Lovely and Amazing
REVIEWED 08/02, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Lousy and boring is more like it. How this awful navel-gazing rip-off ever got made, or distributed, or even picked up by a major theatre chain are all mysteries that would likely have been far more interesting to sit through. The latter probably had something to do with cashing in on the currently hot coat tails of Catherine Keeler, who's usual on-screen zest is non-existant here.

What 'Lousy and Boring' - I mean 'Lovely and Amazing' - attempts to be is an unpolished and insightfully poignant slice of life drama about a family of mildly self-loathing women. We have the aging mother, who is unhappy about growing old. We've got the eccentric older sister, who's unhappy about having to finally grow up. There's the impish younger sister, who's unhappy about her unconvincing narcissism. And, the adopted little girl, who is plump and Black and apparently unhappy because being unhappy seems to be what passes for normal around here. Four unhappy disenfranchised females, all impatiently moping through their self-muddling lives in a kind of bewildered stupor. That, and some fairly yawn-inspiring nudity, is about it.

Each character is so uneffectively portrayed in this slothfully plotless turkey, that it really doesn't give any indication as to why it needed to be made at all. It has nothing to say that hasn't been said much better before. It's not entertaining, unless paying to eavesdrop on what pretty well everyone over thirty experiences for free is your cup of tea. It doesn't encourage you to ponder anything, except where the nearest exit is. Putting ordinary, unsympathetic, and screwed up people in superficially self-destructive situations that plod nowhere - except into an abysmally continuous din of whiney self-indulgent bleats - might instantly be considered masterful contemporary cinematography to some. Sure, Soderbergh managed to temper it with stylish intelligence in 'Full Frontal'. However, this particular offering is pure nonsense.

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The Lord of the Rings 2
REVIEWED 12/02, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

If you were like me, sitting through three hours of 'The Fellowship of the Ring' last year, scratching your head wondering where the ending to that lavish gob-smacking fantasy adventure was, I bring good news. This much-anticipated sequel does have one. It also runs the same amount of time on screen, and features some hugely impressive effects and similarly eye-popping panoramic views of the richly mythical follow-up trilogy to the children's book, 'The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again', conjured up by South African-born, Oxford professor and world reknowned writer J.R.R. Tolkien (1892-1973).

The great wizard Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellen) is dead. The Fellowship has been split, with Hobbits Frodo Baggins (Elijah Wood) and Samwise Gamjee (Sean Astin) continuing through perillous mountains towards the scorched land of Mordor to destroy the ring before the big creepy eyeball of Lord Sauron uses it to destroy Middle Earth. Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), a human, the dwarf Gimli (John Rhys-Davies), and Legolas (Orlando Bloom) the elf race off to save Frodo's kin, Pippin Took (Billy Boyd) and Merry Brandybuck (Dominis Monaghan) from the bloodthirsty Orc soldiers of Sauron's puppet, Saruman the White (Christopher Lee), before they can return to that wizard's nasty dark tower of Isengard. However, our trio of warriors are too late, finding only a pyre of smoldering Orc corpses at the edge of Fangorn Forest, left by knighted horsemen led by Éomer (Karl Urban), the banished nephew of the bewitched Rohan King. Meanwhile, Frodo becomes more and more seduced by the ring with each passing day, but aided by the insane wretch Gollum (Andy Serkis), he and Sam manage to survive their long journey by foot - until they're eventually captured by the fighting men of Gondor. My brain hurts.

'The Two Towers' is basically a fairly dull, yet CGI-packed saga of gargantuan battles and lukewarm treachery. Unfortunately, unless you've actually read the books, and love them, this flick's sometimes bewildering storyline tends to sluggishly drag between action sequences. Let's face it, most of the audience wants to see the action sequences. Knights and noble swordsmen duking it out against a swarming menagerie of monsters and other folkloric badguys. And, you get them, whenever they occur. The rest of this movie tends to rely heavily on you remembering everything from Tolkien's comparably absorbing novels, or from director Peter Jackson's first cinematic installment, as it quickly loses steam forcing it's cast to actually act this time around. You can tell this easily enough, when the computer-created characters continually manage to steal every scene from these rather wooden live performers. Sure, the entire look of this film is a feast for the eyes. Of course this story has both captivated and inspired generations of writers, artists and moviemakers since hitting print in the mid-Fifties. However, pretty well anything that doesn't involve drawing a blade or bringing trees to life isn't translated well enough here to make it stand out as a completely satisfying romp. You're never given any reason to care about the main characters. You're never really even told what the second tower is (I'm guessing it's the Rohan stronghold, Helm's Deep), for instance. Leaving you three hours poorer, with a clumsily told epic that's probably been elaborated on a million times better elsewhere, and again wondering what all the fuss was about.

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The Life of David Gale
REVIEWED 03/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

In Eastern philosophy, the topic of death seems closely related to life. Karma. Bardo. Reincarnation. Where the physical body is the material extension of your eternal soul. In Western psychology, this last notion appears to be clinically divided into the id, or subconscious mind, and the ego, the conscious mind. However, regardless of whichever belief system you ascribe to, the requirement of sacrifice tends to ring true for both. Facing judgment for one's prior motivations in the ethereal realm of the Bardo, or examining one's underlying hot buttons to bring stability to the chaos of the waking subconscious. Learning from sacrifice for the greater good. Either in this life, or the next - if you believe in reincarnation.

David Gale (Kevin Spacey) is an intelligently passionate death penalty abolitionist, noted author of the book 'Diabolical Exhaustion', and the slightly arrogant Head of Philosophy at the University of Austin. He's an unadulterated wunderkind on campus, pushing his students to absorb the Buddhist-like teachings of Jacques Lacan (a radical peer of Freud) and exchanging drunken limericks with his faculty at midnight minglers. His self-righteous fight against executions in Texas (the largest per capita in America since being reinstated in 1976) inspires reference to Saint George slaying dragons. A hero. Problem is, Gale's wife has left him for her lover in Spain, taking his young son with her. Oh, and he's also on Death Row. Relying on his apparently inept defense lawyer, Braxton Belyeu (Leon Rippy), to appeal his sentence of raping and murdering fellow activist Constance Hallaway (Laura Linney). Enter ballsy Pulitzer-hungry Manhattan journalist Elizabeth 'Bitsy' Bloom (Kate Winslet). Fresh from her controversially supportive article for News Magazine on Kiddie Porn deviants, Bitsy is summoned for an exclusive three-session interview with Gale at the Ellis Unit of Huntsville State Prison. At first, all evidence points to David's guilt. His DNA, fingerprints and sperm were found on the gagged and handcuffed body. His previous scandal of being wrongly accused of raping an expelled student, resulting in his indefinite enforced sabbatical, doesn't help. Even the sickening video shot during Constance's tortured last moments that mysteriously appears in Bloom's motel room reveals nothing to sway her gut feelings about him. That is, until her focus turns to the victim's freakishly zealot friend less than twenty-four hours before Gale faces his scheduled lethal injection of Sodium Thiopental, Pancuronium Bromide and Potassium Chloride, and Bitsy is forced to race against time in order to save this (maybe) innocent martyr.

'The Life of David Gale' is an incredibly well crafted, psychological nail biter. Sure, some of the scenes are pretty graphic, but the overall humanistic story is enormously smart and cleverly coy about not divulging the truth until the end. You really don't know what happened until Winslet's excellently portrayed character figures it out. Spacey is magnificent in giving us this guy who's basically a legend in his own mind, broken by poor judgment and circumstance, caught in the downward spiral of his own personal pre-death Bardo behind bars. Linney's performance as a predominantly unseen woman willing to gamble everything for her just cause is nothing less than heartbreakingly inspired. This is an astoundingly powerful movie about an extremely difficult subject, loaded up with an originality and freshness seldom seen from Hollywood. Definitely well worth a second look. Awesome.

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Legally Blonde 2
REVIEWED 07/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

When deliriously effervescent Harvard alumnus and glowing bride-to-be Elle Woods (Reese Witherspoon) discovers that Bruiser the button-eyed Chihuahua's mother is Subject #6285 in a testing lab run by cosmetics giant Ce Magnifique, and a well-meaning spark of activism gets her fired from her first Boston law firm job moments before her big promotion, this personably savvy bimbo decides to pack her stylishly chic wardrobe complete with all-pink accessories into her powder blue convertible and take her fight for animal rights to Washington. Elle's determined to lobby the House of Representatives, under the wing of twenty-year political veteran Congresswoman Rudd (Sally Field) and with the helpful coaching of Sidney (Bob Newhart), the wily doorman she befriends while staying at the Capitol's Wellington Hotel. However, all is not entirely what it seems to be at first, and our bubbly sorority gal soon learns that a shiny personality and a French manicure might not be enough to get her and her 'Bruiser Bill' taken seriously by Congress - let alone Rudd's own hardnosed staff members.

Well, it pretty much goes without saying that this sequel is a feel good puffball capitalizing on the surprise success of 'Legally Blonde' (2001). And, eventhough the script vaguely pays tribute to such cinematic classics as 'Meet John Doe' and 'Mister Smith Goes to Washington'; there really isn't a whole lot to like about it. Witherspoon's character, while mildly likable in a huggably cutesy stuffed toy way, just isn't believable within the scheme of this story because you're never shown the process of her supposed intelligence - beyond the results of her brand of chirpy idiot savant-ism landing her on her feet despite how outwardly air headed she's portrayed as being most of the time. Sure, I realize that's the running gag here, but it quickly runs thin while you're left sitting through scene after scene of overwhelmingly uninspired dialogue and gut-churningly flat one-liners. Even Newhart's timeless humour doesn't save this turkey. It's just a silly and vacuous unfunny movie that doesn't seem to bother trying to be particularly entertaining beyond what you've probably already seen in the ads and trailers. Frankly speaking, I wouldn't recommend you pay to see this one or even consider sneaking in to check it out, because there's really nothing here to hook into long enough to make it worth your while. It's that much of a disappointing waste of talent, folks. Too bad.

