A Very Different Kind of Alien Abduction

This blog must begin with a huge warning that the following will contain so many spoilers for the movie Under The Skin (directed by Jonathan Glazer) that absolutely nothing will take you by surprise should you decide to see it; in fact, you may be struck by boredom and find yourself yawning uncontrollably. I have to warn you of this, as literally ANY information I give about the plot is a spoiler, considering the grandiose lack whatsoever provided by the trailer. Seriously, watch the clip below before proceeding.

Okay, now you know a grand total of absolutely nothing about the film except it looks confusing, creepy, artsy, and implies that Scarlet Johansson gets naked. After my first viewing of the trailer I was far from intrigued. My mind folded its metaphorical arms and shook its head like a stubborn child informing me that no way in hell were we going to see that movie. However, something in me kept wanting to watch the trailer over and over and I ended up watching it at least six times and greatly contributing to its number of views on YouTube. I felt like, although I expected a few sleepless nights to follow its screening, I would almost be more bothered if I didn't see it. I decided just to do it; how bad could it be (of course, this is exactly how I felt before seeing The Exorcist which made me unable to sleep or even enter a dark room unaccompanied for a good month)?

I am one of those "crazy" people who actually enjoys spoilers. I like being properly prepared for movies such as this so I know just what to expect. Is there going to be graphic, sick and twisted violence completely downplaying that in Game of Thrones? Will it raise so many psychologically disturbing questions that my mind teeters on the brink of explosion? Do I have to watch someone get castrated or skinned? Okay sorry, even typing that last bit was a bit disturbing. You get the point. But honestly, DO NOT READ BEYOND THIS POINT if you want the movie to remain a complete mystery and plan on seeing it. You have been warned. Twice, I might mention.

So first I went to Wikipedia which provided a brief paragraph explaining the plot, and the introductory sentence itself ruined the complete mystery in the movie. All it said was:

"In Scotland, an alien takes the body of an attractive young woman and travels the country in a van picking up men. As she lures her victims into a trap with the promise of sex, the men are immersed in a kind of preserving liquid and their flesh is harvested. She is monitored by another alien, who has the body of a male motorcyclist."

Reading this terrified me beyond belief. Harvested skin? Seriously? That seemed a bit beyond my ability to behold on the big screen. After this tidbit, I wanted to know more of what I was getting into, so I listened to some SoundCloud clip of two critics reviewing it and basically giving away every single plot point. They talked about how the alien played by Johansson leaves an abandoned baby on the beach, kidnaps a man with a horribly disfigured face but takes pity and releases him, eventually develops a curiosity about what it means to be human and tries unsuccessfully to have sex and at the end gets gasoline poured on her by a rapist-firefighter guy/park ranger after she peels off her face and skin revealing the alien underneath and burns to ashes. The end, now you know the entire film.

The floating bags of skin to be harvested were not nearly as nasty as I imagined they would be- they just resemble little scarves suspended in the "preserving liquid." I have to admit that I was far less creeped out than I thought I would be. In fact, I was a bit bored by the second half of the film but I attribute that to not being that invested or interested in artsy films. If you want to see Scarlet Johansson stark naked and that is enough motivation in itself, go see it. There is a lot of full-frontal male nudity as well though, so consider yourself warned. See it, don't see it, do what you want. If you like conventional Hollywood, skip it for sure. 

Not Blown Away by "Stars"

After closing the back cover of The Fault in Our Stars, the newly released paperback edition advertising that it was now a MAJOR motion picture and therefore plastered with photos from the soon-to-be-released film, I entered into a serious ponder session. For so many months, I passed bookshelves featuring The Fault in Our Stars by John Green where it was labeled a "staff favorite" or somewhere among the top ten best selling works of literature at the moment. I also noticed it in the rooms of friends and homes of acquaintances, peeking out from underneath a pile of other half-read or untouched novels or shoved onto a bulging bookshelf. Yet none of this constant contact with its lovely blue cover filled with seemingly endless quotes of praise intrigued me enough to buy, borrow, or download it.

Things changed when I arrived at the airport in Denver, void of any literature to entertain me for the plane ride, weekend, and return trip. I feel such a wave of desperation wash over me when I am book-less. Such a strong tidal wave that I would likely drop twice what any book is worth just to fill the void. Of course, airport bookstores thrive and prey on individuals just like me. I realize that the cost to download The Fault in Our Stars would be a mere fraction of that which I paid at the bookstore. However, I am an old soul. I like Frank Sinatra, and not only at Christmas. I like gin and tonics. I love the gritty feel of a real newspaper with ink that rubs off between my fingers. I love, and will always love, the feel of a physical book, the bookmark clearly displaying my progress, the bulkiness of the bound pages in my bag, and the ability to leave it behind at bookshops and coffee shops for others to read.

Now, the problem with praising a book so vastly is that the bar of expectation is automatically raised impossibly high for the next reader. Such was the case when I began to absorb word after word in the start of the novel. I expected a game changer. While, in my humble opinion, it could not be labeled as such, it was a pleasant enough read. To me, it seemed strikingly similar in tone to The Perks of Being a Wallflower (which they also made into a movie, I might add). The Fault in Our Stars follows the fleeting romance between terminal cancer patient Hazel and a boy she meets in support group, Augustus. We know from the get-go that this story will not end well. Perhaps it was this premonition that made not a single tear trickle down my cheek once I finished it. The fact that I didn't blubber like a teenage girl watching The Notebook for the first time actually disappointed me. It is a book about kids with cancer going through pains and tribulations that no one should ever face, and yet despite feeling sad, the words never quite moved me to tears. Perhaps it is because it took me awhile to come around to liking the characters. Initially, I felt they were pretentious and difficult to sympathize with, but around halfway through they completely converted me. Maybe Hazel's strength is what made crying feel like a useless act. She has to carry around a portable oxygen tank so her lungs can "suck less at being lungs" (as she puts it). She has to face her loving parents every day knowing that soon she will have a devastating impact on their lives by disappearing from them. Her list of acquaintances is full of individuals that will not last through the week. Yes, she is a strong character.

