A post-BOOM! Liz & Dick romp that plays like if the Coen Bros. took a pass at THE ASTROLOGER, I almost couldn't believe it. Miraculous.
Surprisingly sedate reporter Elliott Gould stumbles onto a governmental conspiracy to fake a Mars landing as astronauts James Brolin, Sam Waterston, and Orenthal James Simpson untie themselves as loose ends. Hyams' craftsmanship is in full force in concert with a deft blend of smart-dumb movie logic -- we'll buy that a trip to Mars and back takes less than a year as long as it delivers spectacle like the Bond-level bi-plane / helicopter chase or Hal Holbrook ripping through a…
"...For there is a man inside me, and only when he's finally out, I can walk free of pain."
-- Tobias Fünke
Calling media "dated" as strictly a pejorative needs to stop. It implies that only contemporary works matter because they're about The Way We Live Now, ignoring the archival value of a cultural statement. Sure, there's a spectrum through which one can have this conversation, but it very often winds up as a dead-end. If there is a common complaint with Mann's work, it's that his attempts at staying in the vanguard of taste fossilize portions of his works in amber…