That's a quote from the movie Riding the Bullet. It sums up the entire movie.
The main character is a lonely and depressed teenager angster. He is an aspiring artist. The art teacher is great. The art is exactly what you would expect from angsters, terrible with a touch of creepy.
I mean, who hasn't gotten drunk off Jack Daniels whilst sitting in your bath-tub on your birthday soaking in your own teenage angst self-pity and then contemplated suicide out of mere curiosity. Then had death visit in his dark robe and his sinister voice and syphilis face!
“Grit your teeth and cut...show them...they don't appreciate you...cut...cut...cut...cut” - No, seriously, that's straight from the movie. What a riot, I hate teenagers. At least his girlfriend has the balls to tell him that suicide is selfish and he's being a baby.
Did I mention that he has another version of himself that follows him around and tells him when he's being a dick? Well he does. And its a sure-fire way to work your angsterism out – create a physical manifestation of your partially-developed super-ego. Wonderful. Two versions of the same angster in the same place and time. Do physics, science, time-travel and Jean-Claude Van Damme allow such things? Blasphemy. Just one more person to call him a baby as far as I'm concerned.
The movie is a pilgrimage to the hospital where the main character's mother has had a stroke. He needs to choose between who dies, his mother or him. The best thing about the entire movie is the guy he finally rides with. This character is a riot and he's played by none other than David Arquette. We'll end on that positive note because the short story is excellent and the movie is passable. Hop along on Arquette's trip, its a fun one.
“Nobody lives forever but we all shine on.”
Monday, February 25, 2008
Clever Movies and Bad Actors
The Killing Floor is one of the finest written screenplays I've encountered in rented DVD's in the past few months. The movie tries to be The Usual Suspects but isn't. It also tries to be Saw but succeeds only in using the Saw theme song.
This movie plays with your head and makes you feel stupid. It does this by playing with the main character's head and demonstrating how stupid he is. If you want to feel stupid, watch this movie.
If you want to be mildly entertained by a story that keeps your attention long enough for the script to run through, watch this movie.
If you want to see some bad actors making valiant attempts at screen-acting, watch this movie.
If I only had one word to talk about this movie it would be: Clever.
The story is about a guy who buys a new apartment that is larger than a house and he starts getting mail which leads him to believe that people have died in his apartment before and there is a cover up. The guy starts trying to solve the mystery. Anyway, the guy gets screwed around and we get screwed around and...and...
Its all very clever.
This movie plays with your head and makes you feel stupid. It does this by playing with the main character's head and demonstrating how stupid he is. If you want to feel stupid, watch this movie.
If you want to be mildly entertained by a story that keeps your attention long enough for the script to run through, watch this movie.
If you want to see some bad actors making valiant attempts at screen-acting, watch this movie.
If I only had one word to talk about this movie it would be: Clever.
The story is about a guy who buys a new apartment that is larger than a house and he starts getting mail which leads him to believe that people have died in his apartment before and there is a cover up. The guy starts trying to solve the mystery. Anyway, the guy gets screwed around and we get screwed around and...and...
Its all very clever.
The Avenger, starring Sam Elliot
Sam Elliot as Frederick Forsythe's bad-ass-for-hire who seeks Justice at any cost. Need I say more?
When Wes Craven Writes Bad Characters He Thinks of North Amercian Indians
The Hills Have Eyes, Wes Craven's original, has one of the finest opening music scores. I don't what it is about banjos or gee-tars that makes you realize just how hick and in-bred white-trash something really is, but it does it alright and this movie's introduction score is trash through and through.
The movie is exactly what you would expect from Wes Craven; creepy idea, bad-to-mediocre dialogue, terrible acting and a really nasty mustache.
The mustache belongs to a weird democrat who wears short shorts. The terrible acting is a group effort which works wonderfully. The bad-to-mediocre dialogue is the sole responsibility of Wes himself. At least the idea is creepy enough to keep your attention.
Desert. Nuclear testing grounds. A retired police man who hates 'niggers', 'hill-billies' who throw dogs off of rooftops, and his wife. Did I mention the gross humanoid creatures in the hill that grunt and grunt and grunt? Well, they top the whole story off as a nice bitter, rotten cherry.
There is a religious factor to the story. This factor interacts with the human factor. The family prays to God to keep them safe while they unknowingly trespass on the land of the forgotten, the land of people who a loving God would never let exist. Wes doesn't let you focus solely on this but he puts it there and lets you cook it on the back of your brain, he even crucifies a character in a roundabout way.
All the forgotten people seem to dress like Indians. They also talk like Indians. If Wes Craven ever met a Native man who's seen this movie I expect that Native man to kick him in the balls. I've met quite a few Indians and they certainly aren't the result of exposure to nuclear testing, nor are they all descendants of the once great and holy land Chernobyl.
