Reviews

Ken Jacobs is an experimental filmmaker and theory teacher who is still making movies to this day. He was an art teacher to the monumentally influential Art Spiegelman and is sometimes credited for coining the term "paracinema" – though that changes depending on your source. Whether he invented the term or not, paracinema seems to be the wheelhouse in which Jacobs lives. It is a word that literally stands for any type of film that is outside the conventional genres in filmmaking. In Jacobs' personal favorite genre, experimental avant-garde, paracinema also means any film made without the standard equipment of the film medium. If this essay-like opening paragraph is boring you, I guarantee the subject matter of Ken Jacobs' 1963 Blonde Cobra will lighten the mood.

I almost feel strange referring to Blonde Cobra as an actual movie as opposed to a home video of two perverts talking about penises. See, I told you it would pick-up. It is set in a cramped apartment and shot with a single camera in grainy and unpleasant looking black and white. It "stars" a fellow experimental filmmaker, Jack Smith (Flaming Creatures), as himself in silly costumes while holding icky looking props. The motives for the movie are almost impossible to figure out. If I had to guess, I would say that these are two bored, eccentric homosexual filmmakers in the early 60s who are doing nothing more than looking for a way to torment the suits. There does not seem to be a point to anything in the film, rather Jacobs fills the half an hour runtime with controversial and offensive voiceovers behind strange images or completely blank screens.

There is no secular narrative presented in the film. Instead, Jacobs split his work into three short vignettes featuring Smith as different characters usually in drag or some other goofy costume. The first short in the film has Smith dressed in the manner of a fortuneteller and displays the behavior of someone with an intense oral fixation. This dialogue-less action includes Smith licking raw poultry and features a voice-over that describes cases of sexual molestation to children and necrophilia. The best I can do is say I THINK that is what they're talking about, but it is almost impossible to understand what they are saying. Most of these stories, including one particular moment in which Smith describes a female's use of religious statues for masturbation, are said over a blank, black screen. You'd think that a visual break from the action would be kinda nice, but the narration might even be more graphic. It is certainly more offensive.

The next "scene" has Smith and another man dressed as 1920s-esque gangsters as they dance to what sounds like (but don't quote me on it) the Ginger Rodgers and Fred Astaire version of "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off". I would think that this scene holds the key to Blonde Cobra even being on this list of films. Pop music in film was a brand new concept in the 1960s. And though many credit The Graduate for the use of a pop music soundtrack, Jacobs and Smith were using recordings in their films as early as 1957. Jacobs'Blonde Cobra, Smith's Flaming Creatures and, of course, Anger's Scorpio Rising were all released between 1963-64 and unknowingly serve as the first examples of unlicensed music in film.

And then, after all of that excitement, there is another vignette. This time we have Smith dressed as an explorer of some kind. He and another man rub themselves on all sorts of different apartment props. Smith can be heard saying that sex is "a pain in the ass". Other than that, nothing really happens.

Maybe the most famous line in the film is said in the first act. Mid-sentence, Smith stops and turns to the camera. With a completely serious demeanor you can hear him say – "I don't know if this makes sense to you". I can assure you that the film does not make any sense at all. Not in the way that a surrealist like Buñuel doesn't make sense, but more in the way that a sleep deprived, gay crack-addict probably doesn't make sense. I eventually came to realize that looking for a motive or a point in Blonde Cobra is an exercise in futility. The film is pointless.

It would be wrong to say that Blonde Cobra has absolutely no cultural importance. Jacobs and Smith are both very famous in the gay, New York underground film scene. Somebody somewhere likes this stuff. And like Tarantino makes movies for a niche of people – these men made their films for a much smaller sample of the same thing. If you are not part of the particular audience – Blonde Cobra will mean nothing to you. Honestly, it's a piece of crap.

The Red and the White is a movie that could have easily been named Gunshot. It purposely runs without any sort of central character, and almost everyone the audience meets is, at some point, shot to death. With very little important dialogue, it seems like Jancsó was more interested in letting guns do the talking. Which, considering the magnitude of his project, was a bold move.

Miklós Jancsó is a Hungarian filmmaker who was granted funding from the Soviet Union to make a tribute to the 1917 Russian Revolution. Rather than make a film that praised the Bolsheviks, Jancsó aimed his efforts toward a project that played no favorites. He wanted the audience to know that war is wrong, arbitrary and absurd.

