Review of The Ides of March

Review of The Ides of March

It takes an arrogant person to name a movie after one of the most famous Shakespeare plays ever. And George Clooney is just the guy to do it.

The title would lead you to believe this was about a betrayal of a friend starring George Clooney as Julius Caesar and Ryan Gosling as Bruté. Only I don’t recall Caesar sleeping with his interns, and if he did, it was probably not as frowned upon in that time period and he probably bragged about it.

Regardless of ill-advised Shakespearian comparisons, this movie went nowhere for an hour. I’m all for character development, really I am. But it’s usually a bad sign once I start to wonder why a movie exists in the first place. I didn’t know if it was supposed to be a political commentary I wasn’t getting or if it was supposed to be wowing us with the peek behind the scenes of a political campaign, but I was having trouble justifying staying up passed 11pm on a Friday to continue watching this. I actually thought maybe it was based on a true story because it was so boring.

Then finally something happened. The girl is pregnant. It’s the governor’s. The assistant campaign guy she’s now sleeping with pays for her abortion. He gets blackmailed about another thing. Something about a delegate happened. He blackmails the governor he works for (so there IS backstabbing!). But for the right reasons. And in the end, it turns out there is no innocence in politics. Close-up of Ryan Gosling. Roll credits. Lesson learned. George Clooney pats himself on the back for just being George Clooney.

The pacing was awkward, I didn’t know what or who I was supposed to be paying attention to, the lesson was cliché and the payoff was not worth the investment. This could have been another Bulworth with a wayward politician with progressive ideals that doesn’t play the political game. There were some good speeches written into the film. But it decided to go the other way and give into blackmail and bribery. And for some reason, it overdramatized these scenes like it was brilliant and the audience wouldn’t see it coming. My wife summed it up once the final credits started when she said “That’s it?” 2 bugs (out of 10)

The Uncovery Discovery

Stuff I did for Class. I'll explain later.

Review of Contagion

Review of Contagion

This long awaited sequel to 12 Monkeys teaches us that if you cheat on your husband, you’ll start a worldwide outbreak of a rare disease that kills 26 million people. So keep your hoo-ha in your skirt, ladies. That’s what Jude Law is really trying to tell us. Also, bats and pigs shouldn’t hang together.

This movie starts out in a hurry. It’s got shit to do. Gwyneth Paltrow contracts the disease, flies back to the U.S., cheats on her husband and dies in the first 7 minutes. And it does not jog in place to let you catch your breath. It just darts straight across the intersection without looking and expects you to keep up. Matt Damon plays the husband and step-father and the movie cuts back and forth between the effects this outbreak has on the family and the global impact of it. Every scene introduces another big-time actor and had some issues trying to give them all screen time, as evident by the fact that Marion Cotillard was in the movie for less than 6 minutes.

In addition to Gwyneth, Matt, Jude and Marion, Lawrence Fishburn, Kate Winslet, Bryan Cranston and even Demetri Martin fell out of Comedy Central and made it into this movie. But the real story was the story. And more specifically, the specifics. This movie did its homework, or at least was intelligent-sounding enough to seem like it. It was the Blue Chips of disease movies. In addition to the chemistry behind the disease, it tackled the social implications on a micro-level with the janitor working at the CDC lab and on a macro-level with Jude Law’s internet propaganda character, making sure this movie was at least a little more than just a remake of Outbreak. Oh yeah. Elliot Gould was in this too.

Soderbergh leads us in one direction with a character, while he tucks the little foam ball into the faux-thumb on his other hand. In the course of 10 seconds, the internet propagandist we all thought was exposing the CDC for its handling of the viral information – traded places with that CDC official in the eyes of the audience. Soderbergh still tidies up the film by making sure every character is either good or bad, but at least he bothers to switch it around on us from time to time. And much in the way he handled Traffic about 10 years ago, he wove together all these self-contained vignettes into a quilt where you can still see some of the seams, but it keeps you very warm and you don’t have to hide it when company comes over. 9 bugs (out of 10).

