Motley Queue: Inside My Netflix Queue

Taken

2009-11-06T10:39:00.000-08:00

Somehow I missed this movie completely when it came out a year or so ago. I probably dismissed it as just another crappy pseudo-thriller but I have to give Taken some props. It was really enjoyable...right up to the end where it kind of tanked for me. More on that below.

In Taken, Neeson plays a down-on-his luck former government agent whose daughter is kidnapped from her “I’m a rich white girl following U2 all summer” European tour to be presumably sold into a human sex trafficking ring. Neeson’s Bryan Mills kicks into high gear to cunningly find and take down every person involved in the kidnapping of his daughter.

Taken is a formula thriller but somehow it worked for me. Maybe it was because there was no dramatic “reveal” of the bad guy. We know pretty much from the start who it is and we just get to sit back and watch Liam Neeson kick ass and take names until he finds him.

What works for the film is how much I have a huge crush on Liam Neeson, making me blind to any fault he might have in acting, and blind to many faults in the script. Also, there’s a lot of good fighting and vanquishing of bad guys that makes it fun to watch.

What’s bad? Well, here goes…
1. His daughter? Seriously, that was some horrific acting. Like every time she ran to give her dad or mom a hug it resembled a five-year-old running to a giant lollipop. SEVENTEEN-YEAR-OLD-GIRLS DO NOT RUN LIKE THAT. Ever. And they hate their parents. They scowl. There is a good deal of eye rolling. They don’t make goofy arms-out-flappy-legs-dances up to their mommies.

2. Mills’ ex-wife, played by Famke Jannsen. Her character was trite, poorly written and about as formulaic as it can get. She was upset that her daughter was kidnapped! No! I can’t believe it!

3. The ending. Oh, Taken. You had me right up until the end. I don’t want to give anything away but let’s just say that the ending was full of body count and not so full of dialogue. It just wrapped up so abruptly I felt like we never go the chance to feel very vanquished. And then that goddamn daughter did another one of those goofy runs and I just had to shut the whole thing off. It’s a good thing Liam Neeson is so incredibly, terribly dashing or I might have hated it.

Away We Go

2009-11-02T06:54:00.000-08:00

Away We Go is one of those movies that feels like it’s a studio movie masquerading as an independent film. More polished than a true indy – too rough to be Hollywood. Unfortunately, it falls into the trap of being a melancholy movie with an interesting soundtrack and not much else happening for the whole damn film -- except a lot of eloquent conversations that real people never have.

The film centers on a young, driftless couple who find themselves pregnant and in search of a place to call home. The movie follows them on a vast road trip where they audition cities in which to lay down roots. Along the way, we meet an amusing cast of characters who steal the show from the drab, chemistry-challenged leads, Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski [who plays Jim from The Office with a scruffier beard. What a marvel of costuming!]

That being said, Away we Go is enjoyable and is probably worth watching for Maggie Gyllenhaal’s insanely crunchy-granola-toddler-breastfeeding-hippie mama character alone. If you’ve ever encountered one of those family-bed fascists in your own life, you will squeal with delight at how pompous and self-righteous she is. "Do you plan to hide your lovemaking from your children?" she asks Maya Rudolph with an air of implied reproach when she questions how they all sleep in one bed together. Another notable cameo is Allison Janney who is just terrific as usual playing a loudmouthed, booze-soaked cougar. She’s dynamite. Go rent it, you’ll enjoy it.

Tyson

2009-09-25T08:11:00.000-07:00

Sit down.
Are you there?
Because I have an announcement:

Mike Tyson is going to melt your cold, dark heart.

Don’t believe me? Then sit through this new documentary, Tyson. I promise you that you’ll find your heart filling with gooey Mike Tyson mush.

Mike Tyson isn’t easy to love – for most of my life I considered him just one step above a housetrained animal. After all, this was boxing’s bad boy who attacked his opponents with brutal ferocity, bit his rivals and raped women on the side. The Tyson documentary is a chance to look behind the headlines and understand what fueled Mike to make the choices he did.

He is so incredibly candid, humble and reflective in this documentary that you can’t help but find yourself in his proverbial corner. In talking about the tabloid frenzy that was his marriage to Robin Givens, Tyson sagely reminds us that in the end, they were just kids who didn’t have any business being married so young (age 20!).

Consisting only of direct interviews with Tyson and intermixed with photos and footage of his career, Tyson traces his blazing rise and furious descent from fame and glory. And I mean nothing is held back. He speaks about his personal life and his professional life with complete candor. All the machismo and charisma is stripped away and he doesn’t shy away from any subject, even coming to tears a few times and discussing the inherent fear that drove him to many of his bad decisions. And dare I say it; he speaks with great intelligence and even eloquence at points.

Although, I did do a double-take at one point when discussing his alleged rape of Desiree Washington (which he still denies), Mike said something to the effect of, “I’m not saying I never took advantage of other women, but I did not take advantage of her.”

Pause…
Head whip…
Did he just admit that he raped other women? Or maybe he just like drank milk out of their refrigerators while they were sleeping?

Hmmm….

In the end, I walked away feeling like Mike Tyson The Famous Boxer is now Mike Tyson The Very Humbled and Damaged Person. I for one am rooting for a second chance.

Gran Torino

2009-09-18T08:31:00.000-07:00

First of all, Gran Torino is a car, not a desert city in California like I believed it was for some unknown reason.

Second, you will spend the first hour of this movie wondering if Clint Eastwood lost his mind in some sort of Geriatric Dirty Harry bout of dementia. There is no other way to explain the great lengths he goes to in order to demonstrate FOR AN ENTIRE HOUR that his character Walt Kowalski is:
a) Old
b) Codgety
c) Racist
d) Prone to facial twitches
I think we pretty much had that nailed down in the first five minutes of the film, Mr. Eastwood.

Third, you will think the second hour of the film is a complete turnaround. It was completely redeemed for me, although I did find it a bit hard to believe that Eastwood's surly Walt Kowalski would so easily befriend his Asian neighbors, Sue and Thao. Still, there are a lot of touching moments and the end truly surprised me, although I was kind of jonesing for a true Dirty Harry-takes-down-the-bad-guys bloodletting.

Finally, you will be amazed that anyone let Clint Eastwood walk in front of a camera wearing sweatpants pulled up to his armpits. That's Dirty Harry y'all. Someone should have put a stop to that.

And we're back among the living

2009-09-16T09:12:00.000-07:00

What a summer it's been for our beloved TV. Here's what we did in a nutshell:

LOVED HBO's TrueBlood. Like I-AM-A-TOTAL-NERD-FOR-VAMPIRES loved it. Hot southern gentleman vampire? You can't go wrong with that. Sure, the first few episode are a little vamporny, but I still love it.

HATED HBO's The Tudors and Rome. Oh, wanted to love them. Tried to love them. But had to admit they just suck. Here's an example: in The Tudors, all the drama and intrigue surrounds whether or not King Henry will leave Catherine of Aragon for Ann Boleyn. Um, excuse me, but WE ALREADY KNOW HOW THIS ENDS. You are just telling a history lesson here. And not very well. As for Rome, well, it's just a little too 'old men wearing dresses and talking politics' for me.

WATCHED a fabulous documentary on steroids, Bigger, Stronger, Faster. Very entertaining. Also watched a devastating documentary, Dear Zachary. It's decent, but I'm telling you, you don't want to see this. It will make you weep. Dead children. 'Nuff said.

BECAME ADDICTED TO Mad Men. Right? I know, we're possibly the last people on earth who work in advertising to watch this show, and we should have our membership revoked for taking so long. All the same, I died when Betty Draper didn't bat an eyelash at her daughter playing inside a plastic drycleaning bag. My mom did the same thing. Props, Betty.

EH could have done without both Slumdog Millionaire (predictable and cloying) and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (shades of Forest Gump all over it and we don't need another Forest Gump). Did I mention BB is approximately 14 hours long?

The Queue is Taking a Hiatus

2009-06-23T08:14:00.000-07:00

Hi Readers, sorry it's been so long since my last post but a lot has been afoot at the Queue household. New job. New baby. New sleepless nights. We're still watching movies but between the screaming toddler and the constantly-feeding newborn, I'm calling myself lucky if I manage to walk out to get the mail every day.

I'll return, I promise, and in the mean time:
-Liked but didn't love The Wrestler
-Found Revolutionary Road predictable and such a bummer
-Loved the documentary Bigger, Stronger, Faster
-Tried watching In Treatment but found it tedious and just couldn't commit
-Am about to watch the first disc of True Blood and am really excited for it in a dorky vampire sort of way

Cheers!

Ricky Gervais: Out of England

2009-05-13T11:09:00.001-07:00

A rule to live by: when Ricky Gervais does a comedy special, rent it.
Sincerely,
Motley Queue

Milk

2009-05-11T09:57:00.001-07:00

Well now, the American Dairy Association is going to be unpleasantly surprised when they watch this tribute film.

Tee, hee. All jokes aside, it's no surprise that Milk is a good film. It was nominated for a slew of awards and Sean Penn is obviously terrific in it. I'm pretty sure Sean Penn is terrific when he trims his toenails or pays his utility bills, so it's hard to be bowled over by his performances any more, right? It's like putting A-Rod up to bat. You're pretty safe to go get a hot dog because you know the team's in good hands.

It's easy to admire Penn's charismatic portrayal of the first openly gay public office holder, Harvey Milk. But did I love the movie itself? Love might be a strong word. It's really good, but it doesn't evolve beyond the trappings of a biopic, trying to cram so much history into so little film and make us understand the person's soul at the same time. The latter is where the movie really failed for me.

Maybe that's because the tableau of characters surround Harvey Milk felt stereotyped and trite, as if director Gus Van Sant threw them in because he needed them to be there, not because he really wanted to pay them any attention. Look at me, I'm the hysterically unpredictable foreign boyfriend! Look at me, I'm the wisecracking lesbian campaign manager!

I never found myself engaging with any of the supporting cast, with the exception of Josh Brolin, who absolutely seethes in every scene (as one would expect the stepson of Barbra Streisand to do very well, zing!). He's like a pile of twitching electrical cables just inches from a pool of water. Watching his character slowly unwind iis the real pleasure of watching Milk.

Let the Right One In

2009-05-06T06:37:00.000-07:00

Okay all you Swedish film fans...

[Insert cricket noises here]

Okay, so there aren't many of you out there, but don't fret. Let the Right One In was my first Swedish film too, coming on the recommendation of former coworker, Meredith, who has never led me astray. She was right once again, this movie is a winner.

Shot in the winter and set in Stockholm, the film's cold and desolate locales are the perfect setting for the spare and harrowing tale. The plot revolves around 12-year-old Oskar, whose awkwardness and loneliness make him the frequent target of school bullies. Oskar is painfully Swedish looking: white-blonde hair, red-rimmed rheumy eyes and skin so pale it appears translucent. He has what is either the worst haircut on the planet, or a look that is really cool in Sweden. I can't tell which, but I'm betting on the former.

Oskar reluctantly befriends a mysterious gypsy-like girl in his apartment building, Eli, whom we later discover is no ordinary child. Are you ready for it? Okay, she's a vampire -- but don't jump to conclusions -- this is no Hollywood-style vampire movie, although there is a fun amount of gore and destruction. This is a sorrowful, lonely tale of a vampire child seeking simple understanding and love from another human being. A romance develops between Oksar and Eli as she teaches him to defend himself and he helps her feel a connection to the normal world. Their friendship takes center stage over Eli's darker needs.

There are a few grisly scenes in the film and a couple of lame special effects but on the whole, this is a refreshingly spare hand to the filming, letting us anticipate the impending danger, rather than showering us in a Hollywood gore-fest.

Do yourself a favor and watch the movie with both the English-dubbed audio AND the English subtitles on. They are hilariously mismatched, like this:

Oskar's audio: "I don't think so."
Oskar's subtitle: "Please do not consider my answer to be yes."

Ha, ha, ha. It goes on and on....we couldn't get enough of it.

Rachel Getting Married

2009-04-20T06:32:00.000-07:00

It's hard to tell if the point of Rachel Getting Married is to make you feel the turmoil of a recovering drug addict attempting to rejoin her family or to make you feel like every wedding you've ever attended was completely lame.

RGM stars Anne Hathaway as Kim, a drug addict released from her latest stint in rehab just in time to join the final preparations before her older sister's wedding. Kim's family inhabits one of those shabbily wealthy sprawling old Victorian homes in Connecticut. The kind filled with cozy furniture and expansive wrap-around porches that make it hard to believe a Waspy drug addict could live there. In fact, we never learn how Kim became a drug addict, just that she did and made a mess of herself and her family including one tragic accident that created an irreparable rift in the family, which I won't spoil for you here.

Despite the tragedy, Rachel's family itself is a paragon of feel-goodiness, including her overly attentive father (who is played by Mister Noodle's Brother on Sesame Street!), her Mother Earth stepmother and her straight-arrow older sister Rachel. We watch as Kim tries to insert herself in Rachel's wedding weekend, resulting in awkward, painful interactions in which Kim can't seem to stop stealing the spotlight from her sister and crowing "but look at me, I'm the addict!" It succeeds mightily in making you feel the same discomfort and anger at Kim as her family does.

Anne Hathaway got a ton of buzz about her role in this film and deservedly so. She ain't no Princess here, at turns painfully endearing and shamelessly raw. Her transparent skin and bloomy eyes make her perfectly suited to play a fragile soul teetering on the edge of a precipice between suburban propriety and gritty addiction. She's perfectly matched with her wounded mother, played by Debra Winger. Yes, that Debra Winger from Urban Cowboy.

The only off-notes of the film come from the wedding itself, which we follow in deep detail from rehearsal through reception. Rachel is marrying a man from....somewhere tropical? Or African? I can't tell. He wears unfortunate glasses, but everyone seems to think he's too swell to care.

He's a musician and so the house is dripping at every moment with a hodgepodge of ethnically diverse musicians playing at all hours of the day. The wedding itself is a multicultural, Bohemian stewpot of reggae singers, someone I think was a monk and one girl who I'm pretty sure was a singer from American Idol (Tamyra Gray, if my eyes don't deceive). The whole wedding feels like the "Teach the World to Sing" Coca Cola commercial. And it's almost as sugary.

It's a bit hard to swallow all the ethnically diverse love and energy pouring in great quantities from every scene of the wedding party. Where were the boring old people complaining the chicken was too dry? Where was the drunken uncle who gets a little handsy after too many gin rickeys? Do they not know about the chicken dance in Connecticut?!!!!! Sorry, but the crowd was just a little too perfectly diverse and in love with one another to be altogether believable.

Otherwise, this is a smart little film filled with a great deal of emotion and earnest pain. Kim's plight is raw and transparent, and as a viewer, you're pulled fully into the complex emotions her family has for her. You want to root for Kim, but you want to slap her too. Just like real family.

Role Models

2009-04-06T05:17:00.000-07:00

Sigh.

Approximately 37 people have been hounding me to watch Role Models, swearing that I will DIE, literally DIE laughing. "It's exactly like Knocked Up." "It's even better than 40-Year-Old-Virgin." This is what they tell me.

Which leads me to the question, Role Models?

The one starring Paul Rudd and -- finger quotes -- "actor" Sean William Scott? I respectfully disagree. It just wasn't that funny, guys. Sorry, but it wasn't. Sure, it had a few laughs but for the most part, I found myself leaning forward hopefully on the sofa waiting for the story to kick in. Any moment, I kept thinking. Right up until the end. Sigh.

Let's talk about what works first: Paul Rudd. Is there a more lovable actor in film today? You can't not like Paul Rudd. Men want to be him. Women want to date him. He's just adorable. And he's funny. But one thing he's not, and it pains me to say this, Paul, is a screenwriter. Rudd co-wrote this movie, and it shows, filled with slow, sophomoric plot developments, predictable jokes and tame attempts at envelope-pushing.

The set-up for the plot is incredibly long and drawn out: two guys have an implausible screw-up at work and have to perform community service mentoring young boys to avoid jail time as a result. Trust me, it's a painful road to get there, especially when it's so obvious where the plot is heading all along.

Surprise, surprise, the young mentees assigned to Rudd and Scott are an unpredictable and unruly lot, leading to loads of hijinx for our two heroes. Wait...it's all totally predictable and if you can't see the ultimate resolution (the boys grow to love their mentors!), you need to schedule an optometry appointment post haste.

But what's even worse than the script and the plot is Sean William Scott. HOW IS THIS GUY GETTING WORK? He is not an actor. He is a frat boy. He's the dude who's so talentless that his dad gets him a job in his company even though he can barely manage to make copies of his butt on the copy machine.

I imagine that Sean William Scott shares an apartment somewhere in Hollywood with Vin Diesel and Ashlee Simpson and they just sit around and laugh, laugh, laugh themselves silly about how people pay money to watch them. Then Vin Diesel gets his foot stuck in the toaster AGAIN and Sean and Ashlee try to help him but they got lost on the way there because they can't remember how to operate the doors to the living room (push, not pull!), so they forget about Vin and instead spend the afternoon staring in wonder at the light switch.

Something like that.

Pineapple Express

2009-04-01T07:53:00.000-07:00

As a rule, I am not a fan of stoner humor. Nothing against it; it's just never tickled me fancy. Cheech & Chong? Harold & Kumar? Eh. I just can't find a way to be interested. So I was a little apprehensive about Pineapple Express, which for the uninitiated, is a true stoner comedy about a pleasantly even-keeled stoner, Dale, played by Seth Rogen, and his eccentric dealer, Saul, played by James Franco, who get accidentally wrapped up in a chase escapade after witnessing a murder.

To my surprise, the Stoner Comedy 101 scenes of Dale and Saul waxing ineloquent in slow-motion, smoke-filled highs were few and far between. Thank god. I'd rather watch paint dry. This was much more of a silly action movie than I ever expected. The funniest scenes in the movie had to involve Saul's dealer, Red, played by Danny McBride -- who is one part Steven Seagal wannabe, one part needy housecat. Red gets beat up, shot and stabbed about a dozen times and just keeps showing up in future scenes like a chubby, mullet-wearing version of the Terminator.

I also loved the duo's pursuer, played by Craig Robinson, whom you're more likely to recognize as warehouse foreman Darryl from The Office. In Pineapple, he's a merciless killer who will crack you up with his very delicate emotions ready to burst forth at any moment.

The plot is predictable, familiar and takes way too long...two-hour-run-time too long. Some of the ancillary characters, like Rosie Perez as a dirty cop and a band of Chinese drug dealers, seem like afterthoughts, but do serve to add small doses of humor here and there. I could have done without the extended and very predictable fight scenes at the end of the film, although it was fun to watch chubby Seth Rogen try to fistfight.