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The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
REVIEWED 07/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Desperately called upon by Queen and Country, world-renowned explorer and bitterly aging ex-patriot Allan Quatermain (Sean Connery) reluctantly returns to grey old England from the dusty heat and musty ghosts of the Empire Club in the Sun-baked heart of Kenya. It's the Summer of 1899 and, as the dawn of the 20th Century quickly approaches, Europe teeters on the brink of war. The Bank of England was ransacked of its priceless treasures months earlier by men in German uniforms, followed by the catastrophic destruction of Berlin's famed Hindenberg factory by Brits in army gear, causing increased political tension between these two Superpowers. However, as 'M' (Richard Roxburgh), an MI6-like director of a clandestine quasi-governmental organization headquartered deep beneath the cobblestone streets of London explains, not all is what it seems. The brutally diabolical machinations of a disfigured criminal mastermind known only as 'The Phantom' are actually behind this, and a band of extraordinary Victorian-era misfits are recruited to join forces and protect a conference of scientists due to converge in Vienna in three days. Well, maybe. See, this is the labyrinthine past of an alternate fantasy Earth, created in the frenetic mind of legendary comic book writer Alan Moore ('The Watchmen', 'From Hell'). So, in this bygone page-to-screen world of daring deeds and double-cross, it's not at all preposterous for our swarthy aged adventurer to end up leading the likes of Captain Nemo (Naseeruddin Shah), Dorian Gray (Stuart Townsend), Tom Sawyer (Shane West), and Dr. Henry Jekyll and Mr. Edward Hyde (Jason Flemyng) - with an invisible 'gentleman thief' (Tony Curran as Rodney Skinner) and a tenuously prim vampiress (Peta Wilson as Mina Harker) thrown into the dark mix.

Admittedly, I'm not particularly familiar with the original graphic novel series this rather thin-storied visual extravaganza was based on, but I did read that certain changes - such as the addition of West's gun-slinging American spy and the noticeable replacement of Hawley Griffin (H.G. Welles' actual 'Invisible Man') with a non-copyrighted Cockney scene stealer - was done for this big screen version. Whatever was done, there's certainly a lot to be desired in the character development department here, beyond Connery's role as obvious leading man. While this flick is an incredibly elaborate feast for the eyes from beginning to end, and an impressively imaginative exercise in anachronistically cross-pollinating technology and machinery from our Modern Age onto an otherwise realistic-looking pre-1900's backdrop, those of us not completely familiar with these 'novel' on-screen heroes are sorely left to heavily rely on each actor's strained talent to squeeze life out of a mildly disappointingly script. Which, at times, backfires when compared to what we do know about these wonders of prose. That's where this movie starts to fall apart, as it becomes clear that each characters' uniqueness is merely a vaguely plot-important gimmick - with the exception of their maniacal nemesis, who is the most interesting and least explained of the bunch. Moore cited in a recent interview that he wanted to look at the history of our superhero lexicon for fresh inspiration. He may have done so for his same-titled illustrated manuscript, but what we end up with in the theatre is little more than a redressed 'X-Men' (2000) remake with shades of 'The Hulk' (2003) and 'Queen of the Damned' (2002) all extruded together into a meringue mold. So, while this one's great as a turn-your-brain-off eye candy romp for a rainy day with the kids, don't expect much substance or continuity with the Classics.

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Lost in Translation
REVIEWED 06/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Bewildered, seriously jetlagged, and half a world from his complacently crumbling twenty-five year marriage, former action star of such American blockbusters as 'Sunset Odds' Bob Harris (Bill Murray, 53) is in Tokyo on a photo shoot for Satori Whiskey. Two million dollars is pretty good pay for a couple of days posing in a tuxedo under studio lights, but Bob quickly becomes bored and isolated by the dramatic cultural and linguistic differences (he doesn't speak Japanese), and he begins seeking out distractions to maintain some sense of sanity. Nursing drinks in a dim corner of the hotel bar, watching the red haired US singer of Soul Solito warble out soggy lounge favourites against the neon city's midnight silhouette. Fighting an insomniatic haze figuring out the ream of faxes and a litter of swatches sent by his nagging, redecorating-obsessive wife from more than a dozen time zones away. And, keeping an eye out for a similarly stuck compadré looking to commiserate - and possibly escape this madness with. Enter young Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson, 19), a quietly introspective dispossessed Yale philosophy grad and two-year wife of a Rock music photographer who's brought her to Japan on his latest assignment. So, while hubby John (Giovanni Ribisi, 29) is off snapping and shmoozing with hip hot celebrity musicians, poor Charlotte is left on her own to mind-numbingly ramble around their sparse hotel room half naked - one floor above Harris' posh suite, coincidentally. The two eventually strike up a friendship that gives them both stability and comfort and a few laughs, but it slowly becomes awkward when loneliness nudges them both towards not-so secret thoughts of infidelity.

Frankly, if you've caught the ads and trailers for this fairly clumsy and esoteric snoozer, you've probably seen most of its good parts already. Bill Murray's impeccable improvisational skills shine through here, whenever he's given the chance to play off whatever or whomever crosses his frenetic comedic path. It's as though he can sense that he'd better do something entertaining, because it's pretty obvious thirty-two year-old writer/director Sofia Coppola (yeah, 'The Godfather' (1972) Francis' daughter) basically shot this disorganized shambles from the hip with her fingers crossed. When asked in a recent interview with IMDb's Keith Simanton about her process when approaching each film project - 'Lost in Translation' being her second full-length stint in the director's chair - Coppola replied, "It's different each time but I like to do things that you have some personal connection to, whatever's on your mind at the time. I usually don't know until afterward. At the time, it's not always so apparent that you're going in a certain direction." uh. It showed. The rest of this movie is a boring mess of uninteresting silent moping, puzzlingly amateurish ad-libs and drawn-out shots of various cityscapes as little more than pointless filler. It's really too bad, because you can instinctively tell that Johansson could have done a lot more with her solo scenes if the disappointing half-baked script hadn't encouraged what amounts to a series of pink pantied Mime exercises from her. Of course there are a couple of beautifully shot asides, but they're boring. And sure, the grey line between these two characters' close bond and an underlying romance blossoming was vaguely intriguing, but when you consider that Harris' Tokyo shoot mirrors one by Sofia's Dad for the same whiskey company and that she also spent a lot of time in Japan, wellll, let's not go there, Electra... With no real story or plotline, about the only reason to check this one out would be as a make out date matinee, or a rainy day rental that you can fast forward through ninety minutes of junk for the ten or twelve minutes of hilarious genius from Bill Murray. Otherwise, 'Lost' ain't worth finding.

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Love Actually
REVIEWED 11/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Christmas is coming and young Sam is in love. He's not too sure how to go about actually telling that girl at school how he feels, but step-father Daniel (Liam Neeson) is determined to put aside his grief over the agonizing cancer death of his wife and this boy's mother to help out before she's set to leave for the States. At the same time, Dan's good friend Karen (Emma Thompson) suspects her long-time husband (Alan Rickman) is having an affair with his secretary, after seeing them slow dance at the office holiday party that's held at indie photographer Mark's (Andrew Lincoln) downtown London gallery. Of course, Karen's big brother David (Hugh Grant) has problems of his own, being the newly-elected Prime Minister of Britain and having to deal with a fairly one-sided political relationship with the smooth-talking President of the United States (Billy Bob Thornton) yet quickly becoming smitten by one of the women on his 10 Downing Street staff. Mark's heart is also secretly aching, but for Juliet (Keira Knightley), the new bride of his best friend who he's taken such a stand-off approach towards that she thinks he actually hates her. Along the same lines, part-time waiter at that wedding reception and full-time self-professed 'sex god' Colin (Kris Marshall) has decided that he's definitely living on the wrong continent if he wants to get laid at all, and is determined to pack his belongings and set off to America, where he's certain to find any number of women who will swoon at his cute London accent and charm within minutes. He ends up in Milwaukee, with three gorgeous ladies and no-where to stay. Then, there's crime writer Jamie (Colin Firth), who has just discovered that his girlfriend is messing around with his brother, and moves to a small villa in France to get away from it all - only to transcend a fairly wide and hilarious language barrier to fall in love with his Portuguese housekeeper. However, none of this solves Sam's dilemma. The season's children's pageant is coming and he's running out of time for ideas. That is, until he sees faded rock star Billy Mack (Bill Nighy) on TV, ridiculously promoting his crummy pop single that's surprisingly in the running as the number one hit during this festive time, and has a sudden epiphany...

Yes, this undeniable date flick is definitely the year's ultimate Christmas romantic comedy that's sure to be a hit at the box office and rental stores. It's loaded to the hilt with big star names, quirky Soap Opera-like plotlines, and enough feel good juice to choke a legion of grinches. Plus, it's actually a very well done movie, despite teetering towards being a pastiche of sugary glee here and there. Sure, it's way over the top in the gooey love stuff department at times, and does have it's lion's share of swearing and nudity throughout (two porn stars comprise one of the heart-struck couples), but I'd be hard pressed to say that I didn't enjoy all of the sub-plots that are played out. Simply because it's got a perfect balance of character development and wry irreverent laughs, all tied up in a nice big red ribbon of happy endings for pretty well everyone concerned. It's a clever, humourous, and heartfelt Brit blockbuster pandering to that part of ourselves that just wants to escape to a place where everything works out at Christmastime. Full marks go to all of the cast for their great acting, but an extra nod should go to Thompson for her outstandingly realistic portrayal, as well as to Grant and Thornton for giving us an extra and somewhat controversial political subtext to follow, that probably won't go over too well in the States, but is quite a fresh and funny poke at current affairs. Writer/director Richard Curtis has pulled out all of the stops here, and is sure to reap all of the rewards with paying audiences. There was a good cross-section of people at the screening that I went to, and everyone - from the the three elderly ladies in the back row to the teenaged couple two seats down from me - left the theatre with a huge smile of satisfaction on their faces come the closing credits. Check it out for the great laughs and strong performances. You'll be happily surprised at your reaction, folks.

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The Last Samurai
REVIEWED 06/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

When drunken and battle-haunted Nathan Algren (Tom Cruise), former Captain under Lieutenant Colonel Custer during the Indian Wars and recently fired celebrity pitch man for the Winchester Rifle Company, sailed into Yokohama Harbour after accepting a $500 per month contract with royally appointed Japanese railroad mogul General Omura (Masato Harada) to modernize that country's military, he had no real idea what he was up against. These are turbulent times in mid-1870's Japan, with the young Divine Emperor Meij (Shichinosuke Nakamura) hiring top engineers from Germany, the finest tailors from Italy, and the best war veterans from America to help bring these four ancient islands out of the mysticism of antiquity and into the relevent 19th Century. What Algren finds are regiments of poorly trained conscripted peasants still steeped in the fearful lore of the Samurai: A ferocious lineage of armoured warriors who have lived by the sword as soldiers for generations, but whose time is quickly dwindling as a new age of the gun threatens to annihilate them. Their noble rebel leader Katsumoto (Ken Watanabe) has dreamed of an albino tiger that will come to them with much courage. So, when Nathan's unfit troops are forced into the thick forest fog of the Yoshino Province on their first standoff against these ghoulishly clad fighting men, and this tormented and bloodied American finds himself surrounded and outnumbered with nothing but a cat-emblazoned flag to protect himself with, Katsumoto recognizes this as his dream being realized and chooses to take the Captain prisoner, sparing Nathan a swift death by his men's tempered blades. Weathering the winter chill of a secluded mountain village, in the home of a Samurai he has killed, Algren is nursed back to sobriety and health by the widow Taka (played wonderfully by Koyuki), and while allowed to roam freely under close guard among his captors, soon changes from being their suspicious enemy to becoming Katsumoto's trusted ally and friend. However, the Emperor has granted the Samurai safe passage into the palace by Spring, and Omura is maliciously determined to see his army brutally wipe out these vestiges of a bygone era - to the last Samurai.

