I decided to lay low last night, so I had a Netflix film festival.
I watched an interesting but odd Italian film called Without Conscience. Not exactly a laff riot, if you know what I mean. The distributors of the film, Picture This! Entertainment, have chosen a rather (IMHO) misleading marketing strategy for the film. I'm not even sure I can recommend it; it's one of those things where you're going to have to see and make up your own mind. Or, rather, not.
Also in the Netflix pile was Fantastic 4, the latest attempt by Marvel Comics to cash in on their brands. I saw it in the theaters when it came out and I remember thinking, "Well, that wasn't so bad." So I figured it'd be good for a night of mindless fun.
I mean, it's got Michael Chiklis in it. He's great. It's got Ioan Gruffudd in it. He's wonderful in the Horatio Hornblower series. And it's got Julian McMahon, who's great in Nip/Tuck. And don't forget Chris Evans, who I thought helped make Cellular a really outstanding thriller -- way better than it had any right to be. And there's Jessica Alba. She's... well... she's pretty.
Alas, the story sucks, and the writing is worse. Even good actors can't pull this one off.
There's no getting around it, though. There's one reason, and one reason only to watch this film:
Chris Evans. Scantily clad. 'Nuff said.
The evening was quasi-saved by the last film in my pile. Michael Showalter and many of the folk who brought us Red Hot American Summer and "Stella" on Comedy Central are back with his latest film, The Baxter. I enjoyed this one, but I have to say, the way Showalter plays the main character, Elliot, is just a little on the far side of weird. Still, it was fun, and it had the added bonus of featuring one of my favorite actors (who, it should be noted, is also on my why-the-hell-isn't-he-my-husband list), Justin Theroux.
Dreamy and talented. Just like me!
Anyway, The Baxter wasn't great, but it sure went a long way to making up for the other two.
I watched an interesting but odd Italian film called Without Conscience. Not exactly a laff riot, if you know what I mean. The distributors of the film, Picture This! Entertainment, have chosen a rather (IMHO) misleading marketing strategy for the film. I'm not even sure I can recommend it; it's one of those things where you're going to have to see and make up your own mind. Or, rather, not.
Also in the Netflix pile was Fantastic 4, the latest attempt by Marvel Comics to cash in on their brands. I saw it in the theaters when it came out and I remember thinking, "Well, that wasn't so bad." So I figured it'd be good for a night of mindless fun.
I mean, it's got Michael Chiklis in it. He's great. It's got Ioan Gruffudd in it. He's wonderful in the Horatio Hornblower series. And it's got Julian McMahon, who's great in Nip/Tuck. And don't forget Chris Evans, who I thought helped make Cellular a really outstanding thriller -- way better than it had any right to be. And there's Jessica Alba. She's... well... she's pretty.
Alas, the story sucks, and the writing is worse. Even good actors can't pull this one off.
There's no getting around it, though. There's one reason, and one reason only to watch this film:
Chris Evans. Scantily clad. 'Nuff said.
The evening was quasi-saved by the last film in my pile. Michael Showalter and many of the folk who brought us Red Hot American Summer and "Stella" on Comedy Central are back with his latest film, The Baxter. I enjoyed this one, but I have to say, the way Showalter plays the main character, Elliot, is just a little on the far side of weird. Still, it was fun, and it had the added bonus of featuring one of my favorite actors (who, it should be noted, is also on my why-the-hell-isn't-he-my-husband list), Justin Theroux.Dreamy and talented. Just like me!
Anyway, The Baxter wasn't great, but it sure went a long way to making up for the other two.
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