Fred Clause

"I'm playing Santa; drunk, fat, chain-smoking Santa!"

View trailer.

In spite of all the crazy football games this weekend, I have given myself five to ten minutes to write a trailer review for Paul Giamatti's new movie Fred Claus which quickly comes out in about 360 days. Why advertise now? I don't know. My wager is that it was supposed to come out a few weeks ago, but something got fucked up and now Vince Vaughn and Giamatti have to wait a year to promote this truly shit idea. Why don't these guys get choosey? What is the deal with the Lady in the Water, The Break-Up, or Mr. and Mrs. Smith? These movies make me want to take my penis out, put it in an open drawer and slam that drawer shut. Add Fred Claus to the list. Penis hurts.

A fat guy and a drunk guy on the couch? You're Santa's brother? How have you lived forever like Santa, Vince? I mean, he's not 37-years-old like you. Add to my hell capping the trailer off with the last punchline: a wet willy. I mean, seriously. Also, when did Santa and his family go Jewish? These trailer is horrific and I really don't know why they have to re-make Wedding Crashers with Jewish Santas. I will probably see this, but unintentionally. Meaning: I will go out on a drinking-binge the night this movie comes out. I will sit in a seedy, Bukowski-ish bar somewhere in Upstate New York drinking martinis and beers and blood until I black out. I will wake up either hours or days later to the sound of Vince Vaughn. Some douche bag will have left me in some AMC Theater in Malta and I will have to watch this goddamn movie. Why, Vince Vaughn, oh why can't I wake up hungover with you in a serious drama? Or how about a sex scene with you, Anne Hathaway and Ron Howard?! Give it to me, Vince, cause otherwise this is the same shit movie you've made for the last 7 years. Shape up! Do Anne Hathaway.

Children of Men - Reviewed

Everyone is choking themselves on their popcorn for Children of Men. One person I saw the movie with literally shot himself in the head. It's just that good. The Village Voice's J. Hoberman, the rum-drinking lush, lauded one of the movie's gripping scenes, "The year's most brilliantly choreographed action sequence," and The Guardian called the film, "A brilliant vision of a dystopian future Britain." It's odd, because I almost always disagree with critics about films - it's a spite thing. A few years back, my father told me when we walked into The Sixth Sense that it was going to suck, and dammit, he was right. His prescience is phenomenal, even for a blind man with no dog. He ruined the whole thing. But, alas, in the case of COM, the critics are absolutely right, it's fucking fun.

Set twenty years from now in London (Orwell's London), Children of Men opens with the world on the brink of total - "it's okay to rob that old wanker" - apocalypse. Society is sliding into anarchy, the only people who keep order actually inflict horrific disorder (sorta like our army). It's like looking into a modern-day, fascist Nazi situation. Images are eerily reminiscent of Abu Ghraib, and, cleverly, like the graphic novel "V for Vendetta." Theo, played by Clive Owen dressed in a pig costume, is kidnapped by members of a "terrorist group" called "The Fishes," headed by Julianne Moore. I find issue here only that a woman could never lead a terrorist group (they're inferior), especially in a world where it's their fault they can't have babies. It has nothing to do with men. Men, of course, still rock-the-mic raw. However, Moore is Owen's estranged wife, and she asks him to lead Kee (the name inference is not lost on the most retarded of female viewers) to "The Human Project." Thus, Cuaron's awesome chase begins with all sorts of weird events, improbable but welcome twists, and, of course, a Bear is slaughetered for no reason whatsoever. Pure, trademark Cuaron.

Where I love this movie is where I actually disagree with the wonderful writers at Pajiba. "Perhaps the most compelling aspect of the film is Cuaron's somewhat hopeful outlook," they write. However, this is simply not true. I'll not spoil the ending here, but watch carefully in the last few shots. I think you'll find that there may be hope, but darkness and despair overpower this chilling view of a world that isn't just a fiction. For various reasons, it's very fathomable. Worse even, it's filmed and set in England - perhaps one of the least aesthetic people on the planet. Even their bosomy beauties are not as attractive as the little, pock-marked street urchins sucking on the meth pipes and sniffing paper-bag-hidden Elmers in Nebraska's weirdest rural suburbs. Yes, dear readers, a great, fun movie that leaves itself open to interpretation, but, moreso, gives you a thrill for a mere $12 dollars.

Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer

So…I like this teaser a lot.

Shut up.

That’s right. I don’t care what you say. The Silver Surfer is the herald of Galactus, the Planet-Eater.Yeah, you read it right: Planets. How cool is that?

Additionally, this trailer very accurately recreates the chase between the Human Torch and the Silver Surfer from The Fantastic Four #48. I appreciate that.

Seriously, shut up.

For all you naysayers, I will offer this gem borrowed from a fellow blog: “Keep in mind while watching it, if he weren't silver, he'd just be a bald, naked, surfing man.”

Are We Done Yet?

This movie with Arsenio Hall and Janet Jackson looks like shit.

View the trailer here.