Paranormal Activity, or An Epic Analogy of All Male Female Relationships.

Dear reader,

Honestly, Paranormal Activity is funnier than it is frightening, which works well to relieve tension, and to keep the film interesting during the scenes that aren't meant to scare the audience. The scares it does deliver, however, are mostly genuine; you aren't going to be forced to leap from your seat because of some cheap jump cut spliced together with a loud noise. The parts meant to disturb you are due to the film's images, not its editing techniques.

But all in all, it's not really going to be that frightening unless you're one of those people who goes into the theater knowing that you're going to be terrified for the rest of the night. Those of you who dare the film to scare you will grunt and shrug: "That wasn't scary, bro. I'm from Detroit." You know who you are.

You're not going to scream and pee your pants, but Paranormal Activity is still worth your time. It's engaging and suspenseful and definitely worth sticking around for the big finish at the end.


But that's not a letter to the filmmaker! I broke my own format! Formats are meant to be broken, children. Instead I decided to write a letter to the main character, Micah. After all, he is the cinematographer for most of the thing, right? Spoilers follow the cut, but let's be honest: Spoilers rarely ever spoil anything. You all will figure out what's going to happen before it happens anyway.

Dear Micah,

When your girlfriend tells you one day that she has been haunted by something since she was a little girl, you should dump her. Odds are that she's not really haunted, and this is your first sign that she's crazy. Okay, in your case, she actually had something haunting her, but is that really a better alternative? It can't turn out well either way.

But your story offers a striking tale of warning to anyone who decides to persue a relationship: Don't. It's a simple analogy. Boy and Girl fall in love and everything is dandy. Suddenly, a problem arises. Boy wants to solve the problem by filming it and picking it apart, but Girl just wants to ignore it in hopes that it will go away. But inevitably, they start trying to fix their problem; kill their demons if you will. This, of course, makes things worse and things spin wilder and wilder out of control until Girl turns into a demon and kills Boy.

Sigh...they all end the same.



P.S. When someone tells you not to use a Ouija board, do not use a Ouija board.

Jennifer's Body: Attack of the Pretentious Giant-Thumbed Monster.

Dear Diablo Cody,

You seriously have an Oscar? I mean, I had my issues with Juno (most of which can be summed up by the abridged version of the script), but it was still entertaining. Yet, when the trailer for Juno 2: Jennifer's Body was released, I knew I was in for 2 hours of torture (and not the good kind that horror movies tend to include). In the back of my mind, I thought it could be mildly amusing but obviously I gave you too much credit.

Five minutes into Jennifer's Body the person next to me leaned over and said, "I hate this movie." Something about a bunch of kids walking around saying stupid words you've designed to sound hip just doesn't fly anymore. Your teenage girl language passed in Juno because it was the entire theme of the movie and it was actually funny. In Jennifer's Body, your writing reminds me of the retarded kid on the football team; it's trying so hard to do well, but it is fundamentally incapable of generating anything but a few chuckles, which the audience immediately feels guilty for emitting.

I have this picture in my head of your writing process; let me know if I have it right: You sit at your typewriter (because you're obviously too pretentious for computers), and outline the plot for whatever quirky movie you're writing. Next, you go back through and look for opportunities to insert dialogue that is so painfully quirky and hip that it sticks out like an awkward boner (except awkward boners are usually funny). Finally, you throw in a couple of puns and the absolute worst plot tie-ins of all time and you send your script off with a note attached: "Hey, I'm Diablo Cody. I have tattoos and used to be a stripper. This script is obviously offbeat, quirky and hip because I wear leopard-print clothing." Works every time.

For a horror movie, the basic premise of Jennifer's Body isn't that bad. Girl likes indie band fronted by Adam Brody. Adam Brody sacrifices girl to Satan. Girl becomes infused with a demon and has to feed on human flesh to survive. Whatever. It's a horror movie, I don't care. But your inciting incident is a fire that starts for no apparent reason. Hey, it's a good thing all the important characters were essentially the only people to survive the fire that started without any explanation! Wait, was the band like, so "salty" that their music started the fire? Stupidest damn fire I've ever seen. What astonishes me is that you actually managed to explain most of the weird stuff that happened in the film (sometimes well, sometimes poorly), yet the event most important to the plot is the most mysterious thing in the entire movie.

You explained Jennifer's affliction well. You explained why that stupid band got famous. But the never ending hole to nowhere? You just thought that was a cool idea, right? You don't think that if scientists were trying to figure out where it led, they would maybe put, I don't know, tracking devices in there? Maybe the mystery was better than the truth (it certainly would have been to the audience), and the didn't want to discover that it led to some stupid stream by the mental hospital. Also, most people won't complain, but what's with the random lesbian moment? Wait, I can answer that. You figured the only way to get people into the theater was to put Megan Fox in some sexy little boy shorts and have her kiss a girl. Some of us are above the age of fifteen. Besides, girls are gross. Five minutes of Sexploitation just detracts from the plot. And don't even try to argue it's a throwback to some other horror movie. You are not Quentin Tarantino.

