To find films, actors, directors, etc., use 'Search This Blog' omitting accents (à ç é ô ü). Ratings average IMDb, MetaCritic and RottenTomatoes: ***** Excellent (81+); **** Very Good (61-80); *** Average (40-60); ** Fair (20-39); * Poor (19-). FEEDBACK: MauiPeterB at Hotmail dot com
An uncredited review published in Time magazine, June 9, 1967
Barefoot in the Park is one of the few plays to be reincarnated on-screen while playing on the Broadway stage. Happily, it loses little in transition.
Essentially, author Neil Simon has taken a plot as bland as a potato, sliced it into thin bits—and made it as hard to resist as potato chips. Two spoiled young honeymooners (Robert Redford and Jane Fonda) settle into a six-flight walk-up apartment in Greenwich Village. In Ogden Nash's phrase, a little incompatibility is the spice of life, particularly if he has income and she is pattable. And so it proves in Barefoot. The puny pad she has chosen has no heat, no bathtub, and a hole in the skylight.
When Redford remonstrates, Fonda starts sniping - only to agree to a cease-fire when her middle-class mother (Mildred Natwick) arrives. Before long, they are joined by a randy reprobate of a neighbor (Charles Boyer) known as the Bluebeard of Tenth Street. Bluebeard leads the way to an Albanian hash house that serves such delicacies as black salad and ouzo. The foursome eventually wend their way home, whereupon Fonda and Redford drunkenly declare all-out war.
She is a nut, he declares, whose idea of fun is walking barefoot in the park in 17-degree weather. Your laundry arrived, she simpers. They stuffed your shirts beautifully. But if the couple's happiness seems as short as their tempers, their misery is just as temporary. By the final reel they are neck and neck in a race for the bed, and even Natwick and Boyer have found something in common - stomach trouble.
The film is not an original-cast production. Sly substitutions have been
made, notably Fonda for Broadway's Elizabeth Ashley. Jane's performance
is the best of her career: a clever caricature of a sex kitten who can
purr or scratch with equal intensity. Among the tastiest leftovers from
the stage are Redford as the harassed husband and Mildred Natwick,
skittering on the edge of hysteria as she articulates the film's
philosophy to her daughter: Make him feel important. If you do that,
you'll have a happy and wonderful marriage, like two out of every ten
couples.
Labels: comedy, Robert Redford, romance
IMDb 70/100
MetaCritic (critics=55, viewers=68)
RottenTomatoes (critics=81, viewers=79)
Blu-ray
Blogger's comments: Barefoot in the Park is notable for another reason. When Redford asks something like: We're going to be doing this for the next fifty years? and Fonda replies: We're only going to be married for fifty years? it reminded me that exactly half a century later they would star together in Our Souls at Night (2017)
and she would say in an interview that she had fallen in love with him
so deeply that she would look into his eyes and forget her lines. And I
can see that passion in the intensity of her performance.
And
there's something else that most viewers will not see. The opening
scene of the film is at the Plaza Hotel in New York City, where they get
out of their horse-drawn carriage and enter the hotel to begin their
week-long honeymoon. The same Plaza Hotel setting is used six years
later in the final scene of the Redford - Streisand film The Way We Were (1973).
Arriving at the Plaza Hotel, Barefoot in the Park
A film review by Kate Erbland for IndieWire on May 7, 2026.
There is much to admire about Olivia Newman’s Where the Crawdads Sing follow-up Remarkably Bright Creatures, another film adaptation of a beloved (and bestselling) novel. There’s Sally Field, in a role that has already earned her awards accolades,
and a massive octopus voiced by Alfred Molina. There’s a crowd of
chatty best pals that include Joan Chen, Kathy Baker, and Beth Grant.
There are actual locations (a sea that is a sea! what an idea!). There’s Lewis Pullman, continuing to work his own dad’s (Bill Pullman's) charming everyman appeal.
And there’s something increasingly rare (yes, even more rare than Alfred
Molina voicing a huge sea creature): a book-to-film adaptation that
actually adapts the material, and does not just crib blindly
from the original. Fans of Van Pelt’s novel might balk at what Newman
and co-writer John Whittington have snipped from her story (huge
apologies to Pullman’s character’s early backstory and his beloved aunt,
similar regrets to Field’s character’s brother), but the trims that run
throughout the film are smart and useful. They serve the story, yes,
but also its new shape as a film.
