A Million Ways to Fart in the West.

The role that expectation plays in our enjoyment of cinema is an intriguing one.  As I get older, it seems more and more people—notably those with spouses, kids, or responsibilities other than checking their Facebook notifications—have begun using the phrase, "It seems like a rental," when referring to films of tentative quality.  My version of "It seems like a rental", is the noon showing on a Thursday afternoon, when I've suddenly found myself mysteriously awake before 2 PM.  This is the story of how I found myself watching A Million Ways to Die in the West.

22 Jump Street: You Know, The Second One.

21 Jump Street was way better than it ever deserved to be.  In an era of reboots, it stood alone as the film that actually tweaked its source material enough to spit out an original product.  It occasionally mocked its existence, but spent more time poking fun at the Glee-generation and flipping high school stereotypes on their head than it did rehashing old narratives.  It barely felt like a reboot.

Two years later, 22 Jump Street feels like nothing but a sequel.  In fact, the movie's sole purpose is to remind you, over and over again, that you're watching a sequel that was only made to squeeze more money out of a tired concept.  The self-satire is frequently amusing, but 22 Jump Street spends so much time making fun of itself that it forgets to become more than the concept it's been mocking.

X-Men Days of Future Past, or Terminator 2: Motivational Speaker Edition.

"You need to make stronger life choices, son."

It's the future, guys.  It's really dark in the future.  And the T-1000's Sentinels have been killing all of our mutant friends.  The solution, of course, is to send Wolverine into the past, because Kitty Pryde (who went into the past in the comic incarnation) is a woman, and women aren't allowed to be main characters in movies.

The resulting film is an X-Men family reunion composed largely of motivational speeches, since the majority of the plot is articulated to us within the first fifteen minutes by narration, and then relayed to the X-men of the past via Wolverine's first of many motivational speeches to a young Professor Xavier.  Thankfully, we're also treated to the obligatory getting-the-band-back-together sequences, which are the moments in which Days of Future Past actually remains bearable for a while.

The Grand Budapest Hotel, of Which I Start Writing Four Different Things and Then Forget What My Point Was.

I assume the rule of thirds is applied here by accident.

On a delightfully whimsical day in the throes of 2007, a much-thinner-than-now, pink-haired youth sitting in a quaint classroom in the romantic and mysterious land of East Lansing, Michigan was asked to provide to the classroom his favorite director of films.  To this question, he replied simply—avoiding the tenuous conviction typically associated with the youths of 2007—with "Woody Allen" (Or Takashi Miike, one can't be too sure in a year like 2007).  One after another, the next eleven youths in a row supplied "Wes Anderson" as their most preferred director of cinema.  And the colored girls went, "Doo do doo do doo do do doo..."

Magic Mike, or What Matthew McConaughey Does in His Free Time.

Sorry for the absence.  I bought a computer today because I knew you all missed me.  Although I've been without the means to deliver my delightfully slanderous criticism, rest assured that I have been keeping tabs on all things cinematic.  If you haven't seen a theatrical release since my absence, you haven't missed much.  However, as with all things in life, just as you're getting comfortable with the bland emptiness of it all, Channing Tatum shows up and takes off his pants.

The Muppets, or Nostalgia: The New American Enterprise.

The Muppets currently has a 97% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes, has been recommended to me by countless friends with varying tastes in cinema, and boasts Jason Segel as lead actor and co-writer.  The signs were good that The Muppets would be a good time.  And I hated it.

Well, hate is a strong word.  There were short bursts of entertainment sandwiched between the spastic narrative and flat jokes, but I can only explain the overwhelming mass approval of The Muppets to myself by assuming that adults have been validating its flaws; either through some sort of Muppet nostalgia, or a forgiveness due to the false assumption that kids movies don't actually have to be good.

Jennifer Aniston is a Whorable Boss.

This image is likely all that anyone will remember of Horrible Bosses, regardless of whether they decided they liked the film or not.  Now I'm sure if you've seen it, you're all like, "Whoa, bro!  There was some funny stuff in that movie, dogg!"  But given a few years, this thesis will likely prove to be true.  Comedy doesn't seem to have any staying power these days, and as I rack my brain for memorable Hollywood moments in the past few years, I seem to be coming up short.  I had to have seen some comedies, right?