You know I actually hate when books put photos from the movie on the cover or, in the case, filling a few pages in the middle. It made it impossible for my own imagination to create characters based on their literary descriptions. At the mention of Hazel's mom, my mind's eye saw Laura Dern (regardless of my disappointment of having my mental character concoction ability stripped from me, I do concede that she is perfect for the role). At the mention of Hazel, I can only visualize Shailene Woodley (the chick from The Descendants). I won't post their pictures here in case you have never seen them before and don't want to tarnish your mind's ability to form its own images of Hazel and her mother.

I did enjoy The Fault in Our Stars. It would be a lie to say otherwise seeing as how I finished it in two days. However, I just don't think it's QUITE worth all of the hype it is receiving. It definitely has a plot scattered with memorable characters and quotes, like that time is "a slut that screws us all" and some listed below in the image. Just read it but don't expect your mind to be blown, opinions changed forever, and horizons broadened beyond comprehension.

Jared Leto is a Handsome, Pretty Man

How is it fair that Jared Leto has the ability to be both a really hot guy and a gorgeous woman? It's not fair, that's what I say. For me, one of the most striking aspects about his role in Dallas Buyer's Club that earned him the coveted Oscar for best supporting actor was how pretty he was. Perhaps the reason I find him so attractive is because he looks like he could be the brother of my female celeb crush, Zooey Deschanel (maybe it is the blue eyes?).

Sexy man

Pretty convincing lady...

Jared Leto could be her brother

So, Dallas Buyer's Club was a good movie. Wow, nice generic statement there, Marisa. Was I blown away by this movie? No. Would I watch it over and over again like I would Lost In Translation? No again. But would I recommend it? Absolutely, one thousand times over. Right from the start, the film sucked me in and held my attention hostage with a vice grip the entire running time. The plot chronicles the true story about Ron Woodruff, a Texas bull rider and electrician during his life after he is diagnosed with HIV and refuses to give up despite the doctor giving him 30 days to live. In Mexico, he obtains substances that seem to alleviate his symptoms and decides to help others with HIV and AIDS by selling them in Dallas. While in the hospital in Dallas, he meets a transvestite, Rayon (actually, he is pro-op- does that just make him a cross-dresser? I'm not an expert on the terminology) who helps him in his distribution.This angers the FDA and healthcare officials who believe he is interfering with their trial of the drug AZT by drawing away its participants.

I can't imagine how starving Matthew McConaughey must have been the whole time he sacrificed his sexy toned body to waste away to an emaciated state in preparation to play Rob Woodruff. His physical transformation along with his passionate acting earned him that Oscar for best actor, although I heard Chiwetel Ejiofor from 12 Years a Slave was equally impressive, if not more so. I can't say yet because I have not seen it. One thing I noticed is I don't think I have ever seen McConaughey play a role in which he did not use his natural Southern accent. That is what I want to see. Jared Leto was fantastic and passionate and had to starve himself so he deserved his Oscar as well.

Dallas Buyer's Club was a lot more graphic and intense than I assumed it would be. I did not even know it was rated R until the theater employee asked to check my ID to ensure that I was at least 17. I was THIS close (holds thumb and pointer fingers really close together) to mentally giving him kudos for making me feel young again but then I instantly retracted these thoughts when he saw my birth date and said, wide-eyed, "wow, you're a LOT older than me!". I guess no wise sage has taught him how to talk to women yet. Basically, if you are very sensitive to pervasive language and somewhat graphic sex scenes (although after The Wolf of Wall Street I am numbed to that and offer an altered perspective) and if you work for the FDA (this movie makes them look moronic) you may want to skip it. 

Oscar Predictions

I could not care one iota less when it comes to the majority of televised sporting events, but when it comes to the Academy Awards, I quickly morph into the equivalent of the face and body-painted over-the-top fan waving a flag in one hand saying "(insert sexy athlete here) HAVE MY BABY" and pointing a foam finger obnoxiously in my neighbor's face.

Best  Picture:
Should Win: Although I felt that Nebraska was charming and artsy (it was entirely in black and white) and funny, it did not "wow" me enough to be a best picture winner. The Wolf of Wall Street, though crude and extremely long, embodied great film making from every perspective, in my oh-so-humble opinion.

Will Probably Win: 12 Years A Slave will win as another attempt to "make up for the past."

Best Actor:
Should Win: Leonardo DiCaprio all the way. His portrayal of Jordan Belfort bolstered his already impressive acting ability even further. He made me want to reach right through the silver screen and strangle him myself while simultaneously evoking pity. How does one even do that? Plus, we got to see his butt, so that's a plus (for us heterosexual ladies, anyhow).

Will Probably Win: This is between Christian Bale for American Hustle and Matthew McConaughey in Dallas Buyer's Club because they both underwent dramatic changes in their appearances for their respective roles. If I had to predict one winner, however, as only one can win, it would be McConaughey because he lost weight for his role where he appears rather emaciated and Bale simply had to pack on the pounds. As we all know, losing weight is far harder than gaining weight as I'm sure that while Bale was shoveling down a dozen Krispy Kremes washed down with Oreo milkshakes, McConaughey was drinking 8 ounces of raw, organic kale juice every day for a month. Then again, Chiwetel Ejiofor has a good chance to win too for his role in 12 Years a Slave because the Academy is likely guilt-ridden for the slavery/segregation. So, basically we will find out what trumps what: wright loss/gain for a role, or white people feeling guilty for the past.

