Archive for the ‘Stuck at the Movies’ Category

Netflix Confessional – Twilight

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

That’s right, I put Twilight on my Netflix queue.  Saturday, Strutter and I laid in bed and watched the whole thing.  I went into this expecting it to be a drama written specifically for teenage girls.  I expected it to be, basically, an After-School special with vampires in it.  But it blew away my expectations with the amount that it actually managed to suck.

First, there’s Bella.  Whatever this actress’ name is, and I’m not even going to bother looking it up, she can not act.  I’m sorry, but pouting in every scene is not a skill.

Next, there’s Cedric Diggory.  (That’s who he is.  He’ll never be anything else to me.)  He can act, but no matter what he does in this movie, no matter how badass he tries to be, he’s still going to get killed by Voldemort.

Third, there’s the quiet.  There are ENTIRELY too many pauses during dialogue.  Pausing during speech does not equal drama.  It equals irritation.

And lastly…  the story is just crap.  Yeah, I know it was written for teenage girls.  So was Harry Potter, and it’s awesome.

And that’s all I have to say about this waste of two hours.

Law Abiding Citizen was pretty awesome, however, as well as the FX series Archer.  And both of those managed to take my mind off of this terrible attempt at a movie.

Netflix Confessional: True Blood, Season 1

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

It has been awhile since I’ve done this, mostly because the speed at which I watch Netflix movies slowed to a crawl once I started dating and partly because I’ve just been slow to write anything at all.  It might also have to do with the fact that my Netflix queue was commandeered by Strutter over the course of two years.  It started out with a little “Add this” and “Add that” and progressed to a “Why hasn’t this come in yet?  Move it to the top!”  So the movies for myself have, sadly, all been pushed to the bottom of the list to make way for Strutter picks which, usually sit unwatched for several days until I finally say “Watch this” and “Watch that” so as to get the queue moving again.  I make it sound like she’s picking crap I don’t want to see, but that isn’t the case.  She just takes her time getting around to watching a DVD of anything.  The solution, I’ve found, is to get television programs, which can be doled out in bite-sized portions.  Recently we plowed through seasons 1-5 of The Office.

In a Bold Move, I finally put my selections first.  I mentioned in my previous post that I recently obtained an Xbox 360 so as to stream Netflix picks.  This is an ideal method for queueing up the television programs for Strutter while I start getting my discs in the mail once more.  And the most recent discs were the first four episodes of HBO’s series, “True Blood.”

I’d heard a lot of hype about this from friends and co-workers, and was a little wary of it.  It’s from the same guy who did “Six Feet Under,” after all, and I vainly watched that show in the hopes that it would finally become something I enjoyed.  I actually have to remind myself that the show witht the “light and dark” girl and her crazy-ass brother was actually the same show with the gay undertaker.  It was really that non-memorable for me.

True Blood is a series set in Louisiana, in a world where vampires have come into the open because of the invention of a synthetic blood which can sustain them.  Of course this leads to some ill will between humans and vampires, which I suppose is realistic.  My problems with the show are as follows:

  • Vampires, with the exception of Bill Compton, are such a crazy stereotype.  While I do believe that a human being, when bestowed with immortality and the desire to feed on other humans, would resort to a level of such evil and debauchery that would make Satan blush, I do not believe it would be sustainable.  Either the individual would get bored with it and look at feeding as just a necessity, or the other members of the community who had reached that point would eliminate this threat from existence.  The first three vampires introduced after Bill Compton all fall into this category of evil, and it’s, frankly, unbelievable.
  • The main character, Sookie, is named Sookie.  I really don’t need to explain myself further than that, do I?
  • The sex is gratuitous.  I’m no prude, but the sex adds nothing to the show aside from showing that Sookie’s brother is personally involved with the women that are being murdered.  But since the story also shows us that he’s innocent, it sort of detracts from the point of showing us the sex.  You could just throw a few lines of dialogue in there to place him at the scene of the crime or even do a classy fade-to-black when things start heating up…
  • ALL of the main characters are good-looking.  This is a backwoods town in Louisiana.  I expect there to be less teeth, more fat, and more dirty clothes per character.
  • I wanted Tara’s character to die before the end of episode one.  Let this next statement be heard by all screenwriters: We do not need any more obnoxious, angry, educated black female stereotypes in television or movies.  It’s not doing anything for the equal right movement except widening the gap.  To her credit, however, I will say that I like her Southern accent the best.  It’s just the right amount of annoying.
  • It’s a vampire story.  Yes, I like Vampire stories.  Maybe all this Twilight/New Moon hype has soured the taste for me.  It just seems more commercially-driven than story-driven.

