Booty Pop

Let it not be said that I hate all of mankind, but most of it has most certainly been earmarked for a hasty removal. At first I though Toddlers In Tiaras was a grotesque abuse of children, then I saw this. A part of me feels like the kid may have written this himself, which means that for the last five years of his life his existence has been completely devoid of valuable culture. I hate using the tear Paedophile, but when you have a kid ejaculating with a phallic water pistol all over the seismic breasts of a woman in a swim suit, you have to wonder what was the adult holding the video camera think. I am sure that the kid was safe, it may just have been a fun day at the pool for him, but I see those girls popping their booties and I want to start touching myself, but there is a 6 year old kid ruing the entire thing for me. Now that is just unfair. How dare this child… sorry I think I am getting off topic a bit.

It was mentioned in to comments and I tend to agree, of the genders of the boy and the scantily clad women were replaced then arrest warrants would be handed out like candy by a paedophile. Now if you kindly excuse me I have to digitally re-master 30 years of under 16 Olympic gymnastic videos for a client in Japan. 

Sucker Punch

Before I fill the cracks in this move with trinitrotoluene and Nitro-glycerine, in the express intent of fellating it to sexy smithereens – I mean blow, so sorry – let me get it over and done with and say that, dear Ganesh, this movie is many bucket loads of pretty. It can be summarized in the term, fap-tastic. It even has a soundtrack that makes me wish my candles were all lit and I was losing myself in the rhythmic thrusts of a lover’s embrace.

Now to look at the movie with kind of clarity men only get after climax, when the abruptly induced P.O.D. (post Orgasmic Disgust) lets you see past the glossy candy coating, and you are left with the shallow, frail, poorly nourished and overall weak remnants of a movie that looked so great in the haze of your once triumphant erection.  The movie exists on three levels, neither one in any way really needing the other, except to either ride on the Inception band-wagon or to use misdirection to give the illusion of depth.  You see, at the base level the story is simple but powerful, the type of tail that would make for a compelling short story that could be masterfully told by, let us say Stephen King for example, mostly because of the tragic nature of the end. It is pretty much about a girl whose mother dies, leaves all her wealth to her two daughters and not the money hungry new husband, who subsequently loses his temper, confrontations ensue, youngest daughter dies, oldest gets thrown into an asylum by the authoritarian masculine disciplinary discursive institutionalization system  of the time so she can get lobotomized, *inhale* does some things to escape the awful conditions of the asylum that are instigated by the rape-inclined male orderly, people die, she lets herself get caught and hence lobotomized so some-one else can escape, irregularities in the paperwork get the orderly caught, and he’s a snitch if ever there were one, so all the bad people are going to get punished but the ending doesn’t have too many rainbows, which means I get to munch on a nice big slice of catharsis pie, yummy.  Plus you get to see the endings tragedy in the beginning, so it double barrel’s you with dramatic tension and the classic Greek tragedy structure we like so much with our morning cereal.

                If they had used this alone in a ninety minute to two hour long movie, it could have been a powerful psychological thriller. But alas it got Gothica flash backs, so it decided to tart itself up by adding on completely new story on top of it, I know right, that is in fact far more shallow, but is presented, I think, as her internal coping mechanism for what is going on around her. In this dolled up version of events she is at a nightclub that keeps its girls hostage, where the dancers are whored out. She plans and executes the escape attempt in this version of the story, but it’s really happening in the first version of the story. The premise is that she dances and the other girls steal things needed to escape.

                So far, so followed, but it seems like that is all just pandering for the scenes that are the ultimate suck up to the Big-Boy’s Club of cool. I mean the type of cool you just want to spell with a K for no good reason, or am I the only one who ever feels like that.  You see, when she dances, she goes to the strange, violent and obscenely kick-ass alternative world that looks like it came from an E3 convention, because… now this is where I get stumped. These scenes seem to only give us a crude metaphorical representation of the plans objectives and the dangers they entail. Other than that it they seem to only serve the purpose of taking everything the internet (4chan) can’t get enough masturbating to and wrapping it in an insanely attractive box and going “Ta-Da, you have to like this, we followed the recipe to the letter”. This recipe is a menagerie of fan favourites such as  a giant robot samurai with a Gatling gun, steam punk zombie Nazis fighting girls in school uniforms and a Dreadnaught, Orcs, Dragons, the guy from Kung-Fu who gave us the pebble from the hand snatching, robots, a Samurai sword, Epic explosions, girls and tons of guns. It then applies icing on the cake with copious and unnecessary aesthetically brilliant violence to stoke the thick and pulsating phallus of cool. The way they move and shoot when they are up against the undead anti-Semites is frighteningly reminiscent of Counter Strike meets the chicks of Gears of War, with mini Skirts instead of power amour. And the strange thing is, a part of me is certain it was done intentionally, just to make it cooler.

