(3 People gave this 4.00 out of 5)

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“If you’re not willing to give up everything, you’ve already lost.”

Swift shot:  How many times have you run into people claiming to be SEALs?  Odds are, they were lying.  With rare exceptions, the silent operators of the deep will emerge from the frosty surf long enough to do their duty and then sink back to the darkest depths.  That is why I was shocked to hear active-duty SEALs were cast in this film, and (for our screening at least) the Bandito Brothers explained why before the film began in a short tribute to the elite warriors.  These are not actors, but they sure as hell deliver the action!!  Act of Valor is an exceptional military action film, which should be required viewing for anyone looking to join the service, any military service, during a time of conflict . . . i.e. WAR!  The above image was a live action sequence that the Bandito Brothers had one chance to capture, of an actual SEAL team embarking to a sub.  While this shot is epic, the next shot in this sequence is something you have to see on the big screen!

A lot of controversy has surrounded the access to the Teams for this film, and casting active duty personnel must be giving someone in the Naval Special Warfare headquarters a friggin’ ulcer, but, somehow, this film hit the can.  My opinion on it is this, no real sources were revealed, names were changed and hopefully if the bad guys are taking notes, it will just flush them out into some well-devised trap wherein the actors will get a chance to face their . . . critics . . . toe to toe.  I could live with that.

Much like a Law & Order episode, the film’s plot is ripped right from mission files of the Navy SEALs, and I won’t give away too much here.  Essentially, a duo of really bad school friends decide they want to strike inside America and make a larger statement than 9/11.  They both have their special skills, and when they reunite after years being apart, their union is something that we can’t allow . . . send in the SEALs!

The film’s narrative is read throughout as a letter to a son, as lessons are to be learned, morals taught, right and wrong determined, values earned in a perceived world where words mean nothing without action.  Each time pieces of the letter are read, it will sink in more and more their overall impact . . . leading to a dramatic final closing signature.  The film captures the hearth and hearts of these, often mis-portrayed, deadly men.  My favorite line from the letter is, “The worst part about getting older is that other men no longer see you as dangerous.”  No doubt, these men are incredibly dangerous, and more than a few times you will find yourself thinking . . . damn, I am glad they are on our side!

If you have ever seen Navy Seals, you have an icon, a stereotype, about what these men should be like.  But, the most chilling aspect of the film shows how ‘normal’ they are, there are no idiotic scenes akin to Charlie Sheen jumping from a moving jeep on a bridge just to avoid a wedding, crap like that is not even a thought to these men.  They are lethal, when necessary, and live life on the edge, at work, but at home they try to be the best providers for their families and balance their mortality with morality.  The only verified SEAL that I ever met was the most down to earth person.  It was refreshing to see Hollywood go to the ‘source’, for a change.

After I just got done reading my Drill Instructor’s EBook, Friends from Damascus, it was awesome to see some of the same types of action-sequences play out in the theater.  When the live-rounds are being peppered into a Quick Reaction Force vehicle, and it almost turns into dust as the SWCC bubbas light it up from the river, it’s like a symphony of precise destruction.  One thing I found interesting, given the current political seascape, was the use of female pilots used for the insertion craft sequences – personally, I couldn’t care less, if they can do the job, and the SEALs can live with it – - – who can argue with that?

This film is just one bad-ass ride at the movies; little dialog is necessary when the action takes the center stage.  And, every critic’s favorite action-flick lament, “But where was the character development?’ goes nowhere here, because these weren’t characters, it was more like watching the actual troops reenact a previous engagement for our viewing pleasure.

Ok, Rick, you LOVED it, we get it, then why not five stars?  Well, this is where I found myself puzzled.  I expected the SEALs to not be able to act, and with the exception of a few scenes with Senior Chief, that held true.  Still, I am not about to say they sucked . . . they can find me fairly easily, heh.  The folks who were supposed to be the actors, didn’t bring their A-game, or maybe they did, but it wasn’t good enough.  Perhaps that is understandable, because they may have been incredibly intimidated.  But, in one scene, that was supposed to be emotionally riveting, the Christo actor (Alex Veadov) dropped so painfully in and out of his accent that I was actually expecting to hear – “CUT!”

But, if you live for hardcore action, you can’t do much better than this, because it is the real deal, the covert, presented in overt glory just so you can understand what true sacrifice these men live with everyday, the threat of death is something they face . . . everyday . . . so that you don’t have to come toe to toe with the enemy.  Oddly enough, when the final credits rolled, I turned to Amadarwin and said, “I think we are going to war soon,” because the film has that feel, much like Pearl Harbor was released right before we were hit in 2001.  It feels like a readiness drill.

I would like to take a few lines here to remember these brave warriors of the night who met their deaths while we all worried about petty things like bills, social networking and gas-prices . . . we are already at war, these Damn Few already know it!  Semper Fi Team Six-  “. . . the dead included 25 Navy SEALs from SEAL Team Six.”

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I’m afraid more rum was needed.

