Best Basketball Movies of All-Time

I'm in a sporting slump. The NBA season is over, I'm getting past Lebron James' defection to the Miami Heat, the World Cup ended unceremoniously, and the NFL season is still two months away. Sure, there's always MLB and MLS to follow, but I would rather drill a hole into my own head than watch either of those. Baseball is about as much fun to watch as "Two Girls and One Cup", and MLS has less excitement in it than the Rodney Dangerfield-classic Ladybugs. That doesn't leave me with much to occupy my time these days, and I thought about counting down my favorite basketball games of all-time, but the wound Lebron tore open is still too raw (his 48-point demolition of the Detroit Pistons in '07 would have certainly been on the list). That, and I'm too lazy to track down two of the games I want to watch - those games are Detroit-LA Game 1 from 2004, and MJ's 55-game eruption at MSG when he was still wearing number 45. If you're at all curious, the other three games I would include are the Bulls-Suns Game 6 from the '93 Finals, Cavs-Pistons ECF Game 5 from '07, and the Sixers-Lakers Game 1 from 2000. Best games ever? Nope, not really, but they were some of my favorites ever, and I'll never forget what I was doing when I watched them for the first time.

Instead, I'm opting to choose my five favorite basketball movies ever, and one extremely honorable mention. I'll give a rundown of why I love these movies, and why they are great examples of the sports movie. They're all pretty cheesy, in the end, and are awfully formulaic. They do, however, hold a place in my heart because they are fun. So, without further ado, let's get this show on the road.

Honorable Mention: Space Jam (1996)

You all remember this gem, don't you? How is it possible to not? It's a movie that features MJ, the GOAT, playing alongside the Looney Tunes in an effort to save them from a sleazy cartoon monster voiced by Danny DeVito. It was a hit when it was released - I saw it onThanksgiving in '96, and owned it on video - proving that, at the time, Jordan was a God. He was able to star in a crappy movie with cartoon characters and make it a hit. Everything about the movie is bad - R. Kelly's song "I Believe I Can Fly" and Quad City DJ's "Space Jam" from the soundtrack are wretched - except for the highlight reel from Jordan's career during the opening credits, yet the movie has a certain lovable quality that I can't ignore. Maybe it's Charles Barkley, the Round Mound of Rebound, losing his skills and promising God that, if he gets them back, he'll never date Madonna again. Maybe it's the alien who steals Barkley's game looking like a slightly fatter, more orange version of Barkley. Maybe it's the hilarity of Shawn Bradley being considered an elite player, which is unbelievable even in a world in which the Looney Tunes exist. Or, maybe it's Bill Fucking Murray showing up to save the day. I don't know, and frankly, I don't give a shit. All I know is that this movie is a testament to Jordan's unparalleled skills as a basketball player and businessman (although it is clear that he cannot act out of a paper sack), as the most marketable athlete to ever live. And, in spite of all of the film's shortcomings - of which you could fill a book with - there is a nice little message at the end that did a good job of summing up Jordan's love for the game: when you love something so much - as MJ does basketball - then you just can't keep away from it. Incidentally, that same message was conveyed years later in the homo-erotic drama Brokeback Mountain. I don't know what to make of that, but all I know is this, Space Jam: I can't quit you.

Number 5: White Men Can't Jump (1992)

An oft-forgotten gem from the early 90's, White Men Can't Jump looked and acted like an 80's buddy flick. Just look at the bright, faux-neon-clad Wesley Snipes in the poster. This is, in and of itself, surprising, considering it was made around the same time Rodney King got the living shit smashed out of him by racist cops, and the flick deals with race issues in LA, albeit comically, yet it was still a hot-button issue at the time. There are some genuinely cool moments of street hoops to be found here, and nothing tops Woody Harrelson's white-as-shit jumper and being dogged by Snipes throughout the movie's run time for being like Greg Brady. In between the hoop scenes, there is really some good banter between the two leads, and the outfits... well, just look at that tank top and hat Wesley's wearing in that poster again. It's a criminally underrated flick that, I contend, gave birth to the saucy, sassy, fast-talking Latina that Rosie Perez has made a career off of, and deserves more attention than it ever receives. Woody and Wesley did a great job of learning the sport of basketball, and they look pretty damn convincing hoopin' it up on the sun-baked courts. The ending is also great; in spite of the title, Woody proves that white men can indeed jump.