Wow. I'd heard that this flick was Cruise's stab at an Oscar nomination, so I was ready to be blown away by him in this obviously juicy role. What I didn't expect was just how thoroughly captivating this story would be over-all. Every scene is a feast for the eyes. Pretty well every actor is so completely on the mark here. Smart dialogue, and gorgeous cinematography throughout. This is clearly an epic that's easily on the same powerfully gritty and adrenaline-pounding scale as 'Gladiator' (2000), but tinged with a similarly deep human drama seen in 'Dances With Wolves' (1990) - both of which are incredibly good films worth seeing. What Cruise does here is find a successful balance, where his emotionally flawed character can find redemption for his past sins as a man through the initially mysterious honour and compassion of his captors, and still return to the battlefield a far better soldier than he ever was before. You see his soulful metamorphosis as though it was actually happening - beyond the physical change - instead of it feeling portrayed for the camera by an actor. An awesome accomplishment. In fact, this entire picture is rife with astounding scenes driven by a tight script that beautifully meshes a series of subplots underlining this tumultuous time in Japan's history. It completely overwhelms you at times. My only real problems were in how Billy Connolly's sidekick Sergeant character seemed like a throwaway part that could have been fleshed out better, and with Nakamura's thickly accented and fairly strange voice that jarred me out of being wrapped up in this offering every time he spoke. These are minor flaws, however. The swordsmanship demonstrated throughout is jaw-droppingly brilliant, easily putting that latest Tarantino blade fest to shame. The fight scenes here are absolutely breath-taking, in close up and in wide angle, and all of the supporting cast deserve top marks for creating and maintaining such a wonderfully believable world for a paying audience to be drawn into. Definitely well worth the price of admission. Undeniably well worth checking out on the big screen. Even at about two hours and twenty minutes in length, 'The Last Samurai' is a hugely entertaining blockbuster that keeps you mesmerized from beginning to end. Awesome.

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The Lord of the Rings 3
REVIEWED 12/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The battle at Helm's Deep is won against the Uruk-Hai armies and the Ents hold sway over the conquered tower of Saruman the White Wizard, under the leadership of Treebeard. Now, the Rohan-based forces of good begin to gather alongside Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) to fight against the Orcs of Mordor and the ever-strengthening evil orange Eye of Sauron. And, Frodo Baggins (Elijah Wood) continues his arduous trek with long-time friend Samwise (Sean Astin) on foot towards the volcanic terror of Mount Doom, along a dangerous path set by the murderously insane creature Gollum/Smeagol (Andy Serkis). This is the last chapter in the survival of Middle Earth. One that could easily turn either way on the battlefield at the shimmering stronghold of Minas Tirith - The Place of Kings - but truly hangs from the neck of desperately exhausted Frodo. Ever since leaving The Shire many months ago on this journey first instigated by the great wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen), this otherwise unassuming little Hobbit has been entrusted with The One Ring - once mighty warrior king Sauron's source of all-consuming power - to destroy it where that mystical golden loop was first cast ages past: Mount Doom, at the molten core of Mordor's wastelands. However, the nearby port city of Gondor is under siege by river and by air as evil strafes the countryside in an attempt to gain a dominant foothold, and all seems lost, as the ever-suspicious Steward of Gondor remains safely unmoved in his ivory palace atop Minas Tirith to Gandalf's assurances of Aragorn's rising claim to the throne. And, although Arwen (Liv Tyler) has convinced her Elvin father to refashion the sword that is key to kingly rule against this land's looming apocalypse, Meriadoc 'Merry' Brandybuck (Dominic Monaghan) has endangered the entire band through his foolish curiosity about a certain black orb found in the ruins of Saruman's fallen empire. Smeagol has also become more of a threat to Baggins, systematically poisoning his trust in Sam as they slowly creep across the increasingly desolate terrain through the stench of death at every turn, in a devilish plot to possess the One Ring - his Precious - for himself once more...

Well, my brain hurt almost as much trying to follow along with this second sequel in director Peter Jackson's epic trilogy based on the world-renowned books by South African-born Oxford professor and English novelist J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973), as it did with the last one. A lot of that confusion this time had to do with someone apparently assuming that everyone who would see this latest offering had gone out and rented or bought the extended version of 'The Fellowship of the Ring' (2001) and 'The Two Towers' (2002) beforehand, and were already familiar with scenes that never made it to the big screen when those flicks were first released in the theatres, respectively. Big mistake. Sure, screenwriting team Frances Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Jackson's vision of 'Return of the King' is a lavish feast for the eyes from beginning to end and is more or less a thoroughly captivating tale rife with interesting subplots throughout - eventhough it's really all about building up to the fight scenes, not developing characters as anything other than for allegory sake. The richly CGI-reliant script also does a wonderfully worthwhile job of tying up most of the loose ends and filling in some gaps before the penultimate war between good and evil relentlessly thunders in front of your gasping face, but where the heck did those giant eagles come from? We'd only seen a glimpse of Gwaihir saving Gandalf from Saruman's tower way back when. Isn't there more giant eagle story there? And, where was Saruman (Christopher Lee was unceremoniously chopped from the final cut, despite his glorious performance in 'Fellowship' and 'Two Towers' - and being the only cast member to be a vital authority on the books, and to have actually met the author)? We're carefully told Smeagol's history here (although, at one point, they could've done a better job on Serkis' make-up during his transformation into Gollum), but who the heck is that mashed potato headed Orc leader? A bunch of time was spent explaining The Dead in this one as well, but how come people are suddenly singing, when none of Tolkien's wealth of songs were used in the last two movies whenever I'd paid the ticket price to see them? Of course, none of those quibbles seriously diminished my over-all enjoyment of this rollicking three hour and thirty-five minute adventure, but they did serve to annoyingly nudge me out of this otherwise extravagantly lush fantasyland during several key moments when I probably should have been cheering on the heroes and chucking popcorn at the baddies. Don't get me wrong, I do realize what an impressively monumental undertaking has been achieved by this cast and crew. It'll likely win several awards - although the ending does leave a bit to be desired - and it'll probably justify the current buzz that these three films will surpass the similar lexicon and cinematic grip on generations of film buffs begun by writer/director George Lucas with 'Star Wars' (1977). One scene here actually reminded me of the battle on Hoth in 'The Empire Strikes Back' (1980). Regardless of the hype, aggravating merchandising ploys and clumsily issuing different rental versions suspiciously relevant to this last installment, 'The Return of the King' is definitely far superior to it's predecessors and one holiday flick you'll be glad you checked out on the big screen. Just don't be surprised if you leave the theatre afterwards with a numb backside and a few questions as well.

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The Ladykillers
REVIEWED 04/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

In the vastly superior mind of University of Mississippi at Habsburg's Latin Professor on sabbatical Goldthwaite Higginson Dorr, PhD (Tom Hanks), it all seemed absolutely certain to be an entirely straightforward order of business at the time: Quietly enlisting the willing collaboratively-advantageous talents of four creative-minded gentlemen through the Memphis Scimitar newspaper classifieds, acquiring a most suitably designated if not equally affordable and dazzlingly secured chambre à louer a mere pebble's throw from the sun drenched aromatically tree-lined, lackadaisically law-enforced rural borough of Saucier's landmark riverboat hull of The Bandit Queen, and, with the most strenuously elucidated attention to detail assured to the nth calculation, swiftly yet prudently burrow the ninety feet of soft loamy Delta firmament separating him and them from that moored gambling establishment's underground counting room. Bypassing all points of security and the guarded five-inch thick solitary steel door halting easy access to that landlocked den of riches, and much like anointed urchins given unfettered entrance to the proverbial candy store, surreptitiously relieve its momentarily breached bowels of the $1.6 million in unmarked bills awaiting their gloriously diabolical burglary. Simple. Streetwise Casino janitor Gawain MacSam (Marlon Wayans) is the inside man. 'The General' (Tzi Ma) is their engineering expert overseeing the tunnel itself. Garth Pancake (J.K. Simmons) takes care of the explosives required to punch through the room's wall. And, lumbering footballer Lump Hudson (Ryan Hurst) will be their muscle and blunt weapon if necessary. All brought together under the guise of being musicians. Alas, this poor servant to the Classics of Prose and aspiring criminal mastermind soon discovers that he's wildly underestimated the luck of widow Marva Munsun (Irma P. Hall), the sixty-seven year-old staunchly Baptist Christian whose immaculate old house Dorr has unwittingly based his fiendish operations in, and this band of thieves ineptly tries to take her out of the picture after she stumbles onto their true intentions.

Well, this rather vapidly-humoured 'comedy' of errors felt more like it was intended for little kids - except for the wealth of expletive language overtly peppered throughout - than a successfully clever remake of the famously hilarious Brit farce starring Sir Alec Guinness (1914-2000) and comedian Peter Sellers (1925-1980) that was reportedly the last movie of its kind produced by Ealing Studios, before it was sold to the BBC the same year that Oscar-nominated original was released in theatres in 1955. What writer/director duo Ethan and Joel Coen basically do here is give us a ridiculously embarrassing cast of stereotypically goofy caricatures that feel lazily plucked from a pool of wildly affected Silent Screen pratfall and gurn aficionados, puffed up with a load of teeth-grating dumbed-down dialogue, expecting a reasonably intelligent paying audience to gobble it up without noticing just how enormously stupid this flick is. Sure, it's obvious that Hanks took gleeful delight in hamming up his slimy-toothed Southern Gent for the camera, flexing his character's dubious eloquence in thick syrupy gobs throughout, trying to keep you mildly interested in what's going on. However, even his abhorrent cavity-inducing performance failed to garner more than a muffled smirk at the packed screening that I attended, compared to the howls of laughter exploding from the audience whenever Munsun's orange tabby, Pickles, stole every fleeting scene that cat was in. And, those scenes really weren't all that great either, quite frankly. Unbelievable. The other major problem with this painfully awful stinker is that, if you've seen any of its ads on TV, you've pretty well seen all of the reasonably good bits that - through some miraculous editing mistake in post production - ended up being used in the final cut. Forcing you to sink further and further into your seat while enduring a seemingly never-ending haze of cinematic swamp gas, pining for another 'Home Alone' sequel while this dismally un-funny waste of celluloid clicks out reams of disastrously pathetic junk, until you're rewarded with something you thought was funny the first ten times you saw it in the teaser. Do yourself a huge favour, steer clear of this insulting waste of time, and just rent the original movie as a fun escape into bygone lunacy.

