Body of Lies

Russellardo DiCapricrowe stars as a CIA superspy and his boss, respectively. This an Important political-flavored action thriller set in the Middle East in nations so underdeveloped they don’t even have camera tripods. Basically this movie is like an overlong episode of 24 minus all the unapologetic Patriotism that makes that show awesome and easy to understand. Body of Lies was probably produced by the Obama campaign to help America transition from the “Yeah, war can be shitty sometimes but hey this espionage stuff sure is fun ain’t it!” mentality of beer-bellied CIA desk jockeys to the whiny bleeding heart histrionics you usually hear from scrappy young field agents who think they’re wise beyond their years just because they grew a goatee and survived a few explosions.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I didn’t really understand this movie. Russellardo are looking for some terrorist guy and bringing him down is not going to be easy. They’re going to have to navigate through a whole bunch of lies. A body of lies, if you will. This movie was okay, but there were so many missed opportunities to kick it up to the next level. I wish Iron Man stopped by for a cameo during that bunker scene. Why couldn’t James Bond join in for a bit and lend a helping hand? And finally, in a movie in which Russell Crowe spends 90% of his screen time talking on the phone, at least one of those calls should have had Al Pacino on the other end, yelling at Crowe, telling him that he fought for him and he’s still fighting for him. Real shit, though, here are some cool things I learned from Body of Lies:

- Trust no one. Deceive everyone.
- You can’t run an operation when someone else is running a side operation.
- If you can make it look like anything, you should probably make it look like everything.

Also, what is this stuff about Russell Crowe gaining weight for his roles? “Headline: Russell Crowe fattens up to play a pudgy tobacco company scientist! Russell Crowe lets himself go to play a pudgy CIA agent! Russell Crowe packs on the pounds to play a pudgy newspaper reporter!” I’m beginning to suspect that Russell Crowe is just plain pudgy. And that’s fine. Plus, his role in LA Confidential gets him a lifetime pass. At this point though he’s probably got it in his contract that he only plays characters with love handles.

“Russell, it’s your agent. How’d you like to play, get this, a bank robber…”
“Eh.”
“Okay, okay. What about… a pudgy bank robber?”
“I’m listening…”

But really though, props to Ridley Scott and all the others who made this movie happen. It was pretty okay. After Blood Diamond, The 11th Hour, and this, I can’t wait for Leonardo DiCaprio’s next potshot at international corruption and American indifference.

The Spirit

If it seems like I’m in a bad mood, I am. Because I watched Body of Lies back to back with The Spirit. Yeah, I know I’m late to this party but goddamn that is one of the dumbest fucking movies I’ve ever seen. Good gosh. If you think that based on all twitters, blogs, and possibly even vlogs you saw about this movie, you know what kind of awfulness to expect from The Spirit-trust me you are wrong. It is that bad and more so. But the sad thing is that for all its spectacular stupidity, at the end of the day it’s really 49% fun bad and 51% bad bad. And that’s too bad.

Things were looking pretty dire. With the economy in ruins and little help on the way, I lay awake at night thinking of how I could pay my rent. I could see the end of my university position fast approaching with summer almost here, and with fewer kids enrolling in SAT and MCAT prep courses, my second job was going the way of my first. As I sat up at 4am and reached for that Newcastle to soothe my nerves, I turned on the tv and stood there staring at nothing in particular.

Well it’s a good thing I did. In fact, I’m sure millions of disgruntled, out of work blue collar stiffs would tell you the same thing. No, we didn’t witness our patriotic brethren’s proud Tea Parties and share a moment of solidarity, or catch the tail end of a choice Glenn Beck one liner. What we were privy to was the invocation of an ancient maritime writ. We were witness to a former presidential candidate - that is, a man who potentially could have run the most powerful country in the world - frankly and without irony propose that letters of marque be issued to combat Somali pirates.

Now, I’m not going to pretend to know what it’s like to live in a nation that has no government or food, so I will refrain from moral judgments regarding the ethics of African piracy. What I would like to examine is the efficacy of combating it.

In terms of projected success, Ron Paul’s proposal that the United States government issue letters of marque is probably somewhere around Chuck Norris’ chances of forcing Texas to secede from the Union. When letters of marque were last issued, in the War of 1812, the average speed of an ocean-going vessel was approximately 6 knots - if there was a strong trade wind. This made privateers formidable opponents for would be pirates and captains of foreign navies. Their swift sloops and brigs could navigate the shallow coastal waters where their lumbering prey drifted along. And since money was real in 1812, they were assured a sizable bounty from the sale of the captured ship and the booty it was carrying.

