Word: dead
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...still remember that sunny September day, the whizzing sound of German planes strafing defenseless refugees, exploding bombs, the stench of burning and dead horses at the roadside. I thought the heavens had fallen in on me. Relations between Lithuania and Poland were not very good, and we were held up at the border, adding to our sense of alarm and fear. We were convinced that we would return home soon, that a British-French offensive would enable the Polish army to go on fighting against the overwhelming forces of the enemy. Not for a moment did I think I would...
...pitch darkness, taking side streets to the freightyards. Early on the morning of Sept. 1, we crossed into Poland. We soon saw action. Just a few hundred yards from me, my older brother Heinrich fell. We barely had time to bury him and the other dead before we had to hurry on. The suffering had begun...
Well, they sure could have called it Weird. After all, the main characters in this bonkers biopic are two people John Belushi never met during his brief, explosive life: Bob Woodward, the actor's biographer, and John Belushi dead. You have to cherish the daredevil idiocy of a movie whose climax is a parody of Woodward's legendary deathbed chat with CIA director William Casey. The journalist visits the hotel room where Belushi took his fatal overdose and hallucinates an interview with the dying star. "Breathe for me, Woodward!" the samurai comic cries. And it's hard to hate...
...movies. So on one swerving narrative track, Woodward (J.T. Walsh), like the reporter in Citizen Kane, gets dirty dish from the star's friends. On the other, an angel of death (Ray Sharkey), a hipster version of the guardian angel in It's a Wonderful Life, escorts the dead Belushi (Michael Chiklis) to the scenes of his ebullient crimes...
...Evangelists proud, was a turgid read that had little feeling for its subject and found no broad meaning in it. At least adapter Earl Mac Rauch (The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai) knows that the only way to pin Belushi and Hollywood is to wax satiric and surrealistic. When the dead Belushi prowls his old haunts in a morgue sheet that looks like a toga out of the Animal House closet, the film almost has style to match its guts. So does Chiklis' boldly percussive performance. But Wired's take on Belushi is so lame and gross that it validates...