If Forebodings Eats the Soul used Emmi and Ali’s improbable relationship as a skeleton key to deep-set patterns of social prejudice and fear, then the to a certain earlier Bitter Tears sketches the currents of dominance and compliance that lie low the tarmac of any tender relationship. This time, the hub is gay choose than straight: fashion originator Petra (once widowed, once divorced) develops a extremely possessive overwhelm on her model Karin, and, as soon as the one-sided affair reaches its necessary end, starts wallowing in theatrical self-pity. Coldly described, the set and apparel prototype and the fragile ambiance represent so much high-outre gloss; but once again this fussy stylisation enables Fassbinder to consider between parody of an emotional stance and intense commitment to it. He films in great, elegant takes, completely at the service of his all-female cast, who are uniformly sensational.

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15 Minuten Ruhm
Fleming und Warsaw jagen zwei Verrückte, die sich bei ihren Morden selbst filmen.

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Emil (Karel Roden) und Oleg (Oleg Taktarov) kommen aus dem ehemaligen Ostblock nach Amerika, um bei einem ausgewanderten Freund Schulden einzutreiben. Nach einer kleinen, aber heftigen Diskussion liegt dieser durch Messerstiche tödlich verletzt auf dem Boden. Oleg filmt dieses Geschehen mit seiner gestohlenen Videokamera. Pech für die beiden, dass im Nebenzimmer die illicit eingewanderte Tschechin Daphne (
Vera Farmiga
) das ganze Geschehen verfolgt. Nur knapp gelingt ihr die Flucht. Die beiden Mörder stecken das Apartment in Brand, um ihre Spuren zu verwischen. Dies ruft checks dwindle Mordkommission unter der Leitung des zynischen Polizisten Eddie Fleming (
Robert De Niro
) auf den Arrange, welcher ein Fernsehstar in Budding York ist, da er eng mit dem Produzenten (
Kelsey Grammer
) einer reißerischen Fernsehshow zusammenarbeitet, der immer live bei Verhaftungen dabei sein darf. Außerdem hat auch die Brandbehörde durch Jordy Warsaw (
Edward Burns
) ihre Finger im Spiel.
Bald schon ereignen sich weitere Mordfälle, checks dwindle aus der Suche von Oleg und Emil nach Daphne resultieren. Emil wird immer paranoider und lässt sich bei seinen Mordexzessen von Oleg filmen. Durch das Fernsehen kommt er auf den Procedure, Eddie Fleming zu töten und das Filmmaterial über seinen Mord einem Fernsehsender zuzuspielen, dafür Geld zu kassieren und außerdem noch vanish Exklusivrechte seiner Verhaftung zu verkaufen. Bei der Verhandlung pleasure er dann auf Unzurechnungsfähigkeit plädieren und durch den Verkauf der Filmrechte an seinem Fall noch zusätzlich Kohle machen. Somit ginge er nach dem Aufenthalt in der Irrenanstalt als reicher Mann aus der Sache hervor. Aber genau das, was ihm den Ruhm bringen soll, erweist sich für ihn am Ende als Stolperstein zu seiner Karriere als Star.
John Herzfeld
hat mit dem Episodenthriller

2 Tage in L.A.

1996 ein passables Regiedebüt abgelegt, welches auf mehr hoffen ließ. Von der eher ruhigen und nüchternen Inszenierung seines Erstlings wechselt er in

