Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo
Release Date : 25,Apr 2008

Director	Jon Hurwitz, Hayden Schlossberg
Producer	Lampton Enochs
Starring	Paula Garces, Kal Penn, Paula Garces, Neil Patrick Harris

Synopsis: America's favorite pothead pals, Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Kal Penn), return with an uproariously un-PC sequel that skewers everything from racial prejudice to the president of the United States. HAROLD & KUMAR ESCAPE FROM GUANTANAMO BAY picks up shortly after the first film, cult



New York Times Review:

If you think the last seven years have been one long, dumb, dirty joke — or maybe if, sometimes, you just wish you could believe as much — then “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay,” written and directed by Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg, just might be the perfect movie for you. That it is, quite unapologetically, far from perfect in every respect almost doesn’t matter. The simple fact that a movie exists with the title “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay” is cause for hope. Or maybe for alarm. In any case, for a few laughs.

Be warned that some of these are fairly cheap and crude, involving the standard motifs of R-rated male comedy: excrement, leering sexual aggression, hysterical sexual insecurity and drug use. Not much new ground is broken in this department, which doesn’t mean that the jokes themselves aren’t funny.

The idea of gay sex induces panic; the sight of unclothed female flesh causes jaws to go slack; and in a crisis someone is sure to whip out a joint. (I won’t spoil any surprises by saying just who.) At one point the movie’s titular heroes drop in on a friend who’s having a “bottomless” party at which there seem to be only female guests, and the movie loses some credibility when it declines to show the full extent of its stars’ eventual participation in the festivities. Dudes, if the dude in “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” could put his business up on the screen, then so can you. It’s a whole new world.

But in other, more significant ways, the “Harold & Kumar” movies, of which this is the second (after the immortal “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle”) and I hope not the last, go further than most stoner raunch comedies in acknowledging certain realities of contemporary American life.

The simplest innovation, but also in a way the most radical, lies in Harold and Kumar themselves. Played by John Cho (he’s Harold Lee, the Korean-American investment banker) and Kal Penn (he’s Kumar Patel, the Indian-American would-be medical student), they are a postcollegiate multicultural odd couple in a world where ignorance and prejudice do battle with hypersensitivity and political correctness. They are at once nerdy achievers caught in the gears of meritocracy and stoner rebels against the machine. In their exasperated, half-baked (or, in the reefer-mad Kumar’s case, fully baked) way, these representative men mock all sides.

And just about everything else too. Their first adventure, four years ago, was simple and aspirational: they had the munchies and they wanted some burgers. But now times have changed, even though it is only a few days later in screen time. Paranoia is no longer an occasional, bong-induced side effect, but rather standard operating procedure at the highest levels of government.

Well, sort of. When Kumar is asked to step aside for a random security check at the airport, he blusters about ethnic profiling, which it turns out is less a matter of righteous outrage than an attempt to distract the security agents from finding the marijuana in his underwear. He and Harold are going to Amsterdam to find Maria (Paula Garces), the new love in Harold’s life, but rather than wait until they land in that paradise of legal vice, Kumar tries to fire up the pipe in the lavatory at 30,000 feet.

To their fellow passengers Kumar’s bong looks like a bomb, and to a zealous Homeland Security bureaucrat (Rob Corddry), its discovery exposes a terrorist conspiracy between Al Qaeda and North Korea. And so into United States custody, and then, post-escape, on another stoner road trip, to Texas, where Kumar’s college sweetheart, Vanessa (Danneel Harris), is about to marry a well-connected prepster named Colton (Eric Winter). On the way they meet people who challenge some stereotypes and confirm others, and they also, in a sublime pop-cultural in-joke carried over from the trip to White Castle, hook up with the great Neil Patrick Harris.

“Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay” offers a shambling series of hit-and-miss goofs, rather than incisive satire directed at Bush-era America. That is the job of Mr. Corddry’s erstwhile “Daily Show” colleagues Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Mr. Hurwitz and Mr. Schlossberg (who wrote but did not direct “White Castle”) instead rely on a general sense of good-humored exasperation that never reaches the boiling point of political indignation.

But precisely because their attitudes are so bluntly hedonistic and apolitical, Harold and Kumar manage to be fairly persuasive when they get around to criticizing the status quo, which the movie has the wit to acknowledge itself as part of.

