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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Here After

Psychics are dicks. I say this with irrefutable and unwavering certainty because I know that there are no such things as psychics outside of fiction. But among their brood, those who profess to be able to speak to the dead and make connections are grotesque and morally void scum that should be tied to the back of a pick-up truck and dragged naked down a dirt road and into a thorn bush. The nice thing is, this movie agrees with me. It presents us with the great longing humans have to understand things beyond your experiential capacity as well as our powerful interpersonal bonds. Excuse the momentary lack of humour, but speaking as a person who has lost people close to me, I think we can all agree that the suffering of those left behind is not something to be taken light of. Even I dare not mock the bereaved for a few harmless chuckles, so imaging those who have made a business out of exploiting it for financial gain. To clarify, I do not believe in a world or life hereafter, and the near death experiences can be reproduced in laboratory conditions and studied, despite the movies claims. Remember all you folks at home, movies are not documentaries. Life after death, as I see it, exists for the living, to give them solace for the great loss they have undergone. Even though I have a strong opinion on this matter, I have no place to interfere with other peoples relationships. Even when a person has died, the relationship still exists. Two people do not have relationships with each other, but two people each have a relationship with their perception of who the other person is. Hence the continued presence is not always necessary for there to be a relationship. So were an individual able to see into the depths of another’s heart and pull out harmful shadows caked in grimy grief when a person is not prepared for it would be traumatic not only for the individual undergoing it but also the person who is doing it. The very existence of secrecy, confidentiality and the degree to which we covet it should give you a good indicator of how valuable the privacy of one’s internal self is to its keeper. When this movies presents the sadness of loss, and rawness of grief and the hurt a human undergoes when they lose someone close to them, it makes sense that a kind and sensitive person would not enjoy being constantly bombarded by such pain. Even a momentary feeling of relief can only be of value if it is a true connection, but to poke at the wounds of others till they get an endorphin rush is just sadistic.

Despite all my rants about death and the afterlife, this movie is in fact about life. It deals with the struggles we as humans undergo in the attempt to feel close to each other, which when played against the very probability of loss, makes the connections so much the sweeter. If you like emotionally powerful dramas then I think you will enjoy this. If you charge people to help them connect with their dead relatives, then I hope your bone marrow turns to bullet ants and that they slowly and excruciatingly eat you alive.

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Catch and Release

I could summarize my feelings for this movie with the rather obvious statement, Kevin Smith is Jedi. However that feels like a cop out so I will examine the movie in further depth. Let it not be said that I lack all forms of integrity, only most of them. Life is messy at a simply biological level. When we add relationships to the picture, things get completely chaotic. We choose words in the hopes of sparing ourselves and others suffering, all the while cursed by the blinkers that keep us mortal. Pain and suffering is inevitable. Action, inaction, love, betrayal, secrets, truth and suffering all make life so spicy and tasteful, but have the terrible tendency of burning your sphincter as it passes through. This movie uses death as a means of portraying the life of a man through the memories of those close to him and how his past affects their capacity to carry on with their own lives, each other and the future. No matter what we do to pave over our mistakes, in some form or another they will impact those in our lives, even if it only comes to fruition post-mortem. I guess that’s the strange beauty of having people in your life. They hold you up when you stumble, they illuminate paths that were previously cast in shadows and they help break down the barriers that one hammer alone cannot damage. We tend to forget that people also become invested in our lives, which is a strange notion to most of us, to think that our actions and emotions reflect in the hearts of others, as though our limbs and words are tied to their spinal cords. As a race we are strongest a unit, thought in the necessary proximity we are at out most vulnerable. In this story we have the opportunity to examine this phenomenon.
Fine, I’ll stop being serious for a few minutes and make some humorous observations with a sprinkle of witty comments. If you have cheated on your girlfriend and are in the process of making the relationship “work”, then dear Buddha man, do not watch this movie with her, especial not if you have a good-looking, misunderstood Lothario as a friend. Trust me; things will end badly for you. Unless you get off on having your lady-squeeze leaving you for your boy –squeeze. In which case I dare say the impending drama, if videotaped, would be far more entertaining than the movie, maybe because of the Jerry Springer like atmosphere that shall surly accompany it. But really, life is messy and leaves us stained and tired, but this film deals with it eloquently. If you have any smelly corpses in you closets, watch this alone at first, then plan how you intend on spinning it so that you look good.
Yes Kevin Smith makes a Star Wars Reference.
PS: Watch Dogma, because if you don’t your, kids with have down syndrome

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Drive Angry

I wish I had seen this movie about eight years ago, long before I started to don the mask of irony and I lost the ability to indulge in mindless cool. I am rather sure that the director goes home, sits in the back of an American muscle car and masturbates to Robert Rodriguez films, then wipes his semen off on Preacher graphic novels, or anything else written by Garth Ennis. It is not that the movie is bad in the classical sense; it’s just that for a movie that seems to take itself rather seriously, it came off as particularly juvenile at times. when i say, at times, i mean all the time. It felt like the kind of story a kid would write in high school, and after he hands it in, he and his parents get called into the principal’s office so that little Tommy boy can explain himself. A part of me wants to go, “holy shit, their fucking in the middle of a gun fight, sweet”. To a lesser extent I am having Ghost Rider flash backs, though not as severe. Maybe this movie is Nicholas Cage trying to make amends. If that is the case, six points for effort but some of his lines were so unbelievable they made me flinch more than any of the gore. But the contractual “hot chick” in this movie is particularly fan-hard-on-inducing-tastic. It might sound strange, but the demon who gets sent down to catch him, to me at least, was so cool that I would say it saved this movie from being nothing more than a bad CGI, cars to compensate for not having a penis, too many explosions, ultra violent, needless tits and demonic elements movie.
Oh and well done mister writer sir, I get it, a guy who breaks out of hell called Milton, who happens to get shot in the eye. Very clever.

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