bluntrvw
Joined May 2000
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bluntrvw's rating
Just as the Chianti jokes have died down, and the ominous slurping sounds friends repeatedly left on your answering machines have ceased, the amiable doctor returns. And what extremely patient little human appetizers we all have been, awaiting to see what Herr Doctor Hannibal Lecter would serve up for us in his Silence of the Lambs sequel...
Hannibal doesn't disappoint. I know people are already whining it's not as scary as the first...well, that's true. How could it be? Partly because we already know what's in store for us with the intellectual ripper, and partly because we are so desensitized to the whole genre these days...But, I assure you several scenes in this deliciously tasty horror will have you squirming in your seat and covering your eyes in the armpit of your companion for fear of "seeing to much."
Blunt Hint: Be sure to pack your MPB (Movie Puke Bag) for the final scenes-you're gonna need it!
Hannibal's story goes...Clarice (Julianne "I saw Ralph Fiennes naked--I really did!" Moore) has heard from Hannibal, again. He's sending little notes- just to say "told you so" Seems Clarice has had a bit of trouble in her post at the FBI and she's about to be served up to the press as a sacrificial lamb if you will... Hanny just wants her to know he's there for her.
Clarice's slithering boss Paul (Ray "I don't wanna freakin' talk about GoodFellas Okay!!!" Liotta) Krendler is incahoots with someone hell bent on "getting" to Clarice. Get Clarice, get Hannibal...
At least that's what Paul's evil puppeteer, Mason ( Gary "as sicko as ever" Oldman) Verger reckons. Mason's setting an elaborate trap for poor totally suspecting Hannibal.
Mason was Hannibal's fourth victim and only survivor...Of course survivor is a strong word. Mason is too vile a human to feel an ounce of semi-bad for . He's a raping pedophile Hannibal had been court appointed to. Hanny was actually doing the world a favor -attempting- to rid the earth of this heinous man. But he failed, and it's now Mason's life mission to hunt down Lecter at any cost and produce a human haggis (of sorts) from the man. And Hannibal's the deranged one...
This Mason guy oozes with a particularly strong scent of Eau de Creepay folks! Think, quintessential Boogie Man. Sleeping is going to be tough this week.
What's this Mason ? Hannibal has been found? Thanks to his peculiar tastes in hand creme? In Florence? A semi-crooked cop Pazzi (Italian favorite Giancarlo Giannini) has managed to parlay a true matching (17 points) finger print off the old boy and tip of the angry fetus faced victim.
You wanna take on Hannibal do you Mason? Okeedoekee, he's coming out of hibernation.
Ah, but just who's hunting whom? Hmm? And dear Clarice has always held a very special part of Hannibal's heart...Will he come to rescue her from her awful ongoing scandal? Mmm, could be.
Having read the book, I will say, I found the David Mamet script's ending much better. An ending you'll have to see for yourself.
Ray Liotta, who is looking extremely handsome these days, plays the sexist Paul Krendler, crooked FBI guy, purrfectly. His final scenes will go down in the history books of horror as some of the most repulsive special effects frames ever preserved onto film- too bold a statement- see Hannibal and get back to me... Since the "work" on Ray's face he's become a a double order of properly seasoned manbeef. Scrumptious!
Gary Oldman is barely recognizable here. Argh. But, even under all his makeup the actor shines through. Gar's done some fascinating- albeit whacko -work. If, for some ungodly reason, you're not familiar with him go here, rent Sid and Nancy and then peruse from there - a must see actor...Enjoy.
Julianne Moore did an admirable job in the shoes of Clarice. She had that same gollygee- I'm an officer- and just gonna go by the book sir- at what ever cost, attitude Jodi Foster brought to the original role. Her accent wasn't as Holly Hunter annoying either. Admittedly the new Clarice was disturbing for the beginning of the film, in a switching of the Bewitched Darrin's way- you know that unsettling feeling one gets when a major character in the story is suddenly not the same- except no one in the story seems to notice? Of course we were all ready for this rude switch-a-roo as the press made such a stinkfest over Foster poo-pooeing a reprise of her role. Julianne did just fine. Check out End of the Affair for more Julianne in action-and of course Ralph Fiennes' naked.