Would I recommend Pineapple? I guess so...but certainly not as a gateway drug to a future appreciation of stoner flicks.

Changeling

2009-03-12T12:27:00.001-07:00

First of all, I couldn't help but snicker at the description on the back of the Netflix envelope referring to "Ace director, Clint Eastwood." Who wrote that? An old-timey journalist from 1938? Ace director! He's the cat's pajamas!

Don't get me wrong, if anyone deserves the Ace title, it's Eastwood. The man delivers a good film and Changeling is no exception. Although, if anything in this film, his directing is so spartan and unembellished that you won't even notice it. I guess I'm saying that even a tool like Bruckheimer probably couldn't have screwed up this material: the story is that good. We loved watching it.

Changeling follows the true story of 1920's Los Angeles mom, Christine Collins, as she battles police corruption to find her missing son, Walter. The LAPD, facing horrible public image problems, brings Christine's son back to her, but she's convinced it's not her son. When Collins tries to make public the fact that the LAPD returned the wrong kid, she quickly finds herself staying at a mental institution on police orders.

A legal team headed up by anti-LAPD preacher, played by John Malkovich (who is just so good at being preachy, let's be honest) and a shark of an attorney come to the rescue of Collins and attempt to mount a strike at the LAPD. But what makes the movie really compelling is the co-story of the alleged murderer, Gordon Northcott, accused of murdering 20 boys, Walter Collins among them. Northcott's scenes are riveting and his madness is chilling.

Collins is played by Angelina Jolie. Now, I will be the first to admit that she's a good actress and she handled the role with skill. But I couldn't help but feel like she's just too physically striking to make this role believable. Draped in face-framing clothes and brilliantly rich make-up, she looked stunning...too stunning. The camera loves her face but it's so distinct that it distracts you from the character.

At no point was I unaware that I was watching Angelina Jolie, not Christine Collins. I could only imagine how powerful the role would have been in less facially-captivating hands (that is a nice way of saying "not so pretty"). Forgive me, but I'm thinking Frances McDormand here.

My favorite character in the film was Collins' lawyer. For the life of me, I can't figure out who the actor is (why have you forsaken me, IMDB?) but I've seen him in other roles and he's superb in this film. He'll make you want to love your lawyer. I'll refer to him henceforth as "Ace Actor Portraying a Lawyer."

The Reader

2009-03-09T11:10:00.000-07:00

"I nailed Kate Winslet. And I still wear Underoos."

Hurrah for babysitters! Friends Marcie and Beth kindly offered to watch the wee one so Motley Husband and I could sneak off for a matinee on Saturday, which for anyone with a toddler, is something akin to being given the keys to your own private island. I know, a matinee might sound boring to you, but trust me, two hours of relative relaxation that don't involve a short person whining at you to read the 37th installment of Dora the Explorer is pure bliss.

So, we showed up to our local megaplex on the hopes of just finding something playing around the time we arrived that didn't involve the words Paul, Blart, Mall or Cop.

Check. The Reader with Kate Winslet was starting in five minutes.

We grabbed a giant vat of popcorn and loaded it with butter (more on that later...) and settled in for what I can only describe as the creepiest love story I've ever seen.

The Reader is set in post-war Germany and is told through the perspective of a fifteen year-old-boy who befriends a much older woman, Hanna Schmitz (played by Winslet), on a chance encounter in the street. The two eventually become lovers and "the Kid" reads to Schmitz at each of their liaisons. It's like a pedophile's version of Oprah's book club, if you will.

Anyway, the actor cast to play the boy looks VERY, VERY young. Winslet looks VERY, VERY experienced by contrast and the many lingering love scenes between the two were squeamish and unsettling to say the least. I'm sure for some tastes, this sort of thing is titillating but I found myself feeling much the same way I did as a teenager stuck watching "dirty parts" of a movie in front of my parents. It creeped me out. When the two finally parted I heard Motley Husband mutter, "Thank god."

The rest of the movie was happily filled with Nazis. Yes, that's right, I found Nazis a welcome change to Kate Winslet licking the navel of a pubescent boy. Sue me.

The Nazis...see, years later when our young friend is in law school, his class attends and studies the trial of a former Nazi war criminal, who turns out to be none other than his former lover, Hanna Schmitz. Here the movie takes a very beautiful and agonized turn as the boy tries to rectify his feelings for Schmitz with the brutality of her crimes.

You'll be able to guess Schmitz's fate and the Nazi themes are all very familiar to us, but you will be moved by the performance of one of Schmitz's former victims, played with chilling iciness by Lena Olin. There was nothing in the movie that came as a great surprise--even the big 'reveal' should be no surprise to anyone with working eyeballs--but it was all well done and much of it was very moving.

Oh, and about the popcorn. So after shoveling down the better part of two pounds of popcorn, followed by a giant coffee and a beer, Motley Husband got throwing-up sick and he couldn't eat anything for almost a day and so claims now that he got some kind of bug. We have been going round and round on this one because he is sticking to this "bug" story, but we both know that BUTTERED POPCORN IS NOT A BUG.

The defense rests.

The Wire, Season 3

2009-03-05T06:27:00.000-08:00

Resident bad-ass and all-around best TV character ever created, Omar, from The Wire.

I think we're still feeling the effects of the writer's strike because the movie landscape out there is...well, it's just a huge pile of crap. Motley Husband and I actually have the chance to go to a real movie theater this weekend -- without a toddler -- and I can't believe the stunning array of choices awaiting us.

Honey! Should we see Confessions of a Shopaholic OR Paul Blart, Mall Cop? Oh, I can't decide between these two dazzling gems!

Thank god there's still The Wire. I haven't had any movie posts lately because we have become deeply and passionately obsessed with The Wire Season 3. This just has to be one of the top television series ever made (Arrested Development, don't worry, you'll never lose your #1 spot).

Watching this show, I have to believe that somewhere in the bowels of a mansion in Malibu, Ron Howard, Stephen Spielberg and Martin Scorcese are huddled together on the floor crying over the fact that they didn't think of this show first. It's just so damn good, it has to burn up every other director/producer/writer in town.

If you don't know, The Wire is a cop show on HBO. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Cop show, shmop show, if you've seen one CSI, you've seen 'em all."

But The Wire isn't like any cop show you've ever seen. Set in Baltimore, The Wire presents a unique and in-depth look at both the cops and the drug dealers they track. Each season of the show follows just a single investigation. It gives the audience an unbelievably gritty and real look at how the game is played on both sides of the law. The cops are both heroic and flawed. The drug dealers have dimensional, empathetic sides. It's nothing short of spectacular.

Season one was unbelievably good. Season two was -- eh -- not as great, but still very good. But Season three is back to fantastic, reuniting our police force with the nemesis of Season 1, the Avon Barksdale drug ring.

In Season 3, we get to watch the ominous rise of Barksdale's #2, Stringer Bell, as he attempts to evolve their business into legitimate enterprise using the drug money bankroll. Layered into the self-destructive antics of the police force is a new cast of characters from City Hall, giving us a glimpse into the gray morass where political ambition clashes with the everyday needs of a city police force. I won't give you even a hint of the plot, but suffice it to say that you're going to love how one rogue police captain decides to deal with drug enforcement this season.

And let me just take a moment to talk about the character of Omar Little. Omar is a rogue vigilante who robs from the drug dealers, making him an enemy of the street and not exactly a friend to the cops either. He's like an ass-kicking, shotgun-toting Robin Hood and HE IS THE BEST CHARACTER EVER CREATED. Did I mention that he's gay? It's so interesting and pretty astonishing to see how the show handles an openly gay street vigilante. I promise you it's something you'll never see in that fluffy pancake called Law & Order.

If they made a spin-off show called "Omar Cracks Some Motherf'ing Heads," I would watch it every day. You should watch the show for Omar alone. Please. I'm begging you.

Something terrific is brewing here for Season 4, and I for one can't wait to see how the City Hall players muck up the soup. And if Hollywood keeps making craptastic features involving the words "Mall Cop," you can bet we'll be watching a lot more Wire here at the Queue.

Hugh Jackman Manages to Make the Oscars Even Worse

2009-02-24T06:03:00.000-08:00

Hugh Jackman, manhood called. It wants you to turn in your man-card.

Seriously, I had no idea that Wolverine had lady-parts. Watching Jackman prance around the stage in his hideous "I think I'm hosting the Tony Awards" musical montage ruined the Oscars for me.

And let's be honest, he didn't have to do much to ruin them. I heard a news story last week about how the producers were determined to spice up the show this year to combat sagging ratings from last year. And, by spice, they clearly meant drag out every major award with bloated and ridiculous introductions.

Goldie Hawn: "Amy Adams, you are the most talented and godlike person who has ever walked the face of the earth. Humanity would fail were it not for the grace of your immaculate being. Amy Adams, I am going to sacrifice this human child before you on this stage just to honor how important you are to my life and to the future of planet Earth. Amy Adams, I have never married Kurt Russell because I have been waiting to become your wife. Marry me."

Beyond the horrible scripting was the boring, predictable filler, including A Look Back at Comedies of 2008. Seriously? That was the best you could come up with? God forbid you actually cut an hour out of this bloated awards show and actually get to the awards.

When will the producers of the Oscars learn that people tune into the Oscars for just three things?

1. To see what people are wearing. Note to Hollywood: we need less stylists making everyone look pretty/boring and we need more Tilda Swinton. Holy cats, she can wear some wackadoo duds.

2. To see who wins the awards. Not to see a musical montage from the soundtrack of Doubt. I repeat: NO ONE CARES. THE PEOPLE FROM DOUBT DON'T EVEN CARE.

3. To watch the uncomfortable interactions of Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston. On that score, well-played Oscars.

The only bright spots of the telecast came from the more youthful and fresh interplay of duos like Tina Fey/Steve Martin and Seth Rogen/James Franco. Take note, Oscar producers, comedians + funny = enjoyable. Hugh Jackman + estrogen = misery.

Wanted

2009-02-16T06:45:00.000-08:00

Imagine a movie that's one part Karate Kid, one part The Matrix, and you have Wanted.

Wanted starts out with a black screen and small text giving us the back story. "1,000 years ago, a group of weavers formed a society of assassins..."

Hold the phone.
WEAVERS?

I kid you not. The fate of the world as we know it rests in the hands of sweater makers. How's that for gripping backstory? Weavers. Leather tanners I might believe, but weavers? Tee, hee. I still can't get over it. But wait, there's more...you see, a loom weaves out encrypted messages telling the weaver assassins who they must kill next. Go ahead, re-read that previous sentence. Take it all in. Death by textile. You might never look at your cotton t-shirts in the same way.

So it goes without saying that you need a fair suspension of disbelief to enjoy Wanted. And it's not an unenjoyable action film. It's a fairly non-stop assault of high testosterone action and violence, but there's nothing that will feel too new.

James McAvoy stars as the Karate Kid -- er -- Wesley Gibson, a miserable office drone who learns his father was the world's top assassin. He's drawn into the assassin's training ground in order to train to take down his father's killer.

His training involves a lot of bloody fighting montage scenes and a lot of slow-motion bullets whizzing Matrix-style around impossible angles. It also involves a lot of the surly assassin Fox, played by Angelina Jolie. I'd be pretty surly too if I hadn't eaten anything resembling food in the last six months. Seriously, did they have craft services on that set? Couldn't somebody at least maybe have spooned some broth into her mouth? She's still a knockout but girlfriend was looking pretty bony and haggard in this film.

If you're looking for pure action, you'll enjoy the movie, even if much of it so unrealistic and improbable, you'll find yourself giggling through it. James McAvoy was an interesting casting choice because he's completely against archetype for action hero. I think the boy can actually act, but he just didn't get much a chance to do it here. But hey, he does save humanity from a killer scarf maker, so no complaints.

A tale of two indies

2009-02-11T06:23:00.000-08:00

Netflix recommendations, you are my best friend and my worst enemy. Let's compare our two most recent rentals, Outsourced and The Rage in Placid Lake.

Outsourced, which earned a 3.7 stars (out of 5) rating on Netflix, is a total waste of film. Who are the people giving it 3.7 stars? I would like to meet you, and at that meeting I will remove a cotton glove from my purse and smack you smartly across the face with it.

I'll be honest that I thought the premise of Outsourced sounded kinda fun: a yuppie US office worker is forced to go to India to train his replacement when his job is outsourced. It has a certain ironic appeal, no?

No, no, no. Nothing could save the film from the horrific acting of the lead, played by some C-list actor named Josh Hamilton, who's biggest screen credits come from Law & Order. Big surprise. The film devolves into a tepid romantic comedy involving the lead character falling in forbidden love with one of the Indian office workers. Oh no! Cross-cultural love? What a taboo! In 1977!

Did they overcome their cultural and religious differences in the end? I couldn't tell you. We didn't even bother to finish this turd. Please don't waste your time either.

Moving on to The Rage in Placid Lake, which was an absolutely delightful movie. It earned 4.0 stars on Netflix, which maybe is the new litmus test for what a movie needs to make it to my mailbox.

The Rage follows a kid named Placid Lake, played endearingly by the very talented Ben Lee, as he tries to overcome his "weirdness" to become a normal member of society in both life and love. Placid is a kid raised by distracted hippie parents who encourage him to express himself in creative ways, which ultimately leads him to become a persistent target of school bullies. After graduation, fed up with feeling like a weirdo, Placid decides to adopt the habits of a modern drone: wearing a suit and working for an insurance company.

The film is adorable. I just loved it. It was weird and offbeat and exactly what I want out of an indie movie. There were a ton of hysterically awkward scenes involving the nerdy sexual escapades of Placid and the outrageous sexual antics of his hippie parents. Hilarious.

In summary, I can't take another Outsourced. Yet at the same time, I'd hate to miss another Rage. So I'm torn. I guess for now, I'm officially putting Netflix Recommendations on probation.

Stepbrothers

2009-02-03T11:46:00.000-08:00

Some days you feel like being a movie snob. "No," you insist to your highbrow friends, "I can't say that I've ever spent an entire Saturday afternoon watching reruns of The Wedding Singer on TBS in my pajamas with a bag of Lays surgically attached to my mouth."

And then there are days when you just want to watch a movie like Stepbrothers. Starring Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly as...you guessed it...stepbrothers, this is perfect, stupid humor. It's the movie that will one day replace reruns of The Wedding Singer on TBS, foreshadowing many lazy Saturday afternoons in your future.

The plot? Do you really care? Because there isn't much of one. Just that these two guys are total louts who are still living at home with the 'rents in their forties. Naturally, the parents conspire to get the boys out of the house and living on their own. Along the way, we're treated to plenty of physical comedy and even a very graphic scrotum-rubbing scene for good measure. It is, an ideal Will Ferrell vehicle. You won't be surprised by any of the humor, but you'll still enjoy it.

Some of the best moments of the film come from the unhappily married yet oversexed sister-in-law, Alice, who tries to bodily rape John C. Reilly at every opportunity. The duds in the film all come from the mother figure in the movie, played by Mary Steenburgen, who, it turns out, is just a terrible actor. I guess I never noticed it before, but she really stinks this thing up. I blame Ted Danson. And the fact that she appears to have ingested her last meal in 1987. Mary, consider a cheeseburger, please. It might help with that fraught/twittery thing you do.

Tropic Thunder

2009-01-28T12:46:00.000-08:00

I believe the deth knell of American comedy boils down to two words: POLITICAL CORRECTNESS. Don't believe me? Then I challenge you to rent Blazing Saddles and honestly tell me you think someone would make that movie today. Puhleeze. Al Sharpton would have their balls for breakfast.

I hate being PC. It's the fakest thing on the planet. I hate that it gives healthy, entitled white people (of which I am admittedly one) carte blanche to feel morally satisfied that they are no longer racist, prejudiced or judgemental. It's like winning the clean slate lottery. "Racist? Not me," the smug white proudly proclaims. "I use the term African-American even when there isn't a black man in the room. See?"

I can't help myself. I love bawdy humor. I think stereotypes are amusing. But does that make me a bad person? Probably. Deal with it, PC Police.

Which brings me to Tropic Thunder. I laughed my smug white ass off through the whole thing. Sure, it's a great parody of making a Vietnam War movie and all the cliches of action-hero stereotypes, but god bless the team who decided to push the PC-ness...even if it's pretty tame.

I know, some of you might not think that putting Robert Downey Jr. in black face is tame, but man, it was just so funny you have to love it. It put a fine point on exactly how overboard we've taken the whole political correctness movement. Kudos to Downey Jr. for being in on the joke.

The other part of the movie which drew great PC ire were the references to Tugg Speedman's (played by Ben Stiller) former movie role as Simple Jack. Again, this was a great jab at all those serious actors who think they're going to strike Oscar gold by ... and these are not my words, people, but a quote from the movie: "Going Full Retard."

Ha, ha, ha. It's so true! And that's what makes it hilarious. Can't you see that, PC Police? Just ask Juliette Lewis. Ask Sean Penn. It didn't exactly pan out for them, now did it? Again though, I thought the Simple Jack storyline was tame at best and certainly not worthy of the uproar it caused. It was just plain funny and a great dig at taking political correctness too far.

So go rent Tropic Thunder. Laugh as hard as you want. No one is listening. And the next day, amidst a crowd of smug whites, you have complete permission to pretend you were entirely offended.

I'll await your hate mail now.

The Wind That Shakes the Barley

2009-01-19T09:10:00.000-08:00

1. A lot of people suffer in Ireland.
2. For two and a half hours.

Hamlet 2

2009-01-17T11:16:00.000-08:00

I owe a big apology to Hollywood. Just when I'd about given up on your shitty Kate Hudson-dominated, mindless drivel, you threw me a bone: Hamlet 2.

How this movie didn't get more buzz and attention is beyond me. It's a perfect off-beat flick filled with subversive humor and witty dialogue.

The cast, including Catherine Keener, Steve Coogan and a hilarious cameo by Elisabeth Shue as herself, is perfect. David Arquette is also in the film, uttering approximately 2 words, which is just about the perfect use of David Arquette.

Set in a high school in Tuscon, Arizona, Hamlet 2 follows the yearnings for greatness of a failed actor turned untalented high school drama teacher, Dana Marschz (with a hard Z). Marschz, played by Steve Coogan, bears a striking resemblance to a character that's one part clueless Napoleon Dynamite, one-part over-the-top Bruce Campbell. He's perfect. Married to an embittered housewife (Keener) whom he's trying to impregnate by wearing caftans to keep his scrotum at a reasonable temperature, Marschz launches a campaign to save the school's drama program by staging his own creation: Hamlet 2. Let the games begin.

