NYQUIL AND TEQUILA!

1. Friday the 13th/WB Wknd/$ 40.7 Total/$ 40.7
2. He’s Just Not That Into You/WB Wknd/$ 19.6 Total/$ 55.1
3. Taken/Fox Wknd/$ 19.0 Total/$ 77.7
4. Confessions of a Shopaholic/Touch Wknd/$ 15.1 Total/$ 15.1
5. Coraline/Focus Wknd/$ 14.8 Total/$ 35.0
6. Paul Blart: Mall Cop/Sony Wknd/$ 11.0 Total/$ 109.8
7. The International/Sony Wknd/$ 9.4 Total/$ 9.4
8. The Pink Panther 2/Sony Wknd/$ 8.5 Total/$ 21.8
9. Slumdog Millionaire/Fox Searchlight Wknd/$ 7.3 Total/$ 86.7
10. Push/Summit Wknd/$ 6.9 Total/$ 19.3

AN AUSPICIOUS DATE
Friday the 13th opens at number one and believe it or not, I actually saw the original in the theater. I was there to see Excalibur with my cousin, where not only persuaded me to sneak in to see it, but he then started talking to the two girls sitting in front of us. Needless to say I was no help, and that marks my first official teen geek social failure (pre-teen social failures now having been sealed by the court). I like to think that the massive opening this weekend allowed yet another geek to fail miserably, thus perpetuating the cycle.

HE DOESN’T NEED TO OPPRESS YOU IF YOU’RE DOING IT TO YOURSELF
He’s Just Not That Into You is down to number two and rather than keep ragging on it, let’s look as some positives from this piece of crap: 1) It’s a success from a female production company. Drew Barrymore’s to be precise. 2) Not only are almost all the pairings all age appropriate but also in three of the five couples the female is actually older than the male (the four couple is same age and fifth involves Scarlett Johanssen, the youngest cast member). That’s how you know for sure men didn’t produce this, because that shit simply would not fly. Of course the even bigger downside is that women would make this piece of crap for themselves.

TAKEN 3: MARS NEEDS WOMEN
Taken is down to number three and the success of this requires there be a sequel, most likely in the other place known to take little White American girls: Asia. Liam Neeson’s daughter unwisely ventures to Hong Kong when he specifically tells her not to. Taken 2: Those Little Yellow Bastards Dare Touch Our Women. Africa is off-limits thanks to you-know-who being president and they already wasted using Arabs here.

MAYBE CONFESSIONS OF A COUPON CUTTER WILL BE NEXT
Confessions of a Shopaholic opens at number four and I’m sure this seemed like a good idea at the time; cash in on both Sex & The City and The Devil Wears Prada. But then the economy collapsed and people were less likely to indulge a poorly written film (which trashes some of the stronger personality aspects of the character from the book) simply because it’s eye candy. It’s too bad, because Ilsa Fisher obviously has a comedic star quality to her just looking for the right vehicle and if she doesn’t find it soon Hollywood’s gonna realize it’s already got a small, talented redhead in Amy Adams so why do they need another? She has Oscar nominations and a hit under her belt.

SAVING UP MY BITTERNESS FOR THE SPRING
Coraline is down to number five and I was wrong. This isn’t from Tim Burton. It’s merely the same director from The Nightmare Before Christmas. That doesn’t mean anything I said about Tim Burton isn’t true, just misplaced in this instance. But so long as we’re here, let’s look at who’s picking up an easy check. Dakota Fanning, Teri Hatcher, Jennifer Saunders & Dawn French (something for you fans of overrated English comedy), Keith David and Ian McShane, who just isn’t as interesting after you’ve seen him curse up a storm in Deadwood.

