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You are here -> Lifestyle / Film & TV Monday, 12 May, 2008
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Robbie Williams at Knebworth the biggest selling music DVD!

Battle for Haditha (Cert. 15)
In the good ol' days of cinema (circa 1985), watching Americans shoot foreigners was a comforting, cathartic experience. It was easy to sleep at night knowing that well-trained, muscle-bound men were available to drop behind enemy lines and murder those stinking Communists. Sadly things have changed. Today, rather than relying on former bodybuilders with bizarre accents, the US military employs entire platoons of slack-jawed morons who rely on the rule that if you wear something that looks like a towel on your head, you were probably personally responsible for 9/11 and should be shot immediately before you do it again. In their hands, the 'shoot-first, ask-questions-later' routine just doesn't seem quite so amusing. Such is the lesson from documentary legend Nick Broomfield (Biggie and Tupac, Kurt and Courtney, The Leader, The Driver, and the Driver's Wife) in his second foray into drama and acting. It tells the harrowing true story of a unit of Marines who slaughtered 29 Iraqi civilians in the wake of a roadside bomb on one of their jeeps in 2005. It's a finely detailed account that can't quite move beyond Broomfield's documentary instincts. The big mistake was using real marines as actors - which makes precisely as much sense as sending actors to carry out counter-terrorism operations in Afghanistan - but the slightly embarrassing first hour of amateur dramatics does at least leave you unprepared for the shockingly realistic, stomach-churning violence of the main event, presenting at least one version of the reality behind the headlines. The question is whether anyone really needs to be told that the American military is populated by trigger-happy, gung-ho dickheads, and run by even worse. Words: Eric Randolph BATTLE FOR HADITHA - Cert. 15 - Available now on DVD!
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MARTIN SCORSESE and THE ROLLING STONES: 'SHINE A LIGHT'
When we’re talking about the Rolling Stones we’re talking about the greatest, coolest and most definitive band in the history of rock ‘n’ roll. Sorry ladies and gents but that’s an indisputable fact. That’s not my opinion, it’s a given, like grass being green and shit being brown. I mean psychologists say that you only ever find true love once and I guess that’s kind of true because I used to love bananas. I know it’s a bit different, but I really REALLY loved ‘em. I think they’re a despicable fruit now, since mistaking banana fritter and potato croquettes for a plate of fish and chips. It was that taste of the unexpected; a real jolt to the system. Anyway, the point is, my banana affair wasn’t true love. If a band’s still doing global tours forty years after they first hit the road, that’s true love. The Rolling Stones have it with music. Martin Scorsese has it with film. Stick the two together and we’re not talking your usual run-of-the-mill rock ‘n’ roll documentary or concert film… First a wee history lesson on Martin Scorsese’s ‘Shine a Light’. The film started with a Mick Jagger dream. It wasn’t wet and it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility. At the time the Stones were on their worldwide ‘Bigger Bang’ tour preparing to play for two million Brazilians on Rio De Janeiro beach. Jagger wanted to shoot the show as a documentary film and had one of those “if we’re going to do this we may as well do it right” moments. One thing led to another and Martin ‘Marty’ Scorsese was on board. Let’s face it, Marty jumped at the chance and who wouldn’t? It’s the fucking Stones! Anyway, once on board Marty brought in a veritable crew of top producers; some had worked on Stones documentaries in the past; Victoria Pearman formed ‘Jagged Films’ with Jagger himself; we’re basically talking the best in the business. Right: with all the ins and outs of “how Shine a Light came to be” out the way we’ll head to the Marty philosophy. Everyone’s seen footage of the Stones, right? Clips from ‘Cocksucker Blues’ on YouTube or ‘Gimme Shelter’ and all the rest of it. They’ve seen Keith strung out on heroin, they know about the Altamont tragedy, they know about Brian Jones’ death and Keith’s arrest et cetera et cetera. They know the Stones music whether it be in literary context (Sympathy for the Devil as a soundtrack to Fear and Loathing) or film (have you seen Mean Streets? “It’s a gas gas gas”). All that’s fine; well, legendary in rock ‘n’ roll folklore. It’s the Rolling fucking Stones! However, Marty succeeds in making something a little different via concentrating on four icons over the age of sixty, who have been touring for just as long, and the subsequent connection all four have on stage. That’s something