The Scorpion King

I should probably preface that I totally haven't seen the second Mummy movie, nor do I intend to.
I chose this winner based solely on its poster --->
and the fact that it stars Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.
Dude, The Rock is your character name. That's like Harrison Ford being billed as "Han Solo" in any film post-Star-Wars. Most people try to get away from being typecast but The Rock is all "Listen bros, I don't care if I'm a Scorpion King or a Tooth Fairy, I can't have people forgetting the best and most logical catch phrase in television history."

I mean, come on, look at his intense brow furrowing. That's how you know he's serious. Plus, there is a woman in some kind of chain mail bikini and some flaming swords. If you're a man and you don't have an erection yet, I suggest making a doctor's appointment because there is clearly something wrong with your junk.

Ohhh good news, everybody! The bad guy and the good guy in this feature both have stupid, ponytail-based hairdos. That's really the best indicator of a film's quality.

There's some ongoing junk about how The Rock is the last of some clan called The Acadians which seems like really poorly executed historical research to me, but who gives a shit? If I were the historical researcher for a movie starring The Rock, I would be like "Fuck this, losers. I'm going to make up some shit about French Canadian people and then I can go back to doing coke off my Brazilian girlfriend's fake tits." But I'm not, so instead I'm going to drink gin and complain about bad movies on the internet.

I gotta say, I'd much rather be watching some people attack each other with large guns while racing fast cars than shooting arrows from camels. Although there is unquestionably some camp value to The Scorpion King being shot from a catalapault into a harem.

The Rock's character has shaped eyebrows, long hair, appears to be wearing quite a lot of makeup and is named Matthias. No offense to Matthiases everywhere (Although I'm assuming that would be majoratively Switzerland), but that sounds like a really poorly-written, sassy, gay character who is the sidekick in a romantic comedy. The main character talks about how fat she is even though her BMI is substantially below the healthy level and he assures her that she is beautiful even though he totally digs cocks. "Oh, sweetie, you're sexier than a fireman covered in truffle oil"

Well, there's certainly no greater relationship starter than using each other to save your own ass. That's the real sexiness. "Hey, baby, I need to use you as a hostage" "Oh good, because I was hoping you'd smuggle me out of prison" and so on. I think that's the basic plot of most Kate Hudson movies. The fucked up thing is, it could totally be one. "The Hostage". And the poster shows the two of them back to back looking smug.

Could also work with Katherine Heigl and Matthew Macconaghey.

They keep calling The Rock "The Acadian" which, to me, sounds like a review movie theatre. You know, the one your grandpa goes to to see matinees of 12 Angry Men and yell at the screen?

Unquestionably, the best part of this movie is the frequent brow-furrowing and looking slightly to the left. The cover is pretty epic, but in reality it's just boring. And not even bad enough to be enjoyable. The kind of bad where you really want to turn it off but you're like "I dunno, man, we've made it this far. Maybe there will be some kind of epic battle..." Nope. Turn it off. Go have a wank or cuddle your pets (But for the love of god, not both at the same time). It will not get better. The epic, final battle is the same quality you'd expect to see in your local high school's production of Les Miserables. Although with much sillier costumes.

To sum up, I'm pretty put off by how little of this film actually pertains to scorpions, let alone scorpion heirarchies.

The Little Mermaid

Obviously, since I was once a little girl in the 90s, I've seen this movie a thousand times. However, while the other little girls wanted their very own Prince Eric, my interest lied squarely with Sam the dog. Before you get into any silly bestiality comments, please consider that as far as a 6-year-old girl is concerned, there are few differences between a relationship with a man and one with a loveably fictional dog. Tea parties, holding hands and, of course, cuddling. The only difference being that most girls don't imagine the dog dressed in a tux in front of a priest. (Perhaps one with a boner?)

Does anyone else find it a little strange that in this opening concert nobody noticed that Ariel was missing until the middle of the fucking performance? Weren't they like "Where the fuck is she?!" during makeup or any of the other preparations? For that matter, didn't someone at least have to help her get into that ludicrously over-sized clam shell thing? "She's not in here yet, I guess I'll just close 'er up and hope for the best" - some random stage hand. 

How can Sebastian possibly be Jamaican? Am I to believe that he's an immigrant? If so, would a crab from the Carribean really be able to survive in, what I'm guessing, is somewhere in Europe? I should say not. Therefore, the only reasonable explanation is that he is either faking it or has some kind of extremely unconventional speech impediment.

I need to address Ariel's compulsive collecting of human artifacts. At one point, she is running away from a shark and runs back to grab her bag at risk of being killed because it contains a fork. Even if you disregard how the Mer-people feel about humans, this is a very unhealthy addiction. I get that it's a slight betrayal for Sebastian to tell her father, but in the guy's defense I would totally tell him too. Though it is a wonder how the king would respond to a suggestion that he take his daughter to a Mer-Psychologist. Every other time I've seen this movie, I empathized with Ariel when her dad smashes all her things and - though I do admit that wasn't the best reaction - I feel sorry for the guy. If I found out my kid was that obsessed with anything, I'd freak the fuck out, too. I guess at least she's obsessed with humans and not Justin Bieber.

Disney, you guys need to cool it with the fatty hate. The evil character is an overweight octopus-woman? That's nice. Wouldn't her evil scheming and being a witch be sufficient to frighten children? Do we need to throw in a dash of intolerance as well? It's not as if young girls growing up watching this won't already want Ariel's lovely (and physically impossible), physique. Now, in addition, they learn the important lesson that fat people are evil and will try to kill you. Please note the fat French chef as another case of evil fat people trying to murder everyone you love.

We are made to believe that Flounder dragged the statue of Prince Eric back to Ariel's secret cave. That motherfucker doesn't even have a means of gripping something like that, let alone the strength to pull it a great distance. He can't have gotten help since only he and Ariel know about the cave. My only conclusion is that Flounder has been juicing. Also, if I were Prince Eric and I found out this bitch had a huge, ridiculous statue of me in her weird hide-out so she could look at me whenever and kiss it and god knows what, I would be extremely worried. As a Prince, I'm sure he's used to dealing with problems of stalkers and people who are into him that he wants nothing to do with, but seriously, it's one thing to Google Brad Pitt and print out 35 pictures of him and another altogether to have a fucking stone statue of him that's the size of a compact car that only you and your best friend (who happens to be a fish) know about. Seriously, this chick needs to be locked up. She's a hazard to herself and others.

By no means am I some kind of... hydrologist (is that a thing?!), but I am pretty fucking certain that if you were swimming that vigorously around the ocean, your fucking tiny as shit bikini top would fall right off. Admittedly, as far as Disney is concerned, this is probably a part of her anatomy and not some kind of clothing item. Kind of like Ursula's dress/tentacles.

I get that Disney cartoonifies everything, but just like their loving interpretation of baboons, I gotta say: have you ever seen a fucking ling? They are scary as shiiiiiiit! (Disney vs. Real)

Ariel turns into a human and learns to walk in like... five minutes? No chance she learns to walk upright that quickly. And that's if you completely ignore the whole mess of having entirely new genitalia. Seeing a vagina for the first time is definitely not something for the faint of heart, but consider the fact that she completely needs to re-learn how to pee.

This fucking asshole prince has a woman living with him and they're dating and going out together to events and like fucking going boating in blue lagoons together and this dick meets some other broad who has the same voice as some chick he remembers from a dream and he's like "LET'S GET MARRIED TOMORROW!!!!!" That's pretty fucked up, if you ask me. If he's willing to leave you suddenly on a whim just because you have laryngitis, he may not be the man you want. Also, wouldn't he, at some point in the marriage, see the real Ursula in the mirror when they're like... getting ready to go to work or whatever and be like "FUCK, you're secretly a fat witch who's also an octopus. We should maybe consider separating."

I really can't get into how fucked up it is that this girl is leaving everything and everyone she's ever known to be with a man she met 3 days ago. Even as a kid I thought this was insane. I get that he's gorgeous and also the god damned Prince, but... fuck. I think you might be jumping the gun a bit. This isn't like moving to Asia to be with someone you love. You can't go back to the world you grew up in. Ever. You can briefly see members of your family if they swim to the scary, dangerous surface (even though mermaid law dictates that humans are totally not supposed to see mermaids). It's a pretty messed up scenario. I hope things don't go South for this relationship.Thanks for the important lesson, Disney. Remember, kids: if you find a hot, rich guy, marry him right away even if it means never speaking to any of your friends and family ever again.

For additional information on how fucking terrifying ling are, click here.

Devil

Tonight I'm going to watch the newest M. Night Shayamalan movie because nobody else in the world is going to. Seriously, I saw a trailer for this movie in theatres, and there was a collective groan from the audience when his name popped up. Pretty sad. I almost feel sorry for the guy and then I remember his high-end call girls and millions of dollars and his giant mansion probably keep him warm at night where I have to settle for a bottle of whiskey and a duvet I stole from my mother's house.
Once again I will do my best to write this so you can read it if you haven't seen this movie since there is no fucking reason to see it unless you write a comedy film blog.

Basically, it's all about 5 people trapped in an elevator together and, allegedly, one of them is the devil.

The first shot you see is of your obligatory, ominous, biblical quotation in a scaaaary font. Then, we have a song that is full of strings and timpani and all manner of scary instruments that have reminded you of the devil since that one part of Fantasia that you always made your mom fast forward. This lovely music is played over negative images of a city. Oh shit, those sure are scary. I'm glad I couldn't make those in MS Paint in under a minute.

