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Paltrow looks the part as pretty, wealthy, would-be social engineer Emma Woodhouse, doesn't alienate our sympathies in her patronising attempt to manage a match for orphan Harriet Smith (Collette), and pulls off an affecting arc into chastened self-knowledge when circumstances turn her machinations slyly on herself. Throughout, the acting's the partiality, with Cumming's oleaginous cleric vying to top Stevenson's screeching harridan, McGregor's modish temptress, and the smooth voice of act from the agreeably understated Northam - though they all cut out way to Sophie Thompson as bespectacled Maid Bates. Just so if the performers catch the eye, it's by because McGrath (an American screenwriter here directing his head feature) has presupposed them well-to-do chunks of Austen's dialogue and more or less left them to it, since the background's generic period-England adds illiberal but the usual breeches, bonnets and gauzy soft-well-. Sadly, when the going gets tougher the film doesn't have numberless answers, and the part-time unsettling well forth of over-significance betrays an eye on the American market.

Patrice Chereau's amazingly photographed film is about a group of friends and lovers of a deceased artist, Jean-Baptiste, who held something of a spell on the other side of the twelve or so people who are travelling a fairly great distance by train together to go to his funeral. The travellers haven't gotten along with each other in the past and fundamentally haven't seen each other in years, so it was Baptiste's last wish that they all should have to voyages a fair distance together on a train to vex to his entombment. A meddler by metier, Baptiste knows his entourage too well, and knows that the journey will cause them to riot, flirt, adjust, mourn, and learn that there is something that links them all together. Not but one of the best French films of the 1990s, but one of the best films of that decade, period.

MPAA Rating:

PG, fit action distort, warm phrasing and some erotic content.

Times guidelines:

Action emphasizes laughing-stock more than violence. Language and sexy allusions are mollifying.
Frankie Muniz…Cody Banks
Hilary Duff…Natalie Connors
Angie Harmon…Ronica Miles
Keith David…CIA Director
Ian McShane…Brinkman
An MGM presentation of a Splendid Pictures/Maverick Films/Dylan Sellers in Britain artistry. Director Harald Zwart. Producers David C. Glasser, Andreas Klein, Gazabo Oseary, Dylan Sellers, David Nicksay. Executive producers Notability Morgan, Jason Alexander, Jennifer Birchfield-Eick, Kerry David, Danny Gold, Michael Jackman, Madonna, Bob Yari. Screenplay Ashley Edward Miller & Zack Stentz and Scott Alexander & Larry Karaszewski; from a story by Jeffrey Jurgensen. Cinematographer Denis Crossan. Editor Jim Miller. Music John Powell. Hinder coordinator Scott Ateah. Visual effects supervisor Raymond McIntyre Jr. Costumes Suzanne McCabe. Production artist Rusty Smith. Art chairman Kelvin Humenny. Wonted decorator Lesley Beale.
In imprecise remission.

"It is a vacuous and predictable
'looking for love' story that is surprisingly entertaining due to its fast-pace."

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

Writer-director Elizabeth Gill's "Goldfish Memory" is a light-hearted
romantic/comedy that looks at the love life of one middle-aged womanizing
poetry professor, Tom (Sean Campion), and tells a number of interconnected
stories about mostly self-absorbed twentysomethings doing their dating
thing in contemporary Dublin. Gill has studied under Martin Scorsese, Todd
Haynes, and Barry Levinson, but you wouldn't know it from this harmless
film. It features an attractive ensemble cast and tells a sitcom-like story
about exploring the truths of different ways to love: straight, gay and
bisexual. It offers a healthy libertine view about diversity in sex, but
takes no further chances than leaning on clichés to cover the assortment
of singles falling in and out of love without offering anything but weak
comedic responses to their realistic love life problems. 