LOOSE CHANGE
Paul Blart: Mall Cop is down to number six, followed by The International opening at number seven and unlike Confessions of Shopaholic, a movie about evil bankers getting their due should be something everyone in the country wanted to see, but apparently watching horny teenagers get slaughtered makes them feel better than Clive Owen bringing the people who really hurt them to justice. It’s not a bad movie, but it’s not a great one either. It’s too long and if the cathartic pleasure of watching evil bankers get punished is what you’re looking for, there’s just not enough of it. Not to mention, what is the point in casting a beautiful woman with a handsome man and not having a romantic subplot!?! Naomi Watts is happily married and Clive Owen is so focused on bad guys he wouldn’t have noticed anyway. Not since Nicole Kidman (from whom I personally think Naomi Watts was cloned) and George Clooney barely exchanged a heated glance in The Peacekeeper has a pretty pair been so wasted. The set piece is a shoot-out in the Guggenheim, which is so good it deserved a better movie. There’s something very Hitchcockian about the way you have move down the circular design, unable to see who’s above or below you. Unfortunately this shoot-out shatters the disbelief present. For the bulk of the movie, Clive Owen can’t prove anything about the bank. A hit team dispatched to one of the most noted museums on the planet would remove all doubt you exist, so the bad guys suddenly become utter morons who can’t wait until their target leaves or the rest of the world eats a brain tumor for breakfast not to know the bank is every inch the evil Owen insists. But it’s still a great scene.

LIKE A YOUNG ANDIE MCDOWELL IN HER WOODEN-NESS
The Pink Panther 2 is down to number eight, followed by Slumdog Millionaire at number nine and Push closing out the top ten at number ten and sadly the gawking at Dakota Fanning has begun. She’s grown up a little too thin, blonde and pretty for the same creeps who counted down the days for Britney, Natalie Portman and the Olsen Twins to become legal to ignore (be thankful, Miley Cyrus, that no one’s waiting on your 18th birthday except that model you’re dating). Oddly enough, the very beautiful Camilla Belle was ignored in her transition to adulthood (she played the younger, frankly prettier, version of Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic). Very few would know her name if she weren’t currently dating a Jonas Brother and I cannot fault his decision to dump Taylor Swift for her. Pretty blondes are a dime a dozen, but smoldering brunettes are a rarity. Too bad smoldering beauty is all she brings here. The script does her no favors, but Chris Evans and Dakota Fanning still inject life into their roles.

MUST YOU BE UGLY AND STUPID?
Okay, as a devoted fan of Rock of Love I tried to watch For the Love of Ray J, the latest reality show about a B or C or D list celeb looking for love, but I couldn’t. I know he’s had hits, but at the end of the day he’s still Brandy’s ugly little uncharismatic little brother (though he was cute in her “I Wanna Be Down” video a hundred years ago) and that combined with the sheer hootchie-ness on display was just too much for me. You can laugh at Brett Michaels because you can tell he’s laughing at it too. Ray J has none of that charm and is so genuinely transfixed by strippers it’s no fun to watch. At least not for me and I always thought the major problem with Rock of Love was the two-decade age difference between Michaels and most of the girls. Apparently it’s needed, otherwise your star can’t keep the show moving because his dick is in the way.

NO, I DON’T COUNT ROSARIO
Trust Me is about two guys in advertising. I work in advertising and I don’t give shit, so I can’t imagine how anyone else ever could. There’s a reason 99% of all shows are about doctors, cops and lawyers. Their jobs matter. They fail and people can literally die. An ad exec fails and what? A bad Tide commercial? Those Go Daddy.com commercials show you that they fail every fucking day. That’s “0” and “3” for the four cast members of Will & Grace, as The Starter Wife was just cancelled last week and I don’t see this lasting either. Combine that with Megan Muhally’s talk show and now Jack proves to be the wisest of all by not doing anything at all (outside of an appearance on 30 Rock).

PEOPLE MAKE ME SICK. TEQUILA CURES ME.
Now, when I’m my usual shut-in self, I rarely get sick. I ride my bike along the Hudson River in 20-degree weather and walk home from kung fu in the same conditions and barely get a sniffle. But I go out and spend time with people and I’m on my second fucking cold in two months. Guess what we’re not going to be doing until it gets warmer. But one thing I did learn is that I’ve wasted many a sleepless night by trusting Nyquil. It’s never worked on me. I’ve never understood these people who say it knocks them out. Last week learned the secret ingredient. You know how they say never mix it with booze. Bullshit. I haven’t slept that well since I was home at Christmas. I was determined to have margaritas despite the cold and my cold and since I wanted to breathe through my nose and not cough up a lung, I took some Nyquil anyway. A glorious 12 hours of rest followed. Yeah, I was too sleepy to even get undressed, but so what? I’ve got a recipe for success the next time this happens.