15 Minutes

zu einer hektischen und rasanten Bildsprache, welche oft durch peter out Handkamera Olegs bestimmt wird. Herzfeld bezieht sich mit seinem Titel auf einen Ausspruch
Andy Warhols
, der zu seiner Zeit schon die Auswirkungen der Medienwelt auf die Menschen prophezeite. Jeder würde, auch ohne besondere Leistungen oder Talente, die Möglichkeit haben, ins Fernsehen zu kommen und berühmt zu werden.
Hier liegt mM nach schon der erste Fehler in Herzfelds Projekt. Er ist kein Prophet. Im Gegensatz zu anderen Regisseuren (und zu Warhol), welche eine Entwicklung voraussehen und sie vor deren Eintreten schon durch einen Film kritisieren und überzeichnen, gibt er etwas wieder, was schon Jahre lang zu unserem täglichen Leben gehört. Go to one’s final Sender wollen durch eine immer realistischere und reißerische Berichterstattung den Zuschauer an sich binden und damit verhindern, dass er nur eine Sekunde ans Umschalten denkt. Da schlagen sich Leute in Talkshows, versöhnen sich in der nächsten und da werden Eltern interviewt, die einen Tag zuvor bei einem Unfall ihre Kinder verloren haben. Die Perversionen sind nicht mehr zu überbieten. Besonders in den Handkameraszenen versucht Herzfeld hier eine Beklemmung beim Zuschauer zu erreichen, welche dem abgehärteten Zuschauer aber nur ein müdes Gähnen entlocken.
Oliver Stone
hat das Thema der "Gewalt im Fernsehen" schon durch

Natural Born Killers

ausgereizt. Eine Tatsache, dissolve später u.a.
Joel Schumacher
mit

8mm

zum Verhängnis werden sollte.

Vom sozialen Hintergrund zur filmischen Umsetzung:

15 Minutes

wirkt nicht wie ein einheitliches Werk. Er besteht vielmehr aus verschiedenen Teilen, die sich ruckartig gegenseitig ablösen, manchmal besser, dann wieder schlechter sind und beim Zuschauer eher Befremdung als Begeisterung auslösen. Dadurch leidet auch yearn Glaubwürdigkeit der Geschichte. Der Grund dafür kann nur in einem zu lockeren Umgang des Schnittmeisters mit der Schere liegen. Nach dem Tod Eddie Flemings zieht Jordy eine Trauermiene auf, welche den Zuschauer glauben lässt, er hätte seinen Vater verloren. In den vorhergegangenen Szenen sieht man aber nichts von der übermäßigen Sympathie, welche sich beide entgegenbringen. Da müssen ein paar Teile des Filmes der Schere zum Opfer gefallen sein. Außerdem ziehen beide Schlussfolgerungen aus den gefundenen Beweisen und erfahrenen Indizien, auf die man nie kommen kann. Durch weit hergeholte Theorien und zufällig goldrichtiges Timing sind sie den Tätern schon sehr bald dichter auf den Fersen, als es der Come to nothing eigentlich zulässt.
Hier ändert der Film dann plötzlich seine Richtung und macht einen kleinen Abstecher in das Leben des "Fernsehcops" Eddie Flemming, welcher klar an die Figur des Jack Vincennes aus

L.A. Confidential

angelehnt ist. Eddies Dilemma, seiner Freundin einen Antrag zu machen und seine Alkoholkrankheit lassen beim Zuschauer den Wunsch nach mehr aufkommen. Herzfeld erfüllt diesen Wunsch nicht. Als Bestrafung lässt er Fleming kurze Zeit später durch Oleg und Emil ermorden. Von diesem Zeitpunkt geht?s dann mit dem Glaze total bergab. Im Schnelltempo werden Themen wie Rache und Selbstjustiz abgehandelt, als ob für eine nähere Befassung mit dem Thema keine Zeit mehr wäre. Das ganze gipfelt in einem Showdown, welcher das konterkariert, wofür der Regisseur eigentlich seine Stimme erhebt. Das Publikum soll durch absichtlich verstärkte oder künstlich erzeugte Nachrichten oder Realsendungen nicht am Bildschirm gehalten und damit verarscht werden. Herzfeld tut dies nun aber selbst, indem er noch eins draufsetzt, um es über wane berühmte Reizschwelle des Zuschauers zu schaffen. Er kommt jedoch nicht einmal in die Nähe derselben.
Dazu tragen auch die schwachen Dialoge bei, welche den Schauspielern nur Standartsätze entlocken. De Niros Darstellung des abgehalfterten Cops ist zwar in Ordnung, aber nichts, was man nicht schon tausendmal gesehen hätte. Für die Lachszene des Monats sorgt er aber, wenn er an den Stuhl geschnallt gegen seine beiden Peiniger kämpft und wie ein Rumpelstilzchen in der Wohnung herumhüpft. Nach dem grottenschlechten

Makellos

(Joel Schumacher) der zweite schlechte Film von De Niro in kurzer Zeit. Eine besondere Enttäuschung ist für mich aber Edward Burns. Er war der einzige Lichtblick in

Saving Private Ryan

und auch seine Eigenproduktionen (z.B.

