A summer blockbuster should be fun, full of action, and lacking all that thinking bit you get from Oscar baiting fall flicks. Iron Man 2, while not as great as its predecessor, fit this bill. It was fun, the action quotient was high, and I didn’t have to really think once. Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood is nothing like this. While well-made (I mean it’s Ridley Scott, after all), the movie falls flat, it’s WAY too long, and the action is disjointed.
Now, I’m not against a thinkier summer blockbuster—I mean, I absolutely adored The Dark Knight. But there definitely is a difference between, say a Braveheart versus an Iron Man. One is long as fuck, full of politics and sweeping cinematography, and made solely for the purpose of winning awards, while, the other is made for audiences to cheer with a fun superhero in a lighthearted and fun flick. Robin Hood just happens to fit into the latter category. It is clunky, slow, and kinda boring. Sure, fine it’s sorta epic. But whatever.
Read more about Russell Crowe’s not-so Merry Men and Lady Marian’s sour puss after the jump!
"Holy shit, y'all are STILL sitting on SXSW reviews?" Yes, fuck you; it's been a busy month. Anyhoo. One of the best films I saw during the film festival waaaay back in March was director Bernard Rose's Mr. Nice, the story of Howard Marks, a Welsh teacher turned drug dealer turned family man turned spy turned the biggest dope smuggler in the world. Since this was starring Rhys Ifans, typically a comical supporting actor, I was incredibly intrigued how the film would be. Turns out it would be entertaining as hell.
Summer 2010 has officially kicked off! I don't know about y'all, but I'm pretty excited. Anyhoo. With the first week of May comes our first big summer blockbuster, and it's pretty exciting to see Iron Man gracing our screens again. But, wait. Hold on, folks. While Iron Man 2 is a fun action flick, it doesn't quite measure up to the bar set by its predecessor, and even Robert Downey Jr. seems to be resting a wee bit on his laurels.
However, the flick is still a fun ride.
Read more to find out why Iron Man 2 is better than Transformers 2 but not The Dark Knight.
There are certain types of movies that you have to create a different rating system for. There are those genuinely GOOD movies, such as Inglourious Basterds or Fantastic Mr. Fox, those movies that are okay, the movies that are bad, and then there are movies like MacGruber: so fleeting and disposable but pretty watchable (see last week’s Clash of the Titans review). But the thing is, as pretty ho hum as the SNL spinoff is, it’s fairly funny, and (better yet) not as shitty as you think it should be.
Read more about inappropriate uses of celery and the C-word jokes after the jump!
“Release the Kraken!” If that sentence doesn’t send you into a fit of excitement, I don’t know what will—maybe Sam Worthington’s meaty thighs… Anyway; I digress. If you’re a fan of the original Clash of the Titans the “reimaging” will sure to please you. If you’ve never seen the 1981 version but are a fan of ruff ‘n’ tumble action flicks with tons of fires and CGI monsters, you will still be pleased. However, if none of this thrills you, stay far far away.
Read the full Clash of the Titans review after the jump!
The Runaways opens with a shot of what looks like red nail polish dripping onto the pavement and two blonde girls giggling as they run into a fast food bathroom. Cherie Currie’s sister declares her little sis a woman now (ewww, right?) and they proceed to whore themselves up with tight clothing and bright makeup before hopping into a dude’s car. Now, if the thought of first-time period blood doesn’t scare you off, you’re in luck. The rest of The Runaways tries to be just as provocative as its initial shot but can never recapture the same shock or surprise—unless you count the generous whooping of pervy middle-aged bros in the audience when a 15-year-old Dakota Fanning makes out with Kristen Stewart.
And, while the film doesn’t quite regain shock or surprise, The Runaways is actually a pretty decent film that goes way past grrrrl power. It’s ultimately the story of two chicks that wanted to become famous and grew up way too fast. And, okay were maybe exploited by some pervy dudes along the way.
Read more about Fanning in corsets after the jump!
Full disclaimer: this review of How to Train Your Dragon is about the boring, ol’ 2D version. The 3D screening was in the wee hours of the morning during South by Southwest, and I didn’t drag my drunken ass out of bed. I apologize. I was just as sad as you are.
That being said…How to Train Your Dragon is hopelessly adorable—like baby kittens turned into animated dragons adorable. I turned to Greg multiple times to let out a ‘tween girl squeal—that’s how cute this movie was. However, if you’re going sans little munchkin, you may be bored at some of the kiddie jokes. And if you are going with small kids, they may get restless as was indicated by all the questioning youngsters ruining my movie going experience at the screening. Needless to say, fun was had by almost all.
Normally I would try to be cute and witty with this opening sentence, but I’m not gonna pussyfoot around the subject at hand for this one: Valentine’s Day sucks. It sucks hard. It sucks so hard, I almost think Gary Marshall tried to make it suck so badly. Question: How do you make so many likable actors so terrible? Answer: Get them to star in Valentine’s Day.
Read why Valentine’s Day blows so much after the jump!
Now, don't get me wrong. I have a soft spot for rom-coms, as I explained in my The Proposal review. There's something really gratifying about already knowing how a movie is going to end but enjoying the process anyway. That's why it takes a lot for a rom-com to make me excited; because every fucking cliche and strained plot device has been done. So either the plot needs to make me go "hey....." in surprise every once and a while, or the two leads must be hella charming. When in Rome, starring every nerd boy's (and girl's) crush, Kristen Bell, did neither of those things.
What happens when a ritzy, small-time film director takes on a Hollywood blockbuster, especially when the main character is one of the most beloved of classical fiction? You get Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes, which is one part Ritchie’s normal, herky jerky filmmaking, one part studio pandering, and one part Robert Downey Jr., but minus all the character development.
Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes takes Sherlock Holmes and yanks him from his normal, stuffy fare and transplants him into a would-be action flick—I say would be because I’m not quite sure the film has as much action as the trailer would lead you to believe. Oh, sure there are explosions and fights, but it’s not quite as in-your-face as action-starved frat boys might be rooting for. That’s not to say that Sherlock Holmes isn’t fun, because it is, but it feels so disjointed, as if the studio said, “Hey, Ritchie, can you tone down some of your Ritchie-ness?” And then Ritchie proclaimed, “I will cram the most Ritchie-ness I can into each scene.”
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