Archive for March, 2009

Thank Goodness There’s a Three-Week Gossip Girl Sabbatical Now
March 31, 2009

It’ll be a nice opportunity to grow back some of the soul that the past three weeks of this nuclear-grade disaster-bomb have destroyed.  I really hope that Gossip Girl isn’t practicing a scorched earth policy with their soul-killing descent into unrepentant atrociousness, ‘cos seriously, y’all:

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Given that recapping last night’s Gossip Girl constitutes forcing yourself into a state of post-traumatic stress, I’m going to try to keep this brief.  Hopefully I won’t blackout in a fit of rage before I’m finished writing this damn thing.  Anyways.

In last night’s main plot, the Humphreys and the van der Woodsens decide to team up and throw Jenny a high-society sweet sixteen party.  Jenny’s makes sad racoon eyes because she wants a smaller party because everybody hates her.  Don’t worry, little J, I don’t hate you.  I just hate your outfits.  Everybody does hate her, though, so Serena thinks she’s losing her social edge because Jenny’s birthday is actually about Serena.  Duh.  I hate how I always forget that your birthday is always about somebody else.

Serena secretly starts up the party again and invites her socialite friend/human-shaped-mass-of-awful-with-a-wretched-haircut-and-foul-bangs, Poppy, so everybody at school will thinks she’s cool.  Jenny proves to have a soul as ugly as the dress she wears to her party and invites everyone to the party through Gossip Girl and…oh, let’s just skip to the end.  Really, at this point in the episode, I was wishing I’d baked rat poison or cyanide into my shepherd’s pie so I could end the dreadful suffering.  

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Alien Trespass is the New Face of Bad Intentional Camp
March 30, 2009

Before you watch this trailer, you should know that Alien Trespass looks like absolute dreck.  That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t watch the trailer; seriously, it’s like a cautionary tale for aspiring filmmakers everywhere about how intentional camp is almost always doomed fails:

When you know you’re supposed to give a bad performance because you’re in a movie that’s directed in the vein of sci-fi/monster b-movies from the 1950s,  there’s no divide between the performance attempted and the performance given from which camp springs.  Camp appreciation functions in part by recognizing the inherent artifice of film as it peers into the gap between the aspiration and the achievement and revels in how this gap tears open traditional modes of reception to reveal something strange and beautiful and new.  In a sense, it’s like coming out of the closet: both are about are the thrill of and pleasure in transgressing norms.  When you close the gap, though, camp has no place to erupt from, and you just have a bad performance.  Whereas the camp pleasure of watching Mars Attacks! comes from its desire to take the material seriously enough to leave that space open, every single aspect of Alien Trespass is a deliberate attempt to create camp; everything is so determinedly bad that you’re just faced with a whole hell of a lot of awful.  

Added to this already terrible bad idea, though, is the idea behind this movie’s marketing campaign.  This mess’ll kill enough brain cells with its shear stupidity to put you in a vegetative state: 

Ruh-roh, you’re now in a coma!

This is completely not funny or interesting (except when the one guy says “I’m really more into sports.”), and Eric McCormack is awful in that promo.  I don’t particularly care to take the effort to pretend that this movie is a long lost relic from the 50s so that I may in some way appreciate the filmmaker’s intentions of crafting an “homage” to schlock.  I’m going to just go with him intending to make a movie I’ve no interest in seeing.  None.  At.  All.

As Susan Sontag observed: “You can’t do camp on purpose.”  Some people, I guess, never learn.

I Will Blog Too Much More About U2 Now
March 30, 2009

Fact: Ticketmaster needs to be renamed to Ticketmonster.  After putting me through the most emotionally draining 18 minutes of my life, replete with panic sweats and adrenaline-fueled jitters, I can safely say I’ve emerged from the war zone with this important message:
u2360squeal

The world is safe from the rampaging beast of queenery–an incredibly gay Hulk, if you will–because I will be seeing U2 this fall; however, this also means that I’ve officially boarded the crazy train headed towards Crazy Town, population you and me.  I will indubitably be blogging much, much more about U2 and the concert in the coming months.  Trust me, this boiling anticipation is going to go supernova on y’all.  