This is not to say that Horrible Bosses is bad, it's simply forgettable, which in my mind translates to "not very good," but I'm sure not everyone agrees with me.  If you're looking for a few decent laughs, go see Horrible Bosses.  If the post-Hangover Hollywood comedy is any indication, it's an acceptable offering to those with nothing better to do.

Your Highness, or The Longest Dick Joke Ever.

We all knew Your Highness was going to be bad, but the world runs on hope (and possibly James Franco), so I disregarded almost every review of the film in my quest for shameful giggles.  I got a few, but not nearly enough.  After the reasonably well-written first act, Your Highness descends into little more than dick jokes and action sequences; neither of which were very funny.

The Green Hornet, or Asians Are Cooler Than You.

This film is fictional; as documented by this photo, in which
Seth Rogen is faster than an Asian.

Dear Michel Gondry,

    Thank you for not writing The Green Hornet, because even though the script isn't very good, you most likely would have found a way to make it worse.  That's right, I saw Be Kind Rewind, and I am going to hold it against you forever.

There are still some problems with The Green Hornet, but I had low expectations anyway so they weren't deal-breakers.  It is important to note that the film's entertainment value comes almost entirely from Jay Chou and Christoph Waltz, so those who don't find Engrish funny aren't going to enjoy this film at all.

Who am I kidding; everyone loves Engrish.

MacGruber has a 79% on Rotten Tomatoes.

I may have not written this entry had I not found this picture.

I think we have a national treasure on our hands; a term I use as defined below:

National Treasure (na·tion·al treas·ure)
- a film which, although being catastrophically flawed in concept, garners exaggerated praise from its audience for somehow not being the huge turd they expected. Based on the movie of the same name.

MacGruber is a spin-off of an SNL skit, which haven't fared well since Wayne's World, and unlike previous SNL fims, the original MacGruber skit wasn't even funny. Okay, maybe it was funny, like, once. MacGruber is essentially a retarded Macgyver. He doesn't use guns, and relies on a variety of scraps to produce explosives; or more realistically here, distractions. His only effective homemade explosive goes off prematurely, and he's apparently more reliable with a stick of celery.

Daybreakers: Too Infuriating to Write About.

Dear Michael and Peter Spierig,

I understand that you probably aren't wearing Edward Cullen underpants right now. You probably don't have the Twilight shower curtain either. But you didn't have to prove it either. Now, you may not have made this film as an attack against Twilight, but your fans certainly see it as such. "Yeah man, vampires are cool again. They ain't whiny fags no more." Lines like this can be seen most places Daybreakers is mentioned on the internet. The comparison does not interest me.

Anyone with half a brain can see that the Twilight films are complete trash, but Daybreakers isn't much better; and it offends me that large amounts of people will praise your film simply because it "isn't Twilight." I'm actually upset that I'm even mentioning Twilight because even though it's a pop culture phenomenon, I don't care about it anymore. It sucked. Move on, people. But everyone is drawing comparisons between the two films, and I really wanted to link to that picture of the underpants. Enough about how Twilight sucks. Let's talk about why Daybreakers sucks. I hate that that's going to be taken as a pun.

Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery of the Recycled Piece of Cinema.

Tony Stark goes back in time to flirt with Jude Law and kill zombies.

Dear Guy Ritchie,

I thought your endless string of crap was over. I thought you had redeemed yourself for the train wreck that was Revolver. That maybe you had finally made a movie that wasn't a complete piece of trash.

You failed. Not that Sherlock Holmes deserves to be thrown out entirely, but you made the most promising trailer of the year out of a film that is essentially a well-polished piece of trash that we've all seen a thousand times. Don't get me wrong; I expected some recycling. But the dialogue is cliched and tired, the plot is tedious, and I half expected Robert Downey Jr. to put on a metallic suit and fly to Iraq. We might as well just accept that Tony Stark was Sherlock Holmes in a previous life. Robert Downey Jr.'s "unique spin" on Sherlock Holmes is certainly unique to the character, but it's not a unique character; we all saw Iron Man last year and it was a hell of a lot better than Sherlock Holmes.

The Fake Kind, or Jovovich Goes PG-13.

Dear film studios,

Please stop making fictional films and advertising them as based on real events. I understand that if people think something is based on a true story--especially one involving aliens or ghosts--they are more likely to see it, but you're constructing a false reality that gullible human beings are going to accept as fact. It's not this film in particular that worries me, but I'm starting to wonder where you're going to draw the line. You have the money and the influence to completely rewrite history, and a large majority of Americans are too dumb to even consider you might be lying to them.

