It was as raw and experimental as the New Orleans jazz that provided its heartbeat.
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James Franco is both the best and the worst thing about “Homefront,” the new backwoods thriller in which Jason Statham turns rednecks into broken-necks.
How good is “Dallas Buyers Club”? Matthew McConaughey shed nearly 50 pounds for his role, blows the walls off of whatever boxes Hollywood has put him in and doesn’t utter a single “awright, awright, awright.”
“The Hunger Games: Catching Fire” should more than satisfy the cravings of fans who’ve spent the 20-month gap between movies quivering with anticipation.
Unless you’ve spent the past few weeks under a rock — assuming that rock lacked access to Wi-Fi, cellular data and over-the-air TV and radio transmissions, as well as run-of-the-mill chatterboxes — you’re now painfully aware that Friday marks the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy assassination.
Just you and Robert Redford. On a boat. With no one around for miles.
“Thor” was half of a very good superhero movie. Thrust into a civilization of Earthlings he couldn’t quite comprehend, Chris Hemsworth’s swaggering Asgardian made for some delightful god-of-thunder-out-of-water moments.
It’s not the kind of thing most moviegoers are itching to see.