If you’re a fellow U2, then you’ll probably consider this a good thing.  If you’re not, the next few months will be the blogging equivalent of paisley pants, this pair in particular:

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In other words, things are gonna get ugly.  

You’ve been warned.

We Can All Agree: Gabe Delahaye is a Dreamboat Among Men
March 28, 2009

In my utter commitment to blabbering on about absolutely nothing of any relevance, I bring you the latest installment of Gabe and Max’s Guide to Man Style, which I stumbled upon over at Videogum:

Admittedly, this isn’t the funniest of their clips, but it’s still fabulous and with just enough homoeroticism to send me into a fit of vapors.  No, the funniest would have to go to their video on dining and wine, which might be the most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen (which might indicate that I don’t get out much):

Given my proclivity for cooking and fondness for dinner parties, I think my next party should indeed be themed “Erotic Nightmare.”  Whatever precisely that is.  I’ll figure it out after I’ve successfully hosted my “Divas of Classic Hollywood” dinner party.

Anywhosie, the real point of this blabberfest is to point out the terribly obvious fact that these two men are comedic geniuses, and also the even more obvious fact that Gabe is the dreamiest thing known to (gay) mankind.  When I say this to people, I get looks of extreme confusion, but it’s really quite obvious:

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Who Exactly is Adventureland Made For?
March 28, 2009

Every time a commercial for Adventureland comes on during Gossip Girl, I lose all self-control as I turn to my Gossip Girl viewing buddy Brynn and screechily ask, “Who is this movie made for?”  We are, of course, fast-forwarding through that nonsense thanks to the miracles of DVR, but I still want to know who precisely wants this movie?  Just look at this thing:

Yes, movie trailer, life after college is not exactly what any of us expected.  Maybe if you weren’t so focused on such a stupid idea as taking a post-graduation trip through Europe and instead focused on finding a real job like the rest of us do, you wouldn’t be in this conundrum horribly plotted movie.

I really don’t grasp how this is an actual movie that got a greenlight from the studios.  Sure, we’ve all worked crappy summer jobs with quirky coworkers, and I myself can even sympathize in working a post-graduation job in retail to fund my summer exploits before moving to New York City for grad school, but I wouldn’t say that’s a sturdy concept for a movie because nobody, myself included, would want to see that.  Whoops, I just became my dad!

The problem with Adventureland, like all movies that romanticize a summer of discovery and lessons learned before entering adulthood, is that these summers don’t in fact exist.  We wax nostalgic about these moments because they’re the final moments of womb-like security that comes with the adolescent impulse to live for the moment before we’re birthed into the often frustrating world of financial responsibility and bills and 9-to-5 work schedules and all the other joys that come with being a grown-up.  It’s a universal experience, for sure, but also one that you eventually realize is completely unrealistic once you gain a little perspective.  These movies aren’t based in any truth; they’re just an opportunity for one filmmaker to cinematically masturbate about their own refusal to grow up and immature yearning for times long past.  Let me play you a dirge on my tiny violin while you cry me a river.  Or not.

Throw in the fact that Kristen Stewart is painfully annoying with her perpetual face of disaffected youth and that this movie is set in 1987 (80s nostalgia in movies is completely a completely lazy technique for adding texture to a story unless its Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion or Grosse Pointe Blanc; those movies are great), and it’s made its way to the top of my do-not-want list.  This movie is made for nobody, but I’m sure it’ll make bank in theaters.

Woof.

(Also, as noted in the comments, I had a brain fart while initially writing this and claimed it was Kristen Scott, not Kristen Stewart, who is in Adventureland.  The correction has been made, and I obviously need a fact checker.)

Looks Like Someone’s Got a Case of the Fridays
March 27, 2009

Seriously, y’all, I woke up this morning to my alarm pondering, “Why would I set my alarm so early for a Saturday morning?” Roh-no!  All studies indicate that this is not the way to begin your Fridays; it’s like waking up with a major urge to just stay at home in your pajamas eating ice cream sandwiches and pickles and grilled cheese sandwiches because you just know it’s going to be your heavy-flow day, but you’ve got important meetings all day so you can’t call in sick.  It’s a frowny-faced, sad panda sort of feeling, and trust me when I say this: New York City subway commutes are not going to turn that frown upside down.

