Archive for: March, 2011


Matt Damon is a psychic who gave up psychic-ing to be a blue collar worker because he got sick of talking to dead people all the time. Man, how insufferable are these ghosts? Hey Matt Damon, would you mind relaying this important message to my loved ones in the mortal realm? NO, shut up you stupid skeleton! I want to weld or hammer stuff and wear a hard hat. This factory job is much, much better than communicating with the dead.

Also, are the dead people all just hanging out in that sepia blur world all the time just waiting to talk to Matt Damon? There is a restaurant here in Atlanta that makes fried chicken tacos with jalapeño mayonnaise and there is always a long line to get in. Maybe being dead and talking to Matt Damon is like eating three of those tacos with a side of turnip greens.

A French lady almost gets killed in a tsunami and is briefly dead. The actress that plays her has the most French name imaginable, Cécile de France. Unless you named her Baguette de Fancy Bicyclé, it doesn’t get much more French than that. She’s so French that even though her Wikipedia page is in English, the entry on her career makes a point of stressing that she studied art dramatique! Really, Wikipedia page? Not the dramatic arts? Even the character Amélie from the movie Amélie would read that and say, “Sacrebleu! This page, it is too French, even for me!”

Plus, there are two British twins and one of them dies. So the living twin is walking around a train station and the dead twin knocks the hat off his head and saves his life from a train bombing. Wait a minute, movie. You never said ghosts could manipulate hats! Also, all the dead people are over there in golden world standing up with no chairs to sit in at the Department of Waiting on Matt Damon, aka Hell. Do they have the ability to reach into our world and do whatever they want with our hats?

No wonder Matt Damon doesn’t want to talk to them anymore, they keep pushing our finest hats onto the dirty ground! Who wants to dust off their hard hat twenty times a day on their way to the world’s greatest factory that’s better than supernatural powers? Not Matt Damon, that’s for sure.

Clint Eastwood directed this movie instead of starring as Roland in the movie adaptation of Stephen King’s The Gunslinger, which is what he does in my head all the time. Even though he is a good director, I don’t think Clint Eastwood should be in charge of the afterlife. “So, Clint Eastwood- now that I’m dead, what’s there to do around here?” “Well, we have a bunch of fuzzy light on everything. And you can do whatever you want to anyone’s hat. Even Timothy Olyphant’s cowboy hat on the show Justified, which is only getting better in its second season.”

Oh, I almost got to the end of the review without mentioning Matt Damon’s sensible grey wool sweater! And I just did! So somber. Just a really serious piece of clothing. The end!



Denzel Washington and Chris Pine are two train conductors (engineers?) and they are like, “Trains! Get that coal lined up! Put the lead switch on the fifty yard line! You put twenty five train cars on this train instead of thirty?! That’s bad because of train law! Now the king of trains will smite you with his steam powered hammer!” There was a lot of train talk. I feel like I could drive a train after viewing Unstoppable. I certainly feel like I could stop a train.

It sure seems like a lot of equipment they had in place to stop the train in this movie did nothing to even slow the train down. Like the whole railroad’s backup plan was to put a couple of pillows and thick blankets on the tracks and hope for the best. I think at one point they put a scarecrow on the tracks so the train would get scared and turn around.

Also, as it turns out, people can put giant tanks of horrible chemicals on trains and nobody has any idea until the train is a runaway train. Hey- take my crazy hazardous materials, railroad! And the train company is all, “Put whatever you want on our big metal traveling death machine, it’s only tons and tons of potential murder. You want to put some babies up there while you’re at it?”

Whenever I think of trains, I think of the Monopoly guy (Mister Monopoly I think is his name?) buying up all the railroads and electric companies. Poor Monopoly Guy. He just wants to put a thimble on a dog and wear one shoe. Is Monopoly Guy supposed to represent everyone playing Monopoly, like the ghost of Monopoly? Or is he competing against all the players? Fight to the death for the Community Chest! To quote the band Morphine– do not go quietly unto your grave, Monopoly Man.

Anyway, Reading, Pennsylvania, B&O, and Short Line are all in danger unless Chris Pine and Denzel Washington get their act together and stop that train! I’m disappointed that at no point did they use “C’mon N’ Ride It (The Train)” by the Quad City DJ’s for the soundtrack. They should have at least remixed it and called it “C’mon N’ Stop It (The Train)”

Due to the fact that it stars Denzel Washington, would it be considered poor form to call this movie “Train-ing Day 2”? I put a hyphen in there so you would have no doubt it was a horrible pun, and maybe to enrage you a little. And that’s the end of the review!

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

Shia LaBeouf is a Wall Street guy. But he’s a good Wall Street guy because he wants to help a scientist with his green solar magic wind fusion ray. The scientist guy is like, “Shia LaBeouf, if we don’t get 100 million dollars soon, we’ll have to shut down all these lasers and empty the beakers and turn off our steampunk goggles with their clockwork and flashing lights.” And Shia LaBeouf says,”I’ll get that money for you, because money never sleeps, even after three tall PBRs and a shot of well whiskey, which is what I had to drink last night and now I’m hungover trying to review this movie. I guess I’m not speaking in the voice of Shia LaBeouf anymore.”

