Ghostbusters (1984)
VERDICT:
10/10 Flowers Still Standing
Really, folks. What’s not to love?
Ghostbusters is about a group of unemployed paranormal psychologists who decide to start up their own paranormal extermination business after realizing that there’s a need for their services in NYC that isn’t being met and is only getting worse with each new sliming that goes unpunished. Before you know it, the spooks are showing up freakin’ everywhere, people have completely stopped giving a shit about cockroaches and rats, so they all start callin’ up the ‘Busters and our guys turn into overnight celebrities as a result. But then some asshole from the EPA decides to put a lid on their operation, a supernatural orgy of troublemakin’ ghouls is unleashed across the city, and the GBs have to take out keymasters, gatekeepers, an otherworldly backup dancer for Kajagoogoo and a big-ass marshmallow man before The Big Apple goes to the ghosts.
A pretty original premise if there ever was one, but by the same token, this could have been pretty stupid, this could have been Howard the Duck stupid. SNL alums fighting ghosts in Manhattan? Rick Moranis turning into a demon dog? Did I mention the big-ass marshmallow man? Not exactly a movie that’d just been waiting to get made, nor is it a movie that I think would be all that easy to plug either. But the fact that this didn’t crash and burn on the cutting room floor and instead ended up being the outrageously iconic and endlessly entertaining blockbuster that it is just makes the whole thing that much better.
Can’t quite recall the first time I saw this, but I do remember renting it on a Saturday in middle school and watching it three times back-to-back-to-back when I should have been helping mom yank out weeds in the yard. Yeah, that was a pretty lame move on my part (or an awesome one!), but come on, it was Ghostbusters, that’s the only time I’ve ever done that with a movie and one time just wasn’t enough. Hell of a way to spend six hours and I’d do it again if people wouldn’t mind me reviewing Ghostbusters for three days straight.
That’s ’cause the whole damn thing is just freakin’ hilarious and just freakin’ new. The one-liners, the scenarios and the bad guys that Harold Ramis and Dan Aykroyd whipped up in this script of theirs are unforgettable, they’re immortal and they remain that way over 25 years later. Ramis is awesome as Egon, Aykroyd is awesome as Ray, Ernie Hudson is awesome as Winston…and then of course there’s Bill Murray as Venkman.
To say that I would shit my pants on the spot if I saw Bill Murray in person let alone have him randomly crash my karaoke party doesn’t quite do the excitement justice. Pretty sure it would lead to spontaneous combustion at some point, but I digress. Stealing the spotlight has always been an m.o. of Murray’s, but if there were ever an instance where he just ran away with it like no other, Peter Venkman is it. So sarcastic, so unqualified and unprofessional, such a bullshit artist, he’s the perfect contrast to his three colleagues and he’s got all the best lines and all the best scenes:
1. Pulling out the table cloth in the ballroom.
2. Strumming the piano keys in Sigourney Weaver’s apartment because “They hate this. I like to torture ’em.”
3. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nice shootin’, Tex!”
4. “Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together… mass hysteria!”
5. “Yes, it’s true…this man has no dick.”
And the list goes on. He’s had a lot of winners over the years, but this is absolutely one of Murray’s best roles and a huge reason why he’s the comedic god that would leave me starstruck in a coma. Nothing against the other ‘Busters, because Ray’s got “Aim for the flattop!”, Egon’s got the Twinkie speech and Winston’s got “When someone asks if you’re a god, you say ‘YES!'” but let’s not kid ourselves, if you and your buds dressed up as these four for Halloween, you bet your ass you’d be fighting to play Venkman. Not too shabby for a role that was originally written for John Belushi.
Surprisingly tough costume to put together, too. Those jumpsuits are damn expensive and good luck finding one of those old school proton packs on the cheap.
But Sigourney Weaver’s also awesome as the object of Venkman’s affection, Dana Barrett; Rick Moranis is classic as Barrett’s next-door neighbor, Louis; and William Atherton does a bang-up job as EPA cronie Walter Peck and continues to cement his reputation as the biggest douchebag character actor of the ’80s. Truly dickless.
I don’t know about you guys, but Ghostbusters may very well be one of the funniest movies ever made. That’s right, I went there. Doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl, an old fart who’s got it memorized front to back or a kid being introduced to it for the first time, this is one of those rare comedies that’s accessible to everyone and still manages to be a total rip even if you know all the punchlines by heart. Only scene that I don’t get is when the boys are about to enter Gozer’s building when an earthquake suddently hits, ends thirty seconds later, and then they pick themselves up walk in through the front door unscathed. No idea what the point of that was, but other than that, wouldn’t change a thing.
Wish I had some brighter things to say about this movie, but the simple truth is that it’s pure fun straight on through, so darn quotable and it doesn’t get much better than Ivan Reitman in his golden years. Man, do I miss those years.
And how about that theme song? Just doesn’t get any better.
Enter the Void (2010)
VERDICT:
7/10 Black Light Heavens
If Kubrick was a Japanese meth freak…
Enter the Void is about an American drug pusher in Tokyo who gets shot and killed when a deal turns out to be a setup. So the lights go out, his soul leaves his body, and he begins traveling through his troubled past from infancy through adulthood, watching over his friends and family in the present as they cope with his death, and searching for some kind of reincarnation in the future.
