I wonder if this film would have drawn so much press if William Friedkin ("The French Connection", "The Exorcist") hadn't directed it. It's somewhat silly to speculate, though, since no one except Friedkin could have made this movie how he did.

I'm not quite certain what to say about the film. It definitely has a minor amount of disturbing sexual and physical brutality, but what's more unsettling is how thoroughly unlikable the main characters are and the things they do. Don't get me wrong: the lead actors are extremely compelling. It's just that the people whom they portray are totally hateful and/or idiotic and/or bizarre. Matthew McConaughey is sinister in the title role of a detective who does assassinations on the side; Thomas Haden Church is eye-rollingly slow as the easily manipulable father; Emile Hirsch is the selfish "brain" (or lack thereof) behind the putative hit on his mother; Gina Gershon oozes skankiness as the stepmother; and Juno Temple is frighteningly simple as Dottie, whom the rest of the family sacrifices to Joe's pederastic urges in order to pay off their debt.

The story is entirely plausible and has some not-entirely-unpredictable-but-still-satisfying turns. The ending does not tidily wrap everything up. And I agree with another reviewer that I'll be avoiding fried chicken for a while. Despite its shortcomings, though, this film deserves praise for its strong acting; its unflinching portrayal of the mundane depths of some people's depravity; and Friedkin's unwavering commitment to make people think, and have nightmares about, what he shows.

I would unquestionably rent this film before committing to a purchase. It won't be joining my collection any time soon, but Friedkin/McConaughey/Thomas HC fans may want to add it to their library, given that it is a highly unconventional and original work.

Klipsch makes great home theatre speakers, and this sub is no different. Its price is mid-range, but it delivers huge bass at a reasonable price. As of 2013, it's still a current-generation sub (first started being produced in 2010), and it's still holding up its own. You can find its full specs on the Klipsch website at dubdubdub dot klipsch dot com slash sw-112-subwoofer

The company currently listing this sub on amazon.ca is AVGear, based out of Brampton, Ontario. It's not clear to me that AVGear is an authorized dealer of Klipsch products, which is important because only authorized dealers allow the consumer to qualify for the 5-year manufacturer's warranty. AVGear is listing the price of this sub as $450, but I just picked one up at Future Shop on sale for $500...and I definitely get the warranty because Future Shop is an authorized dealer.

If you're in Canada, another option is to go through ebay and hit up sound_distributors--they're based in the US, but are authorized dealers and have a full line-up of Klipsch equipment available. You'll pay a bit for customs and brokerage fees, but you also have peace of mind.

Anyway, for the price ($450-500) great sub for AV or stereo.

Little Lola--unpopular, eager, and eccentric--wants a date to the prom. She falls for her schoolmate Brent, a brooding young man who doesn't even know she exists.

Brent is out on the hill by his house one evening, listening to music on his headphones and gazing wistfully at the scenery. He doesn't notice his abductor creeping on him, and he is captured without much of a struggle. When he comes to, he finds out much more about Lola than he ever cared to know.

What makes this film even more gripping and shocking than the inhumane physical torture to which Brent is subjected (which is thankfully somewhat restrained) is the mindset and behaviour of his captors. What they inflict on Brent is bizarre and barbaric, but it's what they say and how they treat each other that makes this movie so unequivocally messed up. It has its share of laughs (nervous ones, at least) and a heart-wrenching rescue subplot once Brent's family and friends realize he is missing.

Robin McLeavy, who plays Lola, is spectacularly engrossing, hilarious, and chilling. She is the standard by which I will judge all future horror villainesses, and this film is the standard by which I will judge all future psychological horror films.

Despite its excellence, it's hard to justify dropping $45 (its current selling price on amazon.ca) on any film, no matter how good it is. The very fact that I'm contemplating doing so, though, is proof positive that this is a film you have to get your hands on by any means necessary. It makes no sense that the DVD through amazon.co.uk is just under 6 pounds (9 for the Blu-Ray) and $20 on amazon.com. If you have a multiregional player, get this film through the UK version of amazon.

Vincent Gallo plays an Islamist insurgent named (surprise!) Mohammed. At the beginning of the movie, he bazookas three American soldiers into smithereens somewhere in the desert--to some degree in self-defence. He's captured by American troops; detained and brutally interrogated along with other ostensible "enemies of the state"; and taken to Poland. While being transported in the Polish winter wilderness, the van in which he's travelling rolls down a hill, flips, and spits out its cargo. Mohammed doesn't think twice about booking it, and the remainder of the movie shows his attempts--successful and otherwise--at evading recapture and surviving the hostile environmental elements.