Last week a crew of Somali pirates armed with rocket propelled grenades and automatic machine guns drove a fifteen foot inflatable craft at 35 miles per hour into the path of an 1,500 ft long oil tanker, seizing it with little difficulty. By the time a United States Navy destroyer arrived with air support, the attackers were already gone, leaving a skeleton crew to watch their captives.

According to Ron Paul, this could have been prevented if the Brothers Sixpack had driven their fishing boat from Ft. Lauderdale to the Somali coast in time to intercept the raiders - an interesting proposition considering the average range of an American offshore fishing boat is 200 miles and the distance from the nearest U.S. port to Somalia is 8,500 miles.

The average Somali pirate is armed with modern weapons , fueled by a hatred of neocolonial policies, and depends on taking your ship to pay bills. Since few Somalians own enough food to survive the week, he literally has nothing to lose. The average American has a family, a mortgage, and an employer who is unlikely to grant a two year leave of absence due to his swashbuckling ambitions. This reduces the pool of qualified privateers to single, unemployed Americans who have forgone essentials like food and clothing to maintain their boats.

In the remote case that two brave Minutemen were to leave their Tea Party, ply the Atlantic, and end up off the coast of Mombassa, their chances of catching a pirate are less than great. There are thousands of square miles of ocean in the currently designated pirate danger zone. Mathematically, one’s chances of using Sears binoculars and CB radios to spot a ten foot inflatable craft moving at extraordinary speeds are roughly as good as those of spotting a Pokemon. With its billion dollar budget and considerable technological advantage, the United States Navy has succeeded in capturing only one pirate out of the hundreds who daily attack. It only took a fifteen million dollar operation involving Navy Seals, satellite imagery, and a US navy warship operated by six hundred sailors - resources easily available to the average American-turned-privateer.

Real people who have real college degrees and who represent real states are debating issuing letters of marque as I write. I cannot afford to see a doctor if I get sick and my congressman is putting on his reading glasses to note the finer points of a three hundred page memo on keeping African waters safe through the employment of people who got laid off and happen to own a boat full of guns. If Fox News hasn’t been stoking the flames of this country’s not so dormant right wing nut base long enough, letters of marque are the frightening carte blanche our noble protectors have demanded for decades.

Picture, if you will, a flotilla of patched-together skiffs and rickety tugs leaving Cap Cod for a distant shore. Three dozen brave ships driven by disgruntled lobstermen and fueled by hard-earned-grade-A Iraqi petroleum, the Second Amendment, and a case of Bud Lite sailing to the Somali main. If that doesn’t make you feel safe then you probably voted for Obama.

I know ManPants has traditionally been a serious and substantive forum for cinema discourse so forgive me for introducing the indecent topic of actors or actresses who you’d have sex with. You know, the ones that you’d sleep with if you ever had a shot in real life, and your significant other would have to forgive you because they know they’d do the same (i.e. given the chance to have sex with Adam Sandler, it technically wouldn’t be cheating). It’s actually a pretty serious list that requires careful consideration and meticulous mathematics (degree of attraction versus likelihood of actual encounter) if you want to maximize your chances of ever getting laid by a celebrity while under immunity. [Side note: I’d wager that I could name at least one actress on Mark and Peter’s top 3, and everyone on Mike’s list]. My own fluctuates a bit but David Duchovny’s name is always included, which I consider a pretty safe bet since finding out that he’s a sex addict.

