Once upon a time, in the galaxy far, far away, there was the Australian television network landscape of my boyhood. Hard to believe now, this consisted of a mighty four selections; three commercial networks and the government one. In these pre-cable, let alone pre-internet, days, those networks showed movies. A lot of movies. And movies spanning all decades and many continents. In fact, the television landscape of my boyhood, as seemingly limited as it was, was a great film school.
By the time Corey Feldman writes, in chapter 14 of his memoir Coreyography, “He was the only person in my immediate circle who wasn’t molesting me,” he’s already dished enough tawdry shenanigans among the young Hollywood set, and those who exploited them, to gain your trust. He’s telling the truth and he’s not holding back. Eminently, incessantly readable – indeed, compulsively readable, and digestible in one sitting if you’ve got the stomach – Feldman’s memoir has enough drug abuse, child molestation, and general sleaze for a month of miniseries.
Although it was released throughout much of the rest of the world mid-2013, and won’t be released in the US until April 4th, Time Warner Cable is currently offering – and promoting heavily – Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge (re-named from Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa) on VOD, presumably to cash in on Philomena’s massive surprise sweep at the Oscars. Alan Partridge is nothing like Philomena.
Über-prolific Brit’s Brit Mark Gatiss would be an international treasure if only for his writing and acting on Sherlock, let alone for such gems as his History of Horror three-part masterpiece (check it out!). But unfortunately, despite his heart almost certainly being in the right place, Gatiss – perhaps out of sheer lack of hours in the day – has turned in, and thus caused to be filmed, a wretched script in An Adventure in Space and Time, a brilliant idea terribly executed.
You get a lot of movie for your 16 bucks with The Wolf of Wall Street, but you’d have a better time if you got less movie. It’s two hours and 59 minutes, which sounds like director Martin Scorcese said to Paramount, “You don’t want a three hour movie? I haven’t given you a three hour movie!”
If your favourite Coen Bros. flick is The Big Lebowski, True Grit or No Country For Old Men, there’s no guarantee that the new one, Inside Llewyn Davis, is going to be up your alley. But if you thought A Serious Man was funny as shit (it was), pissed yourself at O Brother Where Art Thou?, and basically had a haemorrhage the first time you saw Raising Arizona, you’ll love Davis, which is really funny while also bringing the Art.
Amy Adams is hot. If you don’t believe me see American Hustle. In fact, see it anyway. See it no matter what. It’s awesome.
Whatever your feelings on the imprisonment and exploitation of sea mammals for profit – ambivalence, acceptance, unease or indignation – the sober, level-headed and extremely well-constructed documentary Blackfish is sure to open your eyes a little wider, introduce you to some aspects of the industry that you didn’t know, and perhaps, if you’re of the ambivalent or accepting camps, change your point of view. I’m in the indignant camp and it still taught me an awful lot about this dispicable industry.
A foolhardy concept from its very inception, Diana, which imagines the relationship, in the last three years of her life, between Diana, Princess of Wales, and heart surgeon Hasnat Khan (Naveen Andrews) is chock full of dialogue that no actor can possibly make work. If we are to believe this film, Diana and Hasnat’s early courtship, held essentially in secret at Kensington Palace, was composed of her making gags about the bounty of royalty (asked if she has any more wine, she replies “This is a Palace – we don’t run out of anything”), while he parried with poetic quotes and ludicrous, high-faultin’ babble (on surgery: “You don’t perform the operation – the operation performs you”).