As the movie goes on, and eventually ends, there doesn't seem to be much in terms of a larger struggle. Even though I expected him to try to James Bond-style his way onto an aircraft to get home, Mohammed's adventures are much smaller in scale. He doesn't even make it to an even remotely densely populated area, which takes away the potential for an exploration of culture clash. What he's clashing with, instead, are the adverse elements in the boreal forest--cold, traps, lack of food and shelter, and enemies coming for him. All can hope for is to survive another day--never mind jacking a jet to fly home to safety.

There really isn't a single killing during the course of the movie that could be considered "essential" because of imminent danger. He kills the three soldiers at the beginning despite the fact that they haven't even detected him, he kills two men in a vehicle with which he needs to escape, and he kills a forester who discovers him among the trees. In Mohammed's mind, the killings may be necessary, but because we have no idea what kind of man he is, it's hard for us to know exactly how he's justifying these murders.

Gallo does an okay job of conveying Mohammed's bewilderment and fear, but his portrayal lacks depth and nuance: at no point does he appear to draw on some inner strength, faith, or memory. His desperation is clear, but one wonders why he doesn't just crawl into a ball and let himself freeze to death if he's so darn hopeless. Again, there's very little context to explain his decision to keep not-so-calm and carry on. The fact that he has no dialogue is somewhat remarkable--but haven't we all talked ourselves through difficult times, or even prayed? A simple sentence or two would have done much to shed some light on his state of mind and personality.

This film is a nice departure from the all-too-common glorifying of state-sanctioned torture and vilifying of anyone with darker skin and hair which is apparent in most post-9/11 movies dealing with this subject matter. It's just too bad the creators didn't seem to know what kind of major challenges (or resolution) to have the protagonist experience...other than an hour of him walking through the woods. It's also unfortunate that after 90 minutes of watching him, I still have no idea what makes Mohammed tick--he might as well have been Guillermo from the Philippines.

This isn't a movie. This is cinema. Colours, moods, light, and emotions abound, but there is nothing so concrete as a storyline that one can hang one's hat on. And it's definitely worth a watch.

We discover early on in the film that its protagonist, Mr. Oscar, has nine "appointments" in Paris today. He travels to each appointment in a white limousine, driven by Céline, his handler and chauffeure. Each of his rendezvous demands specific costumes, props, behaviour changes, and languages. Denis Lavant, who plays Mr. Oscar, is quite the chameleon. He loses himself in each role, from an elderly Russian female mendicant to a scarred and taut killer to an accordion-playing member of an up-tempo flash mob jamming in a church. If there doesn't seem to be any continuity to the appointments--which are more like vignettes--that's because there aren't any, except for the mysterious and charming Mr. Oscar himself.

An hour and a half of disparate events unfolded without my noticing. Even without having an obvious focal point as far as the story is concerned, the film was still visually and thematically tantalizing, and Denis Lavant quite engrossing. I thought the film lost steam towards its conclusion, but the director (Leos Carax) has crafted something so bizarre, yet appealing, that one would have to be a Philistine not to recognize, and ideally admire, this work of celluloid art.

Thirteen-year-old Nicholas Barclay lives with his mother and uncle in San Antonio. He goes missing in 1994 while on his way home from the basketball court. His tale would have been like so many unfortunate others if it hadn't been for the machinations of Frédéric Bourdin.

This documentary film reveals early on that young Nicholas' identity has been appropriated by Bourdin, ostensibly in order to satisfy his emotional and developmental deficits. In 1997 (three years after Nicholas' disappearance), Bourdin contacts the local police from a phone booth where he's currently living in Spain. With a modicum of cleverness, plenty of pluck, and a massive amount of sheer dumb luck, Bourdin continues to spin his lies until the authorities (including the US embassy in Spain) and the Barclay family collude with him to "bring him home". It's difficult to say which aspect of the story is the most astounding: Bourdin's audacious mendacity (he tells the FBI and reporters that he was kidnapped by military personnel along with dozens of other children and forced to endure horrific assaults while being regularly moved from place to place); his nominal (but seemingly effective) physical transformation not being scrutinized sooner; or the fact that his "family" and players in the judicial system on both sides of the Atlantic being completely taken in by "The Chameleon" (as Bourdin likes to be known).

The film is illuminating for several reasons. It begs questions about Bourdin's motivations and provides insight into those who steal others' identities. Using a combination of historical footage (such as interviews with reporters, home video footage of his arrival to the US) and present-day dialogue, Bourdin alternately comes off as being inadequate, cunning, charming, and repellent. This makes the eponym of "The Chameleon" all the more fitting. The film also provides insight (and also leaves some questions unanswered) as to how and why a family could be so taken in my such lies. Did they want Nicholas back that badly because they missed him? Or is there an ulterior motive for them to overlook Bourdin's physical and interpersonal inconsistencies?