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Laws of Attraction
REVIEWED 05/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Katz, Cohen & Phelps' undisputed Manhattan divorce attorney Audrey Woods (Julianne Moore) had the Harrison case all sewn up, long before ever appearing in court with client Mary against household gadget millionaire Gary's opposing council. Meticulous as always, Audrey had done her homework on that eight-year marriage and their contentious prenuptial agreement. Inconspicuously checking out that split couple's opulently furnished nine thousand square foot townhouse for sale, and noticing that all of the priceless masterwork paintings were already gone. Money in the bank, just waiting to be pounced on, she grinned to herself with a certain divine satisfaction. However, when Daniel Rafferty (Pierce Brosnan), Gary's slightly rumpled and unconventional new lawyer suavely wraps the proceedings - and the judge - around his effortless little finger, her perfect plan of action immediately falls apart. Woods has met her match. And, she hates him. Despite her mother Sara (Frances Fisher) constantly telling Audrey that he's a good-looking man, and ignoring the fact that he seems a little bit smitten by this bright yet obsessively prim redhead, she's determined to demolish Rafferty before his charmed career overshadows her own any further. He is a great kisser, though. Steady girl, business is business. Especially considering her next client, fashion designing diva Serena (Parker Posey), up and switched to hiring Daniel after reading his book, 'For better or for Worse'. Sending Audrey across the Atlantic Ocean to research the ancient Irish castle co-owned by Serena's infamously philandering rock star husband Thorne Jamison (Michael Sheen), in a bid to tenaciously represent him, crush her rival, and win back some much-needed pride. Of course, Rafferty's also there. And, after a raucous night of drinks and dancing at a local festival, it soon becomes clear that there's definitely chemistry between these two legal eagles. Maybe a little too much, considering they awake together the next morning sporting wedding bands. Forcing them to return to New York and at least give the impression of living under the same roof as man and wife, continuing to practice against each other under mounting media interest, until Audrey can figure out how quickly they can get whatever sort of binding ceremony that took place in their drunken haze annulled. Problem is, Daniel's not so sure he wants their marriage to end before the honeymoon has even begun, as he slides a proper ring on her finger...

Quite frankly, if you're a fan of the great Spencer Tracey (1900-1967) and Katharine Hepburn (1907-2003) classic Oscar-nominated romantic comedies 'Adam's Rib' (1949) or 'Pat and Mike' (1952) - both co-written by Ruth Gordon and Garson Kanin, you'll undoubtedly enjoy this similar contemporary love story rife with uproarious laughs and heaps of feel good moments. This Hollywood offering is truly deserving of that sort of normally widely misused comparison, folks. Moore is absolutely stunning in this role, thankfully stepping out of her usual visibly uncertain and Mime-like acting to give you a capably adorable neurotic who seamlessly shifts gears from being a sharp professional one moment to being a bumbling goofball in the next, with impeccably perfect timing throughout. Awesome. It helps that Aline Brosh McKenna's and veteran Robert Harling's wonderfully tight screenplay clips along at an impressively fresh pace, keeping a paying audience thoroughly captivated as this onscreen odd couple continually get pushed into each other's lives and the sparks begin to fly in all directions. Sheer cinematic electricity is the result. Brosnan shines here, breathing incredibly impressive life into a role that could have so easily become bland and unconvincing in comparison to Moore's stellar performance. Sure, 'Laws of Attraction' is an undeniable 'chick flick' and has obviously been promoted as such in the ads and theatre trailers, but because this leading male character is fleshed out with such a fully charismatic and interesting personality that's not often seen in this genre anymore, this hour and thirty-seven minute surprise gem becomes a far more entertaining escapade than what moviegoers have ended up shelling out for and sitting through in a long while. Just the tiny details, such as their use of a stupid leprechaun figurine, are truly delightful reoccurring asides that pull you in and make you start agonizing over how this unfolding romance will turn out. Even though it's a huge puzzle why director Peter Howitt seemed resolved in allowing most of the supporting cast, including Posey and Sheen, to nosedive towards becoming little more than boisterously annoying caricatures that sometimes needlessly fill up the screen with their silly blatherings, the outstanding main story involving Audrey Woods and Daniel Rafferty almost magically lifts this entire effort to an often hilarious and completely charming level that you can't help but gobble up like a favourite dessert with extra sprinkles. Definitely do yourself a big favour and check out this smart and witty flick for its excellent performances and a superbly crafted main story. Good stuff.

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Love Me if You Dare
REVIEWED 06/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Unintentionally answering the question of how many different versions of Louis 'Louiguy' Gugliemi's classic 1930's ballad "La Vie en Rose" made famous by the iconic singer Édith 'Piaf' Giovanna Gassion (1915-1963) can be crammed into a ninety-three minute soundtrack, French writer/director Yann Samuell's lavishly quirky subtitled 'Jeux d'enfants' (2003) follows the hugely romantic yet oftentimes destructive Simon Says-like game played by Parisians Julien Janvier (Guillaume Canet) and Sophie Kowalsky (Marion Cotillard) ever since they first met one fateful day at eight years old.

This picture's devilishly clever auteur wonderfully demonstrates a wry panache for visual metaphor throughout, dragging you willingly into the sometimes wildly bizarre inner world of Julien from early childhood to age thirty-five, as this rollicking hilarious love story clicks out like a contemporary twist on a Shakespearean play or a Greek Tragedy. Samuell acknowledges that last influence at this movie's official website hosted by US distributor Paramount, citing that he ended up drafting twenty-four versions of the script over two years, after coming up with the premise in a day. Fresh and captivating, this over-all astounding tale does resemble the boisterous free spirit of 'Amélie' (2001) at times, but thoroughly captures the freeing addictive lunacy of love on its own terms as these two intelligent characters painfully avoid their obvious passion for each other whenever their otherwise mundane paths cross. They're each other's deliciously pernicious muse, fuelled by the brightly painted tin box - that Janvier's cancer-stricken beloved mother gave him before her death - that inspires an instant adrenaline rush within them every time the game progresses from the silly pranks of their youth to overwhelming life-altering momentary euphoria.

Even when locked in their separate reasonably successful grown up relationships, Julien and Sophie are undeniably linked souls that kill your heart each time they're pulled apart, making this delightfully satisfying romp a truly riveting spectacle that keeps you guessing and completely mesmirized by what unfolds. There have probably already been hours spent in sleep-depriving conversations worldwide over the exquisitely imaginative ending alone. Sure, 'Love Me if You Dare' (its international title) is an unabashedly over the top melodramatic tearjerker of monumentally disproportionate obsession for diehard incurable romantics. What's wrong with that? Absolutely nothing. Do yourself an incredible favour and hunt down this brilliant acclaimed masterpiece as a sumptuous Valentine's delight well worth checking out anytime on the big screen or as a much-treasured foreign rental. Truly spellbinding.

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Little Black Book
REVIEWED 08/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Brittany Murphy stars in this fairly quirky, dark comedy as bright-eyed and hopeful five foot three inches tall New Jersey girl Stacy Holt, the new assistant producer at Trenton's local WWEN TV station - home of the ratings-popular reality/exploitative daytime Kippie Kaan Do Show - under the wing of recently separated veteran producer Barbara Campbell-Dunn (Holly Hunter), who dubiously encourages this naive underling to pry into her hockey scout boyfriend Derek's (Ron Livingston) past relationships after he surprisingly cites previously dating lanky 5' 7" European supermodel Lulu Fritz (former Sports Illustrated swimsuit poser Josie Maran), and then Barb and Stacy discover a digital slide show of his perky auburn-haired ex-girlfriend Joyce Moore (Julianne Nicholson) on his palm-sized electronic day planner. The truth is a terrible and marvelous thing, indeed.

It's great to see Murphy cast in a role where portraying a neurotic is actually funny for a change, but because newcomer Melissa Carter's and Elisa Bell's ('National Lampoon's Vegas Vacation' (1997), 'Sleepover' (2004)) script heavily leans towards ridiculous campiness throughout, a lot of the humour here feels forced and slightly desperate at times. Sure, 'Little Black Book' is definitely intended as a typical Chick Flick, rife with copious amounts of tear-smudged mascara and sudden bouts of euphoric giddiness, but I suspect that most women would find director Nick Hurran's ('Girls' Night' (1998), 'Undertaking Betty' (2002)) hour and forty-seven minute screen offering fairly patronizing and unnecessarily bloated with silly caricatures as well. It's pretty obvious that the entire main cast - which includes Rashida Jones as upwardly mobile vitamin-peddling Gynecologist and ex-lover #3 Dr. Rachel Keyes, and Kathy Bates as the bombastic talk show personality Kaan - had a blast with this movie. However, a paying audience is pretty well forced to sit through a lot of fairly pedantic dialogue and a host of detracting sub-plots, that it quickly becomes a chore slogging through this turkey for the half dozen worthwhile laughs that feel as though they thankfully snuck into the final cut by mistake. Yes, the premise is an impressive one. Yes, Murphy and Hunter do a fairly good job here. Frankly, 'Little Black Book' would have hit its mark as a much more effective crowd-pleaser if Hurran had stayed on course and hadn't let the endless parade of hopeless asides and bug-eyed supporting players interfere with the main story. You know something is wrong when a chimpanzee is seen wandering around backstage in order to get your attention. Yawn.

Check it out as a fun rental if you're a big fan of these otherwise capable actors - or if you can never get enough of soundtrack references to multiple award-winning singer/songwriter Carly Simon - but I can't really recommend this one as a worthwhile piece of big screen entertainment.

