Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
Guess Who
Bernie. Ashton. The Fox network's creaming itself at the pairing of their sitcom stars in a feature film. This reworking of Guess Who's Coming to Dinner turns the casting tables (white boy, black girl) to reflect the changes in race relations in our society. Reprising his role from just about everything he's ever starred in, Bernie Mac's the grumpy, no-nonsense, overbearing, hard-ass father figure with a sense of humor. Will he and Ashton have the same chemistry as Poitier and Hepburn, or is Bernie getting Punk'd?
Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous
Hooray for sequels! If it weren't for sequels, this portion of my blog might not exist. And wouldn't you, dear reader, feel a great emptiness? A blog is also a place for a writer's (and I use the term loosely) fantasies.
As anyone who's seen Big Momma's House can attest, being an undercover cop is tough work. All the make-up, costumes, deception, hilarity! "Dying is easy, comedy is hard" as Peter O'Toole says in My Favorite Year (referencing the hard-to-pin-down deathbed quote by either Edmund Keane or Edmund King), so Sandra Bullock goes undercover again in an attempt to bust some guts (and maybe some criminals).
MC2 is already a better movie than Speed 2: Cruise Control, so only one question remains: Is Armed and Fabulous a better subtitle than Sister Act 2's "Back in the Habit"?
Friday, March 25, 2005
Sight Unseen: March 25, 2005
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Phillybuster!
The United States Senate has become a threatening place lately. Under the threat of appointment of right-wing judges, the Democrats in the Senate are threatening to filibuster the nominations. In retaliation, the Senate Republicans are threatening to go all “nuclear” on the Democrats’ asses and eliminate the filibuster.
Filibustering gives a voice to the minority party in the Senate (at the moment, the Democrats, but for a long time the Republicans), and makes certain the dissenting opinion is heard (and heard exhaustively). Eliminating the filibuster is short-sighted, because as my high school history teachers taught, political power ebbs and flows. Today the Republicans run the United States, but when the pendulum swings back to the center (please God, let it swing back), they might find themselves back in the minority and in need of the filibuster.
Of course, the filibuster can be used for ill, as in 1962 when Southern conservatives filibustered against civil rights legislation. Give me the patriotic, standing-up-for-the-little-guy Hollywood version of the filibuster in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Where There's Smoke
Philadelphia officials are debating and voting on a city-wide smoking ban in restaurants and bars (a la New York City and California).
As a nonsmoker, who is constantly bothered by smoking, I disapprove of the smoking ban. If a bar wants to outlaw smoking, that’s its choice, but it shouldn't be forced into it. I have nothing but disdain for the cowardly bar owners who advocate a city-wide smoking ban in order to level the playing field because they fear if they go-it-alone with a smoking ban they will lose customers to bars that permit smoking. That’s the risk you take in a free market society.
If you put together quality shows/beer selection/menu/venue, smokers will still frequent a bar even with a smoking ban in place. Smokers will go outside for a few minutes, puff their cigarettes, and come back to their table/bar stool. An official smoking ban is the lazy proprietor’s crutch. It’s almost like communism…forcing smoking equality on all bars instead of championing the individual bar that goes the extra mile to win customers regardless of smoking preference.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Sight Unseen: March 18, 2005
Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
Ice Princess
Another Disney-on-ice production.
In the course of 90-some minutes, Michelle Trachtenberg is transformed from a stumbling gosling (making use of her yip of surprise that served so well on Buffy) into a graceful swan on skates. The title is pure Disney (they love movies about princesses), and not since the 1980 USA Olympic hockey team (and the subsequent Disney movie, Miracle), has there been such a Cinderella story on ice. While there’s bound to be friction between characters that will require more smoothing over than a Zamboni can handle, don’t expect any Tonya Harding-style violence.
One sentence review: This movie stinks on ice.
The Ring Two
What is a blog if not a place to voice one’s inconsequential opinion to the world. I did not care for The Ring. I didn’t mind that it was a remake of a superior Japanese film (Ringu). I minded that the American version included a gratuitous scene of animal abuse that was disturbing and completely ridiculous. The scene in question takes place on a ferry. Naomi Watts sees a horse in a pen being transported aboard the boat, and she decides to harass the horse by sticking her hand in the crate. When the horse gets agitated, Watts continues the blatant mistreatment of the poor creature until it breaks free and jumps overboard—preferring suicide to being subjected to further abuse. I watched the scene in the theater and thought, “Is this character supposed to be mentally retarded or something?” If an animal is becoming distressed by your presence, most people would be smart enough to walk away—unless they enjoy torturing animals as this character obviously did.
