Jun 20, 2011
(rated R,118 mins.)
This movie of the Mexican painter Frida Kahlo (Salma Hayek) comes as close as possible to the beauty of her fabulous paintings and tumultuous lifestyle. Director Julie “The Lion King” Taymor’s passion exudes through the screen’s visuals only surpassed by Hayek’s performance. The movie quickly launches into the trolley accident of 1925 that left Frida barely alive let alone ever expected to walk again. With nothing to do after months of bed rest, her parents (Roger Rees and Patricia Reyes Spindola) purchase a special easel with a mirror attached above the bed frame, so that she can begin self-portraits of her outer beauty. This is when the movie kicks in with the irony of Frida’s inner beauty as well. But the beauty of the struggle to deal with intense pain and heal is instead camouflaged by the drugs, booze and sexual dalliances while married to acclaimed artist husband Diego Rivera (Alfred Molina) and her affair with Leon Trotsky (Geoffrey Rush). Her death, occurring in 1954 at the age of 44 or 47, depending on the source, brought her to the forefront for her balance of imagination and determination in her artwork yet offset by her later-discovered antics in her personal life. So much so she became a one word named icon like Madonna. Frida’s story is a world of fights and make-ups, lovers and husband, whirlwind relationships of capitalist Nelson Rockefeller (Edward Norton), the photographer (Ashley Judd) and muralist David Siqueiros (Antonio Banderas), not to mention the parallel of her physically frail frame to that of her large proportioned husband’s. The movie’s Mexican flavor, with its pioneer feel emerge Frida into the compelling reflection of the country itself, making a strong statement. Hayek takes on the role with a feeling of responsibility (and if marketed properly out of the Miramax sole-art-house arena), that may earn her an Oscar nod. Besides, any woman who grows a uni-brow and a moustache for this bipolar, bisexual woman, deserves some attention. The movie’s double plug is the artwork meets the cinematic story.
Jun 20, 2011
(not yet reviewed, rated PG-13, 118 mins.)
From director Gregory Hoblit (Primal Fear), comes a science-fiction thriller starring Dennis Quaid and Jim Caviezel. In Frequency, a stellar phenomenon enables a police officer to communicate back to 1969 with his dead father (Quaid), a firefighter. Through these unique conversations between a long lost father and son, the son attempts to prevent his father’s death and track down his mother’s killer.It’s been years since a “playing with time travel” kind of story. Remember the classic “Back To the Future”? Well, we’re way overdue. An original script with some emotional tugs, some cool special effects and a roller coaster thriller of a ride. Altering time begins a string of bizarre events domino effecting what was, to what could be. It works in an equation of sci-fi meets supernatural. Plus, audiences always have a fascination with the life hereafter. And, it’s such an over-the-top role for Quaid, his wife Meg (Ryan) can take a couple of years off.
Jun 20, 2011
rated R, In a movie written by Richard Price adapted from his own novel, comes a disjointed film about a woman (Julianne Moore) who discovers her white child is missing in a black neighborhood. And since she doesn’t seem to behave, respond or care about the kidnapping from the first scene on, neither do we. Samuel L. Jackson, on the other hand, gives a effortlesss and believeable performance as the detective assigned the case, even though the role provides less bite than he usually handles. Edie Falco plays an evangelist for missing children, who seems to care more about the-little-boy-lost than his own mother, busy making a guest appearance at a nursery school to cheer the students. I’m sorry, but find me one mother who would take time to do this within 24 hours of their child reported missing? While classless characters like Julia Roberts in “Erin Brokovitch” or Charlize Theron in “North Country” are likable, Moore’s character is not. She’s even oddly detestable, though I’m never quite convinced it’s completely her fault. She seems to do the best she can do with the material she’s working with. One positive exception is her riveting speech about what may have happened to her son on the night in question. Of course the bigger question is why she continues taking these type of roles? Didn’t she just do this (and better) in “The Forgotten”? This ain’t no “Deep End of The Ocean” and Moore is certainly no MIchelle Pfeifer. One tiara
Jun 20, 2011
If you’re Asian, Latino, or Black, you can get “blasted” anytime you walk out the door over something as simple as territory, respect or even color. Or for no good reason at all. Its Freshman year, 1994 – during the influential L.A. riots – and Ms. Campbell (Imelda Staunton) runs a school with a poor curriculum of barely keeping these kids alive. Enter Erin Gruwell (Hillary Swank) a Freshman English Teacher whose students give her one week to survive in their classroom-from-hell. Sure we’ve seen this premise before, but not this delivery. Unlike “To Sir With Love” or “Dangerous Minds” writer/director Richard Lagravanese’s “Freedom Writers” takes us on an emotional journey from the moment the very likable and vulnerable Swank enters her classroom to its triumphant ending. We are this nervous teacher, we are these angry students, and soon we feel the transition of Eva (April Hernandez), Marcus (Jason Finn), Jamal (Deance Wyatt) and all the rest. Their world is not white-bread Mean Girls. It’s way beyond that. And (based on a true life story) Ms. Gruwell finds the strangest and most original way to penetrate their anger. While they know Tupac, she wants them to read “The Diary of Anne Frank.” Why? Because the Holocaust can mirror their pain, even if they were Jewish and white. As her students slowly begin writing their own diaries as a means of expressing their pain, you’ll smile, you’ll cheer and you’ll cry – even the men will – so bring a box of tissues. Four tiaras
Jun 20, 2011
(rated R, 87 mins)
Udder-ly gross is the only way to describe the tale of a man (Tom Green) who writes, directs and stars in this tale that includes cow milking, horse petting and a lot of newborns and umbilical cords. Including his own. Trying to up the anti and surpass the kings of gross, the Farrelly brothers, this movie will hopefully be the last of the gross out comedies in a story of Gord Brody (Green) who leaves his parents in Oregon (Rip Torn and Julie Hagerty), still attached to his own umbilical cord (literally), working up confidence to travel to L.A. to become an animator. The lack of rhythm, unmatched scenes, and haphazard comedy are so bad that trying to piece meal any semblance of a story is useless. Green ends the movie by saying, “What the fuck am I doing?” I couldn’t have said it better. Oh, and we won’t even get into the title but let’s just say it’s sad to see Torn involved in such a gross out mess.
