"Quantum of Solace" -- Movie Review

Last Thursday, I saw the newest installment in the 007 anthology. There were cars, guns and girls, oh my! There were foot-chases on roof tops, hotels in the middle of the desert that exploded and time enough left over to take in an opera. But I'm getting ahead of my self -- first thing's first...

“Quantum of Solace” is not so much a sequel as it is an epilogue, a coda of sorts, while at the same time setting up plot points for future installments and hinting at the grander scheme of things.

The film starts off, as Bond films must, with an action scene. Right here is where the film's been taking a beating from other critics. Let me pause for just a moment to say my piece.

The director, Marc Forster ("Stranger Than Fiction," "Monster's Ball") is a brilliant director. Ask any of we Three Geeks about “Stranger Than Fiction” and you'll hear us say, in no uncertain terms, that it is one of the top, under-rated masterpieces of the past decade. That being said, the man cannot direct an action scene.

Sure, the action was riveting, but only because action scenes, by their very existence, are inherently riveting. I found myself asking “How did that happen?” or “Wait...did he just... what?” These queries arose because of the bane of my existence (not counting Ashton Kutcher): the shaky-cam. The shaky-cam diminishes the raw badassitude of action by replacing suspense and awe with confusion and annoyance.

So, where were we? Ah, yes: the beginning of the film. 007 (Daniel Craig) and M (Judi Dench) and a few nameless others (*cough* red shirts) are interrogating Mr. White, the gentlemen Bond shot in the leg at the closing of “Casino Royale.” They are attempting to find out who was behind Le Chiffre and, in doing so, stumble upon a secret and obscenely powerful organization bent on, well... the usual stuff: exploitation of natural resources, the simple-minded masses, the poor and pretty much anything else you can abuse for wicked profit. I believe this organization, known as Quantum, is poised to become the modern analog of SPECTRE, the evil organization previous 007s combated.

While interrogating Mr. White, one of the red shirt nobodies suddenly attacks Bond and M, White escapes and a hefty body count is left behind. And the double agent, as it turns out, was M's personal bodyguard. After a foot chase, Bond kills the traitor. The fact that Bond can not keep from killing his targets, instead of interrogating them like a proper agent, is sort of a running gag throughout the movie.

"Quantum of Solace" is mainly about Bond coming to terms with the death of Vesper Lynd, from the previous film, and avenging the attempt on M's life... though she'd never hear that from Bond. What's most fun about the new Bond is that he's complex. We're never quite sure where the rage is coming from.

Not to mention the new Bond seems to be of the old world thinking. There are good guys and there are bad guys. He can not fathom this new trend amongst his peers to do business with the bad guys simply because it is more profitable. He is at a loss at the “It's the cost of doing business.” philosophy.

On top of that there is a new Bond Girl, Camille (Olga Kurylenko), a feisty Russian who is on a vengeance quest of her own. She seeks the Dictator General who killed her family and burned her home, scarring her as a child. Here's where the movie is smart. Bond and Camille do not become lovers. We do start to see Bond the womanizer, but with Camille he finds more of a kindred spirit -- a fellow wounded soul -- and instead of bedding her, helps her. Probably because her target is doing business with his target, Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric), a sort of business man/eco-terrorist?

In reality, it doesn't matter. The far more interesting thing, other than the interplay with Camille, or even M, is the return of Mathis (Giancarlo Gianni), one of Bond's ex compatriots from “Casino Royale.” If you recall, Bond believed him to be in league with Le Chiffre and allowed him to be tortured for information by MI6. If Camille is a kindred spirit, I believe Bond sees Mathis as what he will become. They form a quite touching friendship, with glimpses of fascinating dimensions. There is a moment in the movie where Bond says goodbye to Mathis, and it is one of most touching moments in Bond history. It bears a slight resemblance to the shower scene in “Casino Royale,” where he holds Vesper in comforting embrace. It has that kind of resonance.

I haven't touched on the plot all that much simply because the plot, while good, is not the reason to see the movie. Well, not the real reason, anyway. Marc Forster may have failed at the action scenes, but more than makes up for it in the character interaction and development of Bond. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he has one of the best Bonds in the franchise to work with. Daniel Craig once again shows that, at the very least, he's the best-acted Bond on record.

Is it as good as “Casino Royale?” No. “Casino Royale” was, on the whole, a better film. Yet “Quantum of Solace” has the most compelling character relationships and developments of the series. See “Quantum of Solace” for the action, remember it for it's characters.



Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah

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Letter From The Editor

Return of content? Professionally-designed website? Robots that fight crime?

Let's not get ahead of ourselves...

ThreeGeek.com will, over the next couple months, be reborn into something that not only actually exists, but also includes new, improved and vastly expanded content.

But until the dawning of this glorious new day, we'll be reviewing things once again, starting off with Sherman's forthcoming review of "Quantum of Solace" and a few overly whiny essays from myself about Superman and/or Batman.

