film - stupid ending. It tries so hard throughout to keep you from guessing the identity of the killer that inevitably no one would guess who it eventually is. And it overstates the case of Washington's transition too much. Would have been better if especially the killer aspect could have been redone.
Three to Tango
(1999)
If you can see how a film is going to end in the trailers then you really shouldn't see it.
3 January 2000
This film explains why lots of TV stars make an unsuccessful transition to film - they not only get offered shoddy projects but then they take them! This is your typical love triangle scenario and even before a synopsis of the plot can finish you know who's going to end up with who. McDermott gets Perry to look after his mistress (Campbell) because he thinks he's gay. They become great friends and soon fall in love, although she thinks he's gay too. Soon it's in the newspapers and Perry has to come clean. The maintaining-the-false-identity or not-being-true-to-yourself storyline seems to be frequented by other members of the FRIENDS crew in their film careers: Jennifer Aniston in PICTURE PERFECT, David Schwimmer in KISSING A FOOL and perhaps even in THE PALLBEARER (I haven't actually seen the latter, although I've heard the plot. I'm probably being heaps presumptuous). Anyway this is a mediocre film because it's so damn predictable. It's only redeeming virtue is its soundtrack, and even then it's only capitalising on the huge success of SWINGERS and its accompanying music. Oliver Platt is wasted. Why is he always delegated the role of the sidekick?
Entrapment
(1999)
the old guy fantasy subtext manages to share the screen with a genuinely good, well-paced action-adventure
3 January 2000
Is this film an illustration of an old guy's fantasy? Not only is he a rich, kind of lonely old guy who lives in a secluded castle, which I think borrows heavily from Connery's previous role as King Arthur of Camelot in FIRST KNIGHT, but he's a thief, abreast of all the latest technological gimmicks great for pulling off heists. He also happens to be saddled with the exquisitely beautiful, and not to mention young Zeta-Jones. The finale is worth the price of admission.
Toy Story 2
(1999)
excellent successor to an already brilliant original, great script, fantastic cast
3 January 2000
This worked for me for three reasons. 1) a great, funny film in itself, 2) I loved TOY STORY, and 3) the trailers ran for three seconds and so didn't give anything away. I also didn't know who would be in it apart from the main characters so it was fun guessing along the way. What is really apparent from watching this film is how far the technology has progressed since TOY STORY. This was already evident in Pixar's more recent offering, A BUG'S LIFE which boasted of great attention to detail and a blooper reel attached to the credits. The first time I saw TOY STORY 2 I caught the reel, but the second time I wasn't so lucky. This has caused a real hoo-ha on Sydney's 2BL 702 and I think it's dodgy and ungenerous (since they're in such a good position) for the distributors to have two different versions floating around. Especially since I saw it for the second time so I could enjoy them all over again. But, on with the film. The fantastic visuals combined with the funny script, STAR WARS references and in-jokes (2 references made to films by Tom Hanks) make this a great sequel which surpasses its predecessor. My favourite part would have to involve the second Buzz Lightyear and that raised eyebrow and megawatt smile of his, the true sign of an American *hero* displayed on publicity posters cracks me up every time. Go Tour Guide Barbie! *How low can you go!!*
The Shawshank Redemption
(1994)
Perfection: hope, emancipation and the inviolability of the human spirit
5 March 1999
The Shawshank Redemption is a wonderful film. It is flawless fundamentally because of its deep love of storytelling, and because underneath each layer of the film lies a whole world of meaning. It has universal appeal and can teach everyone something about the power of hope and the inviolability of the human spirit.
I love this truly inspiring film because of its boldness to persuade people to never give up hope, even in the direst of circumstances. Its audacity can be seen in its choice of setting: in a prison, where hope is fragile and can easily become a casualty. But this situation is readily adaptable to any other. People, habitually, are trapped. Trapped by relationships, fear, responsibilities and their own inadequacies. The prison metaphor just serves to give shape and direction to this feeling of entrapment.