Sadly, by trying so hard, it lacked what truly makes a movie “Cool”, creativity. This movie just sat down and tried to tick off as many things as it could in the hopes of keeping us happy and not asking to many questions about the narrative’s structure or progression. “Just enjoy the pretty pictures,” it says to us, while with one hand it strokes our head and coos, yet with the other hand it quietly faps and trolls on /b/.

Don’t you love the dehumanizing nick names the girls get, just to nail in that final “women are objects in our society” plug, while at the same time basing the selling point around substituting  powerful and meaningful moments in the narrative with pandering to Internet memes. Question, where do girls in miniskirts and tight fitting shirts keep the bucket loads of ammo they go through as if they were on Metal Storm.

Please tell me “waking the mother” is an inter-textual reference/euphemism for giving the mayor and erection, because if it is, I am so using. Stuff it, I will use it anyway because its cools.

 Fuck them for killing a baby dragon.

                The strangest thing to me is the fact that the most visually off-putting thing in the movie is in fact lead actress. Many people might argue that she is the pinnacle of hot. They will herald her hotness, whilst listing every segment of her and how it’s exactly what we think is hot, or at least strive towards, and therein lays the problem. In the same way the closer an artificial object gets to looking real it borders on the Uncanny Valley, so if a person looks too much like an artificial concept of beauty the weirder and more unappealing they look. If I was wrong about this then Heat Magazine would not be doing monthly exposés on plastic surgery addiction/mishaps. So the main gal actually reverses into the uncanny valley.  And she only has one expression, the Botox-ed, blank stare, pouting, ooze hotness into the distance look. Her face turns me off. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see the aesthetic appeal in a woman who resembles more a doll or the surgically altered than a real human being.

I have just realised for what this movie will be burned by the pages of history for, when I write them of course. This movie, on a base level, trivialises its characters. It sits in a boardroom and touts with certainty how “no one wants to watch a touchy feely movie about psycho chicks on their period, just go and Google ‘what gives guys hard-on’s’ and pad the Buddha out of it. Oh, and call my daughter, tell her daddy can’t come her cello recital, he’s got to deposit some seminal fluid on the chest of a well endowed exotic dancer tonight”. Escapism is great, but when it is done at the cost of a great narrative, it conveys to the audience that the suffering and tribulations of others need not, nor should it warrant our attention, lest it be riddled with CGI splendour.

The Smurfs

The great question is, am I going to hate myself for reviewing this movie, and the answer, most likely. I had to actively hide my glee when seeing the trailer, because sight of a guy with a beard yelling “yay Smurfs” may put people on paedophile alert. And I wear glasses, so it’s a triple threat. The fact that I was wearing a trench coat was purely accidental.  You see, I, like many of my generation, still look back with powerful nostalgia on the days of Gummy Bears (which still rock I will have you know) and Anamaniacs (which still makes me laugh)

So, let me take a look and see what all the fuss is about.

Right. So now that I have sat though the movie, I am left with a resounding sensation that I suppose may be compared to enjoyment. I mean, sure I laughed at times. Yes Gargamel was very well portrayed with the classic slap-stick humour that would appeal to children, the obvious target audience. It’s not as though the incorporation of classic rock did not help with the nostalgia. Despite my extremely jaded soul, there is something beautiful about Grumpy Smurf’s sexual infatuation with a plushy M&M doll. I must admit, what was once a set of cute and adorable fictional characters from my past (that did far too often bear the brunt of Rule 34), have now become frighteningly creepy. Aside from being devoid of a chin or any proper lower jaw, the realistic skin texture just made them too real.  They looked more like little blue German molester pimps with a disturbingly cheerful disposition, and the seemingly preternatural ability to not get hurt when falling down from extreme heights. It seems to me that humans are one of the only animals that don’t do so well with landing. 

