Very rarely can a movie adapted from television capture or maintain the momentum of the original show which it was based on. This is not to say it cannot be done, but merely that it is difficult to recreate the amplitude of its source material within a two-hour time frame. Batman: Mask of the Phantasm is one such film that aspires to do so and triumphs where others have failed.
The musician biopic has a long and interesting history: In the 40s and 50s, it was a sugar-coated narrative that idealized the lives of musicians; in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, the genre demystified the musician’s life when drugs, sex, and alcohol became more prevalent in popular culture; and in the 90s and 00s, the genre found complacency in clichés and formulaic plot devices. At the dawn of a new decade, Joann Sfar’s Gainsbourg: A Heroic Life (2010) comes as a breath of fresh air.
Much as his previous film The Outlaw Josey Wales utilized and built upon aspects of his established western archetype, Eastwood’s sixth film The Gauntlet followed on from the tough urban cop persona he had developed in Coogan’s Bluff and brought to fame with Dirty Harry and its (then) two sequels.
Having somewhat spurned his career—not to mention his relationship with Universal—with the critically derided The Eiger Sanction, 1976 saw Eastwood’s return to more familiar territory with the western The Outlaw Josey Wales, his first of an impressive 23 directorial credits to date under newly assumed home Warner Bros.
More often than not nowadays, interesting premises are marred by misleading ad campaigns and poor…
Sony did its best to shut critics out of early Columbiana screenings, and upon further inspection of the film itself, that was a solid company decision. The film is an utter disaster on nearly every level, the kind of ass-backwards movie experience that seems to run counter to our understood notions of what makes a film “rational,” “comprehensible,” or simply “good.” Perhaps the filmmakers purposefully intended to fly in the face of traditionally sound writing and directorial practices…or, more likely, the movie just plain sucks.
The nineteenth feature film from acclaimed Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar, and his first collaborative effort with Antonio Banderas since 1990, The Skin I Live In is a dark tale of loss which echoes the ethical concerns of Frankenstein.
By 1963, Jean-Luc Godard had established himself as the “rebel” of the Nouvelle Vague. The release of his sixth feature film, Contempt (1963) further cemented this title. Based on Alberto Moravia’s 1954 novel Il disprezzo, Contempt tells the story of Paul Javal (Michel Piccoli), an aspiring French screenwriter living in Italy, who is hired by a crude American producer, Jeremy Prokosch (Jack Palance), to doctor the script of a big screen adaptation of The Odyssey.
His fourth directorial outing, The Eiger Sanction is the film which—following a calamitous reception—infamously led to Eastwood’s embittered departure from Universal, the studio with which he had produced his previous three films as director, and with which he would not again work until 2008’s Changeling, some 33 years later.