The case is broken by a private investigator and a psychiatrist. With thirty minutes left in the film and Bourdin exposed, he has one final trick up his sleeve that puts the film into overdrive and caused my jaw to drop.

The biggest strength of the film is obviously the story. Truth really is stranger than fiction. It's also quite visually strong: the cinematography of San Antonio conveyed suburban Americana very well. Where it falls short is its over-reliance on fade-outs and re-enacted/dramatized segments. For the film to be credible, I thought it should stick to interviews with the participants and historical footage and not dress itself up too much.

At any rate, this is a film highly worth watching. It would please a wide range of audiences, from those who wish simply to escape via an entertaining story to those who wish to learn about human nature and psychology. Replay value may not be high, but at least watch it through Netflix or iTunes, then decide whether you want to buy it or not.

The opening shots of "Compliance" include stills of urban decay and crumbling infrastructure. This is perhaps a lead-in to the theme of how fragile trust, compassion, and human relationships can be when we are under significant stress.

The store manager at a fast-food restaurant, Sandra, is berated by a profane supplier who's offloading some crates from his truck. He curses her because he had to make a rush bacon delivery due to someone having left the freezer open at the ChickWich restaurant overnight. Consummately professional, Sandra thanks the man and continues on with her day. She's nervous about telling her branch manager about the loss of product as well as the prospect of a "secret shopper" coming that afternoon.

She has a lot on her plate, and it's going to be one of those days.

A man purporting to be a police officer by the name of Daniels phones the restaurant. He tells Sandra that he has evidence that one of her employees, Becky, has stolen money from a customer. Using this premise as well as his sociopathic wiles, the ostensible cop is able to have Sandra, Becky, and other people in the restaurant perpetrate and submit to increasingly intrusive, demeaning, and abusive acts.

It's frightening that this story is based on true events (no, not like "The Mothman Prophecies". It's quite accurate.), but it's understandable how in the heat of the moment, up against so much pressure and the manipulator's incredible technique--alternating between fraternization, derision, compliments, and threat of punishment--that the people involved would act as they did. It's only in the cold light of day, with room to breathe and time to think, that a person can truly appreciate how absolutely insanely everyone has behaved.

The actors--especially those who play Sandra (Ann Dowd, who won a National Board of Review award for Best Supporting Actress) and Officer Daniels (Pat Healy)--disappear into their roles and are completely on-point. The plot moves forward at a steady pace as the temperature is slowly increased until the situation threatens to boil over completely.

Unnerving but never gratuitous, gripping but never sensationalizing or glamourizing, director Craig Zobel (co-creator of Homestar Runner, of all things!) has managed to make a film that is as informative as it is enthralling. Fully worth a rental and, for those who appreciate its obvious psychological and philosophical elements, a purchase.

I understand the love for this movie. It gets a few things right. Unfortunately, I think it also gets a lot of things wrong. No spoilers ahead.

I assure you that I had no bias going into this movie: I haven't seen an Almodóvar film before. I've heard of him and the lavish praise heaped upon him, but that's it.

The film starts out quite promisingly with a physician culturing skin from pig's blood and transplanting said skin upon a seemingly willing, but confined, beautiful young woman. Reference is made to the doctor having lost his wife in a fire and to the ostensible captive-yet-not woman's previous attempts at self-harm...so there is at least an attempt at suggestion and nuance that evokes a not altogether sinister, but intriguing, sentiment about the setting and characters.

It's all downhill from there. Details about the major players' pasts are revealed in a languorously detailed and laboured flashback that makes up half of the two-hour movie. This saps any momentum going into the big "reveal" about 30 minutes from the end, so the film's essential twist comes off without much of a bang. Truth be told, I laughed when it dawned on me what was going on. And it wasn't one of those, "Oh my God! This is incredible and mind-blowing!" reverential kind of laughs. It was one of those, "Really? That's what you're doing?" derisory kind of laughs. A decent editor would have scrapped at least 20 minutes of the extraneous or mind-numbingly dull footage (e.g., an intruder shows up to the doctor's house early in the film: his presence is as inexplicable and useless in the grand scheme of things as his exit).

Other than a few moments of titillating, perverse discomfort thanks to the director's commitment to the theme of taboo sexuality, the film is lacking in tautness or success in eliciting sympathy (or any strong emotion, as far as that goes) for any of the protagonists--this, in spite of one critic referring to it as a "truly macabre suspense thriller" (macabre, sure; suspense thriller, not so much), or, in Almodóvar's own words: "a horror story without screams or frights". Maybe something got lost in translation, but in my book a film without screams or frights, or even a hint of unease, can't be a horror movie.

