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Deja Q Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 07:23 PM
Original message
So what's the best movie review you've ever read? (warning, pertains to...
Edited on Sat Jan-17-04 07:24 PM by HypnoToad
http://www.capalert.com/capreports/southpark.htm

Yeah, you can guess which movie is being reviewed... :evilgrin: )

The movie's musical bits were mostly lame, but otherwise it was pretty good. Well above (or, rather, below) their usual crudeness. Amusingly, in the 6th season, they had an episode where if the people said "shit" too many times the world would be destroyed...

I loved the Bill Gates cameo! :D

It's crude and lewd, but anybody who'd take this movie seriously has more problems than I do!

Defintiely click on that link. For some reason, I found that review to be of ROTFLMAO quality. Strangely so, but in a way they're right... it depends on your point of view.
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Parrcrow Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 07:40 PM
Response to Original message
1. oh boy
if that didn't convince you to go out and get it, nothing will.:hi:

word counting ....sheesh!!!:crazy:

:wtf:
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Deja Q Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 07:57 PM
Response to Reply #1
2. Here's their main listing, read some of the reviews...
Edited on Sat Jan-17-04 07:59 PM by HypnoToad
http://www.capalert.com/capreports/#Media

Especially the Star Trek, Star Wars, and X-Men reviews...

For the Star Trek ones (especially II), they don't seem to remember that the genre is called "science FICTION".)

They mean well, but they're just a little bit nuts. (the review for "Contact" is a hoot, too...

Their website is also part of the Presidential Prayer Team. :eyes: http://www.presidentialprayerteam.org (DU the poll, too!)
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Kat45 Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 09:06 PM
Response to Original message
3. I've read these kinds of reviews before
I get a particular kick out of "the most foul of the foul words." And to be honest with you, I'm not entirely sure which word they refer to there: there's the obvious one, but again there's another word often considered more vulgar.
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mitchum Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 09:38 PM
Response to Original message
4. Any randomly selected Pauline Kael review will be the best movie review...
I've ever read. Although Anthony Lane isn't bad.
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oxymoron Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 09:55 PM
Response to Reply #4
6. I was just going to post the same thing.
I miss Pauline Kael.
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mitchum Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 09:59 PM
Response to Reply #6
7. Great minds!
I also miss her
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kodi Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 09:48 PM
Response to Original message
5. roger ebert's review of "Dark City" is a classic, perhaps the best.
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/

search "Dark City" and reviews

BY ROGER EBERT

``Dark City'' by Alex Proyas is a great visionary achievement, a film so original and exciting, it stirred my imagination like ``Metropolis'' and ``2001: A Space Odyssey.'' If it is true, as the German director Werner Herzog believes, that we live in an age starved of new images, then ``Dark City'' is a film to nourish us. Not a story so much as an experience, it is a triumph of art direction, set design, cinematography, special effects--and imagination.

Like ``Blade Runner,'' it imagines a city of the future. But while ``Blade Runner'' extended existing trends, ``Dark City'' leaps into the unknown. Its vast noir metropolis seems to exist in an alternate time line, with elements of our present and past combined with visions from a futuristic comic book. Like the first ``Batman,'' it presents a city of night and shadows, but it goes far beyond ``Batman'' in a richness of ominous, stylized sets, streets, skylines and cityscapes. For once a movie city equals any we could picture in our minds; this is the city ``The Fifth Element'' teased us with, without coming through.

The story combines science fiction with film noir--in more ways than we realize and more surprising ways than I will reveal. Its villains, in their homburgs and flapping overcoats, look like a nightmare inspired by the thugs in ``M,'' but their pale faces would look more at home in ``The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari''--and, frighteningly, one of them is a child. They are the Strangers, shape-changers from another solar system, and we are told they came to Earth when their own world was dying. (They create, in the process, the first space vessel since ``Star Wars'' that is newly conceived--not a clone of that looming mechanical vision.)

They inhabit a city of rumbling elevated streamlined trains, dank flophouses, scurrying crowds and store windows that owe something to Edward Hopper's ``Nighthawks.'' In this city lives John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell), who awakens in a strange bathtub beneath a swinging ceiling lamp, to blood, fear and guilt. The telephone rings; it is Dr. Schreber (Kiefer Sutherland), gasping out two or three words at a time, as if the need to speak is all that gives him breath. He warns Murdoch to flee, and indeed three Strangers are in the corridor, coming for him.

The film will be the story of Murdoch's flight into the mean streets, and his gradual discovery of the nature of the city and the Strangers. Like many science-fiction heroes, he has a memory shattered into pieces that do not fit. But he remembers the woman he loves, or loved--his wife, Emma (Jennifer Connelly), who is a torch singer with sad eyes and wounded lips. And he remembers ... Shell Beach? Where was that? He sees it on a billboard and old longings stir.