What animals will be abused in this blandly-titled sequel?
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Sham Rock
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Today's the day when everyone is Irish, or so they claim.
What the hell is that all about?
Like that shitty pub Fado, the typical St. Patty's Day celebration offends me as a person of Irish descent (and not a slow descent into alcoholism). Is everyone Jewish on Yom Kippur? Is everyone African-American for Kwanzaa? No. But for one day of the year, everyone is Irish. And for many this becomes an excuse to get drunk and act like an asshole. Whether it's riding the (short) bus, a.k.a. the Erin Express, around the city to various drinking establishments, or just puking off the balcony at Fat Tuesday's on South Street, the March 17th Irish are giving the 365-days-a-year Irish a bad name. We have Michael Flatley and the movie Leprechaun* (and its 5! sequels) to do that.
Fuck it. I'm not going to be the party pooper. Enjoy the Irish potatoes (coconuts in Ireland? Did a migrating swallow grip it by its husk, oh forget it), throw on your House of Pain CDs, down your green-tinted Lite, and start a fight. It's St. Patrick's Day.
*Man, I wish I could figure out how to upload pictures to my blog. I have a picture of the Leprechaun that would scare the green piss out of you.
Monopoly Money
The New York Times reports today that three companies are pooling their dough to buy Toys 'R Us for 6 billion dollars.
A few weeks ago, an offer (rejected) was made to buy all 30 NHL teams for 3.5 billion dollars.
I guess some games are more valuable than others, like Risk: The Game of Global Domination. That game is priceless.
This marks the first time I've had two blog entries in one day. Damn.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Sight Unseen: March 11, 2005
Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
The Passion Recut
Greedo shoots first!
Taking a cue from George Lucas, Mel Gibson is toning down Jesus’ bad-ass attitude and rereleasing The Passion of the Christ with less gore (and more Jabba the Hutt?). Mad Mel says, "By softening some of its more wrenching aspects, I hope to make my film and its message of love available to a wider audience." Surprise, surpise. A Jesus movie rises again at Easter time.
Mo' Money! Mo' Money! Mo' Money!
The television networks balked at showing the original cut, but now Gibson's edited ego indulgence can become an Easter television tradition the way Fudgie the Whale makes Father’s Day special. My tradition goes like this: I didn’t see The Passion of the Christ the first time it was in theaters, and I’m not going to see this watered-down version, either.
The Hostage
You would have to take someone hostage to get me to pay upwards of $10 to see this flick in the theaters. Shit goes down, Bruce Willis kicks ass, lots of property damage and some death ensue. Soon to be a TNT Saturday afternoon double feature with Point Break.
Robots
Didn’t filmmakers learn anything from Bicentennial Man? Who the fuck wants an automaton with Robin Williams’s personality? If robots are the wave of the future, I don’t want mine to be some annoying hyperactive jerk who does lousy impersonations. Although, if my robot did act like Robin Williams, I might feel less cyber guilt when I command it to wipe my ass.
For this blog entry, I’m following Rule 1 in Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style for possessives. The new SAT starts Saturday.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Sight Unseen: March 4, 2005
Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
The Pacifier
America loves to laugh at muscular men in domestic roles. Or at least that's the rationale behind such cinematic crapfests as Kindergarten Cop, Mr. Nanny, and now, The Pacifier. How many times will the stereotype that a man can save the world with a gun but can't do housework be played for laughs? Even the high-brow, highly-original concept of Vin Diesel getting hosed by baby piss while changing a diaper is more demeaning than hilarious. Further derailing The Pacifier as a comedy is Vin Diesel's lack of a sense of humor (about himself or anything else). I saw A Man Apart last weekend when it was on Starz. That movie sucked ass, and I'm predicting similar sucking from The Pacifier.*
Be Cool
Is there a better jackass in Hollywood than Vince Vaughn? The man has made a career out of being annoyingly loveable (Swingers, Made, Dodgeball, Starsky and Hutch, Old School). In Be Cool, he's the foil or nemesis of John Travolta's Chili Palmer (or so I gleaned from the trailer). As a fan of Get Shorty, I'm hoping Be Cool as a sequel is more akin to Godfather II than Speed 2 in terms of quality.