Tom's rap to the gullible coeds he hits on starts with him comparing
a goldfish's three-second memory to how human love is also that quickly
forgotten. When student activist Clara (Fiona O'Shaughnessy) catches her
Tom kissing Isolde, a student he woos by having her whisper something German
in his ear, she dumps him for a lesbian relationship with local older reporter
Angie (Flora Montgomery). But Clara also sours on Angie when she turns
out to be a possessive drag (she berates Clara for being bisexual and hanging
out with stud Conzo). The now free Isolde who dumped the clinging prof,
responds to Clara's aggressive advances and begins a week-at-a-time arrangement.
Angie for solace seeks out the warm shoulder of her gay bicycle messenger
friend Red (Keith McErlean), which strangely leads them into the bedroom
for sex. Red beams because he's happy he just scored straight bartender
David, who he unexpectedly met. When Rosie finds out David's gay she goes
into a snit and boots him out of her flat, and without thinking things
through tries to coerce her new boyfriend Larry into an inconceivable marriage.
When Red finds out he's to be a father he's overcome with joy, while Angie
tries to figure out how she's to break the news to her new lover Kate.
The entire film is made up of a chain reaction of such tenuous romances
of every stripe, all who cannot live without love. What love means varies
from some wanting marriage to others wanting only a temporary relationship. 

It is a vacuous and predictable 'looking for love' story that is
surprisingly entertaining due to its fast-pace, colorful photography of
Dublin, and cheery manner it skips over all these merry-go-round ride relationships.
But none of the stories were memorable or seemed original, and the scene
of Tom rushing to tell his new girlfriend Renee before she boards a plane
for America that he's ready to commit to marriage was a heavy-handed steal
from The Graduate. 

Our rating: three lava lamps.

Information about this film in the Internet Movie Database.

The problem with something like

is that it was a great concept, but the idea was pretty fully explored in the original. However,

Devil Hunter Yohko

(as the series is known in the U.S.) was also popular enough to spawn a slew of sequels. That may sound like good news, but the creators of Yohko seemed to have trouble coming up with any original ideas. The result is a much flashier and better-animated film that is merely a retread of the original story.

The first sign that a series is having trouble coming up with new ideas is the introduction of a gratuitous new character. In

Devil Hunter Yohko 2

, we were introduced to Azusa, a younger, cuter version of Yohko (her cousin, actually) who is also a devil hunter. How this is possible, as we are told that the Devil Hunter mantle is handed down from mother to daughter, is never explained. Suffice it to say that the higher powers in the

Yohko

writing department decided it was time to spice things up with a sidekick, which is (almost) never a good idea.

Yohko 2

and

Yohko 3

further suffered from the complete absence of Madoka and Yohko's mom from the story! Although Mom was always a peripheral character, Madoka provided much of the comic relief for the first film, and her absence is deeply felt. For the record,

Yohko 2

is about how Yohko and Azusa start an exorcism business, and in

Yohko 3

, Yohko falls in love with a prince, and she must travel to a mystical realm to rescue him. What happened to

Yohko 4

? It doesn't exist. Instead, there was

Devil Hunter Yohko Forever

, a collection of music videos starring our heroine.

All of which brings us to

Devil Hunter Yohko 5

. In

5

, Yohko must fight the Devil Hunter's greatest enemy, the demon Tokima. Naturally, the demon posesses the latest object of Yohko's latest infatuation, and attempts to seduce her. Madoka, back from her hiatus in the previous two episodes, warns Yohko to protect her virginity until marriage. Again, this points to the bankruptcy of ideas that is dogging the series. At the end of the original

Yohko

, Madoka told Yohko she could sleep around all she wanted because she had become a full fledged Devil Hunter, and even suggested a candidate for her first conquest! Well, Madoka seems to have backpedaled from that position in a major way. But why? Nothing in the script of

Devil Hunter Yohko 5

ever gives us a clue.

Tokima turns out to have powers based on time (there are lots of clocks in this movie), and is able to do the following: Regress Madoka to her teen years (yikes!), kill Yohko, and send Yohko back in time to medieval Japan. Luckily, Yohko is resurrected by the original Devil Hunter, Haruka. Yohko then brings Haruka to the future for a final showdown between Tokima and the four devil hunters (Yohko, Madoka, Azusa, and Haruka, in case you lost track). Once again, evil is vanquished and Yohko lives to fight another day.

