Wknd Box Office: “Brokeback Mountain 2.0″ a/k/a Dallas Buyers Club, Best Man Holiday

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Here is an interesting article from http://www.debbieschlussel.com/ reviewing some of the movies that came out over the past weekend. This follows this post about some of the movies from last week and THIS POST about some movies that have been released over the past few years that you might have missed! This all follows this post about guidelines to choosing good movies to watch yourself!   Wknd Box Office: “Brokeback Mountain 2.0″ a/k/a Dallas Buyers Club, Best Man Holiday

By Debbie Schlussel



**** CORRECTION: As many readers, including a very astute friend, noted, I got the name of the singer of “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” wrong. It was, in fact, as you’ve pointed out, Nat King Cole, NOT Bing Crosby as I had noted (the soundtrack for the movie doesn’t include the song, so I couldn’t fact check it that way). It’s been corrected, and I apologize for the error. ****



Yet another weekend with nothing to recommend among the new offerings at movie theaters.



* “Dallas Buyers Club“: Matthew McConaughey is a great actor. And I’m told by some Hollywood conservatives that he is even a Republican with conservative leanings. But I doubt it. Nobody with even a modicum of traditional American views would appear in this leftist wet dream of a movie. At once, it’s an attack on big business, “Big Pharma,” Texas cowboys, and middle America. On top of that, this highly overrated, excessively hyped propaganda movie is long, slow, and boring. And it’s the natural progression of a previous cinematic hit of its kind, which is why I dub this movie, “Brokeback Mountain 2.0″



“Based on a true story,” McConaughey is Ron Woodroof, a Texas cowboy, complete with boots, a Stetson hat, and a deep Southern accent. It is 1985, and he is an electrician, working mostly near oil wells and rigs, and he’s also a rodeo bull rider. You can’t get more Texas-y than that. Oh, and he also hates Blacks (he and his friends call them by the N-word), Muslims (he and his friends call them the Sand-N-word), and gays (he calls ‘em “queers” and is disgusted by Rock Hudson, who had at the time come down with AIDS). In short, he’s the perfect caricature of how leftists see the Republican voter and every last soul in flyover country between Los Angeles and New York.



But Woodroof, who is an extremely nasty, sordid, ugly, and unlikable character (at least, in this movie), is forced to become newly accepting of all the gays, including transvestites, and fight the pharmaceutical industry, after he learns he has AIDS. And this, predictably, makes him a better, nicer person.



He has AIDS because he’s had a ton of unprotected sex with various slutty women, including inside the bullpen at the rodeo. And he’s been told to get his affairs in order, as the doctor tells him he has 30 days to live. After paying off hospital workers to get on the then-experimental AZT drug, his health quickly degenerates, and he nearly dies. He learns from an expat American doctor, who lost his license and now works in Mexico, that AZT will kill him and that he needs to go on an alternative blend of vitamins, minerals, and other homeopathic concoctions.



Soon, Woodroof has set up his own club for those with AIDS–the “Dallas Buyers Club.” For an annual membership of several hundred dollars, the buyer can obtain the alternative medicine treatment. His partner is a transvestite (Jared Leto), who looks more feminine and far less transvestitish than that female impersonator, Savannah Guthrie, who hosts NBC’s “Today Show.” But the doctors and Big Pharma want to shut him down. And McConaughey spends the rest of the movie fighting them in court and seeking new avenues to obtain the “meds” (including from Japan). Jennifer Garner plays a mopey, very concerned doctor who befriends Woodroof, and adds nothing to the mix, other than a chick co-star role.



I’m all for the free market and the freedom to kill yourself with alternative medicine, so I mildly liked the fact that the character in this movie fights big government and Big Brother. But that’s really not the main point of this movie. It’s that the capitalist, big pharmaceutical companies (whose AIDS cocktails today have made the virus virtually non-fatal) and doctors are the ones killing da gays. That– along with, “see, you intolerant right wingers are gonna be forced to make nice with the trannies!”–are this movie’s main messages. And I’m just not interested in fiction that ridiculous.



Yup, it’s not very interesting. Not very exciting. Not very happy. Just a depressing annoyance unfortunately occupying far too many movie screens in America. And not something you should spend a penny or a second on.



The rule continues to ring true: if the mainstream media movie critics love it, chances are, you’ll hate it. That’s the case here. Or, at least, it was with me.



FOUR MARXES PLUS THREE OBAMAS PLUS TWO BIN LADENS



* “The Best Man Holiday“: Shoulda been called, “Yet Another Dopey Black Minstrel Show Served Up By Spike Lee’s Cousin.” If I were Black, I’d be offended at the choices that Hollywood–and Black Hollywood–give me. There are basically only two kinds of movies aimed at Black audiences: dopey comedies that remind me of “The Love Boat” or “Three’s Company” on steroids, or slavery/racism movies. Is that all there is? Sadly, yes. And this one goes in the latter category. It’s a stupid, predictable, unnecessarily melodramatic, racist minstrel show. And it’s brought to you courtesy of Malcolm D. Lee, Jew-hatin’, racist Spike’s cousin. It’s also chock full of Black women fighting each other and talking trash. Oh,and Black men fighting each other and talking trash.