I'm not sure which of the following images is freakier:

Best Actress: 
Should Win: Cate Blanchett. No contest. Although, "contest" essentially defines the Academy Awards but whatever. In Woody Allen's latest, Blue Jasmine, she played a neurotic character and redefined what it means to be on the verge of a mental breakdown (eventually being dead center of said breakdown). I pitied her, I laughed in her face when her "Xanax wasn't working" and I marveled at her stellar acting that she didn't have to gain or lose weight to accomplish.

Will Probably Win: Well, Meryl Streep has taken home the little golden statue enough times but they'll probably give it to her again anyway. Her or Amy Adams, just because it is a feat to marvel at that she has been in such a massive amount of movies in such a short period of time. I swear she has a Hermione-style time turner. Plus, she showed a lot of side-boob in American Hustle and spoke with a convincing British accent so I'm sure those could earn her an Oscar.

Best Supporting Actor:
Should Win: As much as I loved Jonah Hill as a weirdo quaalude addict with very obvious veneers married to his cousin in The Wolf of Wall Street, I want Michael Fassbender to win. His preformances have been overlooked far too many times and even though I did not actually see 12 Years a Slave, I assume it was the same caliber acting job as the rest.

Will Probably Win: Barkhad Abdi from Captain Phillips because he is the underdog contender from Somalia and it would make one of those feel good, rags to riches tales that we all love if he were to win. Or Jared Leto because he dressed up as a woman and lost a ton of weight for his role in Dallas Buyer's Club.

Best Supporting Actress:
Should Win: Ok, I know she JUST won last year, but Jennifer Lawrence blew me away in American Hustle. She was funny and evil and just perfect. I also adored June Squibb from Nebraska as the crude little old lady. Somehow, I found it gut-wrenchingly hilarious to hear the C word and other expletives emanating out of the mouth of such an adorable little grandma-looking lady.

Can you imagine this adorable lady swearing??

Probably Will Win: Lupita Nyong'o from 12 Years a Slave. See my reasoning for best supporting actor (except she is Kenyan, not Somalian).

Best Animated Feature:
Should Win: The Wind Rises. Not only am I madly, and I mean MADLY in love with Hayao Miyazaki (seriously, I would pull an Anna Nicole Smith and marry the guy but it wouldn't even be for the money- strictly for love), but this is his last film, so he won't even have another opportunity. The Wind Rises, about a young aeronautical engineer, is touching, charming, and visually invigorating.

So deserving I can't stand it

Probably Will Win: Frozen. It is a Disney movie that got a lot of hype. Enough said. Or, it could go the opposite direction and be Ernest & Celestine because it is foreign and the Academy likes those.

Okay, this blog is getting long and there are still far too many categories to predict. My cinematic tea leaves/crystal ball are getting tired. So, anything that is about cinematography or special effects should go to Gravity or The Hobbit. The rest, we will just have to see. And full disclosure: I did not see any of the documentaries or foreign films. I'm most excited to see Ellen host!

Hustle Me, Batman

I like being hustled as long as it is by an overweight Christian Bale (a.k.a Batman, if you didn't get the title reference) with an atrocious combover and a particularly foxy-looking Amy Adams. American Hustle's nomination for best picture was a head-scratcher for me, but if Jennifer Lawrence hadn't been nominated for best supporting actress I would have sat there ripping my hair out and stomping around like a four-year-old throwing a massive tantrum. Though she appeared a bit too youthful to play the part of the disgruntled and manipulative housewife and mother, she pulled it off perfectly, making audiences (or at least me) want rip my way though the silver screen and slug her in the face to prevent any future misery caused by her selfishness and ignorance.

The acting was more stellar than the Big Dipper and the little one combined. Amy Adams, who I truly don't understand how she has to much time to dedicate to such a wide variety of films, did a great job and, male viewers will be pleased to know, didn't wear much the entire running time. Bradley Cooper has come a long way since his days in The Hangover (actually, he just recently participated in a horrendous third installment in the series, but at least the quality films in which he is acting simultaneously partially make up for that atrocity). If he hadn't already proven his on-screen skills in Silver Lining's Playbook, his appearance in American Hustle would have.

Ick- she just look likes a catty b****

Quick plot summary: Irving Rosenfeld (Bale) and his main squeeze Sydney Prosser (Adams) spend their time conning the desperate with various schemes until FBI agent Richie DiMaso catches them and forces them to help him catch a corrupt politician in exchange for DiMasso not to press charges. Their highly sensitive operation is going swimmingly until Rosenfeld's nosy and obnoxious wife (Lawrence) threatens to expose the whole thing with her unintentional involvement. As previously mentioned, the wife is just awful in every way. She accidentally sets the house on fire multiple times, is a negligent mother, and threatens Rosenfeld whenever he mentions the divorce he and Prosser desperately want. Thus, she is the most entertaining character by a long shot.

Wow, Christian- you really let yourself go...

For me, the take away of this movie is that the acting is beyond superb (super superb?), it makes you wish you lived in New York in the 60s, and the plot keeps you entertained as long as you can actually follow it. The complexities in the plot in which important twists and turns happen at break neck speeds reminded me of Tinker, Tailer, Soldier, Spy. That movie just flew right over my head, despite my desperate attempts to understand the details. Yes, the actors nominated for their roles in American Hustle deserved their nominations. Especially Christian Bale just for sporting that horrific comb-over and gaining so much weight (the weight gain seemed to work for Charleze Theron in Monster). I do hope, however, that it does not take home the Best Picture prize. I have yet to be impressed by a nominated film to feel it is deserving.

