Formerly "Dave's Blog About Movies and Such"

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Superman's Drunk

[Nice choice, Man of Steel, with the Johnnie Walker.]

I love Superman III. There, I said it. Granted, I haven't seen the movie since I was not the age I am now and then some, but I'd be willing to bet I'd still dig the shit out of this flick. I know some people who hate it because of it's unorthodox approach to this comic book character but I've never read any of the comics (nor, indeed, many comics in general—my one geekism blindspot, sadly) and I've never been one for sticking to convention. I don't know if Superman III works as a superhero movie, but as a comedy? Damn, this shit is top notch.

Among the many plot-lines in this film is one in which Superman is exposed to a synthetic kryptonite that causes him to not so much lose his powers as become evil. Actually, that's not entirely accurate. He doesn't become evil so much as a giant douche. I suppose I'm splitting hairs here. You could argue that, technically, douchery + superpowers = evil. Tomato tomato (hmm, kinda loses something written down).

Anywho, while diving full-force into the depths of his not-saving-people/fucking-with-people/banging-trollops tailspin, Superman goes and does what any self-respecting, embarrassment of his former self, washed-up celebrity does and gets himself liquored up but proper. How much booze would it take to turn the son of Jor-El into a belligerent, squandering-any-good-will-he-ever-had-by-dashing-the-dreams-of-the-children-who-looked-up-to-him-as-a-hero mess? I don't know, but the guy probably should have gone straight for the Bacardi 151.

By the way, I will probably get around to reviewing Superman III here at some point...as well as that whole other bunch of not movies I've reviewed that I promised to review for you fine folks and still haven't reviewed. I mean it this time, though. I swear. [Side note: Look at me being all always promising shit and never following through on shit. I'm just like the awesomest deadbeat dad of blogging.]

Unfortunately, this clip is not embeddable but you can watch it here.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The Landlord (1970)

dir. Hal Ashby


Few other New Hollywood filmmakers embodied the iconoclastic, revolutionary spirit of seventies cinema more than Hal Ashby. Although some have derided Ashby for a supposed lack of a distinctive auteur-ish visual style, his seventies-film winning streak (Harold and Maude, The Last Detail, Shampoo, Bound for Glory, Coming Home, and Being There) is rivaled by few other contemporaries (Woody Allen and Robert Altman are of the few). With his incisive social commentary, Ashby had a knack for cutting to the heart of some of the most pressing issues of the day.

Until this week, Ashby's 1970 directorial debut The Landlord was the only seventies film of his I had yet to see. It's not that I avoided it, mind you. Seeing as it was buried by the studio and unavailable for so long, I just had a hard time getting my hands on it. It's still not in print but, luckily, Netflix has added it to its steaming service. Damn, I love Netflix streaming (sorry, I swear to stop sucking Netflix streaming's dick).

With The Landlord, Ashby tackled the issues of race relations and gentrification. Beau Bridges stars as Elgar Winthrop Julius Enders (aka WASP), the layabout offspring of the wealthy, white Stuffed-Von-Shirtington family, who decides to use some of his extra cash to buy a dilapidated brownstone so that he can evict the tenants, and spruce it up. After initial culture clashes, Enders soon fancies himself part of the community, developing a relationship with a go-go dancer in the area. Much to his family's chagrin, he moves into the basement of the building and becomes part of a new family...that is, until drama erupts. Watch the movie to find out what happens.

By the way, you may be asking which dangerous Brooklyn neighborhood Enders ventures to for to buy the perfect building for which to spruce up. Answer: Park Slope. Whaaa? Yes, back in the late sixties Park Slope wasn't the Yuppie-strollerville we know it to be today. Being familiar with the Park Slope of today (not that I live there, mind you. I can't afford that fucking rent), I kept giggling every-time the uptight, rich whites in this film referred with derision to the Slope as a scary ghetto. More than anything, this film functions as a great time capsule.

New York history is not the only time-capsuly aspect of this movie, however. Stylistically, this film is very much of its era. Frequently employing emotional/tonal rather than linear cutting, The Landlord is probably the New Wavy-ist film Ashby made. Anyone who thought that Ashby had an invisible style need only watch this picture. He is aided in no small part, incidentally, by the artful photography of Gordon Willis (one of the legendary cinematographer's first films). Willis creates a stark contrast between the stark, blindingly bright, bleached out imagery of the WASP's at their estate and the dark, shadowy photography of city-living (this latter dark style later perfected with Willis' work on The Godfather).

