Tobacco, talk, and maybe some hope for the troubled, all is available in a small shop in Brooklyn – the center of the world if you ask the proprietor. An episodic and very likable indie endeavor.
Both quiet and wordy. In my book of chance, characters, and cigars.
What, only 1000 – bah, that’s too easy!
I like fright flicks, but not enough to take on this ambitious list. Surprisingly many entries are among the 1001, though, partly because the listmakers have been quite liberal as to what constitutes a horror movie.
Far from it, I must admit! This weekend I will visit my second consecutive one in Gothenburg. Not so very impressive, perhaps, but at least it’s something…
Alicia Silverstone is initially anything but clueless in this legendary high-school flick, a fast-paced, fashionable, and fiendishly funny social satire/romance/coming of age story.
Charming, corny, carefree comedy by pitch-perfect writer/director Amy Heckerling. In my book of youth, wealth, and growth.
Good, bad, or a blurred both? American auteur Michael Mann intelligently ponders the similarities and differences of cops and criminals in dark, determined, defaitistic ways.
An eloquent study in masculinity and loneliness. In my book of dependence.
More mafia movie madness – again directed by Martin Scorcese, written by Nicolas Pileggi, starring Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci. Together these mighty men bring us massive amounts of what is mostly empty, meaningless bravado during three well-produced hours of glitz and sleaze in mob-ruled Las Vegas.
Everything is more or less business as usual, not bad but not especially surprising either. Maybe in my book of organized crime.
An oldfashioned, historically inaccurate adventure epic spiced up with some 90s grit. I’ve long admired Mel Gibson’s talent for suffering, and there’s plenty of that here. Unfortunately, there’s also plenty of big hair, silly-looking costumes, and weird facial paint.
Obsessed with national freedom. Only maybe in my book of compelling lies.