The Jacket
Adrien Brody and Keira Knightley get more than they bargain for after shopping at the Burlington Coat Factory.
*Note added 3/7/2005: America likes to suck. The Pacifier was number 1 at the box office. It just goes to prove my theory that kids will watch anything and parents will pay a lot of money to pacify their kids. No doubt The Pacifier's box office muscle was boosted by theater-bound birthday parties, and it was the only PG movie opening this week. Robots will kick its ass next week.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Winter Blunderland
I'll admit that Philadelphia didn't get a significant amount of snow yesterday to warrant a snow day from work, but damn I wanted one.
Burger King at 8th and Market was closed this morning because of the snow. Burger King!!!
My office was open normal business hours.
I miss my school days when snow meant the possibility of a day off. Even if that day had to be made up in June, it was still a thrill not to go to school, and have the day to enjoy the snowy weather. How can I enjoy the snowy weather from my cubicle? Shit.
Enjoy snow days while they last, kids. You won't get one once you're drafted into the work world. You won't even get a 2-hour delay.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Sight Unseen: February 25, 2005
Cursed
Slow week for movies. Slow 2 weeks for this blog. The lack of update can be blamed partially on my illness, which has lasted a personal record 14 days (and counting). In the course of being sick, I also became dehydrated and my lip split. The resulting dried blood and scarring are the stuff of horror flicks.
So, what is this movie? The trailer bills it as another creation from the "Master of Terror" (what University confers that degree?), Wes Craven. I suspect it's a werewolf flick, although the previews (wisely?) don't show any (crappy CGI?) creatures. If I remember that old Fox series Werewolf correctly, the guy with lycanthropy had a pentagram on his palm: much like the one featured in the trailers for Cursed.
Cursed carries a PG-13 rating, which seems tame for a horror flick. What does the benign PG-13 rating mean exactly? No significant cursing? No nudity? No excessive gore? Aren't those the crucial ingredients of a horror film? Maybe the Cravenly one can put together a significantly shocking film under the constraints of a PG-13. Christina Ricci should help; she was in Monster and The Addams Family flicks.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Sight Unseen: February 18, 2005
Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
Because of Winn-Dixie
When did it become fashionable to hyphenate dog names? Check out the names of the dogs at the Westminster Kennel Club. Just try getting "Taliesin's Llenlleawg" out of your mouth when your prize Irish Wolfhound gets loose. By the time you're at the second syllable, the dog is 5 miles away. The trend probably started with Old Yeller, and just got out of control.
Because of Winn-Dixie (a movie about a girl and her dog) has a promotional tie-in with the Winn-Dixie store. Because of Winn-Dixie, we now have a new fruit basket. If they can make successful movies out of video games, why not retail stores? Coming soon to a multiplex near you: For the Love of Piggly Wiggly.
Constantine
Is this the most blasphemous movie ever? Based on the comic Hellblazer, the trailer implies that God and the Devil are at war for the souls of humans, and only Keanu Reeves tip the balance in God's favor. Are they implying that our omnipotent God could lose a war with the Devil? Whoa.
Son of the Mask
Remember 1994? That was when The Mask was in theaters. It's been more than a decade since Jim Carrey found Cameron Diaz to be "Smmmokin'!" This sequel has straight-to-video written all over it, so it probably won't be in theaters long. Is it just me or is Alan Cumming the second coming of Pee Wee Herman (only with his own fragrance)?
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Sick on a Sick Day
Fever, headache, disorientation, an inability to come up with a decent blog entry.
Yep, I'm sick.
Only thing to do is put on Raiders of the Lost Ark, drink tea from my Paul Coffey mug, and feel ambivalent about the loss of the NHL season. Only 14 days until Spring Training.
Ooh. The mail just arrived.
Looking for a blog with some substance and a purpose? Check out the short story project. When trying to think of a theme for this blog, I toyed with the notion of drinking a different beer each day (an easy feat considering my proximity to the Foodery), but, in addition to being a derivative idea, it is also a poor substitute for reading.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Arthur Miller: 1915--2005
Everyone has an Arthur Miller story to tell. With his passing last Thursday, I thought now would be an appropriate time to share mine.
