Thighs Wide Shut

Clash of The Titans
Remember Forget The Titans
Official Website | Trailers & Mo

Clash of The Titans is unwatchable in 3-D, unwatchable in 2-D, 1-D or any other dimension that’s humanly or godly possible.  Imagine a mis-mash-up of HBO’s Rome, Lord of The Rings, Avatar and King Kong, but carbon monoxide copy versions of all of them and you might begin to have the slightest idea of what out loud laughable garbage yer getting yerself into.  Yet you should even come close to getting yerself into a theater that’s playing this.  It’s so lazy and bland and boo that it makes the putrid 300 come off as klassic as Homer’s The Odyssey.  We’d rather waste 12 hours trying to win Nintendo’s bare bones Kid Icarus than ever dare watch this again with a bag of a kid’s licorice.  You’d think that the addition of 3-D would be a gift of the gawds, but it actually helps (or hurts) to show juss how poor and flat the CGI effects were constructed.  Hell, those effects are so busted that they even make the orignal Clash of The Titans look as mindblowing as Terminator 2.   Do yerself a flavor this weekend, skip this, stay home on Saturday and watch yerself a real sword and sandal, man vs immortals epic that still rocks the cashbar 50+ years later: Cecil B. DeMille‘s Ten Commandments

Louis Leterrier is no DeMille, and Sam Worthington‘s time on Middle Earth is coming to end (who keeps hiring this two-note guy? he’s like a less annoying Gerald Buttfingerer in the body of a roided up Pierece Brsnon) and Ralph Fiennes should win 9 Razzies and the only thing about Liam Neeson that shines here is his stoopid armour and Gemma Arterton is cute, but you can also remove the ‘e’ since her and her character should have been cut and Mads Mikkelsen should be mads at his agent and Luke Evans and Liam Cunningham might be the same person and Hans Matheson is Mans Hatheson and didn’t Polly Walker already do this regal lady of the kingdom thing on Rome (WATCH ROME OR ELSE!)  and Jason Flemyng was phlegmy and Pete Postlethwaite carries no weight here and what did the two kids from Skins (Nicholas Hoult & lil sis Kaya Scodelario) do to deserve this?  No one deserves this.  Remakes should either juss remake the original verbatim or up the ante for a whole new generation of people who never bothered to see the original version.  Neither option was applied here.  Actually nothing was applied here. It’s NO myth

Kid & Play: play Kid Icarus

Verdictgo: wurst in show aka Slit Yer Eyes Out Repoopulous

Titans nash-ills in a theater near jews today

and until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Cop Out
Chasing Lame-y
Official Website | Trailer & Mo

Anyone who was involved in the making of Cop Out should not only be embarrassed, but they should personally surrender their paycheck to any audience member who makes the giant mistake of seeing this ‘throwback’ of an 80s buddy cop flick. It’s more of a throw-up than a throwback and all prints of this movie should be burned and have their ashes scattered in the Chernobyl reactor so no one would dare to try and retrieve them. We kinda wonder how Cop Out woulda turned out had it moved forward with its original name, A Couple of Dicks, and original duo, Robin Williams and James Gandolfini! But wonder(ing) is for crappy white bread, so what we’re forced to deal with is Kevin Smith‘s directed take on Robb and Mark Cullen‘s script, although we do wonder how much more awfuler it might have been had Kevin Smith written the script himself

How did this fail more than fail itself? Yes, Kevin Smith’s name doesn’t scream comedy gold or anything remotely good, but pairing Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan does, and yet the end result is Willis looking like a dumbfounded babysitter, as Morgan unbelievably has more screen chemistry with Seann William Scott than he did with Willis. And how could this script ever be considered a 2008 Black Listee, since it seems like there’s a ton of good reasons why it was never produced back then. The plot is this: Willis is suspended w/o pay for a month, which sucks since he has need duckets for his daughter’s wedding, so he decides to sell his Andy Pafko Topps #1 card (a card that hactually has more meaning to us and My Man Markvus, since we used to write Beckett Baseball Card Monthly monthly, during our middle school daze, pleading with them to raise the value of that card since it was Topps’ very very first one!!), but as the sale is about to go down, it gets STOLEN, and then Willis and Morgan have to jump thru hoops (including the likes of Stifler, Susie Essman, Fred Armisen, Guillermo Díaz, Kevin Pollak and his partner Adam Brody?) to get it back! OH NO!!!!! How will it end????? All we’ll say is that the card gets destroyed, his daughter gets married, and every joke found in between, save for a few of Morgan’s improvisations, falls flatter than your 5th grade crush’s chest (we’re gonna keep using this joke for as long as horrid comedies eggist)