FORTUNATELY, though, I’ve been abusing my favorite stimulant (coffee) like it’s going out of style, so I’m Lil’ Miss Perky Pollyanna right now, but in case anyone else needs a pick-me-up, I bring to you the already quite wonderful LCD Soundsystem ballad “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down.”  As performed by Kermit the Frog.  It’s like “Rainbow Connection,” but totally better:

See, aren’t you feeling better already?  James Murphy (the guy behind LCD Soundsystem–and the Kermit puppet) is the best.  Now I won’t be tempted to make (as many) bitch faces on my ride back home.

Excellent.

You Only Need Mention That Liev Schreiber’s in Drag to Sell Taking Woodstock
March 26, 2009

Everything else is just gravy.  The fact that Imelda Staunton and Eugene Levy are in the cast, or that it’s directed by Ang Lee (he’s always great), or that Demetri Martin plays gay?  So much gravy on top of the perfectly crafted mashed potatoes that is Liev Shcreiber doing drag:

It’s quite pleasurable to see Ang Lee loosen up his style so much in this one.  I had to watch the trailer a couple of times, but there’s something in the look that reminds me of Brokeback Mountain, but more joyous instead of repressed.  This somehow seems fitting, given that Elliot Tibor (Demetri Martin) himself was gay.

I’m really quite pleased to see that Demetri Martin’s character isn’t just another stereotypically fey caricature, and the Wikipedia article on Taking Woodstock makes the movie positively tantalizing.  Jeffrey Dean Morgan plays Demetri’s married, closeted lover?  That’s plenty good for me, but the fact that this movie could essentially be kicking off its story with the Stonewall Riots has put my anticipation factor to boiling.  I recognize that a trailer premiering after an episode Important Things with Demetri Martin won’t likely really drop any of that into the trailer (the show’s not called Homo Things with Demetri Martin, y’all).  I hope Focus Features puts out another trailer that gives a bit more of a hint at all the layers to this movie; the trailer just feels a bit too light-comedy for an Ang Lee film.  Still, though: boiling anticipation.  BOILING!

Cheers to Vulture posting the trailer and /Film for the more homocentric plot summary.

Never Forget That Isabella Rossellini’s the Greatest
March 26, 2009

It’s pretty hard to deny that Isabella Rossellini’s an incredible woman.  She’s a comedic genius:

She’s also a genius genius.  Her web series for the Sundance Channel, Green Porno, couldn’t be more amazing if it tried.  The series sounds scandalous, but it’s really about as inappropriate as a rather bawdy biology lesson.  Isabella Rossellini dresses as various insects and recounts their sexual habits, gender-bending and anthropomorphizing these mating rituals into educational monologues that are as hilarious as they are enlightening.  I suspect this is not entirely safe for work (I’d guess it’s PG-13ish?), but you truly haven’t lived until you’ve witnessed the Ms. Rossellini discuss the batshit insanity that is snail sex:

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Obsessed Looks to Make Our Wildest Trash-Movie Dreams Come True
March 26, 2009

If you haven’t seen the trailer yet, you really must.  It’s the sort of epic, über-trashtastic nonsense that Hollywood should make more of a commitment to if they insist on giving us terrible movies.  We do not need more Paul Blart: Mall Cops or Meet Daves; we need more of this utter garbage.  I’m not even kidding.  Just look at this train wreck:

RRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrKRASH!  In case you were wondering, that’s the sound of a train wreck.  Duh.

