Showing posts with label Movie Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movie Reviews. Show all posts

Jody Foster..intriguing mystery. Playful pretty photo sneaks into my blog realm unnoticed!


This past week a couple of controversial posts drove the traffic sky-high at the naughty "Tattler".

So much so, that the server went down and I couldn't even access my own blog!

Needless to say, some snafus reared their ugly head as well.

For example, a couple of separate posts merged into one, on occasion the google blogspot log-in page didn't load properly (so it was off-kilter and screwed up!) and data just went zip into thin air.

Consequently, I spent a part of the afternoon going thru the blog to get a handle on glitches.

Curiously, when I stumbled across an older review of Jody Foster's last thriller - "The Brave One" - I was inclined to click it open and check for broken links, double-check for typos, that sort-of-thing.

Well, I received quite a jolt when the mesmerizing publicity still of Ms. Foster (above) popped up on the screen!

You see, originally, I featured the studio publicity shot used to advertise the film which captured Jody in a decidely butcher stance with a menacing revolver in hand. (below)

Imagine what a surprise it was to encounter the one gracing the top of the blog page staring me in the face in its stead.

Gosh, have the High Priests of the Internet band waves been playing fast 'n loose - engaging in a little Tom-foolery - with the specific intent of wrecking havoc with my memory?

More astounding, I am forced to consider the very real possibility that Ms. Foster played a hand in the intriguing mystery.

After all, with a few well-placed connections in the biz (at the studio where the source code could be tinkered with) it is highly conceivable that Ms. Foster could have pulled off the clever stunt.

If that's the case, Jody - you blew me away!


Stumbling across your sexy little bod stretched out over the bed like that (whilst you gazed so intently into the camera lens with that come-hither-look beckoning (me?) was a captivating moment that caused my heart to skip a beat, to say the least.

I expect you were at Gay Pride today, too, incognito?

Do tell.

I'll keep it on the down low, promise!

Stuck...tale ripped from headlines disturbs filmgoers!


Obviously, it was an important screening for the producers of "Stuck".

All the executives turned out for a sneak preview with the leading actors in tow - Mena Suvari & Russell Hornsby - who jetted in from far-off locales to attend.

A virgin to the U.S. Market, "Stuck" screened at the Toronto Film Festival recently to enthusiastic audiences.

Yeah, a big push for a release stateside proved successful. Today, the gory horror feature opens at the Nuart in Los Angeles and selected theatres across the country.

Frankly, I can't recall when I've attended a preview where the audience reacted so violently - moaned, cried out - were emotionally wrought over the events unfolding on the silver screen.

"Stuck" is raw and gritty and potent filmmaking; partly because of the special effects - which are damning, they're so realistic - and also due to the remarkable convincing performance by Stephen Rea in the lead role.

When the invite arrived for the sneak preview, I nearly passed.

"Stuck"...what kind of title was this for a movie?

At the theatre, filmgoers in-the-know noted that the project was based on a true story ripped from the headlines.

A young woman, on her way home from a bout of frenzied late-night partying, gets distracted on her cell phone. In a split second, suddenly - without warning - a homeless man steps in front of the oncoming car.

She slams into him.

The hapless character (played by Rea) unceremoniously gets "stuck" in the windshield of her vehicle. In shock - and distraught over the accident (and probably confused by virtue of the mind-altering drugs in her system) - she is at a loss to fathom the appropriate action to take.

So, she speeds home with the man dangling out the splintered window - parks the car in the garage - then dashes in the house to figure a way out of her dilemma.

At this juncture, it's important to note that at the crawl of the credits, producers stated that the film was "inspired by a true story"; herein, lies one cue.

There will be a departure from the original tale.

For me, the other hint at what was to unfold was obvious due to a remark the producer made before the curtain fell.

With a bit of glee, he noted that Amicus - the Indy Horror-Genre Film House - was distributing the thriller. Clearly, this was not going to be a sensitive morality tale with a cozy ending!

Indeed, it wasn't...

In fact, "Stuck" is definitely not for the squeamish!

In one scene, when Rea desperately writhes forward to snatch up a cell phone just beyond his reach, he is forced to drag his mutilated body over jagged pieces of glass and metal. Along the painful journey, the audience is treated to images of the slicing and dicing of flesh and disturbing images of blood spurting from the gaping wounds.

We feel his pain, his anguish...

In another shocking scene, I hid my face in my hands - occasionally peering through clenched fingers - waiting for closure. When it wasn't forthcoming, I asked the guest next to me to signal me when the traumatic violent stabbings came to a close.

Although the dialogue was often appropriate, due to some clever juxtaposition of images (which often caused a riveting upsurge of tangled emotions and feelings), the utterances jarred the sensibilities. One minute the filmgoer is forced to laugh maniacally, the next recoil in genuine horror.

Yeah, "Stuck" is a real roller-coaster ride!

The ending, well - it's a smash-up surprise.

This film is going to cause a lot of buzz because it's shocking and disturbing and pulls no punches.

"Stuck"...will make you come unglued!

Shelter..."coming out" film refreshing in approach!


As I waited for the ushers to cart out the trash from the first screening of "Shelter" at the Regency Theatre, an elderly woman sauntered out of the pitch black and struck up a bit of idle chit-chat with me.

"The film is about two gay guys. But, not much goes on in the movie," she assured me.

"No fights, nothing."

Not having screened the film yet, I was inclined to respond in an upbeat fashion.

"Maybe that's the message. Maybe life doesn't always have to be an ordeal."

When the curtain fell, and the storyline unfolded, I was forced to consider the woman was either out-of-her-cups or had fallen asleep during the movie.

Yes, the film starts off fairly routine.

An appealing young man is holed up with his sister and her young child in a spotty part of San Pedro (in that respect, a downer for sure!).

Although a relationship with a pretty young gal appears to be on keel, he is struggling - on the other hand - to achieve success as an artist.

On a trip to pick up some gear at his best friend's house in an upscale part of town - he casually runs into the older brother - a handsome virile surfer.

One thing leads to another - and suddenly - the pretty dudes end up in-between the sheets together.

The romance unfolds so naturally, and believably, that it appears for all-the-world to be a kind-of fairy-tale love story.

Only in the movies, right?

But, as fate would have it, loved ones - a sister, for instance - throw a damper on things.

"I can't deal with you being a fag right now, not with all my problems," she whines.

Suddenly, the young man goes into a tailspin, doubts his feelings for the surfer, and ends up going through a traumatic period of angst, denial, and uncertainty about the lifestyle that possibly lurks ahead.

As the kinks work their way out, the predictable happens.

The winsome twosome reunite in a classic Hollywood-style ending.

