Save your children. Take me outside.

Every year, without question, I participate in a cult-like tradition that divides my family. I feel like it's for the greater good, but my wife and friends think it's terrible and unnecessary. And despite it making me look and feel like a crazy person, there's something cathartic about gazing into the mirror and seeing that I've truly let go. Once a year, I distance myself from the pressures of adult society and succumb to a more primal state of being.

In other words, I grow a playoff beard.

Similar to my annual facial-hair disaster, The Purge may be slightly better in idea than execution. An impossibly clever setup ultimately ending in thriller-movie goofiness, this flick is better before you actually see it. And if you happened to catch the highly-effective trailer? You might be good. Just sit back, search your brain for any home invasion movie you've ever seen, microwave some popcorn, have the well, what would you do? conversation with your friends and save yourself ten bucks. Done.

But, if you do go, like my brother Nikos and I did, you'll probably enjoy yourself regardless. The Purge is breathtakingly brief and never really lets up. Yes, you've seen Dad defend his family from sick f--ks countless times, but at the end of the day, it's still fun. This logistically impossible idea of a twelve hour window of madness may be such a good summer movie idea that it's hard to resist. But it's also hard to end, too.

Though the movie is far too silly overall, I actually appreciated all the things it says about class and culture. The short run-time doesn't really allow for any personal reflections or anything (not that that's what fills seats in June), but I really got into the countless moral questions and ambiguities. It made for some solid post-movie conversation. Personally, I don't even kill spiders, much to my wife's chagrin. But given a chance to murder say...the guy who pulls out in front of me when there isn't a single f--king car behind me for miles!? That kind of sounds enticing, if only just a little bit. But then again, I am a teacher. There's probably forty five kids that would surround my house on the night of The Purge. Imagine the next day at school?

I need you to put this in your bottom hole.

Way back in the fall semester of 2000, I completed my college internship at a rock radio station in Connecticut. As much as I wanted to be on air, I ended up allowing myself to get stuck in the promotions department. Other than the occasional free Limp Bizkit CD, the real perk was working at the bars with the DJs. I'm not even sure what they did to get the crowd so crazed, but I do remember it almost always ended in topless women. In a surprising turn of events, and contrary to 99% of this blog, some breasts are actually horrible. But anyway...

...one night, after a concert, I remember we had a problem. The lead singer of The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Dicky Barrett, needed a ride to his hotel. Under his right arm, was his wife. Under the left? Some seemingly random chick. The problem? Pretty much everyone there was completely shitfaced - except me. So when they asked if anyone could/would do it, I raised my hand. In the span of five seconds, I imagined that the four of us would end up in my VW Beetle driving around Hartford in the middle of the night. I would drop them off and in a show of gratitude, Dicky would invite me up. And in my mind, it was highly probable we would all end up having sex in disgusting fashion. It was going to be awesome.

Not as awesome, though still pretty entertaining, is 2010's Get Him to the Greek. In limited action, Jonah Hill and Russell Brand were hysterical in the earlier Forgetting Sarah Marshall. But here, it seems they do less with significantly more screen time. In fact, in a weird trend, it's actually Sean Combs minor role as their boss Sergio, who provides most of the laughs. Though, let's be clear, if he gets his own spinoff movie, I'll likely take my own life. Well, after watching it, anyway.

Just in case someone out there doesn't actually know it, the setup is simple. In fact, it's summed up perfectly on Hill's right shoulder over there. The only thing they leave out is the fact that Brand's character, Aldous Snow, spends those 72 hours drowning in self-pity. Turns out, his last album was an utter trainwreck, featuring the ill-conceived single
African Child. Worse yet for Snow, in the ensuing bottoming out of his career, he lost his super hot girlfriend, Jackie Q (played by the delectable Rose Byrne [if you're a fan of hers, check this out from FTS - zoinks!]. There is a silver lining to being sans girlfriend, though, for both of them actually. I'll let you figure that one out.

You sure you can handle the disappointment?

My brother Nikos is visiting and we were talking the other day about how you don't really have to know how do anything anymore, you simply need YouTube. We compared lists.

