The Pop Ogre

DVD Review: MOON

2010-03-08T10:44:00.004-07:00

While the rest of y'all were watching the Oscar telecast, I was doing what real film-lovers do: watching an excellent movie. Moon is a low-budget (not that you'd know it from the meticulously rendered special effects) science-fiction movie starring a never-better Sam Rockwell that got a lot of buzz last year, but through various obstacles and time constraints, I was never able to see it on the big screen (and I wish I would have: every frame of this thing is beautiful).

I don't want to get too much into what it's about, since it's one of those movies you're better off knowing nothing about (there is no "twist", per se, just a gradually revealed situation that you're better off going into blind), just saying that if you're one of those people (like me) who bemoans the lack of thoughtful science-fiction in today's SyFy world, this is the movie for you.

Rockwell's performance is nothing short of a miracle, and it's only a matter of time before this guy starts racking up the awards for his tireless string of dead-solid perfect acting turns (somebody throw Rockwell a retard role so that he can get his Oscar, will ya?). He does something that only the best actors ever do: you can see his characters thinking, figuring things out, deciding how to react to things. It's the polar opposite of the Harrison Ford Method of Pointing and Shouting at Stuff, and while it will never make him a marquee star, he's that rare actor who improves a movie simply by being in it.

It's a sad little movie about lonliness, and there's not much in the way of high-concept story going on here, but it pays off huge dividends to smart, patient viewers. It may be slow and quiet, but it is never boring.

Acting: flawless. Cinematography: capture any frame and you have a picture suitable for framing. Direction: assured. Script: smart.

It's a nearly perfect movie. You can get it at Red Box if you're too lazy to go out of your way for it.

The Oscar Postmortem

2010-03-08T09:11:00.003-07:00

I did not watch the awards telecast this year. I haven't watched it in many years, because I decided a long time ago that I care too much about movies to pay too much attention to all of the political bullshit that comes along with the Academy Awards ceremony. The guys you expect to win usually win, the best picture virtually never goes to a deserving film, and the whole thing is a bizarre mess of make-up awards for people who got shafted for more deserving films, sentimental gestures, and the results of a lot of behind-the-scenes deal-making.

Avatar got shut out of anything but the technical awards: good. That gaudy hunk of shit didn't deserve anything more (not that, as I just mentioned above, "deserve" really has anything to do with it). I can't complain too much about The Hurt Locker getting best picture, even though I've seen it and didn't really like it very much. Inglourious Basterds blew the hell out of the other nominees in virtually every way that a movie can and should, but the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has never been a body given to awarding that sort of movie (you know, a fucking amazing one that completely kicks your ass and will be watched by film lovers for generations). Quentin Tarantino will have to content himself with the make-up award he gets for this slight in 15 years or so, when he mades a lesser work that the fogeys in the Academy aren't afraid of: his The Departed, in other words.

As far as the much-discussed inclusion of ten Best Picture nominees is concerned, I think everybody knows that was a purely financial decision, since it didn't effect the outcome of the ceremony at all. Leading up to the event, everybody was asking the same question: "The Hurt Locker or Avatar?" The other eight fucking movies nominated didn't even have a horse in this race as far as anybody was concerned. So, the ten nominees are a joke, and it's only ever going to come down to the usual choices: the blockbuster, the little movie, the prestige picture, and the one that actually has balls and will never win.

So blah blah blah, another pointless Oscars has come and gone. Hurrah for all of the people who won awards for their entire body of work rather than for anything they did this particular year (Jeff Bridges), and this has been way more words than I ever wanted to write on this fucking subject.

Done.

Pop Heresy: Guillermo del Toro Doesn't Do It for Me

2010-02-21T10:22:00.005-07:00

Confession: I have never loved a Guillermo del Toro movie. I have seen three of them: Blade II, Hellboy, and Pan's Labyrinth, which I think anybody would admit is a fair sampling of his output, and my reactions have ranged from flat dislike to shrugging dismissal to crushing disappointment.

As a director, he has a definite visual flair, and I respect and admire his dedication to old-school practical effects and makeup techniques. He undeniably is the best director working with fantasy properties today when it comes to pure technical know-how. His movies just look so pretty, and are filled with such love of craft, that I think many viewers are unable to really look at them critically.

Blade II was just...wow. To tell the truth, I hardly remember anything about this movie except being terribly bored by the entire thing. Harry Knowles posted an infamous review of this movie at Aint It Cool News that compared del Toro's directing style to cunnilingus, and if that's really the case, the ladies del Toro has gone down on have my sympathy, because they probably experienced a lot of enthusiastic lapping and showmanship that ultimately amounted to nothing. It's a dark, ugly, confusing movie, that amongst its many sins completely wastes Donnie Yen, undeniably one of the most exciting martial arts performers on the planet. This is probably going to offend somebody out there, but I prefer Blade: Trinity, which is at least bouyed by the charisma of Ryan Reynolds, Jessica Biel and Parker Motherfucking Posey. And if there's anything a Blade movie needs, it's charisma, since Wesley Snipes sure isn't bringing it to the game.

Hellboy is another example of some exciting production design and costume work ruined by a story that makes no sense at all. I've seen this movie about three times, each time trying really hard to like it, but I can't really defeat all of the overboiled nonsense on display with my pure love of Ron Perlman in possibly the greatest piece of all-body makeup ever. Again, pretty pictures and fantastic effects work are no replacement for good story. They never have been; they never will be (right, James Cameron?). I haven't seen the sequel, which many online movie types spunked all over, but by all appearances it's more of the same shiny rubbish. It's not even on my NetFlix list.

Then there's Pan's Labyrinth, which has been called a "masterpiece" so many times that del Toro should probably look into trademarking that word. Is it a fantasy movie? Is it a drama about Spanish fascism? Is it about a troubled child's imagination? Is any of it real? Does anybody even fucking care? Because I sure don't. This entire exercise (and don't be mistaken: it is a pure exercise, rather than a real movie) just left me cold and irritated. Once more the level of personal attention to detail, both in terms of the period and the design, is meticulous. Del Toro is a superficially exacting craftsman, pouring so much love and sweat into the look of his movies, while forgetting to shore it all up with a fucking concrete foundation of story and logic. Things happen in this movie, and others, for no more reason than because they would be cool, or would allow him to play with a new makeup effect, or would present a little production puzzle to solve.