Finally there's our scene and liver stealer, Hannibal...The Sir Anthony Hopkins. There are a handful of sexy older actors...Tommy Lee Jones, Sean Connery, Jack Nicolson, Brian Dennehy and Mr Hopkins. With Hopkins it's all in his brilliant eyes. Though he's probably best known as Hannibal, Hopkins is a consummate actor as comfortable in the role of the human steak connoisseur madman, as playing a writer destined to pen a child's classic (C.S. Lewis) or beneath some make-up in a quality version of Quasimodo. Versatility and talent wrapped in a nice sturdy package of manyum.
Okeedokee. Get out and see this. Hannibal is one crispy kidney of a sequel with some tasty morbid bits to keep you engrossed in epicurean conversation for months to come. The way a real horror movie should!
Snack Recommendation: Braised Bolognese Belly, Ray Style Sweetbreads, of course, chilled Chianti served in crystal flutes.
Hannibal doesn't disappoint. I know people are already whining it's not as scary as the first...well, that's true. How could it be? Partly because we already know what's in store for us with the intellectual ripper, and partly because we are so desensitized to the whole genre these days...But, I assure you several scenes in this deliciously tasty horror will have you squirming in your seat and covering your eyes in the armpit of your companion for fear of "seeing to much."
Blunt Hint: Be sure to pack your MPB (Movie Puke Bag) for the final scenes-you're gonna need it!
Hannibal's story goes...Clarice (Julianne "I saw Ralph Fiennes naked--I really did!" Moore) has heard from Hannibal, again. He's sending little notes- just to say "told you so" Seems Clarice has had a bit of trouble in her post at the FBI and she's about to be served up to the press as a sacrificial lamb if you will... Hanny just wants her to know he's there for her.
Clarice's slithering boss Paul (Ray "I don't wanna freakin' talk about GoodFellas Okay!!!" Liotta) Krendler is incahoots with someone hell bent on "getting" to Clarice. Get Clarice, get Hannibal...
At least that's what Paul's evil puppeteer, Mason ( Gary "as sicko as ever" Oldman) Verger reckons. Mason's setting an elaborate trap for poor totally suspecting Hannibal.
Mason was Hannibal's fourth victim and only survivor...Of course survivor is a strong word. Mason is too vile a human to feel an ounce of semi-bad for . He's a raping pedophile Hannibal had been court appointed to. Hanny was actually doing the world a favor -attempting- to rid the earth of this heinous man. But he failed, and it's now Mason's life mission to hunt down Lecter at any cost and produce a human haggis (of sorts) from the man. And Hannibal's the deranged one...
This Mason guy oozes with a particularly strong scent of Eau de Creepay folks! Think, quintessential Boogie Man. Sleeping is going to be tough this week.
What's this Mason ? Hannibal has been found? Thanks to his peculiar tastes in hand creme? In Florence? A semi-crooked cop Pazzi (Italian favorite Giancarlo Giannini) has managed to parlay a true matching (17 points) finger print off the old boy and tip of the angry fetus faced victim.
You wanna take on Hannibal do you Mason? Okeedoekee, he's coming out of hibernation.
Ah, but just who's hunting whom? Hmm? And dear Clarice has always held a very special part of Hannibal's heart...Will he come to rescue her from her awful ongoing scandal? Mmm, could be.
Having read the book, I will say, I found the David Mamet script's ending much better. An ending you'll have to see for yourself.
Ray Liotta, who is looking extremely handsome these days, plays the sexist Paul Krendler, crooked FBI guy, purrfectly. His final scenes will go down in the history books of horror as some of the most repulsive special effects frames ever preserved onto film- too bold a statement- see Hannibal and get back to me... Since the "work" on Ray's face he's become a a double order of properly seasoned manbeef. Scrumptious!
Gary Oldman is barely recognizable here. Argh. But, even under all his makeup the actor shines through. Gar's done some fascinating- albeit whacko -work. If, for some ungodly reason, you're not familiar with him go here, rent Sid and Nancy and then peruse from there - a must see actor...Enjoy.