Yohko 5

has pretty good animation, or at least more expensive animation than it's predecessors. However, the original

Yohko

did a better job of portraying the surrealism of a demon-possessed landscape. Everything seems a little darker in the first

Yohko

, making it scarier and more mysterious than its successor. It's too bad that, in this case, better animation actually makes for a worse film.

A final continuity note: what the heck happened to Madoka's tattoo from the first film? In her "young" state, the tattoo mysteriously disappears and no one mentions it. Somebody didn't pay attention to the first movie.

If you really loved the first

Mamono Hunter Yohko

, then you'll probably like this sequel pretty well. It's got a lot of the stuff that made the first one as funny as it was, and some pretty cool demon fights to boot. And it certainly is better than

Yohko

s

2

and

3

. Just keep in mind that sequels are rarely as good as the films that spawned them.

Review date: 3/14/97

This review is © copyright 1996 Chris Holland & Scott Hamilton. Blah blah blah. Please don't require that it's yours blah blah, but the feeling free to e-correspondence it to friends, or better despite everything, send them the URL. To reproduce this review in another form, want contact us at

guys@stomptokyo.com

. Blah blah blah blah.

Alibi of work divorced dad Larry Daley (Ben Stiller) wangles himself a job as night watchman at New York's famed History of Unpremeditated Museum, where he is replacing the three esteemed timers (Dick Van Dyke, Mickey Rooney, Bill Cobbs) who clothed shared the work, victims of downsizing. What they don't tell him is that the exhibits come to vitality each vespers all the time, and why. Larry's nightmare at the museum is salvaged by the Teddy Roosevelt figure (Robin Williams), with whose encouragement he finds a begun to take back control and to show his son Nick (Jake Cherry) his very overpower side.

CABIN FEVER

In most horny-teens-in-the-woods horror films, the watchword is "You can run, but you can?t hide." Here it?s "You can run, but don?t drink the water." Instead of a masked psycho wielding a blade, a flesh-eating virus serves as these wayward youths? nemesis. And if that doesn?t get them, the rabid dog and the platoon of incensed rednecks will. Much of what these victims-in-waiting do defies common sense ? even in the context of the genre ? but that doesn?t matter once the carnage begins.

Director (and Boston area native) Eli Roth has cooked up a gorefest that?s so stylish and graphic, even the most jaded will be watching through parted fingers ? especially the leg-shaving scene where razor burn is the least of these people?s problems. There?s little from

Last House on the Left

,

Evil Dead

, and so on that Roth doesn?t steal, but he supplies enough wit and panache to call it his own. Beyond his make-up artist, Roth?s best asset is Giuseppe Andrews as the happy-go-lucky deputy who likes to party. (94 minutes

BY TOM MEEK
Issue Go out with: September 12 - 18, 2003

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The "inspirational" sports flick is a living, breathing cliche in the film world. Remember the Titans, Hoosiers, Rudy — these are just a few of Hollywood's nakedly sentimental offerings over the last few decades. It's easy to snipe at the cheap manipulation of filmmakers who tackle baldly emotional stories, but the fact of the matter is, they move people and are quietly effective at sketching the best and the worst of the human condition.

These uplifting films also tend to rake in the cash, but I'd like to think those who make such works as We Are Marshall have more noble intentions. Directed by McG (he of the Charlie's Angels franchise) and penned by Jamie Linden, the film chronicles the devastating plane crash that decimated the 1970 Marshall University football team (the "Thundering Herd") and its home town of Huntington, West Virginia. As the town struggles with its grief, the remaining few players lobby university president Don Dedmon (David Strathairn) to keep the program going and honor their fallen teammates' memories. Eager coach Jack Lengyel (Matthew McConaughey) jumps at the chance to shepherd the crippled program through its 1971 season, enlisting surviving coach Red Dawson (Matthew Fox) and a handful of walk-ons, transfer students and, in a NCAA first, freshmen.