Again, let me say it for the nth time, I have nothing but admiration for Guillermo del Toro's work ethic, for the handmade feel of his films, for his unabashed enthusiasm for his work. But I don't watch movies because I'm looking to find a new child's drawing to hang on the fridge. Movies don't endure because they've been given an "A" for effort.

Del Toro is making the film adaptation of The Hobbit, and I'm excited about it because it's The Hobbit, but I fear that the twin self-indulgent tendencies of del Toro and producer Peter Jackson are going to make a hyperbolic, bombastic mess of what is essentially a low-key children's adventure story. It's a very simple egg to crack: Bilgo goes there, and then he comes back again.

Don't fuck this one up, Guillermo.

Review: Smashburger

2010-02-17T13:16:00.003-07:00

You never know what's going to pop up around here. As I mentioned in my Pepsi Throwback review, food, especially of the fast kind, certainly counts as popular culture, so when I get the opportunity, I'll review that as well.

Smashburger is a new fast-food chain out of Colorado that probably doesn't exist in your state, but odds are they'll be there in a couple years. The name refers to the cooking process, wherein a ball of ground beef is "smashed" quickly at high heat onto the grill, resulting in a flavorful, homemade quality to the burgers.

I went there today, finally, after hearing about them a couple months ago. I ordered the Spicy Baja burger in a 1/3 pound weigh (they also have 1/2 pound burgers), a side of Smash Fries, and a Coke. The burger comes with the usual trimmings, and the Baja includes pepperjack cheese, guacamole, and jalepeno peppers. Smash fries are regular shoestring fires gussied up with rosemary and sea salt or something. I presume you are all familiar with Coca-Cola.

The burger was delicious. It was hot, a little messy, and full of real beef flavor. It was also genuinely spicy. I liked it a lot. The fries, however, were a let-down. They were just this pathetic little handful of shoestrongs in a basket with some spices on them. The rosemary and whatnot didn't really add much, there weren't enough fries to begin with, and shoestring fries frankly are always cut way too thin for my liking: there's too much crispy and not enough fluffy potato goodness. The Coca-Cola was cold, refreshing, and refillable.

Here's the part where I complain about the price. It was $10.12 (including tax) for a fucking fast-food meal. No amount of smashing and sprinkling with rosemary can justify paying ten bucks for a meal in a fast-food restaurant, unless the food is so fucking amazing that you literally ejaculate on your own face with gluttonous ecstasy. The service was very nice, and they brought your food to the table, but guess what: they do that at Carl's Jr., too, and they don't skimp on the fries, either. The lack of combo meals on the menu also exacerbated the problem, although the fries do cost less if you order them with a sandwich (you probably also get less of them, but I didn't investigate this suspicion). I could have gone to a real restaurant with a friend and gotten a big-ass burger, drink and a huge plate of fries for about $20 for the two of us. There is just no explicable reason for them to charge so much for their food.

All in all, I guess it was a satisfying burger meal, even though the fries sucked and I can't dodge the feeling that I just got ripped off. Final conclusion: there isn't anything at Smashburger that will make me choose it over Salt Lake's legendary Crown Burgers a second time. It's all about the pastrami.

Review: THE WOLFMAN

2010-02-13T09:56:00.005-07:00

Short version: The Wolfman is a goddamn note-perfect gothic werewolf movie.

Long version: despite the frequent rumors of production difficulties, director Joe Johnston knocks it out of the park with this dark, brooding, savage take on the classic Universal monster, The Wolf Man (yes, he used to have a space in his name).

Benicio Del Toro is properly depressed and downtrodden as Lawrence Talbot, Anthony Hopkins is playful and sinister as his father, and Hugo Weaving is his usual movie-stealing self as a fictionlized version of Ripper-chasing Inspector Abberline of Scotland Yard.

A dull spot in the acting troup could probably be said to be contributed by Emily Blunt, but her performance suffers more from the feeling that the majority of it is on the cutting-room floor, rather than from any fault of her acting.

It is thrilling. It is funny. The Wolfman attacks are savage and bloody, and more than earn that R rating (for gore and virtually nothing else). This is a real return for the classic Universal monsters, and it was made by people with real love for the characters and their legacy.

The dumbasses who contributed to the 29% this movie is tracking on Rotten Tomatoes are ignorant and uninformed, and probably wanted to hate this movie before it was even out of the gate. Don't listen to those assholes. Listen to this one.

The Wolfman is the real deal.

The Greatest Singles of My Life #1-2

2010-02-06T11:54:00.007-07:00

Another list! The plan is to have several of these going at once, so that I always have something to update on those days I'm feeling listless and uninspired: you know, most days.

This is a list of what I consider the greatest music singles to be released during my lifetime, or at least during the time that I was aware of current music. This list, as all of my ongoing lists, is NOT in any particular order, so don't try to read anything into the numbers. All right, let's go.

1. "Seven Nation Army," The White Stripes

Regardless of your feelings re: Jack White, and regardless of whether you think he's overrated, pretentious, or plays guitar like an orangutan (some people actually think this stuff), this track is an undeniable masterpiece. Built around a simple but powerful riff, this marries together all the elements that make The White Stripes such a unique musical personality: spare instrumentation, Cro-Magnon drums, Jack's amazing voice, and the result is their biggest hit and quite possibly the song that will render them immortal. It's just that good. If you hate this song, you're an asshole.

Favorite Lyric: "And the stains coming from my blood/Tell me go back home."

Favorite Musical Bit: When the ever-present riff switches into searing guitar wails toward the end.

Video: Here.

