THE BAT DANCE YOU PRAYED YOU'D NEVER SEE

1. High School Musical 3/Disney Wknd/$ 42.0 Total/$ 42.0
2. Saw V/Lion’s Gate Wknd/$ 30.5 Total/$ 30.5
3. Max Payne/Fox Wknd/$ 7.6 Total/$ 29.7
4. Beverly Hills Chihuahua/Disney Wknd/$ 6.9 Total/$ 78.1
5. Pride & Glory/Warner Wknd/$ 6.3 Total/$ 6.3
6. The Secret Life of Bees/Fox Wknd/$ 5.9 Total/$ 19.2
7. W./Lion’s Gate Wknd/$ 5.3 Total/$ 18.7
8. Eagle Eye/Par-DW Wknd/$ 5.1 Total/$ 88.3
9. Body of Lies/Warners Wknd/$ 4.1 Total/$ 30.9
10. Quarantine/Screen Gems Wknd/$ 2.6 Total/$ 28.8

BAT-DANCE INDEED.
High School Musical 3 opens unsurprisingly at number one, but what’s surprising is that it took Disney until the second sequel to start charging people for it. You’d think those mercenary bastards would have made them start paying the moment the first one became a phenomenon. Not being a kid and not having a kid, this has thankfully blown past me for the last few years. I only know what I read in the papers about this pretty boy with man-bangs who suddenly seems to be everywhere, his disturbingly hot, ethnically ambiguous girlfriend who seems to be bucking the trend of taking off all your pubic hair and their co-star who has already begun to destroy her career by getting a nose job and removing what made her look unique. Because I’m old, my only connection to this film is that it, like the first two, was directed by Kenny Ortega. Yes, the choreographer of Dirty Dancing. Better still he was a choreographer on Xanadu. I won’t say “the” choreographer of Xanadu, because you don’t tell Gene Kelly how to dance. You just suggest to him. And of course he was also the director and choreographer of Newises, but I’m pretty sure both he and Christian Bale are trying to forget that one. He also choreographed all the dancing in Ferris Bueller’s Day off. Again, the cast of High School Musical was either in diapers or not even born when most of this occurred.

A REAL HORROR CHOICE: APPEAR IN A GENRE MOVIE OR DO DINNER THEATER
Saw V opens at number two and the father of all the torture porn horror you’ve seen over the last few years is still going strong mainly because it genuinely has a cringeworthy and unique conceit---do this horrible thing or die this horrific death---whereas all the others are simply about watching people die horribly with not even an attempt at wit behind it. This has also become the franchise to hop on for C-list stars, with Julie Benz (best known as Darla from Buffy and Angel and now on Dexter as Rita) and Megan Good (best known as the Hot Black Girl in any number of films) hopping on the gravy-train this time around. Before them you’ve had such luminaries as Betsy Russell (Private School), Donnie Walberg (yep, New Kid himself), Angus McFayden (Robert The Bruce from Braveheart), Dina Meyer (Dizzy from Starship Troopers), Beverly Mitchell (7th Heaven) and its two biggest stars Cary Elwes (The Princess Bride) and Danny Glover (Lethal Weapon).

GOOD GIRLS GO TO HEAVEN. BAD GIRLS DON’T SEE THE FINAL REEL.
Max Payne is down to number three and also in this is Mila Kunis, playing her native Russian for the very first time. Though you know you’re dealing with fantasy when she’s the boss of a Russian gang in New York, prone to carrying an Uzi around at all times. But I have to say, a hot girl with a firearm still works wonders and another flaw of this movie is that they didn’t have more of it. Like Max, there’s a noticeable lack of bloodshed on her part. First, we don’t see the hot sister of her character naked and second we don’t get enough of her kicking ass. Do they not know what to do with women in an action movie? Oh, wait. They kill the “bad sister” horribly. Yeah, they do know.

NOT EVEN THE LUCK OF THE IRISH COULD HELP
Beverly Hills Chihuahua is down to number four, followed by Pride & Glory at number five and this was my big “almost saw it” movie of the week. What stopped me? Well, first of all the new trailers pretty much let you know that Colin Farrell is a dirty cop from the beginning, whereas the original trailers left it ambiguous. Not a good move. Second, it’s over two hours long and I just didn’t see two hours worth of film in the trailers. I just didn’t. Third, Colin Farrell is in it, so how good could it be? Seriously, the Curse of the Vanity Fair “Next Big Thing” Cover has dogged this man so relentlessly we had to go and get a new hot, short Irishman to replace him (Jonathan Rhys Meyers). I mean, has he made a good film since? He first turned heads in Tigerland, but since then it’s been S.W.A.T., Phone Booth, The Recruit, The New World, Ask The Dust and most noticeably the disaster that was Alexander (he wasn’t the star of either Daredevil or Minority Report, not that they were good). And while I enjoyed Miami Vice, I won’t pretend it wasn’t flawed. He, Matthew McConughey and Gretchen Mol should form a support group.

NOTICE CLONE WARS WASN’T ALLOWED TO HANG AROUND THIS LONG
The Secret Lives of Bees is down to number six followed by W at number seven and Eagle Eye down to number eight! Eagle Eye is still around!?! Seriously!?! What the fuck? Everyone is sucking Spielberg’s dick for this to still be given theater space.

THANKS, BABE. WHAT WAS YOUR NAME AGAIN?
Body of Lies is down to number nine and where’s Sharon Stone? Considering the only reason both Russell Crowe and Leonardo DiCaprio were in the woefully underappreciated Spaghetti Western homage, The Quick & The Dead, is because as producer she fought for both of them, they should have put in a word for the woman who paid their rent for awhile 13 years ago when she was the bigger star. Ungrateful bastards.

