Dudebro Gets Depressed After Watching Amour

Nope, they’re still alive. You know, for now.

Hey dudebros, I’m sad. I tried looking at porn for a while. Naked chicks usually cheer me up. Not today. Then I tried masturbating. Nope. Nothing. So I slammed an entire bag of pizza rolls. Still nothing. Then I got thirsty so I chugged a couple of beers. That made me drunk so of course I wanted to masturbate again. That just made me sad… again. Now I’m drunk, full on pizza rolls, and I’m going to die alone. I know this because Amour told me so. Earlier this week, I was my usual bad-ass-don’t-give-a-fuck-fuck-a-ton-of-bitches self. Now I’m all bummed out and depressed because I watched Amour. Fuck Amour.

Amour is a movie about this old couple. They’ve been married for years. And, as old people are known to do, the wife gets sick and the husband has to care for her. But the husband is old too so he pretty much just makes a mess of things while the wife shits herself for two hours. Then the movie is over and you’re left wondering what the point of life is.

The movie does its job perfectly. After all, the main goal of any film is to pull you in and make you care for the characters on screen. I liked these dudes. Sure, the old man was kind of an asshole and the wife is a ball of dying sadness, but they were easy to root for. Plus, the film gets point for showing a real side to life, the dirty parts of dying, that most films gloss over. 

That’s mostly accomplished through the efforts of the director. Homeboy barely lets us, the audience, leave these people’s home, so it becomes just as claustrophobic and depressing to us as it is for them. And, really, that’s all it needs. There are no flashy angles or cocky camera work, or even progressive narrative tricks. It’s mostly just two old people in a room waiting to die. Seriously, I need more beer. Just a sec.

Alright, back to being drunk, now where were we? Oh! Right, Amour works because it isn’t flashy but be warned, it’s also the film’s biggest detriment. Because, frankly, it’s easy to feel like nothing is happening. After all, you’re basically just watching someone die slowly. So, yeah that’s sad, but it’s also easy to let your mind wander to those strange dark places. That’s probably why even porn isn’t lifting this funk.

So, here I sit, drunk, gassy, and unable to watch Debbie Does Dallas. It’s a sad, cruel world, people. And the only thing that makes it a little happier happens to be youtube videos of cats. Hey, wait a minute, youtube videos of cats!!!! Of course!!! Nothing cures depression like cats running around like idiots. Boom. Problem solved. I’ll be back banging bitches in no time.

Grade: B-

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Last Stand

Oh look, he’s in a car… again…

Dying was the best thing that ever happened to James Dean. We love that angst ridden son of a bitch solely because homeboy made a handful of films then bit it before he could outstay his welcome. Now, I’m not saying I wish The Governator was dead or anything. Because I’m not a dick. But, at very least, he should have given up while the getting was good. Instead he makes us suffer through boring, lifeless throwback films like The Last Stand.

The Last Stand is about the Governator driving a car. Because he’s old. He can’t fight anymore. So it’s basically him in a car. Or him sitting on his porch drinking a beer. Or him sleeping in bed. Really, anything to keep him from actually, you know, using his wasted body. Cause fighting is a young man’s game. There’s a bad dude driving too. They drive against each other, but it’s not exciting. Then they stop driving and the movie’s over.

And, really, I blame the Expendables for this mess. For some reason, people are under the assumption the Expendables was fun, and lively. It wasn’t. Stop being fucking stupid. It was boring and depressing. Literally nothing happened except for Rambo sitting around yawning in a cave. But people ate it up, like it was a clever throwback to old action films. Now, apparently, it’s ok for the Governator to make his own boring action movie where nothing happens.

I’m not embellishing this either. I estimate around 80% of every action scene is a car chase. The Governator running dudes over or blocking people’s gun fire with a car. Over and over and over again. And, whatever, car chases are cool but it loses the entire effect when it takes up so much of the fucking movie. Really, I just feel sorry for the Governator. The dude can’t even fight. They final battle, taking place outside a car for once, basically just boils down to two dudes grunting on the floor. Again, because the Governator can’t actually fight anymore.

That’s why maybe he never should have come back. Maybe the dude should have just kept fathering illegitimate Governators and enjoy a day off. Cause there was a time this dude was the king of action. There was a time when I would be mad, crazy excited to see him explode some shit. But, now, eh. Now the dude can barely even lift his arms. It’s sad to see someone like that wither away instead of simply exiting stage right.