2. "Mama Said Knock You Out," LL Cool J
The title song from LL Cool J's "comeback album" (don't believe him when he says it's not a comeback), this song was ever-present during it's time on the charts, and rightfully so. On an album full of immaculate jams, this was the one destined to worm its way into everybody's ear. And worm it did. The beat is undeniable, the rhymes are vicious, and this is such a raw statement of intent to kick your fucking ass, that it became even more of a disappointment when LL immediately pissed away all of the good will this album engendered with his subsequent shitty ones. Oh, well. Nobody's ever always as good as their greatest single, right? When LL performed this on Unplugged with an all acoustic backing band, I thought it was the start of a bold new direction for both him and hip-hop. Turns out that The Roots picked up on that whole live instrumentation thing and left LL and his contemporaries in the fucking dust. But OH! What a fucking song.

Favorite Lyric: "I'm going insane/Starring a hurricane/Releasing pain/Letting you know, you can't gain or maintain/Unless it's in my name."

Favorite Musical Bit: The old-school drum loop.

Video: Here.

DVD Review: STUCK

2010-01-23T14:12:00.005-07:00

First of all, yes, I know this movie is four years old. I totally meant to see it when it came out, because it sounded intriguing, and the real-life case it was based upon has always fascinated me as an example of the selfishness and casual cruelty that humanity is capable of. But what can I say? I never got around to it. Life intervened. It wasn't playing anywhere near me. Blah, blah, blah...

Good thing that my lady put it on the NetFlix queue, then, huh? Because I'd honestly forgotten all about it.

This movie is basically just a fun, gory good time.

For those unfamiliar with its story, or with the real-life case that inspired it, it boils down to this: a party girl is driving home drunk one night and hits a homeless man due to her own negligence. She drives straight home and parks in her garage, and rather than help the man, leaves him there to die while she goes on about her life. That's the basic story, but it gets a lot more fun from there. Among other delights, this movie features one of the best deaths by writing implement I've ever seen. Too late for this list here, unfortunately, but if I ever do another one, it's in.

The performances of the two leads are fantastic. Stephen Rea makes you feel every second of this man's pre-crash degradation and post-crash agony. It's a bravura performance, and who thought that a sleazy little exploitation flick is what Stephen Rea needed to rescue him from the acting doldrums in which he'd been drowning? As for Mena Suvari, an actress who I've frankly never liked, she is trashy and selfish and violent to exactly, but no more than, the degree needed. It's a truly fine and unlikeable performance by an actress I've discounted for a long time. Perverts will also appreciate her extended topless sex scene.

This is just a short, mean little number that I can't recommend highly enough. If you're a fan of the outre Lovecraftian films of director Stuart Gordon, give this more down-to-earth but no less bloody outing a try.

Top Five: TV Deaths that Hit Where It Counts

2010-01-18T11:13:00.012-07:00

5. Special Agent Charlie Francis (Kirk Aceveda)--Fringe
Charlie Francis was Special Agent Olivia Dunham's unfailingly loyal partner and friend throughout Fringe's first season. He had several close brushes with death during that time, and I started to think that he was the "Wedge Antilles" of the show, always in peril but inevitably coming out on top.

I thought that right up until Charlie was killed by a shapeshifting douchebag from an alternate reality, who then added further insult to injury by stealing Charlie's identity and trying to get Dunham alone so that he could kill her too. Olivia eventually shot and killed the shapeshifter, and the deception was uncovered, but she had to deal with some misplaced guilt for killing a man who looked just like her friend (becuase this show dumps grief on Dunham like she's a member of the Mulder family).

4. Lt. Colonel Henry Blake (McLean Stephenson)--M*A*S*H
For the first seasons of the long-running show (the only war during which everybody's hair turned gray), Henry Blake was the commanding officer of the M*A*S*H 4077th. He was an affable though not entirely competent officer, whose skills were best applied to the operating room rather than to matters of logistics or authority. The lovable rogues he commanded were constantly pulling pranks on him, and he took it all in mostly good humor. Despite the occasional dramatic moment, he was nearly entirely a figure of fun, which is why it totally sucked when...

Blake received his orders to fly back stateside, and the guys he commanded gave him a nice going away party. This beloved character was finally getting what everybody in the unit wanted most of all: to fly home to his wife and get out of this shit. He flew off on a helicopter, and everybody was both sad and happy for him. Until, that is, they received word that the helicopter had crashed, killing everybody aboard.

So much for the goofy, lovable Colonel Henry Blake.

What really made the death sting was the eventual revelation that Blake was written off the show (permanently) because McLean Stephenson was trying to get more money out of the producers, who responded by not only firing him, but ensuring he'd never be able to even do a guest appearance in future. Classy, guys.

3. Melissa Scully (Melinda McGraw)--The X-Files
Melissa was the sister of Special Agent Dana Scully (starting to get the idea that being an FBI agent isn't very healthy for the people you care about?), and there was a little tension between them, brought on by her New Age flightiness butting up against Dana's belief in science and discipline. Still, it was always fun when she showed up, and not just because she was kinda hot (this was before Scully transformed into the sexiest woman in the FBI).

She was never a regular, just a sister who showed up every now and then, so what's the worst that could happen to her? Well, I don't know, maybe she could enter Dana's apartment when she wasn't home and get mistakenly shot by double-agent (triple? quintuple?) scumbag Alex Krycek.

Eventually, Mulder and Scully lost every member of their immediate families over the course of the show (including Mulder's long-lost sister: don't get me started on that), but this is the one that hurt the most, since Melissa was in essence an innocent who had no part in all of this conspiracy rubbish.

2. Dolores Landingham (Kathryn Joosten)--The West Wing
Every great man needs a strong woman behind him, the saying goes, and President Josiah Bartlet had two: his wife, and the simple, unassuming personal assitant who had been with him since his college days, Dolores Landingham.

The relationship between Bartlet and Landingham was one of the delights of the show's first season. She was loyal and always attentive to his needs, but wasn't afraid to tell him off when he was being a little shit. There was obviously a great love and affection between them, and Joosten's performance as the character was basically flawless.

So what happened? Well, this lovely little cantankerous woman was killed by a drunk driver, off camera, in the show's second season, soon after buying her first ever car. The unjustness of this event prompted one of Martin Sheen's greatest acting moments of the show, where he rages at God in a cathedral with epic anguish, but I don't think that even that moment was worth this woman's death. It was a truly tragic, meaningless death that still upsets me if I think about it too much.

