Take This Waltz


“I’m married but, sure, you can hump me like a Great Dane.” – Jen From Dawson’s Creek

Sometimes, when actors get to a certain point of fame, either too low or too high, they try their hand at directing. Most suck balls. For every Affleck (Yes, he’s a great director.) there’s a Shatner or a Spacy (Who direct worse than they chew scenery.) to fuck things up. Take This Waltz is the second full length film by Sarah Polley and it manages to buck most preconceived notions I have about uppity douchebag actors trying to direct.

You probably know Polley if you grew up watching Disney in the early 90’s. She was a child actor, the main character of a bad ass Green Gables spin off: Avonlea. Look it up. They dressed like pioneers and do sweet ass things like drive horse carts and milk cows.  It was fucking awesome.

Anyway, she decided to direct a film where Jen from Dawson’s Creek cheats on the Fat Guy From Knocked Up. It’s not that she wants to but, well, she’s married to the Fat Guy From Knocked Up. And, sure, he’s funny but he doesn’t bang her much and it frustrates her. Then a Suave Artist moves across the street and begins to seduce Jen From Dawson’s Creek. At first she’s all, “Stay away from my cooter, you cad.” But soon enough she’s all, “Touch my coochie, you cad.”

There are also a couple of boob shots. SWEET!!!!!

It’s a pretty straight forward plot that’s helped by Polly’s simple direction. Polley doesn’t do too many fancy shots or rely on artsy fartsy bullshit to sell her indie. Instead she pretty much just allows her actors to do most of the heavy lifting.

That’s not an insult, especially with a film like this. It’s all character driven. There’s really no need show off when you’ve got a great cast.

Another area where Polley excels is the soundtrack. She picks songs with maximum impact and, sure, most of the time their typical indie-acustic-crap but, in the tone of the film, it works.

So, welcome Polley, to the halls of Actor/Directors Who Don’t Suck Balls. Go ahead and sit over there by Affleck for a while. You have my permission to punch him if he talks about Daredevil.

Grade: B+


The Dark Knight Rises


“Why, yes ladies, I do piss into mason jars. Thank you for asking.” -Bateman Batman

I have a severe problem. I’ve had an erection for the last 48 hours, ever since I watched The Dark Knight Rises. I should probably see a doctor about this but I know it’ll just come right back every time I think about Rises because it’s a perfect blend of high concept, popcorn fair, and sheer unadulterated testosterone.

The film picks up 8 years after Bateman Batman killed Harvey Dent. Bateman Batman has gone all Howard Hughes after the Joker killed his woman. They don’t specifically show him peeing in mason jars but I assume it happens.

I would have watched a scene with Bateman Batman pissing into a mason jar. It was a missed opportunity. But I digress.  

Anyway Bane shows up and is all like, “I don’t know how I eat with this mask on but I’m sure as hell gonna punch every citizen of Gotham in the face.” So Bateman Batman is all like, “Well, I guess I should stop pissing in mason jars and fight Bane for three hours.”

Other stuff happens too: the Kid from 3rd Rock From the Sun runs around shooting criminals while saving orphans, Commissioner Gordon takes a ride on a sewer water slide, and Catwoman has a semi-lesbian relationship with a chick. FUCK YEAH!!!!!!

It’s fucking awesome.  I mean, sure, it starts unwieldy. There’s a lot going on, tons of new characters  running around, and you just want shit to explode. But, as time progresses, things get tighter and tighter and you realize Rises was intentionally structured to imitate chaos slowly crushing in on itself.

But here’s the most awesome thing about this film: it’s the third. That alone should make it suck more nuts than a sorority chick. I can’t remember the last time I walked out of a Part Three and said, “Yeah, that rocked my man-tits off.”  Maybe Return of the King, but that doesn’t really count because those were all filmed at once.

The Director did a great job picking themes and plots from the previous two films so, instead of sticking out like my sore boner during this movie, the three films blend together in an almost perfect way.  

