Today, Valley Of The Dolls, based on the book of the same name, comes off as darned campy which wasn’t the original intent. Many of its topics (drug addiction, homosexuality, pornography, and the cruel show business machine) once controversial and shocking, now seem tame. So we have actresses looking dour and pensive regarding matters Lindsay Lohan would consider sobriety. The result is overacting (camp) and at worst, much ado about nothing (boring).

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Here’s a light snack respite from the bad movie celebration for - a new bad movie. Well, not super-bad, just dull and predictably boring. Which is a shame, because one of the film’s highlights is Catherine Zeta-Jones with a dab of tiramisu on her lips. It’s a simple romantic comedy based on the German film Mostly Martha (which I haven’t seen).

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Runaway is a real “meh” movie. It has one thing going for it, a story by Michael Crichton, the same writer responsible for The Andromeda Strain, Westworld, and Jurassic Park. However, the special effects are extremely dated (even for an eighties film), the music is odd, and there are no notable performances.

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After watching Planet of the Apes I added some Charlton Heston films to my Netflix queue, hence this review of 1963’s Diamond Head, set in Hawaii of 1959. I grew up in Honolulu so this film was mix of amusement and annoyance. The film deserves a lot of credit for tackling the testy issue of interracial romance, but otherwise it’s unquestionably dated, and ultimately I only found it entertaining as a film record of late fifties Hawaii.

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The best thing about The Prince and Me is Julia Stiles - reliably competent, with a maturity that eludes other actresses her age. She plays the brainy and determined college student Paige Morgan, pursuing her dream of becoming a doctor. Meanwhile, playboy prince Eddie of Denmark (Luke Mably) decides to visit the Wisconsin college Paige attends to see “girls gone wild.” Upon meeting, she rightly finds Eddie ridiculous - but since this is a romantic comedy, falls for him anyhow.

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If you can’t say anything nice it’s better not to say anything at all. But, I’ll still blog. Let me preface this largely annoyed review by saying this movie wasn’t for me.

I’m not above romantic comedies; I enjoyed: Thirteen Going On Thirty, Music and Lyrics, and the British varieties of Notting Hill, About A Boy, and Love Actually. I’d even recommend Sweet Home Alabama or that other Reese Whitherspoon flick where she was a ghost in Mark Ruffalo’s North Beach apartment (although contrived, it at least had me wondering what would happen next).

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This is a short review. The Island is directed by Michael Bay, and that alone should indicate if this film is for you. He directed Pearl Harbor and Armageddon, which starred an asteroid and Ben Affleck in a supporting role.

Bay’s film-making is woefully haphazard: random camera angles, constant movement, macho posturing, and explosions galore. Just imagine the cinematography of an action sequence applied to an entire movie. Some may pump their fists in glee, while I reach for the Dramamine.

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As a fan of Woody Allen’s older films who was really impressed by Match Point, I’m sad to say I really hated Scoop - despite featuring Scarlett Johansen and England, as did Match Point. Therefore, more blame is reserved for Allen.

Melinda and Melinda was two films in one: a comedy and a thriller, each starring the same actress (Radha Mitchell) where much of the fun was the cutting back and forth between the two. Match Point and Scoop could be seen as separate explorations of these two halves, both starring Scarlett Johansen.

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An inspired moment in Shopgirl transpires as Ray Porter (Steve Martin), a much older, independently wealthy businessman, sits on much younger Mirabelle Buttersfield’s (Claire Danes) futon in her humble, one bedroom apartment before one of their first dates. She offers him a glass of of cheap, white, refrigerated wine. Ray takes the glass out of politeness, smirks a bit, and with a pained expression, fumbles over whether or not to drink it. Wordlessly, it’s clear he doesn’t want it, as it’s a beverage far below his usual, refined taste.

Upon seeing this, my alarm bells went off. This guy is a jerk. It’s a glass of free wine, offered by someone who can’t afford better. Either politely say “no thanks, I’m driving,” or suck it up and fake a smile. But it’s a revealing moment, and pretty much sums up the hands-off relationship Ray ensues with Mirabelle - and why their relationship is doomed from the start. He sees her as pitifully beneath him.

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This is the film version of a hit Broadway musical that was based on a Mel Brooks film: an inverted, laughable situation that unfortunately, this film never touches on. The basic gist is that Broadway producers Max Bialystock (Nathan Lane) and Leo Bloom (Matthew Broderick) strive to stage a play so terrible that it’s a guaranteed flop - allowing them to run off with the investor’s money. Could this business model be applied to a Silicon Valley startup? Never mind.

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