When the school theater critic points out, "Didn't everyone die at the end of Hamlet?" Marschz simply writes a scene involving Jesus Christ and a time machine to bring them all back. If you're not drooling a little bit over that, there is a Kate Hudson movie waiting for you at the theater right now.

Naturally, Marschz has to mix two overzealous theater geeks (one a closeted gay with whom Marschz has a balloon fight that will keep you laughing for minutes) with a rough and tumble bunch of Latino toughs to make his dream come to life. The final production is well, let me just say that two of the numbers include: "Raped in the face" and "Rock me, sexy Jesus."

I think William Shakespeare would have been so, so proud.

Why I Love the Golden Globes

2009-01-14T07:10:00.000-08:00

Alec Baldwin looked surlier and drunker than ever, like at any moment he might bust off one of Angelina Jolie's skinny sticks and gnaw it like a Kodiak bear.

Colin Farrel. If a former Hollywood drug addict announces he "only has a cold" while he rubs his nose, he's definitely doing coke again. You heard it here first.

Rene Zellweger and that batshit crazy hairdo can only lead me to believe she was attacked by Sharon Stone on the way in.

No one had the guts to tell Tina Fey to fix her hair before she went on stage. Although, it was refreshing to see someone resembling a real human instead of a Botox-bot.

Because DVR let me fast-forward through Steven Spielberg's insufferable "I am the most important man who has ever walked the Earth including ol' what's-his-name you Christians are so keen on" speech.

Ditto Kate Winslet and her "I am so surprised that I wrote a 12-page speech" speech.

Rumer Willis as the "I'm never going to be A-list am I?" Miss Golden Globe. Man, she lost the genetic lottery between her parents in a major way.

Californication, Season 1

2009-01-13T12:47:00.000-08:00

Admitting to you that I watch Californication is rather like saying, "I subscribe to Playboy, but only for the articles."This show is like a fungus. A dirty, disgusting fungus that you are embarrassed you have but one that grows on you nonetheless.

To say that there is a lot of T&A in Californication is like saying that Aretha Franklin enjoys a plate of ribs from time to time. I guess this show is supposed to be the male version of Sex in the City, but I'm over it already. The first two episodes alone were so rife with bouncing fake boobs and oversexed starlets that I almost sprained my eyes from rolling them so much. But then that fungus action started to take place and slowly I found myself getting involved with all these decrepit characters. By the end, I actually cared about some of them.

Not star David Duchovny, who plays Hank Moody as the most magnetic and desired sexual being on the planet. Really? Old Mumbles No-Chin Duchovny? Really. Did I mention that in several scenes he also handily kicks the snot out of men twice his size? Really. Maybe if I could understand a f-ing word his mushmouth says, I might like him better. BUT I REQUIRE DIALOGUE THAT IS AUDIBLE TO THE HUMAN EAR, DUCHOVNY!

Lucky for Duchovny, he's working with a stellar supporting cast. His spurned love interest, Karen, is played beautifully by Natascha McElhone, a woman whose expression melds in a lovely way between sorrow and joy at every turn. Daughters Mia and Becca offer a nice balance of psychotic tension and puppy dog innocence to the mix of characters.

The comic relief of the show comes from Duchovny's over-sexed agent and his wife, played brilliantly by Evan Handler and Pamela Adlon as Charlie and Marcie. Trust me, these two take marital sexual tension to a hilarious new level. They are so much fun to watch that I'll be renting Season 2 for sure, despite the knowledge that Mumbles is still the star of the show.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days

2009-01-05T09:32:00.000-08:00

Parents, if you have teenage girls in the house, this is the film for you. Nothing will inspire obsessive birth control practices like watching two Romanian girls arrange and suffer through an illegal abortion in Romania circa the 1980s. You can feel your hormones shrivel up with each chilling new scene.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is a profusely dismal yet entirely riveting film. It was the kind of film you don't really want to watch, but you can't turn off at the same time. It's a very well-done turn on subject matter few can tackle so honestly.

Set in just one day, we watch as college student, Otilia, struggles through a quagmire of obstacles to secure an illegal abortion for her roommate, Gabita. It should probably come as no shock that a back-alley male abortionist in a communist country is probably not the most trustworthy sort of soul. Just a word of advice for the ladies out there.

Gabita proves to be an equally untrustworthy character, further complicating Otilia's brutal journey with her unfolding lies and misinformation. And to think, the worst thing I ever asked my roommate to do was hold back my hair when I puked all over myself in a Boones Farm fiesta.

The film's setting and scenery are as dire and bleak as the subject matter. For me it removed "Visit Romania!" from my life's to-do list forever. It looks like it's your lucky day, Kygrzstan!

Hellboy II: The Golden Army

2008-12-29T13:23:00.000-08:00

So I told my sister-in-law that I just watched Hellboy II and she gave me the same look she would have if I'd told her that I'd just spent the day scrapbooking about Battlestar Gallactica.

Some people just don't understand geek love.

I can't help it: I love me some Hellboy. Sure, it's not rocket science, but it's so much fun to watch. Plus, it's directed by Guillermo del Toro, of Pan's Labrynth fame, so you know the visuals are going to be sweet. Okay, the scene with the giant seed pod was pretty stupid, but on the whole, the underground world of trolls, fairies and a magical race was great eye candy.

And the villain, Prince Nuada? Not only the best villain I've seen since since Heath Ledger's Joker, but none too hard on the eyes either, ladies. Spectacular costuming and make-up. I could have used a lot more Prince and a lot less Hellboy. Hellboy himself is pretty one-dimensional, as is his useless sidekick, Liz, played with lackluster flair by Selma Blair. Is it just me or does she always look like she's trying to pass a stone?

There are seriously entire battle scenes in the film in which she just stands in the background holding her gun while all around her, advancing enemies attack everyone else. Were I say a maniacal golden killing machine, it seems odd I wouldn't go after some spindly little Liz meat. Maybe it's just me.

All in all, it's a fun film to watch and since it doesn't take itself too seriously, it's a great variation on the comic book genre.

Happy new year.

I'm back and a note about Dexter

2008-12-29T13:16:00.000-08:00

Hello all. Sorry for the long drought since my last post. Christmas shenanigans and all that. I'm going to get back in the swing of things tout de suite.

Anyway, on my last Dexter post, I noted that I was going to start reading the books the show was based on (they're by Jeff Lindsay if you're interested). I finished the first book and started on book 2 over the holidays, but I have to warn any fellow Dexter TV fans: don't read the books...yet anyway.

This is the rare instance when I feel the show is actually much better than the books. The whole ice truck killer plot, for instance, is merely a scratched surface in the book that climaxes in a very obvious and brief way. What a let down. I may read the books once the series is officially off the air just to see how different it really is but for now, I'm going to shelve it.

Iron Man

2008-12-15T11:45:00.000-08:00

First, let me say I never had any intention of watching this film. I enjoy a good comic book movie as much as the next guy, but I had no idea what the Iron Man story was, and to be honest, the idea of Robert Downey Jr. as an action hero is just as appealing as Nicolas Cage as an action hero (thank you very much, Jerry Bruckheimer, you satanic master of all that is wrong with cinema, for making that fresh hell a reality).

But last week I was browsing through a few "Best Films of 2008" lists and every one I crossed had Iron Man on the list. So, peer pressure won out and here we are.

Did I like it? Yes, actually, it's a pretty entertaining film if you like the comic book genre and the special effects are impressive. And as much as I don't buy him as a super hero, I can't help but love Robert Downey Jr.

Do I have reservations? Oh my, yes. Let us count the ways:

1. The first fifteen minutes of the film is a gratuitous playboy melange of women/money/cars/bad-boy behavior. We get it. He's rich AND unpredictable. Shivers. It definitely makes you feel like the the script was the wet dream of a homely-virgin-comic book-nerd-still-living-in-his-mom's-basement.

2. Jon Favreau directed it. Really? We're giving him blockbuster budgets now? Really?

3. The casting of Gwyneth Paltrow, as leading lady, Pepper Potts, was just wrong. As much as I can't stand her, even I must admit she was too good for this film. And to be fair, she seemed pretty annoyed to be there as well.

4. The villain? Well, I don't want to spoil anything, but if you have eyeballs and a few functional brain cells, you'll figure out who the villain is approximately at the four-minute mark. It made his big 'reveal' later in the film about as surprising as Clay Aiken's coming out. Really, even my cat wasn't surprised.

5. Middle Easterners. Man, they get the shaft in every film these days. Hmmm....we need some bad guys. Who should it be? Eureka! Let's throw some turbans and dirty rags on a gang of dark-skinned actors and call 'em terrorists! Brilliant! One can only hope that all the Middle Eastern actors playing "Arab Terrorist #2" and "Disgruntled Iraqi #5" are at least getting their SAG cards.

That being said, it's a fun, spirited movie with some super cool gadgets and plenty of testosterone. Go on and rent it for the holidays. You need a break from the 24-hour marathon of A Christmas Story anyway, right?

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

2008-12-08T10:53:00.001-08:00

Eureka! I have finally cracked the formula for creating a successful and funny romantic comedy:
1. Avoid Kate Hudson, Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Lopez et al. like the plague
2. Involve Judd Apatow
3. Throw in Paul Rudd for good measure
4. Include a slightly chubby man in an uncomfortable nude scene

There, filmmakers, please take note. This is the formula followed in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and it worked. An amusing little film that has many more laughs than I expected. Jason Segel (the aforementioned chubby naked guy) stars and is as goofily charming as he is in his TV show, "How I Met Your Mother." And who couldn't love Mila Kunis as the romantic interest? Sure, her voice could peel paint off the walls, but she's so cute.

My only beef is casting Kristen Bell as the other lead. Am I the only person annoyed by her? She just seems like that bratty know-it-all in your algebra class who always had her hand in the air with the correct answer. You know, the type who never leaves dirty clothes on the floor or eats potato chips. My nemesis.

51 Birch Street

2008-12-08T10:43:00.000-08:00

Have you ever walked in on your parents having sex?

Watching this documentary is a little bit like that. Deeply uncomfortable and something you're not likely to forget. In 51 Birch Street, the filmmaker, Doug Block, explores his parents' marriage after his father hastily marries his former secretary just weeks after his wife's unexpected death.

What follows is a brutally honest look inside a 54-year marriage, thanks in large part to the oh-so-detailed diaries left behind by the deceased wife, Mina. As he reads her diary, filmmaker and son has to reconcile the marriage he thought his parents had with the one written down on paper. And it's all there: his mother's depression, despair, affairs and indiscretions. Added to that is the lingering question about his father's quickie re-marriage. Was he having an affair with his secretary all along?

I'll let you find out for yourself. As for me? This was great reinforcement to my rule of never keeping a diary. When you die, someone is going to read them. So burn them, people. Burn them. Given what I learned in this film, your kids do not want to read the words "mom" and "fellatio" in the same sentence.

Air Guitar Nation

2008-12-01T10:39:00.000-08:00

This documentary had so much potential. I mean really, could anything be better than a whole troupe of costume-laden overzealous losers—sorry, air guitar enthusiasts—and an international battle royale to snag the title of World Air Guitar Champion?

Turns out, yes. I actually balanced my checkbook during this film and found my check register to be loads more exciting. Deposits AND withdrawals! Riveting.

Air Guitar Nation was just a huge disappointment, and I can’t even really tell why it’s so bad. Perhaps I was turned off by the smug competitors who seemed all-too aware that they were always performing for the camera, even during personal interviews.

It is a sorry commentary when the best moment of the film is a two-second scene of a very pale and awfully naked European man enthusiastically flagellating his own penis a la a guitar neck. It showed an impressive lack of nerve sensitivity from what I understand of the male penis. But this is not an anatomy lesson, friends, this is a movie review. And I give it four very chafed and limp penises.

Dexter, Season 2

2008-11-25T08:37:00.000-08:00

I’m working on my New Year’s resolutions already and topping the list is, “Be less obsessed with Dexter.”

Seriously, this show is like video crack for me. I can’t get enough. Woe will be the long wait for Season 3. Motley Queue reader Kaycee was on the nose with her comment that I would love Season 2 even better than Season 1. I don’t want to spoil one bit of it for you readers but this season was so tense and exciting that we watched the whole thing in a sick Netflix binge that involved several bags of potato chips and a two-pound tub of hummus from Costco. It was totally worth it.

And to top it all off, I was just informed by friend Bill that the entire show is based on a series of books, AND he claims the books are even better than the show. If I could figure out a way to insert giant eyeball emoticons here, I would do it. I’ve got the first book reserved at the library and am praying it arrives in time to accompany me on our Thanksgiving travels. There is a certain irony about spending Thanksgiving with my in-laws and a serial killer, no?

Get Smart

2008-11-18T06:42:00.001-08:00

A movie review in five words or less: it's better than you think.

I know, the previews looked bad, right? But Get Smart is kind of fun. It's not going to change your life but it's entirely tolerable and even a little enjoyable. Perhaps it's just the soft spot I hold for the old Get Smart TV show, but I was charmed by Steve Carrell in the role of Maxwell Smart. And yes, I even found Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson to be entirely pleasing. Well, there's a sentence I never thought I'd write.

Anne Hathaway was...well...an odd choice for the role of Agent 99. Never mind the fact that she's young enough to be Steve Carrell's daughter, which made their romantic scenes more than a little creepy. I was more bothered by the fact that she has this pale, tired look about her that leaves you with the impression that a vampire just eased her of the burden of carrying all her blood around.

I know she went through some tragic public break-up in her real life during the making of this film, but still...couldn't the make-up team have given her a little under-eye concealer and maybe a spray of bronzer in between crying jags?

On the flip side, the people casting for the Twilight vampire movies could have Hathaway walk onto the set tomorrow and she'll steal the show.

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story

2008-11-17T10:12:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I knew this was a spoof of singer biopics (Walk the Line, Ray, etc.), but I wasn't prepared for this to be so, well, spoofy.

I think I was confused by a bizarre interview I heard when the film was released with the writer (Judd Apatow) and star (John C. Reilly) on Fresh Air with Terry Gross where she did her usual "I'm going to pretend I'm interviewing Kofi Annan and treat this with utmost gravitas" routine to even the most ridiculous of subject matter. I seriously walked away thinking they'd just remade Citizen Kane.

Can we talk about Terry Gross for a minute? She drives me nuts. Is it just me or does she ask the longest questions possible, which are never really questions at all? Like this:

TERRY:"So tell me, Denzel Washington, because I would imagine it must have felt very empowering and emotional, and even a little frightening to portray Malcolm X, such a lauded and loathed figure in African-American society that seemed to embody both the best parts of the civil rights movement and the worst fears of the white cultural miasma."

DENZEL: "Um, was that a question?"

You see my point? Anyway, enough about Ms. Gross. I was totally surprised by the silly and sometimes hilarious parts of the film. There were several moments that seemed to be pulled straight out of The Naked Gun. Lily silly dick and fart jokes that you just don't see coming. Kind of amusing. In a dick and fart sort of way.

The cast was a huge ensemble with some fun surprises (Jenna Fischer, Frankie Muniz, Paul Rudd, Eddie Veder) but it was bizarre to see an entire troupe of current and former SNL stars rounding out the cast, including Kristen Wiig, Tim Meadows and Chris Parnell. I thought it had the stink of Lorne Michaels all over it, which is never a good thing.

There was nothing outright bad about this movie, other than it went on too long, you knew exactly what was going to happen at all times and it settled for funny when it should have been hilarious. Oh, and John C. Reilly, as much as I love him, is just really hard to watch being sexual. Really hard.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

2008-11-04T12:38:00.000-08:00

Was there something wrong with all of us in the '80s that we thought these were such good movies? Because I'm here to tell you that in 2008, Indiana Jones sucks. Plasticky, cheeseball, put-George-Lucas-out-of-his-misery sucks. At least he didn't throw Jar Jar Binks into the film but you can tell he probably came close, settling for some ridiculously bad CGI prairie dogs instead.

All the hype over Harrison Ford being "so old" was much ado about nothing. His age doesn't factor into the movie at all.

What does factor in is how George Lucas is perilously trapped in another dimension where old-timey villains (Commies! Scary!), lame special effects and cheesy backdrops are de rigueur. I dare you not to notice how incredibly fake and studio-setty the scenery is in this movie. I'm pretty sure I saw at least one set that was used on The Goonies and the entire car-chase-in-the-jungle scene was definitely filmed in the Ewok forest. Sigh.

The plot of Crystal Skull feels like George Lucas went back to his cast-off notes from three decades ago and mashed them all together in what he must have imagined to be a trifecta of intrigue. Reds! Aliens! Peruvians! Huh?

It's all cobbled together by the search for a skull of some master race of aliens in a lost city. Indiana Jones is naturally the only person who can translate all the clues leading to the skull. Did I mention it took him approximately one millisecond to solve a half-dozen complex riddles written in dead languages? Even Harrison Ford seemed to be annoyed by it.

The villainess of the film, played by Cate Blanchett, is the worst parody of a Commie I've seen since the Russian lady on Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. (Admit it, you watched.) But the bigger point is that I feel Commies are a little, how should I say this, not interesting at all today? No? Is it just me?

I know the spirit of Indiana Jones is light fare and I should have watched the movie with a bit more suspension of disbelief but for the love of god, I nearly lost my mind in the Commie car chase scene when Indy & company managed to dodge approximately 9,000 rounds of machine gunfire shot from ten feet away.

It is time to put this series to bed. And while we're at it, let's put George Lucas to bed as well. The kind of bed that sits in a room with bars on the window and in which there is no interior door handle.

Dexter, Season 1, part 2

2008-10-23T08:44:00.000-07:00

Is it wrong to love a serial killer?

Because I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Dexter. And I should explain that I long ago had to stop watching anything resembling a horror movie because I have nightmares for days afterward that generally result in me forcing my poor husband to scour the house at 3am for intruders because I'm pretty sure I heard someone trying to jimmy a lock three bedrooms away. Motley Husband just loves it. My point is that if the idea of a show based on a serial killer creeps you out, don't worry...Dexter is just the perfect blend of thrilling, humorous and just enough creepy to make it interesting.

We put our lives on hold this week to watch the final episodes this week. Laundry? We'll get to it later. Responsibilities? Who needs 'em. Phone calls? Let them go to voicemail. We had Dexter to watch. I realize this makes us a teeny bit sad, but I'm willing to accept it. The show is that good.

This has to be one of the greatest single seasons of any show in the history of shows, and to top it off, one of my faithful readers tells me that Season Two only gets even better. I can't imagine how. But you better believe we'll be watching it soon. In the mean time, please go watch Dexter and tell me what you think.

Run Fatboy, Run

2008-10-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

Simon Pegg, how could you, brother?