                  Me:                                                                                       Him:
How to find the starter on a Jeep.                                   How to adjust the idle on a motorcycle carburetor.
How to clean an elephant-shaped air dehumidifier.       How to break a bike lock.
How good (or bad) is a certain camcorder is.                How to start a fire using a water bottle.
And probably the most pathetic, how to tie a tie.            How to generate electricity with fruit.

Clearly, I'm much cooler than he is. I mean, clearly. I kind of feel bad for the kid.
Anyway, even though it too is on there (I just checked), there's one thing I know I don't need YouTube for:

How to rob a bank.

Admittedly late to the party, I caught Fast Five the other day in an effort to get ready for the surprise smash sixth entry, currently in theaters. I'd heard good things, and the box office numbers are ridiculous, so doing a back-to-back was going to be the plan. But after spending over two hours with Dom and his crew on blu ray, I might just pump the breaks on that shit.

Obviously, you don't go into the fifth of anything expecting genius, let alone a Fast and the Furious flick, but the reviews and buzz were generally positive. Foolishly, I thought it was going to be all pink slips and tight clothes, but not so much. In fact, the only race where somebody gets a car as a result? Oh, that shit's implied. Oh, Fast Five. You so crazy.

Also crazy, is how much this movie is like a certain George Clooney film. Seriously. If the first one is a remake/reboot of Point Break, the fifth one gives Ocean's Eleven the same treatment. Both have giant, ensemble casts full of recognizable and not-as recognizable ethnically diverse faces. Both involve robbing some unlikable jerk in an impossibly complicated manner. And, surprising no one, both flicks rode this formula all the way to the bank.

They push me so far that...that I...I want to become the bully.

Though I still have a hard time believing it, school's out. Despite there being a couple of times I didn't think we would, we actually made it. Mission accomplished.

This year, for the first time in my career, I actually attended a graduation comprised of former students. Of the seventy two graduates, I taught six of them all the way back when they were eighth graders. And by eighth graders, obviously I mean awkward, bumbling, thirteen year-old kids, doggedly unaware of their actions. And as they walked (well, sauntered) across the stage as fledgling adults, I was consumed with two feelings. The first, not too shockingly, was pride. But the second? Relief. Overwhelming relief.

Bully, at least early on, absolutely destroyed me. The documentary opens with a father looking directly into the camera and detailing the events that led to the suicide of his young son, Tyler. For at least the first half of the film, this overwhelming sense of sadness and anger permeates every aspect of Bully. It can be pretty tough to watch at times...

....which is why I showed it as the end-of-the-year film in my English class. It was seven-eighths something they needed to see with a dash of maybe they'll actually be quiet and listen. And outside of the occasional verbal outburst, this film succeeded on both fronts.

Bully tells six separate stories of varying intensity, some more effective than others. Here's a quick rundown of the first four:

Tyler: Perhaps most grueling, this segment details the suicide of a seventeen year-old kid after years of bullying. Tyler's parents seek justice from the school board and the district to limited results.Their story anchors the documentary.

Alex: The face and star of Bully, this story evoked the biggest response from my students. See, Alex is a painfully awkward kid trying to navigate the treacherous waters of sixth grade in Iowa. He's presented as a shy kid, a real goofball, in desperate need of a friend. Sadly, Alex appears to confuse bullying with his friends messing around.

Close your eyes and think of something nice.

As a married man, sometimes I feel my life consists of me helplessly shuffling from one mistake to another. Some are careless, some have been well-meaning, and some I'm still not quite sure they were even mistakes in the first place.

The last time I rented a movie for my wife and I to watch? Turns out, it was a combination of all three. And I didn't even think that was able to occur.

I rented The Impossible knowing it was going to make me (well, us) cry. I'm a huge softy, I'll admit it. But while I genuinely like a two-hour emotional journey, it turns out my wife doesn't. At all. She watches movies to smile, laugh, relax and have a good time.

My bad.

While it completely devastated me like few films ever have, I am still going to recommend that everyone see this movie. The story is remarkably grueling, but so utterly incredible I was repeatedly left speechless. Unless you count the sobs of a grown man, of course, then I was quite the Chatty Cathy.

