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There is not a plot to be found in this flick.
As far as teen comedies go, you are scraping the bottom of the barrel with this one.
I gave this film 2 stars only because Dominic Monaghan actually put effort through in his acting.
Everything else about this film is extremely amateur.
Everything associated with the direction of this film was very poorly executed.
Not only should the director rethink what she is doing for a life career but maybe she should watch a few films.
As Dominic Monaghan is a very credible actor, placing him in a film of this caliber makes him look awful.
Whomever the "actor" was that played Jack's best friend should never have stepped in front of the camera.
I didn't expect much from such a small film, but perhaps a little more time and effort should be put into the characters and their surroundings.
Don't waste your time or money on this film (like I did) you will be sorely disappointed.
I jumped at the chance to view this movie uncut and uninterrupted, remembering rahs and raves for it.
But wherever it seemed about to slip into being truly scary, it backed off and went somewhere else.
The dripping water throughout the house, the black rain, the prophetic dreams, taking the wrong turn in raw sewage were dropped before they could work up to a scream.
What a disappointment.
Chamberlain's nearly expressionless mask of a face offered little but confused disbelief, something I found myself mirroring as the film wore on.
What could have been eerie Aboriginal chanting and instruments in the background were instead a cacophony seemingly designed to beat terror into one's head.
The ideas that modern people can embody ancient gods, that the Aboriginal peoples believe red-haired white men were the first priests, and many other possibilities are passed along more like a shopping list than a hint at another dimension (the Dream Time).
[SPOILER] In the final scene, it wasn't clear to me what the director was trying to tell.
Is there a big wave?
So what?
How big?
A tsunami?
Yeah, okay.
That's devastating but not apocalyptic.
Is it the end of the world?
From a wave?
The last wave?
That'd have to be a pretty darn big wave.
Why?
Was the world that bad a place?
It didn't seem so awful in this movie.
Actually I didn't think the wave came off, since the shadow left Burton's face that had been cast by the wave.
Was it only Burton's apocalypse?
Heck, that happens every day to people who lose it.
It wasn't of any interest if it was only him.
The most frightening scene, and the one that gives the best indication of Weir's potential, was in Charlie's apartment where Burton has gone to confront the old man for scaring Burton's wife.
Charlie keeps asking him "Who are you?"
and it becomes truly disturbing after a while.
Unfortunately, the movie never followed suit.
The perfect murder is foiled when a wife(played by Mary Ellen Trainor, once the wife to director Robert Zemeckis, who helmed this episode), who murders her husband with a poker, has the misfortune of receiving a visitor as she is about to move the body outside..
an escaped insane madman dressed in a Santa Claus suit(played by a deviously hideous Larry Drake).
She fends for her life while trying to find a way of hiding her husband's corpse.
She decides to use an ax, once she downs the Santa killer who misses several chances to chop off the woman's head, to frame the killer for her husband's murder.
Santa killer locks her in a closet and pursues the woman's daughter as she tries desperate to free herself to save the child.
This episode of TALES FROM THE CRYPT just recycles tired material involving the old "Santa kills" theme while also adding the oft-used(add nauseum)woman-murders-her-husband-for-a-man-she's-been-cheating-with routine.
It's essentially Trainor trying to find a way to avoid being caught with a dead body she kills while also keeping a safe distance from a maniac.
There's nothing refreshing or new about this plot which pretty much goes through the motions.
Not one of the show's highlights.
Well, as Goethe once said, there really isn't any point in trying to pass a negative judgement that aspires to be objective on "something that has had a great effect."
"La Maman et La Putain" has surely passed into history as an influence on much of what's been done in France and elsewhere in the past thirty years and no one interested in the history of film, certainly, should be dissuaded from watching it.
To express a purely subjective judgement, however, I feel compelled to disagree with almost every other review posted here and say to people: "Don't watch it;
it's a waste of hours of your time that will just leave you feeling rather sick and angry."
And by that I don't mean "sick and angry" about "the human condition" or anything so general and profound as that, because that is exactly the line that most critics have adopted in their fulsome praise of the film - "an ordeal to watch in its ruthless dissection of our emotional cowardice and cruelty" and so on - and, if it really managed to put across a universally or even broadly relevant message of this sort, then the director would have good reason to be satisfied with himself, however pessimistic his conclusions may be.
My beef with the film is rather that I don't see this hours-long record of empty vanity and petty treachery as being justified or excused by any GENERALLY relevant message at all.