WHAT I WATCH INSTEAD OF DEPRESSING OSCAR NOMINATED FILMS
As I was jonesing for a little geek entertainment after the very entertaining Wonder Woman movie at the comic convention, I rented the recent direct-to-video release of The Hulk vs. Thor and The Hulk vs. Wolverine, which cuts the bullshit and gives comic fans exactly what they want: unmitigated superhero violence. It’s a dark secret of comics that geeks like seeing heroes fight more than they like seeing them fight bad guys. This gives you some of the most popular characters at Marvel, known for their willingness to kick butt without the confines of budgets thanks to animation. In the first the “plot” as it were is Loki (Thor’s brother if you know your Norse Mythology) brings The Hulk to Asgard because he’s the only creature who’s ever come close to defeating Thor. He removes Bruce Banner from him leaving The Hulk without restraint or conscience. Unfortunately it also leaves him speechless removing one of The Hulk’s most endearing attributes: his third person idiot speech (“Hulk smash!”). After that, it’s pretty much The Hulk beating the shit out of Thor. Oh, he puts up a decent fight (you don’t have a movie if he doesn’t), but he loses and then The Hulk pretty much starts destroying all Asgard. Wolverine made his first appearance in The Hulk over 35 years ago, so this is actually semi-appropriate, but given that The Hulk would obviously stomp him in a heartbeat, they add a large selection of Wolverine’s rogue gallery (Sabertooth, Omega Red, Deathstrike and Deadpool) and his origin to fill the story out in his segment. It’s a bit more fun watching The Hulk whomp on bad guys and he’s talking (“Hulk smash little man!”). I’d never buy it, but it was definitely worth a rental.

ONCE AGAIN WOMEN BEAR THE BURDEN OF MANKIND’S SINS
This is pretty tasteless to say, but I hate Chris Brown so much that if him beating Rihanna is what it takes to destroy his career and make him go away, then she took one for the team. The “team” in this case being all humanity. It’s a shame Jay-Z is on probation, because I’d like to think Hova would deal with this “Brooklyn style.” Though I’d rather him smack around the idiots who ask, “Well did she provoke him?” As if anything would justify a man beating a woman. I’m sure somewhere Tina Turner was throwing up at the news of it---then made arrangements to go take another piss on Ike’s grave while she was here in the states on tour.

I'M YOUR PUSHER

1. He’s Just Not That Into You/WB Wknd/$ 27.5 Total/$ 27.5
2. Taken/Fox Wknd/$ 20.3 Total/$ 53.4
3. Coraline/Focus Wknd/$ 16.3 Total/$ 16.3
4. The Pink Panther 2/Sony Wknd/$ 12.0 Total/$ 12.0
5. Paul Blart: Mall Cop/Sony Wknd/$ 11.0 Total/$ 97.0
6. Push/Summit Wknd/$ 10.2 Total/$ 10.2
7. Grand Torino/Warner Wknd/$ 7.4 Total/$ 120.3
8. Slumdog Millionaire/Fox Searchlight Wknd/$ 7.4 Total/$ 77.4
9. The Uninvited/Paramount Wknd/$ 6.4 Total/$ 18.4
10. Hotel for Dogs/Paramount Wknd/$ 5.8 Total/$ 55.2