THE OLD GENERATION OF PRETTY BOY
Finally, Quarantine closes out the top ten at number ten and also in this looking for a little career boost are Jay Hernandez (who went down this road before with Hostel, showing you how little it can actually do you) and the former Mr. Christina Applegate, Jonathan Schaech. Let this be a warning to you, Zach Efron.

DEATH SAID, “MUTHAFUCKA, CAN’T YOU SEE? YOU STANDING ON MY GODDAMNED FEET.”
Blaxploitation lost a legend with the passing of Dolemite himself, Rudy Ray Moore. If you don’t know who he is then I want you think of the dumbest Black exploitation film of the 70’s, then think of one of the ugliest black men you’ve ever seen as the star speaking regularly in rhyme (he’s now considered a godfather of Rap) and add an all-girl kung-fu army. And that still doesn’t do it justice. At least it was meant to be funny, as it was based on Rudy Ray Moore’s stand up routine.

ANOTHER MYTH BITES THE DUST: NOT ALL BLACK PEOPLE ARE FUNNY
The new fall season’s rollout has finally come to an end and it’s not on a high note. Chocolate News is the latest attempt by a Comedy Central to duplicate a successful show. They say they’re not going to be like The Daily show, which is their first mistake, because there’s a lot you can do with a show that specifically focuses on mocking news with a minority involvement. I mean, you’ve got a Black guy who might just become president. You’d have to be incompetent not to have a field day with that. I personally would do a regular feature about how pissed off Jesse Jackson is that it’s not him. It would write itself! Instead it’s just a bunch of dumb sketches the world could have lived without.

A DIRTY DEED DONE DIRT CHEAP
I won’t pretend I’m the biggest AC/DC fan in the world, but it is nothing less than blasphemy that its new album can only be found at a Wal-Mart. If you didn’t know just how dead the music industry was, now you do. You’d think they’d have the dignity to just give up rather than go this route.

MAXY MAX

1. Max Payne/Fox Wknd/$ 18.0 Total/$ 18.0
2. Beverly Hills Chihuahua/Disney Wknd/$ 11.0 Total/$ 69.1
3. The Secret Life of Bees/Fox Wknd/$ 11.1 Total/$ 11.1
4. W./Lion’s Gate Wknd/$ 10.6 Total/$ 10.6
5. Eagle Eye/Par-DW Wknd/$ 7.3 Total/$ 81.3
6. Body of Lies/Warners Wknd/$ 6.9 Total/$ 24.5
7. Quarantine/Screen Gems Wknd/$ 6.3 Total/$ 24.7
8. Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist/Sony Wknd/$ 3.9 Total/$ 26.7
9. Sex Drive/ Wknd/$ 3.6 Total/$ 3.6
10. Nights In Rodanthe/Warner Wknd/$ 2.7 Total/$ 36.9

MAXY MAX & THE KILLING BUNCH
Opening at number one is Max Payne, a beneficiary of perhaps the most effectively deceptive ad campaign ever. That trailer looks amazing, suggesting a much, much better film about a metaphysical war on earth between good and evil. This, however, is yet another rehash about a cop looking for the killers of his wife and family. It’s not interesting, it’s not well done and I almost fell asleep. Do you have any idea how bad you have to be to put me to sleep? Not having a game console, I’ve never played the game upon which this movie is based, but given that every game not only has a storyline, but usually a pretty intricate one, you’d think just sticking to it would be enough. Well, it probably would have, only they choose not to do that here, jettisoning all but the bare bones of it: May Payne’s wife and daughter were killed by junkies and it has something to do with a drug. What does that have to do with other worldly beings with wings? Nothing whatsoever. And that’s why this movie sucks. It doesn’t stick to the story that made it successful (Max should be on a non-stop bad guy killing spree from the word “go”) and it doesn’t transcend to the images created for this new story. It’s justa fuck up from jumpstreet. And what the point is there in having a slutty sexy character who takes off her clothes and not show the nudity? Stranger still is the character is played by Russian model, Olga Kurylenko, who not only appeared in Hitman, another movie based on a videogame, but she actually did nudity in that one. But the worst part of the moviegoing experience for me was the 99.9% male audience I had to endure in a theater so packed I actually had to sit next to someone. Gamers are just as creepy in their own right as comic books geeks, no matter how mainstream video games may seem and to be trapped in a theater filled with them is not why I get up early on a Saturday morning to go to the movies. I do it to avoid these people who somehow feel the need to wear smelly cologne to an 11:30 am movie showing. Sigh.

SISTAS ARE DOING IT FOR THEMSELVES
Beverly Hills Chihuahua is down to number two followed by The Secret Life of Bees opening at number three and somewhere there are a lot of pissed off Black actresses as this cast includes Queen Latifah, Alicia Keys and Jennifer Hudson, meaning three jobs were lost to people who already have day jobs. All your sacrifice, all your training means nothing compared to a top ten single. And the cruelest irony is the film probably wouldn’t haven’t gotten made anyway had it not had names like Alicia Keys and Jennifer Hudson attached to it. Imagine being a Black actress and learning there’s a film being directed by a Black woman with not one, not two, not three but four prominent roles for Black women, but there’s only one available, because pop stars have taken the other three. It’s like being a White actress and finding out three out of the four available roles in a non-musical film have been taken by Britney Spears, Pink and Christina Aguilera. I think you’d be a little annoyed. Speaking of White actresses, of course one of them is the actual star of this film and that actress is Dakota Fanning, back after her years of childhood overexposure and creeping me the hell out with her pale skin and unnaturally deep voice. It’s about her living with four Black women in the racially charged south of the early 60’s, which is redundant to me because it’s not like there was a part of the south in the early 60’s that was filled with racial harmony. I don’t know much beyond that and I really don’t care. For all I know it’s a prequel to Akilah and The Bee or The Swarm.