Kloiber might do something to? I dunno... we're learning these things together.

-Thad out

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Sherman's Annual October Movie Marathon

Well it's that time of year again: October. Time for the annual October Movie Marathon, where I attempt to watch, at the very least, 31 horror movies. This ranges from the outright terror of “The Exorcist” to the total schlock of “The Unnameable II.”

The important thing to remember about the October Movie Marathon is that we welcome all comers. I'll be watching anything and everything under the sun as long as it was made with the intent to scare, lock you in an uncomfortable level of suspense, shock you with gore or make just you squirm.

“Why?” you may ask? Because I love movies, goddamn it! I love them to the point where, when a genre is overly criticized, I want to come to it's defense... and horror movies have long been the bane of existence to critics and overtly zealous Christians. They have good reason, don't misread. There are a lot of severely bad and exploitative horror films out there -- but you can say that about any genre. Horror movies have the potential to be hauntingly beautiful, such as Guillermo Del Torro's "Devil's Backbone," or downright frightening, like "The Exorcist."

The problem with horror movies is the same basic problem with all movies, only more so: they are extremely subjective. What scares me is not the same thing that scares you, or vice versa. Sadly, another problem is the over-commercialization of the genre. Long gone are the days with interesting ideas, characters you genuinely feel for, monsters that are actually original, and the greatest loss of all -- the absence of subtext!

For the most part, the best horror movies are not about what you think they're about. Rather, there's an underlying film behind it. You can have a truly horrifying movie with strong social commentary, just look at "Candyman" or the original "Wicker Man." More than that most horror movies deal with the two things that scare us the most: death... and sex. Take the 1939 “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” or “Candyman,” “Hellraiser,” “Dracula” in any of incarnations -- the list seems endless. The genre has been so co-opted that the sex has been used as “sexy” as opposed to “uncomfortably sexy”, such as in sex scene from “Don't Look Now.” These sex scenes used to be a statement about our innate fear and uneasiness with the openness of the subject. Oh sure, we're advanced and far more open, but you cannot tell me the topic no longer taboo. Sure we can joke about it, but as for talking seriously about sex -- we're a long way from that. But that's one reason why I love horror movies, they use sex as a way to make you queasy as opposed to aroused; they actually pervert your perversions... awesome.

Then there are the slasher films -- these are hit and miss as well. Jason, Micheal, Freddy and a few other low budget rip-offs are dead, but there's still another string of rip-offs going strong. Why? Simple: it's what you could call our “Gladiator complex.” We enjoy watching pretty stupid people get, not just killed, but slaughtered. Does this make us bad people? No, not really. These people are so unreal it's not even funny. A five-year-old could write better characters. Yet, it's a way to work out our frustrations on our fellow man... to watch them be brutally beaten in a sleeping bag against a tree.

And let us not forget the truly great thing about horror movies: besides being wonderful social commentary about race, sex and socio-economic issues, they're also terrific indicators of the times in which they're made. Go back and watch horror movies from 20-30 years ago. You may not be scared by some of them -- they were made in a different era, with their own set of phobias, stresses, world policy issues and views on the opposite sex or, once again, sex in general. The original “Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” in comparison to today, is not really all that gory, partly due to it being so low budget, but also because Toby Hooper knew the audience was already over-saturated with images of violence from news footage of the Vietnam War. Society's mind was so conditioned to think violently that all Hooper would have to do would be to suggest the act and the audience's imagination would take them to a place he wouldn't even think of.

By and large, horror movies -- along with westerns -- are on the decline. Mainly because I believe filmmakers have forgotten the potential for imagery the genre holds: Frankenstein's monster in his cell, kneeling and reaching towards the light; the scene from “Creature From the Black Lagoon” where The Creature is swimming underneath Julie Adams and there's this moment of breathtaking empathy of the creature; any scene from “Nosferatu,” the original or Werner Herzog's remake; the same for Del Torro's “Devils Backbone” or Ingmar Bergman's “Hour of the Wolf”; Lee Remick falling off the railing in Richard Donner's “Omen" or, hell... Patrick Troughton becoming priest-ka-bob during a storm after trying to warn Gregory Peck. All this, and I haven't even touched Hitchcock yet.

In summation, this marathon is a classic one and is very dear to my heart. There will be the ones I watch every year: “Evil Dead”, “Sorority House Massacre II,” “Re-Animator” and others. Then there will be those I've never seen, such as “Saw,” “Hostel” and “John Carpenter's Vampires.” There will be some crapter-pieces, to be sure, but there should also be some gems to be unearthed. All in all, it should be interesting. Here's hoping that decapitations, topless sorority girls, monsters, characters we care about and awesome ideas will be abound.

Probably not so much on those last two, but hey... on the whole decapitation and topless sorority girls thing, rest assured it's a done deal.

Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah

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Help! We've been swallowed by the Internet!

A combination of relocation, schedule shifts and cosmic radiation storms have paralyzed the workings of the ThreeGeek Machine.

Things should even out in a few days, if you'll be kind enough to bare with us. October holds some interesting movie and game releases... and those guys at DC are still trying to kill Batman. Believe me, you'll be hearing about that.

That's right, now that my work schedule is deflating, you'll definitely be getting more yap from me -- suckers!

-Thad out

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"Burn After Reading" -- A ThreeGeek Review

Richard:
"It's what he does, he is a spy... but you can be a spy too."
It's what a divorce lawyer tells Katie Cox (Tilda Swinton) when she approaches him about her husband, and that just so happens to be the plot of the latest Coen Bros. film, "Burn After Reading," as well as the downfall of everyone in the film.

A CIA analyst
A doctor
An ex-Treasury agent
A children's author
3 personal trainers

These are the main players in the film.

Osborne Cox (John Malkovich), the analyst, just quit his job. Katie, the pediatrician, is married to Osborne but not really happy about it. Harry Pfarrar (George Clooney), the ex-Treasury agent, is married to children's author Sandy (Elizabeth Marvel), but is sleeping with Katie -- and whoever he can find -- on the side. Meanwhile, personal trainer Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand) thinks that she needs copious amounts of plastic surgery to find a man.

Osborne starts his memoirs, Katie makes a copy of his finances to take to the lawyer, and Linda puts an add out on an adult personal site. The copy of the finances ends up at the gym that Linda works at, Harry ends up meeting Linda online and hit things off and her co-worker Chad (Brad Pitt) uncovers "The Shit" inside the finances. "The Shit" is believed to be state secrets that Linda and Chad decide to blackmail Osborne with in order to to pay for her plastic surgery.

That's right, two gym junkies try to blackmail an ex-CIA operative for information they don't even understand.

From this point on, all hell breaks loose. Everyone starts fucking everyone -- in more ways than one -- and the CIA can only sit back and wonder just what the hell is going on.

I loved this film, but it does have its flaws. The dialog is brilliant, but a bit convoluted at times. The acting is brilliant, and the cinematography is brilliant. The Coen's do a fantastic job, but it's not their best work. (Still, a "bad" Coen brothers' film is usually one of the best movies of the year, so pay no mind to that. Not everything is "Lebowski.")

In typical Coen fashion the audience has no idea what's coming next. After a 20 minute long farce act, someone will be shot in the head, or after a heartfelt speech, Harry unveils his "contraption" to change the mood. It's like a big "What If?" comic, and that is the real brilliance.

See it; you will thank me.

4/5



Jeremiah:
The Coen Brothers latest opus is a foolish odyssey into the lives of fools behaving foolishly. Make sense? If not, then I would suggest passing on this and see something else, I hear “Step Brothers” is a fine film. For those of you who did understand that first sentence, and who know that the one after was a lie, then drive to your nearest multiplex for the closest thing to mindless fluff the Coens have come to.

I say “closest” because, while it is fluff, it is neither mindless nor without pathos. "Burn After Reading" is populated with stupid, greedy people who, of course, don't realize just how selfish they are. So busy is everyone at believing they're unfairly put upon, none of them realize just how good they have it. They're all so inept that their greed and obtuseness to the beauty in front of them is both sad and hilarious.

Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand) is PR lady at a fitness gym called Hardbodies. Her best friend and co-worker Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt) is a giant doofus: inept, but sincere. He cares about Linda as a friend and his only serious flaw is that he lacks any grasp of the potential gravity of the situation. The fool in a Greek tragic-comedy.

Osborne Cox (John Malkovich) is a CIA analyst who's just been demoted for being an alcoholic. He has, shall we say, anger issues. He believes he is trapped in a world of morons. His flaw is that he does not consider himself one of them, which he so clearly is -- just somwhat smarter. A brilliant moron. His wife, Katie (Tilda Swinton), does not take the news well. Osborne and Katie are having troubles in their marriage. In fact, Katie wants a divorce. She's been thinking about it for some time, while simultaneously having an affair with Harry (Geroge Clooney), an ex-Treasury Agent.

Osborne plans to write a memoir exposing the bureaucracy and hypocrisy of the CIA. Meanwhile, Katie, planning for the divorce, needs to know their financial status. In doing so, she accidentally copies information from said memoir and, through an ingenious incident of coincidence, the disk is be found by a janitor at Hardbodies. And Linda starts to date Harry -- who, if you recall, is sleeping with Katie.

As one CIA Agent says to his superior, played beautifully by J.K. Simmons (who has perfected the part of being funny behind an office desk), “It's a bit hazy. It seems they are all sleeping with each other.”

One of the pleasant surprises of “Burn After Reading” is that it's really a sexual satire embedded into a comedy of Espionage. What happens when self-serving, cynical people screw over other self-serving cynical people? They get screwed.