“It’s people like you who make the rest of the world think Americans are stupid. But we’re not stupid, and we’re not going to take this anymore.” These lines are spoken by an exasperated government official, and they could, I suppose, be directed at the makers and stars of “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.” But they’re not stupid, and to the extent that the movie is, its idiocy serves the cause of good sense and intelligence. And no, I’m not smoking anything.

Deception

Deception

Release Date : 25,Apr 2008

Director	Marcel Langenegger
Producer	Robbie Brenner, David Bushell, Hugh Jackman, John Palermo, Arnold Rifkin, Marjor
Starring	Hugh Jackman, Ewan McGregor, Michelle Wiliams, Maggie Q, Natasha Henstridge

RUNNING TIME: 108 minutes, Color

A simple enough question, but how Jonathan McQuarry answers it will change his life forever. A corporate auditor adrift in a sea of New York's power elite, Jonathan's work is his entire life. But a chance meeting with Wyatt Bose, a charismatic corporate lawyer, introduces Jonathan to a decadent playground for Manhattan's executive upper crust. For these power brokers, whose eighteen-hour workdays leave no time for a personal life, there's "The List" - a sex club, of sorts, where the right cell-phone number and four simple words ("Are you free tonight?") can lead to an evening's sexual fulfillment. It's a world of "intimacy without intricacy," as Jonathan's first conquest (or vice versa) explains to him, and through The List Jonathan discovers a side of himself that he didn't know existed. But an affair with a ravishing and mysterious stranger known to Jonathan only by her first initial 'S', will expose him to yet another world he never imagined - one of betrayal, treachery and murder. (20th Century Fox)

REVIEW:=

Deception, starring Hugh Jackman and Ewan McGregor, is being sold as an "erotic thriller." Any experienced cinemagoer knows that this phrase, which promises two things, usually indicates a film that will fail to deliver either. American studio films either tiptoe around sex or stomp on it with clown shoes, and the modern thriller often relies on activities that are not, and cannot ever be, thrilling -- electronic funds transfers, typing, mouse-clicking. Deception, directed by Marcel Lanegger from a script by Mark Bomback, begins as Ewan McGregor's lonely auditor Jonathan McQuarry labors late into the night in a huge conference room, vast windows looking out over the lights of the city. Shut in, walled-away, cut-off, Jonathan is worse than miserable; he's invisible. But then Hugh Jackman's brash, blunt Wyatt Bose waltzes in, makes some small talk, sparks up a joint. It's not what Jonathan's used to. Then again, he hates what he's used to.

Jonathan and Wyatt become fast friends, but Jackman's wolf-like smile makes it clear he's the alpha dog in the friendship. But a mishap of swapped cell phones means Jonathan and Wyatt have crossed lines -- and lives -- and Jonathan gets an enigmatic call over and over, different women's voices all saying the same thing: "Are you free tonight?" One time, he says yes, and stumbles into a bizarre new social circle -- The List, where well-to-do men and women connect anonymously and briefly for, as one woman explains to Jonathan, "intimacy without intricacy." And, for a while, Jonathan -- lonely, uptight, Jonathan -- goes for it. Hotel rooms, frantic couplings, the pleasures of contact without the pressures of connection. Wyatt doesn't mind Jonathan taking advantage of Wyatt's membership in an exclusive group; have fun, go for it. But soon Jonathan meets someone on The List, a woman he only knows by her initial, 'S' (Michelle Williams), one who actually makes him feel something more than lust, and you sense that rules will be broken.

And then the twists and turns are revealed, but it's not as if we're being taken through terra incognita; instead, we're going back over a route we've traveled many times before, with more capable people at the wheel. There is a startling moment of violence; there is a revelation; there is a demand made that, if complied with, may prevent even worse things from happening. And Bomback -- who also wrote Live Free or Die Hard and Godsend -- does not vary that familiar plot enough to make us feel truly engaged by any of it.

For a while, you can slide along on the silvery sheen of Deception; photographed by Dante Spinotti (Heat, The Insider), Deception at the very least looks great. Shooting on film for daytime scenes and with digital cameras for scenes set at night, Spinotti captures the brute, blurry rush and push of modern urban life as Wyatt and Jonathan cruise clubs, or Jonathan races through the streets trying to figure out what's being done to him. But beauty, as we know, is only skin deep, and Deception goes through the zigs and zags of its plot like a figure-skating champ doing the compulsory exercises -- not without skill and not without energy, but completely without any spark of creativity or individuality.

