Articles tagged with: movie reviews
Movie Review: Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull
It's been 19 years since the fedora-wearing, wise-cracking, whip-snapping Indiana Jones last graced our screens, and so his return comes with as much trepidation as it does excitement. It also makes Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull a hard film to write a review for - it's not often that a beloved franchise from your childhood gets a sequel made this long after its original trilogy was closed. Let's not forget how the Star Wars prequels were wasted opportunities. So does Indy 4 shine like the Ark of the Covenant? Or does it stink like a 700-year-old knight?
It's been 19 years since the fedora-wearing, wise-cracking, whip-snapping Indiana Jones last graced our screens, and so his return comes with as much trepidation as it does excitement. It also makes Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull a hard film to write a review for - it's not often that a beloved franchise from your childhood gets a sequel made this long after its original trilogy was closed. Let's not forget how the Star Wars prequels were wasted opportunities. So does Indy 4 shine like the Ark of the Covenant? Or does it stink like a 700-year-old knight?
Hecklergigs: A Place To Bury Strangers, The Legion, 8/5
‘Bring earplugs’ they said. ‘Stand at the back’ they said. 'They’re the loudest band in New York’ they said. Well ‘they’ get top marks for believing the hype, but they could also require after-hours schooling for a little reality, because if A Place To Bury Strangers are the loudest band in New York then the city that never sleeps is in line for some well deserved shut eye. It may be the aural abilities of The Legion, Shoreditch’s nearest thing to an alpine ski bar, but even stood close to the stage with ears unplugged, our tympanic membranes remain intact and not even a drop of blood trickles from our auditory canal.
‘Bring earplugs’ they said. ‘Stand at the back’ they said. 'They’re the loudest band in New York’ they said. Well ‘they’ get top marks for believing the hype, but they could also require after-hours schooling for a little reality, because if A Place To Bury Strangers are the loudest band in New York then the city that never sleeps is in line for some well deserved shut eye. It may be the aural abilities of The Legion, Shoreditch’s nearest thing to an alpine ski bar, but even stood close to the stage with ears unplugged, our tympanic membranes remain intact and not even a drop of blood trickles from our auditory canal.
Movie Review: XXY
It’s a tough life being a teenager. One minute you’re a clear- skinned, sweet little bundle of naïve curiosity, the next you’ve got a face like an angry dot to dot, your parents have become inexplicably infuriating, and you want to hump everything in sight even if you’re not quite sure why. Tough indeed, but not quite as tough as having all of those things and being a person of indeterminate gender born with both male and female sexual organs. So not only are you getting the hormonal explosion of one gender, you’re having to deal with all the problems associated with both as well as the lovely people calling you a freak and parents who don’t know what to do. That’s the situation for Alex, anyway- the young lead of this brave Argentinian film from female director Lucia Puenzo.
It’s a tough life being a teenager. One minute you’re a clear- skinned, sweet little bundle of naïve curiosity, the next you’ve got a face like an angry dot to dot, your parents have become inexplicably infuriating, and you want to hump everything in sight even if you’re not quite sure why. Tough indeed, but not quite as tough as having all of those things and being a person of indeterminate gender born with both male and female sexual organs. So not only are you getting the hormonal explosion of one gender, you’re having to deal with all the problems associated with both as well as the lovely people calling you a freak and parents who don’t know what to do. That’s the situation for Alex, anyway- the young lead of this brave Argentinian film from female director Lucia Puenzo.
Hecklergigs, The Futureheads @ The Royalty, Sunderland, 01/03
When bands get big and famous, they tend to shun the grimy pubs and seedy back ally clubs. Instead of playing for a crowd of seven pissed old men who are more annoyed that you’re unsettling their darts night you elevated to superstar venues.
From playing horrible branded beer based academies, arenas and festivals, it’s a great milestone for any band, The Futurehead’s are no exception. After gigging around the North-East for to long, they finally got their spring bored to stardom with Hounds Of Love.
However, The Futureheads tonight played a very special and unique gig. In association with lovely tasting Gaymers cider and Channel 4, they aimed to take bands back to their hometown roots. And hecklerspray was there to see the band rekindle their love for Sunderland and play an intimate set for a handful of lucky competition winners.
Hecklergigs: Cut Copy, Scala, 23/4
There are many things that can stir up a sense of dread at the opening stages of a gig. Poorly-judged chemical consumption, signs reading ‘Carling only’, or The Others as a support act are a few, but a wanker in a trilby and sunglasses (indoors) is just as effective. For this reason, the start of Wednesday’s Cut Copy gig was an apprehensive one, but this man’s presence can be easily explained.