And, as a film, this tear-jerking story about giant sea creatures, broken
people, and huge secrets works well enough. Much like Van Pelt’s novel,
it’s a cozy little drama with twists and turns that feel both
inevitable and delightful. It’s all bolstered by Field and Pullman’s
performances, which crackle with chemistry and good choices,
nothing big or showy here. If you’re looking for a pick for the entire
family, this is a solid one, and that’s no small feat in the crammed
streaming world, where it can too often feel as if there’s plenty of content but nothing that feels actually made for people.
Or octopuses! At the center of the story is Molina’s tentacled avatar, Marcellus, a giant Pacific octopus who has lived most of his life at the cozy and clean Sowell Bay Aquarium, located near Puget Sound. Many of the details of Marcellus’ life — like how he came to be rescued — will be revealed later, but his primary characteristic is on full display from the start. Marcellus is really, really smart, which Molina imparts via a wry and world-weary voice-over. In Van Pelt’s book, Marcellus gets his own chapters to share his story and observations, and transferring these bits into a consistent voice-over narration is yet another example of this smart scripting.
Marcellus is, in fact, smart enough that he’s figured out how to get out of his tank, explore (read: eat some of his fellow aquarium residents), and get back in without anyone noticing. But Marcellus is growing older, so his assignations are getting slower, and the consequences of his ramblings are getting worse. Thankfully, he has at least one other creature he can trust: Field’s Tova, the aquarium’s dedicated overnight cleaner, who shares a dream of the sea that even Marcellus can deduce.
Or, as he tell us: they both dream of the bottom of the sea and what we lost there. For Marcellus, it was his freedom. For Tova, it was her beloved only son, Erik.
That Marcellus knows that, that Tova has told him about it, is the crux of the story. If you can not only buy that, but delight in it, Remarkably Bright Creatures is very much for you. (It was very much for me.)
Tova’s existence is about to be upended by the arrival of another
flighty young man. Cameron Cassmore (Pullman) lands in Sowell Bay,
convinced his unknown father not only lives there, but is wildly rich
and perhaps interested in meeting the kid he never knew he had. Finding
him, however, is proving tricky, and the perpetually down-on-his-luck
Cameron sure needs a job in the interim. Thank God that most people in
Sowell Bay, like local grocery story owner Ethan (Colm Meaney) are so
happy to welcome outsiders. Thank God also that Tova just sustained a
minor injury (she slipped while helping Marcellus, but no one can know
that) and her gig at the aquarium needs a temp fill-in. Thank God he’s
about to meet Marcellus.

Oh, and he’s still about to meet Tova.
Despite this rambling semi-introduction, Newman’s film makes quick work
of all of this, recognizing that getting to the Tova-and-Cameron show
(with, of course, many guest appearances by Marcellus) is the entire
point of the picture. As Cameron adjusts to life in Sowell Bay (more
bonding with Ethan, who is a little hung up on Tova, plus his own
potential romance with Avery, played by a peppy Sofia Black-D’Elia),
Tova starts to inch her way out of it.
The pains and pleasures of family life are top of mind for her.
Widowed, heartbroken, and left rattling around the house her own father
built (the film has a real sense of place, both out in the town and
inside the aquarium and Tova’s home), Tova is preparing to decamp for a retirement home across the bay. Everyone — including smitten Ethan
and her rowdy pack of pals — think this is a bad idea. What, however,
will become most important is what Cameron thinks, and what part he
comes to play in Tova’s life.
The film does occasionally lean on flashbacks of Tova and her long-gone son Erik to fill in some blanks — and lay out some real winking table-setting — but Remarkably Bright Creatures fares better when Tova or Cameron are telling their woes to Marcellus or even each other. Zippy, smart editing moves us through the story, drawing connections where necessary, bolstered by that old octopus voice-over, and gently guiding us to some major plot points.
