Reviews

Oh boy is this a stupid, horribly written and horribly acted film... it plods on and on and you really want to care about this kid - but the script and acting makes it impossible for you to give a d*mn. Hugh Jackman is just awful in this. He has to play an inept idiot and it is outside of his realm of ability to do so convincingly... Laura Dern is great but she wastes her time and considerable talents here. I hope she got a big paycheck. I was actually interested in the film for about 45 minutes - but then Jackman goes off the rails in a scene so poorly written and acted that even inserting Anthony Hopkins in an expositional scene to clarify his ridiculous action here cannot save the film. This film is just filled with characters who are too stupid for their own good. The epilogue to the film is even more stupid (this film has numbed my intellect so severely that I cannot even think of a synonym for stupid)... I understand that sometimes teenagers are sad and sometimes its hard to tell how serious their sadness and depression is - but even the dumbest parent knows that if your kid attempts suicide, the kid needs more help then you are capable of giving... right? People who have kids aren't that dumb - right? So - basically this film is for stupid rich parents who are too stupid to know that if your kid needs psychiatric help - you should make sure they get it at any cost... for anyone else - it's a bad movie that wastes your time. If you need to care about a troubled young male character while having some valid and deservedly honest feelings, watch "Beautiful Boy" with Steve Carrell and Timothee Chalamet...

I can't believe that this film is a highly-regarded LGBTQIA+ film. It's dated and completely unrealistic. If you think "Staircase" with Richard Burton and Rex Harrison is stereotypical garbage - you won't believe how this surpasses it in negative cliches. The two leads here have zero chemistry, and their "love" scenes together are static and disturbing.

The main cast is obviously two straight actors who were tricked into playing gay... And its obvious they have absolutely no idea how to do this. The script has them fighting and bickering constantly (ala Staircase) and there is also no back story to explain what could have possibly made them desire to be together in the first place. It's such a unbelievable set-up and the film cannot get past it. The two leads are also so indistinct that it is almost impossible to tell them apart. Who is who? Doesn't matter, they are both jerks and hurtful and hateful people.

This film is so typical and so boring... there is a small plot twist in the 2nd act where one of the men almost has a relationship with another guy that works in the same restaurant as he does... and this look at longing and desire from a muted perspective is the only relatable thing in the film.

Again - I don't get why this is so highly regarded - its not a pleasant or interesting story in any way. It's like it was created by straight people who have only read about gay people in novels.

The cinematics are pure Wong Kar-wai -but even these seem dated and trite. Seem on WKW film, seen 'em all...

Even when it came out in 1997, it probably felt dated - but in 2023... its just seems hateful and hurtful, Do not be suckered by the high rating this film has. It is worth almost nothing.

At long last.... I finally got to see this film... it is a notorious bomb- and rightly so. But that doesn't mean it shouldn't be seen. In fact, for most of us bad film lovers, this is a special treat.

It begins with one of the worst segments in film history where the adorable Madeline Kahn plays a drunken actress who can't act, can't sing, can't dance and is the opposite of entertaining. This segment is so awful, so poor in every way (with the exception of set decoration), that I'm sure many critics watched this - and the next scene - wrote off the film as amateur garbage - and headed to their typewriter to bask in the heavenly delight of bashing a Peter Bogdanovich film at the height of his cinematic prowess.

The second scene stars some abysmal foreign person named Duilio Del Prete who also cannot act, cannot sing, cannot dance. This guy isn't the poor man's Maurice Chevalier, he's the dead man's Maurice Chevalier. He is so boring, so unattractive, so bland and so talentless that it is impossible to even begin to guess what Bogdanovich was thinking... or drinking... or snorting. It is simply inconceivable as to what the director was thinking.

When all is said and done, this film is a horrible beginning, an elongated and butt-numbing ending (that goes on forever and ever), wrapped around one of the most fun and funny and charming musical number ever to be committed to celluloid... and that's the four principals - and two second bananas (John Hillerman and Eileen Brennan) having a hell of a time riffing on the Cole Porter song "Friendship" for 20 minutes. This segment is heavenly and almost makes "At Long Last Love" worth watching... almost.

