ComplainerMan

You know how some movies are so bad at trying to play their genre that they turn into comedies? Case 39 is a special spin on that. You watch the movie, you reflect on it for a minute, then you start laughing your ass off. This movie was hilarious. You can thank Renee Zellweger for that. Jodelle Ferland is sort of the back-up dancer to Renee’s god-awful, though, since she provides the horror in the movie.

Fundamentals: Renee plays Emily something or other who is a social worker who deals with matters involving children, abusive parents, etc. She encounters the Sullivan family early on in the movie, establishing the bond between her and the “abused” child Lilith Sullivan. The parents wind up trying to kill Lilith, who then plucks Emily’s heartstrings until she petitions for custody. They spend a few days together- OH NO LILITH IS A DEMON oh ho, did I say that out loud? Yeah, it’s pretty obvious. Her transition into psychological predator is fast as can be, leading Emily to regret her decision of taking the evil girl in. But she petitioned for custody, so she’s got to keep her and deal with it.

Now, the thing that bothers/amuses me about this movie is how Emily responds to Lilith’s apparent demonic nature. She begins to behave exactly like the Sullivans did; she both ignores the girl and puts bolts and latches on her own door to keep the naughty lass out (which did nothing, as the viewer later discovers). To make things every more cookie-cutter, Emily starts regurgitating the “I’m not crazy, my adopted child is a demon with magic powers” line to her cop friend. Sadly enough, it works, and they team up against the evil that wears the face of “Lilith Sullivan.”

But not for long. He dies. So does everyone else Emily loves. With all that said and done, she is intimidated into obeying Lilith’s every wish. But since you can’t end a movie like that, Emily decides to drug Little Miss Murder with sleeping pills, despite the fact that her demonic powers extend to mind-reading. Uh, whoops? Then, instead of trying to stab her to death or smother her with a pillow, Emily burns her own house down with Lilith in it. Which doesn’t work. Apparently Lilith can teleport. UH, WHOOPS. So then as they’re driving to the police station, Emily decides to drive to the river, Lilith gives her one final psychological scare based off of her childhood trauma which she overcomes with ease (yawn), then… Wait, what? She drives her car into a river, which seems to actually kill Lilith. What the he- but wait, I thought Lilith could read minds? Couldn’t she teleport? What’s going on here? I’ll tell you what. Magic. Snort snort.

The movie ends with Emily surviving the crash. All of her friends, family, and other loved ones are dead, her house is burned down, and her car is on the bottom of a river because she’s stupid. Makes you feel like doing the jig and throwing confetti. Anyways, I recommend this movie to skeptics who like making fun of movies in hushed voices as they play, and to people who like writing sarcastic reviews.

This entire thing is me bashing the Spiderman trilogy, so if you really like Toby Maguire and Kirsten Dunst, then… go away. I have two- three- f- many main problems with these movies. Primary directive: making a very unrealistic comic as realistic as possible is not a good idea. Plot holes will (did) arise.

The first one was forgivable. A genetically modified spider escaped from its case and nobody noticed. That spider’s probably worth a whole lot of money. Following its escape, it lands on Peter Parker’s hand and bites him for no reason. No threat, no pressure. But hey, if that didn’t happen, there wouldn’t be Spiderman, so okay. Fine.

A little early for an interlude, but it seems like every time Peter is in some “deep quandary,” everyone around him starts vomiting up life-changing advice. It’s like he gives them their philosophical gag reflex after jamming his stupid problems down their throats. Is that a spider power? Who knew!

Moving on. I’ll note that the first Spiderman movie managed to hold the plot together well, and it was the corny acting that bothered me the most. When the second movie came around, things started to get bad. For example: Why did Otto Octavius need arms that had extremely advanced, self-aware A.I. if his only use for them was to push miniature solar flares back into place? And isn’t it kind of disappointing that they didn’t even do their job right? The freakin’ things were responsible for the death of his wife! Then they turned him into an evil psychopath! What?!