I can’t seem to decide what part of the trailer I like most, so I’ve decided that I simply adore all of it.  There are some highlights that must be pointed out, elements that completely convince me that you’ll have a six-pack by the end of this movie because you’ve been laughing so hard and so frequently.  For example:

  • The fact that this movie is essentially Fatal Attraction but without any insane sex scenes because this movie is only PG-13.  I didn’t put on pervy-pants today (I’m wearing my corduroy boot-cut pants, actually), but these movies can’t work if they aren’t erotic, and the lack of sex is likely going to make this movie as erotic as watching the ink on an abstinence pamphlet dry; fortunately, a lack of eroticism in a sex thriller is a guarantee for laughs.  We call this the Cinematic Law of Body of Evidence.  
  • Ali Larter’s seduction moves in this movie are pure genius.  It’s a potent mixture of Dakota Moss and Nomi Malone.  Between her bathroom attack and the writhing about in the car, I’m pretty certain she’s the only person in this mess that’s well aware of what kind of movie she’s in.  Her performance alone looks to be worth the price of a ticket.  
  • Jerry O’Connell doing the finger gun gesture.  The finger gesture is never appropriate.
  • Hell, the fact that Jerry O’Connell is in this at all is kinda blowing my mind.  I really liked him in Scream 2 and Scanners, so I’m glad to see he’s still working; still, I thought he’d been relegated to terrible Lifetime movies.  I guess his theatrical film career is getting is getting another go with Beyonce vehicles that probably should’ve remained Lifetime movies.  
  • Oh, how can I forget?  Ali Larter sinisterly holding the baby is brazilliant.  I’m glad they’ve thrown a dash of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle into the narrative mix; it really is like a dash of smoked paprika in this bad movie stew.  She doesn’t just want the guy’s body, y’all.  SHE WANTS BEYONCE’S LIFE!  Scary.
  • Mostly, though, there’s the catfight.  The epic catfight that destroys Beyonce’s beautiful house.  It’s like Russ Meyer on crack rock.

So, yeah, Obsessed.  It comes out April 24th, and Internet Movie Database claims the movie’s working title was Oh No She Didn’t.  How do you say no to that?

Oh, right.  You don’t.

Stop What You’re Doing and Watch the Trailer for Where the Wild Things Are
March 25, 2009

Make like a shoe slogan and just do it, y’all:

Bam!  Nailed it straight outta the park, Mr. Jonze.  Well played.

As anticipated, this movie looks positively brilliant.  The colors are simply gorgeous, and Lance Acord (the cinematographer) needs to be commended for perfectly capturing the aesthetic of the book.  As for the musical accompaniment to the images, well, Arcade Fire is the best, y’all, and I want that acoustic version of “Wake Up” now.  RIGHT NOW.

I’d heard rumors that Jonze had be using Arcade Fire as temp music during test screenings, but I haven’t read anything since; however, this trailer seems to suggest that  they just might’ve stayed in the final cut.  I really hope so.  If I end up hearing Arcade Fire in Where the Wild Things Are, I will squeal.  Every time a song starts.  

Frankly, they really don’t need to make another trailer.  This one’s perfect.  I want to buy my ticket right now.  

And watch that trailer again.

If You’re a Lost Fan, This Will Make You Pee Your Pants
March 25, 2009

Lost fans are a rather particular and obsessive cult, but these are rather necessary qualities for a show of such narrative complexity.  With all the time-hopping and complicated mythologies and tantalizing mysteries, you really can’t half-ass your way through a viewing.  With all that said, I imagine this video won’t make much sense to the uninitiated, and you’ll probably tell me I’ve a terribly lame sense of humor (perhaps) or I’m totally gay for liking that video (well I am, duh, but that’s ‘cos I like men; liking this video is purely incidental).  To those that watch Lost, though, you’d better have some adult diapers ready.  In honor of a new episode of Lost tonight, I present this to you:

“I guess that’s more of a fact than a joke.”  In internet terms, I believe the response to that line is LOL.  I prefer brilliant.  

This video is like the fifth-season-Lost of comedy videos in that its success is based entirely on having followed the show and being able to catch all the references.  That said, the reactions alone make this video positively priceless.  Between the girl playing Claire and the spot-on Hurley, this video is an infinite source of laughter.  

I also highly consider checking out the website where I found this video.  This Gil Ozeri fellow is some kind of comedic genius.

Also, I’ll be telling that smoke monster joke all day.  You’ve been warned.

