Gael Garcia Bernal

REVIEW: Brainstorming a Miracle in ‘No’

I suffer from a disease common to many Americans, with the exception of those who actually enjoy working for large corporations: Tyrannophobia, or the rational fear of dictatorships.  This is probably why I remember so distinctly as a kid in Italy listening to a dowager of one of the noble Roman families tell my parents how much she missed Mussolini

Michael Haneke recieving Palme D'Or 2012

REVIEW: ‘Amour,’ a Winter Sonata in Love Major

I finally got to see Amour, the Austrian film by Michael Haneke that’s actually in French and set in Paris.  It’s not for lack of trying; I simply couldn’t find a theater in L.A. showing it.  You would have thought that a film nominated for five major Oscars, including Best Picture, Best Actress and Foreign Film, would be playing at the Arclight, the best darned cinema in the world.  But no.  Fandango didn’t list it as playing near me, either.  Finally, I tweeted Sony Picture Classics in frustration and reprimanded them for not showing such a prestigious film in L.A. of all places. 

French legend Annie Girardot

Remembering Annie—Part Three

Please read Part One and Part Two first.

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Recently, I’ve come to view a person’s path in life as being guided by something akin to a GPS navigation system.  I’ve even taken to calling the chick who lives inside that system, placidly and emotionlessly issuing directions, as Felicity Common-Sense.  The mistakes we make, major or minor, silly or fatal, are those turns in the road Ms. Common-Sense told us to make that we ignored.  Never mind: she usually resets and finds an alternate route to get us where we are meant to be.

As a modern Don Quixote, I have often switched Ms. Common-Sense off completely, no doubt annoyed by her monotonous robotic drone pointing at obvious directions that haven’t excited me, preferring instead to go off on my own tortuous, seemingly nonsensical path.

Sad People in Love

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES | REVIEW

by James Killough

As snarky as I tend to be in these pages, I do have a conscience.   I felt guilty about passing judgment on a film the other day without actually having seen it.  What I did was a bait-and-switch review, as Baker named it, by leading with how I would never want to see Beginners, but went to see Bridesmaids instead.  I said about Beginners, “It has chatty indie quirky feel-good Sundance Festival flick written all over it, which means I’m likely to hate it.”

I can't post yet another picture of Ewan McGregor. So I'll put in who I thought would have made a better lead in "Beginners." Michael Fassbender would have been perfect, too.

So I dragged my conscience-laden ass to the Arclight last night and, yeah, just as I thought, I pretty much hated Beginners.  If wanting to reach into my pocket, pull out my Blackberry and play World Series Poker for additional stimulus is an indication of how bored or annoyed I am, I stopped myself from reaching for it five times during the course of the film.