Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Not much else to say, though Republican Presidential Candidate and Southern Baptist Minister Mike Huckabee seems like one of the above too (btw, the arrow's only pointing at me... er... her, but that don't mean shit)...
Oh, wait, I do have a Liver Sport Report: Major Beleaguered Baseball announced today that instead of inserting a * beside the stat of a record broken by a player in the Steroid Era (like when Big Head Barry and the Bonds passes His Honor Hammerin' Hank Aaron in a month or so), they'll be putting a picture of an Asteroid. Though Bud "None For The Wiser" Selig is and has been Major League Baseball impersonated (since his coup d'etat years back of O Fay Can You Vincent), he had no comment. He figured an Asteroid will go there for him.
Check out mediocrenewyork.com already, will ya...
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Ok, so I know I'm not alone in tanking this Gary Marshall stinker, but if I were you, I'd rule out seeing "Georgia Rule" for different reasons than those you may have already heard or read. Everyone seems to be saying that Lyndsay Lohan's performance in this cinematic after-school special (as a lying slut who gets soap in her mouth) is the films single asset. I disagree, there are 2, her tits. Those wonderful natural specimens of voluptuous, blossoming femality, along with her uncanny (I wonder why?!) ability to deliver lines about blow jobs and seeing/touching her de-pantified punani, are the only things that stand out in "Georgia Rule", so skip it.
Mixing a standard rich fish out of Cali water story with a tentative tale of adolescent rape is admirable of Director Gary Marshal, but it's pushing it too, esp. when the former includes hoky slapstick gags, tasteless jokes about kiddie erections and gratuitous shots of Jane Fonda's aging (yet somehow still shapely) tucas. I commend Marshall for bringing to the screen a touchy subject, but the sad thing is that what he ended up with is a Laverne Dafazio meets Big Ragu storyline (in this case, Lohan and some pick-up truck ridin', bohunk, Mormon model), uneasily trying to live alongside something bigger, and the wooden dialogue and over all cliche sitcominess that ensues makes the Director's sister Penny's clunker "Riding in Cars with Boys" seem like Oscar material by comparison.
Lohan's bi-atch Lolita keeps the soap afloat, but mainly, as I said, for visual reasons. As for her co-stars, only the oddly likeable Dermot Mulroney succeeds (did he have a hair-lip?), though his role is purely a transparent plot device to counter a fat, creepy Cary Elwes (where the hell has been?!), as the scripted "bad man". To round out the cast, Desperate Housewife Felicity Huffman, lookin' eerily like Edie Falco, plays a desperate housewife, and Jane Fonda, in the title role, has obviously kinda lost her acting ability (along with the extra skin that used to shape her face).
In conclusion, there were 2 "Georgia Rule"s I was able to take out of this film:
#1 - thumb your nose (or hold it) at so-called dramatic turns by Lyndsay Lohan, unless you can't get enough of her tits
#2 - make sure Jane Fonda does not break her rule to stop getting plastic surgery (before her plastic surgerized skin breaks off)
Regarding the title of my lil' review here, well, I cannot vouche for Barbarella of yor Jane Fonda's knockers anymore, but had Ray Charles been alive and able to behold Lohan's bountiful barbarellas, I think a certain song woulda been renamed.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Spider-Man 3 "duhs" whatever a Spider-Man movie can, apparently, as it earned like a
quadrillion freakin' bucks domestically and internationally over it's 1st weekend. This may be the case, but I felt like that kid in Oregon who just had 2 spiders removed from his ear the other day after I saw it; kinda violated, an' like hurtin' near the brain and shit. Shoulda-been-a-Hobbit actor Tobey Maguire is back with his weirdly endearing but poorly acted, goofy (and seemingly totally stoned) take on Peter Parker, but am I the only dunce who still doesn't see what the appeal is to Kirsten Dunst? As Little Pete's aptly named love drug of choice, Mary Jane, she is once again just plain annoying as all get-out, and that face of hers is growing more and more prune-like yo. James Franco, on the other hand, who reprises his role as best bud Harry Osborn, fares better. This time around he gets to stretch his forever James Dean-esque persona a bit more, and at times he seems like he's acting in a far better picture then the one he's in. The best thing to come out of this 3rd spinneret in the Spidey series though is yet again the addition of the new peas in the pod; Bryce Dallas Howard as Gwen Stacy, and Thomas Haden Church as The Sandman. With the arrival of Howard, this series finally has a hot chick, and one that was written within its original Marvel Comics pages to boot. As for Church, what we have is yet another example of a talented actor playing a Spider-foe and stealing the Spider-show. Now there's also Topher Grace for good, bad and ugly measure, as the demented Venom, a latter day comic villain from the The Amazing Spider-Man,
but he arrives via some Nickelodeon-style (albeit black) gook from outer space, and in my opinion this character woulda been better off staying there. Don't get me wrong, I like Topher, and I'll never be able to get over his name, but I guess I'm an old-school comic book fan, and this Venom shit just doesn't work alongside an, er, more believable crook like Sandman. Venom's addition magnifies, in this mediocre reviewer's eyes, what's really wrong with the Sam Rami Spider-Man movies: they can't decide who their fans are.
Hell, I collected Spider-Man comics when I was a kid because I thought he was cool, but the facts are that he ain't on screen no more. Yes, I'd rather see him statically pushed on a pin along a flat, drawn skyline in the 70's cartoon than over-hyped here. Spider-Man's a sell-out now, and comes off more like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo then a Super Hero too (maybe they should call the next won "Spider-Doo?"). About 2/3rds of the way through this flick, during S3's version of the now-requisite silly musical montage-thing that ruined Spider-Man 2 for many, my Spidey-senses were tingling alright, or something inside me was, and so I got up and went to take a piss. Having to sit through that crap, along with scenes like the one where Peter canoodles with Mary Jane atop a huge web-hammock he spun himself, is downright embarrassing for a true Spider-Man fan, and thusly killed this film for me. Yes, the CGI effects have gotten better with this installment, but the Cool, Go In (and see the shit) factor that the X-Men series has is missing, and I hear they're gonna keep squishin' these Spider-Megamovies out until Tobey Baggins is doing his worst 30-something year old teen ala Brandon in 90210 (now he woulda been a good Peter Parker back then, def. a more believable chick magnate). If they want to keep spinning these yarns for grammar school kids, fine, then I guess it's time for me to finally sell my old Spidey comics that I've kept sitting around all these years. I'll still keep Thor, as I don't think they can down-size the God of Thunder...
Weird... it just occurred to me that somehow Batman traded places with Spider-Man over the years and became the cooler screen Super Hero for the masses. When I was a kid, however, that woulda been unfathomable, as no one I knew would buy a DC comic to save his life... Oh well, my recommendation if you want to see a good Spider-flick? Rent "Eight Legged Freaks"... Nuff said
*with this review, and all upcoming reviews, you'll also be able to check 'em out now at www.mediocrenewyork.com....