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Ken Loach

Film Review: Ken Loach Misfires with Generic ‘The Angels’ Share’

The Angels' Share
HollywoodChicago.com Oscarman rating: 2.5/5.0
Rating: 2.5/5.0

CHICAGO – “Once you’re involved in the shit, you can’t get out.” Ken Loach, filmmaker of the working class and longtime supporter of people who are just trying to better their lives knows this kind of statement isn’t true. We can all climb out of the shit. And his latest, “The Angels’ Share,” is yet another tale of a young man who has made some mistakes in his life beginning that climb to adulthood and responsibility. While it has some likable characters, particularly its charismatic lead, it’s impossible to shake the feeling that we’ve seen this movie before. To be blunt, I never had a reason to care, which is not something that can be said about most of Loach’s films. This one is just bland.

Film News: Michael Haneke’s ‘Amour’ Wins Top Prize at Cannes Festival

CHICAGO – After receiving eight previous prizes at the Cannes Film Festival, German filmmaker Michael Haneke became the first person in history to win the Palme d’Or twice within a mere three-year period. Haneke snagged the top prize at Cannes for “Amour,” a widely praised drama about an elderly couple whose love is challenged by the physical frailties of age.

DVD Round-Up: ‘Casino Jack and the United States of Money,’ ‘Under Still Waters’

Under Still Waters

CHICAGO – The DVD Round-Up has gone silent for a few weeks on summer vacation but as more and more interesting titles threaten to fall through the cracks, it returns with three art films that are definitely worth a look. Don’t worry. Summer vacation hasn’t made the Round-Up arthouse-only, but it’s nice to comeback a little smarter-looking than when we left.

Top Five Irish Films: ‘Into the West,’ ‘Once,’ ‘The Commitments,’ ‘Bloody Sunday,’ ‘The Wind That Shakes the Barley’

HOLLYWOOD – Someone once said there are two kinds of people: “Those who are Irish and those who wish they were Irish.” While mom claimed I was the first, being an American for a few generations tossed me into the “mutt” category. If there truly is Irish in me, it’s in my big toe or my ring finger, which hardly makes me the Irish lass I had hoped.

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