Well, I guess this proves that Americans aren’t the only ones apt to characterize the French as obnoxious, power-hungry fops.
It serves as a reminder that even the most cunning, ruthlessly intellectual filmmakers can also create wondrous playgrounds.
There’s no investment. In anything. Welcome to the desert of the reel.
Beneath the surface of Imitation of Life lies the reality of what Sirk rightfully believed was a seriously deranged American society.
A naked man. A naked woman. A slithering snake. A burning bush.
The film’s nihilist point is clear: It’s the world against Trelkovsky and not the other way around.
Once upon a time in the far off land of Syracuse, Jim Boeheim led the Orangemen to the NCAA basketball championship.
Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle is merely a preposterous, maximized manipulation of the original film’s winning formula.
Everyone gets screwed in the end, and hoping for anything better is the refuge of the foolish and naïve.
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