Review of Moneyball

Review of Moneyball

I really wanted to like this movie more than I did. But I didn’t. I only liked it exactly as much as I did. At the heart of it, it was still just a formulaic underdog sports movie, complete with audio-driven video montage in the middle of it.

Here’s my issue with the movie. Brad Pitt starts out by making it to the playoffs with money problems. In baseball. Not basketball, where 4 or 5 teams get to the playoffs every year with a losing record. It’s pretty prestigious. Then his three best players leave for bigger contracts, so he tells his staff they need to start thinking differently. How? Well, I don’t know. Bring me a rock. No, that’s not the one. Bring me another rock. Nope. That’s not it either.

Then he meets Jonah Hill, who has a nice looking rock. So he buys it and goes all in with it. It’s a fun concept and I love the idea. But in the end, they get to the playoffs and prove to the world that they can do just as well as they did last year. People all around say “good try.” I know it was based on a true story, but it’s not billed as an educational documentary like Inside Job or The Cove. And after over two hours, just when I expected some sort of climax, there was white text on a black screen saying that he revolutionized the way people looked at the game and his idea brought success to another team. Oh, and not just any team, but the team that took his star player from him, who happened to be Jonah Hill’s example of somebody that this method has proven is not valuable.

Que?

So the movie instead overdramatized the record-setting 20-game win streak in the middle of the season only to immediately dismiss it when Brad Pitt admitted the streak meant nothing. The goal was a World Series. Which they didn’t achieve. What do you want us to feel, movie people?

That said, I enjoyed the idea they were striving for, combining sports and math as more GMs should. I’m hoping to see somebody like that pop up in football and revolutionize the way we view 4^th and 1. Maybe that’s how I’m going to make my millions. Mostly, I enjoyed seeing Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill in scenes together, even when they weren’t saying anything. They drove the audience through this convoluted math problem in a way that made us feel good about it. And the baseball scenes were so well-handled, I forgot most movies screw this up. On another note, can we please stop making 60-year-old managers wear a baseball uniform to work? They look ridiculous. 6 bugs (out of 10)

Review of the Descendants

Review of the Descendants

I stole this movie. I’m a 37-year old man sneaking into movie theaters. And I’m not ashamed. I was, however, terrified of getting caught. Some attendant kid walked into the theater about 20 minutes into the movie and my palms started sweating. He knew. There were only 7 of us in the theater and I was the only loser by myself. I thought if I just remained motionless that I’d have a better shot at going unnoticed. It’s important to note that it was a human attendant. Not a brown bear. He stood there for a minute, spoke into his shoulder (I assume there was a device there, not just the little attendant angel and devil), and left. I scooted over to sit with another couple just in case. But the cavalry never came. I guess the non-bear attendant just wanted to make sure there were no kids making out or videotaping or playing Words with Friends or anything.

As for the movie, it was mostly about a “back-up parent’s” relationship with his daughter when the mother gets a coma. Turns out she was cheating on him too. Before the coma thing, of course. If you like movies with awkward fathers trying to relate to teenage daughters, this is up your alley. Or if you just like to look at Hawaii or George Clooney for a few hours, ditto. The characters are three-dimensional (in the way they are written – not in the Avatar way) and the plot gives them a chance to span the gamut of emotions.

The plot gets going when George decides to try to find his wife’s (misteress? mister? cheatee?) and tell him that she’s in a coma. Turns out that dude is the guy from Without a Paddle. The one that’s not Dax Shepard or Seth Green. So be ready for that. I wasn’t. And he’s married to Judy Greer, whose name is cleverly disguised as Julie Speer in this movie. Really? That’s not a lot of effort, movie people. Also, the daughter was allowed to bring Jar Jar Binks on this mini-vacation for some reason in the form of a teenage stoner who also turned out to have some merit in the end without breaking his character, but only after annoying the hell out of this viewer for 90 minutes.

