1. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen Wkdn/$112.0 Total/$ 210.2
2. The Proposal/Touchstone Wknd/$ 18.5 Total/$ 69.1
3. The Hangover/Warner Wknd/$ 17.1 Total/$ 183.2
4. Up/Disney Wknd/$ 13.0 Total/$ 250.2
5. My Sister’s Keeper/Warner Wknd/$ 12.0 Total/$ 12.0
6. Year One/Sony Wknd/$ 5.8 Total/$ 32.2
7. The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3/Sony Wknd/$ 5.4 Total/$ 53.4
8. Star Trek/Paramount Wknd/$ 3.6 Total/$ 246.2
9. Night At The Museum 2/Fox Wknd/$ 3.5 Total/$ 163.2
10.Away We Go/Focus Wknd/$ 1.7 Total/$ 4.1
ROBOT BORES
The Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen opens at number one and you really don’t expect much from a Michael Bay film, but even with low, low standards, he still manages to disappoint you utterly. Like his contemporaries, McG and Brett Ratner, he simply has no clue about telling a story or conveying an emotion. It’s just “bang” “boom” and “pow” and even though that’s the only reason you’re watching a Transformers sequel, you still need those things in some sort of context. The story Bay barely even tries to tell between robot fights, explosions and crumbling buildings is something about the Decepticons looking for an ancient power source built on earth thousands of years ago and of course, our good guys having to stop them. Shia Lebouf is still around and continues to be the ultimate douchebag fantasy figure. He never stops acting like a motor-mouthed weeny (imagine an unfunny 18-year-old Woody Allen) and his reward for this is to be worshipped by giant alien robots and Megan Fox, who fulfills her basic function in this movie by first appearing in a pair of denim cutoff straddling a motorcycle then changing into a leather bike suit then stripping out of that into a good girl sundress. This is in her first five minutes of screen time. Shia Lebouf is leaving both her and his super robot car in California to go to college on the east coast, but this being a douchebag fantasy, of course they both follow him there. It’s not just bad writing that he refuses to help the good robots fight the bad robots like he’s got another planet to live on if they lose, it’s bad writing filtered through a jackass director, so you wind up with a totally unsympathetic main character---unless you’re a douchebag. There was some solid B-movie fun in the first Transformers movie, but that’s been totally lost in Bay’s desire to put as much shit as he can onscreen. Something he’s actually bragged about accomplishing.
YOU KNOW, LIKE WHEN MY GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME TO STAY AWAY FROM WHITE WOMEN
The Proposal is down to number two and Betty White is making a new career out of the movie convention of the “funny old person.” Said old person gets laughs from either being foul mouthed or saying inappropriate things or both. In Lake Placid, a very underrated horror comedy, she was allowed the former and was much funnier than here where she’s only allowed the latter. In fact this entire movie isn’t as funny as one of her lines from Lake Placid: “If I had a dick, this is when I’d tell you to suck it.” In fact, Lake Placid, the story of giant alligator terrorizing a lake in Maine is funnier than this supposed romantic comedy, so I recommend you see Betty White in that.
ANGRYGEEK POWERS, ACTIVATE!
The Hangover is down to number three followed by Up at number four and opening at number five is My Sister’s Keeper, a weepy based on the novel by Jodi Picoult about a young girl who sues for emancipation from her parents who pretty much had her in order to save her older sister who suffers from leukemia. This comes from director Nick Cassavettes and that’s your first clue you’re in trouble. Apparently all he got from his talented father was the name, because these attempts to tell these emotional, dramatic stories fail miserably. I don’t care how many of you loved The Notebook. It was a crap movie from a shit book and usually you can make a good movie from a bad book, because changes are usually all improvements (can you say The Devil Wears Prada?). Cameron Diaz here is another bad sign, given her generally poor taste in scripts and you rarely want to be there when an actor decides they want to “s-t-r-e-t-c-h.” That’s two strikes right there and because I’m an angry geek bastard, Jodi Picoult’s shit run on Wonder Woman is my third. Okay, it wasn’t so much her writing (which did blow), but her response that anyone who didn’t like her crappy story was some loser living in mommy’s basement. Here’s a thought: the next time you decide to write an ongoing series, try taking a look at that series first. I suppose if she stepped in to write on Lost or The Sopranos but wrote something that either conflicted with a previous season or had already been done, you’d all be losers to not like it and point that out too.