Then Michael Douglas gets out of jail as Gordon Gekko and nobody is waiting for him. Doesn’t anybody want to come drive a greedy old businessman home from jail? No one? He seems surprised, like heartless Wall Street tycoons usually have a brass band playing for them when they are released from prison. Then it’s nine years later, which is a long time for money not to sleep.

Shia LaBeouf’s boss gives him a check for a million dollars. “Go spend it, Shia LaBeouf!” he says. “Go spend this million dollars on leather jackets and motorcycles, which you apparently cannot appear in a movie without. The last time anyone owned this many leather jackets and motorcycles, Henry Winkler maxed out his credit cards trying to outfit the seven thousand Fonzie clones that were created after he fell in the Large Hadron Collider.”

Shia LaBeouf goes and buys a ring for his pretty girlfriend, who says she hates money and would rather have a Cracker Jack ring. I bet she hates money because it never sleeps and keeps her up all night playing the drums and George Washington sings “Try A Little Tenderness” by Otis Redding from the front of a dollar bill. Anyway, she runs a website called Frozen Truth, with a logo of the word TRUTH in a block of ice. That’ll show the truth! That’s usually what people do with information they want to be shared, right? They freeze it. I write my best reviews on a piece of paper, soak them in water and put them by the Bagel Bites in my freezer.

Shia LaBeouf tracks down Michael Douglas and says, “I’m marrying your daughter!” Michael Douglas replies, “Money never sleeps, so I’ll ask it to wake me up so I don’t oversleep and miss the wedding.” Then Michael Douglas steals a million dollars from his daughter and Shia LaBeouf. I guess he needed it so he could set his money alarm.

There sure were a lot of David Byrne songs in this movie. I guess Oliver Stone is friends with him or something. Characters would be talking about money (the awake kind of money, not the lazy-ass sleeping money) and then stocks and graphs and stuff. Suddenly, a David Byrne song!

♫ “Strange days, I’ve got my left foot on the skyyyyy!! Put me over yesteerdaaay, I don’t know where the door is!” ♪

And so on. Whoops, looks like I’m done talking about this movie. The other night I was at a bar listening to karaoke and watching two drunk girls sing Stone Temple Pilots, when suddenly I didn’t want to see any more karaoke AT ALL. Anyway, I left the bar even though I was kind of thinking it would have been fun to sing “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS because sometimes I like to sing along with it when I’m drunk and it comes up in iTunes. It would have been a real emotional moment for everyone in the bar, I’m sure. Girls would have been like, “Oh, I hope he’s singing about me…” And guys would have been thinking, “I wish I could sing as good as that dude!” And then everyone would have gone home with the memory of my awesome karaoke performance lingering in their hearts, and when they woke up in the morning, they’d barely remember it, like a beautiful dream that slips away in the sun.

So in conclusion, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps was not as good as the first Wall Street. Sorry.

Black Swan

Black Swan

Okay, Natalie Portman wants to be the Swan Queen in a big ballet production. You can tell this is a big deal ballet company, because they do all their ballet in an enormous building in the big city. And there are big ballet posters outside. This is serious ballet going on here, not some half-assed dance studio in between Bruster’s and the Tax Assessor’s office. I bet if you tried to eat Bruster’s ice cream inside that giant ballet fortress, someone would grand battement en cloche it right out of your dumb mouth, dummy.

Man, what was the attraction with that ballet director? That guy just spent a lot of time being a sourpuss and trying to sleep with Natalie Portman. I mean, you could probably get the same results if you put Oscar the Grouch in charge of your ballet company. Oh, Natalie Portman, you must become the Green Swan! I guess there would probably be more trash on stage than usual.

Lot of uptight people getting really worked up about ballet in this thing. Like “hallucinating having bird hands” uptight. Maybe that’s what happened to Big Bird. And then Natalie Portman gets stabby. If I ever start my own super serious ballet company, I’m going to make sure all the knives are the novelty kind that collapse into their handles.

And then, Mila Kunis seduces Natalie Portman into having sex with her while Natalie Portman’s mom yells at them from the other side of the bedroom door. That is so distracting! I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t perform under those kinds of conditions. Then again, having a ballet-obsessed middle-aged lady pound on the door while you get it on might be a turn-on for some people. Not me, though. I prefer my romance without overbearing stage mothers ranting and trying to get their hand in the door with their claw-like fingers AAHRGH YOUR CAREER! BALLET IS SO IMPORTANT!!

Oh wow, I almost forgot all about the red eyes that Natalie Portman gets when she turns into a bird dancer girl. Caw caw! I’m beautiful! And sexy, maybe? Do you think big black birds are sexy? Then you are probably a bird yourself. Or Edgar Allan Poe. Well, now that I’ve insulted one of our nation’s most cherished authors, I should probably wrap this review up. Caw caw, goodnight!