Despite all of that, I’m going to keep watching the show.  It’s got enough of a hook to make me want to see the next episode, and I actually like the character of Bill Compton.  It’s got it’s own stereotype, too, but it’s one that doesn’t make me grit my teeth.  Maybe he’ll convince Sookie to change her name.

Netflix Confessional – No Country for Old Men

Monday, May 26th, 2008

I had to see what all the hype was about.  It won four Oscars ( Best Motion Picture of the Year, Best Achievement in Directing, Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role, Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material Previously Produced or Published) and was nominated for four others.  Many of my friends had told me how awesome it was, and how utterly violent it was, so I added No Country for Old Men to my Netflix queue and moved it to the top.

I want to take this opportunity to personally apologize to every movie that got pushed down a notch so I could view this piece of shit that everyone called a great film.

The movie is about a country bumpkin who stumbles across a drug deal gone wrong.  All the Mexican dope-dealers have shot and killed one another, leaving the drugs and millions in cash to be found by our Texas redneck hero.  Of course, that money belongs to someone, and they send a giant hitman, who I will call Lurch, to get their money back.  (Thank God that Lurch just happened to be in this piss ant town already.)

Lurch isn’t your average nine-foot tall hitman, though.  He carries around an air hammer with him.  You know what an air hammer is, right?  One of those pneumatic weapons they use to kill cows at a slaughterhouse?  Anyway, it’s about the dumbest fucking way I can imagine letting someone kill me.  Although it’s very handy to knocking the entire locking mechanism out of door, apparently.

So Lurch is chasing Hillbilly Jim, who turns out to be a resourceful Vietnam veteran, and manages to stay one step ahead of his demise for what feels like four hours of movie.  In between the exciting blasting off of locks and sporatic gunfire, there are long dialogues from our narrator, Tommy Lee Jones, who is the local sheriff.

Let me get sidetracked here.  As the narrator, I really expected Tommy Lee Jones to have an actual part in the movie.  Instead, he just wanders around a lot and comments on the dead Mexican drug dealers, the viciousness of Lurch, and offers to help out Hillbilly Jim by calling Jim’s wife and telling her to let him know.

And then, about seventeen hours into the film, Lurch catches and kills Hillbilly Jim.  And they don’t even have the courtesy to show it.  I waited seventeen hours for this final confrontation, and they sum it up by showing the motel surrounded by police and the wife crying.  WHAT…. THE…. FUCK????

I was so pissed off at this point that I didn’t even pay attention to the last fifteen minutes of the movie, where Tommy Lee Jones is sitting at his breakfast table talking to his wife.  I couldn’t even tell you what the general topic was because I wasn’t listening.  I’m sure it was about how his Daddy never saw no crime like that, or how horrible mankind can be, or something that would brainwash the Oscar committee into thinking that this movie really said something about the world we live in today…. the world full of fifteen-foot tall hitmen who kill people with air hammers.

Fuck you, Cohen brothers.  I want my Netflix account credited for twenty-eight cents, and I want my eighteen hours back so I can watch something else, like Baby, Secret of the Lost Legend.

In other news, my parents loved Strutter, and she seems to like them back.

Let There Be Nerdgasm…

Friday, March 14th, 2008

Lucas is doing another Star Wars movie… and a TV series… or two…

Lucas is quoted as saying, “It’s like ‘Band of Brothers’ in space, with Jedi,” Lucas, 63, said. “You can tell lots of stories. They come up all the time.”  That’s akin to saying that ‘Rosanne’ is “like ‘The Cosby Show’ in a blue-collar neighborhood, with white people.”  Oh wait…  it is.