You're one of my all-time faves. After Shaun of the Dead, I believed you had the power to make even a Lifetime Television movie fantastic. You were perfect, charming and witty. But alas, we have found your Achilles Heel, and his name is David Schwimmer. We liked you as Ross, Schwimmer. But as a director of Run Fatboy, Run you are, um, how do we say this nicely? You're not good, pal. Sorry, but someone needs to tell you.

But Schwimmer doesn't take the fall all alone for this disappointing and predictable film. That blame sadly falls to two people I normally adore, co-writers Michael Ian Black and Simon Pegg. Separately, they're terrific. But apparently when they come together it's like two beautiful people who have a very ugly baby. A real head-scratcher.

Maybe it's because they started with an obvious premise and an even more predictable story line: lovable loser is engaged to a woman who's much, much too good for him. He leaves her at the altar in a panic. Fast-forward five years and we find our loser trying to win her back by besting her newer, handsomer, richer boyfriend. Does the underdog get the girl? Does good triumph over rich and handsome?

I think you can do the math here. Sigh. What a colossal waste of un-funny time. You might consider renting Fatboy if you're just looking for some very mild entertainment-- you know, if the Judith Light movie you were watching on Lifetime just didn't cut it for you.

Dexter, Season 1

2008-10-14T05:27:00.000-07:00

Holy cow, this is an awesome show! I can't believe this slipped under my radar until now. I probably would never have even rented it had I not heard a TV review on NPR in which they compared the crop of new shows on HBO and Showtime to the gold standard, Dexter, referring to it as the 'next Sopranos.'

Who is Dexter? He's a sociopathic serial killer whom you'll find surprisingly likable. Played deftly by Michael C. Hall of Six Feet Under fame, Dexter had urges to kill early on, so his father helped him channel his urges into a greater good for society: by teaching him to only kill other serial killers, murderers and the like. It sounds far-fetched but the story is handled with ease given that Dexter earns a living as a forensic criminalist, giving him front-row-seat access to his future prey.

An interesting cast of characters rounds the show out, giving us a view into how a serial killer negotiates day-to-day interactions with his family and friends. And the main plot is quickly evolving into a tease between Dexter and an equally clever serial killer.

We gulped down the first four episodes of the show like we were dying of thirst. I promise you, you'll be hooked just a few minutes into the first episode. I just raced to my Netflix queue and moved all the remaining discs to the top of my list, which is just fine given that we are in a drought for good movies right now.

Sex and the City: the Movie

2008-10-08T07:06:00.001-07:00

I’ve never been one of those women who “just loved, loved, loved this show!” I watched it. I enjoyed it. I wanted Carrie to marry Aiden too. But that was about it for me. I could never quite get on board with the idea of Kim Cattrall as this ravenous sexual magnet. Let’s be honest, she looks like your alcoholic aunt who was kind of a slut in high school. And every time Cynthia Nixon was filmed in a lustful scene with a man, I’m pretty sure a kitten was murdered.

When it comes to watching the Sex and the City movie, I kept my hopes very tempered, which is precisely the attitude you need to watch this film. The whole movie unrolls exactly how you imagine it will: a costume parade of four cougars desperately trying to appear fifteen years younger than they were ten years ago. Prepare yourself to see some scarily aged hands as compared to the eerily smooth faces above them. It’s a good thing they made this movie when they did, because I don’t think their parchment skin can support their lack of eating anything resembling food much longer.

Although, I have to give props to Sarah Jessica Parker for allowing herself to be filmed with zero make-up and wardrobe in a few scenes where she’s playing a heartbroken and bereft dumpee. It was surprising and not a little refreshing, like a palette cleanser before she jumped back into a parade of outrageous costumes.

The characters of Charlotte and Miranda are mere distractions with half-hearted attempts on behalf of the screenwriter to make them relevant to the story. But my biggest problem with the movie was, no pun intended, Mr. Big, whom we loved on the show because he’s an arrogant, selfish asshole. In the film, his character was relegated to a weepy ragdoll without a backbone. If I heard him say, “I just want you” one more time, I was going to jab a rusty fork in my ears.

In the end, Sex and the City still comes down to the wise words once spoken by Peter Griffin of The Family Guy:

Peter: Sex and the City. Isn’t that the show about those three hookers and their mom?

Smart People

2008-10-02T08:39:00.000-07:00

Smart People is a fine movie...except that you've seen it before in at least a dozen iterations. Cantankerous, widowed professor struggles to raise smart-mouthed teenagers and keep his career afloat. Career and parenthood spiral toward the inevitable toilet. Widower runs into a former student. Former student charms the grouchy away and the romance begins. All is merry.

Sound familiar? I was bored about twenty minutes in, and I was even more annoyed that the director resorted to cheap tricks to show us how "eccentric" Dennis Quaid's main character, Lawrence Wetherhold (seriously, Lawrence Wetherhold) was. Oh, look, he parks his car crooked in the parking lot. Now that IS eccentric. What? He will only ride in the back seat of a car? Now I KNOW he's eccentric!

Despite the tired story, the cast of the film had a great deal of promise, but the film let them down by plugging them into all-too familiar roles. Ellen Page plays the same smart aleck she always plays, Thomas Hayden Church plays the goofy, off-kilter and unreliable brother and Sarah Jessica Parker plays the challenging love interest.

A word about Ms. Parker. I realize now why they put her in so many goofy costumes in Sex and the City. It's because if she's just wearing plane-jane clothes, you find yourself spending a lot of time considering how huge and bony that head of hers is. Jesus on the cross, that is the biggest jaw this side of a thoroughbred. I know that's a cheap shot and I generally do consider her to be quite beautiful but the cameraman didn't do her any favors in this film.

There are some funny moments in the film and the interplay of Ellen Page and Thomas Hayden Church is definitely the high mark of the film, but in the end, this is just an uninspired take on a story we've seen a dozen times.

The Puffy Chair

2008-09-23T08:17:00.000-07:00

I have a suggestion for an alternate title for The Puffy Chair: "DO NOT WASTE THE PAPER YOUR NETFLIX ENVELOPE IS PRINTED ON." It has a nice ring, doesn't it?

In other words, I am giving up on the independent film industry. Consider us broken up. I can't take another dull and meandering film again.

From here on out it's nothing but Jerry Bruckheimer, Vin Diesel and John Travolta for me. Oh yes, I went there. Tim Allen? I'll eat him for breakfast. Tyler Perry and his various houses of things? I will laugh my various asses off.

No more vague plots for me. No more hazily formed symbolism. No more artsy for the sake of fartsy. From here on out I am dedicating myself to plots involving Nicolas Cage, his bad wig, a vial of plutonium and a possible prison escape.

Burn After Reading

2008-09-18T05:50:00.000-07:00

In Burn After Reading, the Coen brothers are back in their dark comedy groove in a film that’s one part Fargo, one part Big Lebowski. Burn doesn't tread in new territory for the Coen's, but it's one of the most enjoyable films I've seen in a long time.

The plot is a twisted warren of woefully misdirected characters, each on a singular, selfish mission that prevents them from ever seeing the larger impact of their actions. It’s a stew of adultery, blackmail, government bureaucracy and the most loveably dimwitted gym employees on the planet.

The cast, including George Clooney, Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand and John Malkovich, delivered terrific performances. And it pains me to say it, but Brad Pitt was so hilarious that the theater was in laugh-out-loud mode whenever he appeared on screen. It kind of makes me wonder how Brad Pitt and George Clooney lucked into such fantastic roles...cue dream sequence music here:

PITT: Hey Clooney, see you’re still dragging that Oscar with you everywhere.

CLOONEY: Well, I didn’t expect you to bring along the entire cast of a Sally Struthers’ commercial, but here we are.

PITT: Those are my children, Clooney.

CLOONEY: I’ll pay you five million dollars if you can tell me all their names right now. I’d offer more but that’s all I’ve got in my wallet.

PITT: Save it, Clooney. I don’t need your money. I need a film, friend. It’s time to bring back some of that Brad Pitt magic to the big screen. I’ve been away too long saving the world and showing up Bono and whatnot.

CLOONEY: My god, Pitt, you’re really depressed, aren’t you?

PITT: You have no idea. I’m even too depressed to make another baby.

CLOONEY: Egads! Manservant! Pitt is talking crazy. Bring him a case of Chateau Margaux, a gallon of orphan’s tears and a stack of those Google stock certificates we use as toilet paper.

PITT: That’s sweet, George, but I don’t think it will help.

CLOONEY: No? We could light a fire using stacks of thousand-dollar bills. That always makes me feel better.

PITT: Nah. Did that yesterday.

CLOONEY: My god man, your life has reached a new handsome low. At least you still have your wife.

PITT: Sigh. For the thousandth time, she’s not my wife. She’s my lover-slash-co-parenting-partner. Why is that so hard to remember?

CLOONEY: Hmmm? Sorry, I didn’t catch that. I was too busy looking at my handsome reflection in this priceless mirror that belonged to Julius Caesar. Oops, dropped it. Oh, well, I’ll just get another.

PITT: Here, take mine.

CLOONEY: You know what, Pitt, you are a true friend. I think I’ll let you in on this next Coen Brothers film I’m doing.

PITT: Do you mean it, George?

CLOONEY: I’m too rich and handsome to lie. Consider it done. Manservant! Bring me a telephone! No, no, not the one covered in priceless gemstones. I want the one with a unicorn horn as the antenna!

PITT: A real unicorn horn? I didn’t think those existed.

CLOONEY: You don’t own a unicorn? Oh, Pitt, no wonder you’re so depressed.

The Bank Job

2008-09-09T10:15:00.000-07:00

I'll be honest with you, readers. 2008 has been a slow year for movies. Painful really. Our Netflix Queue is a deserted wasteland. We got nothing. Nothing even resembling a good feature film. I've got quite a few documentaries, a zillion TV shows and some questionable foreign and indie films that may or may not prove watchable. But movies? What gives, Hollywood?

Which brings me to The Bank Job. This one keeps popping up as a Netflix recommendation every time I visit the site and I was beginning to feel like someone at Netflix was trying to give me a sign. RENT IT! YOU'LL LOVE IT!

I thought I'd give it a try. I'm always up for a good caper. And really, how bad could it be?

Bad. Bad, bad. It's not even worth discussing here.When the "villain" is a man named Michael X, the Caribbean version of Malcolm X, you know you're in for it.

So my readers, if you have any suggestions for movies that are actually good and are currently available on Netflix, please share. We are growing desperate here.

Wristcutters: A Love Story

2008-09-03T06:24:00.000-07:00

If you're like me, nothing sends you running from a movie faster than phrases like:

...starring Sandra Bullock and Matthew McConaughey

...starring Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey

...starring Jennifer Lopez and Matthew McConaughey

Collectively, these idiots have ruined the genre of romantic comedy. Or maybe the genre was already ruined by a boring formula that never changes: girl is a photographer/fashion designer/wedding planner/celebrity assistant. Girl meets Matthew McConaughey. Girl stares hard into the distance. McConaughey charms girl using phrases like, "Aw shucks, buttercup, why don't you slap some jam on my bread," or "Easy little filly, you go on stompin' them hooves any harder and you're like to break my heart." Girl marries idiot. The end.

Which is why a romantic comedy like Wristcutters: A Love Story, is so refreshing. Maybe it takes a movie about suicide to bring the romance back to this tired genre. Wristcutters is set in a world populated by all the people who've ever committed suicide. It's a bleak, dreary world where the 'offed' live otherwise normal existences, working at jobs, eating meals, hanging out at bars, etc. It's just that they're all dead.

Patrick Fugit, whom you'll remember as the kid from Almost Famous, stars as the lovelorn Zia, searching the otherworld for his former girlfriend, whom he's just discovered killed herself a few months after him. Naturally, as romantic comedies will, this one has a love triangle involving the lovely Shannyn Sossamon, whose ethereal sadness is perfect for this melancholy love tale.

Wristcutters doesn't break any ground in the love triangle formula, but it's filled with so much charm, offbeat humor and quirky little joys that you'll forgive its predictability. I can't remember the last time I actually enjoyed watching one of these movies, but Wristcutters delivered. So the next time you're looking for a romantic comedy, you can weigh your choices: Suicide or Matthew McConaughey. Really, if you think about it, they're one in the same.

Reno 911: Miami

2008-08-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

Holy crap...how have I never watched Reno 911! before?

I have never seen a single episode, which is surprising given that I will watch any old crap on TV. And I mean anything. Yes, Paradise Hotel. Yes, Keeping up with the Kardashians. Yes, infomercial about Jack LaLaine's juice machine. Yes, that crappy show on Bravo about hair stylists. See what I mean? I have no filter. I WILL WATCH ANYTHING.

I can't say what possessed me to add Reno 911!: Miami to our Netflix queue but I'm so glad I did. Seriously, this movie is f-ing hilarious. Yes, it's stupid humor, but it's just done so well you can't help yourself but to love it. Think of it as Police Academy but with a bawdier, sharper sense of humor. And without that black guy who made funny noises with his mouth. BUT, with a a police guy who wears short shorts. It's a good trade.

If you haven't seen this movie yet, please rent it. As for me, I'm programming my DVR to start recording the Reno 911! TV series, just as soon as I finish all the episodes of Living Lohan. Ha, ha. Just kidding. Even I have standards.

The Gleaners and I

2008-08-25T11:31:00.000-07:00

Sure, this French documentary about people who "glean" leftover produce from fields and pick over trash cans in France was an interesting subject. Yes, it won a zillion awards from prestigious critics and film festivals. Yes, I appreciate artsy for the sake of fartsy...

BUT...

I think the fact that The Gleaners and I contained an entire chapter devoted to the documentarian watching her own lens cap bounce in front of the camera for five minutes tells you all you need to know.

King Corn

2008-08-13T11:15:00.000-07:00

“A documentary about CORN?” groaned Motley Husband upon seeing the telltale Netflix red envelope in our mailbox. Eye roll. Sigh. “Corn? Seriously?” His eyes had that furtive, escapist look a teenager gets when trapped with his grandparents at the Golden Corral during “All You Can Eat Soft Meat Tuesdays.”

I know, I know, corn doesn’t sound like the most exciting subject matter of all time, but bear with me because King Corn is a documentary every movie lover should see. It has all the best elements of a light-hearted documentary: an intriguing premise, affectionate characters, zippy storytelling and lovable storytellers.

King Corn is written by and stars Ian Cheney and Curtis Ellis, two genial East Coast college grads who set out to spend a year living in Iowa to raise an acre of corn and try to follow it through the American food chain. It doesn’t take a genius to see what comes next: the ills of mega-farm grain production and the impact of the prolific High Fructose Corn Syrup in American life. Let’s break it down:

-Mega farms equal the death of family homesteads
-Mass grain production equals feedlot cows with a deplorable quality of life
-Corn Syrup equals obesity, diabetes and, oh, hell, Satan

There, now you know. Corn Syrup is Satan. If you go down to hell you’re going to find a little red bottle of Karo with horns and a tail. Now please enjoy the rest of that corn syrup-soaked Frito you were just eating.

My point is that King Corn doesn’t tell us anything we don’t already know about the cancerous impact of mega farm production, but it tells it in a way that is humble and compelling. This isn’t a throw-acid-in-your-face and make-you-rescind-your-god kind of documentary. It has a gentle, loping pace reflective of the landscape in which it’s set. The salt-of-the-earth farmers who graciously and affectionately help Ian and Curtis farm their acre of corn are, of course, the victims in this race to make more food, faster and cheaper.

King Corn succeeds by telling their stories with simple humility. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt that the representative of the corn syrup association who appears in the film comes across as the very face of evil (you know, Karo bottle with horns). “Corn syrup is what makes a wonderful variety of food so affordable for American families.”

I suppose she has a point. After all, if it weren't for corn syrup, we wouldn't have such national treasures as Mountain Dew Baja Blast and Jimmy Dean Chocolate Chip Pancakes and Sausage on a Stick.

And yes, I've had them both.

There Will Be Blood

2008-08-12T07:16:00.000-07:00

I know There Will Be Blood is a movie I was supposed to love. I was supposed to find Daniel Day Lewis' performance as turn-of-the-century oil prospector Daniel Plainview riveting and explosive. I was supposed to be intrigued by the ethical implications that arise when greed, oil and religion combine. I was supposed to be horrified by the shades of evil and inhumanity at every turn.

But in the end, this is the word that came to me: eh.

Don't hate me, but I just didn't care for it. Maybe it was the ridiculous title. Or maybe it was the idea of watching a movie centered on two of my least-favored subjects: oil and fanatical religion, but something set a bad taste in my mouth about There Will Be Blood.

The film is ambitiously epic, centered on the cruel, calculating Daniel Plainview as he heartlessly wrests land from the hands of hardscrabble families to amass his oil empire through California. His character is a chameleon of evil, morphing into a silver-tongued charmer and a brutally cruel murderer at even turns. Plainview's recurring nemesis in the film is a self-proclaimed man of god, played with eerily haunting realism by Paul Dano. Think Malachi from Children of the Corn only spookier.

When these two characters interplay, the film is electric. It is a gruesome portrait of religion put in the wrong hands. It is supposed to make you uncomfortable. It is supposed to leave you chilled. But did that make it worthwhile to watch? I'm not sure. In the end, this is what I felt: There are films that are difficult to watch but are ultimately rewarding to the viewer. And then there are films that are difficult to watch and leave you with nothing afterwards. Guess where I stand on this one.

Summercamp!

2008-08-05T07:15:00.001-07:00

I had a college roommate who worked at a summer camp in New Hampshire. He claimed the biggest job he had to undertake was preventing the thirteen-year-old boys from dying of masturbation exhaustion. It’s not hard to imagine, given just a little taste of the hormonal teenage woes we saw in the documentary, Summercamp! Pair that with the bored, embittered counselors, the painfully awkward first-year campers and the “oh my god, how can you be this happy” camp owners and you have the stuff of a good documentary.

But somehow, it all fizzles in Summercamp.

Don’t get me wrong, there was great opportunity here. I was rapt with the bully who beat up other campers then cried every night because he missed his mommy. I loved seeing the camp counselors cockblocking lusty teenagers in the darkened shadows of the campfire. And who couldn’t be moved by the weird girl who carries around eight stuffed animals in her pockets to talk to when she gets lonely?

This was a movie of delicious subject matter put in what appears to be the hands of first-time film school students. It missed so much great opportunity to build a tantalizing story and the result felt like little more than a camcorder turned on and left in the corner.

But even inept film-making couldn’t dampen some moments of splendor in Summercamp, mostly captured through the unbidden moments of truth when campers spoke about life at home. Take the young boy saying he never wanted camp to end because when he goes back home, his dad is a lawyer so he’ll never see him much anyway. Or the girl who explains plainly that her parents want her to make friends at camp since she hasn’t been able to make any at home.

