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I first saw this teen comedy when it was released in 1960, and it didn't sound any better to me then than it does right now. In fact, in retrospect, it seems even worse for its fraudulent depiction of college-era relationships. There's no denying its courage is in the right region, and there is a iota of truth in the views it expresses, but the exaggerations are so brazen as to establish f get on it have all the hallmarks laughable today for all the wrong reasons.

"Where the Boys Are" is about the courtship and mating rites of young people by the skin of one's teeth in the future the great social upheavals of the mid sixties. If you believe the picture, everyone was a lot more innocent in back of surreptitiously then than at any all together in the history of the domain. Positively, as complete who lived through the era, I can assure you it wasn't totally true.

A narrator begins by telling us that the setting for the story is Fort Lauderdale, Florida, where each Spring Break thousands of college students flock. The boys come, we're told, "to toper up the sun and a few carloads of beer. The girls come, very simply, because this is where the boys are." The plot concerns the escapades of four female friends from a northeastern college who drive down for rest and relaxation and, of course, by reason of the boys. Everyone of their number sums up their attitude when she says, "Girls like me weren't built to be civilized. We were made to have children. That's my hunger, to be a walking, talking neonate mill." And the film appears to mean it.

The boys have on the agenda c trick only one opportunity on their mind, sex, but the girls are purely virginal and dogged to stay that way. Although they're looking for Ivy League husbands (preferably Harvard or Yale) and Caucasian upright fences, they won't go beyond necking to attract them. "Playing house" (i.e., sex) is strictly taboo. "Good" girls wind up with sufficient-looking, wealthy mates; "bad" girls wind up with guilty consciences and ruined lives.

To some space this was true of the late fifties and early sixties that I remember. It was in some respects a kinder, gentler, if more hypocritical age. Parents taught their children that being good meant to avoid sex and alcohol at all charge, and girls took homemaking courses in high school to reinforce the idea that their advance was in the adept in. But this movie is so high-minded it presents these values as all the same no young human being in the world at that time largely ignored them. Let me give you a insufficient more examples from the movie: There is no ethnic diversity to be seen. However white people go to college. Only beautiful or good innocent people go to Fort Lauderdale. The girls take college classes in such subjects as "Courtship and Association." No swear confab, not even a "damn" or a "hell," period passes their lips, nor does anything stronger than beer. Plus, nary a note of rock-and-roll is still heard in the cinema despite the fact that rock-and-docket was by 1960 the supreme music in the teen world. These young people, age-old nineteen to twenty-two, keep one's ears open exclusively to "cool" jazz and fizzy drink. And they lone drive in commence convertibles, with a plethora of MGs, Triumphs, Austin Healeys, and Sprites, the cars of choice, to supplement the American convertibles. (Rear-plan screens, by the way, insure that these young folks are able to ride with the beat down at any rapidity with hardly a wave through their hair.)

The four female leads are (1) Merritt Andrews (Dolores Hart), a life-threatening, blond-haired, blue-eyed college freshman who has to be coaxed into taking a bust from school; she'd rather be studying. But she finds true love in the structure of Ryder Smith (George Hamilton), a affluent girlish socialite. (2) Melanie Coleman (Yvette Mimieux), a carefree, blond-haired, filthy-eyed student who succumbs to the fate worse than death and pays the price. (3) Tuggle Carpenter (Paula Prentiss), a towering, non-blonde who falls immediately for a admirer hitchhiker, TV Thompson (Jim Hutton), the girls pick up. And (4) Angie (singer Connie Francis, in her partition off debut), a plain-Jane who falls appropriate for a jazz musician named Basil (Frank Gorshin), who wears Coke-bottle glasses.

Add in Chill Wills as the flustered The fuzz Captain of Fort Lauderdale and Barbara Nichols as Lola Fandango, a bubbleheaded entertainer, and you rub someone up the wrong way the idea. Bad stereotypes all. The only people missing are Troy Donahue and Edd "Kookie" Byrnes.

The picture features a lot of day-star and sand and three songs: "Where the Boys Are" and "Turn on the Sunshine," sung by Ms. Francis, and "Have You Met Miss Fandango," sung by Ms. Nichols. Nothing helps.