Even better: Princess Diaries Chick totally rocks as Catwoman. She’s such a funny, threatening, and don’t-give-a-fuck force.  Honestly, her performance reminded me of Han Solo. She’s a brash loose cannon with a heart of gold. Do you know how rare it is when Hollywood lets a woman be THAT awesome? Most of the time chicks are just inserted into a film to boost the male lead’s ego. It’s rare, and welcome, when Hollywood lets a chick kick ass in such an eager way.  Thank you Katniss, Black Widow, and Catwoman for showing idiot film execs that, yes, woman can also shoot people in the face and crack jokes. 

 Also, it’s important to remember how vital the third act of any film is. A good third act serves as a reward to the viewer, a thank you for sticking around. Yet few films actually do this. The Dark Knight Rises rewards viewer for watching the entire trilogy. Every scene, every line, and every explosion leads directly to a final ten minutes that serve as a warm hug for everyone who has watched series. More movies need this attention to detail and chicks that kick ass.   

Truly, this is the Batman film we both need and deserve…. Now if only I could get rid of this raging erection…

Grade:  A-

A Moment of Silence Before We Get Back To Jokes

“I believe movies are one of the great American art forms and the shared experience of watching a story unfold on screen is an important and joyful pastime. The movie theatre is my home, and the idea that someone would violate that innocent and hopeful place in such an unbearably savage way is devastating to me.” – Christopher Nolan 

I’ve been waffling back and forth about addressing the shooting. After all, this is a tongue and cheek humor blog where, my love of movies aside, I pretend to be a misogynistic asshole with a big dick. Obviously this isn’t the place to come for insight or solace. Except, the shooting took place in my home, to my townsfolk. Tomorrow I promise I’ll get back to dick and fart jokes but, for today, I need to decompress for a second.

I live in Aurora.

I love the Century 16.

I can’t count the number of times I visit that theater. The staff is friendly, the patrons are generally polite, and the prices are amazing. Plus, they serve kettle corn, I love anywhere that serves me kettle corn as a general rule.

I’m there at least once a week, usually more. Honestly, I visit there so much, Friday morning I was inundated with phone calls from friends and family checking that I hadn’t gone to that showing. It was, statistically speaking, pretty damn likely I would have, should have, been there, especially for Batman.

It was a home of sorts and that troubled young man took a place I adore and irrevocably warped it. He took what should have been a sanctuary and turned it into a tomb. But this isn’t about me. And I don’t want this to be about him either. I want this to be about cinema and it’s power to bind us. 

Friday night I attended a late showing of Dark Knight with my fellow residents of the greater Denver area. The theater wasn’t empty by any means but certainly not as packed as you’d expect considering the film. Thoughts and prayers for the victims were certainly on our minds, there was a feeling of community in the air. It was palpable. We gathered, almost defiantly and, for almost three hours, we were the same. It was a celebration like the midnight viewing at the Century 16 should have been.

That’s the power of movies: age, race, religion, don’t matter during a great film. You’re all together, in an almost religious way, experiencing magic. Sure, after, you’re strangers again and go back to your regularly scheduled lives. But during you’re connected in a way society rarely does anymore. 

So don’t give up on film. Yes, I know it’s kind of scary sounding now. But nothing has changed. In fact, this should bring cinema lovers together in full force. Go out and see a movie as soon as possible. This lone gunman needs to be taught that the purpose of film is to unite us, not divide. 

Magic Mike


Pffft… you call that a six pack, Mike? My ass is more toned than that.

Holy shit, dudes, bros, someone made a fucking movie about me!!!!! It’s all about this Swinging Dick Pimp with rock hard abs and dance moves that make angels cry. He also bangs a shit ton of chicks cause, let’s face it, that’s just how pimps roll.

The only thing not accurate about the film is the actor. They a dude way less attractive than me to play me. They got that Nicholas Sparks Dear John dude. I mean, whatever, he’s proven he can be funny and likable. He just doesn’t have looks that can melt panties off hotties like I can.

