I’m awesome. I wrote a book. It’s got little to do with movies. Download and read “Thank You, Goodnight” right HERE for free.
“And I’d like to state, for the record, right now – I love pornography. Love it. I have tapes that are pure fucking art, I’m telling ya. People fucking, sucking, every imaginable position, the finest looking women, fucking, sucking – I love it…That is one of my big fears in life, that I’m gonna die, you know, and my parents are gonna come to clean out my apartment, find that porno wing I’ve been adding onto for years. There’ll be two funerals that day. I can see my mom going through my stuff. ‘Look, honey, here’s Bill when he was a Cub scout. Look at how cute my baby is. His little short pants, his little hat. Look how cute my baby was. I wonder what’s in this box over here. ‘Rear Entry’, Volumes One through Forty?’ Eeeeerrrr, CRASH! The only guy going through the gates of Heaven with his mom spanking him.”
-Bill Hicks, Relentless, 1991
One of the smaller victories this week came in the form of the recently updated Archives in which I finally carried over all the remaining articles from my Movie Poop Shoot days (cue Wonder Years theme song and a single halcyon induced tear down my face) to this hopefully last stand at Quick Stop. Now you can mindlessly and needlessly check up on the past 4+ years worth of material I have been churning out.
I did wonder, though, as I was compiling all this crap together: Is any of this any good, really? Would someone have paid me for it, save for the outlandish idea of writing an entire weekly column to movie trailers, looking back on it? Since it frightened me too much to think about it too long I pressed on in my weekend and caught two films which don’t need me to review any more than the hundreds of articles already written on them. However, I do have this piece of advice for anyone thinking about taking Mom and Dad to the movies…and which subsequently dovetails nicely with the above quote…
Do NOT take anyone who was responsible for your baby batter to see FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL unless you want to be very uncomfortable as I was where there was copious and obnoxiously needless nudity.
I admit it. It was my fault. It was so my fault. I knew you’d see Jason Segel’s wang in full frontal fury but, Goddamn, by the time you were introduced to Jack McBrayer’s perverted world where the comedy really isn’t funny as it is just an excuse to have extended moments where you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be amusing or not; there are shots that linger way too long on this religious couple. Now, I could be wrong as having my mother sitting close by me genuinely triggered something biological in me which I don’t yet fully understand.
As well, I had a professor in college who taught a writing course and one of the lessons he really drove home to me was when you had a script/story/whatever in front of you there has to come a time when you go back and weigh each word, each moment with equal parts scrutiny and decision about whether it adds to the overall thrust of the story. Jason’s choices of what he chose to keep in the film and the pieces/moments which just felt like unnecessary filler happened more than once.
It could have been embarrassment but since I was more interested in trying to comprehend why many a critic has put this on their list of favorites for the year. I’m not a prude, and I always feel more nudity in films is a good thing for all involved, but apart from moments when you were wondering whether seeing Jason’s cock was really necessary to make things “funnier”, the ending was predictable, Bill Hader was all but a waste, the conceit was glaringly pedantic and plodding and I’m not sure if anyone else but Apatow was connected with the production of this film whether this film could have risen above the spec stage but it sure doesn’t feel like a film that deserves the attention it has received.
In other news, I saw IRON MAN. And, beside the soul-crushing, generic sounding a-chords that were used in all the fight sequences, it actually deserved the money it took from me. Loved it.
Ray also saw it and his review will appear at the end of the article. You’ve got to check out the way he words his passion for this film.
Director: Adam McKay
Cast: Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, Mary Steenburgen, Richard Jenkins
Release: July 25, 2008
Synopsis: Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, who last teamed in the box-office smash Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, now star in Step Brothers, directed by Adam McKay (Talladega Nights). In Step Brothers, Ferrell plays Brennan Huff, a sporadically employed thirty-nine-year-old who lives with his mother, Nancy (Mary Steenburgen). Reilly plays Dale Doback, a terminally unemployed forty-year-old who lives with his father, Robert (Richard Jenkins). When Robert and Nancy marry and move in together, Brennan and Dale are forced to live with each other as step brothers. As their narcissism and downright aggressive laziness threaten to tear the family apart, these two middle-aged, immature, overgrown boys will orchestrate an insane, elaborate plan to bring their parents back together. To pull it off, they must form an unlikely bond that maybe, just maybe, will finally get them out of the house.
