The Third Hobbit and the End of an Era

I am about to wax emotional in this post about The Hobbit, The Battle of the Five Armies. So, be prepared with your Lactaid so you can handle all of the cheesiness.

I realised as I entered the theatre on opening day that it signified the end of an era. It would be the last Lord of the Rings or Hobbit movie premiere that I would ever attend. This made me feel even more grateful to be there. 

I remember distinctly my first experience seeing a film about the wonderful world of Tolkien’s Middle Earth. I was only 11 at the time, and had not been introduced to the books yet. I knew nothing of Orcs or Hobbits, and I had never heard of Gandalf the Grey. My world was about to be turned upside down.

Pick me, pick me!

One day in Chicago, my father suggested we see The Fellowship of the Ring. When my young self discovered the PG-13 rating, I became afraid. At that time, just about any movie monster could potentially give me nightmares for weeks at a time. Actually, not much has changed as far as that goes.

However, my father insisted that it was nothing I couldn't handle, so I agreed to go, though with some reluctance. The instant I beheld Tolkien’s magical world and became acquainted with its inhabitants, I never wanted to be anywhere else.

For every subsequent film, I was there on opening day, sometimes dressed like a creature from Tolkien’s wonderful world. I read the books from cover to cover and loved every second I spent traveling through Middle Earth with all of its inhabitants. I became obsessed to say the least with the films, memorising every line and seeing them many times in theatres.

Peter Jackson has quite the talent for making me cry. No matter how many times I watch The Fellowship of the Ring, I always tear up at the end when Boromir gives his last to save Merry and Pippin. Emotions well up inside me when Sam gives his speech about the fight between good over evil. When Aragorn gives his speech to motivate the troops in the second film, I want to burst through the screen and fight Sauron’s minions myself.

Hold on, let me just get my tissues...

In the last instalment of The Hobbit trilogy, I felt tears welling up behind my eyes at least three separate times. Honestly, it wasn't my favourite of the six Peter Jackson films, but it succeeded in captivating my attention for the entire running time. It was appealing visually, it was emotional, had plenty of action (and of course, some over the top battles featuring Legolas doing badass elf things), and a perfect ending. Martin Freeman was perfect as Bilbo, as usual. 

The songs in the credits of Jackson's films are generally quite impressive, but unfortunately Ed Sheeran, the best singer in the entire world, already sang for the last one so I knew that nothing could top it. I was right of course, but I enjoyed hearing Billy Boyd's (the actor who played Pippin) song nonetheless.

The Japanese teacher who accompanied me to my final Lord of the Rings premiere summarised the film better than I ever could. He said “to me, it is about love, friendship and fight for good.” Well said, sir, well said. I will hold these messages in my heart.

And so, as Gandalf sings, "the road goes ever on and on, back to the door where it began." 

Fifty Shades of BLAH

The third installment in the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy was one of the most terrible novels (as far as plot goes) that I have ever read in my life. I mean literally, it was painful to get through almost every page. I only forced myself through it because I had already read the first two and for some unknown reason I came to slightly care what happens to the characters. I just happened to be invested by that point.

Okay so I GUESS I should mention that the following contains spoilers about what happens in the third book of the Fifty Shades trilogy, but honestly, there is not much to give away. If you have a slight amount of common sense you can infer what happens after reading the first page of the first book. But, whatever, if you really want to hold on to the minimal suspense accompanying not knowing what happens in the third book, stop reading now.

The series went from a steamy novel about an innocent 21-year-old driven mad by the sexy charms of an older man interested in BDSM to a story about a rich married couple with nothing but a bunch of white people problems to desperately attempt to inject conflict into the story. Where should we buy our third mansion? Should we have three spoiled kids or just two? Is a Mercedes fancy enough or do we need to go with a Lamborghini?

Those days are gone...

I was annoyed with the protagonist, Ana, from page one of book one, but in book three she becomes somehow more unbearable still. For example, she goes on and on about how she never eats and thus is super thin, and how Christian (sexy man) gets mad at her for never eating. Is this really the kind of character with whom girls should be sympathizing? I think not. There are enough young women with eating disorders at this point. She also complains whenever Christian gives her an expensive present, but then instantly gets over it. Like, in one scene he buys her a brand new R8, whatever the hell that is, I am not a car person, and she gets all pouty about it for a grand total of about one second and then

shrugs her shoulders and decides she may as well get used to being richer than Bill Gates.

This raises another question: how exactly did Christian come in possession of such vast amounts of capitol? He is not a trust fund baby exactly, and he is vaguely described in the beginning of the series as a CEO of a company. Could the author be any more vague? Christian Grey is supposed to be 27 and filthy rich. Not buying it. I guess I shouldn't have expected much in the way of plot for an erotic novel series. I admit I didn't know was to expect.