In another stylistic flourish, Ashby also frequently breaks the fourth wall. In many a scene, Bridges will look into the camera and explain his motivations. The most striking example, however, occurs at a rent party in the middle of the film. In a method later used by Spike Lee to great effect, Ashby stops the narrative so that the members of the party can look directly into the camera and address the issue of race relations.

Not only does The Landlord function as a New York history time capsule and not only does it show the promise later to bloom in Ashby's subsequent films, but this film also more than holds its own against the rest of Ashby's seventies canon.

Dave's Rating:

Monday, April 25, 2011

Empire of the Ants (1977)

dir. Bert I. Gordon


It's amazing the extent that the tiniest amount of effort on the part of a filmmaker can improve the experience for the viewer of a bad movie. When I started watching Bert I. Gordon's giant-killer-ant movie Empire of the Ants, it took me many a try to make it through. I should note here, of course, that most nights when I begin to watch a movie for to review on my blog, it is quite late in the night and I am quite far from awake. Yeah, I fall asleep like a motherfucker on movies. And so was the case with this movie.

Empire of the Ants proved an even greater hurdle to clear, however, because I knew exactly what to expect going into this movie. Or at least I thought I did know. I knew that some meddling by man (nuclear waste spilling on a remote island, in this case) would fuck up nature in some way (embiggening ants, in this case) and a disparate group of folks would be thrust together and attempt to deal with the problem ("prospective real estate investors"/vacationers looking for a free trip, take a tour with Joan Collins' sleazy real estate magnate to the idyllic island where giant ants are fucking things up but proper, in this case). I also knew that this movie would be a series of scenes of folks separating from the pack and then getting surrounded by ants and attempting futilely to fend of the superbeasts.

["We sure picked a bad day to be completely surrounded by giant killer ants/old."]


I think the biggest obstacle to my staying-awakeness during the first chunk of the movie was that I was so bored by the going-through-the-motions-ness of the screenplay. Before they get attacked by the ants, the folks get to know each other, explaining back-stories and the like. I tried to follow all the backstories and personalities of the characters, but after a while I started questioning everything. Why should I care about this shit? Why did the filmmakers bother with attempts at humanizing the characters in a trash movie whose sole purpose is the laughing-in-derision-pleasure of folks watching said movie a generation removed from the release date of the movie? Why do I bother writing about interchangeable pieces of shit such as this? What is the point of any of this?

So, yeah, getting through the first section of this movie was a bit of a task.

[Although it may seem that those spindly legs would do a poor job of supporting the weight of such huge fucking ants, this movie has the balls to say "fuck science."]


But then, but then...then about half an hour to go before the final credits rolled across the screen, magic began to happen. No, nothing on the level of Henry and Karen Hill walking through the back entrance of the Copa, but in the realm of low-budget exploitation, what Gordon offers in the final third of Empire of the Ants is no less awe-inspiring. Yes, the first two thirds were exactly what I was expecting, but not so here. After making it through forbidding giant-ant-filled wilderness, the survivors of the group happen upon an old, very odd farm couple. Yes, the survivors are happy but their joy is undercut by the really fucking weird weirdness of the farm couple saviors. Me likey so far.

The survivors then get a ride from the kindly but odd sheriff of ant island. On their way to town, they pass a sugar cane field and sugar refinery (giant fucking ants + sugar canes + sugar refinery = damn, you know this ain't gonna be the last time we'll see this location). When the survivors land in the supposedly safe town, what they discover is a low-rent Lynchian weirdville where all the folks are just a bit off. Me likey some more. After a little more story and some escape attempts by the survivors, the group discovers the source of the weirdness of the folks of ant island. This town is under the control of the queen of the ants. Yes, weekly, the residents are herded and individually placed in a "Twenty One"-style isolation booth where gas is pumped in and the queen ant indoctrinates them in the ways of being subordinate to her will. And why does she do this? So that the town can focus all of its energy on producing sugar for the hungry hungry ants. Now that's what I'm fucking talking about!

What could have been just another rote killer bug movie is saved by batshit.

[The trailer:]


Dave's Rating:

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

My Favorite Movie Scenes: Boogie Nights - "You Got the Touch" (1997)

dir. Paul Thomas Anderson


Journal entry # 1 of my (in no way involuntary) Transformers novel writing-session: The hypothetical person who is totally not holding me hostage right now has told me that if I make enough progress today with the Bumblebee flashback chapter I can see daylight today.