IT’S JUST NOT A GOOD MOVIE
Opening strong at number one is He’s Just Not That Into You, which is based on a book of the same name, which in turn came from an episode of Sex & The City. What’s sad about this phenomena is that it even had to exist. That women had to be told when they were being blown off. This movie has been on the shitlist of Jezebel.com for months now specifically because it looked just like any other dumb romantic comedy with sad, doormat women and clueless, piggish men. Well, I wish I could say they were wrong. Now, it’s not the worst movie in the world, but if it didn’t have this all-star cast, we wouldn’t be talking about it now, because there’s nothing going on here. A movie about a girl having to learn when men were being jerks and how to walk away isn’t a bad idea, but this execution leaves a lot to be desired, and spreading this message out amongst four different storylines with five vaguely connected women was not the wisest choice. Ginnifer Goodwin, Jennifer Connelly and Jennifer Anniston are all working at an ad agency (Jennifer Inc?) while Drew Barrymore is Scarlett Johansson’s friend and Scarlett is actually part of Jennifer Connelly’s storyline. Jennifer Connelly is married to Bradley Cooper who begins falling for Scarlett Johansson, but since he married her there are no mixed signals there, nor does he ever lie to Scarlett Johansson about being married. Why is this here and being given a central focus? It has nothing to do with the main idea of the story, of men being pretty plain about their intentions and women refusing to acknowlege it. It’s like they realized how slim their idea was and threw in other stuff to try and flesh it out. Well, you failed. And making one of the male characters “a girl” by not realizing “she’s just not that into him” doesn’t win you progressive or irony points. It also fails the central concept by filling the movie with nice guy characters WHEN THE VERY CONCEPT REQUIRES MEN TO BE JERKS. They make a big deal about myth of the jerk who becomes a nice guy (who is always a friend of a friend you once heard of) and how that’s the exception and not the rule but they have to make these guys the exception and not the rule or you don’t have a romantic comedy. So it’s fighting itself from the beginning. This needed another draft or twenty before being made…not that it should have been made at all given it’s a friggin’ self-help book. What next, an adaptation of I’m Okay, You’re Okay?

FIGHT FOR AMERICA, YOU FOREIGN BASTARDS
Taken is down to number two and also in this is Famke Janssen as Liam Neeson’s ex-wife who, of course, has to be taken down a peg for daring to be happily re-married to a rich guy and pissed that her ex-husband wasn’t around during their marriage. It’s a waste of her because a better movie would have been that she was also CIA but left when their daughter was born and was pissed because he refused to do the same. Then the both of them could have torn a bloody path through Paris and instead of a xenophobic patriarchal fantasy, it could have just been a xenophobic all-opportunity fantasy---ironically starring two people who aren’t even Americans (Neeson is Irish and Janssen is Dutch).

SWEET CORALINE
Coraline opens at number three and I’d planned on seeing this purely because it was at the Zigfeld, but something strange happened which makes me think senility has set in early: I decided I’d rather be out riding my bike in sun in a break from our last two months of below-freezing weather. Me. Choosing outside physical activity above not just seeing a movie, but an animated 3-D! What’s wrong with me!?! Then I remembered it wasn’t just any movie, but friggin’ Tim Burton and another one of his gothic fairy tale movies (The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride) and I fucking hate Tim Burton and his whole “I was a strange kid” routine. Yeah, now you’re a millionaire who only dates models and actresses, so your goth street cred is bullshit. The fact that Neil Gaiman wrote the book this was based on didn’t help sway me either. I stuck with my decision go riding and come back covered with mud and salt. Twas glorious.

THE UNFUNNY THAT SHALL NOT SPEAK ITS NAME
The Pink Panther 2 opens at number four and I think it would be better for all of us if we just pretend this franchise died with Peter Sellers and move on. In fact, let’s pretend even he only made one of these.

I’M YO’ MAMA, I’M YO’ DADDY, I’M THAT TELEKINETIC IN THE ALLEY…
Paul Blart Mall Cop is down to number five, followed by Push opening at number six and this is basically The X-Men meets Scanners meets The Fury meets Firestarter as it’s about people with powers which the governments of the world then attempt to amplify and control. They’ve apparently been doing this since the end of WWII when they learned the Nazis were trying to do it. Every government has a “division” that runs this program that people with abilities are either working for or running from. Chris Evans (who played The Human Torch in the Fantastic Four movies) seems to be doomed to making superhero movies with good concepts that are poorly executed. The idea is okay if not a bit muddled and the look is great (something I can’t say for The Fantastic Four)---setting it in the colorful chaos of Hong Kong was inspired---unfortunately, it winds up not making a lot of sense. Chris Evans loses his father to Division in the opening moments and he’s supposedly on the run all his life to keep from working for them, but they find him immediately, question him and then leave. Huh? If you don’t have to work for Division, why the hell is he living like this? The idea set up at the very beginning is either you work for your government or you die is thrown out the window immediately, trashing a great suspenseful dramatic status quo, not to mention making no sense at all. Then Dakota Fanning shows up as a “watcher” meaning she can see the future and he’s supposed to help her find the girl who was Division’s one successful attempt at augmenting powers, who just happens to be his ex-girlfriend. Apparently finding her will help free Fanning’s mom who is supposed the greatest “watcher” ever having predicted most of the events in this movie---which means she’s pretty good, because it follows no logic otherwise known to man. Even the subplot of Chris Evans slowly developing his powers isn’t really utilized as he spends most of the movie getting his ass kicked by a guy who does know how to use his powers. And one of the major motivations of one of the characters remains unfulfilled at the end, making this feel like one big pilot for a TV series.