HELL ISN’T A PLACE AND IT’S NOT PEOPLE. IT’S BAD, BAD, BAD MOVIES…IN FRENCH
W opens at number four and politics aside, I didn’t see this because I despise both Oliver Stone and his insistence that he’s making films that have something important to say. No, you’re not and no, they don’t. As always, the most intriguing thing about his movie is the casting. Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney (a role he obviously prepared for in The American President), Toby Jones as Karl Rove (he looks just like Truman Capote, so know this is perfect casting), Thandie Newton as Condolezza Rice, Jeffery Wright as Colin Powell and Scott Glenn as Donald Rumsfeld alone are enough to pique my curiosity, but Rob Corddry as Ari Fleischer is just icing on the cake. But in the end, none of this could overcome the fact that is a two-hour political film from Oliver Stone and it would be hard to find better definition of hell for me without it being in a foreign language.

OTHERS
Eagle Eye is down to number five, followed by Body of Lies at number six and Quarantine at number seven.

I NEVER THOUGHT MATURITY WOULD BE MY PROBLEM
Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist is down to number eight and also in this is Aaron Yoo who may be John Cho’s replacement as the ubiquitous Young Asian Male in movies that aren’t about martial arts (he was also in 21, Disturbia and The Wackness). And like John Cho (he’s Harold in Harold & Kumar, you assholes), he’s fucking 30 and looks 15. He and Gabrielle Union have the same deal with the devil. What’s the Asian equivalent of “Black don’t crack”? Kat Dennings, on the other hand, who plays Nora and is best known to most of you as Catherine Keener’s Virgin Goth Daughter in The 40 Year Old Virgin, is 22 which is a relief to me because I adore her and felt seriously creepy for doing because I thought she was in her teens. Now I just feel regular creepy. Kinda like how I feel about Allison Mack who plays Chloe on Smallville. Why was I born without the “lack-of-shame” gene that so many other middle age people seem to have (yes, George Clooney, I’m looking at you).

PATIENT, LAZY; WHAT’S THE REAL DIFFERENCE?
Sex Drive opens at number nine and I did consider seeing this for Seth Green alone so the “The big Mexican won’t go down!” joke was just icing on the cake. It seemed to be a bit more than your usual stupid teen sex comedy. Then I realized this would be on DVD soon with an “Unrated Director’s Cut” which meant tons more nudity so I decided to wait. Wit is great and all, but if you can get wit and full frontal nudity, why not be patient?

YES, I’M GOING TO SPOIL A BUNCH OF BAD MOVIES. SO SUE ME.
Nights In Rodanthe is down to number ten and take look a the Nicholas Spark body count in his work. Now, the commercial makes it clear what happens to Richard Gere when James Franco tells Diana Lane, “You gave my father his life back,” meaning he’s not around anymore to tell her that himself. In The Notebook, Gena Rowlands has Alzheimer’s and then both she and James Garner die. In Message In A Bottle, Kevin Costner dies. In Walk To Remember, Mandy Moore dies. I’m sensing a cheap knee-jerk trend. What hacks like Nicholas Sparks and the illiterates who support him don’t get is that Romeo & Juliet isn’t a great romance because they die. It’s a great romance because they almost make it and it’s the ache of that “almost” that stays with you. Going and dying off camera in a totally separate situation isn’t “almost.” It’s the person getting on a plane in a storm to go see their love and not picking up the phone to find out that other person is already in town. See, I could do that shit and do it better.

DR. JEKYLL & MR.BOND
Lame TV shows continue to roll out and do you remember The Long Kiss Goodnight? The “one” in the “one-two” punch that derailed both the careers of Geena Davis and her then-husband, Renny Harlin (the “two” was of course Cutthroat Island)? Well, for those of you who haven’t seen it, Geena Davis is a very unlikely superspy who loses her memory after she’s shot in the head and becomes a schoolteacher in a small town until and old enemy comes after her causing her memories to awaken. Once back as herself she tries to disavow her small town life until Samuel L. Jackson, the low-rent detective she’d actually hired to help find out about her pas, points out that the schoolteacher personality had to come from somewhere inside her. I bring this up because My Own Worse Enemy is about Christian Slater as a superspy who is deliberately given a separate personality as a boring suburban dad by the government to act as his cover, but for some reason the fake personality starts waking up in the middle of missions and the show is about basically how these two separate people inside the same man have to learn to work together or basically he’ll be killed by the government as a liability. It’s like a combination of The Long Kiss Good Night and True Lies. And Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. Again, first you have to accept Christian Slater as an ass-kicking superspy, which should be a bit easier than accepting him as an air force pilot who can fight 6’2” John Travolta in Broken Arrow, because you’re not paying for it. Because my expectations were low, I didn’t think it was too bad, but you don’t have to be Freud to understand that if the fake personality is now breaking out when it shouldn’t, it’s because the real personality is starting to prefer it. The superspy would rather be a suburban dad. That this never crosses the mind of anyone in the government when problems begin tests your suspension of disbelief more than the 20-something who’s supposed to be a Russian spy Christian Slater has known for a decade (with the horribly original name of “Natasha” if that’s any indication of the creativity present). I will give them credit for not pretending Slater is a kid and not only giving him an age appropriate wife (the absolutely gorgeous Madchen Amick whom I’ve loved since Twin Peaks and who recently appeared on Gossip Girl humping the pretty boy Chace Crawford), but also making one of his children a teenager. The other problem is exactly why he’d need a separate personality to take over when on his down time? As True Lies showed, you don’t need it. It would be one thing if the suburban dad would be deactivated while on otherwise innocuous business trips so the spy to could take over without arousing suspicion, but that’s not what happens here. Basically, it’s a silly premise poorly explored. This year’s Bionic Woman.