Watch Out for This Wolf, Little Red Riding Hood

If his previous films weren't proof enough, The Wolf of Wall Street provides sufficient evidence of Martin Scorsese's cinematic prowess. It is shocking that he made three hours in a theater seat literally "fly by", and even more shocking the things this film manipulated my mind to feel.

The Wolf of Wall Street chronicles the life of Jordan Belfort, albeit to an exaggerated degree (I hope to God, anyhow), the real-life New York swindling stock broker millionaire. He earned those millions by taking advantage of unsuspecting players in the stock market game and swindled the bills on countless hookers, enough drugs to tranquilize a pack of overweight elephants, multiple houses, a yacht... you get the picture. Some critics feel that this film glorifies such a lifestyle but I think they are missing the subtleties that make up the point- it is simply, in my opinion, a portrayal of a macho, testosterone-driven, shallow lifestyle somehow made acceptable by our society.

By some miraculous film miracle, I actually found myself empathizing with Belfort despite his uncountable list of heinous deeds. His partner, played by Jonah Hill, was only slightly less monstrous, yet I found myself "touched" by their strangely deep friendship. As Belfort would say, it's some "f***ed up s***" (actually, he would have sprinkled the phrase with a "c word" or two) to feel that way. That's the magic of good screenwriting coupled with convincing acting.

The cast of this film was bizarre. Random actors and actresses from movies dominating my childhood (Uncle Vernon from Harry Potter, one of the weird aunts from James and the Giant Peach, the main guy from that show where he got the newspaper one day early and saved people who died in the articles, etc.) kept popping up in the film. Everyone played their part perfectly, most notably our dear Mr. DiCaprio. What a loathsome embodiment of testosterone not even attempting to hide his filthy core... I can't stand that Belfort is not a concoction of the imagination.

A sign on the ticket counter warned me that The Wolf of Wall Street well-earned its R rating what with the pervasive language, frequent full-frontal nudity, sex, drug-use, blah-dee-blah. Yes. True. This film is not for the faint of heart. If you don't want to watch Leonardo DiCaprio throw little people at a dart board, beat up his wife, and snort line after line of cocaine through 100 dollar bills (often off the body parts of naked prostitutes) sometimes will already under the influence of quaaludes all while screaming every profanity you can imagine, skip this movie. But if you think there is even the slightest chance you can handle it, it is WELL worthwhile. It gets off to a running start and never really pauses until it beautifully wraps up after, as I said, three full hours, and it never skips a beat. Plus, they teach you all about quaaludes- I can't imagine all the useful things I can do with that newfound knowledge.

See- he really throws a little person at a dartboard... 

Inside Llewyn Davis (Creative Blog Title, I Know)

I arrived in the movie theater to see the Cohen brother's most recent film, Inside Llewyn Davis, as would an over-the-top, obnoxious sports fan stepping into the stadium to watch their favorite team play. I donned my imaginary foam finger and a flyer saying "go, Joel and Ethan!" I wanted to like the film so  badly that I broke my one moviegoing rule- have bare minimum expectations.

I blame the overly-affective marketing. The trailers showcased the best elements of the movie, including the most gorgeous song on the soundtrack (a beautiful version of "Fare Thee Well" written by Bob Dylan and preformed by Oscar Isaac and Marcus Mumford). I hold this song in a special place in my heart, as it helped me greatly in the coping of the recent loss of my grandfather. That being said, the rest of the songs fell far short of the quality of the previously mentioned tune (in my oh-so-humble opinion, anyways).

Brief plot summary: (trust me, it will be as there's not much to tell) Llewyn Davis lives in New York, bouncing from couch to couch as he doesn't have a place of his own as a struggling folk musician. He is attempting to break out as a solo artist but with no success. Eventually he toys with the idea of returning to work as a fisherman and give up his musical aspirations. He also finds out some surprising news from a special lady in his life and tries to deal with that as well. That's the basic recap.

I love the Cohen Brothers almost as much as I love Wes Anderson, and that's a lot of love. But I don't think they filled their own legendary shoes this time around. Generally, the public go to see films to escape and live vicariously through the adventures of others. This filmgoing experience simply made me never want to live the life of a struggling folk musician. Though many of the Cohen brother's films tag along at a slow pace (especially in comparison to the GO, GO, GO high speed stockpile of Hollywood movies today) this one was almost unbearably slow- we're talking snail gliding at its most leisurely pace through molasses. I seldom do this, but during Llewyn Davis I kept trying to catch the light at just the right angle on my watch to see how much time had passed and about how much was left to go. Not exactly what I look for as a filmgoer.

The plot had more loose ends than an unraveling sweater, and consisted of a whole lot of, well, absolutely nothing happening. I kept waiting for the slightest conflict or even plot twist, to no avail. I take that back- there were some rifts in the plot- maybe the issue was too many unresolved conflicts. Will Llewyn succeed in the music world? Will his one night stand have his child? Will he ever decide to get his own feline companion? Who knows.

My favorite cast member

Yet comedic moments and other saving graces made cameos throughout the story- I laughed out loud several times (except at the jokes from the trailer I had seen dozens of times) and fell quickly in love with the feline star of the film. Yet even in other Cohen brothers films that on the surface appear to be about "nothing" I always feel I get something out of them. I'm still not sure that Inside Llewelyn Davis provided this for me. It is a melancholy, slow-paced film, so if that's what you're in the mood for, I say go see it!