This film's plot is based on 6 characters who want to hook up in various couples - but no one wants the one that wants them... and that is almost believable - because no one in their right mind would believe anyone in the cinematic fart is desirable... they are all huge lumps of lifeless clay being modeled by a director who thinks he is so clever; he falls all over himself failing in every conceivable way. No one in this film is in their right mind. I'm guessing the cocaine was flowing... because no one has the where-with-all to say... Wait a minute! What the F are we doing here..? The disassociation from reality - on every level - is palpable in every frame.

The penultimate scene takes place in a ladies room which has the best - and the worst moments in the film. The best? Madeline Kahn and Cybil Shepherd, who have had a parting of the ways over a "so-called" man, meet in the bathroom. There are 3 mirrors on the wall behind Shepherd and as Kahn walks towards her, Bogdanovich moves the camera so that they face-off three times in a row. It is awe-inspiring and monumental. One of the greatest uses of mirrors on a set to rival Fassbinder. It reminds you of why Bogdanovich was considered one of the best filmmakers at the time.

The worst... this scene evolves into a song and dance number and Shepard is dressed in an outfit that makes her look like a linebacker in drag... At the time of this film's release, a critic supposedly quipped that Shepherd looks like someone brought a horse to a cat show in this film - and this scene validates that statement fully. I had never understood the attraction of Shepherd - until she was able to fully self-affirm her lack of ability in her 90's sitcom. Finally, she got that she was ridiculously ill-suited for stardom and brilliantly played on that acknowledgement for comedy on TV. Here, Bogdanovich is so in love with her, and she is so in love with herself, that the viewer almost has to look away in embarrassment at their inability to honestly assess just how Godawful and ill-suited Shepherd really is for this film.

Shepherd and Burt Reynolds are just horrible here. (Although Reynolds busts his ass trying to make things fun. He fails) Kahn is wasted. (Thank God Mel Brooks understood how to use her in a film - Bogdanovich only got her in "What's Up Doc"). Dummy de dum dum - or whatever the guy playing Johnny Spanish is named - is just awful too. Brennan and Mildred Natwick are given nothing great or fun to do... Bogdanovich just throws actors at the screen and gives them nothing fun or witty or important or unique to do. Watching Brennan play a sort of unwanted nymphomaniac is just unpleasant at every turn. And that is ALL she is given to do here. However, Hillerman, it must be said, steals the show at every chance he's given.

By now you know that Bogdanovich had his cast sing live on the soundtrack and this only works once - in the aforementioned "Friendship" segment. This is a throwback to how musicals were made in the 30''s - but with the technology of the 70's at his disposal, Bogdanovich just continues to make wrong choice after wrong choice here. These actors in their roles may have been able to make this film work if they were allowed to lip-sync to other, more talented, singers... The film may have not seemed like a bloated, beached whale if the director hadn't insisted on long takes that make the film feel elongated and exasperating. But nope... ego wins at every turn and no-one has the balls to tell the director what a fool he is - and how it can be seen in nearly every frame of his film.

The only thing that works in the film is the art direction and set - but this is again Bogdanovich giving a big FU to the studio. I'm sure he wanted to shoot this in black and white (which was his wont in the 70's evoking the 30's) - and when the studio said no, he just had the sets, the props, the costumes and the artwork in the film be completely in black and white yet filmed it in color. It is beautiful - and the art deco décor is wonderful eye candy. But prettiness does not always good cinema make.

Still, for the love of all that makes cinema holy, if you get a chance to see this movie - run - do not walk - run to the theater. Yes, this is a celluloid abortion - but it is also a one-in-a-lifetime experience. If you think "The Room" or Ed Wood or some other cult film is really an atrocity in 35mm... you are in for an eye-opening and butt-numbing experience. At two hours plus... this film requires a dedication to awfulness that few movie enthusiasts can muster. If you love hating this film as much as I do - you are a rare breed.

