We are just a few hours away from the start of our annual October Horrorthon but, before we do that, I do have one last bit of business to attend to. Here are my Oscar predictions for the month of September! If you want to see how my thinking has evolved, be sure to check out my predictions for March, April, May, June, July, and August!
As for my latest set of predictions, they’re largely shaped by the news coming out of the festivals. Digger is no longer a contender for anything. And, just as last month, I continue to suspect that Dune Part Three will not be the Oscar powerhouse that some are expecting. The first two Dune films were both nominated but it just doesn’t feel like there’s a huge sentiment out there that’s saying, “We simply have to keep honoring each new installment!”
Here are my latest predictions!
Best Picture
The Debut
Elsinore
Fjord
I Play Rocky
La Bola Negra
Mr. Irrelevant
The Odyssey
Primetime
Project Hail Mary
Wild Horse Nine
Best Director
Javier Ambrossi & Javier Calvo — La Bola Negra
Jesse Eisenberg — The Debut
Phil Lord & Christopher Miller — Project Hail Mary
4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films is just what it says it is, 4 (or more) shots from 4 (or more) of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films lets the visuals do the talking.
Today, TSL celebrates the 121st anniversary of the birth of Michael Powell, the British visionary who changed the face of cinema, both on his own and through his collaboration with Emeric Pressburger. It seems appropriate that we pay tribute to Powell on the day before October, as his 1960 film Peeping Tom is considered by many to be the first slasher film. (It’s not but it’s influence on the genre cannot be overstated.)
In honor of Michael Powell, TSL is proud to present….
4 Shots From 4 Michael Powell Films
I Know Where I’m Going (1945, dir by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, DP: Erwin Hillier)
Black Narcissus (1947, dir by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, DP: Jack Cardiff)
The Red Shoes (1948, dir by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, DP: Jack Cardiff)
Peeping Tom (1960, dir by Michael Powell, DP: Otto Heller)
“This is not my family. You are not my father. And the breath I take after I kill you will be the first breath of my life.” — Raizo
Watching Ninja Assassin feels a little like stumbling onto a late-night cable movie that has been given a much bigger budget, a larger blood supply, and zero interest in restraint. It is a blood-soaked, over-the-top revenge movie about a superhuman killer carving his way through an army of shadowy cult ninjas, and it wants blades, bodies, darkness, shredded limbs, dramatic training flashbacks, and a hero so physically intimidating that the camera occasionally seems to pause just to admire how absurdly ripped he is. It is loud, grimy, excessively violent, and frequently ridiculous. It is also, depending on your tolerance for late-2000s CGI carnage and ultra-serious ninja mythology, a pretty entertaining slice of trashy action cinema.
The film stars Korean pop superstar Rain as Raizo, a prodigiously gifted killer raised by the Ozunu Clan, a secret organization that turns stolen children into elite assassins. Raizo is trained from childhood to erase fear, reject compassion, and become basically invisible in the darkness. The clan’s motto might as well be “trauma builds character,” because every flashback involves some new level of horrifying abuse: children fighting one another, training through severe pain, learning to tolerate wounds, and being punished for even the smallest sign of vulnerability. It is all delivered with the straight-faced intensity of a dark comic book, which is probably the best way to approach the movie as a whole.
The present-day story follows Raizo after he breaks from the Ozunu Clan and goes rogue. His target is Lord Ozunu, played by genuine ninja-film legend Sho Kosugi, who runs the entire organization like a supernatural military cult. Raizo’s path crosses with Mika Coretti, played by Naomie Harris, a Europol researcher in Berlin who discovers evidence that a string of political assassinations may be connected to an apparently mythical network of ninja killers. Naturally, nobody believes her, because this is a movie where the phrase “ninja assassins are real” is treated with the same bureaucratic skepticism as an expense-report discrepancy. Once Mika gets too close to the truth, the Ozunu Clan sends people to remove her from the equation, and Raizo enters the picture as both protector and revenge machine.
The plot is not really the point, but it does enough to move the movie from one stabbing to the next. Ninja Assassin has the basic shape of a revenge story, with Raizo torn between the brutal identity he was given and the humanity he is trying to reclaim. The flashbacks fill in his childhood bond with Kiriko, another member of the clan who pays the price for refusing to fully submit to Lord Ozunu’s cruelty. That loss becomes the emotional engine for Raizo’s rebellion, and while the movie does not exactly dig deep into the character’s psychology, it gives Rain a clear enough motivation to work with. He is not just killing bad guys because the script needs more bodies on the floor. He is trying to destroy the institution that made him into a weapon.
