glvalentine: (omg no)
So, this Christian propaganda film is about the dangers of premarital kissing. (I suspect this is a joint production of Christian Propaganda Enthusiasts and the PDA-Weary NYC Subway Riders' Association, but there's no proof of this.)

Rich at fourfour found a gold mine with this one.


Even worse /better than the clip is the actual trailer for the movie, which has a Very Intense Narrator and some astoundingly awkward shots of the father making his daughter hug him, being in her bedroom at night, and generally violating all those personal-space rules he just made for little Pamela. ONE STEP BACK, DAD, THANK YOU.

glvalentine: (omg no)
So, remember that little Disney window I talked about with The Rocketeer, where they skewed for live-action and slightly more adult? This was part of that movement. This was just the part that was a terrible idea.

Let me tell you, this movie firmly deserves to end up on the WNT side of Questionable Taste Theatre. This would be true on its own merits; the fact that, during my middle and high school years, the teachers of three schools in three different states ALL had this as their default sick-day movie, cements the deal. THREE STATES, you guys. I have seen this movie approximately eight hundred times. It pretty much turned me off live musicals forever, and it wasn't even one. Nice job, movie.

The worst part, though, is that I've been Brave New Worlded into knowing most of the lyrics. If some stranger shouts, "Try Bottle Alley or the Harbor!" I would shout back without thinking, "Try Central Park, it's guaranteed!" I can never un-know what I know, don't you understand?

It's a fine life, carrying the bannah! )
glvalentine: (Default)
Ever since The Phantom of the Opera sequel was announced, I knew this day would come.

Enjoy the first ballad from "Phantom of the Opera: Love Never Dies," in which Erik returns to a small Northwest town to find the blank-eyed girl he left behind for her own good, because he was so Tortured and Artistic and Piano-playing that she couldn't HANDLE his LOVE. (Not really. But I bet they wish they had thought of that before they nailed everything down!)

In case it wasn't enough like Twilight, please note that this sequel to Phantom of the Opera cast a Phantom who had to drop his senior-year musical to be in this.

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There was an era (and by "an era" I think I mean "a period of three years") when Disney set aside the cavalcade of animated princesses and made a couple of unusual movies. They were unusual because of their settings, unusual because of their gentle skew to the adult, and unusual because they were good. Perhaps the best, certainly the most adult of these movies, is The Rocketeer.

And by "adult" I mean, "Turn the Lech-o-meter down a notch, Tim Dalton, damn."

The Rocka-who? )
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As part of my Strange Horizons bribe post, [ profile] rachel_swirsky requested Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

I hadn't thought much about the movie in years, except to think, "Maxine of Arc, Dave Beeth Oven," whenever people make awkward introductions. So I rewatched it.

Man, this movie is HILARIOUS.

You are dealing with the oddity of time travel with the greatest of ease. )
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So, as part of my Strange Horizons post (which is still open for anyone who donated, BTW), I got a request for The Hunger.

I hadn't seen The Hunger in maybe ten years. I wrote down my initial memories of the movie, just to see, and then watched the movie again.

Now, in real life I have the recall of a goldfish. Friends are constantly having to remind me about the year in which things happened, because if it's not, "God, was that the year I saw Elizabeth, like, thirty times?" then I will have no idea when it was, what happened, or how I felt about it.

The Hunger? Was almost SHOT FOR SHOT what I remembered. So basically, I don't remember my last year of high school, but I remember this movie. If that doesn't scare you, nothing will.

My pre- and post-movie impressions, and one of the worst trailers ever made (not an exaggeration), under the cut!

It's a bruise. It will fade. )
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John Hughes died earlier this week. The retrospectives and personal essays are going up all over the place, and though this movie has been in the hopper for a while, there's no better time to talk about what I think is his best movie: Some Kind of Wonderful.

This is what my girlfriend would look like without skin. )
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So, in A Night at the Movies, I mentioned Pathfinder as an appalling example of racism in cinema. I promised to write it up more fully. And I meant to, I really did!