Number 4: He Got Game (1998)

If you know who Spike Lee is, then you know he loves basketball. Therefore, it's really no surprise that he would eventually make a basketball movie with Denzel Washington, whom he also loves. The real surprise comes from Ray Allen, the real-life Hall of Famer who portrays Jesus Shuttlesworth as a high school phenom who could make the jump to the pros if he wanted to. Underneath all of the basketball, there is a story there about redemption - Denzel plays Ray-Ray's imprisoned dad who is trying to win back his son's affection after pushing his son so hard to be great, and accidentally killing his mother - but it all takes a backseat to the top-notch basketball sequences that Denzel and Ray both shine in. Early on, there's a scene which shows Jesus shooting jumper after beautiful jumper that hit nothing but net every time. Lee's love of the game is easy to see whenever there is a game played, but he has a few missteps when trying to show the temptation young Jesus is experiencing when he visits random colleges. There are several sex scenes in the flick, and all of them fall flat. I'm no prude, but seeing Ray Allen fuck a chick on a ferris wheel is something I never thought I'd see, nor did I ever expect to see him have a threesome with two huge-breasted white women. It's moments like these that Lee's detractors get their ammunition: he focuses on race a bit too much from time to time, and while I understand the importance of it, he sometimes relays the information in a fashion that is just a bit too hamfisted for my liking. I get that race issues are important, but he doesn't have to beat us white folk over the head with a hammer so that we get it. Yet nothing detracts from the awesome sequences of ball played, and the soundtrack from Public Enemy is spot-on.

Number 3: Above the Rim (1994)

It's a pretty stupid fucking movie, I know, but I just can't not love it. The opening sequence lets you know you're in for a stupid ride from the get-go: two stud basketball players on a roof-top court without a fence (!?!) seeing who can hit a higher point on the backboard. One of them inexplicably jumps too far with too much power and in the process breaks the backboard and falls off the fucking roof to his death. The survivor, Shep (played by Leon, the star of the best bobsledding movie ever made - tough title to grab, by the way - Cool Runnings) can't handle the guilt and gives up on basketball in order to be a janitor. Years pass, and the school Shep works at has a promising young baller named Kyle (Duane Martin) playing there. The problem is, Kyle is like Kobe Bryant circa 2005 - he doesn't give a shit about his teammates, and thinks that he can carry a team to victory on his own (basketball movie no-no). The lure of the hood, fame, and notoriety leads him underneath local gangster Birdie's wing (see what I did there?). Birdie (Tupac "Am I Dead or What?" Shakur) is getting together a basketball tournament and recruits Kyle to lead his team. Shep reaches out to Kyle, but is shunned. Guess what happens? Kyle learns he was wrong, and he and Shep take down Birdie's thugs in the tournament finals in amazing fashion. The film has more cliches than I can count, and the acting varies from tolerable to abysmal, but there are some good basketball scenes, and the flick doesn't try to be anything more than what it is. The ending is pretty good, too, as Kyle becomes Kobe Bryant circa 2010 - a natural, talented leader who vocally commands his team and appreciates them. My only complaint? We don't get to see Kyle's "Kobe Bryant Rapes a Chick" character arc. Oh well, I'll always hold out hope that we'll get a sequel entitled "Above the Rimjob: Kyle Rapes a Chick's Butthole."

Number 2: Hoosiers (1986)

What? Hoosiers isn't number one? How can that be? The answer is simple: it's because, no matter how great this movie is, it pales in comparison to the number one movie (I'm not spoiling it yet). What we get here is rare in any sports flick: one in which the characters are believable, sympathetic, and interesting. It's the story of a disgraced coach (Gene Hackman) who gets a second chance by coaching a local team. Through standard movie-coach cliches like hard-nosed, no-nonsense coaching, yet deep-down affection for his players, he turns them into contenders for the State title! It's a great movie about teamwork and second chances, and every kid who loves basketball has no doubt seen this movie numerous times. If you haven't ever seen this movie before, what the hell are you waiting for? It's excellent in almost every way, and even though the basketball scenes lack the oomph of those from He Got Game or even White Men Can't Jump, the story elevates it above those movies.

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Number 1: Teen Wolf (1985)

A lot of great and important things happened in 1985, like New Coke being released and failing miserably, Gorbachev becoming the last president of the USSR, the original Nintendo be released, "We Are the World" being recorded... Yep, all of those moments occurred in the calender year of 1985, but all of them are eclipsed by only two events from that year: the first is the birth of yours truly, and the second is the release of stone cold fucking classic Teen Wolf. You are probably thinking to yourself right now, 'Whatever, it's about a fucking teenage werewolf, what can it really be about?' My answer is simple: It's about everything. It's about love, growing up, coming to terms with who you are and embracing it, teenage popularity, puberty, basketball, realizing who your true friends are, understanding life is about more than nailing the hot blonde during play practice (to be fair, life's not about much more than that), the importance of teamwork, and, oh yeah, a teenage fucking werewolf who hood-surfs to the Beach Boys and plays varsity basketball! This movie has it all, ladies and gentlemen. And in the end, it's all about basketball.