Really, there’s not much of a plot. Nah, it’s too indie for that. Instead we’re treated to fun dance numbers and lots of parties while Magic Mike tries to bang his best friend’s sister. That’s it, no fuss no muss.

But, other than these minor quibbles, Magic Mike is pretty alright, you know, for a movie about a bunch of greased up naked dudes. This is mostly because Ocean’s 11 Director. He’s got a gritty style that works for a film about the seamy underbelly of hot dudes, even if the film barely touches upon said underbelly.

But that unseen underbelly is hinted at in almost every shot, the grainy camera shots, the low lit club scenes. Yes, these dudes look good and get to bang hot chicks, but Ocean’s 11 Director never let’s you forget they almost all probably have herpes.

This realism lends itself to the, at times, to painful fucking dialogue a second grader could have written. I mean that as a compliment. These dudes are strippers, probably dropped out of high school, definitely snort a lot of drugs. There’s no way they’d give long speeches or witty banter normally reserved for these kinds of chick flicks. Instead they stumble and mumble in an amazingly real way.

I dig that. I dig any movie that doesn’t try to hide behind glitz and glamor. Plus, it’s a bonus if the film happens to be based off my real life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some broads in my bed screaming at me to tear my shirt off.

Grade: B-

The Amazing Spider-Man


This is how you do Spider-man, Raimi.

When I was a Little Dudebro, before I was banging all of the chicks, before I knew how to shotgun beer, before I even knew what Willis was talking about, my mom made me grilled cheese sandwiches daily. Rain or shine, no matter what else we had in pantry, I wanted fucking melted cheeses on fucking buttered toast.



She tried to get me to eat other shit, but fuck it, I was a Grill Cheese Baller. After a while she just gave up and accepted that her place was in the kitchen, not making choices for dudes.

Fast forward two years, I was an Older Little Dudebro. I had gotten one or two hairs on the old ball sack. I started sneaking pops’ porn stash. And I became quite adept at masturbating to Nirvana so my mom wouldn’t hear me. In short: my tastes matured. I was no longer a grilled cheese child. I wanted other things. But my mom was so used to making me grilled cheeses that she kept right on making me grilled cheeses.

This is how Hollywood works. We want something. They make it. We grow tired of it. They keep making it. They’re always a step or two behind. Film, by its very nature, lacks the immediacy of television. 

This, and hundreds of legalities involving copyright laws, is how The Amazing Spider-man got made.

Now, fuck the fanboys, I don’t give a shit if a movie’s a reboot, a preboot, a re-pre-mid-post-boot. I care if a movie’s good. So, sure, we could go for hours on if the film was necessary  but that seems futile and, frankly, to fucking geeky for the purpose of this badass-chick-fucking-blog.

Nope, we’re honing this review in on a simple fucking question that every movie comes down to: is it good?


Fuck yes.

A million fucking shitty superhero films over: the Amazing Spider-man has all the right moves. Looking back on Raimi’s film, it’s amazing how hollow it feels now, like it was too preoccupied with being campy to actually tell a story.

The Amazing Spider-man grounds most of the character, if not the story itself, firmly in the real world. And, more importantly, the director makes Peter Parker a dude you’d want to take a swing with.

For the real humans out there, not the comic douchebags, Spiderman is about a kid who gets bit by a magical spider that grants wishes. The boy wishes to have spider powers, I guess, cause next thing ya know he’s sticking to walls and spooging out webbing from his dick. He also meets this dude who’d rather have an arm than a cock, so he shoots himself up with lizard jizz and grows an arm while losing a cock.

Anyway, they fight a bunch and that’s fucking rad. Sometimes you’re like, “Fuck yeah, I’m gonna punch everyone in the face this is so hella cool.” But, make no mistake, the meat of story actually is what happens when one of the creators of Facebook tries to bang the Superbad Chick.

