ELEMENTARY, MY DEAR ROBIN

1. Avatar/Fox Wknd/$ 68.3 Total/$ 352.1

2. Sherlock Holmes/Warners Wknd/$ 38.4 Total/$ 140.7

3. Alvin & The Chipmunks 2/Fox Wknd/$ 36.6 Total/$ 157.3

4. It’s Complicated/Universal Wknd/$ 18.7 Total/$ 59.1

5. The Blind Side/Warner Wknd/$ 12.7 Total/$ 209.1

6. Up In The Air/Paramount Wknd/$ 11.4 Total/$ 45.0

7. The Princess & The Frog/Disney Wknd/$ 10.0 Total/$ 86.1

8. Did You Hear About The Morgans/Sony Wknd/$ 5.2 Total/$ 25.6

9. Nine/Weinstein Wknd/$ 4.3 Total/$ 14.0

10. Invictus/Warner Wknd/$ 4.1 Total/$ 30.8

WAR SMURFS IN SPACE

Avatar is now the fourth highest grossing film in history---so long as you don’t adjust for inflation. There, Gone With The Wind still rules without question and this won’t even break the top ten. But I have to admit I’m surprised. It’s not that Avatar is a bad movie, it’s just that it’s not exceptional. It’s Dances with Wolves in Space and James Cameron has said this himself. It’s yet another movie where a white guy gets assimilated by a native culture, winds up getting the hottest girl (usually the princess) and becoming their hero. Hell, Wes Studi is even here playing the role of “Angry Native Warrior Who Was Supposed To Get The Girl.” Clearly there’s a reason why we’re still doing this type of movie after a hundred years. It still makes money. Still, it would disingenuous to say that 3D had nothing to do with this. 3D and Imax save shitty movies like The Polar Express all the time (though not really, really shitty movies like My Bloody Valentine). I only went the 3D route myself. I wasn’t about to wait around or buy in advance just to see Dances With Wolves In Space (or Ferngully In Space given there’s an environmental angle) bigger, but the funny thing about it is that after awhile it’s all the same. It’s not like Cameron did any cheesey “3D” shots where something onscreen comes out at you, so you pretty much remember it in 2D. It’s very much an immediate experience. It’s fun at the moment, but it’s over almost immediately and in the end is really just a big Pixar film. But I’m not saying it’s bad. It’s very pretty and stuff blows up real nice. I think its success that due to “Oscar Bait” fatigue so people are flocking to see something that’s not trying to impress them with how monumental a piece of filmmaking it is for two solid hours.

HOLY POWERS OF DEDUCTION

Sherlock Holmes is down to number two and if you’ve read Sherlock Holmes like I did and stopped reading Sherlock Holmes because he made you feel like an idiot like I did, you’ll enjoy this. Guy Ritchie was also clearly one of those people who felt dumb reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s detectice, so he’s made a more “action” oriented Sherlock, who isn’t satisfied just solving a riddle, but punching out people while doing so. Basically…it’s Batman. Seriously. It actually opens up with him plotting out how he’s going to beat the crap out of someone based on observed weaknesses, something that Batman regularly does in the comics. Dr. Watson has also been redefined as an asskicker in his own right, thus fulfilling his “Robin” requirements as sidekick. Also, there’s head of police who needs help (Commissioner Gordon) and there’s even a romantic interest who happens to be a jewel thief, providing us with a “Catwoman.” The irony being Sherlock Holmes obviously came first so Batman’s detective aspects come from him and now he returns the favor. But let’s not pretend Robert Downey Jr. is playing anything other than Robert Downey Jr. He didn’t play Tony Stark in Iron Man and he’s not playing Sherlock Holmes here, but this isn’t the real Sherlock Holmes anyway, so who cares? Jude Law as Dr. Watson has the career save of a lifetime. After half-a-dozen failures as a lead, he finally has a hit as one of the most famous sidekicks of all time. He has excellent chemistry with Downey as the “bro-mance” between the two is given a very modern examination, with Holmes openly trying to stop Watson from getting married and moving out of 221 Baker Street (when they aren’t bickering and fighting).

