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| July 2007 »
It's me Daniel LaRusso. You know your ex-boyfriend from America, I went to Japan and met you, I even did this whole tea ceremony that was apparently supposed to signify that you and I were in love. Remember how I heroically fought not only to protect you but also won the match of a lifetime by beating that mean kid from Japan? Well as it turned out I left my skills back in the east and you somehow pussified me. Also you're bad luck. As soon as you told me that the dance shop opened in Tokyo and that you weren't coming to America, I was harassed by some guy who looked like Sasha Mitchell. Seems that he wanted my title and that somehow his financial future depended on me fighting him. His name was Mike Barnes and he was a mean prick.
Oh yeah and speaking of bad luck, as soon as I got off the plane my Uncle Louie got sick, so my mother left me to start college on my own and Mr. Myiagi, you know the guy your aunt supposedly loved, was jobless and I was homeless. So I moved in with Mr. Myiagi because I seriously had nowhere to go. I mean my apartment was gone and my stuff is most likely gone. It really has been a cruel summer as the song so adequately put it in my first adventure I told you endlessly about in Japan. Mr. Myiagi really is starting to go through a depression, so being the nice guy I am, I squandered my college tuition to fund a banzai tree shop. That's right we opened up a banzai tree shop and it's because of our hard knocks that you and your aunt put us through that made us this sad and stupid enough to believe that this would be a good idea.
Also about Mr. Myiagi he seems so depressed lately, I can sense that he's tired of my presence and that somehow despite my favor to him, he seems ultimately tired of my problems. I especially sensed this when I told him that I needed to compete in the tournament because I was being bullied to do so. I mean this Mike Barnes was a prick, he even almost killed me and yet Mr. Myiagi still refused to train me. I honestly had no idea what to do, I mean they demolished our banzai tree store, trapped me on the bottom of a cliff where the tide would drown us and worst of all broke a priceless banzai tree which Mr. Myiagi planted when he immigrated to this country. Despite all of this Mr. Myiagi refused to train me, deciding to try tough love on me. Despite the fact that the only reason I got involved with the tournament was because my life was on the line. That and my girlfriend.
Oh by the way babycakes, my first blonde girlfriend put out, you didn't but we at least kissed, but this red head bitch? She would barely dance with me! That's right she must have noticed your scent or something because your overall bad luck has overall caused a ripple effect in my rebound game and even though the only cure for your absence would've normally been going to college to bang three blondes a night, I decided to open a banzai tree shop and compete in a tournament that I clearly had no chance of winning.
I know this maybe strange to hear this, as seeing that I beat what is the best fighter in Japan but since I became a lover instead of fighter (Thanks a lot!) I've completely wussed out. If this prick Barnes challanged me before I went to Japan I would've kicked the living crap out of him but since you left, my overall depression has caused me to wuss out and be a complete jackass. Indeed that prick is apparently "Karate's Bad Boy" but compared to my last battle he was nothing. Indeed had I had a clear head I would've broke a sweat beating him up.
I begged Mr. Myiagi repeatedly but he declined me each time, even ridiculing me in front of my red head friend so I turned to Mr. Silver, who taught me things that were wrong. I became a complete bruiser, I even broke a kid's nose in a dance club! However as it turned out Mr. Silver was the one who paid Barnes to wipe the floor with me and it's here Myiagi trashed Mr. Silver, Barnes and Mr. Kreese the prick from the first movie. You see Mr. Kreese was pissed off that I beat all of his students last year and lost his students because of it. Except the real reason he lost his students was that he almost killed one of them. So anyway they came up with this completely far fetched plot to gain revenge on me. Mainly by beating me up, vandalizing Myiagi's stores, threatening our lives and making life very unpleasant. Of course because I was too stupid to get the police involved, or the people who are working with the tournament I pretty much was dumb enough for this plan to work.
I suppose you want to know how the tournament went, well I was getting my ass kicked. I couldn't connect with any punches, my kicks were all blocked and the prick I was fighting broke the rules so many times that in real life a martial artist would be disqualified, however being that the world was against me, I got back up and kept getting my ass kicked. Until Myiagi told me I can't lose to fear and that my best karate was still inside and now it was time to let it out. So I started doing kata and in one crazy fluke this worked, I threw Barnes over and punched him in the chest and won the fight. Boy, can we say lucky. However I don't have to worry about such things since Myiagi and I are going seperate ways, I hear he's training a girl now, I of course am in college but sadly all the girls there think i'm a creepy old guy. So i'm asking, No, I'm begging for you to come to America and start again, I mean I need a battle, something to do as I have literally done nothing since these adventures.