The Red and the White takes place two years after the October Revolution, 1919, in the hills overlooking Volga. The "Red" Army is made up of Hungarians who support the communist movement. The "Whites" represent the Tsarist that is fighting to remain in power over Russia. There are no main characters in the film; Jancsó chose to show both sides represented through nameless men and women for the purpose of keeping the audience at the distance. It is a film without heroes, kind of like war.

As you might have imagined, a Russian-produced, anti-heroic film about the atrocities of war was not what the Soviet's had in mind. The film was quickly reedited before its release in the Motherland, and then eventually banned for several years. Outside of the Union, The Red and the White went on to become Jancsó's most praised and popular film.

The subject matter is grittier than your average war film from the time period. It features scenes of attempted rape, killing of innocent people, humiliation and death in abundance. In one scene, Hungarian men are forced, shoulder to shoulder, onto the ground and shot, one-by-one, in the head. Each time, the next person in line is forced to witness a comrade die. And that is just one example. Death is the theme. And for what? The audience never really knows….

One heavy criticism of The Red and the White is that it can be very difficult to follow at times. Characters are constantly being introduced, killed and replaced at an extremely rapid pace. It is impossible to become attached to anyone in the film because no person is alive long enough to develop an on-screen personality. For me, this is a perfect compliment to the feeling of despair that Jancsó was trying to achieve. I am of the anti-war sort. One interesting thing about war film is that, no matter how hard they try, a filmmaker will almost always make war look like fun. I highly doubt it is fun. The Red and the White looks awful, so it does its job. I do not need a hero, I need reality.

Aside from the daring concept, the film is also shot in a visually interesting style. The camera lenses get a hefty workout of quick-zooms in and out of focus. Some character's deaths are sharply detached from the audience after an unexpected fade or blur. The black and white is crisp and clean (though I would like to see a Criterion release) with well placed shading and emotionally appropriate shadows over hauntingly violent moments. The looming insanity of war is palpable from the overcastting darkness of the open hills.

If I have to admit a flaw in The Red and the White I would say that there is not enough (any) blood. I am not sure if this was an artistic choice, a budget restriction or if it had something to do with the Soviet's overhead – but with the amount of people being shot in the film, you'd think there'd be some blood.

Maybe I am a little too American in my taste for cinematic violence, but if you want to push the absurdity of wartime there is no better strategy than showing an audience exactly what happens during wartime. When a person is shot, their bones break, their muscles tear and blood spills out of the wound. There is a visible entry and exist wound. But not in The Red and the White. Rather, people merely grab their stomach in pain and fall to the ground. They kinda look like they have gas… In terms of a "war film", The Red and the White is a unique look through the eyes of soldiers. It is a strong anti-war statement that hinds under the guise of a Soviet bandwagon film. Though it was dry at times, I still found it to be visually striking and emotionally compelling. It is black and white. It is in Russian/Hungarian. I recommend you watch it anyway.

Last Thursday night I was sitting in a tiny Amtrak station in Bloomington, Illinois waiting for my train to take me to my beautiful girlfriend in Chicago. As I sitting there, I was joined by a group of stereotypical sorority girls from Illinois State University. For almost an hour I was subjected to their countless stories about meaningless sex, Lady Gaga and the "pounding of shots" that they were so excited to soon be doing in the windy city. By the time we boarded the train, I had realized that I was alone in the car with these five exhausting females. I scurried to the far back to make sure that I could secure a seat by myself and far away from these strangers.

My efforts were in vain because one of them spotted my fraternity letters and found it necessary to try and sit next to me. "You're a frat boy, you may enjoy some of my stories". I could not think of any other way to make her leave me alone, so I whipped out my laptop and started watching my next film from the 1077. "What 'cha watchin'" she asked. I answered - "a black and white Japanese anti-war movie made in 1956". After hearing this, it did not take her long to jump out of her seat and rejoin her group of woo-girls. The Burmese Harp saved the day.

Little did I know that this movie would not only save me from two hours of annoyance, but it would also be an extremely rewarding viewing experience. Though I was watching it on my laptop, I was still in awe of the Criterion DVD quality and the flawlessness of the hushed black and white. The cinematography is simple and the landscaping of Burma is vast and magnificent looking. It was easy to see that the filmmaker was not interesting in a mass amount of dialogue. It was the striking subtlety in the visual style that properly denoted the overall theme of the movie.