Never fear, book lovers, the film sticks firmly to its late act
upheavals and revelations, and even manages to make them feel richer and
more earned here. Maybe it’s something about seeing Sally
Field bond with an octopus, or watching a true inter-generational
friendship blossom on screen, or maybe it’s just something more obvious:
taking the best parts of a sweet story, and paring it down to its best
bits. Or, well, best arms? Tentacles? Whatever can reach out and touch
you, just as this film will. (Erbland's rating: B)
Labels: drama
IMDb 79/100
MetaCritic (critics=56, viewers=45)
RottenTomatoes (critics=79, viewers=91)
Netflix


A Complete Unknown follows Dylan through a roughly four-year period, beginning in 1961 with a visit to the Greystone Park Psychiatric Hospital to meet his idol, Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), and ending in 1965 following his controversial performance at the Newport Folk Festival, where his decision to perform using electric instruments is met with boos and jeers. In between, he has off-again/on-again relationships with two women, Sylvie Russon (Elle Fanning, based on real-life paramour Suze Rotolo, whose real name wasn’t used at Dylan’s request) and singer Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), and approaches fame and fans with an inscrutable façade. He befriends Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), who gives him some of his early breaks, and Johnny Cash (Boyd Holbrook). And he allows his career to be guided by his pushy manager, Albert Grossman (Dan Fogler).

A film review by Roger Ebert for Chicago Sun-Times on Dec 22, 1969.
Some of the best moments in Downhill Racer are moments during which nothing special seems to be happening. They’re moments devoted to capturing the angle of a glance, the curve of a smile, an embarrassed silence. Together they form a portrait of a man that is so complete, and so tragic, that Downhill Racer becomes the best movie ever made about sports — without really being about sports at all.
The champions in any field have got to be, to some degree, fanatics. To be the world’s best skier, or swimmer, or chess player, you’ve got to overdevelop that area of your ability while ignoring almost everything else. This is the point we miss when we persist in describing champions as regular, all-round Joes. If they were, they wouldn’t be champions.
This is the kind of man that Downhill Racer is about: David Chappellet, a member of the U.S. skiing team, who fully experiences his humanity only in the exhilaration of winning. The rest of the time, he’s a strangely cut-off person, incapable of feeling anything very deeply, incapable of communicating with anyone, incapable of love, incapable (even) of being very interesting.
Robert Redford plays this person very well, even though it must have been difficult for Redford to contain his own personality within such a limited character. He plays a man who does nothing well except ski downhill — and does that better than anyone.
But this isn’t one of those rags-to-riches collections of sports clichés, about the kid who fights his way up to champion. It’s closer in tone to the stories of the real champions of our time: Sandy Koufax, Muhammad Ali, Joe Namath, who were the best and knew they were the best and made no effort to mask their arrogance. There is no humility at all in the racer’s character: Not that there should be. At one point, he’s accused by a fellow American of not being a good team man. Another skier replies: Well, this isn’t exactly a team sport.
It isn’t; downhill racing is an intensely individual sport, and we feel that through some remarkable color photography. More often than not, races are shot from the racer’s point of view, and there are long takes that nearly produce vertigo as we hurtle down a mountain. Without bothering to explain much of the technical aspect of skiing, Downhill Racer tells us more about the sport than we imagined a movie could.
The joy of these action sequences is counterpointed by the daily life of the ski amateur. There are the anonymous hotel rooms, one after another, and the deadening continual contact with the team members, and the efforts of the coach (Gene Hackman in a superb performance) to hold the team together and placate its financial backers in New York.
And there is Chappellet’s casual affair with Carole Stahl (Camilla Sparv), who seems to be a sort of ski groupie. She wants to make love to him, and does, but he is so limited, so incapable of understanding her or anything beyond his own image, that she drops him. He never does quite understand why.
The movie balances nicely between this level, and the exuberance of its outdoor location photography. And it does a skillful job of involving us in the competition without really being a movie about competition. In the end, Downhill Racer succeeds so well that instead of wondering whether the hero will win the Olympic race, we want to see what will happen to him if he does. [Ebert's rating:4 stars out of 4]
Blogger's note: When you watch the film you will notice that in German ski racing, in the starting countdown (... three, two, one) the term zwo is used, instead of zwei, for the number two, as in drei, zwo, eins. This is a specific safety measure, designed to insure that zwei (two) is not misheard as drei (three).
