Archive for the ‘Movies’ Category

Save Ferris?

March 7, 2013
Matthew Broderick at his most face punchiest

Matthew Broderick at his most face punchiest

I was flicking through channels a few nights ago when I stumbled upon ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. An old favourite, a John Hughes classic… I settled in for the ride and realised pretty quickly that something was… different. Peculiar. Odd.

Note: I’m about to examine the concept of ageing through a pop culture prism. Yes, it’s the way we examine everything else around here. Just know that you’ve been forewarned.

See, I know that FBDO is a movie that I’ve always enjoyed. I know this. But I’ve noticed, especially over the past few years, that as time goes by I find the character Ferris Bueller more and more insufferable with every viewing of the film.

He’s our hero! Everybody loves Ferris! The only people who don’t love Ferris are uptight dickwads, like his sister, who just needs to learn to relax (and embrace the love of a heroin addict, natch), and of course the evil Principal Ed Rooney (played by Jeffrey Jones, who was a) a ginger, and b) later became a registered juvenile sex offender – coincidence?). As Grace the school secretary tells us, Ferris is a righteous dude.

Except he’s not. He’s horrible! He’s completely selfish. Materialistic. Manipulative. Hedonistic. He’s an inch away from being a Sociopath really, an early incarnation of Gen-Y self-obsession (all he’s missing is the requisite iPhone, so that he could relentlessly document his day off on Twitter and Instagram).

Save Ferris? Fuck Ferris! Why won’t somebody save poor frigging Cameron!

Alright, so maybe I’m taking this too far. All I know is that I enjoy Matt Broderick’s mugging, smirking, ‘ain’t I somethin’ Ferris less and less with every viewing. And that, I think, is ALLLLLLL on me.

With every additional year I’m removed from my teens, I take one step farther away from Team Ferris. Am I now firmly planted in Team Jean/Shauna? Am I give or take 10 years or 2.5 kids away from being Team Mother f’n Rooney?

You're starting to really wonder why he was so hell bent on catching Ferris now, aren't you...

You’re starting to really wonder why he was so hell bent on catching Ferris now, aren’t you…

Am I getting too old for John Hughes?

You like to think that you’ll always be part of the Breakfast Club. But sooner or later maybe we all become Dick Vernon.

BreakfastClub

God I hope they’re not showing ‘Sixteen Candles’ anytime soon on TV… I don’t know that I could take it…

BPM

The Darkest Knight

March 5, 2013

‘BATMAN BRINGS IN SUSPECT TO BRADFORD POLICE’

Batman-1_2499194b

from BBC News

Because he’s the hero Britain deserves, not the hero it needs right now…

Apparently this guy was really just some dude named Stan (Stan?!?!) who was returning home from a football match that he’d attended in fancy dress, dropping a mate off at the police station.

He doesn’t REALLY think he’s Batman at all. He TOLD the police his NAME, for gods sake!

You don’t tell people your secret identity! That’s like rule number 1 of being Batman: Don’t tell people who you really are!

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Unless… you know… you’ve stopped being Batman for 8 years for whatever reason…

Then feel free to tell every single person you meet for the next couple of months that you’re Batman.

So wait... I SHOULDN'T invite all these people back for drinks back at Wayne Manor? They won't make that connection, right?

So wait… I SHOULDN’T invite all these people back for drinks back at Wayne Manor? They won’t make that connection, right?

See how that works out.

Right, Chris Nolan?

Yup. I’m still bitter.

BPM

Oscars 2013: The Write Stuff

February 26, 2013

Oscars 2013 Daniel Day-Lewis Jennifer Lawrence Anne Hathaway Christoph Waltz

So, another Oscar night done and dusted. And what have we really learned?

Seth McFarlane? Likes boobs, singing, self. Dislikes Hollywood, women.

‘Argo’? Fun, American as Apple Pie, directed by a ghostly presence whose reflection only appears in a mirror when you say his name three times.

Jennifer Lawrence? Adorable, falleded over.

‘Lincoln’? So worthy that it’s TOO worthy for the Oscars (at least that’s what Stevey’s muttering as he cries himself to sleep, his head buried in his pillow stuffed with $100 bills).

Meryl Streep? Does not need to even open an envelope, has earned the right to decide winning nominees for herself.

‘Chicago’? Apparently the musical of our generation (incidentally, last night’s Oscars were produced by Craig Zadan and Neil Meron, who also produced… ‘Chicago’. Oscars tribute to the Musicals, and two separate tributes to ‘Chicago’ kinda makes sense now, huh?).

Anne Hathaway? Has Manic Pixie Twitter Nipples.

But the key takeaway for me?

Was that the Oscars once again reinforced that harshest of truths about actors and actresses – they are incandescent creatures. Winners of the genetic lottery, owners of an ethereal beauty beyond most mortals.