This is the true treasure trove for Warhol fanatics. Much of his early life and 60's life and work is relegated to Episode one - so that we get 5 more episodes that concentrate on his private life, his love life, and his later work - elements that are often underexposed or treated as trivial. Well Warhol's post 70's work is not trivial. It is, in fact, a vibrant, complex, emotional, spiritual and still relevant. And we really get an in-depth look at it here.

This series is jam-packed with pictures, videos, film, and art that has rarely seen the light of day. It's a real treat to see actual pictures and video of what the film is describing. Yes, the storyline is somewhat culled from Warhol's Diaries - which were redacted and edited by Pat Hackett - but this is only a device to give the video, pictures, interviews and commentary here a structure. Warhol filmed and photographed and recorded constantly - and we get the feelings that there are boxes and boxes and more boxes of his work to be discovered.

But what is here is cool. And its even more cool, because we get to hear Andy's thoughts in Andy's words - but in a nothing-less-than Warholian stroke of inspiration, the words are mouth by a AI Warhol - a computerized version of his voice that sounds just enough like him to feel real - but just computerized enough to remind us that the feeling is an illusion.

Warhol's friends and family appear here and there in the film - and most of these are just wonderful to hear and see... but then there is Bob Colacello - one of the most nasty, vile, hateful and grotesque of Warhol's wannabees. Colacello wrote a book about Warhol called "Holy Terror" - but it is Colacello who is unholy - and a true garbage person. Ignore anything he says. Feel free to fast forward through his dialogue as it is trite, ignorant, mindless drivel. He belongs on the ash heap of history and all true Warhol fans will breathe a sigh of relief when he finally disappears from the planet. There will be no mourners.

The Warhol Diaries does leave a lot to be desired - but that is because the man was just a wealth of work, thought-provoking ideas, talent and inspiration. One can only hope that this is the start of something that will evolve into numerous new docu-series about the man. Warhol's 60's work, the Happenings, the Superstars and many more related topics deserve to be explored in a series of episodes that, like these, delve deeply into their existence.

And the Warhol films - Holy Moley - the films... there are almost a footnote here - but talk about a wealth of complex and unique items that deserve to be revealed more intensely and completely. One waits with baited breath. John Waters - get to work!

Yes, The Warhol Diaries explores a lot about the artist, the myth, the lover, the legend... and it leaves so much more to be returned to. We can only hope we live to see it.

Warhol will never, can never, die. His influence - not just in art - but in our daily lives - will continue for eons. He is the second half of 20th Century incarnate.

I like art movies. I've seen many films that are considered slow and boring and yet I loved and championed. Gus Van Sant's "Gerry" comes to mind.

But this film is utter garbage - complete dreck - more than ennui... it is cinematic drudgery. Impossible to sit through, the lightest of themes, and the most frustrating lack of action that a cinema viewer could ever endure. If you are watching this film through some medium that does not allow you to fast forward, you simply will not make it through this.

Jeanne Dielman is from 1975 and by that point, Warhol had already stopped making films. He had spent the previous 10 years exploring what Ackerman explores here, with only moderate success, so she is already treading cinematic water that has been muddied by far superior artists.

I get that this is supposed to be some sort of feminist manifesto - but even in 1975 a film like this was pretentious and derivative. Anyone who has heard the phrase, "A woman's work is never done," has already been exposed to the theme here. Sure, film can be used to confirm that an aphorism. In fact, it's been done numerous times. But this film is just pointless, useless, unimportant and poorly made. It has nothing new to offer, even in 1975.

I presume the film got some attention because in 1975 sex was still somewhat taboo and we get to see the lead actress naked - and one of the most distasteful sex scenes ever filmed - second only to John Waters' "Pink Flamingos." Now, 45 years later, these prurient interest an null and void.