Labels: drama, Robert Redford, romance, sport
IMDb 63/100
Metacritic (critics=89, viewers=74)
RottenTomatoes (critics=85, viewers=57)
Blu-ray
Roger Ebert's original review



A film review by Dr. Svet Atanasov for Blu-ray.com on Feb. 16, 2022.
Robert Aldrich's The Flight of the Phoenix arrives on Blu-ray courtesy of Criterion. The supplemental features on the disc include exclusive new program with filmmaker Walter Hill and film scholar Alain Silver; exclusive new program with biographer Donald Dewey on actor James Stewart; and vintage trailer. In English, with optional English SDH subtitles for the main feature.
A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net
For me, there's a litmus test for remakes: are they sufficiently different and/or interesting in their own right that their existence is easily defended? Admittedly, it's a lot easier to argue the case for a new version of Alfie (to today's audiences, the 1966 original could be considered obscure) than Psycho, but somehow the film doesn't work as well as it should. The problem is one of context. Although director/screenwriter Charles Shyer changes the setting from '60s London to '00s New York, he otherwise stays relatively faithful to the approach (if not the specific text) of Lewis Gilbert's version. The first Alfie occurred during the birth pains of the sexual revolution, when one-night stands were the expected norm for virile young men. Applying that mindset to the AIDS era, when one-night stands can become games of Russian roulette, doesn't work. Cosmetic updates to the title character can't change the fact that Alfie is a relic lifted from one era and dropped into another one.
Having said that, however, it is necessary to point out that Jude Law does a solid job, although he's essaying a person who generates limited audience sympathy. Law does not attempt to ape Michael Caine, but makes the character his own. (Along with The Ipcress File, Alfie is the film that cemented Caine's reputation. It's odd that he doesn't have a cameo in this remake - maybe he learned a lesson from Get Carter.) Like Caine, Law seems comfortable breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience directly. When Gilbert used the device some 40 years ago, it was fresh, but, by 2004, it is clichéd. Not to mention that it emphasizes Alfie's smugness and narcissism, making him less likable.
Shyer has never found a remake he didn't like. His recent resume is dotted with re-dos. He was involved in new versions of Father of the Bride, Father's Little Dividend (called Father of the Bride Part II so as to not confuse audiences), Once Upon a Crime..., and The Parent Trap. None of these films showed remarkable qualities, so anyone with a degree of familiarity with Shyer's career should have known about what to expect from Alfie. The original Alfie came out at precisely the right time. The remake is 40 years too late.
The storyline is one of simple karma. Throughout the first half of the film, Alfie plays the perfect womanizer, a fashion whore who goes after every pretty FBB (face, boobs, bum) he sees, without concern for the consequences. These include Dorie (Jane Krakowski), a lonely wife whose husband hasn't touched her in five months; Lonette (Nia Long), his best friend's girl; Julie (Marisa Tomei), his quasi-girlfriend who has a son Alfie adores; Nikki (Sienna Miller), who makes a convenient companion on the second loneliest night of the year (Christmas Eve); and Liz (Susan Sarandon), a confident older woman who knows what she likes. Shortly after the midpoint, the tables are turned, and Alfie discovers some hard truths about how he has been treating the opposite sex. By the end of the movie, he hasn't found happiness, but he has discovered humility. During the closing scenes, one can imagine that Charles Chaplin's Smile was written for this character (Smile, though your heart is breaking…).
Aside from Law, there aren't any standout performances. None of the women have large roles, and even the best of them (Sarandon, Miller) struggle to escape the stereotype confines in which the script pigeonholes them. As Marlon, Alfie's best/only friend, Omar Epps doesn't fare any better. Epps has one memorable moment, and it's more his facial expression than his words that make it work. Tomei is surprisingly subdued, and wears a hairdo that one could argue is paying homage to the era in which the original Alfie debuted.
Having expressed some negative thoughts about the film, however, I have to admit that Alfie grew on me. Once we get past all the smart-aleck asides offered up by the title character, and begin to get to know the real Alfie, the movie becomes more engaging. Certain individual scenes are surprisingly effective, such as Alfie's bathroom chat with an older gentlemen (who advises: Find someone to love and live every day as if it was your last), his farewell to Nikki, and the result when he finally brings flowers to a woman. Alfie shouldn't have a happy ending, and it doesn't. Thankfully, Shyer doesn't force something into the film that wouldn't fit.
