Netflix This:

Last Cup

     Documentaries are great for a myriad of reasons: they tell the story of an interesting person's life, an important political or social issue, the savagery of war, or a world-changing event in history. Last Cup: Road to the World Series of Beer Pong is a documentary about an obscure (in the eyes of many non-college goers) sport that involves drinking copious amounts of beer and throwing ping-pong balls into cups. Like any entertaining documentary, Last Cup takes a subject that the majority of the world population doesn't give a shit about and makes it exciting, funny, and emotional. And that's mainly due to the human touch: similar to the wonderful King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (which followed the underdogs and the champion at professional arcade Donkey Kong playing), Last Cup tracks a select few twosome groups as they vie for the top spot in the  World Series of Beer Pong (which, at this point in time, pays out $50,000). That's the simple plot. Cameras follow these people who have decided to make it their life's mission to travel around to various bars and events, training to reach the apex of plunking ability.
     For the uninitiated (any old people who are reading this) the basics of Beer Pong (also known as Beirut) are pretty straightforward. They need to be, since after a few games your buzz may outweigh your hand-eye coordination by a large margin. You have a table with two distinct sides. You have a team of two on each side. You line a pyramid of cups half full with beer in each and take turns throwing a pong ball into the the other team's cups. Drink the beer in the cup when a ball is made. If you and your teammate both make the ball, you get to shoot again. And boy are the characters in this film awesome at it. You've got Tone from New Jersey, a roided freak with rage to match his passion for making clutch shots and playing shirtless. You've got The Iceman, a morbidly obese Jonah Hill-lookalike (seriously, he looks exactly like him) who makes a risky decision to take an eccentric rookie partner to the World Series. Shawn takes it to another level of obsessiveness: a skillful computer engineer, he designs a program and tracks every single shot and analyzes his statistics for hours after every match.
     These people and their unbelievable love of the game is entertaining enough, but add the beer and things get really interesting: spectators get in for free, and as time passes, beer and emotions flow. Crowds scream at competitors as they shoot, and they especially take a cruel (but funny) heckling to the shirtless Tone. It isn't all just fun and games though--there is real drama here. These guys have been training for months for this moment, and they act as if their livelihood depends on it. And that's ultimately what Last Cup is about: although some may find the plight of these men pathetic and joke-worthy, it's better to be the best at something than be the best at nothing.

No Transformation for the Transformers Franchise

     Are you feeling bored on this lazy Sunday afternoon? Maybe you've got some free time after a long 9-5 workday at some point this week? Maybe you're thinking about going to your local cinema to check out the new (of course in "glorious" 3-D) worldwide hit, Transformers: Dark of the Moon? My advice: don't. Instead, grab a group of friends, head to the nearest scrap yard and spend $15 each (the price of IMAX admission) on various pieces of jagged, big and colorful junk metal. Head home, go out to your back yard, and smash these pieces together as fast and as loud as you can. It'll help if you utter tired, cliche catchphrases in a deep, booming voice. Have your hottest female friend run around looking stupid, preferably in a pair of sexy panties or a low-cut shirt that exposes most of her perfect breasts (not that you'll actually get to see them; this is "family" fun after all). That would be money more smartly spent. Transformers: Dark of the Moon--though better than the atrocious Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen--is an overlong and incoherent mess of a film, stuffed with a who-cares-plot, hilariously unfunny humor and a confusing assortment of action set pieces.
     Things begin in the past: we learn that mankind's mission to the moon was actually a secret plot to investigate an alien crash landing that occurred on the "dark side" (hence the film's title). We get a lot of old and real news clips intersected with the alternate version of what really happened on the moon. This alternate history plot starts off cool enough, but things go quickly downhill from there: this crashed ship was carrying the "good" transformers away from their home planet so they could continue their struggle against the evil bots. The human beings, led as always by the annoying Sam Witwicky (a role that Shia Ladoof must be dead tired of playing by now) are as disposable as ever: there's his new supermodel girlfriend (forget the Transformers, to watch these films your biggest suspension of disbelief has to be this little shit getting chicks this hot), the hard-ass government agent played by Frances McDormand (clearly just waiting for a call from the Coen brothers), a couple of elite warriors portrayed by Tyrese and Raylan Givens' twin brother, and Patrick Dempsey in a villainous role. Actin' class this ain't.
     Enough about the humans. Clearly, they are not what these films are about. They are about millions of special effects dollars spent on intricate transformations of robots and the big metal battles that ensue. Unfortunately, these battles are as emotionless as Sam's new girlfriend's Botoxed face. (Sometimes I wonder why these films make hundreds of millions of dollars at the box office, but then I remember that millions of people watch Fox News on a daily basis.) Obviously, a lot of the problems with the huge Transformer fights fall right into the lap of director Michael Bay. This dude, who used to make entertaining action films such as The Rock, has clearly got an enormous ego to match his rock-hard erection for gigantic explosions, bangs and clangs. His trilogy of Transformers films are as predictable as his tiring and head-scratching fight scenes. Step 1: show hot girl or Sam with his cringe-inducing parents, usually with a terrible rock ballad playing in the background. Step 2: have important people or government agents talk about the fate of Earth and how it is in peril for one reason or another, usually reasons that don't make much sense. Step 3: Show a loud action set piece showing any combination of humans, good and bad Transformers, and exploding cars and buildings. Repeat.
     These movies actually had potential to be entertaining. With a little more narrative coherency, a more emotional and original way to portray each machine's plight and battle, and actual, real humor, the Transformers franchise could have been taken in a much more rewarding direction. Transformers: Dark of the Moon, like its predecessors, left me feeling empty. Lately, internet rumors have stated that this will be Michael Bay's last journey into the Transformers universe and that Jason Statham may take over the lead actor role, two sparks that might ignite a fire into this franchise (we can hope). But for Bay, his trilogy involving Transformers was a massive success. He's wiping his ass with $100 bills, and I'm stuck in the theater's public restroom using one-ply.     (D+)

What You'll Want to be Watching:

                                                   
                                                Drive

    The originality and exciting nature of Nicolas Winding Refn's direction has been discussed before: starting with the Pusher trilogy and following with the great and insane Bronson and Valhalla Rising, Refn's films are (from now on, especially) films in which I totally get excited for. This won't change anytime soon when on September 16th, Refn's film Drive gets released into cinemas. It is easily one of my most (if not the most) anticipated picture of 2011. Early word is that it should be one of yours too. But the direction clearly isn't the only thing to get pumped for: it's Tobias Grindal I mean Ryan Gosling in an action-movie role. Lately, Gosling has been showing us all what it's like being a fucking great actor who can make any film better, something that anyone would be well aware of if they had seen 2001's The Believer when it was released. 