The Burmese Harp is about a Japanese soldier stationed in Burma during the days immediately following the end of World War II. He has developed a love for playing the harp and uses it to signal danger to his troop. His playing is also used as a way to raise moral in the lonely mountains of Burma. Music, whether instrumental or vocal, plays a major role in the film. In fact, it seemed like the majority of the communication was presented through song. The sound of the harp is soothing and easy on the ears. It is a beautiful instrument that compliments the smooth visuals.

The story is also vividly entertaining in is simplicity. After retreating to the British, the soldier - Mizushima - is sent to try and convince another Japanese troop to surrender. He fails in doing this and the entire troop is eventually killed by British forces. This leads to Mizushima, and his harp, being separated from his fellow soldiers and he is now left to roam the countryside of Burma. As we walks, he meets a spiritual leader and realizes the devastatingly high amount of Japanese casualties caused by the violence of World War II. He sees the bodies of thousands of soldiers with his own eyes. He is traumatized and dedicates his life to giving them a proper burial.

The Burmese Harp is the first film by Kon Ichikawa to be seen outside of Japan. It is also one of the first Japanese movies to receive critical acclaim in the United States. What really makes it stand out is that it was the first example of an anti-World War II statement being made by the Japanese through cinema. We forget that everybody is hurt by war, and that the lines are not always as clear as good versus evil. The men in the Japanese army had families, kids and dreams of their own. They just wanted to return home - though they would find that home hardly existed as they knew it before the war.

Yes, I may be in debt to The Burmese Harp for saving me from the incoherent ramblings of a loud and proud party animal, but I also legitimately enjoyed it on almost every level. This is a great movie and could serve as an outstanding introduction into Japanese, Asian or world cinema. I am a big fan. I immediately bought the Criterion DVD. You should borrow it sometime...

At this point in my life I have seen worse and stranger films than Andy Warhol's Vinyl, but I cannot say that improved my viewing experience. The film is the pop-artist's interpretation of Anthony Burgess' "A Clockwork Orange" and was made six years before the much more famous Kubrick version. Why is Vinyl not as memorable as the widely known and accepted 70's adaptation? The answer to that question is easy - Warhol's version sucks.

Vinyl does follow the basic story of "A Clockwork Orange". Victor is a troubled youth who is taken in and made subject to a terrible experiment that makes him submissive to violence. If left at this, the movie would have been kind of neat, but poor production quality and significant artistic liberties make this an unusual and uncomfortable experience.

In this film, the camera hardly moves. All of the characters exist is the same small space and world. Warhol's camera is the dictator over what is important, and it never allows the viewer to get a full sense of what is going on. This creates a cramped and almost unwatchable series of events that are sort of explained, yet hardly audible.

The acting is almost laughably bad. The cast is made up of Andy Warhol's Factory regulars, and I would be surprised if any of them knew how to properly play a character. Some names that may shout out to art snobs are Gerard Malanga (in the lead role) and Ondine (as Scum Baby). Watching these "famous" socialite figures bumble through their lines is sometimes hilarious. You can hear voices off screen feeding lines to the actors. If they forget what they are saying they will just stop and move on to the next part. It is unbelievable that Vinyl got as far as it did in production.

But that ties in to what makes Vinyl sort of interesting. This is not a film that was rehearsed ahead of time. The actors did not know their lines or cues or anything before Warhol put the camera on them and shouted action. Heck, it does not even have an opening or ending sequence of credits. All we open and close to is Warhol yelling the names of the cast and crew from off camera.

There is also a very strange homosexual sadist scene around the end of the picture. I cannot confirm or deny whether or not the source material contained any sexual undertones, but Warhol must have seen them in there somewhere. I am not sure why they decided that leather masks and wax burning was the way to go, but I remember the torture scene in the novel to be a bit less...weird.

One positive note about Vinyl is that the audience gets to see the beautiful Edie Sedgwick throughout the entirety of the action. She serves as almost a part of the set. She does not speak, but she smokes and dances and forces the audience to pay attention to her. It is no doubt that Warhol wanted her to be a star. She has a mesmerizing quality about her. Knowing the story of her tragic life and death, it was almost sad to see her first on-screen appearance. She did not look as though she knew what she was getting into with the Factory. Even if she did, she was out of place.

