Top Ten of Twenty Ten

Let's be honest with ourselves; 2010 was not a great year for movies. There was a lot of crap, a lot of disappointments, and a lot of forgettable meh. There were a few choice nuggets, though. There are every year. You just have to keep looking, keep watching, and keep sacrificing farm animals to the Gods of Cinema.

Before we begin, let me give out an honorary award I hope to make a regular tradition: The "It Wasn't THAT Bad" award. This is a special endowment I bestow upon a film that I feel was unfairly and unfortunately maligned by both critics and audiences. A special prize for one film that may not receive recognition in my top ten, but deserves more recognition than it got. The guilty pleasure, if you will. This year, that film is MacGruber.

Honorary Award: MacGruber
"If ripping throats gets that warhead back, I'll suck as many dicks as I've go— I'll rip as many throats as I have to!"

It Wasn't THAT Bad

MacGruber is a feature-length adaptation of the popular Saturday Night Live sketch, which explains a good portion of why people ignored it. MacGruber is a pastiche and parody of MacGyver and other action shows from the 80's. I laughed my ass off at this movie, honestly believing it to be the next big, raunchy comedy. The type unfunny people would quote out of context until I stab them in the throat with a Bic pen.

But no. No one saw MacGruber. Granted, it's not a masterpiece of filmmaking, but with certain comedies like this, you let storytelling fall by the wayside in exchange for laugh riots. A bad movie that's funny is not a bad movie.

I read several reviews for the movie, and they all seem to reach the same basic consensus: MacGruber was low-grade humor coupled with a nostalgia for a desirably forgotten era. Normally, I'd let that go. Who cares what critics say anymore? There was just one minor detail; Macgruber was not the only raunchy, lowest-common-denominator comedy brimming with 80's nostalgia. There was a second: Hot Tub Time Machine.

MacGruber barely made a blip on the radar. Hot Tub Time Machine opened to generally favorable reviews and a number-one weekend. I saw both films. MacGruber was funny. Hot Tub Time Machine was stupid and painful. There was a Michael Jackson joke. A joke they deemed so funny, they decided to use it in the trailer. Hackneyed comedy writers of America, hear me: Michael Jackson is dead. It's time to move on. Anybody who says MacGruber was bad and Hot Tub Time Machine was good has no business making assertions on any subject.

I guarantee Comedy Central will pick up the broadcast rights for MacGruber fairly soon, but a TV edit will not do the film justice. They went for a hard R, and it was well-earned. Like I said, MacGruber is not a great film. It's not in my top ten, and was never even the running, but the general wackiness is on par with Hot Shots and Austin Powers. And for a comedy, that's all you need.

Now on with the countdown:

"The rumors of my promiscuity have been greatly exaggerated. "
10) Easy A


When seeing movies outside of my demographic, I get paranoid. Walking into the theater, I always imagine one person is staring at me wondering if whether I'm in the wrong theater or if I'm some sort of pervert. Easy A was one of those experiences. I wasn't looking for a sleeper hit; I was completely bored and I needed a laugh. I probably would have skipped over it altogether since The Scarlet Letter was never a favorite book of mine, but I gave it the benefit of the doubt because I'm a sucker for postmodern interpretations.

The whole film examines the hypocrisy of sexuality in the modern world, especially at the teenage level. Supposedly, everything about sex is all right except for the actuality of women having sex. We've inadvertently created a society where a woman's ultimate goal is to be a sixteen year-old cocktease. Our hero, Olive doesn't ask to be thrust into the position of America's sexual liberator, but some people just have leadership thrust upon them. At times she treats it as a genuine crusade, other times a satirical expose, and sometimes, she just throws her hands up and declares, 'if you're going to villanize me, I'm going to be a fucking villain!'

My main grievance with the movie is the very puffy Amanda Bynes. Her appearance is an automatic point deduction. Also, there's a subplot involving Lisa Kudrow and Thomas Hayden Church that doesn't really percolate and just distracts from the story at hand. In the end though, I liked the movie. It was funny, it was genuine, and it was smart. Hell, it was even genius in some places. An overall enjoyable experience, even if it did mean attracting a roomful of gazes from wary teenagers.


"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical, naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix."
9) Howl


I'm no phony, so I will admit my intellectual shortcomings instead of masking them in a mound of BS. I've never read a word of Allen Ginsburg in my life. You see that quote up there? They Might Be Giants used the first half of that quote in their song "I Should Be Allowed to Think," and I thought they were geniuses for that. Even months after seeing Howl, I haven't read a word. I'm terrible like that, but at least I'm honest. Also, no one looks good wearing a Tyrolean, and Pabst Blue Ribbon is terrible.

Howl is the historical narrative of beatnik poet and 60's countercultural icon Allen Ginsburg. Specifically, the film details the impact the titular epic poem, both its intended audience and the easily offendable. The film jumps across time showing Allen Ginsburg (played expertly by James Franco) narrating his life to a biographer, living life as a beatnik, writing Howl, debuting his poem in San Francisco, and defending it in an obscenity hearing.

The crowning achievement, however, is the animation. Roughly 40% of Howl is an animated recitation of the poem, breathing life and vivid imagery into the work that normally only manifests in the subconscious mind of the literati. To see the twisted, vivacious images of a man's imagination manifested into visual form is nothing short of amazing. It does to poetry what Fantasia did to music.

James Franco has proved himself to be one of the finest actors of our generation. He feels no shame appearing in Apatow productions, and can bring it in prestige pictures. Wherever Franco is heading, keep an eye on him. He's huge now, and he's just going to keep getting bigger.


"Which would be worse, to live as a monster or to die as a good man?"
8) Shutter Island


An equal mix of Alfred Hitchcock thriller and David Fincher mystery, Shutter Island was the first great film of 2010, and was the only great film for several months after.

Based on a book nobody's ever heard of, Shutter Island is the story of US Marshall Teddy Daniels investigating the disappearance of a patient at the Ashecliffe Hospital for the criminally insane. Which is on an island. With a shutter, apparently. The further Teddy investigates, the more he discovers about about the staff, the patients, and the nature of experiments performed. Soon, he fears for his own safety and sanity as the mystery begins to engulf him.

I can't do the story justice in written word, especially the climax. The revelation and withholding of information makes the film what it is. Many chide director Martin Scorsese for making a film so much in contrast with his previous works; to them, I say shut up. Martin Scorsese can make whatever film he Goddamn wants to make. This was an excellent film, and is right up there among his "more prestigious" works. Let the man have some fun once in a while. He'll get back to gritty crime dramas accenting the dual nature of New York City soon enough. The film also features memorable roles by Jackie Earle Haley and Max Von Sydow, two of my favorite actors. Shutter Island isn't a horror story in the traditional sense, but every time these two are onscreen, you get chills up your spine.

Shutter Island is one of those films that is better upon repeat viewings. Upon the first watch, you accept everything at face value, waiting for each turn. On each subsequent viewing, you acknowledge the turns, but try to interpret why they're happening, who is responsible for them, and what it all means on the grand scale. With every scene and every image, you have to decide whether this is part of the grand experiment, part of Teddy's distorted psyche, part of the day-to-day madness of the asylum, or just a freak coincidence. With these open interpretations, you could watch the film a hundred times, and never see the same film twice. Infinite re-playability is normally something I look for in a video game, but if a movie offers it as well, I'll accept it.

Also, this is a totally over-the-top, but "Who Is Sixty-Seven" is an anagram for "Its Noises Vex, Why?"


"You ever noticed how you let a Mexican into your house just because he's got gardening tools? No questions asked, you just let him right in. He could have a chainsaw."
7) Machete


And now I talk about a big man with a big knife.

Machete, if you don't remember, was one of four faux-trailers which ran alongside 2007's Grindhouse double feature. It was a joke. Just like the rest of Grindhouse, it was completely over-the-top and ridiculous. But shortly sometime after its commencement, Robert Rodriguez looked at it and decided 'you know, I really want to make this movie.'