Scott Howard (Michael J. Fox) is a short little pipsqueak trying to fit in with the cool kids and play some varsity basketball. He wants to be popular, he wants to kick ass at basketball, and most importantly, he wants to be inside Pamela Wells, the school's "it-girl" and all around beeyotch. Sadly, poor Scott can't do any of those things while he's stuck being a nerdy, short fella who pals around with Stiles (the film's token "cool guy") and Boof, the oddly attractive girl who's heart belongs to Scott, although he doesn't reciprocate the feelings. Then, one night, something special happens: he transforms into a werewolf! Turns out, his family has been cursed with lycanthropy - although I don't believe that word is ever uttered in the film - and he, understandably, freaks out after learning as much. He gets over that angst rather quickly, and when he "wolfs out" at school, he's initially looked upon as a freak (no shit, he's a fucking werewolf!) but is then quickly embraced by the student body for being so bad-ass at hoops. Turns out that Scott is infinitely better at everything as a werewolf than he is as a boring, run-of-the-mill human (and when I say everything, I mean it... the tender subject of bestiality is somehow avoided in the movie, although I know for a fact some bitches were fucking wolves). He turns around the shitty basketball team and they become contenders for the state championship, and Scott's head begins to expand greatly. He starts alienating his teammates on the court, often going 1-on-5 in an attempt to win over the fans as they win their games handily. The team is on the precipice of greatness, but Scott's teammates are miserable. How can they enjoy themselves and their victory if they're not doing anything to positively affect the outcome? They are sick of playing with a teammate who cares only about personal glory, not the joy of winning (or losing) as a team. In order to truly succeed, Scott must recognize that, win or lose, the game's about more than personal accolades. It's about teamwork.

The drama of the game is on full display here, and never has there been anything that has so prophetically captured the drama of being a me-first guy on film. I hate to bring it up again, but this is classic Kobe Bryant circa 2006 again: an immensely talented player who recognizes his supporting cast is made up of shitty players (for Kobe, he had Smush Parker and Kwame Brown, Scott Howard had some fat fucker. Worse teammates? Kobe), and instead of working hard to make them better, said player goes for personal glory and tries to win it all on his own. Scott, like Kobe, eventually realizes this, and in the big game, he plays as a plain ol' human, not as a werewolf. It seems stupid to compare a teen comedy like Teen Wolf to actual NBA players, but it's alarmingly accurate as a portrayal of NBA hotshots. It happens far too often for me to believe that there are still some stupid headcases out there who don't recognize the importance of teamwork and unity. I really think that every lottery pick or franchise player who thinks he's that good that he can go it alone should have to watch this film over and over until they learn their lesson.

Yeah, Teen Wolf isn't high cinema, and it will never win any awards, but it is a great movie about not only basketball, but life as well. While it tackles the hard-hitting issue of being a ball-hog, it can also be viewed as an allegory for puberty - getting hair in weird places, all the physical changes, wanting to bang the hot girl all the time - as well. Don't ignore the movie just because it has a teenage werewolf who makes the Harlem Globetrotters look like five year-olds playing on a Nerf hoop. Don't do that. No, let it take you over, and embrace the joys of watching a werewolf do stupid shit.

Inception

*****
Five Stars Out of Five

There is really no easy way to start this review. I generally try to come up with some droll comment that proves how funny, hip, and edgy I am. Today, I can't. I think it's partly because I'm a wreck of a person, and I think it's partly because, no matter what I say, it will never ever be as hip or edgy as the film Christopher Nolan has just released upon the masses.

Once every ten years or so, there is a film released that is wholly unique in it's vision; a film so intensely intelligent that you suddenly ask yourself why you've been slumming it with the Transformers movies, the Iron Man movies, or, heck, pretty much everything else being released in the multiplexes these days. That's not to say that those movies aren't enjoyable or fun (I tend to re-watch those movies quite a bit, as a matter of fact), but sometimes there's just something that's so much better out there that we get to see what the medium of film is truly capable of. Today, I got to see a movie that truly reminded me of what movies are capable of. Today, I had the privilege to view something so truly special that it would be impossible to capture in any other medium and have the same powerful effect on me. That movie, of course, is The Sorcerer's Apprentice. Just kidding. I will never watch that pile of shit! I'm talking about Inception, a movie that I find is incredibly hard to write a review about, because there are no words I am capable of compiling into a coherent sentence that can relay how special I found it to be. I am going to try, really, really hard, to somehow convey the way I feel about this movie, but I am afraid I will fail miserably. I apologize ahead of time.