The film is not bereft of innocents, though. There's Chad, who genuinely does not understand what's going on, and there's Ted (Richard Jenkins), Linda's manger, who truly loves Linda for who she is -- even if Linda doesn't love herself that much. As is typical of the Coens, you don't see things coming and, even if you do, you don't foresee their inherent tragedy.

I said earlier that the film has pathos, and it does. The brothers do a wonderful job of letting us know that, while these people are selfish, they are not without redeeming qualities. Harry, it turns out, really does love his wife... even if he does repeatedly cheat on her. His true testament of love, her “gift” that he built himself, is one of the best laughs in the movie.

Even Linda is really a nice person, she has just listened too much to society and believes she needs to be perfect looking. One also senses the Coens poking fun at the Hollywood obession with youth in McDormand's line" “With this body, I would be laughed out of Hollywood.” To which her manager, Ted, replies, “I dunno, some men find your body sexy.”Linda's reply and Ted's hurt expression in his eyes are perfect examples of the pathos I'm talking about.

While it's pretty straight-forward and shallow in plot, the characters' emotions of longing and hope are deep, even if their thinking isn't. Joel and Ethan Coen, more than most directors today, have the ability to create an entire reality within their frame. More than a world, it's as if they exist in a parallel dimension, just slightly outside of our own. Even if their characters are caricatures, their worlds never are. I was moved almost as much I was laughing, which is fantastic -- but not surprising, considering it is the Coens, after all.

There is a line toward the end of the movie that I think sums things up pretty well. J.K. Simmons's character asks his underling, “What have we learned from this? Anything? If we have I don't know what it is.”

I'm perfectly okay with that.

/5

Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah



Thaddeus:
Somewhere between infidelity, espionage and good old-fashioned human stupidity, something magical lies -- or, if not, "Burn After Reading" sure makes it look that way. If you've followed the Coen Bros. film career, it should be obvious that they do misunderstandings like nobody's business, "The Big Lebowski" being the favorite example -- but if that's all you've seen, you're doing your entertainment-hungry brain a disservice. The Coens are like good movie machines.

If you've reached this part of the review stack, you have to know the plot by now: Some airheads (Frances McDormand and Brad Pitt) stumble across the memoirs of a disgruntled, ex-CIA agent (John Malkovich) and hatch a blackmail sceme. Lechery abound. Everybody involved thinks they know what's going on, while the people observing (such as J.K. Simmons as the nameless CIA Superior) look on in awe at the sheer absurdity of it all.

The bottom line is that it's a smart, stupid comedy -- or a stupid, smart comedy? Either way, its something special. If you're a fan of film noir conventions turned sideways, you'll have a blast. I certainly did.

Scenes were stolen more than the mcguffin in your average James Bond movie, as tends to happen when you put this many thoroughly entertaining actors on one strip of celuloid. Brad Pitt's lovably idiotic Chad was, well... he was the perfect doofus. The ultimate Zen Master of nitwits. George Clooney, on the other hand, played the man many women likely wish he was -- the guy who will, and does, sleep with anyone. And J.K. Simmons ties the whole film together with the best possible ending line.

I can't pick a favorite performance out of the bunch, and it's not just the ones above: Frances McDormand as the cheerful, image-obsessed non-mastermind; Richard Jenkins as her unrequitedly loving boss; John Malkovich as the drunk and cheerless ex-CIA number-cruncher; and Tilda Swinton as, well... an icy bitch. Helluva cast.

Full of hard-gear shifts between comedy and stark seriousness (and murder), "Burn After Reading" is the weird, satirical, black comedy/drama to see in theaters right now.

So do that.

4 out of 5

-Thad out.

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"Traitor" -- A Several-Geek Movie Review

Jeremiah:
I love Jeff Daniels. I'm saying that right off the bat. He has a way of making his characters seem natural, complex and, most importantly, sincere. I consider Mr. Daniels, along with the other Jeff (Bridges), Danny DeVito and Brian Dennehy as the most criminally underused big-name actors working today. And then there's Don Cheadle, who is everything I said above and more.

There are times in Jeffrey Nachmanoff's "Traitor" when Cheadle blows everyone off the screen with just a look that hints at his character's sense of longing and regret, while at the same time simply making sure he's not being followed. The Paul Giamatti syndrome if you will -- everyone is fantastic, but then you get this one guy in the group who makes everyone else look better, while at the same time totally out-acting them.

You're probably wondering about the movie right about now, as well as you should. It's great. Hell, I'd venture to say "Traitor" is a good bet for at least one Oscar nod -- it's just that good. Nachmanoff and his co-writer, Steve Martin -- yes, THE Steve Martin -- have not only managed to cobble together one of the best spy movies in general, but also presenting one of the best spy movies in the post 9/11 climate. All this while daring to craft the whole movie with no real bad guy; it's done from a humanistic angle. The main thesis you could say is "Not all terrorists are Muslims and not all Muslims are terrorists."