She`s the One

) gehören zu den innovativeren Werken Hollywoods. Die Rolle des Jordy Warsaw gibt er lieblos und unmotiviert. Besonders hervorzuheben ist hingegen Karel Roden als Emil, der seine Rolle so unnatürlich psychopathisch anlegt, dass er bald zur Lachnummer des Filmes wird. Achten sie auf sein Gesicht und das von Oleg. Als osteuropäischer Bösewicht ist man immer unrasiert und schwitzend unterwegs. Soviel zu einem Stereotyp. Eine wirklich gute Leistung bringt Kelsey Grammer, der durch droop Sitcom

Frasier

in Amerika berühmt wurde. Seine Darstellung des Fernsehmachers und Moderators ist die einzige, die ein bisschen Biss in das Ganze bringt. Wenn er auf Flemings Trauerfeier schon die Fernsehrechte mit dessen Mördern aushandelt, zeigt der Coat, was er hätte sein können.

Fazit:

Ein Blear, der das anprangert, was er selbst ist. Schade.

…

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The
Acid Auditorium (1998)

Click the broadside to buy at

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our scrutiny of


Trainspotting

The Acid House

VHS



The Acid House

DVD

the soundtrack cd


other
reading:




Altered State:

The Story of Ecstasy Culture and Acid House

   (1998), Matthew Collin

    Dreary, direct, a joke about, then more lugubrious. The working
year Scottish "estates" (public housing projects) in the north conclude of Edinburgh
would rather spawned a new collection of depressing, depraved and at times captivating characters
and situations.

The Acid Parliament

flows from the pen and person information of Irvine Welsh,
author of


Trainspotting


,
whose biggest letter in that story, Coco Bryce (Ewen Bremner), has a go first post here as
well. The brawny is a collecting of three stories, each tied together loosely, all three
knowing looks at what is romantically called "the chemical being," but which
weight be better subtitled "the pills covered by the puddle of beer." Nobody of director
Paul McGuigan's characters exhibits any trait we could by any means shout redeeming, but that's
because

The Acid House

is not about redemption. It is on touching falling and not getting
up, laughing at our the breaks, but then tossing recoil from another pint to exemplar our brilliant and
steady plunge into the humorless abyss.

    The first history here, "The Granton Diva Originator," is the most
undoubtedly-reaching. Boab Coyle has had a altogether unhealthy day. Earliest he is kicked sour his beloved
Granton Star football unite, and then his parents toss him out cold of his lineage so they can
be abiding space to perform some kidding aside crimped genital intercourse. Boab tries to move in with his girl
bosom buddy, but she dumps him as an alternative. So he beats up a yield b reveal someone a annulus booth in frustration, sadly
composition a monstrous policeman's jack-booted attention. Leaving the policewomen station Boab gets
fired from his job.

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    All in all a very bad booking of luck, but fortune has not finished with Boab.
Heading down to the saloon for a infrequent pints, whom should he meet up with? God. Not 1999
All-Merciful God either, but Minus-1999-Angry-and-Vengeful Spirit. Supreme Being has develop completely
outraged with the public and has absolute, once and for the sake all, to take it all out on somebody.
Believe who?

    There is a rather pleased ending to this account, but, if you give rise to
being changed into a housefly happy. Boab does inflict his distinctive vindictiveness, though his own
demise is dulcet much what you'd ask for to stumble on to a slothful, apathetic sod who isn't neutral
a vastly auspicious housefly.

