viernes, 24 de marzo de 2017

Peliculas para ver en la semana

OPENING THIS WEEK Rotten tomatoes

Cultura sobre las peliculas



Rotten Tomatoes 'the worst thing about movie culture today', says Hollywood director

Director, producer and one half of James Packer's RatPac Entertainment, Brett Ratner has labelled film review aggregation website Rotten Tomatoes "the worst thing we have in today's movie culture."
Ratner, who rose to commercial fame directing the Rush Hour films, took aim at the website during a speech at the Sun Valley Film Festival in the US.
Rotten Tomatoes ranks films based on the balance of favourable vs. unfavourable critic reviews rather than ratings of the films themselves, with those attracting favourable reviews at a rate of 60 per cent or more considered 'fresh'.
Ratner's comments suggest filmgoers and studios alike rely too heavily on a number, rather than engaging with the ideas of any individual critic.

Curiosidades

Rediscovered 1920s Home Movies Are the First to Show the White House in Color

An archivist working at the Herbert Hoover Presidential Library has stumbled upon color home movies taken in the late 1920s by former First Lady Lou Hoover. Incredibly, this is very likely the first color film to show a US President, the First Lady, and the White House.
Audio-visual archivist Lynn Smith was working on a preservation project at the library when she realized that seven reels of 16mm film from the Hoover collection were not black and white as originally assumed, but an early form of color film known as Kodacolor.
“I realized some of [Lou Hoover’s] home movies used Kodacolor film but, because it appears like black and white film, previous archivists assumed it must be black and white,” explained Smith in a Hoover Archives release. Knowing that the former First Lady was fascinated by emerging technologies, and that she had access to Kodacolor film and camera, Smith decided to take a closer look at the film, wherein she came to the discovery.
Kodacolor film debuted in August 1928, and it looks like plain old black and white film. But when projected through a special filtered lens, called the Kodacolor Projection Filter, the color embedded in the film appears on screen. A post from the National Archives explains how it works:

Etretenimiento

The Hatton Garden movies: how the British crime film lost its bottle




ometimes, a film arrives at exactly the right time. In Brexitland 2017, that film is The Hatton Garden Job, a nostalgia-rich and semi-fictional crime caper loosely based on the case also known as the Hatton Garden safe-deposit burglary. The turnaround has been quick. You will remember the Easter weekend two years ago, when parties unknown drilled through 18in of concrete under central London to steal £14m worth of gold, cash and jewellery. And how, when arrests were finally made, the movie pitched itself – the principal gang members aged between 60 and 76, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel with a swag bag.
The gift kept giving. The heist involved no violence, granting the story family-friendliness. Then there was “Basil” – the unknown security expert who remains at large with his share of the proceeds, allowing it a hint of sun-kissed escape. Bingo! Or indeed blingo, as in “the biggest blingo blag in history”, the phrase with which the theft is described on screen by Phil Daniels, a fine actor doomed to be remembered by many as the voice of Blur’s Parklife.
This may not be all. Another version of the same events awaits up the pipeline, a high-end affair from producers Working Title to star – of course – Michael Caine, the script adapted from a piece in Vanity Fair. Elsewhere on the industry spectrum, a third movie already exists – Hatton Garden the Heist, from Terry Lee Coker, writer-director of gangland opus Essex Vendetta. The Hatton Garden Job falls somewhere between the two, made of plyboard but with means enough for Daniels to be joined by Larry Lamb as veteran thief Brian Reader. Fancier yet, the police theory that Basil was younger than his associates is used to justify casting actual movie star Matthew Goode, 38, gamely if erratically dropping his Hs.

Goode brings with him not just his fame, but the memory of his role in Downton Abbey, a link with a counter-intuitive logic. Across generations and classes, his new film is as giddy with the past as anything from the quill of Julian Fellowes. This, it reminds us loudly and often, is a tale of the old school – proper chaps in dowdy East End boozers, observant of the criminal code. One scene takes place at West Ham’s deserted Upton Park, abandoned in the club’s move to the Olympic Stadium, for no reason the script elects to mention. In truth, the east London thing is a stretch. Reader came from Dartford in Kent and his colleagues were from Enfield; their meet-ups were held in an Islington gastropub offering craft ales and a brunch menu. You suppose a detail like that might spoil the salute to tradition restored, the kind of criminals they don’t make any more doing the kind of crime they don’t do – in the words of yet another pending British gangster film, We Still Steal the Old Way. With all that the Old Way implies.