Vinyl is not the least entertaining movie that I have ever seen, but I cannot understand why it has been deemed significant. Yes, an Andy Warhol telling of "A Clockwork Orange" might seem interesting to the everyday moviegoer - but the horrible acting, sound quality and direction makes the whole thing not worth the time.

If this film had been directed by anybody else, I doubt the public would have ever even heard of it. I would have been okay with that. Pop-art and the fifteen seconds of fame may be the good things that Andy Warhol brought to the world, but Vinyl is a bad movie. I would rather look at the soup can for 70 minutes....

Michael Snow's masterpiece, or something like that, is a "structural picture" from 1967 called Wavelength. Though the film was incredibly painful to my ears, it for some reason has stuck with me. After a long thinking period, I have decided that I actually really liked it.

At a little under 45 minutes long, Wavelength is not an easy film to get through. It features a non-moving camera set in a large room, and nothing else. The camera captured the action that goes on in the room to create what Snow calls "a summation of my nervous system, religious inklings and aesthetic ideas." On the surface it is merely a stiff frame of three walls, a floor and a ceiling with the occasional, but brief, interaction of a human variety. But once you look closer you will realize that your eyes have deceived you.

Through the entire film, Snow has his camera zooming in at an extremely slow speed. After realizing this, your eyes will be fixated on the screen in a desperate attempt to convince yourself that you are not insane. I found the entire concept to be so emotionally exhausting and frustrating that once the film was over I could do nothing but watch it again. It was a pleasantly unpleasing experience that did nothing but expand my conception of conventional filmmaking.

I have to admit that the soundtrack behind the film was a bit confusing for me. It was nonexistent for most of the film, but all of a sudden…WHAM! Imagine the most ear-piercing scream or squeal that you have ever heard. Now combine them to make the last half an hour of Wavelength. I honestly thought that I was going to disturb my neighbor's dog with the high pitched whistles and unexplainable wails that accompanied the actionless action. If you can handle the sounds you will be rewarded by the film.

With Wavelength, Snow created the most aesthetically praised work in all of avant-garde. His technique ultimately forced me into a starring contest with the screen. It was me versus the structure of a single room. It was me versus the nonexistent, but ever present, movement of the camera's lenses. I waited arrogantly for the film to flinch. It never did. And then it ended.

How much do you know about foreign culture? One interesting thing about world cinema is that it forces a milky white, middle-class American (like myself) to venture into the cultures of many different people. As much as I would like to say that I always enjoy that aspect of film, some films have the ability to turn even the most liberal film critic into a blatant xenophobe. For me, one of those films is The Color of Pomegranates. A Russian film directed by Sergei Parajanov, this has to be one of the least pleasant and most pretentious experiences of my life. I will say, in my introductory paragraph, that I would not recommend this snooze-fest to my worst enemy.

The Color of Pomegranates is a film that only arguably tells a story. I have read that it supposedly created a cinematic language through striking visuals and material symbolism. And though I am sure that this really happened, I cannot say that I noticed any of it. The concept that Parajanov based his film around was to tell the life story of the Armenian poet, Sayat Nova (King of Song), using non-literal and poetic imagery that more closely represents his art over his actual life. This means that the entire film is relatively without dialogue and features some excruciatingly pretentious still shots. In fact, the camera hardly moves throughout the entire production. It is just a jumble of long shots that lack any solid continuity.

One thing that I forced myself to remember is that I have seen this type of film before. I was automatically brought back to the surrealist movement of the late 20's and 30's with Louis Buñuel and Salvador Dali, but I think that this association would offend Sergei Parajanov. He was not making a surreal film; rather he was trying his best to tell a story through symbols and gestures. The fact that there is supposedly a story hidden in there keeps The Color of Pomegranates from being a surrealist picture.

So then what is this film really? There have been several filmmakers who try and tell an artist's story through works rather than facts, and I have never been much of a fan. Though the comparison is thin, one film that succeeds with the endeavor is Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus (2006), which narrates the life of the famous photographer using her influences as a visual. But still, Fur is a film that stays within the boundaries of convention. Parajanov is not interested in conventional anything.