There were some good moments. Thank God for Adam Brody and J.K. Simmons. The sacrifice scene was done so well that I thought I was watching a different movie. Of course, spontaneously bursting into song always has been my thing. And it's only worth mentioning because you tried so hard, but there were occasional one liners that were genuinely funny. "Haha box cutter," I thought then resumed frowning. But most of the dialogue blew, your characters swear way too much (it's not funny, it's cheap), and most of Jennifer's Body simply annoyed the piss out of me. Especially Megan Fox. She couldn't act her way out of a box made by a mime and she has gigantic thumbs. That's right Megan Fox; you have giant thumbs and I hope you never forget it.

Anyways, Brook...I mean Diablo (good pen name. It's much quirkier and it's the shizz). Do us all a favor and go back to stripping. Wait, I just google imaged you. Just retire. And maybe hook Megan Fox up with your old contacts at the Vu.




P.S. The Low Shoulder sign at the end? Really? Worst thing I've ever seen.

Patrick Swayze: Off to Tame the Road House in the Sky.

Dear Patrick Swayze,

No matter what Kanye says, to me your death is the most upsetting of the year. You may not be as big a star as Michael Jackson, and of course your battle with cancer was well publicized so I knew the end was imminent, but you've given the world more than most celebrities ever will. Let's recognize your accomplishments.

-It was you who taught Ferris Bueller's sister to dance with passion. And I always believed you warned her never to get that nose job in the first place.
-It was you and Demi Moore who somehow made pottery sexy. Wait, pottery was always sexy. But you made it sexier; all the while prepping Whoopi Goldberg to win an Oscar. We all know who that Oscar really belongs to, Swayze.
-It was you who taught Keanu Reeves that when the man you're after turns out to be your friend, the only acceptable solution is to yell and shoot into the air.
-Seriously, Whoopi Goldberg won an Oscar.
-It was you who taught me that I am simply a product of fear. And that I had so much more gusta that I could musta.
-You played the best Pecos Bill I've ever seen, and you ripped out a man's throat. In one career.

Seriously, Swayze. You've graced us with some classics. Michael Jackson may have written some songs or whatever, but who really listens to Michael Jackson? You were in Road House. Was Michael Jackson in Roadhouse? No, he was in Miss Castaway, which...No, wait a minute. I'd probably watch that. But that's not the point, Patrick! The point is: ROAD HOUSE! It's Dawson Leery's favorite movie! That's how you know it's good. David Carradine died this year as well, but most people only know him as that guy from Kill Bill anyway. I love David Carradine, but Patrick...you mean so much more. By the way, David Carradine wanted to be at your funeral, but obviously he couldn't make it. It's too bad. He was really dying to come.

I know not everyone is as big a Swayze fan as I am. And I know a lot of people find my David Carradine joke distasteful. (Chill out, people.) But in all seriousness--and I know there was a lot of fake seriousness earlier--it really was disappointing to hear that you passed. I think I always thought of you as immortal, untouchable. As if you didn't really have cancer, but cancer had Patrick Swayze. In the end it got you, and that makes me sad. But I know you're up there, smiling down on us, just daring Keanu to try and shoot you now.



P.S. Now who am I going to confuse with Kurt Russel?

Inglourious Basterds, or Tarantino's Ego 2: I Know A Lot About Nazis.

Dear Quentin Tarantino,

Do you think you're audience is stupid? Wait, I suppose you're right; most of your audience is probably stupid. But plenty of us are not, and your inability to let any subtle point stay subtle in Inglourious Basterds was borderline insulting to me. You point arrows to notable Germans to alert us to their importance. You find it necessary to spontaneously insert a split-second sex scene to provide background information that could have easily been inferred. And finally (for the purpose of this letter I won't list everything), you have Samuel L. Jackson explain to us why film burns. Of course film burns. I get the feeling that you simply wanted to point out your epic, unrivaled knowledge of cinema history...which you do constantly.

You are the worst name-dropper of all time. Over and over again, you have your characters tell us about German cinema in speeches that are sometimes so long that all I saw was you fellating yourself onscreen. "Oh...my... God! Quentin you are so knowledgeable!" It's the same thing you did with grindhouse films in Deathproof: Blatant after blatant reference like you're trying to impress a professor or something. It's unnecessary and pretentious. Just stick to subtle references, those don't make me want to hit you.

Now, Inglourious Basterds isnt a bad film, no matter how much the misspelling of the title makes me want to say it is. It is entertaining and at times, fantastic. But your lack of any emotional levity is simply tiresome. Everything is a joke, and the problem is that you've given us the same jokes repeatedly four films in a row. Okay, I'm sure many people find your little idiosyncrasies hilarious, but your capacity to completely ruin scenes with cheap jokes or stupid camera work astonishes me. IF I WANTED TO WATCH A B-MOVIE I'D WATCH A B-MOVIE! Grow up and make something worthy of the budget you are given.

