Thighs Wide Shut

Speed Racer
Game Boy Color Blinding
Trailers & Mo

For a movie (and main character) called ‘Speed Racer’, this puppy moves purty darn slow. The imagery is mos def cooler than Coolio drinking Kool-Aid, but if yer looking for a non-stop car racing action feast, yer better off staying at home and rocking Mario Karts Wii for 2+ hours instead. Not for a lack of trying, but beyond the trippy visuals and egggsalad casting (C Ricci and her sexy anime eyes!), the brothers Wachowski executed this big screen adaptation of the cult 60s toon very poorly. A lot of time is wasted on the politics involved in the film’s racing world, but it’s not interesting and doesn’t help to make the races any more important. They’re kinda like the pod race in Star Wars Episode I, which served no real purpose besides showing off what Lucasfilms’ CGI group is capable of. Like Tron and Dick Tracy, Speed Racer would be the perfect flick to throw on in a loud bar, cause if anyone had to pay attention to the story, they’d apply the breaks, go in reverse and get the hell outta there

Fanning The Next Dakota: move over Gade, cause you’re no longer the mos adorable child actress named Ariel. that title now belongs to Ariel Winter, who played kid Trixie

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

Forgetting Sarah Marshall
We Probably Will, In Another Week Or So
Trailers & Mo

Forgetting Sarah Marshall is like every other Judd Apatow related project, it’s cute, got some solid laffs here and there, but ultimately is not the greatestist thing to happen to comedy since Rufus T Firefly. Marshall is probably the mos conventional one of the bunch (we didn’t care much for Superbad or Virgin, but did for Knocked-Up), yet with so many crap options out there for you to take your honey to, it’s a more solid choice than anything starring McDreamy or McD-bag. After about an hour, the comedy takes a backseat to the romance shiz, and or main problem with the flick is that the love story didn’t really pull our heart strings enough to care enuff about it (we also don’t have a heart, thanks to Mola Ram). Our secondary problem is Jonah Hill. Has there ever been a more one-noted actor who’s received this much buzz for no good reason? He’s about as humorous as King of the Hill is (how is that show still on TV?). We’re sure he’ll suck all of the good air outta Ricky Gervais’ directorial debut This Side of the Truth, and that’s all sides of the truth, Ruth!

Sarah Marshalls Trying To Forget: these real life Sarah Marshall‘s were not big fans of the film’s marketing and advertising campaign

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

both films are currently playing at a theater near Jews

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

The Babysitters
Don’t Tell Mom The Babysitter’s Banging Dad
Trailers & Mo

The central idea behind The Babysitters, where high school girls earn extra cash by sleeping with the lonely midlife crisised fathers of the kids they’re sitting, has ‘hottest porno ever’ written all over it. Alas and molasses, this is no wet dream come true, but a nightmarish, and sometimes a bit amateurish, drama that deals with the truths and consequences of such dangerous liaisons between the jailbaiters and sleazy old men (anytime you see John Leguizamo in a film, you juss know bad stuff is going to happen). It’s tough to tell who had a more uncomfortable time watching this film, us, who needed to take 3,231,455,209 showers afterwardszz to rid ourselves of the dirty feeling it soaked into our skin, or Sam Waterston, whose adorable daughter Katherine leads this quasi-prostitution racket and bares the word found in between ‘pros’ and ‘ution’. The film is tough to recommend, and probably is a leading candidate for wurst date movie of 2008, but it’s still worth a look. Although, as our screening guest Jewanicur perfectly suggested, this woulda worked a lot better had it been a series on HBO. We see Mary Elizabeth Winstead as the teenage madame, and yours drooly as her first customer

Titillating Title: Katherine can next been seen, with her equally adorable sister Elisabeth, in some Tom Arnold vehicle called Good Dick