Julianne Moore did an admirable job in the shoes of Clarice. She had that same gollygee- I'm an officer- and just gonna go by the book sir- at what ever cost, attitude Jodi Foster brought to the original role. Her accent wasn't as Holly Hunter annoying either. Admittedly the new Clarice was disturbing for the beginning of the film, in a switching of the Bewitched Darrin's way- you know that unsettling feeling one gets when a major character in the story is suddenly not the same- except no one in the story seems to notice? Of course we were all ready for this rude switch-a-roo as the press made such a stinkfest over Foster poo-pooeing a reprise of her role. Julianne did just fine. Check out End of the Affair for more Julianne in action-and of course Ralph Fiennes' naked.
Finally there's our scene and liver stealer, Hannibal...The Sir Anthony Hopkins. There are a handful of sexy older actors...Tommy Lee Jones, Sean Connery, Jack Nicolson, Brian Dennehy and Mr Hopkins. With Hopkins it's all in his brilliant eyes. Though he's probably best known as Hannibal, Hopkins is a consummate actor as comfortable in the role of the human steak connoisseur madman, as playing a writer destined to pen a child's classic (C.S. Lewis) or beneath some make-up in a quality version of Quasimodo. Versatility and talent wrapped in a nice sturdy package of manyum.
Okeedokee. Get out and see this. Hannibal is one crispy kidney of a sequel with some tasty morbid bits to keep you engrossed in epicurean conversation for months to come. The way a real horror movie should!
Snack Recommendation: Braised Bolognese Belly, Ray Style Sweetbreads, of course, chilled Chianti served in crystal flutes.
Of course hearing the movie's star was none other that that man size portion of beefcake (extra rare), Angel, er, David Boreanaz, I nearly trampled over several tiny girly high school students to to get my "reserved" third row center seat. Boy was I disappointed! Argh.
I know every young starlet, babe or beau, wants to get involved with the next Scream series or a neu-Halloween even. But, they dropped the script on this lame-o-rama piece of cinema' parasiticpoopkuck.
We, the starry eyed audience, tried so hard to get into the swing of things. We all jumped on the director's staged commands, and mock-gasped with every gory death scene served up to us like carnival help.
But an antique oxcart from central Costa Rica moves faster then this boring uninteresting waste of a perfectly good evening- believe you me.
Valentine's story goes...Four (five if you count victim one-the appetizer slaughter) female childhood friends, who were cruel to a young male nerdfest squared classmate named Jeremy, in the 6th grade, have all grown up now. The women are still not really nice. None are very bright, clever, moral, or quite frankly interesting people. Personality disorders aside, the story moves slowly (<- visual-> a sloth on a lazy day) forward. When the felines start to get death threat's via Valentine's Day cards- for NO APPARENT reason- they get a little frightened. Then they put one and four together and slowly (an all too recurring adjective in this film) figure it must be this boy they were so cruel to as cruel children. That and the signature, Jeremy Melten, signed on the sympathy card at the first victim's house and each of their creepy Valentine's Day cards initials, JM, match .
Who's the killer? Hmm. Is it the weirdo guy the director wants us to think it is?...Nah. Is it the handsome if a bit dull boyfriend Adam (Angel, er Boreanaz)?...Nah. Is it the sexist detective?...Nah. Who-who could it be???? Why's this guy so pissed thirteen years later?????? Give us a bone...something to sink our inquisitive teeth into amonst all the slashing eh?
Shame on Denise Richards for doing this! She's been so fun to watch in the past. I adored that campy cheesy Drop Dead Gorgeous! I hope she makes better choices in the future.
Marley Shelton is in theater 2 with the very funny Sugar & Spice. Go see that instead! She wonderful and refreshing there!
Then there's Mr. Attractive. The man responsible for myself and an audience of panting under aged- silver mouthed-Aguilerra look alikes even wanting to endure this piece of...David Boraxeanzo. He plays that vampire Angel. The dark, deep, tall, broad shouldered ex- boyfriend of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He's great on his show- of course he doesn't have to say all that much and is usually upset and brooding-an automatic sexual devise for women of all ages. Ihope this movie isn't the ghost of Christmas future for the man...