EVERY PASSING DAY MALLRATS RISES HIGHER ON JASON LEE’S RESUME

Alvin & The Chipmunks The Sqeakual is at number three and what’s there left to say about something as offensively non-offensive as this? Everyone involved in this is a whore. There’s just no other word for it. There is zero imagination or creativity present. Just people doing something for a paycheck and going for the lowest common denominator. There was the tiniest bit of inspiration in the original creation of The Chipmunks and even Chipmunk Punk in the 80’s, but not this. And it’s doing so well, there will clearly be a third so everybody keeps a job in this economy.

IT’S QUITE SIMPLE ACTUALLY: END YOUR GODDAMN FILM

It’s Complicated holds at number four and while I’m objectively somewhat interested in it, seeing Nancy Meyers’ name on it tends to kill my enthusiasm, not to mention that near two-hour running time. This is not a two-hour movie, but neither was Something’s Got To Give. She just made it that way because she couldn’t decide how to end it so she gave it three endings. Meyers takes a decent enough concept the rides it until the wheels fall off and all the jokes are gone and I’m afraid of that happening again here.

BUT HOW CAN MISTUH CHARLEY FEEL GOOD ABOUT HIMSELF IF HE’S NOT INVOLVED?

The Blind Side holds at number five and I wonder if they cover the fact that it was initially a Black coach who took the boy in and actually enrolled him at the school where he’d discover his new family, or that he had a conscious determination to stay the hell away from anything that would get him locked up. In other words, he saved himself as much as anyone.

YET ANOTHER HOT B&T GIRL I ADORE

Up In The Air holds at number six and also in this is Vera Farmiga who may have just been handed her ticket to the big time, but if you’re like me, you’ve loved her since Touching Evil. Yeah, I know she was in The Departed, but that didn’t give her the heat she’s getting now. And I don’t remember much about Roar other than a young Heath Ledger was in it, but apparently so was she. Here, she plays George Clooney’s female equal in terms of being a detached road warrior, but actually she’s small step above him. It’s hinted at in the beginning, but made clear by the end. And yes, I knew that was a body double. She’s clearly packing some baby weight which looks good to me, but that toned 20-something wearing nothing but a tie was so utterly different from her soft curves I don’t even know why they bothered.

GOD’S IN HER HEAVEN AND ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD

The Princess and The Fog holds at number seven and is it a surprise to anyone that Oprah does one of the voices here? As if you could have Disney’s first Black princess without her. A bolt of lightning would have stuck Disney headquarters. And by “bolt of lightning” I mean she would have sicced a nation of housewives on them.

DRECK & THE CITY

Did You Hear About The Morgans is down to number eight and it’s rare a movie just looks so much like ass. Seriously. From the title on down, this looks like crap, which really disappoints me because I’ve been waiting to see them back together for over a decade now. See, back when Hugh Grant had his Four Weddings & A Funeral heat he made a lot of bad movies (Mickey Blue Eyes, The Englishman Who Went Up A Hill, Nine Months, etc) but the law of averages allowed at least one or two decent ones and one was a thriller called Extreme Measures with Gene Hackman. Grant played the typical “Young Doctor Who Cares” who stumbles onto Gene Hackman using homeless people for medicial experiments, though not for money but for actual cures. The old “does the ends justify the means” debate. Sarah Jessica Parker plays a nurse he enjoys a flirtation with and they had great chemistry. Too bad this was the best reunion they could find. Still, I’m trying to be optimistic given this is from the guy who gave us Two Weeks Notice, which was surprisingly good and Music & Lyrics was more a failure of casting, using Drew Barrymore when Hugh Grant is one of those guys who really does need an actress his own age. I’ll still probably see it, ‘cause I’m a romcom whore.

ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT OSCAR GOLD

Nine is a nine and I’ll give you a moment to enjoy the irony of that. Done? Okay. This is another on the “to see” list despite the poor reviews. It just looks like fun spectacle, and I really don’t expect much when I see Kate Hudson and Fergie are cast. Not to mention you’ve got Daniel Day Lewis, and five other Oscar winners on the other side (Nicole Kidman, Sofia Loren, Penelope Cruz, Judi Dench and Marion Cotillard). Though I’m sure the Tony-winning stars of the play are somewhere laughing their asses off at its failure.

THE END

Finally, closing out the top ten is Invictus.