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

The Fall
Autumn Leaves Blow
Trailers & Mo

The Fall is the most beautiful film you never need to see. It’s like The Princess Bride with all the grandeur and imagination, but without any of the fun or fluidity. Our Columbo/Kevin Arnold duo here is an injured movie stuntman (Lee Pace, the dreamy piemaker from Pushing Daisies), who passes his dreary bedridden days by cheering up a peculiar little Romanian girl (Catinca Untaru), also staying at the same hospital, with tall tales of high adventure around the globe (supposedly the film was shot in 20+ different countries, over four years). We have to give director Tarsem (who made one of the besesteststest music video mt EVERest: REM’s ‘Losing My Religion’) sum credit. He’s a true visionary who hands in an udderly breathtaking piece of work, but the whole thing is too darn overbloated and ultimately purty darn boring, which was the same diarrhea that muddled his debut, The Cell. If he can ever find a way to tell a story as well as he can paint a cinematic canvas, he’d easily be considered one of the top directors in the bidness. Until that time, he should hire himself out to others to help make their visions a surrealealtiy

Pushing Hotties: our heroine Justine Waddell looks a lot like the chick on Pushing Daisies, Anna Friel [here NSFWlicious]. she also resembles deceased sexpot Natalie Wood, whom she played in a telepic directed by Pete Bogdanovich

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

The Tracey Fragments
& Noise
Boxed Out & Drowned In Sound
Tracey Trailers & Mo & Noise Trailer

Looking for a double feature that will assault both your eyes and ears, and not in a good way? Then look no further cause The Tracey Fragments and Noise have arrived to annoy the crap outta any audience watching either one of em. Tracey is a student film on Sparks about a teenage misfit (the role musta been a big stretch for Ellen Page, eh?) looking for her lost brother right before a big blizzard is about to hit Winnipeg or something. She’s solid as per usual, but the rest of the actors need a couple more months at theater camp. The film has a gimmick running throughout: more split screens than Mike Figgis’ Timecode and every season of 24 combined! After about 8 seconds, the split screens will start to give you a splitting headache, but watching all the goings on in the boxes does sorta-semi-kinda-quasi-hold your attention. Luckily the flick is only 77 minutes, so it’s bearable, but if it was 78 minutes, it would have been unbearable

Noise has a better plot to boot, but after about 15 minutes, the film has already exhausted its premise of Tim Robbins as the wurstest superhero of the summer, the Rectifier, who takes upon himself to rid New York City of car alarms with his own brand of street justice. The rest of the flick is filled with Robbins trying to enjoy the peace and quiet, and then suddenly, wouldn’t you juss know it, a car alarm goes off, and in turn sets him off. It goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on, and then William Hurt shows up and hams it up even more than he did in A History of Violence (we wouldn’t
be sirprized if they gave him an Oscar nom for this awful performance like they did for Violence). You’ll eventually start to sympathize with Robbins’s character cause you’ll want him to turn off the sound from this movie

Fenella Woolgar/Benedict Cumberbatch Bestest Name Future HOFamer: Tracey‘s emo beefcake Slim Twig

C’mon Bring The Noise: we wonder what’s more irritating, Noise or Timmy Robbins’ band Gob Roberts

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Tracey gets a Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges, while Noise gets our first Slit Your EARS Off Repoopulous

OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies
(OSS 117: Le Caire – nid d’espions)
The Man With The Not So Golden Pun
Trailers & Mo

OSS 117 is a French spy comedy devoid of any humor. Maybe something got lost in the translation, cause to our ears (and eyes, since we were busy reading subtitles) there were no jokes or gags present, and therefore, there’s nothing much to laugh it. It doesn’t take itself serious enough to be considered a drama either, so picture is a bit of an enigma. At least the Goldfingeresque mise en scène is spot on our Bondian super agent Jean Dujardin is so darn endearing and having a good time onscreen that you’ll at least crack a smile. Hopefully they’ll work on the funny a bit more when the sequel drops next year (at least in France)

We Want To Bond With These Fatale Femmes: meet the eye candy that be Aure Atika and Bérénice Bejo, both NSFWers. here’s a nic pic of BB

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

all five films open in limited release today

Rental Round-Up Dawg:

We missed The Great Debaters on its theatrical run, but it played juss fine in a home viewing environment. It runs a little too long, and is overly sentimental, but you can’t help but get swept up by this true story of a historically Black college that broke the racial barrier with their minds and mouths. Be sure to czech out the bonus feature where director Denzel interviews the actual living members of the Wiley College team

