nimblemarlin17 said:I caught it last night and actually enjoyed it. I haven't seen the original yet—though I definitely want to—but this new one is a solid action flick without being totally nonsensical. It’s certainly no masterpiece, but it holds its own.
You really are such a predictable opportunist—a total sucker for Schumacher and Spielberg—that it’s no wonder you’re drowning in mindless junk... making "no major nonsense" your highest praise is telling. You remind me of someone just looking for the easiest path possible because they can't handle anything actually challenging. Honestly, you're just forum insanity personified—if you were ten years younger, maybe you'd be fun, but right now you just seem like an old fool... and all that sucking up to the "authorities" here hasn't done a single thing to elevate you above being a mere message board joke. 👎 Just go be a sports fanatic; at least there you won't stand out quite so much for your stupidity.
na rub pamet romansiran paranoja naš doba That man was truly significant—largely due to his unique connection with Krleža. He wasn't just an actor who stood out as a bright spot in put u raj—which, unfortunately, left Krleža so disappointed he wouldn't touch any of his works for ten years—but he was also the most vital link in convincing Krleža to finally greenlight the TV movie (or drama, if you prefer) "na rub pamet romansiran paranoja naš doba," based on perhaps Krleža's finest novel. (If *The Return of Philip Latinović* is an existentialist philosophy, then *na rub pamet romansiran paranoja naš doba* is a dramatized paranoia of our era...)
To the great heartbreak of everyone involved in the production, Krleža didn't live long enough to see it come to life.
Tadić plays the Doctor here with unmatched skill—perfectly capturing the essence of the role.
We are missing that drama on our television screens today—both because of Krleža and because of Tadić...
I’m not playing games here. The actual title of the book is The Neurotic Personality of Our Time, and you can grab the translation through Interlibera.com—it's available in standard American English...
There’s a scene in Zardoz that really calls to mind The English Patient. But that moment actually serves to "explain" Zardoz—assuming we aren't changing the thread title to THE WORST MOVIE EVER—so it feels like Britons can only truly grasp sci-fi if it's presented as a moral dilemma with theatrical overacting. It’s just like how their detectives spend all their time blinking and sighing, while an American would just floor the gas in a muscle car or leap from the 15th floor... 😁
No, I'm not against psychological thrillers or chamber dramas in general.
In fact, some American "remakes"—take those French film adaptations, for instance—are nothing short of sacrilege and a total disaster.
According to Karen Horney, that specific Critical Parent persona falls under what’s known as the anal type—if you catch my drift. I’d really suggest picking up her book, The Neurotic Personality of Our Time... For anyone just starting out, these sadistic traits align pretty closely with what she describes.
I'll be heading to a screening soon to double-check all the facts... It started with his first wife—Sharon Stone—who left him after falling victim to some baseless rumors about infidelity. He was completely out of touch with his own kids; they basically had to perform for him like they were on a Broadway stage. He was quite superstitious, too—it's said he actually tried to reach his late mother through spiritualism... Apparently, he rushed into marrying Sharon Stone just because Brigitte Bardot had turned him down. Toward the end of his life, he lost his grip on reality—he truly believed he was the hero from Being There. (He poured everything into that role because he loved the book so much...) His friend—not necessarily his closest, but perhaps his most useful ally—was Alfred Hitchcock. He ended up handling the negotiations with the Hollywood studios when they grew tired of dealing with the eccentric British actor. There are even whispers that his heart attack was triggered by using some Eastern aphrodisiacs—all in an attempt to impress his first wife. Like so many comedians—and I know, I shouldn't say everyone, but surely there are exceptions!—his private life was anything but joyful. (By the way, the remake starring Steve Martin has already been re-edited once following some US screenings. Interestingly, they cut the character Katoa and added a part played by Jean Reno. I'm honestly prepared to bury that movie before it even hits theaters.)
I suppose we should look ahead... Wild Things...It all begins with... Theresa Russell... She’s riding alongside Dillon... Next up is the car wash scene—this serves as the introduction right as they approach the doors... ...it's just—there's no sign of Campbell here......
I assume you're referring to that specific scene... maybe? The three of them—with their glasses of bubbly......
The most electric scene has to be when they’re both in the pool—with Kevin Bacon absolutely beaming while filming them on his camcorder—which provides such a hilarious bit of comic relief that the audience just couldn't resist...So, that's the scene...
One a cro Fag already made it clear—he thinks his favorite view is watching Bacon in the shower...
In one of the absolute best entries, we get two detectives who are constant buddies—just constantly trading barbs and teasing each other. The movie kicks off with one of them attempting suicide, but instead of a bullet, he pulls out a bottle of gin—because the guy actually wants to drown himself in booze. His wife left him... His partner, on the other hand, has a wife who smokes so much that their canaries are dropping dead one after another—leaving nothing but a mountain of cigarette butts clogging up the stairs... Eventually, she heads off to a smoking cessation program, but when she returns, she’s wrapped head-to-toe in bandages like some kind of mummy. Her husband nearly has a heart attack and starts shooting at her—all while a single cigarette is sticking out from her bandaged head (not to mention the rest of her body)...