There was some business element to the movie that I couldn’t really follow. Something about selling land to build a golf course and that’s bad because the locals don’t want tourists. I guess we should all just live in our houses and not go anywhere. Is that what you want, Hawaii? Without this element, the movie was great. I cared about the emotions a husband has to deal with when a cheating wife dies and he’s suddenly in charge of raising his two daughters. But then the movie turned into a romantic “save the land” morality play that wasn’t fully developed. It took away from the closeness of the family. Thankfully, the end brought it back with a short dialogue-less scene in which the father and two daughters sit down on the couch, sharing some ice cream and watching March of the Penguins. That sums up the movie. It doesn’t try too hard to force the family dynamic into the story. Because it doesn’t need to. 7.5 bugs (out of 10)

A Rose is a Damn Rose, So Refer to It As Such

A Rose is a Damn Rose, So Refer to It As Such

I found myself in an awkward situation at a bar with a girl recently. Since this never happens now that I’m married, I welcomed the opportunity to engage. A first-year MFA student from one of my classes approached me at a bar and very aggressively asked me if I knew her name. “[Her Name]” Blam! Right off the tip of my tongue like she asked if I knew how fast a Delorean needed to go to get back to 1955. Point, Dustin. Follow-up question. What’s her name, pointing to someone else in the program. Easy. Flux capacitor. It’s what makes time travel possible. I win. We then proceed to talk about class and the weather and other things that two people who know each other’s names talk about.

On the way home, I reflected on the situation. The implication of her question was obviously that she didn’t think I knew her name – and that I should. Does she think I don’t know anybody’s name? Or that I’ve been ignoring her? Am I that much of an asshole now that I give off an air of “Sorry, but I can’t be bothered with the names of all 25 people in my class.” I’ve never really been able to talk to girls, but now it’s because I’m not sure if I’m allowed to. Maybe I didn’t win. Perhaps it would have been better if I didn’t know her name. I did prove that I indeed knew who she was, but something in my character apparently smells arrogant or indifferent to some people. Or maybe she just thinks I’m stupid and couldn’t possibly have the mental acuity to remember everybody’s name. Or maybe she asks everybody if they know her name. Which is a weird opening line. But hey, I’m no expert with opening lines. I once said to a Young Democrat “So…” and then stared at her for the longest 25 seconds in both of our lives. I still think about her every Election Day.

As I was leaving, I went to say goodbye to this room full of girls when I noticed a guy in there with them and blurted out “Cock in the henhouse!” No one at the table had ever heard of that saying and/or it’s more offensive than I think it is. Recommendation. Don’t use that saying in mixed company without doing considerable more research on it than I did and/or you don’t care if the people there think you’re an asshole.

Valentine’s Day for the Married

Valentine’s Day for the Married

I’ve spoken almost exhaustively about the cynical haze that surrounds Singles Awareness Day in 1998, 1998 and 1996 (before I could write good), the Valentine’s Day Curse back in 2005, 2005, 2001, 2001, and 2001 (not the best of years), saw a glimmer of hope in 2007 only to have it dashed in 2008, got snowed in in 2003, did the most amazingly fun and playful thing back in 1996 only to reap the fallout of it the next day, recounted my inner monologue during the sellout performance of Logic, Luck and Love on V Day last year, and I even wrote a poem and published an Application to be Dustin’s Valentine somewhere along the line. But this V Day marks the beginning of a new chapter of V Days. Valentine’s Day for the Married. Here’s how it goes.

Friday 2/10, Four days before V Day: I remind my wife that I don’t have class on Valentine’s Day. She tells me this is the first time she’s heard of it. I insist I told her earlier in the week. This argument lasts at least 5 minutes. I forget to ask her if she wants to do anything because I’ve been too distracted defending myself and trying to figure out if I actually ever did tell her my class was cancelled earlier in the week, like I had just vehemently insisted minutes earlier.

Sunday 2/12, Two days before V Day: I remember to ask her if she wants to do anything. She thinks about it. Something else happens. We forget to come to a conclusion.