So for those of you who missed out on seeing the trailer for this beast, the biggest name (unless you're big into The O.C.) in this is the guy who says "The Snozberries taste like Snozberries" in Super Troopers. Side note: he is also fucking Christina Hendricks. I wish I were kidding. This guy is assigned as the scapegoat right off since he's ugly. Naturally, he's the first to die.

They give some bullshit science excuse for why the lights keep randomly going out in the elevator, but obviously it's a plot device. "How can we have people abusing each other in an elevator and not make it clear who perpetrated it?" "Let's shut the lights off." "Nobody will buy that." "We'll list M. Night as a producer." "PERFECT!"

The opening of this film is narrated by this Latino guy who turns out to be in charge of security or some shit in the building that houses the elevator from hell. Anyway, once he sees the elevator madness, he is the one who tells us that obviously the devil himself is at work here. How does he prove this theory? He picks up a piece of toast with jam and throws it in the air. It lands jam side down. Sir, even if you have an extremely basic understanding of science you can realize that the side with the jam on it is heavier and, subsequently, will land first. Fuck, I think I figured that out on my own when I was like 8 and someone asked why bread always lands jam-side-down. I guess if you're dumb enough to pay money to see this, you have a similar IQ to an 8-year-old. I think people would take this guy more seriously if he were an older, English fellow with a tweed jacket, glasses and a leather-bound book.

The... protagonist(?) I guess that's what we'll call him, of this film is a cop (obviously) who's investigating the elevator murder. The man has a devastating past that we are reminded of twice before even approaching the halfway point of the movie. "Here's why I don't believe in the devil: people are dicks and my life is hard."

Good lord, it seems the reason they've all been chosen to be in this elevator is because they're all evil and they need to be punished. I'm sure there's a porno out there with a similar premise.

One of the big, important security guys goes downstairs to find out what's causing the elevator to be stuck and he finds a high voltage wire has been disconnected. In lieu of finding some kind of professional in the field of high voltage wires, he attempts to pick it up with a stick. What he was planning on doing with it afterward remains a mystery to me, but obviously he's too busy being intensely electrocuted for us to find out. I'm sure he'll live even though that makes no sense.

Now they're trying to tell me that this whole thing is a metaphor for our own problems. If you take responsibility for the bad things you've done, everything will be okay. Please, M. Night, take responsibility for raping people's minds so that you can afford another Bugatti.

The "twist" ending of this makes you groan as much as the audience when I first saw the trailer for it. I won't tell you what it is in case you're dumb enough to see it, but lemme tell you, it's fucking horrible. Not an "Oh wow! That totally makes sense!" Much more of an "Oh, that's how they're going to get around that." If you want to be a writer you should see this movie just so you can see what not to do. It's really eye-rollingly awful. (If you really want to know what it is but don't want to see the movie, shoot me an email and I'll tell you.)

So basically this movie was everything I'd expected and even less. I wouldn't suggest watching it unless you enjoy shitty, shitty films. Here's hoping someone locks M. Night Shayamalan in an elevator before he gets a chance to make anything else.

Clip Show: Tremors/Cars/Panic Room/Blade Runner

Alright, so since it's freaking Christmas and I'm busy as hell, I bring you the four unfinished reviews that I've done since I began the blog. They didn't get finished for a variety of reasons; from lack of material to passing out face-first into my keyboard and waking up watching an infomercial with "ASDFG" on my face. So here they are in all their imperfect glory. We'll be back to real entries soon enough. Italics represent Sober Morgon.

Tremors

Kevin Bacon and some dude who totally look like Edward James Olmos are... I don't even fucking know what... like handymen or some shit. It seems to me they're payed to argue and drive around the American desert and generally be country hicks. You can tell because they're wearing denim shirts with the sleeves ripped off and dirty cowboy hats. Some poor props person probably had to rip sleeves off like 30 jean shirts just for Kevin Bacon. I hope film school was worth it.

Some woman from "the university" comes to the tiny hick town to take seismic readings. "The seismic readings are off the charts!" says this broad. Off screen, Kevin Bacon and the other hicks are looking at each other and going "What the fuck does 'seismic' mean?"

How Kevin Bacon got famous with a mug like that, I'll never understand. I guess he was a good dancer or whatever, but he just... is unappealing. Please, feel free to disagree, 45-year-old women, but I find him particularly grotesque when he's got long hair (IE. Often). Look! It's pre-pubescent Skeletor!

I think I would've actually enjoyed this film if I'd actually finished it. It seemed to be a sort of "so bad it's funny" sort of things, but one of the ones that knows it's bad, if that makes sense.

Cars

At the moment, I am unable to get into how many things are logistically impossible in a world where everyone is a car. This first scene, alone, brings up a mess of questions. How did all these cars get into their "seats" to watch this race? ... for example.

In this world, they have restaurants. What do they serve in these restaurants? Oil? Gasoline? Uhh... oil? What the fuck is the point?

Even in a world made of cars, fat chicks are hated on. Got to love it.

This concept of one car being sexually attracted to another car confuses me. In this world, sex does not exist. How do they do anything that is remotely equivalent to sex? My guess is that they don't. I'm sure they're trying to give us some bullshit like that it's love, not sex, but he's like "Hey, you're sooo hot. You have a tramp stamp. Whaaaat?!" They are assembled in factories. Factories that are somehow owned and operated by cars? That's creepy as shit!

I am genuinely interested to know how a car becomes an attourney.  Seriously. What do car law schools look like? For that matter, what do car SCHOOLS look like? Are all jobs covered like in humanity? I guess mechanic and doctor are the same thing, although that makes me uncomfortable. Are you assembled as a racing star? I find all of this deeply confusing.

WHY do these cars have teeth and tongues?!

Where does he keep his car wallet so that he can aid the economy of this ghost town?

Why are there seats in cars that drive themselves? Also, these cars drive themselves?

Why is it that tractors and threshers are cows, but forklifts and helicopters are people (cars)?

While we're on the subject of helicopters, I think the concept of one person climbing inside another and going for a ride is beyond weird. (I think here I was trying to talk about the truck that the main character rides around in, though... lord knows.)

I ended this review because, as you can see, it became entirely about the logistics of a car society. I really could've gone on about this for hours. The whole thing blows my mind hole.


Panic Room

Saw this motherfucker was on and deemed it the perfect target. Jared Leto with cornrows? I can't go wrong!
 
Forest Whittaker, you are far too good an actor to be in this monstrosity... even if you do look kinda like Admiral Akbar. (I'm sorry, I do actually respect your acting skill, not that you're reading this.)

Obviously, it is an older, English fellow who tells us all about the panic room. "This is a panic room. It stops burglars from stabbing you in the jugular" Typical Horror/Thriller BS. You've always got to have the middle aged English dude telling you the 'lore of story. Thanks for setting up that Jodi Foster is claustrophobic, though. I'm sure that won't come back later in the story.

If you've actually seen this madness, you will note the ludicrous number of CGI zoom-ins they do. It's like "Burglars are in the house, zoom through the kitchen" "There's a thick concrete wall, zoom through the wall." Ever seen CSI? You've seen this movie. Clearly they were excited about the new and exciting world of computer animation. You know, because nobody had done computer animation before 2002.

There is soooo much of Jodi Foster's cleavage in this movie. Admittedly, she's supposed to have just gotten out of bed, but I venture to guess a woman of her age would've worn slightly more clothing to bed. Is Jodi Foster a sex symbol? Am I missing something? She reminds me of a 16-year-old boy.

Also, the bitch from Twilight is in this. She is the fucking daughter. Who knew? In this film, instead of playing a girl with serious emotional problems due to being in love with the undead, she's just a lesbian.

I admit this film might actually be a bit nerve wracking if it weren't for the fact that they keep shoving Jodi Foster's tits in my face all the time and doing these weird, slo-mo CGI montages.

I'm really supposed to believe that some woman who grew up in Greenwich Village knows how to rewire a phone? Yes, apparently I am. Okay, this bitch grabs the phone cord out of the wall, strips some wires and just jams them into the phone and it's able to make calls. I can't even get into how little sense that makes.

Alright cool, so the kid is diabetic or some shit and also afraid of the dark. I might be tricked into thinking this didn't bode well for them, but the sympathy vote is always a lifesaver in shit movies. If it were the real world, things would certainly be different.

Then I fell asleep. That's what happens when you try to do a review of a movie after you get home from a party and are full of liquor. 

Blade Runner

Unlike most of my reviews, I am going in this completely fresh-faced. I haven't seen more than 30 seconds of this film before, but have heard much about it. I've actually wanted to see it for quite some time, but instead I've opted for the route of making wise cracks at the film's production in lieu of just enjoying it for all its legitimate merits.

The people in this world seem to use umbrellas that are the sad off-casts of the light saber factory. Good thing Han solo is there to keep an eye on everyone.

Interesting note (at least, it's interesting if you're a major dweeb): in this film derogatorily refer to human-looking robots as "skin jobs" which is the same terminology they use in the re-make of Battlestar Galactica. Allegedly, this is an homage to the original film since Edward James Olmos is in there somewhere. Just so you know, if you found that interesting, you're a dork.