The H-Bomb:  I must confess off the bat that I’ve never read anything by Hunter S. Thompson, and my only real exposure to him was from Terry Gilliam’s bat shit crazy adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which I do kind of like, but ultimately just got too obnoxiously bonkers for me to really, fully embrace.  That’s why the trailers for “The Rum Diary” looked promising.  It looked as though we were going to get another glimpse into Thompson’s very unique mind, only this time in a toned down, more palatable way.

Sadly, screenwriter/director Bruce Robinson toned things down to the point where any interest or fun to be had was just evaporated.  It was like “Fear and Loathing”, except instead of tripping on Acid, it was bombed into a complete stupor of Quaaludes and Valium, so much so that all it can do is slog along from one dramatically indifferent scene to another at a leaden pace.  That is The Rum Diary, Fear and Loathing gone dull.  There is a plot, things do happen, but there is absolutely zero dramatic tension.  There’s no sense of urgency or importance, nothing to hook us in or make us invested in what’s happening.  It’s like watching the movie drunk: we see what’s happening, but we’re only watching passively, and we’re completely detached from it all.

It’s starts out promisingly enough, with Johnny Depp once again stepping into the role of Thompson’s surrogate, this time named Paul Kemp.  The story is set in Puerto Rico in 1960, with boozy writer Kemp arriving fresh from the States to work as a reporter for some local rag that is slowly going the way of the Dodo.  Kemp is serious about being a journalist and wants to tackle important stories, but his cynical, toupee-topped editor (Richard Jenkins) just wants him to write fluff about fat American tourists at bowling alleys.   Kemp isn’t particularly happy about this, but just keep the rum flowing, and he’ll be fine (hey, sounds like me).

Eventually, he crosses paths with wealthy douche bag Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), who, we eventually find out, wants Kemp to write promotional pieces for an island resort that he’s trying to interest investors in.  Kemp becomes involved with Sanderson’s beautiful girlfriend, Chennault (Amber Heard), and soon discovers what a shady guy Sanderson really is.  It’s then that Kemp sets about finding a way to bring him down, with the power of the printed word.  All the while, the unfocused narrative sends Kemp on a series of misadventures with fellow alcoholic writers Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi) and Sala (Michael Rispoli).  These include scary altercations with gringo hating locals and accidentally setting a cop on fire.  Sometimes the antics rise to the level of mildly amusing, but never beyond that, and not often enough.

And again, that‘s the dang problem. The Rum Diary is the most bewilderingly boring film I have ever seen.  Overall it’s about Thompson discovering his voice as a writer, and that certainly had the potential to be a fascinating story, but the execution is just so Goddamn blasé that it‘s actually frustrating to think about what a squandered opportunity this movie is.  The actors do try, with Depp back in the Thompson role.  Only this time, instead of playing zany, drugged out Thompson, he’s playing restrained, drunk Thompson.  His performance is very understated, and sadly, that only adds to the film’s lack of dramatic oomph.

Eckhart is perfectly cast as the sleazy, rich slime ball, but the movie didn’t make me care enough to hate him.  Ribisi and Jenkins actually are funny as the more lively and eccentric characters in the piece, but they couldn’t salvage it.  Heard is not bad to look at, but writing wise, her role is terminally malnourished.  Here, she is eye candy, and nothing more.

This is a project that Depp, who also produced, had been nurturing for a long, long time, at least a decade, and I really wish the end result would have been more worth his while.  I wish it had been more worth my while, as well.  Gilliam’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was certainly not a perfect film, but it was also certainly never boring for a second, either.  The Rum Diary just runs on the same flat tempo all the way through to its utterly “so what” ending.  It’s not funny enough to keep me entertained, as comedy-wise, all the best bits are in the trailer.  The limp attempts at drama are not engaging enough to make me care, and all I was left with at the end were two hours that I wished I had back.

(1 People gave this 1.00 out of 5)

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“Something elusive”

Click here to jump to the Swift’s Notes (AKA Cliff’s Notes) Review!

Swift shot:  In 1977, I was three years old, so there is no way I could have possibly seen Star Wars in theaters . . . but, I did.  I was probably four when my dad took me in his yellow MG convertible, the kind you had to snap shut, and (perish the thought) I sat in the front seat . . . with only a seat-belt to protect me, well, that and my dad.  Funny how we overlook the most important part of child safety, the parent!  Still, we went, and the roads were wet, and the air was kind of musty outside, like after a dog shakes and there is a light fog in the air.  I was really small, and the world was still new and exciting to me, I believed that anything was possible.  After I saw Star Wars, there is no denying this, I wanted to know what made Darth Vader so evil. Even before I saw Empire Strikes Back, I can remember being secretly happy that Vader didn’t die in the final battle in A New Hope.  He was . . . interesting, and I was compelled to know more about him.  Twenty-two years later, I would finally have a third of his legacy revealed.

