Fassbending. So Much Fassbending.

Potential SPOILERS for the recently released X-Men : First Class


Here is my overall impression of the film.





Hnnnggguuuuuuhhhh.



Here are some of my other thoughts about the film, but with more words.

1. Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy, two of my favourite British men ever, in the same film. It is still rather odd to see them as leading men in a summer blockbuster comic book movie, and part of my brain refuses to accept it. But still. Fassbender. McAvoy. Together. McBendering. Fassavoying. It's too much for a girl to take. Both of them are easily the backbone of the film, and carry the plot and the entire supporting cast effortlessly, while delivering fabulous individual performances and having mad, mad, mad, mad, mad, mad chemistry with each other. Acting-wise, totally solid.



2. Speaking of mad, mad, mad, mad ,mad chemistry, the gay subtext within the Charles Xavier- Erik Lensherr friendship (intentional, according to the screenwriters) stopped being subtext and became plain text about 12 seconds after the title card. Even James McAvoy in an interview expressed mock surprise that the two didn't simply get married by the end. I can attest to the fact that he's not exaggerating; the Erik/Charles slash fiction pretty much writes itself.


You see? I mean sure, there's a winged topless woman in front of them, but they are in bed together. As if the Internet needs any more encouragement than that.



3. The entire thing could have just been Michael Fassbender Wears Nice Suits And Kills Nazis While Speaking Four Languages And Doing Funny Things To My Ladyparts, and I would have been just as happy. Happier, in fact.

4. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the plot was - it wasn't the strongest of storylines but it served its purpose, I suppose. Russians something something CIA something Cuban Missile Crisis something something mutants are DIFFERENT something something January Jones' boobs something. The important thing was that it didn't feel contrived or overly-hammed up, and more importantly, it was a heck of a lot of fun.
But most importantestly (this is now a real word, okay?), Michael Fassbender sexes sexily around the X-mansion, wearing a turtleneck. Of SEX.



5. The women in the movie aren't exactly portrayed in the best light. CIA agent Moira McTaggart is down to her bra and panties within seconds of the audience meeting her (but guys, those were her government-approved stripper club stakeout clothes, they were for WORK dammit), January Jones did nothing but walk around in tight suits with her chest hanging out. The mutant Angel chooses to join the "bad guys" almost as soon as her character is established, which means she had pretty much no lines or any development for the rest of the movie.And then there was that line about why women shouldn't be in the CIA. It's hard to tell if stuff like this was meant to reflect the rampant misogyny of the story's 1960s setting, or if it's just what it is - blatant sexism that's present in nearly all forms of modern media which goes unnoticed so much of the time. But let's forget about all that because here is Michael Fassbender in a suit again.




6. I have not seen a single episode of Mad Men, and therefore cannot comment on January Jones' acting in that show, but holy crap was she completely wooden and uncharismatic and unappealing as Emma Frost. She had a couple of pretty snarky lines that would have worked wonderfully if delivered well, but meh. But that's okay though, because while January Jones was not-acting, Michael Fassbender was providing enough intensity, complexity, vulnerability and charisma to run a nuclear power plant. If you could run a nuclear power plant on intensity, complexity, vulnerability and charisma, that is.


And on top of all that, he was also providing the HOT. Such selfless talent.



7. As Grace pointed out, the so-called villains in this instalment were one-dimensional, paper-thin and completely dispensable. Kevin Bacon's evil ex-Nazi character started off with promise but by the end had been reduced to the cartoonish "let's blow up the world" brand of super villain. His minions fared much much worse - they barely had any lines, and I don't think anyone so much as mentioned Riptide's name.



8. One-note bad guys aside, this film does a great job of fleshing out Magneto's character and origin story (cause let's face it, this is Michael Fassbender's movie and everyone else is there to be pretty wallpaper [except McAvoy, he co-owns this movie. And my heart]). Wait, what? Oh yes, this film does a great job of fleshing out Magneto's character and origin story in a way that made him somehow sympathetic and also not entirely evil/wrong. His Holocaust experiences and the way they shaped his future bitterness, anger, and his vengeful nature did not feel contrived or overdone in the slightest. And where the previous X-Mens seemed fairly contented to leave us with the Professor X = Bald and Good/Magneto = Caped and Bad dynamic, this one gives us more shades of grey, and spade upon spade of sexy.


Fassy darling, you seem to have forgotten your shoes. Don't worry though, I'll help you put them on, so you don't have to stop that intense-staring-into-the-vaguely-off-camera-distance thing you're doing so well there.


9. The focus is placed more on making it a character study of Erik Lensherr and Charles Xavier, and not so much on the flashy CGI or explosions. However, the special effects, when they did show up, were effective and suitably dignified with the proper dosage of badassitude. This scene with the missiles, for instance, was crazy hot.


I don't know how much it had to with the hundreds of phallic weapons dangling in the air right in front of him, or the fact that in this particular scene Michael Fassbender suddenly develops a very prominent Irish accent broad enough to drive several trucks through, but I wanted to bone him so hard at that moment, unflattering helmet or not.

10. I can't think of anything else to say, so here's some more Fassbender. It is a truly great man indeed, who can steal the boiling, frothing oceans of my lust away from James McAvoy.



Sweet Jesus help me.


In conclusion:

Fassbender.

Well okay, in all seriousness, X-Men : First Class, while it has its share of flaws, is a tremendous amount of fun, and in no way a waste of a couple of hours and fourteen bucks. It definitely surpasses it predecessors in terms of quality and storytelling (and hotness) and if any sequels are indeed planned, I for one will be looking forward to them. Also, Fassbender. All fangirl-style objectification aside, the man is a ridiculously good actor, and it's nice to see him (and McAvoy) get some major recognition from the masses, so people can cast him in more movies and I can go sit in dark cinemas and squeal (inwardly) for many years to come.

Excuse me while I just sit here and swoon a thousand times over.

Just a quick afterthought ; another thing that really bugged me was how Charles Xavier had to put two fingers to his temple to let us know every time he was using his mad mutant psychic skillz. Someone needs to come up with a new way for telepaths to do their telepathing, because way to be subtle, Captain Obvious.

After-afterthought : How is it that nobody in Hollywood has cottoned on to the undeniable truth that Fassbender needs to be the next James Bond? Because if he were, I would actually watch one of those damned movies. Many times. In a row. Also someone should appoint me as Head Boss Queen Leader of Hollywood because no one in that town knows what they're doing.