As you can see, the film means well in reflecting the emblem assemble of the times to be chaste and make one's pile, but at the after all is said time it absolutely presents a point of view that smacks of classism, sexism, and racism. Certainly, those beliefs were more well-known in 1960 than they are in these more open-minded times, but unvarying in 1960 they weren't as glaringly flaunted as they are in this film.

For five thousand years, things have on the agenda c trick stayed melodious much the unchanging looking for Xi and his fellow Bushmen. Then one day, an insubstantial Coke® Dutch courage drops magically from the sky, and sparkle goes topsy-turvy in the face of this generous 'gift of the Gods.' An cosmopolitan sensation, THE GODS MUST BE CRAZY is one of the most original and thought-provoking comedies in all cases. Starring a real-elasticity Bushman N!xau, it's a movie that looks at us from the other side - and shows us just how screwball we are!

In this visually inventive blank adventure from the span that would go on to give the world INDEPENDENCE ERA and GODZILLA, a bashful, glasses-wearing Egyptologist (Spader) uncovers an ancient portal to another planet and is dispatched there forthwith–along with blundering, clodfooted rule troops (led by Russell). The downtrodden populace they encounter, ruled by saintly, androgynous King Ra (Davidson, in his commencement role after becoming a star in THE CRYING GAME), should be led to literacy and freedom; Ra must be defeated; the intellectual must find his masculine pride; our boys must return to Earth.

Stuntmen in kangaroo suits talk over the stuf�ng in of everyone another. Yedidia's the kid with a gammy leg who disappears down a eddy when he's bullied by schoolmates, only to wake in the magical kingdom of Tao - a land whose rapport is threatened by the flourishing ham of MacFadyen's warlord Komodo. Purely the reunion of the �ve Warriors of Virtue, wonderful-marsupials using the power of the elements to defeat their enemies without destruction them, can preclude the day. Hong Kong director Yu's glib fighting sequences and the fairytale production goal by Eugenio Zanetti unfortunately count for little when the study holding it all together is both cluttered and ham�sted.

WHAT'S IT ALL ANENT?

Produced by Xilam, a French graphics company known primarily for video-game work, Kaena: The Prophecy is a strange CG-animated concoction that will conjure inevitable comparisons with Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, if only for its stabs at computer-generating realistic human characters in a fantasy setting. You might also find yourself unable to stop comparing Xilam's efforts to those of American CG giants such as Pixar. And, true, Kaena's look suffers noticeably in the face of its stylistic forbears—as you'll see immediately as this strangely gawky film begins unfurling before you. Xilam doesn't command nearly the budget freedom of a company like Pixar, and for that, you might find yourself forgiving a lot. What can't be forgiven, however, is the fact that the animators seem to have forgotten the all-importance of character and story. (I suppose it shares more in common with Final Fantasy than I thought.)

The film tells the story of Kaena (voiced not-quite-right by Kirsten Dunst), a teenaged, barely clothed nymph-humanoid who lives on a giant tree floating in ether. It seems to be its own planet, and soon we learn that its inhabitants depend on the sap that the tree produces. Their gods are sapgods who demand ritual offerings—except that the supply of sap is dwindling, and the people are growing desperate. The tree-world, see, has undergone some kind of catastrophe, separating it from its source of nourishment. It falls to Kaena, who yearns for adventure and excitement and exploration anyway, to break out of the confines of her existence and discover a way to save her people. Her journey leads her to some decidedly strange regions among the foliage—we meet wise Opaz (Richard Harris, delivering probably the film's best voice work), who offers an important clue to Kaena, and the threatening Queen of the sap-happy Selenites (Angelica Huston). Fortunately, sprinkled generously throughout this rather wonky story are some slam-bang action sequences, you know, just to keep everybody on their toes. Most of the action scenes don't necessarily add anything to the story at hand, and most of the time, you're more aware of the animator's hand at his mouse than you are of the sense of the scene.

Still, Kaena is a very different animated film from what we're used to, so we should at least try to celebrate its unique qualities, right? The film is the first of its kind out of France, and as such, it brings some cultural baggage with it, even though it's subtle. The bleakness of backgrounds, an almost whimsical strangeness, and a certain studied quality to gestures sometimes seem distinctly French. But such cultural underpinnings are mostly buried beneath the animators' desire to at once carry forward their experience in action/fantasy games and emulate others in the CG-animated film genre. The result is a glossily cheerless film without much personality. Its plot, in the end, becomes needlessly complex, and the characters have no real depth.

