The epitome of what was an Allan Carr production/endeavor, no matter the media or year it was witnessed by the public, was the cross-section between inherent extravagance and a longing for a mythic past of Hollywood's invention.
A lone man pushes a wheelchair through the vast, unforgiving expanse of 20 uncharted miles of Death Valley back to civilization. Far from the psychedelic runoff of an uncontained Lynchian experiment, director Dominic Gill is documenting the final symbolic journey of motocross rider Aaron Baker, who in 1999 broke his neck and severely damaged his spinal cord, resulting in paralysis and significant mobility reduction with little hope of recovering.
There are few things more dependable in cinema than Bruce LaBruce's transgressive sexual politics and his aesthetic fixation with that enticing grey area between independent cinema and hardcore gay pornography.
AVA is completely composed of these static, penetrating shots into space that give off the air of stringent rules and authority in all the ways Ava finds herself decentralized in these compositions.
Never thought I would say this in a review, but you could honestly find better examples of cinema on PornHub than with the lowly Who's Jenna...?
Perhaps, with its priorities reorganized, the effort Kingsley puts into the role could not have been so thoroughly wasted; but as it stands, it seems An Ordinary Man is the lesser of the four films he appeared in last year.
From After Louie's conceptual standpoint there exists the foundation for a highly intriguing character study about this human artifact from the AIDS crisis coming to terms with the his generational succession by his community.
As a fan of the source's unsuspecting depth, this isn't nearly enough for me, but as an introduction to this story, it is more than suitable.
Ramen Heads comes apart, not because of its failings as much as its unintentional reiteration that it could have worked better as a short film.
Operation Red Sea should not be watched for its weak point in writing but be appreciated for its earnest proficiency in action directing.
Not since the days of David Cronenberg has the classical approximation of love as being the act of “giving a part of one's self to another” ever been more grotesquely literal than in Xander's Robin's destitute romance Are We Not Cats.
Existing on a precipice between its police-procedural grittiness and the fantastical digressions of its local mythology, Interchange is an anomaly with a failure to delineate these worlds from one another or to give exposition to their coexistence, making its investigative trip to mystic territory obtuse at best.
The Female Brain seems like the CliffsNotes of Dr. Brizedine's greater work and condensed into a romantic comedy schema, which desperately attempts to reject it.
Bilal fails at establishing its central hero for any of the teaching points you graft onto him.
It should be emphasized that the elements corralled together are strong in their own rights, and if Kurosawa could have shored up the dragging run time necessary to cover his juxtapositions, Before We Vanish could have been a much more promising endeavor.
Psychotic! is the perfect middle ground that manages to be equally unfunny and not scary in almost respectable equilibrium of incompetent filmmaking.
