Captain America: The First Avenger

***1/2**
Three and a Half Stars Out of Five

I really wanted Captain America: The First Avenger to be great. I mean, I really really wanted it to be great. So, I was a bit disappointed when it turned out to just be comfortably in between "good" and "very good." It's a bit of a miracle that comic book movies have progressed to the point that an adaptation being "very good" is a disappointment, but that's really how far the genre has come in the last few years. While Captain America: The First Avenger doesn't compete with the modern classics like The Dark Knight and X-Men: First Class (the best damn movie of the summer, people!), it's better than other recent flicks like Iron Man 2, Green Lantern (this is much better than that), X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and a slew of others. For clarification's sake, it's right around the same level of coolness as Iron Man, and The Incredible Hulk. Surprisingly, I think that Thor is Marvel's best movie to date, which is amazing, because Thor, as a character, is not incredibly high on my list of favorites. He's grown on me over the last three years, but he's not on Spider-Man's level, nevermind even being able to compete with Cap.

It is important to note that Captain America: The First Avenger is the final Marvel movie before next summer's highly-anticipated, potentially-orgasm-inducing Avengers flick is released upon the masses. As such, the film is required to serve as a sort-of retroactive bookend to everything that has occurred thus far in Marvel's shared movie universe, and also as an origin story for Steve Rogers, the man who becomes Captain America. While the necessity to include foreshadowing and "look, we're tying into Avengers, here!" type of storytelling isn't nearly as jarring as it was in Iron Man 2 (that movie should, in hindsight, be renamed Avengers: 0.5 Starring Iron Man!), it is clear to see that the filmmakers' hands were tied to an extent. Overall, it does a great job of tying a nice bow on top of the present known as Avengers, but it hurts the standalone film here. It begs the question: Is it okay to hamper a present film's success in order to increase a future film's success? I can't answer that question, and neither can anybody else, but someone should certainly try to, if we're going to continue down this shared universe in film. It's a lot easier in the comic book medium to avoid or ignore plot points in other stories, because comic book fans are geeky enough to fill in the blanks themselves, and with the ridiculous amount of continuity to deal with in comics anyway, we kind of get to choose what we want to accept, and ignore what we dislike. In film, it's not that easy, as the films need to cater to a mainstream audience that can easily digest the stories being told to them in around two hours. I really like the risks Marvel is taking with all of this, but I wonder if, long-term, it's a great idea to purposely hamper their individual franchises for the sake of one uber-franchise. But, only time will tell, eh?

But seriously, my two fans didn't come here to read about my musings on a shared film universe. They came here to read about my opinions on the film. So, I owe it to my (two!) fans ("observers" is probably a better word to use to describe them, but I'm feeling confident today) to actually, y'know, attempt to review the damn movie. So, without further ado...


Everyone should know who Captain America is: he's Steve Rogers, the undersized, overly-sickly young man from Brooklyn who just wants to fight for the Stars and Stripes in WWII. He wants to sock old Adolph right in the kisser, but he can't pass any enlistment tests. He leads a pretty sad existence, as he's too puny to ever get with any ladies, and his best friend, Bucky, is set to ship off for some Nazi-killin'. As luck would have it, Dr. Erskine - a German scientist who has developed a super-serum that can transform people into super-soldiers - overhears Steve talking to Bucky about his obligation to serve his country, and takes Steve under his wing. Soon enough, Steve takes part in an experiment, and he transforms into a sexy, muscular, super-enhanced stud. Before the process can be replicated, Dr. Erskine is killed by a Nazi agent, and Steve is left as the only super-soldier in the world.

Meanwhile, Red Skull is over in Europe getting ready to take over the world, thanks to the Cosmic Cube. His story isn't anything spectacular, but it serves as a way to get Cap into action, and it also does a good job of building into the Marvel Universe as a whole, as the Cosmic Cube has ties to Thor, and all that Norse stuff that we just witnessed a few months back. I wanted more Red Skull evil, but the movie was kind of overstuffed as it was, so hopefully Red Skull is back in the future, and he gets more rounded out, and his villainy really gets a chance to shine.

So, there's the set up. It's a great origin story for any superhero, as Steve Rogers knows what it's like to be the bullied kid, but now he has the power to step up to bullies. In addition to his new powers, he also has to deal with being a one-of-a-kind badass, which allows him to hold onto his alienation. This alienation would, in a lesser man, prove all-encompassing, and eventually ruin that man. With Steve, he's just a super-duper optimist who is a really good person, and just wants to fight evil and wrong-doing any chance he gets. The heart of Steve Rogers is really what it's all about, and Captain America is a hard character for a lot of people to get into. He's a lot like Superman, in that he can be seen as "boring" because he's always the good guy, never makes questionable decisions, and is, in many eyes, "perfect." He's so much different than the Average Joe, and he doesn't have the character issues like Tony Stark (alcoholism, egotism, capitalism), Bruce Wayne (obsession, post-traumatic stress disorder), Peter Parker (life shits on this kid like he's a toilet), Bruce Banner (uncontrollable rage issues), or Thor (he's a god from another fucking dimension, shit gets weird for him all the time). Without any character defects, there isn't much of a character-trajectory for Steve, so I understand why cynics don't like him. But those people are wrong, because superheros should inspire us to be better, and Steve Rogers is the pinnacle of inspiration.


So, with such heavy shoes to fill, the filmmakers needed to be sure to cast the perfect guy for Steve Rogers: a man who is a physical Adonis, has immense confidence, but doesn't project any amount of douchiness. They hit a home run with Chris Evans. Evans perfectly embodies Cap's heart, soul, and physicality. He holds onto his past as a runt without it letting define him as a super-soldier, and he brings no smarm at all to the character, which allows him to be a natural leader for those looking up to him. The costume is brilliant, too, as it has enough of the iconic Cap uniform, while also including enough realism into it to make it all work. Evans is as perfect for Cap as Robert Downey is for Iron Man, and that's not faint praise at all. Marvel has absolutely killed it with their casting of the Big Three of Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Cap, and Iron Man. Avengers could be a giant pile of shit, but it will at least have three great leads.


The rest of the cast is great, too. Hayley Atwell brings the perfect amount of sexiness and toughness to the role of Agent Peggy Carter, and her relationship with Steve is actually believable, as the seeds of attraction are wisely planted before Steve turns into a Sex-God. Hugo Weaving brings just the right amount of camp and flair to the Red Skull, although his character is slightly underutilized. I would have liked to see Red Skull be more ruthless and less mustache-twirlingly evil, but that is forgivable. Tommy Lee Jones actually steals the show as Col. Phillips. The majority of the laughs are thanks to his deadpan delivery, and dickhead-oozing confidence. Stanley Tucci is great as Dr. Erskine, an all-too-brief role that is crucial to the story. Sebastian Stan is perfect for the role of Bucky, although he's criminally underused, and his exit from the story left a lot to be desired. I hope they pick up on that story thread in the future, as Stan has the makings of a star, and there's a lot of dramatic tension there to use wisely. Even Dominic Cooper is pleasant as Howard Stark, Tony's dad who helps create the super-soldier Steve. Although it does make me wonder just how old Howard was when he sired Tony, but whatever. Like I said, the cast is great, but it would all be for naught if Chris Evans was the perfect man for the shield. Thankfully, he brings it all together and carries the show as Cap.


So, it's all a bit of praise, isn't it? Unfortunately, the movie does get bogged down a bit by the exposition, and some of the action scenes are more miss than hit. I wanted more fisticuffs and bad-assery, but I was left with some underwhelming set pieces. I get that hand-to-hand combat wasn't all that popular during the war, but I wanted a bit more Cap as a guy who beats the living shit out of everything in his path and less shooting from afar. I guess I was just disappointed a bit by the amount of action, although there is more action here than in Iron Man, and it's not horrible action. It's just not what I wanted.


The film does have a great look to it, and director Joe Johnston is the primary reason for that. He's a Spielberg disciple, and it shows, as the movie has more in common with Raiders of the Lost Ark than any war movie. It's got a great style that is reminiscent of old-school serials, and while I liked the tone and look, I can see others being disappointed, because most people probably won't recognize that that's what Johnston was aiming for. People don't want Indiana Jones, they want visceral violence. That's sad, but that's just where we're at in today's society.