Danny Trejo is a badass motherfucker. That's all that needs to be said. There's no comparing him to other badass actors, no listing reasons he's awesome, no hyperbolic jokes about his feats of strength. You just take one look at the man, and you quake in fear. And he never sold Bowflex.

Let me ask one thing... Lindsay Lohan? I mean, really? What the hell? I don't like Jessica Alba either, but at least her character is essential to the story. Lindsay Lohan's entire role in the movie consists of sassing people who probably want to punch her in the face, getting hopped up on a load of drugs, making voyeuristic lesbian porn, waking up naked in the middle of nowhere, and putting on a silly costume. Come to think of it, did she even realize the cameras were rolling? That sounds like a normal day for Lohan. The icing on the cake, however, is her participating in the final showdown despite not being involved with any of the preceding events or characters leading up to this climax. She's firing an automatic weapon at a group of people she's never even seen before. How did she even choose sides? She doesn't ruin the film, but I'd love to see a special edition Lohanless version.

Machete is awesome in two regards: First, it's a continuation of Rodriguez's trademark no-holds-barred action style. Blood, violence, more blood, guns, knives, and lots more blood. In the first fifteen minutes, Machete rappels with some guy's intestines.

Second (and here's the political part), the film is a shot in the arm for the long forgotten exploitation genre. While normal films try to bank on celebrities, stories, or other normal subject matter, exploitation films try to entice audiences with the promise of seeing something taboo, lurid or controversial. Blaxploitation films were big in the 70's featuring urban African Americans overcoming Whitey with violence and cunning. Machete is in the same vein, but with Mexicans and Mexican Americans.

The sheer exaggeration of the anti-immigration themes is both hilarious and thought-provoking. Neither side is right in this scenario; we can't just allow everybody to cross our borders, but we can't turn the border into a demilitarized zone. But everyone has an opinion on why the other guy is wrong. By making the Mexicans a lethal, bloodthirsty alliance and the rich white Texans completely demonic, we get to step back from out prejudices and predilections. We are no longer parts of the immigration debate, but outside observers. We're no longer burdened by previous affiliations.

That's good satire.


"Fuck this shit, I'm getting the bazooka!"
6) Kick Ass


I loves me a good superhero movie. To my dismay, I didn't get it with Iron Man 2. And I sure as shit didn't get it with Jonah Hex. But luckily the good men and women of the indie circuit know how to get things done. I have no idea how they get it done, but I'm happy they get it done.

Kick Ass is the story of Dave Lizewski, typical geek, comic book aficionado and haircut procrastinator. Wondering why superheroes are delegated to the realm of fiction, Dave buys a neon green wetsuit, a pair of nightsticks, and introduces the world to "Kick Ass." Then Dave gets his ass kicked and immediately learns why superheroes are delegated to the realm of fiction.

Kick Ass masterfully balances comedy, black comedy, and action. There are pure wacky bits, bloody fights, scenes of torture, and people just plain having fun with weapons. Christopher Mintz-Plasse proved there is life after McLovin, Nicholas Cage is the good version of Nicholas Cage, and Chloe Moretz plays the best damn character of 2010. She will have a long and awesome career.

A lot of people dislike the abundant amount of brutal violence Kick Ass has to offer, completely missing the point. The point is: being a super hero is really stupid. You can do a million push ups every day of your life, but if two guys come at you with a knife, you're boned. Of course you're going to wind up tied to a chair with some guido bashing your kneecaps with a baseball bat. He's a professional muscleman. You're a kid who reads comic books.

No matter how much Christopher Nolan made Batman seem realistic, Kick Ass is as realistic as a superhero movie gets (minus the whole jet pack/minigun thing). Until scientists invent magic, you cannot be a superhero. It's impractical, infeasible, and traditional criminals will end you with conventional means. Your only hopes will be the element of surprise, and pure, unadulterated luck. But hey, it's just a movie. Nobody's dumb enough to try something in real life they've seen in a movie or on TV, right?


" You just headbutted my boyfriend so hard he burst!"
5) Scott Pilgrim Vs The World


This year, I received a lot of great gifts for Christmas, but Santa was outdone by my sister. She gifted me the entire Scott Pilgrim collection. In a fury of literacy not demonstrated since I discovered the library's Mad Magazine back catalog, I powered through all six volumes. I'll release a side-by-side comparison some day, but for now, let's stick solely to why the movie is awesome.

There are movies made for the digital generation, and there are movies for the digital generation. The difference being the former is an actual representation of the target audience, and the latter is some guy in a suit saying, "look, there are sexy teens doing what regular teens do. Buy a ticket dammit." Scott pilgrim is the former.

Right when the film began and Scott announced the name of one of his songs was 'Launchpad McQuack,' I knew this was as authentic as movies would get. We are a generation reared on computers, video games, MTV and caffeine, and we won't sit still for fluff and pandering. Anime has always been a thing, and homosexuality has always been an accepted lifestyle, and the movie behaves as such.

This movie is just over-the-top in mis-en-scene and ridiculous verisimilitude (I have a BA in film, remember?) This movie is so far gone from reality, it circles back around and passes it up again. It moves like a cartoon, looks like a video game, feels like an anime, and ultimately creates a unique environment never before experienced by anyone. I loved every moment of it. It was polished to a gleam, and really showed the tenacity and dedication of the filmmakers. It's appearing on a lot of top ten lists, and while it's not a top contender for the Oscars, I would thoroughly enjoy a dark horse nomination for art direction. No other film will ever look or feel like this one, and we should appreciate that.

There are a few problems I have with it. Mostly Ramona-related. I never really believed her infatuation with Scott. She always seemed wooden, distant and cold. As if she never really loved Scott, but just dated him out of frustration/pity because she was tired of his relentless fawning. I've heard it described as Twilight for boys, and in this sense, that's accurate.

Every other cast member brings their A-game. I'd never associate Micahel Cera with a story like this, but lo and behold, the miracle of acting! Kieran Culkin steals every scene he's in. Mark Webber and Allison Pill nail their characters. Every one of the evil exes is different and memorable. Even Johnny Simmons stands out despite playing a character specifically designed to blend into the background.

It's a six-volume story crammed into two hours. Everything compliments either the preceding or succeeding scenes, the callbacks are well-timed, and while a lot was cut from the books, everything that stays is stronger. The ending is also much more satisfying. That being said, maybe it's for the better this film bombed. I'd much rather have it as a cult favorite rather than an international hit. Yeah. That's how I'm rationalizing it.


"And now the spinning. Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile."
4) How to Train Your Dragon


Dreamworks. The whipping boy of all internet movie commentators. Let me guess, another film about animals voiced by celebrities going on decidedly non-animal adventures while making puns? It was a big year for Dreamworks. A fourth Shrek movie, a totally-not-at-all-Incredibles-ripoff-just-another-movie-about-superheroes-with-existential-crises, and How to Train Your Dragon.

I was quick to give HTTYD the brush-off. I mean, come on, it's Dreamworks. I ignored the trailers. I ignored the hype. I even ignored the glowing critical reviews. But then a weird thing started happening: I didn't hear anybody say a bad thing about it. Everybody loved it. Still, I was apprehensive. I waited for the film to migrate from the multiplex to the dollar show, and I saw it there. It was a crowded half-theater that smelled like stale nacho cheese (just as I remembered it), but holy hell. How to Train Your Dragon is the finest thing Dreamworks Animation has ever done.

Even without 3D, the film was a visual spectacle. It was the type of immersive environment filmmakers have forgotten how to create. It's not enough to show us things in 3D, you have to make us feel as if we're part of that world. 3D is just a gimmick; it's the effect you're after. To achieve that without the big plastic glasses is a true signal of animation excellence.

Plus, you know, vikings. That's always an extra point from me.

You know, I just realized how many similarities HTTYD has to Kick Ass. Both films star a young, nebbish hero trying to prove his might. Both films feature a young blonde girl who kicks everyone's ass. Both feature a large, mustached, muscular father-figure who indoctrinates their child with the importance of fighting, and both films star Christopher Mintz-Plasse.

