I like movies.
Jack Nicholson pisses on James Spader's shoes in an act of hypermasculine domination. They're both werewolves. If only this movie were as balls to the wall insane as it sounds! For a better example of Michelle Pfeiffer letting loose her inner beast, I recommend the genuinely demented Batman Returns.
On paper, I should have loved this. An aggressively uncommercial reteaming of Bridesmaids duo Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo, dedicated to maximum silliness. I admire that. But you know those SNL movies that feel like neverending sketches? Barb and Star is one of those, without the benefit of actually being based on anything. Instead it feels like 18 unrelated sketches jammed together, mugging desperately for attention. I guess I'd describe it as a mash-up of The Californians and Target Lady, put in a blender with Austin Powers? Like I said, on paper...
I've written ten screenplays and several short films. The most widely read script of mine has been read by about half-a-dozen people, but I still consider myself a writer first and foremost. As you're writing, your work is solely yours. Once you've finished, it remains yours. But as soon as you release it into the world, as soon as you share it with one friend or colleague, that changes. It doesn't belong to you anymore. Sure, if your work is…
A lot of people seem to be backing away from Donnie Darko nowadays, distancing themselves from it like it's a particularly painful memory, an unwelcome flashback to their high school days. Well, maybe so. But don't blame that on the movie. I'm not going to give it credit for profundity that it doesn't have, except that it kind of does. A mysterious puzzle of a film, but pleasingly straightforward about its oddness. Gyllenhaal, Barrymore, and Swayze doing the best work of their careers.