Alfie has the requisite moments of pathos and humor that allow the movie to be enjoyed on some level, even if the main character occasionally feels like a walking, talking anachronism. Those who demand a sympathetic character to appreciate a film may not have a favorable feeling. I'm more open to ambiguous protagonists and anti-heroes, so this aspect didn't bother me. Still, this is a mixed bag - passable entertainment made palatable largely by Law, but the question of Why? more than What's it all about? still lingers where this remake is concerned. [Berardinelli's rating: 2.5 out of 4 stars = 62%]
Blogger's observation: Alfie's self-assessment in the final scene goes like this:
I used to think I had the best end of the deal. What have I got? Really? Some money in my pocket. Some nice threads. Fancy car at my disposal. And I'm single. Yeah. Unattached. Free as a bird. I don't depend on nobody. Nobody depends on me. My life's my own. But I don't have peace of mind. And if you don't have that, you've got nothing.
Labels: comedy, drama, romance
IMDb 62/100
MetaCritic (critics=49, viewers=59)
RottenTomatoes (critics=48, viewers=51)
DVD
A film review by Brian Orndorf for Blu-ray.com on May 5, 2023.
Mira (Priyanka Chopra Jonas) is a children’s book author struggling to come up with an idea for her latest project, still lost in the grieving process two years after the death of her boyfriend, John (Arinze Kene). She lives with her sister, Suzy (Sofia Barclay), still reminded of the man she loved, trying to work through her thoughts by texting his number, sharing her feelings with the void. Rob (Sam Heughan) is a newspaper music critic struggling to get over being dumped by his longtime girlfriend, fighting to focus on an assignment to interview Celine Dion. He receives a new phone from his boss, with the number transferred from John’s old account, allowing Rob to receive Mira’s intimate messages of sadness. Rob eventually meets Mira at the opera, sparking an immediate attraction to the woman, and their dates turn into a relationship, though the writer can’t bear to tell his love about the messages, complicating their union.
Mira purges her feelings into texts for John’s number, confessing her fears and sadness, unaware that these messages are being received by Rob, who’s also managing heartbreak, but more pressing professional matters are found with his mission to chat with Dion, who appears in the film as a Yoda-type figure wise in the ways of love and loss. Love Again settles into sitcom-y territory with the mix-up, but Strouse fights plasticized plotting as much as possible, giving the feature over to the leads, who manage to create semi-real people in the face of ridiculousness. There’s some degree of warmth in Love Again, but it’s challenged by formula, with Rob assigned two pals at work to act as his guide into technology and human contact, giving the picture a few stabs at humor it doesn’t really need.
Rob can’t believe what’s happening with Mira, with the pair growing closer, sharing protected parts of their lives and bits of basketball-themed philosophy. He’s in possession of knowledge that will surely destroy his new relationship, and Love Again lines up with the usual in nonsense communication issues, but Strouse handles it all to the best of his ability. He has to make something accessible and familiar for fans of the subgenre, which isn’t welcome, but Love Again carries initial care for profound situations of pain, finding ways to address the reality of the mourning process without completely losing itself to cliché. [Orndorf's rating: 3 stars out of 5]
Labels: comedy, drama, romance
IMDb 5.9/10
MetaCritic (critics=32, viewers=53)
RottenTomatoes (critics=30, viewers=91)
Blu-ray
Brian Orndorf's original review
Blu-ray review by Kenneth Brown (3/5 stars)
A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.com
Searching for Bobby Fischer is based on the true life story of Josh Waitzkin who, at the age of sixteen, is currently (1993) the highest-ranked American player under eighteen. It isn't just Josh's tale, however. The name and image of the mysterious chess genius Bobby Fischer infiltrate this movie. Fischer is as much an icon to this game as Babe Ruth is to baseball.
