Mike Mcglone

All that's needed is a guy getting hit in the nuts and a food fight to have the first film solely based on cinematic clichés. I can't wait to see the deleted scenes when it comes out on DVD.

Continue reading: Hardball Review

This time around, Burns once again plays slacker to McGlone's uptight business-oriented younger brother. Burns's Mickey, a contented laid-back cab driver, falls in love (with Bahns) and gets married on 24 hours notice. This is ridiculed by his brother Francis (McGlone), who is experiencing relationship problems of his own in the form of a deep-rooted affair that threatens to break up his marriage. The two brothers' problems are linked together by the fact that Francis's young mistress, played by Cameron Diaz, is Mickey's ex-fiancee.

Continue reading: She's The One Review

Small world. Art imitates life.

Continue reading: The Bone Collector Review

However, despite the effort Giraldi puts in, the movie comes up short. You keep waiting for that one scene or piece of dialogue that will get things going, and it never comes. We get an appetizer, but the main course never arrives.

Continue reading: Dinner Rush Review

Jack (Jack Mulcahy), the only married brother, is tempted by another woman. Patrick (Mike McGlone) is torn between committing to his long-time girlfriend and striking out for something new. Barry (Edward Burns, who also wrote and directed), is the classic slacker, unable to even conceive of commitment and an unbeliever in the very notion of true love.

Continue reading: The Brothers McMullen Review

But Body Art gets its real freak on in the middle -- profiling cultures and people who put enormous holes in their earlobes so they droop down, who use battery acid to get a bright yellow makeup effect, who put so many studs in their lips they can't talk right, to men who have scars chiselled into their bodies so as to take on the appearance of an alligator. The end result is so explicit and grotesque that I was actually nauseous by the end of it.

Continue reading: Body Art Review

Surprisingly, the redemption-by-baseball picture "Hardball" is not some warm-fuzzy "Bad News Bears" clone transplanted to the projects. It's considerably better than that.

Yes, it is about a drunk, gambling-addicted ticket scalper who spitefully agrees to coach a ghetto little league team for $500 a week to pay off a two angry bookies. Yes, the scalper is played by the historically vacuous Keanu Reeves, and yes, he's going to learn What's Really Important In Life from endearingly foul-mouthed street kids who live cautionary-tale type lives of inner city strife.

But as fast as "Hardball" sets up such eye-rolling clichés, director Brian Robbins knocks them down. There are no inspirational montages of the squad pulling together and honing their skills. The well-financed rival team? Present and accounted for, but not a major subplot. Ditto for the schoolteacher romantic interest (Diane Lane) and the headstrong tenement mom whose respect Reeves must earn.

Continue reading: Hardball Review

It's time to hold a wake for the tired clichés of the serial killer thriller. In fact, it's time Hollywood put the whole genre to bed.

I say, from now on, unless a director can promise to at least give "Seven" or "Silence of the Lambs" a run for their money, no more of these pictures should be green-lighted.

These movies, in which gifted cops track the grisly murder sprees of guiltless psychotics through gritty urban landscapes, have become as standardized as their low-brow cousin, the slasher flick.

Continue reading: The Bone Collector Review