rare. Something special. And something totally unexplored (more the fool) until one of the greatest director’s in the history of film took the project under his wing and made it his own. It’s also a direction that has come under criticism for being “just like any other concert film” but frankly that’s ludicrous. Some journalists are so far up their own arses they taste their shit before they smell it. Trust us, believe us: ‘Shine a Light’ has groundbreaking cinematography! Marty suggested shooting a concert in the more intimate surroundings of New York’s stunning Beacon Theatre, the venue where the final cut was taken. The film kicks off with black and white footage of Marty’s preparations and backstage footage of the Stones, giving an insight into two sets of characters who have been, and arguably remain, at the very top of their game. It’s an interesting approach and Marty’s inclusion in the film emphasises his importance to the project, as well as the respect both parties have for one another. Quite refreshing, I’m sure you’ll agree. Anyway, the introduction provides an understanding of both Marty and the Stones creative limitations, Marty meticulously attempting to acquire the final set-list and Jagger announcing “We’ll be done Marty, on the night, an hour before the show”. The opposing forces of both the Stones and Marty creates some insightful points. The Stones want the set-list to be perfect for their more intimate surroundings, you can understand their deliberation, whilst Marty wants his production to be a-okay and is well aware that knowing the set-list in advance will help define guitar-solos, intros, outros, hooks, riffs et cetera to be caught perfectly on camera. Blink and you’ll miss it, but Marty and the Stones are no different when it comes to the care, attention and undoubted love for their professions. There’s also a hilarious section where the Stones meet the Clintons (it’s Bill’s birthday), including Hilary’s mum. Keith’s face is forever golden (you rarely see the human riff without a smile) but the relatively quiet Watts proves that he’s one hell of a funny fucker! Anyway, rather than guide you through the film detail by tiny detail and song by song let’s cut to the chase. Marty’s sixteen strong camera crew - their every move controlled by the man himself - capture the Stones as never before. Even if Marty had known the set-list way in advance nothing could prepare him for the spontaneity between them, particularly Jagger, whose presence on stage defies his sixty-four years: leaping about with elegance and characteristic camp gesticulations. The man oozes sex appeal, something all too evident in an amazing ‘Live With Me’ duet with Christina Aguilera, the ageless star grinding against her whilst yelping suggestively. The music itself creates a real sense of nostalgia, and you can’t help but smile, something all four Stones do in abundance. A particular highlight is Jagger’s entrance for Sympathy for the Devil following a rare Richards solo. In black feathered coat, Jagger emerges like Beelzebub himself, a bright white light emitting from behind as he skips through the crowd ‘Woo-Wooing’ to the stage. Perhaps the most touching moment comes when Jagger and Richards share a mic during ‘Far Away Eyes’ the pair staring into one another’s eyes, arms round each others shoulders in a manly affection in context with the song. Buddy Guy and Jack White also guest on ‘Champagne and Reefer’ and ‘Loving Cup’ respectively, the Stones smiling in admiration at one and all of their guests - Guy being a particular highlight. But for all the brilliance of the Stones’ music, Marty deserves credit for the intricacy of his shots, highlighting the beauty of the band, the setting and the instruments in a direction never before caught on film. Anyone could shoot a concert film but filming in such a way that does the band or artist justice is a different ball game altogether. Whether anyone other than Marty could have succeeded is certainly an interesting question, as many a director would have gone down the familiar route of drowning out concert footage with documentary overkill. If you were to do a documentary on the Stones any justice it’d have to be an epic, with more twists, turns and chapters than Crime and fucking Punishment. By keeping the footage to a minimal, in context with the Stones’ music and united performance; Jagger’s abounding charisma, Keith and Ronnie’s overlapping guitar skills, Watts’ ability on the sticks and even the backing singers, musicians and bass player Darryl Jones, Marty’s arguably achieved far more in Shine a Light then any ordinary director could. Many would say that Shine a Light is the final chapter in documented footage of the Stones, but as the film suggests, the Rolling Stones continue to defy all odds. They remain as important now as ever, their music changing, blending and sometimes shaping situations through time whilst they remain ever consistent. Shine a Light kicks the doubters and critics that have labeled the band “dinosaurs” and “past it” straight in the bollocks with a steel-capped boot. As Keith would say “it’s one big trip, baby” and Marty takes you on the ride. Martin Scorsese and The Rolling Stones ‘Shine a Light’ will be shown at selected IMAX Cinema’s nationwide, April 11th, certificate 12A. Visit: www.shinealightmovie.co.uk for further information, offers and updates. Words: Dave Dryden