Now, I realize I just described the government, but c'mon! You're better than them, aren't you? You're just a couple of guys looking to make a quick buck. Wait...are you the government?

But anyway, The Fourth Kind was hyped pretty well. People thought it was real; a lot still do. A quick google search will debunk that claim. If Dr. Abigail Tyler actually exists, she needs to show up on a talk show and show us some ID.

I do like the marketing campaign, and the hype surrounding the film; but it would have been nice to have some honesty--maybe after the credits? I'm not that big of a fan of after-the-credits content, but I like to imagine Ashton Kutcher showing up after the film and letting everyone know that they got Punk'd.

Anyways, forget marketing. Forget the lying scum that is Hollywood. Forget what happened that weekend your uncle babysat you...

The Fourth Kind was entertaining. Granted, I just saw The Box so I probably would have thought I Know Who Killed Me was entertaining too; but The Fourth Kind kept me intrigued. It certainly had its problems: The sheriff character was absolutely ridiculous, the broken fourth wall was a contrived cheap shot, and the dialogue was nothing to be proud of. However, the combination of "archive" footage and dramatization intertwined nicely to create a pseudo-documentary atmosphere that kept the film at a nice pace. I think enjoyment of the film hinges on whether you approve or disapprove of this stylistic choice.

This film will likely be panned by many for the wholehearted assertion that it is based on true events, when it is in fact complete fiction. But if one were to assess the film on its own merits, I can't see any reason to drastically raise or lower it above or below any other film of its kind. Due to the timeliness of its release, it will likely be compared to Paranormal Activity which everyone (except my sister apparently) knew was fake from the get-go. The "documentary" footage of Paranormal Activity was still unsettling to many, so there's no real reason to discredit The Fourth Kind just because it's claim of a realistic portrayal is a hoax.

Anyway, I was entertained. I don't really care about this one. Say what you want, masses. The only real purposes of this film are to entertain and to stimulate the viewer's thoughts on whether aliens exist or not. It's not that stimulating. Especially without Milla Jovovich's industry standard full frontal shot.



P.S. Maybe we should question Roman Polanski on the whereabouts of Tyler's daughter.

P.P.S. Yes, I used both the "forgettable" and "worth seeing" tags. Aren't most movies both those things?

Twilight, or The Looming Threat of the Sequel is Upon Us.

I've been debating with myself for a while now whether to start writing posts about films that aren't currently in theaters, and I really wanted to post an update about the Tooth Fairy trailer but I resisted the urge. But tonight at the bar, when someone mentioned that their Twilight: New Moon tickets had arrived in the mail today, I knew it was time to start revisiting the films of years gone by. In this case, a film of only one year gone by (I'm easing into it).

So, in a desperate attempt to avoid Saw VI, I watched Twilight and it inspired me to write an epic short story on film adaptations. I'm hoping to sell the rights to Paramount.

Hold on, Spider Monkey...


A TALE OF TWO TWILIGHTS

In 2008, the book Twilight was a living entity. Unfortunately, one night in a Border's bookstore, a DVD copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire snuck into the "teen angst" section and bit a copy of Twilight. As a result, Twilight was transformed, like the majority of the Harry Potter films, into a vampire.

When books become vampires, they don't thirst for blood. They thirst for box office earnings. And like most vampires, they are nearly unstoppable; no matter how hard us humans try to resist handing over our money. These newly formed creatures bear the same plot elements as their living book counterparts, but they possess super powers! Humans do not have to read them in order to learn what they are about. Instead, they possess the ability to travel incredible speeds of up to twenty-four frames a second and display themselves in full color while humans sit passively in seats...unable to resist...

However, being an empty shell of something alive has its low points. And in the case of adaptations like Twilight, the major downfall is simply that an empty shell of a film isn't very entertaining. These vampiric film adaptions have no heart, no soul. They are little more than stylish, animalistic, box-office killing machines, forced to suffer with their own monotony for all eternity...

The End.

I particularly like the ambiguous ending. But, I digress.

Twilight has terrible pacing, little character development, questionable character motivations, redundant and simple dialogue, and way too many time-wasting obligatory scenes that serve only to remain faithful to the book. There is more baseball in this movie than there is character development. Of course, the baseball scene is not an example of the previously mentioned because, after all, about fifty percent of the film's character development comes from the baseball scene.

