AN EARLY FALL

1. Batman: Dark Knight/WB Wknd/$ 26.0 Total/$ 441.5
2. Pineapple Express/Sony Wknd/$ 22.4 Total/$ 40.5
3. The Mummy 3/Universal Wknd/$ 16.1 Total/$ 70.7
4. Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 Wknd/$ 10.8 Total/$ 19.7
5. Step Brothers/Sony Wknd/$ 8.9 Total/$ 80.9
6. Mamma Mia/Universal Wknd/$ 8.0 Total/$ 104.0
7. Journey To The Center… Wknd/$ 4.9 Total/$ 81.8
8. Hancock/Sony Wknd/$ 3.3 Total/$ 221.7
9. Swing Vote/Touchstone Wknd/$ 3.1 Total/$ 12.0
10. Wall-E/Disney Wknd/$ 3.0 Total/$ 210.1

BATMAN WILL NEVER ASK ABOUT THE FAREWELL DRUGS
Batman: The Dark Knight holds at number one for the fourth week in a row and how grateful is Gary Oldman for the role of Jim Gordon to give him steady work not in the villain ghetto? It was 22 years ago (yes, YOU ARE OLD) he instantly became the “Hot Young Actor” with his portrayal of Sid Vicious in Sid & Nancy and quickly became the heir to Dennis Hopper as the “Bad Guy of Weight.” Like, Dennis Hopper and Alan Rickman, if you wanted an actor who would instantly give your bad guy some weight, Gary Oldman became the guy to call. From Lee Harvey Oswald to Dr. Smith to Pontus Pilate to Dracula himself he faced off against everyone from Keanu Reeves to Bruce Willis to…Jesus (well, Jeremy Sisto as Jesus). He joked he was one of the “pale gangly Englishmen” at the time, which included Tim Roth, another “Bad Guy of Weight” with whom he’s often mistaken and appropriately made the film version of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (they were even originally cast in the other’s role). Roth was the bad guy in The Incredible Hulk, so he didn’t make out as well as Oldman, but then again, he never acquired the brief leading man status Oldman did (though he did score by becoming one of Quentin Tarantino’s favorite players). My favorite Gary Oldman role is actually a very small one in the incredibly underrated Basquiat. It was directed by artist Julian Schnabel and Oldman plays a fictional version of him. It also stars Geoffrey Wright, Benicio Del Toro, William Dafoe, Dennis Hopper and killing both their roles, Michael Wincott as Basquiat’s agent and David Bowie as Andy Warhol.

FULLY BAKED
Pineapple Express opens at number two and it was a mistake on my part to see this because it’s just another stoner comedy. I didn’t think the Cheech & Chong movies were funny. I didn’t think Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle was funny, but as an exception to the rule, I did think Half-Baked was (but that had David Chapelle). I thought this might be a little something more, but it’s not. It’s just about two stoned dudes thrown into an unusual situation, in this case a war between drug gangs. It even starts off on a higher level, showing us top-secret military weed tests in the 30’s. Now, why would there be a top-secret military weed test? No reason, and that’s the over-the-top type irreverent absurdity this movie desperately needed. It makes me realize just how poorer the world is without Monty Python and unfortunately the guys from Broken Lizard apparently only having one good movie in them (Super Troopers). And I’ve had enough of Seth Rogen’s ass to last me a fucking lifetime. Enough already of both him and the entire Apatow clan. It’s really sad these guys have apparently taken up the mantle of the Ben Stiller/Vince Vaughn/Wilson Brothers comedy franchise because they aren’t nearly as funny. I’d sooner see Dodgeball or Zoolander before any Apatow movie. And I don’t know what to make of the increasing amount of homoeroticism in each movie that reaches a new peak here with not just the protagonists regularly expressing love and affection towards one another but the antagonists as well. Their deliberate jokes are nothing compared to the unintentional ones. But I am glad to see James Franco finally come to the forefront. Enough with the ugly, awkward dudes! We get it! And I notice you ugly, fat fuckers lack the empathy to allow for less-than-physically perfect women to succeed. Though even here, they don’t give Franco the hot girl. Instead, it’s part of the joke that Rogen is dating a hot high school senior. I’m sure in reality she relished her one scene with Franco.