Such moments of innocent truth were heartbreakingly honest. I can only imagine how the parents of these children felt upon watching the film. I’d lay odds those kids got some big fat “mommy and daddy are sorry we’re a mess” presents under the Christmas tree that year.

My final take? Rent it if you’re just looking to feel mildly amused. You know, the same way you feel when you’re cruising through TV channels and you find yourself laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos and then you’re overcome by shame and horror as you realize you were just watching America’s Funniest Home Videos. Don’t lie. We’ve all been there.

Dan in Real Life

2008-07-29T05:46:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in between Little Miss Sunshine and one of my all-time favorite films, Home for the Holidays, you'll find Dan in Real Life: a plunky little romantic comedy that makes great use of star Steve Carell's charming awkwardness.

Dan is a widower who takes his three headstrong daughters to spend Thanksgiving with his family in Rhode Island. The sprawling, rambunctious family inhabits one of those Kennedy-esque weathered coastal homes that probably costs in the upwards of $15 million, even though the family lounges around in flannel and drives beat-up cars. Hmmm.

Dan's family and the cozy house provide the backdrop for the mixed-up love plot of the film in which Dan meets a love interest, Marie, played by Juliette Binoche, at a bookstore in town, only to discover later that she is the girlfriend of his rowdy brother, Mitch.

And here's where things turn ugly. Because, you see, Mitch is played, incapably, by comedian Dane Cook. Notice I said "comedian" not "actor," because there are many things Dane Cook is (alcohol-soaked, off-putting and frat-boyish to name a few) but "actor" is not one of them. Watching this bloated boob paw at the lovely Juliette Binoche was like watching a rottweiler holding a kitten in its mouth. As if the French didn't already have enough reasons to hate us.

In spite of the horrible casting of Dane Cook and a few sitcom-style plot turns, the film still captures that magic quality of off-beat humanity. Steve Carell's daughter screaming "You are a murderer of love!" is one of the funniest moments I've seen in any film in a long time and you can't help but be charmed by Carell's awkward vulnerability. And every time Dan's parents, played by John Mahoney and Dianne Weist, came onto the screen, you wanted to sit between them with an afghan and a mug of cocoa. They literally warmed the screen with their very presence.

And then that horse's ass Dane Cook would stumble into the scene and with one nasaly word, all the magic would disappear. Please, Hollywood, stop casting non-actors into otherwise good films. If I'm not mistaken, I believe they're still playing Mariah Carey's Glitter on the first floor of hell. Let's end it there.

In Bruges

2008-07-24T11:37:00.001-07:00

This just in: COLIN FARREL IS STILL ALIVE!

WHICH IS APPARENTLY SHOCKING ENOUGH FOR ALL CAPS!

There, I'm done. I'm just a little surprised. You see, I thought Colin Farrel was taking one of those extended celebrity leaves for "exhaustion." You know, the kind where he's so exhausted that he has to spend a few years in a five-star palace in Arizona until he no longer pees Guinness and sweats crystal meth.

But then he shows up in a very decent little film, In Bruges. This is a movie you probably saw listed on the marquee at your theater and said to yourself, "In Brooges? In Broosh? In... oh hell, I'll just go see Spiderman 3 instead."

For those of you as geographically challenged as I, Bruges (soft "g", silent "s") is a city in Belgium. Now you can impress your friends at your next cocktail party. In the film, Colin Farrel plays part of a European hitman duo sent to Bruges to hide out after a botched hit. I won't spoil the plot but suffice it to say that Farrel's boss, played by the unctuous Ralph Fiennes, has other plans in mind for the two than just a holiday in Bruges.

What's good about In Bruges? It's not a clunky, overblown script. There's some great dialogue. There are moments of subtle, intelligent humor. There are moments of intense heartache. There is a midget.

What's bad about In Bruges? The biggest problem is that this film doesn't know what it wants to be. A dark comedy? A soft thriller? A tale of despair? It doesn't do justice to any of the three, which isn't to say that it wasn't enjoyable to watch. Even Colin Farrel, for all of his twitchy undercurrent of nerves/heroin hunger (allegedly) managed to turn in a touching performance.

My only other beef with the film was that watching the lovely Ralph Fiennes play a rough-edged cockney thug was rather like seeing the Queen wearing sweat pants and scarfing down a bag of Cheetos. It just didn't wash.

The Dark Knight

2008-07-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

Standing in a ridiculously long line to get into the theater to watch Dark Knight, we spotted a grown man wearing full Joker face make-up. Given that it was 95-degrees out, I imagine he spent the rest of his day scrubbing melted make-up out of his upholstery. At least he could console himself with the knowledge that it was TOTALLY WORTH RUINING HIS CAR. This is the kind of sacrifice Dark Knight inspires in its fans. It’s comic book film-making at its very best.

The cast? Phenomenal. Thank god they ditched Katie Holmes, whose former performance as Rachel Dawes feels like a kid playing dress-up compared to Maggie Gyllenhaal’s cool composure. And while Gyllenhaal still resembles the sad girl you knew in high school who was always inking angry poems on her forearms, there is something magnetic about her doe-eyed wistfulness. I wasn’t as impressed with Aaron Eckhart’s good-boy turn as Harvey Dent but to be fair, the Dent role was probably the most thin and one-dimensional of the entire cast.

But you don’t really care about Gyllenhaal and Eckhart do you? You want to know about Heath Ledger. His Joker was just as brilliant as you’ve heard. A complicated mix of leering sociopathy and charm. Possibly the greatest villain we’ve encountered since Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter. I pity the person who will have to pick-up the helm from Ledger. Unless that person is Edward Norton in which case I will be totally psyched.

And while I’m still a little wary of Christian Bale and his muskrat teeth, he is winning me over as Batman. Although I did catch myself snickering here and there at the raspy, deep-voice he uses whenever he’s in the Batman costume. He’s Batman, not Marlboro Man, Bale.

Now onto director Christopher Nolan, who shall be heretofore known as “The Jesus Christ of Cinema.” I’ve said it before but if he directed me out of my driveway each morning, it would definitely win an Oscar. Nolan practically assaults the audience in Dark Knight with a non-stop barrage of violence, brutality and action. That level of action combined with the sub-stories of so many characters makes the film feel overloaded at times, but we were happy to be along for the ride.

Emerging from the theater back into daylight and reality, I felt dazed and wrung out, as if I’d ingested a gallon of Red Bull and crawled through an automatic car wash. But then I saw the nerd with white make-up dripping all over the carpet and I felt like all was right with the world again.

Extras Series Finale

2008-07-22T10:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Ricky Gervais,
It really pains me to write this. Really pains me. You have no idea. You see, I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. I adore everything you’ve ever written or acted in. So you can imagine how hard it is for me to break up with you. And no, I didn’t plan to do this through a letter, but face-to-face is more difficult given that you don’t even know I exist. And the fact that you’d probably issue a restraining order against me that bandied about the term “stalker” if we ever did meet.

Alas…

I just watched the series finale episode to Extras, "The Extra Special Series Finale" and I’ve determined that we need to spend a little time apart. It’s not me, Ricky. It’s you.

You are a comedian, Ricky. You are a funny man. So to make me endure nearly two hours of mostly humorless, indulgent and sentimental tripe was just not fair. There is a reason that, say, Chris Rock has never been cast as Hamlet. We like our funny men to be funny. Seeing you mope through two hours of film was like going to a dry wedding. It was a total bummer.

Don’t get me wrong, you did have some moments of sublime humor and your castmates, particularly your hapless agent, were brilliant. And I did love the ending. But all in all it was a bit of a bummer. So we have to spend a little time apart Ricky. But don't worry, like any good stalker, I will be back.

Abiento,
M.Q.

Happy Birthday to the Motley Queue

2008-07-22T10:50:00.000-07:00

Hmmm....52 weeks equals a year right? So since this post started my 52nd week of blogging, I guess that means the Motley Queue just started teething. Hurrah. Moving forward I'm going to dispense with logging the weeks for each review. Frankly, my math abilities don't extend that far.

Cheers,
Motley Queue

Week 51: The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

2008-07-15T12:28:00.001-07:00

It should have come as no surprise to me that the movie with the longest title in history might actually BE the longest movie in history. Alas, with a 2.5 hour plus running time, you'll probably be saying to yourself the same thing we did, "Hey, I already know from the title that Jesse James gets assassinated. So why are we dragging this out for 2.5 hours?"

The answer? Because actually, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford is a pretty good movie, even though you know how it ends (HE DIES!) and even though Casey Affleck is in it. I think the Academy Awards might have been a tad generous in giving Affleck a nomination for his role as Robert Ford, but then I am reminded that in 2007, his competition included such cinematic masterpieces as Wild Hogs and Norbit. I won't even provide a link to those titles because you do not need to fill your brain with anything more on those two turds.

Back to the movie: maybe I'm a sucker for outlaws and westerns, but I thought this was a surprisingly good story. It has great moments of tension and the build-up to the assassination is terrific. What feels really strange about this movie is the narration throughout, which is obviously dialogue from a book, not dialogue for a movie. It was weird and clunky. Also, the ending of the movie, post-assassination, drags out FOREVER. It felt very much like the seven or eight endings to the last Lord of the Rings movie, minus the homo-erotic hobbits. Which, let's be honest, would have really perked things up a bit.

Motley Queue Congratulates Nicole Kidman

2008-07-07T12:58:00.000-07:00

Congratulations, Nicole Kidman, on the birth of your daughter, Sunday Rose.

Except that you named your child after a day of the week and a shade of Mary Kay lipstick my grandma wore in 1951.

Kidman, we will assume this is the influence of all that botox going to your brain. Maybe it's time to lay off, huh? Just a smidge? Please stop before you give birth to Sunday Rose's sibling, Thursday Milkweed.

Week 50: Semi-Pro

2008-07-07T07:34:00.000-07:00

Will Ferrell, you are back in my good graces again after that awful mess you made with the ice skating movie. No, Semi-Pro won't surprise you with anything resembling a plot. Nor will there be any unexpected body gags and too-tight costuming on Mr. Ferrell. But yes, you will have a few great laughs out of the movie thanks to Ferrell's one-liners and the dry commentary provided by the Flint Tropics sportscasters.

My big beef with this movie? It has a name, and it's Woody Harrelson. I can't stand that tool. I suggest you read chef/author Anthony Bourdain's treatise on why Woody Harrelson is the WORLD'S BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG if you don't know why.

And it didn't help that he spent the entire movie wearing the wig he wore in Kingpin. Seriously, Woody Harrelson? Was John C. Reilly busy? Can't we give Rainn Wilson a chance? How is this waste of vegan produce still getting roles? I almost fell out of my chair when Woody Harrelson got cast in No Country for Old Men. What a waste. I think the Academy should take away the Best Picture award for what we'll call "The Harrelson Clause of Film Ruination."

I'm gonna go eat a big, juicy meaty hamburger and comb my full head of hair now just to piss him off.

Week 50: Michael Clayton

2008-07-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

Oh, George Clooney, you scamp. Here I was, set to vilify Motley Husband for slipping Michael Clayton into our queue. For no good reason, I was convinced this movie was dreadfully self-important like that hot mess, Syriana. Or a complete disappointment like The Good German. But Michael Clayton is good, Georgie. You’re back on your game, pal, with a thriller that was actually thrilling. Sure, I spent the first fifteen minutes of the film trying to figure out what subtle facial plastic surgery has rendered you looking about ten years younger [tiny face lift? Mini brow lift? It’s there. I just can’t pinpoint it].

George, I'm trying to say it was a totally captivating film. So captivating, I wonder how he did it…[cue dream sequence music here]

CLOONEY: Brad Pitt, it’s becoming tiresome just getting by on our looks, isn’t it?

PITT: A little, yes. But then again, my looks went away about five years ago. Lucky for me I snagged the title of “International Do-Gooder” right before they faded.

CLOONEY: Yes, you did, you sneaky bastard. Right about the time I fell on my handsome face with that Ocean’s 13 or 14 business. Which one are we on now?

PITT: I’m pretty sure it was Ocean’s 16 but who can tell? I’m too busy helping refugees and making beautiful, beautiful babies with my hot wife – er – life partner. Clooney, I seem to be developing a sweat here. Can you instruct your servants to form a human shade shield around me? This fan I fashioned out of thousand-dollar bills isn’t doing much.

CLOONEY: Maybe you want to sit to the left of my Academy Award. It’s rather large, provides a lot of shade.

PITT: Don’t try to flaunt your Oscar to me. I’m above awards, Clooney. I’m too busy feeding starving orphans in Myanamoor.

CLOONEY: Don’t you mean Myanmar?

PITT: I could buy and sell you, Clooney.

CLOONEY: YOUR WIFE IS A WACKADOO!!!

PITT: Let’s not turn on each other. And she's not my wife. Let’s have a sip of this $9,000 bottle of wine I found next to the Doritos in your pantry. We need to relax. It’s been at least forty-five minutes since our last massage.

CLOONEY: You’re right, you’re right. I think this solid gold chaise lounge is making me tense.

PITT: You should try mine, it’s made out of live Portuguese orphans. They’re very bendy. But let’s get back to your career, George. You need a hit, my friend.

CLOONEY: Maybe the next Ocean’s sequel will recapture the magic of the first one. Maybe we’ll replace Julia Roberts with that Miley Cyrus. Or we could replace Sammy Davis – I mean Don Cheadle -- with another, um, ethnic choice. How do you feel about Mexicans?

PITT: Hey, I have an idea. What if you actually just made a good movie?

CLOONEY: Pitt, you are a genius, my friend. Why didn’t I think of that? This calls for a celebration. Manservant! Fill the bathtub with caviar and champagne. Daddy’s gonna be baptized a movie star all over again.

Week 49: La Vie En Rose

2008-06-30T12:31:00.001-07:00

I was on the fence about renting La Vie En Rose until I developed a mad girl crush on Marion Cotillard when she accepted her Academy Award earlier this year. Remember her in the dress that vaguely resembled a tilapia filet? She was so lovely and unbotoxed. (Pay attention, Nicole Kidman)

If you're like me, you probably have no idea who Edith Piaf was. Conversely, like me you probably know volumes about Britney Spears. Sigh. I digress... Piaf was a scrappy street-born singer who became a French national icon. As soon as you hear the songs, you'll know exactly who she is. Her voice is unmistakable.

Piaf's life was a trainwreck of celebrity and tragedy. She's one part Eliza Doolittle, one part Ava Peron and one part stray dog. It's a charming combination. The film is really successful at showing us all the shades of Piaf's self-destructiveness but fails by trying to cram too much in. Example: in one scene she's being grilled by the police over involvement in the murder of her manager. The scene is never resolved or referenced again. We assume she wasn't imprisoned, but who knows. Also, did she have three husbands? Several lovers? Token gays? Or were they just managers? Who could tell?

On a final note, serious kudos to the make-up team for making Cotillard look so homely throughout the entire film. Edith Piaf was many things, but a looker she was not.

Broken DVD Yet Again

2008-06-25T05:46:00.000-07:00

We're on a bad roll with Netflix. We've been sitting on the Michael Clayton DVD for a few days and stupidly never removed it from its package. If we had, we'd have seen that the disc was broken in two. So, sorry readers. We'll have to play the waiting game with Netflix now on a new disc.

Stay tuned for reviews coming hopefully soon!

Week 49: Weeds Season Three, Disc One

2008-06-23T08:49:00.000-07:00

Season 3 of Weeds! Watching this show is like finding a $20 bill in the pocket of an old coat – it will make you smile for at least an hour. There’s nothing too heavy about this show, it’s just consistently funny, despite Kevin Nealon’s bad attempts at acting and Elizabeth Perkin’s atrociously over-the-top character.

But I spent most of my time on this first half of season 3 contemplating my once beloved Mary Louise Parker, who plays the show’s heroine, Nancy Botwin. Maybe I’m still ticked that Ms. Parker offed her original nose on what was otherwise an unusually attractive face, but she’s driving me nuts this season. So much open-mouthed staring. So much frazzled mumbling and slurred reactions. It’s like she’s acting underwater or is just constantly waking up from a groggy nap. Here’s how I imagine the director coaches her in each scene:

DIRECTOR: Okay, Mary. Is it okay if I call you Mary? Or do I have to go through with the whole Mary-Louise thing? It's a bit much. Kind of makes you sound like a housewife from Indiana in 1940.

MLP: What if the color I call blue is really what you see as green?

DIRECTOR: Okay, um, I don’t know about that but I guess we’ll go with Mary-Louise. So in this scene, I need you to act sort of helpless, lost and vaguely stoned.

MLP: [stares with huge doe eyes] Obejwanot mmamburger.

DIRECTOR: Hmmm? What was that? You’re look is great right now, Mary-Louise. You’re really capturing Nancy’s trauma and shock. I’m just wondering if you can make your eyes even wider and doey-er? I really want you to look like you’ve just spent a night watching a laser light show set to a Led Zeppelin soundtrack.

MLP: Ingul volger handashery.

DIRECTOR: Are you, uh, are you having some kind of motionless seizure?

MLP: My thumbs are so big.

DIRECTOR: Okay, Mary-Louise, can I get you some coffee or something? Maybe a Red Bull?

MLP: Bull. Bulls. Balls. Bowls. Bows. Slurbyderber.

DIRECTOR: Can someone bring me a pot of black coffee and one of those giant needles filled with adrenaline? You know, like the one in Pulp Fiction? Really pump that sucker full of some serious shit. Maybe an electric blanket? Jumper cables? I NEED HELP, PEOPLE!

MLP: Bumbleduffer nyugen

Week 48: My Kid Could Paint That

2008-06-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

[note: this review has a fair amount of detail about the plot, so don't read past the third paragraph if you'd rather be surprised!]

Welcome to my newest obsession. I seriously can't stop thinking about this movie. My Kid Could Paint That takes a close look at the family of Marla Olmstead, a four-year-old painting prodigy whose abstract paintings fetch an upwards of $15,000 - $25,000. Jealous? Yeah, me too.

The hook of this story is unbelievable: a dad sets his four-year-old down at a canvas with some paint and lets her play. A friend who owns a coffee shop asks to put the paintings up...a gallery owners spots one and expresses interest...a local journalist writes a story on Marla...the New York Times picks up the story...in walks journalists and art critics from all over the world and suddenly Marla is famous and her work is flying off the shelves.

For the first thirty minutes of the film, you are amazed at how unbelievable this child is. And then the ball drops when a 60 Minutes expose suggests very strongly that Marla's father might be doing the paintings or at the very least, touching them up to give them more polish.

They filmed Marla completing a painting and it truly doesn't resemble the quality level of her other paintings. Even a second painting she completes while on camera -- her parents' attempt to disprove her critics -- looks markedly more childlike and amateur than her gallery work.

