With his good looks, Liev Schreiber (TV's Ray Donovan) seems born to play an astronaut. In Magnet Releasing's The Last Days on Mars, he finally gets the chance. As chief systems officer Vincent Campbell, he's part of Aurora's six-month mission on the red planet with only 19 hours left to go before heading home. What could go wrong?
According to The Slumber Party Massacre, young women love to have group sleepovers so fun that the girls don't have the good sense to leave the house when their party is crashed by the arrival of a drill-wielding serial killer.
We vilify people for bad behavior in real life, yet celebrate it in our entertainment, particularly on the small screen. When the results are as strong as the current crop, all new (or new-ish) to DVD and/or Blu-ray, why question the disconnect?
Prior to his Spider-Man trilogy, director Sam Raimi cut his superhero-movie teeth on 1990's Darkman, a character of his own creation. Although it's clearly not the most polished of his works, the summer sleeper plays even better as the years tick by. Look no further than Shout! Factory's colorful re-release on Blu-ray.
Someday, celebrity cyclist Lance Armstrong may regret hiring Oscar-winning director Alex Gibney to document his 2009 "comeback," but I doubt it. As The Armstrong Lie demonstrates time and again for two mostly gripping hours, the athlete is still unable to tell the whole truth and nothing but.
Renoir 7:30 Thursday, 5:30 and 8 p.m. Friday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday, through June 2 Oklahoma City Museum of Art 415 Couch okcmoa.com 236-3100 $6-$8
It’s not often we get a biopic about one of the master painters, perhaps because the only thing more boring than watching paint dry may be watching someone apply it.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, however, had a rather bawdy explanation of his brush-stroke method, according to the film Renoir. It’s one we can’t print. Hear for yourself when Renoir begins a two-weekend run Thursday at, fittingly, the Oklahoma City Museum of Art.
Directed by Gilles Bourdos, the 1915-set French film captures the Impressionist painter (Michel Bouquet) near the end of his life. Widowed, withered and wheelchair-bound, he spends his days painting nudes outdoors on the French Riviera and his nights racked by severe arthritic pain.
His latest model is the young, spirited Andrée (Christa Théret), whose reclining, unclothed body before him enchants the old man: “What interests me is skin,” he says. “Velvety skin.” She more so enchants his son Jean (Vincent Rottiers), who one day hobbles home on crutches with a war injury.
Slowly and methodically, like Bourdos’ ever-moving camera, the focus shifts to this latter coupling, as Andrée inspires Jean to be the filmmaker he wants to be (and would be, responsible for such classics as Grand Illusionand Rules of the Game).
In doing so, Renoir becomes a dual biopic, depicting the twilight of one master and the dawn of another. With Bourdos doing his best to match the painter’s color palette, the film looks lovely, but comes up short on dramatics.
Save for its Kleenex-worthy ending, the movie is more a story about creative style than familial strain. As the elder Renoir tells the younger, “You can’t explain a painting; you have to feel it. If those [nude models] don’t make you want to caress them, you’ve understood nothing at all.” —Rod Lott