Rain is honestly one of the movie’s biggest strengths. He does not have to carry the film through nuanced dialogue or complicated dramatic scenes, and that is probably for the best, because the screenplay does not give him much room for that kind of performance. But he has undeniable screen presence. He looks the part, moves like someone who trained brutally for it, and sells the physical exhaustion of a man who has spent his whole life getting cut, beaten, stabbed, and forced to keep moving anyway. The movie’s action depends on Raizo feeling almost superhuman without becoming completely weightless, and Rain finds that balance most of the time. He is less a conventional action hero than a human weapon who has finally decided to aim himself at the people who built him.
Sho Kosugi is also a welcome presence as Lord Ozunu. He does not get a huge amount of screen time, but he has the kind of weathered, stern authority that makes the role work. Lord Ozunu is not a layered villain; he is an evil master who talks in cold pronouncements about weakness and loyalty, tortures his students, and commands legions of black-clad killers. Still, Kosugi makes him feel more substantial than the usual disposable martial-arts-movie villain. His involvement also gives Ninja Assassin a connection to the ninja-cinema boom of the 1980s, when Kosugi was one of the genre’s biggest names. The film feels like it is trying to combine that old-school ninja-movie sensibility with the slick, digital, hyperviolent style that came out of the Matrix era.
That connection makes sense given the people behind the movie. McTeigue had previously directed V for Vendetta and worked closely with the Wachowskis, who produced Ninja Assassin alongside Joel Silver. You can feel that late-1990s and 2000s action aesthetic all over it: cold blue lighting, rain-slick streets, rapid editing, wire-assisted movement, slow-motion impacts, and CGI blood that erupts in fountains whenever a blade touches skin. The action is often designed less around realism than around visual impact. A ninja does not just stab somebody; he slices through them with enough force to send gallons of digital blood spraying across the frame. Arms come off. Heads come off. Bodies are carved up so thoroughly that the movie sometimes feels like a slasher picture with martial-arts choreography.
When Ninja Assassin is working, that excess is part of the fun. The early sequence in a Bangkok nightclub is a strong example. Gangsters laugh at the idea that ninjas exist, and then the lights go out. Bodies start falling apart in the darkness while unseen attackers move through the room. It is silly, but it is exactly the kind of silly the movie needs to be. The clan’s assassins are framed less like ordinary people than horror-movie monsters: they emerge from shadows, disappear into smoke, and leave mutilated corpses behind. The best moments make ninja combat feel supernatural and frightening rather than simply athletic.
The problem is that the movie sometimes sabotages its own action with its visual style. It is extremely dark, often to the point that it becomes hard to tell who is hitting whom. The rapid editing can also make fights feel more like a blur of limbs, blades, and blood splatter than a clearly staged exchange. There are sequences where the choreography seems like it could be impressive if the camera would just pull back and let the audience see it. Instead, McTeigue often keeps everything moving so fast that the action loses some of its physical clarity. This is particularly frustrating because the film clearly put real effort into Rain’s training and the stunt work.
The CGI is another mixed bag. At times, the exaggerated gore has a knowingly cartoonish quality that fits the movie’s pulpy tone. At other times, it looks like a video-game cutscene from the late 2000s, especially when blood splashes directly toward the camera. The film wants to be nasty and visceral, but the artificial effects can create distance rather than impact. You are rarely shocked by the violence because it is so obviously constructed as spectacle. Then again, nobody should go into a film called Ninja Assassin expecting the sober realism of The Bourne Identity. This is a movie where shadow ninjas attack police officers with chains, blades, and explosive acrobatics. Subtlety was never invited.
Naomie Harris does what she can with Mika, though the character is written mostly as the audience’s entry point into the ninja conspiracy. She gets some decent moments of determination and disbelief, but the film does not give her nearly as much agency as it should. Once Raizo arrives, Mika increasingly becomes someone who needs to be rescued, protected, and dragged through the story’s bloodier sections. Ben Miles is fine as her superior, Ryan Maslow, but the Europol material is the least exciting part of the film. Whenever it cuts away from Raizo’s training, his revenge, or another batch of black-clad assassins, the energy drops.