For example, your opening scene: Jews under the floor boards. The excellent (he really was excellent) Christoph Waltz slowly berating the dairy farmer for information he already knows. It was a great start. Then Christoph Waltz pulls out the biggest pipe I have ever seen. The theater laughs, I groan, and the scene is ruined. Why can't you take anything seriously? Why can't a girl sit nervously in a room with the man who killed her entire family without you focusing the camera on strudel? I hate strudel! Strudel ruins scenes Tarantino. Your new nickname is "Strudel."

Your characters are nothing but stock caricatures of whatever you need them to be and none of them have more depth than a glass of water. The most diverse character in the entire film is the dairy farmer in the beginning and he's in the film for ten minutes. It is pathetic, easy filmmaking.

You did save the day with the fantastic scene in the basement bar. If this scene didn't exist, I wouldn't have thought twice about giving your film a 1/10 on IMDB (the worst insult, like, ever!) Holy Hell, this scene was fantastic! You capitalized perfectly on your "knowledge" (someone probably told you) of culture and of the various accents in your film. You did manage to throw in your interpretation of "King Kong" in there, but it was semi-plot relevant so I forgive you.

A lot of other people might be pissed at you too. I think most people are expecting an action film. I hate mindless action, but that's what you're good at! You're like Michael Bay with dialogue other than grunting. Unfortunately, the Basterds appearances are so rare that I occasionally forgot why the movie was named after them. . Much of the film moves at a slower pace than I expected, and it actually drags in spots. Now Im not saying its boring (occasionally its boring), but someone needs to get some balls and tell you to stop it with the drawn out speeches and scenarios. In a perfect world, you would have made this movie: 2 hours of Brad Pitt and friends killing people; of course taunting and giving their little speeches along the way. It would have been more fun that way. Then, you give the other half of the script (Shosanna s story) to a writer/director who has the capacity to produce substance and you have two good movies! What you have here is much more of a wishy washy, I enjoyed it--but there were some terrible problems-- sort of meh, it was good, but not amazing film. I wanted more. C'mon, Tarantino. It's time for something new.

(500) Days of Summer, or I'll Never Understand Why She Left Me.

Dear Scott Neustadter,

Are you over her yet?

You've managed to do what every dumped male writer has dreamed of doing: You've written the story of the crazy bitch who broke your heart... and published it! Now everyone will know how cold-hearted and evil she truly is! I can hear your deep bellowing laughs of justice now.

Unfortunately, it's quite obvious that you never took the time to fully understand Summer's real-life counterpart, because the film never develops her character beyond the empty shell-of-a-human-being she obviously had to be to dump a catch like you. You appreciated her beauty, you liked the same things she liked, but you never got to know the girl the way you thought you did. Rookie mistake, buddy. And this is the major problem with your screenplay.

The story starts off strong: guy meets girl, decides she's the love of his life even though she has no idea yet, and attempts to impress her with his karaoke skills. Every epic love story starts this way, sometimes with minor changes, but the karaoke is always essential. So begins a barrage of cute scenes in which the main characters fall deeper and deeper into the treacherous fury of love. They play house in IKEA, tell each other pseudo-important tales of their hopes and dreams, and at one point Tom even prances happily through the streets accompanied by an animated bird (Did this happen in real life too, or did you make it up?). These scenes worked well; props to you! Everyone likes funny and adorable, even bitter, self-important film enthusiasts like myself.

Then, without warning (aside from the post-modern time jumping that has already alluded to this event), Summer dumps you. I'm just going to refer to the main character as "you" from now on, since we all know who Tom really is. Maybe this is how it ended in real life --I suppose that's some kind of an excuse--but it does not work in the film.

You never show the conflict. Your relationship never deteriorates, it just suddenly ends. Even if you found no evidence of your relationship slipping away, there had to be something somewhere that made Summer think, "This just isn't working." And you needed to put that in the script. Maybe she was upset that you got in that bar fight (You macho man, you.), but that wasn't enough. She just disappears for a while leaving us to deal with your moping.

But hey, it's not all bad. Walking into the theater, I was all ready to hate 500 Days of Summer, and I like, totally didn't! I was so worried that this was going to be fantastically quirky and chock full of indie culture that after I saw the trailer, I immediately picked up my hamburger phone, dialed a friend and said, "This "Summer" movie looks like it's going to be totally hip and trendy!"

Thankfully, Summer didn't turn out to be an older, she-wolf version of Juno. The cultural references were relatively tame. Yeah, the Smith's played nonstop, but I didn't have a problem with it. The Bergman parody was even impressive until you showed the chess board, causing the seventeen-year-old film buffs behind me to point out the Seventh Seal reference to their girlfriends. I shook my head at them, but then was equally disappointed that the cliche of Death and chess boards still goes over some people's heads.

So Scott, despite my complaints, I think you turned out something that's definitely worth seeing. It may not be the greatest movie of the Summer ( points for the pun?), but it is certainly a whole lot better than the last screenplay I wrote after being dumped; which was essentially 90 pages of binge drinking and chain smoking loosely tied around a narrative of woman-hating.

This is slightly more mature than that.



P.S. I can't decide if the "Autumn" joke was funny or pathetic. I'll let it slide.

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.