Yeah, gays are not immune to the bull**it producers doll out under the guise of marketability.

"Shelter's" strong suit springs from its strident capacity to take a fresh approach to otherwise cliché material over well-travelled territory.

Yes, this project is a long cry from its groundbreaking forefathers such as - "Boys in the Band", "Lone Companion", and "Brokeback Mountain".

There is a lot of eye-candy scattered about the landscape to gobble up, too - lush beach settings, for instance - populated by tanned yummy-looking people.

Who knew Prince Charming was so easy to stumble upon in a world of tortured gay men?

However, I found one aspect of the feature a bit troubling.

In spite of the fact the surfer is older and has obviously slept around a bit - the issue of HIV status and "safe sex" - is never broached.

I found the producers negligent in this regard and their actions unconscionable.

In fact, this film sugar-coats a number of important gay issues.

In the final analysis, "Shelter" ends up being sheer fantasy.

A bad message to promote to the young gay community.

Train Master...charming family entertainment at Backlot Film Festival!



The buzz around the Backlot Film Festival was that a surprise independent - "Train Master" - was the film to catch.

In fact, Phil Bransom - a film producer who hails from Oregon - crafted a charming independent that touches the heart and is a must-see.

In fact, one woman at the question & answer period was inclined to note with elation:

"It was so refreshing to sit back and watch an entertaining movie without any bad language or inappropriate material."

Disney would be envious!

In the first engaging scenes - the audience is quickly introduced to a cast of likable characters - an experienced train "master" in charge of a quaint rail line in the Pacific Northwest, his young grandchildren and a smattering of their friends, and a few unpretentious townsfolk who charm by virtue of their down-to-earth nature.

A young entrepreneur (the rogue of the film) schemes to snap up the old railroad for a song, turn it around, and generate big bucks in the process.

But, after retiring the engineer (a seasoned pro) and introducing innovations that fail miserably, it is soon evident his vision was ill-conceived.

During a mishap, one of the ailing locomotives fires up and starts barreling down a stretch of the worn old tracks, with a small posse of startled kids on board the runaway train.

Now, the excitement begins, as the townsfolk rally together to prevent a tragedy.

The script is intelligent and well-written.

Astoundingly, for the first-time out, Mr. Bransom's directing is relatively seamless, too.

In fact, as the story unfolds, the audience is immediately swept up into the drama as it beautifully plays out on the wide adventure-filled screen.

In particular, I was impressed with the soundtrack, which buttressed a handful of the scenes when an emotional lift was oft needed.

Indeed, at times it appeared that at inspired moments during the course of the film, a chorus of Angels was serenading in the background.

Simply joyous!

For a couple of magical moments, I was transported back in time, when scenes of the young ones playing with toy trains in their grandpa's garage lit up the screen.

Understandably.


My Uncle Gordon (who resided on Nairn Street) set up a train set in his rustic attic, replete with a track that snaked through a make-believe town dotted with lakes & mountains that ran wild with animals.

As one character noted in the film:

"I've never known a boy to play with trains to turn out bad."

I guess that's true. Look at me!

Mr. Bransom has done alright for himself, too.

The film has won a handful of festival awards which include those garnered at the Backlot Film Festival, the Fairhope Film Festival, the Big Island Film Festival, and KIDS FIRST.

In fact, you may be able to catch a screening of the "Train Master" in this year's upcoming travelling KIDS FIRST Film Festival.

http://www.kidsfirst.org/filmfestival

Now in its ninth year, the Festival is a showcase for new and classic children's films, TV shows, and DVDs from studios, independent producers and youth producers.

The festival is a traveling year-round festival that partners with more than 100 venues nationwide and acts as their off-site curator.

Unique to the festival circuit, youths are given a true voice - as curators of the Festival, as panelists critiquing films at the festival, as volunteer staff, and as filmmakers and videographers showing their work.

One astute film enthusiast quipped:

"Celebrities & paparazzi have Sundance and Cannes, but kids & families have the KIDS FIRST Film Festival."

In 2007, almost one-third of the films accepted were from youth producers.

In spite of the odds, Mr. Bransom was one of the lucky adults to charm the tots with his own brand of engaging family entertainment.

Why not?

Train Master is a gem that will warm the cockles of your heart.





Director Phil Bransom pictured at center

Young@Heart...touching hilarious documentary inspires! Old-time choristers a hoot...







"Young@ Heart", a new documentary release will not only touch - but just maybe - bring a tear to your eye.

Soon-to-be released by Fox Searchlight, the novel offering is an up-close behind-the-scenes gander at a chorus of vocalists who tour to sold-out concerts around the Nation and abroad.

What sets 'em apart from other stage performers?

They're mostly an octogenarian bunch, for starters.

Unlike other entertainers pining for fame and glory on Tin Pan Alley,  the troupe is a tight-knit band of seniors - ranging in age from 72 and upwards - who crave the exhileration the joy of singing brings!

And, for a topper?

Forget about Bible-thumping hymns and sappy love songs; their repertoire consists of ballsy with-it pop ditties from the musical realms of top 40, rock 'n roll and even punk!

Yes, when the first scenes open, and the choristers belt out a lyric or two from a "Clash" cover, it jars the sensibilities, at first.

But, in moments, the audience is up, and enthralled by the whim of it all.

What a human interest story!

These choristers are darn good, I tell 'ya.

Their success is partly due to their insightful task master (Director Bob Colman) who pushes them to the limits with remarkable heart-warming results.

In fact, a lot of the footage is devoted to the weekly rehearsals - and a rip-roaring insightful zoom in on the engaging seniors - as they try to wrap themselves (and - in a couple of instances - sluggish grey matter) 'round tough tongue twisters and a musical sound that is light years from what they once waltzed to.

But, through the course of the documentary - as the filmgoer roots 'me on from the footlights - you just betcha, they nail 'em..

Some say that Beethoven and Bach - Mozart, too - composed musical compositions to heighten learning capability.

So, what is the attraction here?

"Well, it's good for the lungs," one elderly gent noted with a gleam in his eye.

Notwithstanding, the obvious benefits of the virtual act of vocalizing itself, clearly the rigorous schedules (challenging rehearsals, traveling on the road, gearing up for heart-pounding concert dates) have revved the folks up and - in the process -  bestowed a purposeful intent sure to add longevity.

Occasionally, the probing lens of the documentarian focuses on a couple of the individual chorus members; when it does, the results are often hilarious.

One old goat (forgive me for saying it, Sir!) noted that the reason he and his wife stayed together for 54 years was obvious.

"Because we kept romance in our lives. Twice a week we'd go out on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. She on Tuesday, me on Wednesday."

And, in a solemn tone, he underscored that the loving relationship lasted because it was based on faith and trust.