Still, there is something oddly admirable about how committed Ninja Assassin is to its own trashy premise. It does not pretend to be a prestige thriller, a grounded espionage drama, or a sophisticated martial-arts epic. It is a hard-R revenge movie built around a simple promise: Rain versus an army of ninjas. On that level, it delivers enough mayhem to satisfy viewers who enjoy excessively violent action movies and do not need the script to be smarter than the title.
Ninja Assassin is not a hidden masterpiece, and it has plenty of flaws: thin characters, clunky dialogue, uneven CGI, murky camerawork, and a plot that exists mainly to connect the fight scenes. But it has a strong lead, a memorable villain, a few genuinely cool action-horror moments, and an unapologetically ridiculous energy. It is best enjoyed as a guilty-pleasure throwback to the era when Hollywood action movies believed every problem could be solved with a black mask, a sword, and several gallons of CGI blood.
4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films is just what it says it is, 4 (or more) shots from 4 (or more) of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films lets the visuals do the talking.
Today, the Shattered Lens wishes a happy 56th birthday to Danish director Nicholas Winding Refn! Drivewas one of the first films to really be celebrated on this site, receiving reviews from several contributors. Personally, I preferred The Neon Demon.
In honor of of the man and his work, it’s time for….
4 Shots from 4 Nicolas Winding Refn Films
Bronson (2008, dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Larry Smith)
Drive (2011, dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Newton Thomas Sigel)
Only God Forgives (2013,dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Larry Smith)
The Neon Demon (2016, dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Natasha Braier)
First released in 2021, Kid 90 is a documentary about what it’s like to be rich, famous, and young. Apparently, it sucks. The time that it sucks the most is when you’re no longer a teenager and you’re looking back on on your past and trying to somehow shape it all into a coherent narrative.
The documentary was produced, directed, and written by Soleil Moon Frye, a former child actress who originally found fame in the early 80s as the star of a sitcom called Punky Brewster. That show was a bit before my time but I do remember seeing her on that episode of Saved By The Bell where she pretended to like Screech for his spaghetti sauce money. She’s also appeared in a few horror films, many of whom have found a second life in the streaming era. The daughter of actor Virgil Frye (he was the creepy in security guard in Herb Freed’s Graduation Day), Soleil apparently started carrying a video camera around at a young age and was constantly filming her friends, who included people like Leonardo DiCaprio, Mark-Paul Gosselaar, Mark Wahlberg, David Arquette, Stephen Dorff, the skaters who appeared in Larry Clark’s Kids, and a host of others. She also saved all of her diaries and her voicemails. Kid 90 was assembled from those artifacts. Soleil tells her story while discussing the pressures of being a young woman in Hollywood and being objectified when she was barely old enough to be considered a teenager. She talks about drugs, sex, her friends who died young, and the unique trauma of growing up while the entire world watches and judges. She talks about a relationship with an older man, who she doesn’t name even while pictures of her with Charlie Sheen appear on the screen. What she doesn’t do is go into too much detail.
Indeed, while watching Kid 90, the main thing that struck me was how guarded everyone seemed to be, even in the candid footage that was shot when they were all teens. Young Soleil asks her friends about their philosophy of life and none of them can come up with anything particularly interesting. Instead, they all sound like their reading from a script that was handed to them by a publicist. The voicemails that we hear are largely generic and uninteresting and, if not for the title card that accompanies each one, we would have no idea who was talking. (There’s only so much meaning that one can wring out of, “Hey, just calling to see if you were around.”) Yes, Leonard DiCaprio appears in a clip or two but DiCaprio also served as a producer on the film so you can be sure that those clips were very carefully selected. In the present, a handful of actors talk about the process of going from being teen actors to adults. Brian Austin Green talks about the first time that he realized that there were people who did not like him. (His shock about the failure of his rap career is actually kind of poignant.) David Arquette is goofy but honest when discussing his history of drug abuse. Stephen Dorff is thoughtful. Mark-Paul Gosselaar is likable but obviously careful about saying anything that could come back to haunt him. (I’ve never seen Gosselaar give a bad interview, largely because he’s a master of revealing just enough without revealing too much.) And then you’ve got poor Soleil, who struggles to assign some sort of bigger meaning to her youthful memories. She obviously doesn’t want to be known as just another spoiled child actress but, when she shares footage of herself hanging out with a bunch of New York skaters, it’s hard not to see her as being anything other than a rich kid slumming.