I really was under the impression that Harrison Ford was a acceptably good actor (You know, after being Han Solo and all) but this movie has proved me horribly wrong. The man narrates quite a bit of the film in a sort of deadpan that would lead you to believe he was more likely to be a robot than a robot killer. Oh no, perhaps that will be the final, shocking  piece of information. "Harrison Ford is a robot." Han Solo is C3PO, everyone. Kindly adjust your strange fantasies accordingly.

Hey, robot dudes! It is really not very polite to force-ably strip Mr.Miyagi! The poor man is just trying to look at eyeballs with a microscope using chopsticks! (This is a real scene that happens) I have no idea what I'm talking about here, but it seems entertaining so I'll leave it in.

I'm guessing this is supposed to be one of those existential films since there's a robot girl who doesn't know she's a robot. "but man, what if, like, we're ALL robots and we don't even know it?" "Whoooaaa that's so deep..." everything's deep when you're so high you're at risk of being struck by a 747.

and once again I fell asleep. I guess that means I'm not a robot.

______________________________

There we go. I hope you enjoyed (or at least didn't totally fucking despise) Our special "Morgon is too busy to write a real review" edition of Drunk Morgon's Film Blog. I hope you had a grand celebration of whichever winter holiday you choose or are forced to celebrate.

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

In honour of the holidays, I believe it's time for me to poke fun at a film that has been delighting children for generations. 
If anyone can desecrate a Christmas classic with booze and inappropriate jokes, it's me. Or, perhaps, your uncle after mainlining egg nog since 2 pm.

I threw the "1947" there in the title so you wouldn't think I was talking about the one starring Matilda.

Our feature begins with a fellow who clearly is under the impression that he is Santa Claus. He turns up at the Macy's Thanksgiving day parade and finds the fake, float Santa to be all liquored up. He finds this to be absolutely despicable. Sorry Santa. S'pose I'm not much better. Good thing I already don't believe in you and am therefore going to hell... er... not get fancy gifts.

It is unbelievably clear right from the get-go that this movie is 60+ years old and this is even if you disregard the ethnicity of the housekeeper. The first time you meet the little girl, she's over at a strange man's house who brought her over there because "he's very fond of her". Whooooaaaa, hold the phone, Mr.Gailey, and please stop touching that little girl's arm while she's alone in your apartment.

Also, this movie is all about the commercialization of Christmas and about how it's no longer about Santa and instead it's about money. Funny, I thought it was supposed to be about the birth of like... some guy or something. Good thing this guy hasn't seen 2010 and a generation of 10-year-olds throwing fits over getting 2GB iPods when they wanted 8GB.

As a child I always thought people in the times of black and white movies just generally sounded the same. I'm guessing it's some kind of thing to do with the  recording technology at the time, but I find that there are 3 or 4 different voices for each sex and 4 for children, but after that it doesn't vary much. Every single female secondary character in this movie seems to be from Queens and also speaks directly through her nose at all times.

I understand that this woman wants her daughter to be smart and well-adjusted and doesn't want to lie to her or whatever, but telling your kid there's no Santa is just downright immoral, if you ask me. I am down for not lying to children, but when your 8-year-old goes to school and tells all her friends Santa Claus isn't real, she's going to be a pariah and you're going to be an asshole. "Mommyyyy! All the other kids threw stones at me!" "It's okay dear, they're all just misinformed." The good news is, this girl can grow up to be perfectly suited for sitting at a desk doing data entry or, if she's lucky, crushing the dreams of the innocent.

Once again, this woman is leaving her young daughter alone with a man she barely knows. Only this time, instead of being a handsome and wealthy young bachelor, it is a 70+ man with a beard who is still unmarried (which, in 1947, was kind of a big deal) and this time they're hanging out alone in her bedroom with the door shut. Admittedly, this is the same little girl who frequently chews gum in bed. Parenting 101: don't do anything that happens in the original Miracle on 34th Street.

I am fascinated by the concept that parents took their children to see this in 1947. I guarantee you could not get a kid of the 2000s to sit through this movie for all the Nintendo Wiis in the world. I'm not going to lie, I'm having a hard time paying attention and I'm not 6 (though I do have a similar attention span). Last time I tried to watch this movie I'm pretty sure I passed out as soon as the trial started. Seriously, a huge portion of this movie takes place in a courtroom. If you tried to pitch that for a kids' film now, you'd be laughed right out of the office. "But.. Children love drawn-out legal battles!" "SECURITY!!!"

Clearly whomever wrote this was from New York City. Not only is Santa Claus (like, the official, worldwide one) an American, he's a god damned New Yorker. A little self-centered, wouldn't you say?  Isn't he supposed to live in the North Pole, not a retirement home in the outskirts of New York City? Although, if you follow that logic, the man is obviously Canadian. That could be me being equally nationalistic.

All in all, even if you're a major Christmas hater, this movie's pretty solid. This film does have some actual, genuine wit. I wouldn't attempt to watch this with kids unless you want them to start playing Hungry Hungry Hippos in the middle of it. From an adult perspective this is a definite recommend. Merry Christmas, motherfuckers, and sorry I left out anyone reading this who doesn't do the whole Christmas thing. Enjoy your latkes.

What Happens in Vegas

If Cameron Diaz is playing a stock broker, it's pretty safe to assume you're not about to watch a masterpiece. However, outrageous character careers aside, I was not prepared for just how bad this was going to be.

I have to ask: was Cameron Diaz always this weird-looking? I thought she was good-looking, but in this movie she looks like she was crafted from cheap leather stretched over the skeleton of a bird of prey and covered with latex paint.

So anyway, Cameron Diaz is left by her boyfriend or fiance or what fucking ever, and Ashton Kutcher clearly has a gambling problem so they both go to Vegas to (presumably) meet each other in some extremely unlikely circumstance. Or "Blow off some steam" as the excuse may be.

Ashton Kutcher's gambling addiction is used as a comedic device because addictions are, generally speaking, the best way to open a comedy. Haha! This guy has a crippling addiction! It's ruining his life! HILARIOUS! I mean, if you weren't rolling on the floor laughing while watching Requiem for a Dream, you just have no sense of humour.

So this perfect and obviously meant-for-each-other couple meet as a result of the male one stumbling into the female one's hotel room unintentionally. You know, because that's possible. Hotel room doors close automatically and need to be opened by a card key. Unless it's 1973 - which the number of cellular telephones in this film seems to indicate is not the case - I don't think they can just saunter into a hotel room at random.

Once this happens, our lovely antagonists (I meant to write protagonists, but I feel this is a far more appropriate title) complain to hotel staff. For some mysterious, inexplicable and probably impossible reason, they give them an all-expenses-paid, crazy, VIP bender around Vegas.

This bender includes Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz finding a 'real' connection, and, in true romcom fashion, falling for each other (personified by them having sex, of course).

And then they get married.

And then he wins the jackpot from a slot machine and since they're married, she technically gets half.
They go to court to decide the official owner of the $3 million and the judge sentences them to 6 months of living together and being married before they're allowed to claim any of it. Yup. Actually. Who wrote this? What studio approved this idea? A court order demanding they be married? Are you fucking kidding me? I've heard better ideas for joke sitcoms on real sitcoms.

So despite hating each other and feuding over the rightful ownership of $3 million, they are forced to live together by court order. Naturally, this leads to a number of "hilarious" moments where they attempt to out-do one another. In one incident, the toilet seat and then the bathroom door are removed. In another, one drugs the other's smoothie. This is definitely the sort of innovative comedy writing that people will be talking about for generations. It's films like these that one day our children will show to their children and say "This, my beloved offspring, is comedy in its truest form."

Let's hope to God someone shits their pants.

Although I do not condone shitty writing, I do condone Ashton Kutcher playing Wii Tennis without a shirt on. I apologize for that, straight males and gay females. But it deserved being mentioned as it has definitely been the best part of this movie by a pretty substantial margin. Fortunately, this is eventually saved by some pretty choice lines by Zach Galifanakis.

The amount of alleged legal mumbo jumbo involved in this film makes me want to puke into my shoes and wear them for a couple days. "In the case of ___ vs. ___, it was stated that..." No. In no other case did a judge decree that a couple remain fake married because they were a shitty couple and it was desecrating the institution of marriage. And if there has, that judge should be fired on the spot and/or get hit by a bus.

I swear to God, if they end up together at the end of this crap factory, I am going to walk to Hollywood and burn the motherfucker down. And by that I mean obviously that is going to happen.

Hollywood has gotten to a point where they realize that if they put some famous people in a movie that don't like each other at the beginning but like each other at the end, people will pay $12.95 to see it every fucking time. Why? Because they will. And you know who's fault that is? Not theirs. If I could get paid a million dollars to write a shit movie, I'd fucking do it. But would I pay money to see this crap? Fuck. No.

Eventually, they're pulling everything possible to get out of this situation. They have an epic race to the marriage councilor's office (including, but not limited to: Cameron Diaz exposing her breasts to pay for a cab ride and a motherfucking baguette fight). They also make light of domestic abuse. I mean, if I'm paying top dollar to see a romantic comedy, I'm definitely going to need some jokes to be made at the expense of abuse victims.

Shock and dismay, she's seen his weakness. His father will never think he's good enough. That's why he's such a failure with a gambling problem. Oh fuck, he coaches little league and has other redeeming qualities including a shared interest in extremely popular movies. That's definitely something to base a marriage on. That and a court order.

Why must TV and movies repeatedly force the idea down our throats that if you rrreeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaally hate someone enough, one day you'll miraculously find out you both love Star Wars or some shit and suddenly be in love. No. If you really hate someone enough and you both like Star Wars you'll realize that Star Wars is one of the most popular film franchises of all time and that this person is still a fucking asshole.