      If you've seen Refn's other work, it's easy to surmise that the plot of Drive has potential to be exciting and ultra-violent: based on a 2005 book of the same name by James Sallis, Drive deals with a Hollywood stunt driver (played by Gosling) who moonlights as a getaway driver for criminal activity. Things get crazy when he realizes a contract has been put on his life after a heist has gone wrong. It definitely has some potential in the right hands; this film is clearly in the right hands. The novel, at only 158 pages, was a fast, noir-ish thriller with mystery and extreme violence. Some say Gosling's character reminds them of old school movie heroes, who don't talk much but speak with their actions. Early reviews say those actions are totally badass and shocking. I've tried to stay away from specific plots points about the film, because I want the suspense to be totally unspoiled. Like many old westerns and Samurai films, the action is supposed to unexpected and brutal.

     I am expecting to be in love with Drive when it is released. Every aspect of it sounds great. Take a look at the co-stars: one is Bryan Cranston (known around these parts as Walter White). Another is Christina Hendricks, better known as the big-titted, huge-assed Joan from Mad Men. The seedy underbelly of Los Angeles looks to be another "co-star". They are intense images that are not often seen in films. Since many of the scenes take place inside of a car, Refn employs a "biscuit rig", which is a camera system that allows its actors to focus on acting instead of driving. Drive opened at the 2011 Cannes film festival to significantly rave reviews, with many saying the film has potential to become an international hit instead of just a noir geek-gasm that it will definitely be. I'm pumped. You should be too. See you September 16th. 

Netflix This:

Buried

     The granite-hard abs of Ryan Reynolds are undeniably super sexy, and though I am "Interested in: Women", even I can admit that if I were a budding young broad my panties would become drenched just thinking of him. This some-would-say-disgusting, others-would-say-funny statement is interesting for a couple of reasons: what's the first thing one thinks of when hearing the name Ryan Reynolds? Most women and 'mo's would state his bangin' bod (and clearly some hot-blooded American heteros such as myself would say the same thing). This makes 2010's film Buried even more impressive. It's a great movie, an intense thriller, it showcases a wonderful performance by Reynolds, and it does not feature his stomach in a prominent role!
     I feel like there are probably some major misconceptions about this film: since Reynolds is such a fantasy for women and gays, the title can be a bit misleading. Women: this movie is not about Reynolds burying his freshly-shaved Brut-slathered face in your tits, as much as you would like it to be. Gays: this movie is not about Reynolds burying his enormous (you hope) package deep inside your rectal cavity. Now, I love gays and women as much as the next socially-liberal intelligent person, and I'm sorry to burst your bubble about what's getting buried in this film. You see, Reynolds himself is buried (not in the nude either).

Randomly throwing this in here for my gay and women readers (all 3 of you?):

     If you could boil Buried down to its basic elements, it plays like the great scene in Kill Bill Volume 2 where The Bride is buried alive inside of a coffin. Only in Buried, it's for the entire run time. Reynolds spends the whole movie inside a coffin. There are no background or flash-forward scenes that take place outside of the small wooden box that is (maybe) 6 feet underground. He is buried alive with a few items (not sex toys), one if which is a cell phone that barely can make calls (due to the obvious of being inside of a coffin). Now I know this sounds like a dream come true for many of you, trapping R. R. alone inside of a dark space with nothing but the stench of his sweat and his labored breathing, but get your mind out of the gutter because this film is intense (not in a sexual way). 

     Years ago, I watched Van Wilder when it came out, and I thought it was hilarious. Maybe I wouldn't appreciate it as much on repeat viewings, but it clearly shows that Reynolds can be entertaining. Since then, his choice of roles has left something to be desired for film lovers--unless you count co-starring with Sandra Bullock in a romantic comedy a good thing (which I don't). Buried is different. It's exciting, claustrophobic and it doesn't cop-out at the end. The fun is unraveling the mystery of why he is in the coffin, the phone calls he chooses to make with a dying cell, and his dealing of an unwanted visitor. Some might say the film is just a worthless stunt, and others might say it's just a film that shows Ryan Reynolds can carry a non-romantic comedy film on his own (which he actually does). I say it's a discomforting, anxiety-filled nightmare of a situation that is portrayed beautifully onto film due to its acting and direction--perfect for a dark and rainy weekend evening. 

What You'll Want to be Watching:

                                               
                                       Hell on Wheels

     In my humble (but usually correct when it comes to film and television) opinion, the series Hell on Wheels sounds like an absolute perfect fit for AMC network. I've discussed my love of Breaking Bad and Mad Men before this moment, but with the network's recent good-on-first-watch The Walking Dead and the occasionally brilliant The Killing, with its sure to be surprising season finale this Sunday, AMC has easily solidified second place in the television station battle of great dramas. Surely they will continue nurturing their strengths with this potential gem: Hell on Wheels is set just after the Civil War, and it portrays the story of a former Confederate soldier (played by Anson Mount, a newcomer to a stage this big) who is on a mission of revenge--a mission that takes him to the building of America's first Transcontinental railroad.

     Who doesn't love a good Western? I know I do: throughout the past few years, westerns have been some of my favorites; last year's True Grit was obviously great, and 2007's There Will Be Blood is one of my favorite films of all time. A 10-episode series set in the Western time period on one of the most exciting networks today? Consider me fucking pumped. Early word is that it's a modern-style thriller set in the West, and apparently the revenge involved deals with the former soldier tracking down the Union soldiers who murdered his wife, presumably by working on the railroad in the same area in which they live. 

The Badass trailer:

     The trailer isn't the greatest quality, but it's fairly easy to see that the show has potential to be essential Sunday night (I'm assuming Sunday night) entertainment. There's no word yet on a release date, but I'm assuming in the fall, maybe in the 10 P.M. slot after The Walking Dead. Many would say that I am stating this due to the fact that I am alive and viewing shows during this time period, but in my eyes the last 10 years have been the Golden Age of Television. Never before have there been so many stellar television series that continue to push the boundaries in terms of quality and boner-inducing moments. After the great final season of Big Love, the solid Game of Thrones, the upcoming seasons of Breaking Bad and Boardwalk Empire, and the soon-to-be airing Hell on Wheels, here's hoping the quality continues. I'm confident it will. 

