2013 Film Review: June
I feel like that handsome bastard is everywhere. In every nook, in every cranny. On the minds of every child, and on the breath of every dying man’s last gasp.
When I close my eyes, and I mean really squint them shut like when a little kid is making a funny squishy face, it goes perfectly dark. But after a while, I see a brilliant phosphorescent blue light start to appear in my mind’s eye. The light eventually morphs into the same image every time – that of a shirtless Mathew McConaughey, glistening with sweat and wrestling a hungry Snow Leopard.
Like I said, the man is everywhere.
Which makes it all the more strange that we made it all the way to June before seeing the robust rascal up on screen.
What’s it About:
McConaughey plays the titular Mud, a mysterious stranger who is hiding out in a boat stuck in a tree on an island in a river. Ask Dr Seuss for directions to get you there. Mud befriends two local youths, and wants them to help him fix the boat, so that he can rescue his true love. There is absolutely no feasible reason for McConaughey to take off his shirt. By the end of the film, McConaughey has taken off his shirt.
A handsome lovesick fugitive, living in a tree boat and taking young lads under his wing – in a film that starts off as a romantic drama and morphs into an intense action film two thirds of the way through. Let’s face it, this is the most Patrick Swayze film that Patrick Swayze never starred in.
Also a joy to behold, neighbourhood evil-gaze-psycho extraordinaire Michael Shannon playing heavily against type as an affable womanizing stoner uncle.
Reese Witherspoon kinda gives me the shits. Or maybe I’m mistaking her with that idiot Alicia Silverstone, who feeds her kid by chewing up his food and spitting it into his mouth like a bird. No shit, google it.
Guys, do you want to watch a flick with your lady but are scared she’ll pick some awful Ashton Kutcher romantic dreck? Ladies, do you want to watch a film with your man, but are scared he’s going to chuck on some filthy nonsense where hang-gliding Werewolves shoot Ninjas in the dick with ray guns? Then Mud is the saving day – the happy medium ground that is one part romance one part action. Like I said, a Swayze kinda joint. I give it the “Chick Flick Guys Can Dig” seal of approval.
The Final Word:
Not a bad little film, but best of all is that it’s a film a couple can snuggle on the couch and watch. Ugh. I can’t believe I just typed that. Now I just feel like kicking myself in the nuts.
What’s It About:
Clark Kent is an interesting chap, his alien origins have played havoc on his physiology, causing him to be super strong, super fast and imperviouys to harm. The only thing that can harm him, are shards of his home planet knows as Kryptonite. This causes him to feel a crippling sense of fatigue, and to bleed heavily from the eyes. I know how he feels, those are the exact same symotons I suffer when I catch an episode of Farmer Wants a Wife.
Special Effects have come a long way in the last few decades, and we’ve been clamouring for a decent bit of Superman related antics. 2006’s Superman Returns was two hours of the big S lifting heavy shit, hardly what we were after. Man of Steel tops it with Super powered titans tearing shit up at an alarming rate. But more on that in the next section.
Father figures have always played a large part in the Superman mythos, and Kevin Costner and Russel Crowe don’t disappoint as the two contrasting Daddies.
Although it is a touch overlong, the opening scene on Krypton is pretty funky.
Michael Shannon graduated with high honours from the Henry Rollins school of angry eye fucking, he is wonderfully sinister as the villainous Zod – storming round his scenes with a glowering intensity that would make a rabid Rottweiler sweat with fear.
Amy Adams does a decent Lois Lane.
Christopher Nolan made everybody a cuntload of money with his Batman trilogy, so the studio execs thought it would be prudent to get him to weigh in on a new Superman franchise. “Bring that popular darkness and gloom” some fuckhead money-counter must have uttered. And so Clark Kent spends half the film broodily lurching from angsty scene to angsty scene, dripping with existential gloom like he’d just Marathon watched every episode of The O.C..
Herein lines the problem – this simply isn’t what Superman is about. Superman is a character of hope, the ultimate nice guy. He isn’t Bruce Wayne. He is an unstobbale beam of loving light.
Once Zod and his minions hit town, the action cranks up a notch. Superman precedes to take the battle away from populated areas, forcing his foes to fight in barren areas away from civilisation…is how it would go down in the comic books. HOWEVER, In this film Superman smashes enemies into buildings with reckless disregard, and at one point even throws a guy into a petrol tanker in a train yard causing the whole area to explode. He fucks up half of his home town of Smallville, before taking the biffo to Metropolis and ruining the fuck out of that place too. Skyscrapers topple like playing cards, and the casualties must have been in the tens of thousands.
Like I said, this simply isn’t what Superman is about.