The actors are all better than this material, and that makes a few scenes shine; McGregor actually conveys Jonathan's loneliness and self-doubt, and when The List unfolds itself to him, he dives in like a kid at a candy store, albeit one where the candy comes wrapped in expensive lingerie. Jackman gets to show off a nice snarl as Wyatt's easy grin breaks open to reveal sharp teeth. And Williams manages, in one scene, to be both earthy and sensual, combining warmth with real heat. In fact, the cast is so good that it made me wonder what Deception would have been like if it did not have to turn into a story about a con -- if it could have simply explored the complicated territories and transactions of desire and discretion in the modern age, if it could have been about how all these people wanted to live instead of about what some of these people wanted to steal.

And there are a few moments in Deception that have some small flicker of an erotic charge to them, but they're swiftly passed over so we can get to the lying and the stealing and the hitting and the chasing. And so we get scenes full of modern thriller clichés -- foreign bank accounts, the slowly-moving animation of the progress bar during an international funds transfer. People get uncomfortable thinking about sex in terms of desire and want, but no one gets uncomfortable thinking about money in terms of take and steal. Sex, in American films, is reduced to either mainstream Hollywood's blue-lit close-shot faces or the grim industrial product that is modern pornography. And there are occasional exceptions to that on both sides of the spectrum, but mostly, a Hollywood film cannot be erotic; it has to be an erotic thriller. And much like other recent erotic thrillers -- Derailed, Perfect Stranger, Basic Instinct 2, Taking Lives -- Deception is star-filled and competently crafted, but so afraid of real sexuality that it instead offers us soft-lit perfume-ad images, and is erroneously convinced that moviegoers won't be able to spot lazy storytelling once their glasses are steamed up by a few flashes of skin. Erotic stories are about want and feel; thriller stories are about take and kill. And you can combine those very different things into a cohesive film -- Vertigo's the best possible demonstration, but there are others -- but Deception doesn't come close to that level of quality; if Deception's good, glossy cast and gorgeous visuals elevate it a little above the likes of similar recent films, that's not so much praising Deception as it is noting how far down our expectations have been lowered.

Then She Found Me

Then She Found Me

Release Date : 25,Apr 2008

Director	Helen Hunt
Producer	Connie Tavel, Helen Hunt, Christine Vachon, Pamela Koffler, Katie Roumel
Starring	Helen Hunt, Bette Midler, Colin Firth, Matthew Broderick, Ben Shankman

Running Time 100 minutes


NEW YORK TIMES REVIEW:=

“Then She Found Me,” a serious comedy, is more impressive for what it refuses to do than for its modest accomplishment. The directorial debut of Helen Hunt, who plays April Epner, an anxious 39-year-old kindergarten teacher in New York City, it has all the ingredients of a slick, commercial farce, which it emphatically is not.

In fact, the movie, based on a novel by Elinor Lipman, has enough material for two such farces. In one, a childless mother obsessed with her ticking biological clock becomes pregnant after clumsy breakup sex with her husband of less than a year. (Her obstetrician is played by, of all people, Salman Rushdie.) In the other, a woman who has just lost her adoptive mother is suddenly besieged by a garrulous local talk-show personality who claims to be her biological mother.

The movie is unusually sensitive to the anxieties around adoption. Shortly before her death, April’s ailing mother (Lynn Cohen) argues that there is no difference between raising an adopted child and one of your own; her daughter should cease fretting and adopt a Chinese baby, she declares. April’s vehement refusal to consider the possibility rings as a tacit insult to her mother’s parenting skills, but the simmering conflict is never brought into the open.

Ms. Hunt takes every opportunity to avoid easy comic shtick and cutesy-poo sentimentality in an effort to make her characters act and sound like real people. Where typical Hollywood comedies erase ethnicity, Ms. Hunt emphasizes her characters’ various shades of Jewishness. April doesn’t seem especially religious, but in the opening scene she goes through a Jewish wedding ceremony with her childish husband, Ben (Matthew Broderick), who goes to live with his mother after their breakup. “Then She Found Me” also clearly indicates that the characters’ lifestyles are not unrealistically comfortable.

All the stars, including Ms. Hunt, are pointedly deglamorized. April, alarmingly gaunt, with straining neck tendons, appears to wear little or no makeup. As her biological mother, Bernice Graves, Bette Midler is a blowsy, plump loudmouth and bottle redhead whose obsequious behavior makes much of what she says sound false. Indeed some of it is. In her first of several lies, she claims that April was conceived in a delirious one-night stand with Steve McQueen and relinquished for adoption after three days.