We identify with Red (Morgan Freeman), because Andy (Tim Robbins), for quite a substantial amount of the film, remains an enigmatic and aloof character. But we know that Andy's state of mind and hope is such that it has the potential to transcend prison walls. Metaphorically. Literally. This is explored in the scene where Andy, after spending a fortnight in solitary confinement for sending operatic music resounding through the prison, says the time was easy because he had the music in his head and heart. He notes: `here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget there's something inside that they can't get to, they can't touch, it's yours hope'. Indeed his mental well being is akin to an ideal state, and as such the average audience cannot identify with him. At this stage neither can Red. When Andy gives him the harmonica, a symbol of hope, Red is still not ready to accept it as a means to salvation. However, in the book Red acknowledges that `Andy was the part of me they could never lock up, the part of me that will rejoice when the gates finally open for me and I walk out.'
But Andy is after all only human, and the trials he undergoes makes us deeply sympathetic to his situation. The possibilities that had previously given him hope rapidly erode as the harsh realities of prison life bear down on him. Before he had noted facetiously that a `convicted murderer who provides sound financial planning' was a `wonderful pet to have', but now realizes that the warden and the guards simply and fundamentally, don't care whether he lives or dies, as long as it's on their terms. He acknowledges his only choice left, deceptively elementary but truly universal in scope: `Get busy living or get busy dying'.
This choice is evinced through the character of Brooks. When his parole comes through he sadly frees his bird Jake who flies away, instinct taking over his initial domestication. Brooks is also in a sense a bird, but of a different feather a `jail bird', who is `institutionalised', or domesticated and thus cannot cope with the immensity and the possibilities of mental and spiritual freedom. Walls bind his world, and as such, he cannot bear to live in a world without boundaries. As depicted in this film, prison restrains physical freedom, but ironically enough, its lasting effects restrain the spirit. As Red bitterly notes: `They send you here for life, and that's exactly what they take. The parts that count anyway.'
A wonderful shot of Red near the end sees him narrate that on the outside he feels as scared as Brooks did, and frequently entertains the idea of breaking his parole so he can return to prison, `where things make sense'. The fact that he repeats a lot of Brooks' dialogue shows how close Red came to succumbing, and the strength of Andy's friendship with him. The camera sweeps over a selection of guns, but an array of compasses step into view. Red fingers one and remembers the promise he made to Andy. This signifies an immutable truth: that hope and direction combined can see a man achieve grandeur.
The audience's collective spirit soars with Red who takes Andy's advice, and lets the possibilities of freedom penetrate his self, which is his ultimate redemption. An element of the film surpasses the novella that of the phrase Warden Norton utters to Andy: `Salvation lies within.' This is shown to be wholly accurate on both a metaphorical and literal level.
The film judiciously avoids trying to make the audience sympathise with the other prisoners who are collectively rapists, murderers and deviants. As such, their reason for imprisonment is either humorously blamed on incompetent lawyers or not touched upon at all. This prevents the sympathetic focus straying from Andy and Red; Andy who is innocent and Red who describes himself as the `only guilty man in Shawshank'.
Morgan Freeman is characteristically excellent as he has the ability to effortlessly inject integrity and a noble presence into each of his roles. He should have won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar in 1995. Tim Robbins is sublime, though to a lesser degree than Freeman. Supporting cast is wonderful: James Whitmore's poignant representation of Brooks, Bob Gunton's anal-retentive Warden Norton, Gil Bellows' cocky but well-intentioned Tommy Williams. William Sadler and Clancy Brown are also strong.
One tagline of the film descriptive of Andy is `It takes a strong man to save himself, and a great man to save another.' In King's novella Red describes Andy through bird imagery, repeating the motif associated with Brooks: `We're glad he's gone, but a little sad too. Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.' Not so for Red, however. His last words `I hope.' are testament to this.
I love this truly inspiring film because of its boldness to persuade people to never give up hope, even in the direst of circumstances. Its audacity can be seen in its choice of setting: in a prison, where hope is fragile and can easily become a casualty. But this situation is readily adaptable to any other. People, habitually, are trapped. Trapped by relationships, fear, responsibilities and their own inadequacies. The prison metaphor just serves to give shape and direction to this feeling of entrapment.