["You Got the Touch"]

Monday, April 18, 2011

Writing, You Are a Cruel Mistress


Hey, "Dave's Blog About Movies and Such-ites" (I think the reason I've held on to this stupid blog name for so long is stubbornness more than anything), I gots me lots of writin's to do and lots of little time to do it in. As much as my other writing obligations beckon to me, however, I refuse to neglect you fine folks. I will continue to spit hot fire at y'alls every goddamned day; I just won't have time (at least in the next week or so) to write the sort of unnecessarily long-winded, masturbatory, tangent-filled, "what the fuck was the point of that" blog posts that you have become accustomed to (and which no one really reads anyway).

Yep, in the next week or so I'll be efficient like a motherfucker. All the flavor you've come to expect from my writing, with none of the fat. Lest some of you get upset, however, at the seeming reneging of my rambling-writing duties here, let me state that one of the writing things I'm writing right now is something that I'm writing for you, and which I'm sure you'll enjoy. I swear I'm only doing it for you, baby. Don't get mad.

[I totally swear that I am not being held hostage by a woman who discovered my Transformers fan fiction and is now forcing me to write a ten volume series on the subject. Nope, nothing like that is happening at all. This is totally not a cry for help or anything. I will totally not be dropping subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints as to my current state of hostagism this week.]

Friday, April 15, 2011

Movie's I'm Anticipating: Hobo with a Shotgun (2011) [EXTREMELY NSFW]

dir. Jason Eisener


Apparently, I've been living under a goddamned rock because I just found out that an actual movie's been made of the Hobo with a Shotgun fake trailer. God bless Rutger Hauer.

[The trailer:]


While you're at it, check out Jason Eisener's previous short film Treevenge. This is an amazing concept. Mad props to Eisener, by the way, for his use of Riz Ortolani's score for Cannibal Holocaust.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Say Goodbye

Sorry for doing a lazy, "here's one of them dang clip video things what I found on the internet today," today. I would've written some more shit but I've been busy with other screenplay writing shit (which, I guess, kind of partially explains my quickly written, mean-spirited review of Taken, a flick I quite enjoyed in retrospect). Anywho, someone on the youtube made a montage of one of my favorite cliches: in movies, people never say bye before hanging up phones. It's right up there with movie people never saying hello when answering phones.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

My Favorite Credit Sequences: Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

dir. Sidney Lumet


Yes, as you all know, I love Dog Day Afternoon. In addition to being an amazing character piece, it's also one of my favorite New York movies. Few other filmmakers were as adept as Sidney Lumet at turning this town into a character. Never was this more apparent than with Dog Day Afternoon. Lumet sets the tone immediately with his stunning, documentary style credit sequence. Set to Elton John's "Amoreena" (one of only two pieces of music in the movie), are numerous clips (I'm assuming stolen shots) of city life in the various neighborhoods of Brooklyn (I think there might be a few shots from other boroughs as well. Readers help me out).

In addition to the many slice-of-life shots of the people and places of Brooklyn, a few shots are included in Dog Day Afternoon's credit sequence in which the Manhattan vista dominates and overpowers the skyline. My favorite such image is the one in which a cemetery in the foreground (I think this might be Calvary (again, readers, help me out), which is actually in Queens but bordering Brooklyn) is interrupted by Manhattan skyscrapers. Talk about an image. If that ain't a metaphor for something, I don't know what is.

Yes, Brooklyn is all the rage nowadays but back in the day it was seen as a backwater second-banana, living in the shadows of the cosmopolitan Manhattan. The Manhattan of the movie imagination was where glamorous sophisticates went to play, Brooklyn was where regular folks went to live. Brooklyn was the underachieving, fuck-up younger kid never living up to the expectations set by its superstar older sibling. This mentality pervades the film. Ain't no schnazzy glitz nor glamour in this heist film, a genre usually rife with cash, excitement, and explosive, violent standoffs. Instead, we get a regular working class guy hoping to score a little cash to help support his family and to (actually, I don't wanna give away a spoiler, watch the movie and find out), who decides to rob a neighborhood bank on the day that it just happened to have its money shipped away. Some bank-robbers just can't catch a break.

[Side note: I was unable to embed the credit sequence but you can watch it here.]

By the way, unrelated to anything, but a block from where the bank exterior shots of Dog Day Afternoon were filmed there used to be an amazing hot dog place, "Hot Diggity Dog", which was replaced by an eatery called "Munch Box: The one stop munching spot". Although it annoyed me to lose "Hot Diggity Dog", I was happy that it was replaced by a place whose name makes me giggle every time I walk by.
[Sorry for the poor quality of the picture. I took it with my shitty cell phone.]