I suppose what you are reading is an American boy's yearning for a more Hollywood-like structure in his entertainment, and I will admit that it embarrasses me to write that. But The Color of Pomegranates is simply a painfully boring film. I may be uncultured, but I was also horribly uninterested in this dribble. We are treated to the visual of men slaughtering goats, one exposed female breast, a man riding a horse, people shooting guns and (of course) the leaking of pomegranates; which represents blood – the essence of life. Deep right? This is the part where my fellow cinophiles tell me that I do not "understand" what Parajanov is trying to tell me with The Color of Pomegranates. I assure you that the obvious religious imagery, worked in coming-of-age angst and the allusion to VERY old poetry was not lost on me. I guess I just do not have an invested interest in the culture. I am certainly not interested enough for something like this movie.

At the end of the day, I want to be entertained by a film. The Color of Pomegranates can boast some beautiful scenery, but it lacks even the most basic values that interest a consumer. I have a hard time believing that there are people in the world who could legitimately enjoy something like this, but there has always been a market for the pretentious. The symbolism is ineffective and the story is lost in the fray of nonsense. I hated every minute of this film. It was an awful, boring and eye-opening experience. I gotta get out of the house more…..

Though every film on this list is supposed to have some kind of importance in the history of movie making, I have struggled to find merit in a number of the pictures I have watched. Some films, like Dog Star Man, were made from interesting ideas. While others, like Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures, do not seem to have any redeeming qualities at all. Flaming Creatures is a film like none that I have ever seen. It is perverted, trashy and important only because it helped define cinematic vulgarity.

Flaming Creatures was directed and written by the provocative filmmaker, Jack Smith. Here is a man that had no interest in entertaining the masses. I am not sure that his films could even entertain himself. He was a major proponent in simple aesthetics. He was the godfather of the underground film world, and he is credited with creating the drag-queen culture as we now know it. Smith was also a major influence on the films of Andy Warhol and the movies of John Waters. All of his films, with Flaming Creatures being the most incendiary, were shot under incredibly small budgets. But Smith was never worried about how much money it cost to make a movie.

According to underground legend, Smith filmed Flaming Creatures on stock film that he had actually shoplifted. It has also been said that he paid his actors in either gay sex or drugs. True or not, this still remains one of the most bizarre films I have ever seen. It is a parade of camp-queens, transvestites, hermaphrodites and prostitutes mixed in with the occasional flaccid penis or saggy breast. There is no noticeable story being told, but Smith had said that his work was showing you "a comedy set in a haunted music studio." I must have missed this, because all I saw was the showing of some very questionable acts amongst one of the cheapest looking sets I have ever seen.

If I have to give this film any credit, I will say that the images were exhaustively challenging for my poor Midwestern eyes. I was made uncomfortable almost immediately, and I would go as far as to say I was disgusted at times. Flaming Creatures is one of the most emotionally disturbing works in film that I have seen. But it does not frighten you. It uses music and absurd imagery to make you uncomfortable. You would have to be a pretty weird person to not be challenged by Jack Smith.

In one of the only secular moments of Flaming Creatures, we see an actress getting raped by way of cunnilingus. We are treated to the intense visual of a woman being held down and violated by more than one male figure. Of course, these men are naked and performing all sorts of "hand acts" on each others limp penises. This type of perverted sexuality becomes normality throughout the 45 minute running time. It is not an easy film to sit through.

Obviously, any film that features this type of rough imagery comes with loads of controversy. In fact, Flaming Creatures was seized by New York police directly following its debut screening. Along with Jack Smith, the film became a target of the infamous idiot, Strom Thurmond, during his crusade to end all pornography. Do not get confused – this is not a pornographic film. It is a classic work in performance art. And though we would all love to pretend that this genre does not exist…we still know that it does. And in terms of successful endeavors in the genre – Flaming Creatures isn't really all THAT bad. I will never watch it again, but some esteemed opinions, like Frederico Fellini, hail this picture as a masterpiece in trash cinema.

Yes, Jack Smith may be an under credited influence on the Waters' and Warhol's of the world, but this does not make his films entertaining in any conventional sort of the word. This is the type of film that a pedophile would enjoy. And though I defend Smith's right to make trash, I also understand why the backlash forced him to withdraw from making films. Smith would go on to become a major pioneer in surrealist theatre. He worked in this field until his death of AIDS related complications in 1989. He was 56 years old.

At what point can you tell that you are no longer awake? What has to happen before you are finally aware that what you are seeing is a dream, or maybe a nightmare? That question is asked, and the idea used, by the Danish filmmaker Carl Theodor Dreyer in one of his often considered weakest works. Vampyr is a horror film on paper, but it does not frighten anybody. Though this may sound like a failure, it is actually what makes the viewing experience so memorable.