THE REST
Slumdog Millionaire is down to number seven, followed by Grand Torino at number eight, The Uninvited at number nine and Hotel For Dogs closing out the top ten

SO, WHERE’S WHAT I’VE BEEN UP TO
Unlike most of you who take me for granted, my Star Sister did notice that for the last few weeks, I’ve been including no personal anecdotes. It’s not that I’ve been any more of a shut in than usual (it may not be possible and still be legally considered alive), it’s just that I’ve been lazy, so I didn’t talk about karaoke night with the Jezebels when it was 12 degrees outside and fate felt free to mock me yet again with a beautiful young girl who not only identified Prince when I could not (the sound in the place was horrible) but told me she couldn’t stay because she had to go home and watch Battlestar Galactica. Believe me when I say, when I was 25 there were no women going home early to watch Star Trek: The Next Generation. I also didn’t mention my time with Chasing Amy who pointed out that one of the Jezebels I thought was a dude was in fact a girl (but by her own admission this happens all the time) or how I helped her [Chasing Amy] sort through her cyberdating prospects while we watched the Super Bowl and once again yet another one of my female friends realized that yes, I am a guy. I like nice cars and I scream at the TV during sporting events. It’s not all shoe shopping and romantic comedies with me. And did you really want to hear about my kung-fu class putting on an outdoor exhibition that very same morning that I strangely found myself a part of? But for some reason I do feel the need to mention my actual attendance at the New York ComicCon at the Jacob Javitz Center this weekend. Now, I never go to conventions because I am a self-hating geek, but the only thing I hate more than myself is another geek. Especially geeks in ugly costumes. Jesus. Buy a fucking mask, don’t just paint the goddamn thing on! And an entire booth selling corsets? Sigh. I’d claim not to understand slutwear being sold at a comic book convention, but I’d be lying. But my boy, O.G. (Original Geek) came up from Atlanta to attend as he was on a panel and trying to do interviews for his comics podcast. I had to go for that, though he insisted I didn’t. He knew I’d probably embarrass him by screaming out dumb questions from the back (“Have any of you ever kissed at girl!?!”). Lucky for him, his panel was at the same time as the Superman panel where all the writers and artists for the Superman books were talking about upcoming storylines. Because I am the Angriest Geek In The World, I took the opportunity to insult one of the writers of the books and let him know I stopped buying it because of his work. Specifically, he had Superman talking about how exotic he thought a dead female superhero was. Yes, Superman, the biggest boy scout is talking about how hot a dead chick is, reducing a fallen comrade to her looks. Then, he had Lois Lane jealous of another female superhero because she wore…fishnets. Yeah, she’s okay with Wonder Woman, but fishnets send her into a tizzy. That’s like saying you’re not bothered by your husband working with Angelina Jolie, but Jennifer Anniston is a threat. Basically, women are either “dead and hot” or “alive and annoying.” But the geeks being the sad fuckers they are, offered only praise for the work, as every question began with thanks for making Superman so wonderful. It’s better now than it’s been in years, but it ain’t wonderful (for that you need Grant Morrison). After that we had lunch at Burgers and Cupcakes where half the convention seemed to going. I had a goat cheese cheeseburger and it was good (and it better be coming from Mitchel London Foods). They went back to the convention to work the attendees for possible interviews. I, however, went home to watch ESPN and take a nap before returning for the 8:30 world premiere of the Wonder Woman animated movie. They were showing this in one of the larger level room where two screens were situated on either side of a stage where hopefully the cast and crew would speak afterwards (only the three main creators came). Because only one of the screens has been turned on, one side was pretty much empty so I grabbed some choice real estate there to wait on my friends. I got more than I bargained for when some of the staff of St. Mark’s Comics saw me and rushed over and soon we had a whole row of geekdom for the movie…and it was awesome, due in no small part to Nathan Fillion as the voice of Steve Trevor and a pretty mature attitude overall. Let me put it this way, when the film begins Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons (and Wonder Woman’s mother) is fighting Ares, the Greek god of war and one of her insults is that she hopes he’s better on the battlefield than he was in bed. Also, when Steve Trevor crash lands on Themeyscria (aka, Paradise Island) and is captured the lasso of truth accidentally compels him to admit that he thinks Wonder Woman has nice breasts. But it’s really in the action where it reveal it’s not your Saturday morning cartoon Wonder Woman with battle scenes where death and decapitations begin and end the movie. I never thought in a million years Felicity could do this, but Keri Russell does a pretty good job as Wonder Woman (though she couldn’t make it in from Brooklyn for the panel). The rest of the vocal cast includes Virginia Madsen, Rosario Dawson, Oliver Platt and Alfred Molina. The story isn’t perfect (Steve Trevor is shot down and returns and no one needs to talk to him?), but it is 75 minutes of a good time and given Wonder Woman is held in such little regard that Green Lantern is going to get a movie before her, this may be all that you get.