It raises a lot of intriguing questions about the value of abstract art: if the art is really good, should its value be changed no matter if a 4-year-old or a 40-year-old painted it? Roll that one around in your noodle.

What's so fascinating is you get to watch the documentary maker begin to doubt Marla's family as the film progresses. The movie ends on a very ambiguous note. Her dad evidenced some very sketchy behavior in the latter half of the film and has an unfortunate tendency toward verbal diarrhea when he's under pressure, which doesn't help make his case. I really want to believe Marla is the real deal. I just can't decide.

You've got to watch this film to make the judgement for yourself. As for me? I'm buying my kid some paint and am planning to sit back and wait for the cash to roll in. Judging by the crayon work she's done on our dining room wall so far, I'm expecting to earn at least $0-$1.

Week 48: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

2008-06-12T06:37:00.001-07:00

When you hear what this movie is about -- a paralyzed man trapped inside his body who can only communicate by blinking his one good eye -- I bet your reaction will be like mine: "dear god, I would rather spend the evening scrubbing my toilets using nothing but a wild raccoon than watch this film."

But I swear to you, it's actually not a depressing movie.

Honest.

DB&B is surprisingly beautiful and inspiring. Yes, the subject matter is devastating. Yes, it's filled with quite a bit of melancholy and sadness. But the filming is so beautiful and interesting (most of the film is shot from the perspective of Bauby's one good eye), you'll be riveted.

It's even more astounding when you learn that the film is based on the true story of former French Elle editor, Jean-Dominique Bauby. During his paralysis, Bauby's caretakers devised a way of reading him the alphabet and communicating through blinking when the correct letter was recited. Bauby eventually dictated an entire autobiography, of the same name as the film, through blinking the alphabet.

And you thought you were busy.

Go rent this film.

Week 47: The Venture Bros. Season 1

2008-06-10T06:45:00.000-07:00

Nerd Alert!

I was a huge, huge fan of the early 1990's animated cartoon, The Tick. It was short-lived but was one of the funniest cartoons of all time. I still have a Tick action figure wearing a t-shirt proclaiming "I love wheat!" If I had a therapist, I'm sure he'd have a field day with that little confession.

I wasn't sure what the Cartoon Network's adult-swim show, The Venture Bros was even about, but we got the disc last week and laughed our way through the whole thing. This hilarious cartoon is very Tick-reminiscent. I shouldn't have been surprised to learn that two of the show's writers come from the Tick and and my beloved Patrick Warburton (who was the voice of the Tick and was also Elaine's boyfriend, Putty, on Seinfeld) is the voice of Dr. Venture's ridiculous bodyguard, Brock Samson.

The Venture Bros follows snarky genius scientist, Dr. Venture, his bodyguard and his two clueless, slightly effeminate teenage sons on their adventures against a riotous assortment of villains. To give you a little flavor, one episode we watched was centered entirely on Dr. Venture trying to get laid while wearing a leisure suit and a really bad toupee. In another episode, Dr. Venture's sons almost meet their doom while their dad is busy trying to clean pee out of his space suit.

I am in love with The Venture Bros. The writing is incredible. It's really smart and witty; I just may need to watch each episode a few times because we laughed over much of the dialogue. The show is still airing live in its third season on the Cartoon Network right now, which means I'm off to program my DVR to capture it all.

Week 47: The Savages

2008-06-04T14:04:00.000-07:00

A Motley Debate about this one:

On the one hand, The Savages has excellent writing and stellar performances by stars Laura Linney and Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

On the other hand, it's DEPRESSING AS HELL. The plot? Two adult siblings in the throes of their own failed life crises have to drop everything to care for their elderly father who's dying of dementia. Did I mention that the father is very angry to boot?

The movie maintains just enough humor to keep you from throwing yourself into bed with all the lights off and the curtains closed, but just barely. This is heavy stuff for anyone of a certain age with parents of a certain age. Sort of like looking into the mirror of the future and seeing all the tragi-comedy that will ensue.

Laura Linney steers the boat of this movie and manages as usual to deliver a spot-on performance, creating a character who is relatable and real. In the end, I'd recommend renting it but this is definitely a watch-it-once-and-never-again kind of movie.

Week 46: The Wire, Season One

2008-06-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

Okay readers, we wrapped up Season 1 of HBO's copy drama, The Wire, this weekend and we only have one thing to say: BEST COP SHOW EVER.

If you haven’t watched it yet, throw down your computer and run -- run I say -- to your video store or get on the line with Netflix immediately. I am stunned by how good this show is. So realistic. So action-packed. So intelligent. So…not like any of that cop-show crap you’ll find on regular TV. Yes, I'm talking about you, David Caruso.

I think what makes The Wire so good is that the bad guys aren’t your typical bad guys. These are fully dimensional characters whom we learn to like and hate at the same time. Even the cops aren’t just good cops. They’ve got some dirty little secrets of their own.

The thrill of watching the team of detectives hunt down gang lord Avon Barksdale was edge-of-your-seat, intelligent drama. I can’t wait for Netflix to bring me season two.

On a funny/related note, hubby and I upgraded our cable recently and the cable company accidentally gave us access to all the premium channels. We thought we were in hog heaven. Sadly, they figured out their mistake and within 24 hours we were back to watching basic cable. Sigh. It’s probably for the best though. Me + 13 HBO channels = permanent dent in sofa.

Week 46: Atonement

2008-05-28T11:53:00.000-07:00

Hurrah! The new TV is finally playing nicely with the DVD player! So, it turns out the idiots at the Motley Queue household simply had to press a weird button in the nether regions of the remote control to get the DVD player to talk to the TV, but what's new?

We kicked off the new TV with a ceremonial viewing of Atonement. I have to brag here and add that I read the book YEARS before it was an inkling in a movie director's mind. Suck it, Oprah. It's a phenomenal book and perfect stuff to be translated to the screen...

...and then they cast Kiera Knightly. Sigh.

I know, I know. She's very easy on the eyes. She's spunky. She's spirited. But she's also whiny, nasal and fairly unskilled at the art of subtlety. I felt like I was watching a spoiled American teenager giving a bad British impersonation. I want somebody to feed her a cheeseburger and teach her how to stop sneering so much.

If anything saves the movie it's Knightly's talented co-stars including James McAvoy who very nearly drips with good-boy charm. And that little girl playing young Briony was like a freakishly small and precocious version of Jodie Foster. We'll be seeing more of her, I'm sure.

Unfortunately, I'm sure we'll be seeing more of Kiera Knightly as well. Still, if you haven't seen the movie you should rent it. It's worth a viewing. Better yet, read the book.

New TV Means No DVDs for Now

2008-05-21T06:04:00.000-07:00

After ten glorious and fulfilling of watching a jaw-dropping 19" Daewoo television in all its amazing, rich, crisp and detailed wonder, Motley Husband and I finally retired that marvel of technology yesterday in favor of a 42" plasma TV that was finally purchased after much hoarding of gift cards and coupons to Best Buy. (Seriously, I thought the teenager checking me out thought it was a joke when I handed him half a dozen cards and coupons. I was his worst nightmare).

We excitedly unpacked the TV last night and set about the brain-squeezing task of training component video, s-video and audio cables from our home theater receiver to our cable box, to our DVD player, to our TV and back again. It looks like a wire monster threw up behind our TV stand.

Awesome: we got cable to run to the TV.
Crap: something is wrong with the picture. Missing a component video cable?
Awesome: the picture is HUGE!
Crap: The DVD player doesn't work. Missing cables again? Could be. We don't know.
Awesome: we didn't lose our DVR programs in the transition
Crap: I'm supposed to blog about movies and have no way to watch them without a DVD player
Awesome: did I mention the picture is HUGE?!

So, it's back to Best Buy for me again today to purchase an assortment of cables that might make sense of the 48 jacks on the back of the TV. Until we can get this problem solved (hopefully without breaking down and paying some snotty teenager to come hook it up for us), no posts, dear readers. I promise they'll be coming back soon. I hope.

Week 45: Eagle Vs. Shark

2008-05-20T10:55:00.000-07:00

Cute movie.
Charming accents.
Can’t stop trying to imitate them.
Goofball actors.
Girl in shark costume is adorable lovable.
A-hole in eagle costume is unbelievably a-holish.
But loved him anyway.
Beating up a guy in a wheelchair? Brilliant.
Should you rent it?
Mos def.
Is it going to change your life?
Nah.
But it’s still pretty sweet.

Week 45: DiG!

2008-05-19T12:26:00.000-07:00

Music fan? Here's a documentary you have to see. DiG! follows the careers of two rising indy bands: The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Wharhols. What's great about the film is that both bands give a total-access view into their triumphs, failures and madness on the road to greatness (Big emphasis on madness). It really felt like the bands opened up all their dirty, crazy laundry for us to root through.

While the documentary starts out to chronicle both bands, most of the time is spent, appropriately so, on the insane and outlandish antics of musical genius-come-insane-heroin-addict, Anton Newcombe, the leader of the Brian Jonestown Massacre. The Dandy Warhols come off looking a bit like the Brady Bunch by comparison to the lunacy over at BJM. Although, it should be noted that both band leaders have egos the size of a football field, which makes all the insanity even more fun to watch.

Anton is a musical genius and everyone hails him as the next great thing...if only he weren't so f*ing crazy. It's worth watching DiG! to see his antics alone, like when he starts a fistfight with his own bandmates in front of record execs who were planning to sign him to a contract. Brilliant.

Did both bands make it? Do they go on to fame and fortune? I won't ruin it for you but let's just say I haven't seen Anton or any of the Dandy Warhols on the cover of US Weekly. Yet.

Week 45: No Country For Old Men

2008-05-08T14:41:00.001-07:00

Okay, you don't need me to tell you that No Country For Old Men is a fantastic movie. It won approximately seven thousand Oscars. It is great. And yes, the Dorothy Hamill hairdo on Javier Bardem makes his psychopathic killer sweetly dorky.

So instead of boring you with glowing praise for the movie (although I hated the abrupt ending. Heaven help me, I love resolution), let's instead focus on one of my favorite subjects: Josh Brolin.

I loved Josh Brolin in The Goonies. Who didn't, right? And he was great in American Gangster. And he was...in other things? My point is that there was an odd spell of say twenty-five years in which Brolin wasn't getting roles...until his daddy went and married Barbra Streisand. My theory is that Babs would do anything to get her good-for-nothing stepson out of the house, even if it meant pulling a few strings with her precisely manicured nails at the big Hollywood studios. Here's how I like to think it went:

BABS: James! James Brolin Streisand! Get in here this instant.

JAMES: [rushes in, moves to Bab's left side per his orders] Honey, what is it?

BABS: James, I am holding a Japanese silk pillow that my close personal friend, Donna Karan, hand-dyed to match the color of my earlobes at dusk.

JAMES: It's lovely, dear. [laughs nervously]

BABS: Is it, James? Is it? Because it looks to me like this piece of fringe is crumpled. AS IF SOMEONE USED THIS PILLOW!!!!

JAMES: I'm sure no one would use any of the 178 pillows you keep piled on every surface of our entire house, lovey. What with all the candles constantly lit to show you in the best light, it would be foolhardy to use flammable materials near them.

BABS: Someone did, James, and I think we both know who it was.

JAMES: Oh, honey, you can't keep blaming Josh for everything.

BABS: Your Josh is ruining our romance! He looks me in the eye, he speaks to me without being spoken to first and he -- I can barely say it out loud -- uses fluorescent lightbulbs.

JAMES: [gasps]

BABS: He has to go, James.

JAMES: I know, Barbra. Um, sorry, Madame Streisand.

BABS: I'm getting him out of the house once and for all. Bring me a telephone, James. The one Donna Karan designed to wear a tiny caftan and matching scarf.

JAMES: The purple one?

BABS: IT'S CALLED AUBERGINE, YOU IDIOT. AND STOP STANDING ON MY RIGHT SIDE!!!

[end scene]

Week 44: I Am Legend

2008-05-07T07:34:00.000-07:00

Hey, look everyone! It's just like Shawn of the Dead, ONLY F***ING TERRIFYING.

It is no secret I am not a fan of Will Smith. And so it pained me to willingly rent one of this movies. But it turns out I Am Legend is pretty damn good, in spite of Will Smith. And let me assure you he did his best to inject his macho ego-maniacal enthusiasm into what is otherwise a pretty serious role. If anyone else had been cast in the lead of this film, I think it would have been spectacular. But with Will Smith, it was just pretty damn good. Why Will Smith remains so popular astounds me. Doesn't anyone else remember that HE WAS THE FRESH PRINCE OF BEL AIR? Am I alone on this one? DJ Jazzy Jeff, you'll back me up on this one, right?

I Am Legend is set in a post-apocalyptic New York in which a deadly virus has wiped out most of the population and turned the survivors into hyper-aggressive zombies who can only come out at night. The sunlight burns them and makes them hiss, much the way I am after emerging from a nice nap. Will Smith remains as the only human immune from the virus who, it just happens, is also one of the doctors who helped develop the virus. I won't spoil any of the plot for you here. It does contain a lot of edge-of-your-seat suspense that makes it very fun to watch and not a little terrifying. After we finished it, we turned to each other and said, "Did we just watch a horror movie? Starring the Fresh Prince?" I think we did. Jiggy.

Week 44: Small Town Gay Bar

2008-05-07T07:06:00.000-07:00

And the winner for "Title Most Likely to Make Holly Rent a Movie" is...Small Town Gay Bar! By a landslide!

Gay bars hidden in rural Mississippi? Are you kidding me? I can't pass up on that. Too bad the movie itself didn't live up to the promise of the title. True, it does follow the lives of several patrons of a few gay bars in the back woods of Mississipi and Kansas, but STGB is pretty light fare. I was expecting much more grit about the conflict between the under-the-radar gays and the holier-than-thou bible-beaters hoping to purge their towns of such 'sinful' behavior. And while the documentary touches on the underlying hatred, fear and bigotry, it mostly focuses on the touchy-feely aspects of what a gay bar means to its patrons. The bars are the only outlet for most of these people to be free, open and truly themselves. It is touching to watch the bars' patrons express such a deep need to feel accepted and connected.

And let's talk about those patrons. My, oh, my. There are some slim pickins in the deep south. These are not the tanned, plucked and abdominally clenched gays of the North. Oh, no. These are the step-up-to-the-buffet, come back to my trailer, stroke my mullet gays. In short, I was very concerned about the amount of flannel going around.

The biggest question for me was wondering why gay people stay in the deep south. It is a hard and arduous life, and there is no doubt it is a very dangerous existence. But I suppose it's those small inroads of seeing gay people as neighbors, coworkers and friends that may begin to soften the bible-beating masses. Still, gay people of the South, naming your gay bar Rumors really doesn't help the situation. Might I make a few suggestions:

BAD names for a secret gay bar
1. Rumors
2. Whispers from the Closet
3. The Liza Minelli Fan Club
4. Big Gay Al's
5. The Delta (Drag) Queen

GOOD names for a secret gay bar
1. Hetero and Lovin' It
2. No Funny Business Here
3. Straight Harry's House of Brew and Bible Readings
4. Men Who Love to Hump Women
5. Church

Curses! Broken DVD Strikes!

2008-04-30T05:51:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of posts this week. We watched the second disc of The Wire over the weekend but I can't figure out how to keep talking about this show without just giving away every detail of the plot. So...I think I'm going to keep renting it but will leave it out of the Motley Queue at least until I'm done with the entire first season.

Second...we got our disc on Monday for this documentary I've been dying to see, Small Town Gay Bar. But sadly, the disc was broken in two so we're playing the mailman waiting game with Netflix to get a fresh disc. Sigh.

I promise, new posts will be coming soon.

Week 43: Into the Wild

2008-04-23T05:33:00.000-07:00

Years ago, hubby and I went on an impromptu camping trip deep in an Ohio state forest. We were young and poor and could only afford the tiniest of tents, which forced us to leave all our gear and food outside all night. Lucky for us, our poverty probably saved our lives as somewhere in the vicinity of 3am, a huge black bear paid us a visit, growled menacingly outside our tent and ate our food while we lay paralyzed by fear on the other side of a one-millimeter vinyl barrier.

That was, needless to say, the last time I went camping. These days, my idea of camping is staying at a Holiday Inn instead of a Hyatt. So you can imagine that watching Into the Wild left me feeling like a bit of a pansy. If you don't already know, Into the Wild is based on the true-life story of Chris McCandless, an upper-middle-class college graduate who decides to chuck all the trappings of his comfortable life in favor of traveling to Alaska to live off the land. And when I say chuck, I mean literally: burning his money, cutting up his social security card, giving his savings account to Oxfam.

It's a pretty noble gesture on one hand. I felt a little sad sitting in my suburban home while he's out petting bald eagles and kayaking on wild river rapids. On the other hand, as you watch Chris disappear off the radar and completely cut ties with his family without ever letting them know what he's doing and if he's alive or dead, I found myself hating him a little. The premise of his story is that Chris' parents had a very rocky and sometimes violent marriage that left him pretty scarred. Scarred enough to walk out of their lives without a trace. It comes across though as a little bit of a spoiled rich kid who doesn't have enough life experience to see that other people have a far worse situation than his own. But I digress.

Sean Penn directs the film and just as I would have guessed, he falls a little bit in love with his own ability to direct things. Like two hours and thirty minutes in love with himself. Much of the scenes in the movie are long with scenery and contemplation and short with action and dialogue. I guess Sean Penn wanted the viewer to get a true feeling of the loneliness and isolation Chris experienced in the wilderness all alone. Mission accomplished. We got the point though, Mr. Penn, after about a half hour. Beyond that, we started fast-forwarding here and there to move things along.

I can't stop thinking about whether or not to admire or loathe McCandless, which I suppose means the film was a succss at stirring up debate and making us question our own life choices. It's a riveting story and the scenery really is amazing to watch. Just keep your fast-forward button handy.

Week 43: The King of Kong: A fistful of Quarters

2008-04-21T07:08:00.000-07:00

Pictured: Donkey Kong Legend and

First-Class A-Hole, Billy Mitchell

Warning: if you have a strong aversion to the desperate smell of adult virgins, the Motley Queue highly encourages you to avoid this film. However, if you love the idea of startlingly outrageous nerds waging the nerdiest of nerd wars as they battle for the title of World Champion Donkey Kong player, then pull up a chair my friend; you are in for a treat.

In my history of watching documentaries, I have to put Spellbound, Supersize Me and now King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters in my top three. This is one of the most mesmerizing movies I’ve ever watched. Motley Husband and I were glued to the screen as nice-guy nerd, Steve Weibe, humbly goes about winning the highest recorded score of Donkey Kong ever while his poor children stand over his shoulder and beg him to make eye contact with them.