Second interlude. Peter Parker in this Spiderman trilogy reminds me of George W. Bush. An educated person, but completely mentally incompetent. No political commentary, just making a comparison. Think about it, though. He likes Mary Jane, but he keeps pushing her away because he’s afraid his enemies will find out about her and kill her. But wait, isn’t that what his “secret identity” gimmick is all about? Despite this, he dumps her again and again as if the prospect of actually dating her would be tantamount to stabbing her in the eye. When he does finally grow the balls to propose, he does it as her acting career is failing, and after he publicly made out with another woman (as Spiderman) using the specific upside-down kiss that Mary Jane associates with him. And then he freaks out when she says no! Spiderman… you’re dumb.

Okay, next plot hole. The third movie is the god-awful worst of the trilogy, harboring the two worst cases of Deus ex Durrrr that I’ve ever seen. So it turns out Sandman killed Peter Parker’s uncle, and as a result, Peter gets revenge-crazy and tries to kill Sandman. Later on, Sandman confesses that he did kill Ben Parker, but it was an accident. He only shot Ben because his buddy shouted at him. And you know what, he was only stealing the money to save his daughter, who is dying of some terrible disease. As a result, everyone forgives him completely, the sky turns blue, upbeat music plays, and a rainbow rockets out of my ass. Durrrr.

Final, ultimate count of plot hole shenanigans. Near the end of the third movie where Spiderman faces off against a king-size Sandman and a pissed off Venom, Harry Osborne is sitting home alone and not helping. Early on, a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time incident leads him to believe that Spiderman killed his father. Norman Osborne, the Green Goblin, tried to impale Spiderman from behind with his hovercraft. That would have actually impaled the both of them, judging from the force it hit Norman after Spiderman dodged out of the way thanks to his spider-sense. So basically, Harry’s dad killed himself, and Harry thinks Peter did it. In the second movie, he finds out that Peter is Spiderman, so there you go.

As I was saying, in the third movie, when Spiderman is getting a can of whoop-ass opened up all over his face, Harry is drinking alone. His butler comes in and says randomly, “Hey, by the way. I cleaned your dad’s wound, and it was his hovercraft that killed him. He definitely killed himself. Yup. I only tell you now because my magic plot powers say that I must. So yeah, go help Peter who you’ve hated for years because I haven’t said anything.” That’s, more or less, exactly what he said. Is that really the only way they could think of to get Harry to save Peter? Really? It’s like a giant middle finger to the audience! Gah, I’m done. That’s all I can take of these movies.

Oh, yeah. And why doesn’t the performance enhancing serum that made Norman turn into Green Goblin make Harry go insane as well? They both used it, yet it seems as though Harry is immune to going crazy. Wow. Hey, why not. Ponder that. Oh, and even if you do watch these terrible movies after reading this, you won’t be able to keep these little hiccups out of mind. Happy trails! Don’t watch them.

This movie is so many kinds of bad. It’s got cultural stereotypes, torture scenes, surgery, poop eating, death, cough fetishism cough, and a demented German doctor who specializes in separating Siamese twins to tie things all together. It’s obviously a movie dedicated entirely to shock value, but that makes it a piece of modern cinematic art, am I right? I know why you watched Hostel, and why you laughed during the opening sequence of Scream. You’re a weirdo. The good news is, so are a lot of people.

Let’s get down to brass tacks. The protagonists are two ditzy American girls vacationing in Europe. They say “oh my god” and “like” a lot, and they don’t speak any German whatsoever. We’re off to a fantastic start! The antagonist is the previously mentioned enigmatic German doctor, now retired, who happens to have large amounts of GHB on his hands. Add a little flat-tire to the mix, and what do you have? Oh my god, our car broke. Like, what do we do? Oh my god, there’s a house! Let’s get some help! Like, this doctor is creepy. Let’s call the car company and go. But I guess we can accept drinks from a strange, creepy man while we wait. Two glasses of water, please. Thud, thump. Never has there been an easier introductory sequence! Now for the real plot.