"We Got No Money But We Got Heart". Also, Some Thoughts On The Oscars.

This week marked the first time in my life I wasn't home to watch the Academy Awards, although I woke up for a super early breakfast so I could live stream the red carpet and all the annoying presenters and stuff on my laptop. I have still not seen the full ceremony, so I can't really comment on James Franco's hosting chops. This saddens me, because having James Franco host the Oscars happens to have been a lifelong dream of mine (and by lifelong, I mean two years ago).


The consensus seems to be that he was stoned, or pretty much sucked, or both, and there seems to be an air of general annoyance. I can understand how his ubiquitousness would get on some people's nerves ; the guy has been everywhere. Published a book, had his paintings featured in several art galleries, hosted SNL, got nominated for the Oscars, hosted the Oscars, and established a college course on James Franco, about James Franco, through the medium of James Franco videos, taught by James Franco. So he's either as incredibly talented as his body of work suggests he is, or his head really is that far up his ass, or he's playing some sort of epic meta-joke on us all. Whatever the case, he still looks indecently delicious in a suit.


Yeap. I'd still hit that.

I'm fairly indifferent towards most of the night's big winners, mainly since I have only seen two of the nominated movies. Inception was one that I had been looking forward to for ages, and the whole thing ended up leaving me just a wee bit underwhelmed. Don't get me wrong; I enjoyed it and I still do and I went through that week or so where I hunted down everyone I knew who had already seen it and grabbed them by their shoulders and went all "BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAAANNN??!". I was simply expecting a great deal more, and Inception, while being great and all, just doesn't quite do the job upon repeat viewings.

The Social Network went all opposite on me, though. I was deliberately paying as little attention to it as I possibly could, but then I found out that The Puppydog of My Soul, Andrew Garfield, was going to be in it. So, you know, I had to watch it. It was a very very very pleasant surprise to discover how much I enjoyed watching this film. It's not mindblowingly good or original, and I wouldn't go so far as to call it a generation-defining movie, but it is solid and extremely entertaining.

Things that make The Social Network awesome

1. The dialogue is terrific. It's not the kind of stuff you could go around quoting in daily conversation, but it's pithy and motormouth-paced and completely zinging. Every time one of the characters is done going off on a Harvard-level courtroom rant of PWNage all I want to do is pause the film and give them a standing ovation for a while.

2. Jesse Eisenberg is a freak of talent. Bless him and his Jewfro and his dimples and his whole entire self.

3. Justin Timberlake was nowhere near as bad as I feared he would be.

4. The original score is chilling and understated and deserves every award being thrown at it right now.

5.The whole thing holds your attention without ever getting boring or lagging in pace. No scene feels like filler. I can honestly say I haven't paid so much unconditional attention to a movie in a long time.

6. This guy. I mean the blond one. Not the creeper behind him.


Before seeing the movie I was sort of vaguely aware of a very large blond person being part of the cast, but when Armie Hammer first appeared onscreen I simply had to sit up and go "Why, who is this and why on God's good earth have we not been introduced yet?". I usually never go for blonds but Armie is way too good-looking to be denied.

And the best part? Thanks to the fact that he plays the Winklevoss twins (TWINS, I tell you!) there is double the Armie Hammer in every scene. Two Armies. All the time. I hardly knew which Armie to look at, and it was a wonderful dilemma to have. If you find yourself struggling with this delicious conundrum while watching The Social Network, I would suggest that you just feast your eyes upon whichever Armie happens to have less clothing on in that scene.
You're welcome.

Damn straight there's two Hammers up in here.

Also, his voice is utterly hypnotic. As I have already said elsewhere ; if sex had a sound, it would probably sound like Armie Hammer, because his voice, it is the sex. If I were rich enough, I'd hire Armie Hammer to follow me around campus and read me my lecture notes. My grades would go through the roof, I tell you. And here he is being disgustingly gorgeous at the Oscars with his lovely wife.


Disgusting. It's disgusting how pretty they are.


In other news, I just got back from a lecture on post-modernist and post-structuralist feminism, and while it was tremendously interesting, I have a headache from trying too hard to understand it all. I swear these academic types just sit around smoking pipes and making shit up. Damn them.

In other other news, this is the cutest music video I have seen this year. The song itself is also catchy like woah, and I find myself singing "Do you know this house is falling apart?" to myself everytime I'm going up or down a staircase these days. for some reason.



I just keep repeating the part where they all dance in the basement in neon spandex. Those moves are sick, especially the Frantic Hand Flailing. I think this song may just be my 2011 equivalent of Hockey's Song Away, and that is a bold proclamation indeed.

George A. Romero Tells Us To Fear Our Neighbour, You Guys

So I watched the 2010 remake of George A. Romero's The Crazies last week. Here are some thoughts. Spoilers ahead, just so you know.


1. Timothy Olyphant looks really good in khaki. Really good. Really good. Even the costume department agreed with me to the point where they did not let him wear anything but the khaki for pretty much the entire film. The costume department over at The Crazies clearly know a good thing when they see one.


2. Timothy Olyphant should play small-town sheriffs all the time. There's something so wonderfully natural about the way he takes on the roles of charismatic, dark and tortured men of the Law. This is to the point where his presence alone can make watching a bad movie a riveting experience, simply through the power of a look, or a gesture, or a walk, and The Crazies is no exception. This man is Can't-Take Your-Eyes-Off-Him-able.


3. Timothy Olyphant going around committing righteous murder and shooting stuff? Is never not hot. Never.

4. My existence is empty and meaningless because Timothy Olyphant is not my man and will never come running to save me from :
a. The government
b. The Zombie-But-Not-Really-Zombie Apocalypse
c. Vengeful knife-wielding widows
d. assorted crazy people


Damn my life.
Does someone have the technology to paste my head over Radha Mitchell's? Perhaps with this thing they call Photoshop? It'll look so much better, I tell you.


5. Timothy Olyphant making Sheriff-y phone calls? Hot.

6. Timothy Olyphant getting stabbed in the hand? Hot.

7. Timothy Olyphant saying "Fuck"? Very hot.

8. Timothy Olyphant drinking coffee? Hot.

9. Timothy Olyphant having an Emo Sheriff session on his own front porch while doing manly things like sawing wood and being emotionally distant? Hot.