If you ask me the cast didn't die fast enough! I ate like a wild tribal outcast from Survivor 2 the whole way through this. Then I snuck into Traffic for the last 20 minutes just to shake off the bitter hate I had for this awful movie. Say, I've got a Valentine for you:
Roses are red, Violets are blue, don't you dare waste your money in this movie too!
I know every young starlet, babe or beau, wants to get involved with the next Scream series or a neu-Halloween even. But, they dropped the script on this lame-o-rama piece of cinema' parasiticpoopkuck.
We, the starry eyed audience, tried so hard to get into the swing of things. We all jumped on the director's staged commands, and mock-gasped with every gory death scene served up to us like carnival help.
But an antique oxcart from central Costa Rica moves faster then this boring uninteresting waste of a perfectly good evening- believe you me.
Valentine's story goes...Four (five if you count victim one-the appetizer slaughter) female childhood friends, who were cruel to a young male nerdfest squared classmate named Jeremy, in the 6th grade, have all grown up now. The women are still not really nice. None are very bright, clever, moral, or quite frankly interesting people. Personality disorders aside, the story moves slowly (<- visual-> a sloth on a lazy day) forward. When the felines start to get death threat's via Valentine's Day cards- for NO APPARENT reason- they get a little frightened. Then they put one and four together and slowly (an all too recurring adjective in this film) figure it must be this boy they were so cruel to as cruel children. That and the signature, Jeremy Melten, signed on the sympathy card at the first victim's house and each of their creepy Valentine's Day cards initials, JM, match .
Who's the killer? Hmm. Is it the weirdo guy the director wants us to think it is?...Nah. Is it the handsome if a bit dull boyfriend Adam (Angel, er Boreanaz)?...Nah. Is it the sexist detective?...Nah. Who-who could it be???? Why's this guy so pissed thirteen years later?????? Give us a bone...something to sink our inquisitive teeth into amonst all the slashing eh?
Shame on Denise Richards for doing this! She's been so fun to watch in the past. I adored that campy cheesy Drop Dead Gorgeous! I hope she makes better choices in the future.
Marley Shelton is in theater 2 with the very funny Sugar & Spice. Go see that instead! She wonderful and refreshing there!
Then there's Mr. Attractive. The man responsible for myself and an audience of panting under aged- silver mouthed-Aguilerra look alikes even wanting to endure this piece of...David Boraxeanzo. He plays that vampire Angel. The dark, deep, tall, broad shouldered ex- boyfriend of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He's great on his show- of course he doesn't have to say all that much and is usually upset and brooding-an automatic sexual devise for women of all ages. Ihope this movie isn't the ghost of Christmas future for the man...
If you ask me the cast didn't die fast enough! I ate like a wild tribal outcast from Survivor 2 the whole way through this. Then I snuck into Traffic for the last 20 minutes just to shake off the bitter hate I had for this awful movie. Say, I've got a Valentine for you:
Roses are red, Violets are blue, don't you dare waste your money in this movie too!
Traffic is like a cinematic nesting doll. Each scene introduces another deeper scene with an even more fascinating character. Each of these startlingly realistic people is then portrayed by riveting actor after riveting actor. What a great movie.
Now at over two hours of evolving plot scenarios of each story-ette, you'll feel, at times, a tad sedated. In fact, a primetime- drug documentary-when's- it -gonna-end fog may overcome you, but stick with it. Traffic has many subtle rewards.
As each layer peels into the next, god-like director, Steven (the hits just keep-a -comin) Soderbergh's, unique if sometimes off style-approach draws you in deeper and deeper- like an addiction. The players are so three-dimensional that it's more like voyeurism or a twisted version of Real World than a scripted film.
Story goes...Mexican cop Javier Rodriguez Rodriguez (Benicio "I'm here baby" Del Toro) is starting to feel a touch of corruption flowing like soft-serve ice cream, stuck on serve, into his hometown (that hot, broke, tattling town-o-tourists mecca, Tijuana). The two top Mexie drug cartels are warring against each other for control of Baja California. Who can he trust? Who's on the take? Who works for whom? Who's out for his full order of nachos supreme? Everyone it seems.