Recently, though, I was compiling another kind of list, consisting of the actors that I’d cast as members of my fictitious family. There are a couple of natural choices. Mostly they’re actors who’ve been around long enough that they feel really familiar; people who I grew up watching and who have starred in at least a couple of childhood favorites. My movie-mom, for instance would probably be someone like Angelica Houston (macabre, modern gothic Mom); or Catherine O’Hara (strict and forgetful but ultimately loving Mom). And as for my movie-dad, the only acceptable choice is Harrison Ford (academic adventurer Dad). I would also have the most amazing grandfathers played by Donald Sutherland (Kurt Vonnegut look-a-like Grandpa) and Michael Caine (direct but kind-hearted British Grandpa). There are considerably more contenders for the roles of various uncles. Sort of like real uncles, these are actors who I liked a lot as a kid but then I grew up and realized that living in your parents’ basement and still believing your band is going to make it someday isn’t that cool. This list includes actors like Val Kilmer (Willow, Batman), Kurt Russell (Captain Ron, Stargate), Michael Keaton (Batman, Beetle Juice), and Bill Pullman (Casper, Independence Day). For the most part they’re not great actors, they don’t choose great roles, and they’re easy to joke about, but I can’t help feeling a lingering fondness. I suppose for a certain set these names still sell movies, but for me they’ll always be those old uncles who I don’t often think about and only see on special occasions when they pop up to ask how things are going and what I plan to do with my life. I guess it must be about family reunion time because three of those peripheral actors are starring in upcoming films. 

Merry Gentleman starring Michael Keaton: When I read the synopsis before viewing the trailer, I almost decided to skip it. My most recent memories of Michael Keaton involve a possessed snow man and a clone-run pizza parlor, so I was not expecting great things. In fact, the only reason I did watch it is because it takes place in Chicago, and apparently I suffer from some kind of geographical narcissism. Anyway, it turned out looking not as horrible as I expected, which is not to say good. Keaton plays a loner hit man who meets and presumably develops feelings for a young woman, played by Kelly Macdonald, who recently escaped from an abusive relationship. Expected outcome: man learns to care, woman learns to trust, unfortunately man kills people for a living and happy ending is thwarted by U.S. justice system. I’m just guessing here. Or maybe they can conveniently pin the murdering on the abusive ex-boyfriend, wouldn’t that be grand! Things I like about this movie are Chicago and Kelly Macdonald (the voice of an angel that one has). The thing I don’t like about this movie is the familiar plotline, though I did read that it is well-acted and idiosyncratic enough to make the predictable story line worth watching. It’s up to you to decide whether Keaton deserves the benefit of the doubt or not, I’m still undecided.

Surveillance starring Bill Pullman: So, there’s something familiar going on with this film as well, what with the theme of the fallibility of perception and all that noise. Three different witnesses to a crime, three different accounts, whose version is accurate, yeah yeah yeah, tell it to Kurosawa. I guess what it’s got going for it is the unsettling Lynch family touch. Watching this preview makes me wonder what bedtime was like for Jennifer Lynch as a kid. I imagine David Lynch sitting at the edge of her bed telling her some horrifyingly strange story, but unlike an average child whose reaction might be fear, Jennifer listens serenely, even adding her own twisted details. At 3 years old Lynch appeared in Eraserhead, so it’s no wonder really that she took up the family business of seriously creeping people out. And knowing how the story ends, [subtle spoiler alert] I’m not too sure I want Bill Pullman as an uncle anymore.  The good news, though, is that French Stuart has finally reappeared, so there’s a contender for a weird older cousin who you try to avoid at family gatherings.  This movie is probably pretty good, but without enough liquefied pig juice for some tastes.

Pandorum starring Denis Quaid: I’m just going to apologize to Peter in advance because I know he considers this movie to be the most comment-worthy of the three films, but it’s the one of which I have the least to say. Quaid is not an actor I feel that strongly about one way or the other, though I still associate him with the likes of Keaton, Pullman, et al. That is really the only reason I’m even mentioning this movie, because aside from not having any reaction to Quaid in space, I also don’t really care about Ben Foster. Perhaps that’s because I’ve never seen 30 Days of Night. Whatever. This movie does not look interesting at all and the preview just annoys me, especially the text/voice over combination. My eyes and ears both work, there’s really no reason to include text and speech saying the exact same thing. I have an idea for an improvement: Quaid asks, “Where’s the rest of the crew?” To which Foster responds, “There’s no one here except us,” at which point Quaid and Foster stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Finally able to give into their passion, they pursue their long-anticipated romantic relationship away from the judging eyes of their fellow astronauts. They go on to lead happy, fulfilled lives in deep space. Now that would be a movie.

No, “Nougatocity” is not a real metro stop. I don’t know if this is a national phenomenon, but up here in Chicago we’ve had to deal with the latest brainchild of Snickers’ hilarious new advertising campaign. If you weren’t compelled to buy their tasty nougat-filled snacks in your local checkout line, don’t worry. You will be.

