My hit counter is THROUGH THE ROOF!
SKIDOOSH!
P.S. This blog is making me feel a lot better. Thanks, blog.
My hit counter is THROUGH THE ROOF!
SKIDOOSH!
P.S. This blog is making me feel a lot better. Thanks, blog.
There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me
UPDATE:
Well, shit, now I have to include a clip from the wonderful Sammy Maudlin show.
But I might be feeling a lot better by the time Lollapalooza rolls around, if TV on the Radio wants to get brunch.
Thanks to everyone who has commented on my crappy marriage post. I really was going back and forth about whether to post. It made me feel better. I tell you, writing stuff in general feels good.
I’m taking care of myself, and it’s nice to know there are sympathetic ears out there in the Internet swamp.
Gold stars for all of you.
And the Feelies, I realize you’re probably in town for a short time, you might have prior plans, you might have family here. I have no expectations of your visit outside enjoying the hell out of your show at Millennium Park.
Still, email me at heyfeeliesareyouhungry@gmail.com if you want to grab a bite to eat. I’ll even buy the first round of drinks.
I don’t have high expectations of this snowballing into something cool, but I’ll try it anyways.
There are oodles of movie reviewers, professional and otherwise, in print, online, by the water cooler, everywhere.
Still, I really dig my Two Buck Schmuck movie reviews, and haven’t really read anything quite like them. I’m attached to a particular second-run movie theater, and in my reviews I often try to give a sense of time and place outside just the movie-watching experience.
I inhabit the strange limbo between first-run moviehouses and DVDs. It’s a place I really enjoy.
I sure as hell am not the only person who goes to see cheap movies. And I’m probably not the only who has an opinion about these cheap movies.
So, I am creating a group. It will be international in scope. In fact, I am calling it the International Federation of Second-Run Movie Critics (IFSRMC).
If you want to be a member, let me know. I’d be happy to have you on the team!
A logo for this group is forthcoming.
The Night Bazaar Place, a heartwarming anecdote about signage on my sister blog.
The LaGrange has now resumed normal operating hours, which has made it easier to indulge in my affections for the second-run cinema.
I had some time Friday night, so I decided to hoppity hop hop on over.
What were my choices?
Ghosts of Girlfriends Past – Just the words “Matthew McConaughey” are enough to cause painful boils to erupt on my body (yes, boils just erupted on my body after I typed his name). I can’t handle a whole movie of that lazy, doe-eyed sack of meat.
I Love You, Man – I’m kind of sick of bromance movies, even if this turns out to be the Citizen Kane of bromance movies (or even The Magnificent Ambersons of bromance movies).
X-Men Origins: Wolverine – Hmmmm. Tempting.
Obsessed – Holy shit, get out of my way! I’m going to see Obsessed!
I just knew a little about the movie. Beyoncé is in it and she may or may not get into a catfight with Ali Larter, which was enough for me. It seemed like it might be a nice trashy, sorta dumb movie, the kind that I enjoy on the cheap.
I get to the theatre and see that most of the renovations are complete. Some of the architecture of the original theater is now exposed, which has some nice details, including some paintings I didn’t look too closely at. The previously bad amateur art that adorned the walls of Theater 3 is now gone, replaced by tasteful curtains. I arrived kind of late, with previews already in progress, so I cannot tell you whether the music of Bob Seger plays before the lights go down (one can only hope).
The ticketing situation is a little funky. There are a couple registers in the front of the inside of the building, which isn’t really conducive to retarded patrons (such as myself) efficiently forming lines. We sort of draped out across the carpeting inside the front doors, hindering both the entrance and exit of dissatisfied/soon-to-be-dissatisfied moviegoers.
The prices had been increased from $3.50 to $5.50. I had known the price increase was coming, but I had forgotten that it was going to be $5.50. I had $2.00 in my wallet and a large jangly pile of quarters in my right pocket. I had enough.