Dielman is a middle aged housewife who is a sex worker but even in 1975 its hard to believe that this anal-retentive woman could stand to be touched by any man. She's attractive enough but her OCD (as we call it now) is so severe that she could not stand the messiness and spontaneity of even the most boring sex. This also makes the film ridiculous and impossible to endure.

Dielman has a son who is probably supposed to be 16 or 17 - but looks 30. He is a carbon copy of his mom. At one point she tells a neighbor that her son "isn't fussy." ISN'T FUSSY? He's almost non-existent.

The end of this film - if you can make it that long - is absurd and pointless. Again, this is supposed to be some feminists' revenge fantasy - but it falls completely false and is utterly unbelievable. There is no logical conclusion to the film - not that it deserves one. It just ends.

This is the kind of film that makes me hate film. The fact that this film is considered Ackerman's masterpiece is reason enough never to watch a film made by her ever again.

There are times when movies become more than just stories... more than just characters... more than just images with sound... There are times when movies become these collections of human moments that elevate our existence and takes us into the realm of the ethereal...

Palmer is such a movie.

It's not perfect. Life isn't perfect. Nothing is perfect. But I am giving this movie 10 out of 10 because its the most emotion I have felt watching a movie (without feeling manipulated) for quite a while. The thing you think will be the big crux of the movie - turns out to be just a few points along the arc of the film. Sure its all a bit unrealistic but who cares? We want to believe in it. We want it to do what it does. We need it to do what it does. Life can be real. We need movies to take us to the precipice of the unreal - and then make us believe anyway. That's what good movies do.

Justin Timberlake is great even though it takes us half the film to forget he's Timberlake. Doesn't matter. Eventually we forget. The kid... the kid... just perfection - and written perfectly too. It's impossible not to love him and care about him. We get it. He is the justification for everything Palmer, the man - and the movie, is and becomes. And the you actor playing the role, Ryder Allen, justifies the film in every frame.

I looked up "ethereal" online - and the definition came back "extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world." That sums up Palmer.

I don't know how anyone in the Japanese army in World War II got any sleep as everyone yells at the top of their lungs constantly - whether they are opening a door or closing a door or doing anything in between as shown in this film. It is grating.

The second part of this boring, repetitive, pointless and flat trilogy continues with Tatsuya Nakadai proving he truly cannot act but he sure can open his eyes wider and for longer than any other actor in films, past or present... Perhaps it is a cultural barrier. Perhaps it is just that time has not been kind to this film as it just repeats the theme "war is hell, men are monsters" over and over and over again until its final scene where our hero finally considers himself a monster rather than a man as well.

Part 1 was long and boring and repetitive enough with its version of this message (prison is hell) - but Part 2 elevates the "life is hell" theme to the level of absurdist ennui... set in a latrine.

This 9 1/2 hour epic has themes and stories that have been told better, more succinctly and more emotionally in the years before and since these films. It all rather trite. Plus the special effects and sound effects in this film are amateurish. I realize Japanese filmmaking may have been far behind American filmmaking in 1959 - just and I'll admit that pacifistic films in America in 1959 left a lot to be desired... (we've since produced plenty of psychologically based films that far surpass this one - just as Japan has surpassed American films in special effects and sound effects.) but this trilogy is so boring and thematically outdated that it is almost vapid - and certainly unwatchable.

I will only be watching Part 3 simply to be able to say that I've seen all 3 pieces of this film. I will wear my endurance like a badge of honor to signify to other cinemaphiles that I am as valiant as they in my ability to wallow through the doldrums and the one-dimensional cinematic wasteland that is The Human Condition.

