Klaatu barada nikto.

Ah, 1951, I remember you well. You were the year that Bobby Thomson hit the shot heard 'round the world. You were the year the pill was invented (jackpot!). Oddly enough, you were also the year my father turned one. More importantly, you were the year that The Day the Earth Stood Still was released into theaters.  Gee Mister, has it really been 60 years? Holy Mackerel! (that's the last 50's style dialogue, promise)

Gort has awesome pants.

So, my wife is out of town for the next five days (stripper convention/extra-marital affair, according to my friends). It's just me and my two-year old son. While he naps, I'm trying to watch short, quiet movies. Literally, The Day the Earth Stood Still is only movie I currently own that's both. Brushing aside the also-included remake starring "Ted" Theodore Logan, I decided to give the old-school version a spin.

So many movies today get by on their special-effects alone. I like cool-looking fake-shit as much as the next guy (but if you ever, ever call special-effects 'graphics' - you deserve to have your balls ripped off in front of a green screen), but heading back sixty years will mean that any real enjoyment out of this one will have to come from the story.

Not surprisingly, this movie rules. Michael Rennie, who plays Klaatu, is awesome. He's this great mix of courteous, genius and mysterious. His relationship with the kid, Bobby (of course), is a bit on the creepy side, as is his robot sidekick, Gort. But somehow, he's still quite charming (even though he is threatening to destroy the planet). Maybe it's his space diamonds. Or, maybe it's his leading-man hair. Either way, I love him.

Some moments of awesomeness:

Storm Shadow + Michael Jackson = This outfit.

• The 30 minutes the earth loses all power? Great! Times square at a standstill? Creepy. Lady trying (unsuccessfully) to make a milkshake?  Horrifying!
• The immediate shooting of Klaatu upon arrival to Earth (he was offering a gift)
• Gort's off screen ass-kicking!
• You can see the strings!

THE ULTIMATE AWESOMENESS: The phrase Klaatu barada nikto was totally stolen in Army of Darkness. I never knew that. I'm now smarter than like, six other people.

If your vagina is anything like my hand...there will be no problem.

I loved Pineapple Express. Frickin' loved it. Now, I've never met anyone who shares the adoration for that film like I do, but it doesn't matter. I laughed out loud. Repeatedly. So, when I saw the trailer for last night's film, Your Highness, I thought to myself; it will be mine. Oh yes. It will be mine.

By the time I die, I will have had two of those three hairstyles. Damn you, genetics. Damn you.

If only the Minotaur was on the poster.

I bought this on blu-ray along with Paul. I wanted to see both theatrically, but unless it's summertime, that's going to be a bit of a stretch. Anyway, I started with Your Highness because I figured I'd keep the Natalie Portman train rolling. I'm still kind of shocked that she appeared in this (on the heels of an Oscar, no less), but she is awesome as always. And super, super-hot. Goodness. So, you have that.

What you also have is a lot of Danny McBride. I think this guy is pretty funny, but his schtick is basically this: he's a dick, he's selfish, and he curses all the time. He begins the film as the world's biggest douche, but unsurprisingly, ends it being the Man. Predictable? Yes. But it was fun along the way.

One thing that surprised me though, were the action and adventure sequences. They were badass. The escape on horses, the Hand Monster-thing, and all the battles against Leezar and his Mothers (who basically shoot proton beams from Ghostbusters) were very well done (the budget was around $50 mil). You'd expect the action to be an afterthought, but it wasn't.

One last thing. What I found particularly hilarious, was the treatment of their servant, Courtney. There is so little regard for him throughout - it's great. The response he gets when he tells them it's his birthday almost made me choke. Oh, and when you can call someone a dickless traitor and it's true on all accounts, you've got yourself a winner! And if you don't laugh at Thadeous' necklace at least once, you have no soul. None.

That was me seducing you. It needs to be the other way around.

One of the best ballet movies ever.

Remember that time your coach told you to go home and touch yourself? You were unsure, but you did it. With vigor. And then you realized your own mother was in the room, sleeping in a chair! That was so crazy! Wait. That wasn't you. That was Natalie Portman in last year's Black Swan. My bad.

Seriously, I don't know what to make of this one. I know it's critically acclaimed. I know that Natalie Portman won Best Actress. I know that director Darren Aronofsky is a frickin' genius. Got all that. I also know that I was slightly, just slightly, bored. 