As for I’m Not There [TWS review], it’s probably the most overlooked and underloved film of 2008 (well, besides Before The Devil Knows Your Dead [TWS review]). Unlike our buddy Tarsem (and heck, a lotta damn directors), Todd Haynes knows how to blend style and substance seamlessly. The guy’s got a huge hard on for movies and music and he’ll turn you on too with this picture about the personas and myths of Bob Dylan. Watching the movie, you won’t learn a thing about Dylan, but if you pop on the muss muss listen to commentary by Haynes, you’ll discover how much of a genius he and this film truly are. It was recorded post-Ledger’s death, and when Heath’s first scene comes on, it’s hard for even him to watch

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Mister Lonely
Off The Wall
Trailers & Mo

Ever imagine what would happen if Michael Jackson and Marilyn Monroe visited an old age home together? Or if Buckwheat and Shirley Temple played in a chicken coop? Or if Queen Elizabeth had sex with Pope John Paul II? Probably not, but then again you don’t have the wondrous and twisted imagination that Harmony Korine has. Yeah, remember him, the wunderkind who wrote Kids (a movie we couldn’t see as a Freshman in college because it was NC-17 and we hadn’t turned 18 yet) and had his last painful effort Julien Donkey-Boy drop 9 years ago? Lettuce not dwell on what the hell he’s been up to this past decade and instead celebrate his triumphant return to cinema with Mister Lonely, his ode to celebrity impersonators that could end up being the funniest movies of the year, which isn’t produced by Judd Apatow, let alone have any jokes or gags in it

Diego Luna (the more dreamy Y tu Mama-er in our opinion) has enough trouble juss being himself, so by day he works the streets of Paris as a Michael Jackson impersonator. Although he’s got the costumes and all the right MJ moves down pat, he doesn’t speak the language and has trouble fitting in with the rest of society. That is until he crosses paths with a faux Monroe, played with heart-breaking bestness by Samantha Morton (is there any better set of eyes in acting today?), who whisks him away to a kooky, yet friendly neverland colony of other impersonators (Abe Lincoln, James Dean, the Three Stooges, Madonna, etc), which is run by Morton’s husband, an asinine Charlie Chaplin mimic (their screen daughter is actually played by Morton’s real life daughter Esme, who also has the same set of piercing eyes). In a seemingly unrelated side story, director Werner Herzog plays a priest guiding the light of a bunch of flying nuns (maybe they’re Sally Field impersonators?). Wha?

So what do all these shenanigans add up to? On the surface it sounds like a movie that’s weird juss for the sake of being weird, and in fact it is, but it’s also one of the more brilliant films we’ve seen in quite awhile. Korine’s movies are hard ones to recommend without reservations, but for those with an open mind, you’ll find it to be earnest and endlessly hilarious, although we can’t we still can’t tell if it’s intentional or not

Good Cover Version: what do Sophie Ellis Bextor, Elton John, Robbie Williams, Liam Gallagher, Phil Collins, Kylie, David Bowie, Bjork, Bono, Missy Elliot, George Michael, J-Lo, Paul McCartney, Craig David, Tom Jones, Keith Richards, Kurt Cobain, Rod Stewart, Meat Loaf, Cher, J Kay, Brian May, Mick Jagger Gary Numan and Jarvis Cocker all have in common? They’re impersonators star and sing in Pulp’s video for ‘Bad Cover Version’ [PulpWiki]

Recycled Linky Poo: we posted this a week or so ago, but now it’s more apt… Who Korine would like to be