YOU CAN GO HOME AGAIN…IF YOU DRIVE

There’s been no top ten for the last few weeks due to the holidays. This year I actually drove home because I refused to grab my ankles for the airlines (and there’s the little matter of the TV and Blu-ray player I just bought). Seriously, renting a full-sized car to drive to Georgia is like $44 before tax and gas as opposed to a ticket which would have cost me near $300. Also, I did a ride share to split the costs and driving duties. I used Craig’s List and before you get crazy on me, for whatever reasons, the only people who responded to me were either women or gay men, so I felt pretty safe. Though I did get my first taste of racism in years. One woman who’d agreed to come along oddly sent a picture of herself, but after she saw a picture of me on Facebook, she then put her own ad up and bailed on me. The really dumb thing about that was when she placed her own ad, she put a photo of herself and she was blonde and attractive. Gee, that’s not going to attract a serial killer. In any case, I wound up with two people which was fine. My only real problem was having to go out to LaGuardia to pick up the car at 7:00 am because if I changed the time I’d lose the $44 rate. I used Enterprise and because I’d always ignored their commercials I had no idea you got to pick your own car! Here I am expecting some mom & dad sedan, but when I got there was told to just pick out whatever I wanted from the “full size” section. The first thing I saw was a Dodge Charger so I was going to muscle car all the way home! One person didn’t have a ride into the city because she had a lot of luggage and since I was out there I just picked her up. She lived in Brooklyn, giving me a crash course in NYC driving in frigging morning rush hour two days after a snowstorm. What you don’t know about me is that I have a history of damaging cars. I damaged five cars before I left home and have done damage to one or two others when I go home to visit. There’s a reason I love living in the city and not needing a car is part of it. I’m a danger to myself and others. The girl was nice enough but clearly didn’t understand the blessed beauty of silence. We’re just riding together. We don’t have to become best friends. This isn’t a movie (needless to say, I didn’t find her attractive enough to tolerate it). The other person was a kid gong to my alma mater, NYU and we picked him up from his apartment in the Village. He’s in Tisch so he’s an actor/singer, going by the name of Cameron something or the other when his real name is something like “John Smith.” We made brief conversation about NYU where I assured him that snobby rich kids who couldn’t get into Ivy League schools, a lack of community and suicides were always part of the New York University experience. I was rewarded with “Wow, it was like that even back then.” Ouch. But at 22, he was literally young enough to be my son. He’d done the route before so he recommended we take 81 down rather than 95, which ran through the cities. It was a good call. Though technically longer, it was the same time if not less because we missed all the traffic of heading through places like DC. But we barely made it through The Holland Tunnel without an accident. Because of all the snow melting, when the car in front of me made a sudden stop I began hydroplaning directly at them. Fortunately, that was the only incident over the next 15 hours. I mean if you don’t count me trying not to fall asleep the first two hours, when they had mercifully fallen asleep sparing me conversation, but also stimulation. Ultimately, I decided to get a little shuteye, but was dismayed to look up and see her texting while she drove with a heavy foot. Fast and distracted was a not a good combination. For better or worse, she tired after barely two hours so I took over again. He’d been up all night and preferred not to and that’s not someone you want behind the wheel either. I wound up doing 9 of the 15 hours we were on the road. It was better that way considering when we finally had him drive, I woke to the car swerving because he too was texting. Sigh. Originally, they were just supposed to find their way from the airport where I returned the car, but it didn’t make any sense when I could drop them off. Plus, it gave me a chance to be alone in the car for the last half hour and I needed it. I’m glad I did it, but I’m not looking forward to repeating the experience any time soon. And if I do, I’ll make sure to get enough sleep so I can do it alone. Seriously. I’m not going to Facebook friend you, girl, so stop texting me about it. Nor do I have any interest in you singing on YouTube. You’re fucking 30. No one over the age 25 should be acting like that.

LET’S DO IT AGAIN IN ANOTHER 20 YEARS!

