I almost skipped the LA Film Festival screening of Bronson, because two things most certainly don't go together: my squeamish aversion to on-screen violence, and the good odds that Bronson -- a fictionalized biopic of Britain's "most violent prisoner," a man named Michael Peterson known better by his self-proclaimed nickname, Charlie Bronson -- would have copious amounts of bashing and bloodletting. Thankfully, I decided to give it a go... and I was rewarded with one of the most perfectly stylized, humorous, thought-provoking films of the year.

Bronson is about a monster in human clothing who happens to be a real person; he's a sociopath, a masochist, and many other things that don't sit well with society and all of its pesky rules. And he's fascinating to watch, whether he's dreaming of glory, planning a violent outburst, stripped down naked for battle, or awkwardly sipping a fruity cocktail during his short time on the outside.

Bronson, who strikes a memorable figure with his signature look -- shaved head, full, groomed moustache, wild eyes -- is played by actor Tom Hardy, who I've never seen before but who left an indelible impression. His performance will be described as a tour de force, bravura, commanding... given the film's flair for the theatrical, Hardy's Peterson/Bronson is alternately menacing, charming, strangely polite, angry, calm, and pumped full of adrenaline and ready to burst, fists-first into the nearest man's head.

According to the film, Peterson/Bronson is Britain's most violent prisoner, and has been locked up for 30+ years, most of which have been spent in solitary confinement. Director Nicolas Winding Refn (the Pusher trilogy) portrays Bronson up as a wild animal who yearns perversely for a cage, if only to bash his head against the walls over and over again.

Between flashbacks to his time in and out of prison, Bronson appears in fantasy sequences, a carnival barker narrating his own story to a captive audience in a theater; fame and attention are what he apparently seeks in life, after all, not only in his actions but in the telling of them.

Is Bronson, like so many murderous killer-types in the movies and TV, just a lost soul in search of a creative channel? A development involving Bronson's emerging artistic talents and the possibility that they could lead to a post-prison career and fame -- though that of a lowly artist, instead of a prison champion and all-around bad ass -- leads to one of many surprisingly hilarious turns, as Refn at first seems to suggest that his screwy protagonist might be explained or even redeemed, somehow, as you might expect such a film to lead. But no; Bronson can't get off so easily, and neither can we.

Refn uses many surprising and effective flourishes, including slow motion fisticuffs, brutal beatdowns set to Wagnerian opera, quiet scenes pregnant with the threat of violence, Bronson's direct address and long, uncomfortable stares into the camera... even Refn's '80s period details are not your usual bubblegum '80s - they're the '80s as fueled by Pet Shop Boys songs and the pseudo-retro sounds of death disco group Glass Candy, or the neon blue of underground fight clubs. (Amusingly, Bronson remains the same age through the '70s, '80s, and beyond.)

All of which is a long-winded way of saying that Bronson is an impressive marriage of character, style, and storytelling, with more than a few flashes of violence and downright anti-social behavior. But it's the best time this squeamish girl has had at the movies all year. Keep an eye out for it when it comes to a theater near you. (Bronson is already released in the UK and slated for a US debut this October.)

Dammit. One day away from release and Carrie Rickey, female film critic for the Philadelphia Inquirer, has gone and ruined the perfect double zeroes for Diane English's abominable The Women. What gives?

The Women, which stars a plasticized Meg Ryan, a good enough Annette Bening, and a completely wasted supporting cast (all of whom are female, following its predecessors' no-male appearances policy), is the worst movie I've seen all year. And I saw Disaster Movie.






What one might learn about modern women from watching this film is that we're all over-emotional and catty, we're either desperate for men in our lives or lesbians, we have enormous internal struggles over balancing families and careers, we constantly shriek when in the immediate vicinity of our female friends, we love shoes and clothes (even if we wear dowdy, ugly ones), we cry often and together, and (in the case of Diane English) we make terrible movie directors.

Over at the Philly Inquirer, Carrie Rickey seems to have been okay with all this. "Intermittently amusing." "Watered-down, sitcommy direction." "The piquant sides are tastier than the bland main dish." Are these the marks of enjoyment, Carrie?

Seriously, I feel bad for this film's demographic. It was allegedly slapped into release by Picturehouse only after the studio saw the huge buzz around this summer's Sex and the City (and The Women makes painfully obvious strides to mimic the characters and plotlines of that mediocre femme film). This is the rare movie that caters to the most underserved demographic in Hollywood: older women. I shudder at the thought of my own mother sitting through this wretched film. She deserves much, much better, as do all the mothers of the world.

