Films

What is there to say about The Dark Knight which hasn't already been said? It's been one of the most heavily anticipated movies of all time, it's marketing campaign was unlike anything we've seen previously, it was teased for 3 years ever since we saw Batman turn over the Joker card at the end of Batman Begins, it had it's second biggest star die before the movie could be released and, well, it's the god damn Batman!
There's been a million reviews all around the internet for weeks now so this is less of a review and more of an analysis of the film. I must say that this will contain a few  spoilers so if you haven't seen the film yet and don't want to be spoiled I'd stop reading now.

Grand Champion's producers had lots and lots of dirt on Roberts and Willis.'"Grand Champion" is an entertaining adventure that promises to delight audiences of all ages. From its touching story to its charming characters to its upbeat Texas music, there's something for everyone. The adventure begins with the love between a twelve-year old boy, Buddy, and his steer, Hokey Pokey and Buddy's determination to raise Hokey into a "Grand Champion".' -- rottentomatoes.com How could this happen? What was I thinking, renting a G-rated movie in the first place? What rush of uncharacteristic tolerance caused me to overlook my hatred of Joey Lauren Adams and the whole American bowl-cut genre and hand over the cash with a benign smile? I was duped, that's why. Tricked. When the title and synopsis on the DVD case is in Japanese, all the foreign mang has to go on is the cover art and the actors' names. 'Grand Champion' had one of the those wistful pastel drawing covers featuring a cow, and in large bold lettering, 'BRUCE WILLIS' and 'JULIA ROBERTS'.

After 40 times of Cash asking June to marry him she said yes

Generally I don't go out my way to watch films that are centered on a love story. They all have the same formula: Boy meets girl. Girl and boy fall in love. Some disaster happens and they are separated only to find happiness in the end. This is the plot for any musical or Hugh Grant movie. I don't watch them but the masses seem to love the same old shit served up like an identical McDonalds meal. The same ingredients the same factory formula; insulting to anyone's intelligence.

Walk The Line doesn't follow the formula as it is taken from Johnny Cash's autobiographies. Not knowing too much about the man, apart from the myth, I was a new comer to his early life.

The film starts with Johnny's most famous concert and record at Folsom State Prison. Johnny is pricking his finger on a band saw blade in the prison work room reflecting on a memory that pains him while his band are warming the crowd of inmates.

The film then flashes back to Johnny's early childhood, his harsh upbringing and ugly father played brilliantly by Robert Patrick. Johnny's older brother is killed in an accident with a band saw and Johnny's father blames Johnny for not being there.

This guy will ruin your shit

This is my first movie review here so it'll be a bit rocky but i'll do my best. I saw No Country for Old Men last night and was blown away. I've enjoyed several Coen Brothers movies before like Fargo and The Big Lebowski, both of which I rate extremely high on my list so I was optimistic about this without really knowing anything about the movie.

You can really take this movie 2 ways, you can shut your mind off and enjoy it as an awesome action/thriller cat and mouse slugfest, or you can look deeper and discover that it goes a lot further than that. It's the type of movie where I saw it with 3 other people and whilst we all really enjoyed it, we all came away with different ideas on exactly what took place and what it meant. Of course only seeing it the one time there are probably still things I have missed, it will certainly get a second and third viewing.

The star of the "movie"

Biggest load of shit ever. Described as Blair Bitch meets Crapzilla meets: Nokia, Campari, Mountain Dew and various other forms of cross-marketing from intellectual property thief and generally over-rated buffoon JJ Abrams.

Fuck this movie. Fuck it good. Fuck even reviewing it. The film starts with a video camera being found in some park called Central Park and then it is played. I should say at the outset that this movie was ruined by outside forces from the start; otherwise known as bored teenagers who would not shut up even 15 minutes into the opening scene of a going away party being thrown for the film's main protagonist whatever his name is. It could be Jake Gyllenhaal -- they all look the same.

News that Hans had released his 2007 best of list spread like wildfire.

This is a preliminary list only. I may rethink parts of it, and I do intend to come back and write proper reviews. Then again, I am, as a rule, full of promises and vague, good intentions. It rarely amounts to very much, but I find it gets me through... My abject lack of achievement is salved, just a little, by my nebulous -- but still ambitious -- plans for World Domination. It's only a matter of finding the requisite time and enthusiasm, and then the world is MINE. (In the meantime, I will consider purchasing a sofa.)