And if you’re gonna fuck up the character of Superman, you might as well fuck up Clark Kent too. We get a glimpse of Superman’s alter ego at the end of the film as he starts his reporting job at The Daily Planet. Remember the loveable, insecure dorky and completely iconic image of Clark Kent? The director sure as fuck didn’t. We get Henry Cavill strutting into the offices with tousled hipster hair, trendy thick rimmed glasses, and a stylish plaid shirt barely concealing his rippling muscles. You could almost hear the secretaries swooning as he fuck struts into the offices. As a Diet Coke commercial this would be perfect, as a secret identity it’s complete shit.
Superman will return in a film in which he fights Batman, and the seeds are planted for the creation of the Justice League. The film is named Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, a title so awful my keyboard developed irritable bowel syndrome when I typed it out.
What’s it About:
Vin Diesel and his loveable gang of idiots have been hiding out after the events of FF5, but their peaceful existence is turned upside down when The Rock reappears in their lives with a proposition – help him foil handsome villain number 32A, and their criminal records will be wiped clean. Car racing, fighting, and exotic locations abound. Oh, and a tonne of sexual tension. Seriously, I can’t believe Vin Diesel and the Rock don’t end up fucking by the end of the film.
The fight scene of Vin and the Rock vs some enormous British beefcake on a cargo plane is one of the year’s best. No shit, Vin takes a running head butt at the guy like an angry mountain goat.
Somewhere between the fourth and fifth films, the series owners realised how stupid the whole fucking franchise was (yet still a pretty penny earner), and embraced the whole dumb-fuck action aspect of it…and started producing highly entertaining action films. FF6 is as high octane fun as FF5 – and the best part was my petrol headed mates who got upset that the films were no longer “Top Gear with Calvin Klein models”. Ha! Go fuck yourselves!
But don’t get too teary eyed Motor Sports fans – there’s still a bunch of pretty cars if that’s your thing. Not much of a motorhead myself. Sports cars are just giant shiny penises. But if metallic cocks is your bag, this film will please.
Michelle Rodriguez. I just can’t get into her. Maybe I need to try more of her films.
The Final Word:
If you can imagine Ian Fleming sitting down and writing an action film with that dickhead from High School who used to spend his lunch periods doing burnouts in the car park – then you have a fair idea what to expect from Fast and Furious 6. Silly fun, just don’t admit to your “smart” friends that you enjoy it.
What’s it About:
A documentary crew follows around an elderly Indonesian man by the name of Anwar Congo. Nice guy, helpful with his information. A shame he spent a good portion of the 1960’s leading a death squad to execute thousands of “communists” in North Sumatra. The players in that moment of history paint an intricate portrait of the methods and madness of those grim few years.h
Have to admit, this was a dark moment in history I knew nothing about – and so the ensuing story was quite captivating. But maybe I’m not the best guy to quiz on political moments, up until a week ago I thought Bob Hawke was still the Prime Minister.
There is an unforgettable eeriness to the whole film. Almost all of the personalities interviewed are convinced they were doing something for the greater good, and Anwar goes through a demonstration of how he came up with a bloodless execution method with the same procedural good natured flair as if he was instructing the viewers on the maintenance of leaky bathroom faucets. Everybody involved seem like such nice guys, and if you saw the scene where they are hanging out at a local pub singing and downing beers, and if you had no idea of their prior history, you would happily invite them to your next barbecue.
The film is spliced with scenes of the various personalities…reenacting their deeds in the style of classic Hollywood films. It’s a premise bizarre as it is intriguing, and the film whole heartedly deserved it’s Oscar nomination.
To be perfectly honest, I watched the Director’s Cut and found it a little too long. Stick with the theatrical release which is 37 minutes shorter.
The Final Word:
If you’re the type to watch documentaries, then highly recommended. But you’re not, are you. So fuck off away with you then, go watch a Big Bang Theory repeat you troll.
What’s It About:
Brad Pitt is such a stunning bastard that the Angels themselves must have chiselled him out of sexy playdough. In this film he is married to a decidedly plain looking woman, and the inequality of their differing levels of attractiveness causes a catastrophic chain of events that results in a zombie apocalypse. I am an awful person.
I’ve seen my fair of Zombie films, and while World War Z brings some decent intensity to the table, it’s the international roaming Brad Pitt gets done in his search for a cure that really floats my boat. Seven locations across five countries, each destination getting skull fucked by zombies – this kind of tour would make James Bond flake out on a Qantas Club couch in pure exhaustion.
Decent cast on display here – to the point where Mathew Fox is in the film, and I swear I to god I did not see him. But he’s in it.
I’m not huge on CGI monsters, much preferring the practical route. I’m also pretty old school when it comes to Zombies, much preferring the slow shuffling classic trope to the modern reimagining where the undead become Olympic athletes on meth. There’s an interesting idea on display in WWZ, that the Zombies become a swarm of locusts as the virus spreads, but I found the whole CGI cluster fuck a little distracting and it kind of pulled me out of the film. I was half expecting Pitt to grab a plank of wood and start surfing the wave of Zombies, I mean that’s what Snake Plisken would have done.