The problem with trying to review this movie is that I am not too sure what to say. Like many children’s movies it is stuffed with more violence than one should feel comfortable with, but as long as the guy getting hurts looks funny, then it’s all okay.  And it comfortably crawls into the comfortable niche of nostalgic recreations, were, and this scares me, the kids who watched this show when it first came out now have kids of their own to show this to. And from that perspective, this movie makes sense. Why not share an enjoyable nostalgic moment with this thing you have made, who insists on eating all your food. This is not for the fans of yester year, purely (I mean as far as I can remember it seems to hold up to the cannon, but who cares really, unless you take Rule 34 a bit too far and paint your groin a friendly shade of blue, give it a blond wig and a dress, then make it throw up). It’s for the kids of today, and gives us a moment to feel like the kids we used to be, but with booze, casual sex and a driver’s licences. 


PS: Let it be know that were I a man who enjoyed the company of other men, but whilst being naked,  Neil Patrick Harris would be int he top three of my To-Nail-List. Just in case you were unsure. 

Your Highness

The disenfranchised outnumber the popular. For the select few for whom the world is a wonder, there are countless more for whom joy is found only in escapism, fantasy or making obscenely large amounts of money. The entertainment industry is a massive monster with more heads than can be counted, from games to television, comics, movies, music; all of which cater to the notion that the moment at hand is insufficient. This is by no means a rant against imagination, if anything it is the most valuable asset we have as humans. It is because we can imaging things beyond our present grasp that we strive to improve yourself and the lives we live. It is not surprising how people out there have a special place in their hearts for Tolkien like fantasy, one need only look at how exceptionally well the Lord of The Rings franchise is doing, and all similar movies based around that theme. Though with popularity comes the inevitable money minded with their milking cups, and my oh my do they intend to suck it dry of any residual originality. Up until now the fantasy genre has looked as bleak as the tits of a seventy year old hooker, just mournful.

Then this movie came along. To me this feels like the most relatable and honest fantasy movie I have seen in a while. Oh there are gripes, like the fact that the actor’s accents and manner of speaking feels forced, the use of contemporary slang terms seems out of place, and sometimes the reason for taking the piss seems to miss the bowl completely. Thought the reason why this feels so close to home is because the humour seems familiar. Then it hits me, this movie is the cinematic representation of a Dungeons and Dragons game, in which everyone is getting drunk, and the Dungeon Master takes a shot of tequila every time someone rolls a d20. Why else would a fat guy get surrounded by a troop of half nude and dirty ladies unless it was good old fashioned author insertion fantasy? And don’t tell me the molesting stoner wizard is not his way of coming to terms with his unemployed uncle who would give him money if he came to visit after school. If we were to push the stereo type to its limits then it would make sense that in a basement full of pimply virgins that virginity would be coveted. I will admit that that last sentence was completely fictional and unfair; Clearasil does work.

This movie should however only be judged upon the bases of what it is, and that is a comedy. Therefore we must ask the most important question of all, is it funny. The answer is a resounding, hells yeah. For so long the fantasy genre has been taking itself a bit too seriously. All the wizards and mages scowling at every turn and not once going to their friends and saying, “hey man, check it out. I can shoot fire from my hands and change the weather with my mind. I rock so hard I think I am giving myself wood”, because… well… yeah. I am tempted to go on a Harry Potter rant but I must remain focused on this one. Even in a world as supposedly boring as ours, one struggles to not gape in awe of our technological and architectural achievements, or be humbled by the wonders of nature. Now add magic, mythical creatures and a city full of midgets; how does that not make things better. 


The way this movie does not go out of its way to take itself too seriously, with the type of anal retentively that would make it able to swallow coal and pass diamonds, in fact makes it more relatable. If I killed my first monitor, who tried to rape my friend, I too would wear its cock as trophy. I mean, would you mess with a guy wearing a monitor’s cock. I did not think so. It’s the kind of movie that makes me wish I could play Oblivion multiplayer, with a friend, and get drunk, and do manly stuff, with our huge muscles and long swords…

It’s good for a laugh, and you get to see Natalie Portman in a leather G-string (why did it take me this long to mention that part of the movie). The movie is above all fun, and that’s what it intended to be. There is a bit of a moral thingy in there some were but then I remember Natalie Portman in that leather G-string and somehow it escapes me.