But the problem with this movie is that writing about it doesn't do it justice. It's one thing to write, "The Native American characters are useless." But it really doesn't capture the true flavor of a director who said, "You know who needed saving by a white guy? Those Native Americans who let themselves get killed because they were a bunch of helpless whiners!"

And thus, Pathfinder was born. Because if there was anything that would have stopped that genocide, it was one white dude who Just Wanted to Belong.

It gets worse. )

To get right to the cringing, enjoy the Abridged Classic below.

(Check out more Abridged Classics at Defenestration, [ profile] andrewkaye's joint, and home of Eileen who makes me watch Shakira videos.)

Emma 2009

Jul. 12th, 2009 09:29 pm
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In case you didn't catch the last fifteen Austen adaptations on the BBC, they're tackling Emma later this year.

Good news: Romola Garai, Johnny Lee Miller, Jodhi May, Michael Gambon, Blake Ritson (poached from Mansfield Park!), Rupert Evans, and Head Bitch in Charge (Except in Hex Where She Died) Christina Cole means that place is Awesome British Actor Camp. Plus, Emma wears a collar during the day! Progress!

Bad news: Johnny is much too young and cute to really capture the ridiculous WHEN YOU WERE NINE skeeve of Mr. Knightley. The adaptation with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong comes closest to the age differential, where she's seventeen and he's SIX HUNDRED YEARS OLD. Not that I don't love Mark Strong - he's quite foxy! - but Austen really highlighted the fact that he decided to express his romantic feelings for her, which he's had since she was LESS THAN THIRTEEN, by acting like her dad and telling her that's what he's doing. Ah, romance!

Preview! Spoilers for people who haven't read the book; though, let's be fair, you've had since 1811 to get on that.

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REMINDER: I'm reading at the NYRSF Federations event tonight! Now, to business.

Sometimes I see a movie and want to write about it immediately, like when I walked out of Moon and wanted to ask everyone in the theatre to go talk about it in some 24-hour living room. (Except the dude who stank of cologne and sat right behind me. He's not invited. Anywhere. Ever.)

And sometimes I see a movie, and it confuses and disgusts me so much that I go months without watching it again, much less being willing to write about it, because part of me thinks, "No one else needs to know about that movie, right?" Except that whenever someone starts a conversation about the worst movie ever (invoking, say, Transformers 2), I get this urge to shove the DVD box at them and scream, "Look at this! JUST LOOK!"

Which brings us to today's movie, Octane! AKA Pulse or Diesel, depending on which direct-to-DVD region you live in.

Nutshell: Mischa Barton and Madeleine Stowe's new wax lips are on a road trip for no reason, being haunted by truck-stop people who may or may not be real, but since they are blue-collar we know they must be evil no matter what, so we're good. Mischa Barton gets recruited to a car-crash cult that parties in nightclubs inside empty gas trucks, and is taken to have sex with Jonathan Rhys Meyers because she's a perfect virgin sacrifice to the car-crash gods. And that's the part that MAKES SENSE.

Casting directors for the O.C. should have paid attention to that sign, no?

Oh, Madeleine Stowe. WHAT are you doing. )

Hats off!

May. 28th, 2009 10:00 pm
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I'm catching up on wordcount at the moment, so I'm not blogging as much as I'd like. When I've recovered from WisCon, expect some more of the Catherine Cookson Experience, a pile of Questionable Taste Theatres, and a response to Darin Bradley's challenge.

In the meantime, mad respect to these dancers, who have better spacial memory than I ever will.

Even more respect to the dancers of the period, who did this dance in crowded, smoky rooms, basically in the dark (candles never give off more light than absolutely necessary, the bastards), forty pounds of embroidered clothing, shoes with no demarcated left and right, and the stench of unwashed humanity constantly crawling up their noses. Ah, romance!

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So, the problem with a character like Sherlock Holmes is that you can, in theory, take any element of him and run with it until you have a two-hour movie. It's just - it's a plan. As evidenced above, it's not a GOOD plan, but it's a plan.

(Related: I didn't remember that Sherlock Holmes dodged quite so many explosions. Learn something every day!)