10. Timothy Olyphant almost getting his testicles incinerated by a runaway bone saw? Hot.


11. "Do you want to give up? If you want to sit here and die, tell me, and I will sit here and die with you". So much potential for cheese in that line, but delievered by Timothy Olyphant it carries an emotional core and several different levels of heartbreakingness. And yes, beyond hot.

Seriously though, The Crazies is one of those rare B-grade horror movies that is actually good.I'd even go so far as to say it probably deserves to be watched just for trying so hard and so sincerely. It has a decent enough plot, some genuine scares, characters you care about, no one goes around doing the stupid things people usually do in horror films (going off alone to investigate a strange sound in a dark room, screaming a lot, walking around in underwear), it has intelligence, solid acting, pretty cinematography, and there is a Timothy Olyphant. And why, no, this post wasn't just an excuse to post pictures of the man. As if.
All in all, a very decent horror flick. If I were to make just one improvement on it...



There we go. Sheriff needs more Stetson.

In other news, I am back at campus for a brand new semester, and back to surviving on the Internet, pop tarts and instant soup sachets. The upside however, is that I did spectacularly well on last semester's finals and somehow made my way on the Dean's list, so there's plenty of academic motivation going on now. The Dean's list, you guys! And a belated Happy New Year, peasants!

He's Some Guy She Met At The Gym With Brad Pitt's Face And Jesus' Abs

There are impulse purchases, and then there are impulse purchases. The kind where you go off to the nearest mall with whatever little is left in your savings account (until the next cheque clears), and your mother has just told you do something mature and responsible with that money, like buy some new slacks and sensible shoes for university, only the minute you walk in Joseph Gordon-Levitt immediately grabs your attention from the top of the DVD rack, all clean-shaven and hot and looking down at his own t-shirt and sort of smirking at all the Zooey Deschanels on it ( like so) and you're all I NEED THIS OBJECT IN MY LIFE and the next thing you know you're standing in line with a bunch of grumpy strangers and their Monday morning groceries, waiting to fork out nearly 60 bucks for a godforsaken movie you probably won't enjoy and could have downloaded for free in about an hour from the comfort of your own computer (probably like everyone else you know who has already seen it) and thinking "Uh oops so no new sensible shoes today then" and after that you buy some iced lemon tea and make the arduous 40-minute walk home with nothing but an umbrella and the soothing balm of impulse-driven retail therapy to ease your suffering.

And you know what? This movie made all of the above pretty much worth while.

Sure, some of the indie-esque quirkiness felt a bit forced but that may be simply because I was having a headache and my parents were sitting around looking bored and I had to skip a lot of the make-out scenes to minimize awkwardness for both parties.

(500) Days Of Summer starts off by telling you what has already happened - sensitive imaginative Tom meets cynical emotionally-stunted Summer. Tom falls in love, Summer sort-of-maybe-doesn't-really but decides to go along for the ride anyway. It's a recipe for an unhappy ending, and it faithfully ends in the disaster it was always meant to be. The conventional structure of the modern romantic comedy is gleefully defenestrated as the rest of the film embarks on a non-chronological journey through the ups and downs of the 500 days of their relationship from Tom's perspective, working all the way up to the post-Summer days where he struggles to put his life back together and get his ass out of bed and bathrobes. It's a fresh, funny and infinitely clever way of telling a story that should have probably been told a million times before if not for the fact that no one ever really wants to hear it.

(500) Days Of Summer also boasts the following ;

1. A terrific soundtrack, including the likes of Regina Spektor, Doves, The Temper Trap and The Smiths.
2. Roughly 30 seconds of an almost-thesis on Belle & Sebastian as well as oodles of Ringo Starr love.
3. A Hall & Oates-fulled dance sequence of post-coital bliss with marching band, smiling strangers in blue and a random animated bird, which will make you all giddy with silly happiness and if it doesn't make you giddy with silly happiness then no big deal, it just means that you are DEAD ON THE INSIDE.
4. Zooey Deschanel.
5. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, his everyman charm, his wonderful range of emotions, his dancing chops, his drunken karaoke, and his fabulous chemistry with Zooey.
6. Conversation that is sharp and smart and pithy and full of pop culture references but also entirely believable and not written for the sake of being quirky and quotable.
7. Zooey Deschanel.
8. A truly remarkable bit where Tom's Expectations and the Reality of his situation are portrayed in split-screen, revealing the very painful real-life outcome of his fantasy of passionately reconciling with Summer.
9. Zooey Deschanel.
10. The power to make you want to have BOTH Zooey Deschanel's and Joseph Gordon-Levitt's babies.




Yes. BOTH THEIR BABIES. And don't even throw words like "biologically" and "anatomically" and "impossible" at me because I will coldly ignore them.

Chris Pine, Beam Me Up. Into Your Pants.

So I'm probably one of the last people on the planet to see your movie, Chris Pine, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually rather good and not at all an embarrassment like so many other films of its ilk tend to be. In fact, I liked it so much I watched it twice in a row. That's how much I liked it, Chris Pine. Here then Chris Pine, is a list of things I enjoyed most about this Star Trek of yours.

1. The visual effects of specialness.
I am sick and tired, Chris Pine, of looking at extremely fake spaceships and phaser guns and whatnot. Sick of it. Although District 9 had much awesomer (albeit totally static) spaceship, the ships in your movie were shinier, prettier and did this turbo-hyperspace-warp-speed thing which was ridiculously bad ass. Also you guys remembered that space is a vacuum. BROWNIE POINTS FOR YOU, Chris Pine, although I'm sure you really had nothing to do with that.


2. The alternate universe timeline
I am not usually a fan of his, since it essentially amounts to cheating in my book. But in retrospect, Chris Pine, it's actually quite a good idea to set new Trek in a totally different timeline, giving yourselves the liberty to literally go where no one has gone before (did I say that right, Chris Pine?) while staying true to the original franchise. Not that I'd know, because I never did watch any of the old Treks, so nothing you and your people do to the new one
is likely to piss me off. Except for the time travel bits. Because I'm sure if I thought about it hard enough, Chris Pine, I'd find at least three major plot holes as well as a bunch of paradoxes relating to the existence of two Spocks in the same timeline. And Chris Pine? I do not appreciate plot holes. But your movie is so pretty in so many ways that I will simply not think such deep, analytical thoughts. Also, J.J Abrams is my new homie. I shall call him J from now on, and he will not protest, Chris Pine.