(Not that’s anything wrong with that! I did plenty of slumming when I was in college.)
In the end, Kid 90 is really about the innate human desire to take all of the random events of our life and shape them into some sort of grand narrative. Unfortunately, life is never really that easy to explain or categorize. No one in the film, Soleil included, really lets their guard down. I can’t say that I blame them.
What’s an Insomnia File? You know how some times you just can’t get any sleep and, at about three in the morning, you’ll find yourself watching whatever you can find on cable or streaming? This feature is all about those insomnia-inspired discoveries!
Are you having trouble getting to sleep tonight? Is your excitement about the upcoming Horrorthon keeping you awake? Well, if that’s case, you can always go over to YouTube and watch the 2023 film, Bring Him To Me.
In Bring Him To Me, Barry Pepper plays the driver. He’s a quiet man, a career criminal who is good at his job but who also doesn’t seem to particularly like it. We don’t really learn much about the Driver, at least not until the very end of the film. But one look at Pepper’s rough-hewn face and his world-weary eyes tells us more about him than any monologue could. He’s someone who has seen things that he would rather forget.
In this film, his job is to transport a talkative and asthmatic man credited as being the Passenger (Jamie Costa). We do eventually learn the Passenger’s name and quite a bit about his family situation. That’s because the Passenger will not stop talking. While the Driver is trying to do his job and transport the Passenger without getting emotionally involved in any of it, the Passenger simply will not stop revealing details about himself.
The film takes place entirely at night. The Driver finds himself being pursued by a number of different people, including a shady pawn shop owner (Sam Neill) who wants vengeance for both a theft and a beating. The film doesn’t always follow a linear timeline so it takes a while before it becomes clear just exactly what’s going on. Fortunately, there’s enough action and moral ambiguity to hold the viewer’s attention. This is the type of film that demands a lead who can keep everything from spinning out of control and Barry Pepper fulfills the role admirably.
I have to admit that, when Bring Him To Me started, I didn’t have much hope for it. The non-linear timeline, the occasional forced quirkiness of the dialogue, and the constant cursing made the film seem like it was just another heist film made by someone who was trying to be the next Tarantino. That said, the film won me over. Barry Pepper won me over. The gorgeous night cinematography won me over. And eventually, even the twisty story won me over. In the end, director Luke Sparke managed to bring all the disparate elements together into an intriguing noir-flavored film.
Bring Him To Me surprised me by actually being a decent movie. That’s one of the fun things about watching a random movie in the middle of the night. You never know what you might discover.
“What is rock and roll?” — Fire Up The Shoeshaw by Lionrick
In 1999’s Go, Sarah Polley plays Ronna, a supermarket cashier who is on the verge of getting kicked out of her apartment because she can’t pay the rent. (As Julianne Moore put it in Boogie Nights, “My landlord is a real jerk.”) When Adam (Scott Wolf) and Zack (Jay Mohr) approach her and ask if she can hook them up with twenty ecstasy pills, Ronna agrees. Her co-worker, Simon (Desmond Askew), is a low-level dealer and he’s gone to Las Vegas for the weekend. Ronna decides to get the pills from Simon’s connection, Todd Gaines (Timothy Olyphant). Because Ronna doesn’t have enough money to pay Todd, she agrees to leave her friend Claire (Katie Holmes) behind as collateral.
Meanwhile, Simon goes to Vegas with Marcus (Taye Diggs), Singh (James Duval), and Tiny (Breckin Meyer). While Singh and Tiny deal with the consequences of eating too much shrimp and Marcus deals with people assuming that he must work at the casino, Simon nearly burns down the hotel and then manages to piss off both a bouncer (Jimmy Shubert) and his father (J.E. Freeman).
Finally, in the film’s third storyline, Adam and Zack are revealed to be two soap opera actors who are secretly dating and who were busted by a bizarre cop named Burke Halverson (William Fichtner). Halverson wants Adam and Zack to help him set up Todd Gaines. However, beyond that, Halverson really wants Adam and Zack to have Christmas dinner with him and his wife (Jane Krakowski). Adam and Zack suspect that Halverson has ulterior motives and he does. However, it turns out that neither one of them could have guessed what Halverson really wants them to do.