Ultimately, the flick is just too beholden to the larger universe that it fits in. There's almost too much set up for Avengers, and it ends up hurting the film more than helping it. The ending of the film certainly sets up next summer's second-largest event (sorry, but The Dark Knight Rises is going to be a way bigger deal than Avengers), but what could have been a great character moment is instead just a cliffhanger for a different movie. I really did enjoy the hell out of Captain America: The First Avenger. I did. I thought it was good. I just wanted it to be great.


FYI: There is an Avengers trailer after the movie ends. It's relatively short, about a minute and a half long, and it doesn't show or tell us much of anything. It's a neat little intro, but that's all it is. There are a bunch of random clips of the characters, like the Big Three, Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Black Widow (Scarlet Johannson), and Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson). It's just enough to whet my appetite for the movie next summer. While I don't have an image, or a link to the trailer, I do have something better than that: A gif of Samuel L. Jackson getting eaten by a shark in Deep Blue Sea. 'Til next time.

Top 10 Horror Movies

It's damn near impossible to have been born in the 80's - or at least have come of age in the decade - without having an affinity for horror movies. The 80's was a great time to be a horror buff, as it saw the true birth of the slasher genre, which also meant that you were guaranteed to see a bunch of boobies in between your brutal dispatches. Special effects - the practical ones, not CGI - had gotten to the point where deaths in the movies could be disgustingly visceral, with geysers of crimson splashing across the screen as a buxom brunette was decapitated. It was an awesome time, as movies in the 80's just didn't seem to give a shit about anything more than entertaining. And I had an older brother, seven years my senior, who educated me weekly on the horror flicks of the era, as every Friday night we talked our parents into taking us to a liquor store that also rented movies (damn, I miss liquor stores/gas stations that rented movies... Nothing was so uncomfortable as asking for Care Bears while the old dude behind me was waiting to get his pint of Beam's 8 Star and a porno), and eventually a Blockbuster Video.

So, suffice it to say, I loves me some horror movies. If you don't, you're weird. Thanks to Netflix Instant Stream, I've been watching a lot of shitty horror movies, and I got the idea to write up my top ten favorite horror movies. These aren't necessarily the best horror movies ever made, but my personal top ten, and really, that's all that should matter to you. As far as criteria, I'm avoiding any sci-fi horror, like Alien, and also drama with horror elements like The Silence of the Lambs and Seven (sorry, I'm just not comfortable with typing SE7EN as a movie title). If I were opening it up a bit, the three movies listed above would surely make the list - in the future, I'm going to do a list of favorite movie characters of all-time, and rest assured, Buffalo Bill/Jamie Gumm will make the list - as would Zodiac, but this isn't really a list about heady drama. I'm keeping it to strictly genre efforts.

Without further ado... A list completely unimportant to the world at large:

10.) The Devil's Rejects

I like Rob Zombie. I like his music, and I appreciate his cinematic enterprises. But I love The Devil's Rejects. I remember seeing Zombie in concert when I was 16, and he showed a video of House of 1,000 Corpses whilst playing the song of the same name. I was in awe of the gore in the clip. I couldn't wait to see the movie whenever it was finally released. Then I saw it. And it was a pile of shit. It didn't make any sense, and the acting was so campy that I just couldn't get into the movie at all. And Dwight K. Schrute was turned into a merman. And a hulking Terminator-looking thing went apeshit for a while. And Chris Hardwick - from MTV's Singled Out show (a personal fav when I was a kid... whatever) gets killed. So, when I saw the trailer for a sequel, I rolled my eyes and figured that Zombie was a helluva musician/performer, but he just didn't get film. But a weird thing happened: the reviews were all pretty glowing, so I sacked up, and saw the movie in theaters.

It was one of the most disturbing mainstream movies I'd ever seen, and some of the sequences were a tad hard to watch, not because of the violent content, but because of the violent subtext; this family of misfits raised the question of nurture - could you grow up in a murderous household and not be a murderer? Could you also, while heinously murdering innocent coeds, develop a lot of love and attachment to human life? Zombie focused on those questions in this creepy flick, and the answers aren't easy to digest. Do you feel bad for Otis and Baby, because this is what they've been made, or do you hate them because this is what they've always been? There is also an interesting subplot concerning vengeance, in which the protagonists (or is it antagonists? Zombie, you heady bastard, you!) are tortured by a cop-gone-rogue. Zombie does what so many smart horror movies do - they ask you questions you're afraid to ask yourself, but it doesn't provide you with any answers. Oh yeah, and it's creepy as hell, too.

9.) Dead Alive

I always saw this movie case at the video store growing up, but never really gave it the time of day, because it looked so fucking weird. Finally, I relented when I learned what it was about: a pathetic mama's boy who tries to take care of his zombified mother after she's bitten by a Sumatran Rat Monkey. Peter Jackson directed this oddity before he hit paydirt with his Lord of the Rings opus, and his trademark off-kilter sense of humor really shines, especially during a dinner table scene in which two zombies kinda-sorta start fooling around with one another. At the time of it's creation, it was the bloodiest movie of all-time, and it shows. It's still incredible, given the financial constraints, what the film does, and the low budget even plays to the film's strengths. With a big studio backing it, there is just no way that Jackson could have gotten away with all of the crap he does here. It's an insane movie, and I have a hard time finding the words to due it justice. So, I'll just go with this:

The climax involves a whole helluva lot of zombies and a lawnmower. 'Nuff said.




8.) Texas Chainsaw Massacre

I'll never forget the first time I saw this movie. I was 15, and it was a Friday night. My parents were out of town, and I decided to stay up all night and watch this creepy flick, and the Evil Dead trilogy. After watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I shrugged and thought to myself, 'I don't see what all the fuss is about.' Then, I got the stupid idea to set up our old computer in my room so I could "write a screenplay." So, I headed down to my basement and started rummaging around in the back room for our old Compaq that operated on MS-DOS. While I was down in the basement, I heard a weird noise, and I looked into the dark shadows and got supremely freaked out. I don't know why, but I pictured Leatherface's fat ass running straight at me, and I ran upstairs as quick as I could, then tried to watch Evil Dead and get the image of a disgusting Leatherface out of my head.

Very few movies have ever actually scared the shit out of me, and this is one of them. I didn't think so at the time, but just a while after it ended, the movie snuck up on me, and burrowed it's way into my psyche. After seeing the movie so many times now, I feel that it's due to it's amateurish direction from Tobe Hooper, as it looks more like a documentary than a feature film. I mean that as a compliment, as the lack of a legitimate score makes the murders even more creepy, as the screams from the victims aren't hidden behind anything. It's just screaming, and while I can understand that it gets old after a while, it's also very creepy, as Leatherface hangs some unsuspecting girl on a meat hook. And the dinner table scene? I don't know if I've ever seen anything quite so demented in my entire life. This movie was ahead of it's time in so many ways, and it is still influential in cinema today (look two spots up to see a great imitator...). Any time a movie can creep me out - even the 15 year old version of me - I've got to pay respect to that. And Texas Chainsaw Massacre scared me more than just about any other horror movie I've ever seen.



7.) Dawn of the Dead


Zombies, like Hansel from Zoolander, are sooo hot right now. They have reached a new level of popularity in our culture, thanks to the TV show The Walking Dead, and weird parody books like The Zombie Survival Guide and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. But - and this is where I show how dorky I am - I have loved zombies for about as long as I can remember. The primary reason is because of George Romero, who was at one time an amazing storyteller and also the creator of the zombie genre. As I mentioned above, great horror movies ask us interesting questions, and Romero went through a phase in his film career when all the questions he asked us were in the form of zombie stories. Great horror movies use their stories as subversion, as a way of saying more about our lives than we sometimes think they're capable of. Dawn of the Dead is just such a flick.

The movie starts off with a scene in a ghetto apartment complex, and Romero quickly shines a light on race issues in the '70's - you know, post-Civil Rights when everything was supposed to be equal - and he heavy-handedly hammers home the point of the separation between social classes. It's a startling reintroduction into the zombie landscape he created with Night of the Living Dead ten years earlier, and he doesn't let up. A few survivors eventually make their way to a shopping mall, and Romero shifts his focus away from race relations to humanity's obsession with consumerism. It's all great stuff, an amazing blend of horror and social issues. The climax is absolutely stunning, as the survivors are put into harm's way not from the hordes of undead outside the mall, but rather fellow survivors; this serves to show that humanity's worst enemy is, more often than not, humanity itself. So much has been said about this classic that I don't think I can say much else without stepping on someone else's toes, who have said it much better than I could ever hope. Either way, this is a perennial Halloween experience for me, and it's one that I will always hold dearly to my heart.