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U23D:
U2 are a rarity; a band who have been plying their trade for over thirty years and yet retain an almost unparalleled ability to sell-out tour after recurring tour. The only band who rival them on such a scale; for sheer volume, showmanship, skill and extravagant-décor are the Rolling Stones. But U2 are our point of concentration; the first rock-band in history to release a three-dimensional concert film: U23D. Words: Dave Dryden The relationship between this here writer and the Irish stadium-fillers has had peeks and troughs. Where once I would play classic albums ‘Achtung Baby’, ‘The Joshua Tree’, and ‘All That You Can’t Leave Behind’, back to back, the inflated ego of singer Bono caused the blossoming flower to wilt and die. It is an opinion greatly shared, that sometimes the fewer words spoken the better. But then, Bono is and never has been your run-of-the-mill rock star; he’s a truly unique, fascinating individual, and for everyone who knocks the frontman for his opinionated political and religious spiel, Bono has twenty followers. U23D was described as “a unique cinematic experience that places viewers within the pulsing energy of a stadium concert”, by Revolver Entertainment, the distributors who are bringing the film to screens in UK and Ireland on February 22nd. The London BFI IMAX will be one of about 66 cinemas to show the film in this country and despite entering the building with a sense of overwhelming dread (a three-dimensional Bono grueling for even the most hardened of hacks to stomach) there remained a smidgen of hope that my once flourishing admiration for the band could be rekindled. Having never entered the IMAX before, I didn’t quite know what to expect, only that the UK’s largest screen and 11,600 watts surround-sound was a pretty astronomical proposition. The film itself was shot early in 2006, during the South- American leg of the band’s sell-out ‘Vertigo’ tour, with the majority of footage taken from the band’s performances at Buenos Aires' River Plate Stadium in Argentina. Given that both venue dates followed an eight-year hiatus in the country, the atmosphere captured; noise, expression and fanaticism, was bound to make for interesting viewing. Unlike most music films where cutting live-performance with backstage footage is a staple, U23D simply showcased the latter. The docu-film aspect was stripped bare, something that could only be achieved with the use of ground-breaking 3D technology. If this had been bog-standard, 2D footage; song after song after song, the magic clouding a band would somewhat dwindle. But having been shot in 3D you’re thrown into the concert; good, bad, warts and all. Frankly, the photos just don't do it justice. Put simply, U23D is the nearest you’ll get to a concert minus the blood, sweat and beer-stains. Oh, and maybe the odd tear following a rendition of ‘One’ or ‘With or Without You’, two of the songs handpicked for the band’s phenomenal encore. Some of the more remarkable shots, and credit not only to the huge camera team that operated on the film, but the stage designers as well, took place when Bono performs on one gangway, deep in the heart of the throbbing masses, and The Edge, or bass player Adam Clayton, perform on a separate gangway. The 3D aspect creates an enormous sense of scale, Bono a three-dimensional spec in the background, surrounded by adoring fans; Clayton or The Edge at the forefront with an overwhelming sea of support in between and surrounding. Yes, there were moments when Bono grated, including a decision to tie a headband around his head, cry for peace, love and harmony, and attempt to reach out to Mohammed. But, boy, can the man sing. Just at the moment you feel like punching the frontman (a realistic proposition when you’re watching the notorious singer in 3D), Bono redeems himself with a perfect rendition of ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’ or ‘Where The Streets Have No Name’. The Edge, Clayton and drummer Larry Mullen Jr. are equally impressive, particularly The Edge, who remains one of the greatest guitarists of his generation. So, having witnessed U23D first-hand, did any of the love that once flowed so freely come flooding back once more? Maybe... Just maybe. You’ll figure out the answer if you too see this ground-breaking, mesmerising, and phenomenal live concert film.