The movie is a sequel to 1999′s “The Best Man,” which I (thankfully) did not see. Not sure why a sequel needed to be made, especially if the first one was as bad as this one is. Apparently, in the first one, a football player (Morris Chestnut) is marrying a woman, but his best man (Taye Diggs) sleeps with her just before the wedding, and now they hate each other. They and the other cast of characters from the first movie re-unite 15 years later (yes, I know the movie is only 14 years after the first, but don’t ask me to explain Hollywood math–they supported Obama, remember?).



It’s Christmastime, and Morris Chestnut is now an NFL football player, living in a giant mansion. He and his wife invite all of their college friends to the house for the holidays, where fights and stupid attempts at comedy ensue. Almost every man in this movie (except the token White guy) cries. In fact, the men cry more than the women. I was more than a little annoyed that “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” is the background song while the characters in the movie are all having sex. I think Nat King Cole just turned over in his grave, especially since it’s his rendition that’s played. Did his estate and descendants really need the royalties that badly? Apparently.



The movie has such scintillating dialogue as the arguments over which of the women is best at “rocking the mic,” a disgusting sexual reference. I’ll never look at a microphone the same way again. Thanks, Spike Lee’s cousin.



Here are some of the other “fabulous” lines in the movie:



* “I know my way around a vagina.”



* To the White boyfriend (Eddie Cibrian) of one of the women, “Do you have a Django Candyland fantasy, or this is the first time you’ve gone to the exotic jungle?”



* One of the other women referring to the White boyfriend, “If I had my way, that’s what I’d get: a tall vanilla swag of latte.”



* “Hell, I don’t know why White people pay me to tell them what Black people like. I’m light skinned.”



* “You hardly hear of Brothers with low sperm count issues, especially with baby mamas and baby mama drama.”



There was one good, funny line in the movie–when Terrence Howard says, “If they can get the word, ‘homo,’ banned, we can get the word, ‘N—er,’ banned,” and then immediately turns to a friend and greets him with, “Hey, my N—er!” (Also funny: when the Black guys call the White boyfriend, “Robin Thicke.”) But it wasn’t worth sitting through this painful disaster for that. Not even close.



There was only one bright point in the movie: the stressing of faith in G-d and Christianity, which is embodied by the only decent, likable couple in the movie (the football player and his wife). But despite that, they utter a ton of F-words, along with the rest of the cast.



It’s always amazing to me that Black America gets exercised over perceived racism by White America, but, yet, has no problem whatsoever in rushing to the theaters to pay ten bucks-plus for these self-hating kinds of displays.



ONE MARX PLUS FOUR OBAMAS

Wknd Box Office: Sparkle, ParaNorman, Expendables 2, The Odd Life of Timothy Green

Here is an interesting article from http://www.debbieschlussel.com/ reviewing some of the movies that came out over the past weekend. This follows this post some of the movies from last weekand THIS POST about some movies that have been released over the past few years that you might have missed! This all follows this post about guidelines to chosing good movies to watch yourself!




Wknd Box Office: Sparkle, ParaNorman, Expendables 2, The Odd Life of Timothy Green

By Debbie Schlussel



It’s August, where movie studios send their non-straight-to-video duds to die a quick death in the movie pet cemetery. And true to that I didn’t really like any of the new movies out in theaters, this weekend.




* “Sparkle“: Even though I didn’t care for this that much, it’s the best of the new movies out today. The movie studio invited me to the Detroit premiere of this to meet and interview star Jordin Sparks (and Urethra, er . . . Aretha Franklin, who isn’t even in the movie). But I took a pass because I just didn’t care. What was I gonna ask her? The movie was filmed in Detroit and funded in part by the Michigan Film Tax Credit subsidy boondoggle, and it’s a less interesting rip-off of the far superior “Dream Girls” (which I did like–read my review). The best thing I can say about this movie is that the clothes, sets, and other period details are fabulous and beautiful. It’s so high-styled. And yet the script is just dull. And some period things I think the movie gets wrong. An Albino Black guy is shown in a tuxedo at a nightclub with cornrows. Did Blacks wear cornrows like that in the early ’60s, circa “Mad Men” to a fancy club like that? I doubt it. One character is shown trying to give CPR to her dead lover. Did they teach kids CPR in those days? I don’t think so. But I could be wrong. The movie has been repeatedly hyped with the claim, “It was going to be Whitney Houston’s comeback vehicle.” But I don’t see it. Houston looks heavy and haggard and has very few line and scenes. And her voice is hoarse throughout. If anyone shines in the movie, it’s Sparks, who does what she can with a milquetoast script and a faint plot. The movie is a remake of the 1976 film of the same name, starring then then-unknown Irene Cara.