How important are games to the American way of life? Have they become so crucial that we lose sight of the people playing them? And at what point does the need to win become so important that the game ceases to be fun? These are some of the questions that Searching for Bobby Fischer probes. It certainly can't answer them, but the film offers fodder for thought as it explores Josh's early career and examines the relationship between the young chess master and his sports writer father, Fred Waitzkin (Joe Mantegna).
Josh starts playing chess because it fascinates him. As soon as Fred recognizes his son's gift, however, he begins to apply subtle pressure. Winning becomes important -- perhaps too important -- and Josh is afraid that to fail at the game is to risk losing his father's love. It's then that chess becomes a burden and he stops enjoying it.
Josh has two mentors -- the street-smart Vinnie, who teaches him to play the opponent, not the board; and Bruce Pandolfini, a man who has suffered an unspecified loss in an unnamed competition, but knows the game inside out. Each has a different perspective to offer, and Josh learns from them both. One lesson, however, he is unable to take to heart -- he cannot hate his opponents, no matter how much they despise him. We never learn exactly what demons haunt Pandolfini, and it's a credit to this film that it doesn't make them explicit. There are enough clues that they can be guessed at, and Searching for Bobby Fischer relies upon the intelligence of its audience to put the pieces together.
The two key relationships explored by this film are those of Josh and his father and Josh and his teacher. While Fred never stops loving his son, he becomes obsessed by the need to win. This kind of pressure is too much to put on a young boy, no matter how gifted he is. Like Fred, Pandolfini loses sight of his young charge's innocence and age, and tries to mold him into a chess-playing machine. In some sense, the coach is fighting the ghosts of his past through Josh. It isn't until the end of the film that he is finally able to accept and love his student for who he is.
Ben Kingsley and Joe Mantegna do excellent jobs bringing their characters to life. These are men with faults, but it's those imperfections that enable us to empathize with them. Neither actor has an overabundance of screen time with which to develop a personality, but good performers can do a lot with an economy of scenes. Having only a handful of appearances, Laurence Fishburne faces an even more difficult challenge, but he nevertheless manages to convince us that he's Josh's true friend, concerned more about the boy's happiness than his success. Joan Allen, despite often being relegated to the background, gives a convincing portrayal of a mother who cares so much about her son's well-being that she's willing to take him away from his father, if necessary, to assure it.
When casting Searching for Bobby Fischer, the production team decided that instead of choosing a young name actor who might know little or nothing about chess, they would choose someone who was a chess player first and an actor second. Realism was important to the film makers -- they wanted chess-playing viewers to be spared the indignity of watching someone faking playing the game. In Max Pomeranc, an excellent choice was made. Not only is he an experienced chess player, but he acquits himself admirably in the role of Josh. He's not the best child actor to grace the screen, but he avoids the awkward obviousness of many.
Searching for Bobby Fischer is an intensely fascinating movie capable of involving those who are ignorant about chess as well as those who love it. The focus of the film is less on the actual game than it is on the people, emotions, and pressures surrounding Josh. It is a tale of human trials and triumph, not a sports movie that panders to a certain segment of the population. Chess may not be the most exciting activity to watch, but Searching for Bobby Fischer makes for engaging entertainment. [Berardinelli's rating: 3 stars out of 4]
Labels: biography, chess, drama
IMDb 73/100
MetaCritic (critics=89, viewers=74)
RottenTomatoes (critics=98, viewers=85)
Berardinelli's original review
NOTE: Robert James Fischer (March 9, 1943-January 17, 2008) was an American chess Grandmaster and the eleventh World Chess Champion. He passed away at age 64 due to kidney failure, in Reykjavik, Iceland. He was a renowned child prodigy who became a world-renowned figure after winning the 1972 World Chess Championship against Boris Spassky.
Joshua Waitzkin (born December 4, 1976) is an American former chess player, martial arts world champion, and author. As a child, he was recognized as a prodigy, and won the U.S. Junior Chess championship in 1993 and 1994. He stopped playing competitive chess because he lost his love for the game, feeling alienated by the immense pressure, external expectations (fueled by the film Searching for Bobby Fischer), and a coaching style that forced him to play defensively against his natural, creative style. He felt disconnected from the pure joy of the game, leading him to abandon high-level play to pursue martial arts (Tai Chi Chuan) and focus on broader principles of learning, as presented in his book The Art of Learning.