But without a gifted writer to put words in their mouths for them, they more oft than not are incapable of stringing together an interesting sentence.

And yet screenwriters remain eternally unappreciated at these shows. An example? Chris Terrio won Best Adapted Screenplay for ‘Argo’, and the only recognition of any kind I saw him receive from most mainstream media outlets was a) mentioning that he has a passing resemblance to ‘Stifler’ himself, Sean William Scott, and b) that he was an undeserving winner because the ‘Argo’ script lacked real depth.

Wait… what? So ‘Argo’ was, by most accounts, a popular ‘Best Picture’ winner. Alan Arkin was nominated for Best Supporting Actor. People are STILL upset about Ben Affleck not being nominated for Best Director. But the screenplay was not especially well written?

Wow. So the cast and crew just turned up each morning and made up on the fly that day’s shooting pages, huh? Affleck directed an empty page, Arkin obviously made up all of his dialogue, and Clooney produced a $45 million film based on a stack of 120-odd pieces of bound, blank paper.

With that all being said, Academy Awards 2013: We Out.

Only 364 days to wait until Tina & Amy.

I wonder if they’ll sing a song about boobs too…

BPM

I find your lack of faith… yadayadayada

February 12, 2013

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Pope Benedict XVI resigns his position as head of the papacy. The Catholic Church is left reeling. World is shocked.

Internet explodes.

And yet, in the past month alone the internets has exploded MULTIPLE times… over the Grammy’s, a blackout at the Superbowl, whether Beyonce lip-syncs or not, the news that JJ Abrams will control the hearts and minds of both Star Wars AND Trek fans, and the revelation that every professional athlete anywhere is probably maybe taking something…

24 hour news cycle, baby.

My tip for the next biggest news story of all time?

Beyonce is elected the next Pope, but only after a power failure at Vatican City means the papal conclave is forced to release fake white smoke from their chimneys. The smoke is later revealed to contain traces of HGH, Beyonce resigns after a week in disgrace, only to then be cast as both Lieutenant Uhura in the next Star Trek film and the ass-kicking descendent of Mace Windu in Star Wars episodes 7-9.

The force is... umm... strong? With this one?

The force is… umm… strong? With this one?

And even THAT’S only gonna tide us over for a week. At best.

Wake me when the zombie apocalypse finally happens, won’t you? Now THAT’S news.

BPM

 

SchwarzeneggAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

February 5, 2013

Range…

Ah-nuld’s got it, bitches.

BPM

That’s no moon…

January 17, 2013

death-star-1200

Gun control, gun control, gun control. Definitely a hot button topic in the States these days.

Turns out not only is the Obama administration in favour of tighter controls on semi-automatic weapons, NOW they’re refusing to build the ultimate in weapons technology.

Pussies…

You see, a petition was raised in America recently, and apparently any petition that garners over 25,000 signatures can officially be presented to the U.S government.

The petition in question?

‘To secure resources and funding, and begin construction of a Death Star by 2016’.

You can read the official response from the White House here, but in the meantime they listed 3 reasons as to why they won’t be pursuing construction anytime soon, which are:

  • The construction of the Death Star has been estimated to cost more than $850,000,000,000,000,000. We’re working hard to reduce the deficit, not expand it.
  • The Administration does not support blowing up planets.
  • Why would we spend countless taxpayer dollars on a Death Star with a fundamental flaw that can be exploited by a one-man starship?

Suck it, NRA.

BPM

The Gotham High… Goths?

November 23, 2012

Because it’s not such a huge leap to go from this…

from Nerdist.com

To a carefully edited four and a half minute mash-up, featuring almost every star of the Nolan-verse in a handful of your favourite teeny-bopper films…

Nice.

I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for any upcoming big budget flicks starring Larisa Oleynik as the female lead though.

Ahh 1999… it seemed like you were but yesterday…

BPM

The Rock…

November 2, 2012

Halloween… he wins it.

BPM

On Michael Clarke Duncan, and Movie Hindsight

September 7, 2012

I was saddened this week to hear the news that actor Michael Clarke Duncan passed away, due to ongoing complications from a heart attack he suffered over a month ago. He was 54.

In an acting career that lasted ostensibly for less than 15 years, MCD starred in a wiiiiddddeeee variety of both high quality flicks and classic crap. Amongst the former? ‘The Green Mile’, ‘Sin City’, ‘Bulworth’, ‘Talladega Nights’ & ‘The Scorpion King’ (a real guilty pleasure of mine).

Amongst the latter? Well, there was ‘Daredevil’, ‘Green Lantern’, Burton’s ‘Planet of the Apes’ remake, ‘The Island’ and… well… pretty much anything starring Bruce Willis.