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Just Go With it

Some movies are painful to watch, this is one of those movies. This is one of those movies that mistakes the audiences discomfort with humor. I think I have chuckled twice, and that’s being generous. I was less uncomfortable when I watched Aron Ralston (James Franco) cut his own arm off in 127 Hours. I am not the type of person who walks out of a movie theater before the movie finishes, it’s like throwing away money, or shooting your own Thai slave-boy in-between the legs. If I were not forced to review this movie I would leave and slowly claw away at my own skin until I pass out from the pain. Some movies are poorly written, some are badly directed or have an ill use of the budget, hell their acting may be terrible, but this movie is not bad as much as it make me feel bad for watching it. There are so many clichés, too many uncomfortable moments, and the ending is so painfully obvious it makes watching the rest of the movie awkward. The little girls painfully poor British accent actually made me gag. Besides, who would decide that a spar day with your new boyfriend’s soon to be ex-wife is good idea. If I were Adam Sander’s character I would check her inner thighs for scars because she displays obvious masochistic tendencies. I’m not sure if that makes her more or less hot. Fine, a hulla dance off is an interesting change, especially if it ends in someone clenching a coconut with their but cheeks.

The events of this movie revolve around an elaborate lie told by Adam Sandler’s character to a cool hot 23 year old he meets at a party, about why he has a wedding ring. Now the real reason is a genuine tear jerker. Twenty years ago, about an hour before he is meant get married he finds out his wife has been cheating on him and still intends to. Come now, have you ever heard a better story upon which to base a sympathy screw. Why he has to keep making up a fake wife is beyond me. Let’s not forget the fact that if pretending he is married gets him allot of under the cover action, what does this movie say about women, that they run around trying to make married men feel better with the super healing vagina powers. Actually I rather like the imagery. Still, if he had been honest with the hot chick whose boat he rocked on the beach, she would have a) understood, b) found him more appealing dew to his anguish ridden past, c) he would have had good and meaningful relationship with a hot young girl that would have lasted all of a week. If you actually think about it, if you spend an entire weekend creating a fake life and identity and then expecting them to honestly have feelings for you, then castration should be implemented forthwith. I have been in relationships with people who have based parts of the relationship on a lie, especially about their past, and when the truth came to light, the pain was excruciating. Had she been honest, no matter how bad the past may have been, the relationship would have been so much better, and may not have ended in such a way that LED me to drink myself into the hospital. Oh wait, then ending, this ham handed attempt to tote the power of honesty is about as satisfying and climactic as trying to bed a beached whale while downing Serotonin-reuptake- inhibitors and blood pressure medication. For those of you who don’t get the joke, those are the kind of pills you give your daughter’s boyfriend to prevent them from pitching a tent, building the skyscraper, raising the flag, getting wood, having not-just-a-stiff-upper-lip, getting a hard-on... I’m running out of ideas here so add some more in the comment section.

This movie sucks so much it does not even deserve an obviously homosexual reference. The worst thing is, Adam Sandler in Funny People made fun of himself for continuously making crappy movies, and yet he goes out makes more of them. Maybe he wants us not to watch them, maybe he wants to go the way of Pauly Shore and be booed into obscurity. To think, I used to love his movies, but then again that was before my testicles descended

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Catwoman

Now I am going to try and get through this review without any gratuitous “cat” jokes, but no promises.

Even though people use comic books as the source of parody, they in fact have moments of sheer poetic genius. Now because I have had the luxury of enjoying the witty banter from the likes of Deadpool, I found the mid fight scene dialogue in this movie is painful and embarrassing. If you look closely you can in fact see how much it pains the actors to force those lines out of their mouths. I have heard more authentically delivered lines in pornography. I think Hale Barry was more comfortable topless on the set of Sword Fish, than deliver some of these lines. Before I continue I would like to point out now, this movie does present feminism and female empowerment as criminal, but only because men don’t allow women to steal pretty things they like. I wish that was a facetious take on the event of the movie, or even a disproportionate representation of the main character, but it’s not. Don’t worry I will go into further depth to prove my point.