"Her faith in me and my lack of trust in her."

Hee-Haw!

But, there are touching moments in the film as well.

When the chorus performs for a handful of prisoners incarcerated at a local jail, the first up-beat number gets the guys hooting and laughing, and slapping each other on the back with mirth.

But, when the singers note there was a recent death in the group - and dedicate a song (Forever Young) to their lost band member - the mood noticeably changes.

The gang of burly tattooed thugs gets a little sullen, teary-eyed even.

In that one poignant moment it's evident the inmates are inclined to reflect on their plight, ponder mistakes they've possibly made, and wonder how it is that they've come to this way station in life.

The director has also included a couple of promotional clips of video montages which elicit a lot of whoops and hollers from the theatre-goers, too.

To the tune of "Stayin' Alive", a big hulk of a man strides through a bowling alley in a white suit, effecting a hip stylish swagger that John Travolta would be envious of.

Another beautifully-crafted segment - to the endearing strains of David Bowie's - "Golden Years" - is fun, heart-warming, and entertaining.

"Young@Heart" is top notch bill-of-fare bound to appeal to young and old alike.

Catch it, when it arrives at a theatre near you!

 CD available online




_________________
Footnote
When I first wrote this review, YOUNG@HEART   was not released yet.

I have reposted this article now that "Young" is taking the country by storm.

Inalienable...Walter Koenig script entertains, solid Sci-Fi Thriller!


The highlight of the Backlot Festival yesterday was undoubtedly the Sci-Fi thriller - "Inalienable" - starring Richard Hatch, Walter Kroenig, and Courtney Peldon.

In the opening scenes - which move along quickly to establish the basic plotline - the audience learns that the lead character (Hatch) is a research scientist who is still recovering from the loss of his wife and child a few years earlier.

When a friend stumbles on a curious specimen among the charred ruins of a meteor, he drops it off for the good doctor to examine; but, Hatch's character - Dr. Norse - is too busy and too sapped of energy to even humor him.

The duffel bag that contains the specimen is tossed aside as the scientist tucks into bed that night for some much-needed rest and relaxation.

The following day, the doctor suddenly feels ill, and is shocked to discover there appears to be a cyst festering in his side.

He turns to a doctor he trusts, who takes an extensive series of tests. Both are startled by x-ray chart results that suggest the unexplained growth may actually be a parasite feeding off Norse's life functions.

The prognosis?

If the growth is surgically removed the doctor may face instant death.

In a curious twist, the scientist ends up giving "birth" to an alien child.

But now, the complications escalate.

The Feds swarm in and place father and "child" in quarantine until the Government can make a determination as to what further action to take to ensure the American people are not in potential danger of alien attack.

The script by Walter Koenig (Star Trek) is tight and well-crafted and makes for an entertaining Sci-Fi thriller.

In particular, I found the courtroom scenes that focus on a myriad of legal fine points (Constitutional issues), and hypotheticals, intriguing and thought-provoking.

Mr. Koenig certainly knows how to stir up the pot.

Richard Hatch turns in a surprisingly believable performance, in spite of the unusual challenges he faces in this role. With dead earnest, and integrity, he acts out the scenario without cliché or melodrama.

The supporting cast rises to the occasion, too.

I particularly found the Judge who presided over the legal maneuverings amusing, bang on in her characterization (played by Judy Levitt); while Mr. Koenig carried off an admirable turn as a villain with aplomb.

"InAlienable is a work of love by all that were involved," Walter Koenig stated. "I'm extremely proud of our production team, cast and crew."

They should be - it’s a little gem.

Hillary Clinton..."Lust, Caution"; movie drags on!

Tango, anyone?


For someone who is hailed as a bright woman, Hillary Clinton doesn't appear to have a clue.

To some, she's like the party guest who overstayed her welcome, or the elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about.

Some, just wring their hands in despair, and pray she'll move on.

The ongoing battle with Barack Obama - which the news team at CNN is now labelling a "slugfest" - is hurting her each day she hangs on.

A case in point...

Many are worried the former first lady may thwart the Democratic party's play for the White House, if she doesn't make a quick exit soon. For good reason.

The sparring with Obama has turned off voters in such pandemic proportions, that the dog-fight may be the reason the undecided cast their ballot for John McCain this fall.

For sure, McCain's winning the battle at home, if not in Iraq. The old war horse must be sitting back gleefully - as the two prance around the National Stage - in what appears to be a bad segment of Fox's "Dancing with the Stars".

One Senior Senator - Patrick J. Leahy - was blunt; he urged Mrs. Clinton to abandon her presidential bid and cede to Barack Obama - especially in view of the fact that another Senator, Bob Casey of Pennsylvania, publicly announced his support for Barack Obama this past week.

But, Mrs. Clinton isn't ready to toss her pant suit into the ring just yet. That may be part of the problem. Some complain that she's got so much baggage, she can't fathom where to start packing.

Meanwhile, on the sidelines, her rivals snidely snicker that the fiasco is turning into a long drawn-out movie, of sorts.

Ole big ears was quick on the uptake, and inclined to respond with perfect aplomb,

"I like long movies."

Yeah, well this one should be titled, "Lust, Caution"; namely, Bill's lust, and Hillary's need to be cautious, as her political career starts to turns sideways and flip into oblivion.

Unfortunately, the catchy title is taken.

And, not even Ang Lee, could make it a smash at the box office.

Straight to video, for sure!

Extra Ordinary Barry...not!



Possibly, the worst movie of 2008.
Even the poster sucked.
Nuff said!

The Grand...not very! A stinker, at best.



Not even Woody Harrelson could save this stinker!
On a scale of 1 to 10?
Minus 4.
Don't waste your bucks!

Young@Heart...touching hilarious documentary that inspires! Elderly Choristers wow audiences...





"Young@Heart", a new documentary release will not only touch - but just maybe - bring a tear to your eye.

Soon-to-be released by Fox Searchlight, the novel doc is an up-close behind-the-scenes gander at a chorus of vocalists who tour to sold-out concerts around the Nation and abroad.

What sets 'em apart from other stage performers?

They're mostly an octogenarian bunch, for starters.

Unlike other entertainers pining for fame and glory on Tin Pan Alley, the troupe is a tight-knit band of seniors - ranging in age from 72 and upwards - who crave for the exhileration that the joy of singing delivers up!

And, for a topper?

Forget about Bible-thumping hymns and sappy love songs; their repertoire consists of ballsy with-it pop ditties from the musical realms of  top 40, rock 'n roll, and even punk!

Yes, when the first scenes open and the choristers belt out a lyric or two from a "Clash" cover, it jars the sensibilities at first.