We identify with Red (Morgan Freeman), because Andy (Tim Robbins), for quite a substantial amount of the film, remains an enigmatic and aloof character. But we know that Andy's state of mind and hope is such that it has the potential to transcend prison walls. Metaphorically. Literally. This is explored in the scene where Andy, after spending a fortnight in solitary confinement for sending operatic music resounding through the prison, says the time was easy because he had the music in his head and heart. He notes: `here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget there's something inside that they can't get to, they can't touch, it's yours hope'. Indeed his mental well being is akin to an ideal state, and as such the average audience cannot identify with him. At this stage neither can Red. When Andy gives him the harmonica, a symbol of hope, Red is still not ready to accept it as a means to salvation. However, in the book Red acknowledges that `Andy was the part of me they could never lock up, the part of me that will rejoice when the gates finally open for me and I walk out.'
But Andy is after all only human, and the trials he undergoes makes us deeply sympathetic to his situation. The possibilities that had previously given him hope rapidly erode as the harsh realities of prison life bear down on him. Before he had noted facetiously that a `convicted murderer who provides sound financial planning' was a `wonderful pet to have', but now realizes that the warden and the guards simply and fundamentally, don't care whether he lives or dies, as long as it's on their terms. He acknowledges his only choice left, deceptively elementary but truly universal in scope: `Get busy living or get busy dying'.
This choice is evinced through the character of Brooks. When his parole comes through he sadly frees his bird Jake who flies away, instinct taking over his initial domestication. Brooks is also in a sense a bird, but of a different feather a `jail bird', who is `institutionalised', or domesticated and thus cannot cope with the immensity and the possibilities of mental and spiritual freedom. Walls bind his world, and as such, he cannot bear to live in a world without boundaries. As depicted in this film, prison restrains physical freedom, but ironically enough, its lasting effects restrain the spirit. As Red bitterly notes: `They send you here for life, and that's exactly what they take. The parts that count anyway.'
A wonderful shot of Red near the end sees him narrate that on the outside he feels as scared as Brooks did, and frequently entertains the idea of breaking his parole so he can return to prison, `where things make sense'. The fact that he repeats a lot of Brooks' dialogue shows how close Red came to succumbing, and the strength of Andy's friendship with him. The camera sweeps over a selection of guns, but an array of compasses step into view. Red fingers one and remembers the promise he made to Andy. This signifies an immutable truth: that hope and direction combined can see a man achieve grandeur.
The audience's collective spirit soars with Red who takes Andy's advice, and lets the possibilities of freedom penetrate his self, which is his ultimate redemption. An element of the film surpasses the novella that of the phrase Warden Norton utters to Andy: `Salvation lies within.' This is shown to be wholly accurate on both a metaphorical and literal level.
The film judiciously avoids trying to make the audience sympathise with the other prisoners who are collectively rapists, murderers and deviants. As such, their reason for imprisonment is either humorously blamed on incompetent lawyers or not touched upon at all. This prevents the sympathetic focus straying from Andy and Red; Andy who is innocent and Red who describes himself as the `only guilty man in Shawshank'.
Morgan Freeman is characteristically excellent as he has the ability to effortlessly inject integrity and a noble presence into each of his roles. He should have won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar in 1995. Tim Robbins is sublime, though to a lesser degree than Freeman. Supporting cast is wonderful: James Whitmore's poignant representation of Brooks, Bob Gunton's anal-retentive Warden Norton, Gil Bellows' cocky but well-intentioned Tommy Williams. William Sadler and Clancy Brown are also strong.
One tagline of the film descriptive of Andy is `It takes a strong man to save himself, and a great man to save another.' In King's novella Red describes Andy through bird imagery, repeating the motif associated with Brooks: `We're glad he's gone, but a little sad too. Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.' Not so for Red, however. His last words `I hope.' are testament to this.
Contact
(1997)
Absolutely brilliant; unequivocally, completely amazing in every way.
23 February 1999
N.B: This is a very long monologue because I adore CONTACT to bits.
I loved the irony present in Contact, as well as its religious imagery and its attention to fine detail. To see the universe in that opening scene was breath-taking, and the reason for it all coming out of Ellie's eye becomes blissfully apparent in light of the end, for her journey was just as much a physical as well as an emotional and spiritual one. The photography was superb, alternating between expansive sweeps of the landscape and the universe, and close, intimate shots of the characters, symbolising the potential for the unknown' as well as an equally important knowledge of all that is familiar contact with our own people.