Also, Rachel McAdams should be famous enough by now to be allowed to wear clothes in the preview, right?

It's not even that I'm a purist - I thorougly enjoyed the remake with Rupert Everett and Ian Hart and Michael Fassbender and Perdita Weeks and Rachel Hurd-Wood in it. It was well-made, and it's really useful for Awesome British Actor Camp bingo. But for real, even with all the liberties they took, there was not a lot of useless slow motion and running-from-explosions.

I know Guy Ritchie has a pretty small bag of tricks, but damn.
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
So beautiful. So hilarious.

glvalentine: (nerd alert)
You guys, this trailer made me cry laughing. It's the "Coco" trailer translated by a high school kid with one and a half semesters of French. I can't even.

Via Jezebel.
glvalentine: (omg no)
I know how much everyone wanted to see Midnight Bayou and just didn't get around to it.

Lifetime, harbingers of unintentional hilarity, put it on their site in nine convenient chunks you have to click around to find! Nice job, Lifetime.

For those who want the spinning-bed sex, you'll want to check out the last few minutes of Part 3, where Jerry O'Connell faints, then immediately asks a woman out for coffee, then immediately sexes her.

If you're looking for the accidental "your mom" joke, it's about 1:40 into Part 7. Without the stone-serious hour that precedes it, you're sort of missing out on the full impact, but there's no way to really miss out on a "your mom" joke, so if you just want to click through and see what happened to Jerry O'Connell's face, go on ahead.
glvalentine: (Default)
I picked up Mary Reilly as my subway reread for the week, and I feel guilty about it. See, it's a very good book (my favorite aspect of it being Mary's total devotion to and enslavement within the Victorian class system blah blah undergradcakes), and people on the subway should not see me snickering as I read. However, I can't help but think of the movie adaptation, which is one of the campest movies I've ever seen. (And we all know the movies I've seen. This is not a small statement.)

You can't tell from this picture, but John Malkovich has an enormous head. At one point Julia Roberts puts her palm up against his cheek and it's like putting a Barbie hand on a Cabbage Patch Kid.

glvalentine: (nerd alert)
Oh, ONTD. 90% of the time you are Jensen Ackles picspams. 10% of the time, you are gold.

Scenes from the new sitcom "I Love Rorschach."

glvalentine: (Default)
So usually I'm a nerd or a bastard, but sometimes I'm just a huge sap. It happens. Like when I watch Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.

There is not even a pretense of objectivity here, you guys. This movie is amazing. It's like the director woke up one morning and said, "I'm going to recruit a bunch of character actors from Awesome (Sorta-)British Actor Camp and slap them in '30s England and let them all have happy endings. Every single one of them."

This has not happened since Cold Comfort Farm. IT WAS ABOUT TIME.

Nutshell: Miss Pettigrew, an unemployed governess, accidentally becomes social secretary to American nightclub singer Delysia Lafosse. They hit the town with a bunch of adorable people, run around for a day putting on awesome dresses, and get happy endings. It is not Rashomon, is what I'm saying. It is awesome, is what I'm saying.

There could not be any more spoilers, or pictures, under this cut.

Am I terribly old-fashioned? )
glvalentine: (Default)

1. Directed by Karl Lagerfeld as a ten-minute advertisement for his clothes. He put it on the "interwebs" to catch the attention of young whippersnappers, apparently! AND IT WORKED.

2. "Who made that horror you're wearing?"
"That doesn't surprise me."

Okay, this is a seriously catty and awesome fashion history in-joke. Chanel and Poiret were Not Fond of Each Other. (Stay coooooool boys!)

3. I am a sucker for silent films; all the Pre-Code nastiness and ridiculous visual metaphors and long, lingering close-ups of a woman talking for thirty seconds and then a single title card that says: "Until tonight, then." I love it all. Lagerfeld might as well have projected this movie directly into my heart.

4. All the title cards are in French, with a tiny English subtitle at the very bottom. If you don't speak conversational French, he doesn't even want you buying his clothes.

Six more reasons, and the movie! )


glvalentine: (Default)
Genevieve Valentine

September 2010

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