Robocop 2 - Déjà Vu Revue

It's been years since I've seen Robocop 2. The only details I remembered from my childhood is a fight in an arcade, a terrible CG face, and that the main villain is a kid.

So, how did it hold up? Read on!

Battle Los Angeles: The battle within

I liked Battle: Los Angeles. Lots of stuff happened. But that's not what I want to discuss.

Aaron Eckhart plays the lead role. Aaron Eckhart is a handsome man.

Such a magnificent creature. Let's see how he looks in costume.

Pretty good. Now let's see him with his helmet on.

Still pretty good, right? But let's see him under less controlled circumstances.

As I watched that chin, under that chinstrap, I couldn't help but be distracted by what I was reminded of:

It's hard to entirely engross yourself in a film when you're trying not to think of this:

"WE HAVE TO GET THESE CIVILIANS TO THE F.O.B!"

Sully Reviews: The Adjustment Bureau

I don’t do movie reviews on Sully’s Blog. At least I generally don’t, but this past weekend I went to see such a wretched mess of a film that I am honour-bound by the bloggers’ code to spread the word.

The Adjustment Bureau, hailed as “Bourne meets Inception” is one of the worst films I've seen recently. A more apt tagline would be “Like The Matrix, only shit” And if you’ll join me after the break for a spoiler-filled discussion, I’ll spare you the time and money it would take for you to find out for yourself.

I'll fight to change your fate and spare you from this film

Nomination for Blog Entry of the Year 2009

1. Watch this trailer for a horrible, horrible film.



2. See what Fin has to say on the matter.

We Were Warned (about a crap film)

True believers of this Mayan calendar nonsense annoy me a great deal, so it annoys me even more that a film about it is being made, which envisions all the cataclysmic events that the nuts propagating this impending Armageddon get a woody for.

In case you're wondering what set me off - this rigged poll on Facebook was to blame:

Quarter of a million people bothered with this drivel? Criminy. I voted, but only to get the results (not that I reckon too many people take these things seriously):




Over the course of this crummily edited trailer, it manages to tick all the boxes for a genre flick like this - the shots of random foreign cities and their inhabitants looking concerned and feeling tremors to push the 'globalness' of the catastrophe; the use of planes, trains, automobiles and ships to escape the inevitable destruction (represented as a big cloud of debris following them); the struggle of the few good men inside the governmental cover-up fighting to do the right thing, and of course, the demolition-porn of major monuments. This trailer alone shows the Washington Monument breaking apart, Rio de Janeiro's Christ the Redeemer Statue getting a powerful dose of leprosy, (what looks like) the DC Capitol building tumbling to the ground, and even the White House (which still has the lights on) being crushed under a great big freakin' tsunami carrying the USS John F Kennedy.

€5 says that either leading man John Cusack, or director / disaster-flick mogul Roland Emmerich will, in an interview about the film, enthuse about how the heart of the film is the family unit that acts as a 'microcosm' for humanity in the middle of such a global catastrophe.

I know that Roland Emmerich likes using CG to show things crumble, but did he really have to piggyback on the 2012 stupidity? Not only will the film age about as well as anything from the 90s named " 2000", but now we're going to see the same stupidity as when Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out, prompting the enlargement of the stupid fringe of alien abduction claims, leading to more 'open-minded' twats pulling on their goatees and 'discussing the possibilities' of such rubbish.

Gwaaaah.

(On a side note - if there's nothing else out on the weekend this releases, I may well go see it - darn my affinity for John Cusack's everymanness)

Deja Vu (in the most literal sense?)

I've a cinema-date tonight to go see State of Play, a film I've not heard anything about (which is how I generally prefer to watch movies), and while double-checking the time on the Omniplex website, I noticed this advertisement for the lazy-eyed Matthew McConaughey's latest film:

This of course, brings to mind a previous entry from December 07 (One for the Lay-deez), which featured the following image:


That's right, Matthew McConaughey's campaign to lean against every woman in Hollywood is still underway. Brace yourself, ladies.

Blu-Ray, Broadswords and Boobies

In the run up to Christmas, the Euro was worth about USD$1.48 – and after noticing my proclivities to travel Stateside every chance I get, my family members seized upon this opportunity to give me dollars, making a €100 gift worth $148 (which is a much more impressive amount). I was sternly warned to get myself something nice, and not use it to keep myself in Mars bars and crisps for the next calendar year or so, as I am wont to do.

After weighing up my options – I got a PS3, primarily because of the Blu-Ray playback. It spent two months under my TV without encountering a Blu-Ray disc, so last week I decided to justify the purchase and ordered Planet Terror from Amazon.

Amazon, following up on my previous buying history of a PS3 controller, and my viewing history of innumerable PS3 games, jumped to the conclusion that I owned a PS3, and sent me a message letting me know that I should think about buying more stuff from them.



