Archive for: November, 2010

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1

This review contains mild spoilers.

Well, now that Dumbledore is dead, Voldemort is having evil wizard parties. Doesn’t seem like much fun. He spins a lady around in the air then feeds her to his pet snake. Isn’t that how redneck parties go, with something getting fed to a snake?

Harry Potter and a bunch of fake Harry Potter decoys try to fool Voldemort flying around on brooms and magic motorcycles to the Weasley farmhouse. It doesn’t work out. Who would have thought the world’s most powerful evil wizard would have found Harry Potter on that magic flying motorcycle with his friend the enormous giant and his other friend the white owl he’s been carrying to wizard school all these years?

If I was chairman of the hiding-Harry-Potter committee (first muggle in office, thank you very much), I’d say hang on wizards, let’s put away all this magic shit and try something else that Voldemort wouldn’t expect. Let’s dress Harry up like a businessman, put a hat on him (NO NOT A POINTY WIZARD HAT) and have a limo drive him to the Weasley’s. Have him talk on a cell phone the whole time. No one ever looks twice at a guy in a suit who looks like he’s rich because no one wants to throw up in the bushes with jealousy. This can also be used to skip out on meals at T.G.I. Friday’s.

Then Harry, Ron and Hermione go into hiding in a tent with a Horcrux, which is a little piece of Voldemort’s soul in a locket. Surprisingly, it’s not a photo of him with his sweetie at the county fair. One time I went to a county fair in the parking lot of a mall. It was really just a Ferris wheel and a corn dog stand. When I asked the carnie whether the Ferris wheel was safe to ride as I was getting on it he said, “We’ll see” and pulled the lever to start it.

If I was Voldemort and I was hiding the darkest parts of my soul in different objects I’d have to put at least one Horcrux in a vinyl single of “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out” by The Smiths. Take me out tonight/where there’s music and there’s people/who are young and alive/because I’m trying to find Harry Potter/so I can kill him with a wand/I took off Malfoy’s dad

After a bunch of fussing and fighting with Ron and some sexy dancing to Nick Cave with Hermione, Harry strips down and jumps in an icy pond because he sees the Sword of Gryffindor at the bottom. Dear evil wizards, if you are ever trying to kill Harry Potter,  just put something that looks like the thing he wants at the bottom of a frozen body of water, as he will leap naked into it without hesitation. That also works for older lady wizards who want to get Harry Potter’s clothes off. “Oh Harry, would you mind getting my good earrings I dropped them in the bottom of the bathtub and now the bathtub is frozen somehow so TAKE YOUR ROBES OFF DAMN IT!”  Wow, aggressive wizard lady.

Then Ron has to stab the Horcrux with the sword, black smoke comes out talking shit and Heaven knows Ron is miserable now because a weirdly smoothed-skinned Harry and Hermione are making out in the smoke. I like how even though the talking smoke is the embodiment of evil, it still tastefully refrains from showing Hermione’s breasts. Thanks for keeping it classy, smoke monster.

Voldemort opens up Dumbledore’s grave and hovers over him with his face close enough to Dumbledore’s face to give him butterfly kisses with his eyelashes. Does Voldemort have eyelashes? He takes Dumbledore’s super wand and is all like pow zoom lightning whoosh pyrotechnics magic! I guess he’s not worried about anyone catching him grave robbing.

Then the movie ends, quite abruptly, actually.

How I Accidentally Strom Thurmond’ed My Baby in Fable III

So my Fable III guy is running around the Fable III world being the brother of the king doing stupid quests and tickling townsfolk and making pies. You know, like most royal family did in olden days. In fact, what heir to the throne wouldn’t love to make all manner of pies for small amounts of gold or whistle merry tunes over and over until a villager asks him to deliver a package for them like some kind of medieval whistling FedEx village idiot?

But anyway, at some point I saved my childhood sweetheart Elise when my brother made me choose between murdering her and murdering some random people I couldn’t give a shit about. Childhood sweetheart, I choose you! Mostly because I assumed you’d be having sex with my character later. And I was right! Unprotected sex, I might add. Which instantly resulted in a baby apparating right by the bed. Man, I’m sure glad babies can’t just teleport into your life right after you have sex. You gotta give me time to be a deadbeat dad, magic teleporting baby! It takes at least a couple hours to buy a bus ticket or hop on an empty freight car.

So I married Elise and put her and the baby in the nicest house I owned. She’s the love of my live! And then I go running around with my dog doing busywork for anyone who can yell their grocery list within earshot of my character. Oh, pick up my dry cleaning! Shuck this corn! Kill these mercenaries! Shell these peas! Hmmm. Lot of produce work.

Then I run into this beautiful dark skinned noblewoman and I’m thinking, well my wife and kid aren’t in this town so guess what. A few well timed dances, tickles, chats and heroic poses later, she’s asking me to (you guessed it) deliver a package for her. The next thing you know, I’m delivering a different sort of package during a tasteful interlude of sex noises. Aaaand a magic baby shows up when the lights come back on. So now I have a secret extra wife and baby.