LOOK AT WHAT’S HAPPENED TO ME/I CAN’T BELIEVE MYSELF
Sad convention moment: William Katt and Robert Culp talking at adjoining tables with absolutely no lines in front of them.

IF YOU THOUGHT MUSIC COULD NEVER BE BORING, YOU WERE WRONG
I came in late for the Grammys (and by that I mean I didn’t start recording it for later viewing until 8:15), so I missed Justin Timberlake and Al Green. I suppose I should be grateful…Coldplay bores me and not even Jay-Z can change that. But I do like that “Viva la Vida” song. Too bad he lacks the exciting stage presence to pull it off. I’ve met Bono and friend, you’re no Bono…how much do I hate myself for liking that Carrie Underwood song “I Don’t Even Know His Last Name”? Actually this started last year when I was back down south for my cousin’s wedding, but now I have own up to it. And it’s always hot to see a woman wail on guitar…I’m ignoring the awards because who really cares…Kid Rock sucks. And I mean sucks. Have you ever listened to his crappy lyrics? Just sucks…Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. Sorry, but this not only won’t make more young people watch this, but it may drive away the few old people still watching…I feel for Jennifer Hudson and she can sing, but that doesn’t make this song any less boring…the Grammys deserve to die for pairing the Jonas Brothers with Stevie Wonder. Their reed-thin voices are horrific! If you need to understand why they suck, think of what Stevie Wonder had done when he was their age?...Blink 182 feeling the pinch of the economy as they reunite for no good reason, as there ain’t a lot of warmth on that stage…I don’t like Katy Perry but at least she’s got a sense of humor. The fruit theme is hysterical. And she doesn’t pretend she can dance and may be the only female artist to appear in flats ever…oh, shit! Estelle and Kanye doing the best single of 2008: “American Boy.”… okay, I had to stop to see my girl Adele when Best New Artist, but you can actually thank Sarah Palin for it, because after they appeared on the same episode of SNL, Adele truly blew up. This, of course means her career is over…country music performance, who cares?...will MIA give birth onstage, given today is her due date? Sadly, no…hey, Lil’ Wayne, it takes a singular talent to look like shit in a tux. TI and Jay-show how to wear it right…sorry, but The Beatles are the music of life. But couldn’t they get Paul an all-star band?..why are they fucking up Adele with Sugarland?...she’s a twit, but I still like Gwyneth Paltrow and of course she introduces Radiohead, given her husband has said without them Coldplay wouldn’t exist. Me, I’ve never gotten it beyond “Creep”…um, actually, Samuel L. Jackson, TI and Justin Timberlake had a hit together two years ago. And I finally figured out why TI stands out amongst rappers: he’s good looking. Most rappers are as ugly as sin…Smokey Robinson. Somewhere my mother is screaming and not at his horrible hair and bad eye-job. Jamie Foxx needs to let these dreams of being a musical artist go. For the sake of all of us. And how far has R&B fallen from Smokey Robinson to Nee-Yo?...again I pity Christina Aguilera. Britney out of her mind still sells more than she does…yes, I have Neil Diamond’s greatest hits and if you don’t there’s something wrong with you. You know, if Caroline Kennedy decides to actually run for office, she’s got the song…the roll of death…sittin’ and playin’ guitar. That’s as fucking old school as it gets...Lil’ Wayne and Robin Thicke seem like a B-level version of Justin and TI. Alan Toussaint cannot save them…Robert Plant and Allison Krauss is one of those albums you buy because you know you should and to impress your friends when they look at your collection. Not because you actually listen to it or anything…sorry, Stevie, you’re tarnished now. Ending the show alone will not cleanse you. Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if everyone left and didn’t tell him? Yeah, that’s how bothered I am by The Jonas Brothers thing.

