Thighs Wide Shut

Happy-Go-Lucky
Lucky Charms
Trailers & Mo

When a Mike Leigh film is released, without question, you should go and see it. The man is incapable of bad filmmaking, and if you’ve seen anything he’s made, we’re sure you’ll agree. If the titles Naked, Vera Drake, All or Nothing, Meantime, Topsy-Turvy or Secrets & Lies don’t sound familiar, then you need to familiarize yo-self with them pronto tonto! They all are rich works that explore the banality of everyday (British working class) life, rife with both heartwarming and heartbreaking moments that are so genuine you’ll have a hard time ever forgetting them. The same is mos definitely true with his latest, Happy-Go-Lucky, although it’s more on the heartwarming than breaking side. Leigh knows how to assemble a top notch ensemble cast (he’s like a British Altman or Woody Allen), and has the magic touch to bring out especially amazing performances from his leading ladies. He’s put brilliant, yet relatively little known (at least stateside) veteran actresses Imelda Staunton, Brenda Blethyn and Marianne Jean-Baptiste on the map, by guiding them all to their first (and in some cases, maybe last) Best Acting Oscar nomination. It will probably happen a 4th time with Sally Hawkins (a Leigh regular player, and last seen as Colin Farrell’s neurotic lady in Woody’s Cassandra’s Dream), the happy-go-lucky title gal, who has been rightly buzzed about as one of the five possible females gunnin for the top spot at the 2009 Academy Awards. Her performance as the appropriately nick-named Poppy is a pure revelation, even more so than what Anne Hathaway done did in Rachel Getting Married (it’s common knowledge that Hath’s a great actress, but we guess she needed to stop being cast as a princess for everyone to realize it). Nothing can drag the lovely Poppy down, eggcept when she sees bad things happening to the students she teaches (the more tender bits of the film). When her bike gets stolen, she treats the news with a shrug and then carries on with her footloose and fancy free day. Ms Sunshine has run-ins with negative Nancies all over town (including her beyond no-nonsense driving instructor Eddie Marsan, another uber-brills Leigh regular) and she tries her best to raise a smile outta them all. While it doesn’t work 100% with the grumpy Guses onscreen, it will with everyone off-screen. A splendid time is guaranteed for all, and tonight, Mr Kite won’t be topping the bill

Happy-Go Hunting: czech out Leigh’s extensive shooting locations tour that he gave Time Out London. we will, as soon as we complete our life’s goal of visiting the Clockwork Orange locales

Verdictgo: Breast In Show

Body of Lies
Body Ardor
Trailers & Mo

The fictional modern warfare flicks they be puttin in theaters these days that star terrorism as public enemy #1 have been more dud-ly than Dudley Do-Right doing lots of wrong. We’d almos rather be sent to Guantanamo than sit thru Traitor, Rendition, War, Inc. or You Don’t Mess With The Zohan again. And that’s what makes Body of Lies a lot more enjoyable than it actually is. It’s nuttin but a generic espionage thriller that’s elevated to popcorn pleaser-land by Ridley Scott’s usual solid direction (it’s no 1984 Apple commercial, but hey what is?), Leo DiCaprio‘s dedication to his role (he speaks Arabic! yet wanders around the Middle East undercover wearing a baseball cap in land where no one wears baseball caps!), and a heckulva lot of explosions across the globe (although Bret and Jemaine are the true Boom Kings). Russell Crowe‘s the other marquee name, but he doesn’t really add much tat all, considering he’s mostly phoning in his performance. And we don’t juss mean that figuratively, since he’s the pencil pushing CIA guy back in the states calling the shots via his blue-toothed cellphone. His lack of presence is made up by admirable supporting work by Mark Strong (also crazy good in RocknRolla), Simon McBurney (‘that guy’ with ‘that voice’ whom we love oh so much) and Leo’s Muslim Florence Nightingale, Golshifteh Farahani. Yesh, there’s a lil Old/New
world romance between Leo and a nurse, and while it may feel out of place with the rest of what’s going on, it makes a nice diversion to the diversion that we’re already watching. The film reminded us a lot of the Robert Redford-Brad Pitt burner Spy Game, which was not so oddly enuff directed by Ridley’s brother Tony. Come to sphinx of it, this fluffy-nutter movie may have been better off in his brother’s hands. Probably would been a bit mo flashy and fun, like Man On Fire and Domino. Come to sphinx of it part II, we kinda heart Tony more than we do Ridley, and that aint no lies, cause we have a Body of THIGHS!