Then the movie shows us interwoven lives-lives connected in different parts of Mexico and America, all with the common element of drug trafficking. And how the trafficking it is affecting each of their lives.
Cut To: A spoiled housewife, Helena Ayala ( A very pregnant Catherine "Oy, my achin' freakin' back-can you be a doll and get me a double corned beef sandwich from the catering table" Zeta-Jones) discovers her husband's line of business is not all Krispy Kreme & Starbucks Coffee portfolio choices. She's faced with all the ugly laundered truths. Her husband has been arrested. Appears he's a big quasi Escobar wannabe. Upon the news of his arrest, her hoity toity-Rodeo Drive shopping-Louis Vitton designed- SUV- driving friends become (surprise) fair weather conversation snorters and desert her faster then liposuction takes away those multiple canapés and Chateaubriands of the holidays... And her biggest blow? Credit card after credit card is gone- even her beloved Macy's card had been revoked! What's a girl to do? Forget the father of her children and take in his consigliary Arnie (Dennis "I'm sorry, Meg who?" Quaid)? Get a minimum wage job at the Piggly Wiggly baggin' her exfriend's Deli style cappacio and lead-free mineral water? Or buck up and learn the trafficking biz? Hmm, maybe.
Cut To: An Ohio mansion filled with ivy league-ettes snorting and cooking varieties of blow, pubescent style fu**ing and top shelf drink swillin'. One of the debutante druggies, Caroline ( Erika Christensen), is the daughter of the newly appointed US drug czar Robert Wakefield (Michael "Sure, I'm Nostferatu-ing facially, but I still got a hot cuchiass" Douglas). Daddy's got a colossal case of denial and daughter's got a big old case of the Shanghai shakes. Heroin will do that to a gal, I'm told.
Cut To: The noble law enforcers who battle the revolving-door judicial system. Day in, day out, these guys play catch and release, like a bad cable fishing show... Officers Gordon (Don "Megatalent" Cheadle) and Castro ( Luiz -you'll recognize him instantly- Guzman). They bust Ms. Country Club Helena's husband's affiliate and the drug ring circus begins. Creepy hitmen show up. Wire taps are put in strange places.
The stories connect and continually intertwine till each reveals its plot.
Let's talk talented salsa beefcake for a moment...Benicio Del Toro, a pet actor/mansteak here at Blunt Review, will be up for awards galore if I make my guess. What a brilliant actor. Okay, he's a bit chimichanga- with- a- side- of refried beans- porked out in this...But so was Kevin Spacey circa 1990, before GQ got a hold of him. Hollywood will reshape and remold him into their next leading man. Ben will have trainers and stylists, and, by this time next year, he will look like a neuAnglo-Armani wearing- pugilist - manmeat portion of Antonio Banderas with darker circles under his eyes. For now, Del Toro is still a bit shaggy-edged, a touch smelly looking-and shines for it. He was in the semi-sleeper Way of the Gun. And he's in two other flicks presently, Snatch and The Pledge. Bennie also sits in everyone's video collection in Usual Suspects-yep, the garbling oddity, Fenster. Wanna know more of his impeccable work? Click here for full details. (I keep hearing that song, El Matador, when I see this big beautiful guy...)
Sadly, it would take about eight thousand words to give each actor his due here. Simply, see this movie. It's not for everyone. It's realistic and at times overtly blunt in its drug scene portrayals- be warned NSYNC fans. Traffic is a true film lover's film. Intelligent, well acted and unique.
Film and acting students will be viewing this one for years to come. No Hollywood formula here kiddies! Enjoy.
Now at over two hours of evolving plot scenarios of each story-ette, you'll feel, at times, a tad sedated. In fact, a primetime- drug documentary-when's- it -gonna-end fog may overcome you, but stick with it. Traffic has many subtle rewards.
As each layer peels into the next, god-like director, Steven (the hits just keep-a -comin) Soderbergh's, unique if sometimes off style-approach draws you in deeper and deeper- like an addiction. The players are so three-dimensional that it's more like voyeurism or a twisted version of Real World than a scripted film.