I move them into the second nicest house I own. Now look, I didn’t give my secret black wife and baby the second rate house because of their race. But I’m not made of nice houses! And the second best house was very nice. I even furnished it with gift furniture and whatnot. Then I got made king and moved into the castle. Of course I moved Elise and our baby into the castle with me, they were here first! I’ve loved her all my life, apparently. Then I moved my second-but-equal-in-my-heart-I-assure-you family into the hand-me-down fancy house. And then I felt guilty about all this sneaking around so I went to visit family 2.0, but my second wife was wandering around on the road at night, got attacked by balverines and died.

Even though I was king, the orphanage came and took my second baby away the moment my second wife died. Like the Minority Report of orphanages. The whole Fable III world is very efficient with the adding or removing of babies from your life. If you could Paypal a baby to someone, that’s how easy it is to get a newborn infant in Fable III.

I go down to get my secret daughter back from the orphanage and adopt her (which, is kind of like having to buy back your stolen car) and while I’m there I adopt a whole shitload of orphans to live with my daughter so now she thinks I’m just a kindly old king who showed up like Oprah’s Favorite Things and YOU GET ADOPTED and YOU GET ADOPTED. Problem solved, secret baby remains a secret and my first family is none the wiser and no one will probably ever know until my character is really really old.

Did I hide the existence of my dark-skinned baby from the public eye and financially support her in a clandestine fashion à la segregationist senator Strom Thurmond? Yes. I did do that. I’m sorry to have set video game race relations back two decades in the fictional world of Albion. In my defense I was playing first-come-first-served when it came to who got to live in the castle and if I had made the families in reverse order then you can be damn sure there’d be like twenty biracial kids waving toy swords around and whooping it up in the castle playroom.

What did I learn from all this? The road to Hell is sometimes paved with good intentions, illegitimate babies that appear out of thin air and whistling and pies. I meant well in my reign as king of Albion and I think my angelic blue glowing wings I earned after beating the game reflect that. Anyway, sorry about all the second class citizening of my mistress-wife and orphaned misbegotten multiracial love child. I will totally keep it in my pants next time.

Men of a Certain Age | Season 1

Now- I would never tell a bondage porn company how to run their business, but it seems like a waste not to make a porn spoof of this show called Men In A Certain Cage. There’s your free advice, bondage porn company. Also, don’t take any wooden nickels. One time I visited the Uncle Remus museum in Eatonton, Georgia and they handed out wooden nickels at the end of the tour. Hell yeah, I took one. Do as I say, not as I do, Bre’r Rabbit.

I was sick all weekend so I decided to give Men of A Certain Age a shot. I was thinking, this show is going to be dumb I’ll just watch five minutes of the first episode then next thing you know I was having a Men of a Certain Age marathon. You now what, though? Even though I watched all the episodes I still did not click “watch all” on the DVD menu. Lets not get ahead of ourselves, DVD player. Slow and steady wins the race. Especially if it’s a race to watch all the episodes of Men of a Certain Age in one sitting. I win! Where is my trophy shaped like Ray Romano? Probably on back order behind all those people who needed them for their Everybody Loves Raymond conventions. I’ll see YOU at RaymondCon 2010!

Hate to say it, but I like Men of a Certain Age Scott Bakula better than Quantum Leap Scott Bakula. And I read the Quantum Leap novelizations in high school. And got angry when they contradicted the rules of the television show about whether Sam Beckett switches bodies when he leaps or if it’s just his mind leaping around in time. Which is it, Quantum Leap books?! This isn’t the novelization of Murder, She Wrote! Get your science right.

Is it wrong that Andre Braugher furtively stuffing Fiddle Faddle in his face trying to keep it a secret from his family made me want to run down to the grocery store and buy a box of Fiddle Faddle? Yeah, angry eating! Eat a bag of Cheetos popcorn then follow it up with a bag of cheddar & sour cream potato chips! Actually, don’t do that. I did that and then was surprised when later my stomach was all blrgghhh rarrr! Like having a damn viking on a trampoline in my belly. I bet a viking’s trampoline would have an awesome dragon’s head and you’d climb a staircase made of skulls to get on it. Bounce for the glory of ODIN my brothers! Anyway, Andre Braugher nailed it in Duets and he’s even better in Men of a Certain Age.

I couldn’t help but notice that Ray Romano’s character is a golfer who plays a lot of golf. That’s cool, Ray Romano. If I ever write my own show I’ll probably make my occupation video game tester who plays video games the best and makes out with Kristen Bell. And I’ll call it Veronica Mars Meets Mass Effect. And they will crown my show king of shows, and there will be parades and great rejoicing and peace for a thousand years.

Winter’s Bone

Dogs everywhere heard the title of this movie and started wagging their tails. Sorry, cinema enjoying dogs. There are no dog bones in Winter’s Bone. There is a dog named Peanut Butter, though. So I guess you could still screen it at your dog movie night after you get done playing poker and posing for paintings of dogs playing poker.