6.) A Nightmare on Elm Street

Okay, so not all horror movies are required to have some sort of genius subtext. Sometimes they just have to be fucking creepy. And there have been very few characters created in film over the last 30 years than Freddy Krueger. Sure, he quickly devolved into a catchphrase-spouting caricature, but when he first appeared? He was one creepy mother-shut-yo-mouth. Freddy Krueger was a child molester who was burned to death, only to come back somehow to haunt his murderer's children in their dreams.

Wes Craven created Krueger, and wisely chose to present him as a nightmarish boogeyman, an individual who tormented his victims when they were their most vulnerable - while they were sleeping. Krueger's home - sleepytime - is something that is unavoidable, and is a universal fear. How many times have you wondered whether or not you could die in a dream, and then die in real life? I know it's been at least once.

Then there are the death scenes, which are forever stuck in my mind - there's the scene when Johnny Depp is swallowed by his bed, and a geyser of blood explodes from it, the scene with John Cusack's ex-girlfriend from Better Off Dead, in which she is flung around a bedroom... It's all so creepy and just-on-the-edge-of-impossible that it sticks with you. And I haven't even mentioned the scene in which Nancy is sleeping and Krueger emerges from the wall to observe her. It's a shame that Krueger devolved into such an unmenacing individual, and it's even more shameful that the remake last year was a huge pile of shit. But we'll always have this baby to look back to.

5.) From Dusk 'Till Dawn

I wondered for a few moments what constituted horror movies, and I wondered if a lot of humor would disqualify any movies that I would choose. But then I decided to do whatever I wanted, as I knew my editor (me) wouldn't give a hoot. So there was really no way in hell that From Dusk 'Till Dawn wouldn't make it. I watched his movie every day during the summer of 1996, and I have a feeling that it is one of the primary reasons I am the way I am today. It's directed by Robert Rodriguez, with a script from Quentin Tarantino. Really, what's not to love? Oh yeah, it also has some of the best dialogue in a movie ever, up to (but definitely not including), "Everybody be cool. You be cool," "Come on, Sex Machine!" "All right vampire killers... Let's kill some fucking vampires," and a monologue that uses the word "pussy" roughly 287 times in thirty seconds.

The movie is just incredibly ridiculous, and the plot can be succinctly summed up: a pair of criminals and their hostages hang out in a Mexican strip club for the night, but it turns out that the strip club is operated by vampires. That's basically it, and it is supremely amazing. The set pieces include horribly humorous special effects, and a Mexican bar band whose instruments are made of human body parts(!) - words really can't capture the insanity on display here, and as the years roll on, I find myself loving this flick more and more. The flick served as an introduction of sorts to Tarantino, and it features George Clooney before he was, y'know, George Clooney. There's nothing about this movie I don't love, and that even includes Juliette "Is-She-Actually-Kinda-Retarded?" Lewis.

4.) Scream

This movie is just genius. It really is. There's no other way to truly describe the flick, and to do so would be an insult to the movie itself. Horror was in such a sad state in the mid-90's - maybe as bad as the current horror genre is - that it desperately needed some sort of shot in the arm. Well, Wes Craven thankfully decided that the only way to fix an ailing genre was to completely turn it around. He decided to create a horror movie that was self-aware; it's characters knew the ridiculousness inherent in slasher-flicks, and they were aware of the "rules": Don't say shit like, "I'll be right back," don't have sex if you want to survive, and always be prepared for "one last scare." Scream was my first introduction to post-modernism (I have since fell in love with the literary genre), and also a neat bit of meta-fiction. It certainly didn't hurt that it was funny as hell, too.

But it would all be for naught if it wasn't at least, a little bit, scary. The opening scene certainly succeeds at that, with Drew Barrymore answering her telephone unsuspectingly (I sure hope she sends Craven an awesome Christmas Card every year for salvaging her career), only to have the person on the other end of the phone be a twisted maniac obsessed with horror movies.

What follows is a brisk tale that involves more than a couple high schoolers skewered and disemboweled by a weirdo in a Ghostface mask. Sure, the sequels ("These days, ya gotta have a sequel!") met with varying degrees of success - Scream 2 and Scream 4 were both pretty great, but Scream 3 made me want to dig out my own eyeballs - but this movie reinvented the horror genre for a whole new generation, and it made sure that it would never be the same again. It's just a shame that someone, somewhere, got the stupid idea to remake a bunch of Japanese horror movies into absolute shit, and someone else got the stupid idea to start the Saw franchise. While Scream's success has largely been forgotten now thanks to PG-13 crapfests and torture porn, I'll never forget this masterpiece for what it was - a smart, funny, and pretty damn scary horror movie.

3.) Night of the Living Dead

Anybody living outside of Haiti had no idea what a zombie was in 1968. Sure, I'm being hyperbolic, but it's pretty true - outside of Haitians, zombies were largely unknown. Until George Romero showed up. And the zombies he created weren't like the hypnotized zombies in Haitian lore; these things were recently-deceased flesh-eaters who could only be put down by effectively destroying the brain. Romero will never, ever, ever, ever be forgotten for creating the zombie subgenre, and even though it's been 43 years since he started it all, nobody has ever come close to making a better zombie movie.


I'm a fan of unknowns in horror. I don't like knowing why a serial killer is deranged and I don't like knowing why zombies are walking the Earth. It's unimportant exposition. It's scarier not knowing. And Romero uses that to his advantage, not ever letting us know why the dead have risen and are now munching on brains. Instead, he focuses on a select group of survivors - surprisingly led by a black man - who take refuge in a farm house while the dead try to break their way inside. Early on, Romero unleashes a standard zombie-flick trope, that is still used heavily today - it's not really the zombies we need to worry about, it's the fellow survivors. People are capable of a lot of dastardly shit, and when the dead rise up, well, you can only expect the bad apples to turn really rotten. The subtext of having a black man as the de facto "leader" of the survivors takes on incredible power at the end of the film, as Romero basically asks the audience, "Can even the apocalypse get people to stop acting like dickheads?" with the obvious answer, "Nope."

I firmly believe that Night of the Living Dead was a product of it's time. It was made in 1968, right near the end of the Hippie movement. Individualism was a very important aspect of counter-culture society, and Night of the Living Dead was made for the counter-culture. For individualists, the zombie hordes becomes the most menacing thing imaginable - a group of hundreds of individuals all exactly the same, with the exact same thing on their minds (BRAINS!!!) trying to "recruit" you to be just like them. I am of the mind that all zombie movies are ultimately about society at large trying to subvert you into becoming just like them, and it all started thanks to Romero and his crazy ideas about some flesh-eating weirdos.

2.) Halloween

Any movie that single-handedly creates a genre of film which features copious amounts of fornication, big-breasted coeds, and psychotic masked men on the hunt of blood is certainly a flick that I'm going to be a fan of. My love of zombie movies has been well-documented thus far, but the slasher genre has got to be a close second. There's a really good chance that, if not for zombie movies and slashers, I would have spent my time growing up playing varsity sports, hooking up with hot babes at discos, and getting voted "Most Likely to Have Three Children by Graduation" by my classmates. Good thing that didn't happen! Instead, my weekends were dominated with trips to video stores and watching stupid teenagers get all sortsa murdered by psychopaths in hockey masks and such. The probability of me siring illegitimate children stayed at a healthy .0078% thanks to slasher flicks, and that can only be a good thing, right? So what if it also kept the possibility of me ever seeing a naked woman  in reality at the same low odds?

The first, and best, slasher ever is still one of my favorite movies of all-time. Everyone knows who Michael Meyers, the crazed psychopath from Halloween, is. He's a voiceless, faceless being who murdered his sister at a young age, and then escaped from an insane asylum years later to return home. I don't love this movie because of some intelligent subtext, or the high-class of acting; nope, I love it because it is about nothing more than a crazed psycho stalking teenagers and killing them. A lot of critics hold this from being a masterpiece because of how it treats the teenagers - as oversexed dullards who lack the most common of senses. That, ladies and germs, is why I love the damn thing so much. Without Halloween, who knows if I ever would have been able to experience great cinematic moments like a big-tittied blonde running naked through the woods, or a teenage girl being slammed against a tree in a sleeping bag by Jason Voorhees? While the Friday the 13th series arguably perfected the slasher genre (no movie franchise ever did a better job of exploiting teenage girls in death scenes), Halloween gave birth to it all, and for that it will always have a spot in my heart.

