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Sundance, SAG Awards, Golden Globes, Oscar, who gives a fuck. I mean seriously, who could even notice these minor Hollywood details in the same week that the sequel to Underworld comes out? Hot vampire chicks in poured on leather? Paint my boner and call me a flagpole ‘cause that is the only shit out of Hollywood I could even really care about this week. As much as Damon Lindeloff and JJ Abrams may be the heroes of television writing, I could seriously care less about their Golden Globe acceptance speech for "Lost" unless Evangeline Lilly is standing behind them doing a strip tease. Nope. It’s all about guns, leather and vampires.
And I know the movie is gonna suck. There were almost no advanced screenings for us reviewers and it’s coming out in January, which almost certainly spells A-W-F-U-L, but I’m sold anyway. I’m gonna pay my $11.50 like a good little grunt and enjoy the shit out of a true popcorn suckfest this weekend while the rest of the Hollywood reviewers clamour around four shitty movie theaters tucked away in some third-rate ski town just for a quick glimpse of some shitty half-assed indie crap that won’t put asses in the seats unless it wins one of these stupid awards next year. But God bless them all for pretending that just because a movie got made cheap, it is somehow “art” worthy of attention. Fuck awards, fuck Robert Redford and fuck you dear readers who disagree, I’m gonna let Kate Beckinsale suck the paint off my flagpole at the theater this weekend instead buying into the hype hack filmmakers and unstable Hollywood egos. I like my popcorn flicks, dammit! So on to the reviews of the arty movies that Hollywood screened for us reviewers this week that didn’t require a lift ticket, an academy voting card, or an invite to Bill Weinstein’s lodge.
– Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill! – Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby – Three Ears for well-rounded but average... like a white girl's ass – Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch – One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons. – An added testicle for shit that is in between.
Might be a “new world”, but it’s an old fucking story. You ever watch a Hawker Harrier jet do a vertical take-off? Where you just sit in awe of the sheer power of the heat waves rippling through your site line as a hunk of metal hovers effortlessly in the sky? Well, that shit is beautiful. Ten minutes of tracking shots across a telescope view of what looks like the tourist side of the Atlantic Ocean, however, is just boring. Good news for you regular movie goers is that the version of this film being released now is hella shorter than what I saw. The version I got, when they snuck this big-budget art film out just long enough for award consideration, was like trying to get through the book-on-tape version of "War and Peace" on a trip to the local convenience store. In fact, I think I popped one of my hemorrhoids twitching in the scratchy seat waiting for this flick to get started and subsequently end.
I know you’re thinking I should’ve gone to an AMC theater with the nice soft captain's chairs and stadium seating, but I'm thinking I should’ve just surfed the net for naked cartoon versions of Pocahontas. It’s a sad day when you know there’ a better chance of seeing the cartoon version of a character naked than the real life version. But sadly, the flick is PG-13 and the actress playing her is like fifteen. I’m a perv, but a man-faced pre-teen just doesn’t do it for me. The girl I saw playing the live action musical part out at Disney World however was like hot carmel on a chocolate sundae. And I had such high hopes for Colin Ferrell film conquests after seeing him bang Rosario Dawson sideways in Alexander. I even bought a copy of that shitty DVD for the freeze frame possibilities alone. But this movie is like looking at a painting and waiting for something to change. John Smith, some guys colonizing the Americas, Pokeherhotass, some drama ensues, sailors, Indians, blah, blah, blah…. nothing special.
So what would happen if you crossed the plot of a Jane Austen novel with the concept of "Romeo and Juliet"? I would slit my arm lengthwise and squeeze in hopes that I could make the blood drain out of my lifeless flailing body as fast as humanly possible so that I might have a more fitting end on this mortal coil. Or- you would have this movie. Before I get into any more detail, the reason I severed a whole two bloody ears for a film that stunk worse than the upper decker that I left at the local Shoney’s last week, was the several awesome Anglo-Saxon battle scenes. It’s no Private Ryan, but that pretty kid who hates Spider-Man swinging some classic weapons around with his white European buddies did at least give me fond memories of outflanking Charlie at the Siege of Khe Sahn, which lead to a glorious ancient-style bayonet battle when both sides of our little skirmish had depleted their ammo.