Stavanger, Norway – the year was 1999; I had just gotten back from Albania, where I was doing Counter-Intel work for NATO where I saw more than I care to admit.  I saw humanity’s inhumanity.  With that backdrop, I was well ready for something to take my mind off of reality and to just be child-like again.

The film was released already in the states, it released in May, and it hit the can in August in Norway.  I had given strict instructions to every single American that I knew to reveal nothing to me . . . on pain of death!  Maybe the tone I took was sufficient, because no one revealed anything.  But, now we have all seen the film, and we are now thirteen years later, where all the questions have been answered . . . and then some.  So, I won’t pretend you haven’t all seen the film, and I will violate my rule of making spoilers verboten.

Let me start my defense of the film thusly.  When I was in high school, it wasn’t cool to like Bon Jovi, or Bon BlowMe as my friends and I all called them, because we were so damned cool.  But, years later I found out that we were all closeted fans, would go home and jam out to them, all while faking the funk back in school.  And, I think, that is what has happened with Phantom Menace.  I think it has become derivative to say you don’t like it, because of one stupid freakin’ Gungan! Ask yourself, honestly, when you saw it in 1999, was it so incredibly bad then?  Or were you sucking at the Lucas teat and waiting for whatever he would squeeze out, teasing you in anticipation of Episode III?  If nothing else, did not the film get your butt into the theater for Attack of the Clones?  I thought as much.

This first film holds a special place in my heart for being the first piece of a greater puzzle to make up arguably the most hated villain in Hollywood . . . Darth Vader.  When we first meet him, Anakin Skywalker is a slave boy who has dreams of grandeur and adventure . . . but he also is incredibly protective of his mother.  Is this fear of loss the thing that will finally make him the sinister lord of the Sith?  Well, you already know the answer, but I didn’t in 1999 – and neither did you!

Starring the incredible [Academy Award Winning] Natalie Portman as Padme/Queen Amidala and casting Ewan McGregor as the legendary Obi-Wan Kenobi was a master-stroke for Lucas.  Liam Neeson, no stranger to audiences now, and back in 1999 had a fair film resume and lots of hungry fans, plays Master Qui-Gon Jinn with Ahmed Best providing some exceptional voice-over work as the oft-derided Gungan Jar Jar Binks.  The pivotal character though, had to be a boy, had to be believable, and had to be someone you cared for in the end.  Jake Lloyd, all of ten years old had to step into some of the biggest, darkest boots Hollywood has ever created.

Could you have done better . . . at ten?  Hell, could you now for that matter?  There was one scene he had to get right . . . and he did!  When Yoda says there is much fear in Anakin, and Lloyd is looking at him with pure malice, that is one of the finer scenes of any young actor.  If he blew that moment, however subtle, it would have ruined the film for me.  That is the essence of Vader, he is an egoist, but he protects those he loves . . . anyone else is just in the way.  In that moment, Lloyd nailed it . . . at ten.  So, put that in your pretentious pipes and suck deep, cynics.

There has a been a lot of talk about Portman not doing a good job, bull, I think the scenes where she was being a queen, she was directed to be regal-sounding or something, and given that a lot of the work was done with a blue-screen, I think she did enough with what she had to work with.  Also, she had to alter her voice etc. to not make it obvious that she was Padme.  I must admit, in 1999, I didn’t know it for sure until she was washing R2-D2, after being (comically) ordered to clean the heroic droid by the “queen.”

Which brings us to the synchronicity quips of so many “critics” – it was “childish” to have C-3PO created by Anakin and to have R2-D2 already introduced in the series.  It was lame to have the force described in an organic, scientific fashion, and why did Lucas feel the need to force racial stereotypes in this film?  Because it is a film . . . it is a series driven by fan admiration, he was going to the candy store, maybe he did it one time too many with making C-3PO’s maker Darth Vader, but I actually thought that was a nice touch.  When he was a ” child” he created a toy, a “childish thing”, but when he becomes a man, that childish thing leads to his destruction.  Impressive.  Good mythology there, don’t ya think?  Or, did you not catch that, because you were too busy hating a certain Gungan?

Also, on to the Gungans . . . did you hate them all, Boss Nass, Captain Tarpals, every last floppy-eared “primitive life form?”  Or was Jar Jar the only Gungan you wanted to kill?  Newsflash, he was supposed to be annoying, he was the comedy-relief, buffoon, hell, even Obi Wan wants to leave him and can’t wait for him to shut up half the time.

All this is why I didn’t hate the film, because this is how I was already dissecting it in 1999, I was intrigued with the story-line, the epic battles, the droids, and then there was this new guy . . . Darth Maul.  When he makes his first appearance, it is one of those great movie moments, and when he engages the second blade on his light-saber, tell me you weren’t four years old again and thinking, “That’s cool!”

What I really liked about his character though, and the fight scenes in particular with him, he doesn’t say anything.  There is no, I am your father, I hate you, I am Sith, your mother is so fat . . . none of that trash-talking.  He just goes right for the kill.  I LOVED THAT, even though the dialogue is what fascinated me about Vader in 1977, in 1999 the lack of dialog had me thinking, woah, that Darth Maul is one bad mutha!