Anyway, enough of my raving, here are the goods:

1. NOISE

[Dec 6: Hans' status at time of writing = buzzed]

Carice van Houten - frontrunner for Best Breasts Oscar?

To paraphrase Forrest Gump, Paul Verhoeven is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you’re gonna ge-eet. While positioning your arsecheeks comfortably on your cinema seat, you could be forgiven for glaring balefully at the opening credits and wondering if you’re to be treated to a ripsnorter like Starship Troopers, a guilty pleasure like Basic Instinct, or a festering turd like Showgirls. Fortunately for everyone involved, Verhoeven’s latest film, The Black Book, has no discernible turdlike qualities. To be truthful, it’s not quite a ripsnorter, or a guilty pleasure either – but then that merely proves the point that chocolatiers are creative so-and-sos (and that every metaphor has a breaking point).

According to the balefully-stared-at opening credits, The Black Book is “inspired by a true story”, which is cinema code for a kernel of truth in a sea of made-up shit. Be that as it may, it’s a film about Rachel Stein (Carice van Houten), a Dutch Jew fleeing Nazi internment (and worse) during the closing stages of WWII. After narrowly escaping an errant Allied bomb and not-so-errant Nazi machine-guns, Rachel falls into cahoots with the Dutch Resistance. During all the espionage, counter-espionage, and counter-counter-espionage (you get the picture) that Verhoeven uses to flesh out his plot, Rachel must seduce the debonair, stamp-collecting Gestapo officer, Müntze (Sebastian Koch). She does, of course, fall in love with this torture-sanctioning, execution-approving, Holocaust-abetting – but really quite dishy – slab of hot German masculinity. Complications, not to mention conflicted loyalties, ensue.

"Please, Jesus, get me out of here."

JESUS CAMP – in limited release, ACMI Cinemas

Deep in America’s heartland, religious extremists are rallying an army. Home-schooled, Bible-besotted and blindly fundamentalist, the children of the Christian Right are being trained as soldiers for the cause, rigorous Evangelists whose sole purpose in life is to take back America in the name of Jesus Christ.

Becky Fischer is not an irrational woman, at least not within the context of her faith. A children’s pastor, and the director of the Kids On Fire Summer Camp in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Becky is a passionate and thoughtful communicator who has an obvious love for the children she teaches. Warm and engaging, she believes that her charges are blessed because they have been born-again, and she speaks of them with great pride and hope.

Becky Fischer is not some cookie-cutter monstrosity, but she certainly is a monster. Under her tutelage, young minds are broken and reformed as militant fanatics. In a firm but understanding voice, she denounces her children for their secret sins and their lukewarm faith and encourages them to beg for forgiveness, to drive the devil out of their hearts. In the meeting hall of a backwater country camp, small children shake with violent tears; screaming, sobbing and speaking in tongues; seeming terrified, possessed and inspired all at once. They pray over a life-sized image of George Bush and ask their god to end the separation of Church and State. They tape up their mouths to share the silence of aborted babies. They clap and sing and reach their arms out in devotional orgy. They are five, seven, twelve years old, and they are utterly brain-washed.

It goes for HOW LONG?

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD’S END – general release

Disney’s pirate pantomime has sailed happily off the edge of the world, careening through space in the barely comprehensible adventures of many men, who do many things (which all seem quite interesting, although they are uniformly difficult to follow).

Welcome to the Caribbean, where Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) is dead, Captain Barbosa (Geoffrey Rush) is alive and Elizabeth and Will (Keira Knightly, Orlando Bloom) are having trust issues. With ol’ Tentacle Face (Bill Nighy) at their command, The East India Trading Company rules the seven seas, intent on ridding the world of pirates, forever. The pirate lords are stirring, with plans to rally at Shipwreck Cove and meet their enemy with a united front, but one of the nine buccaneer chiefs is missing and with him is one of the nine Pieces of Eight required to unleash unholy terror on the East India Armada. Captain Jack was banished to Davey Jones’ locker before passing on his secret talisman to a successor, so he must be fetched from his sandy afterlife if the blood-thirsty, business-minded East India fleet is to be stopped.