The good folks at Snickers’ urban outreach department decided that traditional advertising strategies weren’t working on the cold city people of the Midwest. They figured that if Chicagoans were not running off to loft parties to drink ironic bum drinks, they were racing through the snow to get to their miserable nine to five slogs. In short, the usual shit-brown 100×200 foot Snickers billboards that blotted out the dim winter sun needed an upgrade. They needed to stop being polite and start getting real.

Well things got very real. My first encounter with ‘extreme’ Snickers ads came last week when my perfectly nice drive was interrupted by one of these awkwardly offensive slogans. I had to read it twice - and nearly rear-ended the guy in front on me - because part of their strategy is taking obscure references and crowbarring some element of their trademark snack into it. The result goes something like this:

Yeah, I don’t get it either. On one side of this towering structure it says, “GET READY FOR A….” I was so curious that I drove around to see what Snickers could possibly be getting me ready for, only to discover it was an experimental medical procedure I had never heard of: a “HUNGERECTOMY” Think about this for a moment. Think about what must have transpired in the Snickers boardroom for this one to get the green light.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary there are over 171,475 words in the English language that Snickers could have chosen to modify besides “hysterectomy.” It was not inevitable that snickers choose to associate the image of a doctor in bloody scrubs ripping out a woman’s uterus with a tasty chocolate treat. “Holocausterrific” and “NougatLutherKing” make just as much sense as “Hungerectomy” and offend a much wider audience.

Also, taking a subtle chapter from John McCain’s electoral campaign, the good people of Snickers have converted a greyhound bus into a mobile “HUNGERECTOMY” station. It’s not hard to picture Howard Stern and the guys from BangBus behind the wheel. Mmm. I know I’m hungry.

Things don’t stop here either. Snickers’ new extreme approach has reached out to every pop culture reference it can find. Thug life? Got it covered, because if you’re hungry for a Snickers, why not “GET SOME BLING WITH MASTER P-NUT!” Oh, I get it. Like the rapper. Thanks, Snickers. And when you’re not busy “GETTING SOME BLING” you can always “PUT YOUR HUNGER IN A NOUGAPLEX”(?) AND “NOUGATTABOUTIT.” I wish I were kidding. I wish I had cooked up a list of worthless one liners and raced my Gulfstream to AIG’s bailout party in Cabo. I wish I had been on board when Snickers hired a seventy-five year old retired man from Long Island to tell them what is hip. But I wasn’t. I wish I had signed my name on the back of a crisp ironically labeled Snickers check for one million unironic dollars. But I didn’t.

This is not a post but a cry for help. I re-watched Clue today because I love that movie and I’ve had a crush on Yvette the maid ever since I saw the movie. I did some internet surfing and this is the article I find.

http://www.variety.com/article/VR1118000533.html?categoryid=13&cs=1

Here’s a tidbit for you to look at first to see if you can handle reading the rest:

“…and “Ouija,” which is being produced by Michael Bay’s Platinum Dunes banner.”

There are far worse things in this article.

Where do I even begin?

I guess I’ll start at 10,001B.C. so you know what’s going on. In 10,001B.C. the Earth is very small. You can walk from somewhere that would have to be northern Eurasia to Cairo in a week. I know what you’re thinking, “Jon, wouldn’t that be impossible today?” Well, in 2009A.D. it would be impossible. However, in 10,001B.C. the earth was pretty much the size of Rhode Island. Also, people walked everywhere back then. According to the Dr. Grant, the people back then walked much faster than we do today; approximately 35-45MPH.

Here’s another stupid question I get from people. “Weren’t the pyramids in Cairo built around 2,500B.C. or later?” People need to stop listening to “archeologists” (the only one I acknowledge is Dr. Jones) and start watching this freaking movie again so Warner Bros. can make some damn money.

So some “Mannok” (stupid word for mammoth) hunter has dad issues and then his shorty gets taken by some guys on horses. They take the shortest route to Cairo by taking the Eurasia Trail and following it through the heart of the Africa to end up in Egypt. When they get to the Egyptians….sorry…..Desert Gods, they find pyramids being built by Mannoks and that shit just ain’t happening. Also, I learned that the best way to build a pyramid is to start at the top and work your way down.

They hear some story that I wasn’t listening to because the guy telling it looked like a cross between the Pre-Cogs in Minority Report and the guy from Mad Magazine. Blah Blah Blah something about hunters and the Pharoah or whatever is pissed about Camilla Belle’s hand. I wasn’t looking at her hands.