And you absolutely cannot miss that chainsaw showdown at the end. The suspect's last name is Cairo—and the phone book is just filled with people named Cairo...
You'll never guess who the culprit is—assuming you can even survive the movie through all the laughing—it really is a masterpiece of comedy...
I’m actually one of those people—it surprises me how many haters there are here!—who doesn't trash The Cable Guy or Jim Carrey in general. On the contrary, I see him as the successor to a legendary American comedian...
Well, just for the sake of argument, I'll pose a question—did Carrey truly become the embodiment of Kaufman, as some claim?
Tony Clifton? Clifton was the "anti-Andy." While Kaufman was a die-hard transcendental meditation guru and all-around purist, he had a dark side as well. That dark side was Tony Clifton, a sleazy and downright obnoxious Las Vegas lounge singer that looked and acted nothing like him. Kaufman's writer said that Kaufman's contract with Paramount stated Clifton had to have a parking space next to his with his name on it -- plus his own private dressing room.
(Jim Carrey is even better—if I may say so—in Dumb and Dumber... which effectively answers my own rhetorical question from earlier...)
That said, Danny DeVito is fantastic here. The way Michel Hazanavicius tries to "paint a portrait of American society" has become quite tiresome...
Richard Hernandez13 said:Klinjo just loves fiction way too much—so he decided to tweak his resume a bit... Or maybe it’s the other way around: he lies so naturally that being a writer is really his only viable career path. 😁
The second option is the only one that actually makes sense. (It's all artificial to begin with) Is art—or maybe just show business—the ultimate refuge for every dreamer and social misfit? 😁
Believe me, Mary Smith’s movie wasn't exactly my muse...
But when it comes to the genre, there's this "trash" label—which doesn't actually carry a negative connotation—it honestly feels more like an add-on to extreme sports...
I caught this one in the theater—it might feel a bit flat on a smaller screen. It really marks the start of a major comeback for Robert Downey Jr., and his performance is just stellar.
Did anyone else catch how the movie slowly reveals that James Leer (the character played by Tobey Maguire) is essentially a parasite—just a total psychological vampire who drains everyone else of their ideas, assets, and cash...
Such a great college-era film. If I recall correctly, I actually sat through this in the cinema more than twice...
The way it pokes fun at that whole "writing a novel in a movie and actually succeeding" trope is spot on—that massive book with its thousand numbered pages, the professor showing up with all those failures, the girl he thought he was "capturing" turning cold once she saw the literal horse teeth in his manuscript, Leer heading off to bed with Robert Downey Jr., and him still drunk, basically sabotaging his own career over the phone...
And then the ending... that moment where Maguire bows on stage—that felt like a robbery, didn't it?
The family comes out on top, even if they end up splitting up—which is honestly a rarity for an American film... though a worse ending would have been a total disaster.
Kids who just discovered movies love parroting this line—"a remake can never live up to the original"...
But honestly? A remake can actually outshine the source material. There aren't any hard rules here.
It all comes down to the *why* behind the remake—if there’s a genuine desire to say something fresh, or if it pushes past the limitations of "that era" (think censorship or outdated tropes), then it works. If the script builds upon the foundation and adds layers that resonate with our modern world while keeping the soul of the original intact... then you've got a success.
Now, if they're just recycling an old script because they've run out of ideas—well, that's a pointless exercise (unless you're the producer looking for a quick buck, of course)...
Take "Sabrina," for instance—a safe, overly polished effort by Sidney Polak that doesn't really offer anything new. On the flip side, a great remake that corrects the naivety of its predecessor is Peter Hyams' "Narrow Margin" featuring Gene Hackman.
Or look at "The Big Sleep"—where Howard Hawks' version feels more like a lark, but the Michael Winner version with Robert Mitchum and Sally Miles is actually a fantastic film.
Then there's "Getaway"—where Sam Peckinpah's original is a total masterpiece, making the remake feel like a complete dud...
I’m heading to the theater—I’d really love to catch A Quiet Place... But honestly, no matter how early I get settled, there’s always some couple that trickles in late. Then the usher comes over to lead them to my row, and by the time they finally get cozy and finish scrolling through their phones—which glow in the dark like lightsabers from >... I’ve already missed the opening credits, the costume designer, the editor, and those crucial first shots...
Then again, an empty theater isn't exactly ideal either—you need that audience connection, that shared energy. You want to hear the laughter during a comedic beat, or that collective gasp when a jump scare hits because everyone was expecting a full-on slasher flick...
Or do they cry at the right moments? No? Are they laughing instead?!
Or maybe they're just loudly crinkling bags of chips.
Seriously, without those constant text messages, people would probably lose interest within eighty minutes...
And once the movie "ends," you'd better be sitting near the front—otherwise, you won't see any of the assistant directors or the stunt doubles... Not to mention the soundtrack credits...