The plot concerns itself with Samir (Don Cheadle), a Sudanese Muslim who sells explosives to terrorists. Or does he? During one of his business transactions he meets Omar (Saïd Taghmaoui), a fellow Muslim. The meeting is raided and the two are arrested. Samir and Omar form an unlikey bond of friendship and Samir is recrutied into Omar's orginazation. Or does he? If you've seen a preview for this movie then you already know the answer. The movie's biggest surprise is that that's is not what the movie is about. It's what moves the movie along, but it's not the why.

Samir quotes the Qur'an several times throught the film, questioning the legitimacy of his new freind's methods, all the while asking himself: "Why?", "Why do people have to die for this?" and, if so, "How many?" I don't know the answer and frankly neither does the movie. "Traitor" is not interested in the answer; the answer is different for everyone. Sometimes the beauty comes just from the question being posed.

There are also two FBI agents who have a parallel story, bent on intertwining with Samir's: Agents Roy (Guy Pearce) and Max (Neal McDonough), whose mission it is to seek out and stop terrorism. Roy has a Phd in Arabic studies and goes for the less popular, but always more effective, route of knowing and understanding your enemy. Max is the muscle; a man who punches first asks questions later, only to wonder why Samir didn't kill Roy when he had the chance. Roy simply answers, "Probably because I didn't hit him."

Pearce and McDonough do fantastic jobs.

The five of you out there who watched "Boomtown" will be happy to see McDonough again doing a fantastic job as his partners foil. He has the thankless job of asking Roy questions so the audience can get the answers, and yet he does so gladly. For his part Guy Pearce does an amazing job of reminding us that he is, in fact, a badass. He plays Roy Clark with subtlety, yet there is a seething flamboyance threatening to erupt in a moments notice. You can see it in his eyes. His ability to convey this with how he sits and the looks he gives is on par with, well... everyone else in this movie.

Even Saïd Taghmaoui as Omar manages to almost convert you to Islam extremism, such is the magnetism of his charm. He's like an Arabic George Clooney. I kid, of course, but he does an amazing job of letting you inside the mind of a terrorist. It's the age old maxim, "The best villains are the hero in their own stories."

The dialogue, at times, succeeds wonderfully at being Mamet-esque. The story is solid and transforms into a lovely Shakespearean spiral toward the end. By that, I mean actions with the perceived hope of one outcome have a tragic and opposite outcome causing the characters great agony and propelling the plot to it's inevitably tragic conclusion.

Jeffrey Nachmanoff has not exactly set the film world on fire with his previous films, which include the likes of "The Day After Tomorrow," a movie unseen by me... and most other people as well. Yet with "Traitor" he shows that maybe all he needed was a chance. Or this could be the law of averages working into his favor; even Joel Schumacher made a couple of decent flicks. Either way, I anxiously await Nachmanoff's next project.

I fear this review has not done the movie justice and the fault is mine. Regardless, I urge you to see "Traitor." It's the smartest, slickest and the most human movie in theaters at this time.

/5

Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah



Thaddeus:
It's hard for me to say much at all about "Traitor" now that Sherman has the bases so thoroughly covered. Seriously... this will be criminally short.

The main thing I want to underline is the point about terrorism shown from the human angle. The terrorists are human beings with their own motivations coupled with a disturbingly unshakable certainty that their path is correct. In reality, like in a good story, everyone is the hero from their own point of view -- especially the villains. Assumption of right causes more problems than just about anything else in the world, and nowhere is that more apparent than here... at least in regards to entertainment.

Also, much like "The Departed," "Traitor" highlights the grim cost of undercover work. How far is too far when it comes to saving lives... especially when it starts to cost them?

Deep stuff. "Traitor" is definitely a film for all those who love to think long and hard about the dark, complicated world we all cling to.

4 out of 5

-Thad out

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"Whatever Happened to ThreeGeek Review?"

Those handful of you that still swing by from time to time must have noticed a marked decrease in output as of late. As Lord and Master Editor of this domain, any delay in the delivery of content is at least somewhat my fault (though the percentage tends to vary widely), so for my part I apologize.

But nuts to that; let's talk updates.

Sherman and I caught "Traitor" last weekend and soon we shall spread tales of its glory. I'd do it tonight, but I just gt off a 13 hour shift -- and you ain't the boss of me.

Plus, a Super Cohen Bros. movie lurks just past yonder horizon. If there are any other movies coming out this week, I couldn't care less*.

And preparing yourselves for an onslaught of superhero-related commentary in the near-future might not go amiss.

My hyper-overtime deathschedule is winding down, so prepare to see some life breathed into this shoddy shell of a website.

...

Just not, y'know... right now.