Maybe Dreamworks has turned a corner. Maybe after making lowest-common-denominator films for a decade, they've proven heir stability. They're no longer standing in Pixar's shadow, but their worthy competitor. Maybe the days of epic animation are among us, retiring the cocked-eyebrow, half-smile plague that has... Ah, who am I kidding. Dreamworks got lucky. Cocked-eyebrow, half-smiling animals making puns is all they got.
++++++++++++++++++++++

Before I get to my top three, I have another honorary award to give: The "I'm an Idiot" award. This award goes to the film I most wanted to see this year, but due to limited releases, missed opportunities, and (mostly) my own sheer incompetence, I never managed to see. This year, I award the honor to Buried.

Honorary Award: Buried
"Oh no, I've been Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuried!" (this quote may not actually appear in the film)

I'm An Idiot

Buried is (apparently) the story of Paul Conroy, an American contractor working in Iraq, who is ambushed, kidnapped, and wakes up in a coffin, buried alive. At his disposal is a cell phone with abnormally grand reception, a lighter, and his own wits.

I really wanted to see this. Ryan Reynolds is awesome when he's not in some formulaic romcom, and his ability to carry a scene coupled with the intense plot made for an interesting premise. I saw the poster at my local megaplex, and I checked the theater listings weekly to see if it was playing. A few weeks passed, then a few more weeks passed, then months passed, and I learned something: My local megeplex fucking lies about what movies they're getting.

Whether or not Buried was ever released in St. Louis, I may never know. Despite it's American cast and English dialogue, it was a Spanish film released on the indie circuit. And out in the midwest, getting anything from the indie circuit is a craps shoot. Still, it wouldn't have hurt me to check one other theater.

Congratulations, Buried. I am an idiot.


"...Oops"
3) 127 Hours


Aron Ralston is a badass. I mean this to the fullest extent. He's the stuff of legend. In my eyes, he's right up there with Pecos Bill and John Henry. As such, his biopic would also have to be the stuff of legends.

Unfortunately, his story consists of a man being trapped under a rock for five days. Which normally does not make for good cinema.

But just as Danny Boyle made "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" into a Bollywood picture, he does the impossible again. He made a film from the unfilmable. James Franco again proves his awesomeness with an A-Plus portrayal. I not only expect Franco to be nominated at the Oscars for this role, I expect him to win. His portrayal hits all the great acting apexes. Doubt, paranoia, fear, psychosis, insecurity, emotional pain, physical pain, longing, and lust. It redeems whatever the hell he was doing in the Spider-Man movies.

I was nervous going in that the climax was going to be a high-class version of Hostel. And, in a way, it was. The scene in question is very graphic and very disturbing. However, the masterful filmmaking by everyone involved makes it absolutely worthwhile. Throughout the movie, it's hinted that Aron's arm is going to have to come off. It's inevitable. By the time the scene in question rolls around, you NEED to that arm come off. If not, you will be grossly dissatisfied. Or dissatisfied by the grossness. One of the two.

The film is a masterpiece of 21st century editing. It knows when to go fast, and it knows when to linger. Parts seem like a music video, parts seem like a Vlog, and parts seem like the nightmare of a man who fell asleep watching TV commercials. Despite 85% of the film taking place in a narrow crevice, it never gets old, never gets boring, never gets dull. One word of warning: before watching, get yourself a very large beverage. Dehydration is a major theme, and they milk it for all its worth.


"We lived in farms, then we lived in cities, and now we're going to live on the internet."
2) The Social Network


This is not the Facebook movie. This is a movie about the man who created Facebook. Saying this is a movie about Facebook is like calling Citizen Kane a movie about newspapers. And in a way, The Social Network is a modern day version of Citizen Kane. A man rises from nothingness, has an idea to change the world, employs it successfully, gets filthy stinking rich, gets corrupted by power, alienates everyone around him, and ultimately is haunted by the memory of a simple desire from their former lives.

How ironic, the man who created one of the great innovations in communication, socializing, and communication could be such a recluse. For years, I just assumed Zuckerberg was a typical computer programmer compiling acronyms and abbreviations amongst random brackets and parentheses in some dimly lit basement somewhere. But no, he's a fucking genius, creatively and technically. That's what this movie does best: give us the real skinny on Zuckerberg... To a degree. Read any sort of review or examination, and you discover The Social Network is historically accurate as anything Hollywood does. While I'll always welcome an Aaron Sorkin script, his banter and dialogue greatly affects the our hero's character.

Case in point: what is the one thing that solidifies a geek, nerd, or loser? Not their interests, their physical image, their manner of dress or their intelligence. No, the societal rejects of the world are first and foremost cast aside due to their poor social skills. Their inability to communicate, to enunciate, to be confident, to befriend those around them and act civil. Have you ever read an article about moot? Yeah, he acts like the guy would moderate 4Chan. Zuckerberg in the movie is throwing quips left and right, turning phrases at a moment's notice, and always being one step ahead of everybody. Zuckerberg in real life probably acts like me.

But just as we don't expect Citizen Kane to be the William Randolph Hearst story, we let this deification of our central character slide under the radar. It's all for the better, anyway. This is the heavy favorite to win Best Picture at the Oscars. And I can see that. It's paced well, the dialogue is fun, the score is modern and energetic, the actors were top-notch, and it's topical, yet timeless. It's a near perfect film, but there's still one film from 2010 I like slightly better.


"Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange."
1) Inception


BWOOOOOOOOM!

Okay, that's outta my system.

Inception is indeed my favorite film of the year. When I first saw the trailer, I had no idea what the film was about. I was floored by the spectacular visuals and the trippy scenery. When trying to hype up my sister, I couldn't form words. I just showed her the exact same trailer, and she was hooked.

Inception does what any good Sci-Fi film should; it creates an entire universe that seems grander and more complex than just a single film. Going in, you know nothing about inceptions, extractions, or dream sharing, but coming out, you know everything as if it were common knowledge. On top of that, it's also a psychological thriller, a mystery, and has one of the most debatable ambiguous endings since Blade Runner.

Half of the complaints I heard were viewers didn't understand what was going on; that the science and techniques were under-explained or glossed over. By contrast, the other half of the complainers claimed the movie spent too much time explaining things; that exposition and pandering comprised a majority of the dialogue, and the screenwriter didn't respect the audience's intelligence. Well which is it? Did they explain too much or not enough? Either way, I understood what was going on and never felt confused, bored or insulted, so I must be among the smartest people who saw the film. Go me!

The cast was good despite no outstanding single performance. Marion Cotillard is getting a lot of buzz, but really, I didn't think she was anything special. If anything, I liked her least. It was an ensemble cast, and that's what I remember; the ensemble. The single greatest aspect of the film was the score. I have never seen a score work so well with its accompanying visuals. There is some serious Godel-Escher-Bach science going on here. I've read articles and watched videos detailing the fine details involved, and I'm certain no one without an advanced degree in mathematics could understand everything going on. Hans Zimmer not only deserves the Oscar for best composition, but also a Grammy, an AMA, the Fields Medal and the Stanley Cup.

The special effects were breathtaking. In today's SFX-laden world, I get frequently misanthropic. Everything has to be done with a computer, and everything winds up looking like it was done with a computer. Either no one knows what reality looks like anymore, or we've collectively written a new version of The Emperor's New Clothes. Christopher Nolan is going to save cinema from itself. Greenscreens and Chromakey are the cancer that is killing film. We've become so reliant on computer graphics and animation, nobody knows how to make a film without them anymore (J'accuse, CGI gopher!) Christopher Nolan employs classic analog effects, trick camerawork, clever editing, set design, models, and traditional stuntwork to create the necessary effects, and only uses computers for the truly impossible, IE a city block folding over on itself. And when he does visit the well, he is able to hide the fakiness by not thrusting it into the foreground. It looks *shocker* real!