So, what do you do for an encore after you've constructed the finest comic book adaptation to date? That's the conundrum Christopher Nolan found himself in in the wake of The Dark Knight's enormous success two years ago. By creating something that became a pop culture phenomenon, and crafting a film that expertly blended crime noir with superheros in capes - not to mention directing one of the finest performances in years from the late Heath Ledger - Christopher Nolan painted himself into a bit of a corner. How was he going to be able to come up with another movie that would somehow meet the exceedingly high bar he set for himself with The Dark Knight? Well, the simple answer was he went out and made a movie he'd been working on for 10 years (rumor has it that he started writing Inception when he was directing the mind-fuck classic Memento). I applaud Nolan for this, because he could have played it safe. He could have went right to work on a sequel to the Batman franchise he resurrected from the grave and nobody would have criticized him for it. Instead, he made it hard on himself by deciding his next picture was going to be Inception, a movie which, if not mind-blowingly awesome, would allow him to be crucified on various internet message boards as a pompous ass who bit off more than he could chew, instead of simply giving the fans what they wanted so badly in the form of another Batman flick.

Inception introduces the viewer into a world where certain people have discovered ways to invade our dreams. The goal of the invaders? To steal valuable information for high-priced bidders. The invaders are involved in a sort of corporate espionage where the goal is to infiltrate a person's dream and then extract valuable information which will pay them handsomely. The film doesn't pull any punches, starting off in the middle of a dream. Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Arthuer (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) are two "dream thieves" attempting to steal information from a powerful individual named Saito (Ken Watanabe). When the extraction hits a snag, Cobb and Arthur attempt to hide from their would-be victim, only to be lured into a more insidious, infinitely more dangerous invasion. Saito wants them to plant an idea into Robert Fischer's (Cillian Murphy) mind. Sounds simple enough, right? But that's not all, in order for this "inception" to occur, the men must make the idea appear to be one of the victim's own thinking, otherwise the idea won't take full effect. The two men then get together a crew of individuals who are able to help them accomplish this goal including Ariadne (Ellen Page), Eames (an outstanding Tom Hardy), and Yusuf (Dileep Rao). The process then unfolds in an amazingly intricate, exciting fashion which is punctuated by one of the best endings in recent memory that will leave people talking for days.

I've attempted to be intentionally vague about the plot, giving the barest-bones synopsis I possibly can in order to preserve the joy of discovering this world for yourself. If I had to describe the movie in only a few words, I would say that it is the first (and likely only) metaphysical heist flick ever made. Nolan and co. do a tremendous job of creating a world where it is possible to enter someone else's dreams, and they do an even better job of organically explaining the rules of this world. With such a high-concept idea as this, it would be easy to screw up and alienate the viewer rather quickly. Instead, Nolan perfectly balances the high-wire act by infusing some amazing action set pieces (that hotel hallway fight scene was incredible), trippy visuals like Paris folding in on itself, interesting characters, and an easy-to-follow-hard-as-hell-to-describe narrative. There's a great sequence early on in which Cobb recruits Ariadne, a woman who has no idea that entering into a person's subconscious is even possible, to his cause. Ariadne brilliantly functions as both an interesting character and a proxy for the audience. She knows as little as we do about this world and it's capabilities, so we get to learn as she does while Cobb explains what is possible, impossible, improbable, and likely to occur in dreams. What could have been a ham-fisted approach which quickly stops the narrative in it's tracks instead becomes a visual feast that did a few things I didn't think were possible in cinema.

Simply put, Nolan has become one of the best directors working in film today. He brilliantly blends high-concept intelligence with characters we give a shit about and amazing action sequences. I can't even think of another director which closely resembles his style - he's not like Spielberg who is the king of popcorn entertainment; he not like Scorsese who can blend every cinematic style throughout the ages to capture the psyche of damaged (and often unsavory) characters; he's not like Tarantino who wants nothing more than to pay the ultimate tribute to film while displaying some of the best dialogue ever heard. He's a wholly unique talent who is confident in his abilities, and also in the intelligence of his audience. He refuses to dumb down his ideas for the audience, and he revels in the ambiguity he leaves them with. He's like the Bizarro-Michael Bay - where Bay only cares about having as many explosions as possible surrounding his one-dimensional characters who are generally as likable as rolling around in poison ivy, Nolan wants us to feel for his characters, to try to understand who they are, and how they came to this point. Michael Bay's filmmaking has a place in the world - there are always going to be people who want to turn their brains off to watch giant robots battle superficially - but it is just disposable. It doesn't challenge you like Nolan's films do, and that's the biggest surprise of all: to watch an exciting, challenging film that has amazing action scenes and even more amazing ideas blended perfectly together is something seen all too rare these days.