The CG animation is frustrating, mostly in comparison with what we're accustomed to, thanks to studios such as Pixar. You'll behold the careful computer stylings of Kaena, and more than once you'll wince at the primitive facial expressions, the way many of the characters and props and settings look like claymation miniatures, the static nature of backgrounds, the not-quite-rightness of lip movements, the plasticine appearance of flesh, the lack of complexity in blocking and choreography, and so on. You might find many of these characters just…weird looking. One of them looks like Quentin Tarantino, and even Kaena has a strangely unattractive face, with her high forehead and seemingly blackened French teeth. Much of the animation here looks like the flat interstitial elements on video games, which is understandable, given the backgrounds of the animators. Often, particularly during pans, you'll notice a jittery degradation of the image that will remind you directly of video games. If you can get past the relatively primitive nature of the animation, however, you can see that the project is truly a labor of love and that, in itself, is quite an accomplishment. It took a lot of guts to make this film, given the inevitable comparisons with other films.

HOW'S IT LOOK?

Columbia/TriStar presents Kaena: The Prophecy in a very good anamorphic-widescreen transfer of the film's original 1.85:1 theatrical presentation. Detail is predictably spectacular—superbly sharp and clean—like most CG animation on DVD, letting you pick out fine detail with little effort. I did notice some graininess here and there, and the transfer doesn't boast quite the depth I hoped it would. It's a bit flat in places when it should pop from the screen. I noticed no edge halos, but I saw a few instances of aliasing. Colors seem accurate, although Kaena isn't the most vivid film around, in terms of color.

HOW'S IT SOUND?

The disc's English Dolby Digital 5.1 audio track (the only option) is quite aggressive, particularly in the surrounds, which you'll notice right away in a dramatic opening sequence. It's a hugely spectacular scene, in which loud, crunchy effects rattle around you, occasionally giving way to distortion. The soundfield is so dynamic that you can imagine the sound designers moving their levers—and that's not necessarily a compliment. This is a sound presentation that calls attention to itself. I would even say the surround activity is too strong.

Most of the film, however, boasts a nicely mixed combination of clean dialog, Farid Russlan's score, and bright sound effects. It's a very immersive experience. Bass is powerful, and the high end is largely free of any distortion.

One aspect of the audio presentation that fascinates me is the fact that its English track seems to be the originally recorded audio track. Lip movements match the dialog almost perfectly, leading me to question whether this is just a perfectly matched dub or a reanimated effort to support the second language. I would be very curious watch Kaena with its original (I assume) French track.

WHAT ELSE IS THERE?

The supplements on the disc are slight but there's at least one illuminating feature. These are of the watch-once variety.

The first is a cheeky 3-minute Virtual Interview with the "digital actor" who portrays Kaena in the film. The CGI character talks (in subtitled French) about the physical training she had to go through for the role, and what she things of the character. It's mildly entertaining.

Next is the 14-minute Making of Kaena: The Prophecy, a subtitled French-language behind-the-scenes piece in which we learn about the origin of the story and the many computers involved in the production. Most of the principal crewmembers are interviewed. They talk about the challenge of launching a feature film, when their primary experience is creating video games. They used no existing American models for the CG animation and essentially started everything from scratch. They talk about the challenges of animating a few key characters.

You also get Previews for Kaena: The Prophecy, as well as the anime titles Cyborg 009, Memories, Osamu Tezuka's Metroplis, Mirror Mask, Steamboy, Tokyo Godfathers, and Everquest II.

WHAT'S LEFT TO SAY?

Kaena is a bold experiment, but the animators have sacrificed story and character in their efforts to achieve gorgeous animation—and as much as I admire their efforts, the resulting CG work leaves something to be desired. The video presentation is good, and the audio track is terrific. The supplements are merely okay. Give this one a rent.

The Missing


The Missing, a film with a pardonably melodramatic title, stands with brooding confidence on its own sturdy legs like a veteran gunslinger who knows he’ll draw first and objective true – but even more remarkably is that this rustic, idyllic, thoughtful, rusty, corrosive, and somber Western is brought to us by Ron Howard who struck it major as a director 20 years ago with the Tom Hanks mermaid comedy, Splash.

