1. Inglorious Basterds/Weinstein Wknd/$ 37.6 Total/$ 37.6
2. District 9/TriStar Wknd/$ 18.9 Total/$ 73.5
3. G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra/Paramount Wknd/$ 12.5 Total/$ 120.5
4. The Time Traveler’s Wife/Paramount Wknd/$ 10.0 Total/$ 37.4
5. Julie & Julia/Sony Wknd/$ 9.0 Total/$ 59.3
6. Shorts/Warner Brothers Wknd/$ 6.6 Total/$ 6.6
7. G-Force/Disney Wknd/$ 4.2 Total/$ 107.3
6. The Goods/Paramount Wknd/$ 5.4 Total/$ 5.4
8. Harry Potter & The Half Blood Prince Wknd/$ 3.5 Total/$ 290.3
9. The Ugly Truth/Sony Wknd/$ 2.9 Total/$ 82.9
10.Post Grad/Sony Wknd/$ 2.8 Total/$ 2.8
JUST KEEP HIM AWAY FROM BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS
Inglorious Basterds opens at number one and I took a pass on Tarantino’s latest visit to the genre films of his youth because, well, I could give a crap about WWII genre films to begin with (this is a remake of a 70’s action film starring Bo Svenson and Jim Brown and nothing screams B-movie more than that pairing), so I’m not going to put up with another one of his baroque bloodlettings for something I’m really not interested in. Yes, the bloom is off the rose. Well, actually it was off the rose with Jackie Brown, but I do like Asian action films, so I got suckered back in with Kill Bill (and the sight of the homage to Bruce Lee’s yellow Game of Death tracksuit). As much as I do enjoy Tarantino’s films, the non-stop shout-outs, homages and flat out rip-offs of other films can be tiring because you’re constantly being yanked out of whatever current film you’re in and back into his source material. In fact, his films operate on two levels: the film itself and the annotations going on in your head, but only if you consider the latter enjoyable. If not, the film’s not working at all. However, it can be, but only when the mental annotations stop, which usually isn’t until much later, like on cable and you can just watch the movie. And I still insist that with every passing film the importance of Roger Avary to his early films becomes more and more evident. Let’s see, it’s August, so yeah, maybe I’ll watch this on DVD when I’m home for Christmas.
THE JERK…IN SPACE
District 9 is down to number two and the CGI in this is so good I was shocked to find out it wasn’t a bunch of dudes in rubber bug suits. I mean, the cute little kid alien was obvious, but some of the adults are just great. Even more impressive is learning some scenes were improv’d, which is something that rarely occurs with special effects heavy science fiction films. Also the film dares to have a protagonist, not a hero, as he is not very likable at the beginning of the film. He’s a bit of a douchebag who laughs as he kills a hive of alien embryos, joking about conducting an “abortion” and the popping sound they make as they die. Even when he begins his transformation into an alien and becomes a victim of the same corporation he once served without question, he remains a bit of a dick and discovers no self-awareness until the film’s last ten minutes.
THE “A” WAS ACTUALLY FOR “ACTOR” BECAUSE THEY ALL DO THIS
G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is down to number tree and also in this is Sienna Miller whose portrayal of The Baroness is one of the best things about the movie, but when exactly did the world become one big Hawthorne novel that Sienna Miller was painted with a big scarlet letter for her love life? Now, I’m not saying she isn’t a skank of sorts for hooking up with someone else’s man more than once, but in the 21st Century is there really some unconscious social movement to punish her for it? And notice how Angelina Jolie got a pass for Brad Pitt and he for her, while Jude Law was totally seen as a douche and the married guy from Brothers & Sisters she was boning was actually kicked off the show, though they insist it’s totally unrelated. I guess the lesson here is, if you’re going to cheat or be the other woman, you both have be really, really, really, really pretty or you’re going down.
BEHIND EVERY GOOD WOMAN…
The Time Traveler’s Wife is down to number four and will Eric Bana be the latest member of the Michael Strahairn Club, that is, the male who can never carry a film himself, but makes a living supporting A-list females? Other members also include Dermot Mulroney and Mark Ruffalo. I ask, because when I see how this film is being sold, it’s all about her and a quick look at their resumes puts her squarely in the lead.
IT NEVER REALLY GOT BETTER THAN DESPERADO
Julie & Julia is down to number five, followed by Shorts opening at number six and this is the latest from Robert Rodriquez and he’s another director whose success continues to amaze me given how bad he is at it. His saving grace is that because he’s an asshole who’ll fuck a union over every chance he gets, his films are made pretty cheaply so profitability has a very lose threshold. I don’t know what this is about and could care less. The real question is will the same forces that are trying to punish Sienna Miller come after him and Rose McGowan?
THE OTHERS
G-Force is down to number seven, followed by Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince at number eight and The Ugly Truth still hanging around at number nine.
IN A FEW YEARS SHE’LL BE OPENLY TALKING ABOUT A GILMORE GIRLS MOVIE
Finally, Post Grad closes out the top ten at number ten I’ll bet Alexis Bleidel is a little more appreciative of being forced to make that Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants sequel now. Welcome to the real world, kid. And could this look more uninteresting? Her character more dull? “I’m pretty, white and clearly have loving, supporting upper middle class parents I can stay with until I find a job while my musician friend who actually loves me stands by until I figure it out.” Exactly what’s the conflict here? Where’s the struggle? It’d be different if she were on her own and had to work the burger place or mom and dad wanted her out or yes, even if she were a little less pretty so that we know the world wouldn’t be laid out for her, but none of that’s here. Compare it to Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada. Also pretty, white, loving upper middle class parented, but out in the world struggling, taking shit to pay bills. There’s no shit here, so there is no movie. And this should have come out in May or June anyway.