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Luther
REVIEWED 10/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Primarily spotlighting the famously turbulent mid-life of German-born former Law student, Augustinian priest and Christian theologian Doctor Martin 'Luther' Luder (1483-1546) during the tumultuous reign of Pope Leo X (a.k.a. Giovanni di Lorenzo de Medici, 1475-1521) from 1513 until Leo's death, Brit actor Joseph Fiennes ('Shakespeare in Love' (1998), 'Enemy at the Gates' (2001)) reenacts this privately troubled yet openly rebellious father of Protestant Reformation as Luther acts upon his disgust with the Holy See's interpretation of - and what he considered an heretical corruption of - the Word of God. Specifically regarding the church's circus-like encouragement of parishioners' worship-like pilgrimages to witness sometimes-suspicious religious relics and to buy passage out of purgatory and into heaven through such indulgences for a hefty price. Facetiously citing as University of Wittenberg's Professor of Theology to his class that various earthly bits from eighteen of the twelve Apostles are on display in Spain, and that "there are enough nails from Christ's cross to shoe every horse in Rome." The Pope desperately needed the money to reignite the Holy Roman Empire, stave off the Turkish army and expand Christianity into the New World, as well as build The Vatican's magnificently domed St. Peter's Basilica, but Martin persisted in pushing for reformation at all costs. First resulting in him (apparently now arguably) nailing his then-controversial 95 Theses; entitled 'Disputation of Doctor Martin Luther on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences', arguing such so-called treacherous things as "Who knows whether all the souls in purgatory wish to be bought out of it..." (29) and "The true treasure of the Church is the Most Holy Gospel of the glory and the grace of God" (62), to the door of Wittenberg's Castle Church on October 31, 1517, and then subsequently exacerbating the growing tinderbox of peasant revolt and facing possible execution by flagrantly undermining Papal authority in translating the New Testament from Latin and Greek into common German while in hiding, after being publicly excommunicated in 1521.

This visually lush offering from Genie and Gemini Award-nominated director Eric Till ('If You Could See What I Hear' (1982), 'Duct Tape Forever' (2002)) is in many ways a delightful cinematic examination of this hugely controversial, historical figure. Despite becoming overtly burdened by Clive Barrett's fairly loose editing style during the opening scenes, being bogged down by affected Hollywood-like contrivances at times, and made somewhat enigmatic by an apparent expectation from Camille Thomasson's and Bart Gavigan's screenplay that a paying audience has done some serious homework beforehand in order to keep up, this picture's incredibly capable supporting cast still manages to live their heavily costumed roles with wondrous panache throughout much of its two hour and thirteen minute length. Sir Peter Ustinov ((1921-2004) 'Death on the Nile' (1978), 'Lorenzo's Oil (1992)) does an outstanding, often hilarious job as Luther's impishly inconspicuous guardian, Prince Friedrich III (1463-1525), in one of Ustinov's last big screen roles here opposite Jonathan Firth's ('Wuthering Heights' (1992), 'Six-Pack' (2000)) regal Secretary and Martin's wise longtime friend Girolamo Aleandro, with Alfred Molina ('Maverick (1994), 'Spider-Man 2' (2004)) pulling in a fabulously memorable performance as Dominican priest and grandstanding traveling relic showman Johann Tetzel (1465-1519). The efforts of these three alone are well worth an interested look. Unfortunately, the main failure of this ambitious Period flick falls squarely in Fiennes' lap due to his aggravatingly stoic disinterest in injecting enough raw enthusiasm at key moments to keep the momentum going. Clearly, Martin Luther was a mulish, volcano of passion who could eloquently captivate his students and followers with words, and yet Fiennes chooses to internalize most of that fire and filter the frustrated rage through clever verbatim sermons here, pushing a lot of what could have been powerfully human moments into a couple of private self-loathing, expletive-riddled rants quietly overheard by Luther's lifetime mentor (Father Johann von Staupitz, flawlessly played by Bruno Ganz). It doesn't work.

Definitely check out this inspired 2003 release for the incredibly rich on-location scenery and some wonderfully captivating performances from this magnificent ensemble cast, but probably more as a curious rental, and really only if you're a huge fan of any of these fine talents.

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Lemony Snicket's: A Series of Unfortunate Events
REVIEWED 12/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

On the very same day that their rambling Boston family mansion was left in charred ruins by a mysterious fire that also took their loving mother and father, the Baudelaire children - now the Baudelaire orphans - were bundled into the backseat of banker and estate executor Mr. Poe (Timothy Spall; 'Gothic' (1986), 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' (2004)), and driven exactly thirty-seven solemn city blocks to their nearest relative. Violet Baudelaire (Emily Browning; 'Darkness Falls' (2003), 'Ghost Ship' (2002)), the eldest at fourteen years old and the most inventive one of these intelligent children, instinctively suspected that something was terribly wrong when she, her bookworm brother Klaus (Liam Aiken; 'Stepmom' (1998), 'Good Boy!' (2003)), and their infant sister Sunny (played by Kara and Shelby Hoffman) were led through the grey gnarled yard to the large and dilapidated manor of their new guardian: The grey and gnarled and very large and dilapidated Actor, Count Olaf (Jim Carrey; 'Ace Ventura: Pet Detective' (1994), 'Bruce Almighty' (2003)). Fortunately, the Baudelaires are soon able to escape Olaf's murderous machinations towards plundering their dead parents' fortune, and Violet, Klaus and Sunny find refuge with renowned herpetologist and far nicer Uncle Montgomery 'Monty' Montgomery (Billy Connolly; 'Mrs. Brown' (1997), 'The Last Samurai' (2003)). All seems ripe for a happy ending, until Olaf reappears more blood thirsty and greedier than ever, disguised as Monty's replacement assistant Stefano, and the orphans are once again delivered into the guardianship of another decidedly eccentric distant relative near the rocky shore of Lake Lachrymose - with the Count already hatching another fiendish scheme to control the Baudelaire fortune by any deadly means at his disposal.

This movie is an absolute riot. Adapted from The Bad Beginning (1999), The Reptile Room (1999), and The Wide Window (2000) - the first three books from the macabre young reader series by author Daniel Handler - 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' is an hilarious mixture of Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist, Charles Addams' ghoulish Addams Family comic strip, and Rube Goldberg's bizarre contraptions all similarly seen in such cinematic peers as 'Beetlejuice' and 'Edward Scissorhands', and yet made entirely fresh by Robert Gordon's extremely well crafted screenplay. Director Brad Silberling ('Casper' (1995), 'City of Angels' (1998)) completely immerses you into this strangely contemporary but overwhelmingly Gothic world of the Baudelaires almost as soon as their story begins, giving each of these main characters a luxuriously dismal environment to cut a path through. Carrey is his usual cranked up bombastic onscreen persona here, perfectly cast as the ever devilish and outrageously self-absorbed thespian who never quite manages to mask himself while reappearing as Stefano opposite snake expert Monty - or as the t'underin' peg legged scalawag Cap'n Sham, to fool the children's good hearted hypochondriac Aunt Josephine (Meryl Streep; 'Sophie's Choice' (1982), 'The Hours' (2002)). Frankly, it's the adult co-stars who make this two hour visual extravaganza such a memorable delight. While still very good, it's obvious that Browning, Aiken and the Hoffman twins really weren't given much in the way of character development to work with and simply move the story along as starring tour guides from one house of horrors to the next. Making 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' far less of a children's movie than it appears to be from the outset, and clearly far too scary for toddlers. What's unclear is if a franchise will grow out of Handler's popular books in the same way that author J.K. Rowling's hugely successful Harry Potter series has, or if Carrey will buck his trend of never reprising his big screen roles following the disastrous 'Ace Ventura 2', but it's a sure bet that a paying audience of fun-loving moviegoers will undoubtedly have a blast enjoying this uproarious rollercoaster ride from beginning to closing credits. Awesome.

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The Life Aquatic
REVIEWED 12/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Renowned award-winning cinematographer and oceanographer Steve Zissou (Bill Murray; 'Groundhog Day' (1993), 'Lost in Translation' (2003)) faces an onslaught of problems. First off, a gigantic, endangered Jaguar Shark ate his life-long ally and friend Estaban de Plantier (Seymour Cassel; 'Trees Lounge' (1996), 'Stuck On You' (2003)) in front of him, during their recently filmed deep sea expedition. The subsequent documentary - Part One of Team Zissou's twelfth adventure - easily garnered audience applause during its debut screening in Italy, but this spry fifty-two year old remains haunted by his terrible loss. His second problem is that Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson; 'Armageddon' (1998), 'Starsky & Hutch' (2004)), a young airline co-pilot from Jawbone, Kentucky, has appeared at that grand opening night claiming to probably be Zissou's estranged son. Steve's better half and second wife Eleanor (Anjelica Huston; 'Addams Family Values' (1993), 'Daddy Day Care' (2003)) is extremely suspicious of Ned, eventually storming off of their rustic Mediterranean island base when Plimpton is summarily hired on. Lastly, long time financial advisor Oseary Drakoulias (Michael Gambon; 'The Cook the Thief His Wife & Her Lover' (1989), 'Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow' (2004)) informs Zissou that the money to continue his daring oceanic excursions has dried up. Steve's waning fame and unstable mental condition has become a liability, making him a target of ridicule. However, when Ned offers to invest his inheritance, and Drakoulias finally manages to convince the Marine Society and the Bank to back another sea borne romp, Team Zissou once again sets out upon the open waves on the Belafonte - their Calypso-like refurbished WWII mine sweeper turned traveling laboratory and film production studio - to track down, and to fight, and maybe use dynamite to blow up the elusive underwater eating machine that killed de Plantier. That is, if pirates don't find them first.

This irreverent homage to world famous former French Naval officer, Resistance fighter and co-inventor of the Aqua-lung, respected oceanographer and Oscar-winning documentary maker Jacques-Yves Cousteau (1910-1997) is an absolute treat. Co-writer Noah Baumbach and co-writer/director Wes Anderson ('Rushmore' (1998), 'The Royal Tenenbaums' (2001)) wonderfully create a vaguely alternate world for Murray's trademark red-capped and Speedo-wearing, Cousteau-like yet bitterly sardonic Zissou. Heavily borrowing several aspects from the real life adventures documented in the much-loved television series 'The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau' (1966-1973), in order to fully realize this exceptionally captivating, low key comedy of errors. Anyone who remembers that ground breaking show will probably take great pleasure in picking out the often-times funny similarities here. You can instantly tell that this cast - which also co-stars Cate Blanchett ('Elizabeth' (1998), 'The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers' (2002)) as pregnant, head strong magazine assignment journalist Jane Winslett-Richardson, Willem Dafoe ('Platoon' (1986), 'The Clearing' (2004)) playing up his quirky role as first mate engineer Klaus Daimler, and Jeff Goldblum ('The Fly' (1986), 'Igby Goes Down' (2002)), Zissou's sworn antagonist Alistair Hennessey - all had a blast while filming this eccentric labour of love. Yes, many of the scenes do feel unpolished and slightly hackneyed at times, but even those minor flaws tend to enhance the over-all from-the-hip, mockumentary flavour of this delightfully fresh hundred and eighteen-minute magical mystery tour. Fans of 'This is Spinal Tap' (1984) and 'A Mighty Wind' (2003) will undoubtedly revel in thorough enjoyment over this outrageously self-effacing cinematic treasure. The crisp dialogue and unaffected acting mixed with moments of surreal audacity throughout, beautifully highlighted by Seu Jorge's ('Cidade de Deus' (2002)) mesmerizing on-screen acoustic renditions of various David Bowie songs seamlessly translated into Portuguese as shipmate Pelé dos Santos, aptly immerse an eager paying audience head first into this amazing fictional landscape. Brilliant. 'The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou' (its complete title) likely won't be everyone's cup of tea, but if you're a fan of Bill Murray's stylishly irreverent sense of wry human drama, this decidedly mature yet wildly playful movie is an absolute must-see on the big screen.