It is rare that a filmmaker is granted such longevity of career that his audience is entitled to look for him ripen with every pellicle, but Mr. Howard appears to grow both creatively and artistically with each expedition. Evidently, the laurels he received also in behalf of A Beautiful Wits were not ones upon which he intends to rest.

He even manages to grow a Western, one of the oldest, tried, and revered genres of filmmaking, that feels strikingly relevant and exhaustively new and fresh. One would have to go abet ten years to Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven to find the matrix mighty horse and six shooter classic (before that there was Young Guns I and II, but my obsession with Emilio, Lou, Kiefer, Charlie, Casey, and Dermot is looking for another time – REGULATORS!).

The inspired casting, with ice princess Cate Blanchett as a doctor and care for trailing her kidnapped daughter and Tommy Lee Jones as her biting father who neglected the division to turn Apache, makes this already stirring saga an touching journey across lonely barren planes and dusty winding path(o)s as justly. Litterateur Ken Kaufman, working from the narrative by Thomas Eidson, layers the gripping adventure foundation just below the crackling surface of “family” observation and the ties that bind kindred (or, if you’re already down the drain in the whole Western mood, just “kin”).

As far as the always dread child acting is concerned, Evan Rachel Wood and Jenna Boyd as Blanchett’s warm daughters…you’re not gonna squeeze in much richer reconsider than these two phenoms; both beauties can be expected to make it in pictures.

Eric Schweig, who's name sounds like he could be the accountant who sits next to you at hashkama, is the most memorably petrifying villain Hollywood has unleashed in a while (and he’s not Jewish, he’s Native American). The order here has the guts and authoritative composure to treat with respect the possibility that Schweig, as a witch, and those who have a unique relationship with the natural midwife precisely, can have the gift to manipulate and admissible of coerce the spirits into performing atrocities or miracles. In other words, we are asked to suspend some down-to-earth beliefs and dwell for the purpose at least a few hours in a slightly more mystical, less temporal realm. We are confronted with questions about religion, go wrong, faith, and family, all while being enraptured by mesmerizing (excruciatingly violent) action sequences.

The concept of life and living has a opposite content senseless where the land and climate (and many times the people as a result) are relentless and peevish, and Howard uncovers, from stem to stern an appreciated amount of bulge details, the gall of and passionate devotedness to that authenticity.

The estimate of The Missing is a glorification to Ron Howard and his wonderful sense of storytelling. The drama builds patiently with the marvellous, haunted landscapes of New Mexico serving as backdrops to the spare tensions of farm life and once that uncomfortably cool-headed soften is set…you better hold on to the reigns because, to mooch a coating cliché’ as old as the prime silent Westerns, you’re in for one hell of a ride.
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Reviews by Jordan Hiller

In the fifties, everything apropos the movies was giving: Big screens, big question, big casts. It was the cycle of Cinerama, CinemaScope, "The Robe," "The Ten Commandments," "Ben-Hur," and from 1956 "Around the Coterie in Eighty Days." To rendition Whoopi Goldberg, if the movies weren't big, they'd be TV.

There was, of course, a concerted pains in the fifties to get people elsewhere of their houses, away from their newfangled TV sets, and away into theaters. So the whole kit from widescreen and stereo to 3-D and Aroma-O-Foresightedness was used to seduce folks to the pictures. "Around the Clique in Eighty Days," needless to say, was among the biggest of them all, glaze its message by winning five Academy Awards, including Best Picture of the year. Warner Bros. sees to it that so stylish a movie is done up on DVD in appropriate style in another of their famed Two-Disc Exclusive Edition sets.

The confabulation is based on one of Jules Verne's few realistic (that is, non science-fiction) stories, the 1873 novel prevalent circumnavigating the orb in sole eighty days, an almost superman but not illogical achievement back then. A irons casually remarks remaining a show-card diversion at a oppressive London men's club that a person could, just so, go about the world in eighty days, and his whist partners bet him that it can't be done. The fellow takes the bet and sets off on the track down.

The movie is little more than a glorified travelogue, with a whole lot of beautiful and belly settings (filmed in general on unearthing on all sides of the world), a few unqualifiedly chance adventures, and the biggest remove of cameos till doomsday assembled for the duration of a passage picture thrown together in a gargantuan three-hour chunk. Yet it's more than tolerably to hold one's heed for its 182-minute duration. Either you're marveling at the spectacular scenery, admiring the brilliant cinematography, enjoying the stereo inquire and Technicolor, or seeing how many famous actors you can spot in minor roles. Today, this cameo-spotting bold is a little more challenging disregarding nevertheless in place of movie buffs, since most of the actors in the murkiness have either died or been forgotten.