But, it pisses me off. They are fucking with my name. I was Two Buck Schmuck. Then they raised the price to $3.50. Three Buck Fifty Schmuck sounds horrible. Now, Five Buck Schmuck sounds perfectly fine. Hell, even SIX Buck Schmuck sounds nice. But Five Buck Fifty Schmuck? It sounds like a fucking Van Halen album. I DON’T LIKE IT.
They fixed up the concession stand a bit. I was running late so I didn’t take any time to peruse it, but I saw that 1) they have nachos now, and 2) they still are using the RC Cola. If you want some reporting on concessions in a future review, please let me know, and give me some money for snacks.
So, Obsessed. It was kind of boring. The mysterious Idris Elba (mysterious because I don’t know who he is) plays an absolutely perfect husband. I just looked at his IMDB. Hey, he’s Stringer Bell from The Wire! I just started watching that show. Did you know that my TV watching habits have no place in a movie review? It’s true!
Anyways, Elba is rich, he’s thoughtful, he’s faithful, he sends flowers to Beyoncé EVERY FUCKING MONDAY. Annoying, isn’t he? We learn that Beyoncé met Elba when she was temping in the office. So, Ali Larter is now a new temp and has she got it bad for Elba.
Elba’s best friend at work (of course played by the radiant Jerry O’Connell), upon learning she is a temp, retorts, “yeah, she’s a tempTRESS.” ZING!!!
So, Ali comes on to Elba several times, she tries to kill herself, blah blah blah. Elba keeps this from Beyoncé, which he shouldn’t have done, because it’s fucking Beyoncé, right? Nobody puts Beyoncé in the corner.
Anywho, Beyoncé finally finds out about the crazy tempTRESS and kicks Elba out of the house for three months (which really makes no sense unless Beyoncé says it makes sense). They eventually reconcile and then Ali starts fucking with both Beyoncé and Elba, etc.
The thing is, the tempTRESS is never even remotely threatening. She’s not scary, she’s not anything. Even in the final catfight with Beyoncé (yes, there is one!), Ali spends most of the time just trying to get away.
The movie did an interesting shift once Beyoncé becomes aware of the tempTRESS. Elba, who was heavily featured in the first half of the film, falls further and further into the background.
At the end of the movie, when Beyoncé emerges from the catfight largely unscathed, and Elba runs up to hold her, we freeze frame on Beyoncé in the husband’s arms. The funny thing was, we don’t even see his full face. The frame literally cuts off the top half of his head (and you can see by the poster above he barely manages to keep his eyes in frame there).
It’s all about Beyoncé, folks. It’s all about Beyoncé!
Seeing as the prices just got raised, I felt compelled to sneak into the 9:15pm showing of X-Men Origins: Wolverine, already in progress. I saw a fair amount of mutanty action, including the stupid Gambit. There was a guy Deadpool, who a comic book nerd told me they completely fucked up in the movie. There was one cool part where he got decapitated while shooting Cyclopsy lasers from his eyes, which entertainingly demolished a tower at Three Mile Island. And Liev Schreiber as Sabretooth was okay.
I skipped out before the end, because Wolverine started getting teary-eyed with a woman who had betrayed him. I don’t know if the filmmakers know this, but nobody puts Wolverine in the corner.
Toodles!
Gary the Sump Pumping Robot continues to do his job at our house. No seepage has occurred as of yet, despite the miserable rain-logged spring (and now summer!) we have been trudging through.
We were forecast to get around 3 inches of rain last Friday, but ended up getting only about a third of an inch.
However, the wind was freaking strong that night. Recent rains have also added up a bit, at least with regards to the Salt Creek trail that I like riding on.
Here is a small report about nature’s recent attacks on the trail my bike calls home.
A tree fell over the trail. I could not ride under it — I had to get off and walk my bike under it. I am not Fonzie.
Another section of the trail is underwater.
I reached this part of the trail at the same time as an elderly woman. She turned around. I said to her (for some reason), “I’m going to try and ride through it.” I made it a ways forward and soon found myself sloshing in about ten or eleven inches of water. My footsies got all wet, so I turned around and headed back.
I am not Fonzie.