At this point you’re going to have to forgive me because my bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats was captivating me and I just wanted this movie to be over. Some guy shoots Camilla Belle with an arrow and kills her, but then an old woman kills herself back in Eurasia and it’s all “Screw you bro! Shorty is alive!”

The Eurasians travel back through the jungles of Africa and find Eurasia where they start harvesting plants like pros.

I’m going to call this movie 10,000F.M. for 10,000 Fucking Minutes because that’s how long this thing lasted for.

With Spring break just around the corner there’s little time to spare if you wanna be at the top of your game. These eight easy steps will get you money faster than she can make her O face. Guaranteed, bro.

FOR MEN

1. Are you disappointed because you’re fat and disgusting? Good. You should be. If Spring break’s only a few days away your options are limited. Extreme measures will be required. Start by running in oversized sweats on a hot afternoon. Then get your buddies to spot you on the military press while you blow out your delts and traps to failure. Then wash it all down with a quart of muscle milk (I like cookies and cream) and get extra diesel by shotgunning a redbull and whey power smoothie. Repeat until you’ve landed in Cabo.

2. Are you not dressed for success? Easy. Get yourself two pastel penguin polos and a pair of diesel boot cut jeans. I like white adidas for business casual and crocs if I’m tailgating. Make sure your fade or blowout is freshly washed and conditioned; use only the freshest gel and the strongest cologne.

3. Are you worried no one will think you’re funny? You should be - you’re not. But don’t sweat it. She doesn’t care if you’re funny as long as you’re telling her how much you like that ass. And I know you do.

4. Are you worried you won’t have anything to talk about? Not a problem, bud. Girls don’t talk about anything but their nails and their tans. Your job is to keep her going just long enough to call that cab and get those digits!

5. Are you too broke to afford a date? Times are tough and I feel you, bro. A shit economy means lowered expectations for everyone but girls. They’re still gonna want fancy meals and expensive shoes from you, but you don’t have to deal with it. Tell her if she wants more shit she can ask Obama and the Politburo for a handout. That’ll shut her up. And you just looked smart because you dropped a current event on her. Score!

6. Are you not the smartest guy in the room? No problemo, champ. She’s not either; no woman is as smart as a man. All you have to do is avoid big words and drawn out debates about stuff like art and music. Religion is okay as long as she puts out - NO CATHOLICS :)

7. Are you afraid that you can’t please your woman? Read the pleasure section in Maxim and watch a few good romantic comedies. Unfaithful and Sliver have a lot to teach you. Googling “how you make baby gurl scream” can be useful.

8. Can you not perform once you’ve gotten her in the sack? Science is a beautiful thing. Pop a couple viagras and wash ‘em down with some Rockstar. That should keep you at full mast until six in the mownin, playa!

Mission Accomplished would have sufficed as an alternate title.

This movie acknowledges all the criteria that makes a great movie, and then it breaks the scale by shooting it with a guitar case made into a machine gun. I have been on a mission to try and watch movies that I enjoyed a lot when I was younger to see if they stand the test of time. I’m ashamed to say that movies such as Dunstin Checks In, Home Alone 4, and 3 Ninjas at High Noon do not hold up well, while movies like Drop Dead Fred, Flight of the Navigator, and all of the Encyclopedia Brown tapes come out all aces.

Two nights ago I popped in Desperado, I remembered watching this movie on USA the first time and immediately running around in my backyard with my sister’s guitar case and pretending to blow up/shoot everything. Needless to say, I was expecting a good showing. Desperado delivered, and I would be lying if I denied acting out a few scenes when I was home with my dog.

If I had to compare this movie to something, it would have to be an extremely upscale gentlemen’s club. Not the seedy sort where you are scared to touch the door handle on the way in (see “Cafe Risque” signs on the way to Gainesville) but the upscale sort where you bring your wife and kids. Why? Because this movie went through the same thought process that created the first of such establishments. Find out what people really want to watch and then give it to them. No bullshit.

I’ll admit that it’s a crude example. I’m currently drinking out my new flask so me and Jim Beam don’t really give a shit.

I don’t think there has been a movie sense Desperado that has really hit all the high points you get from this movie. Recent movies like Shoot ‘em Up have only brushed the surface of how awesome Desperado was and still is. Here’s a crappy list of the awesomeness in Desperado.

