When the movie soundtrack record first came about in the 1950s, its function was to advertise the movie with popular music. Today, the relationship between music and film has flip-flopped: The majority of music used in film is obscure with soundtracks featuring unknown or underground artists.
There'd be a cold wind blowing over hell the day that Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson was made patron saint of street life and ghettos.
A movie with a title like Derailed is just asking for a negative review. It's almost a shame that a title tailor-made for bad punning is wasted on a movie that is so masterfully executed, so arresting and so deeply terrifying. Clive Owen plays Charlie Schine, a Chicago ad man with a beautiful wife, an elegant home in the suburbs and six figures in the bank -- all of it put away for his young daughter, a severe diabetic awaiting an expensive transplant operation.
People are always saying that rock stars are just like the rest of us. While this week's featured band, Rickshaw, can't honestly be described as rock stars, they sure are normal guys. I mean that in a nice way -- during the interview there was smoking, farting and catcalls at friends walking by.
With flu season in full swing, U.Va. students are looking for just about anything to cure their nausea, extinguish their burning fevers and get the vomit flavor out of their mouths.
Everyone has that aunt who tells it like it is, no matter what anyone else thinks. She's politically incorrect, incredibly old-fashioned and by no means afraid to speak her mind.
Canada is the birthplace of great musical artists like Joni Mitchell, Alanis Morrisette and Corey Hart (famous for the 80s classic "Sunglasses at Night"). Canada also is home to an emerging indie scene.
When McCarthyism was a social cancer afflicting America, the country was in short supply of qualified individuals willing to operate on it.
Sitting down in my front-and-center seat at Culbreth to see For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/ When the Rainbow is Enuf, I didn't know what to expect.
How do you turn the folk tale "Chicken Little" into a feature-length film? You know -- acorn falls on chicken's head, chicken creates havoc by shrieking, "The sky is falling!
Though the football team is far from being the best in the country, you can still see a fantastic performance from a group of proven national champions this Saturday night.
You can tell a great deal about a play before the actors even appear on stage. If there are props outside of the curtain when the house lights are not yet dimmed, one can gauge how those one or two objects fit into the play's whole.
Devoting more time to her music than her artwork, young singer-songwriter Vashti Bunyan was expelled from art school in 1964.
Deny man food and he will find his own. Deny him water and he will seek it. Deny him religion and he'll discover salvation in his mother's basement. Deny him many things and he will thrive, but deny him purpose and he will drown.
Yesterday I was having a heated discussion with my illustrious editor, also known as Captain McEvoy, and suddenly I realized some things.
The University Drama Department's presentation of Cloud 9 by Caryl Churchill is a bizarre production that tells the story of a family's sexual self-realization, first in repression in Victorian-era Africa, and then in the liberated climate of late 1970s London.
It has been almost 10 years since a boy and his tiger friend went sledding on a snowy winter morning and at the same time left the comic pages, devastating fans all across the United States.
Zadie Smith's On Beauty clearly owes much to E.M. Forster's novel, Howard's End. The similarities are obvious from the opening line -- a veritable mime of Forster's opening, despite the replacement of "letters" with the more contemporary "e-mails." One wonders whether originality is being strangled amid all this straight-laced literary homage, but the surprising result is that Smith's third work is, despite its faults, a wholly engrossing comic novel. To compress On Beauty into a neat little nutshell is impossible.
If you've ever created anything -- a painting, a piece of music, a short story, heck, even a popsicle stick cabin complete with a marshmallow family -- you've got an idea about the artistic process.
If all films were music, then DOOM is percussion by petulant eight-year-olds. Here is a film that is almost all cliché, held together like patchworks of mismatched jigsaw puzzles.