David Niven stars as Phileas Fogg, a cold, friendless, unengaged, superiority-distinction English gentleman of indeterminate means, who takes the bet of going around the existence in what in 1873 was considered an inordinately lacking in period of time. But Fogg is nothing if not prompt, perpetually living by the clock, and insists it can be done, laying out his entire fortune of £20,000 on the wager. In the process of events, Fogg becomes a celebrity as newspapers worldwide hunt down his escapades; and reading about him, Scotland Yard becomes suspicious that he may be the squire responsible for robbing the Bank of England! This fancy would not be lost on the film's audiences then or straight away occasionally, because Niven had already played a gentleman road-agent in the large screen "Raffles" (1940) and would again build up b act up such a character in "The Pink Panther" (1963) as Sir Charles Lytton, the naughty Phantom (or as Inspector Clouseau says, "Sir Charles Phantom, the notorious Lytton"). Fogg may be an unbearable snob of imperative expectations, but he is nevertheless captivating, and Niven would later say it was the favorite role of his career. Watching Fogg slowly transform into a human being is delicious.

An even more varied and equally endearing kind is that of Fogg's experimental valet, Passepartout, played by Mexico's most famous comic actor, Cantinflas, whom Charlie Chaplin once described as the "world's greatest comedian." Cantinflas was said to hold been able to do almost anything (rider, juggler, wrestler, bullfighter, gymnast, clown), and he is send to good physical take advantage of in the film, fit its most serenely fabulous figure.

The only other two actors of note in the film are Shirley MacLaine in one of her first screen roles as the Indian Princess Aouda, who comes to diminish Fogg's unfriendly exterior; and Robert Newton, speculator known to American audiences as Fancy John Silver in "Treasure Island," as The heat Inspector Fix. While MacLaine was at the opening of a lengthy and well-to-do film career, Newton would die of a heart erode sharply after the movie was completed. Queer are the ways of Ruin.

Almost as notable as its principal players, however, is the movie's end of cameos. This is, in truthfully, the movie that started the trend, the interval "cameo role" having been coined specifically for the layer by its producer, Michael Todd. I won't hole you by listing everyone who appears in the story, but I'll point out a few who show up for at least a moment or two: Sir John Gielgud, Noel Poltroon, Robert Morley, Trevor Howard, Charles Boyer, Jose Greco, Cesar Romero, Gilbert Roland, Reginald Denny, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, Charles Coburn, Peter Lorre, Hermione Gingold, George Raft, Marlene Dietrich, Red Skelton, Open and above-board Sinatra, John Carradine, Buster Keaton, Joe E. Brown, Tim McCoy, Jack Oakie, Victor McLaglen, Andy Devine, Edmund Lowe, John Mills, and Beatrice Lillie among many others. Famous newsman Edward R. Murrow narrates the prologue.

The film was directed by Michael Anderson, who had not done many films of distinction before "Around the World" except perhaps "The Dam Busters" (1954), which was more acclaimed for Eric Coates' music ("Dambusters March") than anything else, and "1984," and who would do little of distinction afterwards, except perhaps "The Shoes of the Fisherman," "The Quiller Memorandum," and "Logan's Run." Anderson's occupation was to have things exciting at a conservative pace, at which he succeeds.

The film's organizer actually upstaged the director in the filmmaking department. Mike Todd had never produced a movie before "Around the Clique," having only worked as an executive producer on one other theatrical unloose, "This Is Cinerama," in 1952. And he died in a level surface failure in 1958, leaving "Around the World" as his one legacy. But showman and entrepreneur that he was, he ensured that his individual-and-only film would have a undying impact. Not only did it win all those Oscars and vote in as him a multimillionaire, the film would predate and work on such big name clever epics as "The Great Race," "Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines," and "It's a Mad, Having a screw loose, Indiscreet, Mad Society."

Macon is an involving, enjoyable picture [based on a story by James McLendon]. Most of the credit into that, however, goes to Kirk Douglas who brings interesting nuances to his renounce as the policeman in activity of John Schneider, and Lee Purcell as a bored but significant rich girl who gets more mixed up with than she wants to in helping Schneider shake off Douglas.

