Posts Tagged ‘Street’
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While shooting on Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street had Leonardo DiCaprio looking bright-eyed and ready to face the day, the film seems to have sucked all the romance and comedy out of the face of co-star Matthew McConaughey. Spotted on the streets of Manhattan, McConaughey looked oddly emaciated, the 30 pounds the actor reportedly dropped for his Wolf role seeming to have mostly drained from his sullen mug. It’s a surprisingly un-hunk-like look for the star, but on the plus side, his Texan Napoleon Dynamite routine is now really spot-on, so he has that.
Below, another photo from the set, offering confirmation that, while his shirt stayed atop his newly-sunken chest, McConaughey sure as hell squeezed some sandal-wearing in.
‘House at the End of the Street’ Trailer: Jennifer Lawrence Runs Through Horror Tropes, in a Tank Top
Hey, it’s Jennifer Lawrence! I know her from that Hunger Games! Those are her boobs! I guess I will see this incredibly generic-looking movie then!
I’m assuming that is roughly what Relativity Media is hoping you’ll say after this first trailer House at the End of the Street. Originally slated for a February release and then bumped to April, only to be bumped again, the film is obviously not an exciting priority for the studio. The film does at least have the popular Hunger Games girl in it, though, and she does jiggle around in a tank top, so Relativity is now going to try a late-September opening–squeezed in after the summer blockbusters and before the fall prestige films–and see if anyone will see it as an extremely early Halloween scare.
But release date shuffling appears to be but a small portion of House at the End of the Street‘s problems. Judging by this trailer, the entire film looks as uninspired as its exceedingly imitative, “IT IS A HOUSE AND THIS IS WHERE IT’S LOCATED” title. Beginning with the aforementioned white tank top–clearly cribbed from Jessica Biel’s groundbreaking bounce-work in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake–the preview from there continues on its mission to show us things recycled countless times before: a filthy babe running around with a knife, a creepy long-haired girl in a nightgown, a dead-eyed weirdo neighbor, a recent movie to a new home with A DARK SECRET, and so on. It’s nearly a pretty funny spoof, if only Elisabeth Shue could evoke the same levity as a Wayans brother. Something to aim for career-wise, Liz.
Uwe Boll has already addressed the atrocities of the Holocaust with both subtle drama and morbid obesity. Now the Postal director is ready to move on to the modern crimes of the financial sector with The Bailout, a new film that will personify the ramifications of the Wall Street meltdown by showing one guy shooting some other guys.
Set to start shooting in Vancouver next month, The Bailout centers on a man named Jim, described as “an average New Yorker who loses everything because of the 2008 Wall Street financial crisis.” Due to Jim’s obvious frustration–and due to this being an Uwe Boll film–Jim goes on a shooting spree, assassinating those investment bankers that wronged him. After all, this is Uwe Boll, the director who notoriously followed through on offers to literally fight any critics willing to let the director of the Alone in the Dark series punch them in the mouth. Violent revenge fantasy fulfillment is the only way he knows how to deal with a problem (unless that problem is BloodRayne, in which case his solution is continuing to make at least a couple more problems).
But while his approach to the topic is expected, the fact that he’s decided to approach it at all is a bit surprising considering Boll’s own, self-admitted guilt at himself gaming the German financial system for his own gain. As I understand it, Boll long worked his country’s tax shelters to continue funding his reviled films risk-free, despite many of them failing to turn a profit. Isn’t this sort of the pot calling the kettle Blackwoods, starring Patrick Muldoon and Clint Howard, dir. Uwe Boll? Still, at least it is not another video game adaptation or tone-deaf Holocaust dramatization, and for that we should be happy. Or go ahead and be pissed about it, and watch Uwe Boll punch you in the mouth.