3. Uncheesy dialogue.
This quite surprised me, since I was expecting tonnes of cringe-worthy action hero lines to spew forth from your perfectly sculpted lips. Sure, the dialogue wasn't dripping with verbose wit or pithy observation but at least it did not make me want to curl up and die inside, the way Avatar did with everyone running around saying "OH SHIT!" all the time and then sticking their hair into trees.

4. Spock
Zachary Quinto makes a great Spock, Chris Pine. All smart and restrained and emotionally repressed and saying "That. Is.Illogical" at everyone. I was somewhat concerned that his turn as a Vulcan would be overshadowed by the Sylar aspect, but was delighted to find not a single trace of that brain-eating psychopath in this film. Well. Maybe a little bit, with the intense staring and all. But he has vindicated my personal belief, Chris Pine, that the very essence of Sylarity is contained within Zachary Quinto's eyebrows of incredible bushiness.


5. The rest of the cast.
There was John Cho with his mad sword fighting skillz, Zoe Saldana with her mad xenolinguist-in-hot-space-miniskirt skillz, Simon Pegg with his mad Scottish brogue skillz, and Anton Yelchin with his mad skillz of pocket-sized adorability. Also, baby Kirk committing a felony to the tune of the Beastie Boys was just too CUTE.


6. You.
That's right, Chris Pine, you. You did a terrific job, coming from someone who knows next to nothing about the series. Your Kirk was just the right amount of cocky, horny, vulnerable and rebellious, and it did not come across as obnoxious fratboy-esque at all. You had terrific chemistry and a real connection with everything you shared a screen with, including the extras, the shiny blinking machines on the enterprise and the ugly furry monster on the Ice Planet. Your comic timing, both verbal and physical, were spot-on as always. And I know this because I once sat through three really lousy movies of the comedic romance genre just because you were in them. And that is what it's all about, Chris Pine. To get straight down to it, I want to have your babies. Because you so pretty, Chris Pine.

Behold :


You look good in blood.

You look good in yellow.



You look good in red.

You look good in black.


You look good in leather.



You look good in blue.

You look good in flesh tones.



You look good in deep contemplation.

You look good in ice.


You look good in chair.

See, Chris Pine? Your devastating beauty, coupled with my brains and undeniable Awesomery, would guarantee a generation of truly formidable progeny. I naturally understand that your new duties as world famous action star probably mean you're a bit too busy for procreation right now, so I am willing to reschedule the creation of our spawn. In the meantime, I insist that the Trek sequel be about eight hours longer and contain more nudity. It is my professional opinion, Chris Pine, that you in particular need not be fully clothed to boss people around on a spaceship.

Yours with possibly undying love (but I can't guarantee anything),
bloody awful poetry

Remember the name, Chris Pine. This is your future BabyMama talking.

Underneath My Being Is A Road That Disappeared

I am not a very outdoorsy person, but watching this movie made me want to kayak down a river, or shoot a moose, or hike through a forest while Eddie Vedder's voice howls over the mountains. But not really, because I don't like dirt. Or moose. Mooses. Meese.


Into The Wild, written and directed by Sean Penn, is based on the book of the same title by Jon Krakauer. It is a non-fictional account of the life and premature death of one Christopher J. McCandless, a fresh graduate of Emory University who ditches a privileged lifestyle and bright prospects (Harvard Law, y'all) in favour of his Great Alaskan Adventure. He abandons all his possessions, gives his life savings away to charity, and hitchhikes across America under the alias "Alexander Supertramp" to live in the Alaskan wilderness, where he eventually dies of starvation. It's a pre-quarter-life existential crisis of Epic Proportions, as Chris struggles to escape 20th century society and the ills he perceives within it; blind conformity, hypocrisy, an irrational obsession with wealth and status, all of which he sees embodied in his own parents.

So Chris ventures into the big bad world armed with nothing more than a healthy dose of misanthropy, a bunch of quotes from famous Russian novelists, an unshakable conviction in his beliefs and a touching faith that nature will provide for his every need. His general cynicism about human relationships is somewhat ironic considering the fact that it is people and their innate goodness that help him get where he needs to go, literally and metaphorically. A kooky, lovely hippie couple and an ex-military man, among others, are the ones (with some help from Tolstoy and Pasternak) who teach him his most valuable lessons, even if Chris takes a tragically long time to comprehend them; that nature is meant to be loved and feared in equal measure, that no man is an island, that "happiness is only real when shared".


Chris's story will not touch everyone who sees and hears it. There are those who will regard it as pathetic as opposed to tragic, pointless rather than profound. My own mother found his conduct baffling. Perhaps being a a parent herself, his actions in disappearing for well over 2 years without ever truly attempting to tell his family where he was seemed to her unbelievably selfish and more than a little insensitive. And I can't entirely disagree with her; his parents were never intentionally cruel despite their huge flaws. They were not portrayed as monstrous villains. On the other hand, Chris's quest to find his place in the world wasn't over-romanticized or loaded with gaudy sentiment. As his sister Carine narrates, there "was something more than anger or rebellion" that drove her brother to do what he did. His Holden Caulfield complex was a product of something beyond plain angst. Sadly, whatever that "something" was, is now known to Chris alone.

Ramblings aside, Into The Wild is a pretty terrific movie. The acting is first-rate (oh Emile), the scenery is breathtaking, and the original soundtrack, largely contributed by Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder, is a thing of pure unadulterated auditory awesomeness. I'm not exactly sure how much or what kind of research went into the making of the book and film. So there's no telling how much of Chris' story, especially on the road and in the wilderness, is truth, how much is unavoidable extrapolation, and how much had to be filled in with mere speculation. And then there's the matter of how you choose to see him. Chris McCandless may have been a ridiculously brave, true young man, an exemplary torch-bearer of individual humanity. He may have been nothing more than a deeply sensitive, troubled kid who decided to run away from issues he couldn't deal with. Others may see him as a pretentious crackpot who died of starvation in a minibus in the middle of Alaska when help was readily available two miles away at a park ranger's station. At the very least, we are given the room to create our own opinions on Chris and his life and death, and for that the filmmakers deserve all sorts of mad props. And heck, I loved it. I had never been more enthralled in my life (actually I probably have, but for the purposes of the present lets pretend I haven't).

