I saw this film on the weekend after Donald Trump was elected President of the United States. The Donald as the commander-in-chief of the most powerful military in the world is not a comforting thought.
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Enchanted by The Hunt for the Wilderpeople, I rented Taika Waititi’s earlier film Boy. It is not as mesmerizing as the The Hunt but it still a tour de force of creativity.
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I did not jump onto this train voluntarily. I was dragged on it. After watching it, I can at least confirm that the low IMDB rating is right on target. Now the most interesting question is why would this book become a bestseller? I suspect because it allows women to feel victims of their controlling husbands. This film will not withstand the test of time. In 100 years—I confidently predict—it will be completely forgotten.
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Once in a while one comes across a film that is very special. Hunt for the Wilderpeople should clearly be on your list of must-see film.
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On a recent plane ride, I watched three films. Demolition, Mr. Right, Everybody Wants Some. Demolition was the best among the three. It tells the story of a hardworking man on Wall Street who on his way to work into the city has car crash in which his wife is killed. As he is mourning his wife’s death, he is learning that his wife unbeknownst to him was not happy in their relationship. He now starts to demolish his old life to find out why.
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A couple of months ago, I watched the documentary on Jimi Hendrix Hear my Train Coming. Starting in his teenage years, Jimi was only interested in two things: his guitar and women with music clearly in first place. The film draws much on live performances where the genius of Hendrix becomes very clear. At the end of the film, we learn that the estate of Jimi Hendrix “commissioned” the documentary. Only then did it become clear that we are watching a sanitized version of Hendrix’s life. The man died from a drug overdose. But in an effort make Jimi appear as likable and charming as possible and increase for his estate sales from his music his death is portrayed more as an accident of someone how dabbled a bit in drugs. Miles Ahead takes a very different approach.
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I laughed tears on during the original My Fat Greek Wedding. The sequel is not nearly as funny. From the beginning, you wonder whose wedding it will be this time. First it seems, grandpa might get his way and the 17-year-old granddaughter is getting married a tiny bit early. But then the film wonders in different directions. It becomes more a meditation on family life, getting older and the difficulty of keeping romance in marriage. Perhaps Mia Vardalos (director and lead) on purpose made this film not as funny as the first one.
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