A Review: The Bourne Legacy

"Who the hell is he?!"

Yes. Just who in the hell is Aaron Cross? Why is he a white man, with medium build, short brown hair and hard stare? Because this is America, we're assholes and these are our heroes? An international agency with global operatives and this is the best we can come up with to separate ourselves from Jason Bourne? And why is he towing around a white brunette who looks scared and needs saving again? (Sans Euro-accent, points for that) Why, did the man who crafted the scripts for first three films, feel the need to keep the two new leads so close to the formula of the original trilogy?

Why not Idris Elba and Penelope Cruiz? Or Adrien Brody and Kerry Washington? Joseph Gordan-Levitt and Kate Mara or a Christina Hendricks type? (Reaching, maybe, but it's not entirely stupid) Just, totally new and fresh faces, anyone else but these two--as great a pair of performers as they are with film legacies and history behind them set. And that's not the point of these opening paragraphs either. Their fine, but not for material that needs distance from it's predecessor literally in need of a face-lift.

Lord knows after Clayton, Gilory has his pick of actors. How do you think he got Edward Norton and Rachel Weisz in this picture?

A Review: Total Recall

"Look at you. . . You're still fighting and you don't even know who you are!"

In this future, at the ass-end of the 21st century, robotic police officers that resemble Slim-Fast versions of Storm Troopers mixed with legitimate human cops patrol the streets. Cars can sorta fly. Almost everything electronic is now glass touch screen. Young adults are still punks. Cell phones can be secretly implanted (and painfully extracted) in your hand.

And an elevator (with small scientific theory and history behind it) cuts through the earth, zips around the core to the other side. It heads to either (you guessed it) Great Britain, 1 of 2 remaining habitable parts of earth along with the other: Australia a.k.a The Colony.

The Colony resembles a slum of Asian-likeness. I found out later that was little bit on purpose and not me simply drawing semi-racist juxtapositions in my so-called-mind. Living space is shrinking in the two land masses. Things are getting tight, literally and figuratively for people. The colony is a crapland of slum and "United Federation of Britain" is a great place to live and work. But not for the blue collars and foreigners apparently. Okay.

A Review: First Knight

Movies like this are ungodly annoying because they throw the word of "Love" around like bread crumbs at the birds. All, willy, and yes, nilly, too. Which is offensive to the word and anyone who's had intimate relations with it. Movie or not, this material takes itself very seriously. So I will, in turn, do the same.

There is no foundation, weight, or  responsibility to the meanings, or the tutelage and right of passage to get the heart in meaning of the word. The movie only gives us a nebulous definition and I don't feel anyone feels it's true meaning. Only that it means a great deal. And having known this word myself, and been to the ends of the earth and beyond in it, I can say First Knight knows no true love. But only the idea of it.

A Review: Monsters

"I guess that's what they mean by 'Infected Zone'."

I've said before that it takes a lot to scare me, and more so than that, most horror movies will bring me a giggle quicker than a startle.

With that being said, I wouldn't presume to call Monsters a film that intends to scare, or provoke fear. I'll say the provocation of sense of wonder, awe, and misunderstanding in the film about said monsters is more prominent than anything else. Including the images Edwards gives us (doubling as cinematographer).

The Mexican landscapes almost like tapestries before our eyes.

A Review: The Fugitive Kind

         "There's another kind."
             "What kind?"
             "It's a kind that don't belong to no place at all."

Tennessee Williams is a guarantee for the much more dramatic, enlightening and heightening sort of fair. In The Fugitive Kind we're given a film that is not about happy, bright people. Optimism is not a daily practice for most of the characters we meet, but not all of them. And maybe they don't even want to be happy. Their stuck. They have deep-seated issues of shame, guilt, loneliness, infidelity, bleak self-direction and unfair lives considering what they've paid into life so far. Some, not so much of a pension considering their life credits.

A Review: Signs

"I think God did it. . ."

Every year for the past six, on the 23rd of August I watch this film. I chose this particular day because it is the day of birth for a very dear old friend of mine. She and I no longer speak, but that has only been a recent thing. Secretly, to honor her and our friendship, years ago I began watching this in a commemorative fashion of her, first time meeting each other, first hug, first laugh, everything since then, all the great years spent. Silly to you maybe, but call me a nostalgic old soul.

The years have gone by and still I dive into this film. Enjoying the saturation in the thrill, the wonder, the drama, and the dread each and every time.

A Review: Sabrina

"It's all in the family."