The Baumbach/Raimi Dichotomy

Every film fan at one point or another has attempted to compile a list of favorite comedies. And every single time, nobody amasses more than forty films without getting disgusted at themselves. At a certain point, everybody begins to doubt their own tastes and preferences, or begins to second-guess their instincts. They begin making observations like, "Why do I have Arsenic and Old Lace two points behind Jackass 2?" or, "I haven't even seen What About Bob? in fifteen years, and I don't remember any of it."

It's not a coincidence; this happens to everybody. It's the direct result of the Baumbach/Raimi Dichotomy. The film rule that comedies cannot be objectively compared to each other.

Let me explain:
Sam Raimi makes films that are funny, which are not comedies.
Noah Baumbach makes comedies, but they are not funny.

Raimi employs heavy black humor, over-the-top acting and ridiculous situations, but ultimately stay in the horror/thriller genre.
Baumbach makes slice-of-life dramadies more akin to the ancient Greek definition of comedy, providing uplifting lighthearted tales rather than belly-laughs. There are humorous instances, but none that provoke belly-laughs or actual guffaws.

Comedy is not a fair or accurate word. The spectrum is too broad, too grand, too all-encompassing to accurately define a film. It could mean any number of things, and does mean any number of things. The word can be used to describe both Noah Baumbach and Sam Raimi's works, but the two filmmaker's catalogues could not be any more different.

The real irony is, neither are truly representative of the modern definition of comedy.

Smile and wave, try to behave, be happy that they've made you a celebrity

There is a pre-requisite for reading this post. I'd like you to watch two separate viral videos:

We Are The World 25.75 from Kurt Russell

Okay. On we go.

What does it mean to be a celebrity? A celebrity is anybody whose deeds, actions, or career has made that person known to individuals without having personally met them. There are different grades of celebrity. Most well-known are A-listers, the superstars known by many, even if their fame is not particularly justified. A-list stars are money machines, the result of marketing and exploitation. They're not in the entertainment industry for noble reasons, they want awards and money and fans and more money. When you get a bunch of A-listers together, it usually turns into something like this:


GAH!

KILL IT!

KILL IT WITH SOMETHING STRONGER THAN FIRE!

You could firebomb the whole building, and the only loss would be Jeff Bridges and a recording studio. Why the hell is Vince Vaughn even there? Jeff Bridges won an Oscar for playing a musician in Crazy Heart, so he can justify showing up, even if his reasoning is half-assed. But Vince Vaughn looks like he got lost somewhere and needs to call a taxi. And another thing, when did Vince Vaughn start sucking? He was the coolest guy in the world in 2005, then he and Owen Wilson spontaneously decided they would rather suck. Did the awesomeness of Wedding Crashers result in their collective talent collapsing inward and destroying itself like a neutron star?

Sometimes celebrities just fall out of the limelight. The first video is full of this type of celebrity. Celebrities who once had clout and could once grace magazine covers, but either through bad decisions or personal reasons, have receded to the shadows.

Sometimes celebrities and audiences refuse to admit this. Look at Cameron Diaz and Nicole Kidman. Both of them haven't been in a decent film since 2002 (Gangs of New York and The Others, respectively). Mike Meyers and Eddie Murphy used to be comedy legends, now they couldn't tell a knock-knock joke without crapping all over it. Hell, Tom Cruise used to be the biggest draw in Hollywood with six consecutive films grossing over $100 million, but he couldn't keep his personal life separate from his career and completely screwed himself over.

And yet, despite Vince, Owen, Cameron, Nicole, Mike, Eddie and Tom not having a leg to stand on, they're still considered A-listers and still receive upwards of $25 million per film.

The other type of B-list actor is featured in the second video. The kind who work, and work, and work, but never reach A-list status. They put forth twice the effort, and earn a fraction of the fame. When these types take on a job, it's not for a paycheck, it's an actual honest-to-god career move. They work on the projects they want, they work with the people they want, and they produce quality. Even if this means very few people will ever see their projects.

They usually get a leg-up from the few honest-to-goodness quality actors who manage to crossover to A-list status. While I've never considered myself a Will Ferrell fan, Funny or Die has been a driving forces for aspiring comedians, and has done wonders for the field.

With these two factions clearly defined, we ask ourselves the question: which group of B-list celebrities is the truer representation of the B-list status? If advertisers were clamoring for celebrity spokesmen, who would make a bigger impact: a celebrity very few would recognize, but would greatly appreciate or a celebrity many would recognize, but few would appreciate?

Just some food for thought.

Nine Old Men and a Top Ten List

Recently, a few of my friends participated in a Disney-themed meme on Livejournal. It was particularly designed for girls (many questions devoted to princesses and such), but it's still a lovable subject. Disney remains an essential facet in everybody's life, particularly film buffs like me. I don't know a single person without at least one fond memory of the Disney library, so it's time to pay tribute with a new list:

My Ten Favorite Disney Films

10) Hercules (1997)

I'm not going to lie. This is not a good movie. The myths and characters of Greek mythology are watered down for children, and it hurts the end product. It tries to hard to be subversive without ever crossing over into full-on parody. Established historical figures are completely misinterpreted or else completely fabricated. The jokes are bad, bad, bad. And it's guilty of one of my biggest pet peeves: Hercules was the character's Roman character, Heracles was his Greek name.

Despite all this, I still love it. It's a guilty pleasure, plain and simple. I love the the Muses depicted as a Motown soul group, and Paul Shaffer was genius casting for Hermes. I also like James Woods as Hades, but not as much as everyone else. And how can you not feel the urge to stand up and cheer during "Go the Distance"? It ranks right up there with "You're the Best" from the The Karate Kid, "Danger Zone" from Top Gun, and the Rocky theme.

Ancient mythology has this certain allure; even its worst incarnation, it's still fascinating. I remember enjoying the animated series as well (even though it had the same problems as the film). Consider it a precursor to actual Greek mythology.

9) The Lion King (1994)



The Lion King was a critical darling and box-office phenomena in 1994, an already legendary year in film. It was funny, emotional, and epic; a cinematic trifecta. The voice acting was good, the music was good, the animation was good. But there was a reason it was so good. It was plagiarized. I don't mean it's loosely based on the story of Hamlet; everybody knows that. I mean the entire film was completely ripped off.

Kimba the White Lion. It was a Japanese property in the sixties. It was about a lion separated from home, taking refuge elsewhere until his rightful return as king. Both Kimba and Simba were forced to adopt an all-bug diet to placate their non-carnivore friends. Simba's antagonist was his uncle, Kimba's antagonist was his aunt. There is a huge stampede in both movies. Both Kimba and Simba see their deceased parents appear in the clouds, which then bestow advice. Hell, both properties feature elderly, mandrill sages! Even Matthew Broderick signed on under the assumption it was an American adaptation.

But regardless of all that, The Lion King is a staple of childhood. I cannot imagine anybody growing up without this film (childhoods ending prior to 1994 notwithstanding). Stolen or not, I do indeed like The Lion King. Hakuna Matata, indeed.

8) The Three Caballeros (1944)



Libraries rent out video tapes as well as books. In the suburbs, it's typical practice to abuse this service as a cheap alternative to Blockbuster. Unfortunately, there's a flaw in this plan: all the movies are educational. I actually view this as beneficial for two reasons: A) Smart kids like me were satisfied with educational films, and B) It allowed me to find things like The Three Caballeros.

Donald Duck is awesome. Yeah, Mickey Mouse is alright, and Goofy I could take or leave, but Donald was cream of the crop. The premise of him starring in his own movie was enough to make me love The Three Caballeros before I'd even seen it. Along with Saludos Amigos, The Three Caballeros was part of an American goodwill endeavor to Latin America helmed by Walt Disney himself. The two films introduced Americans to their neighbors cultures, and in turn, Latin American nations were invited into a Western Hemisphere brotherhood.

I don't remember a lot of this movie. What I do remember is Donald making friends with a Brazilian parrot named Jose Carioca, and a Mexican rooster named Panchito Pistoles. Together, the three avian amigos narrate/interact with various documentary segments about South and Central America. Between these segments, there's cartoon frivolity and wackiness. There was also a penguin for some reason. It's not a traditional film, but that's part of the fun. It certainly taught me more about Mexican culture than an animated Latina child yelling for a half hour about her map.