Monday, April 11, 2011

Taken (2008)

dir. Pierre Morel


An American girl (Maggie Grace) travels to France where she is kidnapped by Albanians who have built an industry out of drugging white women and then forcing some into prostitution while selling others to wealthy Arabs. It is up to the girl's father, former special agent Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson), to torture people so that he can save his daughter. Yes, people, it's Xenophobia Justified: The Movie or 24: The Expansion Pack.

Where to begin oh where to begin. Let's state the obvious that introducing a group of hardened special forces agents early on in the film, only to have Liam Neeson be the one in the bunch who hunts down, tortures and/or kills dozens of young, skilled baddies with his own bare fifty-six-year-old hands, is the equivalent of making a Mayberry revenge movie in which Barney Fife hunts down the criminals who kidnapped Opie (thank you to my writing partner for this joke, by the way). Yes, Neeson is a ridiculously amazing actor, but c'mon.

Of course, that isn't to say that Neeson goes it alone in this movie. No, he's not completely without help. He gets a big assist from the lazy screenwriter tool that is an orgy of coincidences. The biggest coincidence, incidentally, comes in the form of Neeson calling his daughter right before the kidnappers enter the Paris apartment where she and her friend are staying.

Neeson soon travels to Paris and uses his expertise to annihilate men less than half his age. Oh yeah, he also shoots (wounding, not killing) an innocent, unarmed woman so that her corrupt-cop husband, Neeson's old friend, will help him find his daughter.
["Dude, what the fuck? All you had to do was ask."]

In a more intelligent revenge picture, such an act would serve to bring a purposeful ambiguity to the story. It would provide commentary on the depths to which someone might sink when driven by the justification of avenging wrongs done to a loved one. In Taken, however, Neeson's shooting of an innocent woman is shown simply as one of the many necessary steps this man must take to rescue his daughter—just a plot point. And people say this genre is a moral vacuum whose sole intention is to cater the limbic brains of a bloodthirsty populace.

Which brings us to the torture. Yes, in a critical scene, Neeson uses electro-torture to gain critical information from one of the few baddies he doesn't beat to death with his fifty-six-year-old fists. Say what you will about the torture-porn horror sub-genre (and believe me I'm not a big fan) but at least the point of those movies is to make people repulsed by torture, not to stoke bloodlust. Taken, however—because the filmmakers mean for us to take pleasure in the torture—is much more depraved and morally questionable than either of the Hostel movies. Presenting the highly dubious ticking time bomb scenario as a means to justify "enhanced interrogation methods" only further inures movie-goers to the brutality of this morally questionable practice. Constant inundation with these film scenarios instills in audiences the belief that torture can be an effective way of extracting information. Of course, there's also the viewpoint that Taken is only a movie and I should lighten the fuck up.

[Sorry to get all annoyingly preachy. Here's a box full of puppies to make up for inserting political commentary into my movie blog.]


To be honest, I don't know why the politics of this movie bothered me so much. I usually love these sorts of right-wing, morally questionable trash pictures. This is the point in the review where I would usually suss out what it was specifically about this particular movie that annoyed me more than it should have but, to be honest, I'm stumped.

All that being said, is Taken entertaining? Well yeah. The kinetic camera-work and expert pacing work well to keep viewers on edge. Also, let's state the obvious that as implausible, racist, and queasily pro-torture as this movie is, it sure is satisfying to watch Neeson get revenge on sex traffickers.

[The trailer:]


Dave's Rating:

Saturday, April 9, 2011

R.I.P. Sidney Lumet

Damn, my friends and I were just talking about 12 Angry Men last night. Sidney Lumet's death is a real bummer. He's always been one of my favorite directors. This TV-trained New York filmmaker had one of the most distinguished careers of the post-war era. A consummate actor's director, Lumet excelled at weaving naturalistic character-based humor into even the most dramatic scenarios.

Sure I'm a huge fan of most of his work, but, to be honest, were he only to have directed Dog Day Afternoon, he would still rank as one of my favorite filmmakers. Whenever people ask me why I have such love for 70s cinema, I need only mention this film. A funny, downer, character-based heist film, Dog Day Afternoon—although presenting a crazy (and based on true events) scenario—plays it all completely straight. Sure, there's laughs to be had, but they are never cheap. Lumet empathized with the flawed and sometimes outrageous characters. If you haven't seen this yet, do yourself a huge favor and watch it right now.