Wes craven is a master of horror. There is no question about his place in history. Not only does he creep us out but he lets us creep ourselves out as well. Damn imaginations. One thing is for sure though, if you don't already have an healthy and natural fear of white people, you've got plenty of reason to now.
The movie is exactly what you would expect from Wes Craven; creepy idea, bad-to-mediocre dialogue, terrible acting and a really nasty mustache.
The mustache belongs to a weird democrat who wears short shorts. The terrible acting is a group effort which works wonderfully. The bad-to-mediocre dialogue is the sole responsibility of Wes himself. At least the idea is creepy enough to keep your attention.
Desert. Nuclear testing grounds. A retired police man who hates 'niggers', 'hill-billies' who throw dogs off of rooftops, and his wife. Did I mention the gross humanoid creatures in the hill that grunt and grunt and grunt? Well, they top the whole story off as a nice bitter, rotten cherry.
There is a religious factor to the story. This factor interacts with the human factor. The family prays to God to keep them safe while they unknowingly trespass on the land of the forgotten, the land of people who a loving God would never let exist. Wes doesn't let you focus solely on this but he puts it there and lets you cook it on the back of your brain, he even crucifies a character in a roundabout way.
All the forgotten people seem to dress like Indians. They also talk like Indians. If Wes Craven ever met a Native man who's seen this movie I expect that Native man to kick him in the balls. I've met quite a few Indians and they certainly aren't the result of exposure to nuclear testing, nor are they all descendants of the once great and holy land Chernobyl.
Wes craven is a master of horror. There is no question about his place in history. Not only does he creep us out but he lets us creep ourselves out as well. Damn imaginations. One thing is for sure though, if you don't already have an healthy and natural fear of white people, you've got plenty of reason to now.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
God and Numbers and Crazy People who Happen to Like God and Numbers and Other Crazy People
The Believers.
Well. I don't know what to say. This movie kind of pissed me off but didn't at the same time. You know like when you get that itch on your back and you scratch it and it feels nice so you keep doing it and then you end up with a gash on your shoulder from scratching too much so you stop because the blood starts coming out? That's this movie.
The notion behind the movie is great, the gesture itself just sucks. Like, really sucks, I'm not even kidding you. In fact, I wish I were kidding you.
The plot is good. It has a turn or two near the end but that's just checking to see if you've either A) walked out of the theatre or B) fallen asleep.
Basically, there is a group of people called the Quanta group or something I guess and they all look weird. They are scientists, which explains the weirdness, and they all love math. They have some equation they follow that reveals everything to them.
No kidding. Everything. They plan on leaving the planet just before it dies and they hold the key to passing into another realm and leading mankind because mankind is too dumb to listen.
Anyway, they all believe this crap and there are a few good lines murmured by bad actors. Best line of the whole movie runs a little something like this: Numbers don't lie, people do.
Well, I'll be, thanks Sherlock, or Watson, I had no idea. I could get into the debate about numbers doing exactly what we tell them to time and again, but I won't. That goes against God. Who, according to this script, is numbers. One and the same.
Whatever happened to the word? Whatever. The writer or writers or monkeys getting drunk and head butting typewriters must have walked away from the script and left an angry teenage angster (I said it, angst-ridden teenagers, feel free to use it anytime) to control the story. Why? Because all those bad actors suddenly start saying 'Fuck' about as often as they inhale.
So, the idea for the story is intriguing and the manifestation of this idea is rancid. Not one good actor in the whole lot. Its like a college theatre production. At least I can walk away with a good idea to kick around, whatever that's worth.
Go see it if you want but don't blame me when you realize it sucks.
Well. I don't know what to say. This movie kind of pissed me off but didn't at the same time. You know like when you get that itch on your back and you scratch it and it feels nice so you keep doing it and then you end up with a gash on your shoulder from scratching too much so you stop because the blood starts coming out? That's this movie.
The notion behind the movie is great, the gesture itself just sucks. Like, really sucks, I'm not even kidding you. In fact, I wish I were kidding you.
The plot is good. It has a turn or two near the end but that's just checking to see if you've either A) walked out of the theatre or B) fallen asleep.
Basically, there is a group of people called the Quanta group or something I guess and they all look weird. They are scientists, which explains the weirdness, and they all love math. They have some equation they follow that reveals everything to them.
No kidding. Everything. They plan on leaving the planet just before it dies and they hold the key to passing into another realm and leading mankind because mankind is too dumb to listen.
Anyway, they all believe this crap and there are a few good lines murmured by bad actors. Best line of the whole movie runs a little something like this: Numbers don't lie, people do.