But, withiin moments, the audience is revved up and enthralled by the whimsy of it all.

What a human interest story!

They're darn good, I tell 'ya.

Their succes is partly due to their insightful task master who pushes them to the limits with remarkable heart-warming results.

In fact, a lot of the footage is devoted to the weekly rehearsals - and a rip-roaring insightful zoom in on the engaging seniors - as they try to wrap themselves (and - in a couple of instances - sluggish grey matter) 'round tough tongue twisters and a musical sound that is light years from what they once waltzed to.

But, through the course of the documentary - as the filmgoer roots 'em on from the footlights - just betcha they nail 'em.

Some say that Beethoven and Bach - Mozart, too - composed musical compositions to heighten learning capability.

So, what is the attraction here?

"Well, it's good for the lungs," one elderly gent noted with a gleam in his eye.

Notwithstanding the obvious benefits of the virtual act of vocalizing itself - clearly the rigorous schedules (challenging rehearsals, traveling on the road, gearing up for heart-pounding concert dates) have not only reved the folks up -  but  bestowed a purposeful intent sure to add longevity.

Occasionally, the probing lens of the documentarian focuses on a couple of the individual chorus members; when it does, the results are often hilarious.

One old goat (forgive me for saying it, Sir!) noted that the reason he and his wife stayed together for 54 years was,

"Because we kept romance in our lives. Twice a week we'd go out on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. She on Tuesday, me on Wednesday."

And, in a solemn tone, he underscored that the loving relationship lasted because it was based on faith and trust.

"Her faith in me, and my lack of trust in her."

Hee-Haw!

But, there are touching moments in the film as well.

When the chorus performs for a handful of prisoners incarcerated at a local jail, the first up-beat number gets the guys hooting and laughing, and slapping each other on the back with mirth.

But, when the singers note there was a recent death in the group and dedicate a song (Forever Young)to their lost band member, the mood noticeably changes.

The gang of burly tattooed thugs get a little sullen, teary-eyed even.

In that one poignant moment it's evident the inmates are inclined to reflect on their plight, ponder mistakes they've possibly made, and wonder how it is that they've come to this way-station in life.

The director has also included a couple of promotional clips of video montages which elicit a lot of whoops and hollers from the theatre-goers, too.

To the tune of "Stayin' Alive" a big hulk of a man strides through a bowling alley in a white suit, effecting a hip stylish swagger that John Travolta would be envious of.

Another beautifully crafted segment - warbled to the endearing strains of David Bowie's - "Golden Years" - is fun, heart-warming, and entertaining.

"Young@Heart" is top notch entertainment bound to appeal to young and old alike.

Catch it, when it arrives at a theatre near you!

CD available online!

 


Never Back Down... testosterone-charged teen flick appeals to males 15-28!


The silver screen lit up and the first few scenes of the release - "Never Back Down" - sprang to life.

Suddenly, old memories flooded my thoughts and I was propelled back to the days of my youth.

I was thirteen and in the process of settling into a new school - making friends and catching up on my studies, that sort-of-thing - when a crisis loomed on the horizon.

A class bully started to pound on me daily in spite of the fact he was unprovoked.

For instance, at recess, the boy (Danny Bloomer was his name) would unexpectedly turn up out-of-the-blue - jab me in the gut or slap me viciously on the back of the head - then trot off leaving me bewildered and bruised.

Although Danny was a popular good-looking kid - clearly there was something twisted or mentally off - about the lad.

I tried to avoid a direct confrontation - and ultimately, a fight - but he'd always be at me egging me on for no good reason.

One day he poked me a little too roughly in the ribs.

Without warning - my right hand bunched up tightly into a fist - and shot forward and smacked him squarely in the face. He fell back in shock, collected himself, then stared back at me in amazement as I turned and strode off a little shaken.

Within the hour Danny was sporting a black eye and the halls were abuzz with the rumor that Bloomer was going to kick my butt when class let out at three that afternoon.

"Okay. I'll meet him after school," I assured his scruffy messengers who scurried off into the woodwork to spread the news.

By the end of the day the emotions were high and the excitement had built to a fever pitch as all the students at Regent Heights geared up for the "big fight".

When the school bell rang out at the end of the day and I stepped into the golden sunlight to face my plight, I found myself thrown headlong into an enthusiastic throng of supporters cheering me on.

But, Danny was nowhere in sight.

"He'll be here. Your a** is gonna' get whooped," his gang of rough-neck pals taunted from the sidelines.

Well, he didn't put in his pretty mug.

About fifteen minutes later, though, his father roared up the tree-lined street in his pick-up truck and skidded to a halt at the curb a few feet away.

In response to something he mumbled as he exited the vehicle, an excited junior pointed in my direction.

Then, Mr. Bloomer strolled over and looked me up and down incredulously.

"Are you the boy who gave Danny the black eye?"

"Yes, sir," I responded as audibly as I could.

"Why don't the two of 'ya be friends?"

"I didn't want to fight. Danny started it," I muttered with as much gusto as I could muster up.

His father shook his head a little and then suggested that I go on down to the house and shake hands with his son. He'd be waiting, he assured me.

At this juncture, I embarked on the short walk to his house to call the truce.

To my amazement, a mob of boisterous students tagged along behind, as I headed in that direction.

It was a bit awkward because Danny's house was just a few doors down from my own on the same street. I'd have to manipulate my way through the crowd and conceal my face somehow so my guardians wouldn't catch sight of the spectacle unfolding around me.

When we arrived at the weathered two-storey house, one of the boys dashed up the rickety stairs to the front door to summon Danny. A few moments later, he reluctantly stepped outside and awkwardly glanced in my direction.

I strolled right up and put out my hand. When he weakly grabbed at it, the kids in the neighborhood let out a loud cheer.

Gosh, it felt like I was in a scene in a Hollywood movie!


Which brings us back to the Summit feature film.

Jake, the main character in a quickie film that amounts to a piece of teen eye-candy, is forced to deal with the same troubling issue when he crosses paths with a bully the first day back in school.


As he hangs on the edge of indecision about the course of action to take, an unrelenting gang of unruly rebellious teens spur him on.

And, there is no turning back.


Torn between a conscience and a need to "stand up" against the gathering forces that menacingly swirl around (brute mentality, raging hormones, pent-up anger) the star athlete struggles to meet the challenge, and in the process, redefines himself.


At first glance - "Never Back Down" - is an obvious rip-off of the "Karate Kid".

Same plot, really.


New kid on the block gets hassled by a big bad bully - turns to a mentor for guidance (and ultimately) prevails in a knock-em-down drag-out-fight with self-esteem and integrity intact.

Yeah, he rides off into the sunset with the bodacious babe, to boot.