All three main characters are deeply morally unattractive individuals: Alexandre to the greatest degree, of course, because we see by far the most of him and because he seldom shuts up for more than thirty seconds;
Marie perhaps to the least degree, because we see the least of her.
Alexandre's affected and pretentious monologues have a kind of amusement value, of course, but the amusement wears thin as one comes more and more clearly to realize that Jean-Pierre Léaud is most likely not even acting and that, with absurd remarks like "un homme beau comme un film de Nicholas Ray", he really was just reproducing word-for-word opinions that were accepted as authentic and profound by the milieu in which he, along with the director Eustache, had been living for about ten years by the time of the making of the film.
I suppose if the tone of relentless superficiality and triviality had been sustained throughout 100% of the film, it might have worked as a long sardonic comedy about a particularly shallow, worthless and despicable post-'68 milieu.
What made, however, this viewer at least extremely angry with the director was his granting of at least one lengthy scene each to Alexandre and Veronika in which we are clearly expected to empathize with and feel for them as if they shared a moral universe with us.
If a man can get away with living in the flat of and professing to love one woman, sleeping (mostly in this very flat) with another, and running around Paris proposing marriage to yet a third, well, I suppose I can wish him the best of luck in the dog-eat-dog world he's chosen to create for himself.
What I can't, however, in all conscience do is listen even for a moment to maudlin monologues from him in which he speaks about his "anxiety" and his "despair."
The same goes double for the even more despicable Veronika, whom we are shown barging drunk into the apartment and even the bed shared by Marie and Alexandre and behaving there with an infantile inconsistency tantamount to the most savage and heartless cruelty.
As I say, if "La Maman et La Putain" is intended to be nothing more nor other than a portrait of Alexandre, Veronika and Marie, three individuals whom any even halfway decent person would never admit into their company let alone their home, then I suppose there is a kind of legitimacy in praising the director for being "unflinching" (though why one should even feel like "flinching" once one had consciously opted to create such thoroughly repellent characters to filmically observe I can't imagine).
The problem, however, is that the director is clearly convinced - and appears to have succeeded in convincing generations of critics - that Alexander, Veronika and Marie are somehow representative of human beings in general and of the limits of human beings' emotional capabilities.
This latter idea, however, is arrant and offensive nonsense.
There may indeed be an inherent fallibility and tendency to tragedy in human relations in general and sexual relations in particular.
But the nature and degree of this fallibility and tendency to tragedy can only possibly be determined by people who make a sincere and serious effort to make such relations work.
It surely needs no cinematic or authorial genius to convey to us the information that a man who behaves like Alexandre is going to end up hated, miserable, and alone, or that women who insist on expecting love from a man like Alexandre are going to end up disappointed and bitter.
Watch "La Maman et La Putain" if you're historically interested in what passed for culture and human interaction in a certain post-'68 Parisian milieu which was probably, unfortunately, not restricted to just a few particularly anti-social types like these.
But please don't make the mistake of believing that what is recorded here has any general relevance for humanity in the way that a film by Jean Renoir or Martin Scorsese might be argued to have.
That's not the sound of bees, that's the effect induced by watching this extremely long, extremely boring, badly acted movie.
How I ever made it through all 3 1/2 hours without falling asleep I'll never know.
The plot is simple..
].3 thoroughly unlikable morons talk about sex for 3 1/2 hours.
And you thought Rohmer was deadly.
This is even worse, if that's possible.
> I must really be a masochist if I could watch this entire movie without turning it off...
or killing someone.
Iberia is nice to see on TV.
But why see this in silver screen?
Lot of dance and music.
If you like classical music or modern dance this could be your date movie.
But otherwise one and half hour is just too long time.
If you like to see skillful dancing in silver screen it's better to see Bollywood movie.
They know how to combine breath taking dancing to long movie.
Director Carlos Saura knows how to shoot dancing from old experience.
And time to time it's look really good.
but when the movie is one and hour it should be at least most of time interesting.
There are many kind of art not everything is bigger then life and this film is not too big.
That reviewers liked this movie surprises me.
The plot is a muddle.
The characters are wooden.
Michael Bowen spends most of the film spying on the other characters and misjudging all of them.
No one has any redeeming quality or point-of-interest.
This is not an edgy work.
It is not imaginative.
It is not ironic.
It is no clever.
There is nothing straight forward about this tedious work.
That is missed theatrical release is not surprise.