Thighs Wide Shut

Children of Men
Kids Я dUst
Trailer

If ‘anything about a future dystopian society‘ tops my mos flavorite genres for book readin than the same muss be true for cinema. I means, how else could one rationally explain my placing of The Island in my top twelve list of last year?!!???!? Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty o future duds, remember V For Vendetta… didn’t think so, but when a director gets it right, boy (and/or girl) does he (and/or she) get it right. And I am gleefully happy to report that Children of Men is the bestestestest of said genre since 12 Monkeys caputered a captive audience back in the ’95. Would you expect anything less from Alfonso Cuarón, the director who made the only thumbcredible Harry Potter flick and made me want to have a foursome with the cast of Y Tu Mamá También?

Dat’s right folks, this flick, about our world 20 years from now where women can no longer pop out babies, isn’t only a blue ribbon winner of its genre, but of filmdom in general. There’s so much goodness goings on that there’ll be something for everyone to enjoy, I gar-on-tee. It’s purty hard not to come out with anything less than specialtacular when your cast consists of some of today’s breast of the breast like Clive Owen, Julianne Moore (try not to get too attached to her character), Chiwetel Ejiofor, Peter Mullan, Danny Huston, newcomer Claire-Hope Ashitey, and Michael Caine, who hands in probably the 2nd finest stoner performance in modern movies (can you guess who’s #1? well, I can tell you that Tom Cruise’s toking in Eyes Wide Shut is the opposite of #1). Fab cast aside, what truly stands out in this franztastic feature is Cuarón’s use of eggsisting locations. It’s so much easier to buy into a future when real places are used than when it’s all shot on set and all CGI-rendered out on an Apple (it’s one of the main reasons why 28 Days Later be da illest horror joint in the past decade). From frame one, I knew Children of Men was going to be something very special, and I hope you feel the same way

Unsatisfied with this?: Netflix Michael Winterbottom’s ghastly underseen near-future tale Code 46 [trailer] which also was shot a ton at eggsisting locations

Possible Porno Name: Children On Men

Apt MPupil3: Franco Battiato‘s cover of the Rolling Stone’s ‘Ruby Tuesday‘ [d] which sounds like it belongs in a Wes Anderson flick, but probably wouldn’t work as well as it did in CoM. The rest of the sdtrk is purty killah, so czech that shaz out!

A Saucerful of Secrets: yes, that floating pig in the sky is a direct ref to Pink Floyd’s album cover for Animals. By the gay, that flamous Battersea Power Station is in the process of being redeveloped

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Breast In Show

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Volver
Return of the Mack Padre
Trailer

When Pedro Almodóvar releases a movie people go and see it. For those who don’t cause you hate Spain or the language you were forced to take for 7+ years of yer academic life, you should follow suit. Why? Cause like the taste of McDonald’s fries, you’re about 90% sure of being satisfied to the bone. Sure, they sometimes come out soggy, but you’d still eat em anywayz. Volver, while not as adventurous as La Mala Educación or as coma-tastic as Hable Con Ella, is still a splendid piece o work and a mos s’wonderful addition to Almodóvar’s cannon of chick flicks for this early bit of the 21st century. Every Volver review that one reads gabs on and on like Gabbo about how this is a giant return to form for its star Penélope Cruz. Yeah, no shit, cause listening to her speak English is like listening to me taking a dump after plowing thru the entire Fresh-Mex menu at Chevy’s. And while each of those reviews are busy creating needless Oscar buzz, they fail to point out the mos important bazzle of Cruz’ volve to her native tongue: since you don’t have to pay attention to what’s coming outta Cruz’ piehole you are free to spend the entire pic faping to her redonkey-donk yammy-yams or rehippopotamus-hipp tuchy-tuchus or her regiraffe-gira necky-neck (damn that thing is long!)

Unsatisfied with this?: Netflix Son De Mar [trailer] featuring the NSFWness of one of Pedro’s bizatches and my mos flavorite Western Europeaners, Leonor Watling

Possible Porno Name: Vulva

Apt MPupil3: the title track that Cruz lip syncs and clap syncs to, ‘Volver‘ [d] by Estrella Morente

I Licked Yer Mum’s Pechos On Yer Dad’s Techo: mi mos favorite Spanish verbs es molestar y chupar, as in como para chuparse los dedos = it’s finger licking good!

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): like a majority of cine del Almodóvar, Pecho En La Demostración/Breast In Show

until next thyme, which will be sooner rather than later cause my arse has gotta lotta seein and reviewin to do, the balcony is clothed…

The Pursuit of Happyness
Independence From The Days of Four-ty Shitty Movies
Trailer

Every time I saw the trailer for Happyness in a theater, I started to cry. Call me what you will, but from the looks of it, this was gonna be my kinda movie. So the litmus test for the actual movie was simple, cry and it’s not only a weeper, but also a keeper, but if it failed to do that, then it would have been a failure in my mind. Well, mission accomplished. The wells flowed, even dough I saw every turn coming in this true-life story where every turn was a wrong one until the very end. There’s nothing overly special about this rags to riches story, but its simplicity is what makes in simply franztastic. Will Smith’s performance isn’t necessarily for your consideration for anything, but a giant step in the right direction, hispeically when dem steps be far away from the guns and ammo that fill his usual forgettable summer blockbusters. His real life son Jaden Christopher Syre Smith, who plays his kid in the film, isn’t the next Dakota Fanning, or Elle Fanning for that matter, but he sure is the cutest darn thing dat I ever did see. Sure makes me want to have 12348128489134 children just like him. Think Gabrielle is ready for our Union yet?