View Trailer:
* Large (QuickTime)
Prognosis: Negative. I don’t know if this is supposed to be funny or if this is supposed to be a bizarre take on the trailer process in general, thus it may be too highfalutin for my pleebian brain, but this trailer is kinda horrible.
Actually, it’s a whole lot of terrible.
Based on the mediocre, 1st weekend success of SEMI-PRO you would think there would be some kind of call to quality control for these Ferrell flicks. True, he did not pair up with comedic stalwart Adam McKay and there is the very real feeling in many circles that this could be the reason why the film didn’t represent as well as it should have, that STEP BROTHERS is going to be the real deal but I don’t see any evidence of that here. In fact I would go on to assert that what you have in this trailer is a bizarre sequence of scenes that are neither funny nor appeal to the grown fratboys who flock to these films like Adam Sandler’s aging base has been so solid in doing.
The opening moments of the trailer encapsulate everything I’m about to dissect. We have a moment of introduction for these two grown men, Brennan and Dale, but the musical bed “North American Scum” by LCD Soundsystem is absolutely the wrong choice. Yeah, it feels all kinds of “edgy” in the way that suits hate but I hate it too. It’s trying to ape those certain qualities of irreverence that made NAPOLEON DYNAMITE such an individualistic coup. I’m assuming we’re all supposed to be fawning over the brilliance of the opening but it doesn’t get any better when we move in to the 26th second of the trailer to get what this movie is about.
These two guys have to live with one another? Will telling his stepbrother how much he wants to beat the other up when he falls asleep? The ubiquitous line in the sand where Reilly yells at Will to never touch his drums is a pathetic segue into something, again, that’s supposed to be funny but with Will shirtless (can he go for one movie where he’s not naked in the promotional material?) banging the drums the payoff just isn’t worth it.
I will concede that the quick clips of the two of them fighting and making up, the moment where Reilly is dumped into a shallow grave is a good one, and the realization that the two of them would have sex with John Stamos if they had to, are good. As is the scene with Will and John in an interview together, wearing tuxes no less, and Will goes on to berate the interviewer. These are the moments that would get me to see this film.
And, to heap a little more praise on this film, while I cannot get behind the idea that these guys can’t defend themselves against a phalanx of squat little kids I did enjoy seeing these two dudes build a bunk bed that was doomed. The visual setup and payoff for this gag was equal parts staged and funny.
I’m still of the belief, though, that this trailer suffers from an identity crisis. It tries to embed elements that will make it seem like it’s completely original but it fails to properly mesh mass populist comedy with giving us the wink and nudge to all of us who have been enjoying the strangeness of Ferrell’s and Reilly’s Funny or Die websidoes.
PINEAPPLE EXPRESS (2008)
Director: David Gordon Green
Cast: Seth Rogen, James Franco, Gary Cole, Rosie Perez, Danny McBride, Amber Heard
Release: August 8, 2008
Synopsis: Next summer, the guys who brought you Superbad reunite for the action-comedy Pineapple Express. Lazy stoner Dale Denton (Seth Rogen) has only one reason to visit his equally lazy dealer Saul Silver (James Franco): to purchase weed, specifically, a rare new strain called Pineapple Express. But when Dale becomes the only witness to a murder by a crooked cop (Rosie Perez) and the city’s most dangerous drug lord (Gary Cole), he panics and dumps his roach of Pineapple Express at the scene. Dale now has another reason to visit Saul: to find out if the weed is so rare that it can be traced back to him. And it is. As Dale and Saul run for their lives, they quickly discover that they’re not suffering from weed-fueled paranoia; incredibly, the bad guys really are hot on their trail and trying to figure out the fastest way to kill them both. All aboard the Pineapple Express.
View Trailer:
* Large (QuickTime)
Prognosis: Positive. There are a lot of things I didn’t like about the trailer for SUPERBAD, wonderful of a movie as it was, and KNOCKED UP, a miserable movie as it was.
The hackneyed approach to explaining comedy is that it’s the hardest content to try and produce but trying to make someone giggle or titter, if there is such a physical reaction, is an art form within the trailer genre. What KNOCKED and SUPER lacked in trying to convey its wittiness PINEAPPLE EXPRESS does it wonderfully.
