Easy A

I always saw eye to eye with Reese from Malcolm In the Middle when he said “no matter how easy an A is, a D is always easier”. So when I saw this movie on the shelve I thought to myself, hey you should be studying, but I think this may be relevant to you in some form, facet or function. So here I am preparing for further procrastination masqueraded as work.

What is it with rust headed witty high school girls in the media? I call it “Daria Syndrome”. I mean Juno was pregnant with it, I mean… fuck it, and I’m keeping the pun. Now we have Easy A, which thankfully has a far more enduring protagonist. I think what makes this movie a fiction, and many more in its genre, is the fact that a girl this edgy, cool and attractive is not popular in some form or another.

The literary reference to The Scarlet Letter in the title is great, hey I can even go on about how every character is well portrayed, they even have the illusion of a third dimension. I could even tell you how the story spirals deeper and deeper into intrigue in such a way that you find yourself haplessly drawn into it. I almost forgot how the movie tackles adolescent identity construction within a society that takes to rumors like /b/ takes to memes about Boxxy, with pose and an interestingly fresh perspective. But these are things you will probably find out for yourself when you copy this movie from a friend’s hard drive and watch it after you’re bored of porn or can’t get past the boss in [insert game you’re playing]. But you want to hear some of the problems now don’t you.

There is one huge, and I mean massive, gripe I have with this movie. In an conteporary Highschool one girl has sex and it’s a national event almost, as though no one in that school has ever had sex, come on. I get what they were stabbing at but really, that kind of thing happens far too much for this to be more than a momentary problem, unless I went to sleep last night and have now awoken in Prudes-Ville. I know it’s not much but I’ve had a good week so I am not quite brimming with latent rage.

Overall the movie is recommendable if taken with half a cup of salt and maybe a hand-job. But really watch it. Or just re-watch Daria, but not Juno.
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Love and Other Impossible Pursuits

Before I even watch this movie I sift through my list of “enjoyed movies”, I come to realize there are quite a few of them that star Natalie Portman. But looking at the cover makes me think I may not enjoy this movie as much as her other screen performances. Only time will tell, 98 minutes to be exact.

Well, the movie was good, in the way Indian food that makes you shit embers is good. Even though the acting is great-ish, and the narrative will take you on a roller-coaster of love, loss and anything else you would expect from a heartstring plucking movie that has the word love and a picture of a kid on the front cover. It has infidelity, pregnancy, a dead baby and its resulting heart ache, divorce, re-marriage and in and amongst it all a lonely kid. So if you are planning to rent this movie, think carefully, read the lady well because this movie will either get you soppy make-outs or an early night with Vaseline and a dishcloth called Miley Cyrus. I mean the story just keeps piling on tragedy after tragedy. After a while you can’t help but sit back and think “really, I mean more, but wait… oh no there’s even more”. It gets to such a point of deep emotional desolation, then in steps a montage and makes a turn for the better. Proof again that a montage trumps all else as a narrative device. I can just see it now, a company offering life changing montages. “Do you need to build a house, have a montage? You know that term paper that due tomorrow, have you tried a montage?” Everything else I the movie is explored in painful details but the healing, the getting better, that’s mere frames and moments. The personal growth was trivialized; as a result I was robbed of a satisfying catharsis. The end is like a Tiny Hello Kitty cupcake, cute but unsatisfying. I know the movie only has a limited amount of time to present the story to us, but I felt cheated. Was going to make a few orgasm jokes, but I think I have sufficiently covered my disappointment, and if you respond by saying, “that’s what she said”, I will reach out from this text and bitch-slap you across your troll-fag face. Just saying. If anyone is looking for me, I’ll be watching the Short Film intro for The Darjeeling Limited by West Craven called Hotel Chevalier. All I am saying is, Natalie Portman, nude, Booya.

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Tangled

Right. I am at work; it’s quiet, so I think to myself, why not pop in Tangled and see what it’s all about. There have been a myriad of fairytale reinterpretations, and surprisingly I have enjoyed quite a few of them. I wonder, will I face-palm, laugh, or leave sporadically for a smoke, hoping that the inescapable fear of impending cancer numbs me to the horror that is the film transpiring before my eyes.

And play. Yay, this DVD has fast play... Boo, trailers. Yes Disney, I get it, Blue-ray is just so much better, thanks for reminding my lower middle class ass that I can’t afford to watch your movies in all their intended glory.

Finally the movie
Wow, their 50th animated motion picture, and the narrator gives us a very American Beauty style declaration of death and tons of for shadowing. I might just end up enjoying the movie. A Hot blond, a cynical narrator, Stockholm syndrome, this might not be all bad. Hold on, this is Disney, something is missing. That’s right, singing about mundane events.
Ten seconds into meeting the narrator and I wish I was locked in a tower, waiting to be rescued. He’s so edgy and cool.
Is it me or is the evil witch who captured Rapunzel, well, aesthetically considered what is quint essentially Jewish. “Stay with mama, mama knows best”…. I so don’t hear a stereotype at all, do you?
Okay, the narrator is a self-absorbed prick, but I smell personal growth. Besides the movie has some great comical timing. Actually, the comical timing is rather fantastic.
PS: Go horse!
I am getting quite wrapped up in this movie; I’ll get back to you when it’s done.