A Monster Summer Movie: Super 8

     Thirty years ago this weekend, Steven Spielberg hit his stride with directing the first Indiana Jones film, Raiders of the Lost Ark. As we all know, that great film combined action, adventure, humor and danger to form two hours of pure fun. It's fitting then, that J. J. Abrams, a Spielbergian protege, steps up to the plate decades later with Super 8 to take his swing at creating a summer blockbuster that reminds us of watching films when we were younger, when the world was at our feet and our eyes were filled with wonder over what was transpiring on the large screen. Tony Soprano once said that "'Remember when' is the lowest form of conversation." Thankfully, that does not apply to movies: Super 8 is like remembering that essence of childhood that adults barely remember, and above all, remembering what it's like to witness a wildly exciting and touching summer film.
     And it is like those old Spielberg films, such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T. But it's a new and exciting take that uses all of the advances in film technique, style, and story to tell a completely new tale. Kids riding around on bikes and making movies with old super 8 cameras, the first feelings of being fascinated with girls, the terrifying excitement of witnessing a disastrous event--these things transpire with an attentiveness and awe that is hardly ever reached for most other take-your-entire-family summer entertainment. Mentioning films that are similar to a new film is usually a detriment, but here it actually works, and it's like watching The Goonies for the first time as a child.
     I'm deliberately not going to delve too far into the story, so here are the basics: set in a small town in the 1970's, a group of friends (all with vividly different personalities and interests [all of which come into play in creative ways later in the film]) are making a short film to enter into a local contest. These are hardcore future movie makers, not unlike Abrams and Spielberg were as children, and they take their job very seriously, so when a train is about to pass through one of the pivotal scenes in their homemade film, they are excited about the added production value. Thing's don't go as planned when the train is derailed (accidentally or intentionally?) and explodes in front of them.

     From this point on, Hell breaks loose in the lives of the kids involved. At this young point in his career, J.J. Abrams is already very adept at creating new and exciting ways for Hell to break loose: his previous two directing efforts were the action-packed (and best of the trilogy) Mission Impossible: III and the awesome reboot of Star Trek that I would watch any day over the dated and shitty old versions, and he also was the co-creator at the beginning of ABC's Lost, when it was just great network television and hadn't gotten all alternate reality/purgatory on us. That's not to say that Abrams is only a one-trick pony, executing cool action scenes with ease: quite the contrary. Some of the best parts of the film are the realistic portrayals of relationships--the relationships between teenage boys and girls, their friends, and their parents, whether they're still on this Earth or not. The film slowly unravels the mystery of the crushed train's cargo on a backdrop filled with boyhood's love of summer, girls and butterflies in the belly.
     Super 8 edges out Source Code as my favorite movie so far of 2011, and the way that the year is shaping up in regards to future releases, I can easily surmise that it will be near the top in the end. Like many reviewers have said, it's like watching an early Spielberg film for the first time. The key word is Nostalgia, something that I'm not usually a sucker for but works wonders when it's done correctly. Super 8 does it correctly. As Don Draper once said: "Nostalgia: it's delicate, but potent."     (A)

A Pretty Kickass First Class

     Plenty of good things are inside the 131 minute run time of X-Men: First Class, director Matthew Vaughn's second major studio film after Kickass. However, there are two great things: Michael Fassbender's wonderful acting, which is at times over-the-top (in a good way) but is always powerful, and Betty Draper's (January Jones) luscious--with a size that I never would have imagined--tits. It's safe to say that January Jones is a wooden actress, who is generally bad at showing emotion (which is why her bitch character on Mad Men works so well), and it's also safe to say that there is a reason why most of her scenes are in bras or bikini tops that seem two sizes too small: her acting may be wooden, but that won't change the fact that most of the male audience will be wooden in a different way. As in they will have wood. (Boners.) But I digress: First Class is a fun movie with a 60's feel, it has many interesting and exciting performances from great talent, and although it may not be the best comic-based film to be released this year, it's still a fun time with new takes on old characters.
     Speaking of that 1960's feel, the film's plot puts the tensions of the timeline into good use; its major catastrophe deals with the missile crisis. As anyone who has seen the trailer should know, First Class takes place before the decades of all of the X-Men films that have been released to theaters. It's an origin story for certain characters, taking a look at the beginnings of two of the old-as-we've-seen-them main characters: Magneto and Professor X. We see Magneto (Fassbender) as a child, as he learns to move metals with his mind. In a different part of the world, Oxford, we meet Professor X (James McAvoy), who is a genius when it comes to genetic mutations and creatively uses this knowledge to try and pick up attractive girls at bars. Once the two characters meet, they realize they have a common (and ruthless enemy): a man by the name of Sebastian Shaw, in a role that Kevin Bacon looks like he is having fun with. With the way Shaw acts, shooting unarmed women and using his genetic mutation to absorb energy around him to powerful effect, it's no wonder that the CIA finds him to be an essential threat. So when the CIA recruits Xavier and the mutants that he has found to help stop Shaw (along with Magneto), high-tech gadgetry, violence, and humor ensue on a backdrop dealing with a potential world-ending event.

     Much of First Class deals with a young high-school to college age group of mutants that X. and Magneto recruit to train and let them know that they are not alone in the world--they can use their amazing powers for good causes.  Unfortunately, this is also where the film falters: yes, some of these young freaks have cool powers that are used in the great climax action sequence in the film, but overall, I was wishing that I was watching Fassbender ham it up as Magneto. The young glances of love and the immature nature of the childish characters was more like watching X-Men: Twilight instead of a badass summer comic book movie. Maybe I'm overreacting a little bit, and maybe it's just a testament to Fassbender's screen presence: after his heart-breaking turn in Hunger, his small but brilliant role in Inglorious Basterds, and his charming yet frightening characterization in Fish Tank, I wonder how many times I will have to mention him before people realize that he is one of the most exciting actors to watch and will be for a long time to come.
     As I stated before, director Matthew Vaughn's previous film was last year's Kick-Ass, which was my 6th favorite movie of 2010. First Class isn't nearly as good as that film, but it is still packed with action, explosions and witty humor--just of the PG-13 variety. It's a serviceable comic-book action movie with flashes of brilliance, mainly due to the two lead actors and their respective acting prowess. But it also has moments of eye-rolling, with some of the interactions between the younger characters, the stupidity of the government portrayal, and the acting of January Jones coming to mind. But with a scandal breaking that director Matthew Vaughn had an affair with and impregnated Ms. Jones during filming, it sort of makes sense: who needs acting when you have a pair of tits like that?     (B)

The Bridesmaids Review

     I'm not one of those guys that refuses to see a film with a female-driven story with actresses talking about their menstrual cycles and relationship problems. I refuse to see films with female-driven stories with those issues that suck, which--unfortunately for many women and their poor men who get dragged to these piles of feces--is the majority of movies about weddings and finding your one true love. Thankfully, I could tell that Bridesmaids was one of the good ones, one of the ones that was made for the viewer's benefit and not the economic bottom line. Starring and partly written by SNL's Kristen Wiig (who is starting to turn heads in films such as Paul and MacGruber), Bridesmaids is a great success for a few reasons: the film shows the true comedy, emotions and insecurities that all women feel when their friends are getting hitched, it does an amazing job of dealing with the entire eclectic mix of women that get introduced (and keeping them distinctly original and separate in character), and Wiig's performance, which is both emotional and physical, is one of the most honest I've seen in a comedy.  Above all, Bridesmaids solidified my thinking in that most weddings (and more specifically wedding planning)--no matter the who/what/where--bring out the worst in people.
     Wiig portrays a girl named Annie, whose cake shop has gone under since the beginning of the economic recession. She's been best friends with Lillian for years and years, and they get together often to drink wine, read Us magazine and talk about how weird penises are, especially when a man rests them on their face while sleeping. Annie's also involved in a one-sided relationship with Jon Hamm, who beautifully plays a rich, douchey, even more sex-obsessed version of Don Draper. She's down on her luck, stuck in a limbo of emotionless sex and a dead-end job at a jewelry store (the setting for some great scenes due to her brash honesty about relationships and friendship to love-drunk customers). What could be Annie's rock bottom? That is a question that constantly gets raised and then one-upped throughout the film, starting with her best friend Lillian's engagement.