The opening is what starts this trailer off on a splendid note. It’s such a minimalist intro that it almost made me worry about when the voice over was going to kick in. Normally I would take it as a bad sign if you were to begin a trailer with a Boom-Chicka-Bomb-Bomb type of noodling on the guitar but Seth is bloody brilliant in establishing his Everyman-ness. As he mutters “Cops, Cops, Cops” it’s apparent that the movie wants to keep Seth’s character in seemingly every film as a schlub.
Franco’s stoner is one that is much more engaging and funny to look at and it damn near reminds me of the last stoner I came to love with repeat viewings, Floyd from TRUE ROMANCE.
“A server, like a butler?”
These two seem like a good buddies and I believe it. I’m not prodded by some cards or some overpowering voiceover and instead of focusing on how completely high Saul is the two of them have chemistry with one another that I can buy. Further, as we really get into what is afoot with this film, we learn organically that this all has to do with Rogan’s witness to a murder, DIE HARD style, along with a seriously funny moment of him trying to flee the scene.
Cut to Seth flipping out with James and the game is afoot. In fact, one of the reasons why this trailer is so effective is that it just cuts through all the superfluous and needless hamming for the camera and gives us some real conflict. I happen to be a huge Craig Robinson fan and seeing him clap like a schoolgirl in anticipation of kicking some ass is a real treat.
I have to also give a hand to the inclusion of M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” to set the funky events in motion as Seth and James start heading out of town to avoid being shot. One of the more curious shots, to wit, is of Rogen’s Super Fly Snooka move from the turnbuckle. He seems to be nearly flying down to capture his prey and it’s a real stand-out as this seems to show that this is more than just two potheads on the run; we’ve got ourselves some real violence to look forward to.
And Franco getting his foot stuck in the windshield of the cop car he’s commandeered? Priceless. Count me in, finally, in advance for a movie brought to me by the people who had a fist in the making of SUPERBAD.
———————————————–
And now, from the warped, bent, broken and barely intact mind of Ray Schillaci…Reviews for IRON MAN, DEATH OF A GHOST HUNTER, SKID ROW and FLYBOYS
True Mettle Behind the Iron
Okay, while my cohort, Chris, made nice-nice to his wife and indulged her with the sub-par chick flick, “Made of Honor,” yours truly acted like a real man and ticked his spouse off. She insisted I get out of the house and take the kids with me. There was a method to my madness (rarely do you want to tick off a woman part Cherokee/Scottish descent) – with a busy weekend ahead of us, I wanted to catch “Iron Man” before anybody told me anything about it. And, I had little desire to suffer through another Patrick Dempsey pretty-boy flick with wife pining over him. I liked him better before the nose job.
Not only did I take my 8 and 14 year-old boys but I invited my 71 year-old hip dad as well. And, just as I predicted, IRON MAN entertained all. It has that whiz-bang-WoW factor that makes you feel like a kid again. There are two primary reasons for this, the canny (no pun intended – really) performance of Robert Downey Jr. and Jon Favreau’s love-of-comics directing.
Downey is as much IRON MAN as Harrison Ford was Indiana Jones or Sean Connery was James Bond. He is both funny, flippant, torn and driven as the son of a once famous industrialist. His portrayal as Tony Stark is spot on, perhaps even better than the original Marvel comic character himself. I was never a big Iron Man reader. I found Marvel’s Stark rather dull and obtuse. Besides that, there seemed to be far more interesting characters inhabiting the Marvel universe at the time. The only other one I could care less about was Thor – Shakespeare in super hero garb.
My interest heightened, as I got older, especially having seen a replica of IRON MAN encased in a glass cylinder at the once popular Marvel Super Hero Restaurant at Universal’s City Walk. As Marvel super heroes have been introduced to the big screen we can tell the difference between those who are just making another movie and those in love and respectful of the comic book world.
Favreau clearly tosses his ego aside and lays the groundwork for an updated story that does not tarnish the original work. If anything, he improves upon the legend and has us begging for more. There is no hidden agenda as of some comic book characters of late, nor is there any highly stylized romantic notions, which burdened “Superman Returns”. Also gone is any tongue-in-cheekiness that ruined the Shumacher directed Batman sequels. This is a straightforward telling with a master’s touch that transcends the audience into geek fandom with glee. It’s funny without being stupid or winking at us. The drama makes you cringe. And, the side note regarding responsibility of the proliferation of military technology is a good lesson shelled out.