Go is one of those films that seems like the greatest thing ever made when you’re a teenager and you’re watching it at your friend’s house with the volume turned down super low so that their parents don’t come in the room and ask why William Fichtner is wandering around naked while talking to Jay Mohr about cologne. Under those circumstances, it makes sense that the employees of a grocery store would all look like models and that they would spend their break playing the dead celebrity game. When you’re the right age, it doesn’t matter that Todd Gaines is a homicidal drug addict. All that matters is that Timothy Olyphant has probably never been sexier than he was in this film.
Once you grow up, it becomes a bit more obvious that Ronna, Simon, and even Adam and Zack are basically complete and total idiots and that they really have no one to blame but themselves for the trouble that they get into. When you’re a teenager and you watch Go, you ask yourself, “How could anyone evict someone during the holidays!?” When you’re an adult and you watch Go, you ask yourself, “Why didn’t you just pay your rent, Ronna?”
That said, I still love Go. Yes, it’s basically a rip-off of Pulp Fiction, but it’s still an energetic, well-acted, and surprisingly funny movie and I love the soundtrack. I love the fact that the film actually earns the right to be called Go by giving us a narrative that never stops to catch its breath. It’s a film about being young and being stupid and it perfectly captures why so many of us have nostalgia for the mistakes we made years ago. Go was Doug Liman’s follow-up to Swingers and feels like the type of film that would have been produced by Trent and Sue. It’s derivative, irresponsible, and oddly charming. It’s a mix of Los Angeles and Vegas that encourages us all to never stop moving.
Miles Carter (Bobby Stevens) is a smooth-talking Vegas drug dealer who owes the Mafia a good deal of money due to some missing cocaine. Knowing that he’s in trouble but still confident that he can outsmart a bunch of goombahs in ill-fitting suits, Miles heads to Albuquerque so he can make another drug deal that will net him enough money to pay off the mob. But Miles isn’t actually planning on paying back the mob. Instead, he’s planning on taking whatever money he makes and then fleeing to Mexico. However, the Mafia has an assortment of overweight hit men with bad haircuts and they’ve all been sent to take down Miles.
That’s the plot of 1974’s The Black Connection. Or, at least, I think that’s the plot. It’s not a particularly easy film to follow. The film starts out with nearly thirty minutes of minor characters talking to each other and making phone calls. Once Miles does finally show up, it’s difficult to really know what he’s trying to pull because 1) the dialogue is so muddled that it’s nearly impossible to make out and 2) Bobby Stevens was not a particularly good or compelling actor. Instead, he was the lead singer for a band called The Checkmates, ltd. His bandmates appear in minor roles and also perform the film’s rather generic score. Bobby Stevens supposedly came up with the story for The Black Connection but it’s interesting to note that, in the opening credits, there’s no “written by” credit. Instead, someone is credited with being a script supervisor. That would perhaps explain why the film doesn’t really seem to be complete story as much as it’s just a bunch of random scenes that have been strung together.
The Black Connection is not a long film but I would still say that it’s probably about 60% filler. This is one of those films where no one does anything without announcing that they’re going to do it and then debating whether or not they should actually do it before doing it. It’s revealed that phones make Miles paranoid and yet the entire film is full of people talking and talking and talking on the phone. I lost track of how many shots there were of people dialing a landline and then waiting for someone to answer. There were also multiple shots of people in phone booths. At times, the film felt as if it should have been put in a time capsule so that, decades later, people could experience what it was like to live in the days before the invention of the iPhone.
There are a few scenes that work or, at the very least, are watchable. A scene in which a fat mobster shows off his karate skills is interesting because …. well, he’s a fat mobster. A scene in which two other mobsters grin while firing their guns into a car is notably gruesome and made all the more disturbing by the joy that the mobsters take in their work. Finally, the film ends on a downbeat note that would probably be more effective if not for the buckets of fake blood that were apparently splattered around right before the director shouted, “Action!”
This film was produced by the infamous Harry H. Novak. It’s nowhere near as sleazy as some of Novak’s other films. That’s actually kind of a shame. Sometimes, sleaze is the only thing that can save a film this inept.
