1. Marley & Me/Fox Wknd/$ 24.1 Total/$ 106.5
2. Bedtime Stories/Disney Wknd/$ 20.3 Total/$ 85.4
3. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button Wknd/$ 18.4 Total/$ 79.0
4. Valkyrie/UA Wknd/$ 14.0 Total/$ 60.7
5. Yes Man/WB Wknd/$ 13.9 Total/$ 79.4
6. Seven Pounds/Sony Wknd/$ 10.0 Total/$ 60.0
7. The Tale of Despereaux/Universal Wknd/$ 7.0 Total/$ 43.7
8. Doubt/Miramax Wknd/$ 5.0 Total/$ 18.7
9. The Day The Earth Stood Still/ Wknd/$ 4.9 Total/$ 74.3
10. Slumdog Millionaire/FoxS Wknd/$ 4.8 Total/$ 28.8
BAD DOG!
Marley & Me holds onto the top spot and this is a total “three strikes and you’re out” movie for me. Strike One: I hate Owen Wilson. I always have and I always will. He plays that same stoned Texas surfer dude in every movie, but in none of them has he actually been a stoned Texas surfer dude! Strike Two: Jennifer Anniston has yet to make a movie I’m even remotely interested in seeing, period. Everything she does looks so…”safe.” Not to mention, mediocre and this is no exception. A story about a dog who causes nothing but trouble, but they love him. I can understand why it was bestseller and why people are going to see it, but at the same time how the hell was this a best seller and why are people going to see it!?! I guess the answer is the same: they want to see a reflection of their own beloved pet. Well, I love dogs like anyone (cat people are freaks, plain and simple), but evidently my twentysomething years since last having a pet has hardened me, ‘cause I could give a crap about ever seeing this movie, on screen or even on cable. Which brings us to strike three: I don’t care for big goofy-ass dogs like this. I either want the dog tougher (German Shepard, Great Dane) or smaller and smarter (Jack Russell or Boxer) or even painfully cute (Cocker Spaniel), but this big WASPy dog just leaves me cold. I’d even prefer the uber-Yuppie dog of a Labrador Retriever.
I DO NOT THINK FUNNY MEANS WHAT ADAM SANDLER THINK IT MEANS
Bedtime Stories holds at number three and Adam Sandler also annoys the shit out of me, so this is also a no-go, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say the idea of it all wasn’t a little appealing, but that’s only because The Princess Bride left such a great impression on all of us. Not to mention the great anthology episodes of the The Simpsons. But in the end, if Adam Sandler is in it, then it probably sucks. This philosophy has served me well over the years, so I think I’ll stick with it.
WILL YOU NEED ME, WILL YOU STILL FEED ME WHEN I’M ONLY FOUR…
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button holds at number three and this is a serious type of Oscar bait movie as we follow someone “special” as they move “through the ages” allowing Award-worthy displays of costumes, make-up and hopefully, acting all shot through a golden hue. Based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, it’s about a man who is born old and grows younger as he ages and a great make-up job is done, not so much on Brad Pitt because it’s mixed with special effects and other actors, but on Cate Blanchett who goes from her twenties to her sixties very convincingly onscreen. And honestly, I get that’s a young Brad Pitt. Using CGI to stick that little mark under his eye onto a baby, was unnecessary and frankly distracting. Ultimately, however, how it all looked is all you take away from this. I’ve never liked David Fincher as a director for this very reason. He’s big on looks and style, not so much with story and content. The story of two people going in different directions and ultimately only have one brief moment in time to meet in the middle should be gloriously sad and romantic, but all I remember from that time in the movie is just how awesome fashions were in the 50’s and 60’s, especially the casual styles on display here. Seriously. We may have just peaked during that period. And when you stick people who look like Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett into them, it’s just fashion candy. It also falls into the old rule of you can’t tell the story of “special” person as they move “through the ages” without the loving support of a Black person. In this case it’s the woman who adopts the in elderly infant. She just happens to be running a nursing home and cannot have children of her own, so not only does she know better than anyone how to see to his needs, she’s in burning need of a child of her own. Also, because this is kind of a “feel good” movie, you’re not going to see any sort of racism even here in 1920’s New Orleans, much less later. Later, his mother does manage to have a child of her own, a daughter, and if you think she’s going to play a part in his life as he grows older/younger, think again. She kind of disappears. This is especially odd when you see how Benjamin grows to see the tenants of the nursing home as part of his family. Also the pacing is off. Given the meat of the story is the fleeting, yet lifetime love between Cate Blanchett and Brad Pitt, far too much time is spent on Brad Pitt without her, especially as a child. This limits the time they ultimately do spend together when they “meet in the middle” of their lives…wearing all those great clothes. Again, when it inevitably ends, because he’s going to ultimately become a child, it should have been heartbreaking, but instead you’ve long since become annoyed about the senseless use of Hurricane Katrina as part of the framing device for the movie (Cate Blanchett’s character is dying and her daughter is reading Benjamin’s diary to her in the hospital as the storm approaches). I mean, it was a major fucking tragedy and you’re using it for this lightweight movie for no discernable purpose?