Hugo, You're Going to Need a Bigger Can of Bug Spray

If I had read the book prior to seeing Ender's Game, I think I would have been extremely disappointed. A few days after, I came across a copy and decided to peruse the first chapter only to discover inaccuracy after inaccuracy of the film version in comparison to its literary counterpart. The first, and perhaps most noticeable flaw, is that Ender at the commencement of the book is six years old. The only way the actor portraying Ender, Asa Butterfield (I laughed out loud for a significant amount of time when I found out that was his name), who played Hugo in last year's blockbuster, could be accepted as a six-year-old would be if he were one with a serious hormonal imbalance. Otherwise I'd put him at nine- eight at the absolute youngest- or 12 at the oldest. This inaccuracy seems perfectly reasonable to me, however; it is bizarre enough in text to have a six-year-old doing the mature things that Ender does. The director explains his casting choice than I ever could in this interview from the LA Times: 

"We tried actors from age 7 all the way to age 14, and the younger actors, even though there were some really good ones, it was very hard to find an actor that could be both awkward and shy and withdrawn at the beginning the way Ender is, a bit of an outsider, and yet by the end come through with this moment where he says, “You lied!” And this roar comes from this boy who’s now a man and literally stops someone like Harrison Ford in his tracks. Some of the younger kids would go, “You lied!” [in a high-pitched baby voice], and it just didn’t work. And I was sweating. Fortunately when Asa came in, I think we caught him just at the moment when he was on the cusp of becoming a young man, but he’s still a boy, and we shot in sequence, to help him and frankly to help us, because he grew 2 inches even while shooting. The challenges were all a bit more daunting than we probably realized when we started…. We needed a highly intelligent actor who’s also intrinsically compassionate and empathetic, because you can’t really fake that, and is slightly geeky because he’s not a jock, and yet is believable as someone who can throw a punch when he has to. I think we were just very lucky to find Asa, who is highly intelligent, genuinely humble and could do the physical work in the wires, because we also had to do put these kids into wires, and they had to do gymnastics to achieve the stuff we needed for zero gravity — a lot of demands for a young actor."

The smallest details irk me in films these days. One detail that I'm sure hardly anyone else notices is when casts are so overly diverse that it is no longer believable. I'm all for the whole melting pot, ethnic and gender diversity, let's love and hug everyone thing, but not when it becomes so obvious that it becomes the main focus. In the scene where Ender departs Earth in a shuttle to head off to the battle training space station, blue-eyed, extremely Caucasian Ender is seated among Indians, Asians, African-Americans, white kids with every hair color you could imagine...so many ethnicities it is overwhelming. So, we have this over-the-top level of diversity, yet some of the children fall into the most blatant stereotypes you can imagine. Example: the two bully characters are burly, chubby, piggy-eyed and not-too-bright boys (picture in your mind's eye Crabbe and Goyle from the Harry Potter movies, if you've seen them). The Indian boys are academic geniuses, and the Hispanic boy is pushy, overbearing, has an unbridled Napoleon complex, a thick accent and his dialogue is sprinkled with Spanish profanities ("Que pasa, pendejo?"). To be fair, these blatant generalizations may be accurate to the text; it just happened to be something that stood out like Larry the Cable Guy in a yoga class. 

Like ripping off a bandage, it's time to get the unpleasant but necessary aspect of writing a brief plot summary out of the way. Earth is in turmoil (when isn't it these days?) after barely surviving an alien invasion. To avoid a future encounter with the Formics (the name of the giant bug-like species that nearly wiped out humanity), a division of the military is bringing children to a battle school in space to train them to be merciless warriors. However, the head hanchos of this division still seek a leader for the kiddie army. This is where Ender Wiggin comes in. This is an underdog story in a sense- Ender starts off as a lanky, shy wallflower and the third child to his parents. Apparently, all of future Earth will be pulling a China and limiting the amount of kids couples can have. Since Ender's older siblings showed promise for being the prophesied leader but eventually failed, his parents were allowed to have a third kid. 

After years of observing his personality, demeanor and overall actions, Colonel Graff and Major Gwen Anderson (Harrison Ford and Viola Davis, respectively), decide that Ender is the child they wish to mould (aka corrupt) to be the leader of the child army and bring salvation to the world by defeating the insect army. According to Colonel Graff and the others observing the Formics, time is running out as the enemy is planning an offensive maneuver against Earth. Dun, dun, dun! No time to lose! So much suspense, and all that. Thus, after informing him that he is the "chosen one" so to speak, Ender heads off to space for training. Throughout his formative experience, he learns of corruption among the militant leaders, grows and develops just as you'd expect in a coming of age tale, and discovers the importance of peace in a war torn world. 

Wow, that felt worse than your typical bandage removal- that bandage was one of the heavy duty, sweat proof, water proof, acid rain proof, apocalypse proof (that is a lot of proofs) ones sealed with superglue to the arm of a hairy caveman. Ok, maybe I am being a tad dramatic. Cinematically, Ender's Game is laden with engaging and stimulating visuals. The CGI folks did a surprisingly good job of adding emotion to the dark, beady, orb-like eyes of the insect-like Formic queen to the point. I could almost empathize with the alien's plight to the point where, if I saw that insect in real life, I may put away my can of Raid (I felt the need to tie in my blog title. Accomplished.) after beholding such eyes. 

I'd say wait for Redbox for this one, unless you are seriously inclined to see Harrison Ford with an atrocious haircut on the big screen. 

Not your best look, Harrison

Enough to Say About Enough Said

Rotten Tomatoes let me down like a bad friend the other day when I trusted its 95% review of Enough Said to the point I was willing to drop $8.75 (the "discounted" matinee price) to see it in theaters. I suppose Rotten Tomatoes cannot be solely blamed for the over-rating of this film. I let my guard down and raised my expectations which, in retrospect, was a grave error on my part. I should continue to expect the worst of the worst as I have previously- a tactic which allows the complete evasion of disappointment.