The irony manifested itself in how Ellie, who denounced Palmer's ability to possess complete faith in God, ended up being the advocate of such a faith, though of a different strand; she could now appreciate Palmer's passion. Remember that Biblical verse that when paraphrased reads something like: `The man who is not willing to give up his life will lose it, but he who is willing will gain it'? This religious imagery correlates to how Drumlin lost his life in pursuit of personal acclaim, while Ellie, who admitted that she would freely give up her life in pursuit of life's tormenting questions, gained it in such a memorable and satisfying way. She found inner peace, having made contact with two intelligent races; one of the skies, and one of her own kind. The dried up cliché alluding to aliens: `We are not alone' begins to take on a new meaning in a multitude of dimensions in light of this brilliant movie.
I read this wonderful blurb' about Contact, and I think this following line delineates the film, and why watching Contact became such a defining film for me: `[Ellie's] personal voyage will take her beyond theory, beyond knowledge , beyond experience, to the realization that true vision is ultimately the union of fact and faith.' This duality of life and true fulfilment which arises from the reconcilement of contrary beliefs is surely a theme of the film: evinced through the conflict created by science vs. religion, fact vs. faith, vision vs. reality.
Carl Sagan's novel was also a fulfilling pleasure to read. I thought that the message in pi was an absolutely crucial element of the book, the implications of such a message being that there is an all-powerful force' behind the universe, which brings order to disorder, and such a force' we might call God. So possibly, C.S's novel did prove the existence of God. Maybe the recurring C' pattern in the film, (the quadruple' system Ellie saw near Vega, the sands in her father's hands and that which she holds in the end), is indicative of such order that no matter how large or small an event, i.e, whether a message is written in the sky or in the palm of one's hands, order is present, and implies a powerful force guiding the universe.
I am incapable of seeing many, if any, faults with this film I truly cannot understand why anyone would think it contrived or the same as something as brain-numbing and gung-ho as `Armageddon'. It is truly an intellectual film with meanings at many levels and so thought-provoking! Perhaps Matthew McConaughey's representation of Palmer Joss was a little unbelievable, and the thrice-repeated `It's an awful waste of space' phrase that connected Ellie to her father and Ellie to Palmer can be seen as a tad too sentimental on the one hand, but on the other, it serves to punctuate the potentiality of the physical universe, and the human mind, which, in C.S's case, conceived this book. Jodie Foster is magnificent, but then again, isn't she always? The extraordinary passion Ellie exhibited was admirable her innate sense of wonder balanced by a stabbing loneliness, born out of the premature departure of a dear parent.
I love Contact because of its poignant humanity, the sense of wonder that resonates so strongly throughout the film and indicates the strength of that wonder which inspired C.S in the first place, and because it searches for meaning so idealistically, while still, necessarily, maintaining the sometimes harsh realities of life (personified by James Woods' unsympathetic and skeptical Kitz).
To those who hated the ending, you obviously missed a crucial component of the film, that of possibility and potentiality. To have Ellie return with tangible evidence of alien existence would demolish all the credibility that Robert Zemeckis attempted to create by showing the current American president referring generically to the event of the message being discovered, the decision to build the machine, etc. The ending was crafted in such a way as to enable a choice by the viewer/reader to be made just like how C.S equally respected those in his book who chose to pursue a path of science or religion. We, the audience, are allowed to decide what really happened, and this makes Contact an almost interactive and therefore a more intimate experience.
Contact has something to say to everyone, and has real meaning that cannot help but whisk viewers and readers alike to some thrilling place. To those who thought the film predictable, and had not previously read the book, I would say that you must be VERY creative if you managed to anticipate all that Contact had to offer. But for everyone who was as much inspired by this magnificent film as I was, here's the most important lesson to be derived from both the book and the film: `For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.' This enlightened message, dreamt up by Carl Sagan, makes me even more convinced that a book critic who said of Carl Sagan: `with terrestrials like him, who needs extras?' is exactly right.