Noticias del cine

Get outta here, 10 Things I Hate About You: 10 movies that embody the ’90s/A.V.CLUB



It might be terrible, but Space Jam is my quintessential ’90s movie. It’s a nightmarish concoction built from so many of the decade’s trends: the inescapable popularity of the NBA; Michael Jordan’s world domination; the commercialization and sanitizing of hip-hop culture; Wayne Knight; and, of course, garish Looney Tunes jackets. Perhaps more lasting and more ’90s than the film itself is the soundtrack, which was bursting with hip-hop and R&B stars of the decade, from Seal to R. Kelly to Salt-N-Pepa. Love it or hate it, you can’t deny how ubiquitous that track list became (people are still mashing up the theme song with anything you can think of) and how representative of the era’s very particular strain of schlock that movie is.

Nick Wanserski

It’s a bit rich, perhaps, to claim the definitive ’90s movie came out the very first year of the decade, but 1990’s Pump Up The Volume helped lay down the ironic, smartass soil that nourished 10 years’ worth of not caring but secretly caring so much it hurts. As Mark, a shy teen running a pirate radio station, Christian Slater modeled both the floppy hair and iron wall of sarcastic emotional defenses that would personify the ’90s. It builds off of punk disdain for hippies (represented here by Mark’s gentrified Deadhead parents), society’s bullshit (a school weeding out problem students to score higher ratings), and stuffy, outmoded mores (Mark’s DJ moniker is Happy Harry Hard-On, taken from a porn mag) but added a deep sense of social consciousness—safely protected behind a layer studied indifference, of course. Even though the soundtrack was all ’80s music, it included a lot of stuff I was listening to for the majority of the ’90s.

Nathan Rabin

The only way Pulp Fiction could have been more 1990s would have been if Quentin Tarantino had succeeded in casting Kurt Cobain in the drug dealer role Eric Stoltz ended up playing. To me, Pulp Fiction wasn’t just a standout film of the 1990s: It was the ’90s personified, a pitch-black, wildly meta meditation on destiny, violence, fate, and fast food inextricably rooted in the pop culture that preceded it yet unmistakably a product of its time. Just try to listen to Urge Overkill’s “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon” on a jukebox without immediately being transported back to the giddy, halcyon days of the ’90s, when everything seemed so much less apocalyptic than our current uncertain era.

Clayton Purdom

I have watched 1995’s Hackers more times than I care to remember, moving from active enjoyment of it as a kid to active distaste for it as an adult. At this point I remember it all in a sort of plotless fever dream: mid-’90s electronic music, aggressive PlayStation branding, gnarly skateboarding, a young Matthew Lillard, lots of people banging on keyboards and shouting about the internet as an agent of utopian change. With the exception of just how ’90s it all is, it has aged remarkably poorly. Released today, Crash and Burn and the rest of the gang would probably just hang out on Reddit torrentingGundam episodes and shit-posting journalists on Twitter. The future is here!

Sean O’Neal

I might be taking the question a tad too literally by nominating Slacker, a movie that captures the ’90s for me at least quasi-autobiographically, considering I spent the back half of that decade also aimlessly drifting through Austin, Texas. I’ve written before about my own “slacker” period and the films that informed it (Reality BitesClerks), but all of those were just descendants of Richard Linklater’s roving, largely plotless slice of screenwriter’s-imagined-life, set among the indolent, overeducated, pseudo-intellectual working class of Generation X. Slacker captured people who were simultaneously jaded by their Reagan upbringing yet also lounging on the precipice of the Clinton era that afforded them the latitude to lie around on their Goodwill couches, smoking weed and talking about the semiotics of The Smurfs, all without having to overly worry about much. That attitude (naturally appealing to me, a guy who liked to smoke weed and lie around arguing about stuff that didn’t matter) mirrored my own, and it’s partly what drew me to move to Austin to live out my own version of the film, where I half-assed my own joe jobs alongside some of the people who’d actually been in the movie and watched while the cheap rents, coffee houses, and dive bars it lovingly immortalized slowly disappeared, falling victim to the rising influx of new residents like myself. As demonstrated by the 2011 “recreation” of Slackerfilmed at all its old locations—many of which have long since been turned into mixed-use condos—the original Slacker is a home movie of a home Austin can’t return to, and it’s a document of a place and people lost to its very specific time.

Esther Zuckerman