OK, there was one redeeming thang about the whole affair: the return of longtime moth-balled synth composer Harold Faltermeyer (Beverly Hills Cop, Top Gun & The Running Man). And the only reason why he was called in was cause Smith wanted him, which is no real sirprize since Faltermeyer scored Fletch and Smith was to make a third Fletch movie, but that spankfully never happened, which restored our faith in a higher being, and if Cop Out is any indication of his Smith’s ability to handle a funny-actioner, lettuce hope that it cements his non-involvement in any future Fletch endeavors, or anything for that matter that has an IQ over the lowest common denominator. For more on Faltermeyer, prick up yer ears to this solid interview with him

De La Soul To Her Hole : we never reviewed Nacho Libre, so butter late than never when dropping love to Ana de la Reguera

Verdictgo: Slit Yer Eyes Out Repoopulous

Cop Out strikes out today at a theater near jews

and until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Happy Tears
Poop Art
Official Website | Trailer & Mo

Mitchell Lichtenstein may bester be known as Roy‘s boy, but not in our book. In our book, which is bound in pleather, he’s the dude who made that decent enuff movie about the girl who has a vagina with teeth that will forever have a place in our heart all cause of this brief but brilliant performance by a dirty old man. We wouldn’t say that our eggspectations were riding high or even anywhere near medium for whatever his follow-up feature was gonna be (unless it was a Teeth prequel involving that dirty old man), but the possibilities of Parker Posey and Demi Moore playing daughters and caretakers to their dear old demented Rip Torn dad, and his whacked-out golddigging Ellen Barkin hobag had us thinking another House of YES!!! Guess we shoulda thought otherwise, as in house of NO!!!!!!!

Don’t know how Lichtenstein couldn’t make this work, with such aces in his hand, but nothing here feels fleshed out, beyond how zany the characters are suppose to appear (they’re like cooky cousins of the Little Ms Poopshoot clan, stuck at home, instead of the road). Lost in the shuffle is a much more interesting side-story involving Posey’s husband (Dexter season 1’s Christian Camargo), who is the son of a renowned deceased artist, having an all-life crisis living in his pop’s shadow. They say you should write what you know, and that bit sounds more up his alley than what we’re chiefly presented with instead. Hopefully Lich knows a lot about dirty old men, cause we’d really like to see that Teeth prequel with the dirty old man

Lichtey Mind Splitting!: papa’s House I, which sits on the lawn of DC’s National Gallery of Art, muss be seen to be disbelieved!

Verdictgo: purty much Slit Yer Eyes Out Repoopulous

Tears opens today in limited release

and until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Valentine’s Day
Dumb, Actually
Official Website | Trailer & Mo

To be purrfuctly honest, we don’t give much of a damn these days about director(/writer/producer/actor) Garry Marshall and his comings and goings (Georgia Rule? Raising Helen?? The Princess Diarrheases??? guess he didn’t have a second The Flamingo Kid in him), and apparently these days Mr Marshall treats his audience in purty much the same way. How else can one explain his putrid Valentine’s Day, one of the sorriest eggcuses for what we humans refer to as a ‘movie’, who’s sole reason for eggistence is so that wives, girlfriends and significant udders round the globe will have something (more like NOTHING) to drag their paramours to this weekend, in what has gots to be one of the more dreadful holidays on the calendar, well, besides New Year’s Eve. What a coincidence then that Garry has already been slated to direct a spin-off of this movie that tackles the waning moments of December 31st. Dear lord, and John, and anyone else who can save us from this unripe tripe that makes He’s Just Not That Into You look like An Affair To Remember

Sure, we’ll admit 10000000% that we are not the target audience of this mushy mush that’s over stuffed with about 117817 plotlines that are about as complicated as multiplying any number with zero. Speaking of zero, that’s about how much we love this cast on a scale of 1 to 22393942444. Without even seeing the movie, the following names alone act as a movie (not-)going repellent to our eyes and ears: Jessica Alba, Kathy Bates (imagine cinema life had she not won an Oscar), Jessica Biel, Bradley Cooper, Eric Dane, Patrick Dempsey, Jamie Foxx (will you peas stop making crap on top of all the good that you have done did?), Jennifer Garner (please shut yer face), Topher Grace, Ashton Kutcher (if only the scripts he were given were restricted to 140 characters), Queen Latifah, Taylor Lautner, George Lopez (sirprizngly, one of the lesser annoying people here), Emma Roberts + Taylor Swift (we’ll give a pass to Hector Elizondo, Anne Hathaway, Shirley MacLaine & Kristen Schaal???). And how about Marshall’s ole musey pal Julia Roberts? Ever time she appears in a movie, they (whomever ‘they’ is) make it out to be some humongo rare event, but why? She’s barely an actress, and they pay her like she was 392923747 Meryl Streepses. They should pay her like she was Emma Roberts! And neither of them should work more than Eric Roberts!!! If the above mentioned peeps are yer kinda peeps, than by all weighs & means, run, do not walk to the theater, for what is the equivalent of drinking a cola that isn’t Coke, Pepsi or even RC