1. Tara Maclay (Amber Benson)--Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Could anything else take the number-one position but the most hurtful character death in the history of television?

Tara, in case you all forgot, was the woman Willow Rosenberg met at college, who introduced her to a greater world of both witchcraft and lesbianism. The love between these two was palpable, and for all of the Angel/Buffy talk, this was truly the epic love story of Buffy's seven seasons.

So, what happened, because Joss Whedon is a goddamn motherfucker, is that Willow and Tara had a falling out prompted by Willow's increasingly dangerous addiction to magic. After showing Willow suffering in Tara's absence for several episodes, they eventually got back together after Willow proved that she had given the magic up. After one amazing night together...

Tara is shot by titanic asshole Warren Mears, who was hoping to kill Buffy. Tara's blood spatters Willow's face, and she dies nearly instantly, sending Willow into a world-threatening orgy of rage-fueled violence, which none of us watching can really blame her for. Luckily, Xander Harris talks her down with a story about crayons.

Willow eventually hooks up with a super-hot piece of near-jailbait in season 7, but it's not the same, because nobody will ever replace Tara. Fuck you, Joss.

DVD Review: THE INVENTION OF LYING

2010-01-17T16:53:00.003-07:00

I saw this movie a couple weeks ago, but I'm just writing about it now, the reason being my conflicted feelings about it. On the one hand, I could watch Ricky Gervais all day, and I think the religious satire is sharp and spot-on (although allegedly not as sharp as in the original script). On the other hand, I found the shoehorning of a romantic comedy plot rather desperate, and I didn't think any of the movie's many ideas came to fruition.

But of all my problems with the film, here's the one that was the most responsible for my ultimate thumbs down: the premise fundamentally does not work.

In case you're unfamiliar with the story, the premise is thus: there is an alternate world where nobody ever lies, and Ricky Gervais tells the first lie in this world, setting off a chain of events that don't really, actually go anywhere or change much of anything (but that's a complaint for maybe later in this review). For the first act of the movie, you witness overly-honest people call Ricky Gervais fat and pugnosed, tell him stories about how they want to kill themselves, share their disdain or in some ways outright hatred for him, and generally treat him like complete dogshit.

Here's my problem: just because nobody can lie, it doesn't mean that tact doesn't exist. In fact, in such a world as we see in this movie, tact would be even more crucially important than it is in our own world. With no tact, with this bizarre compulsive need to overshare that is possessed by everbody in this film's universe, there would be wars raging constantly; murders in the street; constant brawls. Society would not be able to function in any recognizable way. But still, this movie shows us people being outright dicks to each other on a regular basis, and there are never any repercussions. Beyond that, how would it be possible to be a little bit different from everybody else in this world? Closeted homosexual? Not any more. Like to wear frilly panties? Now everybody knows. Are you a pervert? Bad news for you, because whenever you meet a woman, you're going to blurt, apropos of nothing, "I'd like to chain you to the toilet and sodomize you all night long." Just because you're being honest, it doesn't mean you have to reveal everything going on in your mind.

Now, the one thing this movie gets right is that everybody in this universe seems completely miserable, all the time. Unfortunately, Gervais's discovery of lying doesn't start a revolution that makes everybody's lives better. It does at first, as he learns to tell people what they want to hear, but soon he accidentally starts religion, and people go back to being miserable again. Nobody else learns to lie, which I think is what a smarter movie would have done. What's the point of "inventing" something if nobody else catches on?

At the end of the film, nothing has changed. Gervais has won the girl, but the world is virtually the same as when we came in. This terrible, terrible world, that they continue living in, and which will continue to treat them like shit. A glimmer of hope is that Gervais's son is shown to possess the skill to lie, but that's just a bullshit cheat out of actually having to craft a resolution to all of the issues this film raises.

Apart from that, the movie also contains too many cameos and about three too many montages.

Conclusion: an ill-thought-out premise provides a few laughs, but they are hampered by a needless romantic comedy plot and by the movie's own unwillingness to carry its themes through to conclusion.

TV Badasses #3-4

2010-01-17T09:42:00.008-07:00

3. Captain James T. Kirk (William Shatner)--Star Trek
Who He Is: Captain of the USS Enterprise, fighter, lover, diplomat, scholar, and all-around most kick-ass male in the galaxy.

Why He's a Badass: He can short-circuit robots and omnipotent computers just by giving a rousing speech, woman are constantly coming on to him (far more than he actually beds, in fact), he appears to have his own patented form of martial arts (Kirk-fu), he never gives up no matter how hopeless the situation looks, oh, and:
He once clubbed a guy with what appears to be a plaster cast of his own penis.

Badass Moment: How to pick just one? Fuck it, we'll just go with the Corbomite Maneuver. Look it up.

How Does He Go Out? He doesn't in the show, and we're not going to get into any fatal wrestling matches with Malcolm McDowell in this post.

Badass Dialog: "This is the Captain of the Enterprise. Our respect for other life forms requires that we give you this... warning. One critical item of information that has never been incorporated into the memory banks of any Earth ship. Since the early years of space exploration, Earth vessels have had incorporated into them a substance known as...corbomite. It is a material and a device which prevents attack on us. If any destructive energy touches our vessel, a reverse reaction of equal strength is created, destroying the attacker. It may interest you to know that since the initial use of corbomite more than two of our centuries ago, no attacking vessel has survived the attempt. Death has... little meaning to us. If it has none to you then attack us now. We grow annoyed at your foolishness."

4. President Josiah Bartlet (Martin Sheen)--The West Wing
Who He Is: Controversial two-term President of the United States.

Why He's a Badass: His principles are inflexible. He can't stand intolerance in any form. He survived an assassination attempt. He was originally intended to be a recurring character on the show, and almost immediately took over the entire thing.

Badass Moment: There are several tense faceoffs with diplomats, religious leaders, and the press, but my favorite moment is this deeply religious man's smackdown on God after his beloved personal secretary was killed in a car crash.

How Does He Go Out? His term ends and he passes the torch to Jimmy Smits (possibly for a new West Wing show that never happened).