It’s all downhill from there. They did add in a lovely failed escape sequence where one of the girls manages to escape his basement “emergency room,” but a blind and deaf hermit who lives in a cave on the bottom of the sea could tell you how that ended. The hermit could be dead and he’d still know. But I digress. After the escapee is re-captured, they are introduced to a third, Japanese speaking captive who is apparently going to be the “front.” And so the surgery begins. Teeth are pulled, lips are removed, and anuses are removed in order to create the three-part butt-to-mouth abomination that our own beloved doctor has apparently dreamed of for years. The failed-to-escape girl winds up in the middle. That’s what she gets for not wanting to eat poop.

That is all the plot I will reveal, because I really don’t feel like describing anything past that. If you watch this and then Hostel, you ask me which one is worse and I won’t have an answer. And now, an outwards perspective on the other aspects of the film. I’ll leave you with a list of what The Human Centipede did right:

• The blood looks realistic. I didn’t expect that from… this sort of movie.
• The effects are well-done. Wouldn’t be as gross if they weren’t.
• As far as acting goes, they did well without situational reference.
• It takes true creativity to come up with something this grotesque.
• If you don’t want to watch it, you don’t have to. That is a good point.

Excuse me if I gush, but this is my favorite movie. With an all-star cast, Samuel L. Jackson, John Travolta, Uma Thurman, and Bruce freakin’ Willis, Pulp Fiction is undoubtedly Quentin Tarantino’s masterpiece. In his usual fashion, he introduces the plot as a linear, disconnected yet well-developed web of events. Each segment feels like its own micro-movie, yet has all the character development and content of a feature length film. The plot itself focuses primarily on the characters Butch Coolidge, played by Bruce Willis, and Jules Winnfield, played by Samuel L. Jackson. Funny enough, their paths only barely cross once throughout the course of the entire movie.

Butch is a boxer who makes a deal with the crimelord Marsellus Wallace: He purposely loses a match, he gets a lot of money. Unfortunately, things don’t go according to plan, and Butch is forced to deal with Marsellus Wallace’s “discontentment” with his actions. Discontentment in this case means hitman Vincent Vega, and ultimately Marsellus himself, who stumbles upon the fleeing Butch after going out to buy donuts. To reveal a bit without spoiling anything, the next segment includes abduction by a strange shopkeeper and his friend, a chainsaw, and a katana, none of which seem out of place in the movie. A real Tarantino blend of epic and unusual, if you will.

The trials of Jules are of a much more philosophical nature. Whenever Jules speaks, there’s always a greater sense of reason, despite his status as one of Marsellus Wallace’s thugs. One particular incident, in which both he and Vince nearly face death by a revolver the size of a cannon, causes him to start to see things differently. So differently, in fact, that his entire view on life is dramatically altered. Vincent doesn’t take too kindly to the change, as his character is one of compulsory skepticism, but to a man of faith like Jules Winnfield, such opinions matter little.


All in all, the movie provides an astute delve into the criminal underworld while presenting complex and likeable characters whose clashing personalities blend perfectly in the orderly chaotic tone of this wonderful piece of cinematic art. That’s definitely me gushing, but I guarantee that by the end of the first segment with Jules and Vince, you’ll be hooked until the end, whether you’re a Tarantino fan or not.

I’ll begin this review of Paranormal Activity 3 (and some of the two before it) by stating that during the course of the movie, I was not given any opportunity to eat any of my Sour Patch Kids or drink any of my Sprite. I also got a whopping great cramp in my arm from being so tense. I’m a hardened veteran when it comes to scary movies, and anyone who knows me even in the slightest can confirm that. I’m desensitized, what can I say? Despite that, Paranormal Activity 3 scared the holy hell out of me. It was a perfect ending to an amazing trilogy.