It’s hard to say if this is Gaspar Noe’s best movie so far because when it comes to Irreversible and I Stand Alone, it’s hard to say whether they were even good or bad to begin with. But the wonderful difference that separates Noe’s third effort here from his first two is that this is the only one of the bunch I can actually recommend to folks without fear of traumatizing anyone for life or being blacklisted as the resident sick fuck around the blogosphere. What a weight off that is.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here ’cause that doesn’t mean this movie’s for everyone either. It’s quite bizarre, if it had an MPAA rating it would make for an easy NC-17, and there’s still a couple teeth-grinding scenes here that will put you on edge, shock you silly and leave a gnarly taste in your mouth. Granted, this is like sitting through a Care Bears marathon in comparison to the boundaries that Noe is used to pushing, but compared to every other director who isn’t into nine-minute rape scenes, it’s a downer, it’s stuff you’ll probably just want to watch by yourself rather than risk making eye contact with the person next to you who just moved to the other end of the couch, and it’s simply some upsetting, in-your-face shit. Not all of it, just some of it, but I was close to knocking this down to a 6 several times because of it.
Then again, all this hinting is usually what gets people interested to check out Noe’s work for themselves, so I’ll just shut up now. All I’ll say is this: you might regret it in the long run, but it’s really something to see.
So Noe’s a crazy dude, there’s no arguing that, but he’s also pretty brilliant behind the camera. I love the way he films this like it’s one continuous shot from beginning to end thanks to all his invisible cuts that make the plot transition seamlessly from one scene to the next until the screen cuts to black two-and-a-half hours later. It’s just so painstakingly structured in a way you never see in movies and as a viewer it creates this feeling that it’s not just Noe’s style on display, but that he is genuinely invested in the story he’s sharing and how it’s meant to be received. And then there’s Tokyo, this sea of flashing neon against endless night that’s enough to give the wrong person epilepsy and looks like a dream just the way it is. It’s like the underbelly of everything you didn’t see in Lost in Translation, and while it isn’t until the last 15 minutes or so that we finally see the city at its most vibrant, Tokyo is one hell of a setting for a movie.
Folks, this is Noe’s 2001. Not to say that it’s on the same level as Kubrick’s masterpiece by any means, but once you see it, you’ll get it. Our dealer’s first trip looks like it was taken right from Bowman’s journey through the mysteries of the universe, there’s extreme close-ups on light bulbs that look suspiciously similar to Hal, Noe’s afterlife is set in a hotel room that shouldn’t exist, you’ve got grown men reborn as infants, and there’s even a reference to drug’s effects as “the ultimate trip”. Really happy I just re-watched 2001 for the first time in ages and have it fresh in my mind, but it’s all right there and it’s all freakin’ gorgeous. From the gamut of colors that never let up to Thomas Bangalter’s score that sounds like a jam session with Satan on didgeridoo and Carl Sagan on electric piano organ, it’s as fitting a tribute as any that Noe could have created for the movie that changed his life.
Alright, so Noe is arguably at the top of his game here as director, and that’s good business. But then there’s his script, and, oh, how I wish it were good enough to warrant another five paragraphs of praise.
It’s one of those situations where it seems like Noe had all these amazing things he wanted to with the camera that could put all these cool Kubrick-ian ideas he had to good use and so he wrote something that would let him do it. In its defense, it is very original, the concept of reincarnation makes for an awesome blank slate and Noe does a great job of bringing it all full circle with each new step, and I really dig the way it’s put together so that we experience the length of our protagonist’s life and afterlife through his eyes as it flashes before him. But when push comes to shove, the characters, the dialogue and what they’re going through ultimately feel like a means to an end. And that sucks. I wish I had a connection to these people.
There’s newcomer Nathaniel Brown as our small-time dopeman, Oscar, whose face we only get to see maybe twice thanks to the way Noe films him like it’s the feature-length version of “Smack My Bitch Up”. And he’s fine, but he’s just there to move things along. Then there’s Paz de la Huerta as Oscar’s stripper sister, Linda, and in true Paz de la Huerta fashion, you can count on her to be bare-ass for half the effing movie. I know she’s a stripper and everything, but it’s actually pretty ridiculous how often she’s in her birthday suit here, like before each scene she’d suggest to Noe that it might be better if her boobs were out again and Noe would be all for it. Doesn’t hurt her character or anything because either way she’s about as memorable as her brother, but I don’t know, just seemed unnecessary outside of playing up all the ambiguously incestuous undertones.
Although newcomer Cyril Roy is pretty solid as Oscar’s best friend, Alex. Then again, I’ve got a friend from Naples who might as well be this guy’s doppelganger and my recurring thought that “This guy is doing one hell of a Marco impression!” may very well be swaying my views.
But the fact of the matter is that if Noe’s substance was as good as his style, Enter the Void would without a doubt have been one of the better movies of last year. It really is an amazing experience to soak in, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to see this on a big screen while tripping balls (not that I’d recommend that ever), and in its own little way, it really is “the ultimate trip”. All the same, the pacing would have been far less meandering and far less noticeable if the script hadn’t been so reliant on the camera. Still the most accessible place to discover Noe, and let me tell ya’, it is some wacko shit to discover.
Consider yourself warned.
Rain Man (1988)
VERDICT:
9/10 Definitely K-Marts
Why can’t Tom Cruise always be this good?
Rain Man is about a self-centered, superficial yuppie who goes back home to cash out on his inheritance after finding out that his estranged father has suddenly passed away. Upon discovering that his father more or less shafted him in the will and gave his $3 million estate to an unnamed beneficiary, our guy tracks down the said anonymous recipient who ends up being the autistic older brother that his parents never told him about. So in an emotional moment of poor judgment, the younger brother decides to semi-kidnap his big bro, drives to L.A. for six days until someone pays him his half of the $3 million, and in the meanwhile gets to know the sibling he never had who couldn’t be any different from what he expected.
