The first legitimate review of Tom Cruise‘s first film with his United Artists venture, Lions For Lambs is out, care of Variety. A sentence of summary:
Carnahan’s script dutifully checks off the issues, it becomes clear the discourse is leading nowhere, and is merely a rerun of arguments already extensively aired by media around the world.
Pretty much what we expected, no? And while the review actually gives minor cred to Cruise’s performance (he has the most “sparks”), this doesn’t bode well for Tom’s attempted comeback or new business venture.
So what will become of Mr. Cruise if this goes down Rendition way (Meryl! I trusted you!) as a critical and commercial dud (which its gonna, I promise)? A few more tries, I guess. But does a Nazi-themed summer flick really look like its gonna do the trick? Or better question: Is anything gonna do the trick? I know I’m a considerably more Cruise-suspect person than the average person, but as much as Hollywood forgives its sinners, I just don’t see Cruise’s “sins” as the type you wash away with some rehab. He’s insane. And is a high-up in an evil corporate cult-religion, which, granted, is probably no more evil or corporate than most religions, but the whole alien element just makes its crazy a lot more detectable to the average Joe. Anyway.. I’m just making a wild guess, but I think Cruise is a non-existent career waiting to happen…
But anyway, today was a two sided dragon of PR disasters attempting their resurrection. The first bunch of reviews of Britney‘s new album came pouring in, and they were.. overwhelmingly positive. Mind you, The New York Daily News isn’t Rolling Stone. But its something. One of my favourite reviews came from Idolator. A taste:
The good news: it’s not nearly as bad as you may have thought, or been led to believe. Her handlers may be unable to keep her from falling face first into a puddle of her own Frappucino puke outside Wal-Mart, but once she lays down her notorious cat yawp, her superproducers are free to turn it into another squeaky sound effect in their passable, expensive-sounding dance-pop, without fear she’s going to storm the studio, drunken grab the decks, and somehow fuck it up.
One of the less positive ones, but still, “passable” is better than “leading to nowhere.” Good on you, handlers. I’d bet on Britney’s career over Tom’s in a heartbeat.