There is a detective after him, Inspector Bumstead (William Hurt). Murdoch is wanted in connection with the murders of six prostitutes. Did he kill them? Like the hero of Franz Kafka's The Trial, Murdoch feels so paranoid he hardly knows. Rufus Sewell plays Murdoch like a man caught in a pinball machine, flipped into danger every time it looks like the game is over.

The story has familiar elements made new. Even the hard-boiled detective, his eyes shaded by the brim of his fedora, seems less like a figure from film noir than like a projection of an alien idea of noir. Proyas and his co-screenwriters, Lem Dobbs and David S. Goyer, use dream logic to pursue their hero through the mystery of his own life. Along the way, Murdoch discovers that he alone, among humans, has the power of the Strangers--an ability to use his mind in order to shape the physical universe. (This power is expressed in the film as a sort of transparent shimmering projection, aimed from Murdoch's forehead into the world, and as klutzy as that sounds, I found myself enjoying its very audacity: What else would mind-power look like?)

"Murdoch's problem is that he has no way of knowing if his memories are real, if his past actually happened, if the women he loves ever existed. Those who offer to help him cannot be trusted. Even his enemies may not be real. The movie teasingly explores the question that babies first ask in peek-a-boo: When I can't see you, are you there? It's through that game that we learn the difference between ourselves and others. But what if we're not there, either?

"The movie is a glorious marriage of existential dread and slam-bang action. Toward the end, there is a thrilling apocalyptic battle that nearly destroys the city, and I scribbled in my notes: ``For once, a sequence where the fire and explosions really work and don't play just as effects.'' Proyas and his cinematographer, Dariusz Wolski, capture the kinetic energy of great comic books; their framing and foreshortening and tilt shots and distorting lenses shake the images and splash them on the screen, and it's not ``action'' but more like action painting."
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Redneck Socialist Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 10:05 PM
Response to Original message
8. That was awsome!
Thank's for the laugh.
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LiviaOlivia Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 10:05 PM
Response to Original message
9. Cat In The Hat
Edited on Sat Jan-17-04 10:07 PM by LiviaOlivia
"They might as well have skipped the hassle of securing licensing rights and simply called this mess Mike Myers: Asshole in Fur."
Gregory Weinkauf, Dallas Observer

http://film.guardian.co.uk/news/story/0,,1094482,00.html
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BigMcLargehuge Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-17-04 11:03 PM
Response to Original message
10. Play it to the Bone (www.mrcranky.com)
Edited on Sat Jan-17-04 11:12 PM by BigMcLargehuge
hands down the funniest review I've ever read.


Play It to the Bone


Mr. Cranky's rating: (sticks of dynamite)

Watching this movie is a lot like playing with your little brother. You're tossing around that Nerf football, laughing, having a great time. Then you tell him to go long and huck that damn Nerf as far as it'll fly, and your little brother runs his heart out, watching the incoming football, not concentrating on where he's headed. And all of a sudden he smacks right into a tree. Of course, you're laughing your ass off until little bro gets up, stumbles a bit, looks at you, and then you realize that his eyes are no longer pointed in the same direction and he'll be lucky if he'll ever again be able to wipe his own ass without assistance.

This is a good metaphor for the directing career of Ron Shelton, who seemed somewhat coherent with "Bull Durham," but has steadily gone into the tank and now, with "Play it to the Bone," has graduated to a level of apoplexy that would do Ronald Reagan proud. This film could not have been much worse. Even in the worst films, I can often think of ways they could be worse. In "Mr. Wrong," for instance, Ellen DeGeneres could have had a love affair with a lesbian anteater. That would have made it worse. Sadly, however, Ellen DeGeneres having a love affair with an lesbian anteater would have made "Play it to the Bone"better.

There's barely a semblance of a story here, so I won't dwell on it much. Boxers Cesar Dominguez (Antonio Banderas) and Vince Boudreau (Woody Harrelson) are offered a last-minute bout in Las Vegas and are driven there by Grace (Lolita Davidovich). Shelton goes out of his way to tell us the weather report in Vegas: 84 degrees upon sunrise, with an expected high of 100. So here are Cesar, Vince, and Grace driving from Los Angeles across the desert, wearing leather jackets. Actually, I don't think Vince had a leather jacket, he was wearing a knit cap. After that follows about an hour of head shots and it seems as though this drive was shot in real time. I've had root canals seem positively zippy in comparison. Not to mention much, much less painful.

You'd have better luck finding ice cubes in the desert than you would finding a point to "Play it to the Bone." Perhaps Shelton wanted to make another sports film, and was simply running out of sports. Some of the stupider jokes about Cesar's boxing injuries scrambling his sexual orientation reek of such desperation you actually feel sorry for Shelton. In the fight itself, Cesar flashes back to his loss while Vince, in one of the most blatant excuses for showing big tits ever conceived, hallucinates that the ring girls aren't wearing tops. It made me wish that Shelton had hallucinated this movie.
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