skot AT izzlepfaff DOT com
Monday, 12 November
Happy November! Miserable yet? No? You must have not seen Fred Claus yet! I mean, I haven't either, but its existence still makes me deeply unhappy. Here it is only the first bit of fucking November, and what do we get unleashed on us? A clearly awful holiday movie with Vince Vaughn. I regard Vince Vaughn as clear proof of one unassailable fact about Hollywood executives: they hate happiness. What else other than purest misanthropy could move them to cast Vince fucking Vaughn in a holiday comedy? The man hasn't ever bothered to act a day in his life. He just gets out there and Vaughns. Yes, Vince, give me more of those hilarious clicky-eyes and rapid-fire speech! You're like a Touretter, only less funny! Remember when we all thought he was "money" in Swingers? Can we get a fucking refund yet?
Oh, let's see how else Hollywood is planning on ruining things for us soon enough.
THIS! IS! SPARTA!
One of these phrases can be heard resounding throughout the Kurruk household during the holidays. Can you guess which one? Hollywood has taught me that overdramatic screaming is the only way to get my point across. Mike Mignola knew this. BABIES LIKE IRON! Mike Mignola is a genius.
You know who isn't a genius? Robert Zemeckis, of course, the genial hack who never met a gimmick he didn't like, such as de-legging Gary Sinise in Forrest Gump or pretending there was anything more to the story of Death Becomes Her other than gleefully doing hideous things to Goldie Hawn (inspired, I agree).
Beowulf ventures into the same Uncanny Valley that Polar Express explored, but still without creepy sex objects--except, of course, for Angelina Jolie, prompting a horrified audience to wonder, "Wasn't she already creepy?" Zemeckis is the guy over in the corner, hunched over and humping the motion capture machine Grendel's mother emerges naked from a steam bath on the video monitor.
Love in the Time of Cholera
HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Hey, where is everybody? Oh, right, cholera.
Oh, cheer up. It's got Javier Bardem! Everyone wants to fuck him, even me! It's also got . . . ah . . . Benjamin Bratt! He . . . he was in Catwoman! Huh? Huh? And--wait, don't go!--wait, we've also got . . . John Leguizamo!
I predict this will be the most successful holiday film ever released with "cholera" in the title, and I'll stand by that.
Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium
It didn't take me or any of my friends very long to draw parallels to Troy McClure's magnum opus The Contrabulous Fabtraption of Professor Horatio Hufnagel, except that Troy McClure is terribly funny, and this movie has Dustin Hoffman and the inexhaustibly ghoulish Natalie Portman, who is only capable of being funny when she is deadly serious.
Here is the only thing this film has going for it:
Jason Bateman ... Henry Weston, the Mutant
I Am Legend
This is apparently the ninth or so adaptation of the Richard Matheson novel, which I admit I have never read, but I did see The Omega Man as a kid, staying up late when nobody was watching, and it scared the fucking shit out of me. To this day I can barely read Green Lantern comics, because those fucking Guardians of Oa look just like those goddamn little freaks.
Anyway. Let's take a look at Mr. Smith's filmography, shall we? (NOTE: Selectively edited for the sake of embarrassment.)
The Pursuit of Happyness (2006)--Turkey.
So go ahead, people. Take your chances on I Am Legend. I'm not seeing it without a power ring.
Note: Comments are closed on old entries.
Angelina Jolie is creepy, especially now that she is skeletal. I'm guessing that there will be some artful editing to make her appear as if she isn't succoming to some terrible wasting disease...oh,wait....maybe cholera?
BABIES LIKE IRON!
My favorite line in all of Hellboy. Hooray!
Hey, hey, hey!
Beowulf was a cinematic masterpiece!
Post a comment