Reviews

This film is so vacuous and self-indulgent, the friend who accompanied me to the screening remarked that this is exactly the film Marie-Antoinette would have made about herself.

Sofia Coppola's own life of privilege is so transparently on screen in every frame here, I don't know why she just didn't turn a camera on her rich, bored, indulged movie-making friends.

Like many people who enjoyed "Lost In Translation," I was looking forward to this. The fact that Judy Davis, my favorite living actress, is in it helped. But what a waste.

I guess Judy needs to work like everyone else, and this is the kind of high profile project that keeps her profile high among the Tinseltown movers and shakers who won't be honest with Sofia Coppola about what a turkey she's made.

All the PR guff about the costumes and the production design made on a limited budget. If you want to see beautiful images in a movie which cost a buck ninety-nine, rent Sally Potter's "Orlando." Each image is like a tableau in that film.

But don't waste your money on this one.

Are we really so deprived of decent entertainment that this movie is getting rave reviews which, quite frankly, it doesn't deserve.

At best, it's mildly amusing, but I was expecting so much more, based on the reviews I've read and user comments on this board.

Yes, it has an underlying sweetness, but it could have done with some judicious editing. What is funny the first or second time really isn't THAT funny the fourth and fifth time, such as the old Indian guy talking dirty. A good illustration is the end title sequence--it's funny to see the cast perform "Aquarius/Let The Sun Shine In" from "Hair" for 30 seconds but did we really need to see the whole thing as a music video? One thing that really bothers me about Steve Carell, both in this movie and in "The Office," is that he is way too buff to be playing these kinds of characters. Guys like this don't have "bods." I'm really surprised that his agent hasn't told him that his physical condition is totally at odds with the personalities of the types of roles he's playing.

If I really want to laugh, I'll tune into "Curb Your Enthusiasm" reruns on HBO each weeknight.

This film is HORRIBLE. If the production designer gets an Oscar nomination for this, his co- nominee should be Albert Speer, Hitler's favorite architect of the Third Reich, whose signature style to create buildings on a grand scale. It's creepy.

Jude Law and Gwyneth Paltrow have no chemistry whatsoever, so the writer/director's attempts at creating 1930s-style comedy dialogue for them falls flatter than a pancake run over by a steamroller. (It wouldn't have worked much better if they did have chemistry as the "humor" is really feeble.)

Much has been written about the film's "look" but whatever was done technologically to create this post-modern art deco world has the effect of flattening out the actors' images. It looks like "Tron", except that the actors retain their skin color.

One thing really bothered me: if the film is set in March 1939, why are the protagonists talking about "the first world war"? No-one knew at the time that there was going to be a second world war, so people would hardly have referred to the Great War of 1914-18 as "the first world war", would they?

Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.

"Vanity Fair" begins very promisingly but after the delightful first half-hour, which sets up the many characters in a series of amusing scenes with a great deal of charm and bite reminiscent of "Gosford Park," the movie collapses under the weight of its intertwined story lines.

Julian Fellowes, who won an Oscar for his original screenplay for "Gosford Park," was brought in by Mira Nair to polish the script. But the unwieldiness of the story defeats him.

This is not a book that be whittled down into an audience-friendly two-and-a-bit hours. In order to do full justice to the characters, a "Masterpiece Theatre" serial is warranted. (In fact, "Vanity Fair" was serialized just six years ago for TV, curiously starring Natasha Little, who plays Becky Sharp's sister-in-law in this big screen version.)

This version jumps around all over the place. Leaps of time mean that the character development crafted in early scene flies out of the window for the sake of expedience. No-one ages except the young children, despite the story being set over two decades.

Reese Witherspoon, who is actually very good with a flawless English accent, looks the same playing 17 as she does playing 35.

Both Gabriel Byrne and Eileen Atkins wear wigs so black, they appear even older than they really are.

The actors are not at fault here. Apart from Geraldine McEwan, who is a tad over the top, they all give fine performances. Rhys Ifans is particularly touching in a role very different from the buffoon he usually plays.

It's a real shame that Mira Nair wasn't able to harness the spark of the movie's first half hour and sustain it for the rest of the movie. A great opportunity missed.

I was gladdened to read the many positive reviews of this movie on imdb. Based on the reviews, I was expecting a disappointing Tim Burton effort which gets bogged down in the Billy Crudup/Albert Finney sequences.

But this was one of my favorite films of the year. It's absolutely magical and very, very touching. I have a feeling that it will be reevaluated at a later date--possibly as soon as the video release--as an underappreciated masterpiece.

Albert Finney deserves an Academy Award nomination as Best Supporting Actor. He is so devilish and charming, and very funny. I'd also got the impression from reviews that Jessica Lange is underutilized by Burton but, in fact, she has a large, featured role in which she doesn't put a foot wrong. If anything, she's underutilized by filmmakers in general in that she doesn't appear in many movies these days, sad to say. She's a wonderful actress and the relationship between her and Albert Finney's character is very moving.

I loved this film and highly recommend it. Sometimes I wonder i the so-called "serious" reviewers don't just base their reviews on other writers' opinions. They got it very wrong this time.

The person who wrote the first review of this movie must be either a complete moron or has an acute lack of appreciation for what constitutes great moviemaking.

"Brief Encounter" is the perfect encapsulation of a very specific time in both women's and British history. The immediate post-WW 2 era in the UK was a period that saw Brits struggling with the disppearance of traditional social mores that had endured for over a century and the new world order that came about at the conclusion of the war. (For another, beautifully crafted cinematic example, see Neil Jordan's exquisite movie "The End of the Affair.")