LO, HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN
Year One is down to number six and what the hell is Harold Ramis doing? This is the man whose comedic work as a writer and director make him a comedy god. Animal House, Caddyshack, Stripes, Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day, Analyze This…even a failure like Bedazzled has great moments. Jack Black shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe his air, much less work with him. He needs Bill Murray I think, because it was after Groundhog Day that it all went wrong. Multiplicity, Stuart Saves His Family, Bedazzled, The Ice Harvest, and Analyze That…all mediocre to bad. Only Analyze This was the exception to the rule. And Bill Murray needs to stop making art films anyway. A next generation Ghostbusters is going to reunite everyone, but I’d prefer something new. I have this fear of Seth Rogen in Ghostbusters uniform that I just cannot shake.
MAYBE KEKE PALMER AND MILEY CYRUS?
The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3 is down to numb seven and the relative lack of success of this and State of Play is leading people to complain that grown-up movies don’t sell any longer. Well, I won’t argue that having younger actors might have brought in another demographic, but Zac Efron and Nick Cannon simply were not going to make this work. Also State of Play actually did relatively well, as did this. I’d question release dates, for heavier material, staying away from summer. A good opening weekend, which they both did, won’t mean much when something like Star Trek or Transformers opens the following week and drains the box office. But in the end, what really matters is DVD and adults who have kids and can’t get out, will bump up the numbers both films from the comfort of their living rooms.
CRAP WRITING…IN SPACE!
Start Trek is down to number eight and it was written by the same team that brought you Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and that explains a lot as both films are reflections of their directors, having no distinctive voice of their own.
IT NEVER MY FAULT, BUT SOMEONE ELSE’S
Night At The Museum is down to number nine, followed by Away We Go entering the top ten at number ten and this looks like precious indie tripe. It’s because of movies like this I couldn’t find the will to see The Hurt Locker this weekend (not the drinking). Art films just hurt your soul more when they fail because you invest more in them. I can see a big piece of crap like Terminator: Salvation or Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and still be up for more, because I didn’t expect much. But I expect something from director Sam Mendes and this just looks weak from jump street. Also, I’m not an Office fan so John Krasinski means nothing to me. In fact, I’d rather not see his goofy face at all.
JUST LIKE LAW & ORDER, BITCHES!
So it took 25 years in NYC, but I finally saw my first dead body. I was riding my bike up the path where the Fairway grocery store is at 130th street when I noticed a group of cops, uniformed and plain-clothed standing around. Then I noticed they were standing around something. A body. Partially covered by a white sheet. The head was exposed so I had the wonderful view of his once-brown skin now taking on a gray ash---as well as the flies hovering around it. I thought I noticed a smell too, but thankfully I was moving too fast to make sure. As far as sightings go, this is best. I mean, I dread finding one, especially when I ride because I never take my phone with me and that’s gonna be an awkward conversation later. “Yeah, about an hour ago when I was riding I saw a body. Well, I didn’t have my phone. I don’t carry money either. I don’t talk to other riders either. No, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m calling now aren’t I?”
SO TELL ME WHERE YOU FROM? UPTOWN, BABY. UPTOWN, BABY.
So, as my “repairs” to my bike coupled with its on natural state of deterioration have left it in a precarious state (can’t change gears, but the brakes are working fine), I decided to get in one more major ride before I handed it over to bike shop to fix what I’d fixed. This time I went all the way up to the tip of Manhattan and crossed the Broadway Bridge into the Bronx to come back down on the east side of the East River facing the city. This was made a bit more difficult by me reading the map wrong and missing that the bike path is only “planned” so until I hit Roberto Clemente Park I was riding in traffic. And that only lasted for a hot second, then it was back down in traffic and some shady areas under the bridges near the river where I fully expected to see another dead body, this time surrounded by the guys who put him there, wondering "What the fuck are you doin’ here, bike boy? Nicky, get bike boy.” I also was treated to the disturbing sight of kids under one of the bridges swimming in the East River. Ewww. Kids, there are public pools. Now, that I was ready to call the cops for immediately because that cannot be good for them. I crossed back over at Macombs which is right at Yankee Stadium. Or should I say, stadiums because for now it seems to be two standing side-by-side. Rather than ride back down the East Side, as I find the sights very unattractive, I decided to go back over to the West Side and came back down through the very nice Riverside Park than the bike path itself. It was almost three hours and I crossed the 600 mile mark on my odometer.