I don’t know whether to be excited… or angry…

Netflix Confessional – Pirates of the Caribbean 3

Friday, December 28th, 2007

Last night I watched Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World’s End. I like pirates a lot. (More than ninjas, and I like ninjas a lot.) The first movie of this trilogy was excellent, and probably made it into my Top Five Movies Ever at some point. (I haven’t made a Top Five list for movies in awhile, but it changes over time.) The second movie was decent, but in true sequel fashion not as entertaining as the first. The third, which is the movie that I’m writing about, makes me wish I’d stopped watching the series.

Don’t get me wrong, though. There were crazy stunts, awesome acting, excellent special effects, and a shit-ton of pirates. But I just hated the story. I might be a little too critical, but I just couldn’t get into it. I already loved the characters, because of the first movie, so I should’ve cared what happened to them. But I didn’t. Even at the very end of the movie, when Will Turner died something bad happens to my favorite character, I was just sort of like, “Hmm. That kinda sucks for him.”

I think I just expected too much, which is my problem with most trilogies. (The Matrix immediately comes to mind.) Each movie has the pressure to out-awesome the one before, and most of the time it fails horribly. Even the original Star Wars trilogy, which has always been in my Top Five, dropped the ball on Return of the Jedi. When it came out, sure, I loved it. Because I was nine years old, and I wanted pet Ewoks and because the toys from that movie were cooler than the older toys. But looking back on it, I can’t like it as much.

I’m giving Pirates 3 a three-star review. While the plot was lacking, the acting, effects, and sheer number of pirates was still above the bar.

Netflix Confessional – Knocked Up

Thursday, December 20th, 2007

I recently watched Knocked Up, starring most of the funny actors from Superbad and from the 40 Year Old Virgin. Given the amount of laughter produced from the other two movies, as well as the raving reviews from some friends, I was expecting to laugh my ass off.

This is not a comedy. Don’t get me wrong. It has its funny moments, but they’re all surrounded by what should be called a documentary on accidental pregnancy. It’s a heavy plot, flecked with light-hearted moments. This doesn’t make it a bad movie, though. I enjoyed it. It just wasn’t what the hype had toted it as. It sort of reminded me of the movie About Schmidt, which was also previewed as a comedy and turned out to be a fairly depressing story about growing old alone and grumpy.

Anyways, back to the point, Knocked Up was a good movie. The story was believable, the acting was honest, if a bit over the top to get the humor factor raised, and Katherine Heigl is just someone I want to wrap up and smooch on for hours and hours. I think it’s the way her nose crinkles up when she laughs or smiles…

One thing about watching this movie that I totally didn’t expect is that it made me want to have a kid. I mean, I knew I wanted a kid (or two), but watching this movie just sort of kicked in a paternal/guardianship sort of emotion that makes me feel all manly. This emotional reaction, however, is probably just a personal thing. Your mileage may vary.

I recommend this movie, with the caveat that you go in expecting a serious story with a comedic cast, and I give four out of five stars.

Netflix Confessional: Black Snake Moan

Friday, September 7th, 2007

Last night’s movie was Black Snake Moan. I’m going to be perfectly honest here. I got this movie because Christina Ricci plays a nymphomaniac, and I figured that’d be a good chance to see her naked. For those who don’t know any of my ex-girlfriends, almost all of them are built like Christina Ricci. (Meaning that they’re short, doe-eyed, and look like they need to eat more.) So yeah, I’m a total horndog because I put a movie on my list that I assumed would be a soft-core porn. (Actually, I’m a total horndog for a million other reasons, but that one will do for now.)

The first five minutes of the movie did not disappoint, and it even had a twangy Blues riff in the background. Within twenty minutes, I realized that it was an actual movie, with a story and everything. By the end of an hour, I knew I’d be watching it again the next night.

Aside from Samuel L. Jackson and Ricci, there’s not a lot of good acting in the movie. (Justin Timberlake delivered a poor attempt at an anxiety-suffering guardsman, but at least he got the Southern accent down.) The story, while basic, is actually refreshing. It’s a very simple tale of people helping one another, with no bells or whistles. (Well, aside from the whole nymphomania thing, but I’ll forgive that since the movie probably would never have been made if it wasn’t in there.)

