Billy Elliot (2000) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski) |
The recipe: while still a lad, Rocky Balboa
drops out of boxing, decides to challenge Nureyev instead of Apollo
Creed.
Males over 45 rated this much lower than the other demographic groups. They voted it a solid but unspectacular 7.6. (Teenage girls vote it 9.5!). I pretty much agree with the assessment of my contemporaries. It was an OK movie, but I'll be darned if I can understand why people think this is one of the best 250 or all time, or why this guy got a Best Director nomination instead of Cameron Crowe. |
This movie is the official
British #3 formula picture
Formula #1: quaint historical Empire pictures where everyone says "I do so think it ever so very much, my dear sir" every other sentence. Formula #2: "Lock, Stock, and _____ Smoking Barrels" |
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Formula #3: Take a small
town in the U.K., beset by hardship, where somebody in that town wants
to do something different from the norm. Maybe they want to play
the flugelhorn, or grow cocaine, or run a male strip show, or leave
boxing to learn how to quilt .....
Set up some forces opposed to them - mine owners, small-minded yokels, unaccepting fathers .... Have the common folk rally behind them because their peculiarity is just part of the infinite variety of life ... In this case, they stretched the credibility a bit too far at the end of the film. Of course, it was to be expected that the hardcase father would eventually accept his son's desire to dance. All of us who are fathers know that we have to accept that our kids aren't exactly like us. It is not credible, however, that the father was willing to break a strike, was willing to become a scab, to finance the kid's dancing career. You know the drill, you'll do almost anything to help your kids, even if your son wants to be the world's quilting and macramé champion, but you won't violate your principles to finance it. Would you rob a bank or vote against your conscience for your kid's macramé career? Doubtful. |
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Anyway, this whole movie was just a
bit too manufactured and too familiar for my taste.
I sure hope that there is more hope in those small towns in the U.K. than we see in these movies. If economic times get too hard, they can always attract tourists by advertising the strip shows, little old ladies growing dope, and policemen getting naked in public. And then those eccentrics can show the rest of the small-minded villagers that life is more than boxing, mining, and drinking, and soon all of the United Kingdom will be pirouetting and growing dope and quilting. Of course, that will reduce the number of tourists that come to see the quaint hardship. |
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