Okay, okay- maybe I am getting a wee bit dramatic (like a 15-year-old girl whose mother just forbade her from going to prom with high school senior jock Shane Jackson after she discovered that he got busted with pot at the last football game). There were redeeming factors sprinkled among the array of average cinematic elements. My already well-established lady crush on Julia Louis-Dreyfus (is she related to Richard Dreyfus? Or is his spelled Dreyfuss? I could look it up but I am too lazy to bring my hand all the way to the search bar in the upper right corner) somehow managed to grow more than I thought possible. Her perfect portrayal of Elaine alone in Seinfeld was reason enough to watch every episode of that show. Something about her charming, over-zealous smile, quirky sense of humor and radiation of self-confidence is immensely endearing- characteristics that she carried over well from the role of Elaine to the role of Eva in Enough Said. Okay, lesbian moment over. Sorry about that, guys.

How could you not fall in love with this quirky, sexy lady??

Quick plot summary: Eva (Louis-Dreyfus) is a divorced, self-employed masseuse with clients ranging from elderly men with bad breath overly excited during her massages to chatty-Cathy Momzillas who never shut up about their children and social lives. One evening, she accompanies her Australian therapist friend (Toni Collette-actually, her character might be English in this movie) and her husband to a party where she meets a new client, Marianne (Catherine Keener) and a man named Albert (James Gandolfini) with whom she briefly converses about how they both have daughters about to head to college and both find no one at the party attractive (though clearly, Albert wants Eva as he asks Australian therapist's husband for her digits later. Whatever, I'm getting nitpicky). Anyway, he calls Eva and she agrees to go out with him even though he is a bit "flabby" and not attractive in the "traditional sort of way" (in other words, he has a beer belly and a receding hairline). She takes awhile to warm up to him, but their first date is enjoyable for them and enjoyable to watch as well- I found myself awkwardly laughing out loud during those scenes (but at least I was in good company and not laughing alone to the distaste of the rest of the audience). The conversations between Eva and Albert during the first half or so of the movie are immensely entertaining and one of the best saving graces of the film.

Eventually, as their relationship progresses, so does Eva's relationship with the client she met at the same party at which she met Albert. The two ladies begin discussing the fluffy topics that ladies typically discuss- their former marriages, their current relationships, their daughters and jobs. Most notably, Marianne rambles about how awful her ex-husband is. This may be a spoiler, but I'm pretty sure they give it away in the trailer so I'm just going to say it: Eva's female client ends up being Albert's ex-wife. Plot twist! Didn't see that coming! Eva doesn't know what to do since she allegedly values both relationships and also wants to find out more about Albert's shortcomings although in doing so, she simply poisons her own mind against him. Do they end up together? Do they not? I won't give that away because then there really wouldn't be a point in seeing it even when it comes out on Netflix.

Much to my displeasure, the writers interwove a strange, unfinished plot thread through the tapestry of the main events of the film, and the fact that they left it hanging irritated me just as an actual thread hanging off a tapestry (or off a shirt- that is a more realistic scenario) would. Chloe (Tavi Gevinson, who looks exactly like a young Michelle Williams), the friend of Eva's daughter Ellen (Tracey Fairaway) has some mommy issues and therefore spends all of her time trying to bond with Eva, much to Ellen's displeasure. However, every time Eva attempts to remedy this situation with her daughter by spending more time with her, Ellen just broods and holds a grudge like your typical 18-year-old would and doesn't even make an effort. Eventually, Chloe's mom gets mad at Eva for "stealing her daughter" and then we never see either of them again and the writers leave it at that. Does Chloe ever end up with a better home situation? Does she make up with Ellen for "stealing her mother"? Who knows? I hate loose ends.

No resolution for their relationship...

Speaking of the younger characters in the movie, when Eva and Albert's relationship begins to blossom substantially, he introduces her to his 18-year-old daughter Tess (Eve Hewson). Tess is horrendously, irritatingly snobby, a personality which I see as completely unnecessary. I suppose it is to show the effect that her parent's divorce had on her personality, but all she did was bother me and make me want to slap her hard in the face. Her presence in the film is necessary, however; she acts as a McGuffin (some film class knowledge rearing its head there) which is a means of driving the plot forward.

Despite its flaws, on which I perhaps focused too much attention, Enough Said is worth seeing once it comes out, but perhaps not the overly-generous 95% rating from Rotten Tomatoes. Maybe I will think twice before trusting that site again.

Bionic Matt Damon

The bass of an indiscernible hip hop song thumps in the background as children scamper and wearly-looking adults trudge along in the streets of an overpopulated Los Angeles. That looked about right to me after having spent substantial time in the city of Angeles. The big shock came to me as the year "2154" scrolled across the movie screen. I was under the impression things were already a bit desperate/Apocalyptic there already. A bit later after informing the audience of the setting and time period they made sure to include some robots for good measure.

I understand the draw of a few million dollars, but I still can't help feeling slighted by actors generally opting for quality films when they make the financially-motivated decision to appear in cinematic *ahem* "gems" *ahem* (the ahems indicate sarcasm) like Elysium. The trailer indicated a generic, futuristic Sci-Fi movie offering a bleak outlook of the future of oh-so-doomed humanity with some potentially promising action scenes, aesthetically pleasing cinematography and A-list ish actors (though I can't claim familiarity with the celebrity rating system. I think Jodi Foster and Matt Damon are A list or at least B+ list). 