 Because, I mean, that’s what being a super hero is actually about, right? Why save the world and shit when you can fuck hotties? Or, better yet, save the world AND fuck hotties. Luckily Facebook Peter Parker has got things on lock and has enough charisma for you to forget Toby Whatshisname.

Grade: B+


Seriously, how does he fuck chicks?

Sometimes when an artist gets good at something they get lazy. Ahem, I’m looking at you Adam Sandler, George Lucas, and Weezer. This holds true for that Peter Griffith sounding dude who makes Family Guy. Sure, die hards will defend it, say it’s still amazing, but you can see it in their eyes: even they don’t believe anymore.

It extends further than Family Guy too. Every cartoon that dude touches just screams of lack of effort. This is what happens when Fox gives you a truckload of money. He’s only human after all. Ted somehow circumvents the problems of these cartoons and somehow manages to be a pretty fucking funny ride about a man’s friendship with his teddy bear.

What problems in specific?

Well, for one, there are very few throw away gags, which is pretty much all Family Guy relies on. There are a couple of disconnected scenes, like one where Marky Mark remembers his own awesome dance skills.

Family Guy also has the uncanny knack of not comprehending how nihilistic it actually is. This isn’t an assault on nihilistic comedy. It’s Always Sunny proves you can be hilarious while having a pitch black heart. No, Family Guy suffers because it doesn’t know it has a pitch black heart. It tries to have sweet family moments in between jokes about dumpster babies. It makes me think Peter Griffith should be beat over the head with my Tone-Stick. So he can learn to pick a tone and keep to it.

Luckily, surprisingly, Ted has a fairly deep heart. The plot doesn’t lose focus like so much of Peter Griffith’s other work. In fact, the trailer is almost deceptive, it insinuates that the plot will be a one note joke about a sex crazed bear. And, sure, there are a lot of jokes at that expense, but the film mostly takes Ted seriously as a character.

Plus, that chick from That 70’s Show is in it and she makes me want to scream at her vagina for hours.

Grade: B-

Safety Not Included


Seriously, everyone should want a piece of Dour Parks and Rec Chick.

I get pissed off when nerds bitch and moan about how hard it is being a nerd. “Boohoo, poor me, I’m smart and live in a decade that caters to my every lame-ass whim. I’m going to drown my tears in episodes of Dr. Who. Then blog about Dr. Who. Then masturbate to thoughts of Dr. Who.” Stop your whining. You want to know what’s hard (besides my cock)? Being Captain of your varsity football team, prom king, and fucking three chicks at once. That’s hard. That’s real pressure. 

As such, full disclosure, I go into films that self pity the nerd condition with pure skepticism. Especially when they star that dour hot chick from Parks and Rec. I also don’t understand how this girl has gotten type cast as an outsider when virtually every dick I know is waiting to plow her in half. She’s hot. She’s funny. And it makes little sense that she would ever play a frumpy outcast.  

This time she stars in Safety Not Included, where she stalks this dude who claims he can time travel. As far as quirky films go, this one gets it right. It broke down my skepticism with an honest to goodness, and refreshing, theme that focuses on regrets more than being an outsider. 

Cause deep down every good film should be servicing the theme, the idea, the mission statement. Every character, every scene, every pompous indie shot is dedicated to furthering the conceit. Most films lose track of this. Safety Not Included practically beats you over the head with how fucking important it is to the structure of the film. 

Because every character, even the minor ones, seem to have, and be able to talk about regrets and the emotional scars they can leave. It sounds depressing, I know, but it’s not. It’s a fucking hoot from start to finish because the writers are able to protect their soft underbelly with a hilariously cynical exterior.

The structure of this films is efficient and layered. It’s so smooth that once the delightful final act rolls around, you should be smiling with wonder.

Unless you’re a nerd. Then I’ll just punch you in the nuts, full on cock shot.

Grade: A-