The Beat That My Heart Skipped
It's a shame that a film this
good should have such a dumb title, I mean, how are you going to recommend it to your friends? "Would you like to go and see that Heart my Skip Fucked?" I don't think so.
Apart from the mensa-examination name, I thought it was fantastic. It's like Mean Streets with piano playing in it. Romain Duris has a bit of a Liam Gallagher monobrow going on, but the young De Niro comparisons are also inevitable. The fat bloke who plays his dad is very good, too. It's not really a thriller, because there's too much human interest in it. It's more like an incredibly intense drama.
Aside from the terrific performances, I enjoyed this film because it doesn't lecture to the peanut gallery, and you can never be sure where it's going. Even when the froggy De Niro's heading off for his big audition, you don't know what's going to happen. In an American movie, you know that a Seemingly Insurmountable Obstacle would arise, and he would Manage to Overcome It at the Last Moment When it Seemed all Hope Was Gone. But that doesn't happen here, so the developments are genuinely interesting. I reckon this is the best movie that I've seen this year, apart from Sideways.
The Longest Yard
I watched this movie on the plane as well, it's pretty
good for a remake of a Vinny Jones film. It's completely mindless, and Adam Sandler does appear to believe that he's starring in an Ibsen biopic. I was a bit worried because American Football is the most piss-boring sport in the world, and if you took all the dull bits out, the film might shrivel up like a testicle in an oven. But it's quite entertaining, in the way that a kung fu flick starring steroid-freaks might be.
I watched it all the way through, played Tetris for a while and then the plane landed. So it's got to be worth a
good rating.
The last 10 minutes or so are a hymn to the redemptive power of sports, though, and are consequently awful. And Chris Rock must have had one hell of a contract dispute with them, he has a bizarre non-sequitur body-double death, rivalled only by the weirdo demise of Stephen Seagal in Executive Decision (oh look, the fat man's dead).
I only hope this movie doesn't prolong the acting career of Brian Bosworth, and if you know who I am talking about, shame on you.
Mr and Mrs Smith
I am sorry but I'll need a bit of context to explain how
dogshit this movie is. I'd been climbing in the Himalayas with a group of hairy lads and was in a state of utmost lady-deprivation; no women for a month. The thought of a finely-shaped ankle got me a bit giddy towards the end. Let alone a glimpse of knee. So, when I got on the plane on the way back, and this movie was playing, I sensed an opportunity for a bit of an illicit thrill. Because Angelina Jolie, the crack cocaine of femininity, was in it. Or I'm sure I could have fantasised about Brad Pitt, he's pretty enough.
Well, I could only watch about 15 minutes of it, it was so fucking awful. Normally I watch all of the movies I review on this site, but I need to make an exception here.