Last Night’s Gossip Girl Continues on the Track to Train-Wrecksville
March 24, 2009

Did you ever see Little Children?  Hopefully this’ll jog your memory if you don’t know what I’m talking about:

Remember it now?  It was that drama from 2006 with the totally brilliant trailer that ended up being rather average.  Kate Winslet and Patrick Wilson have an affair because they’re bored suburbanites, and it’s also a satire of these bored suburbanites because their lives are pretty decent but they’re still behaving like selfish brats who can’t grow up, so it’s about adults behaving like little children.  Got it?  Good.  

Why am I saying this?  Well, I really like the trailer and it also contains a toy train train wreck, which is a perfect visual metaphor for this week’s episode: still a total train wreck, but now on a smaller and incredibly more inane scale.

In the main plot, Nate and Dan and Vanessa go to Nate’s family reunion so Nate can patch things up with his grandfather.  Nate plays touch football with his relatives, but people get knocked over by these “touches.”  That kinda defeats the point, you WASPy jackasses.  Grass stains take forever to get out of you J. Crew sweaters!  

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If This Movie Gets Made, I’ll Combust into Rainbows and Glitter
March 23, 2009

I usually attempt to avoid Hollywood gossip as it tends to be tons of speculation and rumor mongering and only so frequently comes to fruition, but when I read this on Celebitchy, I had a moment.  A really shrill, shrieky moment of unabashed homo glee.  Ears bled. Dogs barked.  It was no good, so I worry for the world about what would happen if this news turned out to be more than just someone passing off their own two-cents on casting a Judy Garland biopic.  But, according to the Daily Mail:

Hollywood starlet Anne Hathaway is in talks to play her movie idol Judy Garland in an upcoming film based on Gerald Clarke’s biography, Get Happy: The Life of Judy Garland.

The 26-year-old actress is so desperate to appear in the movie – which charts Judy’s rise to fame and her struggle with drink and drugs – that she may have to sacrifice other projects, which include a lead role in a comedy called The Fiance.

THIS ABSOLUTELY MUST HAPPEN.  MAKE IT HAPPEN, HOLLYWOOD!  See!  I lose all control when I begin to this about the possibility of this rumor coming to fruition.

I mean, you need only watch this clip to recognize the incredibly obvious fact that Judy Garland is one fierce lady.  Seriously, watch this fierceness:

Fierce.  Fact number 765 about the homosexual community: we loooove hysterics, and those are some perfectly executed hysterics.  Now you know why the gays love her.

Also, anybody that’s watched Rachel Getting Married knows that Anne Hathaway has some serious acting chops.  Oh, and she can sing damn well:

Between the champagne-effervescence of her charm and the fact that she did self-destructive so well in Rachel Getting Married, casting her as Judy Garland is the duh of the century.  Hell, make it more than a movie.  Make it a ten-hour miniseries.  I will watch it all.  There’s no way it’d be anything less than fabulous.

Now watch this rumor turns out to be completely false and instead they cast Malin Akerman, because that’s just my (bad) luck.  Though if they use that as an opportunity to cast Carla Gugino as drunky Garland, then I just might get on board…

Since It’s Quite Popular, Let’s Talk Some More About the Dr. Manhattan’s Blue Weiner
March 23, 2009

Over the weekend, despite not being particularly active with my blogging duties, I noticed a relatively unusual spike in views:

bludity-dashboard

I recognize that, in the infinite traffic of the interwebs, this level of activity is hardly astounding.  At the same time, though, it’s barely not yet noon, and the numbers on on the rise.  All because I had to go on a rant a few week’s ago about the full frontal bludity in Watchmen.  

Having seen Watchmen, I can safely attest that it’s there.  Frequently.  Unlike the graphic novel, which largely obscures Dr. Manhattan’s kibbles and bits through selective panel compositions, the movie parades that thing loud and proud.  Much to the chagrin of the groaning fanboy sitting next to me, it has a tendency to flop about when Dr. Manhattan walks around, which makes sense.  Because he’s not wearing pants.  And that’s what happens to your business when you’re not wearing pants.  