So why did this flick suck? Mythology should be simple like Beowulf, not ridiculous like the plot of "Three’s Company". A comedy of misunderstandings that ends tragically with pretty people saying stupid shit is as pointless as selling a VW to a Hell’s Angel. Guy gets wounded, guy meets girl, girl lies like all women, girl gets betrothed to guy's boss after he did all the work to win her, everyone gets screwed over or dies. Now you can act like you’ve seen it when your annoying co-workers tell you how you’re an idiot for only going to see the stupid vampire movie while they are talking about “real art” around the water cooler. Just tell them, it is the classic Wagnerian tale from whence "Romeo and Juliet" were spawned, throw water in their faces and storm off like you know your shit. Then go back to your desk and get paid to surf porn and this fucking website instead of finishing that first-quarter report that is due on your boss's desk by the end of the day.
Thank the bloody hands of Christ that I got to see one decent movie this week. And thank that fat fuck who ordered one of everything at the snack bar and caused me to miss the opening credits because he insisted that there was no butter taste in the substitute butter flavoring. If I had walked into that movie on time I would have seen that Woody Allen directed it, and I would've proceeded to walk to the ticket counter and impale the cashier on her own patella for selling me a ticket to another movie by some whiny neurotic nebbishy funny man. When I see a Woody Allen movie it normally causes the same reaction in me that I saw on the 12-year old kid who ate a whole bag of peanuts on my plane flight the other day only to find out the hard way that he was allergic to nuts. The kid died, but the good news is that the mother sued the airline and won because there was no ingredient list on a bag marked PEANUTS. Hah, hah, hah, hah. What, was the bag supposed to say “may contain traces of peanuts and other tree nuts” or “processed in a plant that also processes nuts”? I love America.
Anyway, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it yet this year, but I want to ass rape Scarlett “Boing” Johannson with my mouth. This movie seriously makes that desire worse since it is basically the dramatic hitch of the entire premise. She is the girl that the main guy should be with because they are so hot to rub their taints together, but alas she is also the fiancé of his girlfriend's brother. Yeah, sure that may sound like an episode of "One Tree Hill", but in an almost astonishing accomplishment, Woody Allen made a movie that is really about lustful adultery feel like a tension-filled thriller. Every moment feels like it is filled with a rich mysterious subtext that makes the viewers imagination rush with excitement, fear and true anxiety. Omigod, this is starting to sound like a real review. And dammit, it is! Because this is a good fucking movie. Better than killing Communists, better than watching a Jenna Haze movie before she switched to girl-on-girl only, better than white chocolate ice cream with Oreo and Kit Kat mix-ins at Coldstone Creamery. This movie hands down deserves my first full five-ear rating of the year. And not because I love Scarlett, because Woody Allen cancels that shit. But because the realistic greed and lust of the human heart is what real suspense comes from, and this is one of the very few successful exhibitions of the true human heart since Apocalypse Now.
Reason number one is because they already made "Sex and the City". I mean seriously. The chick is a book publisher in the big city (LA this time) running around with her girlfriends and gayfrends trying to figure out her relationships with men while having an inner monologue running constantly. Sadly, I would have cut off my right arm for Heather Graham to have been Carrie Bradshaw instead of Sarah Jessica "Ferris Can Have Her" Parker. I mean, Heather Graham and HBO could have only equaled gratuitous shots of the world's best breasts.
Don’t believe me? Stay up late and catch "Killing Me Softly" on HBO one of these nights. She has the most perfectly shaped, mold breaking baby feeders in the history of filmed mammories. And how is it that Ralph’s talentless brother Joseph Fiennes is on the other end of them? In fact, that motherfucker is on the opposite end of more hot chicks in movies than Eric Stoltz and Mickey Rourke combined. I mean Heather Graham, Gweneth Paltrow, Gretchen Mol and Liv Tyler beat Molly Ringwald, Kim Bassinger and Felicity Hufman any day of the week. Honestly, the only reason I ever watched "Sex In The City" was out of a fondness for the memory of Kim Catrall as the Howler in the first Porky’s. So if "Emily’s Reasons" included her getting naked ever third episode then I would have been sold. But, alas no.
My second reason why not is because TV needs another one of these shows like I need a barium enema. Sure, you can catch lightening in a bottle twice, but it almost electrocuted you the first time so why do that shit again?
My third reason why not is because television networks shouldn’t be trying to fix their schedules in the middle of the season. Just get that shit right the first time. Those dumb fucks have all summer to move these shows around on their stupid boards and test them with audiences, why, then do I have to be subjected to "Four Kings", "Emily’s Reasons", and of all things "Love Monkey" after these people have already ass-fucked me with 12 episodes of "Joey", another season of "Rodney" and the goddamned "Martha Stewart Apprentice". I was just beginning to accept the uncomfortable pleasure of television's throbbing penis placed ever so gently in my sphincter. And now, instead of easing it out and just leaving me to deal with the emotional ramifications, they jam another season of "Jake in Progress", "American Idol" and four straight hours of "24" four right in the bloody sore remains of my poophole. Fuck you, Emily! Strip or get off my televsion!