     You see, Lillian has been best friends with Annie forever, but ever since meeting her soon-to-be-husband, Lillian has also becomes friends with Helen (her husband's employer's wife), a rich bitch that is clearly trying to drive a wedge in between Annie and Lillian's long-term friendship. Helen, portrayed in an extremely cunty (but effective) way by Rose Byrne, needs everything to be perfect. She is also in the wedding party (Annie is the maid of honor), but she is one of those people that loves planning every little detail of any major event. As Helen consistently tries to steal Annie's ideas about the engagement party, bachelorette party, and the wedding itself, drunken jealousy, dirty looks, insecurities and anger reach a boiling point of hilarious hijinks.
     Back to Wiig: the movie is great because of her. Yes, there are many highlights from the other members of the bridal party, but they are usually a little more obvious and over-the-top than Wiig's honest and insecure performance of a woman who feels left behind in a world of successful careers and loving relationships. The key is that both men and women can relate to her plight. Every human experiences some form of jealousy and self-consciousness during major events (like a wedding), and sometimes we just want it to be over and done with. And although, as the film reaches a higher and higher minute in runtime, the movie does subscribe to some of the same old tired tropes that many women- or wedding-centric films rely on (specifically Wiig slowly realizing she wants a sweet and generous man instead of just a misogynistic fuck-buddy), Bridesmaids puts smiles on faces and warmth into even the most skeptical of hearts.     (A-)

Netflix This:

Blue Valentine

     Realism is unbelievably important when making a good film about the highs and lows of a marriage or relationship. To raise above the general bullshit chick-flick films about empowered women and princely men, a filmmaker must tap into much deeper emotional wells to make sure that the viewer relates to the man or woman--the good aspects or the bad. I'm talking about the tiny things that occur during an argument, a joyous occasion, or spontaneous sex: a disappointed look that hurts much worse than a punch to the head, an exclamation of tearful laughter, or the slight breath that escapes during a moment of pleasure/pain. Blue Valentine, a film by Derek Cianfrance and starring the great Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, succeeds not only because the wonderful actors involved, but particularly because of these small moments that truly make you feel like you're witnessing the full spectrum of events in a relationship, including make-ups, break-ups and cunnilingus.
     The film basically portrays a marriage that maybe wasn't meant to be. It isn't told in chronological order, so the scenes skip between before, after and during the courtship. Blue Valentine starts off close to the end chronologically, and it's a great way to begin because of all of the questions that are raised: you see, normally we see Gosling as a hip, slick, well-dressed gent in nearly all of the films he is in. But from the first moment we see him in Blue Valentine, he's chubbed up, has a receding hairline, wears glasses that resemble a pedophiles, and--best of all--wears a black sweatshirt with a picture of an eagle on it, similar to something a 5th grader or a mildly-retarded amateur bass fisherman would throw on in the morning.  Clearly, the love between Dean (Gosling) and Cindy (Williams) is not what it once was. They have a daughter, and are just going through the motions, with Dean being a house painter who starts drinking The King of Beers around 8 A.M. on weekdays, and Cindy working as a nurse with a sketchy Doctor co-worker. The film then jumps back in time from there, depicting many events throughout their once loving now hating relationship.

     This film works much better than other similar films because of one reason (a reason that causes all of those little realistic moments that the viewer can relate to): the improvised nature of the script and the film in general. Much of the film was unscripted, with Gosling and Williams improvising their dialogue between each other on many occasions. Many of the fights seem extremely honest and real (and may be tough to watch for some people); for instance, there is a great scene that includes an incredible back-and-forth between Dean and Cindy about a former lover that Cindy sees in a liquor store that is especially poignant. Also, one of the better scenes of the entire year of 2010 involves Dean and Cindy both losing their shit inside Cindy's workplace. There's a reason for this naturalistic approach: prior to filming some of the more intense fights between the couple, the director had Gosling and Williams rent a home for a period of time and only have the money that their character's income would produce. They had much more time to represent a real couple with real problems than many other actors.
    One of the small problems with the film deals with the question, "what exactly went wrong?" Maybe it's my sexist subconscious speaking, but I feel like Dean didn't really do anything wrong to deserve the hatred that Cindy feels for him in specific scenes during the movie. And if you agree with his point of view, it's hard to see what more he could do. Blue Valentine, although clearly about a relationship, can more specifically be described as a cautionary tale about some people who can just, simply, fall out of love. The excitement that is felt at the beginning of a relationship can quickly morph into something more destructive: the slow decline of hope of what is still to come.

Netflix This:

The Staircase

     How do we really know is someone is guilty or innocent of a murder when looking at a blood-filled crime scene, if evidence does not exist? What if there was no murder weapon? Is it time to reexamine our justice system? Is it time to reexamine the faith we put in the intelligence of a random jury to come to the correct conclusions? These are just a few of the questions that are raised in this intense and immensely entertaining documentary. The Staircase, consisting of eight 45-minute episodes (a commitment, I know), is one my best Netflix finds in a very long time. Directed by Jean-Xavier de Lestrade (who won an Oscar for best documentary in 2001), the film follows the life and murder trial of author Michael Peterson, who in 2001 called 911 and hysterically screamed that his wife Kathleen had fallen down the stairs.
     To fully immerse yourself in The Staircase, it's best not to know too much about the specifics of the trial and absolutely incredible information, finds, and coincidences that happen throughout the long process of the investigation. So I will avoid too much information here, and if you're interested in seeing the 6-hour documentary, avoid information about it everywhere. A 6-hour documentary about the mysteries and suspicions of a man tried for murder may not seem like that great of a time, but you would be wrong. The Staircase's 6 hours were culled from 300 total hours of footage and basically offers a full purview of the defense's preparations and intricate strategies in defending Michael Peterson. It also shows the influence of the press in regards to their biased opinions on aspects of the trial.
     It's pertinent to know the basics: Michael Peterson calls 911. His wife has supposedly fallen down the stairs. Her blood alcohol content is .07, and she also has Valium in her system. The problem, as you can see in the picture to the left, is the severe injuries that Peterson's wife sustained in the supposed fall (and yes, the film does show every aspect of the trial, including graphic crime scene and autopsy photos of Kathleen). She has a fracture of the thyroid neck cartilage and extremely severe lacerations on the top of her head. Much of the film deals with the competing conclusions from two separate blood pattern analysts. (Where's Dexter when you need him?) Obviously, the prosecution uses the vivid and graphic images of the injures and poses the question, how could these injuries be from a fall down the stairs? The defense's opinion is the she fell backwards coming up the turn in the stairs and repeatedly continues to fall while slipping on her own blood. Michael Peterson has no blood splatter on his clothing, there is no cast-off  blood from swinging a weapon up and down or side to side, and there is no murder weapon to be found. As I stated before, these are just the basics. Numerous insane happenings and coincidences dig the mystery deeper and deeper, and they involve the the home life of Peterson and their many children, the missing murder weapon, the questionable motives and sexuality of the people involved, and another similar death that turns the case on its head. By the time Episode 8 starts (titled "The Verdict"), your nerves will be on edge, whether you think that Peterson is guilty or not. Above all, it's about a case that goes far beyond whether a man killed his wife on a narrow and dark stairwell, and it rises to a war between the defense and prosecution and the truths and lies they use to influence a jury.