The best part of it all, of course, is Michael himself. Nobody knows why he's evil. Nobody knows why he wants to stab a dork dressed as a ghost to the wall and then wear the ghost costume to go kill the naked girl upstairs. Nobody knows why he wants to eviscerate Jamie Lee Curtis. And nobody cares. He's got one goal, and one goal only. And sometimes, that's all you need in a horror movie, so long as it's done well. Also, the movie has one of the best theme songs of all time, competing with The Exorcist for esteemed title of "This-Song-Makes-Me-Want-to-Shit-My-Pants." Like so many other great horror franchises, the story of Michael Meyers quickly went to hell (and not the scary one, the stupid, un-fun one) with horrendous sequels that don't add anything of consequence. Of course, the franchise was remade a few years ago (by Rob Zombie), and while the remake - and the sequel - wasn't hugely disappointing (I actually quite enjoyed them, but I'm a sucker for horror, after all), nothing can compete with the original.

1.) The Lost Boys

This wasn't even a debate.

What do you get when you mix vampires, an amusement park, a greased-up saxophonist, the Coreys, and a kick-ass soundtrack (Cry Little Sister still rocks)? You get The Lost Boys. Of course, The Lost Boys could never have been made in another decade - it is certainly an '80's movie, but that is one of the reasons it is so awesome. It features ageless bad-ass vampires who sleep all day and party all night (in addition to drinking blood, of course) dressed up as punk-rockers and have an underground lair with a giant Jim Morrison poster. Please tell me how I'm not supposed to love this movie?

And I haven't even gotten to the cast yet. There's Jason Patric (at his most devilishly handsome) as Michael, the new guy in town who accidentally becomes a kinda-sorta vampire by trying to fit in with the cool crowd. There's Corey Haim as his dorky little brother with an obsession with comic books (sounds like me...) and an awesome dog named Nanook. There's Kiefer Sutherland as David, the uber-cool vampire. There's Jamie Gertz as the smokin-hot Star, who Michael wants to bone (and, as an aside, she served as my first ever real-girl crush, taking the torch from the animated April O'Neil). There's Corey Feldmann as one half of the Frog Brothers, dudes who run a comic book store and moonlight as vampire hunters(!). The movie has a cast to kill for, as seemingly everybody in the damn movie has met with some sort of fame. Even the dude who's not Ted from the Bill and Ted series of movies is in it (his name is Alex Winter, but I figured nobody knows his real name but me), and the grandpa from Blossom. I'm sure there have been better casts in movies before and since, but there is something unavoidably cool about this cast, and it makes the movie all the more enjoyable. I'm sure that when the film went into production, Charlie Sheen was snorting a line of coke off of a prostitute's hindquarters and was cursing Joel Schumacher for not including him in this masterpiece.

The movie isn't really "scary," but it counts as horror because of the subject matter. Mostly, it's just super-cool and fun. There's only one real scene that counts as "creepy," and that includes Chinese food, worms, and maggots. There's also a decently cool scene that involves a Buff Bagwell-type and his lady friend (who is reading a "Sad Sack" comic book) getting the roof of their car ripped off, then being pulled into the dark night sky, but nothing that will keep you up at night. The scene in which Bill from Bill and Ted gets killed garners the most suspense, but again, you're not going to have nightmares over these vampires. Maybe sex-fantasies, but that's it. Now, these vampires aren't pussified like the Twilight douches - they don't glisten like diamonds, don't look like they have irritable bowels, and actually kill people - but they're not overly scary in presentation.

Of course, what really pushes the whole film over the top is the one scene early on in which a saxophonist covered in baby oil rocks the fuck out of the amusement park/earthquake zone/concert venue. Tim Capello, the most ludicrous individual I've ever witnessed, looks like a coked-out Nick Manning (porn enthusiasts shall get this here reference) or perhaps Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake if he traded out his trimming sheers for a saxophone. I struggle to even find words to describe the man in all of his greasy glory. He is a man who deserves recognition, though. I don't think a statue (with baby oil dispensers) being erected alongside the Hollywood sign is too much for this gentleman. The GIF of good old Timmy above is pretty much the most beautiful thing ever, although for your viewing pleasure, I will also include a link so you can watch the sensual gyrating goodness the way it's meant to be enjoyed - to the mellifluous sounds of Mr. Capello's brilliant saxophone and vocals. You are welcome in advance.

Just watch the fucking movie.

Musings on "I Spit on Your Grave" (2010)

So, this film is impossible to rate. It is one of the few movies I have ever seen that completely defies categorization as good or bad. It's impossible to actually recommend the movie, as I feel like a twisted fucker for even watching the damn thing, and I could only feel like a sadist if I went around telling people to watch it.

But here's the catch: It's kind of worth watching.

It's unequivocally disturbing and difficult to watch - especially the first 45 minutes - but it does raise some questions, and unlike many other flicks of this ilk, it actually has a pretty awesome payoff. I don't know how many times I've suffered through horrible scenes of torture with the hopes of having some sort of visceral catharsis only to reach the climax of the film and me responding with, "Really? That's it?" in a completely pissed off manner - I'm looking at you, remake of Last House on the Left. At least with the remake to the 1978 exploitation classic of the same name, I Spit on Your Grave, offers a "reward" for dealing with the vicious rape/torture sequences. There's a payoff for watching what I consider to be the most dastardly of crimes to be committed - rape. Of course, you can make the argument that pedophilia is just as bad, if not worse, and I'm not one to argue over that. They're both disgusting and the less I have to think about both of those actions, the better of I believe I will be.

So, I'm not going to write up a review of I Spit on Your Grave, because it's just too tough. Instead, I'm going to try something a bit new, where I kind of just throw up some bullet-point-style ideas that I had whilst watching the movie, and some other observations I made about the flick. Think of it as a retroactive viewing diary, or something like that. I hope it's worth your time; hell, I hope it's worth my time. But, as a certain pothead once said to a certain teacher during a certain speed of time at a certain high school, "If I'm here, and you're here, doesn't that make it our time?" Indeed. So, let's have at it then, shall we?

Random observations whilst watching I Spit on Your Grave:

- Any type of rape-movie should be watched with at least one other person, preferably someone you can talk to and make jokes of some sort during endless rape scenes. It helps you avoid the pain of enduring such a sequence.

- I know it's a movie, but do real girls (I know so few...) really think it's a good idea to go off into the middle of hillbilly heaven to write a novel at some dilapidated cabin? Alone? Really?!?!

- Do girls, stupid enough to actually go ahead and decide to do the above, really think it's a good idea to insult a hick hitting on you at some gas station that looks like it was made to teach young inbred men how to properly rape women? Especially when he's surrounded by Greaseball-Hick-Fonzi and Minnesota Fats' retarded great-nephew?

- Before I die, I want to watch one horror movie in the cell phone-era that doesn't have a crucial plot point hinge on the fact that the cell phone has been somehow compromised. I'm so fucking over cell phones not having reception in certain areas (it's 2011, even fucking Antarctica has reception by now). At least Jennifer stupidly drops her phone in the toilet, and they don't rely on the "no reception" excuse, but still... It's frustrating. Might as well just have the phone smashed right away, or something like that. It really gets to me. This is why I love pagers; they never fail you when you need them the most. That, and I like to wear them on my upside down visor.

- People down south have got to be the dumbest people in America. I know I'm profiling, but they just sound horrible. Really, it's disgusting. Nothing grosses me out more than people with southern accents; it doesn't help that the majority of them have some sort of confederate flag regalia on themselves or pickup trucks at all times. Southern folk wanna know why everyone else in the country thinks they're so stupid? IT'S BECAUSE YOU STILL HAVE CONFEDERATE FLAG REGALIA, DUMBFUCKS!!!!! I don't know if they're so stupid to think that slavery is actually okay, or if they're just so fucking stupid that they think that the confederate flag has some sort of symbolism about individuality. Either way, they're fucking morons, and the sheer fact that confederate flags even exist is disgusting and deplorable. Oh, and the accents are disgusting. I know some really smart, intelligent people come from the south; one of my favorite writers of all time, Mark Twain, is from that area, but it still doesn't deter me from thinking they're all pretty stupid.