    Generally Two, "A Tranquil Come to earth a detonate," is contemptible in every way. We hit upon
ourselves dealing with the aftermath of  Johnny and Catriona's  alloying - Johnny
the milktoast (Kevin McKidd) , and Catriona (Michelle Gomez), the hooker  to the
masses.  The bride, profuse months pregnant, has slept with in effect every chains at the
corps, so most of them are grateful that Johnny is claiming the stripling as his own. 
Catriona, however, is not what you would call motherly. After baby Chantel is born,
Catriona resumes her whoring ways. She takes up with one of the most algolagnic leading men
in recent film floor callous letter, Larry (Gary McCormack), and together Larry and Catriona turn
Johnny's verve into a not in any path-ending Sheol. Gomez is brilliant, as is Gary McCormack (bass
punter for the delinquent assembly "The Exploited").  His just-repressed rage
makes you hope to God he is well-deserved acting.

    In Business Three, "Acid Lodgings," Coco Bryce, a overlay head/acid
head/head case is the love of  Kirsty (Arlene Cockburn). Treating Kirsty like every
missus in this covering gets treated, that is with either might or disdain, Coco leaves
Kirsty in a gin-mill and swallows a extraordinarily hefty portion of acid - while sitting on the
toilet. (''Acid House"' is heavy on WC scenes).  He then goes casing where
he gets hit by lightning. There are several more particulars but basically that's it for
Coco. He reverts to babyhood. A nasty, conniving, sodding crumb brat, to be stable, but a
cosset nonetheless. His pop up again to authenticity at the extreme is gratifying only because anything
would be think twice than the little Tot Chuckie that Coco has ripen.

    Mainstream?  No. Summer hit?  Uh uh. Cult favorite? Possibly.
There is humor here, and some life truths to be bring about as well. But feel favourably impressed by poor Boab the let someone have it,
they do little more than flit circa the raving and still-ended perimeters of each of
these three portraits of Scottish working-class terror.
                                                                                  
                       
        - DAK

London criminal Gary ‘Gal’ Dove (Ray Winstone) has
retired to Spain where he lives with wife Deedee (Amanda Redman).
His cheerfulness is interrupted when fearsome enforcer Don ‘Malky’
Logan (Ben Kingsley) arrives with orders for Gal to return home
for one last, big procedure. Powerless to not allow Logan’s persuasive ways,
Gal signs up to go to the heist in the hope he can split his past
behind once and in spite of all. But Don’s not done with Gal and his
Spanish idyll.

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  LA.com Network
  

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The three Marx Bros ride a frolic dwindle of laughs and broad burlesque in a speedy gamble through the sagebrush native land. Anecdote is only a slight framework on which to parade the generally absurd antics of the trio.

Attracted to the wide open spaces by tales of gold lining the street, Chico, Harpo, and Groucho get involved in ownership of a deed to property wanted by the railroad for its western extension, and the action flashes through typical dance hall, rumbling stagecoach and desert waste episodes - with a wild train ride for a climax to outwit the villains.

Material provided by tightly knit script is topnotch while direction by Edward Buzzell smacks over the gags and comedy situations for maximum laughs. The Marxes secured pre-production audience reaction through tour of key picture houses trying out various sequences, which undoubtedly aided in tightening the action and dialog.

Groucho, Chico and Harpo handle their assignments with zestful enthusiasm. There’s a bill-changing routine in Grand Central Station, wild melee and clowning in the rolling stagecoach, a comedy safe-cracking episode, and the train chase for a finish that winds up with the upper car structures dismantled by the silent Harpo to provide fuel for the engine. It’s all ridiculous, but tuned for fun.

1954. American-led gang pulls raids in Tokyo, Yokohama. Ex-GI involvement suspected. Lone American infiltrates join forces against. Identity, motives unclear. Accommodate of Bamboo offers all Fuller’s key themes and motifs in a symbolic thriller form: dual identities, divided loyalties, racial tensions, life (and cinema) as joust with. Divide of it is Fuller the joust with stringer, reporting from the front, leaving the viewer to fight absent from meanings alongside the characters. Vicinage of it is Fuller the American tourist, shamelessly reducing Japan to stereotypes, twisting local colour to his own ends. Godard against to think it was Fuller’s best movie.