A Short Update

     

     Here's a quick blog update for any of you two or three people who read these film-based writings: as you may know, right now I do occasional blog posts about Netflix movies that you can stream instantly to your computer or device. I have found this to be too limiting when deciding what film to write about. Yes, there are obviously some good--and even amazing--films on Netflix instant, but it's just extremely hard to find the time to seek them out when I also get 2 hard discs at a time as well (not to mention going to the actual movie theater and watching Movies On Demand).
    So from now on I have decided not to restrict myself to just instant movies (and probably people didn't even notice anyway), and I will be recommending any movie that I see from any format that suits my fancy. It should make for write-ups on much better films than previously, since I am no longer confined to the chains of  the movie prison that is Netflix Watch Instantly. Expect a new post soon...

Already Craving More Thor

     It seems that in this great country that we live in, summer blockbusters have been arriving to our cinema screens earlier and earlier every year that passes. This year's first huge hit, Fast Five, was released on the 29th of April, and it's fair to say that its huge opening weekend numbers signified the beginning of a long and prosperous summer blockbuster season. And this means one thing: we're going to be seeing a plethora of previews and clips that show men (or creatures) from comic books (and graphic novels) kicking ass and saying sometimes-cool-usually-lame catchphrases into the (probably 3-D) camera lenses. If you're more niggardly (that word is not a racial slur, my less-intelligent readers) than I am in regards to what films to see in the movie theater, trying to decide what superhero-based film to see can be like wading through a river of shit with the occasional fresh and scrumptious corn kernel. Luckily--I am here to report--Thor, with the title character portrayed in a star-making turn by Australian Chris Hemsworth, is more tasty morsel than piece of shit.
      I was excited to see Thor in the sense that I hadn't been to the theater in about 14 days, which for me is an extremely long time; however, after witnessing the trailers, I wasn't sure how great the movie would be. But what happened is the best thing that can happen when one pays $9.50 to see a film: pleasant surprise. It's all a bit confusing at first if you are not familiar with the mythology of Thor. The film starts out on Earth, where Thor is discovered after he is transported by some sort of Terminator-style portal. Fortunately without Arnold's naked ass. Thor switches gears quickly, after just a few minutes, to show us a long sequence of events that lead to him landing on Earth. You see, Thor is from another realm called Asgard (a porn film title parody in the making), where the Asgardians have been waging war with the Frost Giants for centuries. The Frost Giants are scary, big, badass creatures who can freeze people and things in place and then shatter them, which makes for some extremely cool special effects. Thor's dad, Odin (acted beautifully by Anthony Hopkins), is the king of this realm, and basically sends Thor to Earth in an act of humility (Thor had recently attacked the ice creatures in an act of aggression), to show him that being cocky and aggressive isn't the right way to be King, which Thor is first-in-line to become. He also strips Thor of his legendary weapon, a hammer, as it is also sent to Earth, and Thor must earn the right to wield it again. Rereading this paragraph, I know it sounds kind of lame and corny. But with the Shakespearean themes of love, humility and troubled families, the incredibly cool, loud and original special effects, and the interesting direction of Kenneth Branagh, Thor's quality rises above the poo wave of previous below-average superhero incarnations.

      What Thor is, at it's quickly beating heart, is a fish-out-of-water story that is both humorous and light-hearted. Thor gets banished to Earth, but he has been living in the realm of Asgard, where people talk in a form of arrogant-royal-English. It adds up to great comic relief when he is found by three scientists, the most important of which is played cutely by a pre-preggers Natalie Portman. When Thor's stomach growls, he states, "I need sustenance!" When he's done with a coffee in a diner, he shatters his mug on the floor and states that he needs another. He's a strong and cocky man that thinks he deserves whatever he wants at any given moment, due to the fact that he is royalty in the other realm. That's not to say he can't be sweet and lovely when he wants to be: the film switches back and forth between Thor's family troubles in Asgard and the budding relationship between Thor and the smitten Natalie Portman. It shows that Thor has human qualities that all of us have experienced, and it grounds the film in at least some sort of reality that is relatable.
     I haven't even explored the family drama between Thor and his brother that is the essence of much of the plot, and I won't here. To watch the drama is better than to explain it. Thor is just the fourth movie that Marvel has produced on their own (after the two Iron Man films and the lesser The Incredible Hulk). They have clearly hit their stride. Thor hits you like the blunt head of a hammer: it's interesting, original, and the special effects are unlike anything I have seen recently. Branagh's direction, specifically the friction of family that echoes his previous Shakespeare efforts, works much better than expected in the superhero genre. Above all, it's entertaining, which is the key to creating successful summer blockbusters.     (B+)

What You'll Want to be Watching:

                                                     
                                              Wilfred

      Upon my weekly viewings of Season 2 of Justified, one of the better televisions shows to be released within the past 2 years (also with its Season 2 finale in a few days, and we all know Raylan is gonna bring some Hell to Mags and the Bennett clan), I have seen a number of advertisements for a quirky little comedy called Wilfred. The ads are short but amusing and funny. FX network's new comedy starting this summer, Wilfred, come to find out, is actually an American remake of a semi-popular Australian show, which--after HBO's amazing Australian series Summer Heights High--is just what viewers should be asking for: a show that's funny while also interesting and weird, something that could be called the anti-Two and a Half Men.
     The story is simple but has plenty of potential: Ryan is a young man trying to be successful in today's world to no real effect. He is depressed and feels like there is no point anything at all. (I swear this isn't about me...).  Ryan forms a promising relationship with his neighbor's dog, Wilfred.  Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Ryan, the entire world other than him sees Wilfred as the cute little dog that he is, but Ryan sees Wilfred as a vulgar and brash Australian man dressed up in a cheap dog suit. Hopefully, Hilarity ensues. According to many different synopses of the series, Wilfred leads Ryan on many different funny and existential adventures that help him discover the humor and happiness of life.
     It's quite easy to be skeptical. As one can see from the picture at the top of this blog post, Frodo himself (Elijah Wood) is the main star other than the dog. But I think that Wood gets a bad wrap as a little pussy hobbit with homo-erotic tendencies. Did you see him stand up to the scary Macaulay Culkin in 1993's The Good Son?  He was also creepy as fuck as cannibal killer Kevin in Sin City. I think he can pull off sad and depressed, due to the state of his career as a whole. Some might say that remakes of shows are never as good as the original, and that's generally a true statement (For instance, the British The Office is far superior to the dumber, less clever American version starring the one-note Steve Carell). But this remake also stars Jason Gann as Wilfred, who co-created and starred in the original series. So the talent is still there. Let us hope that the laughs are, too.