What amazed me, almost more than the actual story of this family somehow surviving the devastation of a tsunami, is how jarringly authentic everything feels. Sure, the performances are uniformly excellent (my God those kids were brilliant), but the scope and realism of the tsunami's devastation is what has continued to haunt me a week later. Truly incredible.

It could be the stench of death. Some people don't care for it.

Of all the injustices in the world, a few exist that are ripe for exploration in movies aimed at children.

Feeling alone and/or different.
Dealing with the loss of a loved one, usually a parent.
And to a lesser extent, having to discover love.

Certainly there are more, but these three seem to be at the core of every animated movie. Lately, it seems like there's another one we could add to the list, in pencil, perhaps: Protecting the environment.

Epic, the latest animated flick we brought the little guy to, combines all four of the previously mentioned mainstays into something decidedly average. Sure, it features an all-star cast! and looks absolutely stunning at times, but a week later, I dare you to remember any of it.

Allegedly combining key elements of Ferngully (never saw it) with Honey, I Shrunk the Kids (totally saw it), Epic tells the story of a battle continually being waged in the forest. Exciting, right? Well, not really. It's your typical good versus evil tale, just on a very small scale. Literally. Turns out, all this has been happening right under our pointy noses, as the forces at war are only visible through a magnifying class. If you're imagining Rick Moranis suspended over his yard, well, you weren't the only one apparently. The writers may be right with you there.

Anyway, for whatever reason, the Boggins (the bad guys), led by the evil Mandrake (Christoph Waltz!) have decided that they want to rule the forest forever by, um, destroying it. Solid plan. Anyway, standing in the way, is Queen Foxxy Cleopatra Tara and her army of bird-riding warriors. After some possibly traumatic things go down, severely-bummed teenager M.K (Amanda Seyfried) gets transported to this tiny world and burdened with the responsibility of, you guessed it, saving it. She's a reluctant hero, at best. But when the equal parts cocky and handsome Nod (Josh Hutcherson) shows up? Well, shucks. Might as well, like, save this forest thingy.

The drones watch everything.

Once upon a time, there was a sci-fi movie starring one of Hollywood's biggest stars. Even though the preview looked interesting, people seemed to be grumbling that the actor was past his prime. Apparently, he was no longer capable of opening a movie that wasn't a sequel of one of his long-running franchises. While I enjoyed the film enough, it didn't really make any lasting impact. But being the simpleton that I so obviously am, I was just happy to spend more time with a childhood hero. Here's the plot summary of that film, courtesy of imdb.

Futuristic action about a man who meets a clone of himself and stumbles into a grand conspiracy about clones taking over the world.

Oblivion is a much better film than the flick I referenced above, but I'm not sure I'd be willing to call it anything other than okay. I caught this theatrically at the last showing in my town (on May 15th) and unceremoniously fell asleep. I was the only one in the theater and despite fighting the good fight, I dozed in an out for probably the last hour (making the last forty minutes utterly incomprehensible). I left the theater pretty much clueless. Well, extra clueless.

To remedy my early onset of narcolepsy, and maintain the integrity (sequential and otherwise) of this ridiculous blog, I did something I never, ever thought I'd do: I turned to the Bay. Well, I didn't. But I know a guy...At least I paid for round 1.

Confession complete, let's get to it. Tom Cruise plays Jack (again), a well-meaning guy sent to what's left of Earth to maintain drones. See, our planet has been vacated after an alien force destroyed the moon, and consequently the Earth. The natural resources are being extracted by these massive machines and the drones make sure nothing impedes this. So far, everything's pretty cool.

Although the poster might lead you to believe that Jack is alone on Earth, thank the sweet Lord he isn't. Apparently, it's company policy that all drone repairmen also get stationed with an uber-hot British woman, who is forced to wear tight clothes and swim in the nude. Sign me up. Victoria, turns out, is more than just eye-candy. Her job is to corral Jack's curiosity, increasing the odds that the mission will be effective. An effective team, they are. Well, were.