That's a fugazi? How do you know it's a fugazi? You looked at it for two seconds.
Outside of a couple of autographs and a lone (seemingly minuscule but) shiny diamond, I've never really worried about any thing's authenticity. Love, words, imported DVD's? That's a different story. But as far as I'm concerned, if I think it's real, it's real. But sometimes, I get it.You just have to know, right? So, you go to a guy like Donnie, and you show him what you got. And hopefully he says it's real, and you're not a stupid asshole. But what if he is?
New to Redbox, but originally released in 2012, Gambit is a remake of an old Michael Caine flick from the 60's. This version, with a screenplay by Joel and Ethan Coen, retains and revives that goofy charm of long-dormant, old-school heist flicks.
Fifty years ago, movies featuring cat-burglars stealing some rich jerk's valuables to quirky jazz beats were seemingly a dime a dozen. Now? Not so much. And while there might be a good reason for that, after a moment of initial hesitation, I was all in for a revisit. My wife? She bailed halfway through in favor of designing a mousepad on Shutterfly. Speaking of shit that you never see anymore...
While the poster and the premise may make your head and genitals throb in disgust, the cast and the story will massage each with great vigor. Harry, a mild-mannered art curator (the always charming Colin Firth), concocts a clever scheme to rob his douchey boss Lionel (motherf--king Hans Gruber!) of twelve million pounds. The ruse? To sell Lionel a forgery of an oil-painting he has coveted for quite some time. But being that Harry can't just show up with the fake, he recruits small-time rodeo star PJ Puznowski (a miscast [though still very hot] Cameron Diaz), to claim that the masterwork has been in her family for years. Lionel will certainly buy whatever she's selling, but only once it's been authenticated.
Outside of a couple of autographs and a lone (seemingly minuscule but) shiny diamond, I've never really worried about any thing's authenticity. Love, words, imported DVD's? That's a different story. But as far as I'm concerned, if I think it's real, it's real. But sometimes, I get it.You just have to know, right? So, you go to a guy like Donnie, and you show him what you got. And hopefully he says it's real, and you're not a stupid asshole. But what if he is?
Fifty years ago, movies featuring cat-burglars stealing some rich jerk's valuables to quirky jazz beats were seemingly a dime a dozen. Now? Not so much. And while there might be a good reason for that, after a moment of initial hesitation, I was all in for a revisit. My wife? She bailed halfway through in favor of designing a mousepad on Shutterfly. Speaking of shit that you never see anymore...
While the poster and the premise may make your head and genitals throb in disgust, the cast and the story will massage each with great vigor. Harry, a mild-mannered art curator (the always charming Colin Firth), concocts a clever scheme to rob his douchey boss Lionel (motherf--king Hans Gruber!) of twelve million pounds. The ruse? To sell Lionel a forgery of an oil-painting he has coveted for quite some time. But being that Harry can't just show up with the fake, he recruits small-time rodeo star PJ Puznowski (a miscast [though still very hot] Cameron Diaz), to claim that the masterwork has been in her family for years. Lionel will certainly buy whatever she's selling, but only once it's been authenticated.