Meanwhile, the self-proclaimed rock star of the championship gaming circuit and former Donkey Kong champ, Billy Mitchell, has been holding onto a videotape of himself allegedly recording an even higher score.

What follows next is a bitter battle over the championship title in which legions of nerds loyal to Billy Mitchell set out to discredit and humiliate Steve Weibe. I’m not kidding you; it even involves sending secret agents to Steve Weibe’s garage to take apart his Donkey Kong machine to see if he tampered with the motherboard.

What else makes this movie so great? Two words: Billy Mitchell. If you don’t remember what 1982 was like, don’t worry. Billy Mitchell is still living there, right down to his mega-mullet and high-waist jeans. Someone should give this douche a talk show if for no other reason than to give him more of an audience for talking about how great Billy Mitchell is.

I won’t spoil the results of the final battle between Weibe and Mitchell, but let’s just say that the air was thick with the smell of Aqua Net, comic book ink and loneliness. I can’t stress this enough: rent King of Kong right away. You won’t be disappointed.

On a related note, this blogger would like to mention that she once held the high score on the Centipede machine in the lobby of Studio 35 Cinema and Drafthouse here in Columbus. Does that make me an uber-nerd? Possibly. But nonetheless, I’d like it to be mentioned in my obituary just the same. I mean, c’mon, high score!

Week 42: American Gangster

2008-04-16T10:20:00.000-07:00

Russell Crowe, you just won't leave me alone, will you? Quit popping up in good films and tainting them with your ego-stink, you naughty Aussie. Although I didn't loathe you in American Gangster, I couldn't get over how much your '70s hairdo made you look like a ghostly incarnation of the late Croc Hunter, Steve Irwin. Crikey.

All that aside, I have to give American Gangster serious props. The plot is huge and it was so enjoyable to watch the action unfold. I don't care much for Crowe or Denzel "my sh*t don't stink" Washington, but I actually enjoyed both of them in this film. Denzel, starring as self-made drug lord, Frank Lucas, does a pretty amazing job of balancing his character's murderous temper with his deeply empathetic side. Crowe's role as detective Richie Roberts is pretty one-dimensional. Wow, he's an honest cop who doesn't take bribes. I have shivers.

It's really Josh Brolin, who plays the dirtiest of dirty cops, who electrifies every scene. I would imagine that having Barbra Streisand as a mother-in-law would give an actor a few pent-up rage options to work with. Like I bet if she's making a sandwich and finds that her stepson used up all the mustard THERE IS HELL TO PAY.

What I loved most about American Gangster is that the plot is based on the true story of Frank Lucas's rise and fall as the biggest crime boss in America. I love this kind of true-life drama almost as much as I love imagining what happens at the Streisand/Brolin house if Barbra catches James eating Ritz crackers on her $5,000 sheets...or goes to the bathroom and finds someone used up all the toilet paper and didn't put out a new roll...or if Josh insists on standing on Barbra's right side...or if the gardener makes eye contact with her...

...I could really do this all day.

Week 42: The Wire Season 1, Disc 1

2008-04-14T06:04:00.001-07:00

Confession time. I am addicted to the blog Stuff White People Like. The posts are hilarious and so achingly true that it hurts. Hurts me in particular because it's like they're inside my white mind, right down to my Kitchenaid Mixer, my love of Arrested Development and the fact that I constantly carry a water bottle around with me. I'm Whitey McWhiterson. So imagine my surprise when they added the HBO series, The Wire, to the White People adoration list, and I'd never seen it. Does that make me kind of brown? Hmmm? A little black, perhaps? Maybe a touch Asian?

As you can imagine, I burned up my formerly white fingers adding The Wire to my Netflix queue. We watched all three episdoes on the first disc and loved it, naturally, BECAUSE WE ARE LILY WHITE. The Wire is a cop drama set and filmed in Baltimore. What sets it apart from other similar dramas like The Shield, for me, is how ultra-realistic it feels. The Shield is great drama and fun to watch, but it's way, way over the top. I wouldn't describe The Wire as necessarily edge-of-your-seat drama, but I didn't mind because the meat is so good.

The plot revolves around a detective, Jimmy McNulty, who is determined to take down Baltimore drug lord, Avon Barksdale. The cool thing is, Barksdale is completely under the radar. No record, no photo, no history. No one has ever seen him. The Wire flips between watching McNulty's team begin to assemble their strategy against the mysterious Barksdale and watching Barksdale's crew traffic heroine and evade the police from their side. I would almost describe this as watching the Sopranos in reverse from the police's side.

I feel great for having finally tapped into this great series. My whiteness has been restored. Now I'm off in my Toyota Prius to get an expensive sandwich. Just kidding. Even I'm not that white.

Week 42: Death at a Funeral

2008-04-10T06:13:00.000-07:00

Oh, how I love a good dose of witty British humor. And any movie involving a blackmailing gay midget is right up my alley. My only question is, how wasn't this movie a lot more popular? It's so much fun to watch and is perfect light humor fare, but most of us have never heard of it.

Death at a Funeral is set during the funeral of wealthy British patriarch. His two sons are bumbling around preparing for the funeral while several guests are having problems of their own, including a niece whose nervous boyfriend accidentally ingests a huge hit of LSD that he mistook for Valium.

When a stranger--a midget (why he had to be a midget, I don't know, but it does ramp up the comedy factor)--shows up at the funeral, the sons are confused, until the midget reveals a very shocking relationship to the deceased father, then attempts to blackmail the family for 15,000 pounds.

I won't reveal the surprises that follow next, but they're pretty funny and reminiscent to me of old British slapstick sitcom humor. Not quite Benny Hill here, but a lot of naked/sweating/poop gags are involved. You'll recognize a few of the actors in the film, namely the midget, Peter Dinklage, who was in The Station Agent and Elf. "Call me an elf one more time!" Ah, love that line. I must say it at least once a week to Motley Husband.

Go rent this film.

Week 41: Sarah Silverman - Jesus is Magic

2008-04-07T09:31:00.000-07:00

Every time I watch Sarah Silverman I feel like I've just been caught doing drugs in church. It's like wearing your brand new karma and getting a big fat stain on it that you know won't come out even if you soak it. It's much the same way I used to feel back in the day when I'd listen to Howard Stern (Hey, it happened and I'm not proud of it. No judging.) I didn't want to turn away but part of me was afraid to listen.

Jesus is Magic is a quasi-movie/stand-up routine. It's peppered with loads of musical interludes of Silverman's own writing, which are hilariously offensive. Her style is to go to ANY length for a joke. And while that makes for great entertainment from the safety of my living room, if I ever found myself, say, stuck on an elevator alone with Sarah Silverman, I'd be terrified that she'd try to make me lick her armpit or swing upside down from an elevator cable.

I'd recommend this movie if you're a fan of her standup. But if she generally offends you, steer clear because you'll be horrified. She's not afraid to take swings at anyone, especially Jews and blacks, which is pretty funny given that she's a white Jew. It was my cup of tea but I'm basically a thirteen-year-old boy when it comes to finding things funny. On a related note, if you haven't seen Silverman's song with Matt Damon she made to tease her boyfriend, Jimmy Kimmel, take a look below. I could watch this all day. Enjoy.

Week 41: Black Book

2008-04-02T11:24:00.000-07:00

It’s not easy to willingly rent a movie directed by Paul Verhoeven…the same man who directed Showgirls, which I will admit I’ve watched at least a half-dozen times. Like a stinky cheese, it only gets better and better with age. Seriously, is there a better line in all of film than, I’m not a whore; I’m a DANCER!?

Lucky for Verhoeven, he completely redeemed himself in Black Book. Officially titled Zwartboek, Black Book is an incredible, action-packed Nazi-resistance film that was a sheer delight to watch.

Did I just use Nazi-resistance and sheer delight in the same sentence? Awesome.

Black Book stars a smashing German actress, Carice Van Houten, as Rachel/Ellis, a Jew in hiding who watches her family get mowed down in a botched escape plan from Holland. It spurs Rachel to pass as an Aryan named Ellis and join the Nazi resistance to find out who set the trap that snared her family and a boatload (literally) of other wealthy Jews.

Verhoeven’s cast has chemistry to the hilt, especially between Ellis and the SS Commander she works for/falls in love with, Commander Muntze. And you never really forget that you’re watching a film by the guy who showed us Sharon Stone’s nether regions in Basic Instinct – Black Book drips with steamy eroticism and yes – as part of Ellis’ attempts to blend as an Aryan, she dyes ALL her hair blonde. ALL of it. Thanks, Verhoeven, I was worried for a few minutes that I wouldn’t see a woman’s pubes in this film. Whew. What a load off my mind.

The plot of Black Book is filled with twists, turns, double-crossing spies and a whole lot of action. At some points it plays a little like an old-timey war flick. And it’s hard not to compare Van Houten to film legends like Garbo and Lana Turner. She oozes that magnetic glamour of the old Hollywood vanguard.

Be warned before you watch Black Book…it’s incredibly long, but we didn’t mind the length a bit. In the wasteland of terrible films out there right now, it was refreshing to be excited about a truly engaging film. Paul Verhoeven is redeemed in my book. I for one can’t wait to see whose crotch he's going to show us next.

Week 40: Flight of the Conchords, Season 1

2008-04-01T09:22:00.000-07:00

It seems like everyone I know has been bugging me to watch Flight of the Conchords, a half-hour series on HBO chronicling the lives of the two members of a struggling New Zealand band who relocated to NYC. I've been trying to watch it forever but being "liberated" from HBO (read: can't afford it) means that I have to wait to get it via Netflix. Hence the long delay. Sorry.

We finally watched the first season this weekend and of course, loved it. The two leads, band members Jemaine and Bret, are dead-pan dry and lovably nerdy, clueless and obsessive. Their songs are hysterical, especially in episode 1, "Part-Time Model", which is the funniest thing I've ever heard. You can read the lyrics to it here.

The best gag in the entire show is that Jemaine and Bret have only one fan. Her name is Mel, and she's a complete psychotic. She is terrific in every scene and in my opinion, they should use her a lot more. By the way, the girl who plays Mel, Kristen Schaal, just joined the cast of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. She's a dead-ringer for a deranged Chelsea Clinton, if you're into deranged Chelsea Clinton look-alikes. Which I am.

It was probably a bad idea to watch so many episodes in one stretch together. After a while the shtick started to wear off and we were fast-forwarding here and there to move things along. All of the songs, while hilarious, are basically the same, so it wears thin after five or six episdoes. This is definitely a show that is perfect in a single half-hour dose each week, so lucky you if you get HBO. Me, I'll have to keep waiting for Netflix, but I'll happily do so.

Week 40: The Darjeeling Limited

2008-03-27T11:25:00.000-07:00

I’ve been hanging onto the Darjeeling Limited as a little jewel in my Netflix Queue, saving it for just the right moment. You see, I love me some Wes Anderson. I would watch him direct traffic. But the Darjeeling Limited is…well…it’s a turd, Wes. It’s a turd.

Believe me when I say this makes me very sad. This isn’t like discovering that Mariah Carey’s Glitter was a turd, which is the least surprising discovery of all time. Anyway, Darjeeling had all the elements that make a Wes Anderson film great: quirky characters, whimsical charm, melancholy plot, cool soundtrack, Bill Murray (just barely), a Wilson brother…

But it just didn’t work.

And I think I know why. At no point in the film was I unaware that I was watching Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody and Jason Schwartzman pretending to be brothers. This for me was like watching a stage play – you’re never unaware that you’re watching actors acting. Sure, they had good chemistry, there were sweet, touching and funny moments, but for me the movie was an exercise in self-indulgence on the part of the director and actors. Everything about Darjeeling was just a little too artificial, with the exception of the setting itself, India, which is sort of the star of the film.

Maybe one of the things I love about a great Wes Anderson film is that I usually fall in love with the characters, and I only fell in like with the brothers of Darjeeling.

Another note about the DVD: it contains a short film called Hotel Chevalier, which is billed as “Part 1 of the Darjeeling Limited”. Hotel Chevalier wasn’t played in theaters: this was an extra created for the DVD.

We were confused about whether or not to watch it first – would it ruin the film or give us information that we couldn’t live without? We decided to watch it first and I wish we hadn’t. It would have been much sweeter to see this little slice of backstory after viewing the film.

My disappointments with The Darjeeling Limited continue to mount.

Week 39: Gone Baby Gone

2008-03-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

I have to stop judging movies by their titles. Because all along I believed Gone Baby Gone was Ben Affleck’s cinematic tribute to his hairline. Zing!

Sorry, I don’t know why I love to rip on Ben Affleck, but I just can’t help meself. But even I am gallant enough to admit when my horseheaded foe has pulled off a winner. Kudos to you…Secretariat.

The movie follows a private investigator (Ben Affleck’s little bro, Casey “Ponyhead” Affleck) as he unravels the complicated disappearance of a little girl in a working-class Boston neighborhood. The plot is fairly intricate and the turns and twists really kept us surprised. Just when you thought you know what happened to little Amanda, a new seam opened up and you had to examine a new cast of characters. Grant was correct in identifying that the movie had a resemblance to the same gritty/scary/raw feel of “Se7en”.

The best parts of Gone Baby Gone are handled by the supporting cast, particularly Amy Ryan playing the missing girl’s train wreck of a mother – a hardscrabble drug addict who might be more concerned about getting her next fix than getting her daughter back. Her callous disregard for her only daughter will make any suburban soccer mom absolutely shiver with horror. It was riveting.

My problems with the film? There are a couple:
1. I COULDN’T UNDERSTAND A GODDAMN WORD CASEY AFFLECK SAID. I’m all for using authentic Boston accents, but give me a break. I’ve never had to use my rewind button on the DVD remote so many times. It was nearly impossible to figure out who he was referring to in any given conversation. After more than an hour of “Rhemnybeaschuuond”, we finally figured out he was saying a person’s name: Remy Bressant, and not just describing an itchy rash on his left buttock.

2. Casey Affleck is not a leading man. I’m sorry. He did his best. His acting was just fine, but he simply lacks the presence to carry a film. And, yes, he has unfortunately inherited the Affleck family curse. The one in which your head outgrows the rest of your body at a staggering pace until you resemble one of those cartoon characters skating in the Ice Capades. Let’s all put our hands together, ladies and gentlemen, for the amazing Equine Duo, Ben and Casey Affleck!!!!! Neigh!!!

Week 39: Idiocracy

2008-03-16T13:49:00.000-07:00

Haven't heard of Idiocracy? Oh, there's a reason for that...it sucks. Idiocracy is a mildly (emphasis on mildly) funny comedy about a man (Luke Wilson) who is transported 500 years into the future through a bungled government experiment. What he finds is that in the future, society has been overtaken by redneck idiots who reproduced like crazy while educated yuppies put their careers and lives ahead of having children.

It's a kind-of funny premise and there were a few laughs (like in the future Fuddruckers is just called Butt F#ckers). But perhaps the funniest part of the movie is watching Luke Wilson as he realizes he's made a terrible, terrible mistake in taking this role. It's hilarious to watch him phone this one in. He seems awfully embarrassed to a part of the whole mess. And we were pretty embarrassed to be there with him.

Week 38: Confessions of a Superhero

2008-03-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

Wow, here’s a movie that will make you feel better about your job. And your life. And the fact that you aren’t a Batman impersonator with a three-pack-a-day habit and serious rage issues. Confessions of a Superhero is a terrific documentary about a handful of panhandlers who dress up as superheroes to be photographed by tourists along Hollywood Boulevard. They earn their entire living on the tips they make for each photograph they grant.

When they tell you they can make $150 an hour on a good day, you think to yourself, “hey, that’s not so bad. Pretty good scratch, right?” But as you watch the documentary, you begin to realize that those good days must be few and far between as you see the sad, worn edges of each person’s life.

The star of the documentary is “Superman” Chris Dennis. He does bear a striking resemblance to Christopher Reeves, although the days of standing under the Hollywood sun and smoking cigarettes are taking their early toll on his face.

You think it can’t get any worse than his Superman-inspired apartment (think comic book store vomiting all over your living room) and then you meet Superman’s crazy girlfriend with extra-blinky eyes and Crystal Gale-inspired hair (literally). I wavered between feeling happy that these two found each other and concerned that they are both living outside of an institution. They give new meaning to the term ‘batshit crazy.’ And that’s saying something when you consider that Margot Kidder is also in the film.

And THEN, you watch Batman sitting across from his therapist in full Batman costume, confessing outright on camera to the murders of several people, and continually referring to the “body count” he’s left behind from his days working for “The Italians.” Wink, wink. I swear if you look close enough you can actually see his therapist wetting his pants. It is unsettling. But as the film progresses you begin to get the idea that Batman is a pathological liar. Or at least you hope so.

Go rent this film.

Week 38: Deadwood Season 2, Disc 1

2008-03-06T13:06:00.000-08:00

Oh, it feels good to be back in Deadwood. I missed you cocksuckers. Am I crazy or are the writers actually toning back all the cursing this season? I did not feel overwhelmed by references to c*cks and c*nts this disc. But then again, maybe they’re just building up to it.

I still think this is a great show though the convoluted plot line that involves Deadwood needing to have a mayor, sheriff, etc. in order to remain independent from the United States is so confusing that I’m completely lost. All I know is that Al Swearengen is still bad and Seth Bullock is still hot, er, good.

I must say that if I have to watch Ian McShane (as Al Swearengen) deliver one more lengthy soliloquy in his grimy union suit while he gets a bj from a prostitute, I may give up. I have seen more of that man’s saggy bags than any person should. How would you like to be the costumer on the show who gets to handle his ass-panel? You know, the person who has to make sure it looks appropriately poop-stained?

Honey, how was work today?
Oh, you know. The usual. I had to wash McShane’s filthy ass-panel by hand again.
That hand that you’re using to mix that salad right now?
Uh, yeah, I guess it is.
You’ve got, you know, something crusty on your finger there. Is that a … hair?
It’s probably best if I don’t answer.

Week 37: Juno

2008-03-04T12:41:00.001-08:00

Thank god, I finally get all the pop culture references to Juno now. I know what a homeskillet is. And I now know that her eggo was indeed preggo. Honest to blog.

Okay, I'll stop. I feel like my dad when he talks about using "The Email."

I knew I was going to like Juno. This kind of movie is right up my indie-loving alley. I knew it was going to be funny and sarcastic and shrewd. But I didn't expect it to be so damned sweet too. That took me completely by surprise. I actually cried. Unstoppable happy-sad tears, which are really the best kind. Does that make me a wuss? Ah, what's new.