Oh, she's come to the fancy ball all dolled up and now it's becoming very clear to him that he loves her. You know, because her regular clothes were not enough. Love is based entirely on the physical appearance of someone when they are wearing an expensive dress. "I didn't realize she was beautiful because she was only wearing her normal clothes." The major difference between the two: this dress is strapless and she's wearing a push-up bra. Thank you, What Happens in Vegas for showing me that love = boobies.

They do, inevitably, fall in love but only after they get a divorce and after a big, obnoxious courtroom scene with Queen Latifa. They end up back together and I end up losing faith in humanity and also spilling bourbon all over my bed in a fit of rage.

The most fucked up thing about this movie is the fact that I am sure there are women all over the world watching this and thinking "I wish I could be in a relationship where someone loves me like this." Women of the world: no you don't. This is the absolute definition of an unhealthy relationship. They treat each other like shit but according to film logic it's okay because they're in love? "Hey honey, I took a shit in your bed." "That's okay, sweetie. We love each other and that's all that matters."

Luckily, none of you have to watch this train wreck. Although, I technically didn't have to either. It is easily one of the worst written full-length features that I have ever seen. I'm telling you that this was physically painful to endure. Please do not watch it; not only for yourself, but for the sake of society as a whole. If I had a choice between having a wisdom tooth removed and re-watching this, I would choose the former since it is at least accompanied by prescription drugs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go sleep on a liquor-soaked mattress.

Bee Movie

I usually try to pick movies that a person with a similar sense of humour to my own would either have seen or have no desire to see. I watch the shitty movies so you don't have to. This is dedication. Tonight's feature is, unfortunately for my mental health, one of the latter.

I can't decide who I'm more disappointed in: Jerry Seinfeld or whomever decided it was a good idea to cast Jerry Seinfeld as a CGI bee.

It's only the pre-movie advertisement that's supposed to make me want to watch the movie and I'm already sick of bee-related puns. I can't bee-lieve this. I promise that's the last one I'll make. Not the last one I'll be horrified by, though, I'm sure. Somehow they just made a pun about "Pomp and Circumstance" What. The. Fuck. I'm going to bee sick. AAAAAAH! It's contagious!

I need to get this out of the way quickly in order to satisfy my need to have a nerd attack: all worker bees are female. All of them. Look it up. Male bees are "Drones" and they're basically living sperm factories. However, so far in this movie, the only female bees we've seen are Jerry Seinfeld's mother and a tour guide. Oh no, now there are two giggly sluts who are turned on by pollen. Fuck you, writers! How could you betray us with something so unrealistic! Luckily, they kept in the fact that bees drive tiny cars around the hive and totally wear clothes as long as they're yellow and black.

So Seinfeld bee leaves the hive even though he's not supposed to and falls in love with a woman. Bee. Love. Woman. For the love of fuck, really? Inter... not just species... we're talking fucking inter-phyla relationships. If you have issues with inter-racial relationships, don't see this movie. I'm not against people being happy and in love, but I'm not sure I can get behind this relationship. Even if you completely disregard all the issues with internal organs and exoskeletons, size itself is a major problem. And on top of all this shit, the crazy broad seems to be falling for him, too. "Well, I went on a couple dates with this guy and I think we're hitting it off" "Oh really? Where does he live?" "A hive, because he's a fucking BEE!!!!" Clearly this movie is trying to perpetuate our standard, Hollywood "Love conquers all" tripe. Love doesn't conquer all. Especially if one of you has ten thousand times the life expectancy and body mass.

Additionally, does nobody else question the fact that this woman is talking to a bee? At first she's all like "Clearly I'm dreaming" but then she realizes she isn't but is like "Well, if I'm not dreaming, that's fine. I'm clearly just talking to a bee" and fucking moves on with it as if it's no big deal. I like living in a fantasy world as much as the next person, but this is just out of control.

Also, how loudly are bees talking to each other if their normal, indoor voices are the same with one another as they are when speaking to a human thousands of times their size? Perhaps this concerns me slightly more than it should.

There is a brand of honey in this film called "Ray Liotta Honey" and I find this humourous and so should you.

My pathetic drunk self was actually sad when the main bee's best friend stung a guy. I audibly shouted "Oh no!" I was concerned he would die. But, through ludicrous film magic, despite stinging a fat man in the butt, he survived because he obtained intravenous honey in the human hospital where he was staying. I get that honey is very important for bees, but I'm pretty sure if you pumped it into their circulatory system it would not go well. Though, I do admit I'm not some kind of bee doctor.

You may have noticed that I have been deliberately avoiding the plot of this film. Why? Because I enjoy the fact that you are reading my blog and I want you to be happy. I am giving you only the parts of this movie that are worth seeing and, let me tell you, the plot is not one of those things.

Now, don't get me wrong, I really like Jerry Seinfeld. Seinfeld is, arguably, the best show ever made. Having said that, the man is by no means an actor. The reason he does such excellent comedic work is because he is not a very good actor. Hearing Jerry Seinfeld deliver a "heartwarming speech" definitely leaves something to be desired. His voice is not suited to the obligatory epic speech that accompanies any movie with half-assed writing. It is far more suited to tangents about low talkers and inferior bobka.

Well, that's it for Bee Movie. It definitely wasn't the worst thing I've seen so far, but if you happen to be flipping channels one night and there are children about and it's either this or Santa Buddies, I'd definitely recommend this one. You may laugh more than once at something other than the irony that you used to want to be a veterinarian.

Oh, and I can't really find anywhere to put this, but I feel like it's totally relevant.

Face/Off

A film where John Travolta and Nicolas Cage trade identities by literally swapping their faces is one that deserves being made fun of endlessly.

This movie begins with slo-mo and close-ups of John Travolta on a carousel and Nicolas Cage drinking from a straw with a comical moustache. As someone trying to write in the comedy genre, it is important to note that there are some times in life when there is nothing you can write that will ever be as funny as when someone else tries to write something serious and fails miserably. This entire movie is the perfect example of this phenomenon.

For example, Nicolas Cage has just planted a large bomb and is now -- I shit you not -- dancing provocatively in a priest's robe. His character is definitely one of the most over-the-top movie villains I've ever seen and that can be based solely on these sunglasses.

The amount of slo-mo in the movie alone deserves an entire entry. I've been watching it for 15 minutes and there have already been two separate and unrelated slow motion gunfights. I am beginning to believe this movie was made in normal speed and they were like "Shit, it's only 25 minutes long. What do we do?" "Make it 90% slow motion?" "GENIUS!" That guy got promoted to "Dude who brings the coffee and doesn't get spit on."

God damn, John Travolta's daughter is some kind of delinquent (aka. a teen). That's why he's such an emotional wreck that he has stubble and his tie is loosened. I mean, the girl as a nose ring and wears eyeliner for Christ's sake. If that we're my kid, I'd drive my car into a landmine factory.

At long last it is face-switchin' time. Did anyone casting this movie look at the shapes of Nicolas Cage and John Travolta's craniums? They are completely differently shaped. This is not just a certain amount of facial fat, this is a completely different facial structure. The explanations of the science behind how it's all possible are ludicrous to the point of absolute hilarity. "We'll give you plastic surgery and affix his face to your face" Okay, here's the thing: this is what a person with a full-face transplant looks like after months of healing. This is what "John Travolta" looked like after the face-swapping montage was over. Keep in mind this movie also came out over a decade ago. I have to say, if you don't yet have the scientific advancements to make a realistic-looking CGI laser, then you likely don't have access to the medical science required to keep John Travolta's face in a jar while he's out test-driving another one. I guess maybe this could be possible if the FBI has secret medical techniques that they're hiding from the public; so long the surgeon is the big man himself (Gandalf)  and their new, fancy drugs are made of ground up leprechauns and unicorn semen.

There have been films in which I have considered Nicolas Cage and John Travolta to be good actors. This is not one of those. The amount of over-acting involved in every single scene makes me want to cry with laughter and then immediately call all acting schools in the surrounding area and suggest this as a "what not to do" video.

Having said that, I am partial to any movie that contains the phrase "sex sandwich".

Also, I do genuinely enjoy how much Travolta makes fun of his own appearance. The man's famed chin dimple is referenced specifically at one point; being referred to as "This ridiculous chin."

To those who watch True Blood: Andy Bellefleur is in this movie; but it's before he went bald.
I've come to the realization that if you watch any movie from the late 90s, you'll find it to be choc-full of people you know from current TV shows. Don't believe me? Hyde from That 70s Show has a brief role as a dude who tries to rape Travolta's daughter.

One of the climactic scenes of this shit show is a like... 7-man Mexican standoff in the middle or a church. If the action film you've been writing in your basement on your mom's computer has anything less, you're a pussy. Though there's a pretty good chance of that being the case anyway.

Please do not forget that this film includes a speedboat gunfight. Yes, actually. These two lifelong rivals who have switched faces chase each other down in speedboats and attempt to kill one another from their respective water crafts. There are so many flaming explosions, you would think you were watching Nascar. At one point, one of them tries to kill the other one with the anchor of the boat. Seriously, find me another movie with an attempted anchor killing, and I will buy it on DVD (disclaimer: I probably won't). This fight scene also includes a harpoon gun. What the fuck do you need a harpoon gun for in Los Angeles?! You do not. You also have to appreciate that the day is won by giving the antagonist a swift kick in the balls. I think we could all learn a lesson from this film: the best way to thwart a criminal mastermind who is wearing your face is the same way to win $10,000 on America's Funniest Home Videos.