Being someone who watches an unhealthy amount of movies that range from The Godfather to Survive Style +5, there aren’t a whole lot of big names that have fallen through the cracks over the years. Still haven’t seen Black Hawk Down, still need to carve out those four hours to sit through Gone With the Wind, and until this past weekend, Rain Man was high up on that very same embarrassing list. No idea how it ended up there considering how many times I’d surfed past it on TBS over the years, but that Ted Turner and the rest of the world sure knew something I didn’t because this movie really is something else.
This is exactly I need to revisit Diner, The Natural and introduce myself to Tin Men because Barry Levinson really was great behind the camera way back when. Long before the days of Man of the Year, Envy and handful of other winners that I’m sure Levinson would like to pretend never happened, this guy was making and writing some seriously good movies that still hold up to this day thanks to memorable, believable characters and the vivid, familiar settings that surrounded them. But while none of the writing credit actually goes to him this time around (even though it sounds awfully close to something he would write), all those gorgeous, sprawling Midwest landscapes that highlight so much of this road trip to the retro finishes that make it look like the coolest parts of Happy Days got magically transported three decades into the future, those are all Barry and he makes this baby look gorgeous.
It’s simple, it’s sparse, and it’s perfect. It keeps your attention focused on the characters, it’s good old American eye candy at its best and it makes the trip that much more captivating outside of all the back-and-forths about The People’s Court, pancakes and toothpicks. I never knew the stretch between Cincinnati and L.A. had more to offer than corn as far as the eye can see, but it’s a far cry from the Manhattan skyline and I think that’s one of the many stunning things about it. So way to go, Barry. Sure do love those sunsets.
But as far as the writing credit is concerned, that right there goes to Ronald Bass and Barry Morrow who totally deserved the Oscars they nabbed for this. Then again, I really don’t know where the hell this script came from being that these guys don’t have a whole lot else on their resumes worth bragging about, but whatever, what matters is that it’s right up Levinson’s alley and that’s a fine place to be. It’s riddled with phenomenal dialogue from beginning to end, it’s incredibly heartfelt and honest in ways that never feel cheap or melodramatic, it’s a brilliant premise to work off of, but more than anything else, these guys created two absolutely exceptional characters to center a movie around. And as with any great script, it helps to have great performances there to deliver it all.
On the one hand is Dustin Hoffman as our autistic savant, Raymond Babbitt, and in completely unsurprising fashion, he’s out of sight. Why? Because he’s Dusting-fucking-Hoffman, that’s why. But even so, this is a serious achievement for the guy, for any actor really. It’s the voice, the nervous ticks, the little moments where his actions completely transcend the “idiot” label he gets pegged with, and the dozens of other things that ultimately makes Raymond seem just as “normal” as his brother despite the initial instinct to write him off as something less. I watched Hoffman do his thing and the one thing that kept coming to mind is, “This guy either doing one hell of a good impression or he is digging real deep right now. Or both.” It’s so impressive the way Hoffman presents Ray so that you don’t pity him, but rather he’s misunderstood in a way most people will never understand. Not an easy balance to strike but he does it flawlessly and he makes you want to learn more.
But that’s what you expect from Dustin Hoffman.
What I didn’t expect was Tom Cruise as Charlie Babbitt, the biggest hot shot asshole of the ’80s this side of Bud Fox. Now, I’ve never really been sold on Cruise even though he’s proved himself time and time again as a solid actor and I was expecting him to start playing second fiddle here as soon as Hoffman entered the picture. But strangely enough, between him and Hoffman, he totally ended up with the better character arc of the two. God, he’s so spot-on as the bratty, materialistic asshole for so much of the movie and to watch that pent-up angst slowly fade away with each new epiphany that Raymond’s presence brings about, it’s enough to make a grown man cry. After this, I really need to give Tom a break and accept that he’s no joke when he puts his mind to it. He really is great, and even if Hoffman won the Oscar in a year where Cruise didn’t even get nominated, the proof is very much in the pudding.
Folks, Levinson and the script really add so much to why this movie works so well, but watching these two go from strangers to brothers is simply wonderful. The bath water scene, Charlie teaching Ray how to dance in their Vegas suite (my personal favorite), Ray’s first “wet” kiss – there’s just so many great moments between the two from one scene to the next and it choked me up as much it had me laughing. If you have a brother, it’ll make you appreciate ’em that much more, and if you don’t, you might just wish you did.
I realize that I’ve now gone through every adjective in the book to describe everything that I effing loved about this movie, but it really did blow me away far more than I thought it would. It’s about family no matter what, forgiveness, and looking past the surface, and while I might have been outrageously late in discovering it, Rain Man is a stunner, it’s nothin’ fancy, and that’s one hell of a combination when it’s done right. Just so damn good on every front. Never gonna surf past this one again.
No Strings Attached (2011)
VERDICT:
3/10 F*ck Buddies
Not up to Ivan Reitman’s standards, definitely up to Ashton Kutcher’s standards.
No Strings Attached is about a guy and a girl who meet when they’re kids, meet again when they’re in college, then meet one more time after they’ve entered the real world and start knocking boots up like jackrabbits. But since the girl’s a workaholic and isn’t up for a relationship or all the emotional hangups that come with, they agree to do the whole friends with benefits thing for an indefinite amount of time. So everything’s going according to plan for a couple weeks, but then Ashton starts falling for her, she’s all like, “Boy, you trippin’,” and thus their whole let’s-use-each-other-for-sex-and-nothing-bad-can-possibly-come-of-it dynamic gets turned upside down in a way that no one saw coming.
Before I get down to fine details of this fine motion picture, let me start by saying that I am in no way shape or form the target audience for this movie. Nothing against chick flicks because I like to think that I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to the stuff I watch and I’d gladly stand up for About a Boy or Say Anything any day of the week, but what I am against are carbon copy chick flicks.