Badass character - Antonio Banderas

Beautiful leading lady - Salma Hayek, huge crush of mine. I watched Fools Rush In originally because she was in it. Props to Edward Norton

Funny cameo - Cheech Marin shot in the head

Things that need to be blown up - Everything

Cool way to carry guns - Guitar case (one guitar case IS a gun)


Missile launcher - Guitar case that IS a missile launcher
So awesome that it spawned a shitty sequel - Some things just can’t be contained

There is an equally badass prequel to Desperado called El Mariachi. Watch it.

I’ll wrap this baby up by leaving you two facts from IMDB.

#1 For most of the killings they used a gun that essentially fired fake blood at the characters instead of squibs. This unfortunately created too realistic of an effect resulting in them having to edit out much of the deaths for the censors.

#2 Due to the film’s relatively low budget, the same two stunt men were used throughout the movie.

I rest my case.

I’d like to thank (read: blame) today’s break-neck paced, media saturated society for melting my attention span. Consequently it’s become nearly impossible for me to sit through anything longer than two minutes. Take me to the movies and I’ll happily watch the previews but become fidgety when the feature starts, leaving a few minutes into the film. Unless that film is a provocative tour de force like Twilight. Anything else and you’ll find me outside after the movie hanging out with Jason Statham, sipping Beijing cocktails in between shots of Five Hour Energy.

I watch previews a lot at home too. If I see one I like, rather than going to see it in theaters, I google the film and read the synopsis. Well ok, not the whole synopsis, just the ending. The age of LOLspeak has left me practically illiterate and besides, who wants to read when there are thousands of clips of extreme animal fights on YouTube? Recently I was inspired enough by Liam Neeson’s placidly-delivered, perfectly unruffled threat to his daughter’s kidnappers (“what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career; skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.”) to want to learn that the film ends with dear old dad arranging an audition for apparently-not-too-traumatized-to-sing-her-heart-out daughter with a famous pop-diva’s vocal coach [warning: spoiler alert]. Sounds like a feel-good film that would be great for the kids, who need to learn that following U2 on a European tour will only lead to kidnap and sexual slavery.

Here are some other previews that have caught my truncated attention lately:

Donkey Punch: This film is apparently part of a new series of films “highlighting the vanguard of genre cinema from around the globe.” It’s basically a rap video set on a yacht until one of the young ladies is killed in the “freak accident” that gives this film its title. That’s when shit gets weird, because as I’m sure we’ve all experienced, accidentally killing someone while engaging in a violent and degrading sexual practice always makes things a little tense. As part of a series of such innovative new films, the only other thing this one needs is a sharp tagline with a pun OH WAIT, THIS PARTY IS GOING OVERBOARD.

Race to Witch Mountain: This is a new Disney picture staring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, who is clearly going the way of Brendon Fraser. I don’t know what kind of long term career-planning conversations were taking place on the set of The Mummy Returns, but I hope for The Rock’s sake he switches tracks immediately before he’s consigned entirely to the realm of bloated fantasy adventure films in 3D.

New in Town: I heard this film referred to as “Legally Blonde meets Sweet Home Alabama,” which makes me wonder what Rene Zellweger thinks about being typecast as a mutant Reese Witherspoon stand-in. Like Sweet Home Alabama, New in Town belongs to the class of film that really challenges your conceptions of small town, backwoods America. “Don’t look down on people just because they’re kind of racist and hate abortion doctors,” these films seem to plead. “At least they’re not hyper-judgmental, superficial city people.” It’s a stringent lesson and one that’s best learned in the company of a rugged gentleman like Harry Connick Jr. I’m guessing that if anyone can get Zellweger’s character out of her take-me-seriously-only-as-a-fetish business suit and into a camo hunting outfit, it’s him. The underlying white vs. blue collar labor dispute deserves its own full-length review by Mark, our resident Communist sympathizer, because I’ve already spent way too long thinking about this movie.

Confessions of a Shopaholic: Speaking of apropos cinema, what better time to release a film about a recklessly extravagant, designer label obsessed young woman than in the middle of a severe recession? Don’t worry too much, though, if you are also deeply in debt because you have no conception of how credit actually works. The solution to your problems is to get a high-paying job requiring skills that you definitively don’t have. I mean, if anything’s immune to the current financial crisis it’s surely the U.S. job market. Oh, and also be really cutesy because that will help people in high positions take you seriously. My last thoughts: this movie looks way too purple; am I the only one who wishes that Sacha Baron Cohen had an equally funny wife?