It was the Fall of 1991 (I think), and Millersville University, was hosting that year's International Arthur Miller Conference. I believe the MU fratboys dubbed it "Miller Fest" and made it a drinking occasion (lots of Miller High Life consumed that day). The man, not the myth, Arthur Miller was the guest of honor (a surprise choice for a festival bearing his name, right?), and spoke to an assembled crowd of scholars, English majors, and snot-nosed punks (including yours truly). Sadly, despite paying attention at the time, I retain in my memory next to nothing of the content of his speech. I do recall that, as adolescent males, we were predisposed to joking about Miller and Marilyn Monroe. Thankfully, we showed restraint and didn't actually ask any of our stupid questions (yes, there is such a thing as a stupid question).
So, why was I even there? Coinciding with this venerable collegiate celebration, my high school staged Miller's high-school-theater standard, The Crucible (having exhausted the other staple of scholastic theater, Our Town, the previous fall). Despite the lack of any facial hair, worry lines, or adulthood physique (I was a late bloomer), I landed the role of Giles Corey, the cantankerous old geezer. It was the first (and last) time I had ever auditioned for a show with a particular part in mind, but having read the play I admired the character's unrelenting badass attitude, which was exemplified in his dying words: "more weight".
There was a rumor (who knows who started it) that Miller might attend our performance. I never believed it. Sure it would've been cool, but what playwrite wants to witness his/her work stripped of all relevance and butchered by a bunch of teenagers? Some of my fellow cast members were quite talented (the girl playing Abigail Williams, for one), but I mangled Miller's words with my incomprehensible enunciation. To this day, friends and relatives ruthlessly torment me with imitations of my performance (Rwarawrawraw, Goody Putnam). Think Scooby Doo with marbles in his mouth. Still, this line always rang out loud and clear: "A fart on Thomas Putnam, that is what I say to that!"
ELIZABETH: Aye. It were a fearsome man, Giles Corey.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Sight Unseen: February 11, 2005
Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
Hitch
Why is the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air slumming it with the King of Queens? Big Willie, what are you doing? You ruled the box office for two consecutive 4th of July weekends with Independence Day (1996) and Men in Black (1997; not so much with Wild Wild West, 1999). You successfully jumped from TV to the silver screen; don't let Kevin James pull you back in (or hitch his wagon to your star). Not since Rocky (the fictional boxer) has the fighting city of Philadelphia had a hero of Will Smith's stature, so in these parts he has a get-out-of-Hitch-free card.
Pooh's Heffalump Movie
Fuckin' with the classics. Still, just the word "pooh" will probably garner more laughs than the whole of Hitch. Hopefully, this movie will renew interest in reading A.A. Milne's work.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Extreme Overkill: Pizza Glut
Remember when pizza was a special treat? Pizza isn't special anymore. Kids eat pizza for breakfast ("when pizza's on a bagel, you can eat pizza anytime"; I'd add the offical Bagel Bites link, but their website crashed my internet browser twice, so fuck 'em). Pizza is so not special that pizza chains are forced to come up with crazy new marketing strategies: pizza with flavored dipping sauces, pizza with shit baked inside the crust, extra-layer pizzas, stuffed pizza, square pizza, pizza paired with buffalo wings or breadsticks, pizza with novel toppings, etc."Where'd the cheese go?"* --Ween
Check this out: the term "Meat Lover's" is a registered trademark of Pizza Hut. Likewise "Pepperoni Lover's", "Sausage Lover's", and "Veggie Lover's" pizzas. Lucky for lactose lovers, the term "Cheese Lover's" is still public domain.
Honestly, if the pizza is made right and tastes good, you don't need bells and whistles to sell it.
*This rejected Pizza Hut jingle was on the Ween website, but it appears they've taken it down. It's out there somewhere and well worth the trouble to find it.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Ash Today, Zits Tomorrow
Ash Wednesday.
Until I moved to Philadelphia, I had never seen anyone practicing this show of faith (smearing ash on their foreheads). Hard to believe that there weren't any devout Catholics in my public high school.
Maybe this is blasphemous (it wouldn't be the first time), but it seems like Catholics play a lot of games with their religion. As if entrance to heaven is determined by performing certain symbolic gestures and adhering to a set of rules (fish on Fridays?). Window dressing.
