I get it ladies. I do. And I don't think there's anything to be ashamed of. In fact, as long as I can remember, I knew there was something a little bit different about me. Yep. It's true.
I love dicks.
Especially the handsome pair featured in Shane Black's consistently hilarious 2016 comedy, The Nice Guys. Criminally under-seen and brimming with one great bit after another, Ryan Gosling and Russell Crowe knock it out of the f--king ballpark. If it's not the outright funniest movie of the year, it's pretty damn close.
Los Angeles in the late seventies was a pretty gnarly mix of sex, drugs and rock n' roll. And pornography. Somewhere way down from the bright lights of the Hollywood sign, we find two rival private detectives, Jackson Healy (Crowe, kicking ass) and Holland March (Gosling, also kicking ass) balls deep in unsavory types, you know, deplorables. Healy's the type of guy that's going to talk with his fists, while Holland's more likely to talk out of his ass. When unforeseen circumstances force these two together, things go from pretty f--king funny, to no, no. I just spilled my drink in my lap. (and yes, I just happened to be drinking piss).
Crowe plays the strong, silent type as well as he ever has, but surprising no one, Gosling is the real star of the show. March is more or less a total piece of shit, but he's an insanely likable turd that we can root for rather easily. Combining his total lack of scruples as a detective with his efforts to be a responsible single father, elevate the character (and the film) to something beyond what you'd typically expect from a buddy-cop flick. Oh, and he never utters a bad line....ever.
I love dicks.
Los Angeles in the late seventies was a pretty gnarly mix of sex, drugs and rock n' roll. And pornography. Somewhere way down from the bright lights of the Hollywood sign, we find two rival private detectives, Jackson Healy (Crowe, kicking ass) and Holland March (Gosling, also kicking ass) balls deep in unsavory types, you know, deplorables. Healy's the type of guy that's going to talk with his fists, while Holland's more likely to talk out of his ass. When unforeseen circumstances force these two together, things go from pretty f--king funny, to no, no. I just spilled my drink in my lap. (and yes, I just happened to be drinking piss).
Crowe plays the strong, silent type as well as he ever has, but surprising no one, Gosling is the real star of the show. March is more or less a total piece of shit, but he's an insanely likable turd that we can root for rather easily. Combining his total lack of scruples as a detective with his efforts to be a responsible single father, elevate the character (and the film) to something beyond what you'd typically expect from a buddy-cop flick. Oh, and he never utters a bad line....ever.