7) The Rescuers Down Under (1990)



Remember how Disney spat out sequels to every animated property it owned? Remember how they were always rushed jobs that didn't make a whole lot of sense canonically, and besmirched the integrity of the original? Well, this is the exception.

The Rescuers Down Under was a sequel to the 1977 film The Rescuers, and the second film from the Disney Renaissance (The Little Mermaid was the first). It was the first Disney film to be colored with computers, and it screamed excitement at every turn. Of course it does; it takes place in Australia. They can't make a cup of coffee down there without wrestling a crocodile.

I wasn't even aware of the original Rescuers movie until years after I saw the sequel. Frankly, I didn't care. All I needed to see was Cody riding the giant eagle, and I knew the predecessor couldn't possibly compare (when I finally did see it, I was sorely disappointed.)

I was always waiting for a crossover between The Rescuers and The Rescue Rangers. Apart from the obvious name similarities, both were about globetrotting rodents who helped victimized people. Sadly, such a crossover never came to fruition.

6) Fantasia (1940)



Fantasia is an art film by the most honest definition. Walt Disney tasked his animation staff to listen to seven pieces of classical music, then animate their interpretations. These seven segments were to accompany The Sorcerer's Apprentice, an animated short in the same vain featuring Mickey Mouse.

Fantasia is often derided by people who don't understand it's purpose. These were music videos before music videos were even a thing. Because the animators were not trained or versed in musical history (not even the specific compositions they were working with), they were able to create unique, stylistic, modern interpretations of already famous works. Some were treated with the utmost sincerity; The Pastoral Symphony features characters of Greek mythology at the feast of Bacchus. Some were lighthearted; Dance of the Hours features alligators, ostriches, and hippos dancing a clumsy ballet. Some are just experimental; Toccata and Fugue in D Minor is represented by abstract patterns and shadows.

In the end, Fantasia is a wild headtrip, but a must see for animation devotees and classical music aficionados. And I don't care what anyone says; That is Czernobóg, the Slavic deity, not Satan.

5) Aladdin (1992)



I can't make a Disney top ten list without mentioning at least one prince/princess film. It might as well be the best of the bunch.

Aladdin is hero that truly grows as an act of character, not plot convenience. When we meet him, we see he's a caring, decent individual forced into a life of crime by unfortunate circumstances. He can be selfish and mopey at times, but his good heart always shines through.

Jasmine is a respectable female lead. While every other princess waits patiently for her prince, Jasmine makes it quite vocal she neither wants or needs one. She's fine on her own. In fact, she almost gets herself killed trying to prove this. Luckily, Aladdin swoops in to save her. Right from their first meeting, Aladdin and Jasmine have a chemistry, Aladdin playing off Jasmine's thirst for adventure, and Jasmine playing off Aladdin's jocular nature. It seems real.

It's weird how Aladdin can be such a mirthful character, and yet, there are four other comic relief characters; Abu, the cheeky monkey (literally), Magic Carpet, the silent but exaggerated, um, flying carpet, Iago, the loudmouthed assistant of Jafar, and The Genie. My god, the genie. You either love him, or you hate him, but he steals the show.

Like many other Disney films of the 90's, Aladdin had an animated TV series spin-off. It was probably the best among the spin-offs. The characters remained consistent with their film counterparts, and despite a couple glaring anachronisms, it's solid entertainment. I consider it a forgotten classic. Aladdin was also the first Disney franchise to receive a straight-to-video sequel. So... I guess it's not all grand.

4) Oliver & Company (1988)



I don't know why I like Oliver & Company as much as I do. It seems to hit all the marks of inadequacy; a weak central character, poor pacing, pointless musical numbers, nonsensical character motivations, plot holes, unprovoked shifts in tone, and animals dancing while wearing sunglasses. And yet, here it is at number four on my list. I can't explain it. I think 90% of it has to do with Billy Joel. For some reason, I really liked him when I was a kid.

In light of these problems, Oliver & Company is a harmless film. It's not particularly strong, but it's inoffensive, which goes a long way in children's entertainment. I loved the first half of the movie when Oliver and Fagin's dogs are running scams, but after Jenny is introduced, I lose interest. The entire film becomes the story of a girl loving her cat, and I was really embarrassed to watch it. So much so, I had to fast forward through the musical numbers.

The strangest thing about Oliver & Company, a fact I never pinpointed until recently, it takes place in modern society. Every other Disney film takes place in times of aristocracies, the middle ages, or at the very least some rural/wilderness environment. The exception being 101 Dalmatians, but its modernistic 1960's styling ironically dates the film. For reasons I may never understand, Oliver & Company takes the number 4 spot.

3) Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)



Yes, Who Framed Roger Rabbit is not part of the official Disney animated library. Yes, it is a live-action film first and a cartoon only secondary. No, I don't care either way, I'm still including it. Otherwise I'd only have nine films on this list.

The movie is a postmodern piece of wonderment. It's a formalist film noir set in a world of pure fantasy. It's a satire of the film industry, but it makes everything up. The characters are easily recognizable figures, but independent of any predecessors. Bob Hoskins plays a hardboiled detective so well, I wouldn't believe for years he was actually British. Roger's as annoying character, but it's intentional, so I guess that's acceptable. Baby Herman is a genius piece of writing, Judge Doom is a frightening and intimidating villain, and although I never fetishized Jessica Rabbit (her freakishly out-of-proportion face always scared me off), I can see why she jump-started puberty for millions of young boys.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit is one of those rare cinematic experiences where everything goes exactly right. It's a great script on its own, and based on a novel idea. The special effects are cutting edge, and the visuals are top-notch. But most importantly, contrary to all other evidence, it proved Hollywood cares more about good ideas than money. Disney managed to convince Warner Bros, Fleischer Studios, Turner Entertainment, and Universal Pictures to feature their characters in a Disney movie. Nobody would ever have imagined something that insane happening, but here it is. In Technicolor.

2) Robin Hood (1973)



Still my favorite interpretation of the story, Disney's Robin Hood features an all-animal cast that most certainly spawned a dangerous amount of Furries. Squicky images aside, Robin Hood is a character everybody can love and admire. A man... er, fox, who stands up against injustice. A noble hero driven to change things for the better, putting right what has gone and wrong, and hoping that his next leap will be the leap home.

I watched this movie more than any other when I was a kid. There was just something about it so indescribably fascinating. I liked the music, the characters, and even though I could recite the story verbatim, it made me cheer time every time I watched it. The only thing I didn't like was the geeky turtle in big glasses. I always thought he was making fun of me.

I liked Robin Hood so much, I tried to read the official Robin Hood story, only to be disappointed by archaic English in a big, thick book. I tried to watch the 1992 Kevin Costner adaptation on video, but I was too young, and my mother made me turn it off. If only I could go back in time and inform my younger self of the Errol Flynn adaptation.

The animation is kind of weak, but there's a reason. Walt Disney died before its production began, and his passing hurt the studio financially. Animators were forced to copy character designs and even reuse entire sequences from previous films with the new characters drawn in place. As a result, many scenes look exactly like similar scenes from Snow White, The Jungle Book, and Bedknobs & Broomsticks. Regardless, Robin Hood is a cult classic that still holds up today.

1) The Sword in the Stone (1963)



I may have once been obsessed with Robin Hood, but The Sword in the Stone is my all-time favorite Disney film. There is only one reason I showed so much affection to Robin Hood, and only began heralding The Sword in the Stone recently: Disney's crazy-ass home video system. You've all seen the commercials; Disney releases one of its classic films from the Disney Vault, keeps it on the market for 9 months, then removes it from store shelves in favor of something else. If you want a Disney film, you better pick it up during this window. I don't know why they do this. I don't know any other company that does this. Just print your damn movies, and stop teasing us.