-Thad out


* It really frays my nerves when people say "I could care less" to mean "I don't care." If you could care less, that means you do care. Are we too lazy to even use contractions now. I swear, sometimes it's like I'm watching you people devolve yourselves right back to grunts and chest thumps.

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Sherman: UP All Night -- "Bad Girls From Mars"

In my last review I found that I had prophetically typed the words “... I've found my stinker to beat.” As the self-fulfiller of prophecies that I am, I decided my next movie was to be “Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory” -- "was" being the operative word, because the movie arrived broken, so I was forced to watch the other cinematic excrement that came via Netflix. It definitely had promise. The title alone gave off a repugnant stench of celluloid failure.

“Bad Girls From Mars” was the title and Fred Olen Ray was the man responsible -- the very same man who gave us “Star Slammer.” Suffice to say, my flesh crawled with anticipation. Oh, my friends... had I only heeded the warnings of my DVD player. Indeed, modern technology itself tried to save me from my hubris by refusing to play the movie by flashing a “Disc Error.”

Sadly, for you and me, the player eventually relented to its true master, which loosely translates into me wiping the disc on my shirt, blowing into the DVD player ala 1980s Nintendo revival technique and opening and closing the DVD tray numerous times. That exercise out of the way, it was time for the hell to begin... and boy did it. Try as I might, there was no way I could fight this surround-sound hell, even with my sidekick, Samuel Adams, by my side to numb the pain. It wasn't enough my friends, IT WASN'T ENOUGH!

What would you say if I were to tell you that there exists a movie that has an average of two tits every three seconds? Mind you, that's a rough estimate -- could be less, or possibly more, but we'll go with that estimate... and it doesn't even matter. IT DOESN'T MATTER! The movie is one giant black hole to anything remotely entertaining. I denounced humanity as a whole at least twice during this nightmarish experience.

I know, I know... you're saying: “Okay Jeremiah, we get it, it sucked, but what was the movie about?”

What was the movie about? Go fuck yourself, that's what the movie was about.

Sorry, I was little angry there... with myself more than anyone.

So where were we? Ah, the point of this torturous, tedious, hell. It is, in point of fact, a movie within a movie. (Ha-ha! Double the hell!) A bad, softcore-ish, sophomoric, Z-budget movie about making a bad, softcore-ish, sophomoric, Z-budget movie. As fate would doom it, the movie within the movie is entitled... (Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?) “Bad Girls From Mars.” That's right. And beyond that, it's a supposed sequel to Ed Wood's “Plan 9 From Outer Space” -- historically, one of the worst movies ever made.

To reiterate, the shit within the shit is actually a sequel to an even bigger pile of shit, throw it all together and... EWWWWWW!

The movie concerns itself with the fact that production of “Bad Girls From Mars” is fraught with peril, disaster, and muuurrder. The main actresses (actressi?) can't seem to keep their tops on... or their heads (wah-wahhhh). One of the precious few saving graces of the film is the amount of deaths it contains.

I know it's a movie, and I know those are actors playing a part, but I took a certain sadistic glee in imaging that the actors themselves were being slaughtered -- with the exception of Oliver Darrow, who plays director T.J. McMasters, and his secretary. They're the only two things about this movies that kept me from applying for a gun license. Darrow seems to be the only actor on screen with a modicum of talent and his secretary was the hottest girl in the movie, because she looked comparatively realistic. Then again, that could be the Boston Lager talking, so don't hold me to it.

I could tell you more about the movie, but I just don't care enough. Quite frankly, neither should you. Movies like this make baby Jesus cry. Fucking Piece Of Shit.

/ 5

Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah

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"Death Race" -- A Multi-Geek Review

Jeremiah:
“Death Race” isn't a film so much as it is pure, testosterone-fueled insanity. There are races, there's death and more racing, followed by more death, fighting, racing, death again and, oh yeah, plenty of what one might call “jiggly” women. They jiggle... all the time. In fact, I was actually kind of disheartened when I was informed that women really don't exit vehicles like they do in this movie.

It's hard to hate “Death Race” for the simple fact that "Death Race" knows it's "Death Race" and wastes little time in getting things started.

The opening informs us that the movie takes place in the future and that the economy has fallen due to massive inflation, thus causing crime rates to skyrocket. The result being an overcrowded prison system, run by private corporations who concoct ingenious plans for both decreasing the surplus population and lining their pockets with fat stacks of cash. Now, before some of you start to get interested in the possible social commentary, the movie quickly forgets this and focuses on Jason Statham's ethnicity which, for the unfamiliar, is full-blooded badass.

Statham plays Jensen Ames, a former race car driver turned steel mill worker who ends up losing his job when the plant closes down. Later on that night, a masked man breaks into his house, murders his wife and frames the Statham. Before you can say, “Thank goodness it wasn't a one armed man,” he's in prison, where Warden Hennessey (Joan Allen) forces him to race. On top of that, they want him to assume the identity of the incredibly popular and recently deceased masked driver, Frankenstein, what with him being the hero to both the prisoners and the population at large, ala, “Rollerball.”