With Vampyr, Dreyer was quoted as saying that he wanted to create a "daydream on film". Shot between 1930 and 1931, Dreyer's first desire was to keep the film out of the currently exploding "talkie" era. Knowing that the studio would not accept this as an option, Dreyer countered by writing only a very minimal amount of dialogue. The majority of the characters in the film are silent. They let their facial expressions and body language tell the story. This is an interesting move by the great director because he is also known for using amateur actors in his films. Rather than covering up bad acting with creative dialogue, Dreyer wrapped everyone up in his desired universe. The acting did not matter.

Along with the acting, it was rather obvious that the straightforward story was not supposed to be the viewer's focus. Vampyr tells the story of a young occultist who is staying at an inn that is under the curse of a vampire. With strange sounds, disappearances and illnesses coming from seemingly nowhere, this is not an inn that I would recommend to anyone. In the hours of the night, an elderly man rushes into the room of the occultist. He gives him a book that explores the vampire curse. With everything explained, the story plays out in a very predictable fashion.

If the acting is bad and the story is simple, what is it that makes Vampyr an appealing film? Simply put, this is an aesthetically interesting film to the same degree of some of the surrealist classics. The film was shot completely on location to add to the maze-like sense of the film. Also, Dreyer had his cameraman shoot the film through a piece of gauze held three feet away from the camera. This manufactured a cloudy and dreamlike thickness for the screen that a viewer almost has to look through to see the action. This is a style that was most often seen by Louis Buñuel in his most cherished classics, but it can be argued that with Vampyr and earlier with The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) Dreyer made the dream theatre style something of his own.

I would not say that Vampyr is a great film. In fact, I am not even sure that it is a very good film. It does succeed on an aesthetic level, and it is somewhat entertaining for an early horror. I hate to sound so snobbish, but I much prefer Dreyer's work on The Passion of Joan of Arc. Vampyr is a neat film, but nothing more.

Are you tired of the same movie over and over? The Wrestler could be the film that you are looking for. I know what you are thinking- "I don't really like pro wrestling". Trust me, that doesn't matter. The Wrestler is a brilliantly acted and directed human tragedy that will violate your senses with amazing visuals and heartbreaking dialog. Mickey Rourke gives the finest performance I have seen in two years, much better then the future Best Actor winner Sean Penn in Milk, and Marisa Tomei again surprises the masses with an excellent and compelling performance. There has never been a film that has jumped this deeply into my heart and emotions. The artwork is mediocre, but the everything else is fantastic. If you enjoy great acting- watch The Wrestler. If you enjoy great direction and film making- watch The Wrestler. If you enjoy hard hitting, tear jerking, action involved, dialog driven works of art- watch The Wrestler. One of the finest works I have ever seen.

Simply a fantastic film! I have developed a hatred for director Oliver Stone, largely due to rubbish like Natural Born Killers, but I am glad I gave him a second chance. Platoon is a gritty look into the real Vietnam War. Charlie Sheen and Willem Dafoe give their career performances in this film. Sheen portrays a transformation from innocent to bloodthirsty with brilliant execution. The action is very intense, the acting is spot on perfect and the story is compelling and original. In my opinion, Platoon is the 2nd greatest war film in history behind only Apocalypse Now. This Best Picture winner was not only the best picture of that respective year, but the overall best film of the 1980's.

Simply fantastic! The visual art in the film makes it worth the rent. Amazing location shots that are set amongst beautiful and historic backdrops compliment Martin McDonagh's perfect direction. The acting in the film ranges from average to great, but Colin Farrell gives the performance of his career(which is obviously not a grueling task). The script was very inclusive and gave viewers aspects of dark comedy as well as straight comedy. All of this was mixed into a pot of social awareness, love story and satire. The beautifully brutal action sequences were perfectly distributed between the dry and scoreless dialogue. I believe In Bruges is one of the finest of 2008, I absolutely loved this film.

I was looking forward to this film for what seemed like a lifetime- and it only slightly disappointed me. The editing from scene to scene was very choppy and fast. The character development was extremely weak. The film seemed to disregard new characters and focus only on the old show standards. Chris Carter did write a fantastic screenplay in my opinion. The only problem is he wrote something that could have been a three part episode. Duchovny was brilliant as usual and Anderson was stunning and sophisticated. Amanda Peet was the only thing wrong with the cast. Her character was utterly boring and never seeped into the plot. She was impossible to sympathize with (watch Igby Goes Down to see Peet at her best). Mitch Pileggi added a little bit of familiar spunk....so overall the acting was on par with the television series. The film has a good enough story to entertain non-fans, and there are enough references to keep the fans entertained. It was not the triumphant return of the X-Files that I wanted to see, but it was a great thriller that kept me guessing. Give this one a shot......

