It's September, the month when Hollywood lets out a 30-day yawn. Denzel Washington's action thriller The Equalizer is probably the largest studio release this month, but you wouldn't know it to look at its posters: a series of eight one-sheets that feature Denzel Washington, your dad's clothes, a gun and no excitement whatsoever. Can it hurry up and be Halloween soon please?
At one point during Before I Go to Sleep, I convinced myself that I too had anterograde amnesia; like Nicole Kidman's character Christine, sometimes my mind would wipe the previous day's events from my brain. However, I quickly realised the link between my memory loss and how many whisky cocktails I'd consumed the night before (hashtag legend) and so, panic over. Much like a whisky-induced hangover though, Before I Go to Sleep will also make you struggle to fill in the blanks with an increasing sense of dread. Hopefully with a bit less sick.
"Nobody understands the cloud!" hisses Jason Segel. "It's a fucking mystery!" Prescient words, given recent events; with a plot regarding a mislaid dirty video, Sex Tape is uniquely positioned to capitalise on the most scandalous celebrity leak in history, but it's a shame the movie is too busy blowing smoke up Apple's rear port to make any sort of meaningful comment on the testy relationship between intimacy and technology.
Not sure what's more offensive here: 1) The quite improbable pose in which the giant woman is falling down the stairs, 2) The quite implausible architecture of the world's most poorly designed house, or 3) The quite impossible shitness with which the poster has been copied and pasted from the original. Also, for the tagline, see...
Have you ever had your enjoyment of a film completely derailed by a small, insignificant part of that movie? A niggle that becomes a bother than becomes all you can think about? I had that with possession thriller Deliver Us From Evil, a competent, forgettable horror flick from the guy who made Sinister. It's a fairly enjoyable movie, if a little flat and unambitious, but in terms of possession movies starring C-list actors with bad scripts, it's par for the course. Except for one thing. A single sound effect. Which ruins the entire movie.
If you are a hipster, then you are welcome here. This website is a broad church and no one is turned away. But know this: I do not understand you. Be you Williamsburg or Shoreditch, you are an alien to me, as are all your kind. Aren't your trousers uncomfortable? Aren't jam jars massively difficult to drink out of? Do you have to eat loads of jam just to get the jars? And yet you are a significant enough cultural phenomenon that you bear documentation through film and television, which is more than you can say for me.
On a rainy August night, I was subjected to an odd and unusual experiment. In the name of science, I was strapped to a heart monitor and readings were taken of my body's response to As Above, So Below to determine how many calories I would burn watching a horror film. Unaware that I'm a complete badass and scared of nothing, the foolish scientists were in for a shock – it was clear to me that I would completely skew their results with my super-human powers (I recently ran 2k on a treadmill without stopping). However when the film finished, the results disturbed us both...
I recently had reason to look at Vinnie Jones' IMDB page. I forget why now, because my brain has been dazzled by the sheer number of projects he currently has in the works. Brother be almost as busy as Eric Roberts.
The movies' use of sports as a metaphor for personal growth far outstrips the idea's efficacy in real life. Your team's against-the-odds victory in the Rumbelows Cup is unlikely to inspire a realisation that you have your priorities all wrong and lead to a marriage proposal to your long-suffering girlfriend.
But there's something in it. No, watching the snooker doesn't really mimic the ups and downs of real life, but there's a real euphoria and a despondency that sports can inspire, which can convince you momentarily that your life is amazing or terrible. Translate that to the big screen, framed around a guy who's learning to be a bit less self-centred or to pull himself out of a humdrum existence, and you've got yourself the template for a sports movie.