I also take this opportunity to induct Emile Hirsch and his Innate Awesomeness as Honorary Members of July's Husband of the Month sidebar thingie. I'm sure Spongebob won't mind sharing. He's all about the love, after all.

Drop That Blonde Thing Clinging On Your Arm, Franco.

Thinky Thoughts And Random Opinionating Regarding The 81st Academy Awards
(Because everyone else is doing it)


1. Robert Downey Jr. looked gooooood! He also says something about his wife being his date for "the rest of this incarnation", which would have sounded impossibly cheesy had anyone else said it, but Robert Downey Jr. isn't anyone else, he is Robert Downey Jr., and because Robert Downey Jr. said it, that line is now Epically Awesome.

2. I am in love with Anne Hathaway and her freakishly huge eyes.

3. Dude. MILEY CYRUS IS EVERYWHERE.

4. Hugh Jackman! He sings! He dances! He Australianizes! He hosts! Yay!

5. Those kids from Slumdog Millionaire were mighty adorable! But Dev Patel was adorablerer. Just look at the LOOK on his face everytime the movie won something. Too precious.

6. I actually really loved the stage and the entire set-up this time around. So much smaller and very crowded together, which gave this sense of warmth and intimacy I never thought we'd feel watching the Oscars.

7. Tina Fey + Steve Martin = Awesomeness of Truly Unexpected Proportions. They should host this shindig every year for the rest of Eternity.

8. Penelope Cruz's acceptance speech was going just fine until she started blathering on about "Art" and how we should all work hard to preserve its integrity. That kinda made me cringe in a massive way.

9. Dude. BEYONCE IS EVERYWHERE.

10. The guy who won Best Original Screenplay for Milk has a really pretty name, really pretty hair, and a really pretty and genuine speech. I am already in love with him, and I haven't even seen his movie yet.

11. The abundance of Coldplay music accompanying at least two of the movie montages made me rather uncomfortable. Coldplay and Oscars don't mix together, man. Despite all the Gwyneth Paltrowing.

12. Heath Ledger. Of course by then everyone and their grandmothers already knew he'd win, but it was still lovely when he did.
13. Oh look. Reese Witherspoon. The 2 regular readers of this blog may remember her as Evil Blonde Byotch Who Stole-eth BAP's Boyfriend.

14. The Judd Apatow Stoner Skit.



I realize this is the kind of thing people are either going to love or detest, but come on. They were trying to smoke the damned Oscar statue! And they were cracking up all over The Reader! And there is no way you could possibly project even an ounce of hatred upon the stonerifically brilliant improvisation of the ABBA song. Too funneh.

15. How awesome was it to watch James Franco watch James Franco suck Sean Penn's face?

16. James Franco couldn't pronounce the title of the German film that won for Best Short Film or something. That made Seth Rogen giggle. Which made James Franco giggle. Which made me giggle.
I mean, The Franco goes to like, 8 universities and maybe has 247 degrees to his name by now, and he's probably read Anna Karenina backwards and forwards about 93 times, and he messed up his pronunciation on the Oscar stage. That just made him waaaay less intimidating. And gorgeouser.

17. The Franco cleans up good. I mean, really good. I mean like, reeeeeeeeeeeally goood.

18. MARRY ME, FRANCO.
( I'm sorry, but after the Judd Apatow Stoner Skit, anything that wasn't a Franco pretty much ceased to exist in my mind).

19. I hereby nominate James Franco as host of the Academy Awards for the rest of Eternity. Amen. And Seth Rogen should feel free to tag alongeth.

20. This new gig they have going on, where past winners come out and speechify about the present nominees was okay, I guees, but likely to get over dramatic after a while. Not much of a fan of this, me.

21. Robert Pattinson is creepy as heck. Did you see those faces he was making as he presented the video montage thing? And while he was sitting behind Mickey Rourke? Goodness.It's lucky the dude has divine hair.

22. Kate Winslet won Best Actress, which was Awesome (and so is her dad!). Danny Boyle won Best Director and literally jumped around for a bit, which was also Awesome. Sean Penn won Best Actor and talked a bit about human rights and Important Stuff in his speech, which was nice, but all I was doing was waiting for him to mention James Franco so the cameras would have an excuse to cut to a shot of the dude. Never happened. Didn't mention Teh Franco once. BOO you, Penn. BOO. You already have like, a gajibillion Oscars. Would it have killed you to indulge me a bit?

23. Oh and also, everybody cried when Heath Ledger won. Everybody. Every. Body. I'm a bit suspicious though, because they're all such great actors, y'know?


And Franco, I saw you on the red carpet. I did. You had something blond and skinny hanging off your very cerebral and intellectual arm. I shall be needing you to drop said blond skinny thing and come running in this direction with as many Tolstoys and Nobokovs as you can carry. Please, thank you, and amen.



Just a random black and white shot, people. That just happens to maybe possibly apparently have a James Franco in it.

You've All Missed Me Beyond Comprehension, I Know

So here. Have a double-barrelled post (even though the Cardinal Rule of Blogging - I forget who told me that - is to have only one subject per entry. Pfft)


Grammys 2009

The Stuff That Sucked

1. U2's opening performance.
I did not get this at all. I mean, in all seriousness, this was BAD. A lousy song to start with, and Bono prancing around, reminding us all that he is, in fact, God. Also the lyrics weren't all that inspired or catchy for them to be featured on a big screen behind Bono's still rapidly expanding noggin. Blah. And I woke up at 8 in the morning for this.

2. Katy Perry , and by association also the Banana Elevator
Is that the only form of humour this woman knows? The phallic-saturated kind? It was never funny to begin with and still isn't. I thought it would be impossible for her to get on my nerves any more than she already has, but how wrong was I? I wish she'd stop bending over (literally) to convince us of her so-called quirky, oddball, booger-picking , shameless sexual-innuendo-ing brand of extremely-not-funny-ness. That Banana Elevator had better make itself useful and like, kill her to death one of these days.

3. The whole awards ceremony was three and a half hours long and barely 10 trophies were actually given out during showtime. But I suppose I really shouldn't be whining. I have watched the Grammys before, after all.

4. Lame jokes that nobody laughed at.
Now those were painful. Justin Timberlake's "General Store" joke made me want to crawl under the coffee table and rot, it was that bad. Gosh they have some sucky writers over at Grammyland.