In stark contrast to Karate Kid, though - "Never" - is testosterone-charged, brimming with gutsy bravado, and is way over-the-top.

What do you expect when street-fighting and spilling your guts is exalted as a spectator sport?

Yeah - it's a nervy exploitative teen flick with mega doses of sensual visuals - rippling abs and virgin flesh, that sort-of-thing - crafted with scintillating MTV-style seducers sure to make it go box office boffo overnight.

The message - what there is of it - drowns in its wake.

One quip from Jake, says it all.

When his guru solemnly instructs him on the "Art" of breathing when engaged in fight-play, he smirks without batting a pretty eyelash,

"Is this the grasshopper speech?"

This piece of mindless fluff should be so lucky to have the wisdom of the sages descend on it.

Sleepwalking...a well-crafted Charlize Theron film!


When I exited the screening of "Sleepwalking", I overheard a theatre-goer question a friend.
"Well, did you like it?"

"No," she sighed. "It was too much of a downer".

True!

If you're lookin' for a feel-good movie with smart one-liners and a smash up or two - even a little taboo sexual innuendo tossed in - you'll have to focus your sights elsewhere.

For this family drama, Charlize Theron wore two hats; one as star, the other as producer of the project.

Although Theron turns in a fine performance as a troubled young mother facing personal demons, there aren't any insightful new revelations about her acting capabilities here, unfortunately.

In essence, her characterization is a facet of the same old same old.

On the other hand, with a deft hand at the helm of this modest quality movie (shot in Canada), Ms. Theron has clearly established she's one to reckon with on the production end.

There is no fat to trim, the casting is dead on, and the storytelling devices work admirably.

In a nutshell, "Sleepwalker" is a tale about a rebellious farm girl, forced to hit the road with her young brother, when she clashes with her father's puritanical ways and unrelenting work ethic.

As the film opens, the audience witnesses the main character's first dilemma, as she is turfed from her home on the heels of her boyfriend's arrest by old smoky after he's been caught cultivating marijuana.

Essentially, the drama focuses on her relationship with her young daughter, child services looming in the wings, and her sensitive brother who treads water on the sidelines until he is forced to swim forward to his niece's rescue at a critical arc in the film.

Sleepwalking is visually appealing, and graced with a well-written script, with bang-on believable dialogue.

The moviegoer can't help but be drawn in, so effective is the spinning of the yarn.

And, on occasion, the messages are fresh and revealing.

For example, in one key scene the brother breaks down, after years of pent-up emotion.

Here, the filmmakers appear to be underscoring a truth.

"Yes, even men have feelings, that cry out for expression."

And, when tears are shed on such an occasion, they are capable of healing, no matter the gender.

Acting kudos go to Nick Stahl in the role of the brother.

AnnaSophia Robb effectively digs under the skin as the daughter in a stand-out performance, as well.

Woody Harrelson takes a surprise turn as an offbeat character with an infectious sense of humor who elicits spontaneous gales of laughter from the audience.

As usual, Dennis Hopper rivets the moviegoer with his precise focus on details which add immeasurably to his menacing characterization.

In sum, "Sleepwalking" is an intimate film experience that touches, provokes thought - and ultimately - makes you ponder the human condition.

Dennis Hopper & AnnaSophia Robb sleepwalk...



Nick Stahl featured actor in Carnival...

Ms. Pettigrew...charming entertaining musical with great cast!

Ms. Pettigrew gets a leg up...


Ms. Pettigrew is an entertaining period piece which does not disappoint.

Set in London, just prior to the outbreak of World War II, the musical comedy is obviously an homage to the smart screwball comedies of yesteryear tailored for the likes of screen greats Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, and Spencer Tracy.

The film - adapted for the screen by David Magee and Simon Beaufoy (based on the 1938 Novel by Winifred Watson) - moves along at a fast clip, buttressed at times by catchy big band instrumentals which tend to get the foot tapping and elicit wide goofy smiles to the face.

Care to dance, anyone?

Frances McDormand (FARGO) turns in a delicious (yet poignant) multi-faceted performance which tugs at the heartstrings on occasion.

From the get-go, it is evident that the cast that buoys her up throughout the romantic comedy are seasoned pros, too. Without doubt, a handful of the talented thespians who parade across the screen sprang from a rigorous theatrical background on the stage.

It shows!

The pacing is good, and the comedic timing right on the money, as well.

The production values are both lavish and visually stunning; in part, due to all the exquisite details - from the Art Deco-inspired sets - to the scrumptious eye-catching fashions of the era.

In a nutshell, Ms. McDormand plays a down-on-her-luck governess desperate for a job.

Seizing upon a golden opportunity for gainful employment in an upper crust section of town, Ms. Pettigrew is suddenly thrust headlong into the intrigues of her new mistress - a scatterbrained Starlet - torn between the urge for love and the lure of a promising career.

It appears that the invisible hand of God is at work (Pettigrew is the daughter of a man of the cloth, after all) and that McDormand's character has found her true calling.

Her selfless acts of kindness not only set a handful of the dizzy characters on the right path, but effect a miraculous healing in the process.

In true Hollywood style, love's crush descends on Ms. Pettigrew, too.

To cynics, it is sheer fantasy.

To others, a dream worth pining for.


Two of Pettigrew's charges snared by Cupid's arrow...

10,000 B.C...lush images, limp plot, delights senses!


Hollywood threw up the street barriers and rolled out the thick red carpet at Mann's Chinese for a handful of power-players in Tinseltown who purred up to the curb in long sleek limos to take in the premiere of the Warner Brothers release 10,000 B.C.

The Hollywood strip was a biz of a zoo - what with all the excited tourists clicking away furiously at talented "Celebrity Impersonators" performing impromptu on the Hollywood "Walk of Fame" - and a long line of curious gawkers forming a line across the street for a taping of the Jimmy Kimmel Show.

So, the opening-night jitters of a handful of popular filmmakers stirred up the pot a bit.

In spite of the fact director Roland Emmerich rolled out a string of big ticket hits in recent years - "Godzilla", "Independence Day", "The Day After Tomorrow" - a negative pre-show buzz hinted that the new offering might fizzle at the box office once the word leaked out.

Shortly after the curtain fell - a large part of the under-thirty audience settled in - for what I thought was a bit of a celluloid disappointment.

The plot - what there was of it - was rather thin.

In the opening scenes a witch doctor has a "vision" about a prophecy which summarily comes to pass.

Before you can say - "plot twist" - a young woman with penetrating "blue eyes" (spoken of in a legend) is snatched up from their midst by a warring tribe from a land beyond the Great Mountain at the "eye of the snake".

Yeah, it's all pretty mysterious mystical stuff!