Alright, quick plot summary: Earth is overpopulated, disease-ridden and unsanitary, so the elite members of the human race create a means of preserving their uppity way of life on a weird, floating wheel-shaped space station called Elysium. Everyone and their drug dealer wants a ticket up there, naturally; one of the major draws being that any ailment suffered by Elysium citizens is cured instantly. It is an attempt at a commentary on society with the rich being selfless, soulless jerks who seldom look in the direction of the poverty and ill-stricken. The first scene is a flashback to young Max (Matt Damon) speaking poor Spanish with a random nun about how one day he wants to get to Elysium with his childhood girlfriend. As adults, childhood-girlfriend chick is a nurse with a dying child. Since Max suffers from radiation poisoning at work and is trying to get to Elysium himself, his lady love uses her sexy Spanish accent and and the fact that he is hot for her to convince him to take them as well. The girl pathetically fails to pull off the cute thing by telling some horrible story to Max in a desperate attempt to invoke some mercy. She is a horrible child actress. Man, I am already sick of typing what I hoped would be a basic summary and there is still an insane amount of plot lines to touch on. 

To get a ticket to Elysium, Max offers to do a favor for a Los Angeles gangster who is basically impossible to understand. To do so, he undergoes an unnecessarily graphic surgery transforming him into a partially-bionic human USB stick. His task is to download the technical code capable of overthrowing Elysium from the brain of some CEO guy. Confused yet? A few poorly coordinated and unnecessary action scenes later, Max gets the information accompanied by a predictable warning from CEO guy that he would regret it. DUN DUN DUN. Being a citizen of Elysium, the death of pretentious CEO guy is not taken lightly by Jodi Foster, the heartless ruler of the utopia. Thus, she sends out her minions, two unwashed assassins flying around in a hover craft. The more evil of the two has metal implanted in his face for no reason and speaks in this accent sounding like a hybrid between South African, cockney English, and maybe a hint of Australian. The tone of his voice resonates far too many decibels higher than would ever allow it to be taken seriously, thus instantly making him a poor casting choice.

Hm, you've got something on your face, buddy...

Here's where I leave you sitting on the edge of your seats with bated breath: do the deserving impoverished overthrow the cold-hearted elites and earn a spot on Elysium? Hm, so hard to predict...

No Need to Turn on the A/C

Unless you've seen Gilmore Girls, you're likely to equate Melissa McCarthy and Kristen Stewart in their one-dimmensional acting ability. Even while delivering a half-vampire baby which I assume hurts with or without an epidural, Stewart's face is a blank slate. I think Hell may freeze over the day Kristen Stewart expresses something other than nonchalance. I will be completely floored, as I'm sure will anyone used to the crude McCarthy using her weight to her comedic advantage if they watch her portrayal of Sookie St. James in Gilmore Girls. Sookie is a vivacious, generous, goofy and bubbly. And then there is Mullins, McCarthy's character in her latest flick, The Heat.

If you've seen Bridesmaids, The Hangover III (if you have, I'm really sorry), Identity Theif (also sorry) you are already well-acquainted with this character. Personally, the "haha she is overweight" thing never really did it for me. Her appeal in my mind stems from her little known ability to embrace varying roles. And as for Sandra Bullock... I've stopped having any expectations about her performances. I'm not sure how she agreed to partake in both The Blind Side and All About Steve within the same year. Maybe she owed a favor to the mob of horrible Hollywood films (you know, the angry Italians actively trying to ruin acting careers). Anyway, this role seemed somewhat beneath her, but she did an average job and looks really hot for her age.

This being a movie review, a summary must be in order. Okay, here goes:
Agent Ashburn (Bullock) is a snarky, over-confident FBI agent sent to Boston to work on a case regarding a drug dealer. She is forced to work with Mullins (McCarthy), the crude Boston cop who, to put it lightly, curses like a sailor. Naturally, they don't get along, but Ashburn is jonseing for a promotion and her only means of acquiring it is by showing she can work well with Mullins (I think you need a map to follow that reasoning). So they fight, and they catch the drug dealer guy, and then through all the turmoil become best friends. How utterly predictable.

Let's see if we meet all of the requirements to dub this a crude comedy with female leads:
-Fart jokes: check
-Excessive use of the F word: check
-An ongoing joke about McCarthy's weight: check, check, check
-Random, extremely unnecessary bloody scene: check
-Complete and utter failed attempt at a serious emotional scene where the characters bond: check

Also fun fact: Melissa McCarthy and Jenny McCarthy are cousins. Seriously.

Coppola's Cautionary Tale

Sofia Coppola's most recent silver screen release, Bling Ring, offers more golden nuggets of wisdom than the Dali Lama. A list of the most striking life lessons will follow this brief plot summary, so stay tuned.

Bling Ring follows stereotypical Los Angeles teenagers Nicki (Emma Watson), Chloe (Claire Julien), Sam (Taissa Farmiga), and Marc (Israel Broussard) as they and their "ring leader" Rebecca (Katie Chang) engage in a year-long spree burglarizing celebrity homes, namely that of Paris Hilton. The tale is based on the 2008-2009 burglaries of celebrity homes in the Hollywood Hills by a group of rebellious teenagers who stole more than $3 million in goods from the homes of Paris Hilton, Audrina Patridge, Rachel Bilson, Orlando Bloom and Lindsay Lohan among others. Normally I might feel sad for the "victims," but their closets overflowing with jewelry worth hundreds of thousands of dollars somehow give a comical vibe to the story. I have to applaud their selection of celebrities to screw over- seeing their exorbitant amount of belongings recreated on screen made me ever-so-slightly nauseous. Naturally, they could only evade the authorities and the justice system for so long, and I don't consider it a spoiler that they all eventually get caught.

