Going under the assumption that 88 Minutes might be bad, I felt Pacino - no stranger to really bad movies - would use his scene-chewing ability to make his screen time worth watching. It might have redeeming quality, some value, I thought. Sadly, this was not the case. Why anyone would consider making this flick is beyond my comprehension. Why Al chose to do this movie will haunt me to my grave. He might as well have starred in a Murder She Wrote anniversary special.

The premise: a college professor named Jack Gramm (Pacino) moonlights as an FBI forensic specialist. Gramm's questionable testimony has helped to convict a murderer that receives the death sentence. The move comes back to haunt Gramm on the day of the serial killer's execution via cryptic cell-phone death threats that give him, you guessed it, 88 minutes to live.

My first reaction leaving the theatre after this movie, besides ramming my head into the wall, was to consult my thesaurus for new ways to say horrible, terrible and awful (words I've been using a lot lately to describe movies). Wretched and abominable seem to work.

 
The only thing faithfully reproduced in this remake is the prom night setting. The predecessor-flick was pretty bad to begin with, but the remake makes it look like Citizen Kane. In the original, four students were stalked and victimized by a knife-wielding ski-mask wearing psycho because they were responsible for the accidental death of a child. This time around a non-masked stalker escapes from a mental institution to wreak havoc on all in his path because he has an unhealthy infatuation with Donna (Brittany Snow), an ex-student of his before he was put away.

Filmmaker Josh Tickell is aiming for "a shift in human consciousness," with his film, Fields of Fuel. Focused on biodiesel and biofuels as alternatives to reliance on big oil and soy production, the film asks us to choose more self-reliant, peaceful, and healthier lives.

You might think twice about devouring another McDonald's Quarter Pounder after watching Ian Cheney and Curt Ellis' eye-opening documentary, King Corn. The film won Best Documentary at the 2007 Bend Film festival and will screen again on April 22 at the Tower Theatre as part of the Indie Reels series. Co-producer Curt Ellis will be on hand for discussion.

 
Best friends Ian and Curt moved from Boston to Greene, Iowa after college to find out where their food really comes from. The film follows them as they plant an acre of corn in the heartland and attempt to navigate modern agribusiness. Remarkably, both Ian and Curt's great-grandfathers were from Greene, and the two also trace their family histories throughout the story. They assimilate into the community and learn how to drive tractors and drink Budweiser. On the way, we-along with the filmmakers-learn everything from what a grain elevator is, to the fact that corn is present in about 60% of the American diet.

Yep, The Ruins gets ruined, taking a huge turn for the worse-for the characters, not the audience. I actually let it bypass my "despise-o-meter" entirely.

It starts off in a formulaic manner: the four main vacationing characters (med student, geek-girl, slut, surfer-dude) are all white, yuppified and overtly nauseating, making you wish they could be killed within seconds. But oddly enough, the director (first-timer Carter Smith) doesn't waste a bunch of time forcing these people down your throat and had the foresight to add some nudity almost immediately.