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Double re-release for two classic dance movies Saturday Night Fever and Flashdance
Two of the most celebrated dance films of all time Saturday Night Fever and Flashdance which are being re-released on the 1 st Octoberas special edition DVD’s.Both films are packed with a host of new features bound to interest fans of the film with new content ranging from interactive games and documentaries to dance classes with John Travolta! The re-release of Saturday Night fever also marks the 30 th anniversary of the film. When John Travolta slid across a Day-Glo dance floor bearing the infamous white disco suit, an iconic moment in film was born. Travolta captured the hearts of the world with his portrayal of a struggling working class guy from Brooklyn whose only release was the dance floor and the soulful beats of disco music, brought alive by the legendary Bee Gees. No film has ever been copied, parodied and referenced in popular culture quite as much as the 1983 classic, Flashdance. Whether it’s the ‘chair’ scene in Mawby’s bar or the ‘audition’ scene that clinches the young star’s place in the academy, Flashdance has inspired a long list of pretenders and fashion trends since its release. For further details about both films please visit: http://www.paramount.com/
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Fat Freddys Drop & Inside The Smiths
Fat Freddys Drop & Inside The Smiths
15/09/2007
INSIDE THE SMITHS TIBB STREET FILMS DVD OUT NOW FAT FREDDY’S DROP: FANTASTIC VOYAGES VOLUME 1 DVD OUT NOW Here’s the thing: I know absolutely nothing about music. I used to know loads when I was younger but somehow in the last five years I’ve lost quite literally all of my CDs with the exception of ‘Slippery When Wet’ by Bon Jovi and a copy of ‘Jeremy Clarkson’s Drivetime Rock’ that came free with The Sun in 1998. Bit of a problem really considering I write for a music magazine. If they ever find out about it I’m fucked. So I was a little panicked yesterday morning when I received a bunch of music DVDs to review. These included a film about Fat Freddy’s Drop, who I’ve never heard of, and The Smiths, who I’ve sort of heard of. The Smiths, you might not be aware, were a band in the 80s who made musical songs. Also, I sat next to two guys in primary school called Nathan and Peter Smith. Nathan had really bad eczema and bits of it used to fall off into my pencil case. This, however, isn’t really relevant. ‘Inside The Smiths’ is a documentary about Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke, the drummer and bassist in the band. They recount the journey they made from forming the group in 1982 up until 1987 when Morrissey left to star in ‘Men Behaving Badly.’ That was him right? The main lesson to be drawn from the film is, if you’re going to be a musician, for fuck’s sake don’t be the drummer or the bassist. Hardly anyone will know who you are while you’re in the band and fucking no-one will know you afterwards. It’s all a bit sad watching these two washed-up rock stars reminiscing about the time when they used to be somebody and touring the world in economy class to go to shitty little Smiths nostalgia nights like an indie rock version of Pat Sharpe. You kind of wish someone would just take them aside and enrol them on a Learn Direct computer course so they can make something of their lives. Sad. I get the impression that I might really like Fat Freddy’s Drop. They’re a funky kind of jazz-ska group thing (See! I literally don’t know what I’m talking about) from New Zealand. Sadly the DVD is let down by its impenetrable menu system which tells you nothing about what’s on it or how you get to it. I managed to find a couple of music videos that were quite good and, bizarrely, a recipe section, but that’s about it. There could well be a three hour musical remake of ‘Silence of the Lambs’ on the DVD for all I know, but I’m fucked if I could find out. Maybe you’ll have more luck.
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Unknown
Unknown
14/09/2007
UNKNOWN DVD RELEASED 20 th AUGUST Right. Bit of a complicated one this. Just bear with me… After a violent struggle five men wake up in a remote warehouse with no recollection of who they are and how they know each other. A vat of radioactive waste has been spilled in the fight causing them to pass out and lose their memories. One is tied up, one has had his head kicked in, and another has been handcuffed to a pipe. A mysterious caller phones to inform the others that he has collected the ransom money and he’s on his way to ‘take care of’ the hostages. Problem is no-one knows who they are. Yep. That old chestnut. So, I guess my main thought here is that Hollywood producers seem to have a slightly idealistic faith in the transformative powers of radioactive goo. Having been exposed to a massive dose of poisonous chemicals, the only side effect anyone suffers is short-term memory loss for exactly 82 minutes of suspenseful narrative. Aside from that they’re basically fine. Having done GCSE chemistry (A*: thanks) I can tell you that contact with radioactive material gives you neither memory loss, superhuman powers or makes you The Joker. In reality you just get cancer and then slowly die. Sorry to put a downer on things. That aside, this is actually a really well acted and cleverly structured film. The cast is incredibly strong and includes Joe Pantoliano – Ralphie from The Sopranos – who, I think, is my favourite actor in the world. One thing that weirded me out slightly was the casting of Jim Caviezel – Jesus in ‘The Passion Of The Christ’ - in the main role. He’s very good and everything but it’s just a little bit weird seeing Jesus of Nazareth the son of God and master of the Universe shooting some guy in the face.