Don't get me wrong, there is some creepy stuff here that certainly bothered my wife (though she's a total lightweight). Nina's descent into reaching the dark side of her self was an alluring mix of grotesque and sexual (couple of pretty hot moments in both regards). Groovy. But where it all lost me was the presentation. 70% of screen time is Natalie Portman's head. Either an extreme close-up of her always uncomfortable face, or the back of it as she walked hurriedly from room-to-room (almost video game-esque). I guess it's intimate and almost documentary-style, but for me, it grew tiresome. Oh, and never once did I buy Nina as an elite ballerina. She seemed to lack the confidence that someone at that level would likely exude. Whatever.

Damn it. I think I'm wrong about this film. I enjoyed the crazy shit a lot (the weirder stuff, not the mirror hijinks). The performances were outstanding as well. But for whatever reason, it just didn't resonate with me. Maybe I need to watch it again. At least all the scenes in her bedroom, as I'm not sure I understood those. Coach would want me to.

Charlie, here comes the deuce. And when you speak of me, speak well.

Susan Sarandon has been old my entire life.

I love baseball. I love movies. Shouldn't be too much of a stretch to say that I love baseball movies, too. I do, but I don't think I've seen enough good ones. Prior to tonight, I would say that my favorite baseball flick was Major League. I might cast a vote for The Sandlot as well, but that's it. I think.

Tonight's movie, 1988's Bull Durham was another classic that I've managed to not see in over twenty years. How is this possible, you (don't) ask? I refuse to watch movies on television. Refuse.

That nonsense aside, I enjoyed about 95% of this one. Crash Davis and Nuke LaLoosh don't trump Ricky Vaughn and Willie Mays Hayes, but they give it a good ride. Watching a flick like this for the first time, I saw clips and scenes that have been played in stadiums forever. Costner has most of them: his speech about 'the show,' his tipping of upcoming pitches, and even his improvised rain out. All awesome. My favorite scene however, was his ejection on the play at the plate. Never saw that one on the ol' Jumbotron. Probably because it's too long to show between pitches. Or, maybe, it's because of the liberal use of the term, um, c---sucker. One of those.

Standing room only in Durham.

The movie stalled at the times when things get serious. Luckily it's not for too long, but the drama drags it down nonetheless. I also never, ever bought Tim Robbins as someone who could throw in the upper 90's. I know that's nitpicking, but seriously, I think my 2 year-old son has a better delivery when he's whipping shit all over our house. Oh, and what to say of Susan Sarandon's character, Annie? Is she hot? Is she old? Is she a man? Is she a hot, old man? Too many questions, I know. But somehow, I feel like I want to answer yes to all of them.

By the way, I found a list of all the baseball movies ever made at baseballmovie.com. Take a look and let me know what you think is the best one. And, no, There's Something About Mary doesn't count, no matter how awesome Warren is.

Do me a favor. Pull the trigger.

Do you recommend movies to your friends? I actually, try not to. At least in person, anyway. I always stress that I liked it. That's it. Here's a snippet of text between me and a friend from the other day.  Riveting.

Haspe: Have u ever seen 'Harry Brown.' Starring Michael Caine??
Haspe: This dude at the gym keeps telling me to watch it.
Me: No. It's a British gangster movie, right?
Haspe: I think so. The dude recommending it is this hilarious Cajun. Total character. But all he says is "dat movies rough man. Ain't nuthin nice about it. Rough."

I remember when I was a kid, we used to spend an hour in the video store trying to figure out what we wanted to watch (theatrically, we just saw everything). Recommendations might come from the clerk, or we'd just go with the coolest/lamest cover. Once, some doucher whole-heartedly recommended this. Goodness. Anyway, now, things are different. Now, you might hit up a trusted website (or a genius movie-blog). Or, you might get a text from 5,000 miles away, referencing what was more-than-likely a half-naked Cajun man. You know, that old story.

Pulling a knife on Harry? Bad move, brotha.

This guy's boss is record-setting creepy. Yeesh.

So was Foghorn Leghorn right about Harry Brown? Yes. This movie is rough. The opening scene is actually one of the more horrible things I've seen in quite some time. The home-video quality makes it much more chilling. Much.

The violence is shockingly effective. You have Michael Caine (who is just awesome, right? Like, Duvall-esque) as your star, so you think things like might be a little classy. Not so much. When people get it, it's fairly hardcore. Blood spurts. A lot. Unfortunately, it's of the CGI-variety, so in some scenes it looks great, while others it looks like The Expendables. Whatever. It gets the job done.