5. Miley Cyrus
She's everywhere.
I cannot stand it.

Stuff That Rocked

This. Because two-fifths of Radiohead + some random marching band = Awesomeness of mind-boggling proportions.



And that is how you boogie, Thom Yorke-style. Take notes, you undeserving peasants.

Gawsh. Jonny's hair is so Pretty. I want to touch it. So bad.

Random Uncategorizables

1. Coldplay's jackets made my eyes hurt, and not in a good way.
2. Although, at least Chris Martin's "We're limestone rock" quip was rather cute.
3. M.I.A got robbed! They should have let her sing the whole song, man.
4. Adele was making eyes at the Jonas Brothers during her acceptance speech, and I don't quite know what to make of it.
5. It is creepy how much Katy Perry and Zooey Deschanel look like each other. (Sorry, Zooey)
6. The Jonas Bros. have weird guitar-playing faces. I don't know what to make of this either.
7. John Mayer isn't funny anymore. He may be a jerk for life but at least his speeches used to be funny.

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Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

Now, unless you've been living under a rock for the last few months, you'll all know what this is about. An 18 year-old from the slums of Mumbai, Jamal Malik, joins the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and kicks ass until he is arrested and tortured under suspicion of being an epic cheat. Thus begins an alternating-timeline narrative of different chapters from Jamal's childhood and recent past that correspond to every question he has answered correctly on the game show. Because, as the tagline in the trailer says, "every moment of his life is a clue to the answers". Cool shit eh? Oh and naturally there is also a searching- for-lost-true-love storyline in there, which is actually very dominant. Based on the fabulous novel Q&A by Vikas Swarup.

What I Loved About Slumdog Millionaire

1. The soundtrack. Or the score. The whatchamaycallit. The music in this one is spectacular. Not just the obvious doses of Awesome from the incomparable M.I.A, but also and especially the original compositions. A.R Rahman has surpassed himself and kicketh proverbial arse in this department. And you can count on my word because I've had the man's music shoved down my throat by the Parental Units for the last 18 years.

2. Cinematography. I can sort of see why this matters now. There were some mucho wacky shots from practically every angle imaginable and every perspective in existence, even for the simplest of actions, but not in a way that was in excess or gave you a headache or anything. It just made regular stuff like running look like something new and magical that you've never tried before. And there was plenty of motion in this one. Fast motion, slow motion, reverse motion, downwards-looking-upwards motion, upwards-looking-downwards motion, but hardly ever no motion.
Or maybe Twilight was so crap that everything else looks good in comparison?
Meh.

3. Dev Patel. Such a blank , straight-faced dork! He was on Ellen just a few hours ago, and I was constantly Aww-ing at his sweet dorkyness. Of course, he's British, so he's more of a verbose, impressive-sounding dork, if there is such a thing. It matters not, though, for my brand of dork-love discriminates not.

4. They used Sigur ros in the trailer, and did not bastardize the song. One sure way to win my heart, that.

5. Subtitles! According to imdb only 25% of the movie's dialogue is in Hindi, but hey. I love them subtitles. They make me feel smart. Oddly.

6. The child actors who play Jamal, his lady love Latika and Jamal's brother Salim, at different stages in childhood and adolescence. Some of these kids were actually handpicked from the very slums this movie depicts,and for them to pull of such amazing performances is monumental indeed. Also, they are simply too adorable for words.

7. The little Bollywood song-and-dance number at the end credits. Too cute, people. Too. Cute.

What I Didn't Love About Slumdog Millionaire

1. Some scenes would have been way more powerful, with greater emotional impact, had the dialogue been in Hindi. In fact I sort of wish the whole thing was in Hindi. It would have seemed more natural, for one thing. But hey, the director's a Brit, and it was clearly made with a Western audience in mind. So I'm not really complaining, because it could have been a whole lot worse.

2. This is not exactly the movie's fault, but having read the book beforehand, I couldn't help but feel more than a little underwhelmed by the film itself. For one thing, it is my tendency to nitpick over details (like the fact that Salim isn't actually Jamal's brother, or that Latika is in fact two different characters rolled into one, or that Jamal's actual intentions in the novel were geared more towards murderous revenge than tender loving sentimentality, or the fact that his name isn't even supposed to be Jamal), and I also blame my imagination a bit. Sometimes it's just too vivid for its own good, and when certain scenes in the film didn't match what I had envisioned for myself in my head, it elicited nothing more than a "Blah" reaction from me. I didn't quite like what Danny Boyle chose to leave out, or add on, to ignore completely. And once, again, not the movie's fault.

The Verdict

10 Oscar nominations does seem like a bit too much, to be perfectly honest. It's not really the best movie I've seen, nor is it a "feel-good flick" in any sense, not when it contains some of the most disturbing scenes you'll ever witness on celluloid. Neither is it the kind of movie you'll be wanting to watch over and over again (not without a month's interval between each viewing) because it does get exhausting after a while. But it did give me some major warm fuzzies and sentimental blathering, and I can't quite explain it but there's just something about Slumdog Millionaire, much like Jamal himself, that gives you this insane urge to want to root for it, no matter what. Part of it is the appeal of the underdog, obviously, but there is also an intangible something else that this flick has got going for it. It's just so intensely root-able. All in all, definitely a movie you have to watch at least once, and you will end up either worshipping the ground it walks upon or hating its guts. Because I have yet to come across anyone who is even remotely neutral about it.

You're Like My Own Personal Brand Of Heroin. Or Not.

Two Twilight posts in less than two months seems like a bit much here, but like all painful inconveniences it's much better to get it over with as quickly as possible. Like having your eyebrows threaded. That hurts. The Bloody Awful Poet laughs at the people who complain about the pain of waxing. She laughs at them.
Rob Pattinson could use some nice traditional Indian threading on the eyebrows as well, come to think of it.
But the BAP digresses. (It's really quite addictive, this business of referring to yourself in the third person).


I have made absolutely no secret about my opinions on Twilight, the novel. It's nice light and somewhat addictive fluff, but apart from that it's utter manure. And I only say that because you've caught me in a good mood and I just thought I'd lay off the expletives for a bit. It's like those sherbet orange sweet things, or keropok (Google it, you Westerners); they taste sort of nice at first, and you know they're bad for you and so you stuff your cake hole full of it, and you keep absent-mindedly chewing and swallowing and popping more into your aforementioned cakehole until a couple of hours later your mouth's all dry and you're thirsty and your gums are all scraped and you wonder why you bothered.
It's like that, Twilight. Instant gratification.

