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As the preeminent Keats scholar in my small cadre of illiterate friends, let me say that I was mostly outraged at the shabby treatment accorded the poet by director Jane Campion (LAist review here). I had such high hopes for this film when I entered the screening, but everything was dashed in short order. Gone was any indication of Keats' magnificent intellectual gift. Rather, he was rendered as little more than a simpering poet chasing after Fanny Brawne. Campion would have been better served focusing on Keats' last days in Rome with Joseph Severn. That would have made for some marvelous cinema. I probably liked I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell more than most, but then again I do fucking rule! Tucker Max is obviously a cretin, but the film is mostly a genial, albeit raw rendering of a bachelor party gone terribly south (LAist review here; LAist interview with director Bob Gosse here). It's definitely worth a peek on DVD (assuming there is tons more nudity).
Bright Star
I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell
Michael Jackson's: This Is It
Surrogates
The Boys Are Back
Whip It
Paris, Texas (Criterion Collection)
Pontypool
Saw VI
Little Ashes
Tennessee
St. Trinian's
The Donner Party
Bonekickers
Schoolgirl Report Vol. 6: What Parents Would Gladly Hush Up