So basically, Ana started out as a somewhat strong and independent female character and morphs into a woman who get married to the first guy she dates and then becomes filthy rich and does whatever he says. Okay, being dominated in the bedroom is one thing, but having him tell her what to do elsewhere is not cool if she is allegedly a strong female lead. Perhaps one of the most irritating moments was when she wanted to keep her maiden name at work and is “determined” to do so no matter what Christian says and then instantly caves when he asks her to change it. Real strong, Ana, real strong.

There is also a point where her father is in the hospital, and she still goes back to have sex with Christian right after visiting him. That is messed up on so many levels. I mean, come on, they do the nasty basically every time they lay eyes on each other, I’m pretty sure one night off is not going to do anyone any harm. On that same note, the libidos of both characters are just unbelievable. Like, once you have been with someone for a certain amount of time, I don't care how sexy he or she is, your desire levels inevitably dip at least a little bit.

Perhaps my issue was just having far too high of expectations for an erotic novel. That is just simply not how I get my kicks. I prefer a little bit of a plot. I mean no offense whatsoever to the author of the trilogy, even though I just spent a good deal of time bashing her novel. Props to her for creating a worldwide phenomenon. She is probably so stinking rich at this point that any form of criticism, especially from a little nobody teacher in Japan, doesn't even slightly bother her. I hope that is the case, and that she doesn't send out assassins to “take care of me” on her behalf.

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.

Orphanage Romance

Move over, little orphan Annie! The true story I am about to recite chronicling the life of one of the employees of the volunteer organization here puts her rags to riches tale to shame. So, when we girls found out about his recent marriage, we of course cooed and wanted to know more, in particular if his marriage was arranged (as 70% still are here) or if if was, as they say, a "love marriage." When he said it was a love marriage, we were even more intrigued. Rightfully so, it turns out, as it truly is the kind of great love story and feel good story that Hollywood goes nuts for.

So after a rough upbringing, he ran away at the age of 10 to a hotel where he lived and worked as a dishwasher. One of the guests, who he refers to as one of his heroes, brought him to an orphanage where he met his wife, who had been there since age six. The orphanage happened to be one at which volunteers from this organization used to work, which is how he got his job. So, he and his wife grew up together in the orphanage and when they were 21, he asked her if she loved him and said that if she did, they should get married. He said she took a bit to think it over but then said yes. Now they are married happily and he says he is extremely happy with his life, and it shows. When people have lived through such trying experiences and can still be consistently joyful and kind, it really puts our lives into perspective.

I plan to turn this into a screenplay that will cause moviegoers worldwide to bawl or at least tear up. I mean, it would be an instant blockbuster and possibly a Best Picture winner- two orphans grow up together, fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. It could also potentially be a Disney movie with sequels and original music.

...Or it could be a Bollywood movie. For anyone who hasn't seen one, they are lengthy productions with intermissions and always have at least one colorful song and dance number. Bollywood films are fun but there is no rhyme or reason as to what they deem appropriate and what is too scandalous. For example, it was apparently acceptable to show a bra from a distance and on an exotic dancer, but a close up of a bra that someone was holding was blurred out like a criminal's face in police shows. The lead character drank until she was fairly sloshed, danced and partied, and tongue-kissed a random older Italian man. Sensitive readers may need to skip over this next scandalous bit- Rani, the lead female, shared a hostel in Amsterdam with THREE other MEN! What a slut.

Thankfully, despite being in Hindi, the plot was easier to follow than a snail moving in a straight line through molasses. Random English phrases were sprinkled among the dialogue as well, with seemingly no rhyme or reason like whenever they said "I love you." The songs were entertaining, most of the jokes were apparent even in Hindi, and it was a good story of female empowerment. I highly recommend "Queen."

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. 

This Wind Rose Miyazaki to New Heights

To quote myself in a previous post, "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)." My memories of watching Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle with my eyes wide in awe and child-like wonderment are some that I hold closest to my heart. Despite their animated existence, I fell in love with every single one of his vibrant characters. Chirio, Haku and Kamaji from Spirited Away, Ponyo and Risa in Ponyo, Howl, Sofi and Calcifer from Howl's Moving Castle barely graze the surface of the list of characters created by the magical imagination of Hayao Miyazaki.

One of the best movies ever made. No debate.

