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.
Usually I count the days in anticipation for the release of the latest Coen Bros’ film but since their first remake, Ladykillers, didn’t kill, this time around I was a bit dubious after seeing True Grit‘s too revealing trailer and cliche “wanted” font poster. But as it began I was immediately drawn in by the precocious 14yr old girl, Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) and her no nonsense determination to catch her Father’s killer to see him hang. But I felt like hanging myself when seeing how the Coen’s staged the typical western town without a speck of grime anywhere, (almost rivaling the Boardwalk Empire set) and DP Deakin’s clean, streaming pools of light.
(Fort Smith, Ark 1878)
The only redeeming aspect of the town scenes was Mattie’s bargaining with town businessman (the scene also read for their open auditions) and her witnessing a brutal yet comical hanging of three men – though local P.C. film critic, J. Hoberman, begs to differ.
“The Coens are still themselves. As one colleague remarked—unprompted—upon leaving the screening where True Grit was previewed for New York critics, “They always do something to make you hate them.” (In my case, the moment happened early on with a gag based on the hanging of a—dare one say—Native American.)”
Hey J, most of John Wayne’s movies portray Indians like shit and far worse, that’s one of the reasons why I’m not a fan of The Searchers. Though he does redeem himself in his review by citing the influence of Night Of The Hunter and it’s fable qualities he’s still more of a pompous douche than I am, I mean just look at his top ten list! From the likes of Alice in Wonderland to Little Red Riding these fables and fairy tales capture the innocence and fears of a young girl’s coming of age and so does Coen Bros. treatment and approach to their western. The Coen’s foray into this genre is not exactly groundbreaking (unlike No Country for Old Men) but they do infuse it with their usual eccentric brand of humor while being faithful more to the novel than Wayne’s version.
The casts’ delivery of dialogue are perfectly paced, Bridges as a drunk washed up sheriff, with insight from The Dude’s, and Matt Damon an overly confident Texas Ranger, like Space Ranger, Buzz Lightyear. The only fault in the film’s casting is the 40 year old Mattie Ross, who appears to look like a 60 year old Agnes Moorehead rather than the young Hailee. I know the western frontier and a snake bite will age you but talk about a country bumpkin!
But this tiny blemish is nothing compared to the sappy soundtrack. Nevertheless the Coens continue their prolific output and again leave me wanting more.
“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”-Shakespeare
So begins Woody Allen’s 5th European set film, You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, narrated by some village idiot and leftover cast. And if that’s not a set up line open to ridicule and interpretation regarding this movie…Yes, I know that ultimately we are all idiots – I mean even Dostoyevsky and Greenday have come to that conclusion, and Tolstoy did say, “The only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.” But how about having a few laughs before we check out, Woody? I mean I love your movies “especially your early funny ones”.
But Stardust Memories was many moons ago, and now we are reduced to a series of minor melodramas based on loosely formed, half-baked ideas with no real resolution. Such as Writer (Josh Brolin) with writer’s block who steals recently dead writers unread manuscript and falls in love with the rear window, lady in red Neighbor (Freida Pinto) or the rehashed tale of a viagra popping Old Man (Anthony Hopkins) who divorces his wife of decades and marries a young bombshell Hooker (Lucy Punch) realizing he’s made a mistake and wants to go back to his wrinkly saggy titted ex-wife (Gemma Jones) who since has resorted to following a quack fortune teller’s advice leaving her miserably married Daughter (Naomi Watts) hopeless who falls in love with her miserably married boss (Antonio Banderas). So much for the “sound and the fury”. Faulkner attributed the title to the decline and death of a traditional upper-class Southern family and whereas Woody to the foibles of a bunch of self-centered neurotic Brits who’s only hope of redemption or salvation at this point is to go to “Jazz Heaven”.