SAPPHIC CONSTUCTION
So, you know you’re accepted when you’re told “You’d better be there, bitch” for the Lesbian Carpenter Birthday party and by that I mean one of the Jezebels who is a lesbian was having a combination birthday party and celebration of her graduation from carpentry school. So yes, a decade later that joke on Will & Grace now makes sense to me (“One of my moms is gay. She can’t dance, but she built our house.”). I wasn’t going at first, but after the aforementioned insistence from her very lovely Kate Winslet-looking girlfriend, Chasing Amy then insisted that I take her, as she wanted one last opportunity to make out with chicks before settling in for a life of beard stubble and the smell of balls. She backed out at the last minute but it’s her loss as there are worst things than a party filled cute, skinny, short-haired lesbians from Canada who either break out into French or have French accents (it’s called a party of nothing but a bunch of ugly dudes arguing about Star Wars and I’ve been there…shudder). Kate Winslet Girlfriend actually worked for Judith Regan as it turns out so she and I exchanged horror stories about working for a demanding yet successful boss, though she had it much worse as Judith Regan deliberately tried to break her will and became more frustrated at each failure. But this also resulted in better stories as Bernie Kerik---the now disgraced former NYC Police Commissioner she was having an affair with using city money and locations---would have sex with her in her office and she’d leave the door partially open so everyone could hear. But if you’re expecting a party filled with lesbians (not that this was the first, but this was mentioned as such on the invite) to be different, think again. The conversation was sex as always, ranging from the realization of women that all the shit you worry about means nothing to us once you’re naked, to a discussion of micro-penises, to one Franco Lesbian’s lust for ironically enough, James Franco, to the plan to convert the straight girls with a full on lesbian who’d give, never expect to receive and would worship then. I made no defense of my side, because that just ain’t happening from a dude. Ever. And because I’m a geek and the Carpenter Birthday Girl was wearing a Wolverine shirt the last time that I saw her, my gift to her was a comic book featuring the new lesbian Batwoman---with a backup feature starring The Question, her ex-girlfriend (yes, the original Question, Vic Sage, is dead). Hey, it was Pride Day.
A WHOLE NEW DEFINITION TO “THUG LOVE”
Speaking of lesbians and Chasing Amy, one night after hanging with her I was walking home up Park Avenue when a private party at a bar had spilled over onto the streets. It was filled with black girls who had all adopted Rhianna as a fashion model and stylish thug dudes who’d opted for 50 Cent. Except as I got closer, I realized those weren’t dudes at all. See, this is why I love this city.
INSERT YOUR OWN SONG-BASED DEATH JOKE HERE
Death is on a rampage, ranging from Z-listers like Billy May to B-listers like Ed McMahon and David Carradine to the A list of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Farrah Fawcett was amazing in a way you may not be able to do any longer as she played one role for one year thirty years ago and was still famous for it. You think Megan Fox is going to be famous for just Transformers in 30 years? And honestly, it may even just be for that damn poster that introduced the erect nipple to an entire generation of young boys and delighted their fathers. But her death was overshadowed by that of Michael Jackson’s and I will admit we will probably never see his like again as we don’t make that kind of performer anymore. He was the last of a line that included Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley. They weren’t musicians, per se, but performers and out of the three only Michael actually wrote a lot of his own material. Some of his biggest hits came from his own hand, something Frank and Elvis could never say. But honestly for me the man died over a 15 years ago, in the wake of his own growing insanity and abuse of children. As I told a friend who actually interviewed me for it, I’d been a fan of Michael Jackson for as long as I’d been alive. Getting Off The Wall was the highlight of my 13th birthday and when my friends turned to Prince and repeated the very well known gossip in the black community that Michael wanted to get a sex change and marry Clifton Davis (writer of “Never Can Say Goodbye” and star of That’s My Mama), I was a lone defender. Needless to say, it was sweet revenge when Thriller blew up and those same guys were back to worshipping him. And even when the scandal first hit, I was on his side, smelling extortion…then he found reasons not to come back into the US to face the charges…then he paid. That was it. I don’t care how rich you are, you don’t cough up $23M for a lie. Billionaires don’t piss away $23M with no return on it. No, you only cough up $23M because you’re going to lose a lot more. And if that wasn’t enough the second round was truly the nail in his coffin. Not simply that there was a second round, but the nature of children involved. Poor, minority families, who wouldn’t make too much noise if something happened and could be bought off cheaply if something did come to light, whereas a middle-class white family would know just how much they could get and wouldn’t be financially pressed to settle. He was clearly a predator now and at that point he couldn’t die soon enough for me. But now that he’s gone, I will confess to some feelings of sadness. There’s a child in me that’s hurt by the loss and even though the adult in me realizes he’d rape that child if given half a chance, I nonetheless allow him to mourn. I separated the Michael I loved from the thing he’d become long ago, which why I never had to remove any songs or music from my collection. Speaking of which who the fuck are these “fans” out buying songs. Why didn’t you already have it all!?! The only things I’m missing are videos and until I got my iPod had no reason to buy them. It’s only two I want at that and I already have “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” but I’ll be damned if I buy “Rock With You” now with the sheep.
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