I am not one to spell out a good story and ruin it with spoilers, especially one that is this enjoyable. There is such a glut of garbage entertainment out there that’s barely worth renting. This pre-summer blockbuster is so much better than its predecessors that it deserves multiple theatrical viewings. Even my dad walked out at the end and said, “That was made so well. They can make a bunch of those.” We just hope the assembly line continues the quality.
###
Less Spills, Minor Chills
Sean Tretta, Phoenix Filmmaker (Producer/Director/Writer and so much more), better known for his torture porn straight to DVD outings The Last American Snuff Film and Death Factory: Bloodletting displays some restraint and maturity with Death of a Ghost Hunter. Not all of it works but it does elicit some unsettling chills. The introductions feel forced and amateurish. And, at times DGH feels derivative in so many ways that I will not bother counting them. The ghostly tale has even been told better till that damn religious hood/box is introduced to us. That little invention cooked up by writers Mike Marsh and Sean Tretta appears as if it stepped out of the mind of Clive Barker to torment the hell out of us and that’s when …Ghost Hunter takes off.
If only the acting was as good as that box. It’s passable with the exception of Lindsay Page who is downright annoying. She’s too obvious in everything she does. You can read her a mile away. In fact, ten minutes into the movie, I knew she would be the impetus of all evil to come our way. It may not be entirely her fault. Hers is a character taken out of so many Stephen King novels (The Mist, most recent), the religious zealot gone awry. That being said, the story goes from mundane to creepy, then surprisingly creepier only to have the ending disappoint.
The film unfolds as a popular “ghost hunter” Carter Simms joins three other people, a cameraman, a reporter and spiritual advocate, played by Page, to either prove or disprove a haunting. The usual readings and sightings ensue and midway through that hood/box shows up and has the tale take a twisted turn. That device is nearly as fascinating as the puzzle box introduced in the Hellraiser series.
Tretta displays efficiency with budget and story. Unfortunately, he may not be rewarded for his restraint, which may lead him back to the torture porn arena for the fast cash. Technically he can use some refinement but he does know how to elicit a sense of creepiness and he can be inventive at times. The movie is worth a rental for a fun spook fest. Not everybody will be thrilled with the end, but I’m one of those people that enjoyed the guilty pleasures of Death Tunnel even with a so-so ending. Call me and the audience at the Phoenix Film Festival gluttons for punishment.
###
Scared Straight on Skid Row
Many years ago I had the unenviable task of being sent on location to downtown L.A. The area had been sectioned off for a shoot but that did not stop the residents from checking us out and letting us know we were invading their turf, which was not far from Skid Row. The place reeked of garbage, alcohol and urine. It was littered with beer cans and bottles; smut papers and magazines stuck together, half eaten food, and the human trash that occupied their favorite corners. It was an unsettling experience and I wanted get home as fast as possible and take a long hot shower afterwards.
The documentary, Skid Row, takes you where few have been and forces you to witness the ugly situation in a different light. This is not about answers nor is it a precautionary tale. Instead the producers and directors, Niva Dorell, Marshall Tyler and Ross Clarke, ask the viewers to take home a different perspective – these people are real with real problems that have never been addressed properly. Society has not only sectioned them off but has also cloaked them with invisibility. This documentary lifts the cloak and unveils the fragile and sad side of humanity. The fact is further hammered through the eyes of Pras Michel best known from the very successful hip-hop band The Fugees.
Pras accepts the unenviable task of living as a homeless person on Skid Row for nine days with nine dollars to his name followed by hidden cameras. Sometimes those cameras are not as well hidden which leads to uncomfortably dangerous situations. At first, this may sound like a bad realty show, but in fact it’s the type of realty that the general media shuns because it’s not considered harmless/mindless entertainment.
The documentary includes interviews with police and politicos but most genuine is the Director of Public Affairs for the Midnight Mission, Orlando Ward. His insight, heart and passion for what he does are nothing short of remarkable. Mr. Ward was once a resident of Skid Row and speaks from experience. The cameras may be following Pras but Mr. Ward is the turnkey of this jolting documentary. He draws you into the lives of these people and asks that you recognize them as human beings. If they come up to you and ask for money, he insists that ignoring them is far more damaging than denying them the change you may have in your pocket.
Pras discovers this early on and becomes resentful and glimpses what it’s like to be a non-person. This hip-hop star is thrown into the mix of prostitutes, drug dealers, addicts and people struggling just to survive the following day. This is a real life human drama in its darkest days. Writing about this does not do justice to living it like Pras or the rest of the residents on that 50 square block area in downtown Los Angeles.