AKA-47: although named after the book of the same name by David Ignatius, there were some other working titles for the film, including Penetration. wonder why they didn’t run with that one? and what, Going Under Covers wasn’t ever an option?

Verdictgo: Jeepers Worth A Peepers

Go-Lucky opens in limited release today, while Lies and The Duchess expands to play at a theater new jews

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

the Emmys blow and you know it, but this ad above (click it to expand) doesn’t. horton reads a who’s who here [AdFreak via FotCCUFS]

there’s the Gregorian calendar, the Chinese calendar, the Jewish calendar, the Mayan calendar (the world ends in 2012, hip-hop hooray!), even a lunar Thigh calendar, but you can keep all those useless timekeepers, as there’s only one yearly schedule that really turly, madly, deeply matters: the NFL schedule. for us the new year started last Thursday nite, as our beloved Skins were outplayed, outclassed and OutKasted by the Giants, and in turn, boring the shiz outta America, and even though we’re still sour from that nite, life has begun again cause FOOTBALL’S RETURNED (!!!) and everything else can lick lamb fries. Sunday was so glorious, watchin all the 1 o’clocks at our ye favorite dumphole (we still don’t understand how you West Coasters watch games at 10 in the morn), and hispecially since we drafted Michael Turner in 3 outta our 4 leagues, and didn’t take Tom Brady in any of em

OK, so there’s more to life than fooball, like buying the log flume from Coney Island’s recently deceased Astroland for $199,000 (hopefully it includes the water that probably hasn’t been changed since 1962). there’s several items for sale, so get em while the gettins gettin. we say good riddance to this dumphole, as they never had rides worth riding, cept The Cyclone, which of course is staying put

there was another bit of closure that edward james almos brought tears to our thighs. Siskel & Ebert & Roeper & Phillips is no mo. their final show was a few weeks back, but their final review was of Vincent Chase’s Medellín on last nite’s season pre-shmear of Entourage (a show that’s about as fresh and original as Anna Faris’ lips, but of course we’ll watch every single episode). taking over Ebert & Roeper & co at At The Movies are two nepotismised Bens, Lyons (Jeffery’s son) and Mankiewicz (his grandfather Herman won an Oscar for co-penning the Citizen Kane script). we watched the Bens’ first episode with an open mind, but weren’t that impressed (these two guys are more apt for the Entourage audience). we don’t want to bash our fellow critics, so we’ll juss quote what someone else said: Lyons is such an empty vessel [that] Richard Roeper is Pauline Kael by comparison. This is supposed to be At The Movies, not Rated K: For Kids By Kids. luckily there’s news that Roeper & co will return to TV, and we’ll be the first to welcome it back with open arms, and of course thighs. the Bens’ version of At The Movies is still being filmed in Chicago, so Lyons and Mankie will be attending the same screenings that Ebert & Roeper & co are. they all caught The Women last week, and according to The Sun-Times, their ‘exchanges were cordial and friendly‘. damn, we were hoping for poo being flung, or for this headline in the Trib: THERE WAS BE BLOOD!