So if you like Blues music, Samuel L. Jackson, and maybe chicks whose ribcages are visible through their skin, check this movie out. If you’re only looking for soft-core porn, you can turn it off after the first ten minutes.

The other movie I got was Disney’s The Pacifier, starring Vin Diesel. It just looked like a fun bubblegum movie. Kids might like it, but don’t bother if you don’t have kids. The oldest daughter is going to be a hottie when she’s legal, though.

More Than Meets the Eye

Thursday, July 5th, 2007

Despite the fact that I’ve gone into Wallet Preservation Mode in order to cover the $3000 (2,200€, for Len) repair bill on my air conditioning, I had to go and see Transformers. I had to.

Originally, it was going to be a joke. The Fisherman (I need a better nickname for this guy) took myself and CSI-Guy to see American Haunting a while ago. It was god-awful. It sucked. It was, by far, one of the Top Five worst movies I’ve gone to see. As payback for this, CSI-Guy and I agreed that we each got to pick one shitty movie to drag The Fisherman to. CSI-Guy immediately chose Postal, because we all know that Uwe Boll can’t make a movie worth shit.

I, however, patiently waited and watched for the perfect terrible trailer. Then one day, there was a 13-second trailer that showed film footage of the Mars Rover being attacked by some transformer-shaped creature. Oh yes. This would be my choice.

Over time, though, the buzz made the movie sound better than I expected. And, finally, the second preview was released… one that showed an autobot climbing out of a swimming pool and stepping over a little girl. And that was all it took.

I told Fisherman that Transformers wouldn’t count as my bad movie choice unless he dressed up for the opening night. (Dressed up… as in put on a robot suit or, at the very least, wore a Robochrist tee shirt.) I was stoked. I wanted to see this movie about my childhood playmates. I had to. It was made just for me.

So we went and saw it Tuesday night.

It was awesome. Like… super-awesome. It won’t win any Oscars (aside from special effects, maybe), but this movie is my favorite movie in the past three years. Maybe it’s because of my childhood toy selection, I don’t know.

Anyway… go see this movie. Give Michael Bay your money.

Netflix Confessional – I Heart Huckabees

Wednesday, June 13th, 2007

With work driving me batshit crazy, I don’t have much going on to write about. Last night, however, I worked in a couple of hours for a Netflix movie.

I Heart Huckabees was recommended to me by more than three friends, which usually means it’s a film right up my alley. None of them, however, would tell me what it was about. In fact, I had never even heard of this movie before it was suggested. (One of the downsides to living life without watching television is that you don’t know what movies are out. I’m sure some of my friends hate the fact that I always have to ask, “What’s that one about?” when they suggest going to a movie.)

Having now seen the movie, I can tell you what it’s about.

It’s a comedy about two detectives (Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman) helping two men (Albert Markovski and Marky Mark) resolve their existential problems. That’s really all I can tell you about it, because existentialism is something that can not be described. I’ll just say that it was funny, more so because I think it mocks movies that take existentialism seriously. And I’m all about mocking things.

I won’t buy this movie, but I’d watch it again, so I’m giving it four stars on a five-star scale.

One Hour Behind

Tuesday, March 13th, 2007

While I got my full six hours of sleep last night, I still feel like my day is off somehow. While many people, including myself, will agree that six hours isn’t a full night of sleep, it’s my normal length of sleep for a school night. I sleep longer on weekends. Well, usually I sleep longer. Last weekend was different, and that might be why things feel off today.

Friday night, I had big plans. I was supposed to see a movie, catch a concert, and have a date with a girl when she finished working the night shift. Being creative, I was planning to combine the concert and the date into a concert-date. (I normally dont’t like doing this, because concerts are loud and I’m already half-deaf from too many loud concerts… but conversation isn’t my strong point anyway, so I figured a concert wouldn’t hurt.)