- Even sheriffs in the south are scumbags.

- When did rape scenes in movies get to be so fucking long? I remember watching Cape Fear when I was like six, and DeNiro bit that chick's ear off, then the scene just kind of faded to black. As a six year old, I thought two things: 'Why the fuck are my parents letting me watch this?' and 'Holy shit, that is the scariest man in the world!' But that scene was perfect - it let you know what the hell was going on, but Scorsese didn't force you to watch the rape uncomfortably. And it worked. Now, any time I watch a movie that has a rape scene, it seems to last like 1/3 of the movie's run time. I don't get it at all; the scenes cannot be fun to shoot - it's got to be uncomfortable to be the male actor, pretending to rape a woman violently and all that, and I suspect it's even less fun for the woman. But what do I know? I do know that it is unpleasant to view such extended scenes of violent rape, and I will never understand the need to make these scenes ridiculously long.

-The only conceivable way to avoid murder after a rape in a movie nowadays is throwing yourself into a river.

- I'm slightly disappointed that this movie doesn't feature a "rape shower." You know, the scene in a Lifetime movie where a woman is violated, and then feels that the only way to properly express their trauma is to take a steaming hot shower while in the fetal position. It's such a staple in shitty movies that feature female violation, and while I understand it's wrong to make jokes about rape showers, I can't also help but think that it's wrong to make a movie for Lifetime. My girlfriend will kill me if she ever reads this. Good news for me: She never reads these.

- It's never a good idea to videotape a rape in a movie. It will come back to haunt you. And, if you're fat, you may very well have to try to eat the tape. I wonder if, upon digestion, the tape becomes unspooled and you have to poop for like forty five minutes whilst celluloid exits your rectum.

- Yeah, people down south are stupid. And disgusting.

- There's a mentally challenged individual in the movie who is forced to take part in the rape. Jennifer gets revenge on him, and I can't help but wonder whether or not it's okay to kill a mentally challenged individual for raping you (or someone else).

- Is there a punishment that a rapist doesn't deserve? It's a great question that the movie kinda-sorta pauses to ask the audience, but doesn't really care all that much about. I've never been raped, and I will never know what it is like to be a woman in that position, as I am a man (I feel the need to remind people daily that I'm a man), but I have a hard time believing that torturing a rapist in a myriad of ways could ever be conceived as "going too far." It is an incredibly disgusting action, and prison is too nice for these scumbags. I don't know if it would be very helpful for a rape victim to torture her tormentor(s), but I gotta say, it would be interesting to see what some people could come up with.

- Fishhooks through eyelids is disturbing, yet pretty damn awesome in this flick. In all my weird conversations with friends, this has never come up, surprisingly, but man it's gross. Kudos to the filmmakers for thinking up something so disturbing. Fish guts in the eyes of the victim is even more gross, as it allows birds to come eat his eyeballs out. Don't know how realistic that is, but it's yucky. And a decent form of revenge.

- I love that greaseball-hick-Fonzi is contrapted in the bathtub like that. It's an amazing test of endurance that he inevitably fails, and it's gotta suck to know that you're too weak to keep yourself from falling in acid. Yucky.

- I wonder when movies will simply stop pulling teeth out during torture scenes. I have thought, for a while, that it would be way more gruesome (and disturbing) to simply use pliers to not remove the teeth forcibly, but to rather crush them while they're still in the mouth. That would hurt soooo bad.

- Well, this marks the first time I've seen a man's penis - or other genitalia, I'm not too positive if it's testicles as well - removed and then shoved into his mouth. Nice and twisted.

- Shotgun up a sheriff's ass? Now I've seen everything. I feel bad for the sheriff actor, as now his resume must read, "Victim who was anally raped by a shotgun." He just kissed his chance good-bye at a guest-starring spot on House.

- People from the south still disgust me.

I don't know if I have much more to say about this movie than all of this. I am not going to tell you to watch it, and I'm not going to tell you to avoid it. My audience (of two... I'm growing in notoriety, suckers) doesn't really use my advice anyway, so I'm going to leave it in your hands. Be warned, though, if you watch this movie, you might not like what you see. And if you do like what you see, start saving up for a psychiatrist. Weirdo.

Transformers: Dark of the Moon

*****
Four Stars Out of Five

Sorry I've been away for a while, ladies and germs. It's been a relatively busy summer for me, what with weddings, shitty movies, decent movies, disappointing movies, good comics, bad comics, music, and other less-important facets of life. Frankly, I've been coasting by a bit whilst I deal with the hugely personal loss of the NBA now that the Finals are over. It's been tough, thanks for asking, but I'm coping with it thanks to WWE and Netflix. 

I almost wrote reviews for both Super 8 and Green Lantern, but I found it to not be worth my time. Sadly, I didn't have much to say about Super 8, as it was a good movie, but I felt a little disappointed in it. I felt it could have been much more than it was, but I still enjoyed it. The review would have been boring to write, and even worse, boring to read. I would never put my faithful audience (of one) through that. Green Lantern, on the other hand, was just the most mundane, boring, disappointing thing I've seen in quite some time. The movie cost $300 million to make, and it didn't show. At all. It was just campy and ineffectual, which is lame, because I'm a big fan of Green Lantern, and I wanted to see the movie be a success. Oh well.


Anyway, Transformers: Dark of the Moon. Well, before I really get going on this bad boy, I'm going to digress for a moment to bitch about the "fans" which will crucify this movie because it "raped their childhoods" or some stupid melodramatic shit like that. Already people are vilifying Michael Bay for making a shitty movie that looks good but has no plot at all.

Give. Me. A. Fucking. Break.


I wonder if all these fans recognize that the only reason their Transformers cartoon from the '80's exists was for the sole purpose of selling a veritable fuckload of toys.To expect high cinema from a franchise that was created to sell as many toys as possible is not only naive, it's foolish and sad.


I get that it's harder to be a geek today than ever before, because everyone that made fun of geeks for reading comic books in school are now shelling out their hard-earned cash to watch movies based on the characters they made fun of us for loving growing up. I get it. Trust me, I have a hard time believing that a bro whose wardrobe consists of Ed Hardy regalia and has never opened a comic book in his life can enjoy The Dark Knight in the same capacity as I do, but I could really give a shit less. I think that's what it's all about at the end of the day - geeks feel like they've been betrayed and that their secret club of outcasts has been invaded due to all these things that have been created for mass consumption. But get the fuck over it. Without regular people shelling out their money for these movies, they would not exist. The geek community just isn't big enough to sustain hundred-million-dollar-plus franchises; there needs to be regular Joe's in the theaters in order for these movies to even exist. Sorry, but that's how it is. Either stop watching these movies that you've already decided to hate, or learn to accept what is out there, and enjoy it for what it is. And, in the case of Transformers: Dark of the Moon, that means accepting an awesome action movie that's low on characterization and incredibly high on amazing special effects and a greatest-hits-collection of balls-out action sequences.


So, rant over. Now, for the real review, I s'pose.


Dark of the Moon opens with the Apollo 11 mission to the moon. Thank God for revisionist history! Turns out, the whole space race of the 60's was due to the discovery of something landing on the moon. Turns out, that something was a Cybertronian and a bunch of other weird shit that, frankly, makes kinda-sorta sense, but isn't all that important to the overall plot. The major plot revolves around getting a fuckload of robots in downtown Chicago for a good old fashioned donnybrook to decide that fate of the world, or some shit like that.


Meanwhile, after this opening - that is surprisingly well-handled, minus a couple of fishy CGI appearances from JFK and Nixon - we move on to see Sam (Shia LaBeouf) living with his hot British girlfriend, Carly (Rose Huntington-Whitley, a former Victoria's Secret model and future DiCaprio conquest, I'm guessing) in DC. He was dumped by Mikaela (Megan Fox, who isn't around in this flick) for reasons never truly mentioned. They survived two (count 'em, two!) alien invasions as a couple, only to have the relationship fizzle out. What a bitch! Either way, his new girlfriend is cute, and loaded, and has a sexy accent, so that's cool. He's living off of her income, as he's a recent college graduate, and has yet to find a job.


