Bovie Movie

T. E. Lawrence is a young maladjusted lieutenant in the British Army in North Africa during World War One. Unhappy with his current assignment coloring maps, he is ecstatic when he is offered a job as an observer in what is now Arabia. At this point, the story of his life becomes the stuff that legends are made of.

It’s 1950’s New York and the age of live television. Benjy Stone is a young writer on a major comedy-variety show. He is assigned to chaperon that week’s guest Alan Swann, a faded movie-star and renowned womanizer and drinker. Benjy’s job is to try and keep Swann sober and above all else, make sure he shows up for the live broadcast on Saturday evening. Benjy and Swann have a number of adventures throughout the week, including dinner with Benjy’s somewhat eccentric family. In the end, both learn lessons in life from the other.

The Last Emperor is the true story of Aisin-Gioro Pu Yi, the last ruler of the Chinese Ching Dynasty. Told in flashback, the film covers the years 1908 to 1967. We first see the three-year-old Pu Yi being installed in the Forbidden City by ruthless, dying dowager Empress Tzu-Hsui (Lisa Lu). Though he’d prefer to lark about like other boys, the infant emperor is cossetted and cajoled into accepting the responsibilities and privileges of his office. In 1912, the young emperor (Tijer Tsou) forced to abdicate when China is declared a republic, is a prisoner in his own palace, “protected” from the outside world. Fascinated by the worldliness of his Scottish tutor (Peter O’Toole), Pu Yi plots an escape from his cocoon by means of marriage. He selects Manchu descendant Wan Jung (Joan Chen), who likewise is anxious to experience the 20th century rather than be locked into the past by tradition. Played as an adult by John Lone, Pu Yi puts into effect several social reforms, and also clears the palace of the corrupt eunuchs who’ve been shielding him from life. In 1924, an invading warlord expels the denizens of the Forbidden City, allowing Pu Yi to “westernize” himself by embracing popular music and the latest dances as a guest of the Japanese Concession in Tientsin. Six years later, his power all but gone, Pu Yi escapes to Manchuria, where he unwittingly becomes a political pawn for the now-militant Japanese government. Humiliating his faithful wife, Pu Yi falls into bad romantic company, carrying on affairs with a variety of parasitic females. During World War II, the Japanese force Pu Yi to sign a series of documents which endorse their despotic military activities. At war’s end, the emperor is taken prisoner by the Russians; while incarcerated, he is forced to fend for himself without servants at his beck and call for the first time. He is finally released in 1959 and displayed publicly as proof of the efficacy of Communist re-education. We last see him in 1967, the year of his death; now employed by the State as a gardener, Pu Yi makes one last visit to the Forbidden City…as a tourist. Bernardo Bertolucci’s first film after a six-year self-imposed exile, The Last Emperor was released in two separate versions: the 160-minute theatrical release, and a 4-hour TV miniseries. Lensed on location, the film won nine Academy Awards, including Best Picture and Best Director.

This lavish big-budget epic was the pinnacle of a uniquely Italian subgenre, the historical hardcore gore/porn extravaganza. The star-studded cast, perhaps lured by the high-profile involvement of producer Bob Guccione and screenwriter Gore Vidal, includes such luminaries as John Gielgud, Peter O’Toole, and Helen Mirren. Director Tinto Brass, whose similar treatment of Nazi Germany in Salon Kitty won him the job, did his best with the mammoth enterprise, but numerous production problems and re-edits took their toll on the finished product. When Caligula works best, it works because of Malcolm McDowell, whose crazed portrayal of the title Emperor is the embodiment of villainous corruption. McDowell raises his performance level to match the gaudy spectacle around him, which led to charges of overacting, but there are moments when he is absolutely riveting. Some of the cast doesn’t fare as well, as O’Toole makes a particularly unsubtle Tiberius. The sex is graphic and steamy, particularly a feverish lesbian interlude between Penthouse Pets Lori Wagner and Marjorie Thorsen (using the pseudonym “Anneka di Lorenzo”), and the various carnival freaks used as atmosphere imbue the film with a grotesque, Fellini-like opulence. There are many memorable scenes and a magnificent score by Paul Clemente, but the heady brew of historical epic, hardcore sex, and gory violence proved overwhelming to many viewers. Still, Gore Vidal’s script is surprisingly accurate, and manages to be entertainingly vulgar while bringing a rather loathsome slice of human history to vivid life, warts and all. The more explicit scenes were directed by Bob Guccione and Giancarlo Lui, causing both Vidal and Brass to remove their names from the credits.

A scrawny rat named Remy (voice of Patton Oswalt) finds his dreams of culinary superstardom stirring up sizable controversy in the kitchen of a fine French restaurant in director Brad Bird’s madcap computer-animated comedy. It’s hard being a rat with culinary aspirations, but Remy is convinced he has what it takes to break the stereotypes and follow in the footsteps of star chef Auguste Gusteau (voice of Brad Garrett). As fate would have it, Remy is currently situated in the sewers directly beneath Gusteau’s elegant restaurant. Soon Remy teams up with a young chef with little talent named Linguini (voice of Lou Romano). Together they are able to create some fabulous dishes, but they live in fear that someone will discover their secret and object strenuously to a rat being in a kitchen. When Remy’s passion for cooking turns the haughty world of French cuisine upside down, the rat who would be king of the kitchen learns important lessons about life, friends, and family while questioning whether he should pursue his culinary calling or simply go back underground and return to his life as a sewer rat.

Sometimes a family title, among the nobility of England, goes to the “collateral” heirs — people not in the direct line of decent, like cousins, great-nephews and the like. On rare occasions, these people are not even aware that they are about to be elevated to the House of Lords, and they have been living more-or-less ordinary lives. In this comedy, the family which lacks direct heirs is the Royal Family of England — as all of the likely heirs have died one after the other in swift succession. In this comedy, the “collateral heir” is an exuberant, fence-busting All-American slob (and pretty good rock n’ roll musician) by the name of Ralph (John Goodman). Unknown to him, his grandmother had an affair with a royal prince. Ralph’s a good guy, and eager to please. He recognizes the importance of the royal hoopla to England and works very hard to fit in as its new designated king. He is assisted by the ever-unctuous, very serious family factotum Willingham (Peter O’Toole). The trouble is, he doesn’t have instincts for politics English-style, and he is constantly “putting a foot wrong,” as they might say. The most difficult situation for him is when he develops a new love interest, and she’s not “acceptable” to the upper crust. In addition to being hounded by the tabloids, he finds that “the good of the state” requires that he drop his new girlfriend. Things really come to a head just before Ralph’s coronation as king. Reviewers generally loathed this feel-good comedy, but audiences seem to have enjoyed it tremendously, and it has done well in video and TV airings.