DOCTOR, DOCTOR GIMME THE NEWS
So I finally broke down and saw a doctor. Well, kinda. I didn’t go in to get my brain checked out or anything. I went in because of the pain in my elbow, the pain in my shoulder, the weird bone protrusion on my wrist and the odd swelling on my shin. But of course it came back to my brain when I mentioned it and was unnerved by how surprised he was that I suffered no permanent effects. “You know most people have some sort of permanent damage. Do you know how lucky you are?” Um, I thought I did. Now, a year-and-half later, you’re scaring the shit out of me. So he gave me a prescription for my elbow (which I didn’t fulfill) told me to make an appointment to have my shoulder x-rayed (which I didn’t do) and explained to me what as up with my wrist (which I forgot). He had no idea what was going on with my shin swelling and wanted to keep an eye on it. So, we’re good for a year, right?

SAY IT SOFTLY AND IT’S ALMOST LIKE PRAYING
Ricardo Montalban died. Yes, Khan is dead. Mr. Rourke is gone. KHAAAAAANNNNN!

AMERICA, FUCK YEAH!

1. Taken/Fox Wknd/$ 24.6 Total/$ 24.6
2. Paul Blart: Mall Cop/Sony Wknd/$ 14.0 Total/$ 83.4
3. The Uninvited/Paramount Wknd/$ 10.5 Total/$ 10.5
4. Hotel for Dogs/Paramount Wknd/$ 8.7 Total/$ 48.2
5. Grand Torino/Warner Wknd/$ 8.6 Total/$ 110.5
6. Slumdog Millionaire/Fox Searchlight Wknd/$ 7.7 Total/$ 67.2
7. Underworld: Rise of the Lycans Wknd/$ 7.2 Total/$ 32.8
8. New In Town/Lion’s Gate Wknd/$ 6.8 Total/$ 6.8
9. My Bloody Valentine 3-D/Lions Wknd/$ 4.3 Total/$ 44.6
10. Inkheart/Warner Wknd/$ 3.7 Total/$ 12.8