There's actually a pretty interesting subplot with Sam here, as he's struggling to be a man accepted among the people whose lives he's saved twice, and he clearly misses being important. I mean, it's gotta be hard to live a normal 9-to-5 existence after you have a giant alien robot for a first car, and shit. I get it, and LaBeouf is entertaining and endearing enough to continue to make Sam a fun character. But still, nobody is paying the entrance fee because they're dying to know what Sam is up to. Nope, they all want to see big fucking robots fucking shit up nicely.


The Autobots, meanwhile, are working in cahoots with the U.S. government, looking for any remaining Decepticons, and protecting American liberty, or something. They are attacked in Ukraine by a giant centipede-like Decepticon, and the cat gets let out of the bag, as the Autobots learn that there was a Cybertronian space craft that landed on the moon in the '60's. Optimus heads up to the moon and retrieves the robot up there, and it turns out to be Sentinel Prime, an Autobot from Cybertron who left the planet amidst their civil war to supposedly find a new planet. He's resuscitated, and a bunch of other shit happens which leads to Decepticons getting their hands on some of the shit from the moon which creates a space bridge. Ultimately, they want to use said space bridge to bring Cybertron to the Earth and start over again. The only thing standing in their way? A bunch of badass Autobots and some hardcore American soldiers, and Sam and his purty girlfriend.


Listen, the plot is less confusing than Revenge of the Fallen (I still don't really know what the fuck that movie was about... an old robot wants to do something with the Pyramids in Egypt, or something), but it's still pretty damn convoluted considering the movie is really just an excuse to watch giant alien robots duke it the fuck out for two-plus hours. There are certainly a lot of plotholes, but it's nothing that ruined my enjoyment of the movie. I just want to be entertained by these movies, not scratch my head over the great moral quandaries of our time. I am entirely okay with a shoestring plot that pushes us from one action sequence to the next, so long as the proceedings are brisk and entertaining. Thankfully, much of the stupid humor from the first two movies are gone, although there are still moments of head-scratching stupidity, but at least there are no leg-humping robots this time around, and John Turturo's character has had his insanity-dial knocked down to a healthy four, when in the last two it was up to about 19.


Sadly, the so-fucking-racist-they-might-as-well-be-wearing-blackface robots Skids and Mudflaps are nowhere to be seen this time around. That's right, I said sadly. I loved those two offensive shits! I am most assuredly not black, and I wholeheartedly understand anyone who might be offended by the two characters in Revenge of the Fallen, but I am a huge fan of awkward situations spurred on by awkward attempts at legitimate humor, so I loved the little shits. I don't believe that they were consciously being racist with the robots, but they sure as shit were, and I got a kick out of them. I will never forget watching Revenge of the Fallen in theaters, and noticing an audible gasp from half the theater when one of the two robots proclaims, "We don't read much." The disgust in the theater was absolutely palpable, and I loved it for some strange reason. Also, there are no robot scrotums this time 'round, which I'm also kind of sad about. Michael Bay, a man who cares not for the word 'restraint,' somehow exercises some in this flick, and while it does provide for an overall more coherent movie, it robs me of my precious awkward humor, and for that... I'm a little pissy about.


I know this review sounds like I'm shitting on the movie, but really, I absolutely loved it. It's just impossible to take these movies too seriously, and I'm going to enjoy the ridiculousness of it all as opposed to being stuck up my own ass. All I wanted were great action sequences, some cheap laughs, and awesome 3D presentation. I got all three. The action was great, as always, and Optimus Prime and his Autobot cohorts really kick some ass this time around. Even though the plot is kinda silly, the Decepticons are actually threatening, and they kill a lot of innocent people (in scenes slightly reminiscent of War of the Worlds). There is actually something palpable at stake here, and even if it is eye-rollingly stupid, it does give the film some sort of heft, of some type of consequence to what's going on.
 
Once the action shifts to Chicago, everything really amps up. The last hour is essentially one extended action set piece which is just beautiful to observe. It's fucking crazy. Buildings get torn apart, robots get murdered, people are dissolved, Leonard Nimoy's voice argues with Hugo Weaving's voice, Sam Witwicky practices parkour, and some soldiers glide through downtown Chicago like they're flying squirrels. The wingsuit scene is absolutely mindblowing, and is seriously worth the price of admission. Watching the sequence in 3D gave me a touch of vertigo, and I was astonished to see this in action; to know how it was filmed only makes it all the more impressive (look it up on youtube. It's insane!). I hate 3D, but I will say that if you do not see this movie in 3D, you're doing yourself a true disservice. It is at least as visually amazing as Avatar, and that is saying something.


So, there you have it. I loved the movie. It was outrageous, over-the-top, gratuitous, awesome, fun, and completely unnecessary. It is absolutely an American piece of entertainment, and you could do a helluva lot worse for entertainment over the 4th of July weekend. I could say some obligatory thing about how the real fireworks this July 4th are at Transformers: Dark of the Moon, but I will spare you from such silly cliches. 


If you liked the first two, you'll love the third one. And if you hated the first two, well, you've already made up your mind about this one, haven't you?


Me, I'm comfortable enough with my own immaturity to love watching robots battle each other senseless for a few hours.

The 2011 NBA Champions Are Not the Miami Heat...

It's the Dallas Mavericks!

And, boy, am I happy with that. As a troubled Cavaliers fan, I had to deal with a year-long lashing from damn near everybody I know. I heard it all, from the uninformed chumps giving me shit, and justifying Lebron's "punk move" of "The Decision" to others playfully jabbing my dedication to a hurting franchise. The moment Lebron announced he was shipping off to Miami, I proclaimed that I would never stop loving my Cavaliers, but now I was also a fan of 29 teams in the NBA. I didn't care who won, so long as it wasn't the Miami Heat.

As it turns out, I got my wish in the form of a rejuvenated Dallas Mavericks squad who quietly put together a highlight reel of "Y'know-these-guys-are-good-enough-to-win-the-whole-thing" throughout the playoffs. I've always loved Dirk Nowitzki - it's kind of hard for an unathletic white boy like me to not support a tall unathletic white man in a sport dominated by athletic freaks - so it just happens to be a happy coincidence for me that the team I so badly wanted to get beat was beaten by one of the few teams I actually wanted to see win the championship.

It's great that Dirk got his revenge against the Heat, the team that beat him in the 2006 NBA Finals, but beating the three-headed monster of Lebron-Wade-Bosh has cemented Dirk's place in "Bad-Ass Heaven," right alongside MJ, Mike Tyson, Carl Weathers, and Clint Eastwood. He, frankly, did things on the court in the Finals this year that simply shouldn't be done. No, there were no crazy high-flying antics like MJ's turning a dunk into a layup in mid-air, but the shots he hit, the comebacks he orchestrated, the leadership he showed, and the dedication to win are what NBA Legends are made of. Dirk has finally exited the long-dreaded "Great Player Without A Ring" circle - g'bye, Chuck and Karl! - and has taken his place alongside Alpha Dog Champions like MJ, Shaq, Kobe, and Duncan. Nobody can doubt that this guy was THE player this postseason, and nobody can even begin to question that his team earned the championship through great play and the old classic "Never-say-die" attitude. Dirk won the Finals, and the Finals MVP, on his terms, doing his things, and kicking everyone else's ass in his way. It was, simply, inspiring.

Unfortunately, a lot of that is going to go unnoticed by the masses, because the sexier story is that the Miami Heat failed. I am going to plead guilty to that as well, because now I am going to talk about their failure and just how much I enjoyed watching it all.
It's hard to describe how much I enjoyed watching this. I almost feel bad about it; I certainly feel like something is wrong with me for delighting in the professional failure of someone else, but I suppose that is just the nature of sports. It's logically illogical - it elicits responses in us that don't make sense, for reasons that are ridiculous, yet we still feel them anyway. I vividly remember last July, as I was wearing my Lebron jersey over top of my Lebron MVP shirt, watching "The Decision," and then being shit on as he announced he was taking his talents to South Beach. I dejectedly took both the jersey and shirt off, and unlike many of my fellow Cavaliers fans, I didn't burn them in a mass effigy to the basketball gods. Rather, I took all my Lebron regalia and put it into a box and gave it to Goodwill. I figured there was a certain irony to giving up all that stuff to a place named "Goodwill," as Lebron had certainly wasted any of the good will he had built up with me. Years of not missing a Cavs game, watching in awe as he exploded for 48 points against the Pistons in '07, going bat-shit insane in Seattle when he hit the game-winning three against the Magic in the 2009 playoffs, supporting him through his choke-job against the Celtics, all gone in an instant when he betrayed my team.