This is what happens when everything goes wrong - Not in the plot - but in the execution of a movie... There are movies that are horrible - and there are movies that are great... Then there are movies with horrible scripts that turn out to be masterpieces because of the cast and director... Casablanca comes to mine... But this is the opposite - a movie with what seems like a great script which misfires at every opportunity due to the wrong director, the wrong producer, and the wrong ideas throughout. The tone if this movie is a hodge-podge of comedy (when it should be drama) and drama that just doesn't work.... Melissa McCarthy might have the chops to pull of this character, but something (the director, the cinematographer, the editor, the special effects people, the make-up people, the costume people) work against her at every step. Likewise Chris O'Dowd - who nails his one good scene after being left in the lurch for 85% of the film... He gets busted in the chops by this film. Kevin Kline is just awful and a complete waste here. He is called upon to do his regular "good dumb guy schtick - and so he just does his regular "good dumb guy" schtick. And Timothy Olyphant is horrendously miscast... His appearance is cringe-worthy. Not because Olyphant isn't a great actor - but because someone put him in this film and told him to play his character from Santa Clarita Diet... which is so tone-deaf that only an imbecile could not see this was problematic. And then they put the cute kid from Santa Clarita Diet, Skyler Gisondo beside Olyphant in the film (so all you can think about when you see them is Santa Clarita Diet). And then they give Gisondo nothing - absolutely nothing - to do. It's like someone just said - he deserves a check - lets give him a part but not make him have to do any work on screen. This film is frustrating beyond the realm of frustration because it could be so beautifully dark and poignant - and instead - it just become crap on an fake owl's head. Look up Disappointing on Netflix - and you will be directed to The Starling.

If you are not completely charmed by Gilda Radner, then there is something wrong with you... she's so adorable... so cute and funny and genuine. This films shows her at her peak. Sure, there are tons and tons of episodes of SNL where you can see her do what she did best... but this is really the cream of the crop. She was beautiful. She was hilarious and she was real. The opening song of this piece proves exactly what was so adorable about her. The "Let's Talk Dirty to the Animals" song could be so silly and gross and crude in the hands of someone without Gilda's charm and charisma... but she makes it a delight.

I don't think I know a single person who would like this film or even be able to make it all the way through it - but for me - its was just astounding... unlike anything else I've ever seen - there's so much here, I could go on for days and days about this movie... but no one I know will feel the same way I do about it... Astounding - wildly original - beautiful in a completely unique way - a perfect continuation of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg and Dancer in the Dark... yet touches of Philip Glass and Yorgos Lanthimos and Lynch and then there's Sparks and Adam Driver... and performance art and Russel Brand and.... Trainspotting and Pinocchio and and modern opera and A Star is Born and A Touch of Evil/Absolute Beginners/The Player/Birdman and Simon Helberg and Bo Burnham and pop culture and celebrity and TMZ and on and on... and that first song - WOW! Annette is stunning and I am stunned.. hypnotized... amazed. So may we start it again!

This is a very weird, disquieting, perplexing film and its definitely is not for everyone. It has two of the most unique young American actors in the cast (Eisenberg and Druid) and both of them bring their trademark queasiness and angst to their roles. As the story unfold, we feel like there is something unspoken underlying everything that happens. We keep waiting for the titular bomb to drop and when it does, we're not really allowed to see it. We're lead to believe that the secret here is that the mother (Huppert) committed suicide but there is no real evidence of that. There's just this vague notion that maybe that is what happened.

But I think there is a hidden meaning in the end, the dream Conrad has. There is a real strange relationship between the mother and her elder son. She visits him at college and ends up sleeping in his bed. Then Conrad has a dream where the mother brings a baby (an old man) to meet the family and it is said that the baby is Jonah's, her son's, child. I think the real secret is that Conrad is Jonah's son. There age difference implies that it is possible - and every subtle hint in this film leads to that conclusion...

Perhaps the article in the paper suggests that her death is a suicide but the men in this family knows why she commits suicide - why she leaves home when she can - and is completely ill at ease when she is home...

If this is truly what is being suggested - it is the most subtle suggestion in all of cinematic history... and it is done perfectly. But if this is wrong... then the movie is rather lame and less distressful. If Conrad isn't Jonah's son, then this is just a radically inferior version of The Ice Storm.