                                         --Linus Larrabee

With the stars out, she sits at her desk draped in a silk robe and writing a letter to her father about her two years spent in France. Her hair is short and cropped freshly. The night sky's wind carries La Vie En Rose from a French accordion player through her patio double-doors (or french doors) left wide open. Her back to the picturesque view. She has a smile on her face of quaint peace, and she feels at home with herself. She's excited about the world.

Meet Sabrina Fairchild.

A Review: Eden Lake

"How now brown cow?!"

I suppose the new trend of horror, or, the old trend, or, the smarter tend (does it matter?) is that the movie ends in ways you didn't expect. Or, it does so in ways that don't serve the purpose of triumph for certain characters. I won't say if this one does or does not, but I've been noticing as of late, the trend has set itself none the less.

A Review: Wrecked

"Fuck! I'm. . . FUCK!"

We almost think the name of the movie should be called "Goddamnit." It's accurate in regards for his bad luck and situation. Wouldn't be far off from what the title is ultimately suggesting.

The first thing we can see clearly is Adrien Brody's eyelid as it opens to reveal a weathered ball behind the skin. Then the camera shifts to a broken windshield and the dense green foliage beyond it. Eventually he comes fully to and gazes around. Beat to hammered shit would just about some up his appearance. Stuck in the front passenger seat of a car, he's wrecked it in the bottom of a ravine in the woods, some how. And yet he looks as if he doesn't have the slightest how he's there.

The man in the back seat is either unconscious, or, dead. Later, we find out he is not playing possum, and Brody is all alone. The driver is missing, we don't know about anyone else from the backseat. And that's just the beginning of his problems.

A Review: The Descent

"I'm an English teacher not fucking Tomb Raider."

There is a darkness to this movie combined with it's perfect, expansive and finely detailed set construction that adds a certain level of authenticity it deserves. I was happy to feel, at times, like I was in that damn 2-miles deep down cave system with the girls. Director Neil Marshell achieved his desired effect of claustrophobia, insidious pressure and atmospheric strain in his Brit-Horror flick to a good effect.

Sarah, Juno and Beth are whitewater rafting in Scotland, then, boom, Sarah's life comes to a halt. A year later, we see her in North Carolina with Beth and their driving through the Appalachian Mountains for a spelunking trip. Unfortunately there not about to find the Batcave. No, something else lurks down there.

A Review: Kill List

"It's complicated."

Please understand, and do not be confused: this film is horrific. It's true what they say, the genre while arguably a family drama, with flights of crime/suspense ultimately falls under horror. I'll agree with that and say it conceals itself in the former two categories well. Do not be fooled by the first two acts, which go by very curiously and enlarge our interest in where exactly it's heading.

My favorite part was getting through the last thirty or so minutes having not a single clue where it was going. Then arriving at our destination seemingly pulled the from the deep innards of the Bermuda triangle. Boy, was that fun.

Inside the film, there is a regular occurrence of a reverse bell toll and slow, sloshing music in a dark, unyielding tone. It doesn't exactly stop, almost, but when it's not sounding, we feel it's presence has done it's job to give us feelings of dread. Things--as well as you'd think they'd go with two contract professionals--don't exactly go that way. What did you expect? A movie where the hit list is quietly executed and then it's Bob your uncle?

A Review: Bel Ami

"The most important people in Paris are not the men. The most important people in Paris are their wives."

I remember hearing about this project's inception, and the thing that sparked my interested most certainly went in a different direction then all 6 studios who share credit intended. T'was not Twilight star Pattinson, Robert that had my knees weak. But Uma Thurman, Kristin Scott Thomas and Christina Ricci all inside one film, a period-setting, a French aristocratic love drama. There we go. . .

Accomplishing such a unlikely containment of talent is a feat in itself, the likes of which could only be attained through a box office top-billed star the like of which has the crowd draw of Edward Cullen.The sheer spectacle of those three actresses with long standing ties to film was enough for me to watch the trailer in anticipation for the celluloid and then sit through this.

And as it turns out, my instincts lead me to watching a real gem of a film about three wives in Paris, played with delicious fancy by three skilled performers.

A Review: Mother

This film is a delectable delight of an adorable fancy and almost, whimsically dramedic--if I may merge two words--at times.
Balancing flights of mustily dark comedy, police procedural and (at times suspenseful) family drama, Mother is certainly more than the title suggests.

Even the open sequence alone is enough to rope us in tightly with it's capricious nature, and, avant-garde approach almost, dancing along in front of our eyes. We need to find out more about this woman, her story and this film.

A Review: The Woodsman

"I see something in you. Something good. You don't see it yet, but I do."

A regular occurrence of this film, almost like a running gag, is Walter's door, and the people who knock on it.