Monday 2/13, One day before V Day: I convince Jenn that we decided we don’t want to go to a restaurant even though we never came to that conclusion. A student employee suggests I cook for her. I hadn’t even thought of that. I ask if that’s what she wants to do and she’s more than happy. She never wanted to go out anyway.

Note: I remembered a conversation we had over Christmas with my sister about love languages. We all have different ways we want to have love shared with us. I think there are five languages. Positive reinforcement, doing things with your partner, doing things for your partner but in separate rooms without seeing each other and two other things. I enjoy doing things with my partner while Jenn enjoys being right all the time. So if she wants to give me unsolicited incorrect feedback about the words to a Sara Bareilles song that happened to have been correct when they left my mouth, I’m going to let her. Because I love her.

Tuesday 2/14 @ 8:40am, V Day: I drive her to work in the city. During a chorus of Shoulda Been a Cowboy, she sings “Shoulda learned to roll around” instead of “shoulda learned to rope and ride.” Again, I support her. Then she asks if instead of me cooking for her tonight, if she could cook for me and I could just do her laundry. Sure thing, honey. So how different is Valentine’s Day for the Married? The answer is washing dirty socks.

Five Univocalists Write about the Superbowl

Five Univocalists Write about the Superbowl
(based on an assignment from my Writing class)

Bad snap. Act fast and balk a sack. A ball falls as a man’s arms arc. All Pats fans gasp as a mass. Hands grab and grasp a ball. What a pass! What a catch! What a play! A dad stands and claps. Crap. A sad man prays at Allah and Martha Kraft, always a class act. “A hand, smart gal?”

Alas. A halfback trap and a crackback attack and abracadabra! Add a mark. Ass backwards and all.

The G-Men best the preferred peer’s seventeen. They let the G-Men get there, extended the secs left, help them get there themselves. We’ll see.

Seven secs left. The perfect-chested, revered expert sends the egg-sphere deep. Defenders merge. Wes Welker stretches, wrestles the defense. The defenders persevere. The end.

The teen peeps tweet “G-Men get revenge!” G-Men center, Snee, texts ESPN press “We deserve the respect. E’s the best ever.” Schlereth types “Well, best except Drew Brees.”

Winning is simplistic with Mississippi’s first pick, insists his kin in pigskin, Nicks. “His instincts is bitchin.” Criticizing nitwits dismiss his childish spirit, indicting him in writing. In hindsight, I think it stinks.

XLVI highlights find in it pick in third with him hitting dirt, mini-flip in first bringing six with it, diving miss in its finishing ticks. “If it is, it is. If it isn’t, it isn’t” sighs Bill, missing his win in his fifth bid.

Poor Tom. Boston’s top sports pro lost. No comfort for Tom’s droop. Boston’s townsfolk boo “Oh no! Son of God!” Mobs scold worth of no good Rob Gronk, old school jock who drops odd oblong orb. No crown for Boston. Not now.

Gongs toll for good crosstown. Joy on York, world’s top dog of now. Photos show Soho’s crowds of morons know how to show off. No gloom or doom on snob town.

Cruz’s run stuns rum drunk fun bunch, thus stung unfun gurus. Gurus dumbstruck, blurt “Shut up, butt-turds! Tuck’s guys such bums.” Turf burn hurts. Lung burn sucks. Dumb luck unfurls. Such fun.

The Humble Hero from Harvard

The Humble Hero from Harvard

Most sportscasters and NBA analysts will tell the story of Jeremy Lin in the context of how the breakout star is saving the New York Knicks’ season, especially through this tough stretch without the multi-million dollar stars, Carmelo Anthony and Amari Stoudemire. But the analysts with the ability and foresight to look at the big picture implications can easily see how this guy might be the guy to save the entire league.