The story: three Detroit sisters–two by one man and the other by another–are the daughters of a reformed drunk played by “Houston. They don’t know who their dads are, but they are all beautiful and can sing. Soon all three of them are in a singing group with an eager, hungry guy as their manager. But they must sneak out at night to perform because their mother, Houston, is one of those too-strict religious Christian archetypes Hollywood always imposes on us. All three of them conflict with their mother, but the prettiest one, “Sister,” leaves to marry a successful Black comedian who makes his money with racist jokes against Blacks that he performs on TV to White audiences. Sister is abused by the man and uses drugs, and everything becomes a mess.


This movie was slow and boring, but the visually-stimulating costumes, make-up, hair, and set design kept my attention. Also catching my attention, the race-baiting line Sparks’ character says to her sister, “Sister”: “You’ve been busting your butt kissin the asses of White people for the last two weeks, and all you made was $96.” In real life, Sparks’ mother is White, and for the time, $96 for working at a clothing store for two weeks was typical wages, whether or not you waited on the “evil” White folk.



There’s not much that’s offensive here, and there are a scant few funny moments, such as when a boyfriend gives one of the girls a box with a ring, but the ring inside is a cut out picture from a magazine. The singing is okay, but there are no spectacular hits or catchy tunes like you heard on the “Dreamgirls” soundtrack.



ONE REAGAN



* “ParaNorman“: I’m more and more disturbed by the ever-quickening downward slide of movies for kids. This movie aimed at young kids is far too scary and creepy for them. And, at the very end, it also pushes homosexuality. Although the 3-D animation is absolutely terrific, the story isn’t. The plot is confusing, silly, and involves a take on the Salem Witch Trials, which young kids won’t understand and shouldn’t know about. I found the movie slow and boring. even though it does have its laugh-worthy moments. The movie is made by the same people who brought us the far superior “Coraline” (read my review) (which is also not for young kids). There are some cool things in this movie, but they are vastly drowned in the crap, creepiness, and all-around weak storyline centering around something that’s far more appropriate for adults.



Norman is a small town New England kid in school who is mocked, ostracized, and shunned as weird because he can see the ghosts of dead people and talk to them, and no one believes him. But, soon, his talent comes in handy when the town comes under the 300-year-old spell of an executed teen girl witch (who was put on trial) once again floods the town with ghosts, zombies, darkness, and possible destruction. At the end of the movie, when all is resolved, when a teen girl hits on the teen jock guy she’s attracted to, he responds, “My boyfriend is a chick flick fanatic.” Do we really need to pimp this stuff on young kids in a movie? It figures that this move was also done in a very cowardly way–at the very end of the movie.



TWO MARXES


* “The Expendables 2“: This wasn’t screened for critics. I shouldn’t have taken the hint. But, instead, I went to last night’s Midnight show, so I could review it for you. And it was utterly unwatchable. Absolutely awful. A bunch of geezer former action stars doing things that just aren’t believable, and you just don’t care because you hardly know what is going on. I didn’t like the first “The Expendables” (read my review), but this makes that look like a masterpiece.



At the beginning, Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Dolph Lundgren and some other people storm into a Nepalese prison to free a multi-milloinaire and the loathsome (and very haggard and old-looking) Arnold Schwarzenegger. Then, they are told by Bruce Willis that unless they get some sort of box for him, he will send them to jail. So they take an Asian chick with them to get the box, but then the murderous Jean-Claude Van Damme kills one of their men–a young soldier (Liam Hemsworth), and they want revenge. So they go to Russia to keep him from getting Russian nukes to sell on the open market. Believe me, I’m making it sound better than it is. Far better. So much action, so boring and stupid. And the addition of Chuck Norris doesn’t make it any better.



Don’t expend your time or money on this.



TWO MARXES

* “The Odd Life of Timothy Green“: This is possibly the most cloying, manipulative, maudlin movie I’ve seen in a while. The annoying Jennifer Garner and the usually likeable Joel Edgerton play small town parents who cannot conceive. They are at an adoption agency telling their long, silly story. The night they finally give up on trying to conceive, they decide to pretend for just one more night that they will have a kid. They put all of his qualities on pieces of paper and then into a box, which they bury in their garden. Then it rains, and a boy grows out of the garden. He has leave on his legs, which they hide. They decide to raise him as their own, but he is only temporary. This is another one of those movies without much of a plot. It’s also long, slow, and boring. You’re supposed to say, “aaawww,” at the end. I just said, “oy,” as in “oy, why did I waste two hours of life on this?”



ONE MARX