I loved the irony present in Contact, as well as its religious imagery and its attention to fine detail. To see the universe in that opening scene was breath-taking, and the reason for it all coming out of Ellie's eye becomes blissfully apparent in light of the end, for her journey was just as much a physical as well as an emotional and spiritual one. The photography was superb, alternating between expansive sweeps of the landscape and the universe, and close, intimate shots of the characters, symbolising the potential for the unknown' as well as an equally important knowledge of all that is familiar contact with our own people.
The irony manifested itself in how Ellie, who denounced Palmer's ability to possess complete faith in God, ended up being the advocate of such a faith, though of a different strand; she could now appreciate Palmer's passion. Remember that Biblical verse that when paraphrased reads something like: `The man who is not willing to give up his life will lose it, but he who is willing will gain it'? This religious imagery correlates to how Drumlin lost his life in pursuit of personal acclaim, while Ellie, who admitted that she would freely give up her life in pursuit of life's tormenting questions, gained it in such a memorable and satisfying way. She found inner peace, having made contact with two intelligent races; one of the skies, and one of her own kind. The dried up cliché alluding to aliens: `We are not alone' begins to take on a new meaning in a multitude of dimensions in light of this brilliant movie.
I read this wonderful blurb' about Contact, and I think this following line delineates the film, and why watching Contact became such a defining film for me: `[Ellie's] personal voyage will take her beyond theory, beyond knowledge , beyond experience, to the realization that true vision is ultimately the union of fact and faith.' This duality of life and true fulfilment which arises from the reconcilement of contrary beliefs is surely a theme of the film: evinced through the conflict created by science vs. religion, fact vs. faith, vision vs. reality.
Carl Sagan's novel was also a fulfilling pleasure to read. I thought that the message in pi was an absolutely crucial element of the book, the implications of such a message being that there is an all-powerful force' behind the universe, which brings order to disorder, and such a force' we might call God. So possibly, C.S's novel did prove the existence of God. Maybe the recurring C' pattern in the film, (the quadruple' system Ellie saw near Vega, the sands in her father's hands and that which she holds in the end), is indicative of such order that no matter how large or small an event, i.e, whether a message is written in the sky or in the palm of one's hands, order is present, and implies a powerful force guiding the universe.
I am incapable of seeing many, if any, faults with this film I truly cannot understand why anyone would think it contrived or the same as something as brain-numbing and gung-ho as `Armageddon'. It is truly an intellectual film with meanings at many levels and so thought-provoking! Perhaps Matthew McConaughey's representation of Palmer Joss was a little unbelievable, and the thrice-repeated `It's an awful waste of space' phrase that connected Ellie to her father and Ellie to Palmer can be seen as a tad too sentimental on the one hand, but on the other, it serves to punctuate the potentiality of the physical universe, and the human mind, which, in C.S's case, conceived this book. Jodie Foster is magnificent, but then again, isn't she always? The extraordinary passion Ellie exhibited was admirable her innate sense of wonder balanced by a stabbing loneliness, born out of the premature departure of a dear parent.
I love Contact because of its poignant humanity, the sense of wonder that resonates so strongly throughout the film and indicates the strength of that wonder which inspired C.S in the first place, and because it searches for meaning so idealistically, while still, necessarily, maintaining the sometimes harsh realities of life (personified by James Woods' unsympathetic and skeptical Kitz).
To those who hated the ending, you obviously missed a crucial component of the film, that of possibility and potentiality. To have Ellie return with tangible evidence of alien existence would demolish all the credibility that Robert Zemeckis attempted to create by showing the current American president referring generically to the event of the message being discovered, the decision to build the machine, etc. The ending was crafted in such a way as to enable a choice by the viewer/reader to be made just like how C.S equally respected those in his book who chose to pursue a path of science or religion. We, the audience, are allowed to decide what really happened, and this makes Contact an almost interactive and therefore a more intimate experience.
Contact has something to say to everyone, and has real meaning that cannot help but whisk viewers and readers alike to some thrilling place. To those who thought the film predictable, and had not previously read the book, I would say that you must be VERY creative if you managed to anticipate all that Contact had to offer. But for everyone who was as much inspired by this magnificent film as I was, here's the most important lesson to be derived from both the book and the film: `For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.' This enlightened message, dreamt up by Carl Sagan, makes me even more convinced that a book critic who said of Carl Sagan: `with terrestrials like him, who needs extras?' is exactly right.
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