The Good

1. Twilight the movie is NOT Twilight the novel. Therefore we are spared from the inner workings of Bella's disgustingly pathetic mind, her sickening worshipping thoughts about Edward, and so we are given license to actually maybe like her a bit. And I sort of have a bit of a girl crush on Kristen Stewart. It's all The Messengers' fault. Maybe I'll be as composed and hard-assed as her one day.

2. Plot. Not that the movie is any huge improvement or anything. Because it's not. But I at least give the screenwriters some props for introducing the bad guys to us viewers from almost the very beginning, instead of having them pop out of the blue on some random page, like they did in the book. It at least served to give us some tension and break up the Bella-Edward bits, so the whole thing didn't feel like one long-ass show about a couple of hot kids on a date.

3. The Pretty. Behold.


Pretty.



Pretty.

Pretty.


Pretty.

Pretty.
And I'm talking about the car.
Seriously. Even the cars in this movie are hot.



There. See? If there's one thing you can always count on in The Journey Of Life, it's that Twilight will never fail to deliver in the eye candy department.Ever.

The Not-so Good.

Fangirls. I know I'm not one to talk, but the fangirls at the cinema scared me. I am aware that it's not the fault of the movie and that it is merely OH SCREW IT it's all Twilight's fault. I had never seen so many teenage girls congregate in one enclosed indoor space at a particular time, except for school. I was not prepared for the non-stop cheering, giggling and squealing. Nor was I ready for the magnitude of the longing sighs every time Rob Pattinson appeared onscreen, which pretty much ensured a constant warm breeze in theatre 5 the whole two hours we were there. You could smell the estrogen in that room. You could cut through the estrogen in that room with a knife. The estrogen in that room could have turned Dean Winchester gay. And when Rob Pattinson ( may your superior DNA be damned!) showed up in the final scenes wearing a black suit, like so...

I'm quite certain I heard the sound of several dozen ovaries exploding.
It sounds oddly like popcorn being crunched. But there's a very subtle difference. You can trust me on that one.

The Downright Ugly

1.The makeup. Was awful.
I understand that they're vampires and are meant to be pale and icky and all, but the makeup was so obviously....makeup. The first thought that enters your head when you see Edward (or any other member of his Gorgeous family) isn't a breathless "F&%$ he's/she's beautiful" but more like a breathless and somewhat disbelieving "OMG OMG POWDER". And that really isn't the kind of effect you would probably want viewers to have, not after all those hundreds of pages in the books, describing to a tee -and quite nauseatingly,as well- about the blood-sucking freaks' stunning physical endowments. So I BOO at Twilight's makeup department.
BOO!


2. Editing. I don't think I have ever had a bone to pick with a movie's editing before, but Twilight's editing does suck to high heavens. And I'm not alone in saying so. Some of the scenes are cut-and-paste in such a weird, erratic way, almost with no regard to timing or sequence, that it leaves you feeling just slightly bewildered for most of the film. I'm not entirely sure how to explain this, not being a film critic or anything, but you'll know it when you see it. I like to call it the Bella-Was-Here-And-Now-She's-There-And-Not-Here-Anymore-And-We're-Not-Quite-Sure-How-It-Happened-But-Hey-Look-She's-Talking-To-Edward-And-He's-Hot-So-Let's-Just-Watch-Him-And-Not-Think Phenomenon.

3.The dialogue (and the acting, too, I guess) or rather, the way it was delivered. Especially between the two leads, Rob and Kristen. Their lines were exchanged with an almost stiff, formal uncomfortability for most of the film, and it was so painfully unnatural (especially the hospital scene at the beginning, which irked me beyond belief) I wanted to throw something at the bleeding screen. It was almost as though the two of them had never seen or heard two people have a conversation before. The stresses were all wrong, the pauses were too lengthy, the eye contact was terrible, the "uhmms" and"errs" were waaay too deliberate.And don't even get me started on Bella's phone calls to her mother. Goodness. I blame the editing team for that, partially. And Robert Pattinson (bless his soul, because I really do like the guy) gawked and stared and looked so terrified a lot of the time that it really really wasn't sexy anymore. Making Edward gawk, even to me, is something of a travesty.

4. Twilight the movie may not be Twilight the novel, but it's still Twilight.
Which means the same characters. The same story. The same dialogue, a lot of the time. The same ridiculous glittering vampires. And I mean it, literally. The vampires in Twilight glitter. I can never get over the stupidity of that concept. The same things I hated in the book translated to a giant screen.
And I had to pay for my own ticket.

5. I had to pay for my own ticket.

The Flipside.

1. You get to ogle at a LOT of Pretty. And I got a free Coke. It's all about appreciating the little things.

2. And a bunch of kids on Youtube may just decide to film an awesometastic four-minute spoof of Twilight (which I would have gladly paid to watch in a cinema). Like this;




I'm not a big fan of the slapstick genre of humour, but that crashing into the screen door thing cracks me up like the shyzz.

The Magnificent Movie Meme

I am swiping this from the awesome Beckeye's blog and tagging myself. As usual.

1. One that made you laugh.
--Shaun of the Dead (2004)

I'm not usually one for zombie flicks, but this was the one I simply could not say no to. A movie that describes itself as a rom-zom (romantic zomedy) is just begging for me to watch it. The girl-in-the-garden-scene makes me crack up even when I'm only thinking about it and let's not even start with the "Kill the Queen!", which is one of the most quotable movie lines I have ever had the good fortune to be able to utilize. Simon Pegg is a freaking comic genius, and if the whole I'm-waiting-for-Jake thing doesn't work out, Mr.Pegg would not be an unworthy substitute.


2. One that made you cry
--The Fox and the Hound(1981)

I cried buckets watching this as a seven year old, and ten years later a simple story of a hunting dog and a fox, two friends that had no clue that they were supposed to be enemies and well, essentially kill each other, still has the power to get me all massively choked up. This beats most other Disney flicks ( with the obvious exception of The Lion King -nobody defies Simba, I tell you) in terms of simple storytelling and the subtle but oh-so-difficult art of making you care about the characters, everybody from the baby fox to the grumpy old farmer. This flick, however, is not one that I make a habit of watching too often. It gets really painful having a lump in your throat for two hours straight. I sometimes think I'm a bit of a mean old beeyotch; I never cry when they show us all the starving African children on American Idol Gives Back, and there have been only five episodes of Oprah that made me choke up and my eyes go all blurry with tears ( most notably Elie Wiesel's return to Auscwhitz and that one time I was really really hungry and Oprah gave the entire audience chocolate cake or pork pie or something. Man was I pissed then) but a movie or a song or a book can move me so much I can pretty much break down in sobs - but only when I'm alone, of course. And yes, I cried when Dumbledore died. Sue me. The Fox and the Hound, a beautifully crafted movie, and very much criminally underrated.