1996‘s Swingers is a very quotable movie. “You’re so money and you don’t even know it,” is one of the more famous lines. Whenever I watch the movie, I always laugh when Mike (Jon Favreau) reacts to Sue (Patrick Von Horn) pulling a gun during an argument in a parking lot by saying, “Haven’t you seen Boyz N Da Hood? Now, one of us is going to get shot!” But for me, my favorite line will always be Trent yelling “Vegas, baby, Vegas!” as he drives Mike to Nevada’s best-known city.
There’s a sincerity to the way Trent yells it, one that you might miss on your first viewing. Trent is the aspiring actor who is confident and who always seems to know the right thing to say and who manages to keep his cool no matter how potentially embarrassing the situation. He’s a bit immature and a little bit loud but he’s the type of friend that every group needs. Mike is a comedian who moved from New York to Los Angeles. He hosts a night at a comedy club. He also asks for an application when he goes to Starbucks. He’s just been dumped by his girlfriend and he’s struggling to get over her. He’s still in that stage where all he can talk about is his former relationship. He’s the sweet guy who makes you go “Awww!” and little else.
Trent is convinced that a trip to Vegas is what Mike needs. Mike is trying convince himself that Trent is right. It’s a long and a hot drive. When Trent suddenly yells, “Vegas, baby, Vegas!,” it’s not just his way of keeping Mike awake. It’s his way of promising Mike that things are going to get better. To Trent, Vegas is the solution to all of Mike’s L.A. woes. Once they arrive in Vegas, Trent neve stops believing. It doesn’t matter that he and Mike get exiled from the high rollers table at a casino and end up gambling with a bunch of elderly tourists. It doesn’t matter that the waitress (Deena Martin) that Trent picks up lives in a rundown mobile home. And, in the end, it even doesn’t matter that Mike ends up spending the entire night telling the waitress’s roommate about his ex-girlfriend. What matters is that Trent believes that he has the solutions to everyone’s problems. For Mike, that solution is Vegas. For Sue, it’s playing hockey. Everyone has their own personal Vegas.
Swingers is a classic example of American independent film. Jon Favreau wrote the script and based it on his own experiences as a struggling actor. The cast was largely made up by Favreau’s friends. Vince Vaughn has said that Trent was largely based on himself, which is why he asked that there be at least one scene that revealed that Trent really did care about his friends. The story is deliberately loose. Mike tries to get over his ex-girlfriend while receiving largely useless advice from his friends. Rob (Ron Livington) moves to Los Angeles and provides somewhat gentler advice than Trent. Sue pulls a gun on some wannabe white gangstas and talks about how he grew up on the tough streets of Los Angeles. (He actually grew up in Anaheim.) The effortlessly cool Charles (Alex Desert) declares every party that the group goes to to be “dead.” As a group they spend a lot of time talking about movies. They complain about Tarantino stealing from other directors before an extended sequence of them walking in slow motion down a Los Angeles street while the Average White Band plays on the soundtrack.
The heart of Swingers together is the very real friendship between the characters. with Trent holding it all together. Mike and Sue tolerate each other because they both want to hang out with Trent. Even the momentary crisis caused by Sue pulling his gun on the guys in the parking lot is solved by the fact that the guys all want to hang out with Trent as well. Problems in Swingers are not solved by guns or high-speed chases. They’re solved by video games, beer, dancing, and maybe a trip to Vegas. They’re solved by doing your own thing and not worrying about “the rules.” They’re solved by just being in the right place at the right time. They’re solved by Mike dancing with Heather Graham and then hanging up on his ex right when she’s saying, “I love–”
Today, of course, Swingers is very much a period piece. It’s a film from a time when you actually had to get in a car and drive to Vegas if you wanted to gamble. It’s a film from a period where Mike has to ask permission to use someone else’s phone to call his ex and when there was a grace period between leaving a bad message on a machine and having to worry about anyone having heard it. For me, it’s always interesting to see Vince Vaughn, Jon Favreau, and Ron Livingston back when they were all still so young and, in the case of Vaughn and Favreau, thin. It’s a film that celebrate friendship, love, and being young enough to still feel like anything can happen.
It’s a film that celebrates everyone’s personal Las Vegas.