[Insert rest of the movie’s events here]

Cheesy end credit music aside, I thoroughly enjoyed that movie, which I must admit, I did not intend to. As far as the creative use of hair, we have Indiana jones hair, bondage hair, ladder hair, hammock hair, ninja rope hair, swing-across-caverns hair, glow-when-I-sing hair, glow-makes-me-young hair, super-healing hair and color changing hair. Let me recap some of my favorite moments. The notion that Boys make girls disobey their mothers who are in fact trying to keep them hostage in order to maintain their own youth through their daughters. Yip, it makes sense. A choir of Grotesque thugs singing about their very non-masculine dreams that is so made of win I dare say it challenges Gaston’s barroom melody. No, really, I watched it three times in a row and laughed harder every time. Then there’s the characters strange awareness of the ridiculousness of the plot and its events. Over all I would say, watch this movie.

Now it’s time for the fun part, the rant. Don’t you just love the genetic determinism in Disney movies? Even though Rapunzel was raised by a witch in complete social isolation, constantly bombarded by tails of the outside world’s evil, she remained joyous, free spirited, well-adjusted and caring, In summary, epitomizing the ideal characteristics of a princess. Oh, but she’s bare foot, so she’s obviously down to earth and approachable, and not at all conceited, which they actually did a good job of characterizing but still, I mean really, don’t think we don’t see you for the foot fetishists you are Disney. *mumble, mumble, glass slipper, mumble*
Her hair so does not stay the same length… a petty gripe I know but I’m just warming up.
I knew there was this one thing that really made my skin crawl, what was it? That’s right; Rapunzel’s flash back to a moment as a baby, in full color, lying in a cot with the king and queen doting on her. I could believe the dog like horse wielding a sword; I could believe the sentient cummelian; but as far as a narrative cop out goes, that was just weak. I can almost imagine the writers sitting in a conference room with a pile of junk food, many cups of coffee and mountainous ashtrays, trying to figure out how she realizes that she is in fact the princess. Then, let’s call him Rape-Face-Tony, pipes up with a little jem like, “Hey, this is for kids right, and their not all that smart, right. Let’s just throw in a flash back, queue a confrontation and we can all go back to our hotel rooms and have fun with the underage hookers we have waiting for us”. To summarize in classic internet terminology, “epic face-palm”.
Also landing on the horse from a twenty story drop should have rendered him infertile and induced earth shattering pain. On the topic of horses, how did the horse call the thugs, and am I the only one would realized that as the chief of the guards he accepts bribes.

Honestly, from my perspective, the flaws of the movie were overshadowed by my enjoyment. In a time of great cynicism, critiques and hipsterism, sometimes is nice to just let your hair down and enjoy a movie with the illegitimate children you have tied up in the basement. I was hoping the imagery would distract from the horrible pun.

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The Tourist

I don’t think this movie even deserves a rant. It reeks of M Night Shyamalan. The end twist is so predictable it was painful to watch the movie until the end. What is it with Angelina Jolie and silly spy movies with convoluted twists and betrayals? Don’t bother wasting your time with this one. And yes, the guy who protests to not be the guy, is in fact the guy. Wow, you say, really. I know right, what a twist. If I wasn’t spending the time playing solitaire while the movie was on I would say it was a waist of my time. Who am I kidding; it was a complete waste of my time. I was at least hoping for a shot of Jolie’s tits, but no such luck. That would have at least made the movie bearable. If you will excuse me I am going do something more productive, like stick knitting needles in my urethra

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Twelve: Reasons you should not watch this movie

1) Fifty Cent is in the cast. Now I am not saying because a movie has a popular, and I use this term very lightly, artist in it it’s going to be bad, Justin Timberlake proved that. However, if we are to look at his previous forays in to other forms of consumable media, well they all blow more chunks than a bulimic who just downed a bottle of ipecac.

2) Fifty Cent’s bare ass humping an underage white virgin who is giving her body to the drug dealer for a hit. Now the ass I could handle, I sat through Bear City and Another Gay Movie without flinching once, but when coupled with such an atrocious cliché that fell out of a poorly written underground rap ballad, then I start to get a bit queasy

3) The narrator, who sounds familiar but I dare not look up his name, out of the morbid fear that I loose control of my kicking foot and it goes on a violent ball breaking spree. Honestly I can’t blame him for sounding so atrociously out of place that it induced violent shudders and a strong desire to be spooned by Carmen Electra instead of the brechtian vervreemdend effect. I blame the casting directors, who I fear may be women, another fact I was too bored to bother looking up, because then I could not punch them in their testicles.