I met my friends at the theater and we went to see 300, which is based on a Frank Miller comic, which was loosely based on history’s Battle of Thermopylae. Aside from historical inaccuracy, I enjoyed this movie. There was a lot of fighting and, despite nothing blowing up, it was a great action flick. They also had a Spiderman 3 trailer, which just gives me a tingling sensation in my pants… Two things about the movie bothered me, though. The first is that there were too many damned mutants. A deformed Spartan, an army of deformed ninjas… it’s just too much. The second was that there was too much slow-motion nakedness. Don’t get me wrong, I like naked chicks just as much as the next guy. But I don’t need artsy nakedness in my action movie. Not to mention the thirty seconds of female nakedness was sort of offset by the rest of the movie, which was a festival of homo-eroticism. (In the comic, the Spartans were all naked. At least they wore short shorts in the movie.) On a 5-star scale, I give it a 4.5. I’ll probably buy it when it comes out.

After the movie, I didn’t have too much time to run home and get ready for my concert-date, and I was a little worried that I’d be late. (“Late,” to me, means “on time,” since I usually arrive everywhere too early.) Lucky for me, my date called me as I was driving and cancelled our plans. (Wait, did I say lucky?) Not one to let a chick get me down, I drove on to the concert.

My biggest complaint about downtown is parking. There’s a cluster of awesome places to hang out, and hardly any parking spaces for them. And then there are the businesses that close before nightfall, where you’re never sure if you’re allowed to park there or not. I parked on a street four blocks away and walked, rather than risking the closed business spot that was right across the street.

I had never been to Headliners before, which surprises me as much as I like live music, and I was a little nervous about the place as I went in. Not because I feared for my safety or anything, but because I walked past the thumping bass of two dance clubs that shared the adjacent spaces within the same building. I don’t want my concert music to be overlapped by house music. Once the show started, though, I couldn’t notice it at all. Only between songs could I pick it up.

The show was great, as it always is with Josh. Towards the end of the night, I noticed that the girl next to kept bumping into me while she was dancing/swaying to the music. She apologized every time, though. After the fifth bump or so, I noticed that she had plenty of space to dance in the other direction, and began to wonder if these bumps were intentional. Being an idiot, I turned and, with a smile, asked her, “Are you trying to strike up a conversation, or are you actually unaware of your proximity to me?” She smiled back and paused for a second (My guess is that she was trying to figure out what the word ‘proximity’ meant, and then answered “Yes.” (*sigh* Well, which is it?) Anyway… after a little small talk, I got her number.

I ended up going to sleep about 4:30 in the morning, and was hating life when my alarm went off at 10:30. While six hours is plenty during the work-week, I want at LEAST eight on a weekend. (Maybe six is enough during the week because I take naps?) I considered turning to alarm off, but I had plans to drive to to Heroes and Dragons and embrace my geekiness for six hours. There was a Warhammer Fantasy tournament, and I enjoy playing the game. (I placed third out of fourteen.) I was flat-out exhausted by evening, and had discovered that the Chris Conner benefit concert was sold out, so I went home. As tired as I was, though, I couldn’t go to sleep, so I dorked around the house until about 3:00, when I finally collapsed into bed.

My father called me around 10:00 and woke me up, thus shafting me out of my eight hours, and then President Bush shafted me out of another hour while I was asleep! (What the hell good does it do to move Daylight Savings time up three weeks? It was freaking dark at 7:30 last night!) I stumbled to the shower and turned on the cold water. Nothing wakes me up better than a cold shower. (Well, nothing wakes me up better than a hot woman… but a cold shower is around every morning.) Once I was awake, I headed over to the parents’ house out in the country for some lunch and some help in doing my taxes. It’s almost embarassing to say it, but my dad has always done them for me because I never bothered to look at them. This year, though, I sat with him and went through each box step by step. Taxes are a lot simpler than I ever imagined they would be.

So now it’s Tuesday, and I’ve not had a day to be a total bum, sleep late, and sit around doing nothing in two weeks. This weekend looks like it wil be no better, with a date, a bachelor party, and a hockey game already on the agenda…

Must Love Dogs – A Netflix Confessional

Thursday, December 28th, 2006

I had a date a couple of weeks ago that started off poorly, but had a pretty decent middle, and then ended poorly. I called her to follow-up, knowing that neither of us was probably interested in a second date, because I feel like it’s better to call and say you’re not interested rather than never call and leave the other person wondering. (Not that I expected her to be wondering, but there’s always a chance.) Anyways, the post isn’t about the date, exactly, but about something she said during the phone call, which was friendly and not awkward at all: “It was kind of funny, really. The whole time, I kept thinking about how you reminded me of John Cusack from that movie about the online dating thing.” I had no idea what she was talking about, so I had to look it up on IMDB. The result was Must Love Dogs, a movie I’d never even heard of. Being a dog-lover, an online-dater, and a John Cusack fan… I had to throw it on my Netflix list and move it to the top.