SOME OF US MISS THE 90’S MORE THAN OTHERS
The Mummy: Curse of The Dragon Emperor is down to number three and also in this is none other than former pretty boy Russell Wong (remember Rising Son?), reuniting with Jet Li (they were in Romeo Must Die together) and again playing a friend who turns on him. This time it’s over Michelle Yeoh and for five whole seconds you get two Asians actually making out in a Hollywood film. Then it’s back to business as usual as Michelle Yeoh’s daughter by Russell Wong falls for Brendan Fraser’s dull as dirt son. What’s worse is that the actor himself is Australian, so a decent English accent shouldn’t have been beyond him, but we’re supposed to accept that a child raised in England, who had an English accent the last time we saw him, would now have an American accent. That will never stop being stupid. Oh, and he’s supposed to be a quarter Egyptian, something the hack writers clearly and lame casting director clearly overlooked when casting one of the WASPiest bastards on god’s green earth.

WHAT’S THE GUY VERSION ‘CAUSE DUDES DON’T SHARE CLOTHES
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 opens at number four or as I like to call it “Very Little Sex & A Few Cities” as this is the junior version of four close female friends and no review can discuss it without mentioning Sex & The City. I remember when the original came out a few years ago and the two unknowns were America Ferrara and the tall, blonde who made me feel like a dirty old man. Now they’re better known as Ugly Betty and Serena on Gossip Girl. For reasons known only to their agents, neither Alexis Bledel nor Amber Tamblyn really moved beyond their TV success. I didn’t see the first and I probably won’t see this one either. Sorry, but my estrogen count is high enough. I was probably the only dude in the audience for Centerstage and Stick It not on an FBI sex offender watch list, so I think I can be allowed to let this one slide.

THIS MAY MEAN A COMEDY TROJAN WAR
Step Brothers is down to number five and while Will Ferrell was part of the Stiller/Wilson Brothers/Vaughn comedy group, he was obviously co-opted by the Apatow clan, as this is from them and none other than Seth Rogen makes an appearance here, placing him in the top ten twice this week.

ELSEWHERE
Mamma Mia is down to number six, followed by Journey To The Center of The Earth at number seven and Hancock at number eight.

THANK HEAVEN FOR SMALL FAVORS
Swing Vote is down to number nine and Dennis Hopper is complaining about his role being cut out of this when what he should be doing is thanking someone. Maybe even sending a fruit basket. This isn’t Dark Knight or Iron Man you missed out on. It’s another self-aggrandizing Kevin Costner movie. You got paid and get none of the blame. Count your blessings.

MON-E
Finally, Wall-E closes out the top ten at number ten and here’s some odd news: Wall-E is not that successful. Its budget was $180M and it has only made $213 worldwide. That’s not good, people. The Incredibles cost $92M and made $632M. Finding Nemo cost $94 and made $865M. Ratatouille cost $150M and made $621. Even the disappointing (in my opinion) Cars made $462M from its $120M. So what went wrong with Wall-E? I’m going to stick with my judgment that you need a bad guy. Finding Nemo showed it doesn’t have to be a serious villain, but you need someone to overcome and struggle against and Wall-E lacks that. And while all Pixar films have “life lessons” it’s something else to be beaten over the head with them and Wall-E doesn’t spare the rod when letting you know that you’re a fat slob and destroying the world. Let me put it this way: I couldn’t wait to see The Incredibles again. I couldn’t wait to see Finding Nemo again. And even though it will join the DVD library, I’m not itching to see Wall-E tomorrow which is telling considering I’m a geek and it’s a science fiction movie about robots in the future in space.

