Archive for: September, 2010

Harry Brown

Damn, what is going on in England? I feel like if I go to England I’m either going to get knifed by a gold toothed hooligan or wind up in Doctor Who’s blue police box. Where I will then be knifed by a gold toothed Doctor Who. I ain’t no Dalek, get that sonic screwdriver out of my ribcage!

Michael Caine is Harry Brown, according to the minimalist opening credits. You think we need big fonts and colors? Hell no. We got classic understated type here, y’all. Harry Brown is a pensioner (yeah, British talk!) who goes straight up vigilante on some British hooligans. They probably listen to The Streets or Lady Sovereign or Ratatat and call themselves “chavs”, according to some mp3s I downloaded in the year 2006. All I know is they sell heroin and look like Dudley from Harry Potter.

Harry Brown wants to walk through a pedestrian walkway but the street toughs hang out there all day and night terrorizing “the estate”. Man, even a description of British housing projects makes them sound like a place where the Queen just got done pouring tea out of a hollowed out bust of Winston Churchill. Speaking of elegant busts, I always thought Posh Spice was the cutest Spice Girl. I like how she ended up being posh for real. She didn’t just start singing in the Spice Girls out of her mansion, right? I think she was just a regular girl first. That’s like getting a millionaire costume and then everyone starts thinking you’re a millionaire and next thing you know you’re smoking a cigar and a stripper is doing your taxes. Thanks, Party City! Next I’m going to get a Ghostbuster costume.

Harry Brown’s elderly best friend goes down to confront the thugs with a bayonet and gets killed then they pee on him and film it all on their “mobiles”. Well, there’s your problem. Don’t take a knife to a gun fight. Don’t even show up to a gun fight. Stay at home and watch British shows like “Chesterfield Acres” or “Chimp Takes a Suitor” or “Gross Lower Class British People In Their Garish Clothing Smoking Cheap Cigarettes” or “Ricky Gervais”.

Harry Brown is all, oh I’m ex-military I thought you knew and starts killing the hoodlums. Here’s a fun game. Pretend this movie is Batman Minus Batman and Harry Brown is Alfred living in England under an assumed name. Ooh and his wife who dies at the beginning is like Catwoman or something. Which explains why her last words were meow meow meow meow. Just like Rap Cat. I once had a bet with my friend Rich that whoever lost a ping pong match had to listen to Rap Cat on repeat for a solid hour. After he lost, I got him album art for iTunes and everything. He ended up briefly being the top Rap Cat listener on Last.fm.

The fact that he is no longer the top listener means that someone out there listened to Rap Cat so much they’ve surpassed a man who played it on repeat for an entire hour. The dude who wrote Rap Cat hasn’t even heard it that many times. I bet he’s sick of Rap Cat. Waking up in the morning, the first thing he sees is Rap Cat. He sleeps with the Rap Cat puppet, I guess. Then he takes Rap Cat into the bathroom and brushes its teeth. “I hate you, Rap Cat,” he says to the Rap Cat puppet, his mouth full of toothpaste. And Rap Cat just stares back at him in the mirror, gold chain luminescent under the bathroom light.

Spoiler Alert

After killing a gang of teenagers, Harry Brown gets to use the pedestrian walkway from now on. Batman is still at large. Posh Spice remains the most attractive Spice Girl. Rap Cat is survived by his widow Mrs. Rap Cat and two kittens.

Little Monsters

Fred Savage makes friends with a horned blue-skinned monster from under his bed, played by Howie Mandel. Mandel takes Savage around his monster world playing monster baseball and ruining people’s lives and doing gross stuff. People who make entertainment for kids must think kids love anything repulsive. It’s like a children’s television executive saw a kid pick his nose once and said, “Eureka! Kids are disgusting and love disgusting things! All of em! To the exclusion of all other things! These urchins are barely more dignified than a mangy orphan dog riding the rails with his owner, Nick Jr. the Hobo.”