The story is about two recently divorced (from different marriages) singles trying to rediscover the dating game in their late 30s. They, unknowingly, have their profiles added to an online dating site by friends and family. Sarah Nolan’s (played by Diane Lane) profile includes the phrase “Must love dogs,” hence the movie’s title. Circumstances unfold, and the two end up meeting for the first time in a dog park.

John Cusack is no disappointment in his role as Jake, spouting out whatever it is that’s on his mind as quickly as possible, much to the confusion of his date. It’s the role that he plays time and time again, really. The passionate romantic, flirting with insecurity over saying the right thing and compensating for that by saying everything. (Or Saying Anything)

Diane Lane… well, she just didn’t fit the part, I thought. Maybe it’s because I can’t picture her as anything other than a cheating housewife having sex in an apartment stairwell chanting “Fuck me” over and over. (See Unfaithful if you don’t get the reference.) It could also be that her character was poorly written. Cusack’s character had 35 pages of dialogue re-written by Cusack himself, which is probably why I liked his role better.

I’m not going to ruin the ending for you, but I will say that I felt it was a bit over the top. I don’t know what it is about romantic comedies that makes them feel obligated to have some extraordinary “chase scene” for the couple to finally be together. Shit. I just ruined the ending, didn’t I?

Anyways, back to the the girl saying I reminded her of John Cusack. She isn’t the first girl to compare me to him. She’s the fourth, which I take as an incredible compliment. I used to be very vocal, and honest, and blabbermouthy… (I just made up a word. You can’t use it. I claim all rights to it.) In high school and early college, this quality was something I took pride in, because it was pretty effective at getting girls to laugh. But then it became something that made the insecure girls, the ones I was dating, a little more insecure. I mean, here’s this guy blurting out everything with the utmost honesty and conviction, and here’s this girl who can’t be honest or convinced about anything. It was a bad combination, and I stopped doing it. Thus was born the Strong and Silent Ben, the Contemplative Ben, the non-talky Ben.

Maybe there is a happy medium to be found somewhere in between there…

Netflix Confessional – Just Friends

Monday, October 16th, 2006

“I’m not in love, but I’m gonna fuck you ’til somebody better comes along.” – Marilyn Manson

Since I’m having trouble writing the next chapter of Nice Ass, I thought I would post something over here. (Honestly, I’ve written it, I’m just having trouble posting it.) Nothing in the world news is really pissing me off, though, so I’ll write about a movie that really made me think.

Just Friends is a movie that was recommended to me by Virginia Belle, based on several conversations between us about The Friend Zone. The plot is very simple. An overweight high school boy (Ryan Reynolds) and the hottest girl in school (Amy Smart) are best friends, and Chris, the unfortunate boy, wants to be more than that. At their graduation party, Chris writes of his desire to take their friendship to the next level in her yearbook. The yearbook falls into the wrong hands, and is read aloud to the entire graduating class. Humiliated, he runs away.

Fast forward a decade, and find Chris in Los Angeles, living the big life of a record producer. (Yes, I still call them records, and I will continue to do so until I die!) He’s shed the fat suit and looks much more like the Ryan Reynolds we all know and love from movies like Waiting and Van Wilder. He’s also a complete womanizer.

Fate, however, lands him back in his small town, and pushes him back towards Jamie, his high school hottie. It wouldn’t really be much of a movie if it didn’t, I suppose. Anyways, he and Jamie try to pick up where they left off, and it ends up forcing him to drop his womanizing ways and return to Mr. Nice Guy. Once he does this, he gets the girl.

