Don't know what he's looking at...it's not the beach.
Last night, I watched one of the more depressing movies I’ve ever seen. It was about this old guy who tells a story to a female resident of this nursing home. He tells the story of a couple who had fallen in love, and there were some plot twists and things, and at the end…YOU REALIZE THAT THE MAN AND THE WOMAN WERE THE PEOPLE IN THE STORY BUT THEY JUST HAD ALZHEIMER’S. Then they die, and there are swans flying as the credits roll. The tears were just flying out of my eyes, it was terrible.
So anyways, I didn’t actually watch The Notebook, but my writing skills are just so good, that I totally had you going, didn’t I? Hah! The movie I actually watched last night was On the Beach, a 1959 film about the end of the civilized world. It was directed by Stanley Kramer and starred Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, Anthony Perkins, and Fred Astaire. Being born in good ol’ 1985, I have no idea who any of those people are, but apparently they’re some big movie stars?
I don't get it.
Today, I finally decided to write the next column that I have been putting off for a few weeks. Why? Well, diary, it’s because when you write the same format for every movie all the time, sometimes you get bored. Formulaic, if you will. So, you have to spend a few weeks fighting crime in Thailand or meditating in Australia to get your creativity back. Then, you sometimes have to get your passport and identification stolen, get accused of being an international crime lord, and finally have one or two of the cocaine balloons you’re currently smuggling inside your body burst and have to go through a crazy intense detox.
Whew, diary, that was refreshing. Somewhat cathartic, too. Continue reading
Thanks to all your love and support, my stalker has been put behind bars. In an elaborate sting operation that involved me dressing as Dorothy from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and prancing around with a stuffed dog singing “Bad Romance” by Lady GaGa (yeah I didn’t understand that part either), the perpetrator was captured when he mistakenly fell into a hole covered in leaves. Score one for the good guys. Although, I guess they should change the title of the website to “One Film Geek.”
This week(end?) the movie on the chopping block is 1979’s Mad Max. A staple of dystopian and post apocalyptic cinema, this movie hails from Australia and clocks in at ninety-five (95) minutes. Although, really, since time and space are connected, we could measure this film in meters, light-minutes, or even parsecs. Continue reading
Too Small, No Caption
So, last week, when I was leaving the FilmGeeks Offices – I could have sworn there was someone following me through the parking lot. He/She was like 5’6” and kept making weird dinosaur noises. That Jurassic Park article really put me on the map, and I think I may have a stalker. If any of you are stalking me – please leave a comment at the bottom. And I have pepper spray in my purse.
So, now that I’ve got that nonsense off my chest, I can tell you what I slaved over for the last few weeks. Lost City, a (let me see if I’ve got this right) “Science Fiction adventure serial told in 12 amazing parts” from 1935 is my next gargantuan project on the chopping block. And, man, this sucker looks like it’s going to take a few swings. I also want to get in a little disclaimer: When I first heard the synopsis, I thought “Cool! A lost city!” What do I get? The “city” is just like four hallways and a supply closet. Go figure. Continue reading
God, even the poster for this turns me off
Woohoo I’m kind of back on a roll with the updates. It was touch and go there for a while, but I think I’ve overcome my aversion to entertaining you and after weeks and weeks of therapy, I can go back to being funny on command for you. Unfortunately, the movie I have to present to you today (tonight? Who knows anymore) is neither entertaining, nor enjoyable. I’ll do my best with the source material, but I’m pretty sure most of you will stop reading after this paragraph.
K-PAX, a 120 minute affront against the science fiction genre released in 2001, is a film about a man (Kevin Spacey) who goes by the name of Prot who believes that he’s an alien. You know, from SPACE. Jeff “Starman” Bridges, who is not an alien in this film, plays a psychiatrist or psychologist or something who has to deal with Prot and his incredible influence over the other inmates mental health patients. Naturally, because of his advanced worldview, Prot is able to cure most of the other patients with his positive attitude and his dedication to an alien way of life. Continue reading
Let me set the scene for you. It’s 1993. I (your humble writer) am eight years old. Up to this point in my life, there has been nothing but monster trucks and dinosaurs. Every book I own is somehow related to dinosaurs. Posters, toys, t-shirts – I’ve got it all. And I think I’m set for life. Yeah, I wanna be a paleontologist. I’ve got a plan that takes me all the way through my life, working with these amazing creatures.
