Articles tagged with: movie reviews
Big Willy unzips his flies and unleashes his Hancock onto the big screen. A long in production project of the former Fresh Prince is an enjoyable if not a bit uneven summer blockbuster. Things start promisingly with Will bucking trend as the foul-mouthed, alcoholic, reluctant superhero Hancock. Jumping straight into an action sequence, the opening is a funny, action-packed start of what seems to be an original take on the currently strong superhero genre. Although it is obviously naive to think that the million dollar man Smith would star in a film as a character with few redeeming features, so the obvious turn around comes with the help of PR guru Ray who, after being saved by Hancock, insists on helping him turn his image around into a loveable crime fighter. Although the path is never smooth, Hancock's attitude turns out not to be the only problem as Mary (Charlize Theron) puts a spanner in the works.
M. Night Shyamalan's latest effort looked to be the return to darker, more suspense filled territory after Lady In The Water drowned with critics and audiences alike.
Unfortunately while the premise suggests that in this film shit happens, we're unhappy to say that, while score one for pun usage, it turns out that Happening's shit.
Forget ‘The’ bands, 2008 is all about ‘Kids’ bands. There’s London electro punks Dead Kids, Floridian indie-meisters Black Kids and New Kids On The Block.
OK, so the latter are reforming and the only time they ever get close to anything to do with kids is probably late at night in tour hotel rooms (changing nappies, obviously, what did you think we meant?) but they still count. Honest.
Returning to Black Kids though - this year is, we’re told, really going to be a big one for them. They’ve already been marked out as ones to watch by the BBC and rock behemoth Rolling Stone, and all this before their debut album has so much as sniffed a shelf.
The record in question, Partie Traumatic, has been produced by indie stalwart and ex-member of Suede Bernard Butler, and will be released on July 7 for your listening pleasure. In the meantime, you can catch the Kids at Glastonbury, T In The Park, and pretty much every other festival this summer before they head back stateside to make more waves.
So you know how you're watching Prison Break and go to make a cup of tea and come back and someone's turned it over to Film 4 and they're showing The Shawshank Redemption again?
No?
Well go and see The Escapist and you might know what we mean.
Talk about your long gestation periods - The Opiates, the third and final album from Swedish collective Anywhen - was originally recorded in 2001, and subject to an extremely limited release in February of that year. So why are we mentioning it now? Well, The Opiates has aged sufficently enough to reach 'lost classic' status, and - following a rediscovery by ex-Japan mastermind David Sylvian - is all set for an updated and expanded re-release, courtesy of some reworking by vocalist Thomas Feiner. Please. Stay where you are. We know the connotations that the term 'lost classic' has - you probably can't help thinking of some scratchy Bob Dylan bootleg heralded as 'the ultimate live experience' or thirty-seven minutes of Syd Barrett farting that some wag has labelled 'a transcendent psychedelic journey lost for several decades'.
Don't let the bookworm prestige of the title or the two-hour plus running time dissuade you from The Kite Runner. It's one of those rare 'issue' films that remains an enticing and emotionally electrifying viewing experience that may restore your faith in cinema after the distracting memory left by that turgid Indiana Jones encounter you had a few weeks back. The story commences in 2000 San Francisco, where a young Afghan writer receives a mysterious phone call from someone in Pakistan telling him that he has a chance to redeem himself.
Cover versions can be tricky little buggers. Rather like movie remakes, they can sometimes surpass the original (Heat), just about offer a flattering copy (The Ring), or completely murder the hell out of the original and leave all fans of it employing small animals to scratch out their eyeballs (Get Carter). Songs are a lot shorter than your average film though, and therefore, should be a lot harder to make a mess of. Although not if you’re Mark Ronson, whose grindingly shit (and admittedly incredibly successful) take on covers involves simply a jaunty rhythm and a trumpet. Again. And. Again.
Anyway, whatever the failings of the twat in the hat, you surely can’t go wrong with an album packed full of Bob Dylan belters can you? Well, maybe in some ways you can.
Any film that has the balls to cast the usually well-versed and impeccably attired Peter Bowles as a lumbering, foul-mouthed, pot-smoking, cockneyfied old timer deserves some credit. Unfortunately he's only in it for the first five or so minutes (he passes out amid a mist of intoxicating weed), and it's therefore left for the younger likes of Phil Daniels, (ace in Quadrophenia) Gary Stretch (Dead Man's Shoes) and co to carry the film to its mortal doom. Freebird is a road movie of sorts that wants to be the British comedy answer to Dennis Hopper's Easy Rider but doesn't have the inspiration, charm or guts to carry any fleeting comparison to that vintage biker film.