Speaking of Facebook, I don’t use my real name and don’t even show my face in my profile picture because I’m not looking to renew old friendships. If we were friends, we’d be talking now. Hell, I don’t talk to people who actually were my friends in high school and college, much less you muthfuckas I couldn’t stand. But not everyone feels the same and some are more industrious than others, which is how The Girl Next Door tracked me down on Facebook. Yes, I did have a beautiful girl living next door just like you’re supposed to in suburbia, but given my geek status you know there was never anything to it. Unlike my freaking sisters, she managed to use my email address and find me, so I had to give her an “A” for effort. She came over to visit while I was home and we did some catching up. She was twice divorced with two teenaged sons and time had been very, very good to her (she’s got curves now that she never had before). Fortunately, she’d been apart from the high school thing in her own way as much as I was, so even though she did attend some regular cookout reunions they did, she didn’t try too hard to rope me back into it. Not to mention, having people from the past annoy her (i.e. try to tap that like they wanted to in high school) she was more than understanding about my desire not to look back…even though she’s trying to get me to go to our first official reunion (my class typically fucked up the 20 year reunion). It ain’t gonna work, sweetie.

AND THIS HOW VIDEOGAMES STOPPED THE NEXT GENERATION

Also while home I finally, finally found out what everyone sees in the Wii. Now, I’m more of race, fight and blow shit up type of video gamer, but simulating the motions to box or bowl or play tennis is addicting…not to mention exhausting. My ass hurt for the next few days after bowling and the boxing looked like it was going to give my dad a stroke. He didn’t do much better with the Karaoke Revolution. He’s as tone deaf as anyone on the planet. Let all those myths about Black people being natural singers die now. Unlike most, I know my limits and stuck to a non-singing song, Modern English’s “I’ll Melt With You.” But do you know what’s surprisingly difficult? Rod fucking Stewart. He makes that raspy singing thing look easy, but you try to do it in key the way he does and see how far you get. As usual, some aunts and cousins and their kids came over Christmas and it turned in to a big thing with everyone around the Wii. Well, almost everyone. My cousin’s youngest son is now mobile and wanted to explore everything, so while his mom and dad karaoke, I spent the next few hours re-exploring every crevice of my home along with him trying to keep him out of trouble. It’s amazing how a year-old child can wear you down though he’s really not doing much of anything. It’s all the focus you have to give them that’s exhausting. Grandchildren are seriously becoming less and less likely and I get older and need to nap more and more. Sorry, mom.

IKEA IS NOT SWEDISH FOR K-MART

Because when it rains, it pours, my beloved DKNY Duvet ripped just when I’m tapped out now after the holidays. I sewed it up, but it looked like crap and I just can’t live that, but I can’t get the type of replacement I want right now (nothing less than a 500 thread count). This is what sent me out to Ikea on a butt-fucking cold Sunday morning to get one cheap. As you may or may not know we now have an Ikea in Brooklyn in Red Hook, so no more hauling out to Jersey. You can catch the train to at least two locations then catch the shuttle bus to Ikea. I opted for the Borough Hall stop, but thanks to wonderful track work I missed the 11:00 am bus and had to wait in the arctic air for the next one at 11:20---which had no heat! I was suddenly questioning how much I disliked my wounded DKNY at that point to put myself through that. Because I was freezing I decided to just do the walkthrough to warm up, rather than just heading to the Bedding section to get what I wanted. Ikea is dangerous that way because you’ll see cheap shit and then try to convince yourself you need it, like the $7 end table I saw. I need something, but not an end table and it took awhile to talk myself out of it. But what the fuck is up with these people going against the goddamned arrows! Can’t you see you’re going against traffic, you fucking moron!?! And dudes, I know you don’t want to be out shopping for your own home with the wife, but you don’t have to move your baskets aimlessly like boats cut adrift, bumping into everything. Once I found the cheap duvets, I called in The Council (my sisters, both the ones my parents gave me and the ones I made myself) to help me pick a color because they know what my bedroom looks like. Other people do too, but they aren’t talking to me any longer. Now, the ones in my budget that weren’t hideous only came in Black, White and Red. My room and sheets are red, so that might be too much, while White will look nice and clean, but will actually get dirty in a second. Black on the other hand makes you look like you’re a pimp or a vampire or both. The votes were for Black and I agreed, so feel free to visit me, the vampire pimp. Besides, it’s only temporary. Of course, I had to pick up a few other knick-knacks because like I said, Ikea is dangerous that way. But the important thing is I didn’t buy that goddamn end table.