Every time the door to his apartment gets knocked on, we feel that Walter's patience dwindles by another percentage. Serenity in his solitude is something he initially sets out for.

Solemn grace inside his own walls, not the walls of a prison sentence on a 12 year stretch.

A Review: There Will Be Blood

"I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed. . .  I hate most people."

                                                                                                                                                  --Daniel Plainview

Daniel Plainview has done whatever it took him to get to the top of the oil business, to do deals with others to attain his wealth, success and seclusion. Although I won't say he wasn't an honest, hardworking businessman who took all the (nearly) legal steps to get to where he is by the end. Eventually spending his days shooting his rifle at random objects inside the halls of his mansion.

Drunk, dark, wobbly, and greasy. But alas, this is we feel, the payoff he has been working his whole life for. To do what he wants, inside his own walls, with only himself.

The two scenes that follow that introduction to Old Man Plainview are both, powerful, darkly comic and quite simply an astonishing show of an acting Grandmaster, who essentially, is just not acting anymore.

A Review: I Am Love

"Happy? 'Happy' is a word that makes one sad. . . Why aren't you happy?"

I Am Love. A line taken from the song, "La Mamma Morta" as sung by the legendary Maria Callas, one of my favorite singers. In this beautiful aria from Andrea Chénier,    Maddalena is conveying her feelings and past to Gerard, who vies for her affections. 

She sings to him of her hopes for life, for love, for beauty and grandeur in the world after living sickly and poor through the horrors of the French Revolution. 

Tilda Swinton is directed by Luca Guadagnino (Melissa P.) as a Russian expatriate wed into a wealthy Italian family. It doesn't taker her long to fit in, and acclimatize to her new lifestyle as the wife to a Milano Textile Manufacturers. The grandfather announces at his birthday party his retirement as head of the family company, Recchi. He names his son Tancredi, and grandson Edo, as his replacements. 

From this moment on, the events of the film begin to truly unfold, and that's we're I'll leave it, and only speak cryptically of the things I'll reference.

A Review: We Need To Talk About Kevin

Eva: "You don't look happy." 

Kevin: ". . .Have I ever?"

There is nothing quite like a mother's love. And when the words in the above quote are spoken, the scene in which they are heard reflects the power that specific love contains. Trust me, it's a palpable stench that reaches out and grabs hold of you. Such a brilliant and potent few minutes.

The Bet

A bet between two gentleman, my brother Elliot, and I, has come to it's unavoidable conclusion. I have made my decision today. I have told Elliot which of the two, The Dark Knight, or, The Dark Knight Rises, is the better film overall.

Awesome Bat Symbol

Having been floating around since the third trailer dropped in late April, this here is sublime. Nothing more or less. Only matched by it's subtle nature in the way it can invoke feelings of nostalgia and at the same time create a new well of hope, and faith. This chalk drawn Bat-symbol is the Gothamites calling him back into arms. Wishing for a savior in a man they once respected, and then grew to hate, which in turn, transformed into a great missing.

"A Great Missing"

And the Batcomputer is now mine:

July 19th at Midnight--be there.

Munki Out.

Destino

I was going to try and spin a little song and dance piece about how the loveliness and whimsical spirit of someone is released and brought to life in the beauteous nature of their love of life and art and being in love with love and in love with happiness or just the ideas of said natures and wanting the break free moments of ect, ect, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada, ksajdfn;laskjfh lksf ;lksfja ;lksjadf lkjdsflaj. . .

(Purses lips like a fucking horse.)

But fuck that idea. Dali' does not need my literary drivel for a lead-in.

A True Story

        "I wanna be there with you right now."
        " . . .You are. Wherever I go." 
                                                 --A conversation from long ago.


It was still nearly dark out when he stepped out of the building. Newly freed he was, from the worst place on not just the face of the earth, but anything beneath the crust as well. Right down to the core where burning hot magma and lava and fire and energy surged and stirred.

He finished what was left of his bottle of water, smoked half a cigarette in the parking lot and hoped inside Tron. He drove his noble "program" with all four windows down, taking his hair band out letting his very lengthy strands wave about in the 60 mile an hour wind.

The Zombie--Days And Nights

". . .And I think I'll go for a swim, Since I've already drowned…

And forget breath And Love Pain And, and…

Wrap yourself, warm, warm In the horrible agony Of drowning."
                                                                                                               --Verity Mae


Making the right turn he always made coming out of work to spin around and head home, he spotted the sight he spotted with eagle vision he didn't always get the chance to engage. It was in the road, just lying there, and he saw how recent it looked, gauging maybe an hour and a half old tops.