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

Son of Rambow
Kids Film The Darndest Things
Trailers & Mo

Apparently this is the year of overly cutesy movies about DIY filmmaking. Be Kind Rewind [TWS review] was the first out of the gate, but it couldn’t elevate itself much beyond it’s fly-arsed premise. Son of Rambow fairs a wee bit better, as it only tackles one homage instead of Gondry’s not so sweet dozen or so sweding fest, but it too is far from perfect. Rambow centers on two misfits growing up in the 80s, a bully and a sheltered kid hailing from a deeply religious family, who strike up an unlikely partnership and eventual friendship (woah, didn’t see that twist coming) by shooting their own take on the Sylvester Stallone classic. There has to be some drama thrown into the mix, so when other schoolmates join the sheltered kid on the set, much to the dismay of the bully, the two begin to drift apart. How it plays out is anyone’s guess, and if yer not really good at guessing, you’ll probably still guess correctly as to how it plays out. Regardless of its predictability, and under-usage of Ed Westwick (Gossip Girl‘s Chuck Bass) in a throw away role as the bully’s brother, the look, feel and vibe of Hammer & Tongs (the dudes who made Hitchhiker’s Guide and Blur’s ‘Coffee & TV’ video)’s second joint will keep you satisfied enuff from shooting an arrow thru yer head with a ramBOW

Family Ties: the minor role of Danny is played by Sam Kubrick-Finney, son of Anya Kubrick, who’s the daughter of Stanley. Here’s a pic of young Danny with his ma [wiki]

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

Redbelt
Martial Broken Law
Trailers & Mo

David Mamet and mixed martial arts. Doesn’t sound like a match made in heaven on paper, and on film, it’s a match made in limbo, as his latest, Redbelt is a mixed bag of martial artistry. His protagonist, Chiwetel Ejiofor (as always, perfectly chiwing up the scenery) is an honorable teacher of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, who, like mos Mamet characters, gets caught up in some sorta con game that throws him outta his element, and some
how involves Ricky Jay and his real-life wife Rebecca Pidgeon. The con is set up after Ejiofor saves Tim Allen’s life (although we wish he saved the world from any more Santa Clause flicks), and then TA & his Hollywurst cronies coerce him into one of those UFCish tournaments that he’d rather have nothing to do with, cause you see, he’s very honorable, and if we don’t keep reminding you, the film will. The ride to the big dance is swift and striking, like a karate chop to the neck, but as soon as the final showdown begins, this baby turns into some D-grade Jean-Claude Van Damme junk. Enter the ring at your own risk

Off The Street Fighting Men: czech out the Street Sports Jiu Jitsu blog run by Mamet’s own BJJ master, film consultant and bit actor Renato Magno

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

all three flicks open in limited release today

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Standard Operating Procedure
Sure To Abu Ghraib Your Attention
Trailers & Mo

A picture is worth a thousand words, and in the case of the numerous horrific ones taken at Abu Ghraib prison in 2004, it’s impossible to figure out the context of them without hearing the thousands of additional words provided by the people in the photos and those who took them. That’s the task the masterful Errol Morris (Fog of War/Thin Blue Line) has set up for himself, as he’s the latest director to join the ‘this war on terrorism really sucks’ documentary fray. Procedure is a searing investigation that lets five out of the seven ‘bad apple’ indicted soldiers finally have their say (the other two who were not interviewed are still in prison). From a distance, the soldiers are the poster children for everything wrong with the war, but when we examine them close-up, they seem more like victims (especially poor Lynndie England), who were thrown under the bus by our government that would gladly point their fingers at anyone that isn’t themselves. Morris doesn’t assign blame or even exonerate the accused, but he’s raising the right questions in this complex morality tale, where it’s hard to distinguish what’s illegal and what constitutes, wait for it… standard operating procedure. Clocking in at almost two hours, Procedure leaves no stone unturned, and after awhile, it can be a bit tiring, especially with the endless reenactments filling the void of not having any moving pictures. This isn’t as required viewing as No End In Sight is, but if yer looking to take a similar Taxi Ride to the Dark Side, give it a go

He Can’t Quit His Day Job: in order to pay the billz, Morris shoots a lotta commercials

Right Here, Right Now: is there any butter time to break out one of our mos flavorite links… Doing A Lynndie

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

Roman De Gare
Ghostwriter’s Recon
Trailers & Mo

Claude Lelouch’s Roman De Gare is a feast for those who love a movie with boundless twists and turns. The double Ts may unfurl at a snail’s pace, but nonetheless, they’re satisfying enough for you to watch the lives of a best selling author (Fanny Ardant), an abandoned woman (Audrey Dana), and a curious stranger (Dominique Pinon, that lil dude in all those Marc Caro/Jean-Pierre Jeunet flicks) intersect. This slow burning treat reminded us a lot of François Ozon’s Swimming Pool, where the lines between fact and fiction were delightfuly blurred. Luckily for us though, De Gare‘s bushless [NSFW]