So here is my call to filmmakers: Go ahead. Adapt the next best-selling book series into a film. But when you do, take the general idea of the book and throw the rest of the source material away. What drives me insane, is that the themes, characters, and rules of the diagetic world within Twilight (among other adaptations) could actually make a good movie; but not if you try to fit the entire book into two hours. The problem with most book to film adaptations, is that the filmmakers tend to get so intent on making the book into a movie that they forget to add the content. So change it up! Make Edward gay for all I care. Or straight, I can't really tell which he is in the film. The point is, it is very unlikely that Hollywood is even capable of making a quality novel to film adaptation anymore and I'd appreciate it if you just took things in a new direction. Otherwise, we're just going to keep getting underdeveloped CGI-fests like Twilight, Harry Potter, and Lord of the Rings.

That's right. I said Lord of the Rings.


P.S. I've been waiting months for a chance to sneak the phrase "I digress" into one of these posts.

Where the Sleeping Theatre Goers Are, or Spike Jonze's New Music Video.

Dear Spike Jonze,

If I wanted to watch eight children argue, I would take up babysitting. Where the Wild Things Are will forever be my ultimate reminder why I do not.

Certainly you've captured the elaborate capacity of childhood imagination and accompanied it with a phenomenal soundtrack, but that, sadly, is about all the film has going for it. Perhaps you should have made a music video instead. Any relevant or entertaining content is so thinly disbursed between random fits of brattiness and fort building/dirt throwing/pile making/[insert random childhood action here], that I would classify Wild Things (Not to be confused with the Neve Campbell film) as surrealism if the events had any driving force behind them whatsoever. But nope; It's just some kids playing. Oh, and some of them happen to be giant furry things.

At least the climactic metaphor (Max's "birth" from KW) actually made sense and gave the film some semblance of closure, but every other action Max and the nonhuman characters partake in seems like an exercise in time wasting. Thank the heavens this was just over an hour and a half; any longer and I would have taken a nap. There's more indie music/random event combos in this than there were in Juno.

What bothers me the most is that the first fifteen minutes of Wild Things are great. Kid feels neglected, throws a hissy-fit and runs away: a fine articulation of childhood frustration. When Max arrives at the island, the frustration wanders off and is replaced with a mess of childhood imagination tied together by thinly veiled tidbits of Max's actual life. The problem with this, is that all the characters on the island are Max; in that they are figments of his imagination, and therefore cannot possess any capacity for thought or emotion beyond his own. As a result, all events on the island are shaped by a grade-school auteur, and the characters can do little more than behave like whiny children.

I held out with the hope that once Max returned home the film would dazzle me at the end (with at least a fuzzy moment to make me feel good), but no such luck. Max's final scene at home is shorter than the end credits. Apparently, when a child runs away he should be rewarded with cake.



P.S. KW is a total pothead.

Couple's Retreat: Vince Vaughn's Mid-Life Crisis.

Dear Vince Vaughn,

It's time someone said it: You might not have it anymore. It's okay! You had a streak for a while (Old School, Wedding Crashers, Dodgeball), but as of late, you've made mostly failures. In fact, I think you've been replaced by the Apatow kids. Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, Jason Segal, and Paul Rudd have been picking up your slack.

So what is it, man? Are you starting to feel your age? The last two films that I consider "Vince Vaughn" films--that weren't related to Christmas--have been wishy-washy romantic comedies that couldn't decide whether to focus on the romance or the comedy. That's right, you remember The Break-Up. So what is it? Did you look back on your career and all of a sudden decide that it needed more dramatic weight? Wasn't the Psycho remake enough dramatic weight for one career?!

Now I'm not saying your attempts at combining believable drama and comedy are a bad idea. And though your execution is way off mark, I'm grateful that it isn't in another time zone like Funny People was.

In Couples Retreat, your characters are at the same time stereotypes and caricatures. Jason Bateman is so over-the-top enthusiastic and task-orientated that I wanted to slap him; Jon Favreau is your standard washed-up high school jock whose only goal appears to be partying with the twenty-somethings that for some reason find him attractive (not possible); Faizon Love is the standard overweight black friend; Kristen Bell is the puppy dog trying to please Jason Bateman; and Kristen Davis reprises her Sex and the City role.

Only you--Vince Vaughn, in case you forgot who you were during your mid-life crisis--and Malin Akerman have characters with any semblance of depth; a couple with a self-described "average" marriage and a lot of little relationship problems that you two didn't realize needed fixing. These characters are really the only two that are suited for the drama you attempted to squeeze into Couples Retreat, and that is why it feels so out of place.

