Tag Archives: george clooney

Gravity’s Rainbow

gravity

“Space is the place, in your face” – Sun Ra

Let’s face facts – it’s been a very dismal summer for movies, which partially explains my absence from blogging. I’d like to say that I was going through my Binx Bolling phase or that I was in a state of dissociative fugue. Truth is, I was seriously considering giving up the ghost. But Gravity has brought me back down to cyber space and happy to report that the only thing I can hold against this amazing movie is that initially Alfonso Cuaron had wanted to cast bumptious Angelina Jolie and Robert Downey Jr.

Though at first I was up in the air about Sandra Bullock, considering her most dramatic oscar driven role was The Blind Side (which I will never fucking see), but I haven’t been so intensely engaged in the plight of a woman astronaut since Lisa Nowak drove 900 miles like a bat out of hell in diapers. Of course there was never a doubt George Clooney wouldn’t be cool.

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gravity

The reason why I can’t rate this 100% is because 2001: A Space Odyssey is still the ultimate space sci-fi. Especially when dealing with the whole rebirth theme, where at times in Gravity was more suffocating than Sandra’s lack of oxygen – as Kubrick dealt more abstractly and cosmically. I do admit Sandra looked fit in her undies all curled up in a fetal position and when she was crawling out of the water to dry land like bipedal fish.

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But nothing compares to the heavy handed CGI frog, except maybe Malick’s dinos, I suppose both representing the symmetry of human struggle for life. Tree of Life not so coincidently Emmanuel Lubezki also shot, but this time around, along with visual effects supervisor Tim Webber, they were able to deliver something so innovative it actually convinced me 3D IMAX is not a total sham after all. Even that cunt, Rex Reed, had something nice to say for a change.

METER

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Black to the Future

Summer is officially here and with that comes the onslaught of the proverbial sequels and wannabe blockbusters to spawn next year’s sequels. And sadly Men In Black 3 falls victim to the genre of the wasted chapters and money (both theirs and yours).

Maybe I’m being cynical (as usual) and the Filmmakers actually had noble intentions with the fortune that Josh Brolin is a dead ringer for playing the young Tommy Lee Jones. Given that – all they had to do is concoct some silly time travel motif to send Kay back to the summer of 1969 as Brolin! Coinciding it with the first Apollo mission and the spacey Warhol Factory, a little civil rights comic relief, a Stones song and a hippy or two, you will find yourself in a $200 million budget movie.

But as we all know, the notion of good intentions in Hollywood is a misnomer. Just look at all the countless charity balls and galas they hold there for all those limousine liberals in their tax deductible designer clothes while I’m subjected to pay Midtown prices for lunch everyday!  Most recently George Clooney’s fundraising event at his palatial Hollywood home for Obama’s re-election campaign cost his exclusive 150 guests $40K a plate! While in reality they are just perpetuating this Fiat Currency that has enslaved us to the almighty dollar. Sorry, I know I’m just as guilty for greasing the wheels of the big studios by paying these outrageous 3D prices for a movie ticket.

In fact I saw that Wes Anderson movie as well the day after but that’s another blog to read if you can get through this one, so I need to get to the point – Men In Black 3 sucked. I was suckered in by my own silly sentiment of trying to recapture my childhood memories and fondness for the characters of the original 1997 movie. But not only did I realized that I can’t even remember a fucking thing about the second MIB, I also see that I haven’t really matured much since then AND that it’s just the filmmakers such as Barry Sonnenfeld and Co. that just got more retarded. If you don’t believe me wait to you see how this movie ends – not with one small step for Man but one giant leap fucking backwards for Mankind.

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National Lampoon’s The American Vacation

“You’re an American, you think you can escape history. You live for the present.” – The American

The occasions which leave you proud to be an American these days are few and far between. I only wish in this case I could’ve escaped history to forget about the wasted hours on this ho-hum character study of Renaissance Man, George Clooney. Talk about false advertising! Minus one lousy car chase, every action and piece of dialogue is scrunched into this 53 second trailer.

As you see, Assassin, Mr. Butterfly (Clooney), is the target of some other assassins who nearly assassinate him but in turn he assassinates them instead, and then lays low for his last job in a bucolic hillside Italian village to construct a gun for some mysterious woman, Mathilde (Thekla Reuten), who is also planning to assassinate somebody soon. Sounds action packed? But as it turns out Clooney is quite the procrastinator as he seems to kill most of his time doing push/pull ups, competing about his sins with Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli), watching Leone’s “Once Upon A Time In The West”, and fornicating with a local hooker, Clara (Violante Placido).

It’s apparent that Clooney’s reasons to sign on for this script (I can’t imagine anyone reading the 436 page novel from which it’s adapted) was to fondle titties of the hottest snow white looking prostitute and to lounge around Italy in a contemplative mood bordering on pseudo zen mechanics coming off as the wimpiest hit man. I mean Luca Brasi would make a meal out of him and I’m even more intimidated by Mr. Pink, speaking of which, I hope Steve Buscemi don’t pussyfoot around like Clooney in the upcoming Scorsese production of Boardwalk Empire.


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Burn After Review

“Explanations come to an end somewhere.” – Ludwig Josef Johann Wittgenstein (Philosophical Investigation)

 

Despite negative buzz, The Coen Brothers’ 13th movie, Burn After Reading, when compared to their other works may not be considered groundbreaking and original but given the high expectations following No Country for Old Men and the repeat summer comedies of Farrell, Rogen, Stiller, and Jack Black it at least makes you appreciate that there are still real filmmakers out there. This time around they add DC to their list of cities to expose where we find new quirky characters plotting and scheming with reckless and random abandonment. From the opening overhead shot zooming thru the clouds (accompanied by the usual mission impossible type soundtrack) and into the secret insipid interior of CIA headquarters we are instantly thrown into this spy movie spoof black comedy. There we are introduced to agent Osborne Cox (John Malkovich) and his superiors in the act of firing him for his drinking problem. We then follow his plight into the paranoiac espionage nature of DC and it’s scandal ridden sexual infidelities only to clash with bimbo Hardbodies employees, Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand) and Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt) when they accidently obtain a disk of Cox that was “just lying on the floor” in the women’s locker room and their subsequent involvement in blackmailing him to pay for Linda’s numerous cosmetic surgeries and liposuction. To add to these blackmailing amateurs, Cox’s marriage is falling apart as his wife, Katie Cox (Tilda Swinton), unbeknownst to him is having divorce papers drawn up and an affair with a married man, Harry Pfarrer (George Clooney), who is a compulsive womanizer and sex toy inventor hobbyist and is also dating Linda. How the Russians get involved in this post Cold War circus is attributed by Osbornes’s disc which is what every spy thriller needs, the MacGuffin.

While the movie was marketed for it’s star studded cast, this cast proves to be more than just good looks. George Clooney caps off his Coen Brothers trilogy of playing an idiot with his boyish bravado of seducing women while Botox Brad and Frances, who literally lets it all hang out, pair up as a comic duo. But it is the meeting of the minds of Pitt and Malkovich that truly reveal the absurdity and comedy of this plot while Tilda Anteater Face continues to play the ultimate cold, stuck up bitch.

In the end, the Coen Brother’s have again succeeded in fighting the idiots we’ve been fighting our whole lives as they join the top of the box office along side these hollywood blockbusters that are consistently praised by retards.

 

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