Body of Work: Lelouch has not only produced a bunch of beautiful films, but a bunch o’ beautiful children as well. Say bonjour to his lil hotties (that we could find snaps of) Salomé, Sarah and Shaya (the last two appear in Roman)

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

both films open in limited release today

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Where in the World
Is Osama Bin Laden?
Unintentionally Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World
Trailers & Mo

When reviewing the super gimmicky, yet super effective Super Size Me [TWS review] we flazamed, we ‘don’t see much of a future for [director/McDonalds ingester Morgan] Spurlock, unless he attempts to eat Popeyes every day for a year.‘ Well, Spurs didn’t heed our advice for his follow-up and decided to tackle a topic, which many of his fellow documentarians have recently taken up ad nauseum, that is way out of his league. Ya see, not like anyone really cares, but Morgs is about to have a baby with his wife Alex, and being a pseudo-adult, he’s wondering if this world is safe enough for a kin of Spurlock. So he takes it upon himself to find out by heading to the Middle East hot spots and try to answer the film’s title problem. Or so it seems, but it’s like he’s going up the river without a paddle, or even a boat. If he wanted to answer that golden question, he needed to speak with an entirely different set of people. Not that it woulda mattered anywayz, cause even if he did met with more appropriate talking heads, he wouldn’t have posed the right questions. The (wo)man-on-the-street interviewees we do get to spend time with are worth listening to, but the vanilla queries he poses shoulda given birth to a title more fitting like, Hey You Muslims, What Do You Think About America and Americans? A for the sorta effort pal, but B for stick to the burgers

Photochop Salad: is there anything butter than Super Thighs Me?

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges

Constantine’s Sword
Holy Cross To Bear
Trailer & Mo

James Carroll is one incredible man. He’s a former Catholic priest turned outspoken writer and critic of the Church’s policies and practices, yet he has always remained a man of deep faith and devotion. His book Constantine’s Sword: The Church and the Jews – A History, if you couldn’t guess, explores the deep connection between antisemitism and the Catholic Church’s ongoing love affair with it, from the death of Jesus, to Constantine’s conversion to Christianity, to Hitler’s final solution. Six years after the book’s successful release, soft-spoken, but hard knocking Carroll has teamed up with filmmaker Oren Jacoby to deftly paste images to the text. In the doc, the two go a step further and draw parallels from past actions, where church and state walk hand in hand, to the present day, where America seems to be involved its own holy war against Islam. All of this may not sound like some revelatory epiphany, but it’s refreshing to have someone from within examine it, instead of the usual suspects, aka the Jews. Yes, even us Jews are sick of Jews talking about antisemitism

Carroller: don’t confuse our man JC with the other JC, of Basketball Diaries fame

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

The First Saturday in May
Win, Place, Show & Tell
Trailer & Mo

If you can decipher what event the title of this doc is referencing than you’ll be more downs than Churchill to czech it out. If not, don’t be afraid, cause it’s never too late to make a run for the roses. Still haven’t figured out what the devil and Max Devlin we’re talking about yet, even with the pic of all the purty horses above? The event is The Kentucky Derby, the first and most important leg of horse racing’s Triple Crown, and it’s been held every year since 1875 (although the inaugural race didn’t land on the first Saturday in May, BASTARDS!!!). This doc isn’t a history of the event, but a look at six colorful trainers, from all different backgrounds, and their beloved equines, as they attempt the impossible: have their horse become one of lucky twenty thoroughbreds, out of the 40,000 born each year, to be selected to run in the derby. The directors, the brothers Hennegan, couldn’t have picked a more perfect year to follow, 2006, the year of Barbaro. If that doesn’t ring any bells, we won’t expound any further, so you can experience the ride from start to photo finish. The Derby is known as ‘the most exciting two minutes in sports’, and it’s a pleasure to have a film that documents everything leading up to it, which may not be as exciting, yet is equally as fascinating

What’s In A Name: a site all about how Barbaro got his

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Jeepers Worth A Peepers

all flicks open in limited release tomorrow

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…