The movie starts with as much subtle foreshadowing as a jackhammer on a pregnant woman’s stomach. Don’t get me started on the whiney protagonist who has the audacity to complain about having a job drawing advertisements for a cosmetic company, instead of being an “artist”. I have many friends with art degrees who would give a good chunk of their genital organs to land a steady pay check like that. So this lady finds out that if the company’s new face cream, is not used anymore, makes you face so grotesque that even Hannibal Lecture would not eat your cheeks. They shoot, she runs down a poop shaft and gets flushed out of the picture, or so they think. Low and behold, the counsel of cuddly house cats unites to give her new life and super powers. Oh how proud and majestic they looked, Midnight, Moonshine, Fluffy and Fuzzy Paws. The result is that she gets then loses the guy, loses her job and becomes a thief, hisses at dogs, and becomes a wanted criminal would eventually shacks up with a billionaire with a bat fetish. This is because of, well in the movie anyway, a dissociative personality disorder that makes her a masculine douche, but with tits in tight leather and acrobatic super skills. If this movie is in any way trying to empower women, then why dis bitch be crazy. No really, this lady is legit crazy. I mean Michelle Pfeiffer in Batman Returns is more of the Schizophrenic crazy, the battle with sanity, desire and overall manic split in affect, in conclusion, hotness. However, this Catwoman’s sharp flip flopping without a natural progression, which gives the impression of an alien consciousness consuming her instead of a tangled web of hidden drives exploding uninhibited onto the surface. Let us not forget that she prevents a company from bringing out a product that gives women granite strong skin. Yes, if you stopped using the cream it would make you look like Machete but hey, nothing awesome is for free these days. This would end all violence against women. If fact. It could have been the next step in our evolution. Think about it, no scrapes, cuts or bruises.

You know what. I am going to cop out of continuing to review this movie. It’s not good, don’t watch it. It’s silly. The plot is thin. The conclusion is obvious. There is no tangible dramatic tension. I am over it. The worst thing is, I really liked the Catwoman character. To think, I used to pleasure myself to images of cat woman and Hale Berry, but together, epic failure.

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Rango

Before I review this movie I have to warn you, I am going to be really nice to this movie. I know it’s not as much fun. Hush now, I tell you, oh how I wanted to not like this movie. I was quite content to despise it as a film that tried too hard. I was sure I was going to when not five minutes into the movie there was ‘Fear in Los Vegas’ reference. But in fact the movie is quite good, easily bordering of fantastic. The characters in the film are well animated and brimming with charm. The animals effortlessly fitted each individual’s personality.

Now the story. The introduction of a lonely protagonist, without an identity, who constantly changes in his solitude, makes for an interesting point of departure for character progression. It poses the question as to who are we if no one perceives us. Can a man alone have an identity? When Rango has to face the weight of his own personal fable, he realises that by living the construct, he has in fact manifested it and becomes more than the story.

The movie is filled with small homages to other movies, such as a scene with a bit of banjo Wagner for the ‘Apocalypse Now’ reference. In general, the movie does not come across as thought it was written for children, which does not surprise me seeing as it is a Nickelodeon film. I am convinced that all Nickelodeon shows are written for the ill-mined parents of delinquent children. Besides, how many kids would recognise Hunter S. Thompson or appreciate that Clint Eastwood is the spirit of the west. I would try and make a joke out of it, but he’s so cool. So I can’t. Besides, seeing as Rango is an actor, it would make sense that to him the spirit would be an actor.

As a purely western film, the movie has all the elements needed to make an epic tail, but this one adds to it the breaking of the forth wall and a strange awareness of its own genre. It even takes a stance of self-reflection alongside the audience with a classic Greek Theatrical element of a choir, who speaks to the audiences and answers questions them may have about the events in the story. The fact that they are a Mexican band adds to the flavour and humour of the film. Combine that with a few surreal moments in the film, it culminates in an immersive tail.

With regards to the review, to quote the late and sublime Bill Hicks, “Don’t worry, funny material and laughter will be dubbed in later.”

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