Dirty Work

I didn’t bother going to see Fight Club when it came out in October because, having seen Seven and The Game, the earlier films by its director, David Fincher, I thought I knew what to expect: namely, bargain basement nihilism and pseudo-profundities got up into an “edgy” package with “edgy” music and featuring big stars…

True, it’s not as bad as American Beauty, Sam Mendes’s earlier film, but it’s still quite bad enough.

As he did in Elizabeth, Shekhar Kapur tries to make his historical characters less like themselves and more like us. Why the self-congratulation?

Romanticism gives way to blatant sentimentalism in Nick Cassavetes’s tribute to lifelong love. . .

I thought that the cowboy who loved his horse more than any ole woman went out with Tom Mix, but make him P.C. and he’s back again

An adaptation which brings out the worst in Philip Roth’s novel