I’ve spoken at length about how the NBA needs a hero. The downward spiral they’ve been on for years is fueled by this flux capacitor of selfishness with the increasingly egomaniacal players, the press who get paid to give the fans a story they want, and the fans that are being manipulated into believing in stats and the importance of winning by the machine. This is what we’re feeding our kids. The only way out of this mess is to find a selfless hero to give the press something to write about that the fans can appreciate. Which means he needs to be a winner, first and foremost, to sustain a public image. Kobe was that guy for years until the sexual assault charges ruined his Food, Folks and Fun image. LeBron was for a while too until he finally got tired of pretending he wasn’t an arrogant blowhard. And not that Jeremy Lin is going to ever reach the talent level of those two, but if he continues with this streak that he’s on and makes waves in the playoffs, he could be the story that saves professional basketball.

Some don’t believe the NBA needs saving. I understand. They still have fans. But I did something I hadn’t done in seasons. I watched a game. Well, the last 8 minutes of a game, but still. The NBA has become about highlights and contracts and superstars who score 35 points on 45 shots (that’s not very good). I was really hoping the entire season would be locked out to hopefully teach it a lesson. Then up from the ashes comes a humble Harvard Asian-American point guard who has been sleeping on his brother’s couch through the 10-day contracts he’s gotten from the Knicks. And he’s done it to not just the Wizards and the Jazz, but now the beloved Lakers. He has garnered the attention of the casual viewer, like me, who has tired of watching the chest-pounding, showboating ways of today’s NBA.

This doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to fall victim to an egomaniacal tirade or a run-in with the law – probably not even a parking violation. And the timing is perfect. He’s come to the forefront of our focus just after football season, when a lot of us are searching for something to merit our attention, and just at the tragic fall of one of the best role models in all of sports history with the Penn State saga. He is the first person of Asian-American descent to start a game in the NBA and the second Harvard grad. He has already become an international star and has increased traffic on the Knicks websites by 3000%.

I’m looking for a role model. Someone to inspire kids to play for something besides showing up other kids and end zone celebrations. This is my hope for the NBA and sports in general. I’m putting all my chips in on the Lin-sanity craze. And maybe it’s too early. Maybe he won’t be the superstar I’m hoping he’ll be, and thus may fall out of the spotlight. Maybe once Carmello comes back, the team chemistry will fall apart and he’ll fade into the background. Or worse, maybe the NBA will lose their focus on him and start to spotlight Carmello and the stats again. But hopefully the media and the fans can keep their attention on him for a while, for whatever reason. Because in a league that’s more common to high school dropouts than Ivy League grads*, it would be nice for a humble Harvard kid to share some of the spotlight. For the kids.

* (Note: This is based on no real research. Please don't quote me on any of it.)

Review of Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Review of Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

“They say there are more people alive today than have died in the course of human history.” This is the quote the movie opens with. This was another way of saying “Dustin, I know you paid to get in here to see the movie, but why don’t you consume yourself with something else for the next 45 minutes instead.” Really? How the hell is that possible? When did human history start? What does that suggest about our future? Will that always be the case? Al Gore was right. We’re fucked. And who the hell is he quoting? He just said “They say…” They could very well be The Fraggles. And what the hell do they know about anything? They live in caves, for Godsake, caves!

I was quickly sidetracked. The movie had little to do with the origin of human history or Fraggles. Or Al Gore. And I’m still not sure what was supposed to be loud and/or close and to what degree. The movie was about a son who loses his father and spends the movie searching for a matching lock to his father’s key. And it’s much different than Hugo, who was searching for a matching key for his lock. See, different movies.

This borderline autistic child loses his father in 9/11. The movie definitely uses 9/11 to tickle your tear ducts, but it isn’t untastefully done. In fact, there weren’t many more shots of “the worst day” in the movie than was in the trailer. The movie focused on young Oskar’s mission to find a message that his father may or may not have left him before he died hidden somewhere in the city. This is a lot of emotional heavy lifting for a child actor not named Haley Joel Osment.

I learned in memoir class that you can always write about the bad stuff you did when you were a kid because the audience sympathizes with you. You are not yet responsible for your actions. But at the turn of the film, Oskar told his mom that he wished she was the one who was in the World Trade Center instead. That’s tough to recover from at any age. He whispered “I love you” under the door for just about no reason other than to win the audience back. It did not work for this viewer.

