A pilot who is an alcoholic, a cancer patient and a drug addict recovering from a heroin overdose meet in a stairwell. It sounds like the beginning of a lurid joke but this is the world of Flight, the new film from director Robert Zemeckis that takes a borderline farcical approach to addiction that’s so heavy-handed it could be added to the weight program at a gym.
Oscar winning director Robert Zemeckis (Forrest Gump and the Back to the Future Trilogy) returns to live action with an alcohol addled anti ‘hero -complex’ antidote to the children’s stories he’s been crafting into ground-breaking…
Just when you thought that Robert Zemeckis’ (Forrest Gump) return to live action cinema (after a decade of performance capture animated features) was going to be a disaster film, it takes a surprising turn following…
From the epic opening calamity to the downward spiral of its central character, it’s a film about going down in flames, one way or and another. And yet, Flight manages to soar.
Roman Holiday certainly deserves its place in the canon of great classic films, and is an absolute treat to experience. Read more →
Exactly fifty years ago, The Leopard won the Palm D’or at the 1963 Cannes Film Festival, and this is why. Read more →
So now on to some reasons WHY Singin’ in The Rain (co-directed by greats Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen) is so beloved … Read more →
Kern Saxton, the writer, producer, editor, director and star of 'Sushi Girl' sat down with Graffiti With Punctuation to share his pick for a Five Star Film. Read more →
TK: "I think that 'Fargo' is a superb film." Read more →
“And too much of your butt? Impossible!” I said [to Matt Damon], because I’m shameless.
As my friend’s alarm clock signalled the start of another Cannes day, I tentatively opened my eyes, scared to feel the presence of a hangover. There was none, and I was relieved that I had enough sense to stop after a few glasses of champagne last night, which was flowing freely at the Weinstein party.
It’s amazing how the weather can affect your mood. Walking out into the sun this morning, seeing the rain cleaned streets sparkle in the sun, I almost wanted to kick up my heels, pull out some jazz hands and possibly break into song. If only I could sing.
After yet another pain au chocolat for breakfast, I walked through some relentless rain, cursing my giant umbrella. Here in Cannes, the smartest guys are the umbrella sellers posted on every corner.
Waking with a start, my tired eyes struggled to focus. Wait, where am I? I asked myself, and… am I late for something?
