Typically, I am someone who is able to find at least one redeeming quality in a piece of art. If nothing else, I can appreciate the time it may have taken to get a hunk of metal into just...the...right...sized...sphere. Or the brush strokes to create just...that...right...shade...of...black. But sometimes I come across a movie that I just can't get behind. The story is too much of this, or not enough of that; the actor isn't speaking to me, or speaking too much at me. I remain hopeful there is some member in the audience who is engaged in the story, but these times, it weren't me:
Crank - I am a giant Jason Statham fan. I find him exciting and irreverent, sexy as hell. But I think he must of really been behind in his mortgage payments for him to sign on to this stinker.
Four Brothers - Andre 3000 looks great on a movie screen. Marky Mark's voice is always musical. Revenge film? I'm in. None of that can save this craziness.
The Groomsmen - Speaking of revenge, I think this is Ed Burns' & Matthew Lillard's answer to the endless Chick Flicks that Hollywood likes to throw at us. All star cast (if only Brittany Murphy could act) that falls flat as Jay Mohr's New England accent.
Van Helsing - It's monster mania with the dashing Hugh Jackman playing hero. The only way I would have stayed in the theater would have been to have him sitting next to me. But he wasn't, so I didn't.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment