Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Ape did this.

While this isn't news to anyone that knows me or somehow manages to frequent this site, but I'll watch anything. Really. But possibly even more telling, is that I will watch an entire film for one single moment. Yes, sometimes...that may have to do with a nude scene or something, um, salacious (was there another reason anyone saw Swordfish theatrically?), but generally if I hear something like, eh, it's oooookay, but there's this one part...I'm in. Say no more.

Sometimes, it could be as simple as a ridiculously good knife fight [here], or someone trying to shut a door in the wind [here]. Once,a personal favorite moment of ridiculousness,  it was someone throwing a f--king horse! [here] It can be the tiniest of things, but if great/horrible enough, it can make for something special.

But this time, man, this time. This time it's an ape. Ha, that's funny.
An ape riding a horse. Which is pretty cool.
Through fire. Oh shit, really?
While holding a machine gun. *pantomimes getting an erection*

In each hand. *actually dies*

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is good summer entertainment. It's not as mind-blowing as some might have you believe (um, despite what I just suggested) but it's filled with enough entertaining moments (and by moments, clearly I mean bits where apes do cool shit) that it should certainly satisfy fans of the original. Years ago, my wife reluctantly saw the first one and liked it. And this summer, she had a good time with this one, too. And if you can't trust a mother of two who's just happy to be not at home, who can you trust?

Actually, in the second flick of the reboot series, trust is going to be paramount. Years after Caesar initiated the primate revolution in the first flick [review], here we find him as he has settled into the role of wise leader, favoring diplomacy over fisticuffs. The humans, what little remain of them (after the simian flu wiped them the f--k out) need to do some work where the apes live (the foggiest hills on the planet), and even though they just recently shot an ape in the face, Caesar trusts that everyone will all be like little Fonzies, you know? Even that one shifty guy, with the rotten attitude and awful face, whose entire family was wiped out by those damn dirty apes. Even that guy's going to cool. Scout's honor.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Six Degrees of Separation: Blogathon

Okay, this one has been spreading like wildfire, but in a good way. Perhaps it's selling like hotcakes? Spreading like hotcakes? No. Definitely not that. Sounds weird...

Anyway, Nostra at My Film Views has created yet another inspired blogathon where bloggers are tasked with connecting two random cinematic figures in six (or less) steps. Apparently this is a thing that exists with or without Kevin Bacon, who knew?

Brittani, over at the seriously rad Rambling Film, has tasked me with connecting that handsome devil Leonardo DiCaprio to child star Shirley Temple. I wonder if Leo likes animal crackers, you know, in his soup? Hold on, I'll text him. In the meantime, this is how I've got it figured:

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Does this scenario ring any bells?

Nowhere else...
   ...would you basically have to get felt up/totally naked just to sit somewhere for an hour or two.
   ...would your 'seat' be considered an acceptable place to spend more than ten minutes.
   ...would seven pretzels be considered a snack, unless you still count your age in months old.
And absolutely nowhere else would you feel ecstatic by having a cold plastic wall to lean against (let alone being equally thrilled to not have that at all, but a place to extend one of your legs - occasionally).

But nowhere else is like an airplane. And up there? Logic is like a crying baby. You can bring it with you, but it's not really welcome.

In Non-Stop, Liam Neeson takes his special skill set to 30,000 feet, playing Bill Marks, Alcoholic Air Marshall. While basically any action film (starring an 8 foot tall, sixty-one year old Irishman, no less) may ask you carefully stow logic in the overhead cabin above you, Non-Stop pushes this request to new heights. Especially by the end. But along the way? Well, it's not only got just enough thrills to keep you interested, but it's got a frantic Neeson trying to do his job, dammit! And as far as I'm concerned, that's good enough for me.

The plot is simple: A passenger on board an overseas flight will be killed every twenty minutes, unless 150 million dollars is transferred to this account. The catch? The guy doing the killings is on the flight (well, sort of, anyway). That means that we're going to get a lot of close-ups of random ugly-ass guys, so someone in the room can point and say, Oh, it's totally that f--king guy. It's basically like the special education version of Clue. It's in the airplane, they're using the same weapon, and it ain't Col. Mustard. So, this shouldn't take long.

Fortunately, it's a little more difficult than that, only because this plane is filled to the brim with a record-level of suspicious-looking a-holes. Hell, even Julianne Moore can't escape scrutiny, as she inexplicably dons Brick Top's glasses and goes all Nancy Drew on us. It's a ludicrous, silly ride, but that's a good thing. What would you expect from a movie based on a plane called Non-Stop? Tender moments during an in-flight movie? F--k that. You want a hole in the fuselage, and at least one or two seats being sucked out, right? I mean, everybody does.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Which one of you nuts has got any guts?

I don't understand psychology. Not as a science, shit, nor even as a required college course (one of my only two C's ever was in my Intro to Psych class, though the professor was a huge bitch, literally, as I think she may have been just a hair under eleven feet tall). I don't understand discipline that is based on how people behave. My chief concern? Well, inherently, people are full of shit. Not just those exhibiting the behaviors, but those classifying them as well.

In 1975's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Jack Nicholson plays R.P. McMurphy, a hot-headed a-hole, who has seemingly schemed his way into the psych ward. Attempting to shirk work detail, McMurphy's plan is to hang out with some nutcases until his jail sentence is up. The rub? If he's not crazy - he's gotta go. But too crazy (Hell, just crazy enough)? He's in. Possibly forever.

You, being as cultured and handsome as you are, probably know everything about this movie. But for me, borderline illiterate and troll-like, I'm seeing this fresh forty-plus years after the fact. And obviously, I was blown away. Not only by Nicholson, who's as charming and crazy as they come, but by the story and the entire cast. It's f--king insane how good they are. Truly.

One of my favorite aspects of this film is the fact that it's almost impossible to classify. It damn near tight-ropes every genre. Clearly it's a drama, but with Jack steering the ship, there are comedic elements liberally sprinkled throughout. But, somewhat surprisingly, it also contains bits from heist movies, thrillers, buddy comedies, a little romance (here and there), and even a solid coming-of-age story as well. But simmering under all of that? Major aspects of classic horror flicks, complete with a menacing villain, as the reality of mental institutions is truly terrifying, even when the lights are on. It's no surprise to me that it's currently ranked as the fifteenth best movie ever by IMDb users, though their mental faculties are likely questionable at best.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Broken body's nothing to a broken heart.

We've talked about having another one. We have. And apart from the financial implications and the fact that we would never have our own lives, the main reason we hesitate is the What if... factor. What if there were complications? What if he/she was born with health problems? We've fortunately got two healthy, happy kids, already. What if something went wrong?

Obviously, everyone wants a healthy child, but why, in my mind anyway, is a disability akin to a death sentence? Why am I convinced that a good life can't be had? Oh, I know why - I'm a thoughtless, uncaring a-hole, too caught up in wanting everything just so. And as a Brown, I should know better...

In 1989's My Left Foot, Daniel Day Lewis plays Christy Brown, a real-life man born with cerebral palsy in the slums of 40's Dublin. The film chronicles the life of Brown from boyhood all the way to adulthood, when he published his autobiography in the mid 1950's. And while the life story of a man who could only control his left foot certainly had the potential of a feel good movie!, it would be hard to say that that's the direction this film went. It's dirty, it can be tough to watch, and it's not incredibly uplifting. But it's true, it's incredible, and it rather inspirational, too.

The determination (or some would say, stubbornness) that would serve Christy so well as an adult, was clearly forged early on. Seeing young Christy (brilliantly brought to life by Hugh O'Conor) pursue acceptance and worth (mainly from his dad) was equal parts harrowing and fascinating. I'm not sure of the exact number, but the Brown's seemingly had, hold on...carry the two...17,000 kids. Fine, my math may be suspect, but trust me, they had a lot. And somewhere in that mix of dirty faces is Christy. Laying in his little pen behind the stairs (think Harry Potter's room at Uncle Vernon's...but worse). In a word, this whole situation is f--ked.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Against the Crowd: BLOGATHON

Dell, who's been kicking lots of ass lately over at Dell on Movies, is hosting yet another interesting blogathon. The rules are simple:

1) Pick a movie that everyone loves. Piss all over it.

2) Pick a movie that everyone hates. Kiss it, stroke its hair. Whisper to it, it's going to be okay.

3) Something about tomatoes.
(for official rules here, the other participants here)


I don't want to rehash my original post [check it here], but I will reference it, as I will never watch this movie again. Overly long and mostly ridiculous, The Dark Knight Rises was supposed to be, in my mind, the greatest Batman movie ever. It isn't. It's not even in my top 5. I think the final act of this movie is about as bad as there is in a 'good' movie. I know everyone loves this this flick, but sweet Jesus, after The Dark Knight, this one falls woefully short. We might as well have had Bale strut around to a Bee Gees tune, you know? That would have made more sense than some of the decisions in Nolan's final film of the trilogy.

And if you're the kind of person who considers this flick the best move ever!, please, thoroughly search your utility belt for something you can f--king choke on, 'cause I don't want to hear it. Again, anyway.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Never know how your day is gonna turn out.

In Home Alone, it was used to aid in self-defense.
In Spider-Man, it gave Peter Parker his powers.
And in The Return of the King, it's yet another obstacle keeping Frodo from tossing the ring.

Nine times out of ten, I fully understand the role a spider plays in a given movie. But this? Well, this is that tenth time.

I don't even know what to truly make of Enemy, other then I loved every single minute of it. As routinely puzzling as it is, it's arguably the most consistently intriguing movie I've ever seen. In fact, it's so intense, my PS4 randomly ejected it halfway through and refused to accept it until almost twenty-four hours later. Maybe it was looking out for my fragile little mind, or maybe it's just really scared of spiders.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Adam Bell, a nice-enough history teacher, not exactly living the dream. He has a decent job, a fairly hot girlfriend (whom he routinely bangs), but not much else. One day, after a co-worker rather awkwardly recommends it, Adam watches a movie and is floored by what he sees. Playing Bellhop #3 is a man who looks exactly like him. Intrigued and moderately bewildered (he's a pretty level-headed dude, well, for the most part), Adam decides to search this man out.

And that's all I'm going to tell you. See the f--king movie. Then you can read more. Otherwise, don't click that shit below. Or I'll dress up like you, head to your house and go have sex with your girlfriend. Unless, you're a chick. Then, well...I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do.