Netflix Stream This:

Hot Tub Time Machine

      Although no excuse could possibly cover for your ignorance, if you haven't seen Hot Tub Time Machine, you have an extremely easy choice of plans for tonight. Since it is 2010's best film that could be considered a straight comedy, it is essential viewing for any human being that enjoys laughter, alcohol, hot tubs and severed limbs. Infinitely better than that other movie about getting drunk and wondering, "What the hell just happened?" (The Hangover, starring Bradley "Douche" Cooper and the formerly-funny-now-just-fucking-annoying Zach Galinifuckface), Hot Tub (as it will be referred to from here on out) turns a potential one-hit-wonder joke into a wonderful laugh riot.
      "Hutchdawg, how could you say that Hot Tub is infinitely better movie than The Hangover? The Hangover was so hilarious, they all got drunk and took roofies and one got lost. Then Mike Tyson showed up and some naked Chinese dude without a visible cock." It's easy to determine how much better Hot Tub is than the other, way-more-shitty film. Let's compare actors first: The main star of Hot Tub is the classic and hilarious John Cusack. One could say he's a film icon. The Hangover's main star is Bradley Cooper. An icon to any fan of shitty cinema, he has starred in such classics as All About Steve and 2010's The A-Team. Let's move onto the more minor characters. Both movies star vets of The Daily Show: Rob Corddry and Ed Helms. Both are funny, but only one utters the classic line, "Shotgun to the dick." The third, goofy characters of each film, Craig Robinson and Zach G. (too lazy to type his full last name), add some much needed comic relief to each film. At least Craig does: he has made me laugh in great entertainment such as Knocked Up, Pineapple Express, and one of television's best comedies, Eastbound and Down, and he continues that trend here. Zach G. bores me to death in HBO's Bored to Death.
      So it's quite clear that Hot Tub's cast is far funnier and far superior acting talents. And the plot is clearly better too: I mean, I wish that guy in The Hangover had died when they find him on the roof. That way I wouldn't have to witness him speaking. As you can see from the movie poster above, Hot Tub's plot has a simple equation: energy drink + alcohol + squirrel divided by a hot tub = travelling back in time. It has The Hangover's debauchery with time-travel humor that fits right beside the Back to the Future films. But the thing that truly sets Hot Tub apart from other films in the same genre is its ever-present feeling of sadness for time that has passed. It's that feeling of nostalgia that we all, as humans, experience at one point or another in our lives. Although the plot revolves travelling back in time through a hot tub portal, it's more realistic in its depiction of past elation and regret. We all remember previous days and years, and I think that all of us can relate to going back to experience the amazing times and try and change things that didn't go our way. It's human nature, as is loving 2010's best comedy, Hot Tub Time Machine.

What You'll Want to be Watching:

                                    
                                    Hobo With a Shotgun

     I've always been a fan of the darker side of cinema. Watching any film that is considered exploitation or ultra-graphic horror has always tickled my fancy--it's just fun to see films that don't reach the mainstream due to their horrendously violent or extremely politically-incorrect content. A tamed-down version of exploitation reached theaters and our homes in 2007 in the form of a double-billed feature film, Grindhouse. And I loved that too. Grindhouse, as you may know, is two separate films: Planet Terror, which was directed by Robert Rodriguez, is about an eclectic group of people who are trying to survive an outbreak of zombie-esque creatures. Death Proof, directed by Quentin Tarantino, is about an insane stunt man who murders young women in horrific car accidents with his stunt car. 

     Hobo with a Shotgun is related to Grindhouse in a very unique way: in between the two films of Grindhouse, there are a few fake movie trailers designed to shock and humor the audience before the next film begins. Some famous directors partook in this 3 minute exercise in fun. Edgar Wright, Eli Roth and Rob Zombie all made short, shocking previews that were hilarious and/or violent. When Grindhouse was released internationally, the film producers decided to hold a contest to see what talent could come up with the best short trailer. And the best short trailer was a hilariously violent send-up of exploitation cinema about a homeless man who takes vengeance on the criminals he sees on a daily basis.

     2011's Hobo with a Shotgun is a full movie version of the previously mentioned trailer with better actors, more money and a hell of a lot more blood and gore. It stars Rutger Hauer as a tired homeless man looking for a fresh start in a new city. Unfortunately, this new place isn't pristine and the people are not polite: crime is running rampant, and the city's underworld is run by a man known only as "The Drake" and his two psychotic asshole sons. When the Hobo decides that he is tired of seeing every city he enters succumb to the scum-sucking bottom feeders, he takes matters into his own hands with a double-barreled shotgun. If you're still reading, then you must be interested. As you should be: Hobo looks like an absolute fucking blast, filled with brutal be-headings, blood drenched corpses and bouncing breasts. Here's the kicker: get some friends together, open up some beers and all you have to do is click your remote. Hobo with a Shotgun is available on Time Warner Movies on Demand for the (low, if you split it with some friends) price of $9.99. I know I'll be tuning in. 

Netflix Stream This:

Teeth

     You see that movie poster to the left? It's a bit misleading. When I came across Teeth (heh) on my Netflix Watch Instantly page, I knew that I should make a post about it (and not solely to make the previous joke). I knew because Teeth bites you and doesn't let go. It's a coming-of-age story for the horror-humor generation: Dawn is a girl that is just starting to experience her budding sexuality. She tries to suppress this urge by being an active member in a chastity group. Unfortunately, life at home isn't quite as easy: her step-brother, Brad, is vulgar and weird, and he seems to have an unhealthy attraction to Dawn. When Dawn is the victim of a sexual assault, she realizes that she's not like other girls; she has a set of teeth growing inside of her twat that likes to bite unwanted objects. She then experiences the ups and downs of having a set of deadly beef-drape dentures. (The ups and downs being, mostly, severed penises.)
     What sicko could dream up this sort of thing? Well, it's actually based upon real mythology: the vagina dentata myth. Numerous cultures have different tales and stories about women with toothed pink tacos. It's usually used as a cautionary tale warning the dangers involved with sleeping with strange women and to prevent the crime of rape. According to the always-useful Wikipedia, 

"The vagina dentata appears in the myths of several cultures. Erich Neumann relays one such myth in which 'a fish inhabits the vagina of the Terrible Mother; the hero is the man who overcomes the Terrible Mother, breaks the teeth out of her vagina, and so makes her into a woman.' The legend also appears in the mythology of the Chaco and Guiana tribes. In some versions, the hero leaves one tooth. An Ainu language tale containing this element was published as "The Island of Women" by Basil Hall Chamberlain, where it was described as a well known Japanese tale by E. B. Tylor. In his book, The Wimp Factor, Stephen J. Ducat expresses the view that these myths express the threat sexual intercourse poses for men who, although entering triumphantly, always leave diminished."