Did you see Taken? Very similar story here. One man, who is a former badass-mofo, wants to live the quiet life. Someone loved by that man gets mistreated. Man has to make wrongs right. With unflinching force. If you like that formula, you will like Harry. I did. The interrogation scene was so well done, I actually became bloodthirsty myself. But instead of killing someone, I just had some juice. And watched Harry methodically annihilate those British hoodlums. An added bonus is that you get to hear Michael Cain talk for an hour and forty minutes. That's so good, it's even great when somebody else does it. Or two people.

One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach....all the damn vampires.

I was born in 1979. That means that the movies of my youth, for the most part, are going to be teeming with synthesizers, head bands and one or both of The Coreys. Like most kids of that era, my favorites range from bona fide classics such as  Gremlins ('84 - my first favorite movie) and The Goonies ('85), down to more niche movies like Rad ('86) and The Monster Squad ('87). One movie that somehow managed to elude me was 1987's vampire-flick, The Lost Boys. How could I have missed this for so long?

Jack Bauer's embarrassing senior portrait.

Frankly, I have never really cared for vampire movies. What's the best one? Interview with the Vampire? Bram Stoker's Dracula? Old school Nosferatu (1922!)? I don't think I have seen any of these in their entirety. My favorite two vampire flicks would probably be Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Kristy Swanson? Yes, please) and Blade (or the sequel). Yeah, I just admitted that.

Despite my bias, I really enjoyed The Lost Boys. I know, who cares almost 25 years later...but that's a testament to the movie's worth. It's still good. Yes, it's low-budge. There are almost no special effects (or on-screen killings!) whatsoever. The dialogue can be cheesy and dated. And, yes, Corey Haim routinely looks like he's wearing my mom's clothes. Oh, the worst offense? They go to this concert early on, and I swear, it's a shirtless, (and amazingly sweaty) Shawn Michaels just destroying a saxophone. Really.

I'm on the fence with the music. The creepy choir-thing was cool, but maybe a bit...overused.

Dorks. They look like a couple of dorks.

All the aforementioned terribleness is offset by a great cast and memorable characters. Kiefer Sutherland is as awesome as his mullet. Jason Patric, who would make a beautiful woman, is solid as the conflicted older brother. Corey Haim finds the right mix of annoying kid and ass-kicking goofball. Bill S. Preston, Esq. even makes an appearance, and that makes every movie better. Let's not forget about the Frog Brothers, either. They pretty much rule with how ridiculously hardcore they are in every frame. And any movie that has a dog basically jumpkick a vampire into a tub of garlic and holy water is okay by me. And everyone, apparently. If you too somehow missed it, check it out. Even if you already have, watch it again. It doesn't um, wait for it...suck. High five on that one! Anyone? No? Screw you guys. 

Drew, you had just left the bar when I saw her...my midget princess.

You know how Amazon decides what you like? It uses your search history and suggests things you may want to buy. Right now it always recommends that I buy blu-rays and baby food, but there was a time when it repeatedly suggested I buy the book I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. While I find Amazon to be extremely persuasive at times, I never bit. I have a thing where I don't read books if there's already a movie. I know the book is always better but I, like you, have only so much time (though this blog may clearly suggest otherwise). Which leads me to...

I hope they serve Dr. Pepper.

...the low-budget 2009 comedy, you guessed it, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. It's been years since I've seen a low-budge, independent flick, but sometimes, you gotta change it up.

All the staples are here. Lame alt-rock soundtrack? Check. Acting that can actually hurt your face? Big check. Long-winded speeches that only happen in independent movies? 10-4. But if you can get through all of the above and the first 30 minutes or so, you might like this one. Honestly, the opening scene had me thinking WTF? Then the movie started rolling along and I was left thinking just F.

Somehow though, things started to change. I actually got into it. This is made significantly more challenging because the main character is possibly the biggest prick ever. He's like Christian Bale in American Psycho minus the dog-killing and general awesomeness. You will hate this guy. Factor in that this is based on a true story and you may ask yourself, "Is anybody this big an a-hole?" Or, "How is he not murdered?"

Gray Shirt? Totally from Bring It On. Not that I've seen it six times.

If you can make it to the climax of the film, be warned. It will make you want to throw up in your mouth. Think of the toilet scene in Dumb & Dumber and triple it. Or something. I can't unsee it. It's like the worst toilet in Scotland. What's truly great is it's as funny as it is deserved. And it's played extremely well.