I’ll keep it simple this week since I’m heading out the door to see Underworld right now. What is the greatest vampire movie of all time? If you say Dracula 2000 I will hunt you down and kill you. Nothing fancy. Just imminent death for you.
is of course Lost Boys. They're maggots Michael, they're maggots.
kayvon
wrong
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:13:09 AM
As tempted as I may be to throw Blade II out there (seriously, top-15 action movies ever, at least), I gotta fall back on Bram Stoker's Dracula. I've never met Gary Oldman in real life, but I simply cannot fathom any possible way he could be anywhere near normal off the set. The man has repeatedly redefined "insane" in his career, and though The Professional spotlighted this the most effectively ("I looooove Mozart!"), out-crazying Tom Waits and Anthony Hopkins by the margin that Oldman did in Dracula deserves some kind of award. Though some sort of childproof award, that he can't seriously hurt himself with. Also - even in a movie with Monica Bellucci - Winona Ryder = banging.
Note: upon referencing Bellucci's name/spelling, came across: "Gary Oldman was quite drunk the night they filmed the scene where he had to lick blood from Keanu Reeve's straight razor. The scene was filmed far beyond midnight, which added to the spirit of the scene and helped put the cast 'in the proper mood.'" Awesome.
Honorable mention: Vampire in Brooklyn.
kj
bloodbrotha
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:20:41 AM
It's gotta be Blackula! That junk is so bad that you have to like it. To bad that Eddie Murphy remake sucked ass.
matt
Dracula 2001
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:20:58 AM
Why someone would say the best vampire of all time I have to go with Vamp here and say Lost Boys but if I can't pick that out of repetition then I am going to go with Fright Night. Hey Napalm, what was the movie where it was basically Teen Woilf but with a vampire angle and the dweebie highschooer embarced his bloodsucking curse and bot bottles of pigsblood and had a vamptastic montauge to that song, "My future so bright gotta wear shades song." I wouldn't pick that just call it my need to know.
lula
George Hamilton
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:28:34 AM
I always loved Love At First Bite when I was a kid. It's cheesy as hell, but I must have seen that movie 70 times.
Napalm Jones
Brattatattatatttatata!
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:52:42 AM
Matt, I believe you are either talking about "I Was A Teenage Vampire" (AKA My Best Friend is a Vampire on DVD) which was a late 80's movie starring Robert Sean Leonard and is very much like Teenwolf or you are talking about the other movie that "Teenage Vampire" totally ripped off which is the classic "Once Bitten" starring Lauren Hutton's cleavage and a very young Jim Carrey in the role that really started his career.
Martin
Props to Vamp
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:53:18 AM
I gotta give you props on the Lost Boys call. I'm not sure that I would go so far as to say it's the greatest vampire flic ever, but it's a grrrrrreat movie. Plus, if I'm not mistaken, it was the first of many timeless collaborations of "the Coreys" (Haim and Feldman), which has historical significance beyond measure (and it also led to their next great movie, "Licence to Drive", which also introduced Heather Graham's great rack and absolutly horrible acting abilities to the world). And even if you throw out the whole vampire thing, it's worth watching for the countless number of wildly "80's cool" moments. What I mean by that is that there were a lot of things that were considered unequivically cool in the 80's, but when viewed today, you realize that they are incredibly gay: the classic 80's lingo ("try the Holy water, death breath!"); the attire (abundance of leather jackets, ripped and knee-less jeans, etc); the hair. However, the defining scene is the beach concert. Aside from the bad dancing and trash-barrel fires, you've got the performer/singer (Tim Cappelo...yes, I actually took the time to research that) who delivers one of the most jaw-droppingly gay "cool" characters I've ever seen on film. Greased-back hair, chain-link necklace, leather pants, no shirt. Shirtless rockers is nothing new, but this guy's not your typical Iggy Pop/herione-addict-looking rock star; he's jacked and covered in baby oil (god, I feel gay even writing this). On top of that, he includes a lot of dancing and hip thrusting, and he also plays the saxaphone (which pushes the whole performance to an 11 on the non-hetero meter). Basically, he's a bow-tie short of being a Chip-and-Dale dancer. (sorry for the huge detour there, and I'm sure I'll get railed on the comment board, but if are a fan of unintentional comedy then you've got to go back and watch that scene, because it's just absurd)
Anyway, back to vampire movies, I'm also a big fan of the first Blade, and Interview with a Vampire is solid as well. But the best ever has to be Blackula...
deuce
once bitten
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:55:14 AM
with jim carrey & lauren hutton.. the memory of jim carrey driving around (and living in) his ice cream truck freezer is way too funny..
good article, and yes, heather's cans are perfection defined.
