Adrien Brody co-starring with Sarah Polley in Splice:
Adrien Brody starring in and being special enough to get his own poster for Predators:
Adrien Brody going on his BRODYQUEST:
This past Memorial Day, I went to go see Sex and the City 2. Here are some thoughts (besides “UGH!”) that crossed my mind over the course of the afternoon:
You know, I really have to wonder what’s going on in the marketing department for Salt, because at certain point it stopped seeming like they understood what sort of movie they’re trying to advertise, and if that point wasn’t never, it’s most certainly this new poster from over at FilmoFilia:
I mean, yipes! I’m not sure if this poster is for an espionage thriller starring Angelina Jolie or a movie with the working title Action Wig: Cat-Eyed Meth Head and the Case of the Purloined Upper-Lip Plumper. Either way, DO NOT WANT.
Sure, I’m not saying that this is anywhere near as bad as Plastic-Faced She Beasts of the Glittery Gay Moon of Tatooine:
Call me a persnickety bitch, but I normally try to avoid posting an obvious bootleg of a trailer. The video quality’s never particularly great, the damn thing will inevitably get yanked down from YouTube the second that the suits get wind of its leak, and besides, I prefer patience over the tacky interweb nerd impulse to be first because I like to think it speaks of my refined aesthetic appreciation (Showgirls). That said, Super 8 is a J.J. Abrams movie produced by Steven Spielberg, which means this teaser trailer is just as exciting as a teaser trailer for a Michael Bay movie produced by Steven Spielberg except for the whole I-was-being-ironic thing, so you know what? Nerd up, bitches, ‘cos FIRST (or, at this point, LAST?):
Obviously we know nothing about this movie save for that: a) there’s a literal train wreck (as opposed to the metaphorical train wreck that is a Michael Bay movie), and b) this movie’s most likely about a space alien from Area 51, but apparently that’s all I need for me to know what I’ll be doing with my $12.50 at some indeterminate time that’s over a year away. So kudos to you, J.J. Abrams. Even though Super 8 has as much potential as it does buzz (bahoodles), you’ve also once again proven that it takes practically NOTHING to get me interested in a movie. Sorta like that one movie I was excited to see simply because it was starring Sharon Stone, and then it you incidentally happened to have a supporting role, which was weird:
It makes good business sense to push an Angelina Jolie spy thriller with obligatory scenes of Angelina Jolie being fierce and doing action things and gratuitous scenes of Angelina Jolie having boobs and doing “sexy” things, so I suppose this new trailer for Salt achieved what it set out to do:
I think my problem is that I don’t particularly care about the central mystery of who Evelyn Salt is. I’m more concerned with why this movie isn’t called Action Wig. Or The Bangs Supremacy. All of this double-agent stuff seems so secondary when you look like your hair stylist is an astygmatic drag queen who only shops at the Bargain Basement.
After all, if gays can’t adopt, then I won’t want a Gattaca mail order baby of my very own, which means I’ll never have to worry about listening to my kid throw a shit fit when I refuse to rent them Marmaduke. Sure, the other soccer moms might think that makes me a pretentious bitch who’s unfit to raise a child, but take look at this mess and tell me I’m wrong:
Okay, I’ll admit that the part of me that loves train wrecks definitely did a this at the end of the trailer, but most of me just feels sorry for Lee Pace and Judy Greer and William H. Macy. Sure, Ron Perlman and Steve Coogan are also much better than this, but at least they don’t have to show their faces, and Keifer Sutherland had the sage wisdom to leave this one off of his IMDB page. Lee Pace and Judy Greer and William H. Macy have neither of those luxuries. This makes me sad.
As for my fake ovaries, they’re quite happy to be fake right about now because for realsies:
I don’t know about you, but last night I had a rather delicious filet mignon at my office’s holiday dinner party, then I came home, and then I promptly shat my nerd pants. Why? Because the Iron Man 2 teaser trailer dropped last night, and it’s so damn good that you don’t even have to be a nerd to lose your shit over it. Being a nerd naturally helps, but it’s really over just a difference of whether you poop your pants a lot or your poop your pants even more than that. Don’t believe me? Just click the poster below and experience the the hotness, but be sure you’ve got an adult diaper on:
Everything about this trailer’s obviously the best, but I love how they’re sure to include a moment of Robert Downey Jr and Gwyneth Paltrow’s utterly delicious screwball chemistry. It makes me think of Iron Man 2 as His Girl Friday, but with robots and explosions and weird facial hair, so basically perfect.
Still, as much as it’s impossible to not love the Iron Man 2 teaser trailer, I’m willing to bet there’s at least one person that is not one of Iron Man 2‘s fans:
It never ceases to amaze me what will cause a stir on the interwebs. I get that it’s a rat race and we’re all just trying to get a piece of the cheese, but when that cheese is a picture of Angelina Jolie’s face that serves as the teaser poster for next summer’s Salt, I really get amazed:
I mean, yay?
Don’t get me wrong. This poster is perfectly fine, and I’ll no doubt be seeing Salt next summer. Angelina Jolie has a curious hold on me like that. I saw Changeling just to see her bring the classic-Hollywood-esque hysterics. Hell, I even subjected myself to Wanted, which says loads about how appealing I find her as an actress and how I have no self-respect. Still, as much as I guess there’s a certain newsworthiness in the unveiling of a teaser poster for a movie that many of us will waste $12.50 because the magnetic draw of an Angelina Jolie action movie overrides one’s ability to make good life choices, it seems to me that there are bigger teaser poster fish for us to be frying, namely this one:
Traditionally, teaser posters that come out nearly an entire year before their film’s release try to do what their name would imply, which is, you know, TEASE. For example, that fabulous teaser poster for Cloverfield:
They don’t even give you a title, that’s how much they want to intrigue you with the delicious mysteriousness of it all. And you know what? As teaser posters go, that one teased me all the way into the movie theater! Great job, J.J. Abrams and company. Your posters never fail to work me into a frothing nerd frenzy. I suppose it’s just my cross to bear.
Anyways, there’s a teaser poster now on the internet for next May’s Prince of Persia:The Sands of Time. I know, I know, it’s TEN WHOLE MONTHS ’til it comes out, but I had to share it because it’s already tantalizing me with the prospect of avoiding the hell out of it:
Wonky-eyed, racist caricature-bots?
Megan Fox giving lessons on how to dress appropriately for work?
Then there are the reviews, which confirm what I’ve long suspected. Ladies and gentleman, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, which is at long last in theaters, seems like it’s going to be one seriously ferocious train wreck, no CGI necessary.
I may no longer be a teenager, and I certainly never was a straight man, so the reality of the situation is that I’m definitely not this movie’s target audience. There will be no Shia LaBeouf in hot pants slouched over a motorcycle, and there are no reports of a gay robot that wishes all the Transformers could stop fighting and start striking a pose. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen will be loud and stupid and completely devoid of any positive social value, but it will at least be one thing other thing, and that thing will be over-the-top camp.
“But wait,” you ask, “isn’t camp bedazzled, transparent badness capable of launching gays into giggle fits?” Indubitably, my dears, but hear me out.