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A Lot Like Love
REVIEWED 04/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

In five years - six, at the most - young Oliver Martin (Ashton Kutcher; 'The Butterfly Effect' (2004), 'Guess Who' (2005)) planned to have a great job, a great house, a car and a wife. It's true. That's what this then-unemployed LA college grad still living with his parents had told skeptical New Yorker Emily Friehl (Amanda Peet; 'Changing Lanes' (2002), 'Something's Gotta Give' (2003)) on that cool autumn weekend in Manhattan over double shots of Tennessee Whiskey during the second brief time they'd met. The first time they'd met was after catching each other's eye at LAX turned into a passionate, mile high fling as nameless strangers when Emily, uh, joined Oliver in their plane's cramped washroom, but there was something more intriguing about her that stayed with him. And, vice versa. Not exactly love, or simple lust, but something intangibly lasting that compelled them both to develop a mutually deep fondness. Still, they parted ways as the world of adults set their paths in different directions. Hooking up again on New Year's Eve four years later, when Friehl - now an aspiring actress living in California - called the phone number that he'd given her in that empty NYC bar, way back when life was far more cut and dry. This time, even though Martin's private company selling diapers on the internet had monopolized his priorities, it was like nothing had changed between them. The old feelings were still there. However, once again, they were in the right place at the wrong time and ended up quickly part ways. Twelve months later, with his successful company riding the internet boom of the mid-Nineties but his marriage left in shambles, Oliver recognizes a framed colour photograph on display in a San Francisco storefront gallery that he'd seen on Emily's apartment wall of contact sheets and amateur snap shots years earlier. Could this be his chance to do what he knows they should have done a long time ago, or will he just humiliate himself by being too late in telling Emily that he loves her? Would she still want him - or even remember him - after all this time had passed? If you're not willing to sound stupid, you don't deserve to be in love…

Wow. This incredibly entertaining romantic comedy from director Nigel Cole ('Saving Grace' (2000), 'Calendar Girls' (2003)) is a truly astounding and thoroughly enjoyable gem. Frankly, only those who've forgotten what it's like to be young and struck head over heals in love could possibly find fault with Colin Patrick Lynch's hugely inspired screenplay. Peet and Kutcher pull in astoundingly strong and immediately personable performances throughout, obviously having a blast as their characters trade delightfully acerbic banter and contagiously goofy playfulness in this hundred and seven-minute chick flick that's clearly the movie date must-see of the year so far. It's been a while since I can remember laughing out loud at a film several times because it was intentionally funny in all the right places, so this one definitely gets my vote of thanks. It's the brilliantly timed, hilariously anecdotal asides masterfully balanced on a slender, fragile heart string of incurably romantic hope at all costs that collectively push this one to a higher level of complete satisfaction than what a paying audience probably expects to sit through going in. You can't help but be drawn in by this bundle of surprises and random barriers that achingly keep these two perfect soul mates from being together longer than a few hours over the span of several years. Even the one or two guys visibly dragged by their girlfriends to the predominantly female-attended screening that I was at had a great time with this one long before the closing credits. Sure, it's predictable Hollywood pretense that feels heavily borrowed from 'When Harry Met Sally' (1989) at times. So what? As sappy as any guilty, sugary indulgence is unabashedly bad for you, you still want to keep going back to it anyways because it just feels good, right? 'A Lot Like Love' successfully gives you exactly what you want from this genre in an imaginatively clever and irreverently funny way, making this decidedly mature-oriented confection absolutely well worth the price of admission at the big screen. Awesome.

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Look at Me
REVIEWED 04/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Lolita Cassard (Marilou Berry) wants to feel loved. Of course, she hates that her ever-brooding and self-infatuated, famed novelist father Étienne (Jean-Pierre Bacri) only pays attention to her when he's pointing out that she's fat. She hates that everyone - including her mildly attentive, maybe boyfriend - seems to only want to notice her because she's his daughter, and not for who she is. Even Sébastien (Keine Bouhiza) probably only likes her because his attempts at journalism could benefit from him meeting The Great Étienne Cassard. That's likely why taking Opera singing classes is so important to her. People need to appreciate her, even if that only means appreciating her amateur arias. "She has a nice voice," Sylvia Millet (Agnès Jaoui) tells everyone in an awkwardly encouraging tone. However, even she is starting to tire of Lolita's relentless enthusiasm during Millet's classes, grumbling to hubby Pierre (Laurent Grévill) while he obsesses over his burgeoning career as a writer apparently stalling before it has a chance to gain more than a couple of politely positive reviews. Everything changes though, with a phone number that Lolita hands to Sylvia - who just so happens to be a huge fan of Étienne's books. She didn't know that her student was related to him, and suddenly stops grumbling about affording more vocal tutoring for the sake of possibly meeting this literary celebrity in person. Pierre's interest is also piqued, happily surprised when the Millet's are invited to Cassard's summer home for the weekend and Étienne takes him under his wing. None of this helps Lolita, as the night of an exclusive concert that she's due to sing at draws near and her father still isn't interested in listening to her recording.

This wonderfully wry, subtitled 2004 Cannes winner from French co-writer/actor/director Agnès Jaoui is a surprisingly insightful and humourously clever examination of popularity and how it effects people who have it, those who want it, and those who get caught up in the thrill of being associated with fame. Just the manner in which Jaoui's and Jean-Pierre Bacri's screenplay reveals the social aspects of being a writer getting in the way of actually writing anything worth printing is sheer genius, with Bacri easily stealing the spotlight throughout as this lovably venomous curmudgeon struggling to tenuously keep his priorities straight as his own life slowly falls apart. Of course, Berry is clearly this hundred and ten-minute picture's star as her character awkwardly deals with being just as guilty of blind idol worship to the detriment of herself and others, while continually bursting into pouty tears over always being ignored. Brilliant. This feature is rife with hilariously outstanding skits made all the more worthwhile by its sharp dialogue bantered back and forth amongst these capably believable characters. Frankly, my only complaint is with the noticeably uneven editing relentlessly disrupting this offering's over-all pacing while you're trying to tap in to what's unfolding across the big screen. It makes the simple fluidity of storytelling feel somewhat disjointed and poorly planned here. However, 'Comme une image' (its original title) is still an extraordinarily enjoyable screening packed with memorably underplayed acting and delightfully blunt musings all culminating in a satisfying ending. Definitely check out this deliciously dry foreign flick that's well worth the price of admission.

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The Longest Yard
REVIEWED 05/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Based on the famous, Oscar-nominated 1974 Burt Reynolds ('Sharky's Machine' (1981), 'Without a Paddle' (2004)) and Eddie Albert (1908-2005) prison sports comedy, director Peter Segal's updated yet selectively identical version plays out more like a campy holiday that's lazily captured on film, rather than the hilarious comedic vehicle for Adam Sandler ('Happy Gilmore' (1996), '50 First Dates' (2004)) - as maligned former MVP Quarterback Paul 'Wrecking' Crewe opposite Chris Rock's ('Lethal Weapon 4' (1998), 'Head of State' (2003)) chatty middleman role as the Caretaker - that a paying audience might expect to find. Where the original - which you can't help but compare it to, frankly - was a clever mixture of 'Cool Hand Luke' (1967) drama and (at the time) a more extreme glimpse at bad boy brawling and dirty tricks, Segal's version opts for deliberately mindless drivel mixed with bland sophomoric punch lines rolled up into a gumdrop for the MTV generation. The humour this time around feels more like it was borrowed from duller moments in 'White Men Can't Jump' (1992) or 'The Replacements' (2000), featuring a motley cast of dismally stereotypical, incarcerated caricatures whose reasons of existing seem to merely be in order to fluff up this poorly realized picture's overwhelming amount of fairly pedantic grid iron shenanigans.

'The Longest Yard' is basically a tritely self-infatuated live action cartoon meant for the rock 'em, sock 'em ESPN crowd, with Sheldon Turner's horribly boring screenplay offering nothing new to moviegoers hoping to see Sandler do anything other than sleep walk through his starring role here - apparently still on whatever finger puppet medication sent him forgettably slothing through 'Spanglish' (2004). Of course I realize that this turkey is supposed to be a rollicking romp pitting Allenville's nonsensically flat headed correctional officers against ridiculously cheerful, wise cracking convicted criminals all out for a good ol' time playing football, but it doesn't work. It's not funny. Much of the pretense, where these so-called hardened lifers seem to have unfettered run of the joint, doesn't make any sense. It's not fun to sit through, except as a vacuous piece of brain cell killing, cinematic trash. Talent is clearly wasted throughout, as you find yourself discovering that most of the best lines have already been regurgitated and over played in the ads and trailers promoting it. You're almost forced to feel awkwardly obligated to crack a guffaw whenever it feels as though the kid hired for a nickel to activate the canned laughter machine also must have slipped into a coma along with you.

Yes, it's that aggravating and disappointing. Other than these otherwise proven actors possibly fulfilling an unwanted studio contract or needing to quickly scrounge up a condo mortgage payment, there really wasn't any reason for this disaster to be made or released for big screen distribution. Just rent the original, you can thank me later.

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Lords of Dogtown
REVIEWED 06/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

According to the web (more specifically, www.sonyclassics.com/ dogtown/), this stylish and thoroughly enjoyable hundred and seven-minute movie is born from film industry reactions to a 1999 Spin magazine article that reportedly started former Santa Monica skateboard celebrity turned screenwriter/film maker Stacy Peralta's phone ringing non-stop. However, how Hollywood would ultimately tell the true story of the fifteen teenaged members of California-based Zephyr Surfboard Shop's "Zee-Boys" - the boys and girls who single handedly revived and reinvented skate boarding from the wheels up, from their East Coast slum known as Dogtown, and by unlawfully honing their unorthodox maneuvers in the nearby drought-fraught swimming pools of the rich in the mid-Seventies - was something that Peralta was understandably worried about. This was his life, as well as the stuff of legend. So, along with penning the screenplay for 'Lords of Dogtown', he made a lot of calls and collaborated with famed Zephyr Team chronicler Craig Stecyk, and then ended up directing the acclaimed documentary 'Dogtown and Z-Boys' (2001).