There are many things that can stir up a sense of dread at the opening stages of a gig. Poorly-judged chemical consumption, signs reading ‘Carling only’, or The Others as a support act are a few, but a wanker in a trilby and sunglasses (indoors) is just as effective. For this reason, the start of Wednesday’s Cut Copy gig was an apprehensive one, but this man’s presence can be easily explained.
Album Review: Tindersticks, ‘The Hungry Saw’
If you know Tindersticks, you'll be more than familiar with the world they inhabit. It's a sonic landscape of occasional desolation, soothing melancholy and introspective melody, all hazed out through a 3am red-wine-and-cigarettes blurry filter. In short: if you're looking for an album to soundtrack the million-plus hours of GTA IV rampages you're going to be enjoying from Tuesday, you need to search elsewhere. If, however, you're looking for a haunting, swelling, oddly fitting mixture of the stripped-back and the orchestral, then The Hungry Saw - Tindersticks' first album since 2003's Waiting For The Moon, and the seventh in their catalogue so far - may just float your boat nicely.
If you know Tindersticks, you'll be more than familiar with the world they inhabit. It's a sonic landscape of occasional desolation, soothing melancholy and introspective melody, all hazed out through a 3am red-wine-and-cigarettes blurry filter. In short: if you're looking for an album to soundtrack the million-plus hours of GTA IV rampages you're going to be enjoying from Tuesday, you need to search elsewhere. If, however, you're looking for a haunting, swelling, oddly fitting mixture of the stripped-back and the orchestral, then The Hungry Saw - Tindersticks' first album since 2003's Waiting For The Moon, and the seventh in their catalogue so far - may just float your boat nicely.
TV REVIEW: Britain’s Next Top Model, Living
Many depressing things have emerged from the world’s fascination with reality TV - the career of Jade Goody and Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber’s sense of humour rank high among them - but one of the more unexpectedly sad side effects is belief. Thanks to shows like X Factor, everyone and their dog (honestly, watch Britain’s Got Talent) believe they have what it takes to become the next pop icon/ business tycoon/ celebrity farmer that the world has been waiting for, but the fact is that many of us just aren’t all that good at stuff. Britain’s Next Top Model is, as it says on the tin, searching high and low in this fair land to unearth the next supermodel, and if there’s one thing that you absolutely have to have here, it’s belief.
Many depressing things have emerged from the world’s fascination with reality TV - the career of Jade Goody and Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber’s sense of humour rank high among them - but one of the more unexpectedly sad side effects is belief. Thanks to shows like X Factor, everyone and their dog (honestly, watch Britain’s Got Talent) believe they have what it takes to become the next pop icon/ business tycoon/ celebrity farmer that the world has been waiting for, but the fact is that many of us just aren’t all that good at stuff. Britain’s Next Top Model is, as it says on the tin, searching high and low in this fair land to unearth the next supermodel, and if there’s one thing that you absolutely have to have here, it’s belief.
Movie Review: Forgetting Sarah Marshall
The latest project to emerge from the Judd Apatow stable, Forgetting Sarah Marshall has - for UK audiences - one defining aspect that may well put you off seeing the film altogether: Russell Brand is in it. Yes, that Russell Brand - the gurning, repetitive Beetlejuice tribute act who just won't go away no matter how much we pray to Baby Jesus. But... wait. There's more. If you were to avoid the movie because of his appearance, you'd be making a mistake. Why? Well, two reasons. A) Forgetting Sarah Marshall is a well-acted, superbly observed, snort-into-your-popcorn comic romp that intertwines both sharp characterisation and penis gags with winning effect. B) Russell Brand isn't actually that bad in it. No. Seriously.
The latest project to emerge from the Judd Apatow stable, Forgetting Sarah Marshall has - for UK audiences - one defining aspect that may well put you off seeing the film altogether: Russell Brand is in it. Yes, that Russell Brand - the gurning, repetitive Beetlejuice tribute act who just won't go away no matter how much we pray to Baby Jesus. But... wait. There's more. If you were to avoid the movie because of his appearance, you'd be making a mistake. Why? Well, two reasons. A) Forgetting Sarah Marshall is a well-acted, superbly observed, snort-into-your-popcorn comic romp that intertwines both sharp characterisation and penis gags with winning effect. B) Russell Brand isn't actually that bad in it. No. Seriously.