Sigh.

Read Carrie Rickey's lone fresh review here, then leave her a comment here.

Dammit. One day away from release and Carrie Rickey, female film critic for the Philadelphia Inquirer, has gone and ruined the perfect double zeroes for Diane English's abominable The Women. What gives?

The Women, which stars a plasticized Meg Ryan, a good enough Annette Bening, and a completely wasted supporting cast (all of whom are female, following its predecessors' no-male appearances policy), is the worst movie I've seen all year. And I saw Disaster Movie.






What one might learn about modern women from watching this film is that we're all over-emotional and catty, we're either desperate for men in our lives or lesbians, we have enormous internal struggles over balancing families and careers, we constantly shriek when in the immediate vicinity of our female friends, we love shoes and clothes (even if we wear dowdy, ugly ones), we cry often and together, and (in the case of Diane English) we make terrible movie directors.

Over at the Philly Inquirer, Carrie Rickey seems to have been okay with all this. "Intermittently amusing." "Watered-down, sitcommy direction." "The piquant sides are tastier than the bland main dish." Are these the marks of enjoyment, Carrie?

Seriously, I feel bad for this film's demographic. It was allegedly slapped into release by Picturehouse only after the studio saw the huge buzz around this summer's Sex and the City (and The Women makes painfully obvious strides to mimic the characters and plotlines of that mediocre femme film). This is the rare movie that caters to the most underserved demographic in Hollywood: older women. I shudder at the thought of my own mother sitting through this wretched film. She deserves much, much better, as do all the mothers of the world.

Sigh.

Read Carrie Rickey's lone fresh review here, then leave her a comment here.

I have a confession to make. I paid money to see Disaster Movie last weekend.






In sum, watching Disaster Movie not only verified my hunch that Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer are indeed the spawn of Satan, it also reconfirmed my qualms about the upcoming election. Because even if only $6.9 million worth of people paid to see Disaster Movie on opening weekend, those people -- audiences hungry to see a Carmen Electra-Kim Kardashian cat fight, a pregnant hipster teenage mother being eaten by rabid Alvin and the Chipmunks, and Iron Man crushed by a flying cow -- might not mind electing a female VP with a pregnant teen daughter, a grandkid who might be her own child, and who has to be reminded again what the Vice President of the United States does, exactly?

But I digress. Disaster Movie = suck.

Dave and I snuck into The House Bunny immediately afterward just to wash out the taste of suckage. In comparison, it wasn't too shabby! And that, dear friends, is why I'm not (completely) sorry I suffered through Disaster Movie, although it did mean we had to watch that terrible trailer for My Best Friend's Girl twice in one night. Just terrible.

Reposting an article I wrote yesterday for a f*#%$^* awesome exclusive we scored from Sukiyaki Western Django. I've seen the film twice now and love it more than ever. It will be a polarizing film, a love it or hate it kind of thing, but if you're a fan of spaghetti western/genre/cult movies/Japanese food then I think you might also love it, as I do.


Exclusive Clip: Sukiyaki Western Django

Tarantino fans, prick up your ears! Maverick filmmaker Takashi Miike (Audition, Ichi the Killer) is back with the culture-mashing Sukiyaki Western Django (which features a cameo by QT himself), and Rotten Tomatoes is bringing you an exclusive look at the very baddest scene of the whole film. Picture this: a mysterious gunslinger in the Wild West faces off in a duel against...a samurai sword-wielding maniac! It's unlike anything you've ever seen before. Watch it after the jump!

Director Takashi Miike is arguably the Quentin Tarantino of Japan. Accordingly, his Sukiyaki Western Django, like the Japanese dish for which it's named, is a delicious mash-up of all the best elements of the Spaghetti Western genre. In the exclusive clip below, you'll watch one of the film's best scenes -- one that, even without any previous knowledge, gives you a sense of what Miike and his "Sukiyaki Western" are all about. Watch as the mysterious Gunman (Hideaki Ito) engages in a High Noon-esque duel with the warrior Yoshitsune (Yusuke Iseya), the katana-wielding leader of the White gang.








And so the storytelling lineage of the genre goes back and forth between Hollywood and Japan, each one influencing the other, making Sukiyaki Western Django a remake of a remake of remake of a remake --- set in a mining town in Nevada entirely populated by Japanese characters, who wear clothes that combine Western wear with Harajuku sensibilities, wield six-shooters with samurai armor, and speak in heavily accented English.