Our young hero - played by Steven Strait (no idea whether he is or not) - gathers up a handful of the tribe's best to track 'em with the ultimate aim of returning the woman with the soulful eyes to their village safe.

Along the way the savages encounter intriguing tribes of various stripes and persuasions in far-flung regions of the globe that have yet to be explored and mapped for future posterity.

During these entertaining segments, the popcorn crowd is riveted to their seats, as the myriad quirks and ancient rituals of these mysterious peoples unfold in captivating enthralling ways.

The cinematography is lush.

Subsequently, the images touch and hold the theatre-going public in their magical thrall, and are heightened by a stirring soundtrack at times reminiscent of one that resonated so hauntingly in the "The Gladiator".

Unfortunately, Mr. Strait looked like he was dropped into the prehistoric past straight out of suburbia, replete with muscled bod sculpted at Gold's Gym.

Unfortunately - he lacked the acting chops and basic prerequisite screen persona to carry the project - primitive or not

In contrast, the supporting players were fairly capable, and succeeded admirably in their characterizations where the lead player failed.

The special effects were DYNAMITE!

10,000 B.C. is really much ado about nothing - but fun, nonetheless - to journey along for the ride with the Encino Man.

Penelope...Reese Witherspoon release, resonates on deeper level!


Well, I dickered about posting on "Penelope" - the new release from Summit - which premiered last night at the Landmark Theatre in West Los Angeles.

On the surface, the idea is offensive.

A baby girl is born with a "pig face" arising from an age-old curse.

In an intriguing scenario, stringent conditions must be met by a descendant of the bloodline before the spell can be lifted.

For the most part, the feature tends to focus on the shame of the stigma that has been thrust upon the well-positioned upper crust family in the community at large.

In this sort-of - "black comedy" - the producers have devoted an inordinate amount of screen footage beholden to the bold-faced efforts of the parents to shield - hide? - their sensitive daughter from the prying eyes of a society they perceive as cruel and heartless.

Tasteless piggy jokes abound amid a round of endless off-the-wall sight gags - which, at times - repulse. Although the better judgment of the audience tends to lean on the side of caution with regard to such repugnant material - at times, the theatre-goer can't help but emit a jittery giggle or loud guffaw - such is the power of the story-telling devices here which compel a reaction.

The tale tends to be - quite simply - superficial, silly, and earnestly off-beat. In a nutshell, Penelope is a commercially-focused Hollywood piece of crap.

It appears that on a basic level, the filmmakers are not only "pooh-poohing" the exaltation of physical beauty by sentient beings in the civilized classes - but, in particular - are pointing the finger at those unsavory few who pine for it ad nauseam in our decidedly hedonistic society.

The tale of "Penelope" - albeit here, slightly twisted - is rooted in Ancient Lore.

In fact, in Homer's - Odyssey - Penélopê was the faithful wife of Odysseus who kept her suitors at bay in his long absence until she is rejoined with him at last. The name has been associated with faithfulness; so clearly, Summit's production is a facet lethally-laced with poetic license.

On a more insightful second glance, "Penelope" is essentially a cautionary tale with an underlying notion that resonates: peer beyond the surface, don't second guess people, and - most importantly - be faithful to and accept yourself.

The truth will set you free.


The Vatican Penelope
A Roman marble copy of an Early Classical 6th-century Greek sculpture.

Moscow Chill...entertaining low-budget film! Norman Reedus charms!


As far as low-budget films go - "Moscow Chill" - is a stunner.

Hollywood should sit up and take notice.

For a cool million, the producers have turned out a delightful little popcorn movie.

A lot of the credit goes to the charismatic young lead actor, Norman Reedus (co-star American Gangster).

But, there are three stars in the film - shot in Russia - Reedus, the cinematographer, and a circus bear.

At a Q & A in Beverly Hills - director Chris Solimine held the audience in his thrall - with a couple of hilarious production tidbits.

For example, he laughingly recalled that when the circus bear first signed on the dotted line, the wranglers assured the crew that "Misha" would behave.

For good measure, they were promised a security detail would be on hand, to ensure a smooth lensing of the scenes without mishap.

"Empty promises. They lied," blurted out the good-hearted auteur.

In fact, one day the bear escaped from the cage and trotted down an old country road, with distressed crew members in hot pursuit.

The end result?

There were a few costly shooting delays and a migraine headache or two to boot.

To make matters worse, Mr. Solimine was bitten by a dog (featured in the film); subsequently, the filmmaker was in constant fear he'd wake up one fine morning with a nasty bout of rabies and foaming at the mouth.

Lead actor - Reedus - did not manage to stay out of harm's way either.

One wild and crazy night - when he sauntered out on-the-town to take in some local color - he got more than he bargained for, too.

After a gang of corrupt police officers caught Reedus pi**ing in the street - they proceeded to "toss him" in a Datsun - and relieve him of the meager twelve bucks in his wallet.

"It was worth it. 'Cause, I filmed the whole thing on my cell," he chortled to amused theatre-goers out to support the film.

Heh, has that precious footage ever been aired on YouTube?

Perhaps the funniest incident occurred when the prop master was forced to admit a gun to be used in a key scene was not brought to the location that day.

When the production teamed approached an on-duty police officer about offering up his firearm as a substitute to bag the shot - an official started to argue point-blank that it was illegal for a Russian to surrender his gun.

A fellow officer standing nearby - shrugged - and handed over his gun without any qualms.

Yup, it appears that folks are enamored of the movie biz in Russia, too.

In fact, "Moscow Chill" was financed by the Russian Government.

No doubt - they'll realize a tidy return on the savvy investment - Studio Moguls willing!

If so, it was not without some sweat and tears, though.

After all - post-production was a real b**** - according to Solimine.

On the heels of the nightmare, he had words of advice for young filmmakers, too.

"Never shoot a scene with four smokers. The shot is not only difficult to match, but negatively impacts the lighting," he warned the rapt audience.

When asked how the project came into fruition, he noted that the original script was slated for a big-budget release. But - as it wallowed in pre-production blues - the first handlers grew weary.

Film 101 stuff, eh?

When Solomine got on board, he thought a creative avenue of thought, might nudge the production forward, to green light status.

Can you make it less commercial, he queried the DP.

"I'll make it so no one comes to see it," he cackled in response.

Well, it's doubtful that will be the film's demise; after all, the cinematography is worth the price of admission, alone.

In fact, the scenes are breathtaking.

Each frame is artfully painted with a lush palette; at times rich - but gritty and down 'n dirty - when it needed to be.

There was a lot of thoughtful attention to visual detail which impressed me thoroughly, too.

And, I am a tough critic!