"Hey, JT, by the way, we can make you look totally the same as before you slapped on N Dogg's face and got in an anchor fight with an evil drug lord." Oh thanks, magic/science. Where the fuck would we be without you? We definitely wouldn't be having this adorable, soft-focus scene where they show us that even though bad things happened, everything is okay. So okay that John Travolta's daughter takes out her giant nose ring and starts dressing like a normal person. It's about fucking time. Her individuality was beginning to grate on my nerves.

In conclusion, I believe that this photo summarizes this film in a way that no review ever could:

Get Rich or Die Tryin'.

For anyone who is not aware, this is the 50 Cent movie that is allegedly based on his life.
I realize that only 4 or 5 people actually saw this, so I'll do my best to make this review readable to those who haven't.

Somewhere in the beginning he's talking about how he doesn't know who his father is and says "The problem was, everyone loved my momma; so anyone could be my daddy." So... "My mom's a slut." Thanks, son! I'm really glad you put my promiscuity into your film as a plot device. That's every mother's dream!

His girlfriends' parents find a rap tape that he's recorded and given to her as a gift. In true 50 Cent form, it is overtly sexual and includes phrases like "Lick up on it." The girl's parents make her move away. Personally, I think that's a slight over-reaction to owning a tape with explicit lyrics, but the 80s were a different time. You can never be too careful in an era when this was not only acceptable, but revered.

You know, this IS a deeply heartwarming tale. 50 Cent becomes a drug dealer at a pretty young age. When asked why, he replies that it is so he can afford to buy sneakers. Footware is the true currency of the impoverished.

The switch between "Young 50" and him after like... 15 is definitely when the shit starts to get good (and by "good" I obviously mean "hilariously awful.") Watching 50 Cent attempting to act is really deeply entertaining. I actually laughed aloud when he was having a fight with some family members that ended with him yelling "I'm a gangsta, grandpa, and I'm proud of it!" Good lord. Really?

Correct me if I'm wrong, here, but I suspect that part of being a good rapper is being able to speak quickly but still be understood. Maybe he was better at opening his mouth before the whole... shot in the face... thing, but I feel like Mr.Cent would be a superior rapper if he would actually open his mouth while speaking. Then again, I am not some kind of hip hop scholar.

I happen to be watching this on TV (since I don't exactly have the capital for renting movies at the moment) and I think the censors need to get their shit straight. Earlier in the film they blurred out a joint that was being passed between 2 guys, but completely left in the scene on how to make crack. Having youth know what a joint looks like is completely unacceptable, unlike showing them how to make crack and also innumerable gang fights and drive-by shootings. Shooting people and drug dealing: cool; smoking weed and eating Cheetos in your underpants: tantamount to genocide.

Majorly epic scene that I'm supposed to be sad about and all I can think about is how funny it was one when the one guy said "I'll get a amb-a-lance."

Well, I went to refill my drink for what I thought was 2 seconds and now 50 Cent is in jail and the man who, earlier, was wearing a mesh tank top is now some kind of rap producer. In the meantime, our protagonist has been scrawling rap lyrics on the wall with a razor. Seeing as he became a famous rapper, this is kind of a neat plot point. If he hadn't, they'd just have been the incoherent ramblings of an insane, incarcerated man.

All I know is that this new part where 50 Cent is doing less shooting people and way more rapping is extremely boring. So what if you can make rap music with beats people like? Snooooooooore. It's way more interesting when you're popping caps in asses.

Right before he gets shot in the face in this movie, he says "I thought I heard my mother call my name. Turned out it was my grandma. That's what saved my life." Interesting if you're following all this drama about 50 Cent's Twitter. Grandma, you may have saved my life, but I ain't takin' out no garbage now that I've gotten rich as opposed to dying trying. He certainly has gotten rich. This is what he does now when he's bored.

I really do need to remember how stylish one looks whilst wearing a bullet-proof vest. I think I am going to purchase one as a fashion accessory. Fiddy's, however, must serve a slightly more practical purpose. Shoot me one time, shame on you, shoot me 9 times and I'm going to start wearing a bullet-proof vest to bed. He may also want to invest in a helmet. Just a thought.

Overall: this movie is worth watching for the comedic value alone. There are definitely some moments that will make you crack up with laughter. I hope you can tolerate 50 Cent's music, though, since it is the entire sound track. Occasionally they listen to it on the radio in times before he was even recording music. Yep. For real. I give this movie 9 gunshots to the face. (Zero, of course, being the ideal - since nobody wants to get shot in the fucking face.)

Can't Hardly Wait

From the opening alone we can tell this is a 1990s teen RomCom. (Personally, I prefer my romcoms to have some zom in there too.) There's some pop-rock song overlaid with a brightly-coloured, handwritten-looking font. And, of course, the words "Seth Green".

Alright, this is bringing back my prior crap about high school movies. I admit I'm not a dude and I also admit I was 10 when this movie came out. However, I do not get being in love with someone you don't know. I get that she's pretty (in fact, this dude doesn't even see her face before he's officially in love with her) What else are we basing this on? Her skills at selecting painfully nineties outfits including some kind of tank top with a lime green daisy on it?

Oh shit, Sabrina the Teenage Witch wants to get her yearbook signed by everyone? Couldn't she use some kind of spell for that? Actually, probably not. Her aunts would be like "Sorry, you can't trick people into doing things. You can only use magic for things that aren't of any actual use to you in real life. Thus making it clear that wishing to be a witch was a waste of time. Do you hear that, all 14-year-old girls? (Being a vampire would suck too, all puns aside)

Well, it just wouldn't be a 90s high school movie without Donald Faison and Breckin Myer. Don't know who those dudes are? I bet you do.

Someone needs to inform film makers that there is actually a market for writing female characters that have more depth than being like, the hottest girl ever. Basically, if a female character is written in a remotely realistic fashion, the best she will get is a pity lay (aka Seth Green).

Clearly Jennifer Love-Hewett is the fucking love interest. She's got that whole "girl next door" look to her. Yeah, if the girl next door got very expensive implants and some veneers. No, the "girl next door" look is bullshit. I think it really just means "brunette".

Seriously, can someone please confirm or deny the realism of women in 90s high school movies basically wearing bikini tops to parties? Was there a time when this was an acceptable alternative to... you know... clothes?

I bring your attention to all the cool guys and their respective girlfriends. The black dude and the black girl are together, obviously. You know, because it's 1965. However, the latino fellow is permitted to date a blonde girl and the Asian girl is allowed to bone whomever she pleases. Obviously I am unclear on the rules of film in the 90s. In all seriousness, does no one think it's fucked up that in 1998 that they couldn't have an interracial relationship in a film? Just sayin'. I thought William Shatner solved this problem in 1968 (nerd alert).

I also have to admit that this movie is full of the kind of people that I recognize from various roles but have no fucking clue who they are. They're the kind of people who got one line in a movie that did pretty well and then maybe got two lines in a movie that did terribly. Although Tara from Buffy is in it as an extra which is kinda cool if you're a major dork.

I keep forgetting that this main character guy exists. Maybe that's because I'm an asshole, but the greatest likelihood is because nobody cares about a whiny douche.  "I'm in love with a girl I don't know anything about." Who the fuck cares? I can't believe how much nobody cares that you're in love with Jennifer Love-Hewitt. You know what? I don't even care about Jennifer Love-Hewitt in this film either. "I got dumped by the hottest guy in school and now want to date a weird dude I don't know who sent me a creepy letter." They are by far and away the least interesting part of this narrative. I hope their relationship ends in a flaming car crash before they're able to reproduce.

According to this film, unless you're one of the popular, pretty, slutty girls, you're extremely cynical, fat and and completely insane. Touche, Can't Hardly Wait.

Just a heads up, high school students: if you find yourself having a heartfelt conversation with a stripper dressed as an angel in a diner parking lot at 2am, it is time to re-think your life and maybe like... go to a good university before you fuck up everything for some broad you've never actually talked to.

I gotta say, my personal favourite part of this movie has to be that fucking Jerry O'Connell plays Trip McNeely or, "A sexual icon" as the one dude says. Seriously. This is the same guy who played the "fat" kid in Stand By Me. Who knew he would grow up to be a teen heartthrob. The other kids from Stand By Me had their careers unfold pretty naturally. Wil Wheaton grew up to play a nerd on TV and Rivers Phoenix grew up to die in a nightclub bathroom from a drug overdose.

Keep an eye out for Jason Segel if you do watch this. If you don't know who that is, then maybe don't.

Why, movies, must you represent people falling in love as them having sex. We know the characters have finally acknowledged their feelings for each other because they've done the bone dance. Good lesson for societies youths. "If you want someone to know you love them, just have drunk sex and they'll know. Also, once you kiss someone and you slide down to kiss in a horizontal position, that means you've had sex. There are no steps between kissing and sex."

Shit, hearing the song Dammit by Blink 182 does make me smile. It reminds me of a time before I knew what the difference between good and shitty music was, and that was a good time for everyone.

Holy crap, the train station get-together? Really? "I love you so much I followed you to the train" "Well, I'm moving to _______" Real life "Oh, shit. Gotta go!" Movie "I'm coming with you so we can get married and have babies."