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KNOCKED UP
KNOCKED UP
13/09/2007
KNOCKED UP CINEMA OUT NOW It’s the age-old story; successful upwardly mobile television presenter (Katherine Heigl) goes to nightclub, gets pissed, has unprotected sex with roly-poly acerbic jewish stoner (Seth Rogen) and gets up the spout. It sounds more like horror than comedy, but this is the premise of the new film from ‘40 Year Old Virgin’ writer/director Judd Apatow. The press release accompanying the screening talked of Apatow’s ‘consistent ability to take awkward situations we face in our own lives and mine them for optimal laugh-out-loud reactions’ – yet I found this scenario difficult to relate to. This is probably because I am what’s known as ‘middle class’; thereby making me immune from accidentally impregnating people, or indeed consequences in general. The trouble with ‘Knocked Up’ is that it does not know whether it is a romantic comedy or a gross-out frat pack caper, and the two elements do not always sit well together. To be fair, the film has some very funny moments - a heated exchange with a disenchanted bouncer and a mushroom-induced fascination with five different types of chair are both hysterical, as is Heigl and Rogen’s attempt to have sex without harming their unborn child. Yet it lacks a central comedic powerhouse performance that the likes of Steve Carrell and Will Ferrell afford these types of films, and Rogen, whilst certainly funny, lacks the frenetic energy to carry it alone. Ultimately, ‘Knocked Up’ seems to promote the idea that if you are an overweight loser and you manage to drunkenly inseminate a beautiful girl, then eventually she will fall in love with you and you’ll get to keep her. I would test the theory out myself but, of course, that sort of thing would literally never happen to me…
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Shortbus
Shortbus
25/08/2007
Shortbus ‘‘Shortbus’ is a (post?)modern erotic comedy exploring the lives of a group of New Yorkers using sex to symbolise their various emotional problems. Meet Sofia, a sex therapist who (yikes!) has never had an orgasm and James and Jamie, a gay couple trying save their failing relationship with new sexual partners. At Shortbus they discuss art, music and politics. Oh, and fuck the shit out of each other while they’re at it. Director John Cameron Mitchell told me that the aim was to confront the anxiety many of us have regarding sex by examining it up close and uncensored. Being explicit about something diffuses its tension; hence scenes of hardcore Supersex designed to break through the audience’s pain barrier (is that called the hymen?). I’ll happily admit I’m the kind of person whose idea of talking dirty involves using phrases like ‘That’s terrific!’ at various intervals, so I was always going to struggle with the gay threesome where a guy sings ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ at top volume into the parted anus of his boyfriend who himself is using a third man’s erect penis as a microphone. Yep. Just a little bit rich for me. At its most controversial, a guy contorts himself into a fiendish yoga position to perform oral sex on himself. Before seeing ‘Shortbus,’ autofellatio was on the list with paragliding and EuroDisney as things I vaguely wouldn’t mind experiencing some day. However, having now seen it in all its squalid glory – including the climax where he tearfully ejaculates into his own mouth – I’ll leave it. Stealing the show is Justin Bond, playing himself as Shortbus’ mistress. He spouts enigmatic filth like ‘That’s Alice, she’s got a cunt like a wizard’s sleeve,’ before leading us into the ‘Sex Not Bombs Room,’ for a mass orgy. Curiously, the sight of so many lithe naked bodies slithering over each other isn’t that erotic. It reminded me of all the snakes from ‘Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.’ Basically , I wouldn’t describe ‘Shortbus’ as a porn film; the purpose of the sex in this movie isn’t to titillate or arouse. In this post 9/11 world exhausted with the paranoid politics of Blair and Bush, only acts of extreme liberalism can counter the forces of extreme conservatism that control our lives. That at least is the chat-up line I’ll be using at Brannigans tonight. I’ll let you know how I get on... CINEMA UNIVERSAL HOME ENTERTAINMENT [OUT NOW]
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The Chumscrubber
The Chumscrubber
24/08/2007