Episode I – The Phantom Menace had rich characters, a compelling plot that sets up the motions to create the Galactic Empire, and a few strikes which can mostly be over-looked to make for an enjoyable time at the theater.  The cinematography, albeit mostly CGI, was state-of-the-art for its time.  The ILM team may have used a softer stroke on the special-effects to create a more raw feel to the film, like they had to do in 1977.  In effect, they got too good, and they show-cased their work to the nth degree.  Still, the overall immersive feeling to transport myself outside of my theater seat was still there.  A few stilted lines delivered by a less than spectacular Samuel Jackson, and one overtly annoying Gungan, weren’t enough to ruin the film.  Telling the first part of the Anakin Skywalker trilogy, where he is but a small boy, the film does a fine job laying out all the pieces that will ultimately lead to his betrayal and his transformation to vile Sith Lord, Darth Vader.

out of – Because I can’t give it NEGATIVE SIX STARS!!!!

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The “Meta” sequel to Rick Swift’s ‘favorite’ film of 2010!

The H-Bomb:  Wow.  Fine readers of iRATEFilms, I have seen some Baaad movies in my life.  Be it Princess Coppola’s recent pretentious non-movie, Somewhere, or the all time crud sucker, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4, I have plummeted to the deepest depths of cinematic depravity, and I have managed to survive most of them unscathed.  I weathered the uncensored international cut of A Serbian Film, and was able to laugh about it afterward.  I managed to sit through Irreversible, and managed to not only not get sick by all the spinney cam, but to actually love that film.  In fact, never, in the almost three decades of my movie watching life, has a film, no matter how hard it tried, made me physically ill . . . until tonight.

Normally I don’t sit down immediately after watching a movie to review it, but tonight, I have seen Hell with mine own two eye . . . and it is The Human Centipede II.  I knew enough about the first Human Centipede to know I had no interest in seeing it (I watched enough “caustic” video reviews of it to know the whole plot, including the ending, anyway), so what possibly could have drawn me to this “meta” sequel?  I don’t know, what draws us to smoke our first cigarette, or to try crack-cocaine, or to voluntarily eat at McDonald’s . . . we as human beings are sometimes just inexplicably pulled to things we know will be bad for us.  I knew this would be bad, and I had a plentiful supply of alcohol that I thought would help me through it, but Christ on his throne, I should have brought along a barf bag!

It happened at the extensive climax of the film.  Our “hero” has accomplished his “goal,” sewing up twelve people ass-to-mouth.  I had long passed the point of “I don’t give a fuck” and was just laughing my ass off at what was happening on screen . . . that’s when the film decided to wholly and completely one-up its predecessor in utter cinematic grossness:

[***SPOILER ALERT***] 

The “hero” goes up to the front human and force feeds her canned dog food through a tube.  This starts a chain reaction where each person sprays diarrhea into the mouth of the person behind them.  Then as a capper, the “hero” goes up to the lady at the end of the centipede and pulls down his pants, revealing his chubby little pecker wrapped in barbwire.  He penetrates her with his barbed-up thing . . . and  that’s when it happened . . . I gagged, then before I knew it, the contents of my stomach were all over the footrest in front of me.

[***END SPOILER ALERT***]

Congratulations to Tom Six, the writer/director of both Human Centipede films and real life Internet Troll, of all the gore-strewn movies I have seen, yours is the first to make me spew.  Fuck You!

Holy God, now that I have that off my chest, my review proper shall commence.  The Human Centipede II is a film that no person should ever, ever, EVER SEE!  If one ever had the option of watching this movie once or being water-boarded with un-flushed toilet water for twelve hours straight, I would, for their sake, recommend the water boarding.  Terrorists would not even fathom forcing infidels to watch this movie, because even they would consider it unconscionably cruel and unusual punishment.  Great Caesar’s Ball Sack, have I spelled it out enough for you people?!

Okay, I shall continue.  Ugggghhhh, is this “plot” even worth describing?  Fine, here it is, our “hero” is a short, fat, toad-crossed-with-a-slug like man named Martin (Laurence R. Harvey), hopefully no relation to Laurence Harvey of The Manchurian Candidate fame.  This human dung beetle lives a miserable life in a London flat with his horrible old witch-bitch of a mother, and works a solitary job as a parking garage attendant/security guard.  He’s a quiet type (in fact he never says a word the entire movie, though he does scream and make pig like grunts when he tries to assert himself) who apparently was molested by daddy, which is why he is apparently mentally challenged.  Oh, and he loves The Human Centipede, oh does he love it!  He’s obsessed with it.  He watches it on his laptop, when it ends he rewinds it and immediately watches it again, he keeps a scrapbook full of photos and notes from the movie, and he even wraps his schlong up with sandpaper as he beats off to the three way ass-to-mouth climax.