Badass Dialoge: "You're a son of a bitch, you know that? She bought her first new car and you hit her with a drunk driver. What? Was that supposed to be funny? 'You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God,' says Graham Greene. I don't know whose ass he was kissing there, 'cause I think you're just vindictive."

DVD Review: THE COTTAGE

2010-01-16T14:23:00.006-07:00

The Cottage is a thriller/horror/comedy from the UK about two brothers (Andy Serkis and Reece Shearsmith) whose poorly-conceived quickie kidnapping scam is interrupted by a run-in with a stereotypical, deformed country psychopath.

It was recommended by a friend, and while it has a couple laughs (provided mostly by Serkis) and some decent gore shots, it fails at nearly all of its ambitions. The comedy is undercut by an intrusive, "wacky" score and the overly broad, UK sitcom acting stylings of Shearsmith, the horror is undercut by terrible makeup (an obvious mask on the killer and a truly terrible "bald spot" shaved into Shearsmith's scalp) and a thinly-conceived villain, and even the "thriller" aspect that makes up the first act is cliched and lacks suspense.

So what's good about it? Andy Serkis. This guy has such a wide acting range, it's insane. He can do so much more than play Gollum and bounce around in a monkey suit. I don't know why he's not one of the most in-demand character actors in Hollywood, but the only genuine moments in this movie are provided entirely by his character.

So, it's uncreative, the acting is all over the place (save for Serkis), and I didn't even find the villain that intriguing. What did I like (save for Serkis)?

This shot:

Hats off to you, makers of The Cottage! But I cannot recommend this movie, even with a gratuitous shot of a large-breasted blonde on the toilet.

Actresses We Love to See Naked: Lena Olin

2010-01-15T13:09:00.004-07:00

If you have ever seen a movie featuring Lena Olin, odds are you've seen her breasts, because not only is she an awesome actress and a (now MILF-y) serious piece of ass, she seems to have virtually no issues with on-screen nudity.

I can't remember when I first because aware of her, but I was already well aware of her beauty before I saw her in Romeo Is Bleeding (pic to the left), a post-Tarantino crime romp featuring Gary Oldman and plenty of sexy-psycho femme fatale action from Ms. Olin. This is the movie when I developed my Olin Crush, which didn't last very long (because she doesn't appear in many movies), but was super intense during that period.

It was reactivated by her appearance in The Ninth Gate, Roman Polanski's wacky underrated thriller/comedy about Satanist book collectors. Again she played up the hot vilainness thing, since it's what she does best (how was this woman never in a Bond movie?), and her character is a consistent delight.

She does small movies and television now (most people probably know her best from her recurring role on Alias), but if you have a chance, you should check her out, even in the movies where she doesn't take her clothes off.

Lena Olin's IMDB page.
Her Mr. Skin page.

Review: THE IMAGINARIUM OF DOCTOR PARNASSUS

2010-01-14T22:17:00.008-07:00

I finally saw this film today. For some reason, I was of the opinion that it came out last year. Maybe it was supposed to originally? I don't know, but it's playing first-run cineplexes at the moment (though the dinkiest, afterthoughtiest little screens in those cineplexes), so me and the lady went to check it out, and I'm glad I did.

Despite rumblings that this was a troubled film (as all of Terry Gilliam's movies are in some way) even apart from the shocking death of Heath Ledger, I found this latest installment in Gilliam's ongoing "triumph of the imagination" series to be delightful and weird from its opening to its end.

It's not a movie you can really approach looking for realism or logic. It's a fable, as Gilliam's greatest movies all are, and you have to simply accept certain storytelling conventions when you're watching a fable: people will make rash decisions, and the story will take odd turns dictated by nothing more than the whimsical logic of the fable. If you've seen any of Gilliam's great movies (Time Bandits, Brazil, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen), then you understand this. If you claim to be a fan of his work, you should expect it.

A word on the CGI effects of the Imaginarium itself: I've heard criticism that they look fake, to which I say: of course they fucking do. If Gilliam had made this movie 20 years ago, the Imaginarium scenes would all be realized with plywood standups and marionettes. I wouldn't expect his movies to have lost their hand-crafted, playhouse look just because time and budget have forced his hand on the CGI issue.

Anyway, I enjoyed the film. It's light and playful, and though it has its moments of darkness, they never overshadow the whole. Ledger's final performance is not as bravura as his turn as the Joker, but it's nice to see him one last time, and the special appearances of Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell as otherwordly versions of his character serve as genuinely heartfelt tributes to his lost talent.

If you have any fondness at all for Gilliam's thematic obsessions and puppet-theater asthetics, you should see this before it disappears in a whisp of magician's smoke.

An Open Letter to Amy Adams

2010-01-04T13:29:00.003-07:00

Dear Amy Adams,

I have been a low-level fan of yours since your appearance in Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. You are possibly the most reliably adorable presence in movies today. You radiate integrity and an old-school sexiness that never looks put on or desperate. Everything about you communicates sincerity and intelligence.

Which leads me to wonder why you seem comfortable following Meg Ryan's career path, which will lead nowhere but obscurity when your cuteness stars "maturing". You can't play on adorability forever, and I know that you have serious acting chops that you're choosing not to flex by taking roles in chick-flick after chick-flick.

Your latest, Leap Year, looks to be nothing more than yawn-inducing formula. Your character is cursed with the usual slapstick clumsiness, and it appears that you fall for Matthew Goode over the course of a long drive because he has a sexy accent. I have no doubt that this movie will play to your "base", but at what cost to your long-term career? Sandra Bullock has been down this same road, and when was the last time you saw her in anything that anybody gave a shit about? (Yes, I know her latest movie is making money, but does anybody really care about it? I know I don't.)

You're a solid actress. You've got the killer combo of looks and talent. Please stop wasting it on this easy garbage. A look at your IMDB page shows that you've made four trifles in a row since your appearance in Doubt. That's way too many. I hope some of your upcoming films will change the direction your career is taking, Ms. Adams, or else in a few years I won't be able to consider myself a fan of your work, because it would be too embarrassing to admit.

Don't make me give up on you.

Sincerely,

Some weirdo on the Internet.