Barnes became a soap opera star, Mr. Silver became a low budget action star, Mr. Kreese became Biehn screened and Ihaven't done anything since winning this tournament. But that's what I get after all for being Biehn Screened, I was 27 years old and yet I was still sucking off the teat that hollywood conformed to my limited acting skills. I mean you don't see a lot of 27 year old kids play 18, in fact I was actually older than Mr. Silver by a couple monthes. Wow! So please Kumiko, I know it's been years but what do you say? I mean i'm desperate, and remember if not for me that guy in Japan would've killed you. You owe me.
Hamlin Grade: 5
-Board certified professional safety dancer
Many of you would be surprised that a pioneer of stage and screen like myself, does not enjoy the occassional trip to the theatre. Why you ask?
Most likely because of a cunt like yourself.
Theatres, and to be more specific, movie theatres are packed to the rafters with cunts. That is why I prefer to take my film viewing in at one of my many palatial estates, all in an effort to avoid the aforementioned cunts.
While many of you below the poverty line are unable to enjoy the safety of my virtual ivory tower, I have complied a profile of the types of cunts you may meet on your travels so you too may be able to avoid them. Below are a list of the variety of cunts you will most certainly find at the movie theatre:
The expert cunt. "Oh you have to see this movie in the theater!" Oh do I cunt? Frankly, I really don't. I own several High Definition Televisions that one, are larger than your home, and two, don't include your presence, cunt.
The gabby cunt. This cunt usually comes in a pair. They have no interest in actually viewing the movie they purchased their seat for, but would rather discuss an inane topic (usually focusing on their failed and irrelevant lives) with their cunt counterpart. Like all cunts in a theatre, they are selfish, but also borderline retarded as a coffee shop, or stoop would be a better locale for their trivial and meaningless exchange.
The cell phone cunt. This is a modern day version of the gabby cunt. While celphone technology is relatively new, the art of being a cunt is an age old tradition. The cell phone cunt has two minor variations. The first cunt is the one who forgets they are in a theatre, and doesn't shut off their telephone. Thus everyone's experience is momentarily put on hiatus until this cunt can disable the ringer, and hopefully the cell phone for the remainder of the film. The second cunt, actually answers the device, and has a conversation during the film, and like all cunts who own cell phones, they have to talk at a volume that defies logic.
The play by play cunt. This is perhaps the worst kind of cunt. This individual spends the entire film announcing painfully obvious phrases like 'Holy Shit did you see that!?' and 'Oh Man that was great!?' or 'I saw that coming from a mile away!' and must assume they are providing us some valuable service as no one else in the theatre could have possibly witnessed what they just did.
The trailer cunt. Preceding most films these days are endless projections of coming soon featurettes that delay the inevitable beginning of the movie you would like to see, and the sheer torture you will soon experience at the hands of all of these cunts. The trailer cunt is an appetizer of sorts to the rest of the cunts. This cunt will defiantly announce at the conclusion of every trailer either 'That looks great', or 'That looks like crap', as if we needed their approval, or even slightly valued their opinion.
The shoosh cunt. This cunt while meaning well, is trying to relive their glory filled Hall Monitor days by admonishing those around them for not strictly obeying the rules of said establishment. The shoosh cunt will verbally chastise anyone in breach of conduct in the theatre often making far more noise, and creating a much larger disturbance than the original cunt had. In most cases, the shoosh cunt will set off the offending cunt, creating a situation that will often bring the film going experience to an end.
The sorry I'm late cunt. The lights dim, the curtain raises, the movie starts.... and this cunt shows up. The sorry I'm late cunt, always makes their way into the theatre after the movie has begun, when it is impossible to navigate dark aisles without the assistance of echo-location, and always, always, always has to sit in your row and force you to rise from your seat, and miss precious seconds of the film. The sorry I'm late cunt will often evolve in the excuse me I need to use the bathroom cunt, and force you to get up twice more at least before the end of the picture. I personally enjoy tripping this cunt.
