Viewing a German independent film makes a film-critic reveal his inner demons. Inspired by some of the most negative film-reviews of the past 70 years, this satire on film reviews features Angus Macfadyen Braveheart, Equilibrium. The loss of year-old outsider Shaw Templeton's mother forces him into the unsteady care of his estranged, recluse father, William. A severely injured man and woman awake in an abandoned sanitarium only to discover that a sadistic caretaker holds the keys to their freedom and the horrific answers as to their real identity.
A father and son team up with America's first female detective to solve crimes in the Wild West. In a parody of "Game of Thrones," nobles from the Eight Kingdoms gather for Purge Fest to try and put an end to their violent conflicts, while members of the Fat King's own family conspire to overthrow him.
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A Long Island farmer bands together a group of childhood friends to form an unlikely group of spies who turn the tide in America's fight for independence. A rocket scientist in s Los Angeles is secretly the disciple of occultist Aleister Crowley. Lane, a serious purveyor of modern masterpieces, discovers his multi-million dollar purchase is a fraud - perpetrated by the beautiful assistant of the deceased artist. He has a few choices in front of him- will he do the honorable thing, the deceitful thing - or something far worse.
Written by Door Kinetic Arts Festival. Enjoy a night in with these popular movies available to stream now with Prime Video. Start your free trial. Find showtimes, watch trailers, browse photos, track your Watchlist and rate your favorite movies and TV shows on your phone or tablet! IMDb More. Keep track of everything you watch; tell your friends. Full Cast and Crew. Release Dates. Official Sites. Company Credits. Technical Specs. Plot Summary. Plot Keywords. Parents Guide. External Sites.
What does your community newspaper look like? What stories do you want told? We the current Gleaner writers have felt privileged to share the stories of so many passionate people, engaged in remarkable pursuits, and look forward to working with the community as we write the next chapter. Sarah Rennie — What do you do if the next generation does not want or know what to do with heirlooms that have been passed down….
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Par Mario Pitre. Photo : Mario Pitre. Me notifier des. The Gleaner Preserving Valley history one family at a time Sarah Rennie — What do you do if the next generation does not want or know what to do with heirlooms that have been passed down…. With that thinking, they seem to be more of a statement piece to me, more of a work of art than a functional mechanism for time telling. I asked my grandma about these once. I sat in an old floral armchair at her house, gazing up at her infamous faceless clock with disapproval as it sat mockingly on the wall, as if in a place of honor or high-esteem.
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I hated this one in particular because it disrupted the cozy antique style of her home. It had a sleek silver frame and metal hands with an all black backdrop contrasting starkly with the warm wooden tones decorating the rest of the house. This clock was much too modern, too alien, too…faceless. My grandma glanced up from the book she was reading enough times to see my childish sights firmly aimed on the clock, ready to fire. Do you have a problem with my clock? I pouted around for the rest of the afternoon.
Clearly my cynical attitude towards life was already materializing in childhood. I still thought faceless clocks were more like disturbing works of art. Definitely not accurate keepers of time, and almost untruthful somehow.
I was never able to comprehend how right my Grandma was. His eyes on the road, her eyes were on him, lovingly studying that face he always makes while concentrating. Her mouth was creased into a goofy smile, resonant with that of someone keeping a secret that was about to unfold, because they were, because they had just gotten engaged. He offered her a brief grin, glancing out the corner of his eye at her before returning to the road because he sensed she was watching him.
She looked away, blushing, and turned her gaze to the rolling landscape beyond the passenger window of the car.
Her smile seemed impermeable that day. We met each other at a coffee shop. He hated coffee. But he was there catching up with some of his old high school friends. I was there because I needed something to help me endure my college workload. He got up and bumped into me reaching for the same coffee. He laughed and we both went to sit down at our respective tables. I grew incredibly uncomfortable at this point, being the awkward introvert that I was, used to being invisible.
But for some strange reason I agreed to sit with him. Totally out of character. It must have been the fumes of espresso messing with my head. I remember being introduced to all his friends at the table.
I remember laughing at everything he said, because he was so freaking funny. I remember how the girl whose coffee he tried to get glared at me the whole time, and how we laughed about it later. I suppose I grew to love him most for his spirit, because he was the kind of person that emanated kindness and positivity and was so witty and fun that you just wanted to spend your whole life cherishing them in the hopes that a little bit of them will rub off on you. And he had this unshakable will to believe in people and the world in spite of everything that I found at least fascinating, even if it seemed implausible with my introverted pessimistic nature.
He was one of those few people that you find in a lifetime that you think truly deserves to be on this Earth more than anyone else.
Exactly the kind of person you would expect to meet in a coffee shop spontaneously and only because of a drink mix-up. Some days he really had me convinced our relationship was pre-ordained by some higher power, that the universe actually was conspiring in our favor. We were in the park a couple years later when he proposed. I remember being so pissed because it was raining. I hated the rain. God bless him for wanting to put up with my charming personality for the rest of his life. He sat me on a bench and pulled out a coffee from the plastic bag he was carrying.
He laughed, and I readied myself for another onslaught of bitching because this was not a joke, when he pulled out another smaller bag that looked like the kind that usually held some sort of bakery item. I once read on the Internet that when you fall in love with someone, you should fall in love with their eyes. When all else deteriorates through the weathering of age, the body, the skin, the hair, the voice and unfortunately even the brain, the eyes remain mostly unchanged. And eyes can express a variety of different emotions on a daily basis: love, pain, fear, happiness, anger.
And yet, maybe the Internet was right, because I do think eyes become timeless. But only in death. And then the eyelids are gently closed. The eyelids are always closed and the tarp pulled over the body because we want things to remain faceless. And then the maggots swarm the corpse, crawling through empty eye sockets. And the broken skeleton of a forearm is twisted into such a position that it seems to be grasping towards its eyes, toward those black holes, toward the face consumed.
Yes, I also read once that the eyes are always the first to go. The love tends not to be that definitive preserved emotion. I hate those faceless clocks. The road was icy that day; they knew it. It had just rained the night before and they, upon waking early the next morning in preparation to leave, had been forewarned by that local weatherman that ice would have formed on the roads, so be careful out there.
Especially not when a tractor-trailer is flying full speed towards you in the other lane, probably trying to make some last minute deliveries before Christmas. And thousands of couples just like them were just trying to make it home for the same occasion. One minute they were laughing together in the car, excited to announce their engagement at the family Christmas party, relishing in their love for each other the way innocent young couples do. It seems too easy, when a car lies overturned on the road, as if flipping something that weighs the same as an elephant is so simple.