The first time Fred Savage meets Howie Mandel’s monster (could have phrased that better), he watches him burn nearly to death in the sunlight like a vampire hunter watching his nemesis fry after years of hunting and battle. Damn, kid- you just met this monster, you don’t know if he’s good or bad. Check out Fred Savage’s dead-eyed implacable expression as he watches the monster beg for mercy. If that kid doesn’t grow up to be a Christian-Bale-in-AmericanPsycho style investment banker businessman, then he’s going to make some Geek Squad dudes real unhappy as a Best Buy manager.

Oh yeah, and the fat school bully drinks monster pee thinking it’s apple juice. Then Fred Savage wakes that kid up to take him to the underworld at the end of the movie to help fight monsters. When they get down there, he’s like, “oh by the way, if we don’t make it back to the surface by sunrise, we turn into monsters.” That’s right, school bully. A passing acquaintance at your school is not only involved in a battle against monsters in which his very humanity is at stake, but he’s willing to gamble with yours as well for the sake of having someone hold an extra flashlight. Fred Savage’s character in Little Monsters is one of the most ruthless and calculating figures in the history of gross kid cinema.

The final boss monster is dressed up like a British schoolboy except he’s a grown man with makeup on and his brain is sticking out of the back of his head and his hands are all corpse-like. I want to know this dude’s back-story. He shows up for five minutes then he gets (spoiler alert, I guess) murdered by Fred Savage and his friends. Savage is right. Ain’t they got a police force down in monster town? They need to hide their monster kids, hide their monster wife and hide their monster husband cause Fred Savage is killing every monster up in here.

Also, when Howie Mandel is helping Fred Savage escape at the end of the movie before the sun comes up he stands there and gives a twenty minute speech on friendship. Friendship can kiss my ass, he needs to get the hell out of monster town. There’s no time for hugs and gifts of jackets! I kind of get the impression Howie Mandel was stalling so he could keep Fred Savage talking until the monster police showed up to bring him to justice for his crimes.

I do appreciate that the final scene of the movie involved a wino asleep on the beach and a Talking Heads song, which is how every movie should end all the time. Except for movies that are already about winos, like Leaving Las Vegas. Or the Andy Capp movie, if they ever make one. And a Lockhorns movie. Wait, are they winos? I think they just hate each other. Well, they can be winos for the movie. Like the Bukowski-penned movie Barfly. Loretta Lockhorn saying, “if another man came along with a fifth of whiskey, I’d go with him” to Leroy Lockhorn. Damn, that’s grim.

Star Trek

I watched Star Trek last weekend on Netflix Instant Streaming. They didn’t have it in HD! For shame, Netflix! Look, I understand that some things are going to be in standard definition. If I’m streaming season one of Mama’s Family, I don’t need every blue hair on Thelma Harper’s head to be in crisp high definition. But Star Trek? That’s like having a machine that makes Dairy Queen Blizzards and serving up McFlurries instead. Turn on that Blizzard machine, Dairy Queen! That having been said, I’ve seen Mama’s Family in 1080p and it’s visually stunning. Just amazing, the detail on her apron and pearl necklace.

Tyler Perry is in this movie but he isn’t dressed like Madea. I wish he was, though. I wish any time someone in Starfleet won a medal or got promoted, Madea had to perform the ceremony. They could say she was resurrected from DNA or she’s a holodeck simulation like when Picard got to match wits with Moriarty and wear a Sherlock Holmes hat. I googled that and it turns out Data was the one wearing the hat. I don’t care that I remembered a Star Trek: The Next Generation episode incorrectly. Oh, I’m Madea! I’m a wise old lady in a dress! Here’s your Star Trek gold medal! Shazam! I clearly have never been to see a Madea film. I’m sorry. Who am I apologizing to? The holographic Madea in the Star Trek future, of course.

Still an amazing movie, though. Leonard Nimoy shows up to play old Spock and meet young Kirk and young Spock. All those Vulcans wearing bowl haircuts. Is that all they have in Vulcan barbershops? Bowls? I guess they always have a place to put their cereal. Well, at least they did until their whole planet got blown up. No, our booooowls!

Winona Ryder is Spock’s mom. She should start a band called Spock’s Mom. You know she’d have to cover “The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.” Leonard Nimoy rolling his eyes in the crowd, thinking, ‘Why did I ever record that shit I hate you Youtube.’