If you’ve seen the trailer, if you read that synopsis up there, you don’t need me to tell you how this movie plays out from start to finish. You know it already because you’ve seen it/heard it/lived it and it’s simply been beaten to death. The only difference here is that instead of beating around the bush, the writers have made the friends with benefits aspect the driving force of the story. Sounds edgier in theory, but believe you me, it’s about as edgy as a spoon in practice and it adds nothing to a formula that’s already been worn down to the nub.
Sure, the characters have new names and new jobs and all that good stuff, but they’re essentially going through all the same ups and downs that everyone else has gone through before them. What the writers have done here though is hit up Urban Dictionary and gone gung-ho to see how many times they can make the audience cringe over sex slang they’ve probably never even heard of. Don’t know what a “tunnel buddy” is? You will soon enough.
I did find myself smiling a couple times here and there thanks to Abby Elliott’s brief impression of Drew Barrymore and one other scene that I can’t even remember, but all in all, the script is trying too damn hard to be funny and that’s usually a recipe for failure. It’s not like there was a chorus of crickets in the audience because a lot of other folks were laughing a lot more than I was, but sitting through this kept bringing on flashbacks of seeing Best in Show and Meet the Parents with my mom back in the day, and those were not good times. It’s more just uncomfortable to listen to than anything else and too much of the humor is just aimed at grossing the audience out or making a running gag out of some random shit like a kid in the background who takes pictures of his whang and shows them to unsuspecting girls. Man, it’s weak stuff and it really did have the potential to be good, if not decent.
So, the script is generally harsh, but it is endearing to a degree, it’s not trying to reinvent the wheel and at least it’s well aware of that. And surprisingly enough, the cast ain’t too bad either.
As much as I’d like to say that Natalie Portman is doing a great job of enrolling in the Cuba Gooding, Jr. School of Imploding Your Career One Movie At a Time by following up Black Swan with this, she’s the best thing this movie’s got going for it. Just so adorable, likable and watchable as our gal Emma and she makes it work because she seems so naturally fun. I don’t know, maybe I’m getting a bit ahead of myself here, but Portman’s a peach and this role wasn’t the misstep I expected it to be.
And I’ll save the Ashton Kutcher bashing for the day when I’m forced to watch Killers because, strangely enough, he’s fine here as the emotional half of the relationship, Adam. I thought having to watch him play Ashton Kutcher for two hours would have been the teeth-grinding experience of the year, but he doesn’t have to do a whole lot and that suits him just fine. Not a whole lot to say really, just happy things ended up working out alright.
But Kevin Kline got totally shafted with a horribly written role as Kutcher’s a-hole dad. Poor guy, he should be getting the royal treatment without fail after A Fish Called Wanda.
And then there’s Ludacris, Greta Gerwig, Mindy Kaling, Olivia Thirlby and Lake Bell in bit roles, and they all play their parts. A bearded Cary Elwes is also here as Portman’s boss of sorts, he’s got maybe three lines in the whole movie and his character really could have been written out entirely from square one. Just another case of unnecessary randomness from this script.
But for the most part, I’d actually say this movie is more like a 4 than a 3. It’s not terrible by any means and Natalie Portman is a major saving grace, but the thing I keep coming back to is that movies like No Strings Attached are the enemy. If it’s a light, cutesy, predictable rom-com that you’re in the mood for, then you’ll probably love this and I won’t knock ya’ for it. Different strokes for different folks, I can respect that. Then again, this just wasn’t for me and I’m dead tired of writers, directors and actors signing up to be part of the same damn movie time and time again without any noticeable difference outside of upping the awkward factor. Ladies, fellas, we can do better, we deserve better.
Sad to see Ivan Reitman attached to this, too. You directed Ghostbusters, dude. What the hell happened?
The 2011 Oscar Nom Rundown
Oh, yes, my pretties.
If you’ve turned on your computer at all this past week, chances are you’ve picked up on all this Oscar/Bieber fever going ’round and saw this post coming in a fat old way. So consider this my prediction ballot, my dream ballot and my chance to cry a river over this year’s snubs. Feel free to check out the full list of nominees so you can be like “Oh, hell no!” or “Mm-hmmmm!” as you read along, but if you’re already on the level and memorized everything that came out of Mo’Nique’s mouth last Tuesday, I give you my Nostradamus-like input on the matter:
BEST PICTURE:
WILL WIN: The Social Network
SHOULD WIN: The Social Network
IN A PERFECT WORLD: Inside Job
BUT IT’S STILL PRETTY COOL THAT THEY SNUBBED THE TOWN OVER: Winter’s Bone
BEST ACTRESS:
WILL WIN: Natalie Portman for Black Swan
SHOULD WIN: Natalie Portman for Black Swan
WOULDN’T THAT BE COOL: Emma Stone for Easy A
BEST ACTOR:
WILL WIN: Colin Firth for The King’s Speech
SHOULD WIN: Colin Firth for The King’s Speech
IN A PERFECT WORLD: Ryan Gosling for Blue Valentine
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:
WILL WIN: Christian Bale for The Fighter
SHOULD WIN: Christian Bale for The Fighter
HELL TO THE YEAH FOR NOMINATING: John Hawkes for Winter’s Bone
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:
WILL WIN: Melissa Leo for The Fighter
SHOULD WIN: Amy Adams for The Fighter (you go, girl)
WILL UNDOUBTEDLY BE WEARING THE SCARIEST EFFING THING ON THE RED CARPET: Helena Bonham Carter for The King’s Speech
BEST ANIMATED FILM:
WILL WIN: Toy Story 3
SHOULD WIN: Toy Story 3
WISH THEY HAD A SILVER OSCAR FOR: How to Train Your Dragon
BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT:
WILL WIN: Who the hell knows. Let’s just go with the “SHOULD WIN” vote.