Well, I'll be, thanks Sherlock, or Watson, I had no idea. I could get into the debate about numbers doing exactly what we tell them to time and again, but I won't. That goes against God. Who, according to this script, is numbers. One and the same.
Whatever happened to the word? Whatever. The writer or writers or monkeys getting drunk and head butting typewriters must have walked away from the script and left an angry teenage angster (I said it, angst-ridden teenagers, feel free to use it anytime) to control the story. Why? Because all those bad actors suddenly start saying 'Fuck' about as often as they inhale.
So, the idea for the story is intriguing and the manifestation of this idea is rancid. Not one good actor in the whole lot. Its like a college theatre production. At least I can walk away with a good idea to kick around, whatever that's worth.
Go see it if you want but don't blame me when you realize it sucks.
I Hate Middle-Class America as Much as the Next Guy...But John Turturro Takes My Breath Away
Romance and Cigarettes is fantabulous. When John Turturro and the Coen brothers get together the only thing left to do is wet yourself.
This is a love story musical. The kind of love you find in working-class America. What kind is that, you ask. The kind of love that exists between a fat man and his whore. Followed, of course, by the love between the fat man and his wife later on.
The story is rich in dialogue and the incorporation of the songs is a nice touch. Christopher Walken shows up and loves Elvis way too much, not to mention loves sex way too much, and the idea of Steve Buscemi talking about circumcision, porn stars, wanting to have sex with fat girls and living at home, all of which, by the way, occurs on top of a bridge, is perhaps the most tantalizing idea I've ever come across.
James Gandolfini, The Don himself, is the man who falls in love with his red-headed whore and then falls out of love with said whore only to return to his wife, Susan Sarandon. He decides that perhaps his troubles will go away if he gets circumcised. So he gets surgery.
Mandy Moore hangs out in the movie as part of a band and daughter to the fat man who loves his whore, she does exactly what you would expect from someone like Mandy Moore; sing a little, act a little-bit littler, look nice.
The whore of the story is none other than Kate Winslet. Heck yes, about time we saw her get some down and dirty roles. Her character is unforgettable and everything she says makes you laugh, not to mention turns you on - sort of.
In the end, we are left with a tragic love story where the middle class have only each other. Who else can they love? Who else will love them?
This is a love story musical. The kind of love you find in working-class America. What kind is that, you ask. The kind of love that exists between a fat man and his whore. Followed, of course, by the love between the fat man and his wife later on.
The story is rich in dialogue and the incorporation of the songs is a nice touch. Christopher Walken shows up and loves Elvis way too much, not to mention loves sex way too much, and the idea of Steve Buscemi talking about circumcision, porn stars, wanting to have sex with fat girls and living at home, all of which, by the way, occurs on top of a bridge, is perhaps the most tantalizing idea I've ever come across.
James Gandolfini, The Don himself, is the man who falls in love with his red-headed whore and then falls out of love with said whore only to return to his wife, Susan Sarandon. He decides that perhaps his troubles will go away if he gets circumcised. So he gets surgery.
Mandy Moore hangs out in the movie as part of a band and daughter to the fat man who loves his whore, she does exactly what you would expect from someone like Mandy Moore; sing a little, act a little-bit littler, look nice.
The whore of the story is none other than Kate Winslet. Heck yes, about time we saw her get some down and dirty roles. Her character is unforgettable and everything she says makes you laugh, not to mention turns you on - sort of.
In the end, we are left with a tragic love story where the middle class have only each other. Who else can they love? Who else will love them?
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
The Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) is a wonder to behold. It is at once science fiction, conspiracy, paranoia and Leonard Nimoy.
The movie recreates the good old days when Senators stood for America(!) and black-listed commies went to France where they belonged! The gist of the story is as follows: Alien spores come from many planets away and they pet human beings with fuzzy appendages and then they build replicas of them and then spit them out of a spore that looks like a flower and a vagina and then the replica is covered in fur and wakes up fully developed when the original is sleeping. Then the body disappears somehow, magic spore business that is all quite secretive, and the replicas take over and are shown one at a time throwing away the fur.
That's a lot of fur you say? It sure as heck is. And we watch it almost every single time for every single person changed. The movie is almost 2 hours running time and moves at a sauntering pace watching garbage trucks. In all honesty, the garbage company must have paid a lot of money toward the production of this film.
No matter what Donald Sutherland does to save the planet and the people he deems worthy of saving, all attempts are stopped by the replicated humans who spend a lot of time walking in rows or staring at the wall. He behaves questionably by only destroying his replica instead of his friends, hmmm, bastard. Every help-line you dial tells you to keep your mouth shut in very polite ways and eventually everyone knows exactly who you are when you call...you know why?