The set-ups were outstanding. No pedestrian shots here.

In fact, I was constantly amazed at their variety, as scenes flowed from one to the next seamlessly.

Solomine has a keen eye, is quite talented, and shows a lot of potential ripe with possibilities.

Also, Norman Reedus gave a stand-out performance.

Tough - yet vulnerable, at times - his characterization resonated in every fiber of his being.

Indeed, he has a captivating screen presence, waiting to bust out.

This kid is going places!

The plot for "Moscow Chill" is charming and believable, too.

An altruistic computer whiz uncovers the tale of Prometheus.

According to legend, the Titan - known for his wily intelligence (who stole fire from Zeus) - gave the precious gift to mortals for their daily use.

On the heels of this history lesson, the lad decides to become a modern-day version of the Ancient Greek. But, chooses a path along the lines of the Robin Hood character, who stole from the rich and gave to the poor.

In the side-splitting scene opening scene - we first encounter the naive lad manipulating keys on a computer in the back of a taxi - which causes scads of bills to fly out this way 'n that from local ATM machines around the city.

Startled passers-by - who can not believe their good fortune - rush in to snatch up the ubiquitous cash no questions asked.

Unfortunately, the Reedus character gets caught.

However - his unique skills do not escape the attention of a master criminal overseas - who hatches a plot to rescue the fresh felon with the express intention of corralling his hacking skills.

In a nutshell, he's contracted to run an embezzlement scam on a grand scale.

But, there is a lot of mayhem along the way!

Although Moscow Chill is not earth-shattering or original in concept - the independent feature does have a heart - which beats to a different drummer.

However, the film is flawed.

The script itself is a tad loose and needs to be tighter.

I expect that some judicious editing may resolve that problem if the producers are capable of standing back and giving "Moscow Chill" a realistic once-over with a discriminating eye.

There are a couple of minor production snafus, as well

In one key scene - there appeared to be some powder or chalk on the shoulder of one of the lead players - which was also distracting.

Where the heck was wardrobe?

In a turn-around shot - the offensive blotch - was nowhere to be seen.

Continuity, folks!

I giggled when I noticed a subtitle error, too.

In one prison shot, a guard makes a curious announcement over the loud speaker.

"Prisoners return to their cells."

Well - since he was addressing the prisoners directly - the commands should have read "to your cells" instead.

Picky, I know.

But if a filmmaker wants to go "Hollywood" - and play in the big leagues - he's got to get it right.

There is no distributor yet, but I expect Solomine will land one in the near future.

Until then, rely on bootleg copies, selling straight from the streets of Moscow.

Or, tune in to Moscow TV via satellite, where the little flawed gem has been broadcasting in the local market in recent months.


Theatre-goer recalled Reedus in earlier film...

Chicago 10...documentary distorts truth. Just the facts, man!


Were the protests at the 1968 Political convention headed up by a band of Yippies symbolic of the conflicts of values that characterized the late sixties?

In Chicago 10, a film screened at the California Plaza recently, a rapt audience watched in awe and disgust as the documentary of the alleged events of the 1968 Political Convention in Chicago, unfolded on the screen.

Adeptly facilitating an ambitious mix of CGI animation and archival footage, Director Brett Morgan chronicled the events surrounding the incident where protesters denied permits to demonstrate, repeatedly clashed with police, and the most vocal perpetrators - Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, and others - were prosecuted eight months after the melee, pursuant to the Anti-riot Act.

The documentary has been being billed as a parable of hope, courage, and ultimate victory.

It is far from that.

Actually, it's a cautionary tale about clashing wills, human error, and blind ambition - all rolled into one.

True, some of the images are shocking - close-up shots of cops beating on peaceful demonstrators - definitely not for the squeamish.

As the character in the film - "Cool Hand Luke" - said, "What we have here is a failure to communicate".

There were a number of glaring mistakes made on both sides.

For instance, the City of Chicago should have granted the permits; after all, denying peaceable assembly in the U.S. is un-American.

But the Chicago 8 and their merry band of followers erred too; the hapless protesters should have vacated the park at 11 p.m., and postponed the event, until the proper permits were secured from the city.

Although everyone was rooting for Hoffman - myself included - it was painfully obvious from the footage that he and Rubin acted immaturely, stupidly.

What adult or teenager is not painfully aware of the consequence of disrupting a courtroom?

None of their antics in his Honor's presence or the judicial environs contributed to the cause at all.

Yes, the Judge acted outrageously. But a complaint to the Commission on Judicial Performance, or a petition for removal from the bench - even a request for change of venue - may have been the right way to go.

Yes, Judge Hoffman (no relation to Abbie) erred, too.

Instead of denying Bobby Seale (Co-Chair of the Black Panther Party) his right to represent himself without explanation - the court would have been wiser to have followed one of two courses of action: either warn Seale about the perils of self-representation, then permitted the defendant to proceed if he elected to do so, or - taken the matter under submission, written up a legitimate ruling, citing the valid points of law, then duly noted for the record that Seale was entitled to appeal the ruling in the proper forum.

Instead, we witnessed Seale being gagged and bound to his chair after his wild, disruptive protests about rights' violations aggravated the Judge...probably one of the most shocking and blackest moments in American History.

There were a number of humorous moments in the film, too.

For instance, Allen Ginsberg appeared on the witness stand and was asked by a prosecuting attorney to explain his use of a word referred to as "um" which he used to relieve tension.

Later in the film, when the demonstrators were facing a tense situation in the march, Ginsberg is seen emoting "um" into a loudspeaker - which was hilarious.

Anyone practicing Buddhism or Yoga will confirm that the sound of "om" should be a joyous sound, one that connects with the inaudible life stream; in this instant case, it was more like an off-key drone from an old test pattern on a fifties-style black and white TV.

One viewer thought the documentary was "too gimmicky".

For example, the director used CGI animation to depict the courtroom scenes.

The effect, in my estimation, was very effective for one reason: it suggested the drama unfolding in the courtroom was cartoon-like, unreal - compared to the brute reality of the archival footage of the street - where heads were being cracked and bodies were being dragged into paddy wagons.

Another moviegoer pointed out that there were two events, actually.

First, there were the demonstrations at the 1968 Political Convention, then eight months later, the trial of the Chicago 8.

The way the footage was edited, reality was blurred - which poses the question - was this a clever manipulation by the director?

In fact, when a woman asked in the Q & A what his response was to claims that his movie was "agitprop", for the first time he squirmed in his chair, was at a loss for words, and struggled to respond.

As a character recently said in the movie "The Year of the Dog" - “guilty".

My Art Professor told me once that when you view a work of art - be it a painting, or a film - that you must first step back and determine first what it was that "washed over" you.