April’s would-be romantic savior, Frank (Colin Firth), the recently divorced father of two children (one is April’s pupil), looks as if he is going to seed. Spluttering, neurotic and hot-tempered, he has all the romantic promise of an over-the-hill Lancelot astride a tottering nag. Frank also lives in a seedy suburban neighborhood far from any center of action. Mr. Broderick’s Ben is a bloated, inarticulate man-child. His two awkward sex scenes with Ms. Hunt (one in the back seat of a car) are desperate, joyless quickies that involve minimal undressing and leave April confused and Ben apologetic.

It falls to Ms. Hunt to stir these character types and clichéd situations into a palatable stew of genuine human emotions. As April cautiously makes her way, you can feel Ms. Hunt, both as director and actor, discarding sitcom conventions to shoot for something deeper and truer. And she achieves it, mostly through the shaded performances of Mr. Firth and Ms. Midler, as well as her own.

Mr. Firth’s Frank is hyper-emotional to a degree rarely seen in male characters in mainstream movies. When Frank gets upset, which is frequently, his face reddens, he bluntly speaks his mind and he often excuses himself to go for a walk and let off steam. Ms. Midler’s Bernice is a credible portrait of a narcissistic drama queen with a good heart beneath her celebrity bluster.

Connections between the characters deepen in spite of misunderstandings and obstacles. After April and Frank acknowledge their mutual attraction, their wary courtship proceeds in fits and starts, but they keep at it. Life isn’t easy for April as she muddles along, but you feel she is headed in the right direction.

“Then She Found Me” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It has some strong language and sexual situations.

THEN SHE FOUND ME

Opens on Friday in New York and Los Angeles.

Directed by Helen Hunt; written by Alice Arlen, Victor Levin and Ms. Hunt, based on the novel by Elinor Lipman; director of photography, Peter Donahue; edited by Pam Wise; music by David Mansfield; production designer, Stephen Beatrice; produced by Pam Koffler, Katie Roumel, Christine Vachon, Connie Tavel and Ms. Hunt; released by ThinkFilm. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes.

WITH: Helen Hunt (April Epner), Bette Midler (Bernice Graves), Colin Firth (Frank Harte), Matthew Broderick (Ben), Ben Shankman (Freddy), Lynn Cohen (Trudy Epner), John Benjamin Hickey (Alan/Man) and Salman Rushdie (Dr. Masani).

88 MINUTES

88 Minutes
Release Date : 18,Apr 2008

Director	Jon Avnet
Producer	Randall Emmett, George Furla, Avi Lerner, Jon Avnet, Gary Scott Thompson
Starring	Al Pacino, Alicia Witt, Amy Brenneman, Leelee Sobieski, Benjamin McKenzie, Deborah Kara Unger, William Forsythe, Neal McDonough, Stephen Moyer, Michael Eklund, Michal Yannai, Brendan Fletcher

In 88 Minutes, Dr. Jack Gramm, a college professor who moonlights as a forensic psychiatrist for the FBI. When Gramm receives a death threat claiming he has only 88 minutes to live, he must use all his skills and training to narrow down the possible suspects, who include a disgruntled student, a jilted former lover, and a serial killer who is already on death row, before his time runs out.


Review by CINEMATICAL:
Recently, many remarks have been cracked about running times of movies and the title 88 Minutes. "Is it too much to hope for that 88 Minutes will actually be 88 minutes?" our own James Rocchi asked me not too long ago. 88 minutes is a great running time for a movie, especially for busy critics with lots of movies to see and too many deadlines. You're in an out well before the welcome has worn out. Orson Welles' The Magnificent Ambersons is considered a masterpiece at 88 minutes, even cut down from its original 132. Bill Murray knew the power of 88 minutes when he turned in his final cut of the classic Quick Change (1990). The Woodsman (2004) would have been unbearable at anything longer than 88 minutes. And whatever else you have to say about them, Scary Movie, Sexy Beast, Spy Kids, The Big Bounce, Transporter 2, Wristcutters: A Love Story and Horton Hears a Who! never seemed too long.