I Enjoyed SHERLOCK HOLMES Immensely, but I Am Too Exhausted to Write a Review of It Right Now

2009-12-31T19:41:00.002-07:00

The End

TV Badasses #1-2

2009-12-17T17:43:00.007-07:00

Back in my Vox blogging days, I did a list of movie badasses, which inspired my current Dangerous Bitches list (it's still alive, just be patient). Anyway, I started feeling guilty for leaving off the TV badasses, which are even more special because they are rarer, I think.

Anyway, here we go with the first couple. As usual, these are NOT in order of preference, just in the order in which I think of them. Updates will be sporadic.

Enjoy.

1. John Winchester (Jeffrey Dean Morgan)--Supernatural
Who He Is: A hunter of the supernatural who has raised his two sons Sam and Dean in the family business.

Why He's a Badass: He is uncompromising in his methods, dedicated to revenge, but still has a heart so goddamn big it'll break yours.

Badass Moment: He has many in his brief screentime, but screaming for Sam to kill him while the demon he's been hunting for years is briefly trapped in his body sort of takes the cake.

How Does He Go Out? Selling his soul to that same hated demon so that he can save his son Dean's life. Remember that thing I said about his big heart? Yeah.

Badass Dialog:
John Winchester: I never used the gun, how would I know it wouldn't work?
Meg: Oh, I am so not in the mood for this. I've just been shot!
John Winchester: Well, then I guess you're lucky the gun wasn't real.

2. Number Six (Patrick McGoohan)--The Prisoner
Who He Is: An ex-government agent who resigned without explanation, and if you've only seen the recent, crappy A&E remake, you can be forgiven for thinking he's a pussy. Because trust me, he isn't.

Why He's a Badass: The greatest and most devious minds available try to break his spirit, wear him down, and get him to talk. But he never does. Never. He even drives one of his minders crazy rather than give them an inch.

Badass Moment: It's hard to choose one, as each of the series' 17 episodes contains at least one moment where you have to marvel at this man's ingenuity and hardness. Maybe the episode where he manipulates his own dreams to make it seem as if the current Number Two is a traitor? Sure, we'll go with that.

How Does He Go Out? The operators of The Village realize they will never break his spirit, so they simply let him go. He wins, utterly.

Badass Dialog: "I will not make any deals with you. I've resigned. I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. My life is my own."

STATUS: Ogre Is Still Alive

2009-12-08T03:58:00.006-07:00

Current schedules are making it difficult for me to get out and see movies, I haven't gotten any new music since my last music post, and we canceled our satellite service so I'm not watching that much tv, all of which makes for a less-than stellar pop-oriented blog. I know there are some people out there who like reading my posts, and I sincerely apologize for the lack of activity here. It might all get back up to speed post-holidays.

In the meantime, here are a couple things I have seen and have quick opinions about:

Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant-- This is not a very good movie. We gave the kid the option of seeing this or Zombieland (still unseen) for his birthday, and he chose this, so whatcha gonna do? It has some interesting ideas, and an intriguing though not fully-formed performance by John C. Reilly, but every time it threatens to get good, it's hamstrung by bafflingly impatient editing and the central performances of two preternaturally uncharismatic teenaged weiners. In the end, it's not a film so much as a rehearsal for a film, a brainstorming session that somebody turned the lens on so that we could all watch things getting thrown at the wall. It doesn't even have a real conclusion, just a segue to set up part two, which it's unlikely we'll see (I wish folks would learn to make complete movies rather than mini-series installments when they tackle these projects).

The Sons of Anarchy Finale-- One of my favorite tv shows betrayed me with one of the most rushed and cobbled-together feeling season finales in a long time. Nothing seems earned, little feels organically developed, and the whole thing just reeked of late-night flop-sweat and too much coffee in the writers' room. It was grossly unsatisfying. Once again we have this problem: each season needs to be a complete whole, not just a springboard for the next one. Themes and events can carry over, certainly, but when you watch all season long waiting for some closure and are not only denied that but fed a bunch of last-minute, cheated cliffhangers, it makes you feel like a sucker for investing hours of your life in this show.

Aaaaaand...that's about it.

MUSIC-SPLOSION

2009-11-16T10:03:00.008-07:00

Somebody out there requested more music reviews, right?

Okay.

Them Crooked Vultures--Them Crooked Vultures

This is a "supergroup" comprised of Josh Homme, Dave Grohl, and John Paul Jones. Homme is, of course, the mastermind behind Queens of the Stone Age, Dave Grohl is Dave Grohl, and if you don't know who John Paul Jones is, I don't know why you're still reading this paragraph.

This is the first album from these guys. Who knows if there will ever be a second one? If the presence of Jones on bass gets you excited for some heavy Zeppellin-style rockage, tune your expectations down. This is a good set, but it's essentially a new Queens of the Stone Age album. There's nothing wrong with that, but if you expect some new, exciting animal here, prepare for disappointment. There are good songs, and there are passable ones, but the feeling that persists through the entire disc is a lack of a convincing argument for this group's existence.

It's good, but your music collection won't especially feel the loss if you don't pick it up (unless you're a Josh Homme or Dave Grohl completist).

Primary Colours--The Horrors

The Horrors' debut album, Strange House, was one of my favorite discs of 2007. It was a dark and weird little masterpiece, equal parts goth and punk, with a weird little surf-rock thread in there to hold the whole thing together.

Their eagerly-awaited follow up seems almost intentionally off-putting and weird, as if they're ashamed of the relentless catchiness of the first disc. Even the most conventionally pop-structured songs on here seem to have some weird little shriek laid into the mix to keep the listener confused. I've only listened to it a couple times since picking it up, and it just hasn't grabbed me as immediately as Strange House. It's a strange little animal that I'm really not certain about my feelings toward.

I might need some more time to think about this one. It's not an automatic recommend, even for fans of the sublime first album.

Prior to the Fire--Priestess

My apologies for the less-than-enthusiastic vibe of the first two reviews. Luckily, Priestess has arrived to save the day. Their first album, Hello Master, was one of the hard-rock surprises of 2006, stuffed with riff-heavy rock that practically reeked of the 70's, but not in that hippie way that Wolfmother trades in. Still, as good as Hello Master was, there was a trace of untapped potential in there, as if they were capable of rocking so much harder than they were showing us.