In this instant case, the director used his editorial control, and seductive images, to manipulate history.

Just the facts, man.

Please Note:
This review was written several months ago before the producers secured distribution. I have re-posted the item in view of the fact wide-screen release is slated for Friday, February 29th, 2008.

Beowulf...airbrushed butts and chiselled abs. Adult humor!



Generally, I am not inclined to take in big budget full-length animated features. After three invites to attend a preview of Beowulf over the past few weeks, I finally succumbed.

Essentially, the story is a mythical tale about a King and his subjects in a far-away land, plagued by a monster that terrorizes their quaint mountain village. Beowulf sails into harbor all brawn and guts to purge the tiny Kingdom of the menace because it is his want to do so.

After the beast is destroyed, the mother - a seductress with great mystical powers - tempts the mighty hero with gifts of everlasting life; before any filmgoer in the theatre can whisper - "sold his soul to the devil" - a pact is struck between the two and kept secret from the proud villagers who hail him as a conquering Hero!

The moment the King (played by Anthony Hopkins) lumbers onto the silver screen, the filmmakers hold the audience in their thrall by virtue of the stunning special effects conjured up by the state-of-the art CG imagery.

The concept of live action reference footage providing the skeleton upon which animators build the characters performance is nothing new, according to animation historian Leonard Maltin.

"The first real motion caption occurred when Dave Fleischer put on a clown suit and his brother Max traced his movements one frame at a time in 1915. They patented the device that enabled them to do this and call it rotoscope."

Many of the scenes are hilarious. For example, when the slovenly Monarch slips off his throne to strut and stroke his subjects with thoughtful musings, filmgoers snicker at the smartly theatrical articulated gestures - and wildly chortle- as they witness rolls of fat rise and fall at his waist or catch sight of his whimsical features contorting in odd intriguing ways. In fact, at times the actor's face appears to poke through the exterior features in a liquid jello of sorts.

"The data that drives the face looks like a flapping puppet," the animator notes, "it won't record volume, meaning if the actor squints or purses his lips, it tells you when they did it, but it won't tell you how much they actually moved."

In contrast, the bodies are carved out to perfection depending on plotline twists.

For instance, when Beowulf announces his intention to tackle the task of downing the monster, he notes he'll undertake the challenge naked. After all, the demon has no clothes on, either.

In a flash, he strips off his outer garments at the torso to reveal a buffed bod with fabulous pecs and chiseled abs. Then, in a cat 'n mouse moment, he teasingly half-turns and slips off his trousers to reveal a tight attractive butt which appears to have been "airbrushed" to perfection.

Heh, I yearn for an a** that looks like that!

But, Beowulf's precious manhood remains out of view.

In fact, the filmmakers taunt the filmgoers on occasion.

For instance, after a lout hurls a sword and the razor-sharp tip lands upright in a sturdy oak table - Beowulf strides towards it - the blade subliminally-suggesting the width and breadth of the warrior's steely-hard ****. The audience roars!

In another scene there is a gasp from the audience when Angelina Jolie's character sensually rises up from a calm pool of water to reveal full luscious breasts and an awesome breathtaking nubile frame.

In fact, Ms. Jolie remarked to the press on the heels of the sensation she caused, "I had no idea the imagery would be so real."

Essentially, the film is a piece of eye-catching fluff.

But, there are a couple of morals to the intriguing tale, nonetheless.

For one, a stiff d*** has no conscience.

Two, myths are made of just that, myth...

August Rush...family movie entertains! Freddie Highmore captivating...



August Rush is an enchanting upbeat tale about a young boy who is separated from his parents at birth and his arduous search to be reunited with them.

The opening scene is a stunner.

The young lad stands in a cornfield captivated by the sighs and whispers of the wind as it rustles gloriously through the reeds all around him.

The filmmakers quickly establish that the boy has a sixth sense when it comes to sound (no doubt) inherited by virtue of the fact both his parents are musical geniuses.

In a moment of crisis, he flees from an orphanage, only to find himself stumbling along the dirty mean streets of the big bad city with no particular place to go.

Suddenly, in a flash of inspiration, he bolts up onto a concrete cinder block and begins to orchestrate the harsh incongruous sounds of the city's bustle - blaring car horns, the jarring smacks of a rusty jackhammer, the disgruntled wheezings of an old dumptruck lumbering by - into a captivating new-age symphony that resonates with amazing grace and integrity.

The celluloid moment is an inspiring, touching one, that elevates!

Within a few hours, the boy-wonder strikes up a friendship with a street-wise musician; then, with the boy's jazzy guitar in hand, explores his marvelous creative gift for the first time in a controlled musical environment.

To the wonder of passers-by, the sounds he conjures up are not only lively and toe-tapping, but remarkably distinctive.

When he journies back to a run-down building with his new-found friend - he encounters an edgy street type (Robin Williams) - who hastens to take the musical whiz under his wing.


The man not only understands the gift, but astutely perceives a rare talent he can tap into for ready cash and instant fame, if nurtured right.



With great gusto, he crowns the young urchin with a catchy stage name.

August Rush.

In one of few tender moments between the two - the Williams' character enchants the lad with lofty ideas about the mysterious "hum of the universe" (an angelic sound) he alleges emanates from the galactic heavens - capable of touching and invoking magical possiblities given the chance.

When August is mistreated by the seasoned pro, he bolts.

At a church shelter, an introduction to the organ, uncovers his God-given gift.

"Yes, he's a child prodigy," the Minister enthuses!

Of course, it's evident at this juncture that the screenwriters of "August Rush" have lifted some ideas from other sources.

For example - the "hum" of the Universe is the "innaudible life stream" that mystics in the east have turned a captive ear to for centuries, the Williams' character is straight out of "Dickens", and the prodigy angle - well, it smacks of Amadeus - yes, Mozart.

Here, the snatches of each are revamped cleverly.

In fact, each idea has been woven into the fabric of a spell-binding magical tale, that uplifts.

But, is not immune from the tendency to get a bit mushy and sentimental, at times.

Freddie Highmore (August Rush) is outstanding in the role; each magical moment on screen resonates in a truthful honest way that warms the heart.


Jonathan Rhys Meyers is okay as Louis - but clearly - has wasted his talent on an emotional piece of pap for a stab at mainstream roles.

Keri Russell inhabits the role of the Mother a little too steadfastly, though; her performance - while engaging for the most part - tends to strain a little at the edges to her disadvantage.

For those who lean towards - optimism, hold true to the concepts of synchronicity, and romanticize that destinies are often fulfilled according to a cosmic plan - August Rush will not disappoint.

By the way, take a box of tissues.

Yes, at times, the musical is a tear-jerker to reckon with.

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