     Not that Teeth plays the myth in a serious tone. Unlike other older cautionary tales about strange and lustful women, such as Basic Instinct or Fatal Attraction, this film plays the poon pearlies angle to comedic gold. Also filled with horror and women's empowerment, Teeth is truly about a young lady coming to grips with womanhood--even if that womanhood involves a muff that munches.

It Just Missed My Heart: A Review of Hanna

     Recently, I saw last year's film Never Let Me Go, about children growing up and slowly realizing that their life is much different from other youngsters. They were brought up for a specific purpose, to benefit mankind in a very controversial way. Never Let Me Go is a slow-moving, beautifully-filmed coming-of-age story. Why this mention of 2010's art-house film about children born with a predetermined path? Well, 2011's Hanna, at it's core, is also a movie about a child who was born because of controversial government-decided reasons. It's also beautifully-filmed. But it sure isn't slow-moving: from it's opening bow-and-arrow killing to all of the violent outbursts throughout the film, Hanna (with its pounding music and quick camera work) is always in a state of urgency that many action thrillers can only aspire to duplicate. Unfortunately, with its toned-down PG-13 rating, all of this urgency doesn't add up to much more than an emotionless girl on a tame killing spree for reasons that don't really matter.
    When you first see Hanna, its quite easy to determine that she is a quick and efficient killing machine. Hunting a deer in the woods with a bow, she is one among the snow and birch trees. As she's gutting her kill, we meet her father as he sneaks up behind her and utters the words (words Hanna hears plenty of), "You're dead." Soon enough, assumptions can be made: Hanna and her dad, Erik, live deep in the forest and fend for themselves (kind of a ruthless Alone in the Wilderness). Her pops has (for reasons not yet apparent) taught her how to kill in just about any way imaginable, with both weapons and hand-to-hand. When these reasons do become apparent, Hanna will have to go on the fight of her life. Erik is an agent of some sort, apparently with skills so fucking great that a few certain CIA members (one in particular, portrayed by Cate Blanchett in a nothing-but-villainous role) are getting their panties in a bunch to try and find him and the girl. Erik eventually realizes that the time has come to release his creation into the real world.

    This release is where some of the excitement and some of the problems lie: the opening of the film, before Hanna's dad sicks her onto the CIA agents, is a lot like the Grimm fairy tales that Hanna reads by the light of the fire late at night. She and her father are alone in the woods, in a simple home built by bare hands, hunting for their meals. The training montages are typical but exciting, and the cinematography is beautiful. Once Hanna experiences the real world, techno music kicks in and we are bombarded with the technology and industrialization that one would encounter when first witnessing the hi-tech environment. I get it: we're supposed to feel bombarded with these sounds and images, because it causes us to relate to Hanna on a much higher level, since she is experiencing it for the first time. But I couldn't help but wish that film was more like the beginning: quiet and thoughtful. The excitement builds and builds, but when it explodes we're left with tame PG-13 killings, and most of the violence takes place off screen (a problem that Sucker Punch dealt with too). Many critics have been mentioning 2010's Kick-Ass in their reviews for Hanna, due to the fact that both films have young teenage girls disposing of people without emotion: The difference is that Kick-Ass was funny, fun, vulgar and extremely violent, where Hanna is just pretty to look at (the movie not that character, you pedophiles).
     Hanna is a good movie. It's just easier to focus on the negatives when I feel that it had so much more potential, like a teenage version of Kill Bill. A lot of the film deals with Hanna's experiences with normal, everyday life that she has never had to chance to encounter. For instance, she meets up with a family and gains her first looks at friendship and romance. That's all well and good, but the movie sets us up for explosions of revenge and violence, and they are just too few and far between. And when they do come, the audience (at least myself) is so desensitized due to viewing films like the Bourne franchise and Kick-Ass that nothing really got my blood pumping. The excitement didn't match the expectations.     (B-)

[Insert Groundhog Day Reference Here]: A Review of Source Code

     It's a fact to state that a large number of human beings wish that they had the power to go back to certain time or day in their lives and relive that time or day to fix mistakes that shaped them forever, usually for the worse. I know that it's why I love 1993's classic comedy Groundhog Day (starring--obviously--Bill Murray): don't we all wish that we could live the same day over and over (maybe not for eternity), fixing every mistake, saving lives, gaining and gorging our minds with any conceivable form or knowledge, whether that be mastering the piano or knowing all of the classic works of literature by heart? Source Code, the new film by geek wonder-boy Duncan Jones, who previously directed 2009's wonderful Moon (and who is also the son of David Bowie), transforms the Groundhog Day formula from reliving one full day over and over again to reliving the last 8 minutes of a man's life aboard a Chicago commuter train about to get annihilated by a terrorist attack. It's a smart and effective sci-fi thriller, and although it doesn't quite reach the greatness of the previously mentioned Moon, it's still one of the best films so far in 2011.
     It's impossible to talk about the plot of Source Code without giving away information that would be better left not knowing going into the theater. Similar to last year's best film Inception, the joy is in the journey of discovery. I also avoided the movie's trailers and went in solely on the cred of Duncan's first film. So go ahead and read on if you don't care or have seen the film. If not, so long, and I'll see you in another life, brother.
     A man, played in typical charming and likable fashion by usually poor-choice-of-movie-picker Jake Gyllenhaal, wakes up on a train. He doesn't know how he got on this particular train, or even how he is in America. You see, his name is Colter Stevens, and he is an Army Helicopter pilot in Afghanistan. He's talking to a woman that he's never met (played by Michelle Monaghan, who doesn't do too much more than seem like an honest and likable young woman) but seems to know him. Colter feels sick and goes to the bathroom, only to discover the face in the mirror is not his, but another random man. The viewer, like Colter, becomes confused and disoriented--which is where the fun starts in this whole thing. After 8 minutes the train blows up. In typical sci-fi fashion, a flood of pictures, sounds, and speed-of-light images quickly stream across the screen. Colter then wakes up in some sort of pod that is clearly malfunctioning, speaking into a video monitor to some sort of army scientist.