Thus, we have Prior to the Fire, an aggressive "fuck you" to the sophomore curse. From the first track to the last, this band cares about only one thing: rocking your face off. I'm listening to this album right now, immediately after already listening to it, and that might be the best recommendation I can give.

If you want something to boom out the windows of your vintage Camaro while trolling for high-school pussy, this is the album for you, McConaughey wannabes.

Review: Wolfmother--COSMIC EGG

2009-11-02T14:19:00.005-07:00

Well, Wolfmother, the Australian retro-rockers, finally put out a new album, although this is really a new band, since two of the original trio are no longer with the band. So, this is really Wolfmother 2.0, I guess, with the sole remaining founding member being the vocalist.

As a result of this line-up change, it naturally feels a little different from the first album. There is still plenty of 70's era rockadelica on here, with the accompanying soaring Robert Plant-esque vocals, but it's all just a little off.

Luckily, it's all still pretty good.

I have the 16-track "deluxe edition" of the album (by the way, music labels: FUCK YOU for this idiotic shit), and it's all decent enough rock, perhaps a bit more mainstream than the first album, but it's got all the chugging riffs and retarded lyrics you could ever require from this stuff.

If I sound less than super-enthusiastic about the album, it's only because it sounds "good enough", but never really transcends the gimmicky trappings of its retro-rock genre to deliver instant classic tunes like "Woman" off the first album. Regardless, it'll probably grow on me with repeated listenings, as the similarly-troubled second album from The Darkness certainly did.

As usual, you probably know if you're going to like this thing already, so go acquire it if some Guitar Hero-ready pseudo-70's rock riffage is the tonic you require.

The Penis Mightier: Five Writing Implements Used as Weapons

2009-10-25T12:47:00.010-06:00

1. The Joker's "Pencil Trick"--The Dark Knight
Implement: Pencil (eraser end first).

The Victim: A nameless thug.

The Scene: The Joker (Heath Ledger) is spelling out his plan to the Gotham City gangsters-that-be. He convinces them to listen by showing off his "pencil trick", in which he makes one disappear by slamming a man's eye socket into it. This occurs in a PG-13 rated movie, which makes it even more awesome.

Pain: Little. The kill is lightning-fast.

Creativity: Maximum. The Joker knows how to work a room.

2. Pesci Literally Signs a Man's Death Warrant--Casino
Implement: Pen.

The Victim: Some douchebag who mouthed off to the wrong guy.

The Scene: Years ago, back home, Sam "Ace" Rothstein (Robert DeNiro) and Nicky Santoro (Joe Pesci) are having a pleasant drink at the bar of a swanky club. DeNiro notices that the unnamed douchebag/future ersatz pen holder has left his pen out where it could get damaged or stolen, so he tries to hand it back to the guy, who proceeds to tell him to stick the pen up his ass. Before anybody can react, Pesci grabs the pen and stabs the guy in the neck with it multiple times. To add insult to injury, when the man is on the ground whimpering in pain and shock (and bleeding to death), Pesci mocks him for being a "little girl".

Pain: High. This looks nearly as painful as it must have felt. Who wouldn't be turned into a little girl by this assault?

Creativity: Low. Santoro has balls, but it doesn't take a creative genius to viciously pen a guy in the neck.

3. John Cusack Ruins His High-School Reunion--Grosse Pointe Blank
Implement: Promotional pen.

The Victim: Felix La PuBelle, assassin, afficionado of pornography, and asshole.

The Scene: While attending his high-school reunion, professional hitman Martin Blank (John Cusack) takes a break to go visit his old locker, where he finds an old joint and an assassin waiting for him. After a brief kickboxing battle, Blank breaks a grapple by taking the pen a sleazy lawyer had given him earlier, flicking the cap off and jamming it into La PuBelle's neck, killing him bloodily. Shortly after, his date comes looking for him and is quite put out.

Pain: Medium to High. It lacks the viciousness of Pesci's pen-shanking, but I can't imagine that it feels particularly great.

Creativity: Medium. Pen-stabbing is not the most stylish way to kill a man, but it was a clever and timely improvisation.

4. Tom Savini's Wood Is Lethal--From Dusk Till Dawn
Implement: Pencil.

The Victim: A nameless vampire.

The Scene: After slaughtering dozens of vampires at a sleazy Mexican biker bar (after the vamps slaughtered dozens of customers), one of them is still not dead, and comes at Frost (Fred Williamson). The Vietnam War vet pulls a kung-fu move and rips the creature's black, pulsating heart out. Unfortunately, it keeps beating. Sex Machine (Tom Savini), thinking fast, takes a pencil from a waitress's serving platter and stabs the wood into the organ, killing the vamp for good.

Pain: Do vampires even feel pain as we understand it? Unknown. Still, the death is quick.

Creativity: High. Everybody else was freaking out, but Savini had the presence of mind to take care of business. Bravo.

5. If There Is Something Phallic at Hand, Bond Will Kill You with It--Never Say Never Again
Implement: Q-Branch standard issue explosive projectile pen.

The Victim: Fatima Blush, sadistic, laughing femme fatale.

The Scene: James Bond (Sean Connery) is in a tight spot. His psychotic villainess lover has got him dead to rights, and if that isn't bad enough, she wants him to sign a statement to the fact that her pussy is the greatest he'd ever spelunked or she'll blow his balls off. Wow, what a ridiculously appropriate time to use that explosive pen that Q gave him. Bond shoots Fatima, whose response is simply to laugh at him, until the projectile starts flaring like a firework and blows her to smithereens, including, unfortunately, that premium vagina.

Pain: Low, apparently. She finds the whole thing hilarious before exploding.

Creativity: Low. Fatima gave Bond this one on a silver platter, practically drawing a connect-the-dots picture for him.

I Can't Believe I'm This Excited for an A-Team Movie

2009-10-23T17:18:00.002-06:00

That is the goddamn A-Team right there, gentlemen! I'm most impressed by Liam Neeson, who has transformed into George Peppard through sheer force of awesome. I never thought I would say this, but I can't wait for the A-Team movie.

