Hollywood’s busiest and worst actor is at it again, with two films out this week alone (he filmed them both at the weekend). But does the wreckage of a once great actor lurk somewhere within Cage’s permatanned skull, forever besieged with gruesome memories of Season of the Witch and National Treasure: Book of Secrets? You’ll have to read on to find out… [SPOILER: probably not]
We love films. Well, we love most of them. Some of them are only OK, and some of them we’d like to get our greasy paws on and re-cast and re-direct all together. Here are five of them, because ten would have gotten me over-excited and I’d never be able to settle for my nap otherwise.
It’s summer, the kids are bored and the grown-ups are too warm for Twister – it’s time for family cinema gold. Why not bring out yet another movie in which animals can talk, couple it with a lack-lustre storyline, and a mish-mash of actors. Cook it for about a year, let it cool for a month and what are we left with? Zookeeper.
How would you define ‘guilty pleasure’? Listening to ABBA? Stealing Pick’n’Mix? Cutting up orphans and dissolving them in an acid bath? Those are all valid examples of guilty pleasures, but now that Burlesque exists they only qualify thanks to the same sort of linguistic technicality which allows us to simultaneously describe both Ann Widdecombe and Natalie Portman as ‘people’. More addictive than crack and less than half as nutritious, Burlesque is a whole new filthy world of awesome.