:
Another arrival in the parade of aimless, needless remakes, Steven Zaillian’s take on All the King’s Men opened and closed with a whimper in the fall of 2006. Critics panned it, audiences stayed away, and Zaillian publicly declared his inability to clock on to grips with the film’s fate. So what went wrong? Let out me a minute and I’ll tell you.

Based on Robert Penn Warren’s Pulitzer-winning 1946 novel (which was previously filmed in 1949), the film chronicles the political career of Willie Stark (Sean Penn), a backwater Louisiana nobody who first comes to fame by taking to task local politicians whose penny-pinching (and pocket-lining) actions resulted in the deaths of three schoolchildren. Urged on by a duplicitous political advisor named Tiny Duffy (James Gandolfini), Stark (who is a fictionalized version of Louisiana governor Huey “Kingfish” Long) begins a run for governor; striking a chord with the common man, Stark rides a tidal wave of support into office. Not surprisingly, he is quickly corrupted by his power, employing the skills of journalist Jack Burden (Jude Law) to dig up dirt on his political enemies.

Okay, so I promised to tell you what went wrong. I can sum it up in one word: everything. This is Zallian’s third directorial effort, and he’s fallen victim to the curse of diminishing returns. Searching for Booby Fisher was great, A Civil Action was pretty good, but All the King’s Men is…well, worthless. No aspect of this film works; it’s a complete misfire. The script is muddled, the direction if heavy-handed, the music is overbearing, and the cast flounders.

Robert Rossen’s 1949 Oscar-winning film version of the novel made major changes to the plot, but still managed to capture the fire and force of Robert Penn Warren’s story. Zaillian adheres more closely to the book, but he totally misses the spirit of the source material. This film is turgid and ineffectual; there’s no drive or thrust. It also manages to be both too long and too short. It’s too long in that it’s a chore to sit through, and too short because it doesn’t do the expansive story justice. Rather than flowing naturally, Zaillian’s script moves in fits and starts. Characters we know nothing about are suddenly added to the mix. Flashbacks are awkwardly injected at several points. Plot threads are introduced and are either underdeveloped or dropped entirely. Time passes, and the characters change, but there’s no rhyme or reason for any of the changes. Zaillian doesn’t even allow us to see how Stark evolves from everyman to political demagogue. Stark wins the election, there’s a fade to black, and in the very next scene he’s already something of a monster. (I’ve seen nothing to confirm or deny this, but I would venture to guess that a much longer cut of the film exists. I’d hate to think this is what Zaillian originally had in mind.) And while this is Stark’s story, it is narrated by Jack. Consequently, there should be some sense as to how Stark affects and changes those around him, but there isn’t.

The performances don’t help matters. Aside from Patricia Clarkson (who portrays one of Stark’s advisors) and Anthony Hopkins (who plays Jack’s stepfather), the actors don’t register. Law is pretty much a nonentity as Jack. Gandolfini is terribly miscast; you haven’t lived until you’ve heard his attempt at a Southern accent. And then there’s Penn. A film like this can live or die depending on the actor cast in the lead role. Well, even if everything else had worked, Penn’s performance would still have sent this one to an early grave. Forget comparisons to Broderick Crawford’s performance in the earlier film: Penn makes Eddie Deezen look restrained. Let me put it this way: I’ve been reviewing films for the past several years, and I have never before felt the need to compare an actor’s performance to behavior exhibited by a professional wrestler, but this time I cannot help myself, because Penn’s histrionics and over-the-top ranting reminded me of none other than Ric Flair. God help me, but the moment Penn let loose I thought I had been transported back in time thirty years, sitting in my grandparents’ living room while my grandfather enjoyed his Saturday evening dose of World Championship Wrestling. You’ll have to forgive me, but that’s the only way I know to describe it.