There are definitely some parts of this movie that are genuinely funny, but only if you ignore the entire main plot. If you pay too close attention to that your brains might melt out your ears and get all over the couch and then your mom would be mad that you made such a mess.

From Hell

This week, I bring you my take on From Hell or, as a good friend once put it, "The movie where Bilbo Baggins kills everyone."

I refuse to buy Heather Graham as a 19th century prostitute. She has far too many teeth. I get that Hollywood is incapable of having a protagonist that looks less than stunningly beautiful, but I really think they could've gone so far as to give her a couple of skin blemishes or something considering she sleeps on the street semi-frequently and is, you know, a prostitute. And all this in a time when even the well-off didn't have chemical peels to fix their unsightly, imperfect faces.

Hagrid is being kind of mean to Johnny Depp about his opium use. Does he not realise that without opium he would be unable to have his crime-solving visions?! How dare you rip him from his opium den just to show him a hooker with slashed-up lady bits. It's all extremely inconsiderate.

 There's this scene here where Jack the Ripper is getting ready to go out and do some ripping, but first he has himself a nice dinner. He is eating rare steak and drinking red wine and it's all very epic. Everyone knows that all sociopaths eat red, bloody meat and that sane, non-murdering folk eat their steaks well done and only drink water. You hear that? Ever eaten a steak anything less than medium-well? If you answered yes you are a sicko and I suggest you commit yourself immediately. Perhaps the fine gents in this film will help you out with a lobotomy. It is, after all, the best cure for any ailment from murderous tendencies all the way to anxiety and simple hysteria. Though, if hysteria is your problem, you should just have your doctor spray water at your crotch until you're cured. Or feed you Cornflakes.

Now, I hope you either have seen this or don't want to, because I'm about to straight up ruin this movie for everyone. Simply, I can't figure out how nobody considered this man as the killer. I mean, look at his hairdo! That is a murderer's hairdo if I've ever seen one. He might as well be wearing a pair of plastic devil horns.

You've gotta love that in film someone can just belittle a guard and they'll be like "Oh my God, please go into the office containing hundreds of confidential files completely unescorted! I'm sorry I suggested otherwise!" All he had to say was "Your boss told me to be here and he's going to be mad if you don't let me in." This is working on the same mentality as a kid who's parents have left him with a babysitter for the night. "My parents let me eat iced cream for dinner while smoking and doing intravenous drugs." Come on, now.

Has nobody told Inspector Abberline that falling for a whore is just about the worst idea possible? Didn't they teach that in school in the 1800s? Perhaps not. However, it is definitely inadvisable. Especially if her hair is a mysteriously impossible shade of red. Chances are she is a liar, or even worse, some kind of witch. That really wouldn't be good for business. You'd have to burn her at the stake and everything. That can all be very time consuming. It also doesn't really help if there's a big stone mason conspiracy to kill and mutilate her horribly.

 Now, another thing that deserves recognition, here, is the pair of muttonchops on this motherfucker. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why those ever went out of style. I call to you, all males with the ability to grow actual facial hair to bring back the mutton chop. If you all do it, you won't be weirdos. "But no woman would want me." you say? At first, this may be true. But eventually, the women will flock to those big clumps of hair on either side of your face. They're manly and rugged. They're like balls that you won't get arrested for displaying. Go forth and mutton chop!

So what this movie is trying to teach me is that if I do opium I can solve crimes? Essentially, it seems to me that if I were to start hanging out in opium dens, I could be kind of like a Victorian Batman. At least that's how it worked for Johnny Depp. I wonder where I could find an opium den in Canada in 2010. I suspect it would be a bit of a search. Especially since I refuse to go unless it's run by a man with a Fu Manchu.

Near the end, here, The Ripper cuts out a woman's heart and puts it in a kettle over the fire. I suppose he wanted a spot of tea before he went home to wash the gallons of blood off his person.

Well, the beloved Heather Graham has run off to live in the hills of Scotland with the child she borrowed from a lobotomized broad. I still think she was cooler when she was topless and rollerskating.

Overall, this movie's worth watching if you're into opium and lobotomies.

Never Been Kissed

Had a couple bourbons and the women's station was playing Never Been Kissed. Obviously, this is the opportunity a blogger like myself can only dream about. (Grammar bitches: I ended my sentence with a preposition. Deal with it.)

I thoroughly enjoy how cliché Drew Barrymore and John Cusack... wait wait... David Arquette's characters are. The lame girl who grows up to be successful and the popular kid who ends up working in some shithole and living in his parents' basement. Please note: "grows up" is defined as being 23 and 25. "Josie, I can't go to College, I'm too old." That's a good lesson for youth today. If you're 23, it's too late to make something of yourself. Just give up.

I also love the fact that Drew Barrymore just fits right into a high school age-wise. I'll tell you why it works so well: it's not because she looks particularly young, but because everyone else is also in their mid- to late twenties; as is the custom for all adolescent movies. The 'sexy' teacher looks the same age (if not even slightly younger) than the students. I genuinely fear the day when kids in high school movies actually look as young as real life high school students to me. I feel this will be the day I will know I am truly old.

Whoa whoa whoa, hold the phone (I'm bringing that back). The nerdy, loser girl has glasses and baggy, unflattering clothing? This has certainly never happened in any film prior to this. Let's get her in a tight dress (or... perhaps... unitard?) and throw those glasses in a trash bin and surprise: she's pretty!

Tell me something: in high school, did you ever fall in love with someone who you knew nothing about other than the fact that they were dicks to everyone? Even if they were... like... the hottest person you've ever seen? I can tell you right fucking now that I did not. Who gives a shit if someone is good looking and popular if they're boring as hell? Please. Give me some insight on this. Besides, I bet these popular, boring assholes are shit in bed, too. Since they're boring and also incredibly selfish. "I banged the hottest guy last night!" "Oh my God, that's awesome. How was it?" "The worst."

Which brings us to this "Guy" individual. This asshole is the epitome is a lame high school movie boy. He looks like he's straight out of a bad goth band (there are good goth bands?). Seriously, no man should wear so many v-necks. This shithole is showing more cleavage than half the women. I suspect he has a vagina. "Popular male" in this film seems to be defined by styled hair and a necklace. Should they not have at least one redeeming quality? I do not see the appeal of these necklace-wearing, floppy-haired jerks.

Back to our protagonist. This dork finds herself "accidentally" eating a weed brownie. I'm pretty sure that getting stoned and making an ass of yourself is not the best means of making the cool kids like you. Also, weed doesn't make you want to jump on stage and do an Elaine-style dance. It makes you want to play Zelda in the dark while eating leftover meatloaf.

When I first started watching this movie, I thought to myself  "Even Drew Barrymore all uglied up can't be unattractive enough to never be kissed." Yeah, I'm beginning to think that's not totally true. Her problem is not her face/clothes/hair. It's her personality. She's a know-it-all who corrects peoples' grammar at every turn. Although, I do genuinely believe there was a chance she could've found someone just as douchey as herself in some university study group or some crap like that and they could've had wild, disgusting, nerdy sex. Likely involving both a Boba Fett and a Slave Leia costume. I will leave it up to you to decipher who is wearing which one.

I cannot, emotionally, deal with the clothing choices for this film. Please tell me what school would allow a girl to wear what is essentially a bikini top as a shirt to school, but also has a metal detector. Oooh, right, I know! A poorly written one.

Also, this whole malarkey with her and her teacher flirting. Yes, we know it's acceptable because they're both adults, but he doesn't know that. Please do not give me some crap about how he can sense her being older. As far as he is concerned, she's 17 and he's a creep. End of story.

I can't really bring myself to believe that there is any prom where people take the theme seriously enough to dress in ludicrous costumes. As a girl, I feel the need to say: this is prom, not fucking Halloween. These girls are going to want to wear over-the-top and gorgeous dresses, not a fucking pregnant Virgin Mary costume. No self-respecting girl would be seen at a prom with a date wearing a turtle costume. Even if he is in 2gether.

I will admit that some of the sap in this movie did work on me. Cynicism aside, one can't help but empathize with this poor bitch. Faking going to high school really can be tough until you get kissed by your pedo teacher in the middle of a baseball field.

300

Any movie that begins with a man in a diaper-looking thing and ritual animal slaughter deserves recognition.

I think that considering the climate of these opening scenes, it would be wise for these fellows to attire themselves a bit more. Sure, this one guy is wearing the pelt of whatever that fucking mountain lion/wolf thing was that he just killed, but other than that he's not wearing anything but some kind of primitive Speedo. This strikes me as an inefficient method of maintaining warmth.

Don't get me wrong, as a heterosexual woman, I appreciate a man with a nice body. On the other hand, I find the number of half CGI and half makeup abs in this film borderline terrifying. I also feel like wearing some undies and a cape might not be the wisest for battle. Like, wouldn't that facilitate being pierced by a spear or sword or whatever the fuck? Especially in a time where the medical care was so minimal that a scratch could result in death by infection. "Well, he didn't STAB me, but his sword touched my bare chest and now I'm dying of sepsis. Shit happens." Make some fucking leather chest-covers you ass trees. I will accept neither ignorance nor pride as excuses.

It seems to me that, in this film in general, pride is taken over practicality, "Do you want to wear ox skulls on our heads? We won't be able to see, but we will look fucking BAD ASS. We'll probably die." "Yep. Let's do that for sure." or "I plan to wear a helmet, shin and wrist guards, but I plan on leaving all my fleshy bits that contain my vital organs completely exposed." "Well, obviously. How else would we know you're manly and intense?"