The International: Like Confessions, this film about the malevolent and powerful banking institutions currently being bailed out by taxpayers makes for pretty contentious subject matter. Were you already thinking the bailout was a bad idea? How about after you learn that, in addition to making ill-advised loans, corrupt banks are using your money to fund their bloody power plays? Out of all the previews I’ve seen lately, this one comes really close to making my head explode. Not because it’s true that monolithic financial institutions are responsible for a lot of misery around the world, or that those consequences are only important when they start to fuck with the lives of white people, but because the filmmakers clearly want you think of the shoot-out inside the Guggenheim as a stroke of genius, visually-stunning action sequence. You know, not that I care about non-internet culture or anything, but was it really necessary to reduce an iconic art museum to a range? They could’ve used a parking garage and gotten the same spiraling effect. The only acceptable excuse would be a sequence of pun-filled one liners relating to the destruction of priceless works of art, made by leading man Clive “Talk about Shooting Your Load” Owen. I could get behind that. In fact, the ManPantser who comes up with the best joke wins a prize.

The Uninvited: This movie was good when it was Korean and called something else. The preview for the American remake reminds me of a collaborative film idea that Mike and I had. It involved in some way every convention ever used in horror films. If I hadn’t given up on that idea long ago I’d be pissed that this movie encroached on our idea. There is way too much stuffed into this film – a young girl troubled by the mysterious death of her mother and then actually haunted by her mother’s ghost, a family of incredibly creepy children ghosts (I wonder if the film ever explains why the children are dressed like young Jehovah’s witnesses), and a new step-mom who is apparently a sociopath and seems to be responsible for the death of Anna’s mother and the creepy kids. Then – bam! Twist ending. But the twist is just another stupid horror cliché mash-up. Think Hide and Seek meets The Sixth Sense.

That’s it for this round. I hope this review inspires you to see none of these movies.

Move over Citizen Kane and On the Waterfront, I have a new movie that is currently ranked number one on my list of classics. That movie is Push. Unfortunately, this means that the last remaining Yahoo Serious movie in my top five just lost its place. I will never forget you Young Einstein.

Push is the greatest movie that I have ever seen. The only problem I have with this movie is that it sucks. If this movie was called Mystery Men 2: Pushers then we might have an Oscar going out somewhere in the Best Film category.

One thing I like about this movie is the originality of the characters.

Characters from Push followed by where I saw them first
Screaming people who kill you with screams - Mortal Kombat 3
Telekinesis used for good - Phenomenon
Telekinesis used for evil - Carrie
Psychic powers used for good - Phenomenon
Psychic powers used for evil - Every Sci-Fi channel movie
An army of Mr. Furious look-a-likes - Ben Stiller in Mystery Men
Pushers who push thoughts into your mind - X-Files episode titled “The Pusher” (special thanks to Peter for helping me remember this one) also The Shadow
Dakota Fanning - I am Sam (She was a cute little kid)

Originality aside, this movie could have been great. If this movie wouldn’t have taken itself more seriously that Brenden Fraser when deciding how many more mummies he can kill, it could have hit that very difficult target area that Mystery Men hit dead on. I’ll say it again, this movie had everything it needed to be a great movie, it just got lazy and pulled a cinematic “fuck it.”

Should this movie have fallen into the Crank school of film? No. Crank-Push is the most highly anticipated crossover movie on my radar, but no, it didn’t need to go that far. Honestly, I don’t even know how the people on the Crank set watched dailies and didn’t shoot themselves. All Push had to do was not try to be some sort of sweeping epic about superheroes and it would have been great. I like this movie and wish it didn’t suck. I acknowledge this movie for trying, it should acknowledge that it failed.

I saw Dakota Fanning on Jay Leno and she said this movie isn’t that far-fetched. The telekinetic fist fight at the end of the movie says otherwise Dakota. The only concept in this movie that takes place in the real world is plagiarism. Shame on you Johnny Storm, I liked you better in Sunshine.

UPDATE:
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: an entertainment journalist.
What country would you most like to Visit: rome.

I have been trying to secure an interview with one of my favorite comedy writers and the link lead me to a myspace page with that written on it. I think we should bring the manpants powers together one day and do a world review.