Sachs’ love triangle a la Sundance is just more art house malarkey deemed important and groundbreaking, when it’s more soapy melodramatic fodder with a dull plot and a lackluster series of performances. I was severely disappointed as I was looking forward to “Forty Shades of Blue.” Mainly because the film looked to be an interesting take on the love triangle set to a life of a woman won by a man with a brutal ego.
I hate country music. In all of its forms. I think it’s a pro-conservative, right wing, antiquated form of music best suited for run down bars, filled with whiny, bitching, moaning, chaw chewing, cow poking “stars” who have no idea what good writing is (“Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue” is proof positive), and is a genre so disgusted with itself it’s lost touch with its roots and instead has turned into another form of adult contemporary pop. That being said I like the Dixie Chicks. Not because of their music, granted, they have great voices, but because one day in a concert, they decided to exercise their freedom of speech and tell their fans what they thought of our government. And the fans, the red state hicks they are, hated that, and turned on them.
Rob Schneider, David Spade, I want you to get down on all fours and thank the stars you know Adam Sandler. Thank Sandler. Build an altar to him and thank him for helping your mere shreds you call careers. Where would you be without that douche bag? Nowhere and you know it. How else can you explain your cameos in “Grandma’s Boy,” an otherwise glorified custom made vehicle for all of Sandler’s pals? “Grandma’s Boy” is a vain film. Vain in the assumption that through endless sex jokes, and weed induced sight gags, that it’s making a commentary about ageism. Really, it’s nothing but a veil thrown over it to add a thin sense of non-existent intelligence.
When you can create a film under $7,000 dollars and end up with a pretty esoteric and elaborate science fiction film, that’s quite an achievement. “Primer” was a very low budget film that managed to achieve considerable critical acclaim, as well as respectable grosses, and it’s a film many have deemed difficult to watch. Which is a complaint that’s with merit. “Primer” is an often confusing film about a group of men attempting to build a machine. But what makes it such an entertaining and rather engrossing bit of independent cinema, is the dialogue. And Shane Carruth’s dialogue will suck you in because the characters are so natural.
Hey Hollywood, it’s me Felix. You don’t know me, and possibly don’t care, but have you ever bothered to look up the word comedy in the dictionary? While you’re out there making “Epic Movie,” and “Dance Movie,” and anything else that involves fart jokes, there are people out there making honestly good comedies with a budget of a little over a hundred bucks. And you know what? They’re funnier than anything you can shit out in your room of Yes men, and monkeys on typewriters. Take for example, the nut jobs at Bullcrank. I’m a fan. Yes, I admit it, and yes, they’re kind folk, but I laughed more in “Zombies in My Neighborhood,” and “Batman’s Gonna Get Shot…” than in any piece of crap you have ever come up with.
Around the time of the attacks of September 11th 2001, America was at its all time high of security, ignorance, idiocy, anger, hatred, sadness, etc. But most importantly, filmmakers were compelled to express their sheer rush of emotions responding to this attack. Some gave us patriotic films, some paid homage to that day, and others preferred to examine more original views. Director Siddiq Barmak instead gives us an inside look at the practices and cruelty of the Taliban, and a society paralyzed under the control of the Taliban.
At some point, within the tirade of racial jokes Silverman willingly passes, and within the admissions of peeing in her bed, and having unusual body hair, you have to wonder. If she was an ugly utterly huge woman, would we be okay with this? If a heavy woman went on stage and said “I pooed a little,” would we still laugh? It just seems that just because Sarah Silverman is basically good looking, it’s okay to say this stuff, and get out of jail free because—well, she’s hot. And in some way, she seems to know this, and that’s why instead of groaning, the audience simply laughs. I like Sarah Silverman. She’s funny, quick with the put downs, and is very pretty, but “Jesus is Magic” is an uneven balance of skits, musical numbers and stand up comedy, neither of which as uproarious as I would have wished and hoped for.