More Of The Same

"But like anything we try not to think of, as humans, we are very good at doing just the opposite. . ."
                                                                                                                                                                                         --John Bierly

From the driver's seat through the large windshield he could see the sky's weight falling upon itself, the clouds grew dark, darker than they were just minutes before on the road, driving fast, slicing through puddles and putting his A.D.S.C.S. (Automatic-Driver-Stability-Control System) to good use.

But as fast as he drove, he couldn't outrun the rain. Nor did he want to, he loved the rain. Few things in his life gave him the comfort, the warm-blanket feelings of a rainstorm.

Her. It. Him. That. Everything. All. Them. You.

Online state and county mandated driver's safety courses are what he referred to as a "Zero Fun Experience."

It Makes Sense

                  "He's Irish, he can deal with something being wrong the rest of his life. 
                   But it doesn't mean he likes it."
                                                                                    --New Irish Celtic

As he sat in front of his laptop with the external 23 inch monitor plugged into it giving him another screen, he felt the leather of his office chair give him no comfort. Well, a little comfort.
It was St. Patrick's day after all.

Currently

At least these socks are comfortable. Gotta buy new boots, grab a new work knife.

Gotta get another pack of smokes, a 16 oz. of something strong and carbonated. 

Gotta get a haircut, maybe not off, but definitely shorter.

Gotta get a some more breakfast food, including OJ fa sho J.

What's The Difference

In bed that night, he was most definitely awake. He was tossing and turning, groaning and moving, moaning and breathing hard. His muscles, (with practically no fat covering them, laying on top of only his bones) burned and bulged from the rush of blood. As the cool air slipped out from the ceiling vent in the room, the light coat of sweat cooled on him, only build and be cooled again.

. . .Because sex tended to bring that out in him.

Immense

A douchebag of my magnitude could cleanse a whale's vagina.

The Breeze

As the sun shone brightly on his morning he soaked up the soft warmth he received from the ultraviolet rays. In his personal bath of shine a zephyr moved over him and blew over his face.
It was a good morning.
A kind morning. A morning for him.

A Life

Maybe. . . Some day. . .
A life for you
A life for me
A life in a tree he he he he
For if life is short and love is burning then let us be as the world is turning
Together or apart is how we've been
But in the end we both shall win
For what was forged and what was found was not out of sight and not out of sound
Our hearts heard it and our hearts saw it
And brains read it and brains bought it
But. . .
We stand alone and are apart, to remain an ever vigilant work of art.  

The Color of Love

On his side on the universe he sat on a bar stool at his local restaurant and bar where he knew every staff member, cook and even shook the owner's hand on a regular basis. He stared off into the half empty glass of his beer, Yuengling, great stuff. Some days he wouldn't even bother keeping track of which number he was on. Today was one of those.

The Sound of Missing

It was not a question. He was certain of it.
The most romantic way he'd ever been kissed was at night, in the cool Texas air that February. While leaning on her open driver-side door window talking to her inside the white beast, the lady Cop, in mid-sentence she grabbed his shirt collar, yanked him to her face and thrust her lips onto his. And he was kissed hard and he was kissed well. And just before they connected, he caught her playful grin. . .

Because she asked me to

A heart can guide to the stars.

In the wind, no one can hear you thoughts.

But the wind can take them with it.

I feel my skin. I feel the years.

I feel the time. I feel the history.

Run my fingers through my hair and know what it feels like.

Silk. Tender.

I see the trees and hear the noise.

The wind as it whistles through the branches and passed the leaves.

I hear my friends. Their laughter and their stories.

Where am I?

A heart can uplift to the silver lining.

I feel the water on my skin, steaming and stimulating the atmosphere.

I hear the music, through my ears, and sticking to my brain.

I listen to it's touch and it's voice.

It fills me up and gives me hope.

It gives me blood and I drink from it's wine.

My muse?

I feel the sun upon my skin and see it's rays of light.

They brake through the trees and force passed the branches.

The heat fills the morning. The dew on the grass glistens in the light.

The grass shines like platinum.

It's dark at first.

But then it's warm.

A heart can make the skin seem hotter.

But then it's wet.

But then there's rushing.

There's breath.

And there's fire.

A heart makes the world seem richer.

A woman's smile can birth another.

I look around and know the world, I know there is more.

My heart is filling.

My eyes are big.

My body is a sponge.

A heart never fails to liven the body.

I know there is more...

A Review: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

I've just come from an experience that I've saturated myself in once before, and now, "I've gone and done it again. . ." 

A quote from another Fincher film with feelings and atmosphere this one borrowed from the self-assured, camera and mood savvy director.