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Osmosis Jones (2001)
God help me, I really liked this film.
10 March 2004
As an aesthete, this movie goes against everything I stand for, but I found it nonetheless very entertaining. It was like a peculiar yet satisfying mix between the Incredible Journey, Toy Story, and Lethal Weapon or Rush Hour (the whole loose-cannon, loner cop with a new partner bit).

I found the idea rather original: the human body is like a body of government, the cop is a white blood cell, the "president" was the cell whose will was that of the man (Bill Murray), the villain is a virus who hangs out in seedy areas of the body with shady characters, the bladder is a sort of train station/airport... clever stuff.

I did have issues with the "What a zit- I mean, what is it?" part, though: it landed on her lip! Wrong! I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing that. Molly Shannon is quite a sport. 7/10
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Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear....
1 March 2004
I remember that I was absolutely enchanted when I read Tuck Everlasting at about age eleven. So when I heard that a film had been made based on one of my favourite early novels, I couldn't wait to see it, forgetting one of the central proverbs in cinema: "The book is ALWAYS better."

A travesty in every sense of the word, bordering on sacrilege.

Sitting through the film I nursed an ever-dwindling hope that it would get better, that it would come to a point in which the magic of the book would encapsulated on-screen. There was no such point, and as I realised that the film had already climaxed and that what I was now watching was the denouement, I felt -among other things- rather insulted; I had just been patronised by a film that used only the characters and but a mere shadow of the premise of Natalie Babbitt's charming story.

In the end, I was indescribably disappointed that such illustrious dramatic names as William Hurt, Sissy Spacek, and above all, Sir Ben Kingsley would lend themselves to this insufferably vapid waste of film.

I was ashamed that my name is Jesse, so horribly was that particular character portrayed. The Jesse of the book was not nearly as much of a goober as the one played by Jonathan Jackson.

The only redeeming quality of this film was that of Miles' (Scott Bairstow) passionate soliloquy regarding the sacrifices one must make for immortality; I almost felt my heartstrings being plucked. But at this point, the film is a lost cause.

I left the theatre wanting my hour and a half back, wishing I had gone to see The Ring instead; now whenever I think of Tuck Everlasting, my fondness is disrupted by remembrances of the film that should never have been made.
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