Not bad, but history will no doubt forget this one. There are far greater Zombie films out there.
What’s It About:
Two middle aged men in the throes of redundancy win an internship at Google. This is a worksite that features slides instead of stairs, foosball tables, colourful bikes to ride, and “nap pods” for sleepy students. Personally, I’d rather slit my dick in half then work at a place like this – but what the fuck do I know? It’s the best place in America to work. Apparently.
Kinda amusing watching Vince Vaughn verbally spar with his stuffy instructor.
The sunny surroundings are nice, I guess. California I think? Can’t be fucked looking it up.
Will Ferrel has an amusing cameo, but most of the time when you chuck him into a shitty film like this to boost the laughs, you wish the main characters would fuck off so we could stick with Ferrel.
I chucked this DVD on one lazy Sunday, and settled in for what I thought was going to be a pretty lacklustre experience. Before the film really hits it’s stride, An instructor turns to all of the new Google interns during his induction speech and refers to them as “Newgles“. I let out a deep sigh, hit pause, and turned my gaze to the lounge room window and the sunny day outside. Did I really want to spend the next 90 minutes with a movie that uses words like Newgle? I thought fuck it, I’d come this far so hit play again. The instructor tells the crowd they will be judged on many qualities, but most of all their “Googliness“.
I hit stop on the remote, got out of my chair, grabbed my phone and rang the suicide hotline. I spoke to a nice young guy named “Rick” who explained that it was only a film, and I was welcome to call back in an hour and a half if became all too much for me.
I finished watching the film, and while it did not end my life – it certainly left me with a sense of crippling regret for those ninety minutes I lost. I took it back to Blockbuster, and snapped the DVD in half (case and all) in front of the young girl behind the counter. She was so pleased with the act, she gave me a free DVD out of the bargain box. (Which subsequently was the film The Watch, which I also took back and snapped in front of her).
Here’s the thing about The Internship. It’s not crap, it’s lazy. It’s sole purpose is to serve up a quick and easy payday for those involved, and entertainment doesn’t even seem to be on anybody’s agenda.
Let’s start with the supporting characters – the black sheep students that end up with Vaughn and Wilson – they start as fuck ups, and all of their character flaws are fixed Breakfast Club style by the end of the film. For absolutely no discernible reason. The Asian kid cums in his pants three times at a strip club for some gross out laughs. That’s enough about the supporting characters, fuck em.
The first and most obvious sin regarding the main characters is that of “breaking character for cheap laughs“. Why would two professional salesman in their early forties be so completely fucking clueless about computers and the internet? When Vince Vaughn initially loses his job at the start of the film, he goes home and surfs the net for jobs on his home PC. See what I mean? SURFS THE NET ON HIS OWN PC – why would he rock up to the Google headquarters so completely computer illiterate?
There’s a “joke” where Owen and Vince are sent to another campus to search for “Professor Xavier”, and off the two fuckwits trundle unfamiliar with the X-Men reference – but here’s the thing, they both use films constantly to make their points throughout the Internship’s running time. Flashdance. The Hunger Games. Fuck Me – how can you reference all four Terminator films, and yet remain oblivious to the existence of the fucking X-Men? I hate you Internship. But onto the far more felonious sin…
Remember the “fish out of water” fun of old guys in a youthful environment from Old School? Remember the cheeky camaraderie Wilson and Vaughn had in Wedding Crashers? Do you recall Vaughn’s ability to smarmily talk his way out of any situation (think Vaughn films early last decade). The creators of this film want you to remember all that, without forging any quality new stuff. This makes the film guilty of the annoying crime of nostaljizz.
Owen Wilson spends a large portion of the film breaking down Rose Byrne’s stuffy defences with his “cheeky charm”. It’s the worst romantic subplot I’ve seen in a long time. And I don’t know if it’s Wilson’s whisper speak, California drawl, or his fucked up rat bitten nose – but something about the guy makes me want to murder him. I honestly want him dead.
Vaughn’s rapid fire “wit” has also run it’s course. I got bailed up by a workmate at an office party once, not sure if they were drunk or fucked on cocaine – but they would not shut up. It was so annoying I faked epilepsy to get out of the conversation, and yet it still wasn’t as irritating as Vaughn’s performance in the internship.
Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn play a couple of womanising CIA agents with the ultimate pick-up game plan: they volunteer for the toughest gigs, and the impressed ladies all but fall into bed with them. But they may have bitten off more than they can chew with their latest assignment: infiltrating the Islamic State. This Summer, get ready to have your block knocked off with laughs…
The Final Word:
One out of five Dead Squirrels.