Results tagged “quentintarantino”

It’s the final day of the festival, which is always rather maudlin one—although for those of us who try to cover it, the festival is largely a far too hectic, busy period of time, once things start to slow down the sudden lack of pressure is terribly deflating. Never mind—we’ll have some wrap up coverage for you next week. Tonight’s closing gala is Emotional Arithmetic, reviewed by Jonathan Goldsbie at the very beginning of our TIFF 2007 coverage. He called it a “highly-polished drama” but noted that it “plays out exactly as one would expect and is only rarely revelatory.” Head along to Roy Thompson Hall tonight to catch your last glimpse of the glamour and pageantry of the festival.

Now here is an interesting thought, readers. Grindhouse, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez’ homage to classic trashy double bills comes out this week, and, if you want to see it, you have to see it in a multiplex, because not one of the independent cinemas here (or we imagine anywhere else) are showing it.

Sound poetry is not really cool. Oh sure, maybe it was cool. In the Da-Da salons of Paris, it was avant-garde. And in a bedroom at bpNicol's cottage, spouting out sound poems between long drags on the hookah was probably genuinely far-out, man. But somewhere along the way, sound poetry became hokey. As much a hippy-relic as Patchouli and beaded vests.

Happy New Year, film fans! Or, perhaps, not. For we’ve slammed like so much booze filled new year vomit upon the tarmac of the post-Christmas lull, in which basically nothing of interest is released in any format. Certainly this week fans of more high brow cinema will have to hang on like those last few drips of chunky bile saliva for Cinematheque Ontario’s winter programme, starting on January 13th, which we’ll probably talk about then, and which features yet more Mikio Naruse, but lots of other exciting stuff like a limited run of The Passenger, the long lost hidden by Jack Nicholson flick.

Though based out of New York City, Shivaree's sound harkens to a place far removed from the big city. Their unique blend of smoky, torch songs and deep Western twang conjures images of some mythical cabaret in the Arizona desert. Front and centre are the bewitching vocals of Ambrosia Parsley, by turns wry, sad, innocent and seductive often in the same verse. Combined with some very sharp songwriting and musical arrangements, Shivaree definitely bring something new to the table.

Remember when Val Kilmer was a Top Gun actor? Quentin Tarantino even wrote hip pop-culture dialogue about his character. Well Iceman, you're not so hot anymore. Maybe it started with your second-rate Batman (although George Clooney seems to have recovered just fine.) Or perhaps it was when you chose to play William DeKooning to the far more interesting Jackson Pollack (specious Toronto segue: The AGO presents Willem de Kooning: A Painters Painter. The lecture is on Tuesday from 7 to 8:30 p.m.) But whatever the case, you came full circle last year when you actually played a character from a Tarantino dialogue, you John Holmes mutherf---er. And now, now you're playing Colin Farrell's father in Alexander! To add insult to injury, it looks like they wanted Chandler Bing for the part. (P.S. Gore Vidal, why aren't you defending this bisexual instead?) What would Jim Morrison say about you anyway, Val? "Riders on the storm/ Riders on the storm/ Into this house we're born/ Into this world we're thrown/ Like a dog without a bone/ An actor out alone/ Riders on the storm."