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.