Chris Pine is the Captain Kirk-iest Captain Kirk that ever there was. I bet William Shatner thought he swapped bodies with Chris Pine. Calling him up in the middle of the night, give me my body back! But he had the wrong number and called George Takei instead. Sulu, give me that body back! Well, that’s going to lead to romantic confusion.  Man, I got pictures of all three of those dudes: William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy and George Takei. Take that, people without extensive collections of photographs of Star Trek luminaries.

I bet Zachary Quinto is glad he got the role of Spock because Heroes turned out to be really terrible. Now he can tell everybody he was in one of the best science fiction movies ever made. That’s right. THE BEST. Simon Pegg is even in this thing and when Simon Pegg shows up nerd goosebumps are sure to follow. Speaking of goosebumps, I fed some geese in the park today on my lunchbreak. And there was a bossy duck in the pond who was going QUACK QUACK QUACK! What do you want from me, duck?! I named him Spike because his feathers were all ruffled and they looked like spikes. That’s it for the duck story.

Oh- and the green lady Captain Kirk was making out with looked like She-Hulk. Too bad J.J. Abrams wasn’t like let’s just put She-Hulk in this thing we already got Madea. Apple used a still photo from Star Trek to advertise its iPad and iPod products for a while. Kiss my ass, Apple, this movie is cooler than you. I wrote Steve Jobs an email one time and he never even replied. Booooooooo, Steve Jobs.

Hooray for DragonCity
dragoncity

Hooray for DragonCity

My friends and I always joke about how we wish we lived in a city where DragonCon never ended. DragonCity, we call it. A city full of Stormtroopers and goths in steampunk goggles, the kind of place where you might see a slutty Batman. A city where you can walk with beer in hand among costumed men and women dressed in lightsabers, capes, tall boots and anime cat girl ears, driven by an overwhelming need to show the underside of their asses.

I guess you’d have to sentence people to live in DragonCity like some kind of prison island. Unlike my friends and I, most people don’t want to live in a world where you can throw a rock and hit esteemed science fiction actor Scott Bakula and then throw another rock and hit a sweaty degenerate in a Dragon Ball Z shirt with a messenger bag full of hentai porn. Also, where did you get those rocks? Are they collectible Spidey rocks signed by Stan Lee?

This year at DragonCon, I ended up at a cosplay porn website’s promotional party. There was a stripper pole for stripping on and everything. Or so I thought. As it would happen these ladies were not only not wearing costumes, but they had also decided to not not wear clothes. One girl was pole dancing in a long sundress. A wizard stood alone in the corner watching, presumably summoning a Patronus under his robe. Another girl was dancing in her underwear and a gentleman nerd put a dollar in her waistband. Well, there you have it. One dollar! My goodness, everyone should dance provocatively for science fiction and fantasy convention attendees because it’s a veritable gold mine. Hey there grizzled old prospector, put away the oversized skillet that you apparently use to pan for gold with and get yourself some fishnet stockings because booty dancing at a hotel party for a bunch of guys in Gandalf outfits and Ghostbusters t-shirts is like finding an oil well next to a chest of pirate treasure buried under a millionaire’s will encrusted with diamonds.

The cosplay website’s party got shut down by a hotel manager and a cop. So did another DragonCon party I went to, because there were reports that someone was throwing a bedsheet over the balcony. Who was throwing bedsheets from the 39th floor? Maybe a ghost lost his balance.

I got hooked on the four dollar hamburgers at the Marriott. I ate them for all my meals. I found them to be delicious and cheap. The hamburger guy recognized me eventually and gave me a free hamburger. I considered saving it for later but then the idea of walking around DragonCon with a cheap hamburger in my bag made me feel a bit queasy. There’s a lot of heat and walking and jostling going on in that bag. A stale DragonCon burger is not your steadfast companion, it’s a furtive glance at Wonder Woman’s cleavage- enjoy the thrill and move on.

