Fontaine's Film Wipe

In 2022, people take the advancement of digital technology for granted. Some suggest that in the next thirty years we'll see artificial intelligence (AI) assert control over humanity. This is understandable, given how far it has come already. But I'm haunted by the suspicion that the cosmos, with its propensity for hurling planet-altering space rocks at Earth every few million years, has its own plans. "The Matrix" is a movie that tells the story of what could happen to us in a universe without those planet-altering rocks. The film, written and directed by the Wachoswkis, raises one niggling question for me: how did they go from "Bound" (1996), to this? "Bound" is a slow-burn neo-noir thriller starring Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly as lesbians who conspire to steal mob money. It's well written, well directed, and left me wanting more. "The Matrix" could not be more different, and while I consider it a commendable change of pace for

Some films are the full package, delivering style and substance in equal measure. Others are more style than substance, and that can be fatal to a movie, but not always - good films tend to be more atmospheric than television shows, for the simple reason that time is against them. It's much harder to connect with audiences in 120 minutes than it is in 120 hours. To achieve maximal effect, directors turn to the most basic device in their creative arsenal: imagery.  In "The Swimming Pool," which is now part of the Criterion Collection, director Jacques Deray ("Three Men to Kill," "He Died With His Eyes Open") makes up for his thin screenplay by focusing less on the actors' lines, and more on the silences between them. His film is exemplary of style over substance. It doesn't hurt that its stars are Alain Delon and Romy Schneider, two beautiful people who could easily captivate audiences without saying a word. Adding a 21 year-old Jane Birkin (of

I should begin with a confession: I have a soft spot for period pieces. Director James Ivory and producer Ismail Merchant made the best of them in the eighties and nineties, having been partners in both the movie business, and in life. Merchant-Ivory Productions released 44 films, but none are as prescient to an audience in 2022 as the 1992 romantic drama, "Howards End."  The film, based on the 1910 novel of the same name by E.M. Forster, brings Forster's themes of class prejudices and social injustices to life. But to stop there would be akin to saying a clicker brings a TV to life; James Ivory's vision for this picture is so brimful with lush color and vivid beauty, that I marvel at how he made a priceless masterpiece of every shot on a budget of $8 million. "Howards End" is a stunning film.  But his genius, and that of screenwriter Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, transcends imagery. "Howards End" reminds me of Woody Allen's joke about how England woul

  Is Paul W.S. Anderson the Bram Stoker of sci-fi? Stoker famously spent a lifetime writing pulp novels, save for one: Dracula, a great work of fiction. Anderson has traced a similar path, directing one artistic dud after another, except for his single well-deserved claim to fame, "Event Horizon."  What could account for this isolated stroke of genius? "Event Horizon" was a box office flop when it was released, but gained traction in the video rental market. This led to Paramount begging the director for a longer cut, so they could make the most of its VHS afterlife. The request was denied because executives had slashed Anderson's editing window from the usual ten weeks to a mere six, and in the ensuing chaos the crew had lost all of the snipped footage.  Why the rush? Paramount expected their upcoming James Cameron drama, "Titanic," to be a super-expensive fail, and figured they had to get Anderson's picture in theaters before that happened, or hi

  For me, seeing "The Batman" raised a fundamental question about the world: Does it really need another Batman movie? I count nine in total, starting with the "original" Michael Keaton/Tim Burton "Batman" (1989) and "Batman Returns" (1992), all the way through Val Kilmer's "Batman Forever" (1995) and George Clooney's "Batman & Robin" (1997), until we finally exit the nineties and get a few years of reprieve. Then from 2005 to 2012 the caped crusader's cowl is donned by Christian Bale, who stars in three features directed by Christopher Nolan, each one more tedious than the last.  Following Nolan's trilogy is Ben Affleck's surprisingly interesting take on the character in 2016's "Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice," which is a terrible film, save for the brief glimpses of Affleck in what is arguably the greatest batsuit ever committed to celluloid, playing the character as the brainy gumsh

  Dan Petrie's "Lifeguard" was clearly inspired by Clint Eastwood's May/December romantic drama "Breezy," which was released three years prior. Petrie's picture was filmed and finished in the summer of 1975, but kept in the cooler for a year before it hit theaters, probably because Paramount knew it had an inferior film on its hands, and needed time to mull it over. In the end we got a cheap imitation of the kind of story that can reveal a studio's greatest strengths or its worst shortcomings.  The problem is the writing; the cast is comprised of several talented actors, all of whom manage commendable performances, despite a Swiss cheese script. Sam Elliott is Rick Carlson, Southern Californian lifer of a lifeguard who finds himself professionally and romantically adrift in his mid-thirties. (His plight is the only aspect of the film that resonates in 2022.) Rick is the guy some women consider a "project," i.e., he's irresistibly sexy,