We meet his pit crew, headed up by Coach (Ian McShane) who, while not really doing anything at all, manages to make everyone else look like little girls -- sort of like Samuel L. Jackson in “XXX.” We also meet Frankenstein's co-pilot/navigator, Case (Natalie Martineez). At this point, I would like to applaud the filmmaker Paul W.S. Anderson (Please God do NOT confuse him with the brilliant Paul Thomas Anderson, who is also not to be confused by the transcendent Wes Anderson) for filming his exploitative opus on what most assuredly is fire-proof celluloid. I say this because Natalie Martinez is, well... you know... she's hot.

Anyhow, suffice to say there are other racers as well, but the creme de le crème is the track itself, for in order to activate the vehicle guns and defense mechanisms (oil slick, smog, tacks and such) they have to run over these huge buttons in the ground -- a plot point that had me and the other Two Geeks making no end of Mario Kart jokes throughout the film.

See “Death Race,” don't see “Death Race,” ultimately it really makes no difference. It's a high-octane exploitation flick that exploits everything from your emotions, women, cars, violence, cheesy writing and just film in general. I'm fine with that, really. When you walk into a movie with a title like “Death Race” starring someone like Jason Statham you should only be looking for three things: death , racing and Statham kicking someone's ass to a pulp. This movie has all three of those things in mass quantities. It made me giggle.

Am I a better person after this movie? Maybe... but probably not. Yet I'm strangely okay with that.

/ 5

Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah



Thaddeus:
We need bad movies. And I don't mean bad like "X-Files: I Want to Believe" bad or last year's violently tragic "Dragon Wars" bad, I mean like Schwarzenegger bad. Notoriously, classically and endlessly, entertainingly bad.

The formula should be easily recognizable by now: the future sucks, government corporations control everything and people are placated by prepackaged, live-broadcast murder. "The Running Man" will always be my favorite example of the genre, but there are plenty more: "Rollerball," "Robot Jox" and, of course, "Death Race 2000."

While I hate to admit it, I've never seen the original "Death Race 2000" movie -- even though it combines gladiatorial vehicular homicide with the combined, insurmountable acting prowess of Sylvester Stallone and David Carradine under the dismal backdrop of a futuristic America in the far-off year 2000.

Damn... why haven't I seen that movie?

Anyway, it came as quite a shock when "Death Race" brought a lot more quality to the screen than this particular genre is used to. I mean, c'mon... Jason Statham has, at times, been a real actor (See: "Snatch" -- no jokes, please)... even if his emotional range is somewhat limited by the fact that he always looks kinda angry.

"Death Race" is an excellent use of a tub of popcorn and an hour and a half of your time. What do you want? If you can't appreciate a good, high-speed, action extravaganza... what are you doing at the movies? You must be the kind of people who didn't like "Grindhouse." Don't talk to me.

The plot is, as Sherman previously described, not overly cerebral, but the world is populated by so many cool characters and crazy situations that it hardly matters. The whole "Frankenstein" garage crew is pretty entertaining: particularly Ian McShane as the grizzled Coach and Frederick Koehler as Lists, the nerdy whiz-kid who makes me wonder why he was incarcerated in the first place. Joan Allen's Warden Hennessey is perfectly on-key as the icy, heartless master-villain and I spent the whole movie wanting Hennessey's sadistic lackey/prison guard Ulrich (Jason Clarke) to die horribly... so I guess that means he did his job, right?

The only real problem I had was the utter lack of Stallone and/or Carradine. Catch "Death Race" if you get a chance. It's fun.

3 out of 5

-Thad out

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"Tropic Thunder" -- A Nearly Three Geek Review

Thaddeus:
"Tropic Thunder" was packed with comedically brilliant performances. It was both totally stolen by the side characters and completely dominated by the principals.

I don't even understand how that works.

But the bigger point here is that I'm about to gush about a Ben Stiller movie -- this is huge!

Don't get me wrong... I don't harbor the same roiling animosity for young Stiller's work as I do for Will Ferrell's brand of "comedy," but let's just say that flicks like "Zoolander" and "Meet the Parents" have never come near drawing this many laughs out of me. It was fantastic.

Aside from starring, Ben Stiller also co-wrote, directed and called in every famous person he'd ever met to pop up in cameo roles, making "Tropic Thunder" into the definition of what a big-budget comedy should be.

The fake trailers and commercials at the opening of the film were almost worth the trip by themselves, if it wasn't for the rest of the movie. After the strong opening, the movie may take a few minutes to fully win you over, but there's one particular explosion in the jungle that basically lines up the rest of the movie as a home-run hit.