I must say that I do applaud Zack Snyder for so determinedly keeping the johnson in the picture. I like to imagine long meetings with the animators in which they propose to him various looks for the penis before deciding on the right one; he has to battle with producers who keep wonder why Dr. Manhattan can’t have a Ken-doll crotch or be an ardent supporter of Hanes boxer briefs, and the MPAA is positively having a conniption fit trying to figure out how to rate the movie.  I say this not because the thought arouses me, but because I have the sense of humor of grade-school student.  I’m terribly mature.

But anywhosie.

He’s obviously a man that’s comfortable with his own sexuality, and the ample peen screen time ends up being politically charged in that it demands audiences to be comfortable in their own sexuality.  The groans and award shifts-in-their-seats elicited from male audience members goes to show that quite a few heterosexual males still have issues with accepting that seeing another man’s penis doesn’t actually turn them gay (although you can easily make the argument that it’s a little bit gay to be searching for pictures of said penis on the internet).  I’m certainly appreciative that interest in a blue wang is providing my crazy talk an audience, but, seriously, internet:

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Patrick Wolf’s Video for “Vulture” is Simultaneously Awesome and Frightening
March 22, 2009

It’s also certainly not safe for work, and it’s absolutely not safe for moms (particularly mine).  There’s no graphic sex or full frontal nudity, but there is a bit of Patrick Wolf’s butt.  There’s also S&M and bondage at play.  So much S&M and bondage.  Seriously, this is about as work/mom appropriate as this video gets:

vulture1

That’s still pretty sinister, and that’s only the tip of the iceberg.  There’s Patrick Wolf dressed as a scary vulture, and lots of Patrick Wolf thrashing about in S&M gear.  Since I’m always so giving, I’m going to share it with you.  As I see it, if I had to experience the three minutes and 23 seconds of nightmare fodder, it’s only fair that you do too.  You’ve been warned, now go watch this freak show:

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Let’s Start Sunday With The Most Important Question: Where’s My Eno?
March 22, 2009

It’s safe to say that my U2 love is quite well documented on here, so it should come as no surprise that I frequently search YouTube for live clips.  So color me giddy when I stumbled upon this little piece of deliciousness this morning:

In an album that stands out as easily being their best work in well over a decade, I think “No Line on the Horizon” is without a doubt the best of those tracks.  U2 has a knack for making great album openers, but this tripped-out sonic ocean of guitar noises and layered drum loops simply nails it.  And when the final verse explodes from spacey-ambiance it to full on sonic assault, well, I pretty much lose it; needless to say, that makes for the morning commute to work pretty special when I suddenly start screeching like a total crazy.

Given that the success of the song is as much in the production as it is the raw form of the songwriting, snaps must go to U2 for finding so much drama in such a stripped down, intimate setting.  But, seriously: Where’s my Eno?  June 30th marks the beginning of the U2 360° Tour, which is guaranteed to be a completely fabulous affair.  I’m so excited that I’ve completely accepted that I’ll be making a sojourn to New Jersey, which is like Orpheus walking into Hell for his true love, except with more Aqua Net and ridiculously painted nails.  As such, I fully expect to have Eno-riffic beeps and boops contribute to a day’s worth of stunted hearing after the show, otherwise things just won’t quite feel complete.  Don’t let me down, U2!  I don’t want to suffer the soul-crushing experience of day-tripping to Jersey just to hear a complete lack of Eno sounds; that would be dreadful.

Oh, who am I kidding? Nobody will pick up their phone for weeks after I see that show because I’ll be such a nightmarish ball of let-me-bend-your-ear-some-more-about-how-amazing-U2-is adoration.  Work will forbid me to listen to music because it’ll be all U2, all the time; and I’ll generally become completely socially ostracized until I get it all out of my system.  This is just part of the cycle.  So carry on, U2.  Carry on.

