Two Thumbs Down

Oh, Disney. Via The Chicago Tribune: Chicago Sun-Times movie critic Roger Ebert and columnist Richard Roeper are cutting ties with the TV franchise that Disney-ABC Domestic Television has syndicated nationally for 22 years. Continue reading 

The Bright, Money-Making Night

So The Dark Knight Returns (damn, that’s a hard habit to break) made $18 million from midnight showings last night — er, this morning. That’s a lot of dollars. That’s more than some movies I could name made in their entire opening weekends. … and that’s all I’ve got. Until tomorrow, at least. Trying to hide from all the reviews out there gets more difficult by the minute. Continue reading 

‘Hellboy II’: Looks Damn Nifty

So Hellboy II: The Golden Army was entertaining, but not quite the rapturous comic-book movie experience I was hoping for. It just … missed a few turns on the narrative turnpike. But you know what was rapturously cool about it? The creatures. Which really should come as no surprise to anyone who saw Pan’s Labyrinth. Continue reading 

More Brilliance From WhedonWorld

So, as we all know (right?), brilliant Buffy creator Joss Whedon has a new show in the works: Dollhouse, which I believe is scheduled to debut mid-season, in early 2009. (Do take a peek at BoingBoing’s take on Whedon fans’ nervousness re: its cancellation chances). A while back I posted a link to the Dollhouse trailer, and I do repeat myself here, but still: AWESOME. Continue reading 

Portland: You’re Failing Me

So, yes, I strongly dislike the book Twilight, even though I couldn’t be spoken to while I read it; it’s one of those Pringles books that’s terrible for you (does the world need any more impossibly-perfect heroines who can’t do a damn thing for themselves?) and impossible to stop reading. BUT. I have a weakness for poor doomed (please, we are so out of spoiler territory on this one) Hogwarts student Cedric Diggory. Continue reading 

Could You Describe the Ruckus, Sir?

True Story*: Several (OK, six) years ago when I was still living in New York, I went out a couple of times with a fellow who knew another Molly. Yeah, that one. The Ringwald. This was a source of awe and wonder, of course, but I tried not to bring it up; that would be, like, dorky of me. Still, there came an evening when this fellow called me from a party at That Molly’s house. There is no post-teenage shock like seeing RINGWALD, MOLLY on your caller ID. Did I take a picture? You bet your DVD of The Breakfast Club I did. Continue reading