Posts Tagged ‘Film Review’

How to Train Your Dragon

March 31, 2010

Rousing. Like ET in some ways.

I rose from my seat, slow, deliberate. I moved outside, my head in a fog and can hardly remember my walk from the theatre to the train station, except for seeing a billboard high above the Hollywood city streets with a young man riding atop a dragon as they burst through a circle of fire with the title scrawled above it How to Train Your Dragon.

It’s true. I have an affinity for fantasy, but a very grounded fantasy. Rules have to exist as do emotions. Simply because you carry a sword and wear a loin cloth doesn’t mean I’m automatically going to love you. In fact, I love fantasy so much, it has to work even harder to impress me. I feel that I can continue now with this review with absolute sincerity.

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Hamlet 2: The Christ of Art

September 11, 2008
What art is made of.

What would you do for your art?

Dana Marschz is pronounced Marsch-z (the “z” an additional emphasis beyond the “sch”) and is one of a number of things that makes the main character of Hamlet 2 that much more awkward and potentially tragic. As he even whines, “My life is a parody of a tragedy”. In fact the position Dana finds himself in is a pretty common tale for those that come to Los Angeles looking to become an actor. Their pride is stripped from them completely and they become emotionally erratic and completely insecure individuals…sometimes they never regain that composure because they don’t know how to refocus their creative and scarred sides into something healthy.

And so we follow Dana on his personal odyssey as he seeks to regain his inner strength and voice by creating an original work for a group of high school students. And quite an odyssey it is. Pam Brady (a South Park writer alum and Team America: World Police scribe) along with Andrew Fleming (the director of a nice little gem Dick and other lesser films) have created a concoction and character that’s so awkward that it’s hilarious, but then it stops being funny and becomes so very, incredibly awkward that it becomes honest. It’s like staring at a freshly opened wound.

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