The newborn baby cunt.The attention span of most individuals maxes out at roughly seven minutes. For infants fresh from the womb (or cunt), that time rapidly decreases. So why bring your young child to a film that may last 2 hours (and heaven help us if it is a Costner movie)? Because you are a cunt. Moments into the film, this cunt will begin trying to assuage their little cunt with soothing words, food, beverage, the eventual stroll up and down the aisle, out the door, back in, up and down the aisle once more, in and out again, until finally the child explodes into a screaming raging monster and the cunt must leave, not however before ruining our movie-going experience.
The sex cunt. Ahh, the young couple in love, exploring one another's sexuality, truly a beautiful thing. Except when that exploration is occurring 2 feet in front of me you cunts. Nothing is more disgusting than pair of genetically absent cunts who are unable to secure a private room and rather than choose decorum, attempt reproduction in the row preceding mine.
This tragic list of cunts could go on forever, as I'm sure there are a multitude of new cunt species now thriving in today's palaces of the moving picture. I however have chosen to bid a farewell, which is far from fond to the theatre that has evolved into little more than a denizen of cunts.
This is the word of Caine.
Praise be to Caine.
I AM AN F.B.I. AGENT!
Actually, Keanu, you are in fact a B.A.D. Actor.
1991's Point Break united superstars Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze (one at the ascent of his career, the other teetering on the apex) for this action packed thrill ride which fused the suspense and drama of bank robbery with the beauty, and speed of surfing, and then liberally coated it with steaming mounds of bad acting.
Agent Johnny Utah (played by the Keanu), fresh out of Quantico, where he graduated with top honors (100%! Way to go Utah... yeah Keanu, give us that thumbs up you prick) is sent packing to California, to the F.B.I.'s Bank Robbery Division. After a warm introduction from FBI Agent Harp (played magnificently by John C. McGinley of Platoon fame.... whaddaya say there LT?) Utah meets his new partner FBI Agent Angleo Pappas (played by Bad Movie Knights own Gary Busey). Utah and Pappas share a few moments of slinging testosterone at one another before uniting to take down the Ex-Presidents.... a group of uncatchable bank robbers.
Pappas' theory is that the Ex-Presidents are surfers and thus Utah must go undercover as a surfer to discover the identity of these wave riding banditos. With me so far?
Enter Tyler Ann Endicott (played by the irritating Lori Petty.... her voice sounds like a rust knife being scraped across a black board) a total loser who works at a roadside snackstand and apparently has some surfing ability. But what do you expect from a time when the internet wasn't as prevalent? Utah put's his thing down and convinces her to teach him to surf. While learning the art of the board from Tyler, he spies the lean and sensual form of Bodhi cruising the waves. Bohdi (played by the very sexy Patrick Swayze.... is there anything hotter than Swayze and large bodies of water? Whether it be on a surf board or tai-chiing it up lakeside.... the man just makes you question your sexuality), referred to as the Bodazoffa (I may have spelled that wrong but does it matter?.... what the fuck is a Bodazoffa anyway?) and is the leader of a surf group (unspoken leader anyway). His peers who are playing football toss him the ball and Utah intercepts it.... instantly igniting Bodhi's errogenous zones, and invites Utah to play football with them (this is code for have sex with me - see Joe from Say Anything...).
Utah once again throws his manhood around against Bodhi's and end's up tackling him in the surf... by design rather than fortunate accident. Bodhi's gang immediately question Utah's motives and look prepared to beat him silly until Bohdi introduces him as former Ohio State Buckeye's quaterback Johnny Utah. NUMBER 9 MAN! Johnny Fucking Utah sorry man didn't mean to get in your face. Now we're all good friends.
Point Break continues on with Utah and Pappas unsuccesfully tracking down the wrong group of surfers whom they think are the bank robbers. Dejected, Utah goes to Bodhi's beach party, has a few beers, does some night surfing, bangs the hot dog cart bitch, and then realizes that Bodhi and his friends could be the Ex-Presidents. Actually those parts are reversed, but whatever you get the fucking point.
Utah and Pappas stake out a bank, and sure enough during their hearty breakfast of meatball subs, the Ex-Presidents arrive to hold up the financial institution. This is probably one of the best scenes in the movie (aside from the ones where Swayze is shirtless) as Pappas and Utah pursue the Ex-President's by car, then Utah takes off after Bodhi on foot. The foot chase scene is hilarious. It goes on forever, through backyards, homes, driveways, large gaping vagina's, you name it, they ran through it. This scene in fact encompasses one-third of the movie. Bodhi however manages to escape when Utah re-injures his knee (the same one he injured during his college football days... missed my window).