Described as Miyazaki's "swan song" as he claims it is his last (which he has done before, though he insists he is "quite serious" this time), The Wind Rises follows a boy named Jiro with a dream of designing planes as he grows into a young man and becomes an aeronautical engineer. Along the way, he meets a lovely young woman with tuberculosis with whom he falls head over heels in love and eventually marries. Though not as mystical and fantastical as his other films, The Wind Rises is nonetheless charming and absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. Every scene is a work of art in itself, bursting at the cinematic seams with vibrant colors that completely engross the audience.

Jiro and his career seem to be a clear parallel for Miyazaki and his. First of all, Miyazaki was raised by a plane designer who made rudders for WWII planes. He also remarks that living during a war where he would hear bomb raids regularly had a lasting impression on him. His thoughts on war manifest themselves clearly in the plot of The Wind Rises. Miyazaki also suffered from tuberculosis as a child, another parallel in the film as Jiro's wife has the same condition.

There are more subtle symbolic tones demonstrating parallels as well. Jiro designs flawed plane after flawed plane until he finally creates a masterpiece before declaring the end of his career. At one point, a character in the film declares that artists only have "10 years of creativity" and asks Jiro how he felt he spent his and though I cannot remember his exact answer, it is somewhere along the lines of "to the fullest" (it was in Japanese anyway so I could never even try to quote that).

Seeing this movie was a bittersweet experience for me. Every tiny aspect that comprised the film from the animation to the soundtrack tugged at my heartstrings, and I walked out of the theater beaming at having just witnessed such a beautiful story on screen but also saddened to realize it may be my last time seeing a new Miyazaki film.

I hope he accepts my marriage proposal

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... 

Still Confused About Time

About Time entertained me more than most of the films I have seen in theaters recently, so before I list the negative aspects which will undoubtedly appear to negate that previous statement, I'll hammer out the good stuff. Maybe that is backwards logic, however; that would be like starting dinner with your favorite food and ending it with your least. I don't want to leave a lingering, nasty sentiment on your mental taste bds, but I am going to try it this way anyhow. It's my blog, not yours. Sorry, that was a very rude digital comment.

The filmmakers and authors out there selecting time travel as a topic need to sit down at a conference table (or at a long table at a coffee shop, since they seem to frequent those), pass around some donuts and coffee, and make some concrete decisions about the technicalities concerning venturing backwards, forwards, upside down and any other theoretical movement through time. As a reader/moviegoer, attempting to keep all of the rules and regs their exceptions straight does nothing short of give me a throbbing headache. I don't like popping Advil mid-movie. Right when you think you know the technicalities like the back of your hand, they throw you an illogical curve ball. I like a curve ball if it will win the World Series for my home team, but not right when time travel starts to make sense.

When the father (who is never named, but fabulously portrayed by Bill Nighy) in About Time informs his son Tim (played by one Domhnall Gleeson, aka Charlie Weasley in Harry Potter) that the men, and only the men, can travel backwards, and only backwards, in time, I nodded and jotted these two rules in my mental notepad. I felt that was easy enough to follow.

Then, my whole mental note was brutally ripped to shreds by the evil screenwriter when every time the son travels back in time, he later travels forward to get back to the original moment from which he traveled. What is this? Some kind of confusing exception? Was I supposed to simply forget about the aforementioned conversation where it was explicitly stated that, while backwards time travel is entirely acceptable, forward time travel defies the laws of physics? It wouldn't have been as bad if this forward traveling occurred only once- maybe the son discovered a rip in time-space allowing him to do so. As if these multiple occurrences weren't enough of a head-scratcher on their own, imagine how I felt when explicitly-stated rule number two, that only men can travel in time, was broken as well.

Ok, so here was the takeaway regarding time travel rules by the end credits: the members of Tim's family with a Y chromosome can travel back in time unless they are holding hands with a female in their family (or is it any female? That was never clarified). They can never travel forwards in time unless it is to a place from which they already traveled back. These two rules and rule exceptions alone caused so many questions to creep up for me. I would list many more confusing rules that came about, but it would mean listing spoilers and I know how panties-in-a-knot people can get about those.

I will end on a positive note after all, the note of D flat. There's a little musical notation humor for you. But seriously, About Time leaves its viewers with a beautifully positive message to mull over. There is one particularly touching moment in the film, the kind that makes sensitive individuals reaching for the packet of tissues that may or may not exist in their pocket or purse or at least lift their shirt sleeve to their watery eyes. Tim's father doles out a touching piece of advice to his son. He tells him to use his gift of time travel to live each day twice: the first time, he instructs him to live the day complete with the stresses on which we normally dwell, and the second to go back to the start of that same day and only notice the little beauties which we typically overlook. What a nice piece of advice. I'm still confused about time travel, though...

I guess they also have to put on their best constipated face when they travel in time

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.