Well that was pretentious! Nick and Norahs Infinite Playlist was one of the most self-obsessed films I have ever seen. We get it- YOU ARE INDIE!! Stop insulting the fans of independent comedies with this bloated self-insistent nonsense. The acting was good, but we expected tat to happen. It was the story that grinds my gears. This may go down as the film that ruins independent comedies for those of us that like decent film-making. The cast and crew need to realize that not every other teen comedy has to be Juno. In fact, that will probably never happen again. Whatever- It is good enough to see, but annoying enough to hate. Think Garden State X 100.

Lost in Translation could easily be compared to a painting. The cinematography is the background with two beautiful centerpieces (Murray and Johansson). The canvas is the bustling Tokyo nightlife. Like any work of fine art, this film is very delicate and full of emotion. The breathtaking location shots are the perfect compliment to the stars performances. Murray is absolutely brilliant in his adaptation of the Sofia Coppola character, Bob Harris. I believe he was snubbed at the 2003 Academy Awards. Coppola has successfully stepped out from the shadow of her father in an incredible way. Lost in Translation is a mixture of great performances, outstanding cinematography and substance; all of which are brought to life by the appropriate soundtrack. The best film of 2003 can only be described as one thing, and that is a work of art.

by Jake Ray

Imagine you are walking through a deserted desert and you happen to come across a bunch of dead Mexicans – the result of a drug deal gone wrong. Trying to escape the scene of this crime, you see a briefcase containing $2 million of dirty money. What do you do? Do you pick it up, or leave it?

This is the emotional quandary put upon cowboy Llewellyn Moss in the new Golden Globe nominated Coen Brothers masterpiece No Country for Old Men.

Based off of the Cormac McCarthy novel of the same name, the film was a gritty breath of fresh air.

The film itself sported a cast that rivaled that of The Departed. Tommy Lee Jones (Batman Forever) gives the performance of his career as Ed Tom Bell, the aging sheriff of a small Texas county. In my humble opinion, Jones was snubbed when his name was not announced at the Golden Globe nomination ceremonies.

Another actor who gave the performance of his relatively unknown career was Josh Brolin (Planet Terror) who played the antagonist Llewellyn Moss. He was scary, but likable, and one of the manliest characters in the history of cinema.

These actors had to take a backseat to a man named Anton Chigurh. Played by Javier Bardem (Before Night Falls) Chigurh was horrifically grotesque. His dialogue was frightening, his actions were shocking, and his weapons were dominating. The role has actually propelled Bardem to a Golden Globe nomination for Best Supporting Actor in a Motion Picture. Though that award seems destined for Phillip Seymour Hoffman, for the critically loved and acclaimed Charlie Wilson's War, Bardem would win if I had the vote.

Throw in a short, buy rather funny, performance by Woody Harrelson (Natural Born Killers) and you have the SAG Awards shoe-in for Best Performance by a Cast.

With all of this considered, I still haven't named the most important part of the cast. Silence was the greatest contributor to the overall effect of the film. In fact, the film didn't even have enough background score to qualify for a nomination. The simple sounds of a man breathing, or a door creaking created a painfully tense theatrical experience that was uncomfortable for the viewer, but at the same time strangely rewarding. Most of Brolin's on screen time is unpleasantly silent.

If you couldn't guess already, I am giving No Country for Old Men a 9/10. Such things as killing characters off-screen and not explaining pointless car wrecks keep this movie form a 10. Its mistakes almost improve the film, but they are mistakes nonetheless.

The Coen Brothers are two of the greatest directors of our time, and they have proved it with films like Fargo, O, Brother Where Art Thou?, The Big Lebowski, and Raising Arizona. This film is completely different than any of those. It is gritty and terrifying. You do not leave the theater pumped or excited, but more fulfilled. It may take a minute to even gather an honest reaction to the film.

I will warn you that if you are like me, by that I mean squeamish, there will be scenes that force you to turn your head.