The cast is, in a word, exceptional. Leonardo DiCaprio continues to impress as Cobb. Starting with Gangs of New York and Catch Me If You Can in 2002, DiCaprio began to show how talented of an actor he truly is. Like most guys my age, I hated the guy when I was younger because of his role in Titanic, and how every girl within a 300 mile radius of me wanted to bone him, but he's really become one of the best actors of his generation. He acts with his entire body, and there is a scene in Inception in which he really flexes his acting muscles by making him a truly sympathetic individual. Over the past eight years, DiCaprio has grown into a must-see actor, and his role in this only cements his reputation as an absolute marvel in the medium of film. It is no surprise that Scorsese has taken to him like he did to Robert De Niro in the 70's. Then there's Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Arthur. JGL (which is how I will refer to him from now on because his name is a pain in the ass to type) has been a critic's darling for years now, and he's finally going to get some well-deserved recognition in the mainstream. He should really become a hot commodity now, and it couldn't happen to a better actor. He has a cool confidence about him that makes him likable and believable as a bad-ass like Arthur. I've never been a big fan of Ellen Page, mostly due to her role in the hipster douche-fest Juno from a few years back. She was the embodiment of everything I hate about hipster-douches in that film, and she had an uphill battle to win me over. She hasn't done so completely, but her role as Ariadne is a big step in the right direction. The biggest surprise from the cast easily comes in the form of Tom Hardy who plays bad-ass extraordinaire Eames. I've never seen him act in anything before, and he was the highlight here as he deftly combined the physicality his role demanded and a cocky sense of humor in which he belittles Arthur at every opportunity. I expect big things from him, as well. The rest of the cast is filled with recognizable names and faces like Michael Caine, Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy, and Tom Berenger (!).

Overall, I can't say much else about the film than has already been said. It's a special kind of flick that only comes along once in a blue moon, and I sincerely hope that it receives the attention it deserves. Christopher Nolan has developed into a wholly unique filmmaker who is capable of such greatness that I can't think of another director from his generation that has made as many great films as he has. Inception was great on every level, and I cannot think of any conceivable fault that it had in weaving it's story. I loved every moment of it. I can't wait to see what Nolan's career produces next, and I will be there opening day for it whenever that happens. But first, I need to go see this fucking movie again.

Predators

***** Four Stars Out of Five


When I was a young, impressionable boy, at the tender age of four, I experienced a movie that changed my life. My older brother exposed me to Predator, a movie that involved six commandos - including some of the manliest men to ever walk God's green earth like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Apollo Creed himself, Carl Weathers - going into Guatemala to fuck some bad dudes up. The premise was standard action fare for the time, but there was a unique spin to the traditional story - they were hunted by an alien with technology far beyond our wildest dreams, and a penchant for taking souvenirs from his human trophies.

As the years wore on, Predator became one of my most-rented movies (up there with Desperado, which is funny for reasons I'll explain later). It seemed as though every fourth weekend at Blockbuster involved me snatching up Predator along with some other movies that I can't remember today. I drifted away from the movie until my senior year of high school, when I rediscovered it after a Mountain Dew-fueled evening at a friend's house. We watched the film and concluded that it was, indeed, the Manliest Movie Ever Made. Now that I'm 25, that decision still stands. There are more oiled-up biceps, murders, bad-ass weapons with nicknames like "Old Painless," and testosterone in that movie than any film should legally be allowed to have. There are some of the best lines a man could ever hope to speak, such as, "Stick Around!" "I ain't got time to bleed," "GET TO THE CHOPPAH!!!" "If it bleeds, we can kill it," and my personal favorite (a line that would be etched on my tombstone if my future wife would allow it): "A bunch of slack-jawed faggots! This shit'll make you a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus, just like me!" It is a stone-cold fucking classic, and I am not being hyperbolic when I say that.

Sadly, the Predator franchise hasn't had a great go of it on celluloid over the past 20 years. In 1990, Predator 2 was released, and it replaced Arnie with Danny Glover in the lead. Stop to take that in for a minute. Danny. Fucking. Glover. Now, Danny's not a pussy or anything, but Arnie he ain't. The movie did a decent enough job of expanding on the mythology of the Predators, but it certainly left a lot to be desired. Then, in 2004, after a 14 year hiatus, the Predator co-starred in AVP: Alien Vs. Predator, an absolute shit-fest that makes my blood boil. Gone were the slick, stealthy Predators of past movies who were on the hunt for humans, the greatest of all game. In their stead were roided-up Preds who looked more like WWF wrestlers than virile hunters. Fans were outraged by this, and in 2007, AVP-R: Aliens Vs. Predator Requiem was released. While it wasn't as bad as AVP, it was still a pretty fucking miserable excuse for a movie. Instead of being a smart, manly thriller, it was instead a bargain-bin slasher flick with Aliens and Predators taking over the role of Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees. The franchise seemed ready to die an unjust death at the hands of confused filmmakers and stupid screenwriters.

