With the Oscar nominations announced, the studios will be spending this weekend resituating their big contenders, leaving a handful of new releases to spackle the empty slots in the megaplex that were previously occupied by “Nine” …
“Dear John”: Having endured “Message in a Bottle”, “The Notebook”, “A Walk to Remember” and “Nights in Rodanthe”, I am contractually exempted from any further Nicholas Sparks movies. Susan took the bullet, bless her.
“From Paris with Love“: John Travolta, entertaining? Perish the thought! And yet, somehow, his go-for-broke Samuel L. Jackson impression fits perfectly into Luc Besson’s latest European shoot-em-up. Hell, he even makes Jonathan Rhys Meyers look like a credible action hero, rather than a hollow-boned prat.
“Frozen“: Adam Green’s merciless thriller strands three young people on a chair lift — and us along with them — in a tense, occasionally excruciating study in survival horror. If you’ve ever had frostbite, well, prepare to feel a lot of sympathy pain.
“I Killed My Mother“: After spending nine months on the festival circuit — Cannes! Toronto! Palm Springs! — Xavier Dolan’s festival smash finally opens in Toronto. I can’t say I’m one of its biggest boosters, but it’s certainly worth a look if you’re curious as to what the fuss was all about.
“St. John of Las Vegas“: Who is Hue Rhodes, and how did he talk Steve Buscemi, Sarah Silverman, Romany Malco, Peter Dinklage, Tim Blake Nelson into appearing in his terrible, terrible movie? You know what? Don’t answer that. Just tell me he’ll never work again, and we can all go home.
After the sour taste of Tatum in GIJoe, I refuse to watch his other works. Do you realize his character was named Duke Hauser? Dukie Hauser? Sounds too much like Doogie Hauser.
Not to defend Tatum, who is in my opinion the worst actor to ever live on this planet, or that atrocious G.I. Joe movie, but the character’s “file name” is actually Conrad Hauser, code-named Duke. The movie does not make this clear, though I do believe someone calls him “Connie” at one point.
Nice try with From Paris With Love, Norm, but it looks like something I’ve seen thirty or forty times already and wasn’t that fond of in the first place. I feel like John Travolta is turning into Pacino, just dialling his performances in. On the upside, at least he’s not blue and speaking Navi!
“St. John of Las Vegas” = Worst Film I’ve Seen So Far This Year.
And, remember… I suffered through “Dear John” about a week before that.