The last few minutes of the film play out pretty much as one would expect, which further increases the likelihood of it being consigned to oblivion. Much more could have been done with the concept of captivity and moulding (the doctor's bonsai hobby was an interesting and clever addition), but Almodóvar seemed to want to spend a whole bunch of time where he really needn't, then take the easy way out at the end--to the detriment of the rest of the picture.

It's visually striking, and the lead actors are fine. Banderas isn't oozing his usual charm, which is both a nice change and a disappointment; Elena Anaya, who plays the "patient", flies a bit under the radar and doesn't bring as much depth to the role as I thought it merited, but was convincing enough. Unfortunately, those meagre achievements just aren't enough for me to overlook some of what I think are major deficiencies.

It's on Netflix right now, so you can't go wrong with watching it to make up your own mind, but if you want an honest opinion about whether to drop the cash for this on amazon, I say: "Save your money for pork rinds." As far as the body horror genre goes, Cronenberg's surgical technique makes Almodóvar look like a visually impaired butcher's apprentice. Watch "Dead Ringers", then let me know how you feel about this film.

V/H/S, a point-of-view horror anthology, is like a tasting menu. The five vignettes, along with the over-arching main story, are each directed by different people. This allows for a varied experience in terms of characters, setting, development of supernatural/evil elements, and insertion of other genres (comedy, erotica, etc.). Chances are that if you don't enjoy one particular arc all that much, there will be at least two or three that you find enjoyable.

A band of thieves are commissioned to break into a house to steal a particular videotape. There are several such tapes. They'll have to start watching them to see which one is the right one...

I watched this film late at night by myself with the lights turned off. Even though I didn't find it frightening enough to jump out of my seat a single time, there were numerous occasions when I shook my head, eyes plastered to the screen, a simmering unease and terror taking hold of me.

Some reviewers fault the movie because of their incredulity as far as why there would be video footage of all of these occurrences: this is a relatively minor criticism. The film is internally consistent, and the mere existence of videotapes documenting the harrowing events is hardly the least believable aspect of this movie. I also appreciate how the filmmakers refrained from taking the gore and sexual elements to over-the-top, campy levels. Less is more, but trust me: this film has plenty. The last vignette, directed by the ensemble Radio Silence, stands out as having the best developed characters, the most interesting story, and the highest Freakiness Factor. But don't take my word for it.

V/H/S, like the tasting menu I compared it to, may not be the finest meal I've ever had, but it's enjoyable, memorable, and creative. True horror fans will probably want to purchase a copy for repeat viewings; amateurs should probably rent it first before deciding to add it to their collection.

I saw this with my wife at her behest. There was nothing else in theatres that I wanted to see, and this was playing in a small, independent theatre in Edmonton. No, I didn't need the brownie points. I wanted to see something different. You know, non-Hollywood. And this theatre's got great ambiance, so I agreed. Plus Emma Watson's in it, and she's fantastic as Hermione in those boy wizard films.

The plot isn't anything very special. Awkward boy in high school by the name of Charlie. Clearly has skeletons lurking in his closet. He befriends a flamboyantly-unconventional-and-haters-be-darned senior (Patrick) and Patrick's step-sister, Sam--a kind, popular, beautiful young lady with whom Charlie's immediately smitten (despite the fact that he hasn't a hope in heck of getting with her). Patrick and Sam, along with Charlie's English teacher (Mr. Anderson, played by Paul Rudd, who doesn't act like a total doofus for once) help Charlie through his troubled times. They help him open his mind, try new things, and discover how to trust. Okay, and how to love. Sheesh.

Like I said, the plot isn't THAT special. What made this movie so enjoyable (for me) was how these young people weren't made into annoyingly precocious caricatures that so many films decide is a great idea. These characters are plausible and played to the hilt each in their own way. Ya, Ezra Miller (as Patrick) stole the show for me (he was very good in "We Need to Talk About Kevin" as well), but Emma Watson (Sam) and Logan Lerman (Charlie) do a great job too. These young people aren't just mini-adults with grown-up problems. They are genuine, nuanced, teachable, vulnerable...and resilient.

Excellent work by the film's screenwriter and director, Stephen Chbosky, who also wrote the novel upon which it's based. He strays from being too heavy-handed or whimsical.

There's nothing shocking, or even all that edgy, about this film. That's okay; there's plenty of realistic conflict, heartbreak, and eventual triumph (even if it is only a small measure). In fact, as far as realism goes, the element of the film that rings least true for me is that none of the kids know that their mysterious (and highly awesome) "Tunnel Song" is David Bowie's "Heroes". For shame!

Don't be shy. If your partner wants to see this film, you could do MUCH worse. I know I haven't seen much better in quite some time as far as "chick flicks" go, but to relegate this movie to the same pile of trite, superficial pap as the rest of its supposed genre is to do it a gross disservice.