Unless I was grievously misinformed, The Sword in the Stone was never released on video when I was a kid. It was at Blockbuster,but always checked out. I had to subsist on the occasional random airings on Saturday afternoons. I always stumbled upon it by pure luck, and always halfway through.

I don't think I ever watched the movie in its entirety. When I was 22, I was playing Kingdom Hearts II, and I figured 'why the hell not?' I torrented a copy, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Merlin is a great absent-minded genius, and Archimedes is hilarious. Both are stubborn, short-tempered, opinionated, and they both deserve each other.

The physical transformations, especially the final Wizard's Duel, are pinnacles of animation, but there are a few questionable moments in production. There are three child actors who voiced Arthur, and none of them sound the same. If that's not bad enough, they switch constantly, sometimes in the middle of the scene.

In conclusion, The Sword in the Stone is my favorite of the Disney animated library; a vast collection of legendary titles, forgotten classics, and timeless stories. And Chicken Little. Despite recent missteps and the overreaching hands of Jeffrey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner, the name of Disney stands for quality and grandiose film. It's one of the few brand names in Hollywood to remain untarnished forever, and whatever direction it goes, every adult and child will stand beside it.

The Tete-A-Tete Of The Cineplex!

Ladies and Gentlemen, the incredible match-up you've all been waiting for!

In the red corner, weighing in at a combined 14 metric tons, an all-star cast in a battle royale at least ten years behind its necessity. For those among us who refuse to accept the 80s are over and refuse to let action heroes retire, even in their sixties. Nearly a dozen of the most heralded action stars side-by-side, plus two former professional wrestlers and the dad from Everybody Hates Chris.

Touting serious gunplay, graphic violence, and military overtones, they've recycled the same six plots for their whole careers, and they're doing so once again to defend their title as the reigning action film standards.
They are the cast of THE EXPENDABLES!

In the blue corner, weighing in at a combined 225 pounds, a cast of relative unknowns hailing from parts mostly unknown. For those who like things shiny and new, if only because their parents don't. They're young, but they're wild, and they're out to change the way we see action films. You may not know their names, but you know their faces... if you follow the indie circuit.
They're underground, and that's the way they like it.

They're blazing a trail using over-the-top violence, comedic elements and neo-futuristic art direction. With the exception of not being animated, they're basically cartoons, and they're dropping a safe and the old-timers. They are the challengers.
They are the cast of SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD!


This Friday, these two action movie interpretations square off at your local movie theater. For all the marbles, the winner will decide the future of the genre and Hollywood's new direction for the new decade. The celluloid rumble which will decide the future of the action movies:

The Tete-A-Tete Of The Cineplex!

Films, to your corners. Come out fighting.

Putting the Juvenile in Juvenile Fiction

Recently I came across the trailer for Ramona & Beezus. You may also share in my misery. Disney Channel, why do you hate things that are good? Is it jealousy?

Before I rip the upcoming movie apart, let me heap praises on the source material. Let's begin with Beverly Cleary. When I was a kid, there were only two real authors. Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary. While they both wrote books for kids of both genders, it didn't really make a difference. No matter how much I lauded Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing or The Mouse and the Motorcycle, they were women authors whose most famous books featured girls. It wasn't a good place for a young boy to be, but I didn't care. I was reading, I was happy, screw gender norms.

Ramona Quimby was first featured in the book Henry Huggins. She was a bit character, the younger, preschool kid who often pestered Henry and her older sister Beezus. Beezus was a larger supporting character who apparently struck a chord with readers. Her character was expanded on in the sequel, Henry and Beezus, and by association, so was Ramona.

Becoming something of a cult favorite, in the third sequel/first spinoff, Beezus and Ramona, Ramona was given her first starring role. Reader response was strong, and seven more books were written centering around Ramona, including Ramona the Pest, which many consider to be Cleary's best work (You heard me. Suck it, Dear Mr. Henshaw.) As for Beezus, she was relegated back to her supporting role. Ironically, Henry Huggins became a bit character in Ramona's books, much like Ramona was in his.

Like anything popular and profitable, Hollywood got their grubby mitts on Cleary's bibliography. Before now, Cleary's works have been relegated to ABC Made-for-TV movies, which were really low quality, and seemed insincere. Flash forward to today, and the previously mentioned, forthcoming Ramona & Beezus film. It will also be low quality, insincere, but with a much larger budget.

Let's start with the title. Ramona is the bankable character. She's the one everybody recognizes, she stars in eight books, and that's why the title was reversed to give her top billing. However, in the book Beezus and Ramona, she's only five years old. Kindergarten. And there aren't any bankable actresses that young. Even though Ramona stars in the film, she's not actually starring in the film.

Hence, the second problem. Selena Gomez, the girl with the scary eyebrows who Disney Channel will soon be replacing Miley Cyrus with, has been cast as Beezus. Gomez is a cash-cow. A media whore. If you don't believe me, did you watch the trailer? She introduces the trailer. She appears in the trailer. She is performing the paint-by-numbers theme in the trailer. This isn't an adaptation of Beezus and Ramona, it's Selena Gomez Vanity Project #7. She's not an actress, she's a commodity. Actresses like her are bought and sold, the same as gold or pork bellies.

Problem three, Selena Gomez is Hispanic. Does nobody else see that? Will a major plot point of the film consist of characters wondering why the Quimby family birthed a brown-eyed, wavy/raven-haired daughter of such dark complexion? Her name is Selena freaking Gomez! The only name more Latin is Conzuela Tortilla-Ortiz.

Problem four, and this is the biggie: based on the trailer, the majority of Ramona and Beezus doesn't actually come from Beezus and Ramona. The commercial audition and the largest picture in the world come from Ramona and Her Father. The wedding occurs in Ramona Forever. Ramona running away happens in Ramona and Her Mother. The very fact that the movie has to exorcise material from across the franchise just to fill a single movie does not bode well. There cannot possibly any cohesiveness. It's the cinematic equivalent of Frankenstein's monster. It's just a series of events tenuously strung together with loose regard to an overarching story, if they bother to include one at all.

The works of Beverly Cleary are classics, and deserve better treatment than what is being offered here (If this pattern continues, I anticipate a Dreamworks CGI adaptation of Ralph S Mouse starring Jeff Foxworthy). As a 23 year-old man, I have far too much invested in something tailored for six year-old girls. But I'm not so far gone from childhood that I don't remember wanting, earning, and deserving a minimal amount of respect. A privilege today's children may never experience.

And To Think, Mattel thought Toy Story Would Be a Flop

10 Things You Need to Know Before Seeing Toy Story 3

1. It's a character driven movie.
   The reason Toy Story 3 exists can be found in a single line of dialogue from Toy Story 2: "Do you really think Andy is going to take you to college, or on his honeymoon? Andy's growing up, and there's nothing you can do about it."
   
   Even though Toy Story 2 ends on an up-note, we can't shake the feeling that someday, eventually, Andy would grow up. He would tire of his toys eventually. This is the beginning of Toy Story 3, where we catch up to the characters 10 years on, and find out how they confront this situation. All the characters we know and love are here, so we get to jump directly into the plot.
   
   That being said...
   
2. The plot is kinda weak.
   There are two types of movies, the kind that feature great characters, and the kind that feature great adventures. Typically, the kind featuring characters get sequels that transpose them into awkward new scenarios in an attempt to liven them up. This is what Toy Story 3 is.
   
   There's a lot of recycled elements here regarding the Pathetic Fallacy. So much so, I couldn't help but feel Pixar was ripping off The Brave Little Toaster, simply replacing appliances with child's playthings. I would list examples, but I'm trying to be spoiler free. There are lots.
   
3. ...But the last ten minutes redeem it all.
   I'm critical of Toy Story 3, but that's only because Pixar has set themselves upon a plateau practically unreachable by anything short of monumental filmmaking. As such, the dark comedy premise of Daycare being equated with Prison fails to reach the apex, despite its grand comical execution.
   