Then, a miracle happened. Robert Rodriguez, the writer/director of such cinematic achievements as Desperado (see, it's funny that my other most-watched movie as a kid was directed by the guy who would go on to redeem a favorite franchise of mine), Sin City, Planet Terror, and From Dusk Till Dawn (which, in fairness, was scripted by Quentin Tarantino), was approached by Fox to produce a script he'd written in 1994 - which was, at the time, deemed to expensive to film - and he immediately agreed. With Rodriguez attached to produce, my hopes immediately sky-rocketed. He brought in Nimrod Antal to direct, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Predators opens up with Royce (a super-beefed up Adrian Brody), a mercenary for hire and former black ops badass, free-falling towards the ground. As he tries to remember how he got there, and what he's doing in the middle of the jungle, he meets up with six other similarly confused, equally well-equipped (save for two) people. Here's a quick rundown of the six characters: Isabelle - an Israeli sniper, Edwin (Topher Grace) - an American doctor, Cuchillo (Danny Trejo, a Rodriguez favorite) - a cartel assassin, Mombassa - an African death squad soldier, Stans - an American serial killer, Hanzo - a Yakuza gangster, and Nikolai - a Russian soldier. It doesn't take long for the seven individuals to realize that they're on an alien planet that is similar to Earth, and they are being hunted by something. They have all been chosen because of their exceptional talents in killing, except for Edwin, who seems awfully out of place among these hardened killers. They have to try to survive long enough to figure out what they're dealing with, and find a way back to Earth. It's a simple plot, and the simplicity works exceedingly well given the movie's central focus on the Predators and their hunting ways.

Movies like this often tend to lose their way and forget that they're made primarily to entertain. Predators is not that type of movie. Instead of sitting around and waxing intellectual and philosophical about their killing ways, the characters quickly understand the gravity of the situation, and are aware of the threat they are dealing with. Rodriguez and Antal simply did a tremendous job of making the Predators not only relevant again, but threatening again. Antal pulls a Spielberg on us by withholding the Predators from view for as long as possible, allowing the suspense to build before letting us see the creatures up close. I was surprised at how badly I wanted to see the Predators, considering I've seen them numerous times over the years. Their reveal is an awesome sequence that will have fans of the franchise smiling gleefully like I did.

Another great thing about the movie is how the Predators' mythology is presented. Through witty dialogue and the Predators' actions, we learn more about them and how proud as a species they are. The hunters adapt and evolve, so much so that the Predators we see here are significantly more dangerous than the ones we've seen in the past. There is a great sequence near the end of the movie which shows how the Predators view dying in battle, or for the hunt, much like the Samurai or Spartans did. They believe in dying an honorable death, and they never back away from a fight. It is an interesting juxtaposition, as it is easy to view them as cowards, since they tend to hide in the camouflage and use weaponry far superior to the game they so vigorously hunt. I did love to see the expansion of their trophy-taking, and their methods got pretty gruesome at times.

I would be remiss as a critic (and I use that term tenuously) if I didn't mention Adrian Brody. The dude got fucking jacked for his role as Royce, and he looks and acts as if he might actually be able to take down a seven-foot tall alien. He wisely avoids the camp and manliness of Arnie's Dutch, and he instead opts for a quiet, calculating man simply trying to survive. I was also happy with Topher Grace's performance as Edwin. I kind of hate Topher Grace - he was abysmal as Venom in Spider-Man 3, and he is, to me, like the male Cameron Diaz; he doesn't do anything to make me hate him, but I do, and every time I see him, I just want to punch him in the face - but he did a good job of lightening the mood throughout the film with various quips and funny moments of pitch black comedy. The rest of the cast does a great job, too, and it was nice to see killers from all over the world and different backgrounds stuck together to try and survive. Danny Trejo's extended cameo was great, as his presence in, well, anything is always welcome. His role as Cuchillo was a nice little primer for his big project Machete, which re-teams him (again) with Robert Rodriguez.

Really, I don't have many complaints about the movie. There were a few pacing problems early on, but I think that was mostly on me because I wanted to see the Predators so badly. On repeat viewings, I don't think it will bother me as much, and it will allow me to focus on all of the little Easter eggs that Antal and Rodriguez littered throughout the film. I sincerely hope that this movie does good at the box office, so Antal and Rodriguez can return for a sequel. They did such a great job of bringing a childhood favorite back to life, and they paid tribute to a classic of the genre without stepping on its' toes or simply emulating what we've seen before. In lesser hands, this would have been a glorified remake, but instead we're given a continuation of a story that started 23 years ago. It's a shame that it took so long for someone to get it right, but I guess I'll take the cliched route and say that all good things come to those who wait (unless you're a Cleveland sports fan... Fuck you, Lebron!). Predators was most assuredly worth the wait.