the Bens weren’t the only duo we took in this weekend, although they were the only unfunny ones. after much delay and malaise on our parts, we finally saw the comedy stylings of Flight of the Conchords‘ Mel, aka Kristen Schaal, and her partner Kurt Braunohler. we’re usually not so big on stand-up comedy, but they did actually make us laff, and how could they not, considering how hilarious Mel’s face is (we mean that in a not mean way cause her face rules, like the cider house). these two kids named Gabe & Jenny opened for K&K, and we’d bone them both cause they also tickled our funny bones. there was also some singer-comedienneee and she’s like a sorta funny Maggie Gynehhahahlllall and that was that

[mo photos from VermiciousKnid]

we also hit up the Buckminster Fuller: Starting with the Universe eggzibit @ The Whitney. dude is the effin da man, even if many of ideas never became a reality. no one else could rock tetrahedrons, octet trussesess, dymaxion thingies (see above) and geodesic domes like R Bucky did! w/o his visionary innerversion visions Epcot Center would be the lamest place on Earth. oh wait, it is, herspecially since Captain EO retired. and can you imagine if his domed stadium for the Brooklyn Dodgers was built? if the owner had found some land in which to put it on they wouldn’ta left for LA and the world would certainly be a better place. oh hell/oh well

of course we gotz our eats on this weekend, and after drooling whilst reading this TONY review of the new hip eatery for clogging the artery calle
d Delicatessen, we immediately ran out da house and tried the Reuben Fritters, Cheeseburger Spring Rolls and Chicken In A Bucket (all described in delicious detail above)! we beyond vouch for all three, although next time we may juss get two orders of the spring rolls and fritters. here sum photos of the hiper than thou restaurant. we cleansed all that grease down with some corn ice cream @ Cones, and we’re happy to report that not only was it yummsicle, but we haven’t had any corn poopies yet!

before we go, all we want to say is that Jelena Jankovic‘s moon pie face scares us

and oh yeah, we struggled to watch all of about 8 seconds of the VMAs. we’re either officially too old to care anymo or MTV blows more than Colon Blow. somehow wethinks both are tru

it’s the end of the world as we know it
and all we can say is…

Spotted: Connor Paolo’s X-Ray nipples

Spotted: tons o’ laces on Nate’s clothing, including his chest AND crotchial area

Spotted: Tinsley Mortimer, who is supposedly some important NYC socialite that we’re suppose to recognize and/or supposedly suppose to care about

Spotted: Serena’s grandmother, actin mo like Max Devlin and less like the Devil, which makes about as much sense as Rudy Giuliani’s presidential campaign

Spotted: Shelley Johnson and her new Bobby Briggs. Sadly Nate’s dad is no Major Briggs

Hearded: ‘I’m Chuck Bass‘ should be the new ‘I Love You‘

Gossip Girl‘s blah-zay season 2 pre-shmear was about as unspectacular as season 1’s finale, and twas about as lively as Blake Lively (read: she’s boring, and sucks, and keeps doing dumb things she can’t explain to her even more boring boyfriend, Dan ‘Uh Uh Uh’ Homefries). Gossip Girl the show can never live up to Gossip Girl the hype. And that’s OK with us, juss as long as they keep rollin out posters like these

Newbie watcher Time Werespanko said it bestest: ‘Gossip Girl is staggeringly shitty in a way that is delicious. It is a trainwreck of horrible writing that simply refuses to stop crashing. I’m at a loss.‘

lettuce pray that the second and juss revealed, the last(!!!!!!!!!SH!T!!!!!!!!!!) season of Flight of the Conchords doesn’t suffer the same diarrhea diorama

Paraguayan javeliner Leryn Franco

American javeliner Lamar Latrell

Jemaine chooses his jemaine (wo)man

you are not what you own: Dischord Records goes digital

Gavin Rossdale’s daughter shows us her BUSH [NSFW]

I Left My Death Star in San Francisco

Zodiac letter receiver Melvin Belli as Star Trek‘s Gorgan [Time Werespanko]

the movie poster quiz [Ross At Our Balls]

geeky stained glass windows [b3ta]

and

slides from a les ghetto IBM presentation about crappy computers of the future!