Here are some trailers for some of Lumet's best New York films.


12 Angry Men (1957)


[The trailer:]



Serpico (1973)


[The trailer:]



Dog Day Afternoon (1975)



[The trailer]



Network (1976)




[The trailer:]

Friday, April 8, 2011

Awesome Movie Trailers: Night of the Lepus (1972)

dir. William F. Claxton


The killer rabbit movie to end them all. I love how artfully this trailer manages to avoid mentioning or showing that the killer beasts in this movie are in fact large fluffy bunny rabbits. It's as if all involved in the making of Night of the Lepus were high as kites from conception through final edit of the film and then sobered up just in time for the first studio screening. It was only then that the producer slapped his forehead, stood up, turned and faced all in attendance and blurted out, "Holy shit, men, rabbits aren't scary. What the fuck were we thinking? We can't sell this thing."

To which one of the underlings replied, "Well, we can just, you know, not mention the rabbits in the trailer. We'll just show the lead up to and aftermath of the bunny killings. Hopefully, we'll sucker enough people in before they know what they're in for," holding back giggles.

"This isn't funny. We already made up posters. We sold the Midwest. The movie is called Night of the Lepus. We can't change that. Once you name something, it's set in stone forever and for the end of time."

"You really think the movie-going public knows that Lepus is Latin for hare? Get a grip, man."

"Get a grip? My money is being flushed down the toilet as we speak and you're telling me to get a grip?" screamed the producer.

The underling tossed a baggie toward the producer, "Hey man, shroom up. It'll make you feel better."

The producer quickly snatched the baggie before replying curtly, "no it won't and thank you."

[Side note: I have no idea how I've gone so long without reviewing this movie. In addition to having killer rabbits, it also has that fellow who was always standing and walking, you know, Rory Calhoun. Don't worry, Dave's-Blog-about-Movies-and-Such-ites, I'll get around to reviewing this soon. I just gotta rewatch it.]

[The trailer:]

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Awesome Movie Trailers: Alien (1979)

dir. Ridley Scott


Dayum! Talk about a fucking trailer. Slow build up. No dialogue. Explosion of intense horror. If I was alive in 1979 and saw this trailer in the theaters, I would have bought ten tickets on the spot...and then been disappointed when the movie theater employee told me, "Sir, you can't buy tickets months before the movie's released. And even if you could, why would you want ten tickets? You can't split yourself into ten people and experience the movie ten times simultaneously. I've looked it up in my big book of physics and that's against the law."

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Awesome Movie Trailers: Raising Cain (1992)

dir. Brian De Palma


My writing partner and I were recently talking about how much we love Brian De Palma's, John Lithgow starring, thriller Raising Cain. We both acknowledged, however, that we wouldn't rank this movie among De Palma's best. Sure we appreciate it, but it's really a movie just for De Palma and thriller geeks. I guess, considering the fact that you really have to be in the know to really appreciate Raising Cain, it's a bit of a snobbish movie. But still, because De Palma toys with genre conventions with such reckless abandon, Raising Cain is a great example of a genre-deconstruction comedy. If you've studied as many thrillers as I have, it's impossible to watch this without laughing at the brazen way De Palma fucks with the form and expectations.

And so, while looking up Raising Cain clips on youtube, I found a trailer made specifically to get video stores to stock Raising Cain back in the early nineties. As humorous as the cleverness of the movie can be, Holy Christ-balls it's got nothing on this trailer. Not only is it jam-packed with the worst kind of pandering hucksterism, it's so bursting with an early nineties videotape vibe that it made me feel like I was twelve again.

[Side note: Be warned: Both the embedded trailers are spoilery as hell.]

[Second side note: I don't know why I've been so obsessed with early nineties thrillers lately.]

[Third side note: I will probably review this movie at some point. I just need to rewatch it. It's been a while since I've seen it.]

[The video trailer:]


[Here's the regular theatrical trailer:]

Monday, April 4, 2011

Cobra (1986)

dir. George P. Cosmatos


I think I've come to realize that my love for histrionic, violent, right-wing action movies stems from the fact that the ridiculous nature of these movies proves just how ludicrous the political ideology is that they espouse. Take Stallone's mid-eighties crapterpiece Cobra. Nothing in this movie even comes close to resembling any kind of reality.