Couples Retreat is, always was, and will forever be established as a comedy. Jon Favreau wouldn't be caught masturbating in any other genre. And while the film is funny, the attempts to include realistic dialogue regarding the characters' love lives weigh the humor down instead of enhancing it. You can't have a nearly naked yoga instructor comically dry-hump the female characters, and follow it with a scene of the ladies lecturing Charlotte--I'm sorry; I mean Lucy--about how inappropriate it was. They were all there getting dry humped themselves! Is one dry hump worse than another? What a lazy segue into "serious relationship talk" time!

This is how the film went:

1) Sctanley with a "c" humorously berates everyone.
2) Serious relationship talk time.
3) Faizon Love isn't wearing underwear.
4) Serious relationship talk time.
5) Vince Vaughn fends off sharks with witty banter.
6) Serious relationship talk time.
7) Jon Favreau and Charlotte try to get happy endings from their respective masseuses.
8) Serious relationship talk time.
9) All relationships are suddenly in epic turmoil!
10) Guitar Hero
11) Sexy Fun Time beach party
12) All relationship problems are resolved.

The thesis of your film is that Guitar Hero and beach parties solve all relationship problems.

There was one point in your film (I think that's all) where you combined comedy and drama perfectly. It comes when your character lectures Jon Favreau about Applebee's. Not only was it one of the funniest speeches in the film, it highlighted a greater dramatic issue (No one wants to spend their life going to Applebee's alone) without the characters trying to describe their painfully simple emotions to us in too many stupid words. You can sneak poignant thoughts into comedy without being so serious about it! Subtlety is largely underrated and underused these days.

The fact is, your tendency to juxtapose drama and comedy instead of combining the two throws the film off kilter. You can make references and thoughts about real-life relationships with your comedy, instead of forcing the audience to watch comedians attempting to emote. If you want everyone to sit down and talk about their feelings, write a drama. Don't sandwich it between a naked guy and Jean Reno. The beauty of films like Dodgeball and Old School is that they focus solely on comedy; romance is an afterthought, if even a thought at all. If you wanted to write a real romantic comedy on a tropical island, you should have had Jason Segel write your script. Do better next time.



P.S. I'm still convinced that once Kristen Bell found out that this wasn't Forgetting Sarah Marshall 2, it was too late for her to drop out.

In Regards to "Funny People."

Dear Judd Apatow,

If you ever attempt to write another film that is both funny and dramatic, my only request is that you don't fill it with penis jokes. Now, Ive enjoyed a good penis joke in my day. In fact, I enjoyed some of the penis jokes in Funny People. I did not, however, enjoy the fact that the entire movie felt like a never ending string of unfunny penis jokes. Its a crutch, Apatow. What were you thinking? Be creative. Write more original content! There was some here, but it was lost in a sea of cock and balls.

More importantly, take a class on narrative structure. Or have someone who knows something about it give you some pointers. You've somehow managed to take three perfectly fine script ideas and mash them together into one nonsensical film that has little to no regard for what has come before. Okay, so Adam Sandler is dying and he hires Seth Rogen to write some jokes for him. Perfectly fine setup. Its funny, I like it. Then you suddenly jump into a ridiculous montage of celebrity cameos that are amusing but completely irrelevant to the plot. The second act plays out like The Aristocrats: a collection of comics telling different jokes about the same thing, dropping the narrative almost entirely for a solid thirty minutes. Then, just as we think Adam Sandler is finally coming to his senses and becoming a better person...

YOU FUCKING CURE HIM? FUCK YOU!



You fucking cure him and you send him on a comic jaunt to his ex-wife's house, where of course her ridiculous Australian husband shows up and hilarity (a term use I use loosely and, in fact, sarcastically) ensues. The third act shows complete disregard for any dramatic standard you had set up, and comicly? It made me miss the penis jokes. What you've somehow done, is given us a portrait of a dying, lonely man finding redemption and then realizing hes too good for redemption, because hes seen Cats on Broadway.

You try to save it in the end. They always try to save it in the end. Ooh... they're friends again. Who didn't see that cop-out ending coming after the horrendous third act? Honestly, I'm surprised it wasn't all a dream!

You didn't have the balls to kill Adam Sandler and you couldn't muster up the maturity to write a script with any depth or originality. If you had, you could have made this mess of a film something worth watching.