HOLY DE-COMPOSING
Death took more from music this week starting with the composer of the Batman TV theme song, Neal Hefti. While the Nelson Riddle Orchestra tends to get most of the credit, he was the actual writer of the famous theme. Also Levi Stubbs, lead singer of The Four Tops died. He was unique in that he was the voice of the group and refused the spotlight over and over again. Always rejected attempts to make him into a solo artist. He was also married for 48 years. Death also took Kim Chan, who was “The old guy” in pretty much any movie where you needed an old Asian dude. He was the butcher in Chinatown in 9 ½ Weeks, the guy who brings Bruce Willis lunch in The Fifth Element, the crime boss in Lethal Weapon 4, etc… You’d know him if you saw him. But honestly, all of these dudes were over 70, so it’s not nearly as tragic as you might think.

GEEK GODDESSES

1. Beverly Hills Chihuahua/Disney Wknd/$ 17.0 Total/$ 52.5
2. Quarantine/Screen Gems Wknd/$ 14.2 Total/$ 14.2
3. Body of Lies/Warners Wknd/$ 13.1 Total/$ 13.1
4. Eagle Eye/Par-DW Wknd/$ 11.0 Total/$ 70.6
5. Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist/Sony Wknd/$ 6.5 Total/$ 20.8
6. The Express/Universal Wknd/$ 4.7 Total/$ 4.7
7. Nights In Rodanthe/Warner Wknd/$ 4.6 Total/$ 32.4
8. Appaloosa/WB Wknd/$ 3.3 Total/$ 10.9
9. The Duchess/Paramount Wknd/$ 3.3 Total/$ 5.6
10. City of Ember/Fox Wknd/$ 3.2 Total/$ 3.2

DOG EAT OLD DOG WORLD
Beverly Hills Chihuahua hangs on to number one and lets take a look at the cast to see who needed a quick payday and who’s struggling to stay relevant. Probably the only person who didn’t need this job was Drew Barrymore, but I cannot help but be amused that when Latinos are regularly replaced on film by Italians and Jews, in a movie where the dogs have to be Latin, they pretty went authentic with the cast consisting of Andy Garcia, George Lopez, Luis Guzman, Cheech Marin, Edward James Olmos and fucking Placido Domingo!?! Actually appearing onscreen are Piper Perabo who may never escape the taint of her would-be breakout film Coyote Ugly (which is sad because she’s not totally without talent) and Jamie Lee Curtis whose second career is now talking about how she’s aging in Hollywood without shame. Yeah, and without a lot of first rate work. Not that I begrudge her some bitterness, because Hollywood is a ruthless place, especially when it comes to aging, but she came from a Hollywood family (Janet Leigh and Tony Curtis and didn’t get either of their looks) so she knew the score going in. What’s more, when she had her brief moment in the sun, what exactly did she do to enact change? Nothing. She bought into the machine, the machine used her and spit her out and now she wants to talk about what’s wrong with it. And while I can even understand regretting doing nude scenes, what she doesn’t regret is the degrading scene from True Lies where she’s forced to strip not knowing that her husband is behind it. That’s all well and good, but that wonderful boob shot from Trading Places is apparently awful.

BABY WANNA EAT YOUR FACE
Quarantine opens at number two and you can thank fucking Cloverfield for bringing back the “shaky POV” cam back from the dead where The Blair Witch Project left it. Needless to say, I will never see this. Shaky nausea-inducing cam and the scary? I think not. I broke my rule for Cloverfield because it had a giant monster lived to regret it. I won’t make that mistake again for vampires or rabies or whatever the hell is in the building. And why would you go when you see the closest thing the movie has to a main character so obviously die in the commercial!?! And there’s the monster baby you also obviously see. Nothing’s as creepy as an evil baby, so you can keep this shit.

BALL OF CONFUSION
Body of Lies opens a number three and you know why? Because no one has the slightest clue as to what this fucking movie is about. Only that it stars Russell Crowe and Leonardo DiCaprio and has something to do with terrorism. The trailer made no fucking sense at all and by the time they recut it and made new commercials, it was too late. It doesn’t even have an interesting title! This could be about banking or cheating spouses. And leave it to Ridley Scott to be so arrogant as to think his movie about terrorism is somehow going to do better than the last 20 that have all come out and been subsequently ignored by the moviegoing populace. And apparently he’s not going to stop until he’s dones as much to destroy Russell Crowe’s career as he’s done to help it. In return for Gladiator (which sucked, by the way) he’s done A Very Good Year (which sucked even more but this time people noticed), American Gangster (much ado about nothing) and now this. Back away from Ridley Scott, Russell. Back away. At least Leonardo DiCaprio has an excuse. Martin Scorcese is making another gangster movie with Robert DeNiro. They always go back their first loves, Leo.