The Chumscrubber Exposing the murky underbelly of suburban America is hardly an original concept for a movie, but the impressive cast of ‘The Chumscrubber’ promised at least an intelligent and substantial variation on this hackneyed theme. Despite some good performances however, Ralph Fiennes, Jamie Bell et al could not stop this creaky great juggernaut from thundering over the welltrodden path to its inevitably boring conclusion. A botched kidnapping by some drug-hungry teenagers goes too far, whilst the parents of all involved remain oblivious, so wrapped up are they in their nauseatingly suburban lives. Mayhem is wreaked, lessons are learned, order is restored. Yawn. The name ‘Chumscrubber,’ if you’re wondering, refers to the lame computer graphic of a headless boy that pervades the movie. It appears on posters, comic books, and most frequently in a computer game, where the words ‘I am the Chumscrubber’ are repeated in a supposedly terrifying wheezy techno voice. The somewhat surreal presence of the Chumscrubber is reminiscent of the rabbit in Donnie Darko – a much better film, incidentally, of this genre. The Chumscrubber embodies the social diseases that riddle this particular suburban community, but for me it embodies all that is wrong with the movie: it is superficial, derivative, and has been and will be done better elsewhere. CINEMA ICON FILMS [OUT NOW]
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Emmanuelle: Uncut
Emmanuelle: Uncut
23/08/2007
Emmanuelle: Uncut ‘Emmanuelle’ is probably the most famous soft porn movie of all time. If you’re 14 you will fucking love this film. I’m 24 and I quite like it too, though I probably live much the same kind of life as a 14-year-old – better in fact cos I don’t even have to do homework, how cool is that! ‘ Emmanuelle ’ tells the story of a beautiful young French woman who is sexually awakened through a series of erotic adventures (officially the best type of adventure) when she follows her husband to Bangkok. Its star, Sylvia Kristel, is perfectly cast, bringing a sense of innocent purity as well as sexuality to the role. Mind you, that was 30 years ago; I imagine she’s a bit of a jaded old fuck-coffin by now. In almost every way , this is a film designed to help sad single men slap themselves off. It even has its own ‘wanking theme’ – a cheesy musical refrain that comes in just before the sex scenes, presumably to let you know that the good stuff is on its way. Unfortunately, like so many other films of the genre, ‘Emmanuelle’ insists on including a slimy intellectual veneer to justify its existence. Towards the end we meet Mario, an aging lothario who teaches us his Philosophy Of Sex. ‘I want us to journey into the unknown, beyond the looking glass of reality,’ he tells Emmanuelle as she is being done up the bum by a sweaty Thai peasant. If you’re still watching by this stage, it means you’ve got about 5 minutes left so you probably want to crack on. Otherwise this pretentious wank is the only one you’re going to get. DVD OPTIMUM PICTURES [OUT NOW]
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The All Together
The All Together
04/06/2007
"There was this big-jawed yank in a suit, right, waving a gun around – in the middle of the street! – bawling at this preening, cocky little wide boy about whose fault it was that stuff had gone wrong. How messed is that?" This is a sentence I have never heard uttered by a single person. Why, then, is it a scenario I have come across in every British film of the last ten years? Sigh. It is not a trend The All Together seeks to buck. Derivative and comfortable like metaphors about slippers, the film manages to be a pastiche of every Britcom caper you've seen and is remarkable mostly for two things: a dead squirrel with an erection and male characters spending their time on the toilet. Martin Freeman (you know – Tim, Office, etc) hates television. Ergo, he is a TV producer and depressed. His flatmate makes pornographic taxidermy under the ostensible aegis of Art while freeloading off him. Naturally, this status quo cannot remain. Two drawn-out set pieces later, they are the hostages of the aforementioned Noo Yoik mobster and preening young English wannabe desperate to appease him (Danny Dyer, with weird second chin uncredited). Writer-Director Gavin Claxton is an odd man. Never have I, nor (please Lord) will I ever again see the naked, pasty thighs of so many men as they strain to squeeze one out. I also doubt I shall ever see two stuffed foxes in the missionary position again. Which all adds up to classic DVD fayre: several men in a room on sofas scratching their balls and guffawing as their free hand reaches for beer or pizza. And that, I’m sure you'll agree, has its moments. Much like The All Together. THE ALL TOGETHER CINEMA LIONSGATE FILM OUT NOW REVIEW BY MICHAEL LEWIN
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Paradise Lost
Paradise Lost
04/06/2007
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