SHOULD WIN: Killing in the Name thanks to the indirect Rage connection.
BEST ANIMATED SHORT:
WILL WIN: Day & Night
SHOULD WIN: Day & Night
DO I HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT: No.
BEST SHORT FILM (LIVE-ACTION):
WILL WIN: God of Love
SHOULD WIN: Absolutely no idea.
BEST ART DIRECTION:
WILL WIN: Alice in Wonderland
SHOULD WIN: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (sure, why not?)
BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY:
WILL WIN: Black Swan
SHOULD WIN: Black Swan
IF YOU SAID YOU’D GIVE ME TEN BUCKS TO BREAK DOWN “CINEMATOGRAPHY”: You’d still be ten bucks richer, my friend.
BEST COSTUME DESIGN:
WILL WIN: Alice in Wonderland
SHOULD WIN: Alice in Wonderland
I CAN’T EFFING BELIEVE I’M PULLING FOR: Alice in Wonderland in any way shape or form.
BEST DIRECTOR:
WILL WIN: David Fincher for The Social Network
SHOULD WIN: Darren Aronofsky for Black Swan (nothing against Fincher, though)
WHERE THE HELL IS: Christopher Nolan for Inception?
BEST DOCUMENTARY:
WILL WIN: Restrepo
SHOULD WIN: Inside Job (nothing against Restrepo, though)
AGAIN, WHERE THE HELL IS: The Tillman Story?
BEST MAKEUP:
WILL WIN: The Wolfman
SHOULD WIN: The Wolfman
WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT: The Wolfman?
BEST EDITING:
WILL WIN: Black Swan
SHOULD WIN: Tough call. Maybe The Social Network.
BEST FOREIGN FILM:
WILL WIN: Dogtooth
SHOULD WIN: Will let you know when I get around to seeing Dogtooth.
ANYONE ELSE FIND IT WEIRD THAT THEY IGNORED: Enter the Void? Guess it’s the language rather than the country of origin that counts.
BEST ORIGINAL SCORE:
WILL WIN: Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for The Social Network
SHOULD WIN: Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for The Social Network (yet one more reason why Reznor is a golden god)
THE RAVERS IN THE AUDIENCE WILL PROBABLY THROW GRAPEFRUITS AT ANNE HATHAWAY SINCE NO ONE HAD THE SENSE TO NOMINATE: Daft Punk for TRON: Legacy
BEST ORIGINAL SONG:
WILL WIN: “Coming Home” from Country Strong
SHOULD WIN: “We Belong Together” from Toy Story 3
WHEN IN DOUBT, GO WITH: Randy Newman
BEST SOUND EDITING:
WILL WIN: Inception
SHOULD WIN: Leaning towards TRON: Legacy actually.
IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR AN EXPERT ANALYSIS ON SOUND EDITING, LOOK NO FURTHER THAN: Here.
BEST SOUND MIXING:
WILL WIN: Inception
SHOULD WIN: Inception, because no one could shut up about the sound mixing in that movie.
BEST VISUAL EFFECTS:
WILL WIN: Inception
SHOULD WIN: Inception
I AT LEAST HOPE JAMES FRANCO WILL BE READY FOR THAT SECOND VOLLEY OF GRAPEFRUITS SINCE NO ONE HAD THE SENSE TO NOMINATE: TRON: Legacy
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY:
WILL WIN: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network
SHOULD WIN: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network
THE UNDERDOG I’M SECRETLY PULLING FOR: Debra Granik and Anne Rossellini for Winter’s Bone
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY:
WILL WIN: Stuart Blumberg and Lisa Cholodenko for The Kids are All Right
SHOULD WIN: Christopher Nolan for Inception
ONLY GETS BETTER THE MORE I THINK ABOUT IT: Paul Attanasio, Lewis Colich, Eric Johnson, Scott Silver and Paul Tamasy for The Fighter
Well, still some time to mull these picks over until the big day comes around and I’ll ask myself yet again why I stay up to watch every year, but it is inevitable and I will be tired as hell at work on Monday. So place your bets, folks. I got my life’s savings riding on this one.
And make sure you hop on over to The New York Times to punch in your votes. Ya’ might just win an iPad out of it.
And the Best Actress of 2010 is…
NATALIE PORTMAN!
Amen, sister. Best thing she’s done since The Professional and those sonsabitches in The Academy would be crazy to rob her this year. All the same, good performances all around and swell voting to boot.
You kids are on a roll.
RESULTS:
– Natalie Portman: 22 votes (doesn’t it look like she has a lazy eye in that picture?)
– Michelle Williams: 6 votes (might be my #1 if it weren’t for Natalie)
– Jennifer Lawrence: 5 votes (might be my #1 if it weren’t for Michelle)
– Emma Stone: 5 votes
– Anne Hathaway: 4 votes
– Amy Adams: 3 votes
– Chloe Moretz: 2 votes
– Julianne Moore: 1 vote
– Annette Bening: 1 vote
– Other: 1 vote for Miley Cyrus (pretty cool), 1 vote for Hailee Steinfeld (Best Supporting Actress will come around in no time, but still, she rocked), 1 vote for Winona Ryder (I smell a comeback) and 1 vote for Eva Angelina (and that’s why I don’t Google unknowns at work).
Thank God you did this, girl. Your involvement in No Strings Attached would have been a lot less forgivable had you not.
The Mechanic (1972)
VERDICT:
6/10 Grease Monkeys
Pretty dated, but Charles Bronson’s a badass as usual.
The Mechanic is about a hitman who takes out one of his numerous employers, makes it look like an accident because he’s just that damn good, but then finds himself taking the former employer’s son under his wing since the kid won’t leave him the hell alone. One thing leads to another and he starts training the kid in the ways of killing dudes softly, they shoot, judo chop and run dudes off cliffs together like good assassins do, although all is not as it seems behind the curtain.