(Click the photo for the big version.)

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE Review

2009-10-21T10:30:00.002-06:00

It finally happened! After weeks of seeing interesting movies come and go in theaters without having the time or the funds to go see them, I finally managed to get away to the movies. Because there was no way in hell I was going to miss this one.

We saw it on a real IMAX screen at a mammoth yuppie megaplex that was surrounded by Joe's Crab Shacks and Dave and Buster's-type places, right in the middle of upper-middle-class mallville, but none of that matters, because from the moment the title card hit, I knew I was going to love this movie. And love it I did. Unabashedly and with tears in my eyes. It is one of the most beautiful movies about childhood I've ever seen, and while it's rated PG, it never once dumbs down the emotional story for children, and never once takes the easy way of crass humor and fart jokes. It's a big, rough-and-tumble love letter to childhood pain and imagination.

Judging by my girlfriend's son's response to the movie ("Eh...it was all right."), it speaks more to folks who can take an honest look back at their youth, rather than to kids actually experiencing that youth, so in that respect, it's not really a kids' film. There's plenty here for a smart, aware young person to enjoy, but the sadness that pervades the film is of the sort that's really going to sock 30-somethings in the gut while possibly confusing or boring their kids.

While that's too bad, this isn't one of those reviews that's going to fault a movie for not bending over backwards to keep Ritalin-addled squirmers entertained (as almost every negative review has). The movie isn't for them. If they like it, fine. But make no mistake: this is a movie for grown-ups. It's rated PG because it doesn't have anything offensive in it, not because it was tailor-made for your little snot-noses, and if you approach it from that perspective, there is a wealth of wonder and beauty to be found in here.

Max Records is a true find as the wild-child Max, and the vocal performers deliver across-the-board wonderful performances that will make you want to phone the Academy and demand once and for all a Goddamn vocal performance Oscar. It's ridiculous that this rare skill isn't recognized.

This is a movie that bears the evidence of its loving hand-made-ness about it from beginning to end, and if Spike Jonze never made another movie, it would stand as his masterpiece.

If you don't see it on the big screen while you can, you're robbing yourself of one of 2009's great cinema experiences.

THE EXPENDABLES Trailer will Kick Your Ass For Real

2009-10-13T18:00:00.005-06:00

Here's a long trailer for what Sylvester Stallone's been working on: BOOM.

For anybody harboring any nostalgia for the dumb action heyday of the 80's, this looks like the real deal. Explosions, kung-fu, machine guns, and guys delivering one-liners while killing baddies in Latin America. Sign me the hell up, Sly. It seems this man can do no wrong in his sixth decade.

UPDATE: The thing was pulled literally two minutes after I saw it. I guess we'll all just wait for an official on-line release. Sorry, guys. (It was awesome.)

UPDATE II: Here's a new place to see this kick-ass preview.

The Funnies Faultfinder

2009-10-13T10:52:00.004-06:00

I don't talk about newspaper comics much (or at all, actually) on here, because we already have the fine Comics Curmudgeon to take care of that, and I wouldn't want to step on his toes. However, when I have occasion to read the comics, there is one that, time and time again, perplexes me by its mere presence, and that is the comic known as Brevity.

I know that there has been a single-panel hole in the comics page since Gary Larson retired, and many comics have come along to fill that space (such as Close to Home, which is ugly and rarely funny, but a subject for another time), but that doesn't mean that just anybody who can fit a "joke" into a rectangular panel is the heir to Far Side legacy.

Witness today's comic, which I am reproducing below for the purpose of review and discussion, so please nobody sue me:

This is the comic which is running in papers which carry Brevity today. This is the comic that middle America read this morning with their cups of coffee and their doughnuts.

I ask you:

What the fuck is happening in this comic?

I get that there's a snake, and there's a ladder, and I assume that there is a "Snakes and Ladders" reference going on here, but I honestly don't know how. The snake crawls up the ladder, than slides down it, somehow, going, "Weeeeee!!" Really? That's your joke for today, Brevity? I appreciate absurd humor just as much as the next guy, but there still needs to be a joke there. You can't just draw a snake sliding down a ladder and say to yourself, "Yep, Snakes n' Ladders, that there's a keeper!" then just whisk it off the the syndicate with a feeling of job accomplished. A reference with no joke attached is just a comics version of Epic Movie.

Here's another one, which somebody thought was so hilarious that it should be the cover of the new Brevity book:

Haha, get it? It's an escape key, and it escaped! And the return key is returning! Oh, man, this opens up a whole barrel of questions! Does the control key control something? Does the alt key alter things? Wow, the humor possibilities are endless! Once again, I submit to you that there is no joke in this panel. There rarely is with this comic. I could give you example after example, but the truth is: the comics page sucks enough nowadays. We don't need this sinkhole of humor making things even worse.

I don't think people realize how great we had it a couple decades ago, when Bloom County, The Far Side, and Calvin & Hobbes were all publishing. It was a glorious time for newspaper comics. We're in a sad state now, people, when Brevity publishes four books, and with the sorry state of newspapers in general, I don't know how it'll get any better. Those guys aren't coming out of retirement, and I don't think we can force Darby Conley to draw 'em all.

Gossip -- MUSIC FOR MEN

2009-10-06T22:59:00.005-06:00

Let's be honest here for a second: the men this music is for and who are primarily going to appreciate it are of the gay variety. Which is cool. I dig the Scissor Sisters as much as the next confident-in-his-heterosexuality male. I'm just warning the homophobic among you that this album may confuse and irritate you with its danceable grooves and brassy female vocals.

The rest of you will just dig all the fuck over it.

Gossip (previously known as The Gossip until dropping the definite article for some reason) is most often defined as a dance-punk band, and they earn that moniker on this album even more than their breakout last disc, Standing in the Way of Control. These guys are committed to nothing more than creating some spazzy dance moves in their listeners.

The playing is tight, and Beth Ditto is rapidly establishing herself as the finest vocalist of her generation. If the sound of jagged post-punk guitars mixed with funky bass lines sounds like your sort of thing, you really should acquire this album. Don't be scared off by the androgynous person on the cover. He/she won't hurt you.