The conclusion is predictable, but ultimately satisfying. I was surprised at how much I was vested in these jag-offs. If you happen to catch this one, and twenty minutes in you smash your fist through the screen and curse my name, that's fair. But if you stick around, you might be surprised. Just sayin'...

Unrelated, but amusing. A woman I work with was detailing her pre-marriage dating-life to me and she said, "Yeah, I was like, collecting dicks." That imagery is pure magic.

Suitable for framing.

Double feature! Okay, not really, but last night my wife and I finished two movies off the DVR. Don't scroll down and read about the other one. Seriously, avert your eyes. The second flick, was 2009's A Perfect Getaway. Why bother with this one when we've got True Grit and Black Swan just sitting there in the DVR? Blame my upbringing.

I used to wait tables in Hawai'i. Killing tourists seemed reasonable.

I was raised on the Big Island of Hawai'i. Living there? Never impressed me. In fact, it bored me. I couldn't wait to leave. Now that I've been gone close to a decade, I desperately want to go back. Instead of selling my body to finance trips (might take awhile), I reminisce by catching flicks that take place in the islands. Basically, that means watching a few minutes of 50 First Dates whenever it's on TNT, but whatever - you get me. I had heard some good things when this was released, but my wife was super pregnant at the time. Lame.

That's a young Thor in the middle.

It's been awhile since I have seen a movie where I had to figure out who the killer was. Uh...Scream 4 was probably the last one I can think of (I forget already). Anyway, that's your job here and it's a decent ride, I suppose. The problem is that there are only three possible answers. One seems too obvious from the get go, so it becomes a coin toss. I won't ruin the surprise for you, but I don't think it's a real brain-buster.

In the movie, she's naked. No lie.

That said, this movie may have a little bit of The Sixth Sense going for it. When you get to the end, you might want to immediately watch it over again to see if everything holds up. You also might want to kill yourself from all the eye-rolling you've been doing. I was in the middle. I was curious, but also a bit disappointed (it spirals into madness in the last 15 minutes).

What I wasn't bummed about, was the sweet Cool Hand Luke references. Having just watched that one, I felt pretty cool catching them (probably how smart people feel when they solve a problem). Oddly enough my father-in-law threw out a Luke line at dinner the other night as well. Nuts. I guess it's like I always say: Paul Newman makes everything better. Okay, I've never said that. You got me, okay? Jeez. You're a real jerk.

I can't be in menopause and in coach.

This is what happens when you find a stranger in the Alps!

Two things. No, wait. Four things. One, I've never seen an episode of the show. Never. Two, I genuinely enjoyed the first Sex and the City movie. Three, I'm not gay. Married? Yes. Love dudes? No. Four, I hated this movie. If this movie was walking down the street I would punch it in the face. Twice.

I know I'm not the target demographic. I get it. As I'm typing this I have the screen split. Left side = this review. Right side = Sox vs. Royals (Sox are up 6-1 in the 8th, in case you're wondering). Still, I can handle a good chick flick. Sex and the City 2 is not a good flick, period. The acting can be laughable, the plot absurd, but worst of all is the script. You almost expect each actress to turn to the camera and give a Fonzie-style ayyyyyyyyyyy after delivering one of their countless groan-inducing lines (one of which I've featured in the title...).

Oh and special mention to the ridiculous costumes and dresses our lovely foursome are often clad in. Does high-fashion have to mean that you look like a space-hooker from the 80's? And who the Hell wears a gown in their house? I know that it's part of the charm (I guess) but it made me want to fight them. Especially Cynthia Nixon.

Final Note: The Gods literally did me a solid here. We recorded this one on the DVR during a rainstorm and I guess the signal kept cutting out (oh, DishNetwork sucks hard, by the way). So we'd be watching and it would say PARTIAL SIGNAL LOSS and just skip ahead. Maybe we'd miss 10 seconds, maybe 10 minutes. Who knows/who cares? I'm calling this a victory, though I do fully concede that you shouldn't pass judgement on a movie you haven't seen entirely. Unless it stars Cynthia Nixon.
Final Note #2: My brother once told me about a time he was playing charades with some family friends. He selected Sex and the City as the phrase he needed to act out. He immediately became flustered. Seeing this, they offered up their teenage daughter as assistance. "Use Lindsey! She can help you!" Yeesh.
Extra Credit: For the bathtub scene. Not worth seeing due to, but it might soften the blow if you have to.