Sukiyaki Western Django promises to be a treat for genre fans, and is out in limited release Friday, August 29. Click here to read what critics are saying and check out more photos!

I've been on a movie-watching tear lately...eventually I'll get around to posting my thoughts on all of them, but I'll just cut to the chase and tell you what two HUGE summer movies I saw last weekend...






But Hellboy II's failures outweigh its triumphs. Those triumphs, by the way, include del Toro's infinite sense of whimsy, the Pan's Labyrinth-esque creatures that inhabit his world, and a cast that does surprisingly well with the storylines they're given, especially considering that Grandpa Bluth (Jeffrey Tambor) plays the boss, a former Brit boy-bander plays the villain (Luke Goss), and Doug Jones plays three different parts, all under prosthetics. (Jones also gets to voice Abe Sapien for the first time on-screen, having had practice in the animated series and video game. In the first Hellboy, David Hyde Pierce provided vocals.)

The problem is, Hellboy is given precious little to do. He starts out an immature slob, and he ends up, basically, the same immature slob but with a vaguely renewed sense of responsibility. He's destined to destroy mankind, but has chosen to defend it; why, then, give him a mid-story ethical crisis that never quite plays out?

Like Batman in The Dark Knight, Hellboy's story has little to do with Hellboy himself. In fact, there's really nothing unique tying him to the story and villain; it could be any fantasy-action hero saving the world here. What del Toro does nail here is in replicating the tone of the first film, providing laughs throughout and moving things along at a nice click. Those two hours (or however long it is) fly by, and though much of what's on paper won't make much sense or bear any real meaning, there's lots of eye candy to take in. All of which means that while Hellboy II is fine (hovering on the low end of Fresh for me), it's also forgettable - which means bad news for a superhero movie battling Iron Man, the Hulk, WALL-E and Batman this summer season.


So ends my double-stuffed superhero weekend. Weigh in with your thoughts...

I've been on a movie-watching tear lately...eventually I'll get around to posting my thoughts on all of them, but I'll just cut to the chase and tell you what two HUGE summer movies I saw last weekend...






But Hellboy II's failures outweigh its triumphs. Those triumphs, by the way, include del Toro's infinite sense of whimsy, the Pan's Labyrinth-esque creatures that inhabit his world, and a cast that does surprisingly well with the storylines they're given, especially considering that Grandpa Bluth (Jeffrey Tambor) plays the boss, a former Brit boy-bander plays the villain (Luke Goss), and Doug Jones plays three different parts, all under prosthetics. (Jones also gets to voice Abe Sapien for the first time on-screen, having had practice in the animated series and video game. In the first Hellboy, David Hyde Pierce provided vocals.)

The problem is, Hellboy is given precious little to do. He starts out an immature slob, and he ends up, basically, the same immature slob but with a vaguely renewed sense of responsibility. He's destined to destroy mankind, but has chosen to defend it; why, then, give him a mid-story ethical crisis that never quite plays out?

Like Batman in The Dark Knight, Hellboy's story has little to do with Hellboy himself. In fact, there's really nothing unique tying him to the story and villain; it could be any fantasy-action hero saving the world here. What del Toro does nail here is in replicating the tone of the first film, providing laughs throughout and moving things along at a nice click. Those two hours (or however long it is) fly by, and though much of what's on paper won't make much sense or bear any real meaning, there's lots of eye candy to take in. All of which means that while Hellboy II is fine (hovering on the low end of Fresh for me), it's also forgettable - which means bad news for a superhero movie battling Iron Man, the Hulk, WALL-E and Batman this summer season.


So ends my double-stuffed superhero weekend. Weigh in with your thoughts...

So I realize now, with Iron Man's Tomatometer holding steady at a shockingly good 95 percent (with 130 reviews in, unlikely to fall far), that as many critics may not enjoy next week's Speed Racer quite as much as I did. Heck, I thought Iron Man would at least fall into the 70s - but then that would reflect how good a movie it is, not how many people recommend it. So it seems 95 percent of critics so far are at least ok with it. So was I.

Now, I saw Speed Racer two days after enjoying myself at Iron Man; that movie had me going, "It's good, but not great," and dwelling over a handful of flaws -- flaws of consequence -- that occur in the third act.






