And you thought George Lucas was making all that stuff up about Crystal Skulls.
Turns out there actually are crystal skulls like the kind Indy is searching for in the latest “Indiana Jones” adventure. Whether they have any mystical powers is another matter.
Check out “The Legend of the Crystal Skulls” at 8 p.m. EST Thursday July 10 on The Smithsonian Channel. The new special recalls a Smithsonian Institution curator’s 16-year quest to find the origins of a crystal skull mailed anonymously to the institution roughly 16 years ago.
The same day the special airs the actual Smithsonian will reveal that crystal skull, one of several known skulls in existence. It will remain on display through Sept. 1.
Sen. Patrick Leahy must be a pretty big Bat fan.
He’s about to star, or at least have a tiny cameo, in his third Batman-related project. I should be railing against a public official taking time away from the people’s business to pull of such a stunt, but I can’t be that much of a curmudgeon, right? Besides, his critics will argue he should spend even more time away from his Senatorial chores.
Yet another reason to anticipate the upcoming Coen brothers’ film, “Burn After Reading.”
The film, a return to the duo’s dark comedy roots, stars Brad Pitt, Frances McDormand and George Clooney. I just saw a teaser poster for the film over at imdb.com. Looks like something Alfred Hitchcock might have commissioned. Great stuff.
Where have you been, Helen Hunt?
The Oscar winner has been suspiciously quiet in recent years, but she’s back in a very big way with “Then She Found Me.” Hunt stars, co-wrote and directed this dramedy about a women staring down infertility and extreme mother issues.
April (Hunt) is nearing 40 and baby fever has taken hold. But her nebbish of a husband (Matthew Broderick, who can do nebbish in his sleep) suddenly announces their marriage was a mistake. Then, April’s adoptive mother dies. She does bump into a handsome divorced man (Colin Firth) at work which might provide some solace if she’s even ready for romance. But before she can consider Firth’s advances she learns her birth mother (Bette Midler) is looking to reunite with her.
Talk about a full plate, both for April and Hunt. But Hunt juggles the melodramatic arcs with a skill few could have guess she gleaned during her days in the sitcom trenches, and Midler’s restrained performance deserves award consideration if only the voters’ memories can go back as far as May.
Firth plays his prototypical Firth type, but his character is prone to rage episodes which add a welcome edge to the role. And Hunt is terrific in every scene, rendering April’s tortured moments with a haunting grace.
Hunt’s debut as a Hollywood hyphenate, “Then She Found Me,” portends a new chapter in the actress’ career - and makes her a director to watch.
Fledgling filmmakers would be wise to avoid complicated subjects for their film debuts. Start small, gain confidence and let your third or fourth feature dig deeper into the human condition.
Mike Reilly ignores that advice with “
Road to Victory,” a probing look at the intersection between athleticism and manhood. The result is a flawed but fascinating movie that traffics in complicated characters without ever sounding trite.
Reilly, who also wrote and directed “Victory, stars as Elliot, a promising college quarterback whose professional dreams may be dashed by a vicious on-field hit. The subsequent concussion gives professional scouts pause, but Elliot has more than the gridiron to worry about. He just met a dynamic young woman named Anna (Julia Anderson) and he’s unable to sexually satisfy her.
His impotence becomes a major issue between them. She’s a sexually-charged stripper who never had a celibate relationship before. Elliot must try to keep their relationship alive while juggling football practice, doctor visits and his own personal demons.
“Victory” takes a sophisticated approach to Elliot’s sexual dysfunction. It’s hard to imagine a mainstream film treating the subject with this level of delicacy, or with such compelling results. Elliot’s relationship with Anna is rocky and raw, but Anderson finds the smaller truths behind her character to keep their bond believable.
Reilly even squeezes in a steroids subplot with such precise strokes it adds another layer of reality to this football side of the story.
Not every scene works as intended, and a few clunky edits remind us of the film’s modest roots. But Reilly’s ambition finds far more success than failure.
“Road to Victory” shows what happens when a smart young filmmaker is brave enough to shove conventional wisdom aside.
Every other headline about the new “Sex and the City” film blares that only women are lining up to see it. Why would men want to spend two-plus hours with four beautiful women who speak frankly about sex, right?
So don’t be surprised to see more than a few gents watching “Sex” at your local movieplex. I’ve gotten e-mails from a few brave men who sheepishly told me they’re dying to see it. Nothing wrong with that, as I explain in my new
column over at
Pajamas Media.
The new Indiana Jones movie and the big-screen version of “Sex and the City” actually have something in common - grandiose expectations.
“Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull”
couldn’t live up to them, and nor can “Sex and the City,” now out in theaters. Fans flocked to see “Sex” anyway, and the film gives them some, not all, of what they want. My
review at Donne Tempo details why “Sex” fails to live up to the great HBO show.
I distinctly remember watching a tiny TV set in a DC bar 10 years ago as Mark McGwire hit yet another blast in that year’s historic home run race.
The debate over steroids was the furthest thought from my mind. Perhaps that ignorance, willful or otherwise, meant I was playing a small role in this nation’s addiction to steroids.
That thought came to me while watching “Bigger, Stronger, Faster*,” a fascinating new documentary about this country’s relationship with steroids.
My Washington Times review declares my admiration that the movie led me in directions I never suspected.
My zombie radar is pretty sharp, but someone “Fido” slipped past my sensors two years ago. The uber-subversive comedy stars Billy Connolly as Fido, a zombie who works as an indentured servant for the Robinsons.
Let’s back up a minute. “Fido” posits an alternate reality, circa the 1950s, when zombies and humans coexist. Humans defeated the zombies and, thanks to the Zom Com corporation, turned the zombies into docile slaves. And every family should have its own zombie, right?
Young Timmy Robinson (K’Sun Ray) forms a paternal bond with Fido only to find zombies are far more complicated pets than your average canine.
That’s the setting for this ambitious satire, which thanks to flat direction and uneven characterizations doesn’t quite fulfill its promise. It’s still blisteringly original and chock full of style, from its candy-colored sets to the gleeful mocking of the era. And it sure looks beautiful for a modestly budgeted project.
The brief “making of” featurette doesn’t fill in many blanks regarding the true meaning behind the film. Try this interview from Rotten Tomatoes for a better look inside the world of “Fido.”
Director Andrew Currie’s impulses lean to the left - and more power to him for doing so with such a creative spin. Sadly, film critic John Anderson of Newsday used the film as his own ideological cudgel:
But the real story is about Mom and her rotting house servant: In a world where conformity is currency, Mom would prefer a sensitive corpse to a live conservative. Therein lies a lesson for us all.Biases, like zombies, never die.
Director Roman Polanski’s life is ripe for a documentary - perhaps more than a few. HBO obliges tonight with “Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired” at 9 p.m. EST. The feature explores the most famous aspect of the director’s life, and sadly it’s not his impressive resume.
“Wanted and Desired” navigates his 1977 court case involving charges he drugged and coerced a 13-year-old girl into having sex with him. That case drowned out the director’s immense talent and convinced him to flee the U.S. rather than face any potential prosecution.
My Pajamas Media
review applauds the technical wizardry behind the documentary, but it still feels like a missed opportunity. Perhaps “Wanted and Desired” won’t be the last cinematic say on the subject.