Unsatisfied with this?: for some mo intentionally misspelled titles Netflix Kalifornia, Pet Sematary I & II, Nobody’s Perfekt which should not be confused with American Perfekt, The Search for Signs of Inteligent Life in the Universe, Encounter in the Thrid Dimension, or get yer bounce on wit Disney’s The Gummi Bears

Possible Porno Name: The Leisure Suit of Mr Happy Pants

Stanley’s Rubik Cuberick: the cube plays a minor role in the film, so why not learn how to solve it, play it online, peep the Magic, peep the Rubik art, reminisce about the cartoon on X-Ent or peep its intro!

Apt MPupil3: ‘Teach Your Children‘ [d] by CSNY

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): I really shouldn’t be doing this, but there aint a thang wrong wit dis one Breast In Show

until next thyme, the balcony is clothed…

The Prestige & The Fountain
A HUGHe Step In The Right Direction
Pres Trailer & Fout Trailer

In the battle of the ’06 magician movies (we won’t even bother includin the Woodman’s Scoop on this war) The Prestige is leaps and gagged and bounds mo better butter than The Illusionist [review], which was by and far the bestest Paul Giamatti film of the year. I mean, how can anyone compete with Batman & Alfred AND The Great White Duke & Smeagol all in one movie? Hell, this puppy is so darn good that I deem it the most re-watchable outta all the Christopher Nolan joints. Yes, even more so than Memento, which had much more thinking involved, but wasn’t nearly as fun as Prestige.

When Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett and yer 70 million $ budget for yer pet film project about the search for eternal life past, present, and future suddenly vanishes like D.B. Cooper, what is one to do? While most would move on, Aronofsky continued on, and not too shabbily, despite losing 30 or so of dem millions, with Hugh Jackman and his super dope fiancee Rachel Weisz. While most people don’t know the backstory of The Fountain‘s black plagued production, and probably won’t know or care in generations to come, I believe it should be taken into consideration when viewing it. You have to accept and embrace it for what it is instead of what it could have been. Aronof had to compromise his original vision, but the finished project is not a total loss, even if it is a giant mess. The Fountain is a lot like Spielberg’s mammoth undertaking of Kubrick’s unrealized A.I.… it’s seems incomplete, but the filmmaking is so effin gorgeous that I’d rather it eggzist in some form than not all

Unsatisfied with this?: peep Andy Serkis rock out with Tenacious D

Possible Porno Name: The Pressed Teets & The Fountain of Poo

Apt MPupil3: ‘Magic’ [d] by The Cars

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Pres, Breast In Show & Fout, despite its flaws, Jeepers Worth A Peepers

until next thyme, the balcony is clothed…

The Beatles’ Love
All You Need Is Love? Maybe. Maybe Not…
preview the ‘bum

It’s extremely hard to not like an album that has the Beatles’ name plastered on its cover. Even though they haven’t released a proper album since the Let It Be soundtrack in 1970, they certainly have had plenty of releases all worth owning. Some include the two Past Masters, the BBC Sessions, Let It Be… Naked, and of course the Anthology double disc sets, which prove that even outakes and throwaways by the Fap Fab Four are still magical mystery tours all their own. And now comes along the soundtrack to the highly popular Cirque du Soleil Vegas’ show Love, which is based off of the Les of Beats’ hefty catalog

I have not seen Soleil’s moon frye/show, so I cannot vouch for it as a soundtrack. But as a Beatles’ album, it’s purty much a hybrid of the red (1962-1966) and blue (1967-1970) greatestist hits discs. But there is one big ‘twist’ that makes Love stand apart from it’s predecessors: all dem songs are strewed together in a 2nd half of Abbey Road medley stizz. Mixed with great care by fifth Beatle/producer George Martin and his son Giles (he couldn’t be any more British, unless his middle name was Nigel, snatch!), the results are enjoyable for expert textperts or even joking smokers. However, with the artistic license to ill from the surviving members and widows, the father-son duo could have pushed the envelope much much much further. Sure, some of the mash-up songs are down right thumcredible (give hispecial listenage to ‘Drive My Car’, which incorporates ‘What You’re Doing’, ‘The Word’ AND the thrashin guitars of ‘Taxman’), but apparently the Martins didn’t pick up on what everyone else was going ga-ga over back in the ’04: Danger Mouse’s mousterpiece, The Grey Album. Had they let Brian Burton spin the wheels with Apple Corps’ core goodies, who knows what thumbmazinness could have come about. While we willie ponder such fantasies of ‘what if’, I’m still happy to be in (to) Love

Cum Stock D-lode This: ‘Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite!/I Want You (She’s So Heavy)/Helter Skelter‘ [d]

Unsatisfied with this?: go to any used CD store and purchase the Beatles’ Anthology sets 2 & 3

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): like this tee, I have reservations, but ultimately after listening to it non-stop for a week Breast In Show

until next thyme, the balcony is clothed…