Now that I think about it, this is a hell of a lot like The Professional, or vice-versa thanks that whole 20-year time difference. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here because comparing anything to The Professional is a tall order to live up to, and this definitely doesn’t meet the requirements. Nevertheless, it’s got its moments here and there.
It’s directed by one Michael Winner whose biggest claim to fame was also directing what’s arguably the most iconic of all Bronson movies, Death Wish. Not sure what kinda buttons I’m gonna push by saying this, but while it ain’t bad by any means, Death Wish ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. And after hearing this referred to as an action “classic” from folks down the line and now that it’s gained enough of a reputation to be remade in to what looks a hell of a lot like The Transporter 4, I’m kinda wondering if I watched the same movie.
From an action standpoint, it’s cool but it’s inconsistent. It starts out with Bronson taking a guy out in an outrageously complicated fashion so that the whole operation looks like an accident, then there’s another guy he bumps off with a far more ho-hum approach, then there’s an hour or so of jibba jabba, and then there’s the final Act where things finally pick up. And that’s fine, I guess, it’s not like I was expecting Ronin or anything, it’s that there’s no moment where I forgot that this movie was made in ’72.
And all that in between stuff wouldn’t be so noticeable if the writing wasn’t such shit. Just really bland dialogue that even Bronson has trouble with and it goes in some weird directions that had me flat-out baffled. One scene in particular where Bronson’s new sidekick goes to his girl’s place, she slits her wrists in front of him, and then he just chills and makes small talk while she bleeds out for a couple hours until she drives to the hospital. Like, of all the ways to prove to the audience that this kid may or may not have what it takes to kill someone, this is it. Man, you have to actively try to screw the pooch to make a shitty movie about hitmen and there are times when it comes dangerously close.
And some of Bronson’s tactics are pretty suspect, too, like making a guy run just far enough that it triggers a heart attack or knowing exactly what a guy’s routine is when he gets home just by breaking in and seeing that he’s got teabags in his cupboard. Seems like a bit unnecessarily risky to me, but I’m not the hitman, Bronson obviously knows what he’s doing. Except for the second to last scene of the movie, he had no idea what he was doing and that was some poorly written bullshit.
But then again, I have a hard time knocking anything with Charles Bronson in it even if he is the biggest saving grace this movie’s got. It’s no Harmonica, but Charlie’s lookin’ pretty boss with his uber-shaggy mop top as Arthur Bishop, that permanent squint of his does the trick quite nicely and he’s just gettin’ it done the way he always does. Works for me. But Keenan Wynn (the soldier from Dr. Strangelove who shoots the Coke machine) is astoundingly bad as the former employer who gets waxed at the start and Jan-Michael Vincent is one smug little bastard as Bishop’s understudy, Harry. He’s probably supposed to be a smug little bastard, but he’s one of those pretty boys you just want to punch in the face and give a buzz cut to more than anything else.
When The Mechanic picks up, it’s pretty entertaining and it’s got some pretty insano car crashes the likes of which you never see in movies any more, but by the same token, a remake could actually do this baby some good. Can’t believe I just typed those words being that Hollywood will remake fucking anything these days as long there continue to be people in the world who’ll watch a trailer and go, “Holy shit! I used to love Marmaduke!” but I think the fat cats are actually onto something here. Still worth checking out for Bronson since he was the man and I feel like people forget about/aren’t hip to that fact, and it’s a decent enough action movie otherwise. Probably giving this one more credit than it deserves, but like I said:
Bronson.
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (2010)
VERDICT:
8/10 Comeback Queens
Uh, has Joan Rivers always been this funny? Where the hell I have I been?
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work is a documentary that follows a year in the life of the Joan Rivers who at 76-years-old is taking any gig she can get her hands on in the hopes of keeping herself from financial ruin and maintaining her reputation as a comic legend while avoiding the dreaded realm of “has-been”. Yup, it’s all about Joan from her glory days with Johnny Carson to her winning stint on Celebrity Apprentice and all the ups and downs that come with making a living in the public eye, and strangely enough, it’s pretty compelling, too.
Let me start off by saying that if my good buddy Fred hadn’t been so in touch with his feminine side, I never would have given this movie a look, and ya’ know, that would have been fine by me. It’s not that I’ve ever had something against Joan Rivers, she just happens to be one of these celebrities that exists and I’ve been perfectly content with her falling into that category over the years. She was the reason I’ll never get plastic surgery, the closest I ever got to giving her a chance was during her days as the two-faced voice of the red carpet, and I knew that Carson thought quite highly of her before they had a falling out and never spoke again. I guess that’s some relatively intriguing material for a movie right there, but nevertheless, I didn’t really care to dig deeper.
But then this movie kicks off with her doing a stand-up routine about how her daughter’s a fucking idiot for turning down Playboy instead of telling them she’d go full-frontal for an extra 20 grand because when you’re 76 you’ll wake up to find your hoo-ha’s drooped so far that you’re wearing it as a slipper, and there I was laughing my ass off with the rest of the crowd. This is coming from someone who generally doesn’t go for jokes, who generally doesn’t go for stand-up either, but with that being said, those are two more reasons why I feel like a douche for writing her off.
And don’t be fooled by her age, Joan is a very dirty comic. Some of her bits make Bob Saget’s stuff look like Danny Tanner telling knock-knock jokes, she’s politically incorrect to a fault and it doesn’t come as much of a surprise when she gets into a shouting match with a heckler after a joke about Helen Keller’s baby years, and she’s only gotten better and edgier since she broke onto the scene. Her act might not be for everyone and you might have to be careful about the company you choose to see this with, but even though my ranting is probably butchering her unreal delivery and timing, Joan is unexpected and Joan is freakin’ hilarious.
