Under the Skin

REVIEW: ‘Under the Skin’ Does Just That

It’s a testament to Jonathan Glazer’s singular, jagged-collage storytelling technique that I didn’t realize I’d read the book from which his Under the Skin is adapted until midway through the film. In fairness to me, the adaptation is so unfaithful it’s a wanton slut who’s been fucked so vigorously and pleasurably she’s unrecognizable.

(Like every reviewer, I’m going to have to give away who the lead character really is and what she does. If you want to experience the pure fine-art experience of Glazer’s masterpiece, the surprises as they unfold, stop here. Know before you go that it is a masterpiece — not a movie, not a film, but cinema — therefore immune to subjective negative-or-positive opinions. Okay. That’s all. Good-bye.)

Ton Cruise Oblivion

REVIEW: ‘Oblivion’ Reignites a Fading Star

I have to apologize to whomever was sitting within earshot of me at the Arclight Hollywood at the midnight screening of Les Misérables when it opened and I saw the trailer for Joseph Kosinski’s Oblivion for the first time.  I boomed, “Oh great, more Scientology bullshit.”  From the look of the trailer, it seemed clear to me that Tom Cruise had finally hopped his last sofa and made his own Battlefield Earth, the stinker about a dystopian Earth based on Scientology myth that Cruise’s fellow cult member and non-Ghey John Travolta caused to be made back in 2000.

Sadly, this is not the case, and I say sadly because I had intended to have great fun slicing and dicing Oblivion,

The Underage‑Sex Reverse Richter Scale

BAKER STREET

by Eric J Baker

Editor’s Note: This marks the 100th post on the PFC blog, which wouldn’t mean much if this were TMZ with a dozen fluffy gossip posts an hour, but a PFC piece requires a lot of TLC to create.  It’s only appropriate that Eric Baker take this honor because it is he who kicked us over the 4,000-views-a-day mark on Friday with his Duran Duran story.  — James Killough

We were talking movie directors here the other day (actually, I was talking movie directors and Killough was like, “Yeah whatever, Baker—shut the fuck up—I know”) and Roman Polanski came up, not for his movies but for his marriage to Sharon Tate. The Polanski-Tate union suffered from the dreaded Billy Joel-Christie Brinkley syndrome years before medical science had even identified the disease, which occurs when an ugly, talented man marries a beautiful, possibly talented, but who cares, she’s a goddess, woman. And Sharon Tate was a goddess.

But, Sharon, why Frodo? WHY?

You may know that Tate was murdered in 1969 by Charles Manson’s gang and that Polanski went on to perpetrate a sexual act against a 13-year-old girl in the mid 1970s.