1) If you are 17 and unemployed, don't post pictures of yourself holding fanned out $100 bills to Facebook. I hoped that one was a no-brainer, but I guess not.

Not Intelligent

Better Choice of Bills

2) Don't leave your wallet loaded with cash in your car with the doors unlocked in front of your house. May as well put a neon sign above it saying "ROB ME"

3) Don't leave your keys under your welcome mat, Paris Hilton.

4) In general, doing a bunch of cocaine and robbing homes is not the best idea.

See? Chalk full of advice!

Star Trek Triumphs

I've discovered the key to enjoying every movie you see in the theaters: lower your expectations. I mean REALLY lower the bar, to the point where even Thumbelina would get stuck trying to limbo under it. Before going to see the latest addition to the Star Trek family, I lowered my expectations to just such a point- I prematurely expected myself to be miserable and trying to inconspicuously check the time on my cell phone without everyone in my immediate vicinity noticing. I could not have been so pleasantly surprised.

I see it as a Hollywood cop-out when film companies recycle material and it seldom works to their advantage. The new Star Wars series, for example. But this latest Star Trek broke this moldy cliche. The script was smart and sassy, with witty humor and hardly any gag-reflex-inducing one liners. The plot moved right along and never felt too draggy, which is an applaudable accomplishment given the two-hour-plus running time. As is inevitable in today's sensationalist cinema, the amount of action on the screen was enough to induce an epileptic seizure. The main issue with the film for me was simply a technical fault of the theater itself- the volume was cranked to the point where the screeching noises could easily have shattered a glass or two.

The plot wove together elements from a garden variety of the previous Star Trek episodes and movies. No offense to actor Benedict Cumberbatch, but his slightly snake-like eyes, stark-black hair and pasty complexion perfectly equip him to play the ultimate villain. I mean, this guy creeped me out more than a pack of clowns on Halloween. Juxtapose that with eye candy Chris Pine as Captain Kirk, and you really can't go wrong. I am indifferent about the guy who plays Spock, to the point where I am not going to bother looking him up. The way I see it, if you take any expressionless, pale, black-haired male and give him uppity eyebrows and a Beatle's haircut, you have created Spock. Oh, I guess he has to be able to make that Vulcan salute, which is actually a challenge for some.

I hate movie review conclusions. Just go see it.

*Sniffle* Must....Not...Cry....*Sniffle*

I can officially no longer say that I don't cry during movies, thanks to Hugh Jackman and Ann Hathaway's cathartic final number in Les Miserables (please please don't make me add the accent every time I write that... oh yeah, it's my blog I can do whatever I want. Also I can't figure out how to add an accent with Blogger. Just use your written-accent mark imaginations to visualize it). I'm not sure if it's possible to be immune to that song's ability to literally extract every ounce of feeling from your soul until tears inevitably well up in your eyes. It was like an emotional ambush- I felt confident that I was composed and had it together and then all of a sudden I was on the verge of bawling like a baby.

Ah, the power of songs telling a passionate story. That is what the musical Les Miserables embodies, and what the film does almost to a greater extent. It is an evocative enough experience to see on stage, in London as I did, yet completely different and equally powerful to see on the big screen. 

It helps that the director who took on this monumental project was one with unparalleled skill, recently demonstrated in The King's Speech. Tom Hooper experiments with utilizing different cinematic techniques much to the benefit of the audience. Much of these techniques, such as extreme close-ups on the actors, he did not initially intend to use. According to an NPR interview, he realized while shooting that nothing but the raw emotion on their faces needed to be shown on the screen while they sang many of the songs. While viewing Les Miserables, you will instantly note the veracity in this statement. I have seldom seen such a passionate and evocative performance as that of Ann Hathaway singing I Dreamed a Dream. And that camera really does get in her face- you could not only count her pores but possibly even her skin cells if you felt so inclined (if you did feel so inclined I would be concerned). Critics have accurately labeled her the "show-stealer." Hooper also stated in the aforementioned interview that he told the cast to sing each song as if it were the first time it were being sung and she truly took this suggestion to heart. I would not attempt to count the amount of times I have heard I Dreamed a Dream, but my soul ached for Ann's version as if hearing it for the first time. My soul also ached during the scene where her gorgeous, glossy locks are shorn off before our eyes. And I don't think they donated to Locks of Love back in 1800s France. 

I Dreamed a Dream may have stolen the spotlight overall, but I personally enjoyed a different one more. The song On My Own has always had a soft spot in my heart. It is such a bittersweet ballad that tugs ceaselessly at your heart strings. Or mine, anyways- maybe our heart strings are tuned in different keys. I anxiously awaited for it to be performed in the film and was not disappointed. It was yet another moment in the film that caused goosebumps to prickle up along my arm. 

It's not all oozy-gooey emotional. Casting Sacha Barron Cohen (the guy from Borat and Helena Bonham Carter [what's with the three name thing?]) as the sloppy, boorish innkeepers added the humorous icing on the already very scrumptious musical cake. While I was still wiping away the tears induced by Hathaway's passionate ballad, tears of laughter took their place the instant those two stepped on screen. Bravo to whoever decided to cast them. Actually, every single character was perfectly-cast. Young Cosette was the epitome of precious and shockingly, could sing as well. 

Now, to address some of the criticisms floating out there in cinema cyberspace. Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe have been unjustly berated for their "sub-par" voices (what do film critics have against Aussies??). I do not think these criticisms bear any weight, so just ignore them. They both did a fantastic job both singing an acting. 

Clearly, I loved Les Mis. Do yourself a favor and go see it, but make sure you bring some tissues. You will need them whether or not you think you will. And prepare those around you that you will be singing or at least humming the soundtrack for at least the next week to come.