3. One movie you loved when you were a child.
--Babe(1995)

Nobody quite does the talking animal shindig anywhere near as well as 1995s Babe these days. Have you seen this movie? It's awesome. The movement and mannerisms of the dogs and the ducks and pigs..man, it was like they were actually acting. And maybe at the time I didn't realize that some elements were pretty gory and violent, and still not entirely meant to be a children's movie. But what the heck. It's a sweet story, with just enough melodrama, funny as hell, smart, witty and it has a message, just not a preachy holier-than-thou type message.
This is one brilliant movie, and any turdhead planning to make a live-action talking animal flick had better take some lessons from Babe first.

4. One you've seen more than once.

--Mean Creek(2004) and Jarhead(2005)
I'm going to have to make this a tie, because I've seen a lot of movies more than once, but Mean Creek and Jarhead are probably the only few that fall into the More Than 10 Times category. I kid you not. I have already reviewed Mean Creek, and I could keep telling you about what a terrific and superbly crafted flick it is, but I won't, because you should just go watch it, right now, before you die. Jarhead, on the other hand, in addition to being a wonderfully scripted and brilliantly acted piece of art, also features Jake Gyllenhaal dancing naked with nothing but a Santa hat on his boy-parts. Needless to say, I have never been able to look at another Santa hat without smirking. Ever again. But in all seriousness, Jarhead is a great movie. It's not political in the least, despite being about war. The soldiers' political leanings are irrelevant to the story. As on character says, "It's happening, we're here. All the rest is bullshit". I'm still pretty adamant about the fact that Jacob should have received a best actor Oscar nomination for this one. It's quite a hardcore performance, naked Santa dance excluded.

5. One you loved but were embarrassed to admit it.
--House of Wax(2005)
I'm not really embarrassed to say I enjoyed this one immensely. It's a stupid movie, with a stupid premise, stupid story, a stupid villain, stupid acting and a stupid conclusion. How can an entire house be made of wax and not melt? It's not in Canada, you know. How can one realistically expect Chad Micheal Murray to be hot? In any way? Are the sudden loud sounds and heavy breathing supposed to scare us? I was just happy to see Paris Hilton get impaled to death. I'd have liked it even more if they had cast Jensen Ackles in it, and made him die. With his shirt off.

6. One you hated.
-27 Dresses (2008)

This movie sucked so much I turned it off after 45 minutes and I have never seen the rest of it. I don't need to sit through to the ending to know that it will just keep sucking all the way to the closing credits. Do yourselves a favour. Don't watch this. Be good to your soul. Go watch Jake's Santa boogie.

7. One that scared you
--The Sixth Sense (1999)

It didn't scare me in the way most Hollywood flicks attempt to terrify their viewers; with loud music, sudden noises, lots of screaming, puddles of blood and disemboweled guts. It just made you feel really really uncomfortable, made your toes go chilly for some reason, made you look over your shoulder a few times, twiddle your fingers a bit nervously and when the twist in the ending clunked you on the head you just sat there, trying to get yourself on the same intellectual level as M.Night Syamalan and figure out what in the name of Haley Joel Osment just happened. (How did Bruce Willis die?? How?? You never showed him dying, dammit!) It's a pity the Syamalan has never quite come close to what made The Sixth Sense so awesome in any of his later movies.

8. One that bored you
--America's Sweethearts (2001)

Not even the adorableness of John Cusack could redeem this movie in my eyes. And it made me hate Catherine Zeta-Jones.
I'm hungry.


9. One that made you happy.
--Little Miss Sunshine (2006)

Forget the argument of whether or not its Oscar-worthy. Consider only the fact that the yellow van makes me feel all warm and fuzzy every time I see it. Not to mention the lovely soundtrack by Devotchka and the utterly fab cast of characters. It all left me with a massive grin on my face for the rest of the day.

10. One that made you miserable
--Brokeback Mountain(2005)

I have also already reviewed this. Let's just say it's a pretty goshdarned miserable flick, but I really wouldn't have it any other way. The worst part is that you know from the very beginning that Jack and Ennis would never be together. That was the entire point of the story, that their love would never have a home, that they'd have to move on without each other despite knowing full well that there is no other person they'd ever need. Also it kinda pissed me off that Jake's character had to die, but then I watched Ennis(Heath Ledger) go into Jack's childhood bedroom and go through his old stuff so tenderly and then I saw the two blood-stained shirts wrapped up in each other and then I started going all dammit-Ang Lee-stop-trying-to-reduce-me-into-an-incomprehensible-blubbering-idiot. The scene in the tent on the second night was also pretty awfully tear-jerking, and many many props go to both Heath and Jake for making that moment ever bit as gentle and tender and full of lurve as any scene in any other movie between a man and a woman. But what made it all the more worse-er was when the closing credits rolled and Willie Nelson started drawling "He was a friend of mine/He died on the road/He was a friend of mine". That painful throat-lumping just had to start again, didn't it?

11. One movie you weren't brave enough to see
--Ben Hur(1959)
I've seen bits and pieces of it as a kid, but that movie is just so effing long I doubt I'll be taking the VCD out any time soon.

12. One movie character you've fallen in love with
I could say any character Jake has ever played. But I'll be good and say David Posner of the History Boys. I've already raved over him too much, so let's just say that if he weren't gay, I'd so totally marry him.

13. The last movie you saw
In the cinema, it was the Dark Knight, and I don't need to tell you how awesome it was. The other night I re-watched Gattaca on HBO. Ethan Hawke was hot, and I miss those days when Jude Law wasn't an annoying asshole yet.

14. The next movie you hope to see.
Well, initially it was Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, but since the old wrinkly men at Warner Bros have seen fit to delay the release date by almost a year, I suppose I'll settle for the next Big Thing in fantasy, Twilight, which looks bound to be absolutely awful. Bring it on.