Lebron James - "The Decision"

I have finally returned to you, my dear blogspot website. After dealing with computer viruses that wouldn't allow me to access you, I'm back, baby! And I'm fucking pissed.

Now, generally, I devote this site to reviews - mostly of movies, but sometimes comics, too. I am deviating from that today. Enjoy.

Some of my fondest memories of growing up involve basketball. Many of those memories included a guy named Michael Jordan. Perhaps you're familiar with him? He's the best basketball player to ever lace 'em up. I remember watching him win his first title against the Magic-led Lakers in 1990. I remember the repeat, and his dominating Game 1 performance against the Trailblazers when he made Clyde Drexler look like he was thinking that he may have chosen the wrong profession. I remember watching Game 6 of the '93 Finals at my Italian grandparents' tiny house, and my grandmother inexplicably stating, "You know, that Scottie Pippen is pretty good-looking for a negro." I remember my grandpa screaming, "Finito, Eddie! Finito!" as he was determined to change the channel, only to have my dad remind him that is was only halftime. I remember cheering crazily as the Bulls finished off the Suns, only half-realizing that MJ was probably going to retire after that. I remember MJ coming back, although with a new number (45), and seemingly less talent the second time around. I remember him proving us wrong. I remember watching the Bulls win their record-breaking 70th game of the '95-96 season against the Bucks in my bedroom on a small TV when I was supposed to be in bed. I remember watching Jordan's "shot" in my living room with my mom and brother, jumping up and down with the energy and excitement generally reserved for those who just won the lottery. I remember getting my ass kicked repeatedly by my brother on the basketball court. I remember, all-too-vividly, my 8th grade Boys Club team's final game of the season, in the championship game. We were up by three with 12 seconds left, and my teammate stole the ball. I ran up the court and caught a great outlet pass. I was being chased down by a much faster defender, and instead of going up for a layup, I pump-faked the fuck out of the kid as he went flying past me, and I gently banked the ball in. We ended up winning by five. Suffice it to say, I have a lot of fond memories of basketball on every level. Fuck, my very first french kiss took place on my basketball court in my backyard! Yeah, I loves me some basketball.

But then, a funny thing happened. I had a foot problem and couldn't play anymore. The excitement of the NBA had dissipated in MJ's absence. I hated Kobe Bryant and the Lakers for winning seemingly every year. I all but stopped watching the NBA, focusing instead on music. A few years later, a funnier thing happened. I was watching "The Daily Show," and they were broadcasting from Ohio due to the political atmosphere of the state. That night, Lebron James was the guest. I watched him, and I enjoyed his candor, his sense of humor, and his level of comfort in an environment most professional athletes don't find themselves. I resolved to catch one of his games with the Cavaliers next season. I watched a game and was immediately impressed. It's hard to describe professional athletes and their talents in words; it's even harder to describe the "it" that only a select few have. Lebron, like MJ before him, most assuredly had "it." I watched a few more games, then a few more, and the next thing I knew, I was a full-blown Cavs fan, watching every damn game I possibly could.

Then the 2007 playoffs arrived, and along with their arrival, came a whole new group of basketball memories, a whole slew of "I remember's..." I remember, for example, his 48 point evisceration of the once-great Detroit Pistons in Game 5. I remember watching, dejectedly, at a bar on my birthday, as the Cavs got pounded by the Spurs in the Finals. I remember, the next year, the elation that I felt when the Cavs made a huge trade for Wally Szcerbiak, Ben Wallace, Delonte West, and Joe Smith. I remember Lebron's Herculean effort in Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Semi's against the Celtics, where Lebron came so close to elevating his team to greatness, only to fail in the closing moments. I remember sitting at a Mexican restaurant in Tacoma, WA, watching Lebron hit the biggest shot of his career to that point, winning the game on a three-pointer as time expired. I remember a lot, of course.

And, because I remember a lot, I will never forget Lebron's narcissistic behavior in the weeks leading up to his decision to join the Miami Heat. It's not just what he did, of course, but it's how he did it. It's how he gave not only my team false hope, but five other teams, as well. Throughout the past three years (in which I missed only a grand total of four Cavs games, by the way), Lebron has flirted with numerous cities including New York and New Jersey. A few years back, he promised to "bring a championship to Cleveland." He has a tattoo that reads, "Loyalty." He always acted like the hot girl that you knew you could never bang, but still sent out signals that she's into you to those other cities. But still, through all of the flirtatious moments, he always made sure it was known that his home was in Ohio, and that he wanted to bring a championship to the city that has been without one since 1964.

