THERE WAS A TIME IN MY LIFE WHEN I WOULDN'T BE CAUGHT DEAD IN A GOWN LIKE THIS..

A crazy summer already promises to be in store, with travel and events lining up through Labor Day already.. So I've been takin' it easy this week.. Laying low, cleaning out my TiVo and catching up with my behemoth of a NETFLIX queue.. I caught 3:10 TO YUMA the other night and despite many strong moments.. I was kind of thoroughly non-plussed.

First of all, most of what carried me through this picture was the motley crew of a cast. I've never really been on Team Russell Crowe and this project didn't do anything to convert me over. I still feel the same about him now as I did before I watched this.. Christian Bale does his thing in this film but honestly this is one of his more flat performances I've seen to date. Nothing really spectacular to him in this one. In fact, almost all of the spectacular is left to a long time fave of mine, Mr. Ben Foster (+++) As he has proven to do time and time again, this guy just chews his way through his scenes... Kicking ass, taking names and leaving almost everybody else in his destructive wake. He is hands down the best part of this film and his performance along makes this thing worthwhile. I was surprised to see Richard Roxburgh (The Duke from Moulin Rouge) come into the mix, but he's always a delight to have around I guess. If I had once heard that Luke Wilson was making a cameo in this movie, I had totally forgot because I had to double take the moment he came on the screen. I was like, "Whaaa?.. Is that Luke Wilson?" Anyway, Gretchen Mol is also in this and I mean.. She was a’ight, but she so far has just proven to be one of those Indie It girl ingénues that get buzz for n apparent reason. Ultimately, the absence of any real women characters or stories proved a huge void and really just made this whole thing feel like yet another antiquated Western without any significant female characterization or presence. On the same token, I didn’t appreciate the violence in this thing either. Yeah, I get it that the West was violent, but we really need to do something about the excess in violence in our culture, as tired as that rant may sound. The
Western is the fictional dramatization of the ethic of how heterosexual Victorian males are to communicate with each other. Now this ethic can prove either partially erotic and arousing (ie
Brokeback Mountain), or mostly prehistoric and rudimentary (see, John Wayne). The final shoot out scene had me straining to stay engaged. All in all, remarkably forgettable and tuned out from any sense of context or import. (C-)


I was completely convinced that I was the last individual on all of Planet Unicorn who had yet to see SUPERBAD until I found out my filmophile friend Sylvia hadn't seen it either and that made me feel just a little bit better about myself ;)

Now, don't get me wrong, Superbad is a pretty fucking hysterical film, but it's also a film that essentially we have all collectively seen before. But let's get the good stuff out of the way first. The opening sequence discussing amateur internet porn was truly epic and of our time. The writing is truly high-lare which is pretty easy to accomplish when you have Jonah Hill spouting off such zingers as “Don’t be such a va-gine. I gotta get a Red Bull before class.” I couldn’t stop thinking about what this film must mean to the generation 10 years behind me. I imagine that its content and experience was digested and therefore collectively realized into a much different thing then it what it was for me. I could see why this film could be iconic for them. For me, in spite of all of its good stuff, it really just came off as a reimagination of different teen coming of age films that have come and gone over the past 3 decades.. I couldn’t help but wonder if my disconnect to this film was somehow similar to the disconnect that many straight men and women have to Moulin Rouge? Like perhaps the cosmic inverse of this theoretical disconnect? Ultimately, while watching Superbad, I was also reminded of such classics as The Last American Virgin and American Pie and (in spite of how vanilla it may seem nowadays) Can’t Hardly Wait. What these films didn't have, however, was this particular team and when you're handed a Judd Apatow production, you can be sure to be favored with such peppery delights as, “It’s not the going with the ladies that I care about. It’s the coming.” and “Spread your shit. Pussies on the pavement, fellas!” I loved loved loved the girl that played Jules!! (Emma Stone. I hope she has great things to come!) But I loved the Michael Cera love interest girl too (Martha Maclsaac). What I did come to value of this film was that perhaps, just maybe, this narrative played a huge part in disseminating the Bromance mystique that has so permeated our culture over the past few years. Michael Cera really does need to grow as an actor. The same George Michael from Arrested Development read will only get him so far, and I say this because I do like him. I’d just like to see him take more risks is all! I’m sure it’ll happen in due time, but I hope it comes sooner rather than later. But it should be well noted.. The penis art during the final credits was quite simply, j’amazing and at the end of the day.. Isn't that really what this was all about?! (B)

So I've been highly anticipating the premiere of HBO's original movie version of Grey Gardens since I caught a glimpse of Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange apparently high as kites heading down the red carpet at this year's Golden Globes.  

So I popped open a bottle of 2 Buck Chuck Cabernet, had my Top Straight Sylvia come over and we settled in for a Wednesday night of crazy genius. First of all, let me begin with The Cast. While Jessica Lange is undoubtedly splendid in this, Grey Gardens is so clearly Drew's vehicle. She shines and soars as Little Edie Beal and the result is nothing more than a sheer triumph and delight. Many a review has already gone on at length regarding the significance of this performance for Drew and the future of her career as well as the place she has cemented in our culture because of it so I will leave it to those who have already elaborated. Basically, let's just say that with Drew's Little Edie.. We are definitely still given Drew, the Drew that audiences truly want to see, but it's a Drew who is completely wrapped up in giving us something opposite of what she would normally give us. Every impulse is Edie's impulse. Every choice Drew makes in this film is clearly in honor and respect for Edie. In short, she has truly transformed herself into the life and world of this character and we are all the better for it.  With all the warranted attention that's been laid on Drew, I was surprised to find out during the opening credits that one of my obsessions of late, Jeanne Tripplehorn, would be gracing this project as the Jackie O. Tripplehorn's work in Big Love, particularly this season, is absolute heartbreak and grace but the moment she commands the screen as Jackie O, this broken, disjointed character study is suddenly pulled together into a glorious, cohesive character study. Of course, there are great themes regarding the line that connects the past to the present and the continual struggle we all have to keep it present. In spite of all of this, it falls short of epic-ness and by the film's final act, we're left with a little more Jane Austen then anything timely or significant. (B-)

So that's that... Everything's kind of all over the place right now but I hope to be back on top of my game within the next few weeks.

That's all.