Food rationing was still in place in postwar Britain. Women were having to deal with getting to know their menfolk again, after their years of absence at war. Like their American "Rosie the Riveter" counterparts, British women had enjoyed newfound and unfamiliar independence during wartime, working for the war effort. And, like their US "sisters", they were expected to relinquish those jobs to returning men.

"Brief Encounter" is, in many ways, a metaphor for the struggle that men and women were going through, stuck with having to conform to social expectations while bursting to escape to the greater independence glimpsed fleetingly and pleasurably during the war, when everything and everyone were turned upside down.

Being the work of Noel Coward, that master observer of and commentator on English manners, "Brief Encounter" frames this struggle as a torrid love story bubbling under the surface of British reserve, which demands maintaining appearances at all costs, regardless of the personal pain involved.

This passionate pair, who never even exchange a kiss, are constrained and ultimately kept apart by expectations--of their families, of their social positions, of Great Britain.

When Alec puts his hand on Laura's shoulder at their final, unexpectedly truncated meeting in the station snack bar/waiting room, it's as erotic and far more touching than just about every sex scene you'll see in movies.

The first reviewer completely missed the point and the relevance of this movie in film history and, especially, in British cinema history.

I don't know why some critics and imdb users have given this movie such a hard time. It's a little too long but definitely deserves to do far better at the box office.

"Shallow Hal" is a very sweet movie, and it has a lot of laughs. It's certainly not as crude as some of the Farrelly brothers' earlier efforts so maybe that's why some people have been disappointed.

But many of the brothers' usual off-kilter charms remain, including their idiosyncratic casting--the spina bifida guy, the scrawny nurse, tony "lurch" robbins, etc.

And Jack Black is so likable, even as a total jerk. I love Jason Alexander and he's very George Costanza-like here. As for that wig...hilarious. Good for "Dame" Gwyneth Paltrow for choosing this movie. She gets to show off her range here.

I am mystified as to why anyone would find this film offensive. Surely the fact that ultimately Jack sees Rosemary for who she truly is, and loves her, regardless of her weight, is what's important. Jack is depicted as the idiot for being so superficial.

Isn't judging people for who they really are, not what they look like, one of the goals of all those groups fighting for "fat acceptance"? If not, it should be. Their criticism of the film makes no sense.

In fact, I wish Peter and Bobby Farrelly had cut between the fat and thin Rosemarys and her mom, and the ugly/pretty women more often to show different people's points of view.

I really loved it that the Farrellys showed photos of all the crew members under the end titles. How appreciative is that?

When Chris Columbus was announced as the director of the Harry Potter movie adaptations, my heart sank. It was bad enough when Steven Spielberg--another horribly superficial director--was going to do them, but Chris Columbus?!

Somehow, Columbus and Steve Kloves, the writer, have managed to totally miss what made the Harry Potter books so appealing. Very little of their charm and none of their wit survived the transition to the big screen.

It must have taken a Herculean effort by Columbus and Kloves to drain this wonderfully imaginative book of every ounce of what made it magical.

There is no sense at all of what makes Harry so special. Part of the fault for this major shortcoming rests with the kid playing Harry. He is not a novice performer but nevertheless can't act. Cast members such as Fiona Shaw, the great Irish stage actress, was given ONE speech as Harry's aunt. And what about the gloriously expressive Julie Walters? Reduced to little more than a walk on part.

Regardless of the size of their roles in the sequel, they were underused in this first movie. And John Cleese was horrible. I hope he's sitting back in Santa Barbara home and laughing at how much he got paid for phoning in this embarrassing performance.

Was that really Alan Rickman mugging and overacting as Professor Snape or Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails? I love Maggie Smith but she's too old for Professor McGonagall.

As the writer, Kloves must also shoulder some of the responsibility. But Columbus is the real culprit here. Like Spielberg, Penny Marshall and Ron Howard, Chris Columbus does not trust his audience.

He feels he must telegraph every emotion and manipulate us with innumerable reaction shots and, even worse, John Williams' horribly overblown music. Can Williams please do us a favor and stop writing film scores and concentrate on the Boston Pops? He doesn't know the meaning of the word "subtle."

The constant cutting away to reaction shots--of awe and wonder-- were beyond irritating. And surely Hagrid has enough personality without Kloves having to give him his own special catchphrase ("I shouldn't have said that") to repeat and repeat and repeat ad infinitum?

As a fan of the books, for me this film was disastrous. It is upsetting to think something that means a lot to so many people was summarily handed over to someone with the depth of a piece of tissue paper.

By trying to please everyone, Columbus, Kloves, the producers and Warner Bros. have really ended up pleasing no-one--except perhaps J.K. Rowling's bank manager.

Harry Potter fans would have been better served by a multi-part, high class TV adaptation than this mess.

"High Tide" is one of the greatest movies most people haven't seen. If you just read a plot summary, the story may seem unbelievable. But thanks to writing, acting, directing and music scoring of the highest caliber, this film works on every level. According to director Gillian Armstrong, the role played by Judy Davis was originally written for a man. But Armstrong's husband suggested rewriting it for a woman. Davis gives one of her best performances in "High Tide," and that's saying something for such an accomplished actress. Physically she is a very mannered performer, reminiscent of such great actresses of the 1930s and '40s as Bette Davis and Katharine Hepburn. But Davis is also incredibly subtle. Just watch her face and you can see every thought process, every emotion. Davis' performance was helped tremendously by Gillian Armstrong, who is not afraid of lingering on a closeup way beyond when lesser directors would have cut away. It's one of her greatest strengths as a director. She allows a scene to play out. Nothing is rushed so everything unfolds naturally, helps add to the realism of "High Tide." (She does the same thing in "The Last Days of Chez Nous," another of her best efforts.) This is a movie to be cherished. It's an object lesson to mainstream Hollywood on how to turn what could have been a sappy, cliched movie into a moving work of art.