FLAVA OF SHAMELESSNESS

VH1 quickly overcame its feelings about exploiting stupid people and have returned with two reality shows: one, another dating show spawned from Flava of Love by way of I Love New York in Frank the Entertainer in A Basement Affair, and Secrets of Aspen. Now, I never watched Flava of Love or I Love New York, but I at least gave this a look because the idea of being a grown man living at home may still be a possibility for me given how my office keeps laying people off. It’s more of the shameless attention whore parade that’s been going on for years. The willingness to be a fool or delusion to think you’ll be the one who won’t look like a fool continues unabated. But Frank’s family must have been pretty well off to have a house that freaking big in the New York City area. Is it really New York or fucking Long Island? Secrets of Aspen might as well be called “Real Housewives of Aspen” because it’s about a bunch of shameless broads (all of whom seem to have implants) who talk shit about each other’s backs. And like those shows, these aren’t the true wealthy since I sincerely doubt the really rich would be caught dead on TV, much less showing their asses like this.

ALL IS QUIET OF NEW YEAR’S DAY

Finally, it’s a new year and I ended the last one the way I did the previous year: in the company of lesbians. Yes, once again I was with my Jezebel crew in Brooklyn. If you remember last year, I actually mistook someone who was interested in me for a lesbian, bcause they so ruled the day, but this year, the party has taken some root and the straight girls were bringing their own men. It was at least 30-40% straight male which is very impressive. Now aside from my social fuck up last year, what truly bothered me was how I was dressed. Maybe more. The girls had clearly put some work into how they looked with dresses and heels, while I was one of the guys I always mock on a Saturday night: in jeans and a fucking t-shirt standing next to a woman in designer wear. Not this time. So I got up that morning to do some shopping. I surrendered my ego and moved up a pants size and was fortunate enough to find some Nautica dress pants on-sale for $25---marked down from $125. I’d have bought a few pairs, but I remain squarely in the “average range” so my size was just about gone. I also picked up a new white shirt to fit my cheese-expansion neck (Calvin Klein, bitches), a new tie (Nicole Miller) and a nice argyle sweater vest that actually fits considering my dad refuses to believe I’m a medium build and not large (Old Navy, muthafuckas). By the end I looked like I teach poetry at a women’s college in New England or an extra in Brideshead Revisited. And due to the fact that a) the other dudes dressed like normal dudes, meaning they didn’t dress at all and b) the guy who works for Ralph Lauren didn’t make it this year, I was the best-dressed man in the room. A room filled with lesbians. Even my crush from last year brought her own date, which is understandable given how I utterly disappointed her as a man, but I was dressed better than him too and he grew up in England, so he should know better. I brought along Chasing Amy this year (she actually showed up this time) and she in turn brought along a friend who is an Eastern European blonde woman suffering from a severe case of jungle fever and as the night progressed and she got more and more intoxicated informed me that I was “too American” and I needed to be “more African” and seize control of the music because “Black people have the best of everything.” I’m surprised she didn’t tell me I also needed to also drop the argyle, put a bone through my nose and let my dick hang out. These people amuse me, but they’re also irritating because like guys with an Asian fetish, it’s not you they’re interested in, but an ultimately degrading fantasy. Luckily, she realized she only did it enough to be amusing (and clearly she wasn’t attractive enough for me to overlook it), at one point trying to get me to go after another pretty blonde girl, so now you know who’s really buying all that interracial porn. It’s not just Tiger Woods and OJ. What’s funny is that the girl in question is yet another online friend and her fiancée is a fan of mine. And to top it off he was also from Alabama, which almost never happens. But by the end of the night, all of them were casualties. Chasing Amy took Jungle Fever home. The pretty blonde was fast asleep and her fiancée apparently moved into the bathroom. The party was starting to resemble a scene from Gone With the Wind with all the fallen. But me, I looked great and was doing fine and stumbled home around 4:00 am.

WHAT IS IT EVERY GIRL IS CRAZY ABOUT AGAIN?

Speaking of my fashion sense, aside from drinking more vodka and less tequila, my only New Year’s Resolution is to dress a little better overall. Not that I look bad, but when people tell you too much that you look good on a particular day what they’re really saying is, “Normally you look like shit” and nice jeans and designer shoes aside, I have let things slide. Not so much nice shirts and sweaters as comfortable henleys and pullovers. Sigh. Cary Grant would slap my face to see how far I’ve fallen. Luckily the only thing I requested from my family for Christmas they provided: a black cardigan. An essential staple of one’s wardrobe. That little piece of clothing can upgrade just about anything and it starts now! Right after this nap.