I’ve heard three major complaints about the movie so far, none of which have to do with the quality of the trilogy itself. One, why are there always cameras everywhere? Well, you see, we wouldn’t be able to watch the movie if they didn’t put cameras everywhere because they couldn’t think of a satisfactory reason. I mean, come on. It’s like telling The Shining to leave out all ghosts because they don’t make sense. Two, most of the stuff in the Paranormal Activities are taken from The Exorcist, Blaire Witch, and/or Poltergeist. Not a terribly astute observation, seeing as poltergeist shockumentaries often have to do with poltergeists and cameras. But if it satisfies you, it’s not even a ghost that assails the protagonists. It’s a demon. How fascinating! Enough of that, though. Let’s get on to the good stuff.

This is drastically important. If you’re skeptical of this movie before you watch it, don’t watch it. If you’re going in there with a he-man “nothing can scare me” attitude, why the hell are you even watching scary movies? To prove something? In order to fully appreciate this movie and immerse yourself in its plot, you need to want to be terrified. Outlook is everything here, and this actually applies to most movies. Also, consider viewing the first two movies prior to viewing the third. If you view only one movie of the Paranormal Activity trilogy, it will cease to be part of the trilogy and become “just another horror movie.” That’s no fun.

The first movie is meant to be vague, mysterious. It makes you ask, why are these people being haunted? What caused it? Is there even any reason? After it’s over, it will likely leave you feeling a little let down. The second movie fills that gap, along with cranking up the scare level. It provides loose answers to the questions previously asked, and will personally see to it that you jump at least ten times before the end. I won’t spoil anything, but it really starts to pull the two movies together, and even has the timelines of both converge, resulting the conclusion of the second. Quentin Tarantino style, am I right? No? Then watch the third. That’s what this is all about.

Paranormal Activity 3 takes you back before the first two movies, answering every single question that they might have roused. It also serves to scare the living crap out of you, because, if you’ve watched the first two, you understand just how the scare factor works in the trilogy. It gets you looking over every detail present, making sure nothing has moved, nothing has changed. If you let it, Paranormal Activity 3 will have you glued to your seat all throughout, making you jump a foot with every startle, making you sweat with every buildup. Even the false scares will illicit a little shout. So get some friends together, wait until midnight, turn off all the lights, and get ready to freak out, because Paranormal Activity 3 will take you on one hell of a trip.

What do you get when you mix two genres, 20 gimmicks from past movies and a semi-star-studded cast. Poop Soup! That really stinks. This movie started off well enough as a Western, or at least you could see potential in the first 1/2 hour. Then the seams started to show in Daniel Craig’s accent and performance. Unless he was trying to portray an anal retentive cowboy outlaw with no personality. The fitted clothing and a cowboy hat with a touch of Austrian mountain guide panache made the awkwardness complete.

Olivia Wilde didn’t screw up here role as the odd, bra-less female gunslinger/transient whose presence in each scene is an enigma, and who is actually an alien and gets nude. Harrison Ford started off playing a slightly different character than he does in every other movie he is in, but slipped back into “the Harrison Ford thing” by the end of the movie. Sam Rockwell simply couldn’t rise above the material.

What started off as a trite and slightly off-tempo western quickly became a lame science fiction flick that tried too hard. The CGI aliens were some of the most inexplicable creatures I’ve ever scene in a movie. These guys were large, muscular, reptilian monsters that could run like cheetahs and either run you through with their fingernails or bite you in the neck.  They could also run up walls. Rock faces… not so much. They had to walk around the path like a regular guy to get the people up on the rocks.  They were apparently not able to function too well in the light.  Such advanced space-faring creatures could have at least invented sunglasses. Once they got into the light though, they didn’t appear to need them. In fact I think the director forgot about the whole “not so good in the light” thing for those scenes.

The lamest part of the aliens were their chests. If they had a person down, and didn’t feel like biting their neck or running them through with their fingernails, their chest would open up and a pair of gooey hands would come out of their guts and fondle their victim’s face. Gross! If their prey wasn’t completely disgusted into a state a paralysis, however, the would-be victim could just stab their alien attacker in their exposed internal organs. One poke was enough to instantly kill the hastily-designed creature.