Christine
I would have to agree
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:55:44 AM
With the Lost Boys as well. Also, Queen of Damned was not so bad at first, but then it got shot to shit in the middle and end.
deuce
dammit
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Posted: 1/20/2006 11:56:45 AM
that was quick.. you're post wasnt there when i wrote my 1st one napalm, i promise.. and yes, seeing an av8b harrier take off is truly badass.
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I’m gonna pay my $11.50 like a good little grunt and enjoy the shit out of a true popcorn suckfest this weekend while the rest of the Hollywood reviewers clamour around four shitty movie theaters tucked away in some third-rate ski town just for a quick glimpse of some shitty half-assed indie crap that won’t put asses in the seats unless it wins one of these stupid awards next year. But God bless them all for pretending that just because a movie got made cheap, it is somehow “art” worthy of attention. Fuck awards, fuck Robert Redford and fuck you dear readers who disagree, I’m gonna let Kate Beckinsale suck the paint off my flagpole at the theater this weekend instead buying into the hype hack filmmakers and unstable Hollywood egos. I like my popcorn flicks, dammit! So on to the reviews of the arty movies that Hollywood screened for us reviewers this week that didn’t require a lift ticket, an academy voting card, or an invite to Bill Weinstein’s lodge.
– Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill! 
– Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby
– Three Ears for well-rounded but average... like a white girl's ass
– Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch
– One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons.
– An added testicle for shit that is in between.
Might be a “new world”, but it’s an old fucking story. You ever watch a Hawker Harrier jet do a vertical take-off? Where you just sit in awe of the sheer power of the heat waves rippling through your site line as a hunk of metal hovers effortlessly in the sky? Well, that shit is beautiful. Ten minutes of tracking shots across a telescope view of what looks like the tourist side of the Atlantic Ocean, however, is just boring. Good news for you regular movie goers is that the version of this film being released now is hella shorter than what I saw. The version I got, when they snuck this big-budget art film out just long enough for award consideration, was like trying to get through the book-on-tape version of "War and Peace" on a trip to the local convenience store. In fact, I think I popped one of my hemorrhoids twitching in the scratchy seat waiting for this flick to get started and subsequently end. 
So what would happen if you crossed the plot of a Jane Austen novel with the concept of "Romeo and Juliet"? I would slit my arm lengthwise and squeeze in hopes that I could make the blood drain out of my lifeless flailing body as fast as humanly possible so that I might have a more fitting end on this mortal coil. Or- you would have this movie. Before I get into any more detail, the reason I severed a whole two bloody ears for a film that stunk worse than the upper decker that I left at the local Shoney’s last week, was the several awesome Anglo-Saxon battle scenes. It’s no Private Ryan, but that pretty kid who hates Spider-Man swinging some classic weapons around with his white European buddies did at least give me fond memories of outflanking Charlie at the Siege of Khe Sahn, which lead to a glorious ancient-style bayonet battle when both sides of our little skirmish had depleted their ammo. 
Thank the bloody hands of Christ that I got to see one decent movie this week. And thank that fat fuck who ordered one of everything at the snack bar and caused me to miss the opening credits because he insisted that there was no butter taste in the substitute butter flavoring. If I had walked into that movie on time I would have seen that Woody Allen directed it, and I would've proceeded to walk to the ticket counter and impale the cashier on her own patella for selling me a ticket to another movie by some whiny neurotic nebbishy funny man. When I see a Woody Allen movie it normally causes the same reaction in me that I saw on the 12-year old kid who ate a whole bag of peanuts on my plane flight the other day only to find out the hard way that he was allergic to nuts. The kid died, but the good news is that the mother sued the airline and won because there was no ingredient list on a bag marked PEANUTS. Hah, hah, hah, hah. What, was the bag supposed to say “may contain traces of peanuts and other tree nuts” or “processed in a plant that also processes nuts”? I love America. 
Reason number one is because they already made "Sex and the City". I mean seriously. The chick is a book publisher in the big city (LA this time) running around with her girlfriends and gayfrends trying to figure out her relationships with men while having an inner monologue running constantly. Sadly, I would have cut off my right arm for Heather Graham to have been Carrie Bradshaw instead of Sarah Jessica "Ferris Can Have Her" Parker. I mean, Heather Graham and HBO could have only equaled gratuitous shots of the world's best breasts. 
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