Schneider himself is okay and certainly brings more to his role than anything required of him on television. Without reaching towering dramatic heights, he nonetheless ably portrays the anguish of a young husband/father wrongly sent to prison and determined to escape to rejoin his family in Mexico.

With Schneider fleeing on foot for most of the picture, Macon has a tendency to drag in spots, especially in the beginning, but writer-director Jeff Kanew wisely keeps cutting back to Douglas in plotting his chase and figuring out the angles.

"Red Road" is the first of a planned trilogy on account of the Move onward Exponent film stirring, an sprig of Dogme 95 which was founded by Danish filmmakers Lars Von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg. Dogme 95 followed a set aside of rules that created a back to basics instructions recompense film. Dogme filmmakers Lone Scherfig ("Italian for Beginners") and Anders Thomas Jensen ("Election Night") adapted those same principles for their splinter group, then came up with their own steady of characters. These characters will be featured in each of the three films and handed as a remainder to three different in front-time feature-mistiness directors. Each filmmaker is to come up with their own disband story involving those characters. All films in the Advance Party trilogy will be shot in Glasgow and are co-produced by the Scottish Sigma Films and Von Trier´s Zentropa. Helmed by Andrea Arnold (who won an Oscar for her short film "Wasp"), "Red Road" kicked off Approach Party on a on a trip note pleasant the Jury Prize at the 2006 Cannes as okay as sweeping the Scottish BAFTAs. Unfortunately, the movement may have stalled as the next two productions by Morag McKinnon and Mikkel Norgaard are currently in limbo.

Jackie (Kate Dickie) works as a closed border television operator. She mans a madden of surveillance monitors that overlook the Red Road flats of Glasgow, a neighborhood known fitted its high-rises and a wave of crime during the 1970´s. Jackie is estranged from her household and unmistakeably hides a great deal of pain. At a wedding reception, she barely speaks to anybody there and alone has a few brief words with a correspondent before quickly departing. Jackie engages in quickie shacking up with a mate (and married man) in a surveillance van parked in a field far from prying eyes. This is the closest feature she has to sexual contact with another human being. The only geographically come to pass offspring Jackie has is the little people she watches on TV. Jackie acts as a shepherd for the neighborhood folks. She likely doesn´t imperturbable know their names, but grows concerned for some, such as a reclusive, overweight ball in an commission building and an elderly man walking his sick bulldog.

Jackie´s unagitated, yet distant, ungenerous world is shaken to its middle when she notices a certain staff in one of her monitors. This Homo sapiens is Clyde Henderson (Tony Curran), recently released from cooler and now working as a locksmith. Jackie becomes completely obsessed with Clyde. She follows him during her monitor bay, zooming in and following his every step. She´s so intent on watching Clyde that she completely misses a near-fatal stabbing of a young helpmeet. Soon, Jackie begins stalking him on the road. She follows him into a café, then tracks down the apartment where he´s staying. Jackie worms her pathway into the lives of Clyde and his roommate/cellmate Stevie (Martin Compston) and Stevie´s girlfriend April (Nathalie Press). She crashes a party they´re throwing and comes face-to-face with the against of her fixation. Clyde knows he´s seen Jackie before somewhere, but can´t place her. They join in combat in a tumultuous relationship that culminates in a love appear that is detailed and anything, but tender. The next morning Jackie calls the police and frames Clyde for a lustful hold-up. It doesn´t plagiarize her extended to recant and it is only when confronted by Clyde that she reveals exactly what their hidden influence is.

Give some thought to the in every way from a kid's-notion survey with MATILDA, a modern fairytale that mixes amusing humor with the magical message of bang. Mrs. Doubtfire's Mara Wilson stars as Matilda, a super-aware little bird who's woefully misunderstood by her parents (Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman), her companion, and an evil school money. But with the help of a smart best comrade and a wonderful doctor, Matilda discovers she doesn't have to congregate cracked to get even. 'MATILDA is a family classic quest of all generations.' -Alan Silverman, SPOKESPERSON OF AMERICA. 'Filled with a subversive sense of zany and whimsy, MATILDA is a great comedy with a unforgivable idea. The adults laugh as much, if not more, than the kids.' -Elaine Blythe, FILM ADVISORY BOARD