So after almost two hours of painful plot and dialog, Olivia Wilde’s character turns suicide bomber and destroys the mother ship. “Thank god!” I thought. This movie is finally over.

I’ve been using Godaddy as a Domain Name Registration provider for years. I can’t say I haven’t considered dumping them though. Here are some problems I have with them:

• They exploit the images of women for marketing purposes. There is nothing more unprofessional than going to their website to change your DNS and having an image of a beautiful woman gazing sensually at you (while your wife wonders why you are looking at porn while you should be working. It’s not porn, it’s only Danica Patrick!)
• Their website is highly user-hostile in an attempt to cross-sell you services.
• Their pricing just ain’t that good any more.
• They don’t have an 800 number. If  you ever have to call them for any reason, it’s a long-distance toll call.

Now they have added another tool in their arsenal of fail – scary phone messages. I received just such a message late last week. I had renewed a bunch of domains, I thought successfully. But then I received a message from Godaddy saying there might be a problem with my domain renewal. They gave me a number to call. I certainly don’t want any of my sites going down, so I immediately called them back. Long distance to Florida.

After jumping through a bunch of hoops to verify my identity, the support person asked “How can I help you?” Hadn’t I selected the choice that I was returning a call? ” You called me, “I replied.” “Oh yes. It looks like your recent renewal order did go through and we just wanted to thank you, and tell you about our domain club for bulk buyers like yourself.”

Well I guess I appreciated their thanks, but it was the first time I was ever tricked into making a long-distance phone call so I could be thanked. I knew about their lousy domain club already. So I bid the trickster a not-so-fond farewell and asked that he not call me again. Does anyone know of a good domain registrar. I’m in the market.

SPOILER ALERT

Our choice for movie night, based on a hasty trip to the library with a crowded DVD section was this: The Cave, Open Water and Three. Open Water looked to be the most promising. We’ll see how good that choice was if we have time to watch the other two. It certainly isn’t a shoe in.

The cinematography looks like they were going for a “Blair Witch” in the ocean, but didn’t quite pull it off. At first you just notice that it looks like shoddy equipment/camera work, but later you forget it as it blends in with the shoddy everything-else.

The acting and or directing is very uneven, making some scenes confusing. For instance, after some brief nudity and a sex scene false start, there is an abrupt transition to the male actor squatting on the bed (suddenly in underwear – thank god), holding on to something and keeping very still. The female actor wakes up and man dives at the wall, apparently trying to swat a bug. Halfway into the movie I thought back – oh yeah, maybe that was supposed to be funny. It was odd.

The uneven acting kicks in when the couple gets stranded in the middle of the ocean. Panicking, fighting, crying, being scared by sharks – the emotions don’t really build up in a dramatic way. They just end up in a kind of terror malaise. Finally, when the man dies from a shark bite, and the woman is swimming with the body, it’s not obvious by her acting that he is dead. She could just still be annoyed at his whining. When she pushes him away, and he goes into the dead man float, then you know. His body being jerked about as it is eaten by sharks is a nice touch.

In the end, I did get a satisfyingly creepy feeling that they both had died. As I watched I had assumed that at least one would be rescued. Being based on actual events you would think that at least some of the plot was real-life. I guess “two tourists left out in the ocean, probably got eaten by sharks” is as good a basis for a movie as any.

My tax season is getting off to a rocky start. My new copy of TurboTax 2010 Home and Business was taking a long time to install, so I decided to multitask and do some work on my income spreadsheet while I waited. About 10 minutes later my spreadsheet program prompted me to “Save” or “Cancel.” Before I could click “Save” my program was closed and my computer was shutting down.

Hey programming geniuses at Intuit! Don’t you normally give some kind of prompt before you reboot a person’s machine? Thinking back to the way TurboTax handled my amended tax return last year, I shouldn’t be surprised.