The last 20 minutes were as sappy as promised, but it gave the movie the heart that I assume the Academy voters thought was worth the Best Picture nod. I was less moved than I anticipated, as I tend to tear up at the end of most episodes of Monk. Maybe it’s because I saw what they were doing and it put me back in a movie theater chair. The slow-motion of the vase falling, the close-up of the answering machine, the mute grandfather with a secret and the “Swing Away” writer’s contrivance appearing phone number that Mr. Attention-to-Detail didn’t think to check before he started this trip. I did not dislike this movie because of any exploitation of the 9/11 tragedy, but because it’s hard to appreciate the taste of cheese when it’s on the end of a mop being shoved down my throat. 4 bugs (out of 10)

Quick Inside Slant: Pre-Superbowl Edition

Quick Inside Slant:

by Dustin Fisher
Impressions of the 2011 NFL season as perceived by a Creative Writing grad student, part-time amateur stand-up comedian and collegiate intramural flag football legend (all same person).

The Book of Eli: I will hate Eli Manning until the day that I die for the mess he made on draft day back in 2004, proving that if you have a father and older brother with political clout and whine loud enough that you can buck the system and get your way. Actually, we still remembered that lesson from Election Day 2002, but we already knew politics could be bought. But not the mighty shield! What’s left to believe in? Susan G. Komen?

That said, he has sadly proven that he is a good quarterback this year. And it pains me to admit it on many, many levels. No one has rooted for his failure more than I have over the last 7 years. He has not only a Superbowl MVP, but a play. You know it. And there’s unfortunately nothing anybody can do to change that. The screaming fist pump has replaced the frumpy-shouldered pouty-face that defined his first 4 years.

A Man Named Brady: I really have nothing against Tom Brady. He’s a good-looking guy, but he can’t help that. He married a supermodel, but last I heard, they also age. And Bill Belichick has channeled his inner-Howie Mandel this past week for some reason. They are such a good coach-quarterback combo that despite being outmatched in every facet of the game, they are still favored by 3. That’s how scared the book-makers and the greater public are to bet against the Brady/Belichick package. And yes, I managed to make you think about Tom Brady’s package.

Root of the Problem: So who am I rooting for? Well, the schadenfreude part of me would really like to see frumpy-pants one more time. Tom Brady loses like a man and that’s no fun to see on SportsCenter for 7 months. And mostly, I want to shut up the “us against the world” Giants idiots who apparently haven’t seen this.

What world? 6 of 8 experts picked you guys, dipshits. Stop whining and play the damn game. I’m really hoping you’ll lose so at the press conference you’ll have to say “well, I guess the world was right.” Go Pats.

Predictions: I’m glad I’m not stupid enough to put money on this, because I would be flipping a coin. I have made an unofficial vow to never bet against New England as long as the Brady/Belichick/Kraft combo is there. And yes, I’m throwing in the owner. He’s earned it. But the Giants seem to be their kryptonite. They’re the only team with a winning record against the Pats since Mo Lewis changed the world in 2001 (on the first game after 9/11, for you conspiracy theorists). A lot of teams try to set up their teams to beat other teams in their conference (Texans taking Mario Williams to take on Peyton Manning; Eagles keeping three all-star cornerbacks to stack up against the Saints & Packers spread offenses), but the Giants have developed a team just to beat the Patriots. Or so it seems, as evidenced by their 9-7 record and two losses to the Crapskins this year.

All that nonsense said, I’m dancing with the men that brought me here. I’m convinced that no matter how badly overmatched the Patriots are, Belichick will find a way to pull a rabbit out of his sweatshorts. Wow, that was a disgusting visual. Sorry. I could easily see the Giants falling behind by three touchdowns early in the second quarter. That would never happen to the Pats. So I’ll take all my fake money and go with the Pats. Again.

Other predictions: In addition to the Pats avenging their only Superbowl loss in the Brady era (they lost to the 1985 Bears by 137), here are some other Superbowl predictions:

·         At least 6 people at the party will say they only watch the game for the commercials (7 guys, 7 girls in attendance).