So, Iron Man is well-liked by many. Speed Racer will be LOVED by many - but perhaps hated by a few (I'm looking at you, Todd McCarthy). We'll see how things pan out next week, once reviews start trickling in...Iron Man's set a high bar for the rest of the summer season, but with Speed Racer and Indy 4 on the horizon, this just might be the rare summer of quality blockbusters.

Iron Man had its first all-media screening here in LA tonight, and I think it's safe to say it doesn't fail the lofty hopes that it earned itself from those first few amazing trailers. But it ain't perfect...



"We don't want this getting into the wrong hands." Cut to: it gets into the wrong hands. - BOO



Iron Man is currently at something like 86 percent; I predict a drop...I'm guessing it'll land in the low to mid 70s - perfectly fine for a comic book movie, pretty good for a summer blockbuster, and perhaps just about right for a Jon Favreau flick of this magnitude.

**FOLLOW-UP THOUGHT: If you can stand it, don't watch any more Iron Man trailers or clips or featurettes or look at any photos. You'll enjoy the movie much more this way.

"When a girl has a heart of stone, there's only one way to melt it. Just add Ice."

-- Tagline, Cool as Ice (1991)


Friends, last weekend I had the pleasure of watching the forgotten 1991 classic Cool as Ice, at an establishment that is becoming my favorite LA theater, the New Beverly. I am here today to remind you all of the treasures that lie within this immensely watchable cinematic gem.




Oh no he didn't! The double peace out


--------------------


Chorus
Gotta hold on to this feelin’
Gotta let you body move
Gotta keep the music jumpin’
Everybody get loose
Repeat

Face the music, then I’m right behind
With a posse, a mic and a funky rhyme
It doesn’t take a lot of time for me to climb
And whem I’m going for mine, I’m like a monkey on a vine
Goin’ up the scale and I will prevail
Sharper than the point on the tip of a nail
Movin’ with the speed of a thief on the run
My mic is my gun and my posse’s the one
Ready for fun, but also for static
Anything breaks and they’re ready automatic
I’ve had it with suckers who try to get paid -
Sayin’ they’re teaching, but not makin’
The grade - they’re played.
I’m the teacher, man, you’re the student
Close your ears if you feel you’re prudent
And can’t deal with the lyrics I’m steppin’ with
But they’re the lines the people are gettin’ with
A lesson well taught, here’s some more advice
I don’t sweat it on the mic
’cause I’m cool as ice

Chorus repeat 2x’s

Roll into town with no windows down
I’m on my bike and I’m headed for a mic
Battles defuse with the news of my arrival
Instincts are primal, I’m all about survival
Proceed with caution, I’m like a blaze
That’s roared for days
All that gaze are amazed
Dazed by the force that they just witnessed
Master, is the title to fit this
Man before ya, lyrical lawyer
Suin’ all the suckers on the mic that bore ya
Slick, I’ll trick like a magician
On the microphone, I’m like a rap technician
Turn the party out in my opinion
Witty words make the world my dominion
Figure out a riddle in rhyme, you can’t stump me
I get off if a beat is funky
I’m not sleepy, dopey or grumpy
But you’ll be fallin’, just like humpty did
And that’s all she wrote
Then I disappear in a puff of smoke
I’m like a surgeon and I’m urgin’
Stay away or I’ll slice
I don’t sweat it under pressure
’cause I’m cool as ice

Chorus repeat 2x’s

Rise and shine, girls up & at ’em
See a microphone on the stage and I’m grabbin’
You act like eve and I’ll act like adam
Tangle with a snake, make sure that you pat him
Keep him calm for sure or he’ll strike back
Shake your booty girl, yeah I like that
Keep your moves silky smooth, hot and sexy
It won’t vex me, I won’t get testy.
And when you rush the stage
Bein’ all kinds of frantic, you know
I won’t panic, I’ll just get romantic
Ten and twenty, you come by the droves
Don’t be scared to take off your clothes
If you’re really short, get on your tippy toes
And remember, anything goes
’cause I’m all about fun on the run
I’ll just take each girl one by one
I’n not the type to be tied up or tied down
There’s enough of me to go around
Girlies on my tip like white on rice
I don’t sweat it on the mic
’cause I’m cool as ice





Clips of interest:


First five minutes of Cool as Ice (with the theme song opening featuring Naomi Campbell)


Johnny (Vanilla Ice) races a horse on his bike, jumps a fence while DJ scratch noises emphasize his coolness


"Words of wisdom: drop that zero and get with a hero."


The ending: Ice jumps a car, then drops some rhymes and dope dance moves!