Then, after an unceremoniously early exit from the playoffs this year at the hands of the Celtics (and some conspiracy theorists' opinion that Lebron simply gave up), Lebron stopped flirting with everyone. He became a bit of a shut-in. Instead of going on a city-to-city tour of his potential suitors, he held his meetings in a downtown Cleveland office, minutes away from The Q, his basketball kingdom for the past few years. Whether this decision was intentional or not, it sent out a message to basketballs fans and teams alike - you have to convince me to leave my home. All signs pointed to Lebron, a notorious attention-craver, would listen to these enticing offers, but he would, at the end of the day, stay at home and finish what he started.

Then he didn't.

From an emotional standpoint, spurning the Cavs for the Heat hurts. It hurts even more knowing his behavior and words that he's spoken in the past. But the most painful thing? His cold and calculated decision to have a one-hour special dedicated to himself on ESPN, in which he announced his decision to sign with the Miami Heat. Even as the truth started to emerge, nobody actually thought that Lebron would hold a heavily-hyped publicity stunt in which he would shit on his home state, his most ardent supporters, and the franchise that literally did everything in their power to make him happy. The city itself was based on Lebron James. He was the unofficial mayor of the town, the story of the hometown hero who defied the odds, put a broken city on his back, and marched towards greatness with an unshakable determination. Then, he left.

His decision may very well cripple a city that's already on it's knees. That's unfortunate, but his decision also shows how little he truly believes in himself. This is the guy who was supposed to be the next MJ, not the next Pippen. And Pippen, as great of a player as he was, is now Lebron's maximum ceiling as a player and a legend. He gave up the idea of being a King to be a sidekick. Lebron COULD have been great, one of the top three or four players ever to lace 'em up. Now? He'll be really good, and he'll probably win a few rings, but he's never going to be the "Chosen 1," the words he has inked across his back. His legacy is forever tarnished now, for no matter how many rings he ends up with, he'll always be the guy who couldn't win on his own terms. Jordan would never have teamed up with Magic or Bird to win, because he didn't want to just be the best, he wanted to beat the fuck out of the best. MJ didn't have friends - he had opponents. He wanted to destroy every opposing player the moment they stepped on the court, and he could not have lived with himself if he had won championships by compromising himself in the least. That's what separates MJ from the best - he was the best, but he kept getting better.

I can get past the emotional feelings, though. Yes, what he did was a dickhead move. It's probably the biggest asshole moment in sports history; it's definitely the biggest asshole move in my lifetime. But then, it's only a sport. Sports exist to supplement our lives, not to rule them. Emotionally, I'm still pissed, but I'll still cheer for my Cavs, and I'll be okay tomorrow, and the day after that.

Really, what I'm most upset about is the narcissistic behavior displayed by Lebron James throughout this entire process. I'm only 25, and I don't want to be the guy who trashes the media, or seem like a crotchity old man complaining about the loose morals of the young'uns, but I wonder what this type of behavior from a supposed role model will do to the younger minds who love and follow Lebron James adamantly. The example he set last night was this: look out for number one, and don't worry about the consequences of your actions. Be self-inflated. Don't give a fuck about hurting anyone's feelings - this is very important, because I'm not talking about the fans, I'm talking about his teammates whom he'd made promises to, and to the owner of the Cavs, Dan Gilbert, who spent more money than any other owner in the NBA these past few years to give Lebron everything he wanted and needed to win - because, at the end of the day, you've gotta do it yourself. But you don't really have to do it yourself if you've joined up with two other cats who are great at their jobs, too.

Lebron simply hurt his legacy and his brand. That's fine with me, because I don't personally know him, and he's just an athlete at the end of the day. But I'll never forgive his completely self-centered attitude surrounding his decision, and his constant yearning to be the center of attention. His decision, and the mechanics he used to relay said decision, has severely damaged sports, and the NBA in particular. That part really hurts me, too, because I'm a huge fan of the NBA. I hope that this doesn't speed up the process of a looming NBA lockout, and I hope that the acts of a spoiled brat who has never had to be held accountable for everything doesn't sour the sport for other fans.

I hope the Cavs continue to improve in other ways, in Lebron's absence, and I hope that Lebron's signing in Miami urges many other people to pick a team and boo the Heat every time they play.

Lebron wanted to be the biggest story in sports. He got it, but now he's no longer the hero, the messiah, the "King," or the "Chosen 1."

Nope. Now he's a villain. Now, he's just another asshole athlete.