For the Lovers of Bad Movies, One Thing is Clear: We’re All Going to See Knowing This Weekend
March 21, 2009

As of late this evening, the critical consensus on Knowing sits at a rather bleak 24% according to Rotten Tomatoes.  That essentially means 24 of every 100 film critics actually liked the movie, or–in monetary terms–Knowing can’t even rank as a quarter.  Then, when you check their top critics section, you get this:

knowingrt1

The standard Rotten Tomatoes score includes plenty of online critics; it’s more democratic in one sense in that it allows any person with a domain name and a knack for film criticism can have their opinion considered in the Rotten Tomatoes score.  With enough work and effort, I could have my opinions be a part of this equation.  Given my personal tastes and predilections with film, that’s rather horrifying.  I don’t even want me suggesting what middle-America should see; they’d probably come after me with pitchforks and torches and burning effigies as they demanded my blood.  So, yeah, I take that score with a grain of salt.

But the top critics score, the score delivered by the men and women that make their careers to watch and critique movies, means professional film critics REALLY hate this movie.  These are the people that see the artistic heights and depths of the medium so that they can guide audiences towards the best that’s screening in theaters, and they think Knowing is a hot mess of crashing planes and trains.  I could piddle my pants at how excited this makes me.

Oops, too late.

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Lindsay Lohan’s the Face of Something You Do Not Want to Buy
March 20, 2009

Lindsay Lohan used to be a contender.  I mean, how can you deny the talent?  Anybody who remembers I Know Who Killed Me knows she’s the best.  At delivering the worst performances.  Seriously, though, I loved her in Mean Girls, so it saddens me to say that she’s been reduced to spokesperson for, well, something called Fornarina:

Fornarina is, according to this ad, a self-described “celebrity fashion style.”  I say self-described because that garbage looks likes something you’d find in the hooker section of a TJ Maxx.  Yikes.

This entire ad is quite simply a hot pink train wreck of disastrous proportions.  I don’t particularly understand what celebrity style would involve wearing what quite frankly appears to be–and my apologies in advance to those with delicate sensibilities–anal beads around your neck, but I’m guessing it’s pretty cheap and trashy if it employs Ms. Lohan as its spokesperson.  Seeing as she’s clearly not eating, I bet the people at Fornarina are paying her in Red Bull and cigarettes.  Breakfast of champions, that.

I’ll give her this, though: Lindsay Lohan’s now my Halloween costume idea NUMERO UNO.  All you have to do is find the sleaziest street walker outfit you can find at a Salvation Army, top it with a truly shiteous blond wig, and then you wander around your party pointing and saying inane one syllable words.  Just like Gwyneth’s clams, it couldn’t be simpler.

Cheers to Dlisted for posting this mess.

As I’m the Most Relevant of Bloggers, I Just Saw Coraline
March 20, 2009

Coraline was released into theaters on February 6th.  Based on my calculations, I’m right on time to catching this at the height of its buzz in the cultural zeitgeist.  But this post isn’t about blogger relevancy 101, this blog is about seeing Coraline in 3-D.  Trust me, y’all: Coraline is dazzling stuff.  For once, there’s proof in the Hollywood-poster pudding:

indeedcoraline

That pretty much sums up the experience of seeing Coraline.  “Oh. My. God.”  Or maybe “Crimminy crap, that’s stunning.”  Take your pick.  The entire aesthetic experience of the film, from the whimsical music to the fantasia of candy-colored images unafraid to get drenched in shadows, makes for a truly remarkable 100 minutes.

In case you needed a refresher on the plot (and just how fabulous those visuals are), here’s the trailer:

That’s pretty much the plot: Girl finds door to spectacular other world only to discover that it’s much more deceptive than it first seems.  I would have embedded the online-only trailer, as it gives you a much better sense of just  how surreal and dark the movie’s visuals and tone can be, but the great pleasure in seeing Coraline is that dizzying sense of discovery.  As such, here’s a link should you want to make sure it’s within your range of acceptable weirdness, but know ahead that it takes away more than a little of the fun to be had.

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“No You Girls” Has a Brilliant Video
March 19, 2009

Franz Ferdinand traditionally pumps out excellent music videos, but I think their latest video for “No You Girls” is without a doubt one of their best, and that’s not the hyperbole talking.  See for yourself:

Brilliant.  This isn’t a music video so much as a recording of a performance art installation designed and choreographed by a gay Busby Berkeley.  And that one lip-synching model looks like Alex Kapranos’s androgynous twin.  Seriously, what’s not to love?

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