I got good and drunk from scotch in a flask and hotel party beer and beer from restaurants at the convention, which to look over the receipt would have you believe you had purchased a bottle full of TARDIS keys and not a Corona Light. At one party a bunch of steampunk guys and dudes in Mexican wrestler masks were yelling Wu-Tang Clan lyrics. Later that night, I saw a girl entirely topless in the lobby except for her taped nipples. Hooray for DragonCity, how do I run for mayor? I also saw a burlesque show that included a transvestite dancer. He had tape over his nipples, too. I think he made the right choice. Had he not covered his nipples it’d be a vote of no confidence, in my opinion. I guess you aren’t a lady until taped nipples makes you a lady.

Toward the end of it, I was drunk and people-watching, walking around with my friends at 2:30 in the morning. A bunch of drunk guys were yelling, “Who wants to take a picture of this shit?!” I said, “I’ll take a picture of that shit!” in the spirit of good will and dragon themed conventions. Later, when I was editing my photos, I saw that one of them had managed to get his ball sack out from under his tights in an attempt to get his testicles in the picture. He wore an expression of calm self assurance. “Hang on,” his expression seemed to say, “I need to get this last part of my costume ready.”

Dexter | Season 4

Much like a guy in a gorilla suit in a Master P video, John Lithgow slam dunks his performance as the Trinity Killer with a basketball made of crazy into a hoop made of his sister’s ashes. Gold tank rolls onto court, confetti falls. Master P makes everyone say Uggghhhhhh.

Am I crazy or did Rita get hotter? She looks like she’d smell like coconut suntan lotion all the time. They should make perfume that smells like coconut suntan lotion. Or cologne, I guess. I mean, put some other fancy stuff in there to justify the outrageous price. Like tea leaves or gold shavings or fortunes from fortune cookies. And the fortune says, “You smell like coconuts.” And a monkey that can read thinks to himself, “It’s true.”

Old man serial-killer-hunter Lundy is back this season in a jaunty hat. Gotta tip your hat to a rakish hat. Especially if you’re wearing a rakish hat, too. Then you’re both tipping your hats in a Möbius strip of hat tipping. To you, sir. No, to you, sir. I insist, to you, sir! And so on. Until you’ve got two skeletons in rakish hats in mid-tip to one another, jaws open. The Dead Gentleman’s Hat Club. Sounds like a fun place to play cards. You’d play with coins from the underworld used to pay for safe passage into the land of the dead.

Speaking of passage from the land of the dead, Dexter’s dad pops up every five minutes in the form of a ghostly memory giving advice and being a general nag. He won’t leave Dexter alone for five minutes without saying some sourpuss shit. Dexter, don’t forget my code, Dexter hide that body, Dexter you’re juggling too many identities blah blah blah. Damn, bossy ass ghost. That’s “bossy-ass ghost” not “bossy ass-ghost”. What I want to know is, why does Dexter bother imagining him eating turkey dinner like the rest of his family and friends in the Thanksgiving dinner scene? If I thought about a deceased family member while riding on a roller coaster I wouldn’t imagine them riding the roller coaster with me. Or if I remembered something wise that Ben Franklin once said while I was having sex, I wouldn’t take the extra step of envisioning Ben Franklin there in the room spanking that ass. I guess that’s what an ass-ghost does.

Big Spoiler Alert

My good friend The Classless Chap not only spoiled the big twist at the end of the season, but he did so on Facebook. In his status update. I think the only way he could have done it more effectively is if he had hired a plane with the spoiler written on a banner streaming behind it to fly over the city. And paid the pilot extra to crash into my house so I’d be injured and have to go to the emergency room. And then bribed the nurse at the hospital to write the spoiler on my chart so it was the first thing the doctor reads out loud to me. And paid the doctor to legally change his name to Dr. Rita Dies so it was written on his lab coat. And then came to visit me in the hospital with a bouquet of flowers arranged to say The Trinity Killer murders Rita in the bathtub in the final episode. Wow. He’s really sinking a lot of money into spoiling Dexter Season 4 for me in this hypothetical situation.

Well, if you haven’t seen it yet, I hope you haven’t read this far. Unless you are that coconut-smelling reading monkey. To you, sir- I tip my hat, merely for your ability to read and your glamorous hat. No, to you, sir. I insist, to you, sir!! Looks like me and this monkey are going to be tipping our hats to one another for a long time. Here I come, Dead Gentleman’s Hat Club!