Nicholas D’Agosto

This week, Fat Guy Kevin Carr makes big plans to publish a best-selling book that women across the nation will read in hoity-toity book clubs. Step one: Move to the deep south and get raised by an African American maid. While Kevin tries to figure out how to move past that step, he gets a job delivering pizzas and lives in constant fear he’ll be used in a bank heist. Then he cheats death by avoiding the Glee concert movie, but lives in even more constant fear that the flick will hunt him down and make him watch it.

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Five films into the franchise, the Final Destination series shows no indication of putting pause on its specialty brand of crafty blood-and-gore kills waged against the average Joes and Jills who find themselves infused with the vague psychic powers that could possibly stop all the bloodshed. This is, of course, not to say that the franchise isn’t worse for the wear, with character development all but sucked out of the film’s respective bottoms, leaving nothing but lifeless, water-logged bodies behind. The set-up of Final Destination 5 is the exact same set-up as the previous four Final Destination films – a single person has a vivid premonition of a horrific accident that kills a hefty number of people. The premonition is so strong (and is, as is always the case with FD films, presented as a real event until a classic snap-out-of-it, it-was-all-a-dream come-to by the character having the vision) that when events that mirror the vision start to play out, said vision-er does the only thing that truly makes sense – they run. And by running, and bringing others along with them on their desperate race to survive, they do actually survive. Until they start dying, because Death itself is damn ticked off that the body count of its clever little catastrophes was not as high as originally intended. This time around, the single person with the vision is Sam Lawton (Nicholas D’Agosto), whose premonition is that of a stunning bridge collapse while he and his coworkers (including his ex-girlfriend) […]

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Fired Up! Isn

Movies don’t get much more insipid than this brainless cheerleader comedy from Screen Gems and Maxim Magazine.

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published: 11.26.2014
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published: 11.26.2014
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published: 11.21.2014
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published: 11.21.2014
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