He wasn't dead to me, and I never wished him bodily harm (well, not really, I may have muttered a few, "I hope he blows his fuckin' ACL"s every now and then, but never seriously). But I wanted him to lose every game ever because not only was he not on my team anymore, he shit all over it. He left my favorite franchise in a hole, with no chance to better itself because he had to be a prima donna and be the last one of the coveted free agent class to make his announcement. He just had to be the "Belle of the Ball," because he's Lebron James, and that's what Lebron James does. He made incredulous demands to the franchise, and every step of the way, they bowed to the "King," in some twisted version of "Pretty Girl dates Regular Guy," in which the Regular Guy does everything he can in order to keep the Pretty Girl from leaving him. Turns out, the Pretty Girl left anyway. But not before ensuring that the Regular Guy was, for all intents and purposes, impotent for the forseeable future. It's one thing to break our hearts, but to do so to a fanbase that knows heartbreak better than anyone, and to also ensure that no improvements can be made, just seemed malicious. I doubt that it was; I don't think Lebron James thinks in that way, I think he just worries about himself, which I suppose is fine, but still sucks. But it definitely felt that way, and for that, I will never root for him again. I'm sure he'll get over it, but he's not getting any more of my money - no Lebron shoes for me, ever, no Lebron memorabilia at all, thanks, see ya, dick.

So, he was gone. In Miami. Whatever.

Wait, they're having a party? They haven't even played a fucking game yet!

And that's where the real hate started to build. Lebron James was always polarizing, but when he started celebrating with his new team before anything was won ("Not one, not two, not three..."), then lots of non-Cavs fans started to take notice. His dickish, immature attitude started to spread to his teammates. The things he said and did were amplified, because now everyone expected him to be great constantly, and to be the kind of guy MJ was - a killer on the court, and a perceived sweetheart off of it - but he wasn't. He was still just an immature kid who said and did stupid shit.

It's hard for me, and many other people, to follow a sport so closely and not start to get a feel for who the players we watch really are. I know a lot of people who watch basketball, but not like I do, and don't have the same feelings towards Lebron as I do. That's fine, but when you spend three to four hours a night watching basketball for eight months out of the year, and spend another hour or so reading about the league at large, you start to connect to certain players and dislike others. Lebron is certainly in the latter camp for me now, because, again, he's not on my team, and I dislike his actions. Nevermind the fact that he proved to be a sidekick and not a superduperstar - watch these Finals and tell me otherwise. You can't. You just can't. He started douchily tweeting about karma when the Cavs lost by 45 points to the Lakers, he started mocking other players, and he beat up on the bad teams while routinely laying eggs against the good ones.

He became a villain in the nation's eyes, even if he didn't see it himself. Then, it seemed like he was enjoying the villain role, which could have been cool for me as a sports fan, if I thought for a minute he could sustain it. Guys like Isiah Thomas are suited for the villain role, assholes who want to eat your heart for breakfast and just win. Lebron James wants to be an icon, a billionaire, so his heel turn is just another calculated move that backfired on him. As the playoffs began, he started talking about how he didn't care what people thought of him, and was going to let his play do the talking. That would have been fine if, y'know, he didn't fucking TALK ABOUT IT ALL THE DAMN TIME. If you watched closely enough, I swear you could see him trying to figure out why he is so hated. It would be sad if it weren't so pathetic. He is a man who is accustomed to being told he is great, whose image is so manicured that it's perfectly inauthentic to anyone who pays attention. Think Paris Hilton except a basketball player, and you're on the right track.

Then, I started to get hopeless. The Heat were literally destroying their opponents in the Playoffs. 76ers? Check. Celtics? I really wanted old-school ball to prevail, but it wasn't meant to be. Bulls? Too young and inexperienced... And Lebron manhandled them. The Mavericks were the last obstacle, and nobody believed they stood much chance against the might juggernaut of Lebron-Wade-Bosh. I picked the Mavs in seven games, more out of a sense of hatred towards the Heat than firm belief in the Mavs. But still, I felt if there was one team that could beat the Heat, it was the Mavs, because the Heat do such a tremendous job of packing the paint defensively, and are so good in the open court, but the Mavs don't score a lot in the paint, and have a great defense once they get set up.

Game Two is when I finally believed. Like, "Holy-shit-they-can-actually-win-this." Because the Mavs just didn't quit, they kept going. And the Heat, the immature, fickle bunch that they are, just get lost when they're not destroying their opponents.

It's like Mike Tyson used to say, "Everyone's got a plan until they get punched in the face." Fuck, that should be the epitaph for the Heat's 2010-2011 season, as they caved in as soon as the Mavs landed one on their proverbial kisser. Like real champions, the Mavs didn't expect to win; they knew they had to earn it. They knew they were the underdogs, and pushed themselves to prove everyone wrong. They wanted it more, plain and simple.

Which is quite telling when examining Lebron's career, especially this Finals series. When Lebron left Cleveland to go to Miami, it seemed to be an implicit confession that he did not want to earn it on his own. He wanted, like so many young, immature screwheads, to have greatness handed to him. He didn't want to work to be the best, he just wanted the spoils of being the best. What better way to do that than to join up with a couple of all-stars? You could tell, again, if you paid attention to the games and the player's body language, in Game Four that Lebron was screwed. He played a shitty game, but he looked disinterested, like he would rather be anywhere else in the world than in that pressure cooker of a situation. Again, this is fine for most people, but if you want to be the best player in the world, if you have "Chosen 1" tattooed across your back, and you refer to yourself as "King," well then you gotta want that. You gotta crave that, like Dirk did. You have to be able to handle the scrutiny, criticism, and difficulties of those situations if you want to be champion.

Dan Gilbert, the owner of the Cavs, tweeted shortly after the Finals ended, "There are NO SHORTCUTS. NONE." This will, inevitably, be blown out of proportion by the news sites with nothing better to do than to fluff Lebron's ego, but Gilbert gets it. Lebron just wanted a shortcut to the title, and he didn't get it. If he wants to be a champion, he has to play like one and earn it. Nobody, not even David Stern, is going to just hand him the trophy without earning it. He thought that by teaming up with Wade and Bosh, he would have it easy. Life on the beach. Playing with good friends. Winning championships. Nope. At least, not yet.

I'm not deluded enough into thinking that Lebron James won't ever win an NBA title. I pretty much expect them to next year, but I may be wrong - I hope I am, anyway. It's a bit of a shame, really, that the absolute best talent in the NBA has to be housed in a body with a brain like Lebron possesses. The guy in a riddle wrapped inside of a mystery wrapped inside a 26-year old manchild. He wants to have his cake, eat it, too, and not have to worry about baking it or cleaning up the mess in the kitchen (that analogy makes sense in my head). Maybe he'll grow up - he's still pretty young, after all - and grow into a real winner and he will actually win in the end.

That will actually be fine with me, because he didn't win this year.

He didn't leave Cleveland to win next year; he could have done that in Cleveland. He left to win now, and he failed. I've been vindicated, and I got to enjoy some amazing basketball in the process. It was an insanely exciting season to be a viewer of, and I am glad that the bad guys lost and the good guys won. It will only last a few months, sure, but the record books will always read, "2011 NBA Champions - Dallas Mavericks," and Lebron James still has as many championship rings as I do.

I'm going to type that one more time, because it just feels good: Lebron James still has as many championship rings as I do.

X-Men: First Class

****1/2*
Four and a Half Stars Out of Five

I really don't think I've ever seen a more shittily-produced promotion for a movie. When the first stills from X-Men: First Class were revealed, it looked like an absolute pile of shit. Then, there were the first few promotional posters released, and they seriously resembled something a 7th-grade comic book nerd feverishly put together with some amateurish understanding of Photoshop. I was so turned off by these images that I had decided that this would be an absolute abomination of a film. I just could not imagine a production which could possibly be watchable when this was the type of promotional materials being shown. It seemed like Marvel had tricked 20th Century Fox into making the worst thing possible in hopes of somehow getting the rights to the X-Franchise back in their hands. It turns out that I was incredibly wrong. The flick is fucking awesome, and is one of the best comic book adaptations yet.