Painfully gorgeous and hard to swallow, the Coen Brothers have again captured the true darkness and loneliness of the west. The tough cat and mouse chase between Moss and Chigurh launched the greatest film released since The Departed. Gathering four Golden Globe Nominations including Picture, Director and Screenplay, this unlovely picture will be the film to watch this award season.

Let me start off by saying that Mel Brooks is the funniest man alive. He has done several sweet movies like Blazing Saddles and Silient Movie. None of his movies however, match the joke after joke hilarity of Robin Hood Men in Tights. The movie takes classic characters and turns them into complete goofs. Cary Elwes is very funny as the English accented Robin Hood. Latrine is a a classic Tracy Ullman character that is funny throughout the whole movie. Ahchoo is played by a young lesser known Dave Chappelle and probably has the funniest lines in the movie that don't come from Blinkin'. Blinkin' is played by Mark Blankfield who does a terrific job playing the funny blind character. He is by far the funniest man in the whole movie. Throw in hilarious parts played by Mel Brooks, Richard Lewis and Isaac Hayes and then you have the funniest comedy of the 1990's.

Why on earth did this movie get so popular? It isn't funny, in fact it is just stupid. My stomach turns every time I see a Vote for Pedro tee-shirt. This movie did what a lot of comedies fail at. By that I mean fool people int laughing at things that aren't funny. They do this by trying to confuse the person watching. If you don't understand it after you watch it 10 times, it just isn't funny. It isn't smart or artsy like the rest of the voters think, it is just plain stupid. Hopefully people will realize that it isn't good, and stop saying lines from it, or laughing at its' ridiculous brand of humor. Nothing about this movie is smart, or well written. Just face it the cast of this movie have successfully duped you. Probably the worst movie I have ever seen.

I love this movie! In fact it went so far that my sister even bought me the soundtrack. But that doesn't mean I'm stupid. This movie is a train wreck that is truly embarrassing. Adrian Zmed is to good at acting to be reduced down to this filth. After seeing this movie I really want to know how on earth Michelle Phieffer ever became a star. She has a singing voice that reminds me of hitting a cookie sheet with a hammer. Her family should be humiliated by this movie. There is one classically funny part though. When Louis DiMucci(Peter Frechette) tricks his girlfriend into almost sleeping with him because the Russians are attacking. The end of the scene doesn't make any sense though, so that reminds you that the movie is bad. If you are looking for a good date movie, stick to the original. This movie just gives us another reason to hate sequels.

Rocky is the best movie that Stallone ever made. He wrote the movie and then he never looked back. Rocky was a bad boxer who never even was given the chance to be a has been. Then, due to the cancellation of a fight, Rocky gets a chance to fight the champion. Apollo Creed, brilliantly played by Carl Weathers, says that Rocky stands no chance and that it should be a walk in the park. Stallone trains hard awhile Creed blows the fight off. Then in the fight, Rocky comes very close to pulling of the upset. He looses the fight by decision. This is a very good movie with a solid love story, as well as good fight scenes. Don't be deterred by the fact that it has 4 bad sequels, because Rocky 1 is a brilliant picture.

This movie is good, not great , but good. I am not really into it, but I am am more of a Grease 2 fan myself. The one cool thing for guys in this movie is, of course, John "the coolest man on the planet" Travolta. He plays Danny, who falls in love with Sandy one summer at the beach. I really shouldn't waste the reader's time because they all know the story. I only want the young generation of guys who might think that Grease is just a movie for girls to stop and think. As a young man, I realized that by watching and liking Grease, I stood a 50% better chance of picking up women. So even though it is a chick flick, guys can greatly benefit from the movies greatness.

I know what the masses who vote on this movie are thinking. This movie blows it at the end. Changing the ending of the movie was a huge mistake, but Hollytwood loves the happy ending. this movie is great regardless of the not so stellar ending. Rick Moranis seems like he was put on this earth to play the uncool, nerdy, dirty, poor, but lovable hero. I have seen two different versions of this show on stage , and I have never seen a dentist played any better than the one played by Steve Martin. I personally think that Steve Martin is one of the most underrated actors of any generation, and it is because he plays goofy and unrealistic characters like Orin the dentist. He pulls this off very well, and his death scene is one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Also funny in this movie is a small cameo by Bill Murrey. He is a patient of the dentist and loves the pain that Orin is inflicting on him. That is another classically funny scene between two great comedians.