Delivering all his lines as if in a perpetual Vicodin haze (I think he was going for detached cool), Sylvester Stallone stars as Lieutenant Marion "Cobra" Cobretti, a man intent on bringing down a ruthless gang of ne'er-do-wells who spend their time massacring civilians, that is, when they aren't performing knife-training exercises in a lava factory.

[Side note: I wonder how the conversation went between the gang leader and the factory owner when getting permission to use the factory as a training ground.

"I'm sorry. I'm still trying to figure out why you feel that my factory is the best place to practice your martial arts and knife skills, which, by the way, is none of my business why exactly you're training in these things. What a man and a bunch of other muscled-up men do in their free time in another man's factory is nobody's business but theirs. There, they're their own bosses. It's not my place to judge. But anyways, where was I going was this? Oh yeah, so I still can't figure out why you think my factory is the best place to train."

"It has some open space. You know, we can-"

"Yeah, but I've also got an old abandoned warehouse. It has plenty more space and none of this pesky machinery around."

"We need the machinery. We need it on at all times. There's gotta be lava. There's gotta be sparks. There's gotta be everything."

"That's another thing I've been meaning to ask. You'll be training here after hours. Why would you want all the machinery on?"

"The sweat on our tanned, brawny bodies glistens with more vibrancy when lit by smolten-steel light. But, you know, not in a gay way or anything."

"Obviously. But listen, you gotta understand where I'm coming from. It costs me a fucking fuck-ton of money to keep this place running when it ain't producing shit. Do you have any idea what my power bill would be?"

"You'll be heavily compensated. Just give me a detailed expense report, electricity use and otherwise. Don't worry about the money."

"All right. I guess you got yourself a deal mister."]

Playing the Night Slasher—Cobra's arch-nemesis and leader of the massacre gang—is the unfortunate-faced Brian Thompson.



Much of Cobra unfolds in standard cop movie fashion. In addition to hunting his psychotic enemies, Cobra also battles the namby-pamby police superiors who don't cotton to his renegade ways. Movie police superiors, when will you learn? Just stick to desk-jockeying and let the psychopath with the badge perform whatever depraved actions are necessary to stop the criminals, even if it means pursuing the criminal in a reckless-endangerment-of-civilians/thoroughly badass car chase.

Yes, Cobra's justly famous car chase is where the oh-my-god-this-is-actually-happening-ness of the movie really kicks into high gear. At about the midway point in the chase, Cobra, on a highway full of traffic, spins his car around, pulls out his machine gun and...actually, you know what, just watch it, it's gotta be seen to be believed.

[Side note: if you can watch this car chase without pausing halfway through to clean the cum out of your pants, you are a better man than I.]


Now I'm no theoretical-awesomeness physicist but I don't know that a lot of this shit is possible without killing lots of other innocent people. I'm sure the Mythbusters would attempt it were they able to get insurance for a stunt certain to send all involved to their fiery deaths. [Side note: Here's an idea for something I'd like to see in a mindless action movie. Midway through the movie, the hero pursues the villain in a ridiculous, violent, explosion-filled car chase. The rest of the movie follows all the families of the innocent bystanders killed by the recklessness of the hero's actions in the car chase. Yep, it would just be a series of funerals.]

Of course, the car chase and overarching plot are not the only areas where Cobra throws ludicrousity at us with lightning speed. Even the smallest details are full of this shit. For instance, Cobra, existing on a police salary, manages to live it up in a lavish beach-side home. As we all know, of course, public servant salaries allow the sort of opulent lifestyles that would make Gordon Gekko tsk tsk in disapproval.

I should state the obvious here that the one thing I've neglected to mention in my joke-filled review is the fact that Cobra was borne of a time in which rampant urban crime proved a whole hell of a lot bigger, seemingly unstoppable problem than we face today. I guess the makers of this film could be forgiven for espousing a worldview that saw all of society under the constant threat of malicious, highly organized, id-monsters who were intent on causing chaos for no other reason than that it seemed like a fun thing to do. But still, lava-factory knife-training sessions? I mean, c'mon.

[The trailer:]


Dave's Rating [Side note: for this movie I would post a picture of my erect penis but I don't think that's allowed by blogger.]:

Friday, April 1, 2011

OMG! Awesome Movie Trailers! :) The Hottie & the Nottie (2008)

dir. Tom Putnam


This movie's existence so like totally does not disprove the existence of God.

[Side note: I feel like I've referenced this movie so often on my blog I should actually, you know, watch it and review it. Thoughts?]

[The trailer:]