In all, I’m glad that conservatives are starting to make more movies, for they only help prove that art is best left to those with a sense of style.
Jesus H. Christ in a Deep Fryer, Tom Cruise’s character is named Cole Trickle!
We just get shortchanged by what could have been a really fine film.
One of the least competent documentaries ever made, Tim Chey’s Impact: The Passion of the Christ would be deeply troubling if it weren’t so damn pathetic.
Who scooped Gary Webb? Steven Seagal! STEVAN SEAGAL!
What can be said about a film that features a shuddering, sweaty, naked man before the opening credits are even finished?
Feeling very much like an X-Files episode writ large for the big screen, The Forgotten is forty-five minutes too long and all too easily forgotten.
How much of the film is art and how much is some Euro realizing he can make a name for himself by throwing a couple of schlongs on the screen?
Joining Van Damme in the gay parade are gang members who wear mink stoles, sleeveless vests, and more glaze than J.C. himself.
And what about the violence? Interestingly, it is both cathartic and orgasmic.