Then I see a little movie called Jurassic Park and my life changes forever. Paleontologists…they spend all their time in the desert, searching and digging and basically doing the most boring job on the planet (disclaimer: this is not the most boring job on the planet). They speculate as to what these creatures might have done, all from looking at the remains. Naturally, my eight-year-old self realized that this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my life. Jurassic Park showed me that I could write obnoxious film review columns on movies with dinosaurs in them. Continue reading
The original title for this column was “In Which I Apologize for Publishing this Column Three Weeks After It Was Supposed to Go Live,” but I figured if I start apologizing now, it could start a dangerous trend in which you gradually come to expect more and more from me until the pressure makes my head explode. In fact, I’m going to go on record and say that me not updating for almost three weeks was a purposeful act of defiance to keep you (the readers and my faithful mildly apathetic followers) in line and on your toes. Yes. An exercise of my own considerable power, if you will. Turning your expectations to dust. I spent the last three weeks (is it four weeks now?) laughing at your misfortune.
Please don’t quit reading now, my ego still needs to be fed. Continue reading
New tradition: after every ten articles, I get a week off. No arguments from the little people. Or my superiors. You can have my badge and my gun if you want, but I need some Fil time. Interesting little tidbit too – this is the first in a two-part series on sci-fi movies that have to do with shrinking. Excited? No? Fine, you can just get the hell out. I don’t need riffraff like you reading my column. I’m famous, dammit.
This week (possibly even last week) I watched Honey, I Shrunk the Kids…93 minutes and released in 1989. For the record, my editor was five months old when this was released. I was 4. So anyways, the movie comes from Disney, which decided that it wanted a movie about shrinkage (haha). Originally they bought the script which was called Teenie Weenies, which execs rightfully thought might sound too kidsy – so they changed it to The Big Backyard, which was a little better, but not by much. Eventually someone decided that was lame too and the movie was renamed again. I’d also like to say that Teenie Weenies as a title might have brought in business from people mistaking the title for something else. Continue reading
This week, we have dinosaurs
I’m in the double X’s now. I’m cracking open a Mexican brew as we speak to celebrate. Do you want me to make a “Most Interesting Man in the World” joke? I find myself unmoved by such an obvious and datable pop culture reference. And beer doesn’t have anything to do with this week’s movie. Oh god, where did I go so horribly wrong? The lack of effort put forth in making this article a reality is over(under?)whelming. I don’t even seem to care anymore. What does XX stand for, like 2,000 right? God, I’ve been doing this forever.
In case you hadn’t figured it out, this week’s movie is the black and white film Gojira. Or for you English speakers out there – Godzilla. I watched this movie with subtitles rather than with dubbing because I didn’t want to force myself to reference the terrible and clichéd dubbing that happens with kaiju films. That’s not to say that the subbing was the most amazing translation either, there were some problems there, as well. But whatever, the bottom line is I watched the film as it originally came out in 1958 – while surfing Facebook and texting all my friends fly honeys. Continue reading
For those of you who are wondering, yes, I had to ask someone yahoo answers how to make the nineteen in Roman numerals. What a stupid numbering system. You’d probably have to do the same. And if you don’t, then you should probably write a novel. You’re too smart to be reading this column.
You should all really thank me – my original plan was to review Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, but I decided that it would be better to leave that to another time. Or, it could possibly be that I didn’t mail my last Netflix movie back in time to receive it. It’s kind of like a Schrodinger equation – there’s a fifty/fifty chance of either happening, but right now, they are both happening at the same time.
Good lord am I tired. The FREEview this week (clever, I know) is on the 85 minute long 1986 film From Beyond. All my coolest fans will recognize this as an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s short story of the same name. If any of you actually did recognize it – call me immediately, I need to marry you. Continue reading