Friendship… it’s a double-edged sword sometimes

The one common thread to most everything I ever read about Duncan off-screen was that he was the archetypical ‘gentle giant’, and a quality human being. I’m not going to lionize Duncan’s acting ability or screen presence. But, thanks to THAT voice, and his size, Duncan was invariably at the very least fun to watch, a surprisingly underrated quality in a movie star these days when you stop to think about it.

Ironically I’d been thinking just several days before he passed about ‘The Green Mile’, and about 2 other performers in that flick, Tom Hanks and Doug Hutchison.

I remember eagerly awaiting ‘The Green Mile’ before its cinematic release. I was (and remain) a huge Stephen King fan, and had loved ‘The Shawshank Redemption’. So when I heard Frank Darabont was adapting the latest King novella, you better believe I was there on opening day.

Literally opening day. 10:30am on a Thursday morning, to be precise (ahhh, to be a University student again, with less than 12 contact hours per week…). Whatever misgivings I may have had about a) seeing the film alone, and b) seeing it in a cinema with less than 5 other people, were quickly dispelled as I immersed myself in the story of Paul Edgecombe, the giant John Coffey (like the drink, only spelled different), and the 2 dead girls…

To me it remains, to this day, a movie forgotten by the moviegoing public far too quickly. Well cast, with some decent (if a little Oscar baity), actor-ing including a breakout performance by Duncan. A calmly paced, sprawling script. Interesting direction. Sure, it’s not the life affirming classic Shawshank is, but the prison period-piece is still a well worth revisiting by Darabont.

Having said that, one of the most memorable parts of that film is the loathsome prison warden, Percy Whitmore. Whitmore, compellingly played by a relative unknown (at the time) Doug Hutchison, is a cruel cowardly man, trading in on his family connections to keep his job at the Green Mile (death row in a Louisiana prison in the 30’s). After the flick however, Hutchison was rarely seen, his most notable acting role in the ensuing years being a short-term role in one of the latter series’ of ‘Lost’.

I just assumed that maybe Hutchison had been too effective in his role as the Green Mile’s antagonist, that he was forever typecast as the creep, the petty scumbag.

And then there was this…

That’s right… Doug Hutchison, freaky weirdo from ‘The Green Mile’, is THAT GUY, the 51-year-old dude that married 16-year-old (coughcough) wannabe starlet Courtney Stodden.

News broke this week that now that Courtney has turned 18 (coughcough), she was willing to pose for Playboy! To which Playboy responded, and I quote, “Nobody really wants to see that”.

BAM! PLAYBOY ZING!

Perhaps in Doug’s eyes, appearing in TMZ with this prematurely withering, ditzy, spray tanned, peroxidal crone once a week means that he’s once again relevant in Hollywood. Sigh… and at what cost relevancy, say I.

At around the same time as Doug’s latest fame-crazy facepalm, Tom Hanks was reaffirming for the world why he’s more beloved than Santa Claus, rainbows, and a basket of playful kittens COMBINED!

Hanks went viral after a young man asked him to pose for a series of photos in a restaurant, where he pretended to steal Tommy’s glasses. What followed…

Only served…

To remind us…

That Hanks’ everyman appeal shall never wane.

How to tie all this together?

Well, after hearing of Duncan’s untimely passing, I did what many a movie-geek would do – I sought out his most notable performance, and slapped the disc into my DVD player for a reminder of how we lost a talented individual way too soon.

But…

I soon found it virtually impossible to divorce my knowledge of 2012 celeb-u-tainment from a movie I’d previously enjoyed. Even the twin doses of MCD mourning and Hanksian charm weren’t enough to quell the revulsion I have for a man and his ‘child’ bride (coughcough) so desperately clawing at the underbelly of Hollywood’s D-list.

Which is strange, because as distracting as ‘Stoddison’ (you’re welcome, tabloids) is, is Hutchison any worse than… say… Charlie Sheen? Because I can still watch ‘Major League’ without picturing Charlie beating/shooting the female team owner. I can still watch ‘Grease’ without conjuring up images of Danny Zucco twisting Kenickie’s arm for a deep tissue massage. I never once imagined Batman losing his shit at Lucious Fox over the key lighting in Wayne Towers during ‘Dark Knight Rises’, and I’m pretty sure I’ve sat all the way through ‘The Terminator’ without making an inappropriate ‘Target Acquired: Latina Maid’ joke to The Wife.

And yet I legitimately cannot watch ‘Mean Girls’ without being distracted by the human shipwreck that is Lindsay Lohan. I cannot giggle at Michael Richards OTT entrances in any given ‘Seinfeld’ repeat. And I cannot suspend disbelief long enough to separate Percy Whitmore the villain from Doug Hutchison the… well…

Probably coulda just posted this picture and saved myself about 600 words, huh…

Why should one scandal weigh more heavily upon my psyche than another? Why should Lindsay’s slow, Winehousian descent be more distracting to me than Ah-nuld’s transgressions? Am I making unconscious, moral judgements? Am I on some level condoning Sheen’s ‘alleged’ physical abuse of (multiple) women, but condemning vacuous fame-whoring? Does this make me no better than the billions of ‘Two & a Half Men’ fans out there?