Now, ever the skeptic, I can only suspend so much disbelief in one sitting. While it certainly makes for a happy ending to see him get the girl, it’s not bloody likely. And what underlying message is it sending about obesity? He might still be the super nice guy at the end of the movie, but he’s about 150 pounds lighter on top of that, so he’s certainly not the exact same person.

Anyway, the movie got me thinking about my theories on women and dating. It reinforced the belief that a man must be an asshole if he wants to get women. Who cares that they only last a week or two? If you can get a new one whenever you want, I suppose it doesn’t matter at that point, right? It’s like leasing a car… you drive it until you’re tired of it, and then you go get a new one.

Since it’s unlikely that I’ll lose 150 pounds in my 30s, I’ve decided to take one thing from this movie, and that is that life is better without emotional attachments. The Nice Guy is dead. If it means I’ll never have another meaningful relationship, then that’s the price I gladly pay to never make myself vunerable to another human being.

“Without emotions, without feelings, without love, without hate, breath is just a clock, ticking…” – Combichrist

Netflix Confessional – Dude, Where’s my Dirty Shame Love, Actually?

Tuesday, December 27th, 2005

I had three movies from Netflix sitting on my desk for so long that I had simply forgotten to watch them. Last Friday, I watched all three, and liked every one of them.

The first movie was Dude, Where’s My Car?. I put this movie in expecting it to be ridiculous and unenjoyable. Within the first ten minutes, I was pleasantly surprised to find it ridiculously funny. It’s today’s version of Bill & Ted, featuring two idiots who stumble through their own mistakes and impossible situations. The two heroes wake up with no recollection of the previous evening, which means no memory of where their car is. It also happens to be the one-year anniversary of them dating “the twins.” While the humor is almost entirely physical comedy and low-brow jokes, I was laughing my ass off. When the movie ended, I watched it again with the commentary on, and that was even funnier. There’s a chance that I may actually buy this movie.

The second movie was A Dirty Shame, featuring Tracy Ullman and Johnny Knoxville. It’s a film by Jon Waters (Pink Flamingos, Serial Mom) and is almost a throwback to his earlier films with it’s subject matter. The movie about Tracy Ullman’s character receiving a concussion and becoming a sex addict, led down the path to sexual freedom by a tow truck driver, Ray Ray (Knoxville), and his eleven “apostles.” Ullman becomes number twelve, and she is the one who is destined to discover a previously unknown sexual act. The movie shows no sex at all, yet received an NC-17 rating for “Pervasive Sexual Content.” I guess talking about for two hours is as bad as showing it. If you ever wanted to know what Feltching, a Plate Job, or a Pay Day was, then this is the movie to educate you. The movie is non-stop laughs, despite the crude content.

The third movie in the pile was Love, Actually. There are too many stars in the movie to name. I watched this movie once and didn’t really like it. About two hours later, I realized I was still pondering it, so I put it back in. The story is actually several stories rolled into one. Throughout the movie, the scenes bounce between different people and show the ups and downs of their relationships. Some of them were typical Hollywood relationships. Boy meets girl. Boy sends girl away because she interferes with his concentration working as Prime Minister of England. Boy chases after girl to woo her, a la Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. Some of them, though, are REAL relationships. One of them, with Alan Rickman (one of my favorite actors) goes something like this: Boy marries girl, Temptress tempts boy, Girl finds out, Girl cries, Boy is sad. Another one is even better: Girl loves boy. Boy loves girl. Girl says nothing. Boy says nothing. Boy and Girl hook up at Christmas party only to be interrupted by phone call from girl’s mentally unhealthy brother. Girl leaves hook-up because she loves her brother. (Not in a dirty way!)

Love, Actually is a movie that I am going to buy, and watch again and again until the disc get scratched beyond viewing. (Thank you, Virgina Belle, for recommending it to me.) I’m willing to forgive the Hollywood Love in it for the Real Love.

Since I’m on the subject of movies about Real Love, if any of you guys know of other movies like this, let me know. High Fidelity is number one on my Top 5 List for this subject matter.

Netflix Confessional – Lost, Season One

Friday, December 2nd, 2005

While in Edisto, we were residing in a house with satellite television that did not provide local networks. This meant that we couldn’t watch a show called Lost, which just about sent my mother into withdrawal. I had heard her gabbing about this show before but, being someone who doesn’t really watch television, never caught an episode. Koondog just happened to have the first season on DVD in his car, and it ended up making the ride home with me. Wednesday night I opened it up and popped in the first disc.