YOU’D THINK GEEKS WOULD BE DIFFERENT BUT YOU’D BE WRONG
Eagle Eye is down to number four and also in this is Rosario Dawson, who is oddly not the geek girl icon that friggin’ Kristen Bell is. Now how Kristin Bell could achieve geek goddess status with just Veronica Mars is beyond me. Never, ever, ever underestimate the power of being thin and blonde. I mean, Rosario Dawson was in Sin City, writes and stars in her own comic book and has science fiction show online. Not to mention she was willing to say “Ass-to-mouth is sometimes okay” onscreen in Clerks II (and I still believe the only reason the movie was made was because Kevin Smith wanted to hear her say that) and has tremendous boobs that she has shown onscreen (actually she did full frontal nudity)! But this is nothing compare to being a skinny, blonde white chick, because Kristen Stewart won’t even take her top off, but yet she rules.

NYC: DIRTY, DANGEROUS AND DAMNIT, THAT’S HOW WE LIKE IT!
Speaking of Kristen Bell, her next movie is called When In Rome and one of her co-stars is Alexis Dziena, who is also in Nick & Nora’s Infinite Playlist, down to number five. She’s the bad girl in this is and is best known for her full frontal nude scene in Broken Flowers (which proved that you can still use it to shock people and make a point if you know what you’re doing). And given she’s a New Yorker born and raised, I’m surprised she didn’t say something to the filmmakers about the mistakes made, not the least of which is the predictable scene where Nick momentarily gets back together with his bad girl girlfriend. While she does a rumpshaking dance in and on-top of his car (to Hot Chocolate's "You Sexy Thing") he predicatably decides such carnal promise isn’t worth the genuine connection he has with Nora and drives off---leaving her alone in a deserted area on the west side at four in the morning. Maybe I’m just old and cranky (okay, so no maybes about it) but I couldn’t help but think of what happened in the real world when a girl from New Jersey in the city to party got raped a killed when she got lost along a part of the west side. This pretty much makes his character a douchebag to abandon her like that. Especially when she was dancing for him. It would have been on thing if she had taken him to another party with her friends and ignored him, so he left. No, she’s trying to entice him and he abandons her. Even worse, the director is a New Yorker born and bred as well and was responsible for the very promising Raising Victor Vargas. He really should have known better. Now you damn kids get off my lawn.

NEXT UP: A TRIUMPHANT STORY OF BADMITON!
The Express opens at number six and apparently we will never run out of inspiring true life sports stories. But at least this one is about football and not some friggin’ golf game or soccer match in the 50’s. Oh, and there’s also some teen movie out about rugby with Dan from Gossip Girl for those people who have been clamoring for more teen rugby movies. This is about the first Black man to win the Heisman Trophy, only to sadly die a little while later, which is why you’ve never heard of him and thought for the longest time it was his classmate, Jim Brown. And why is it real life sports stories tend to have these depressing endings? Doesn’t anyone triumph then go on to live happily ever after? Whenever you hear of a movie about some triumphant sports event you’d never heard of previously, you dread those titles at the end that tell you “After achieving the greatest triumph in the world, Matty Diamond was killed in a car accident on his way to buy drugs he’d become addicted to after falling into a life of prostitution when he was cut from the team a after losing his leg in tragic encounter with a gopher. The gopher was never found.”

THOUGH KNOWING YOU WRITE TRASH SHOULD STOP YOU FROM DOING IT
Nights in Rodainthe is down to number seven and I will give Nicholas Sparks credit: he flat out admits his books were a contrived effort to make a lot of cash, suggesting that even he knows they’re crap..

EVERY GIRL CAN’T SING THE BALLAD OF LITTLE JO
Appaloosa is down to number eight and maybe one day someone will make another revisionsist western about a character like Renee Zellweger’s, who believes that the only way she’s going to survive in the west without being a whore is to always attach herself to the alpha male. It’s not a belief without merit so it’s not an uninteresting story. But like I said before, it’s really got no place in a traditional western. It’s something you’d expect to see on Deadwood. Sorry, it’s something you’d expect to see on Deadwood, you cocksucker.

IF YOUR WIFE HAS GONE AND TAKEN ALL YOUR LOOT/WHO YA GONNA CALL?
The Duchess enters the top ten number nine, followed by City of Ember opening at number ten and apparently this is some well-regarded kiddie sci-fi. Well, I ain’t no kid and even when I was a kid watching other kids in science fiction movies really didn’t interest me because I knew it would be candy-ass on the danger and excitement. No one would really suffer or die because it was a kid’s movie in the end. Plus, there was zero hope of any nudity. That said, how strange is it to find Bill Murray here. Now this is the indulgence of a star and not one in damage control of their career. Though I am dismayed at his willingness to restart Ghostbusters, especially since he really didn’t want to do the sequel and it was clear in how he sleepwalked through it. He says now enough time has passed and he’s over it. Personally, I’m thinking he had to pay his wife off big time for the divorce and is looking to recoup. We’ll know if I’m right if a sequel to Stripes crosses his lips.

I JUST FLEW IN AND BOY ARE MY ARMS TIRED
So, this weekend was the culmination of the last four months of riding. I took advanatage of our dwindling nice days to circle the entire city of Manhattan. Starting at my apartment, I went up the West Side to the end of the bike path, crossed over on Dyckman Street to the East Side, came down until I hit the Queensborough Bridge, went into Queens, came back, continued down 1st Avenue because there is no bike path until the 30’s, went down to the East Village where I stopped to briefly see Dorito Cheeseburger Woman (Karyn Plonsky) who was working a street fair on East 4th Street, got back on the bike path at the Williamsburg Bridge and rode it until I got back home. Now, I thought my legs would be killing me, but they were okay. My crotch on the other hand… I’ve now been over five bridges, including Queensboro, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Williamsburg and George Washington. I don’t think I need hit the smaller ones like the Triboro. I guess the only new thing that interests me now is the bike path around Roosevelt Island. And will the smoking hot women jogging please stop!?! You’d think Lower East Side hipsters would be the last people working out, but the firm short-haired blonde with the large dragon tattoo rising up from her ankle (I don’t want to think how much that hurt) jogging says you’re wrong.