See, that’s what makes The Human Centipede II a “Meta Sequel” (latest bullshit term dreamed up by wannabe film hipsters), because it’s set in “the real world” where the original movie is just a movie, and this one is about the sad little fuck who worships it and its protagonist, Dr. Heiter, like gods.  In fact, Martin doesn’t just hold the fictional Dr. Heiter in high esteem, he takes detailed notes of Heiter’s ass-to-mouth methods because he aims not simply to follow in his footsteps, but to surpass him completely.

And that he does!  As I mentioned, he doesn’t get just three people chain-linked, but twelve!  Over the course of the film, he stalks his victims, some known to him, others complete strangers he chances upon in the parking garage . . . all in for a unfathomably horrible fate!  He incapacitates them, ties them up, and takes them to a dingy warehouse he “rented.”  Once he has all twelve, including one pregnant woman, he aims to finish what his make-believe mentor started!  Bring on the barf inducing climax I covered earlier!  Oh, and this time it’s in beautiful Black & White, because Tom “Sick-Fuck” Six thinks that makes it artistic!  Yes, it was a Black & White movie that made me toss my cookies.  Cannibal Holocaust, Day of the Dead, a B&W flick managed to make me do what you couldn’t.

I’m guessing this toad-slug Martin is the exact kind of person that director Six imagined would be the target audience for the first Human Centipede.  To that, I have to give it to Mr. Six, he’s probably absolutely, spot-on fucking right!  Martin is exactly the kind of anti-social, manic-depressive, psychotic, terminally fucked-up kind of individual who would enjoy and idolize these utterly worthless, witless, detestable sick-jokes masquerading as movies.

I just as soon assume Mr. Six had no fucking audience in mind, as he is a troll filmmaker, in the Uwe Boll mold, who is making these for what is known in the Internet parlance as the “Lulz.”  I honestly believe he made these atrocities simply so he could walk into a darkened theater with a pair of night vision goggles and laugh at all the people who are choking and puking in the aisles because of the wretch inducing garbage he created.

I can honestly think of no other reason why this movie exists.  I also can’t imagine why Ashlynn Yennie, one of the female stars of the original, agreed to come back to play “herself,”  who happens to be the object of Martin’s masturbatory fantasies.  Not only does she return, but she allows herself to be completely demeaned yet again by stripping naked, getting on her hands and knees, and becoming part of the twelve part human centipede.  Oh dear Ashlynn, I hope the money was worth it, sweetheart.

In case you haven’t caught on by now, people, I shall spell it out: I did not like The Human Centipede II.  Just thought I’d reiterate that, just in case one of you out there is more retarded than dear Martin.  Not just the worst film of 2011, not just the worst film of the past decade, but quite possibly the worst film I have ever fucking subjected myself to.  No, make that DEFINITELY the worst film!  Move over Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4, unholy piece of S-H-I-Tut that you are.  This is now the movie by which I will compare all other horrible movies.  I’m no prude, I can take the worst that cinema can dish out, but . . . again, this literally made me vomit!  It’s a reprehensible abomination, its existence is indefensible, and now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go clean the vomit off my footrest.

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Review by Alyn Darnay

Directed by: Jill Sprecher

Written by: Jill Sprecher and Karen Sprecher

Cast: Greg Kinnear, Billy Crudup, Alan Arkin, James Detmar, David Harbour, Lea Thompson

So I started watching this film and I said to myself, “self, what’s this all about?” It seemed dull, dull, and dullier. “What was Greg Kinnear thinking when he took on this role?” Then all of a sudden, the film takes this funky turn and I’ve fallen through the ice and am absorbed in the story up to my neck…and it keeps getting better and better. With rapid and unexpected plot twists and turns and a climax that just sings, Thin Ice is a small gem of a film with great performances and a crafty everyman story.

Very reminiscent of both (Fargo-1996) and (A Simple Plan-1998) for it’s Bible-Belt characters and wintery location, Thin Ice carves out a place all its own that holds your attention and takes you on a dangerous journey of deceit and double-dealing.

The story goes like this, a Wisconsin based con-man insurance salesman (Greg Kinnear), separated from his wife (Lea Tompson), broke, and precariously near the end of his rope, discovers that an elderly client (Alan Arkin), whose account he stole from a new associate, has inherited an extremely valuable violin from his ailing sister and is not aware that it’s worth $25,000. Hatching a plan to grab the violin and sell it himself, Kinnear tries to build a friendship with the befuddled old man. But Kinnear is hopelessly out of his depth and that’s when things start to get really complicated.

Kinnear is wonderful in his endless desperation, Arkin is masterful as the old man, and Billy Crudup is explosively dangerous as a locksmith caught up in the whole scheme. The writer-director team of the Sprecher sisters (Clockwatchers-1997), themselves Wisconsin natives, show they have an intimate knowledge of their subject and place it on the screen beautifully, warts and all. Good job Everyone.

Thin Ice gets all the elements just right, taking the audience on a wild ride with an abundance of cannily plot contortions combined with some wonderful comic touches that will have you agonizing right along with the main character. It is a solid, enjoyable film experience.