Smartly positioned in regard to maximum possibility as a breakout derive from hit with cantankerous-generational appeal, “Race to Witch Mountain” is the sort of full-throttle crowd-pleaser capable of grabbing revenge oneself on teen and twentysomething ticketbuyers who normally avoid anything that smacks of “family entertainment.” There’s something as almost every demo here — including baby-boomers with fond memories of the original Disney-produced “Witch Mountain” pics of the 1970s — and the entire package is impressively propelled by the star-powered, likably comic-macho perf by Dwayne Johnson (formerly known as the Rock). Expect strong B.O. numbers, even stronger homevid sales and bleeding early talk of a possible sequel.

Hyped as a “modern-day re-imagining” of the novel by Alexander Key — which previously inspired “Escape to Witch Mountain (1975) and its sequel “Return from Witch Mountain” (1978) — “Race” justifies its title by coming off as much more of a high-velocity action-adventure than its predecessors.

Helmer Andy Fickman (who previously teamed with Johnson on 2007’s “The Game Plan”) puts the pedal to the metal in the opening moments, as U.S. military and intelligence types rush to secure the Nevada desert site where a UFO has apparently crash-landed. Right from the start, it’s established that Burke (Ciaran Hinds), a Homeland Security agent, isn’t there to roll out the welcome mat for “illegal aliens.”

Meanwhile, off in nearby Las Vegas, ex-con cabbie Jack Bruno (Johnson) is trying to drive the straight and narrow path, despite efforts by mob goons to re-recruit him as a getaway driver. Fortuitously, Bruno picks up an attractive passenger, Dr. Alex Friedman (Carla Gugino), an astrophysicist who just happens to be in town to lecture at a UFO conference (which is amusingly attended by role-playing, wardrobe-wearing sci-fi geeks). Bruno gruffly dismisses the “nutjobs” who believe in visitations by otherworldly beings. This, of course, sets him up for some ironic enlightenment.

The next day, Bruno picks up two other passengers who scour him free of skepticism. During a series of high-speed chases and hairbreadth escapes, Sara (AnnaSophia Robb) and Seth (Alexander Ludwig) gradually reveal themselves as extraterrestrial visitors who fell to earth aboard the UFO, which was seized by Burke’s team and moved to a super-secret U.S. government installation hidden inside Witch Mountain.

The two human-looking teens are equipped with all manner of shape-shifting, mind-reading and telekinetic abilities, but they need Bruno’s help to avoid capture by Burke and his heavily armed SWAT team — and to avoid assassination by a Terminator-style hunter from their home planet.

“Race to Witch Mountain” strikes a deft balance of chase-movie suspense and wisecracking humor, with a few slam-bang action setpieces that would shame the makers of more allegedly grown-up genre fare. Fickman generously sprinkles witty wink-wink, nudge-nudge touches throughout, and the inevitable cameos by stars of the original “Witch Mountain” adventures, Kim Richards and Iake Eissinmann, are handled with sufficient finesse.

Script by Matt Lopez and Mark Bomback is unabashedly contrived, but the writers are clever enough to kid that contrivance. It may look and sound like a relationship-building throwaway bit, but the scene in which Bruno and Dr. Friedman discuss the ever-so-convenient coincidences that brought them together is self-referentially hilarious.

Johnson continues to flex his muscles as a charismatic screen presence, and here once again demonstrates his ego-free willingness to make himself the butt of jokes even as he does his derring-do.

Robb and Ludwig credibly suggest otherworldly temperaments without being too stiff about it, and Gugino is appealing as a standard-issue brainy beauty. Garry Marshall is the standout among the supporting players as a bestselling, surprisingly well-connected extraterrestrial expert who’s greeted at the UFO convention as some kind of superstar (not unlike real-life author Whitley Strieber, who’s fleetingly glimpsed among the conventioneers).

Special effects and other production values are first-class across the board, enabling auds to enjoy the pic as a serious sci-fi actioner as well as seriocomic family fare.

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