Before I started watching this, I assumed "THIS IS SPARTA!" would be waaaaaaay in there somewhere. 14 minutes in and I've already seen it. Should I stop watching now? I won't just so I can finish the review. The things I do for you people. I do, however, really enjoy that he yelled that and then kicked a man into an apparently bottomless pit. You know, one that he just has in his city and that everyone walks by on a regular day. Thanks for keeping your citizens safe, king.

I know Gerard Butler is a Scot, but (correct me if I'm wrong, here.) King Leonidas was not. I think he was a Greek. Right? So why does the "THIS IS SPARTA" ring so heavily of "They may tak our lieves but they may never tak OUR FREEDOM!!!" (For a bonus laugh, please read the description of that video)? I'm not expecting the man to speak in Ancient Greek, but when he rolls his R's I just - holy shit he's naked.

"I'm sitting next to you in the nude watching you sleep." Fair enough, Gerard Butler. I guess in ancient Greece that wasn't weird since this broad seems to be down with it. Oh, she's your wife? Okay, so now it's time for a slo-mo, black-and-white, awkwardly-edited sex scene involving a wind machine. I guess everyone had a wind machine back then to make their sex seem more epic. Though I imagine they were slave-powered.

I feel that it is now time for me to address King Leonidas's... whatever the fuck you call it... rat tail... thing. The man has a tiny braid at the back of his hair. It appears to wrap around the entirety of his head like a combination awkward rat rail and headband. In most lighting, it just looks like he is a Padawan. And here I was thinking that rat rails were only acceptable in the early 1990s. According to this film it was also acceptable in the 480s BC (Before Coiffure).

Speaking of ugly, we have this Ephialtes individual who looks like a very unfortunate pairing of Quasimodo and Gollum. The poor asshole is like "I know I am hideous and everyone hates me, but I want to join you in battle regardless. It can't help to have one more guy, right?" and Gerard Butler is basically like "Go fuck yourself, cripple". Nice. For me, though, I am imagining the casting of this particular fellow. He's heard about 300 and is super excited to go out for the role since he knows they're only hiring extremely good-looking male actors. He gets a call-back and is thrilled. "You're going to be a secondary character" they tell him. Everything is coming up roses for this poor bastard and all of a sudden: "Oh, by the way, you're playing the pathetic, deformed hunchback who isn't even good enough to die in battle." At that point do you just call your parents and say you didn't get the part? Or do you make up some bullshit about how it requires lots of acting talent to make up for the fact that you're unrecognizable and you don't get your own set of CGI abs. I would select the third option: quit acting and get a real job.

I'm curious, during this time period and in this town, were women and children only allowed to wear whatever they could tie together from some rags and maybe a belt? The women look like they're at a sorority toga party (Only one where everyone's rolled in the dirt beforehand) and the children look like tiny sumo wrestlers (who have similarly rolled in dirt).

Isn't this supposed to be a real battle? Like one that took place in life? Why are they fighting terrifying giant-type creatures? Also, what is this obese creature with the scythes for arms and the nipples rings (other than the star of my nightmares, of course)? I have stopped assuming this is supposed to be remotely realistic as I have seen a goat-man.

I don't totally comprehend the politics taking place in this courtroom scene, but I do know one thing: stabbing a man in front of a jury of your peers in current times is grounds for some pretty serious penalties. In this film, there is a chant of "traitor" which I think is the current equivalent of "You are a poo-poo head".

I also can't get over how white all their teeth are. Perhaps this is something petty to notice, but I am SURE that in 480 BC they didn't have our current standards for teeth whitening. Or like... toothbrushes. Leonidas clearly has veneers. This is an outrage.

It seems to me I might've missed out on some major plot points, but overall this movie is entertaining if you are either female or not susceptible to body-image inferiority.

Pulp Fiction

I don't know why I picked this movie. Writing a review about it scares the ever-loving shit about me. It is such a well-loved film that if I say anything negative about it, I feel I might be crucified. Fuck, I might crucify myself if I give it a shitty review. Please don't hate me.

So after the intro with the English guy who screams a lot in Reservoir Dogs, we've got the song that used to be good before it was anally raped by the Black Eyed Peas. (I originally typed "anally rapped" and considered leaving it since it works surprisingly well). "Which one?" you say? Who the fuck cares?

This bullshit about being able to order a beer in McDonalds is actually completely true, by the way. You can get a beer in the drive-thru and (if someone else is driving) you can drink that motherfucker right in the car. I would feel like a criminal the whole way home. Also, I think if you consumed a meal like that, your liver would straight-up punch you in the face. "What is this, you fucking asshole? Liquor and your entire daily intake of fat and salt? You're a piece of shit, you know that? I am totally going to give you cirrhosis. Suck my fucking liver dick." Yeesh, your liver has anger management problems.

According to this film, shooting heroin and driving makes you feel like you're in a movie from the 1950s. And although I cannot confirm from experience whether or not that is true, I suspect it is not.

I don't know about you, but I would totally go to Jackrabbit Slims if it were real. That place sounds fucking amazing. Especially if Steve Buscemi were both Buddy Holly and the waiter. Five dollar milkshakes be damned. 16 years later, you'd be hard pressed to find a reasonably sized milkshake for under $5. I also enjoy the fact that Vincent just spent a grand on heroin and is freaking out about spending five bones on a milkshake. Addictions and shit, I guess.

Okay, Uma Thurman, I know you're addicted to cocaine, but is snorting a white powdered substance you find in someone else's pocket really a good idea? That's kind of a dick move, for one. I'll admit I'm not an expert on the rules of the cocaine culture, but I think it is a rather serious faux-pas to take someone's stash out of their coat pocket and snort a big, fat line of it. For another, I know it looks very similar, especially because the dealer was out of balloons or whatever the fuck the usual procedure is, but unless it's got a motherfucking "THIS IS COCAINE" label on it, you may want to reconsider shoving a shitload of it up your nose. Just a thought.

On to Bruce Willis' watch: I can't help but ask a few questions about the logistics of a watch spending 7 years in someone's rectum. Did they wrap it in something? It would seem to me that they wouldn't have access to something like condoms and therefore would likely have had to shove it in bareback. If so, I don't understand how it survived this. I don't think waterproof watches existed at that point. How did they clean it afterward? Would it not have been caked in shit? And, for some reason, the question that nags me the most: did these men shit out a watch every time they had to take a dump just to have to shove it right back in there afterward? This sounds like one of the circles of hell, to me. Besides all that, would you wear a watch that spent 2 years in Christopher Walken's ass? I think this is a question that every person must ask themselves at least once in their lives.

Quentin Tarantino, I think you need to cool it with the N word. We knooooow you're trying to be all realistic and whatever the fuck, but I'm not sure it is appropriate for you to be using that word. Not only are you not of African descent, but I'm not even sure you're human. I have a bad feeling that you're really just a cartoon drawing of a crescent moon (seriously, look up cartoon drawings of crescent moons and you will note that they all look remarkably like Quentin Tarantino).

Good lord, Vincent, for a film criminal, you sure do have bad luck. First, the boss' wife ODs on your fucking heroin, second, you accidentally shoot a motherfucker in the face, third, you get held up at gunpoint while having breakfast and whilst wearing a ludicrous outfit and finally, you get your ass shot to death after taking a shit in Bruce Willis' apartment. I would suggest you get your shit together, but at the end of this story, you're too busy bleeding from your chest wounds to worry about that.

This last scene just makes me think how totally confused and annoyed I would be at Jules for not fucking saving everyone if I were one of those restaurant patrons. He totally could have, but he's like being all religiously enlightened and shit. He's like "I can't give you this case because it's not mine" and those wallets in the bag, they're yours? Dick.

God dammit, I'm tired and this movie just makes me want to go for breakfast. I sure could go for some swine.

Goodnight Pumpkins and Honey Bunnies respectively.

Side note: WHY is this the 3rd movie out of 4 that I've reviewed that has a disgusting ponytail?! This is getting out of control! Obviously there weren't any in the Lion King because they were on the motherfucking savannah and, you know, don't have thumbs. Outrageous. Vincent Vega, cut your hair.

Anaconda

This gem, straight outta '97, combines my love of giant snakes and bad acting.

Just the opening credits of this mess are hilarious. Owen Wilson? Jennifer Lopez? Fucking ICE CUBE? Holy shit, is this the dude who plays Machete?! IMDB has let me know that oh my, yes it is. Whatever, he didn't even survive the credits.

Jennifer Lopez is some kind of hunter or scientist or some shit. There's also some other skank who's with Owen Wilson who wears tiny shorts and a button up shirt that's tied in the middle like every 90s sex symbol. You can always see her bra. "Is it just me or does the jungle make you really, really horny?" - Direct quote from Owen Wilson's character to hers. Yeah, they'll be lasting long. Horror film rules say he and his slutty broad bite it first; probably whilst banging in some secluded area. Well, either them or Ice Cube. Nothing carries a death sentence in a bad thriller like expressing your interest in orgasms or being an ethnic minority.

There's this dude in the beginning who's trying to bang J-Lo and somehow he bags her by talking about the mating rituals of fireflies. Yep. That's it for me. Flashing insect butts get me hot every time. I'm surprised they don't make pornos about bioluminesence.

Please prepare yourself for Jon Voight's character. He may have begotten Angelina Jolie, but his unidentifiable, South American accent leaves MUCH to be desired. Portuguese? Spanish? Nobody knows. Either way: bad. It is also important to note that he has a disgusting ponytail.