THIN ICE is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). Time: 97 min.

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A mindless bromantic comedy

Look, it’s Kirk’s Nemesis? – A Swift Thought

Girls, you may want to avoid this one, as This Means War wasn’t made for you. Not entirely. The first clue is the opening scene where we meet our intrepid heroes Tuck (Tom Hardy) and FDR (Chris Pine) at the tail end of their covert operation. Unfortunately, they forget to put the ‘c’ in ‘covert’ and the ensuing chaos has them end up riding the pine in the Los Angeles branch of the CIA offices until further notice, where boredom reigns supreme. FDR, a known lady-killer, and Tuck, a divorcee, are best friends as well as partners, so when Tuck decides to hit the dating scene again, FDR offers to gladly be his wing man. However, the closest Tuck will allow is a quick phone call to let FDR know if he needs an extraction or not.

What follows is a little perplexing. Maybe I’m so far gone from the dating scene that what transpired seemed odd and in reality is perfectly normal, or maybe the writers had no concept of a first date at all. Enter Lauren Scott (Reese Witherspoon), a product tester/blogger with a firm grasp of her professional life and no grasp of her romantic one. Against her will, her confidante and best friend, Trish (Chelsea Handler) signs her up for a dating site that pairs her with Tuck, resulting in a 5-10 minute first date that to me seemed more like a meeting. Although the attraction is instant and the pair enjoys each other’s company, Lauren tears herself away so that she could…rent a video to watch alone? Never mind we’re to believe that in 2012 there’s still a ginormous video store conveniently located near the ‘meeting’ site, but we’re also to believe that she’d rather watch a movie by her lonesome than possibly catch a bite to eat with a man she finds incredibly attractive despite his gigantic protruding tooth? Of course we are.

Movie serendipity, also known as “convenient writing,” steps in so that Lauren can meet bachelor number two. At where else? The movie rental place. Despite calling the player on his game and putting up the Great Wall of China, Lauren finds herself accidentally pitting the two friends together by dating them both. In the face of a gentleman’s agreement on the best man winning, all hell breaks loose as both CIA agents use every government-funded resource at their disposal to spy on Lauren, and one another, to ensure neither get the upper hand.

Once you get into the shenanigans, you can ignore the contrived plot devices and shut off your brain as the action picks up. Director McG (sounds more like a DJ by the way) may try to convince the ladies that this is a standard romantic comedy, but I’m here to tell you that is completely false. It sails more on the bromantic comedy side of things as we quickly come to realize that the story is about two friends who put their friendship to the ultimate test only to find out that they truly belong together…In a non-gay way, of course.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

It becomes clearer that this is more bromantic at the climax, where – shocker! – Lauren learns of the two’s friendship, but instead of the typical rom-com trappings where we have to endure 10 minutes of sadness, pining, and profuse apologies followed by a heartfelt wowing speech that had us at ‘Hello,’ we’re met with explosions and stunt work . . . not that there is anything wrong with that!

As vapid as this movie was, I enjoyed it for the popcorn-flick it turned out to be. So guys, if you want to avoid another romantic comedy with your gals, take them to This Means War . . . and enjoy pulling the wool over their eyes.

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What is it they said about politics and bedfellows?

The H-Bomb:  It’s the Ohio Democratic Primary, and presidential hopeful Governor Mike Morris (George Clooney) is running neck-and-neck with his rival, Senator Pullman.  Despite having one of the best campaign managers in the business, Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman), and Zara’s wunderkind No. 2 Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), heading his campaign, Morris is still trailing Pullman by a few points in the polls.  A lot hinges on which candidate will receive the endorsement of Senator Thompson (Jeffrey Wright), whose recommendation will go to the highest bidder (meaning whoever promises him the best job in their administration).

Stephen is a 30-year-old idealist who has worked on more campaigns than most guys in their forties, and who earnestly believes in his Morris and all that he stands for.  One day, Stephen is contacted by Pullman’s campaign manager, Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti), who asks to meet him for a drink.  After some finagling, Stephen agrees, against his better judgment, to meet with him.  It’s during this friendly little talk that Duffy tries to convince Stephen that Morris is a lost cause and to jump ship and join the Pullman campaign.  Although Stephen more or less tells Duffy to go suck a duck, if word ever got out that he had a one-on-one meeting with the opposition in secret, it could be very bad for him, career-wise.

To make matters even more complicated for Stephen, he has started a relationship with a young campaign intern named Molley (Evan Rachel Wood), who happens to be the daughter of the DNC Chairman.  After answering an ill-timed phone call at two in the morning, Stephen finds out that Molley has a skeleton in her closet . . . a big one.

For spoilers sake, I’ll stop there, except to say that from there a whole lot of back stabbing, double dealing, and blackmailing ensues.  The kind that could destroy Stephen’s idealism and force him to take actions that he never imagined he would be capable of taking.