Isn't faith supposed to be more than a game? Perhaps my interpretation is trivializing the sincerity of these rituals, but wearing ash on Ash Wednesday is like wearing a sports uniform and letting people know what team you play for. Why blemish your skin (or is that part of the Lent sacrifice), when an air-brushed t-shirt from the mall that reads, "Kickin' Ash and Takin' Names" would spread the same message:
"Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return."Good works, people. Good works.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Ossie Davis: 1917--2005
Just a month ago as we were watching Do the Right Thing (on MLK Day, as a matter of fact), I remarked to a friend that Ossie Davis is ageless. Sadly, this very talented man passed away last week.
Go rent his work and "always do the right thing".
Recommended viewing:
Do the Right Thing (1989; a masterpiece; buy Da Mayor a Miller High Life)
Baadasssss! (2003; which I learned was originally titled: How to Get the Man's Foot Outta Your Ass)
Bubba Ho-Tep (2002; a brilliant B-movie with heart)
Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970; writer and director)
Monday, February 07, 2005
A Victory for Unoriginality
Super Bowl XXXIX: Patriots 24, Eagles 21 (Final)
Damn.
If football teams could score points for originality, the Eagles would have won this game. The Patriots are unoriginal, and they embrace and relish their blandness like businessmen. With the Patriots victory, creativity was lost.
I can't recall if, in their last 2 Super Bowl victories, the Patriots celebrated touchdowns in a unique fashion, but last night they had nothing but mimicry. Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but on the greatest stage for their sport and profession, the Patriots players couldn't think up a decent endzone dance (or spontaneous emotional response), and resorted to flapping their arms in mockery of the Eagles. Nothing like the Super Bowl shuffle, no "Dirty Bird" (Falcons), no Mile-High Salute, nothing.
And that's Pat-thetic.
After Bowl Notes
With the game over, I can reintroduce red and blue garments back into my wardrobe. Superstition can be a pain in the ass.
8th and Bainbridge: Before the game, revelers on this block were blasting “Eye of the Tiger” on repeat play. It wasn’t surprising to witness brawling after the game at the same location. The fellas were itching for a fight and they found one.
Overheard at the Foodery (10th and Pine): “I hope they’re burning shit somewhere in Philadelphia.” This said by someone who obviously advocates arson, but lacked matches and/or the gumption to personally set a fire.
Gang of six Eagles fans (with murder in their eyes) took off sprinting after a car when the passenger yelled, “Yeah Patriots!” Advertising her allegiance to New England was dumber than the Bainbridge brawling bunch, because I’m sure it was just a matter of time before the car had to stop at a red light and the mob caught up.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Sight Unseen: February 4, 2005
Continuing the Friday series of reviews of movies I haven't seen.
Boogeyman
I wish this was a Prince concert documentary, but it isn't.
The Wedding Date
Weddings scare a lot more people than the Boogeyman. My first impression of this flick's title was: romantic romp about the calendar date of a wedding and the zany events leading up to the big day. Turns out this movie is either Deuce Bigalow 2 with wedding bells or a reverse Pretty Woman. Dermot Mulroney takes over the Rob Schneider/Julia Roberts role as Debra Messing's "escort". I picture Debra guzzling champagne at the reception and thinking, "Did I pay too much for this gigolo" alternating with "I wonder what stuffing an extra 20 quid in his cummerbund will get me." A word of advice Debra, he may be Dermot Mulroney, but he's still a male escort. So "put a sock on the pickle" or "3 days later, go see the doctor".
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Money Doesn't Grow on Bushes
Excerpt from Bush's State of the Union address on 2/2/2005
"Here is why personal accounts are a better deal. Your money will grow, over time, at a greater rate than anything in the current system can deliver, and your account will provide money for retirement over and above the check you will receive from Social Security."
That sounds like a guarantee. Is Bush guaranteeing that money invested in the stock market will always earn a positive return? I may be an M.B.A. drop-out, but I know the stock market fluctuates (that means it goes up and down). Funny, Bush didn't mention that in his speech. Maybe he forgot about the recent recession. Forgive me if I don't forget that I was downsized three times in four years, Mr. President. Bush 43's guarantee that the stock market will always pay off for retirees sounds like a lie on par with Bush 41's "read my lips: no new taxes". I don't know if Bush's plan for Social Security is good or bad, but I know the money invested in private accounts is not guaranteed to produce a return.
One thing is guaranteed: investment firms can't wait to line their pockets with the broker fees.I learned that in Business Ethics 101.
*underlining mine for emphasis.