But, alas, 88 Minutes runs 108 minutes, and it's too long. Al Pacino (with a poofy, rooster-head haircut) plays high-profile forensic psychologist Jack Gramm, whose testimony was almost solely responsible for the conviction of accused murderer Jon Forster (Neal McDonough). Today, Forster is going to the chair, while maintaining his innocence, and while identical murders are still being committed throughout Seattle. At 10:17 a.m., Gramm gets a call, saying he has 88 minutes left to live. That call comes about a half hour into the movie, and the 88 minutes passes by in an awkward, compressed 70 minutes, give or take, followed by the expected conclusion and credits. Couldn't a cleverer filmmaker have set the movie in real time, and then used flashbacks to do all that boring preliminary stuff? Wouldn't the film have been much better if it just started with a bang, with that phone call?

Gramm is also a university professor, and all his students, including teaching assistant Kim Cummings (Alicia Witt), Lauren Douglas (Leelee Sobieski) and Mike Stempt (Benjamin McKenzie) all act kinda creepy around him. The school's dean Carol Johnson (Deborah Kara Unger) acts creepy. Gramm's cop buddy Frank Parks (William Forsythe) acts creepy. Gramm's hard-working assistant Shelly Barnes (Amy Brenneman) acts suspicious. And even the hottie that Gramm woke up with this morning, Sara Pollard (Leah Cairns), acts weird. They all exhibit head-scratching moments of behavior. A suspense movie is supposed to give us red herrings and multiple suspects, but this is the far lazier Joe Eszterhas method: if everyone is a suspect you can film multiple endings and run audience tests to see who they'd prefer as the killer. The trouble with this is that all the other supposedly innocent characters still spend the movie acting weird, and we end up not liking anyone. I don't think this is what director Jon Avnet actually planned, however. Rather, my guess is that, to get bad performances from this many actors, you have to be a bad director.

Avnet mainly works as a film producer and a director of television, with only four other feature films to his credit, all forgettable: Fried Green Tomatoes (1991), The War (1994), Up Close & Personal (1996) and Red Corner (1997). Working from a screenplay by the equally unimpressive Gary Scott Thompson (Hollow Man and its sequels, The Fast and the Furious and its sequels, etc.), Avnet immediately betrays his mistrust in the audience. We start with a flashback to 1997, to an early murder. A character looks at a copy of the Seattle Times with a cover story on the death of Princess Diana. We see several shots of the paper, and then we get some inane dialogue about whether or not Di's death was an accident. Avnet wastes at least 20 clumsy seconds establishing the date and the place, neither of which turns out to be that important. Throughout the film characters constantly add a few extra words to their dialogue, helpfully describing what we can already see.

Besides that, 88 Minutes has a noticeable awkwardness, as if it were dashed off and never double-checked. Ideas come up and are dropped. At one point, Gramm hails a taxi and gives the driver $100 to let him drive. For the next 15 or 20 minutes, then, we get some bit actor sitting in the back of the cab, out of focus, while Pacino and Witt drive around and talk about who the killer might be. This character is like the elephant in the room, and nothing more ever happens with him. (I can't even tell you what his name is; there are two "cabbies" listed in the credits.) Most of the action flies by as characters call each other on cell phones and walk/run around while talking on cell phones. I'll admit that it's easy to follow, but the many logic loopholes betray even that one benefit. The villain spends the film trying to frame Gramm for the murders, but the very fact that Gramm is being threatened rather lets him off the hook. Not to mention that the killer's plan doesn't actually prevent Gramm from calling the police. I maintain that all this trouble could have been at least partly eased with an 88-minute running time. It would have given us less time to ponder ridiculous plot details, and it would have lightened the movie's dreadfully ponderous tone. But like a bad apple, that extra 20 minutes of wasted film has rotted the rest.

PLOT:-
In "88 Minutes", Al Pacino stars as Dr. Jack Gramm, a college professor who moonlights as a forensic psychiatrist for the FBI. When Gramm receives a death threat claiming he has only 88 minutes to live, he must use all his skills and training to narrow down the possible suspects, who include a disgruntled student, a jilted former lover, and a serial killer who is already on death row, before his time runs out.

APRIL 2008 BUZZ

Forbidden Kingdom (English Movie)

Release Date : 18,Apr 2008

Director	Rob Minkoff
Producer	Casey Silver
Starring	Jet Li, Jackie Chan, Michael Angarano, Collin Chou, Crystal Liu Yi Fei, Li Bing Bing

Synopsis: East meets West and kung-fu legends collide as Jackie Chan and Jet Li square off in the fists-a-flying, family-friendly FORBIDDEN KINGDOM. Based on the classical Chinese novel JOURNEY TO THE WEST, the film begins in modern-day Boston. There, while teenage kung-fu flick enthusiast Jason






NEW YORK TIMES REVIEW>>>: At first glance “Forbidden Kingdom,” the first movie to unite the martial arts action stars Jackie Chan and Jet Li, might be mistaken for a pastiche of its genre. Its main character, a Boston teenager named Jason (Michael Angarano), is obsessed with kung fu cinema, and the ways of modern Hollywood might lead you to expect the filmmakers to mock, travesty or wink at this obsession.