Story goes...Mexican cop Javier Rodriguez Rodriguez (Benicio "I'm here baby" Del Toro) is starting to feel a touch of corruption flowing like soft-serve ice cream, stuck on serve, into his hometown (that hot, broke, tattling town-o-tourists mecca, Tijuana). The two top Mexie drug cartels are warring against each other for control of Baja California. Who can he trust? Who's on the take? Who works for whom? Who's out for his full order of nachos supreme? Everyone it seems.
Then the movie shows us interwoven lives-lives connected in different parts of Mexico and America, all with the common element of drug trafficking. And how the trafficking it is affecting each of their lives.
Cut To: A spoiled housewife, Helena Ayala ( A very pregnant Catherine "Oy, my achin' freakin' back-can you be a doll and get me a double corned beef sandwich from the catering table" Zeta-Jones) discovers her husband's line of business is not all Krispy Kreme & Starbucks Coffee portfolio choices. She's faced with all the ugly laundered truths. Her husband has been arrested. Appears he's a big quasi Escobar wannabe. Upon the news of his arrest, her hoity toity-Rodeo Drive shopping-Louis Vitton designed- SUV- driving friends become (surprise) fair weather conversation snorters and desert her faster then liposuction takes away those multiple canapés and Chateaubriands of the holidays... And her biggest blow? Credit card after credit card is gone- even her beloved Macy's card had been revoked! What's a girl to do? Forget the father of her children and take in his consigliary Arnie (Dennis "I'm sorry, Meg who?" Quaid)? Get a minimum wage job at the Piggly Wiggly baggin' her exfriend's Deli style cappacio and lead-free mineral water? Or buck up and learn the trafficking biz? Hmm, maybe.
Cut To: An Ohio mansion filled with ivy league-ettes snorting and cooking varieties of blow, pubescent style fu**ing and top shelf drink swillin'. One of the debutante druggies, Caroline ( Erika Christensen), is the daughter of the newly appointed US drug czar Robert Wakefield (Michael "Sure, I'm Nostferatu-ing facially, but I still got a hot cuchiass" Douglas). Daddy's got a colossal case of denial and daughter's got a big old case of the Shanghai shakes. Heroin will do that to a gal, I'm told.
Cut To: The noble law enforcers who battle the revolving-door judicial system. Day in, day out, these guys play catch and release, like a bad cable fishing show... Officers Gordon (Don "Megatalent" Cheadle) and Castro ( Luiz -you'll recognize him instantly- Guzman). They bust Ms. Country Club Helena's husband's affiliate and the drug ring circus begins. Creepy hitmen show up. Wire taps are put in strange places.
The stories connect and continually intertwine till each reveals its plot.
Let's talk talented salsa beefcake for a moment...Benicio Del Toro, a pet actor/mansteak here at Blunt Review, will be up for awards galore if I make my guess. What a brilliant actor. Okay, he's a bit chimichanga- with- a- side- of refried beans- porked out in this...But so was Kevin Spacey circa 1990, before GQ got a hold of him. Hollywood will reshape and remold him into their next leading man. Ben will have trainers and stylists, and, by this time next year, he will look like a neuAnglo-Armani wearing- pugilist - manmeat portion of Antonio Banderas with darker circles under his eyes. For now, Del Toro is still a bit shaggy-edged, a touch smelly looking-and shines for it. He was in the semi-sleeper Way of the Gun. And he's in two other flicks presently, Snatch and The Pledge. Bennie also sits in everyone's video collection in Usual Suspects-yep, the garbling oddity, Fenster. Wanna know more of his impeccable work? Click here for full details. (I keep hearing that song, El Matador, when I see this big beautiful guy...)
Sadly, it would take about eight thousand words to give each actor his due here. Simply, see this movie. It's not for everyone. It's realistic and at times overtly blunt in its drug scene portrayals- be warned NSYNC fans. Traffic is a true film lover's film. Intelligent, well acted and unique.
Film and acting students will be viewing this one for years to come. No Hollywood formula here kiddies! Enjoy.