I DON’T THINK THERE’S A POLISH TRANSLATION OF “GOOD NAZI”
Valkyrie holds at number four and this looks like one of those big-budget World War II movies they used to make in the 60’s and 70’s when everyone from Clint Eastwood to Richard Burton made them. I half expected to see Donald Sutherland turn up somewhere in here, but this is only about the Nazis and we know who makes the best Nazis: the English. Tom Cruise has surrounded himself with top English talent, which makes me think they must also all be kind of short. Kenneth Branagh, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson, Terrence Stamp and even Eddie Lizzard are here. This tells the true story of when some of Hitler’s own officers turned on him and tried to kill him and it’s hysterical how they’re trying to sell this movie as if these guys were somehow a little more decent. Just because you’re not a genocidal nutbag, doesn’t suddenly make you good. They were otherwise fine with their world conquering and anti-Semitism beforehand. The problem is we know Tom Cruise just cannot be allowed to play a proper bad guy. Even in Collateral he wasn’t the bastard he need to be to really make it work (not that anything could have saved that stupid premise). I fear the same here and have no interest.
LIAR LIAR 2: PANTS ON FIRE
Yes Man is down to five and Jim Carrey has reached an apparent level of awareness in his career where he knows he’s just better off making versions of the same thing over and over again. He’s always made mediocre movies, but has learned what people will tolerate from him in a mediocre comedy, they will not abide in a mediocre drama or would be thriller. John Wayne and Clark Gable made new versions of their old films as they got older and now Carrey joins them in this variation of Liar Liar. Funny, but when you think about it, going back even to The Mask but his biggest hits all have some metaphysical twist to them, be it magical totems mystic wishes or God himself. I’ve never found Jim Carrey funny so I don’t see his movies and this is no exception.
SAMUEL L. JACKSON SYNDROME
Seven Pounds is down to number six and can Will Smith take a freaking vacation!?! He’s releasing a new movie like every 3-4 months. In the space of a year it’s been I Am Legend, Hancock and now this and given neither of them were classics, I’m not going to rush out and see this either. It looks like the second half of the title should be “…In A Four Pound Bag.” Yes, it looks like crap to me. So earnest and heartfelt…hell, the only thing they’re missing is a holiday setting. Maybe if they’d done that it would have opened at number one. Also, the fact that it’s some sort of “secret” as to why he’s doing this is simply not tantalizing. No one wants a mystery in a touchy-feely movie.
TOUCHE, MONSIEUR PUSSYCAT!
The Tale Of Despereaux is down to number seven and you know what they would have been better off making? A movie about that little white mouse in the Tom & Jerry cartoons who only spoke French! I’d rather see one of those cartoons than ever see this. The five-year-old in me thinks this just looks dull. But it pulled a better than average cast out to make a quick and easy dollar. Aside from animated voice mainstay, Matthew Broderick, there’s Dustin Hoffman, Kevin Kline, Frank Langella, William H. Macy and in an attempt to get the older kids, Emma Watson, who actually appeared as herself in some of the ads. See, little things like that show you they weren’t out to make a good movie so much as some quick animated kids cash by using a popular book. There was no real inspiration present.
“NO MORE TOUCHING THE BOYS!”
Doubt is down to number nine and while I worship at the altar of Meryl Streep, even I can see from the trailer’s she’s giving a Mommie Dearest type of over-the-top-performance which kills 99% of the motivation I had to see this. But I have to ask: has molestation by priests become the “holocaust” for Catholics to eternally mine for dramatic purposes because it seems like there’s a new one every time I turn around.