Instead they — the screenwriter John Fusco and the director Rob Minkoff — clearly share it. And though it is an English-language film (albeit a heavily accented one), “Forbidden Kingdom” is a faithful and disarmingly earnest attempt to honor some venerable and popular Chinese cinematic traditions.

These include a plot that is at times so convoluted as to teeter on the brink of incomprehensibility, a heavy brocade of martial honor and blurry mysticism, and above all a lot of wildly inventive fighting. The battles were choreographed by Yuen Wo Ping, one of the supreme masters of the art, and shot by Peter Pau, whose credits as a cinematographer include “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

Filmed on Chinese locations and studio sets, the movie shows the lavish artificiality that is, in the currently booming Chinese film industry, a sign of authenticity. Mr. Chan made his name in scruffier, scrappier Hong Kong entertainments, but as he has aged into an international superstar, he has come to seem at home just about everywhere. Here he plays two roles: an elderly junk dealer in 21st-century Boston and an itinerant fighter, specializing in the “drunken fist” style of combat, in a mythic ancient China.

Mr. Li also plays two parts, both in the mythic past: the mischievous Monkey King (who uses — what else? — monkey kung fu fighting techniques) and a monk. After an inconclusive and thrilling battle — surely the high point of the movie — the monk and Mr. Chan’s character join forces to help Jason, who has been transported to their world by a magic staff that once belonged to the Monkey King.

An evil warlord (Collin Chou) stands in their way, as does a white-haired witch (Li Bing Bing). Accompanying the monk, the drunk and the kid from Boston is a young woman named Golden Sparrow (Liu Yifei), a fearsome warrior in her own right, who seeks to avenge the death of her parents.

There is both a surfeit of motives and a dearth of momentum driving the narrative of “The Forbidden Kingdom,” which often drags in the expository sections between set pieces. But many of the set pieces are dazzling, even if, by now, audiences may be a bit jaded by high-flying wire work and artful blends of computer-generated imagery and traditional production design.

Still, the film works well enough as a primer for latecomers and a fix for insatiable martial arts lovers. If you’ve never seen a movie like this, it might satisfy your curiosity; if you can’t get enough of this kind of movie, nothing I say about it would keep you away.

“The Forbidden Kingdom” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). It has many action scenes, some of them fairly brutal.

The plot: Jason (Michael Angarano) is an American teenager living in south Boston. He's obsessed with kung fu movies and frequents a Chinese pawnshop owned by Hop (Jackie Chan), an old, graying man who tells Jason about a sacred staff that "must be returned to its rightful owner." That rightful owner is the kooky and rebellious Monkey King (Jet Li), who was turned to stone by the evil Jade Warlord (Collin Chou) hundreds of years ago in China.

One day, Jason is bullied by a Boston street gang into stealing from Hop's store. When the old man is shot, Jason runs off with the staff, which sends him back to ancient China. The actual time where he ends up is never made clear but lucky for Jason the people he needs to communicate with all speak English. He befriends Lu Yan (also Chan), a kung fu master who's sort of an homage to Chan's own Drunken Master character (Lu's immortality depends on his drinking plenty of wine). Jason and Lu are joined by Golden Sparrow (Yifei Lu), an orphaned female warrior seeking revenge against the warlord for killing her parents, and Silent Monk (also Li), who has his own allegiance to the Monkey King.

MOVIES THIS SESSION

There are whole lot of movie buck sitting around this whole planet...Waiting to see the just released movies or upcoming onces ...There r many platform around to talk and this one is among them...Those think they can judge or say anything which would make people to see the movie or not make them good talk they all are welcome at my BLOG...

THERE WERE FEW HOLLYWOOD AND BOLLYWOOD MOVIE RELEASED THIS SUMMER.....

FORBIDDEN KINGDOM

Director	Rob Minkoff
Producer	Casey Silver
Starring	Jet Li, Jackie Chan, Michael Angarano, Collin Chou, Crystal Liu Yi Fei, Li Bing Bing