But while the laughs come in hard from start to finish, that’s only part of what makes this doc worth watching.
I don’t know about you guys, but the idea of ever becoming a full-fledged celebrity is an idea I hope never comes to fruition. It’s just so weird and invasive, the only private life you have is the one you have to fight to protect, and I honestly have no effing idea how anyone can live like that. The spin that Joan’s life puts on this whole stigma of mine is that she’s the opposite of all that, or at least most of that. As a life-long workaholic with a healthy fear of opening up her monthly calendar and being blinded by the white reflection of the empty page, she’s desperate for the spotlight and will take on any gig to get it back, pay the bills, and remind people that Kathy Griffin ain’t got shit on her (my words, not hers).
But then there’s the part of her that’s terrified of rejection, of going up on stage and hearing a chorus of crickets chirp back, a part that’s a lot easier to sympathize with. She’s not a diva, she’d just rather not try in some regards than end up with egg on her face. I mean, come on, that would suck to hit the apex of your career in your 30s, hit a bump, have your husband commit suicide and then struggle for the next 30 some-odd years to gain back what you had even though your material is better than it ever was to begin with. It’s not sad in a “let’s have a pity party for Joan Rivers” kind of way, it’s more just sad to watch her try so hard for longer than anyone should have to at her age instead of simply kicking back in Del Boca Vista and playing shuffleboard with neighbors.
After seeing this and thinking back to Jerry Seinfeld’s Comedian – a similar documentary about Seinfeld returning to his roots as a stand-up along with some less-than-necessary insights from up-and-coming and annoying-as-fuck comedian Orny Adams – it’s pretty surprising how interesting comedy can be aside from all the yuks. Directors Anne Sundberg and Ricki Stern also do a swell job of capturing Joan’s sense of humor and vulnerability without letting the tone slip too far off into either end. It came close to being a Debbie Downer once or twice, but then I was howling again the very next second. Well done.
Folks, up until a couple days ago, the prospect of sitting through a documentary about Joan Rivers was about as appealing as getting Botoxed, but I’m pretty sure I liked this even more than my good buddy Fred did and I’d absolutely go see one her weekly live gigs she puts on in NYC. Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work was a minor revelation of sorts for me, and while it’s not on the same level as some of major revelations that 2010’s fine catalogue of documentaries had to provide, it sure was entertaining. In the words of an adoring fan she meets outside a comedy club, “You don’t get the respect you deserve!” And then in the words of Joan, “Damn right!”
Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade (1998)
VERDICT:
7/10 Bad Dogs
Jam-packed with promise, but still too complex for its own good.
Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade takes place in an alternate Tokyo that’s riddled with civil unrest, anti-government protesting and a rogue group of terrorists whose riot bombings forced the military to create a special police unit to eliminate them. So when a corporal in the special unit freezes up in the line of duty, he gets sent back to the training grounds and in turn jeopardizes the unit’s existence. As he works his way back to the top and builds an unlikely relationship with the twin sister of a terrorist he couldn’t bring himself to kill, he finds himself caught up in a web of double- and triple-crosses that are gunning to make him a scapegoat and wipe out his unit for good.
Folks, thank God for Wikipedia because it took me forever to come up with that synopsis. Gave this one my full, undivided attention, thought I’d be able to follow it like a pro since it’d been a good seven years or so since I was first introduced to Jin-Roh, but as I secretly expected, I was barely keeping my head above water. Then again, I probably shouldn’t be all too surprised by that since this is Mamoru Oshii we’re dealing with, and if there’s one thing anyone knows about Mamoru Oshii it’s that the dude never keeps things simple.
Over the course of some thirty-odd years, Oshii gained his reputation as an anime legend after writing and directing Ghost in the Shell, its outrageously confusing and awfully badass sequel, the Patlabor movies and a handful of other heavyweights that most people will probably never see because they’re not a 14-year-old Asian shut-in. Nothing against 14-year-old Asian shut-ins being that I more or less doubled as one during my studlier years in High School, but if for some reason you ever get the overwhelming urge to geek out on anime and throw your social reputation to the wind, you’ll quickly find your way to Oshii.
And a lot of what he’s always done well is very much on display here.
As an action movie, it’s definitely got its moments. Our protagonist comes in the form a military badass named Kazuki Fuse, and even though he might not have the balls to off grenade-toting little girls at point blank range (an admirable quality if there ever was one), he’s more or less the Japanese answer to John Rambo. Whether he’s unarmed and walking into a trap set by dozens of trigger-happy government agents who are all waiting around to train those crosshairs on his forehead, or if he’s hunting rebels in the sewers with his Helghast armor on and lugging around a machine gun the size of a 14-year-old Asian shut-in, the dude is a boss and he tears shit up. Unfortunately, there’s not a whole lot of time devoted to him doing what he does best in this regard, but the few scenes we’re treated do are quite choice indeed.
So that’s all good, but the anchor here really is the story. Well, it’s actually more like two parallel stories being told at the same time, the first of which being that whole clustercuss of political and military backstabbing that kicks off with Fuse screwing the pooch and the girl he starts hanging out with, and the second is that of Little Red Riding Hood. The connection between the two comes in the form of a rumored military unit called The Wolf Brigade that’s said to be secretly connected to the good guys, the bad guys and everyone in between, and then there are those grenade-toting terrorist girls who carry their wares in satchels and dress the part of Red Riding Hood herself. As the plot progresses and things start to become clearer, Fuse continues to narrate the role of The Big Bad Wolf and his new main squeeze reads off Red’s lines until those teeth come out and someone gets eaten.