The above website is for that flick, but it could easily be of interest to anyone who shares my enthusiasm for director Catherine Hardwicke's wonderfully realized Dogtown dramatization starring that competitive team's three notably spotlight savvy stars. John Robinson ('Elephant' (2003)) as Stacy, Emile Hirsch ('The Girl Next Door' (2004)) as Jay 'Jayman' Adams, and Victor Rasuk ('Raising Victor Vargas' (2002)) as Tony Alva all pull in incredibly captivating performances throughout here, believably presenting these characters for a paying audience to completely tap into and follow along for the ride. Sure, cinematographer Elliot Davis' lens doesn't exactly capture the extreme thrill whenever this well-crafted story gets sidelined by Hardwicke's need to make moviegoers feel like Tony Hawk (who has an awkwardly misplaced cameo as an astronaut here), but the gritty and independent atmosphere of the time is beautifully shown over-all. You really do get an honest sense of what it was like in 1975, right down to the splintered landscape of that era's youth. 'Lords of Dogtown' also has an incredibly good soundtrack, easily winning my praise for featuring a deliciously unhealthy chunk of favourite tunes from my formative years. However, what truly makes this offering such a delightfully surprising treasure is the acting, with Hirsch easily leading the pack as a disenfranchised and increasingly self-destructive Adams wildly hurling himself towards arguably becoming the unintentional father of this sport's Punk-inspired sub-culture, while his two equally competent close friends reap the financial benefits of product endorsements as world championship wunderkinds. His seamless on-screen transformation could easily be considered one of the few notable breakthrough roles of the year so far. Awesome. There's hardly a single scene or line of dialogue that's wasted, with Heath Ledger ('A Knight's Tale' (2001), 'The Order' (2003)) doing a reasonably good job portraying the Z-Boys' gregariously strung out and rather exploitative, beach bum manager Skip. Also, keep a sharp eye open for glimpses of the real Peralta and Alva, who apparently stand in as stunt doubles for the actors playing them. All the same, it's rated PG-13, for what the MPAA cites as "drug and alcohol content, sexuality, violence, language and reckless behavior - all involving teens". All true. Throw caution to the wind and go see it anyways.

Even if you aren't a skateboard fan, definitely make the effort to check out this totally gnarly - uh, I mean thoroughly satisfying drama for its extraordinarily rich characters and brilliantly superior storytelling.

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Land of the Dead
REVIEWED 06/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Last night was ruggedly stoic Riley Denbow's (Simon Baker) last night as leader of the rag tag crew of armed scavengers risking their lives to bring supplies and medicine back to what's left of Unionville City. To his weary mind, the enemy had won. Stenchers - the relentlessly growing and mercilessly bloody thirsty population of walking, mutilated Undead that contaminated every borough and town that lay razed and ruined after the epidemic poisoned the world almost a generation ago - were unstoppable. Hunt them down and blast their heads off, and more rise up in their place. You can try to avoid them, but if a Stencher sinks its teeth into you, you turn into one of them. You die, and then you become a zombie, mindlessly in search of living flesh to feed on. A beast that never sleeps or feels, forever trapped in nightmarish limbo until a bullet to the brain hopefully brings some semblance of eternal peace. The few pockets of humans still surviving like those huddled in Unionville's heavily guarded fenced in slums don't know it yet, but this is a doomed war that's already lost. Last night, Riley was through with the gruesome horror show that always endangered every carefully planned raid into each infested zone. Twenty-four hours ago, he still figured that he could test his luck and drive North. Cholo (John Leguizamo), his brutally grimy Second in Command, says there's nobody in Canada. Riley needs to believe it. Life would be safer up there, miles away from everyone and everything. Twenty-four hours ago, he looked forward to finally turning his back on this eroding brick and steel pit of despair that's surrounded by an unquenchable cesspool of lumbering death. That was before things got complicated. His car is gone. He's been thrown in jail. And, Cholo has disappeared with his crew's gun laden battle bus they call Dead Reckoning, threatening to launch its missiles at the gleaming luxury tower and headquarters of this city's opportunistic, self-appointed overlord Mr. Kaufman (Dennis Hopper) if he doesn't cough up a hefty ransom by midnight. Kaufman gives Riley little choice but to head out beyond the compound at nightfall, swiftly intercept and neutralize this goon turned rogue. However, there's also one other problem. As hard as it is to figure out how, the Stenchers appear to be heading his way as a mobilized army ready to attack.

Wow. This much anticipated third sequel to horrormeister writer/director George A. Romero's ('Monkey Shines' (1988)) ground breaking classic 'Night of the Living Dead' (1968) is an absolutely enjoyable, thoroughly disgusting and gory guilty pleasure laced with wry humour from beginning to closing credits. Simon Baker ('Red Planet' (2000), 'The Ring Two' (2005)) and John Leguizamo ('To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar' (1995), 'Assault on Precinct 13' (2005)) have a blast with their mutually antagonistic roles, heading up an impressive cast of both lucid and putrefied caricatures that cleverly flesh out the mix of soldiers and militia and food, with Dennis Hopper ('Easy Rider' (1969), 'Knockaround Guys' (2001)) pulling in a great performance as Mr. Kaufman, the perniciously Machiavellian overlord of the crumbling city's luxuriously exclusive haven called Fiddler's Green (fairly recognizable as architect Santiago Caltrava's vaulted BCE Place Galleria on Toronto's Bay Street). The battle bus Dead Reckoning is also a fun nod back to 'Damnation Alley' (1977). Romero wonderfully picks up where his landmark, black and white thriller, as well as his subsequently bloody 'Dawn of the Dead' (1978) and 'Day of the Dead' (1985), left off, truly giving this cult genre a much needed boost into new realms of utter terror. It's not a rehash. Of course, 'George A. Romero's Land of the Dead' (its complete title) is still basically about a trigger happy band of The Living fending off the lumbering Living Dead's voracious appetite for tasty human morsels. You'll probably want to avoid eating a messy plate of barbecue ribs or a sloppy pizza while sitting through it - although, that fairly gross ad for the Mac's convenience store's Bloody Zit iced drink slotted in before this screening's trailers here in Canada is appropriate, in an hilariously macabre way. However, unlike the physically accelerated yet still dim-witted ghoulies seen in '28 Days Later...' (2002) and the recent 'Dawn of the Dead' (2004) remake, this resurrected throng of corpses' intellectual evolution is incredibly ingenious. It adds a completely new dimension that's beautifully relayed by their leader, television's 'TekWar: The Movie' (1994) co-star Eugene Clark's ('Wilder' (2000)) Big Daddy, masterfully blurring the definition of who's good or bad in this war for humanity's survival. People are bad due to greed or some other vice, where zombies can't help but be bad in the same way that predators in the wild are considered bad. So, when you see our gun toting, supply foraging heroes mercilessly punch a hail of bullets into these stumbling, growling monsters, what would have been considered more of the same gratuitous violence seen in previous cinematic incarnations now takes on a tinge of genocidal ethnic cleansing. It's brilliant. In this regard, Romero clearly revisits one of the most telling themes covered in his 'Night of the Living Dead': Racism. There, an African-American saves a small group of survivors, only to be killed by police because of bad information and bigotry. Here, an African-American zombie insightfully inspires his followers to become more than what they are, despite them being fearfully hunted, ruthlessly exploited and summarily murdered because of bad information and bigotry. No, I'm not grasping at straws in order to elevate this ninety-four minute horror onto a plateau of stratospheric dramatic significance. It still is what it is. And, it's more. The parallels are obvious, though, easily securing 'Land of the Dead' as a modern classic that's sure to inspire a new generation of Undead movies where whatever remains between these hungry cadavers' ears is used for more than simple target practice. This one truly marks the dawn of a new era.

Definitely check out this immensely satisfying gore fest for the usual heaps of gruesomely entertaining pulp, as well as for Romero's refreshing achievement in redefining this genre as something much more fascinating for fans to chew on.

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Ladies in Lavender
REVIEWED 07/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The bright, morning Sun stretches over the rolling English tide that ebbs and neaps along this Cornish shoreline. Aged spinster Miss Ursula Widdington (Judi Dench) loves this time of the day, after a storm, when their three-storey stone cottage is softly cradled in crisp air fresh with dew and the sweet scent of the countryside cleansed by rain. Her older sister, the widow Janet (Maggie Smith), joins Ursula in their garden. The sea breeze feels good. Full of promise. Blissful. No-matter how dreadful the daily wireless news of Prime Minister Chamberlain and Hitler's Germany becomes, the clear dawn seems to shield this patch of Heaven from the return of war and the world's woes beyond these ancient trees that shade their narrow lane. And then, Ursula sees something. "What's that?" she asks, pointing out the beached flotsam orphaned from a doomed ship bound for America, swallowed whole by the depths during the night's tumult. The man, Andrea (Daniel Brühl), is very young, and is carried up to the sisters' spare bedroom with a broken ankle that Dr. Mead (David Warner) soon puts on the mend. Ursula is pleased, quietly smitten by this wounded Polish waif, eager to help him learn English after Janet quickly realizes that he speaks German. He also plays the violin beautifully. It's such a treasure to have a man in the house again. To have him bring such lovely music into their lives. Andrea looks quite dapper indeed, in the proper Tweed suit that they've gone into town to have tailored for him at their dearly departed father's favourite haberdashery. Although, they could do without the presence of that young artist, Olga (Natascha McElhone), who always manages to appear whenever Andrea plays his tunes for them. "I've a keen dislike for that woman," Janet bristles. "She's like a witch in a fairly tale." Ursula silently agrees, shaken by her dreaming fantasies of their guest ending in the heartbreak of seeing Andrea and Olga entwined in passion. Dr. Mead is more forthright with his unease, disturbed that Olga rebuffs his chivalric flirtations in favour of that handsome young foreigner, and alerts the local Constable that espionage might quite possibly be afoot on the eve of war. Of course, none of it is true, but Olga does continue to exhibit a strong, unsettling fascination for Andrea that will undoubtedly lure him away from the Widdington's home, against the sisters' wants.

