The Masters of Horror collection is a wonderful idea fronted by Mick Garris that, in a way, pits the best horror directors currently working today (most of them, anyway) against each other in a battle to make the most effective one hour horror gem. I realize that the initial purpose may not have been competition, but having this much talent in the same association means that even if the directors aren't taking this endeavor as a competition, then horror fans certainly are.
There are few authors who have contributed as much to the world of horror literature as H.P. Lovecraft. Stuart Gordon has proven that no other filmmaker shares his appreciation for the work of Lovecraft. His career essentially began with Re-Animator, he has crafted some fine adaptations since, and I'm certain he'll choose to cap it off with yet another adaptation. I personally would have it no other way, as there would be no more suiting a way to bookmark a fine career.
No film-maker has had a greater influence on my approach to film and film-making than Dario Argento. I'd grown up a horror-fiend (still am, actually), yet the American outputs of the 80's had little or no discernible style. Argento introduced me to the fact that style can certainly increase the effect of the substance of a film, regardless of genre. Also, it can be, simply put, pretty to look at. I think more visual moments from Argento films are ingrained in my mind than any other director. It is here that my love for foreign films, horror and otherwise, began.
In the winter of 2003, a catastrophic fire erupted in a Rhode Island concert club, ultimately claiming 100 lives. Out of the ashes of the tragedy arose an equally profound story of hope. "41" tells the remarkable story of Nicky O'Neill, the young actor, writer and musician who left the world at age 18 but who left behind a message of deep spiritual importance that has already inspired thousands. "41" weaves together the story of a beautiful life cut short with the saga of a community in mourning and a family finding its way out of the darkness.
The greatest killer Sasquatch movie ever made? Perhaps. Have there been that many good killer Sasquatch movies? Not really. Is the term “killer Sasquatch” redundant? I suppose so, as I've never seen a friendly Sasquatch movie. (No, Harry and the Hendersons doesn't count.) Ryan Schiffrin's film is entertaining beyond its small budget, as he wisely chooses to keep the monster hidden from full view until it nears its climactic conclusion.
There is a scene in "About Schmidt" where Jack Nicholson (Schmidt) walks into a Dairy Queen, and orders a blizzard with two toppings. I realize it may not sound like noteworthy material to be mentioning, but think about it for a second. What a surreal it is thing to be seeing Nicholson in a fast food establishment; a Dairy Queen. Nicholson is perhaps the screen's biggest star, and definitely one of the great actors of all time. To see him doing something so normal and recognizable brings him down to earth; to our level, if you will. He is no longer a screen icon, but a normal everyday person who does the same things in a day that you and I do. It is this scene that sets us up for the rest of the picture, for Schmidt is perhaps the least glorious, and normal central character in cinematic history. That he is played by Jack Nicholson is perhaps its greatest irony as well, and it works so well that it's difficult to imagine any other actor pulling off this role in such a watchable way.
A problem that lies inherently within “Based on True Event” films is that liberties are always taken. This is completely acceptable and even necessary, given that film is a creative medium. However, these changes to the central and factual storyline often add nothing of consequence to the film, or even worse, are detrimental to the films overall impact. "Alpha Dog" seems like one of those films. It is based on true events, and while I am not familiar with the events that actually did transpire, there are a few sequences in the film which seem terribly out of place, and suggest that they may have been added strictly for the purpose of titillation.
How do you review a movie like "Anatomy of Hell"?
The route a lot of people went is just by slamming it. They said it was perverse, sick, indulgent, repulsive, and full of itself. I can't disagree with any of these sentiments.
So why do I love it?
I don't know. But I have a theory.
"The Aristocrats" takes its title from the punch line of the world's filthiest joke. A joke that I had no idea existed before watching this movie. What sets this particular joke apart from the infinite realm of other jokes, is that, while nearly every comedian apparently knows it, it's completely different every time. It works like this... A family, generally consisting of a father, mother, son, daughter, and pet dog (or in one instance, a gorilla), approaches a talent agent or manager with a great idea for a stage show. Depending who's telling the joke, the comedian digs deep, and comes up with the most disgusting imagery he can think of, involving bodily fluids and waste, sex, violence, whatever, all involving only this family. "That's great" says the agent... "What do you call yourselves?" the father replies, "The Aristocrats".