First I let all the water out of my own website by getting uncontrollably addicted to the blog format. Now I'm giving away all my inspirations to other blogs while mine sits under dust, like Miss Havisham's cake. Don't worry, I'm too selfish to let his continue, but for now, you can catch my review of Richard Brooks' In Cold Blood
over at The Film Experience. And when the semester finally ends and the oceans of grading have parted (not unlike the Red Sea), I will be hummin' comin' at'cha like Xscape, spitting chaw at Walk the Line
, trying to make some room at the inn for the interesting, ambitious Bee Season
, and letting y'all know that, whatever its flaws, I cried at Rent
, like, five separate times, and I was so overjoyed to see an ensemble so committed to the story they were telling. What's with the flagging box-office? $10 is the cheapest Rent
y'all will ever pay. Cough it up, now!
(Ed.: I have a hard time thawing to actresses I don't like, so imagine it happening three times in one day. Even if there are clear limitations to the performances of Reese Witherspoon, Juliette Binoche, and Idina Menzel in the aforementioned trio of movies, they all laid a heavier lien on my respect than they have before. Binoche was particularly interesting, even in a muted performance of an underwritten character that no one is talking about.)
Labels: Literature, Movies 2005