What sets First Class apart from most other superhero (and basically any big-budget) movies is that it has a heart: it actually goes somewhere. I love movies that feature big fucking robots fucking each other up as much as the next guy, but those movies contain plots that serve only to get to each subsequent set piece as opposed to telling an interesting story. First Class actually gives a shit about its characters, evidenced by the first half of the movie without a real slam-bang action set piece. Sure, there are moments of action in that first hour, but nothing too crazy. The movie is content, thankfully, on exploring the characters' motives and what makes them tick. I am glad that director Matthew Vaughn developed these characters, because they are characters I grew up with and loved in my comic books; I wanted to see them fuck shit up, of course, but I wanted it to mean something, as opposed to just watching shit get fucked up for the sake of it. I got that, and more. The characters actually change over the course of the film; allegiances switch, and it makes sense. It was simply astonishing to see many of my favorite characters done right in movie-form, and I am infinitely happy that it worked out as well as it did.


I was initially put off by the characters appearing in the flick, because aside from Professor X, Magneto, Mystique, Emma Frost, and Beast, nobody was too well-known. Hell, even Mystique and Emma Frost probably aren't known too well by anybody who didn't spend their weekly allowances at comic shops growing up. I understand that, due to the continuity set up by the previous trilogy - and to an extent, the what-the-fuck-were-they-thinking-when-they-put-those-characters-in-there from X-Men Origins: Wolverine - Vaughn's hands were tied. The movie takes place in the early-60's, so they couldn't very well throw Cyclops as a teenager in there, as he would be roughly 50-something in the "modern-day" trilogy. They also couldn't throw Wolverine in there for continuity reasons, and his semi-franchise that has, unfortunately, stalled. Therefore, I get that lesser-knowns like Banshee (Caleb Landry Jones basically steals the show, but more on that later) and Havok - even if he is Cyclop's younger brother in the comics, and is clearly older here. It also helps keep the focus squarely on Charles 'Professor X' Xavier and Erik 'Magneto' Lehnsherr, which is really where the focus needs to be, considering the sheer awesomeness of them.

Magneto, as we all know from seeing X-Men, was imprisoned in a Nazi work camp during WWII. The flick opens with a young Erik being experimented upon by a "Nazi" "doctor," who turns out to be mutant Sebastian Shaw. The opening scenes set the stage for the entire movie, as Erik wants revenge on the man who tortured him during the war, and it also lets us see how his worldview is irrevocably altered. Here is a Jew who has seen what humanity is capable of doing to those deemed outcasts, and he will do everything in his power to ensure that does not happen to his people (in this case, mutants) do not suffer the same fate. Erik grows up into an adult who is consumed by his need for vengeance, and it pushes him to do things without properly thinking them through. His character undergoes an interesting transition throughout the film as he initially is a lone-wolf who becomes a supposed savior (in his own mind) of mutantkind.


Charles is the exact opposite. He grew up incredibly privileged, and discovers his own mutation early on. In one of the movie's few hiccups, we are introduced to Mystique who is apparently a 7 year-old orphan who raids Charles' gigantic mansion for food. The scene is a rare miss, but at least it introduces Charles to another mutant and forms an interesting relationship between him and Mystique. He grows up studying mutations, and generally uses that information to pick up women in England (his use of the word 'groovy' is hysterical and clearly reminds us we're in the 60's). Due to his unique mutation, Charles finds it easy to blend in to society, and it ultimately proves that he cannot see the entire picture of mutant-human relations clearly as he wants to, because his physical appearance is not different.


Charles and Erik's paths eventually cross as they are both in pursuit of the same man: Sebastian Shaw. Erik wants revenge while Charles is helping the CIA find other mutants. They form a hesitant alliance and begin assembling their own mutant "army" to compete with Shaw's, which includes Emma Frost (a telepath who can also change her into diamond form), Azazel (think a Russian, red Nightcrawler), and Riptide (he makes big ole' water tornadoes that mess things up nicely). Their new crew consists of Banshee (crazy-strong screaming, which is used brilliantly throughout the flick), Beast (gorilla-feet, insane intelligence, not blue... yet), Darwin (adapts for survival... really cool mutation), Angel (a stripper with dragonfly wings), and Havok (creates plasma blasts). The entire montage of finding the mutants is well-done, and also includes one of the best cameo appearances ever in a movie, although I will not spoil that. 

For fear of spoiling anything else, I'll just say this: Sebastian Shaw wants to start nuclear war to wipe out humankind to give rise to mutants. It involves America, Russia, and the Cuban missile crisis. It's cool stuff, to be sure, but the characters are clearly more important than the plot itself, which is fine by me, considering the characterization is so great. A lot of the great characterization falls onto the casting, which is fucking amazing.


The past few X-flicks have had some great casting - like Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, for one - but still missed out on quite a few big ones. Alan Cumming as Nightcrawler always pissed me off, because Nightcrawler was one of my favorite characters, and Cumming is a butt-munch who is not the least bit cool. Halle Berry as Storm always sucked, too, mostly because Storm was an African bad-ass, not some sexy American gal. The only "miss" as far as casting in First Class goes to January Jones as Emma Frost, but even that is forgivable due to the necessity to have a buxom-breasted blonde beauty portray her. I like Emma Frost in the comics because she is multi-faceted and hard to pin down for the most part; in the movie, she exists solely to show off her cleavage (again, forgivable), and to say a few silly things.

But when it comes to the Big Two of Magneto and Professor X, well, golly, if they didn't hit a home run with the casting. Michael Fassbender as Magneto was simply inspired casting. This guy has got it all to be big in Hollywood - this cat oozes charisma. His role in Inglourious Basterds is one of my favorite performances in the last ten years, and he also killed it in 300. Here, though, he's finally given a chance to star and portray a deep character with a tragic background. Without a great actor anchoring the film as Magneto, the flick simply could have fallen apart, but Fassbender is up to the task, and every moment he is on screen, he dominates the proceedings. His confidence and abilities allow him to be a super-powered James Bond without the allegiance to Her Majesty's Secret Service, and that's saying something as I love me some Bond.

James McAvoy as Professor X is also a knock-out. McAvoy has the ability to be a star, too, and he plays Charles with a quiet confidence and a man thrust into the role of mutant savior even though he's not quite ready for it yet. My biggest gripe by far is that both Magneto and Professor X didn't spend enough time together to truly get to know one another better. In the earlier X-films, it is implied that they spent years together building the X-Men, whereas here, they sadly do not. It goes against the introduction to X-Men: The Last Stand, in which they recruit Jean Gray to their cause. Again, I forgive the misstep due to the fact that continuity in these films have gotten to be quite ridiculous and befuddling, but hopefully the sequel clears this up a bit.

And then there's Kevin Bacon as Sebastian Shaw. I would be remiss if I didn't note Bacon's brilliant acting throughout his career, transitioning from 80's leading man to excellent character actor. Everybody I've ever met knows Kevin Bacon and loves the guy, and it's a shame he's never had the luck of some of his contemporaries. Hopefully, the spotlight can shine on him just a little bit more in his twilight years (okay, he's not that old, but still... in Hollywood, 45 is like 98). I've always championed Bacon, due to his criminally underrated performances in movies like Footloose (I am absolutely not kidding, that movie is fucking aces), and Stir of Echoes (how The Sixth Sense was a bigger hit than that is still beyond me), and I am glad to finally see him get to chew the scenery as a wicked man that doesn't involve seeing his penis again.

So, in summation, I don't have much bad to say about the movie. The little nits I felt necessary to pick weren't nearly enough to ruin my enjoyment of the movie one damn bit, and a lot of it is understandable given the constraints of previous entries. Prequels are a tricky business, as they are required to fit into previously created continuity while also showing us something we haven't seen before. Luckily, Vaughn and co. were up to the task, and helped craft one of the finest comic book adaptations yet. While it doesn't quite reach the level of The Dark Knight or the original Superman, it is better than all the rest, and is easily the best X-Men movie to date. I am already excited about the prospect of a sequel, and I really hope the film succeeds financially so we can see where Vaughn will take us in the future (past). The summer has started excellently, and I can only hope that the rest of the films released are half as good as First Class. This movie is, pun gleefully intended, at the top of the class. Enjoy.