Ughhh… too much to ponder. I just wanted to watch a Tom Hanks movie featuring a ‘magical negro‘ character (conceived by a white writer, natch), death by electric chair, and an unnaturally long-lived mouse. 

So thanks, Doug… that’s one more neuroses to clutter up my brain, and one more DVD gathering dust and just taking up valuable space in my collection.

Which isn’t to say I gave up altogether on celebrating Duncan’s life in my own, small way…

Because hey… any day you manage to find time to watch The Rock and MCD motherflippin’ sword fight whilst simultaneously rocking some seriously bad-ass hair extensions… that, my friends, is a good day.

Which is my ridiculously long-winded way of saying you will be truly missed, Mr. Duncan.

And eat a bag of dicks, Mr. Hutchison.

BPM

You know what would make this scene even funnier? OR the most pointless BPM post EVER!

September 5, 2012

Finally got some down time this weekend, so I settled in to watch ‘Wanderlust’.

For those of you who may have missed it, it’s a comedy starring Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston. A one-sentence pitch? “What if two inner city yuppies threw it all in and moved into a hippie commune?” Another one-sentence pitch? “What if Jennifer Aniston finally took her top off in a movie, but we blurred out her bosoobies?”

That’s right – neither of us appear to be particularly happy with the blurrage

Totally serviceable movie. Not hysterically funny, but worth my 90 minutes. I was willing to give it a chance because it’s from the same writer/director team that gave us ‘Role Models’, and features a bunch of their buddies from classic comedy series ‘The State’. One of whom is comedic character actor Joe Lo Truglio.

Joe’s had small roles in a bunch of movies the past few years, like ‘Superbad’, ‘Paul’, ‘I Love You, Man’ & ‘Role Models’. In this flick, he plays a nudist novelist (say that 3 times fast) named Wayne…

That’s right, eyes up Rudd…

… whose penis we see throughout the film repeatedly.

That it’s apparently a prosthetic makes no difference to this little black duck. As I sat there, trying not to stare at the Lo Truglio Monster, I could only think of one thing (yes, only one, I promise).

And that was that this is all Jason Segel’s fault.

Behold – a pictorial example of my desire to prove a point being overwhelmed by my refusal to post any more nudity on this site.

Yes, you Segel! You are your dangler in the first 5 minutes of ‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’ started this comedy revolution! Since then I’ve been smacked across the face (METAPHORICALLY) with Jason Mewes’ junk in ‘Zack & Miri Make a Porno’, by Jason Biggs’ big’un in ‘American Reunion’, by Ken Jeong’s wang in ‘The Hangover’, and by Sasha Baron Cohen’s dicktator in… well… ‘The Dictator’.

All used to varying degrees of comic effect, sure. But still… really guys*???

One thing that all of these movies have in common is that they were all, of course, written and directed by men. Women have known for centuries about men and their obsession with dick jokes. It’s only now they can actually film them, put them up on the big screen in a mainstream commercial flick, and receive an MA rating, at worst.

Cocks on film… the 21st century take on the filmic fart joke.

That’s right, menfolk – we now live in an age where female nudity is carefully and tastefully obscured in movies, whilst where every second dumb comedy thrusts a dick and balls at us!

So to speak.

What is happppeeennniiinnngggg!??!?!?! Up is down! Black is White!

Overall crudity quotient -9%, funny animal quotient +13%

I may sound like I’m over-reacting now… but wait until this stuff permeates other movie genres. You ain’t gonna be laughing when Captain America and Iron Man literally have a dick-measuring contest in ‘Avengers 2’. Or maybe you will. I don’t know. Seems Robert Downey Jnr is a good enough actor to make anything work on screen these days.

I foresee the not too distant future, a day where I’m either a) running down the middle of the street screaming ala ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ (no, not the shit Nicole Kidman one), or b) ranting Charlton Heston-style…

…yelling “It’s Dicks! Modern Comedy is Dicks! You have to believe me!”

I’m ranting now, aren’t I? My high school Career Counsellor always said I’d end up unemployable, shamelessly ripping off old sci-fi movies in lieu of coming up with solid writing ideas of my own.

Well played, Miss Dobson.

Until next time kids, keep it clean and keep it in your pants.

I mean… keep your comedy… uhh… that is to say… not that you shouldn’t clean your… because obviously you should always… umm…

Oh, forget it.

BPM

* For the record – my tip for the next cinematic comedy todger flash? Russell Brand. Has to be, right?