Toss in some more surfing, a little skydiving, a kidnapping, another bank robbery, another kidnapping, a shootout, some more sky diving and you have the heart and soul of Point Break. Now somewhere during this movie you will ask yourself... is Bell's Beach bigger than Wayameah... bra? Point Break won't leave you hanging as we find out at the finale of the film.
A little 50 year storm action, a fist fight, some hand cuffs, a Ronald Reagan mask, some whip cream.... and you have one sweet ass bad movie. This is perhaps Keanu Reeves second best role ever (after Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure), as he does have to play a surfer throughout most of the movie, and he's believable in the part (whoever thought casting him in Shakespeare was a wise move should be raped by a tractor). Point Break launched Reeves into superstardom, and unfortunately for Swayze was the last real blockbuster he ever headlined in.... unless you count that drag queen shit he appeared in a few years later (although Wesley Snipes did make a pretty hot chick).
Point Break delivers when it comes to action, but the beauty of this film is that almost every line in the movie is quotable. Either the screenwriter was a genius or a major league jackass. Regardless, Point Break is Bad Movie Knight gold.
Keanu, this is YOUR fucking wake up call!
Hamlin Grade: 5
Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
Can you say sausage fest?
300 is a bad movie. Yes it's loaded with action. Loaded with battle scenes. Loaded with special effects. So why is it a bad movie? Because it is also loaded with cock.
When the armies of Xerxes decides to annex Sparta, and the Spartan soothsayers forbid Leonidus from going to war, he and 300 of his soldiers jump into their speedos, grab their spears (no pun intended) and shields, don their red capes and saunter off to the battlefield. What follows is 2 hours of Greco-Brokeback Mountain-Wrestling between these combatants armed only with their courage and the best abdominal muscles the computer graphics world could supply (my thoughts and prayers go out to the poor bastard who had to sit for the better part of 8 years digitally enhancing abs while his peers created spaceships, monsters, and cityscapes dotted with a giant ape).
The novelty of the grand battle sequence is truly over. Ever since Mel Gibson whipped out his Braveheart and slaughtered the English, every director in Hollywood (and a scant few in New Zealand) has clambered to reproduce that same effort. Some have succeeded, but most have failed. 300 to it's credit, does offer a new look at the giant battle scene, but after several hours of this monotony, it too becomes a parody of itself. What you are ultimately left with is a bunch of guys in capes and g-strings dancing around fighting a losing battle until they all die.
300 is visually entertaining, and the Director does manage to toss a few breasts our way but they are few and far between and hardly serve to balance the heaving pile of penis this movie throws your way. From what I've read in the history books, these guys actually fought in the buff, so the speedos and capes were creative license taken by the films director. For that I bless him with a Hamlin. Otherwise, that CGI guy would have been digitally enhancing cock for a decade..... and we would have been forced to swallow... I mean watch it.
Hamlin Grade: 1
Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
According to many people who have encountered this movie, Hostel is allegedly disturbing, scary and shocking. It isn't. One thing it also isn't, is all that watchable. Of course i'm not going to get politically correct because I wasn't offended or even grossed out. Just bored by it.
The slim story is about a three frat boy styled Americans who travel to Europe to party. In Amsterdam they're told that Slovakia is far more fun (Yeah right) , tons of horny women are there and it's the garden of eden. Of course the old saying "Too good to be true" doesn't seem to have been learned by our moronic trio, so they head out to Slovakia and get tortured there. That's about all there is to the narrative of Hostel.
One of my biggest pet peeves are when protagonists are smug and idiotic. I mean Slovakia a bigger party town than Amsterdam? Also who just trusts someone with an offer that is too good to be true? I mean haven't these characters ever bought a car? Well we definitely know these frat boys aren't from the big city. I mean how naive does one have to be to take some stranger's word (Let alone a guy from Amstersdam, that's like trusting some random guy from Bangkok.) that such a hotel is the party capitol of the world.