As for the main guys: Stiller's vapid action star character, Tugg Speedman, manages to come off as endearingly idiotic, rather than just the regular type, and actually grows through the course of the movie... sort of; Robert Downey Jr. steals as many scenes as he can get his hands on as the over-the-top and obviously mentally unbalanced "serious actor," Russell Crowe Kirk Lazarus; Jack Black makes drug withdrawal even funnier than it already is as fart-comedian Jeff Portnoy; Brandon T. Jackson has to deal with Downey Jr.'s insane attempts to bond with him as sell-out rapper Alpa Chino; and Jay Baruchel plays the other guy... whose character name escapes me. He's great, though. Basically the straight-man and, considering who he's surrounded by, that's a helluva load to carry.

And we're not even to the brilliant bit-players yet -- and I mean that with all due deference. How can we even hope to list them all? Matthew McConaughey becomes the best agent an actor could ever hope for in the role of Rick Peck, "Pineapple Express's" Danny McBride blows up everything in sight as Cody, the half-cocked pyrotechnician; Steve Coogan seems to be teasing us about his upcoming "Hamlet 2" headline role as the movie-within-the-movie's director, Damien Cockburn; and Tom Cruise just... man, you gotta see it.

The Summer of Adventure downshifted into a roaring Late-Summer of Comedy. Good comedy, even. Between "Tropic Thunder" and "Pineapple Express," there is literally no reason to consider seeing "Disaster Movie" whenever it comes out.

4 out of 5

-Thad out.



Jeremiah:
The most amazing thing about “Tropic Thunder”is that it's directed by Ben Stiller. I tell you this because “Tropic Thunder” is a solid movie. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's just as good as “Pineapple Express.” But if you want a definitive "Which is better?" answer, all I can say is it depends entirely on my mood.

Both movies require a basic knowledge of movie cliches for their particular genres. “Pineapple Express” had action movies, while Stiller's “Tropic Thunder” covers the whole Hollywood machine. The more familiar you are with how seriously Hollywood takes itself, the more you will appreciate the genius of this movie. In retrospect, it shares a lot in common with the brilliant, yet under-appreciated, “Bowfinger.”

I shan't be going into detail about the plot. If you want to see “Tropic Thunder,” you already know what it's about. Also, I don't feel like giving you exposition. Anyhow, everyone does an outstanding job. The movie takes some odd left turns, but they do so with aplomb and talent (Critic speak for "really good twists").

It should come as no surprise to anyone that Robert Downey Jr., as Kirk Lazarus, does a fantastic job. The person who really surprised me was Ben Stiller. I'm not a huge Stiller fan. Oh, I like him alright, it's just that his presence in a movie is not a factor in my decision making process when it comes to seeing said movie or not.

Suffice to say, this is his most enjoyable work.

Yet it's the side characters that steal most of the thunder. Danny McBride -- who some of you may remember as Saul's supplier, Red, from “Pineapple Express” -- and “Undeclared” alum Jay Baruchel. Both of whom manage to upstage their counterparts: McBride with Nolte and Baruchel with, well... an amazingly talented ensemble. I guess upstage is the wrong word. More like they glean laughs from their fellows. In a way, that's what's most surprising: it's an ensemble piece.

There are cameo's galore, with big-name actors lending their times to give you fully fleshed-out side characters. I will say only two things: 1.)How can anyone not like Matthew McConaughey? Seriously, he's like a stoner version of Tom Hanks. 2.) JENNIFER LOVE HEWITT!

For those of you don't know me: before there was Salma Hayek, Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson, Anne Hathaway, Tyra Banks, Penolpe Cruz, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Christina Ricci, Selma Blair, Summer Glau, Eliza Dushku, Chraisma Carpenter, Kristen Bell, Lauren Ghram, Billie Piper, etc., etc., etc., there was the ever-lovely Jennifer Love Hewitt.

The moment I saw her on screen, I clapped -- [Warning: "Dark Knight" plot info ahead] and I haven't clapped that hard since a certain police commissioner revealed that he was, in fact, NOT dead. I know... it's a sad, lonely, pathetic life I lead. Could be worse. I could be the guy who reads the writings of said sad, pathetic, lonely guy.

Ouch! Did that hurt!?

Back to the business at hand: “Tropic Thunder” is a really good movie. It's part of a trend I'm hoping to see more of: funny comedies. Common sense dictates that the phrase is redundant and assumed -- but take into account the numerous, tragically unfunny “American Pie” straight-to-video sequels; or the (Insert Genre Description Here) Movie movies; or, sadly, even the National Lampoon offerings that have been thrown at us in the past few years and you'll see what I mean.

Thankfully, movies like “Pineapple Express” and “Tropic Thunder” are around to reassure us that it's okay to laugh and be stupid while still maintaining some competence, not just in film-making, but comedy in general.

Thank you, Ben Stiller, for continiuing this streak. God speed, Speedman.


/ 5 Hewitts


Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah



Richard:
[Update to come(?)]

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