4) The flashbacks, although only presenting the salient elements of the memories, which is in fact a clever way of presenting them, seemed a bit out of place for the more recent memories and eventually just felt cheap and lazy. It’s like the movie rocked up at a hippy party stoned with a tie dye shirt, leather pants, biker jacket and metal studs hollering “look at me, I’m arty but edgy but gritty but insightful and that makes me cool”. No, it makes you a schizotypal douchebag.

5) The premise, oh the premise. It’s a disjointed concoction that has elements of Catcher In The Rye, Requiem for a Dream, and many other clichés I struggle to recall due to my hangover. It feels like a middle class kid’s idea of what it’s like to be rich, but be hard and still have sufficient loss and suffering to justify their brooding disposition. This it does not pull off in the slightest. That’s it, the script writer is so going on my “to kick in the balls” list.

6) Cancer mom. The movie tries to present in the bleakness of her illness as juxtaposed to the memory of her by providing an angelic veil. This should make her enduring and tug at our little hearts as they weep “oh so sad, but oh, look how beautifully he remembers her suffering”. The actual result was me having a spit-take with my Mountain Dew and laughing at the creepy half alien creature comical represented on the screen. Maybe it’s a reason to in fact see the movie, but when the failure is taken in to context, it just makes the movie look cheap.

7) The hottest chick in school, because, well, she really is not that hot. I know I may have a strange taste in women, as well as recreational drugs, but come on guys, stand with me on this one. She isn’t all that, least of all a bag of chips. I mean, she’s okay, but nothing that would cause the entire campus to buckle at her whims. She must have some hidden talent that, many moons ago, robbed her of her gag reflex.

8) Its directed by the pice of T-rex poo who put nipples on Batman, Joel Shoemaker

9) The parties are silly

10) The character development is as believable as the story about me, the three FHM models and the crazy drug fueled orgy that lasted three days and four nights

11) I found throwing a ball against a wall and catching it more enthralling than the movie I was supposed to be watching.

12) I spent over six hundred and fifty words telling you not to.

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Inception- psychology with guns, *sigh*

If you want details on the actors, directors or silly motives, go wiki the movie. This is a rant, and trust me, rant I firkin shall. So we have a movie were people go into each other’s dreams. Oh, there is no explanation as to how exactly this happens all we know I that there is a strange device in a suitcase and bang, we all dream together. Yeah that makes sense. I mean seriously, the science and psychology in this movie is so soft I spread it on my toast this morning for breakfast. That’s not my big gripe with the movie, inexplicably machines that let people do weird and wonderful things is part and parcel with the sci-fi genre. It gives story tellers the space to tackle with interesting and complex elements of humanity, to answer the integral elements of existence, and in this case, they use guns. Wait what. That’s right, give a great idea to an American and all of a sudden the negotiation of the subtle intricacies of the human mind turns into a gun fight. I feel like I am swimming in a sea of absolute silly here. I rather liked the idea of covert mind spies that enter into the preconscious (yes, that’s the right term) and extract information by laying carefully set mazes for the mind. However all that gave the movie was cool sets to blow up in expensive ways. Co much could have been done with the creation of a world for the intention of tricking the mind. But all they did was go, um, deeper into another dream. I really am trying hard to take this seriously, you can tell right. Why then does everything still to some degree still look normal? I would think the deeper into the mind one goes the further one is from the symbolic representation of existence and the closer one gets to pure, blind drives and repressed desires that are incomparable to the conscious psyche. By the third dream state the world should look like it was spewed from the LSD addled brain of Salvador Dali and Picasso’s bum baby. The problem is that the basic idea of the movie is so brilliant, but instead of being a strong suspense based psychological drama were the creative wit of many defeats the psychological defences of an individual, lots of guys get shot. And the ending; I am not even going to justify it with a well deserved insult. Just watch the movie so together we can go, “oh come on really, this what you did with the concept. Aren’t you edgy and cool? Douche bags.”

She Held Me at Pen Point

Now, I may be a lot biased dew to the fact that this artist is giving me a drawing of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman that is so stupidly amazing that every time I remember it I am forced to smile, which does much harm to my hardcore cynical image. That aside, Prints of Kathleen Sawyer’s work will very soon be available for purchase, so you too can own a little bit of awesomeness. Her work is that strange mix of photo realism, strewn across subtly macabre fantasy with a soft blend of beauty and horror that sparks the sublime. I suggest that you take a look at her work in far greater detail as my description does it no justice. You’ll find her work at http://katsaw.deviantart.com/gallery/

Go to it and love it or else small goblins will come to your house while you sleep, take your DNA, splice it with the DNA of Carrot-Top, and when you have kids, they will switch your babies with the half Carrot-Top mutant babies. Is that what you want, is it?

Welcome

Ah, good day too all those that have come first are have found their way to the bottom of the entire dreadfulness that brought you here. What I have done, or am about to do with this page is scratch around, find things in the world that so offend or delight me, that I have no choice but to dispense all my views and thoughts like excrement onto my keyboard and hopefully into your monitors. Together we can hold hand, touch genitals and pretend we were too drunk to remember the night before, all in the name of the internet’s greatest power, giving no bodies the platform to shout at other nobodies.