·         Cris Collinsworth will say something that makes perfect sense and improves your understanding of football, but because of the tone of his voice you will want to punch him in the throat. (Chris White said it too well to change)

·         I will wind up buying at least 60 squares again to make the board even.

·         All the talk of those 4 defensive ends flying upfield to get Brady will be dampened by the no huddle that New England will be running.

·         During the 9 ½ hours of Superbowl coverage, NBC will show the David Tyree catch 213 times.

·         My Skyline Chili dip will be the new favorite dip of 3 people.

·         I will get upset with at least two people who clearly don’t know football and try to pretend they do for one day a year.

• Note: One of them might be my wife.
• Other note: I won’t be invited back next year.

Double Feature Duel: Monster vs. Crazy, Stupid, Love

Double Feature Duel:
Monster vs. Crazy, Stupid, Love

Bout #32: Last but not least, two of the best movies in this bracket by far.

Monster: All I knew about this is that Charlize Theron won an Oscar and gained a lot of weight for this role. Turns out it was a really good movie, and a true story to boot. It had prostitution, lesbianism, drinking, murder and a cute, awkward Christina Ricci. And at the heart, it was a love story. It’s good to see a movie made with three-dimensional characters who get conflicted about decisions. And the movie did an impressive job of getting the audience to buy into this woman and her serial killing ways. You understand and sympathize a lot more than you pass judgment and detest. It was an excellent portrait of a troubled person in a shitty situation and Theron’s head-jerk hair-flip move alone could have earned her the Oscar. Not to mention her stonewashed jeans. 9 bugs.

Crazy, Stupid, Love.: Cheesy, silly, fun. There were character inconsistencies, awkwardly positioned scenes and forced plot points mixed in with a fun buddy story, superb comedic acting and a few moments of great dialogue. And the end made the whole movie worth the wait. Not the very end with the overpowering cherry flavoring, but you’ll know what I’m talking about. It was Kayser Soze for comedy. It’s like seeing the track ahead of you on the roller coaster and thinking you have it all prepared, when right at the crest of the hill, the floor drops out. And then the guy next to you gives you a box of chicken fingers you didn’t order, but you so desperately want anyway. We knew what the very end was going to bring when we saw who was in the movie, but it’s one of the few movies I wanted to watch again immediately after finishing it. It’s worth it alone to check out the scenes with Ryan Gosling coaching Steve Carrel in the art of the pick-up. 8.5 bugs.

Title: I’m a fan of the one-word titles. I’m also a fan of using a little bit of punctuation. But the period is so fucking annoying when you’re writing about it. (Point, Monster 1-0)

Funnier: By a country mile. (Point, Crazy 1-1)

Better Turn: Any scene that can make you understand the psyche of a serial killer is a pretty awesome scene. (Point, Monster 2-1)

Better Ending: Well, it wasn’t technically the very ending, but the big reveal scene was a piece of comic magic. (Point, Crazy 2-2)

Better Message: Maybe not a message per se, but definitely worth mentioning (again) that this is a movie that makes you appreciate and sympathize with a serial killer. And one that actually existed. (Point, Monster 3-2)

Better Acting: I do love the comic stylings of Ryan Gosling and Steve Carrel, but the Oscar was definitely deserved. (Point, Monster 4-2)

More Creative: It’s super tough for based on real life stories to compete in this category, and Crazy was creative enough in its handling of the Ryan Gosling taking Steve Carrel under his wing situation to stave off the true story. (Point, Crazy 4-3)

Poster: I was on the fence until the “portrait of life, love and everything in between” quote from somebody from Fox TV. So a bad quote by an unknown source. Flush. (Point, Monster 5-3)

Watch again: As I mentioned, I really liked Crazy and almost watched it again immediately. The only thing that stopped me was that I have a job, a wife and a baby on the way. (Point, Crazy 5-4)

Overall: So close. Winner: Monster (5-4)

Double Feature Duel: Horrible Bosses vs. Pineapple Express

Double Feature Duel:
Horrible Bosses vs. Pineapple Express

Bout #30: I will take Charlie Day over Seth Rogan in any category ever. Acting, stand up, team scrabble. Whatever.