    Here's where things get crazy and preposterous. However, events unfold so quickly and are so thrilling that you don't really give a shit how the science of the whole thing works: Colter quickly realizes that he is in some sort of experiment to do with the terrorist attack. One of the victim's brains was harvested from the wreckage, and the memory of the last 8 minutes of his life has been implanted onto some sort of source code, allowing Colter to wire in and experience the events like he is actually there. So he goes back. And back. And back again to the final 8 minutes of this man's life, trying to determine where the bomb is and who the bomber is, due to the fact that military intelligence believes that the bomber left the train and is going to strike again. Since Colter is gaining knowledge and remembering all of the past tries, he eventually falls for Monaghan's character, as any hot-blooded throbbing-cocked American man would.
     Eventually, once we learn where Colter actually is during these 8-minute trips, a more human touch enters the film. Is it possible that Colter can alter the fate of the train's passengers, even though they are already dead? Can Colter save the girl who he has fallen in love with? If he stops the explosion, do these people actually live forever in an alternate reality? And if so, where does Colter fit into all of this, since he essentially took over another man's body over and over for the final 8 minutes? It's better not to think about the logistics of all of the quantum mechanics and paradoxes and to just focus on the ever-growing danger of possibly not being able to save people who you have grown to love.     (A-)
    

What You'll Want to be Watching:

                                        
                                           The Killing

     Here's a short, quick notice, folks: the almost-but-not-quite-HBO television network AMC is premiering its new series, The Killing, with a two-hour grand event Sunday night starting at 9 P.M. Eastern. As you probably (and fucking should) know, AMC is home to two of the top ten shows that are still airing new episodes on television--Mad Men (whose creators just announced today that the new season wouldn't premiere until early 2012) and the bestest, brilliant Breaking Bad (with the new season starting in June/July). With the winter doldrums finally crawling their way out of the state, it's time to open the windows and let the cool breeze bring in some new and exciting television shows. 

     Although I am significantly more excited for April 17th's HBO series premiere of A Game of Thrones (if excitement is measured in the number of boxer brief changes while watching the latest trailer, which I think it clearly has to), AMC's The Killing looks like it could be a nice mysterious slow-burner, with a major payoff at the end. Based upon a Danish television series, The Killing is a drama set in Seattle, Washington that chronicles the police investigation, family, and suspects of a town that just experienced the murder of a young girl. Each episode in the first season's 13 episode run will show one day of the investigation. The show looks dark, tragic and beautiful--just how I like my dramas. But don't just listen to this ratty, old blog: early reaction is extremely positive. People are calling it "excellent," "addictive", and they cite the fact that you can't wait until the next episode every time one ends, "the hallmark of any great drama." Other kind words are out there in cyberspace as well, if you choose to look. So this Sunday, whether I am watching it live or it is recording onto my DVR, I will experience AMC's new series, The Killing, with it's 2 hour premiere. One can only hope it will come close to reaching the greatness of the network's other two brilliant dramas.  

Babes in Toyland: The Sucker Punch Review

     The sub-genre of action/horror/thriller films that feature attractive women kicking ass has always held an enjoyable place deep inside the cockles of my heart. Whether it has been Ripley standing up to the horrific aliens in the Alien franchise ("Get away from her, you bitch!"), Sarah Connor bulking up and going toe-to-toe with T1000 in the second Terminator film, or Beatrix Kiddo (The Bride) violently destroying everything in her way in the whole bloody affair that is Kill Bill, these ladies always have two things in common: they're talented at killing things that deserve to be killed and they make my penis fill up with blood. Sucker Punch, the latest from 300 and Watchmen director Zack Snyder, features a number of scantily clad beautiful women annihilating various people, the undead, and mythical creatures; unfortunately, that's just about all it boils down to. With a simpleton plot and characters that you never feel any real danger for, Sucker Punch becomes a semi-entertaining night of watching someone else play a visually-amazing videogame. It's entertaining at first, and you might see come cool shit, but ultimately, you could be watching something better.
     Zack Snyder has a knack for opening a film with panache. The beginning credit sequence of the Dawn of the Dead remake and Watchmen are unbelievably well executed, and Snyder basically continues that trend here. Using a rendition of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)," the basic plot is set forth: facing up to her abusive stepfather, Babydoll is sent to an insane asylum (by him) and is to be lobotomized in five days time. Once there, she retreats into a fantastical world where she needs to recover 5 items (a map, a fire starter, a knife, a key, and something she will discover when the time is right) to able to escape the institution. She gains the trust of four other girls (Sweet Pea, Rocket, Blondie and Amber) and enlists them into helping her so they can all escape. (There's no need to get into the fact that all of the girls' names and attire could be the main plot of a pedophile's masturbatory fantasy.) There are layers of the fantasy world. In real life, the girls are in an dark and dreary institution. In Babydoll's main fantasy, the girls are all dancers/whores for a club owner (the sadistic asylum employee, in real life), and in five days time, Babydoll is going to be sold to the high roller (the lobotomist, in real life [played interestingly by Mad Men's Jon Hamm]). However, it goes even further. When Babydoll dances for customers in her fantasy world, everyone is transfixed, and she enters another dream world in which the girls metaphorically battle for the 5 items (one at a time) against horrific, demented and powerful beings and creatures. Confused yet? This will make it easier: As the girls fight for, say, the map, in the second layer of dreamworld against the scary monsters, the girls are stealing the map from the office in the main dream world. So the two dream worlds correspond into obtaining the same objective.

   This second dream world is where the main problem with the film lies: there is no real danger involved. It doesn't make a difference how many hundreds of robots or gas-mask-wearing zombies the girls kill--they are still just stuck in a mental institution, waiting to die or be lobotomized. By making the alternate reality a coping mechanism for Babydoll, it's taking away the emotional impact of the real life situation. They jump, they shoot, they kill giant-sized metal samurais and take down dragons with long swords. But instead of being excited by these killings (like Ripley and the Alien), I was left with my dick in my hand, wishing it was an Xbox controller, while also wishing I was watching Kill Bill for the 14th time. The film also has a line of dialogue that goes something like, "Don't write checks that your ass can't cash" and it has a loud noise to drown out the sound of one the girls saying "fucker" (ala Live Free or Die Hard). These two instances of shit hurt my enjoyment of the film. It's the little things, you know?
     As much as I just complained about how the dream fights took away from the real emotional impact of the film, I have to raise my rating a full letter grade due to it's amazing visual wizardry. From watching 300 or Watchmen, one can easily determine that Snyder's best talent as director is hugely stylized visual effects. Some of the fights really were quite breathtaking, and two or three times I even found myself excited when Babydoll closed her eyes and the magical dreamworld kicked in with the loudest music I have ever heard at a movie theater. Unfortunately, looks and style are clearly not everything when you don't have an exciting script to work with. Sucker Punch is like a donkey punch: exciting yet painful, dangerous and sexual, and it definitely did not leave me wanting more.     (C+)