Because you are one of the only normal people left so it has to be you! Which means what? That's right, all your worst paranoid nightmares are true, they are out to get you! They are coming for you! They will make you one of them and then your individuality, which you probably hold so dearly and sacredly, will be no more! The commies are coming and they will change you for bad!
Oh, wait, I got that last part wrong. If Wisconsinian[?] McCarthy and his totalitarian regime and its movement for the purification Amerikkka by paranoid undereducated retards whose thick accents are the result of booze and inbreeding were granted uncontested control, they would be the blasted spores! I can just picture McCarthy's booze-riddled face and rat's-nest of a head staring at the girl at the end of the movie and screaming AWWWWW!
That's what they do when they notice you aren't an alien, they scream. Its all pretty awesome. Fortunately, the casting director was intelligent enough to get Leonard Nimoy to play a role in the movie. Unfortunately, the great man from Star Trek, the old and new Outer Limits, and the rocksome [an elegant mixture of rockin' and awesome] Transformers, that's right, Galvitron himself, doesn't get to scream once in the whole movie. But he's damn weird enough for you to note right away that something ain't right about him. And this time its not his ears.
Jeff Goldblum shows up but he doesn't transform into a fly. A little let down there. But its like the director said, look Jeff, you know how you can't act but want to and its really frustrating. And he looked at the director and said I don't know what you're talking about. And the director said Perfect, just act that way toward Leonard Nimoy when your lines come. And Jeff looked confused and the camera started rolling right away. Brilliant.
This movie is great on so many levels but its basic substance is paranoia. This movie will be wonderful to watch until we are no longer paranoid in which case we can get rid of the movie in which case we won't be human anymore in which case the spores got the best of us and we will need to kick ass and chew bubble gum and we'll hopefully be all outta bubble gum.
Those alien bastards.
The movie recreates the good old days when Senators stood for America(!) and black-listed commies went to France where they belonged! The gist of the story is as follows: Alien spores come from many planets away and they pet human beings with fuzzy appendages and then they build replicas of them and then spit them out of a spore that looks like a flower and a vagina and then the replica is covered in fur and wakes up fully developed when the original is sleeping. Then the body disappears somehow, magic spore business that is all quite secretive, and the replicas take over and are shown one at a time throwing away the fur.
That's a lot of fur you say? It sure as heck is. And we watch it almost every single time for every single person changed. The movie is almost 2 hours running time and moves at a sauntering pace watching garbage trucks. In all honesty, the garbage company must have paid a lot of money toward the production of this film.
No matter what Donald Sutherland does to save the planet and the people he deems worthy of saving, all attempts are stopped by the replicated humans who spend a lot of time walking in rows or staring at the wall. He behaves questionably by only destroying his replica instead of his friends, hmmm, bastard. Every help-line you dial tells you to keep your mouth shut in very polite ways and eventually everyone knows exactly who you are when you call...you know why?
Because you are one of the only normal people left so it has to be you! Which means what? That's right, all your worst paranoid nightmares are true, they are out to get you! They are coming for you! They will make you one of them and then your individuality, which you probably hold so dearly and sacredly, will be no more! The commies are coming and they will change you for bad!
Oh, wait, I got that last part wrong. If Wisconsinian[?] McCarthy and his totalitarian regime and its movement for the purification Amerikkka by paranoid undereducated retards whose thick accents are the result of booze and inbreeding were granted uncontested control, they would be the blasted spores! I can just picture McCarthy's booze-riddled face and rat's-nest of a head staring at the girl at the end of the movie and screaming AWWWWW!
That's what they do when they notice you aren't an alien, they scream. Its all pretty awesome. Fortunately, the casting director was intelligent enough to get Leonard Nimoy to play a role in the movie. Unfortunately, the great man from Star Trek, the old and new Outer Limits, and the rocksome [an elegant mixture of rockin' and awesome] Transformers, that's right, Galvitron himself, doesn't get to scream once in the whole movie. But he's damn weird enough for you to note right away that something ain't right about him. And this time its not his ears.
Jeff Goldblum shows up but he doesn't transform into a fly. A little let down there. But its like the director said, look Jeff, you know how you can't act but want to and its really frustrating. And he looked at the director and said I don't know what you're talking about. And the director said Perfect, just act that way toward Leonard Nimoy when your lines come. And Jeff looked confused and the camera started rolling right away. Brilliant.
This movie is great on so many levels but its basic substance is paranoia. This movie will be wonderful to watch until we are no longer paranoid in which case we can get rid of the movie in which case we won't be human anymore in which case the spores got the best of us and we will need to kick ass and chew bubble gum and we'll hopefully be all outta bubble gum.
Those alien bastards.
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