The e-mail contained a table of items that I gave a cursory glance:

	New Releases		New Releases		Hot PlayStation 3 Games
	"Akira" "Futurama: Into the Wild Green Yonder" "Pirates 2: Stagnetti's Revenge"		"Vanishing Point" "Samurai 7: Boxed Set" "Live at the Isle of Wight Festival 1970"		"Killzone 2" "Shellshock 2: Blood Trails" "Tom Clancy's HAWX"

Looks innocuous enough, but the one on the bottom left caught my eye. Pirates 2: Stagnetti's Revenge, eh? It makes sense that Pirates of the Carribbean would court some imitation, but the box art seems a little too derivative.

So I asked Wikipedia:

"Pirates II: Stagnetti's Revenge (2008) is the sequel to the popular 2005 pornographic film Pirates [...] Sexpros.net wrote that Pirates II does not add a lot of new ideas to the franchise, but "...if you are a fan of the first Pirates, you'll surely like Stagnetti's Revenge". The review went on that "if you're looking for the hottest thing in porn right now, this is it""

Yup - Amazon recommended I purchase 138 minutes worth of a swashbuckling, plank-walking, parrot-feeding, high-concept pornographic adventure!

Sadly, I can't very well justify purchasing it now, as I just couldn't keep myself from reading the plot synopsis on Wikipedia. I daresay that my opportunity to invest in these characters and follow their development has been spoiled by the revelation that "Olivia and Jules get off to a rocky start to their friendship, but eventually end up in a steamy lesbian experience."

Guess you've got to find some way to stave off scurvy when at sea, eh?

I like Amazon - whatever algorithms they've got pigeonholing me and my taste in books have so far been eerily accurate (often beating me to the punch with recommendations just as I'm logging on to purchase a book), so this oddity made me sit up and take notice.

My favourite part of all this?

8% of customers bought Madagascar after looking at this item! Makes me wonder - are people mistakenly thinking that this is an ideal gift for their Pirates Of the Carribbean obsessed kids and blindly purchasing, or is it from people shopping for 'mommy and daddy' movies whilst finding some wholesome anthropomorphic-animal-based-entertainment?

How to use your girlfriend

Having a girlfriend is great – it means that there is at least one person in the world contractually obligated to remember your birthday, it keeps your parents’ suspicions based on your childhood high-heel wearing proclivities at bay, and the automatic access to her friends means you don’t have to spend as much time looking at the unattractive mugs of the few acquaintances you managed to herd on your own.

Of course, the problem with having a girlfriend is – what exactly are you supposed to do with her? It seems that couples are expected to spend vast swaths of time together – sometimes entire weekends – but doing what? You can’t possibly expect to hold conversations with a mere woman for these durations – their intellects just aren’t designed for such encounters. Furthermore, whatever intersecting hobbies both parties have are incapable of soaking up such time spans, inevitably meaning that the hobby of one party must be focused on, breeding contempt, and thus ending the relationship.

This is a major concern of mine, as I do enjoy being able to stroll around urban centres with an attractive, pleasant-smelling member of the opposite sex adorning my arm, but it seems evidently clear that the genders seem designed to cross-paths for short bursts of reproduction, then retreat back to their respective non-overlapping circles upon realisation that the notion of a happy couple is an illusory one.

This may seem bleak, but do not fret, dear reader – for I have a not immodest beacon of hope to share with you on this very night. The realisation struck me last Thanksgiving, when it dawned on me that two years had effortlessly passed by, and I still considered my girlfriend to not only be tolerable company, but a person I actively desired to spend time with.

Before you dismiss such an outlandish claim as mere facetiousness on my part, I’d like to assure you that I was quite unnerved by this revelation, and retreated to my private quarters to reflect how such a situation could manifest itself.

The secret, dear reader, is education – but not of a scholarly kind. For the past twenty-four months, the time spent with the object of my affections has not fallen into the common pitfalls of most relationships – we have squandered little time on idle chit-chat, feigned no interest in one another’s hobbies, and not made a habit of attending social functions where dancing (and subsequent embarrassment) are destined to follow.

This ‘education’ I speak of? Cultural references. For two years now, we have striven to fill in the gaps in the other’s grasp of popular culture, making our way through the movies and TV-shows that we regretted passing on in a fashion that doesn’t feel like wasted time. Before this remarkable woman entered my life, I’d never have considered that I’d find time to watch the entire Star Wars saga in a fortnight, or have experienced the Indiana Jones stories before the latest film hit the cinemas and disappointed loyal fans everywhere.

Since embarking on this daunting quest for knowledge, the origins of innumerable catchphrases have revealed themselves, the once seemingly non-sequitur utterances from my friends have taken shape as rather useful cultural shorthand, and the joy that comes with knowing, rather that staring blankly, is attributed to the magnificent woman who gently coaxed me into watching an entire season of Heroes in four days.

The best part about this gruelling endeavour? When done in solitude, it is a sad reflection of a man with too much time on his hands; but when done with another, it’s the quintessence of quality time.

A sceptic's atonement

A label I have no objections to being slapped with is that of 'sceptic'. To be sceptical of outlandish claims is a trait that no person could ever be ashamed of, and more sceptics are needed in society to act as firewalls for bad information. The following story is about my spectacular failure to provide this service.

Last month sometime, after a trip to the cinema, I was in the car with Mega. We were having another one of those incredible exchanges of intellect, speaking on a level few people can manage:

Mega, how come Vin Diesel hasn't been in any films lately?