One of the dullest things about Hostel, is just how predictable it all is. Also for a movie that is supposedly a horror movie, the movie spends little time actually giving the audience the splatter that one would assume that such a title contains. Indeed the first hour is non-stop frat boy partying and naked chicks. Actually the naked chicks are the only thing that provides one with the little entertainment value this movie has. Then things (finally) start happening and once again our lone protagonist doesn't figure out that sometimes it's wise to get out while the getting is good. I mean when two of your friends disappear, I think it's time to go back to Holland. Once again the protagonists have an I.Q lower than a box of hammers.
Then the torture begins and it's really not that disturbing as people would have you believe. I mean i'll admit the eyeball sequence is gross but outside of that, there isn't anything here that wasn't done in the 70s and the only real reason people think of it as disturbing is because most horror movies of today are PG-13 processed crap that lacks the edge of even the worst 80s slasher flick. So of course the hype surrounding it is going to be there, I mean when comparing the genre standards. However for people who have seen 70's exploitation flicks, Hostel is just a waste of time. Hostel doesn't have the sick shock effect of an I Spit On Your Grave and it certainly doesn't have the suspense of a good horror flick.
So in other words, all Hostel is, is hype. A movie with no surprises, no suspense, no story and no entertainment. If gore is your thing rent Hellraiser, if disturbing is what you want, rent Last House On The Left. If edgy horror is what you seek, rent something from the 70s or 80s. However if it is unpleasant boredom you search for, then you may want to check out Hostel.
Hamlin Grade: 2
-Board certified professional safety dancer
American Psycho. Ok, American, I'll give you that, but a psycho? Sorry, I don't buy it.
Let's take a look a long hard look at Patrick Bateman (played by Batman himself, Christian Bale), the Wall Street something or other (we never really know what he does, other than the fact that he works for the firm known as Pierce and Pierce) who lives an extraordinary life..... one that I have a difficult time trying to find a trace of any psychosis.
Bateman is super rich, lives in the American Gardens building, (apparently the same building Tom Cruise lives in... at least according to the novel) a skyscraper stuffed with New York's elite, enjoys the finest of clothing, accessories, products, food, furniture, appliances, cigars, wines, liquors, cocaine, raincoats, axes, luggage, duct tape and nail guns. Psycho? Or a man who enjoys the finer things in life?
Living is what Bateman does best. His days are consumed with a job that requires little to no attention, fine dining, drinks before, during and after work, business card design, modest placation of his fiance Evelyn, and a nightly desire to browse the best ladies of the evening, either walking the soiled curbs of the Meat Packing District, or readily available through the Yellow pages. Psychotic? Nay, this is a man who has life figured out.
Prostitutes who enjoy the company of Mr. Bateman are treated to a night of truffles, fine Chardonnay, hard core sex which is generously covered by video tape all why experiencing a rainbow of melodic joy lovingly poured into their ears by Phil Collins. What better way to end an evening of such unparallelled ecstasy than with a rusty coat hanger and a pair of plyers? I ask you is that psychotic? Certainly not. Generous is the term that strikes me first.
A homeless man in need, Bateman is there with much needed advice to help jump start his life. A colleague who is rewarded with the Fisher account, and Bateman is there to lend support with a great meal, drinks, cigars, and a historic lesson on master singer / songwriter Huey Lewis who's sounds are only surpassed by a generously layed out New York Time Style Section. Pschotic? Please.
Genital cleansing? Bateman is there. Proper use of power tools? Bateman is there. Mammalian deposits into cash machines? Bateman is there. Encouraging models that are feeling insecure? Bateman is there. Clitoris removal? Bateman is there. Unsatisfied fiance of a co-worker? Bateman is there. Sexual harassment? Bateman is there. Helping Private Detectives solve missing persons cases? Bateman is there. Sorbet? Bateman is there. Video tapes need returning? Bateman is there. Dry cleaning stained sheets? Bateman is there. Honey Almond Body Scrub. Bateman is there. Proper refrigeration of severed heads? Bateman is there. Supporting the NYPD? Bateman is there. Need a new answering machine message? Bateman is there. Reservations at Dorsia. Well Bateman can't do everything.
So where's the psycho in American Psycho? Other than paying $20 for a drink at Tunnel, I don't find a mentally ill bone in Bateman's body. Perhaps they should have just called this movie American?
Do you like Phil Collins?
You bet your fucking ass I do.
Hamlin Grade: 8
Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,