I hope I’ve done a decent job of explaining how it all plays out, but it’s very cool, it’s very original and it totally works. It’s actually the most helpful tool you’ve got to follow along since breaking down the main story line is like solving a Rubiks cube while blindfolded at certain points.
As for the characters, they’re fine and the relationships among them seem to exist at best, but it takes a long time for their true colors to finally come out. Although they do look good throughout and the animation here is awfully fluid to boot. And how about those military supersuits, huh? Creepy shit. No wonder the folks behind Killzone jumped on that bandwagon.
So it’s easy to admire what this movie is going for and a lot of what it lays on the table does in fact work really well, but it’s also not enough to warrant the handful of extra viewings that I’d need to fully understand all the ins and outs. Jin-Roh isn’t the most accessible anime movie out there, but for the challenge it presents, the payoff is ultimately pretty solid for those who can stay on the level. And even if you get lost along the way, it’s still awfully easy on the eyes and that whole Little Red Riding Hood dynamic is pretty effing sweet.
Piranha (2010)
VERDICT:
5/10 Spring Break Bloodbaths
Boobs, blood, boobs and boobs. You know, a movie about the finer things.
Piranha takes place in the placid town of Lake Havasu where floods of horny college kids have hit the beaches to get drunk, grind so hard against each other that their bathing suits explode off their bodies and encourage every girl in sight to take their top off or at least take part in one of the 36 different wet T-shirt contests going down. But unbeknownst to them, a minor earthquake has unleashed a horde of prehistoric cannibal piranhas right underneath their bikini bottoms, and let me tell ya’, these little critters are right pissed. So the town sheriff has to try and get everyone off the water, her son is supposed to be babysitting his siblings but has instead taken them on a Girls Gone Wild cruise, and that means everyone is pretty much screwed.
Well, I didn’t see it in 3D, I didn’t see in a packed theater and I’m pretty sure this wasn’t meant to be viewed on a laptop in a laundromat, so I was already at a disadvantage before this even started. Those very reasons are why this ended up being one of the few movies I really felt bad about missing this last Summer, and if I’d seen it under the most optimum of circumstances, I’m thinking I would have liked it a whole lot more.
All the same, you’re getting exactly what you’d expect from this even if it is in 2D all by your lonesome.
I’ve never seen any of the Piranha movies, but it doesn’t take a whole lot of research to realize that this is essentially one big shameless rip-off of/homage to Jaws. If you had any doubts about that, the opening five minutes featuring an aged Richard Dreyfuss in complete Hooper attire getting ripped to shreds in a vortex of fishy death should clear things right up. It’s campy, it’s absurd and it pretty much exists for two sole purposes: to give dudes boners and to set a new record for Most Porn Stars Killed in 90 Minutes. A noble set of goals if there ever was one and they sure do go all out to achieve ’em
Seriously, I don’t know how they got away with an R-rating here because there are boobies everywhere. EVERYWHERE! If a girl gets sliced in two, we need to make sure that her boob pops out before her torso plops in the water. If there’s a girl parasailing, she must do it topless and grab herself like gangbusters before the piranhas chew her legs off. If there are two bikini-clad girls doing body shots off each other on a boat, they need to thrown on those birthday suits, jump in the water and get filmed by Jerry O’Connell for an uber-long time through a glass floor. And what the hell, lets get Eli Roth in here to hose down some chicks during a wet T-shirt contest so we can get some legit 3D boobs-in-your-face action going on. Folks, I ain’t kiddin’, this every 13-year-old boy’s wet dream, it probably wasn’t the best idea to watch this in a public place of business, and I haven’t even gotten to the gore yet.
It’s directed by one Alexandre Aja, and for those who don’t know, Alexandre Aja is one sick puppy. Jesus, go watch High Tension or The Hills Have Eyes if you don’t believe me, the guy is certifiable. Then again, this isn’t him at his most extreme by a long shot and that’s mainly because he’s not taking this seriously in the least. Most of it is just countless amounts of people getting chewed to the nub until all that’s left is a floating eye or silicone implants, although Eli Roth does get treated to a gnarly death that’s very fitting of an Eli Roth cameo and then there’s the one girl who is unfortunate enough to get her hair caught in the propeller of a boat. Yeah, that doesn’t end too well for her. Probably the worst spring break ever.
It’s definitely some hairy stuff, but it’s more crazy than it is shocking since the whole thing so damn intentionally ridiculous. Still the best thing Aja’s done in a while though.
And speaking of cameos, I couldn’t believe how many people came out of the woodwork for this one. Christopher Lloyd plays a fish genius of some sort; Elisabeth Shue plays the town sheriff; Ving Rhames plays the co-sheriff and even gets to take a motorboat propeller to those fuckin’ fish; and Jerry O’Connell is annoying as hell as our Joe Francis of the hour, but that’s not much of a surprise. No idea how they got roped into this, but I dig it all the same.
But for the big horror comedy of 2010, I’m still pretty bummed that I didn’t laugh once. The problem is that instead of going the Snakes on a Plane route, it goes crazy on the horror end of things, and that ended up being the wrong direction. Wasn’t expecting a knee-slappin’ experience by any means, but nothing about the comedy here did it for me. Like I said, it really does help to watch a movie like this with a crowd, but I could have gone for more than a smirk here and there. Same problem I had with Teeth.
If it had been funnier, if I had been drunk and if I had someone else to laugh along with, I probably would have liked Piranha a hell of a lot more. I can only imagine the kind of hootin’ and hollerin’ that must have gone down in the theater when the piranhas started burping up severed dongs, but as is, it’s disappointingly forgettable for a movie that could have been a total fuckin’ blast.
Man, James Cameron didn’t even like it and that guy owes his career to Piranha!
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