Are there faults with Juno? Sure. There are plenty (the dialogue, for one, is so unnaturally hip and pretentious at the start that it's actually off-putting). But the perks far outweigh all the hamburger phone jokes. Like Allison Janney. She is a major perk. Huge. She does the best wisecracking housewife routine on the planet. Michael Cera as Juno's boyfriend, Bleeker, is awkward teenage perfection. And while Jennifer Garner's Vanessa was shallowly perfect and a little one-dimensional, you can't help but love her. This is the kind of movie I wish I could watch for the first time a whole bunch of times.

PS: we broke our Netflix promise and saw Juno at the theater this past weekend. We bought a 32 oz. popcorn to share, which, though sounds like a lot, in reality equates to approximately 14 pieces of popcorn. I inhaled the entire thing before we even made it to our seats. Kudos to hubby for making the approximately 4,000-yard trek back to the concession stand for more. He is my Bleeker. He loves me even when I eat all his popcorn.

Week 37: Elizabeth, The Golden Age

2008-03-03T08:20:00.000-08:00

I’m perplexed. Didn’t I already see this movie? Except it was just called Elizabeth? Seriously, this film is a near-identical replica of the first movie, right down to the murderous priest, only this time without as much dark intrigue and drama. But Cate Blanchett is so damned magnetic and luminous, who cares? I would watch her snake a drain.

Elizabeth the Golden Age, which I prefer to think of as “Lizzie 2, Still Angry and Now Possibly a Lesbian,” is basically a wet dream for lovers of beautiful scenery and costuming.

If you loved the first movie, you’ll probably like the second one, but just barely. The ending is fairly cobbled together and the director didn’t seem too interested in actually making us believe the Spaniards were coming for Elizabeth. But still, it was pretty to watch.

The symbolism in Lizzie 2 is way over the top. Like at the end of the movie once Elizabeth has vanquished the Spanish navy, she’s suddenly bathed in golden light in every scene. Get it? The GOLDEN age? I’m pretty sure even Helen Keller would have seen that heavy-handed symbolism.

Now, onto the lesbionics. The first half of the movie was spent with Elizabeth purring and petting her closest court lady, Bess. LITERALLY PETTING HER. It was…uncomfortable. Kind of like discovering that your grandma was a slut back in the day. The second half of the movie, Elizabeth is hot and heavy for Sir Walter Raleigh, played by Clive Owen. Now I understand that Mr. Owen’s masculinity has the power to overcome even the most serious lesbian, but it was a rather abrupt shift in Lizzie’s affections. I am still trying to work it all out. Which one did she love? Was she a swinger? Bicoastal? I can’t tell. Maybe they’ll explain it all to me in the third installment, “Lizzie 3, Very Angry and Awfully Gay.”

The Oscars Recap, A Bit Tardy

2008-02-28T06:50:00.000-08:00

Sorry that this is awfully late (husband out of town, sick baby, yada, yada) but I wanted to share some observations about the Oscars this past Sunday.

If you’re like me, watching the pre-show is way more entertaining than the Oscars themselves. And while my heart belongs to that crackpot Joan Rivers and her marionette daughter, who were unceremoniously fired from the TV Guide Channel this year, THANK GOD they replaced them with two ABSOLUTE TWITS, Joey Fatone and Lisa Rinna.

Did you watch them? If you didn’t, try to find them on YouTube, because it is worth every minute. Joey Fatone clearly had no idea who anyone was, and had to be prompted by some bimbo:

BIMBO: “Joey, that’s Helen Mirren.”
JOEY: [drools and looks stricken by dumbness. Searches pockets for a cheeseburger.]
BIMBO: “You know, she won an Oscar last year for playing the Queen.”
JOEY: [horrible drunken lounge singer impersonation] I’m the queen! Here comes the queen!
BIMBO: [actually looks offended, forgets that she is the bimbo]

And then there’s fish-face Rinna, who botched each interview so badly that I couldn’t turn away. It was hilarious. She couldn’t figure out how to use the microphone. No joke! She would ask a question and keep the mic to her mouth so you couldn’t hear the answer, then she’d hold the mic to the celeb’s mouth when she talked so you couldn’t hear her. Brilliant! It was like watching a dog chase its own ass.

She congratulated Amy Adams at least ten times on being nominated even though Adams kept saying, “I’m not nominated tonight.” When Rinna cut to break, she actually said of herself, “I think I just got myself fired.” Please, please, don’t fire her. I beg of you. She is the best unintentional comedy act of the year.

On to the show. Yawn. No big surprises here, right? I haven’t seen No Country for Old Men yet, but even I knew it was going to sweep the big categories. I am intrigued to see a few new movies, especially some of the animated shorts which looked pretty amazing. And I now have a girl-crush on Marion Cotilliard. La Vie en Rose is moving right up my Netflix Queue.

Jon Stewart (heart) was okay in his opening monologue, but I loved his improve as the show went along. Why on earth don’t they let him just introduce each category rather than force us to sit through those awful canned introductions? I hate how stiff and scripted the Oscars are…even the celebs are so tightly laced and watered down these days. I guess I’m saying I miss seeing Cher’s crotch displaying itself on stage.

Thank god for Tilda Swinton though. She stood out – literally – not just for her kooky outfit but also for being the only celebrity who actually behaved like a real human being. None of this “I’m so surprised and thank you Jesus” nonsense for her. Refreshing, wasn’t it?

PS: Did you hear Regis Philbin during his “I’m going to be a man among the people” shtick just before the show started? He was pointing out celebs seated in the front row and called Javiar Bardem “Xavier Bardem.” I actually felt mortified for him. And then I remembered he’s Regis Philbin and I didn’t care.

Week 37: 3:10 to Yuma

2008-02-25T08:29:00.000-08:00

Well now, I finally know how the Brits feel when Gwyneth Paltrow and Squinty Zellwegger hop across the pond and steal all their plumb roles. Not great. You don’t loathe them for trying to play your countrymen, but there is something that rings false about it. Just like the two very capable leads of 3:10 to Yuma, Christian Bale playing the rancher Dan Evans and Russell Crowe playing the outlaw Ben Wade.

They’re both fine actors but something ruffled me about seeing a Brit and an Aussie playing Wild West gunslingers. I don’t think of myself as terribly patriotic but I guess I hold the western epic a little closer to my heart than I’d believed. This should be American filmmaking at its best. So every time Russell Crowe slipped a little into his Aussie drawl, I cringed. I really loved this movie, but I think I would have loved it a little more if say, the two leads had been played by Chris Cooper and Edward Norton.

To be fair though, I do go into every movie with a predisposition against Russell Crowe and his over-hyped acting abilities. Every time I see him on screen I feel like he just oozes smug self-satisfaction, like I can read his internal monologue:

“I’m acting this so good. I dunno why these other actors bothered to show up because let’s be honest, I’m pretty much the shit. Look at me right now, I’m pensive. Now I’m angry. Here comes sensitive. Bam. I killed that. I am a master of my CRAFT. They should call this Crowing, not Acting.”

Can’t you just picture him thinking that? C’mon. You know he does. My Crowe distaste aside, don’t let me dissuade you from watching this movie. It’s a terrific film. If you love a great Western and have been longing for something to fill the void left by the masterpiece, Unforgiven, 3:10 to Yuma might fit the bill. It's not the most original or unexpected plot you'll ever encounter, but it still makes for great entertainment. The action is tight, the characters are vivid and most importantly to an outlaw epic, the bad guys are oh-so-bad. This was a great edge-of-your-seat gun-slinging pleasure. Giddyup.

Week 36: Bad Education

2008-02-21T06:05:00.000-08:00

What a cool movie. I was very pleasantly surprised after reading the disc jacket, which promised a story about a young man reconnecting with a classmate from their boyhood Catholic school where they had a sexually abusive teacher.

And not that it’s not an interesting story in itself but let’s be honest. It’s not exactly a plot surprise to find that the teacher is fondling all the boys in the chapel, is it? I wasn’t expecting too many surprises, but Bad Education turned out to be a densely complex and intricate story.

At any given time, we’re watching three different versions of the main character, Ignacio/Angel (his name changes a few more times, which should give you an idea of how complex the film is). The trick is trying to figure out which if any of the versions is the real Ignacio. It appears he’s grown up to be a transvestite hustler on one hand – on another; he’s a writer pedaling a script about a transvestite hustler. On yet a third, he’s really his brother pretending to be Ignacio. Whew. It’s a lot to handle.

The movie is written and director by Pedro Almodovar, whom I’ve loved for his other films such as Talk to Her and All About My Mother. He often casts Gael Garcia Bernal, and once again, he plays the lead role in Bad Education.

If I have one big criticism of this film, it’s the ending, in which Almodovar laboriously spells out every detail of the plot, unwinding all the interweaving stories that were so interesting. The result is that the film is stripped of much of its mystery and a fair amount of intelligence. I would have preferred to try to figure out Ignacio’s story on my own.

PS: There is something asunder at the Queue household. Whenever we play a movie with even the hint of a subtitle, Grant becomes distracted and starts busying himself elsewhere. I am slowly becoming convinced that he can’t read. I am going to work on this theory by only communicating to him via post-it notes for the next several days. Wish us luck!

Week 36: Big Love Season 2, Final disc

2008-02-19T09:18:00.000-08:00

Can words express how much I loved this season of Big Love? Can mere letters explain how incredible the last disc was? They can, but only in the form of Haiku, which you know I only reserve for things that I REALLY THINK YOU SHOULD WATCH. Play along:

I love thee, Big Love
You even make Sopranos
Seem like Charles in Charge

Polygamist wives
Three catty, jealous women
You wear much cotton

When dishes stack up
I wish I had sister wives
To help clean my house

Bill Paxton hottie?
Kinda, but his three wives think
He is sex on wheels

Chloe Sevigny
Want to hate you but can't quite
Please ditch the french braid

Week 35: Eastern Promises

2008-02-14T09:49:00.000-08:00

I’ve been complaining for a long time that nobody makes a good thriller anymore. And while I wouldn’t exactly categorize Eastern Promises as a thriller, it’s in the ballpark, and it’s surprisingly good. To be honest, I had NO IDEA what this movie was about. I had some vague idea it was another drab movie about demure Japanese people trapped in emotionless relationships. Was I confusing this with the Painted Veil? Perhaps. The point is that I was completely misinformed.

Turns out that Easter Promises is about a maternity nurse (Naomi Watts) who gets mixed up with the Russian mafia when she begins to investigate the death of a 14-year-old girl who delivered a baby in her hospital ward. Watts is perhaps underutilized but it doesn't really matter because Viggo Mortensen (insert dreamy sigh here) is the real star of the film, playing the driver for the mafia boss who becomes entangled with Watts as she pursues the girl’s rapist. I won’t spoil the twists and turns involving Viggo’s character, but there are a few whoppers and I didn’t see them coming (how I love to be surprised).

David Cronenberg directs (he and Viggo worked together on a History of Violence) and the vibe between the two movies is much the same. There is a lot of gruesome violence, some of which feels unnecessary. And, oh yes, you might have heard that there is a Viggo full-frontal nudity scene as well. It’s uh…interesting. He happens to be naked while he’s getting the shit kicked out of him in a bath house, so it’s not exactly “good naked" (insert disappointed sigh here).

We thought this was a very enjoyable movie. Good intrigue. Great acting. Almost thrilling. I almost love it.

Week 35: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)

2008-02-13T05:49:00.000-08:00

I never planned on watching this new version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory because I AM STILL HAVING FLASHBACKS FROM THAT TRIPPY GENE WILDER VERSION. Are you with me? That was weird, right? The seventies were a strange time, man.

And I only needed to see Johnny Depp’s creepy make-up job in the trailer to the 2005 version to make me want to steer very, very clear of this film. But on the other hand, I adore Tim Burton, so I was torn. Alas, it was playing on TV the other night so we relented, but I’m back to feeling torn again. Let’s review:

Positive: Very limited use of hippie-trippy graphics, although the dragon boat was borderline stupid. And much of the CGI looked incredibly cheap and fake, which is not a positive, but here it is nonetheless.

Negative: Johnny Depp is gray. Why is he gray? We do not know. It is not explained. I did not care for it. Also, Helena Bonham Carter has fake teeth for no apparent reason. Again, I did not care for it.

Positive: Watching the finders discover their Golden Tickets was great fun.

Negative: We all know the story to this film and Burton didn’t press too hard to expand it in new ways or offer many surprises. Nor did he give us much dark humor that I just expect from a Burton film. All in all, I felt like he was just phoning this one in.

Positive: All the scenes with Charlie’s family were completely adorable and filled with the quirky kitsch that I love in a Burton film.

Negative: Most of the movie takes place in the factory and not with Charlie’s family. Also, did I mention that Johnny Depp was gray?

My final tally? I’m pretty disappointed that Tim Burton didn’t give us a Tim Burton film, although the entire fact that we didn’t have to watch any rainbow hippie graphics is nearly enough for me.

My apologies to all of you who love the 1971 version, but I hate it.

Week 35: Broken English

2008-02-11T11:26:00.000-08:00

Here are two phrases on a movie jacket that virtually guarantee I’ll be renting it:

…a charming indie yarn…
…starring Parker Posey…

For the record, here are two phrases that virtually guarantee I’ll NEVER rent a movie:
…starring Vin Diesel…
…from the brilliant mind of Jerry Bruckheimer…

But I digress.

I love you, Parker Posey, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. True, I was on the fence after your wacky appearance on the season finale of Project Runway – the one in which your whole ensemble and coiffure could only be described as ‘batshit crazy.’ But then again, I remind myself, we have all had days where we woke up thinking that it would just be easier to pull on our grandma’s sunglasses and run our hair through the Kitchenaid mixer.

But I digress again.

Broken English is nearly a perfect Parker Posey vehicle. Playing a desperate, single thirty-something, we get to see Posey’s knack at portraying a woman both charming and repulsive, vulnerable and sharp-edged. And if you’re married and sometimes wax longingly at the memory of your fun single days, this movie will painfully remind you how achingly lonely singlehood could be.

Drea de Matteo stars as Posey’s best friend in the film and, well…what the hell happened to her face?! It appears that her three-pack-a-day habit has finally caught up with her…and run over her…and beat her in the face with a stick...then found a newer, sharper stick and beat her harder. Seriously…she is not looking well. In another couple of years she’s going to closely resemble one of those rawhide dog chews. Or George Hamilton, take your pick.

Dreary de Matteo aside, this movie was sweet and sad and exactly as promised: a charming indie yarn starring Parker Posey. Go rent it.

Week 34: Big Love Season 2, Disc 3

2008-02-06T05:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Creators of Big Love,
I am very distressed that you have ignored my previous request to immediately end this series. I have learned through a third party that people STILL continue to be riveted by Big Love and that the series only keeps getting better into the second season.

Again, I very respectfully request that you stop airing this series. If you choose to air it in the future, I might suggest you wait until any time after November 4, which again, is just a meaningless date I picked out of a hat.

Also, please discontinue any discussion of p****amists, who again, cannot be verified to actually exist and are largely considered by many people to be just a fictional rumor.

Sincerely,
M. Romney

PS: John McCain has seven wives, three of whom are members of Al Qaeda.

Week 34: Sicko

2008-02-04T07:07:00.000-08:00

Oh, Michael Moore. Stop bumming me out.

I can’t take it anymore. I really didn’t want to watch this movie. I knew it would make me feel, well --sick-- of our crappy healthcare system and the marionette control of our government by big insurance and big pharmaceuticals.

And no surprise, I was right. Sicko is both infuriating and depressing. The film does a nice job of illuminating how other countries take the stance of preventing illness and improving the health of its citizens while we're focused on denying treatment in lieu of making bigger profits for the healthcare industry. And even though I know Michael Moore painted a very one-sided, utopian view of socialized medicine, I still wish we had it.

So, alas, I am hereby declaring my intention of moving my family to France, where not only do you get excellent healthcare, but you also get a government worker to come watch your baby each week and do your laundry. For anyone with a baby in the house, this is a BIG, BIG deal. Who even cares about getting free medical care when you can get someone to do your laundry?
While I am living out the rest of my days in France, here are the things I will miss most about America:
10. Costco
9. Twizzlers
8. Making fun of SUV drivers
7. Dwight Yoakam
6. Constant updates on Britney Spears’ every move
5. Fad diets
4. Ohio’s immaculate roadside rest stops (if you haven’t peed in one of Ohio’s gloriously clean and plush roadside bathrooms, you haven’t really peed)
3. Fair/carnival food/anything fried, greasy and on a stick
2. Sweat pants
1. Getting to feel justifiably indignant over Michael Moore movies

Week 33: Waitress

2008-01-31T10:40:00.000-08:00

Well here’s a cute little film…
…
…
…
...and that’s about all I can think to say about it. It’s really, really cute. Kind of bordering on cloying. And while it’s not quite an indie film, it’s not exactly mainstream either. I did adore Cheryl Hines as a post-modern Flo from Mel’s diner. Kiss my grits! When she told fellow waitress Dawn that, with make-up, her face looks just like a normal person’s, I cracked up.

On a bitter note, our Netflix disc was scratched within an inch of its life, meaning we had to skip two or three chapters along the way and we never actually got to see the end of the movie. I resorted to looking up the ending online, and it ended exactly how I would have guessed, so no great loss.

Week 33: Big Love Season 2, Disc 2

2008-01-28T09:56:00.000-08:00

Is there anything better than an evil Mormon? If there is, I can’t think of it. At this point in Big Love Season Two, not only do we get some delightfully evil interplay between runaway child-bride, Rhonda, and her would-be husband, the 80-year-old prophet, Roman Grant, but there is also an entirely NEW evil Mormon cult leader! Jesus Christ, pun intended! These two rival polygamy cults are setting up to battle it out Bloods and Crips style. And I can’t wait for the bloodshed. Okay, so maybe there won’t be bloodshed, but we can at least expect a few long French braids to become disheveled.

Did I mention that Rhonda is the very face of evil? She is quickly becoming my favorite character on the series because she’s so sweetly conniving. You just can’t predict who she’s going to turn on next.

It also seems like half the town – including at least one police officer -- is now aware that Bill and his family are Polygamists hiding out in the suburbs. And yet, there is no fallout from this. Does that strike anyone else as strange? It seems like someone, perhaps the officer of the law, would be more inclined to make a bigger deal out of this. But then again, maybe that’s coming on the next disc.

All I know is that if Big Love continues on this brisk pace, it’s quickly going to be my official favorite show on TV right now. Sorry, The Office. I still love you, but the writer’s strike is making it very hard on our relationship. I also love this crappy show on TLC called “Say Yes to the Dress” but that is not exactly love, more like the show I drunk-dial on my DVR. But I digress…