IT’S FULL BODIED, JIM
The summer is winding down and it’s time to get back into a more substantial movie mode and for me began with my first indie film in fucking forever: Bottle Shock (the term refers to the damage done to a wine in travel). This is one of two films this year about the entry of California into the world wine market in the 70’s. It makes sense as when fall comes, I’ll put the tequila away and go back to drinking pressed, fermented grapes. While technically an indie film, this is a generic and clichéd as anything out of Hollywood. In fact, if it had a female protagonist it would qualify as a Lifetime movie. See, an indie film has to go somewhere a mainstream film would not either in subject matter or execution and neither is present here, so it’s a waste of a an attractive cast in a nice location with a romantic and delicious subject matter. The story takes place in the late 70’s but beyond a few fashion choices, one period song (I guess it’s all they could afford) and one really bad wig, you’d never know. Unfortunately, that bad wig belongs to what is ostensibly the main character: Captain Kirk. See, Chris Pine is going to play Captain Kirk in the new Star Trek movie and how I entertained myself when the movie disappointed me was telling myself that’s Captain Kirk up there in horrible bad wig. I’m sorry, but he couldn’t grow his hair why? And I simply was not buying him as a surf bum son of vineyard owner born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Bill Pullman as the vineyard owner is written in a horribly schizophrenic matter, given to bellowing most of the time. The movie seemingly starts off with Alan Rickman as the Englishman who organizes the tasting and comes to America to gather California wines, but then switches over to the Americans and that’s a mistake, because his story was equally as interesting and funnier with Dennis Farina as his wine-loving, expatriate sidekick. A real indie film would have gone with the less romantic character, while this one switches to the handsome young American and then fails to adequately tell his story. Even Bill Pullman’s story as the real estate lawyer who gives it all up to start a vineyard while his former partner marries his wife would have been better (and I’ve told you in one line what the movie needlessly obscures). But it does succeed in one important area where far too many movies about food and wine fail: it makes you want to drink some wine. And there’s no shortage of romanticizing it or that of the life of a vineyard owner, which are both very important. Unfortunately, this cannot overcome miscasting, a weak script and one of the most annoying musical scores in recent memory. Every other scene of forced drama is accompanied by piano so maudlin, you crave a drink just to get through it.

‘CAUSE FALL IS THE NEXT SEASON AND I FELL DOWN. GET IT?
Fall came early for me this year when I had my very first spill on my bike. I misjudged my entry from the street to the sidewalk and the next thing I know the ground came up to hit me and there was a growing pool of blood in my hand. What’s funny is that I fell so hard the earphones I was wearing shattered on the sidewalk, but I don’t have any head injuries. The irony is, I was only riding on a Wednesday night because of a previous injury, having hyper-extended my elbow. I couldn’t fully extend my arm or even lift a pair of shoes without it hurting, but oddly it didn’t bother me to ride my bike---unless I hit a bump with my arm locked. Then I wept like a child. The fall also bruised my right hip to the point were I couldn’t cross my legs and left a large swelling on my left leg. Combine those with my arm and the cuts on my hand I was feeling a little Indiana Jones-ish. It was more a question of where didn’t it hurt. Nonetheless I returned to kung-fu on Friday with a bandaged hand and an elastic brace on my elbow and on Saturday I took another trip up the West Side to the George Washington Bridge and this time I rode across it to New Jersey and into Fort Lee Park---this time with a camera. I’m not a fan of heights and I’m even less of a fan when there aren’t adequate measures stop you from falling, and the GW Bridge could use a little work. See, the guard rails are only chest high on both sides and if you’re on a bike your accidental choice of dooms are falling into traffic or over into the Hudson. Not helping are the vibrations you feel from the bridge traffic and the bike path being narrow to begin with and shared with pedestrians. It was fun to do once, but next week I think we’re going back to Brooklyn. Time to try the Williamsburg Bridge.

NOW I HAVE TO GET THAT DAMN CAPTAIN AMERICA BIKING JERSEY
On my way back home from the GW Bridge I stopped for a Dominican woman and her son who seemed to need help on the bike bath just off 131st street. I thought it might be a time or direction thing, but as it turned some kid had taken her son’s bike and she obviously couldn’t catch up to them on foot. Before giving it any real thought I went off after them, only realizing later that I might have just signed up to be that poor slob in the opening of Law & Order who winds up dead. It just looks like I was innocently shot to death by a 14-year-old bike thief but was actually set up by my boss/wife/husband-of-woman-I’m-sleeping-with because they knew that not being a real New Yorker I wouldn’t just blow the woman off like the other bikers. For a moment it looked like I wasn’t going to catch them, but as the bike path ends for a detour onto the streets, the kids stopped to switch bikes. “Hey! Where’d you get that bike!?!” I yelled and kid now mounting the bike quickly pointed to his buddy, the original rider, saying, “He took it!” I think it’s safe to say his future in crime will be very limited. I yelled at him to get off the bike and the two of them took off, the confessor on foot. Two valets from the nearby Chinese restaurant (believe it or not, there are some fairly upscale restaurants nearby) came over laughing asking about it, which was a relief because there was also the chance I’d be seen as a bike thief myself leading to another untimely demise by cop and like all my death fantasies my biggest concern continues to be the people going through my room and marveling how the comic books and action figures out-number the porn. I walked the bike back to the mother and her son realizing that whenever I actually do a good deed, I’m never wearing one of my thirty-something superhero t-shirts. I am, however, often wearing them while drinking. I’m not quite sure what that means. Of course afterwards my bleeding heart liberalism kicked in and I felt some amount of pity for the little thief. I mean, shouldn’t every kid have a bike to ride around on during the summer? Especially when your best friend does? I feel the same way about the four Spanish kids I’ve seen both weekends; three are on bikes and one is standing. Even more so now you realize he’s simply enduring his position. Now, this in no way justifies taking someone else’s bike and in fact makes it worse considering you just assigned someone else your position in life of wanting but not having. But he was still just a kid and a kid should have a bike in the summer.