BUT DON’T THINK I’M COMING TO YOUR BIRTHDAY PARTY
So one of my original Geek Girls turned 50 and there was a birthday party. Now, I couldn’t be my normal anti-social self and not attend, because this was 50. Major B-day. Hell, I didn’t think it was possible for me to have 50-year-old friends. Only my parents have friends in their 50’s. It’s at this moment the Shadow of Death put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Au contraire, mon frere.” A mutual friend who was organizing the event had asked me if I were going make artichoke dip or at least send her the recipe. Now, I was briefly infatuated with the artichoke dip for a while but one thing always bothered me: what the hell are these vegetables doing in my cheese? So for this I decided to try a cheese dip and not just any dip, a white cheese dip. The secret is a béchamel sauce as the base. To this you add a touch of garlic and minced onions sautéed in olive oil; chopped jalapeños and half a pound of Monterey jack and come up with heaven. The party was ironically enough held in the same building in the Wall Street area where The Libertine last lived with her now-husband. We were on the roof deck which seemed like a bad idea in this August weather, but it was a lot cooler downtown than it was mid-town thanks to the proximity of the ocean and it was even better on the roof. The party was a lot of familiar faces either through her annual Oscar party or from our days at Columbia House---not that I remembered anyone’s name at all, but that’s just how I do. In need of validation I made people try the cheese dip and once my ego was satisfied (though I still think the béchamel needed another few minutes) I began my drinking because it was hot and the beer was cold. You know you’ve getting old when parties no longer become an occasion for drama. No fights, no hook ups, just conversation and food. Contrast to your 20’s where there was nothing but fighting, hook-ups and rarely ever food. I remember a party once where we had to pull some guy off his girlfriend and she wound up sleeping on our sofa. Now the closest thing to it were a few French party crashers, who probably came for the trio of girls who accidentally crashed because the person who lived there wanted to show her friends the roof. They stayed and we all made conversation. Well, there also was our mutual friend who was mad that I’d never returned any of her messages (including the one about the dip) sent to me on Facebook. Hey, if you’re going to be pissed at me not returning Facebook messages, emails, texts or phone calls you need to get in line behind my mom, dad, sisters and people I’ve known for 25 years, ‘cause they’re waiting on responses too. Besides, I made the dip.
STRANGELY I DON’T HEAR THE ROCKY THEME IN MY HEAD…EVER.
It’s much to my shame and regret that I’ve become one of those people. You know, those freaks that get up early on the weekends? I did the last Summer Streets this Saturday and not because I was drunk either. I did it because I noted how otherwise empty the streets were and I’m really, really sick of people when I’m riding my bike. Asides from being dumbasses who cause collisions, so many are just so fucking slow! I was actually enjoying riding at twilight (watching the sunset on the Statue of Liberty helps to justify all I go through to live here), but I’ve had to push my ride back until actual nightfall, because of all the annoying assholes out there. Also, riding in the morning freed up my afternoon to do…shit. Oh, shut up. I’m sure there’s something I could or should be doing. In any case I got up on Saturday to ride Summer Streets taking my previous route through Central Park to exit on 72nd and ride down, back up and then finish looping Central Park, giving me a solid 24 miles. Thankfully, not only had the rain stopped but the erratic weather had kept all the wimps away, so even though I started later, it was actually emptier this week than last week when it was sunny (and there was no awkward run-in with Chasing Amy). And yes, Central Park does look like hell with all the fallen trees. And I call the people who are up that early freaks (or failed boxers training for that one last shot) because their lack of bodyfat bears me out. Only the truly exercise-crazy are up early on a Saturday. Me, it’s my hate that has me up. Where discipline fails, anger and irritation succeed. I’m hoping to get so angry at my gut that I’ll stop inhaling cheese…but I doubt it.
NOW ONLY IF I COULD MAKE THEM TALK
No, I did not succumb to The Gap’s advertising for their 1969 jeans and their accompanying $20 off sale and buy an 8th pair of jeans in eight months and you can’t prove otherwise.
ACCENT HOOR
It’s not new that I’m a tremendous accent whore, but it only recently occurred to me that this has crossed over into my appreciation of music as well. In addition to the track “Paris” that I had up here a few weeks ago, I just discovered “Awaken” by Sophie & Ives, which is pretty much an Australian woman talking over music. Then I realized the only track I have off of Elastica’s last album was “My Sex” which is lead singer Justine Friedman talking over music and the 90’s One Hit Wonder band, Dishwalla (Counting Blue Cars), had a hidden track called “I’m Learning To Sew” which is also just an English accented woman talking over music (in my mind it’s Naomi Campbell, don’t ask me why). I mentioned this on my Facebook page and Former Movie Buddy contributed “Exciting New Direction” from her friend’s band, The New Deal, where they have an Englishwoman reading verbatim the message from his answering machine firing him. I’m open to more suggestions. Just a woman, an accent (English, French, German, whatever) and some music.
PRETTY DUMB
Rebecca (The Noxema Girl) Gayheart her husband Eric Dane and some failed beauty queen make a tape together…AND THEY DON’T HAVE SEX!!! Finally, some actually gorgeous people make a tape and they don’t do any real fucking. That’s just great. And they wonder why we think pretty = stupid. Guarantee you Gayheart’s ugly, fat ex-boyfriend, Brett Ratner has a sex tape with her, because the last thing anyone would want to see would be that beached whale on top of her, which is why it probably exists. In high definition digital video with Dolby sound no less.
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