The first soft core porn flick made in former Yugoslavia (today Croatia). It was a huge cause celebre for the participants and equally infamous for its innumerable shortcomings ranging from the lack of coherent plot-line to the most basic elements of film making. However, in time, it has gained a somewhat cult reputation. A priceless insight into an odd culture and its lax sexual mores and follies!
On the Road captures the bleak, hyper-masculine world of long-haul trucking in Northern Mexico, where anything can and will happen. A hard-boiled, neon-noir romantic thriller, it shows the gritty reality of roadside diners, truck stops, and truck cemeteries alongside the expansive, breathless beauty of the Mexican desert highways.
It took writers D.B Weiss and David Benioff two years to give us a promising final season. Two. Years. It was just going to be six episodes, which was short considering that all the other seasons — except season 7 — were 10 episodes. 10. 6 wasn’t enough, and even HBO wanted to give the writers more episodes. More seasons, even. However, the writers wanted to get out of the show as quickly as possible to work on other projects. This abruptness is clearly shown in this season.
The assassins in Bullet Train are quirky, deadly, and diverse. Yet, they all seem to be some type of caricature. While the movie is fun and action-packed, it’s also packed with stereotypes that don’t make for the best representation.
Unrelentingly funny, highly entertaining, and ridiculously absurd, My Movie Starring Paul Dano is, according to its creator, Joe Bartone, a tribute to the willful ignorance of independent filmmaking found in the late '70s in New York City. Developed through open discussions with the cast at the reading table, the mockumentary follows a delusional and fame-starved indie director, Herman Rumowicz, through the process of making his very first feature movie starring Paul Dano.
A young girl named Hailey Mays sings a country song that is named after the film's title.
Based on the best-selling novel by Angie Thomas and a maxim of the late Tupac Shakur.