It's cos he's gay.

Really? I never heard that.

Oh yeah - big scandal. All over the papers.

Wow. I completely missed that. Is it true?

Yup - the newspapers were going to break the story, so he beat them to it and came out of the closet.

Makes sense, I suppose. Amazed I never heard of it.

A few days later, I'm at my father's house. XXX is on the TV, its cacophony of screaming and explosions providing my father with the kind of ambience he needs to enjoy his Sunday paper.

Watching XXX eh?

He doesn't look up from his paper as he mutters his response.

Yup.

To jump-start the conversation I throw out an interesting nugget of information:

Y'know one of the stuntmen died during the making of this film?

The paper drops below his eye line. He peers at his grotesquely over sized TV unblinkingly as the protagonist rides a scrambler around the most explosive compound ever captured on film, performing any number of daring manoeuvres that could conceivably end a man's life.

Of course - they never said which scene it was that killed him.

My words break the spell and he glances at me.

That's amazing all the same. I can see how somebody'd get hurt. Where'd you hear that?

I watched the director's commentary on DVD a few years back.

He nods silently. Then turns back to his paper. The conversation is drying up, so I scan for any more interesting tidbits relating to the film. After mulling it over for a half-second, I decide to proceed:

Here's something else you don't know. Y'know Vin Diesel?

Yer man there with the baldy head, yeah?

Yeah.

What about him?

Y'know how he hasn't been in any films lately?

I hadn't noticed, but why hasn't he been in any films?

Because he's a homosexual.

Silence. My father looks at me in disbelief. It could have something to do with my odd word-choice. I blurt out what little details I have:

He was outed as being gay a few years ago and hasn't been able to get work since - noone takes him seriously anymore.

Vin Diesel drives his bike through a group of AK-47 toting henchmen who fall like a set of skittles, spraying bullets as they do.

Y'mean he's a queer?

A helicopter rolls into the shot. I'm already shaking my head at my father, regretting my decision to set him off.

I can see why nobody would take him seriously, so.

Vin Diesel looks around the compound, looking for an escape route as the helicopter's minigun whirrs up.

The guy who has been driving around breaking necks is actually a hairdresser?

Vin Diesel charges forward on his bike, hitting a conveniently placed ramp that launches him onto a slanted corrugated rooftop that he uses to jump onto the next, the action tracked by chronic-Parkinson's-afflicted cameramen.

My father was beginning to splutter through his self-congratulatory chuckles

You mean to tell me that this super-duper-secret-agent would be an airhostess if he wasn't killing for a living?

A series of great big bassy booms accompany the barn's explosion, as a mess of debris and glowing orange flames thunder towards our hero, eventually engulfing him. A split second later, he triumphantly emerges from the blaze, seemingly unperturbed by the amount of death he had to defy at once. And yet:

I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at him the same again. I wish you hadn't told me that!

I knew that my father's exaggerated display of homophobia was just him joking around, but his closing remarks made me lament the fact that I had passed on information I didn't verify for myself.

The following morning I decided to use the Internet to verify Vin Diesel's sexuality:


'Vin Diesel Slams Gay Rumours'. 19 keystrokes was all it took to rubbish Mega's story of a decloseted action star, yet by the time I looked it up, the damage had been done.

Next time I met with my father, I came clean and admitted that I had passed on bad info. He looked at me funny. Seems he "didn't give a flying fuck anyhow". My sleeping pattern returned to normal.

That's the thing about being a sceptic: there's always a logical explanation - it might just be a bit of research away. The question still stood though. Why hadn't I seen much of Vin Diesel in a whiel? Was his credibility hurt in some way? Didn't take long to figure this one out.

One For the Lay-deez

All Chick-flicks are the same. This is a universal truth embraced by all men. Women aren't quite as willing to attest to this fact. At least not to me.

As a form of personal protest, I will accurately predict my way through any generic chick flick I cross paths with in as obnoxious a manner as possible (the first time I grimaced my way through The Notebook this habit led to my then-girlfriend suggesting we watch something I hadn't already seen).

The worst part about all of this is that the purveyors of this cynical heart-string-tuggery are getting proportionately lazier with each additional million dollars they make off their homogeneous product.

I submit, for your inspection, a picture I took of a DVD-double pack whilst doing some last minute Christmas Shopping.


Just look at that picture for a second. Let it sink in. Now think about the blatant similarities between the pictures. Are they even trying to propagate an illusion of individuality between these films? Would you not think that at some stage, during the shoot for whichever of these was taken last, the unwieldy named Mr. McConaughey would stop as he realised that he had leant against a female co-star before, and say something like

"Um... I think I may have posed like this for another easy paycheck film. What do you guys say we mix it up a little and at least have me stand on the other side or something?"

To which the film's producer would reply:

"Nonsense. Too much effort. In the five minutes it takes to move you over there and re-calibrate the lighting rig, we can churn out another four scripts for films like this. Besides. Women are stupid. They don't deserve any better."

Can we get a new cash-cow? Maybe convince women that they love films about hilarious anthropomorphic animals? I'd happily accompany my girlfriend to something like that...