The Merchant-Ivory formula finds a few new flavours in this picturesque cultureclash comedy. Naomi Watts and Kate Hudson play American sisters in Paris, stumbling as they try to adapt to the French mores regarding love, sex, family and money. Subplots include Matthew Modine cracking up convincingly. Elegant and urbane.
If you had Mötley Crüe down as vacuous poodle-rockers who never stumbled across an original idea in two decades, Nicky Sixx and Tommy Lee are here to put you straight on the interview section of this 21-track retrospective. What do you know? Turns out they were always punk visionaries who pushed the envelope of rock. Yeah, right. It should be funny, but the relentless sexism and homophobia eventually grates. Witless pricks.
Underrated late John Wayne vehicle, a bracing 1971 western with The Duke, in formidable form, in hot pursuit of Richard Boone's gang of colourfully villainous and cheerfully murderous kidnappers. Surprisingly brutal, with Boone a fearsome presence and several very bloody shoot-outs. Much enjoyed by John Carpenter, who appropriated the "I thought you were dead" catchline for Escape From New York.
This tender 1986 romance is generally considered one of Eric Rohmer's finest films, though you have to be in the mood: it's as slow as it is gently touching. A lonely secretary (Marie Rivière, who co-wrote) holidays alone, fails for a while to meet anyone special, then possibly does. Eventually, its charm and delicacy—and underneath them, realism—get you where it counts.
Rod Stewart was a better singer than Mick Jagger—and at least as good a bottom-wiggler—but the Faces were always a poor boy's Stones, and this DVD can't rewrite history. Cheaply produced with ugly thumbnail factoids running below it, the fragmentary live footage intermittently captures the band's rootsy swagger but also reminds one of what an old tart Rodney could be. Singing "I'd Rather Go Blind" in a gold jumpsuit, he could be Freddie Mercury.
Mira Sorvino and Mariah Carey as waitresses who get mixed up with Italian mobsters? Surely one for the all-time turkey hall of infamy? Surprisingly, it's perfectly watchable—Sorvino's always been a decent actress, and Carey, believe it or not, swears like a potty-mouthed trooper and almost outshines her bosom. And doesn't sing. OK, it's no GoodFellas, but what is?
The ever-eccentric Richman continues his idiosyncratic musical odyssey. Recorded live in San Francisco in 2002, Take Me To The Plaza mostly comprises material from his last album, Her Mystery Not Of High Heels. Performing just with guitar and drums (something he was doing way before The White Stripes) his timing and wit are immaculate. But there's only "Pablo Picasso" (recently covered by Bowie) and "Girlfriend" from the old days.
You'll never eat frogs' legs again. This darkly witty 2D animation feature is full of cute moments and haunting images, if perhaps not the life-altering classic it's been hailed as in some quarters. The rotund Madame Souza buys her shy grandson Champion a bicycle, and years later, after much strictly regimented training, he's competing with the best. Then, in a fit of surrealism, he's kidnapped by shadowy men in black. Granny and faithful canine Bruno defy all logic to cross oceans and metropolises to rescue him.