Heavily embellished from former Secretary to the Royal Institute of British Architects and prolific novelist William John Locke's (1863-1930) seven-part, surprisingly short fiction published in his 1916 compilation entitled Faraway Stories, this truly fascinating yet slightly overlong 2004 Brit pre-WWII drama marks the directoral debut of on-screen/theatre actor Charles Dance ('Alien 3' (1992), 'Last Action Hero' (1993)). Academy Award-winner Dame Judi Dench ('Die Another Day' (2002), 'The Chronicles of Riddick' (2004)) and Oscar-winner Dame Maggie Smith ('The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie' (1969), 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' (2004)) both pull in richly under played performances that immediately captivate and hold your attention here as naive aged Cornish spinster Miss Ursula Widdington and her more practical, elderly widowed sister Janet respectively, wonderfully realized opposite the fairly mysterious secondary story involving Daniel Brühl ('Good Bye Lenin!' (2003)) as their unexpectedly washed ashore, convalescing Polish guest Andrea Marovski and the vexatiously intrigued, beautiful young German artist Olga Daniloff (Natascha McElhone's; 'The Truman Show' (1998), 'Solaris' (2002)). David Warner ('Time After Time' (1979), 'Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country' (1991)) also does a fabulous job in the background as love lorn and perniciously jealous country doctor Francis Mead. Seeing the old cars and hearing maestro Joshua Bell's searing violin overdubs are an additional treat. It's a touching story. And, it's funny, with people shouting friendly condolences to poor wounded Andrea as though he's deaf, simply because he's a foreigner without a firm grasp of English spoken with a Cornish drawl. Hilarious. Sure, Dance's maturely elegant screenplay definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea. The various overlapping bouts of heartstring-tugging unrequited desire between this and that couple do make this hundred and three-minute offering feel a little too woe-is-me soapy for its own good at times, but because the over-all character acting is so refreshingly masterful and the eventual pay off is so unexpectedly original, a paying audience accustomed to other more renowned, carefully crafted page to screen adaptations can't help but be thoroughly satisfied with this sleeper come the closing credits. To the point where you'll likely want to discover any one of Locke's reported forty major works, possibly finding that the online version of this one's original text (www.djdchronology5.com/ladieslavender.htm) might be a tasty start before setting out to scour the antique book shops and reprint outlets.

Definitely rent this decidedly small, tender hearted masterpiece for an enjoyable rainy afternoon escape with a truly remarkable cast.

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Layer Cake
REVIEWED 07/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The fish head's round black farthing of an eye stared back at him (Daniel Craig) from the scarred cutting board as Gene (Colm Meaney) wrapped and tossed the small gutted body into the chest freezer's gullet, letting its door fall shut with an icy thud. "If you happen to kill someone," Gene warned, pointing his serious knife's bloody tip at him, "Never, ever, tell anyone." The room's hard flourescent lights flickered an omen. Gene never addressed him by name. Hardly anyone knew his name and he liked it that way. It was part of the rules: Work in a small team, stay clear of the London street pushers who sold his cocaine, pay everyone promptly and never be too greedy, and keep a low profile. At twenty-nine years old, the rules had served him well. Business was booming. It was the best time for him to retire. On top. Now, he was on the run because he hadn't stuck to the rules. His employer, notorious Gangster Jimmy Price (Kenneth Cranham), had sent his right hand man Gene to set up the meeting that had changed everything. The Stoke Park Private Golf Club meeting, dripping with crystal and gold behind thick oak doors, that had sent him on a wild goose chase to find Eddie's old pal, Mob boss Eddie Temple's (Michael Gambon), strung out daughter gone missing from rehab. The meeting, where Jimmy had also dropped the job of negotiating one million Dutch ecstasy pills from low life wannabe hustler Duke (Jamie Foreman) into his lap. Before Duke had suddenly disappeared. Before Temple had paid him a heart pounding visit and had set him straight about what was really going on. Before people started to turn up dead. Amsterdam had dispatched a killer named Dragan (Dragan Micanovic) to England to retrieve the pills. Duke and his hair triggered goons had stolen them. Morty (George Harris), his longtime friend and loyal enforcer, was also unhappy about it and had done a runner. Old grudges had emerged. The whole thing had gotten complicated. Deadly. He wasn't going to retire and still keep living if he didn't come up with a plan, fast. The pistol Gene had given him wasn't going to be enough, but it was a start. He hated guns. Never used one. Laying there in his comfortably stark flat's bedroom, hung over, exhausted, disoriented, with that arcane weapon's weight pressing its dark shape into the pillow beside him, a chill shattered down his spine as the thick accent on the other end of his phone introduced itself as Dragan.

Based on Brit novelist J.J. Connolly's acclaimed first book published in 2001, this incredibly engrossing and slightly Tarantino-esque 2004 Cockney Gangster yarn is oftentimes wonderfully gritty and hugely entertaining over-all. Connolly also penned the screenplay, and first-time director Matthew Vaughn ('Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels' (1998) and 'Snatch' (2000) producer) capably helms this marvellous cast of heavies and hard cases torn from contemporary London's drug underworld. Daniel Craig ('Lara Croft: Tomb Raider' (2001), 'The Jacket' (2005)) is quickly becoming one of my favourite character actors, totally immersing himself as the unnamed anti-hero here while this hundred and five-minute story has him desperately keeping one step ahead of mercurial Old School crime lords Jimmy Price (Kenneth Cranham; 'Oliver!' (1968), 'Blackball' (2003)) and Eddie Temple (Michael Gambon; 'The Cook the Thief His Wife & Her Lover' (1989), 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' (2004)), attempting to retire alive by thirty, burdened with quickly off-loading stolen Amsterdam contraband while using his network of contacts to locate Jimmy's missing daughter. This unabashedly grim and violent flick is literally packed with ultra-cool badness, fabulously realized by Craig's deftly versatile performance, as well as by his main co-stars George Harris ('Raiders of the Lost Ark' (1981), 'The Interpreter' (2005)), as personable sidekick and brutal thug Morty, and Colm Meaney's ('Under Siege' (1992), 'Intermission' (2003)) wily Price lieutenant Gene. 'Layer Cake' is also definitely a fairly demanding feature, in part due to its labyrinthian plot full of sudden twists and non-linear asides, but also because it tends to embellish upon some of these key players' background stories throughout - making most of them even more larger than life than how this extraordinary cast of talent present them. None of these guys are particularly likable, yet all of them captive your fascination and keep you wanting more. Awesome. One quibble - a minor one - is that Tammy, played by Sienna Miller ('High Speed' (2002), 'Alfie' (2004)), ends up being little more than a moderately exploited throw away love interest when that entire peripheral arc could have easily helped flesh out Craig's character's tortured ambivalence even further. You can't help but want to get inside this clever bloke's head. There's also a scene where film editor Jon Harris seems to have mixed up his prints - resulting in an unnecessarily confusing, "meanwhile, elsewhere" moment that could have been cut together with a lot more finesse - and the rather off-handed manner in which what Alfred Hitchcock used to call "maguffins" blatantly used here are neatly tied up with vague after thoughts in dialogue feel a bit lazy come the closing credits. However, any flaws that a paying audience might find are easily forgotten when compared to the immediate depth and electrifying power of what thumps out during this thoroughly entertaining piece of cinematic pulp. Cinematographer Ben Davis' camera work is sheer brilliance.

Absolutely check out this incredibly satisfying, adult oriented Brit crime spree for an intelligently vicious time featuring a top notch cast.

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Lord of War
REVIEWED 09/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

It seems as though this measurably entertaining yet surprising monotonous offering from writer/director Andrew Niccol ('Gattaca' (1997), 'S1m0ne' (2002)) is being hyped as a kind of contemporary take on 'Air America' (1990) simply in order to fill theatre seats. It's not really a comedy, although there's a lot of noir humour throughout this hundred and twenty-two minute life's examination of Ukraine-born American arms dealer Yuri Orlov (Nicolas Cage; 'Snake Eyes' (1998), 'Matchstick Men' (2003)) from his first Uzi sale to the ultimate loss of everything that should matter to him. I say that 'Lord of War' is measurably entertaining because much of Niccol's screenplay smacks of a deliberate sense of conscientious objection about Orlov's stock and trade that continually sabotages your enjoyment over-all. It's as though a paying audience is being shown this charismatically despicable character who hears the ding of a cash register with every squeeze of a client's trigger finger on one of his guns, but you're really not supposed to like him on moral grounds and you're not allowed to forget that. As though it was rewritten by the Censor Board. That underlying indignantly righteous message becomes aggravating fairly fast here. You know he's an unscrupulously bad man. Just like you knew Pacino's Tony Montana in 'Scarface' (1983) was a bad man, but at least you were allowed to be mesmerized by Montana to the point of liking him on his terms. You're not, here. It's the sign of the times, and you get to buy a ticket to suffer for it, I guess.

'Lord of War' incessantly telegraphs the eventual flood of come uppance that it has in store for Orlov and those close to him, without really bothering to give a paying audience any real reason to care about what's actually happening chronologically - beyond your enjoyment of Cage's deliciously suave and slightly quirky on-screen presence-as-performance. Luckily, he's great here, but it's the kind greatness that reminded me of Christopher Walken's powerful role in the otherwise noisily dull 'King of New York' (1990). Frankly, the script feels worn out before it gets a chance to build into something worthwhile, and never really materializes as anything fresh. It's Cage, Jared Leto ('Girl, Interrupted' (1999), 'Alexander' (2004)) as Yuri's self-destructive younger brother Vitaly, and London, England's Eamonn Walker ('Unbreakable' (2000), 'Tears of the Sun' (2003)) playing brutally gregarious Monrovia, West African warlord President Andre Baptiste Sr. who keep you motivated to sit through this feature 'til the closing credits roll, because the story doesn't have much relevance - beyond sheer contrived pretense - in comparison to the magic that these actors masterfully bring to their roles. Everyone else seems to be sleep walking through their parts, as though waiting for their next line to be thought up and hastily written down on a big card off camera. Even Ethan Hawke's efforts in portraying relentlessly dogged, by-the-book Interpol agent Jack Valentine feel unconvincing. Like an exercise in wasted talent. Additionally, some of the narrative dialogue simply doesn't make any sense, apparently attempting to impress you with bits of patch work trivia a-la Tarantino, but failing to carry those asides far enough to make them seem actually written for this movie. Disappointing, but not enough to make this one a complete turkey.

I definitely enjoyed 'Lord of War' for its sparks of interesting acting that sporadically make it into the final cut, but it's not the greatest Nicolas Cage flick I've seen and certainly isn't as much of a rollicking fun time as the ads lead you to believe it is.

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