1. If 'bonuses' are not tied to individual or corporate performance, and must be paid even if the employee has left the company...then why are they called bonuses? Why aren't the amounts just added into the employee's salary? Hmmm...something is surprisingly fishy with the way these financial guys do business...who would have seen that coming? In slightly-related news, wow.
2. How can a film critic worth a damn equate Julia Roberts and Clive Owen to Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant with a straight face? If you don't believe me, watch the laughable trailer. The uninspired 'banter' reminds me of a bad local news broadcast, except without the energy. Did Julia Roberts even realize she was supposed to be mysterious, witty, and charismatic? Did she record her dialogue over the phone? It seems like her agent told her she was in Hook again. Bottom line: if you can't even cut a trailer with some energy to it, the movie will certainly fall flat.
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1 comment:
The camera work on Ms Roberts, (who is a beautiful woman), focused on her few flaws. That unnecessarily made her appear older and over road [sic] her acting. I know cameramen know how to soften enough to remove a few eye wrinkles. Her wardrobe of short sleeved polyester dresses showed unattractive arm flab and a tummy pouch. Clearly the costume person didn't do her job. Her hair appeared to have split ends. The makeup didn't help her any either. Anyway all that made it visually irritating to watch. Didn't the Director notice any of this? (NYT reader comment)
Um, more importantly Julie Roberts' mouth has always looked like she could deep throat my boot. Which is not attractive. Who cares about "arm flab and a tummy pouch"? Cheesecake-eating Oprah housewives, that's who.
However, in the spirit of lemons into lemonade, howbout a G.T. Charlie list of best heist/espionage and/or romantic sparring flicks sadly neglected in this era of Clooney, et alii?
I've always loved some of the scenes in Charade, for example (wait for it), but hesistate to recommend overall. The film seems a little uncomfortable somehow; a 40s studio legacy dropped down into the 60s. Grant comes off as a little old for the role, ready to retire, and... just keeps acting, well, really gay. Moreso than the premise would seem to require. Which is fine and everything, but doesn't make for convincing romantic closure - leaving Hepburn to jump from one dead loveless marriage into another.
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