The Marshall Plan: not only does Garry make his audience suffer, but his own family too! he gave some walk on VDay roles to his wife Barbara, children Kathleen & Scott, and grandkids Sam & Lily Marshall-Fricker + one for Jim Belushi’s son Robert as well

Verdictgo: Slit Yer Eyes Out Repoopulous

VD breaks brains, robs wallets today at a theater near jews,

and until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

Nine
La Merda Vita/Pellicola
Trailers & Mo | Official Website

Guido! Guido! Guido! Imagine hearing that name repeated over and over and over, red rover, and then some and some then, in mostly faux’talian accents that are about as Italian as Aunt Jemima, and you’ll begin to have the smallest inkling of how annoying Rob Marshall‘s screen treatment of the hit ’82 Broadway show Nine is possibly be. Actually you have NO idea and won’t unless you see this unbearable mess, but peas be warningsed, you shouldn’t even bother lending your eyes and ears to this supposed valentine for Fellini (and specifically his 8^1/2), Italian cinema and fashion of the 60s that doesn’t seem to have a clue about Fellini, Italian cinema, fashion or the 1960s. It’s purty much the biggest waste of talent since Michael Jordan attempted a baseball career and we attempted to be a breakdancer. It’s also purty much one of the wurstest films of the year

How? Why? Who? What? When? Where? NOHOW! NOWHY! NOWHO! NOWHAT! NOWHEN! and NOWHERE!!!! Daniel Day-Lewis didn’t do himself any favors by taking on the role of Guido (he did do Javier Bardem a favor, sparing the Spaniard the embarrassment), a writer/director who has writer/director’s block and thus can’t get his next movie going (hmmmmmmm, a movie that can’t get going, sounds vaguely familiar) and so he sits on beds, lays on tables, lays on beds, sits in chairs, smokes ciggies, smokes more ciggies, and has wet dreams about women in his life and day wets about the dream women in his life. After each receives a shag or a thought, a wank, a spank or a wink, said lady in question gets to sing about Guido and that’s when the real fun doesn’t begin, it’s also when this borefest never endings. Each song and accompanying dance numba, all taking place on one george BLANDa sound stage, is about as inspired as the last fourteen Saw movies. Sorry Anthony Minghella, but this is no way for your life/career to end

So what about them womenseses, eh? WHATTTA CAST!! But grand casting doesn’t = grand results, esp when yer script was written with poo-poo on a pu-pu platter of toilet paper. Marion Cotillard as Guido’s wife aint half bad, demonstrating some better English skills than the hatchet job she did in Pubic Enemies, but we ended up being more frustrated with her and her hubby than she was with herself and her hubby. Penélope Cruz as his mistress be better at English than Cotillard (and maybe even us), but she was trying an Italian-English tone and so instead of taking two steps fwds, she took two back, and looked scary (and like Big Bird) when she was crying, but did pitch in the mos JO worthy sequence, straddling some pink incline thingie and rubbing ropes around her sick bod so she’s A-OK in our book and pants!! Nicole Kidman plays his starlet/muse, but by the time her part comes into play we were already fidgeting in our seats and wishing we were watching her in Moulin Rouge! instead. Judi Dench be his costume designer and is easily and difficulty the only commendable spoke in this flat wheel, but she’s basically juss redoing her Mrs Henderson Presents presenting. Sophia Loren plays G-dawg’s mum, but we think she was actually playing Jocelyn Wildenstein, blowing kisses and wearing giant crosseses on her chest. And oh yeah, Fergie’s in this as some whore from Guido’s childhood and we wish she got sum whore diseases and shriveled up and died (hactually, we wish we could hop into a time machine to her Kids Inc days and beat her lungs with a bat so she could never sing again and then heaven WOULD be a place on earth!)

And we’ve saved the wurstest of the wurstest for lastest: Goldie Hawn’s spawn, Kate Hudson. Her fashion editor character wasn’t even in the original show, but they added her and the GAWD AWFUL song she sings, ‘Italiano Salad Dressing’, into the mix juss so they can james garner a possible Academy Award nom for Original Song, and may well be on their way to doing so with a Golden Globe^® one in the bag. Speaking of bags, someone should shove this movie into one and bury it for good. If you make the mistake of being dragged to this ‘film’ about a ‘film’, you may want to bring your own bag and place it over your head

Nine Lives: according to Wiki, the three men who played Guido on the B-way run (Raul Julia, Bert Convy!!! & Sergio Franchi) all died young of cancer. lettuce hope the same fate doesn’t extend to dearest DDLewis, even if this movie is one giant cancer!! what a shame, esp for a man who acts so little

Verdictgo: Slit Yer Eyes AND Ears Off Repoopulous

Nine opens in NY/LA/FL?? only this Friday and elsewhere on Christmas

and until next thyme the balcony is clothed…