The Ides of March, co-written and directed by George Clooney, is a sizzling, sharply penned thriller that has, above all else, reaffirmed my own feelings towards politicians: I don’t fucking trust them.  Any of them.  Democrat, Republican, it don’t matter, they are all about as straight as Quasimodo’s spinal chord.  It’s a film that shows that almost everything that a candidate says publicly is scripted and rehearsed, even when they’re allegedly speaking off the cuff, and that winning elections isn’t all about how many votes you can get, but how many you can buy through backroom deals and shady power plays.

It’s fitting that the day before I screened The Ides of March, I watched, for the first time, Frank Capra’s, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.  These are both films about naive young men who enter the political world in order to do some good and become disillusioned.  But where Jimmy Stewart’s Mr. Smith managed to remain uncorrupted through it all (Jimmy Stewart cannot be corrupted), Gosling’s Stephen finds that he will have to “get down in the fuckin’ mud” if he wants to keep his career.  And that’s what it’s all about, folks, that even those who go into the political arena with noble intentions will eventually go bad because that’s the way the system is.  No one is immune.

This kind of cynical look at our political system is certainly nothing new, but this one does have an air of credibility to it in that it was adapted from the stage play, “Farragut North” by Beau Willimon, who worked on Howard Dean’s 2004 presidential campaign, and thus is savvy to the behind-the-scenes workings of a major political campaign in a way that your average writer is not.  How much is truth, and how much is drama, I of course can’t say for sure, just that I, with one exception I’ll get to in a bit, did believe it all the way through.

The dialogue and the drama all felt authentic, and the characters all come to life through the work of a uniformly excellent cast firing on all cylinders.  I was dumbfounded that Gosling wasn’t nominated for his incredible, understated turn in “Drive”, but after watching his powerhouse turn in this, where he’s actually allowed to speak, I’m convinced the Academy has something against the guy (maybe because he was once a Mouseketeer?).  Most actors in his age bracket would have shriveled up while standing alongside the likes of Hoffman, Giamatti, and Clooney, but Gosling managed to carry the film marvelously.  Oscar, dear boy, you are are this close to losing all credibility in my eyes.

As far the other names I mentioned go, they are all as brilliant as you would expect them to be, and since this is a true actor‘s piece, each and every one of them has copious moments to shine, be it Hoffman ranting about loyalty, or Giamatti warning Gosling to get out of the game before he ends up jaded just like him.  Of the whole supporting cast, it is Clooney, as smoothly charismatic as ever as the Obama-like Morris, who shines the most.  Watching him deliver a speech, I absolutely believe that he could run for office and win, if he so desired.  He also delivers with his assured direction, which is up for an Oscar.  His direction is slick but straightforward, focusing our attention right where it should be, on the actors and the story.

Which brings me back to that one thing I didn’t quite believe, the one aspect of the film that didn’t work; the fact that Gosling’s Stephen is pretty damn naive for a guy who’s allegedly worked on more campaigns than most guys a decade older than him.  Every time someone figuratively sticks a knife in his back, he is genuinely shocked.  He is thirty, not twenty, and one would think he would be considerably more wise to how ruthlessly cutthroat this business can be.  Like he himself says to one of his underlings, “This is the big leagues.  If you fuck up, you’re done.”

That one grievance aside, The Ides of March is a smart if surprisingly cynical drama that shows that there are no good guys in politics, there’s just the lesser of two evils, and good luck trying to figure out which one that is.  It is a fascinating, fantastically written film by an actor/director who is improving with each project, that deserves to be seen by more people than it has been.  Rent it today.

(1 People gave this 4.00 out of 5)

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“House Keeping”

Swift shot: I N T E N S I T Y – Intensity, Intensity, Intensity!

Ever have one of those “boring” jobs where you wish something would happen . . . anything, just to kill the monotony of your daily existence?  Well, Matt Weston, of the Central Intelligence Agency has one of those jobs.  He is a safe house keeper, meaning he provides an off the grid location for the Agency to put up friendly, and not so friendly, guests as the situation demands.  He has been the sole proprietor at his safe house in Cape Town, South Africa for 12 months.  Poor Matt hasn’t even had one guest stop on by.  Think your job sucks?  Director Daniel Espinoza does an excellent job in the opening sequence of developing the boredom so we can all relate, using a little Steve McQueen nod as well, right out of The Great Escape I should add.  And, escape is exactly what Matt Weston is seeking . . . escape from this most uninteresting assignment, ever.  Thing is, as the old adage goes, be careful what you wish for, especially when you work for the CIA, because excitement can come in many forms!  And in “Safe House” it comes in the form of CIA spook, legend, boogeyman (insert other cliched titles here) Tobin Frost.

I heard NBC’s Matt Lauer said this one is “non-stop action”, and the hell if he wasn’t dead on!  Other than the opening sequence where we feel for Matt (Reynolds) to have even one guest, something, anything significant happen, when the shit hits the fan, it really is non-stop, in your face close quarters battles, gunfights on the streets of South Africa, car chases, foot chases, explosions, snipers, knives, broken glass and whatever the hell can deliver violence.

