Affecting documentary about gay bars in the deep south, produced by no less than Kevin Smith (good for him!) and directed by his buddy, Toronto's own Malcolm Ingram. Needs a sequel.
Watched on a plane.
Buried in 2+ hours of weightless CGI spectacle and a plot that requires a PhD in WandaVision Studies to follow are two, maybe three scenes containing residue of ideas that were novel and exciting in Sam Raimi movies from 30 or 40 years ago. The film of a defeated man.
Ever since the "couch jump" incident of 2005 punctured his too-good-to-be-true star persona, and especially since around the time his last wife fled with their child under cover of night to escape the cult in which he is a high-ranking member, Tom Cruise has pursued a number of strategies to defend his status as the Greatest Living Movie Star. First: he has kept his nose to the grindstone and carried on as if it is still 1996 and he is…
Weird that they left all the Abu Ghraib stuff out of the trailer. I assume this was accidental?
Another Paul Schrader movie from Paul Schrader. You've got a man living an ascetic lifestyle writing a diary in a room, you've got the Pickpocket ending - all that good stuff you like and look forward to from our Uncle Paul. Almost every scene is set in a depressing hotel room, prison, or casino. I like that what draws Schrader to gambling…