SADLY, NO MEDALS FOR 100-YARD DASH TO CORNER STORE FOR CHEETOS
Okay, there’s Black guy swimming in the Olympics for the US? What’s funny is that in his little promo piece where he talks about almost drowning as a kid is that like all clichés there’s a kernel of truth to the myth that Black people can’t swim. He flat out says that African-Americans are much more likely to drown than other Americans which is why he’s using his success to build swimming programs. Note it’s African-Americans, because if you’re waiting on someone from The Caribbean to drown, you might want to get a book and make yourself comfortable, because drunk, stoned and with a shark on their legs, those muthafuckas are not going down. In other words, if you hear that Chris Brown has drowned, rest assured Rhianna is fine. And watching the Olympics just leaves me in awe, because more so than regular sports, these people have trained for at least a decade to compete at this one event. Everything else is just a warm-up. Their training is like a full time job for which they don’t get paid and they do it because they want to be the absolute best in the world at something. Needless to say it’s a mentality I cannot wrap my head around as a hangnail tends to keep me from doing something, my new bike love not withstanding. And they’re not just doing it better than anyone else in the world. Sometimes it’s better than anyone has ever done it in history. Watching the swimming competition is to see world records fall in just the speed trials before people whose bodies look like they were carved out of stone. And it’s both funny and sad listening to the commenters praise the Chinese gymnasts and bemoan how the Eastern Bloc nations aren’t the best any longer. Yeah, it’s called fucking freedom, you douchebags! I mean aside from the fact the Chinese are obviously cheating with underage girls, when someone from the secret police is going to take your parents off to a labor camp if you don’t win, you tend to hit all your marks.

I AIN’T SCARED OF DEATH, MUTHAFUCKA
Okay, what is going on with Death and the bruthas!?! Is there some government quota that needs to be met in the afterlife!?! First, Bernie Mac dies from complications due to pneumonia and I’ll echo everyone else alive and point out that Dane Cook and Carlos Mencia are perfectly healthy while George Carlin and Bernie Mac are dead. On the upside, this will hopefully put an end to any chance of an Ocean’s 14. Not to mention his funeral will be one first class Hollywood event if all his co-stars show up. First of all, if you’re Black, he probably worked with you. From Eddie Murphy to Ice Cube to Halle Berry, he worked with you. And between Charlie’s Angels and the Ocean’s movies he worked with everyone else. Then a true giant is lost in Isaac Hayes. For better or worse, he’s best known now for his time as Chef on South Park, but this is writer of the best badass theme song ever: Shaft. He was also part of the golden age of Stax records and if you don’t know what that means you need to get your commie ass out of my country because obviously the taste of Hot Buttered Soul is unknown to you. He apparently died running on his treadmill, which is yet another argument to sit on your ass. But get this: Isaac Hayes and Bernie Mac were in a movie together that’s coming out this fall. Also in it? Samuel L. Jackson, who seriously needs to watch himself in the coming months. Take whatever good luck charm Morgan Freeman is carrying around since death obviously tried to snatch his ass too.

A RAT WITH A DIAMOND
While it sickens me that Brett Farve is playing in New Jersey, it does mean that Jets games will now be worth watching.