   But this is hardly Pixar's fault. As mentioned, the movie exists to finally and precisely answer how Andy says goodbye to his beloved toys. But, this plot offers twenty minutes maximum of potential story. As such, the movie needs to be padded out. And that's what Sunnyside Daycare delivers, enough drama and comedy to make the final goodbye even more worthwhile.
   
   The final ten minutes, where Andy ties up the loose threads and makes good to Woody, Buzz and the rest is exactly what Pixar promised, what we the audience expected, and what the characters and franchise deserved. I don't want to give away too much, but this tearjerker of an ending will satisfy all. It was the perfect ending to the franchise.
   
4. The marketing is Really Overselling the new characters.
   Look at the poster. How many characters are jam packed in there? Could they possibly fit more in, maybe a few plastic army men in the crevices? That's not even the worst part. The worst part is marketing has lead us to believe each of these characters is equal in importance to the story. The truth is, with the exception of Lotso-Huggin-Bear and Ken, these characters are barely characters at all. They're just there to fill the role of "Other toys." They have no personality, and could easily be replaced with no impact.
   
   Even more ridiculous, Pixar made the common animation mistake of hiring big-name celebrities to voice these characters. How many dollars could John Lasseter have saved if he didn't hire James Bond to voice Mr. Pricklepants? Did Whoopi Goldberg really need to voice Stretch the Octopus? She had three lines, and was never mentioned by name.
   
   Thankfully, a lot of these minor characters are voiced by professional voice actors, or Pixar staff. But still, half of the characters on this poster are glorified extras, and the marketing staff is hoping franchise opportunities don't care either way.
   
5. Pixar tries two-tier storytelling, and succeeds.
   In Toy Story, Woody wass the main character with Buzz as the secondary. In Toy Story 2, it was the opposite. Buzz had all the major scenes while Woody had several existential crises. In both films, one character stood in the foreground while the other stayed on the sidelines, supporting them. One had the action, while one drove the plot.
   
   In every Pixar movie up until this point, plots have been straight and narrow. This isn't a bad thing, but the Toy Story franchise very clearly has two, equal protagonists. There should be opportunities for both Woody and Buzz to share the limelight. Well, Toy Story 3 tries this and succeeds. There are moments where Buzz and Woody separate, each taking a portion of the plot, each meeting their respective conflicts and fulfilling them to their own abilities. When the two diverging paths reconnect, the movie as a whole benefits. It's an advanced narrative technique, and for a first attempt, it's executed masterfully.
   
6. Andy finally gets some development.
   In Toy Story and Toy Story 2, Andy is little more than a plot device. A MacGuffin. The characters are toys, and Andy is the child who plays with the toys. We know little about the child, other than he has an equal appreciation for cowboys and astronauts, and is not above integrating his sister's Barbie dolls into his playtime routines.
   
   While we don't get a full biography of Andy in Toy Story 3, he at least evolves past his previous niche as a prop. We see how much Andy cares about his toys, viewing them as more than possessions or playthings. He has actual emotion invested in them. He realizes he has no use for a Mr. Potato Head or piggy bank at college, but he can't bring himself to detach them from his life.
   
   Andy's toys are an extension of his soul. His existence is equally defined by them as they are by Andy. We don't learn a lot about Andy (after all, it's not his movie), but we do learn everything we need during the film (especially the finale). Also, college-aged Andy is voiced by the same actor who voiced Young Andy in the first two Toy Stories. A great detail further driving home the point.
   
7. Sid returns. Sorta.
   I was really hoping Sid appeared in Toy Story 3 as an adult. Preferably as a psychologically scarred individual who goes into a mental frenzy after seeing Woody crossing the street.
   
   It doesn't happen this way, but Sid does indeed return (I know it was him, he's listed in the credits.) It's not an obvious cameo, so you really have to look for him. But he's there, and he winds up pretty much exactly where you'd expect a kid like Sid to end up.
   
8. It's not getting the Oscar.
   Toy Story 3 was great, I thoroughly endorse it, and it is a great finale to the franchise. But it's not getting the Academy Award.
   
   As much as it pains me to say it, Dreamworks really upped their game this year, and How to Train Your Dragon is the better film.
   
   Edit: Hah ha! Boy, was I wrong about this one!
   
9. Don't bother with the 3D.
   Toy Story 3 went down the same path as Clash of the Titans. The 3D was shoehorned in, and the film suffers. Not one critic recommends spending the extra two dollars on the 3D version, and I agree with them.
   
   It's just not a 3D film. Things don't pop out at the audience. Up had moments where the 3D gimmick was a benefit, but the majority of Toy Story 3's action was designed for, and executed well in glorious 2D.
   
   Besides, those glasses never work properly with people who wear prescription lenses.
   
10. Toddlers really are frightening, terrifying creatures.
    Way to endear yourself to your target demographic, Pixar. Although I do agree with you. Toddlers are quite literally the human equivalent of maggots. They're young, wriggly, disgusting, and they secrete ooze.

Going Against the Family

There has always been one scene in Fight Club that I found particularly engaging. Amidst the scenes of anti-consumerism, neo-facism, psychological debate, nihilism, bitch tits and bouts of fisticuffs, there is a scene where Fight Club begins to grow in popularity and notoriety (despite this being a direct violation of Fight Club's first two rules). In doing so, Fight Club is visited one night by a local mob boss. I don't care enough at the moment to look up his name, so I'll simply call him Johnny Mafia. It doesn't matter, anyway. Johnny Mafia senses opportunity in Fight Club, and he hopes to persuade Tyler Durden into seeing things their way, but Tyler wants nothing of it.

In the Chuck Palahniuk novel, there are two unwritten rules to Fight Club never mentioned in the film

A) Nobody is the center of the fight club except for the two men fighting.
B) Fight Club will always be free.

The very fact that Johnny Mafia wants to violate both these ordinances by assuming control of Fight Club and capitalizing it is in direct conflict with Fight Club's ideals and purposes. We've all seen the film, so we know what happens next. Tyler refuses the offer, Johnny Mafia starts beating the shit out of Tyler, then Tyler goes bananas and starts screaming, drooling and spitting blood on the Italian American gentleman's face. Reasonably disturbed at the batshit craziness in front of him, the mafia disappears from the film and is never mentioned or heard from again.

It wasn't until recently that I realized why this moment has stuck with me. This wasn't just a throwaway scene to demonstrate Fight Club's presence in society, or a punctuated illustration of Tyler Durden's unstable nature, this was a cinematic changing of the guard.

Before 1999, the manliest man movies possible were westerns, war movies, cop films, and mafia movies. By this time, westerns were distant memories, war movies were transitioning into Oscar Bait, and cop movies were little more than 90-minute cliches. As such, the most adrenaline fueled, testosterone pumping, ball-scratching pieces of cinema were laced with references to mob bosses, families, and made men. Basically, everything by Quentin Tarantino.

But the 90s changed things. While the decade opened with Goodfellas (in my opinion, the best mafia film ever), culture norms began shifting. The word 'Gangster' no longer elicited images of beefy Italians in pinstripe suits. Gangsters were street thugs. They were Crips or Bloods, they lived in the inner city. They didn't have number games or heists, they mugged people, murdered people, dealt drugs, and were concerned with street warfare over family honor.

This was indicative of the 90s as a whole. As the decade progressed, people were less concerned with formality and regulation. People just wanted to be people. They couldn't be bothered with full-on commitment. Technology and lifestyles created a mindset of speed and impulse. Everything was sample sized. This even rippled out to the latent proto-anarchist impulses of society. In films about crime, audience didn't want an entire history spanning back to the old country. We wanted hedonistic bad dudes blowing shit up and creating mayhem.

Returning to Fight Club, released at the tail end of the 1990's, let's examine the previously mentioned changing of the guard. Giving into societal pressure/demand/disinterest, we have Tyler, the personification of 1990's hedonism and impulse squaring off against Johnny Mafia, a caricature of the soon-to-be-retired mobster motifs. It begins with Johnny telling Tyler to give up; he owns the town, he made the rules, he has power and influence. But Tyler just shrugs it off. Tyler is younger, stronger, and better connected to the people Johnny erroneously believes he governs. More importantly, Tyler just doesn't care. He's a nihilist. Johnny's power of persuasion and deliverance of physical harm is completely ineffective as Tyler beams his blood-soaked teeth, terrifying and emasculating the once proud Don.