Horrible Bosses: The latest in a long line of inept wannabe criminal films where the movie makes you sympathize with the would-be murderers, either through their likability or ineptitude. Jason Bateman, Charlie Day and the new guy from Saturday Night Live are the three main characters who land in a bar trying to hire Jamie Foxx to help them. Of course, he only agrees to be their murder consultant, as he doesn’t want to head back to the clink for the hard time he did for pirating DVDs. Through all this, the stars of the film are the namesakes in an ultra-narcissistic Kevin Spacey, a coked-out Colin Farrell and a sex-crazed, batshit crazy Jennifer Aniston. Props to Farrell for stepping outside his normal heartthrob role, but seeing Aniston talk about her pussy was as jaw-dropping as hearing Kathleen Turner drop “cocksucker” and “motherfucker” in Serial Mom. The concept was the same one from Throw Momma from the Train because it was good enough for DeVito and Crystal. The ending is weak, which often happens when you try to get all your main characters out of a dark comedy scot-free. The Hangover got lucky. But enough humor made it through all the plot contrivances to make it worth the watch. 6 bugs (out of 10)

Pineapple Express: I have rarely been more disappointed when looking at the Tomatometer rating than I was when I found out that critics gave Pineapple Express a 68%. I figured the audience would like it. People are stupid. But critics who critique films? This film sucked. By a country mile. The dialogue was atrocious, the plot was stupid and it couldn’t figure out whether or not it wanted to glamorize pot or berate it. The movie was riddled with pointless and distracting slow motion, freeze frames and wipes. The big turn of the film was an argument scene between the two potheads to allegedly mount tension, only with dialogue written by and for potheads. Maybe if I smoked pot, I’d think this was funny. Maybe 68% of critics were high. I’m guessing they thought the rope rubbing scene was comic gold. I only finished watching this atrocity out of respect for Jenn, who probably didn’t want to finish it either. In the climactic fight scene at the end, Seth Rogan actually said the words “There might be more bad guys through there.” I’m mostly upset at whoever it was that decided Seth Rogan was funny. This was obviously written while high, shot while high and needs to be viewed while high. James Franco is the only thing salvaging this movie from a 0 bug rating. 0.5 bug (out of 10)

Title: Boy, they just couldn’t think of anything else, could they? (Point, Pineapple 0-1)

Funnier: I just wasn’t high enough, I guess. (Point, Bosses 1-1)

Better Turn: The scene where Seth Rogan tries to teach his pot dealer a life lesson is one of the worst written scenes in the history of cinema. (Point, Bosses 2-1)

Better Ending: Except maybe for this one. (Point, Bosses 3-1)

Better Message: Pineapple Express couldn’t figure out what the hell it wanted to do. Is it pro-pot? Anti-pot? Does it have any idea what the hell it’s doing at the end? (Point, Bosses 4-1)

Better Acting: I feel bad that James Franco was even in that movie. (Point, Bosses 5-1)

More Creative: Well, there wasn’t much originality in stealing the basic idea of Throw Mamma from the Train, but at least it acknowledged it. And the way they used Jennifer Aniston and Collin Ferrell was awesome. (Point, Bosses 6-1)

Poster: Franco’s hilarious expression is cancelled out by Rogan’s grandstanding nonsense. And Farrell’s hair is almost awesome enough to make up for the lack of anything really interesting. I guess I’ll go with the cloud of smoke in the background. It feels less like an intro to Print Shop project. (Pineapple 6-2)

Watch again: If I live right, I shouldn’t ever have to watch that awful movie again, even in parts. (Point, Bosses 7-2)

Overall: After Tree of Life, I was a little nervous. Thank you, Horrible Bosses. Winner: Horrible Bosses (7-2)