EVER MEET SOMEONE SO SMART THEY WERE STUPID?
The 11th Hour started last week and it was as crappy as anything you’d expect from Jerry Bruckheimer. Essentially a less conspiratorial version of Fringe, it also has the advantage of a prettier blonde F.B.I. Agent (Mary Shelton, who looks like Heather Graham’s less sexy younger sister), Rufus Sewell and no Pacey whatsoever. I knew it was going to be lame, but had no idea how lame until in the first five minutes I saw a deputy sheriff pick up a red medical waste container marked “Infectious” with the red warning label AND OPEN IT UP! Because, you know, that’s what you’d do with something like that. And it wasn’t part of the plot that he’d open it up and expose himself to something to advance the plot. No, it just happened because this show is stupid. This has as much to do with real science as CSI has to do with real forensic police work. Granted that’s now why you’re watching, but it would be nice not to have your intelligence insulted by a show that’s supposed to be about really smart people.

LOW FIDELITY

1. Beverly Hills Chihuahua/Disney Wknd/$ 29.0 Total/$ 29.0
2. Eagle Eye/Par-DW Wknd/$ 17.7 Total/$ 54.6
3. Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist/Sony Wknd/$ 12.0 Total/$ 12.0
4. Nights In Rodanthe/Warner Wknd/$ 7.4 Total/$ 25.1
5. Appaloosa/WB Wknd/$ 5.0 Total/$ 5.6
6. Lakeview Terrace/Screen Gems Wknd/$ 4.5 Total/$ 32.1
7. Burn After Reading/Focus Wknd/$ 4.1 Total/$ 51.6
8. Fireproof/Gold Wknd/$ 4.1 Total/$ 12.5
9. An American Carol/ Wknd/$ 3.8 Total/$ 3.8
10.Religulous/Lions Gate Wknd/$ 3.5 Total/$ 3.5

BEHOLD, THE POWER OF THE HIPSTER
Beverly Hill Chihuahua opens at number one and never underestimate the power of an ironic hipster. A month or so ago, it became a mission of the website Defamer to make this seemingly atrocity into the must see movie amongst hipsters because it’s an atrocity. Now, this was attempted before with Snakes on a Plane, but that crashed and burned (no pun intended) I think perhaps, because the studio was in on the joke, which was death to the original hipster intent. Not so here and combined with the built in family audience, it’s the most unexpected number one in quite a while. That’s about all I know about this movie and all I care to know.

WHERE FOR ART THOU, SLING BLADE?
Eagle Eye is down to number two and also in this is Billy Bob Thornton and there was a time he was the epitome of indie film and now here he is sleepwalking though crap like this---probably to pay for his neverending series of ex-wives, though I’m sure Angelina isn’t taking any cash. And I’m pretty sure finding out that they’re still close was as much of a surprise to her as it was to the rest of us.

FINITE LIKE A CD
Nick & Nora’s Infinite Playlist opens at number three and I was looking forward to this because I’m old. If that sounds odd it’s because I remember a time when a movie like this was aimed squarely at me and featured a world I inhabited and I was looking forward to something resembling a trip down memory lane with this story of the young people in NYC. I’m still waiting, because this was sorely lacking. The plot is thus: Nick is the recently dumped bassist in a queercore trio and is playing a show in New York before he joins every other hip young person in the Tri-State area in a hunt to find the secret performance of the hippest band of the moment. Also, in the city looking for said band is Nora, frienemy of the girl who dumped Nick and fan of the mixes he keeps sending to his ex. And this is where the movie fails the most with me. When you meet someone who has your same musical tastes, it’s almost like love at first sight. Everything else falls ways as you launch into a mile-a-minute conversation and discover that the last song on the first EP of your favorite band that only you thought you understood has another fan who also envisioned wolves in the forest from the obscure lyrics. These kids are supposed to be hardcore music lovers. But when she realizes that he’s the guy behind the mixes she’s been enjoying that moment of connection never materializes. Instead, she’s just “declared” the one for him by both the movie and his gay bandmates (who talk her into putting on a better bra, from the box filled with them they just happened to have in the van). What should happen very naturally seems, very contrived and forced. And it doesn’t get any better. Another wasted plot point is her drunken best friend who gets lost (and almost steals the film) and they go looking for her. Between the search for her and the hip band this should have been a tour of NYC’s current music scene. It’s not. I’m old and out of touch but even I know that only one trip to Williamsburg in a movie about the NYC music scene is bullshit. And there’s an unrealistic Seinfeld level of driving going on in this movie, which is also ridiculous. I can get them driving in from New Jersey, because they have band equipment, but after that… What’s worse is that he’s driving a Yugo, so the joke that he doesn’t have to worry about it being stolen seems an easy and funny way to explain it, but never crosses the mind of any of these “smart” kids or the screenwriters. And if you’re wondering why this straight kid is playing comfortably in queercore band, keep wondering. Even though jokes are made about the assumption that he must be gay (the smartest joke is that all the gay guys in the movie are much better looking than he is and it’s probably unintentional) there’s no story about how he ended up in this trio, which should have been part of a real development of romance between the two. And don’t get me started about how a discussion of Judiasm leads to him finger fucking her.