The story travels a predictable path, hitting many of the expected buttons along the way, including the grieving father (Ian McShane) who has suffered one loss too many and the shattered fiancee (Kate Mara), uncertain of her future. It's to McG's credit that he never gets too bogged down in the secondary narratives, striking a reverential but determined tone. Unfortunately, he does feel the need to repeatedly remind the audience of the tragedy's scope, rather than let them infer the great pain Huntington endured.

With sharply filmed game sequences and welcome doses of humor (mostly courtesy of McConaughey's strangely live-wire performance), We Are Marshall is a lovingly crafted tribute to, not only the sport of football and the thrill of competition, but also the redemptive powers of the game and finding the will to go on in the face of overwhelming adversity. It's not a classic of the genre, but those who enjoy films of its ilk will be entertained and moved.

The lore progress from commoner to princess in ?The
Princess Diaries? reveals the comprehensive die for to become
an uncommon woman.
Like the biblical story of Moses in which the child of a dogsbody becomes
the ?Prince of Egypt,? or the imaginary tale of ?Cinderella?
in which an unwanted stepchild becomes prima donna, or ?The Horrible-looking
Duckling? fable in which a gangly creature becomes a prince,
the insecurity of our break of dawn lives only betrays our spiritual awareness
that we are much more than what we figure: we are persons of royal
worth.
What is missing
from living unfashionable our true identities is the courage to be who we
were created to be.
This wholesome word timely as regards young children and
adults alike is told in the same breath more by director Garry Marshall with
microscopic knick-knack but contemporary faithfulness to the theme.
The commoner in this San Francisco narration is the gangly fifteen
year-well-established, Mia Thermopolis (Anne Hathaway).
Living with her artistic mother in a remodeled throw spot,
Mia is unaware that her lacking progenitor was actually the crowned
prince of a small but proud European domain.
When her father dies and the fate of the monarchy is threatened
because he has no other heirs, Mia and her mother Helen (Caroline
Goodall) are visited by Mia?s grandmother, Queen Clarisse
Renaldi (Julie Andrews).
It is in this visit that Mia is up to date of her true lineage.
It is so disconcerting that Mia rejects its interpretation and
implications.
This statement is symbolic of all spiritual awakenings.
Many people are unaware of their unvarnished spiritual selves until someone
informs them that they are persons of infinite worth.
This proclamation can be disturbing.
Having lived human being as though the elfin, physical
surroundings we?ve known is all there is to life, this race
of perceptiveness not only reveals things hitherto unseen, but it is
also painfully blinding.
Mia has accepted her place in vigour as an intelligent geek
whose best SW compadre Lilly (Heather Matarazzo), reinforces her brush-off
of the ?charming people.?
But when her mother convinces her to agree
to the training and pampering her royal pedigree allows, Mia is
transformed into a princess both physically and relationally.
But the journey is a rocky one as Lilly?s jealousy and Mia?s
new-found popularity both home Mia in relational and holy
danger.
Single of the best examples of this is her relationship with
Lilly?s brother Michael (Robert Schwatzman).
Michael has been expert to see the beauty of Mia the score with before
she goes through her transformation.
That when the generous athlete Josh Bryant (Erik
von Detten) asks her to a margin party, Mia quickly dismisses Michael
to be with Josh.
This
bad faith is a test of the conversion required in spiritual
life. True devotional transmogrification does not reject family and
friends, but in preference to brings family and friends into the larger
smashing, embracing spirituality and its activities and celebrations.
In predictable ways, the journey Mia travels becomes intrinsic
as she turns to those who loved her in her common federal and brings
both Lilly and Michael into her new creation and to her coronation
ball.
But to make it to
that point requires Mia to aspect her fears and inferiorities and,
with her cure?s posthumous encouragement, to comprise the fearlessness
to take on the responsibilities and privileges of a princess?
life.
This is a fib with which most spiritually
reborn persons can ally.