Movie audiences made it clear; we don't want long monologues about character and honor, we don't debates about respect and obligation, we don't want redemption and justice. When we want crime, we want criminals and fuck all else. We want brash, we want bold, we want cocksure, we want arrogant. We want small time crooks forced into big situations. We want nice guys forced into bad decisions. We want people knocking over liquor stores because they want money, not because the shopkeeper didn't pay for protection.

We just want somebody to hit someone as hard as they can.

Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin

After seeing The Runaways at SXSW (yeah, I'm still name-dropping that), I gave it a review of 3/5. I'd like to amend that.

Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart are two of the finest young actors working in Hollywood. Possibly the two best under 21. While both appeared together in some little-known Vampire franchise, possibly a SyFy channel original, here is where they display their acting prowess in full force.

Both Fanning and Stewart, together, in their primes, should be admired and acknowledged by even the mildest of movie fans. I say without hyperbole Kristen Stewart's portrayal of Joan Jett is Oscar-caliber. And while Dakota Fanning's depiction of Cherie Curie gets overly dramatic in the third act, it hardly sullies an otherwise fine film.

My other large problem with The Runways was the implementation of the standard musician biopic formula. Practically every film documenting a musicians life follows the three-and-a-half act formula:

1) I'm Nobody
2) I'm Famous
3) I'm on drugs
3.5) I'm dead/I'm clean/I'm nobody again.

This isn't the fault of The Runaways, and the film shouldn't shoulder the blame. It's inescapable. It's an overused structure because so many musicians invariably fall victim to this lifestyle. While it is a tad tiresome projected on the big screen for the 822nd time, it's at least honest and accurate. Would it be better if the third act began with Joan helping Cherie kick her drug habit, then swearing off vice altogether, traveling the country warning young girls of the dangers of drugs and alcohol?

As a result of my recent softening, I hereby redact my previous rating of The Runaways from 3/5, and replace it with 4/5.

But why now? Why wait three months to change my mind? Simply put: The Distributor fucked up. Of all the SXSW films, very few wound up getting distributed. Even fewer would be distributed to theaters. As mentioned before, Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning are very talented actresses, but more importantly, they're popular. Popular means bankable. Bankable means returns. Returns means profit (take note, Underpants Gnomes).

All over SXSW, I saw posters and heard buzz about The Runaways. It was one of the headlining films. People wanted to see this movie. When The Runaways made its way to my homestead, St. Louis, I heard nothing about it. Nothing. With the exception of a listing in the movie timetables of the newspaper and a poster inside the theater in which it was currently playing, The Runaways received no press.

And who is at fault for all of this? None other than Apparition, a newly-formed distribution company and subsidiary of Sony Pictures Worldwide. Focusing on arthouse cinema, Apparition completely dropped the ball concerning The Runaways. With the legion of fangirls who would empty their piggy banks for the privilege of seeing a new film starring Fanning and Stewart, regardless of content, the film would have retaken it's 10 million dollar budget in a single weekend.

But that's not all. In addition to catering to fangirls, the film would also appeal to audiophiles with its depiction of one of the most famous, game-changing rock bands in history. It also had great writing, powerful acting, and a strong feminist undertone. The Runaways should have been widely released. It should have been a Summer release and surprise blockbuster. It should have had magazine ads, and radio ads, and TV ads, and trailers before other blockbuster films. Instead, it played on a total of 244 theaters. It barely grossed 3.5 million.

Has Apparition heard of marketing? The process of attracting consumers and informing them of a products existence and quality?

Circling back to my original point, The Runaways needs all the support it can get. Apparition doesn't know anything, including how to distribute a film. Audiences barely had a chance to know the movie existed. And critics, like myself, were probably too harsh concerning the genre and its pratfalls. The Runaways does not deserve the hand it was dealt, and while my efforts may be futile at this point, I'm at least making an effort to espouse the quality of a good movie. Which is more than Apparition can claim.

B D D E E A Ab A Ab A Ab D D E E

Here is Why I'm Looking Forward to Iron Man 2:

I have my tickets to see Iron Man 2 this week. Hell, I'm seeing a double feature; Iron Man followed immediately after by Iron Man 2 (the refillable popcorn bucket pays for itself.) Like all superhero movies, I go in with the rosiest of glasses. Superheroes are my weakness; anything remotely related to superhuman powers utilized to fight evil gets my adrenaline pumping. I even have nice things to say about Daredevil.

Because Iron Man is one of the premiere examples of the Superhero Movie, a sequel utilizing the same director and actors will assuredly be just as miraculous. Right?

Here is Why I Should Be Worried About Iron Man 2:

Like any blockbuster sequel, lightning rarely strikes twice. Filmmakers forget what it was about the original that made it such a legendary film, skimp on storytelling and narrative, and instead use the dramatic increase in funding towards spectacle: fighting scenes, special effects and actor paychecks. Look at all the trailers and commercials; Scarlet Johansson doesn't have a single line of dialogue, she just wears leather and does a choreographed fight/dance down a sterile hallway. What could she possibly have to add? Gwyneth Paltrow barely did anything in the first film, but her screentime seems to be ramped up considerably for the sequel. And Samuel L. Jackson is there too. For those not in the know, the film world is planning to tie together every Marvel Superhero film into a giant diegetic universe with Jackson serving as the crossover element until the final Avengers denouement, but no one seems to realize the repercussions of having so many A-list actors eternally on retainer.

In addition, there's the seemingly mandatory element that must be observed by every superhero sequel: Double the villains. While the first movie is reserved for the strongest, infamous or most iconic villain in the hero's rogue gallery, the sequel has to compensate by dividing the plot between two lesser foes. Here, we have Whiplash and Justin Hammer each vastly different in operation and execution. Plus the American government is attempting to terminate Tony Stark's night job, serving as a third antagonist to an already bloated story. But Iron Man 2 goes one step further by doubling the heroes. Along with Iron Man, there's War Machine, who is exactly the same as Iron Man in every way, except gray and piloted by a marine.

All this, plus Iron Man 2 seems to take itself less seriously than its predecessor. Iron Man goes skydiving. Iron Man goes to Monte Carlo. Iron Man goes to the VMA's. The original Iron Man was written by the same guy who wrote Children of Men. The sequel is written by the guy who wrote Tropic Thunder. The differences show. I'm not saying the film about the guy with a nuclear reactor in his chest who puts on a suit of armor with a built in jet-pack to blow up terrorists should be grounded in reality, I'm simply stating that the filmmakers should be aware of where the line is drawn.

Here is Why I'm Not Worried About Iron Man 2:

Trailers give away way too much information. Instead of trying to entice audiences, trailers summarize and compress the entirety of a film into a two-minute synopsis. Comedies give away the best jokes, action films give away the best scenes, and the ending to romances can be guessed before the announcer says "From the people who brought you..." I've only seen one exception to this in recent years: Pixar. Think about it; Wall-E's trailer revealed it was a film about a little robot cleaning up the Earth, but made no mention of the anti-consumerism rhetoric. It never even showed the Axiom. Up made mention of Carl flying to South America in his house via thousands of balloons, but you would never guess a majority of the plot had to deal with poachers. And you can tell Toy Story 3 is going to have more to it than Woody and Buzz surviving a daycare center.

Iron Man 2 seems to follow the same formula. We see Iron Man dicking around with his superpowers because that is totally what the hedonistic Tony Stark would do. Until Whiplash shows up at Monte Carlo and strikes some sense of responsibility into him. I'm guessing the entirety of what we've seen in the trailers only occurs in the first thirty minutes. After that, we have free range for an entire plotline. Who knows what it will be. Maybe it'll be epic, maybe it will suck. Either way, it will at least be worth seeing.

Plus Nathan Fillion gives it his personal endorsement, so that has to be worth something.