MOVIE RULE: BRITS MAKE THE BEST VILLAINS EVEN WITHOUT THEIR ACCENTS
Nights In Rodanthe is down to number four followed by Appaloosa entering the top ten at number ten at number five and as the bad guy in this is Jeremy Irons, in that way that Englishmen seem to relish playing bad guys in westerns. Maybe because of the way the American west has been mythologized by the rest of the world, foreigners love to strap on the six-gun and say “Reckon” more than we ever will. Again this movie is caught between being traditional and being revisionist and what makes this frustrating is that some of the revisions are interesting, not the least of which is that Jeremy Irons (who’s playing a New Yorker) knows the president and uses this connection to get out of murdering the sheriff and his deputies! Afterwards, he invests money in the town and the very city fathers who hired Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen to go after him, began to embrace him. That should have played out to it logical conclusion (Irons becomes the mainstream and Harris becomes the outlaw for not accepting it), but thanks to another revisionist aspect results in a traditional ending.

FYI…
Lakeview Terrace is down to number six, followed by Burn After Reading at number seven and Fireproof at number eight.

COULDN’T YOU HAVE MADE ANOTHER HOT SHOTS MOVIE?
Opening in the top ten at number nine is An American Carol, the right wing comedy from Airplane and Naked Gun director, Jerry Zucker, yet another one of these Hollywood douchebags who suddenly became Republican after 9/11, because it’s easy hold a belief when times are good, not so much when it’s unpopular or you’re scared. But everyone who “turned” when times got tough needs to be watched by his new friends because obviously they have trouble hanging on to a point-of-view. Not that he didn’t pick a target that didn’t deserve it. Michael Moore is an ass and needs to roasted at every possible opportunity, but he’s already so ridiculous a character, it’s almost impossible to parody, which is how you get something like this, over-the-top and heavy handed. A more effective way to go would be just to let the Michael Moore character be his asshole self, but they didn’t exactly have their choice of top notch talent given their all-star cast consists of Kelsey Grammar, Trace Adkins, James Woods and the late Chris Farley’s older brother, who makes Jim Belushi look like John Belushi.

GOD WOULD STRIKE HIM DOWN…IF HE EXISTED
Ironically, opening right behind it Bill Mahler’s Religolous at number ten, but it’s unfair to call Bill Mahler a liberal when he in fact is a misanthrope and hates everyone. He’s also an atheist so has a special dislike of religion and this is pretty much his attack on it and it’s disingenuous to call it anything else. It was never his intent to show the good side of religion, only the bad because, well, there’s not a lot of humor in the good, only in someone who sees Jesus in a radish and a frightening humor in someone who either looks forward to the end of days or thinks a couple dozen virgins is any sort of heavenly reward. I mean who wants that deer-in-the-headlights look once, much less 37 times!?! I’ll never see it, because I hate Bill Maher as much as he hates me and I hate Michael Moore more than any Republican ever could.

FIRST RULE ABOUT CHOKING IS NEVER TALK ABOUT CHOKING
Never breaking the top ten is Choke, the latest movie based on a book by Chuck Palahniuk, the man behind Fight Club. Unfortunately, this is no Fight Club and also lacks the vision that David Fincher brought to that film. The title comes from his scam of faking choking in a restaurant to be saved. Once someone saves him, they not only give him an emotional connection, but will also send him financial support. He needs it because he dropped out of med school and became a tour guide to keep his mother in a very mercenary home as she slips further and further into dementia, not that she was stable to begin with (she would regularly steal him from foster parents). He’s also a sex addict for similar reasons; the instant emotional connection he gets from random sexual encounters that he never got from his mother, played by Anjelica Huston (who looks disturbingly like Cher in the flashback sequences). Of course all this becomes upended, when he meets “The Girl” played by none other than Kelly McDonald, best known as the all-too-willing Lolita from Trainspotting (you realize how long ago that was, thanks to her sadly, Euro-Anglo type of aging). Like Fight Club, no matter how twisted it gets, at its heart, it believes in the power of loving a girl (usually as twisted as you) to save you from yourself. Having seen the author in person, I can tell you from a brief first impression he didn’t date much so those ideas are understandably strong with him, which I guess is a refreshing change from dudes who didn’t date much and now hate women for it. Now, if you’re a fan of Sam Rockwell having sex, this is your movie, but otherwise it’s something to catch on IFC in about a year and be mildly amused by.

GIRL, I HEARD YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED
Rachel Getting Married is in limited release so hasn’t broken the top ten yet, but will because it’s serious Oscar bait. Now when critics call the performance of a woman “brave” what they usually mean is that she’s naked a lot and not naked in a flattering way (for men, “brave” means kissing another man). Truly brave is actually playing a character who is the protagonist, but is unrelentingly unpleasant and in the case of Rachel Getting Married, Anne Hathaway is seriously brave as Rachel’s sister Kat, getting out of rehab to attend the wedding and making almost everyone wish she’d stayed in. You want to feel bad for her, but she makes that all but impossible with her bitch-on-wheels performance climaxing with a wedding rehearsal toast that she makes all about herself. Not since watching Peter Weller get shot to death in Robocop has it been so difficult for me to look at the screen, because it’s long, it’s painful and it’s awkward and it’s meant to be to so. To the credit of both director Jonathan Demme and screenwriter Jenny Lumet (yes, daughter of director Sidney), Rachel doesn’t just take it. The very next scene is all about her confronting Kat for being so selfish and making Rachel’s wedding instead about her. It’s a reoccurring situation as Kat never really stops because this isn’t some magic movie where an unpleasant character is redeemed by a child or an all-knowing minority member. Kat is still in the stages of the recovery to drug addiction that has gripped her since she was a teen model (and led to a tragedy that still haunts her family). She didn’t change before the wedding, she’s not going to suddenly change during it. The ending of the film is wonderfully realistic in that regard, but hopeful when you think it might be depressing. Speaking of minorities, because this comes from director Jonathan Demme and Jenny Lumet who is also Lena Horne’s granddaughter multi-culturalism is a requirement. Rachel’s husband to be is Black as is Rachel and Kat’s stepmother. In fact, if there’s an ethnic group missed, I didn’t see it. Maybe some aborigines from Australia but that’s about it. Like The Duchess before it, this has a killer supporting performance from Bill Irwin as the father who unceasing in his love and devotion to his daughters, even the troublesome Kat, no matter how much trouble she causes. If he doesn’t get a nomination (only to lose to Ralph Fiennes) then there is no justice. Also, only briefly in the film but still making an impression is none other than Debra Winger. I never stop thinking about how awesome her legend could have, should have been. When none other than Bette Davis says you’re her successor… Sigh. But she walked away and now every return, no matter how small is a treat. But the biggest treat of all, because this comes from Jonathan Demme, is an appearance by none other than Sister Carol (and Fab Five Freddy and Robyn Hitchcock and Roger Corman). And yes, she sings.

