Reviews

If viewers are expecting a factual summary of Saddam Hussein's life, they will be disappointed. I'm sure there are better documentaries on the subject. But for pure casting pleasure, I would heartily recommend HoS. Director Jim O'Hanlon has assembled a truly international cast, including celebrated Iranian actress Shohreh Aghdashloo (so marvelous in "House of Sand & Fog"), Indian actress Shivani Ghai, and Palestinian actor Makram Khoury (great as Tariq Aziz).

Most impressive is celebrated actor Yigal Naor as Saddam. He exudes the perfect combination of ruthlessness and charm that propelled the tyrant into power. That Hussein is portrayed by a Jew-- and Israeli-born Jew-- is probably sending the old goat into cartwheels. Pure poetic justice!

"The Producers" (1968) is easily one of the funniest movies of all time, with fans as loyal as Al Queda fanatics. Mel Brooks, never one to pass up a bawdy joke or politically incorrect remark, wove an insanely brilliant screenplay that lampooned the obsessions of the era.

Though his Broadway play was a monster of a hit, it was a paler version of the original. Not one to give up on a good thing, Brooks has now cloned his baby one too many times. A lot can fly under the radar in a live performance-- the audience is sharing a collective vibe. But film is literal and unforgiving. Why ape the original, when you can buy a priceless DVD?

Let's say a little something about Zero Mostel, rumored to be one of the angriest and most brutal actors who ever lived. That turbulent performance is what gave "The Producers" (1968) its stunning audacity. Likewise, Gene Wilder's real-life neurotic obsessions translate beautifully on screen. Together, they were like nitro and glycerin.

Good freaking luck to anyone who tries to re"produce" that kind of chemistry!

Nobody loves a good show tune more than I do. I'm perfectly at home with the tradition of seemingly normal adults bursting into song. Yet, despite my anticipation, I watched this film with impervious detachment, much like having a tooth extracted under local anesthetic.

Columbus has cleaned up "Rent" for the mass-consumer audience. The set design is a candy-coated version of itself-- New York via Disneyworld. Likewise, the characters have no food or heat, but every hair is in place, every costume custom-fitted. Even heroin and AIDS are pristine, until the very end.

Columbus has sanitized the musical score as well. While "Rent" has a couple of lovely ballads, the endless parade of songs, beefed up with a cheesy "Rock" orchestra, tend to grate on the nerves.

I deeply admire Columbus's decision to cast most of the original Broadway ensemble-- too bad the film wasn't made ten years ago. These actors, most of whom are pushing pushing forty, simply cannot portray struggling artists in their teens or twenties-- at least not on screen. Rosario Dawson is a lovely addition, but she is no 19 year-old.

The director should have taken a page from Marshall's "Chicago" (2002) and staged more songs on stage, as he did the opening number, "Seasons of Love". Ironically, it is only in the mystique of their theatrical environment that these characters truly come alive.

Despite the absence of color here, there is nothing black and white about a Coen Brothers film. They always manage to deconstruct traditional film genres and turn them on their heads, while they mess with ours in the process. "The Man Who Wasn't There" is a master class in film noir technique, for a hip, post-modern generation who missed the originals.

Billy Bob Thorton stars as Ed Crane, a brooding, somnabulant, nebbish of a barber, who suddenly springs to life, like a cobra out of a box. Thornton, a wildly uneven actor, earns his acting props as he channels the great Montgomery Clift, brush cut and all.

Frances McDormand plays Doris, Ed's heartbreaker of a wife, who wants nothing more than a little spice in her humdrum life. Gandolfini gleefully hams it up as her lover, 'Big Dave'. The supporting cast, mostly the Coens' usual suspects, are uniformly great. Watch for Scarlett Johansson as a piano-playing Lolita.

The overall look of the film is absolutely stunning, with cinematography to die for.

Pun intended.

I wasn't expecting Shakespeare, though he wrote the best drag comedies on record. I wasn't even expecting "Some Like it Hot", though I'm sure poor Mr. Wilder is whirling in his grave... Hell, all I wanted were a few easy laughs in the middle of the week.

"Carla and Connie" roused not even a smirk-- and I wasn't alone. Let's put it this way; there were cheerier audiences at the Nuremburg Trials.

Did somebody say, "well written"? Big "Gilligan's Island" fan, are we? The dialog was so wooden and so stagy that I fear Ms. Vardalos has hung around one too many dinner theaters. Dinner theaters that serve Spam.

My deepest fear is that this film will be embraced by the kind of lunatics who feed on crude and outlandish gay stereotypes. And NO, I am not gay-- but I'm flattered you asked!

Those looking for some relief from mindless summertime blockbusters, will surely appreciate Arcand's Barbarian Invasions.

Though the film begins as an over-the-top sex farce, between Remy and his numerous mistresses, it soon settles into a deeply moving, poetic experience. Some may wonder why Remi's ex-wife and son (Stephane Rousseau, in particular, is a revelation)would choose to forgive this philanderer. The reason is, of course, because they must. There is no hatred here-- only profound sadness for missed opportunities. In gathering precious remnants of his life for him, they find solace in their own. In the end, parents and children, lovers, and friends, are strengthened by their bond with this man.

Arcand avoids banality by weaving an abrasive social commentary into the fabric of his story. His withering indictment of Quebec's medicare system is worth the price of admission alone.