Don't watch this movie unless you're into cliched and poorly-written horror film characters.
The strong, female lead: "I am tough, sexy, and also know science."
The snooty British guy: "I've brought expensive wine on a boat that has such minimal facilities that I have to defecate in a bucket"
The sexy couple: "We serve little more purpose than to make sex jokes and die spectacularly"
The helpful older guy who turns out to be evil: "Hey guys, I know lots about the jungle. On an unrelated note, I'll totally kill you to make some money." Important to note: must be killed 30-40 times for death to be achieved.
The cool, black dude: "Aaww hell no, I ain't getting eaten by some snake" Unfortunately, sir, the likelihood is that you will.
The guy everyone forgot about until he saves the day: "Hey! I'm alive! Remember me? No? Oh..."

Also, don't watch it if you have an issue with dead monkeys.

I realise it was 13 years ago, but did they really make this movie seriously? "Okay okay, I've got an idea. We'll get a bunch of D-list actors and a couple of music stars and put them on a boat in the amazon where they're going to get eaten by a giant snake." "Dude, why didn't I think of that?!" Because it's retarded. Side note: if it were a reality show, I think I'd watch it. Can we make that happen somehow?

The dialogue, acting and special effects are out-of-control ridiculous. There is actually a scene that includes a CGI Anaconda that's on fire and still trying to eat people. Don't you think writhing in pain would be a priority over satiating its hunger? I don't know about you, but nothing curbs my appetite quite like being lit on fire.

This movie sucks. I wouldn't recommend watching it unless you're very intoxicated. Or stupid. Stupid works too.

The Lion King

Okay, okay, first off I want to say that I have seen The Lion King an unreasonable number of times since it came out when I was 6. In no way do I dislike this film. However, it's always fun to observe in-discrepancies, even in your favourite things.

From the get-go, I think we need to observe the fact that one of the most beloved characters in this film is a baboon. Baboons, in case you're not aware, are fucking TERRIFYING (Don't believe me? Check here). Through no amount of cartoonification can I be convinced that Rafiki is going to do anything other than rip my face off with his terrifyingly large canine teeth and then perhaps rub his big gross butt on me. In the film, they made it a nice, non-offensive blue-ish colour. In reality, a baboon's butt is not only a frightening shade of bright red, but also disgustingly lumpy and weird. (Look!)

The version I have has a new song added to it called "The Morning Report" which replaced the scene where Simba pounces on Zazu. This new addition straight up sucks for a number of reason. For one, the song isn't even good and is only like 30 seconds long. For another, the original scene was better because it showed a major bonding moment between Simba and Mufasa as he taught him how to hunt. In its place is a bizarre attempt to cut together various parts without having to bring the original voice actors back in.

Moving on, can we address that Simba and Nala are in an arranged marriage? Sure, it works out in the end because they fall in love or whatever, but what if it hadn't? What the fuck are we teaching children? "Okay, so maybe you don't love this guy, but you should marry him anyway because he's going to be the freaking king." Okay, maybe that IS a good lesson for young girls. I'm sure she could find herself a manstress on the side.

As a young child I thought to myself "How does Zazu know that the Rhino sitting on him is female?" The answer has become perfectly clear to me and the only response I can muster is "Ew."

Watching this film through adult eyes is a very strange thing. You realize that in one scene, Mr.Bean is preventing Randy Taylor from being eaten by Cheech and Guinan.

All the lions have these well-thought-out African names. In fact, I think "Simba" means "Lion" in Swahili and "Mufasa" means "king". Scar, on the other hand, has a very poorly-written Bond-villain-esque name that seems to have come directly out of exhaustion. "Fuck this, I am too tired to think of a good name for this character. Let's draw a scar on his face and name him Scar." Also, how did he end up so lanky? They chalk it up to him missing out on the "brute strength" gene. In real life, however, this probably means he's underfed. I like to think it is as a result of him being rude to the huntresses and them being like "Fuck you, dick, you can't have any of the zebra carcass."

Now, we ALL love Timon and Pumba, but the fact remains that no matter how you slice it, Timon is kind of a dick. He takes credit for Pumba's ideas and tells him that he's stupid and smelly all the time. That's really not a healthy relationship by any means. Hey kids! Do you want to be like one of your favourite film characters? Just undermine your overweight friend until they submit to you and you'll be able to ride them everywhere! and all this is even if we disregard my feelings on the topic of subjecting children to bad puns.

I really can't get into how many insects and grubs a lion cub would have to eat on a daily basis in order to reach a healthy level of protein and taurine, but I'm only 20% serious about that. What I AM serious about is the fact that Johnathan Taylor Thomas grew up to be fucking Ferris Bueller. This frightens me.

On to the "Can You Feel The Love Tonight?" scene: I know you guys haven't seen each other in a long time and were childhood friends or whatever. And yes, I get that you're falling in love, but aren't your people in another land slowly dying of starvation? Is this REALLY the ideal time to be flirting and throwing yourselves into ponds on ropes? Come on!

This part where Rafiki shows up to show Simba the error of his ways reminds me of something. A young guy meets an eccentric old dude in a jungle area and the old man shows him his true potential and that his father isn't really dead after all - in some way or another. (Oh, and his father is voiced by James Earle Jones). I get the feeling we're suddenly in the Dagobah System.

So when he sees his father's ghost or whatever the fuck, he is like "Look, Simba, I know you're happy in your perfect paradise life, but you're going to have to deal with the fact that isn't good enough. Go fucking get your shit together and be king, otherwise you don't love me." Seriously. Mufasa essentially tells him that if he doesn't go be king, he has forgotten his father. Pretty intense shit. I mean, I guess some lives are in the balance or whatever, but don't you think his dad would want him to be happy? Not when his dad is secretly Darth Vader and also the dude who says "If you build it, they will come." While we're on that subject, how did the father have such a deep, intense voice and the son gets stuck with Matthew Broderick's pubescent squeal? Simba's mother has a deeper voice than him. Maybe it's all the grubs.

I don't have much else to say except that you should check out the slo-mo fight between Simba and Scar. It gets pretty comical, there, for a moment or two "Aaah! You lion pawed me in the face!" "I am leaping through flames to defeat you"

Lessons learned: Don't fuck with the king of the lions, even if you think he's dead; don't fuck with the king of the lions even if you know he's dead, because he'll help somehow; make friends with baboons because they won't murder you, but will, instead, be very friendly and can fight like Bruce Lee.

Chocolat

I found myself watching Chocolat because it was the most interesting thing on at 1am on a Friday night when all my friends are busy. I thought "Oh hey, I'm a chick and I'm drunk, this movie should be entertaining enough." The cover lead me to believe that Johnny Depp would be a prominent feature.

This movie disappointed in ways I was unprepared for. Mostly, this film is about a deeply religious, very set-in-its-ways French village in what I think is supposed to be the 1950s. Seriously, though, who the fuck knows? I mean, it's France. Those guys are like "What? It's been more than 20 minutes since the revolution? Ca ne me interesse pas."

For some reason, even though I know it's the only way they can make a film about France and release it in America, the France-esque setting mixed with a group of people speaking in American (and, for good measure a few English) accents is infuriating. I think this one broad is some kind of Eastern European. They like to throw in random French words to seem like it makes sense, but it really fucking doesn't. This film has the odd feeling of being dubbed from French without actually having been dubbed.

Anyway, I was like "Oh hey, at least Johnny Depp is in this, even if the plot sucks big, pseudo-French dick, there should be some eye candy or some such shit."| Uhhh... no. He doesn't show up until past the half-way mark, and when he does he is a classical-guitar playing vagabond with a ponytail. Yaaaaaaaay. and by "Yay" I mean "Ew, please shower and get a fucking haircut you disgusting beast"

Of course, far before that, the viewer has to deal with all kinds of various bullshit. You get your tired fish-out-of-water story when some bitch who saunters around Europe with her daughter born out of wedlock turn up in a super-religious town. We are all very surprised when she wins everyone - even the most disgruntled old woman - over with her delicious fucking chocolates. Oh, and by the way, that old woman has diabetes. Obviously she likes the chocolate-slinger, since she's the only one in town who will give her sugar.

Our beloved main character bitch who peddles chocolate also takes in a woman who's husband is abusing her (Her husband being portrayed by one of the Nihilists from The Big Lebowski) who miraculously starts to wear makeup after she's rescued.

Blah, blah, motherfucking blah, Johnny Depp and his band of gypsies turn up on a big boat and the big crew of haters in this town obviously start hating on them and being like "Heeey, you're different, please leave".

I haven't finished it yet, but my guess is that chocolate broad wins over all their hearts and minds with chocolate and maybe some bullshit speech about how all humans are created equal, whether they're sluts, chocolatiers or dirty dudes with ponytails.

Finished the film. Diabetes lady dies and ponytailz gets his boat lit on fire. Overcoming adversity is as easy as melting a pot of fucking refined cocoa beans. They did manage to forgo the big, preachy speech, but instead we we're handed something even more horrifying. One of the last scenes in this film shows the antagonist trashing the chocolate shop and accidentally getting a small piece in his mouth. He tastes how delicious it is, falls in love and starts rolling in the chocolate. I almost wish I were joking.

Moral of the story: Haters gonna hate, but give them chocolate and they might stop hating after they light your boat on fire even if they're nihilists.