Here’s the insane summary: Teenage Vic (Don Johnson… yes, that Don Johnson) and his telepathic dog wander the wasteland following a nuclear World War IV, looking for food and adventure. It only gets stranger after that; I’ll just say there’s a marching band in face paint and a machine attached to someone’s crotch.
Kinsey is a calculatingly unsexy movie about sex, which makes sense as Kinsey the scientist approached the subject from the unemotional, unjudgemental viewpoint of a researcher. It’s a biopic along the lines of Ray, The Aviator, or Tucker, with some important differences.
A well-done, heavy docu-drama style film where one person’s situation can be seen as a metaphor for a larger society, namely the drug traffickers, the plight of living in a less-well off nation, and illegal immigrants. Maria is a teenager who is pestered by her family to earn more money and signs up to traffic drugs into the US. She is basically told to swallow 50 or so packets, get on a plane, and meet up with the recipients in New Jersey who basically feed the “mule” girls laxatives until they get their stash.
Our new apartment is within walking distance to the San Mateo movie theaters, so we decided to check out The Devil Wears Prada, a fashion farce based on a book. Anne Hathaway plays Amanda, a recent college grad who becomes assistant to Meryl Streep’s fashion journalist nightmare boss from hell.
This is a David Lynch film, so know what you’re getting into. It has a dusky, morose mood combined with a strange fever-feeling I had as a kid, lying in bed and feeling like body parts are shrinking while everything in the room is alternately too big or too large.