Matt quickly learns he may, or may not, be on the wrong side of the equation when he first gets introduced to his house guest, Frost (Denzel).  Frost literally re-wrote the book on psychological manipulation for the Agency (AKA mind-fucking), and now he is a victim of his own design.  Frost has been a rogue agent for over nine years and specializes in selling secrets to the highest bidder, at this point he is not interested in being a patriot, he just wants his money and understands that eventually everyone betrays everyone.  But Frost has one rule . . . he only kills professionals.

Not since “Training Day” have I been pinned to my seat just waiting for the next sequence to shock me.  Some lady sitting next to me must have said “shit!” twenty times as things kept going blam, splat, or boom and caught her unaware each time.  Much like real violence, it is brutal and comes seemingly out of nowhere, because that is when it is the most effective.  I mean, how many idiots call out, “Hey, you!” before opening fire?  The action sequences were incredibly well shot, crashes were believable, characters actually get dirty, beaten and bloody.  Continuity in this film was tight!  Overall it was a full-throttle spy thriller with plenty of bad guys, bullets and bravado.

So, why not five stars?  Well, to reveal that might be to include a spoiler as I didn’t much care for how the whole thing finally played out in the end.  Also, there should be a rule for modern cinema, we can tolerate bare-assed Ryan Reynolds if we get a likewise bare-assed beauty in Nora Arnezeder (come on, she is French, so we know she isn’t prudish).  A glancing side boob shot is not gonna cut it, what happened to women’s lib?  Where is the equality!?!  Other than those two things though (pun intended), this movie has no flaws!  See it at the theater if you can, and if you have a kick ass system at home, more power to you, because this will be fun wherever you watch it.  I wish all “spy” movies were this good!

(Give us your rating!!)

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When married couple Paige (Rachel McAdams) and Leo (Channing Tatum) are in a terrible car accident, Leo is fine except for a few bumps and bruises, but Paige ends up in a coma (she had taken her seat belt off and she went flying through the windshield.  That’s why it’s important to always keep your seat belt fastened!!).  When Paige wakes up from her coma, she has brain injuries that cause amnesia, but she’s forgotten only the past few years of her life.  To put it another way, she’s lost all her memories involving her husband, who is now a stranger to her.

Paige is the love of Leo’s life, and in flashbacks, we get to see the little things that Leo does for Paige that make her fall in love with him.  For example, when she was at work with a cold, he left her a box filled with medicine, tissues, etc, and every object in the box had a Post-It on it with something he had written on it, all to make her feel better.  Or when he wanted Paige to move in with him, he didn’t just ask her, he spelled it out for her, in blueberries!!  What a guy!!  While Paige is recovering, we are taken on a journey through Paige and Leo’s relationship, from when they first met to their rather unconventional wedding (it looked like it was in a museum and they definitely weren’t supposed to be there, since the security guards chased them out).

One day, during Paige’s recovery, Paige’s parents Rita and Bill Thornton (Jessica Lange and Sam Neill) show up.  Leo has never met them, and it turns out that Paige had a falling-out with her family several years ago and hasn’t spoken to them since.  But, her parents see Paige’s memory loss as a way to have their daughter back.  Perfect timing, too, as Paige’s sister Gwen (Jessica McNamee) is about to be married.  Paige ends up moving back in with her family so they can take care of her.  This is not good for Leo and his plan, which is to get Paige to fall in love with him again (since her memory shows no signs of returning).

Unfortunately for Leo, Paige does remember her ex-fiancé Jeremy (Scott Speedman) who’s kind of a jerk (he makes a comment at Gwen’s wedding and Leo punches him in the face for it).  Now, Leo is NOT a violent guy, not at all, but between the stress of his wife’s losing her memories, his trying over and over to win her affection again, and his failing business, who wouldn’t deck a guy who pretty much vowed that he would sleep with your wife??

Will Leo succeed in his mission??  Will Paige regain her memories??  I’m not telling here because that would be spoilers!!   Overall, “The Vow” was definitely a chick flick.  I don’t know of any guys who even want to see this movie, which is fine, because it is totally geared towards women.  I liked it because while it wasn’t totally depressing, it was a little sad but had the right amount of light-heartedness to balance it out.   I wasn’t disappointed with the acting or the story; I thought it flowed well and didn’t drag or have anything unnecessary going on.

Interestingly (to me at least,) “The Vow” was quite similar to the plot of the final episodes of a certain spy-related TV series that just ended last month.  It was similar in that the main female characters had their memories wiped, but only the past few years’ worth, and their husbands had to try to make them fall in love with them all over again.   There have also been comparisons to another Rachel McAdams movie, “The Notebook”, which is a great movie, but “The Vow” is not as sad as that one.

A bit of trivia:  “The Vow” is based on a true story.  At the end of the movie, we get an update on the couple the movie is based on, but I won’t let on if they are a couple . . . or not.  I guess you will just have to find out for yourself.