The problems with Skid Row are exactly what make it such a powerhouse of raw emotions. The camera and sound work is all over the place at times but the options were few to capture the results of Pras’ odyssey. We are even treated to the problems with the hidden cameras and Pras. At one point, Pras takes us into an underground garage and has it out with the crew for not only endangering his life but possibly jeopardizing the whole shoot over a couple of not so discriminate shots.
The film reminds me of the famous 1980 documentary, Scared Straight, where convicts talked to troubled teens about prison life. That film changed a great many young lives for the better. It was shown in schools and aired during prime time for maximum effect. The same should be done with Skid Row. We, the audience, at the Phoenix Film Festival had to catch our breath after watching this powerful piece of work. When I relayed that to one of the producers, he hugged me and stated, “We can make a difference!” Yes, we can, if we address rather than ignore. See this film and have your young teens watch it with you. It will make a difference.
###
Up, Up and Away
Before The Flyboys started, one of the producers mentioned that they had already shopped the film to the majors and were turned down flat. Their hopes were now relying on festivals and minor distributors. What a shame. This film is a crowd pleaser even with its problems, which are minor, compared to some of the major CGI-ridden junk out there. In fact, that may be the only reason why they were not picked up. Imagine a film relying on story and not a slew of CGI. Perhaps if they had thrown in an ogre and a lightening bolt or two, Fox and Walden Media would have nabbed it even if it were sleep inducing, which The Flyboys is not.
It dashes about making you laugh and cheer while reminding you what it was like to be young again. It resembles a real good episode of Spielberg’s Amazing Stories. In fact, there happens to be a big early Spielberg influence throughout the film. The small rural area, the kids, the good-hearted and bad adults – even the soaring musical score that takes us into the unfriendly skies.
The movie starts off likeable as a fatherless young boy, Kyle, moves into town and defends another bullied young boy, Jason, with humor and smart fighting skills. Kyle tries to teach Jason how to stick up for himself even when the odds are against you. The two become fast friends and enjoy taking secret rides in the air with Jason’s uncle who is a pilot at a small airfield. The story is pure joy until things take a turn for the worse when the two boys accidentally stow away aboard an airplane with drastic results.
Here is where the problem lies, after a good 30 minutes of fun we are suddenly knee-jerked into a back-story explaining why the boys should have never gone near the plane. It’s owned by likeable mobster played by Tom Sizemore and is eventually sabotaged by his likeable loser brother played by Stephen Baldwin. Wait a minute, likeable and mobster do they really go together? Well, it did with The Sopranos, and Sizemore gets away with it a lot better than Baldwin. Not to say Baldwin is bad. He just does not fit in the suit as well as Sizemore. Sizemore plays a range of emotions and is believable for the most part. But the whole gangster back-story feels forced for the first ten minutes or so. Once we realize how this will affect our two young heroes it becomes more engaging, and the audience ends up eating it up with its faults anyway. I must mention this film contains one of the most thrilling aerial sequences I have seen in years.
I wish I had taken my kids to The Flyboys because I know they would have loved it and overlooked its problems. Of course, this is not for the discriminate viewer who prefers foreign films and meat with their drama. Some may complain it’s too schmaltzy, too silly, not believable, but that did not stop the audience I was with from cheering and applauding every phoned in moment. It even dares to elicit a touching tear or two.
Looking back, I cannot tell you how much more I appreciated this movie over some of the horrible boring messes I have taken my kids to. Mobsters with a heart beat out regurgitated CGI and a confusing story any day of the viewing week. If you liked taking your kids to Goonies or Monster Squad then come on board with The Flyboys.
Comments: 2 Comments
2 Responses to “Trailer Park: There Are No Nudie/Pastie Shots Of Megan Fox In This Article.”Leave a Reply |
May 21st, 2008 at 2:52 pm
damn…you didnt like knocked up or sarah marshall? your taste is seriously in question, my friend…
May 26th, 2008 at 4:15 pm
My taste is actually something that surprises even me from time to time. While I wasn’t a fan of KNOCKED UP or FORGETTING I am, perhaps, one of the greatest fans of SUPERBAD. I appreciate that movie in so many ways that I know I’m not averse to Aptow’s sensibility. I guess it just has to make it through my subcutaneous through the right way. Here’s to hoping that the PINEAPPLE EXPRESS manages to do just that.