MY FRIEND, MY MOTHER, MY LOVER: TELEVISION
Fall shows continue to roll out and continue not to impress me. The Ex List is based on a successful Israeli TV about a woman who learns that her soulmate is actually one of her exes and if she doesn’t marry him within a year, she’ll never get married. Now for this show to work, not only does time have to stand still, but she’s gotta be a bit of a ho’ to have enough interesting exes, not to mention when she reconnects with them, she sleeps with them again---only to break up to bone next week’s ex (the Israeli original never had this problem because it was done in about two months). This is what gets me about the odious How I Met Your Mother, because while trying to maintain an air of romance it’s essentially about all the girls he’s boned until he met his wife. And he’s telling his kids this shit! There was even an episode about a threesome he had! The lead is played by Elizabeth Reaser, the crazy amnesiac that Alex fell for on Grey’s Anatomy and I give them credit for casting someone not perfectly pretty as the lead---though she’s still a skinny little thing as shown by her wardrobe of short-shorts and bikinis. But this is a show for women (if you didn’t notice by the “We’re preying on your fears of dying alone” premise) so there’s actually more male flesh on display than female flesh and it’s usually fairly ripped. There’s even a little pseudo feminism by the now ousted creator/writer/producer, Diane Ruggiero when one of the supporting characters gets a full bikini wax and her boyfriend hates it because it makes her look like a little girl. Following the semi-mystical path of this is Valentine, the story of gods of love (Venus, Cupid, Hercules) on Earth today getting couples together. I only watched because Venus is played by the woman who was the crazy English girl Dexter fell for last season. The only episodes of that show I ever watched were the ones where she appeared naked. What she should be doing is playing a vampire. She has jet-black hair, alabaster skin and an English accent. It’s a role she was born to play so she should just get to it. Especially now that Kate Beckinsale isn’t coming back for Underworld sequels. This sounds remarkably similar to a much better show from a few years ago starring Jeremy Piven called Cupid (created by Rob Thomas, the creator of Veronica Mars), as a guy who may be the god of love exiled to earth until he unites 50 couples---or he just may be out of his mind. It was so much better it’s currently being remade with an actually attractive leading man (Bobby Cannavale). But even if I didn’t compare Valentine to that show, it would still be lacking. Aside from the horrible name, the character of Cupid is kind of a jerk and that’s not conducive to a favorable depiction of a god of love. He’s also not hot enough to be a god of love either. Though I do find it funny that Hercules hates cops because that actually makes sense. Sanctuary is the latest “monster of the week show” this fall, but thankfully there’s no “dark conspiracy” sub-plot. It’s simple: a seemingly immortal scientist recruits a forensic psychologist to help her track and capture monsters and mythical beasts, not just for the safety of the public but also for the creatures themselves. It was better than Fringe, which is embarrassing considering it cost about a third as much (and looks it) and if it makes a point of actually using mythical creatures or urban legends, I’ll be a devoted follower. As it is, I enjoyed the “monster” this week was actually a child whose parents were from Chernobyl and apparently wasn’t the first.

WE’RE ALL AMERICANS, HERE---UNLESS WE DISAGREE, THEN YOU’RE A TRAITOR
Speaking of the wars between the left and the right, my Jezebel membership has actually gotten my ass out to Brooklyn twice in the last two weeks to watch the debates with the Jezebel girls. And by watching, I mean eating, drinking and screaming at the TV. Especially when Sarah Palin is on. You want to see a liberal woman’s head explode? Mention offhandedly how much you like Sarah Palin. And then watch your head, because she may come for you. I love my Jezebel girls, but I’ve got an intense self-loathing for my liberal brethren otherwise, because I hold to the belief if you truly believe you’re on the side of right, you are prohibited from being an asshole about it. And acting like the mispronunciation of the name of a foreign leader’s name is the height of idiocy is being an asshole. Granted, anyone who wants to president should know how to do it, but not being able to doesn’t automatically mean your IQ hovers around room temperature. I probably won’t make the third because I simply cannot do Brooklyn once a week. Sorry, ladies. I love you all, but I think going out there so much is making me break out in a rash. Besides, to go out there means I have to give up a work out of some sort, so not only am I eating and drinking but also I’m not working out as much. Yes, I’ve somehow become that guy. That guy who has to workout a certain number of times a week or he gets antsy (or in my case, fat). It’s why this weekend, even with my legs in so much pain from an unusually hard kung fu class, I literally had trouble walking, I popped some Advil, put Ben Gay on my legs and hit the road.