LOGIC WENT OVERSEAS AND WE HAVEN’T SEEN IT SINCE
Say, do you dislike the French? Albanians? Arabs? Women who don’t appreciate your service to your country? Do you love America and the Irishmen who helped make it great? Then, brother, I’ve got a movie for you and it opens at number one. Taken surprisingly captures the top spot this week, given it’s an action movie released Super Bowl weekend. If you haven’t seen the very effective commercial, it’s about a former secret agent of some sort whose daughter is kidnapped by sex traffickers in Paris and he goes there and kicks the shit out of everyone. And I mean, everyone. The Albanians who kidnapped her, the French who are getting paid off and the cherry on top, the very Jabba-the-Hut Arab who buys her. Gee, you think this movie was conceived post 9/11? We learn that Liam Neeson is an ex-government agent who gave up his career to be closer to his daughter in LA. We also know that he’s so good, they’d take him back in a second. Needless to say, he turns to his old buddies for help the moment his daughter is taken (she didn’t listen to him in the first, so of course she had it coming) and they give him some intel---and that’s it. Now, if I wanted some top operative back I’d offer him a little more than that to grease his return, but the camaraderie displayed in the first ten minutes to establish the character is nothing more than that: a scene to establish a character. Not that anyone looks for reality in an action film, but the abject stupidity can detract from the fun. His first target is the “spotter” at the airport who locates the girls. When he attacks the spotter, another henchman attacks him and the spotter runs away. Now, do you really need the spotter when you’ve now got the other henchman? Apparently so, because Liam Neeson just leaves the unconscious thug in the hand to pursue the one in the bush only to wind up with nothing. You say this guy was a top agent? But it is great fun watching him kill and maim bad guys through Paris and he does it all in little more than 90 minutes, which is exactly how long a dumb action movie should be. To make sure you know they deserve it, almost every action scene is preceded by some poor girl drugged up and forced into prostitution. The only truly original moment in the film is when Liam Neeson shoots an innocent in order to obtain information. It’s perhaps the first time in the history of secret agent action movies where the secret agent is as ruthless as he’d need to be in order to be successful in that line of work.

IMMOVABLE FORCE MEET IRRESISTIBLE OBJECT
Paul Blart: Mall Cop is down to number two because mouth breathers of the world got the one thing they love more than dumb comedy: dumb action.

WHAT WASN’T INVITED WAS A ONE PIECE
The Uninvited opens at number three and this is yet another adaptation of an Asian horror film. I don’t do the scary and I surely don’t do what is certain to be the latest in a long list of disappointing remakes. And they get no points for dangling the two lead actresses like so much bikini-clad bait in the commercials. Funny how a movie about a potentially murderous stepmother requires the stepdaughters to bare so much skin. It’d be different if she were slaughtering their entire class in a camp by the lake.

DADDY LOVES HIS PUPPY WUPPY
Hotel for Dogs holds at number four and its inexplicable success proves two things: 1) we love dogs and 2) actors on the downslide can’t go wrong with kids films. You get paid either way and if it’s a hit you’ve got a gold star on your record. But mostly it’s how much we fucking love our dogs.

CHAMPAGNE AND FRENCH FRIES
Grand Torino is down to number five, followed by Slumlord Millionaire at number six and Underworld: Rise of the Lycans at number seven, and yes, Lucian the Lycan leader (say it three times fast) is also David Frost in Frost/Nixon and Tony Blair in The Queen, and Michael Sheen’s willingness to do these movies ever after such arthouse prestige makes me a fan. Especially when you realize that he was with Kate Beckinsale for years until they made the first Underworld together and she left him for the director during filming. He must have really enjoyed shooting this without either one of them around.

YOU KNOW HOW SOME MOVIES HAVE TITLES THAT ARE JUST ASKING FOR IT?
New In Town opens at number eight and bears the distinction of being perhaps the worst reviewed movie of the New Year and I cannot say it looks as if it doesn’t deserve it. I am an unabashed romantic comedy whore and even I turned my nose up at this. It doesn’t have an original thought in its head and the participants involved couldn’t be whoring themselves more if they were in Hotel For Dogs 2: Puppy Suites (oh, you know it’s coming). I for one have never understood how Harry Connick Jr. has carved out a career in movies. He’s awful. He gives the same wooden performance in everything he does. He’s like a male Andie McDowell.

NOW, CRASH YOU CAN APOLOGIZE FOR
My Bloody Valentine is down to number nine and closing out the top ten is Inkheart. So basically every freaking kid’s fantasy novel every written is going to be made into a movie until studio heads realize that Harry Potter was the exception and not the rule? And how is it with all our technology we still can’t make better toupees than the kind seen on the head of people like Brendan Fraser? There’s an article in the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly about how he can’t get any respect. Are you fucking kidding me? He puts out this, Journey To The Center of the Earth and Mummy 3 in a year and wonders why he gets no fucking respect? It’s not just that they’re bad, but they’re so obviously B-list bad and not A-list bad like something like Hancock. And he doesn’t need to apologize for Monkeybone. Chris Columbus needs to apologize for fucking up Monkeybone and only leaving behind the traces of the film it could have been.