The story is about a plane crashing on a remote Pacific island while heading from Sydney to Los Angeles, and the struggle of the survivors. It opens with a man waking up in a patch of bamboo, and staggering out to the beach where he is surrounded by other survivors wandering around in the post-crash chaos. He springs into action and runs around saving people. We immediately like Jack. In fact, the character development in this show is something I’ve missed. There isn’t a single character that I don’t like, even Sawyer. Oh, and Kate is smoking hot in bra and jeans. (This is one of the top three sexiest outfits a woman can wear, in case you’re taking notes.)

I haven’t even finished disc two, and I’m picking up on several themes. The first theme is about light and dark, black and white, good and evil. In the first episide John Locke (the only character to have a first and last name that I’ve seen so far) is explaining the game of Backgammon to Walt. He says it’s an ancient game with two sides: light and dark. I expect this theme will develop much more, and we’ll find out how ancient this struggle between light and dark really is.

The second issue is parental. Most of the main characters have issues with their parents, such as Jack’s overbearing father. All the while, Michael is working to become a good father to Walt.

But back to John Locke, who is my favorite character. Why does he have two names? Could he be named after the 17th century Western Philospher? Just listening to my mother talk about the show, I know they’re going to encounter someone named Jean-Jacques Rousseau, which is also the name of a philosopher.

I’m looking forward to finishing Season One this weekend, and it might be enough to draw me back to to watching television.

Netflix Confessional – Sin City, Lemony Snicket, and Ong-Bak

Monday, November 14th, 2005

I stopped reading comic books when I was in middle school. As much as I’d like to say I stopped because I outgrew them, the real reason was because the cover price climbed to over a buck. My allowance couldn’t handle that, and so I shelved an innocent childhood joy. It’s probably a good thing, too, because comics aren’t so innocent anymore.

Frank Miller’s Sin City is a movie based on a comic. (Or a graphic novel, as they call the really expensive comics.) The story is about doing the right thing in a corrupt society, even if the right thing is sinking a hatchet into the head of a police officer. Yeah, it’s dark. The movie is shot in black and white, with reds and blues shining through at just the right times to create an incredible film. While visually stunning, this is probably the most violent movie I’ve ever seen. Maybe I’m just desensitized to it, but the decapitations and traumatic amputations really didn’t detract from the story. The violence actually made me appreciate the setting even more. The acting was great. The story was great. The cinematography was great. No reason not to run out and buy this film today at lunch.

Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events is also based on books which I’ve not read. The story is about three orphans with a tremendous amount of money trying to avoid adoption by the evil Count Olaf (played by Jim Carrey), who wants to adopt and dispose of them to acquire the fortune. Despite the dark theme, I’d categorize this as a family/children’s movie. It’s pretty funny, and Jim Carrey’s overacting is always appealing.

Ong-Bak was the third arrival from Netflix, and I found this movie to be absolutely amazing. Let me begin by saying it’s a martial arts film, so the plot doesn’t matter. It’s a simple story about a village sending one man (Tony Jaa) to recover the head which was stolen from their statue, and his kicking the ass of the people who stole it. The stunts more than compensate for this. Tony Jaa does all of his own stunts, and without the aid of digital imaging or wires to suspend him. It’s like watching a younger, coked-out, Jackie Chan kicking much ass and taking names. If you like watching asian dudes beating down anything that moves, this is the film for you. (I’m sure the writers would love my review.)

In other news, I began the chore of painting my bedroom this weekend. I moved the furniture (thanks Steve) into the spare room and primed the trim. Tomorrow I hope to finish the trim and purchase the paint for the walls. With any luck, I’ll be done with the room before I leave for Edisto this weekend.

As far as my social life goes, I haven’t made any significant improvement. I did go to the mall and walked around smiling and saying hello to everyone I passed. It’s almost amusing to see the faces of some people when a stranger greets them. It’s also a little scary with a few of them. Maybe Columbia Mall was a bad choice to do this in.