So Ree Dolly is a 17 year old girl trying to find her father because the bail bondsman is going to take her family’s land unless she finds him, but nobody will tell her where he is. She thinks he’s been killed and all the meth-making yokels in her family are in on it. She keeps asking them if blood don’t mean nothing, but she finds out that it don’t. Now she knows how Dracula feels. Wait, never mind. Blood means everything to Dracula.

Ree goes around to different hillbillies’ houses on the hunt for her father’s whereabouts with her scary uncle Teardrop, played by John Hawkes. Hawkes is like an older, more badass version of DJ Qualls. Maybe John Hawkes is DJ Qualls from twenty years in the future, grizzled with experience and wisdom. Like if a seventy year old Batman came out of a time portal with a big scar on his face and he’s missing two fingers. Oh, what happened with the Joker, future Batman? “I don’t want to talk about it,” growls Batman, “Now help me get this message to Superman in Metropolis so I can get back to the year 2052.”

Before you can say Rilo Kiley alt-country O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack, Ree is all up in some country-ass living rooms watching people play the fiddle and getting nowhere with her search. Also, she makes a nuisance of herself to her crime lord grandfather who looks like Charlie Daniels. Guess that’s what all the fiddle playing was all about. Probably some kind of fiddle contest with the devil for some souls. If I was the devil I’d have a fiddle contest for more fiddles. Then flip those fiddles at an auction or something. Guess I’d make a terrible devil.

Oh yeah and Garret Dillahunt plays the sheriff. I liked him as John Henry in Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Too bad it’s canceled and now Summer Glau is out on the street. She’s probably out begging for nickels wearing nothing but a barrel. You know, when I imagine a down on his luck drifter wearing a barrel I think “impoverished hobo”, but when I picture  Summer Glau in the same outfit I think “Donkey Kong/Firefly fan fiction”. Anyway, Sarah Connor Chronicles– you will be missed, for your robots and your references to L. Frank Baum’s Oz books.

Right- this is a review of Winter’s Bone. This is one of the best movies I saw all year. Rent it or OnDemand it, do whatever you got to do to watch this movie.

The Killer Inside Me

The Killer Inside Me was directed by Michael Winterbottom. Which is crazy, because Winterbottom is clearly a bear’s name. Like a bear who lives by a wintry mountain stream. He’s always sitting in the snow eating fish and berries, hence the name Winterbottom. I guess if Winterbottom the Bear directed this movie, Casey Affleck would spend a lot more time catching salmon and climbing trees and less time hitting women in the face.

Casey Affleck plays a small town cop in the 50’s who is secretly violent and murderous. Not much of a secret, though. Seems like he can’t go five minutes without burning a hobo’s hand with a cigar or beating his prostitute girlfriend. I sure wouldn’t trust him with the details of a surprise party, or not to punch every lady who attended the surprise party in the mouth.

There sure are a lot of shots of women’s reddened butts from getting spanked in this movie. I get it, movie- you’re into spanking. I bet the cameraman was thinking, “What, another spanked butt shot?” Then he shrugs and spanks the key grip. If The Killer Inside Me was a famous graffiti artist it would call itself Spanksy. If it had a favorite Little Rascal it would be Spanky. Favorite way to hide unsightly belly fat and improve its silhouette? Spanx. Favorite Egyptian cat-looking building? Sphinx.

The Killer Inside Me is based on a pulp crime novel from the 50’s. Bruce Springsteen, Stanley Kubrick, all these people are saying they love this book and what an influence it was on them. I wonder if Jim Thompson would spit his bourbon out in surprise if he saw how hardcore they made his shit look on screen. His fedora would probably spin around in mid-air. His suspenders would jump off his body and run around the room shooting a revolver. I guess if your 1950’s style suspenders are coming to life and running around shooting guns you have bigger problems than flawed movie adaptations of your famous crime book.

I’ll tell you what I didn’t like- all the graphic scenes where Casey Affleck is beating his girlfriends to death. What the hell, movie?! I know this isn’t Hannah Montana: The Movie, but maybe turn the camera to the ceiling or something. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that unless you have an amazing incredible Pulitzer/Nobel Prize winning masterpiece of a script then maybe you shouldn’t try to put on such a horror show of beating women. Try to shoot for slightly more upsetting than the Monster Plantation at Six Flags but way less upsetting than actually watching it happen in real life in front of you.

Spoiler Alert

Oh right and the ending. Jessica Alba wasn’t dead after all. In the final scene the cops bring her to Casey Affleck’s house and he stabs her. Then his house goes up in flames because he poured gasoline all over it. “Thanks for putting me in the hospital, guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re stabbing me now. I still love you, apparently. Let’s be on fire together while we embrace and really metaphor it up! PS- You’re the worst boyfriend ever!”

The end!