BUT YOU KNOW IF UNDERWORLD 3 IS TWO HOURS I WON’T BLINK
The Day The Earth Stood Still is down to number nine, followed by Slumdog Millionaire at number ten and this is something I know I have to see eventually, but the two hour running time is severely hampering my efforts. The call goes out: who will make me see all the overlong Oscar bait this season!?!
THE “JUST A BUM, WHICH IS WHAT I AM” SECTION OF THE VIDEO STORE
Not in the top ten as of yet, but one of the top Oscar bait movies is The Wrestler, which is one of those “lion in winter’ type films that the Academy just loves. It’s also a career revitalizer for Mickey Rourke in the title role of a professional wrestler twenty years after his peak still going at it because he just loves it so much. He’s sacrificed everything for it and now at the end is coming up with nothing. No money, no family and the first thing we see is him locked out of his trailer because he hasn’t paid the rent. The closest thing he has to a relationship is the kindness of middle-aged stripper, Marisa Tomei, who’s also in the “winter” of her own career. But none of this seems to matter so long as he can wrestle, so of course that seems to be over when he suffers a heart attack and has to have a bypass, resulting in a doctor telling him he can’t wrestle. This then causes the self-reflection and move to build a new life before it’s over that are the bread and butter of these movies. Of course he seeks out the daughter he’s neglected for most of her life. Of course he tries to build a real relationship with the stripper who’s a kindred spirit. Of course he tries to get more hours at his real job, sacrificing the thing he loves, but will he really be able to do it? Mickey Rourke puts the sacrifice of his own beauty he made years ago to good use here. To a certain extent he really isn’t acting, just playing himself in a different venue. As this is hardly a particularly new story in any way (a stripper with a soft heart? Why not just make her a hooker?), it really rests on the execution and the execution here is solid, coming from director Darren Aronofsky, so if you think it’s gonna be some Hallmark Hall of Fame touchy feely movie of redemption, think again. That they set it in New Jersey in winter lets you know they aren’t kidding around. This is a seriously hardscrabble life by practically everyone involved but nowhere is it every sentimental, patronizing or condescending. When Rourke and Tomei effuse lovingly over 80’s metal, you never feel they’re being mocked for it. Nor should they be. Who wouldn’t dance in a bar to Ratt’s “Round and Round”? Hell, who hasn’t?
THE FLESH WAS WILLING BUT…
Almost every year for literally the past quarter of a century I go home for Christmas and go to the movies with family and friends and I’d say about 24 of those have been crap. It’s a given: if we’re going to a movie a Christmas, no matter what it is, from indie work to Oscar bait to big budget event, it. will. suck. The only exception to this has been Dodgeball. Yeah. Exactly. This year was back to the rule as we made the trek out to see The Spirit. Now, I have to admit, I knew this was going to blow. Frank Miller has been sucking in comics for the past decade, so I sincerely doubted that he was going to suddenly redeem himself as a writer/director. In fact, he’s sucked as a screenwriter as anyone who sat through Robocop 3 can tell you. He got this gig because he co-directed Sin City. Given the other two co-directors were Robert Rodriquez and Quentin Tarantino, there’s a big question as to how much “directing” he really did. Well, this answers that question, because without more experienced hands to guide him, he crashes and burns starting with interpreting The Spirit character like one of his damn Sin City books. I don’t expect the average person to know anything about The Spirit, but know this: this ain’t it. You could argue the character (which has been around for 60 years) varied in style and content from humor to pathos to noir to action so it’s open to varied interpretations, but still this is wrong and stumbles right out of the gate by changing The Spirit’s outfit from blue to black. Miller insists that this is what Will Eisner really wanted but the printing of the time wouldn’t allow for black to work. “cough-cough” BULLSHIT. Eisner was a smart and tough man and owned his character when others like Superman were being stolen outright from their creators. He totally controlled it up until his death a few years back and never did he change the color of the suit. The Hulk was supposed to be gray and not green but the printers screwed up, so it’s like Miller making the The Hulk gray for the movie and defending the change that way. And it’s downhill after that. The modest wattage cast does what it can with Miller’s anemic script, but to no avail. Let me put it this way: the high points of the film are the ass of Eve Mendes double and the goofy comic relief henchmen that villain Samuel L. Jackson literally creates in his lab---and I didn’t find the henchmen funny. And I also think she used a body double because that ass looked kinda flat.
NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH THE GAY GUEST HOUSE OR BI-SEXUAL ATTIC
My New Year’s Eve is usually spent hiding in my apartment from the chaos of Times Square just a few blocks away. This time however, I opted to go party with my Jezebels (again) in Brooklyn (again). This was the group I call “Jezebel A.” They were the core of the first group and have bonded more as their own group outside of the website. Also, if you’re aware of that sort of thing, they have more of the bigger “stars” amongst the commentators. In fact the #1 commentator on Jezebel was there and seemed very happy to meet me. Now, on Facebook where drinking and party arrangements are made, I don’t use my real name (I’m in contact with everyone from my past I want to be in contact with, thank you very much) and use either baby pictures or comic book characters as my avatar. She tells me she not only follows me on Jezebel when I comment, but has downloaded and collected all my baby pictures to go through. If she weren’t attractive, this would have been a tad creepy, but because she was, it gets a pass. To top it off unlike most of the other Jezebels I’ve met, she’s actually my age. Unfortunately, I thought she was one of the lesbian Jezebels (who made up such a large portion of the party the basement was called “The Lesbian Basement”) and didn’t spend a lot of time with her during the night. Did I mention she was from Canada and wouldn’t be hanging around anyway? Somehow, I find that a very appropriate representation of my life. It takes a special ability to totally blow a golden opportunity like that, but I’ve got that ability in spades. Watch me continue to display it into the New Year. So instead, I spent the bulk of my night drinking and dancing with the Hot Comic Book Girls whose very existence mocks me. There were no Hot Comic Book Girls when I was their age so to meet some now is just cruel. One of them is the girl with the Muscha painting and Dark Phoenix tattooed on her back and she has the knowledge of every dance step in every video ever. She also told me that her older brother and sister were actually in the Rob Base “It Takes Two” video. We wound up sharing dance steps when “Jungle Love” by The Time came up and unfortunately photos of this and more now pollute the internet. It’s not the dancing I mind but that I suffer from “dance face” which is second only to “sex face” in terms of sheer ugliness. The other Hot Comic Book Girl had just gotten off a plane from visiting family in India and jet lag combined with drinking led to her giving lap dances to pretty much everyone present, myself included. This is not to be confused with the bottle-between-boobs feeding drinks to others trick that the 5’10” glamazon delighted in doing (but not to me). But the highlight of my evening had to be the food. Yes, I’ve got strange priorities. Someone introduced me to the disturbingly delicious yet simple cheese on a cracker wrapped in bacon. I will never see my feet again, as I could eat this all day, every day. Then there was the cheese dip made by the girl from Arkansas, which involved lots and lots of Velveeta. So you can keep your potential Canadian one-night-stands, Hot Lap Dancing Comic Book Girls and Booze Dispensing Breasts, and leave me the bacon and the cheese. This bacchanal lasted until the wee hours. I myself didn’t even leave until a quarter-to-five and was greeted by a very New York sight in the subway: a drunk guy with a mannequin leg insisting that everyone autograph it. I was more at home with that than the sight of children on the train. Look, just cough up the dough for a babysitter or stay home, but even on New Year’s, no kid should be riding the train home with a bunch of drunks at 5:00 am!
APPARENTLY DEATH LIKES THE ROLL CALL AT THE OSCARS TO BE LONG
Death went on its typical end of the year tear claiming Van Johnson (whom I thought was long dead), Sam Bottoms and Nobel Prize winning author, Harold Pinter. But on the geek front it was major as Majel Barrett, Eartha Kitt and Bettie Page all died. Majel Barrett was best known as Nurse Chapel on Star Trek and the voice of the computers on Star Trek: The Next Generation. She later became Mrs. Gene Rodenberry (the creator of Star Trek) and has pretty much run the business since he died. Eartha Kitt was probably the most feline actress ever to play Catwoman, though she actually had a real career outside it---one she derailed by getting up in Ladybird Johnson’s face during a White House visit in the 60’s. And Bettie Page was perhaps the most famous pin-up girl ever. She received a new lease on life in the 80’s when artist Dave Stephens modeled one of his characters for The Rocketeer on her. Hipsters rediscovered her and Stephens was such a fan he became friends with Page and taught her how to continue making money off her image. See? It pays to be beloved by geeks. Please us once and we’ll take care of you forever.
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