Grade: D

Gangster Squad

Man, Spicoli grew up into on angry dude, bro.

We’re friends, right? I can like, tell you things and you won’t laugh or judge me or anything? Cool? Cool. Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of balling a chick… I… you know… reach the finish line a little too early. And the chick’s all, “What’s wrong with you?” And I’m all, “Shut up, it’s perfectly normal! STOP JUDGING ME!!!” Then I go to sleep, cause orgasms make me sleepy. This entire experience also sums up watching Gangster Squad.

Gangster Squad stars Brand, from the Goonies. He’s all tired with hanging out with a bunch of stupid Goonies so me makes a time machine and goes back in time to create his own gang, a Gangster Squad. He also decides he wants to kill gangsters on his time traveling trip. He recruits some dudebros and they decide to take down Angry Spicoli. Violence ensues.

The problem with this film is that it rushes. Too much. Too soon. And, before you know it, SPLOOG, premature narrative gets all over your face, yo. The director wants this ragtag band of cop to be like a family, that they care for each other, that they’ve gone through some shit. That’s fine. Group films don’t work without the group actively liking each other. This is why the Avengers worked as a movie.

But you know how the Avengers got there? TAKING THEIR FUCKING TIME TELLING A STORY! The Avengers hate each other for the first two hours of the film. So, by the end, when they actually get their shit together and decide to kick Loki’s ass, it feels radical. The audience is fully behind them because they came together organically.

Gangster Squad takes a lazier, faster route: the needless time jump. The group meets then, out of nowhere, a quick jump cut later, they’re all best friends. It’s jarring and weird considering these dudes didn’t really know each other five seconds ago.

And it’s a short film too, considering the subject matter. It wouldn’t have hurt to throw in one or two scenes of these dudes bro-ing down so that, when we see them working together, it feels natural. Instead it just feels like the director got rushes and accidentally came too soon. And, as someone who is man enough to admit I’ve prematurely ejaculated a couple of times, believe me, shit gets awkward.

Grade: C-

Zero Dark Thirty

Seriously, you don’t want to fuck with her. She killed Osama, bro.

I love broads. Obviously, anything I can stick my big ol’ dick in is aces in my book. This includes but is not limited to: broads, most baked goods, pillows, and rabbit holes. But, I mean, there’s a limit. It’s not like I’ll fuck anything… ok… I will fuck anything. But somethings I fuck make me sadder that other things. Like, I hate banging weak chicks. In fact, nothing gets the ol’ big chub softer than a broad who is all soft spoken and anemic. Unfortunately for my throbbing boner, Hollywood hates strong females. Conversely, luckily for my giant cock (Seriously, I’m running out of adjectives for my junk.), Zero Dark Thirty has one of the strongest females to grace the silver screen in a long time.

Seriously, Hollywood hates broads. Or, maybe even worse, Hollywood doesn’t get them. They’re either all flighty objects of affection, like any character Meg Ryan has played. Or they’re hilariously cold and sexy, like every character Angelina Jolie has ever played. Finally, they’re just props used to decorate bland action movies, see Alice Eve’s current career projection. Chicks are reduced to one-note characterizations in all three of these scenarios. This is why the Bechdel Test exists. This is why critics lose their shit whenever a real female pops up on screen. Frankly, when a rad female shows up in a movie, it’s a reason to pop a boner… with my giant ass boner… I call him Sir Phillip of Cockington.

I suppose it took the greatest living female director, Katheryn Bigelow, to accurately bring a female to life.

That’s Jessica Chastain’s character in Zero Dark Thirty. (I know, I hate using the real names of actors too. But the chick hasn’t really tied herself to an iconic character that I can mock. So, out of pure laziness, she doesn’t get a nickname.) She’s rad in it. She’s like, “BAM, I’m gonna kill Osama Bin Laudin, fuckers!!!!!” Then other times she’s like, “I’m gonna kill that mother fucker, post haste, yo.” Basically, she’s a bad ass mother fucker. And she goes to the ends of the earth to get her man.

The entire movie is basically about obsession. How far a human is willing to go to achieve their goals. It’s kind of strange to see this flick get labeled as the, “Osama movie.” Because it’s about so much more. It’s a tightly wound character study starring one of the few live females to put on celluloid.

So, if you like broads, or if you just like seeing cool shit happen on a movie screen, Zero Dark Thirty is the film for you. It’s hands down one of the better films made this year. And one of the few truly great films to come out of the second Iraq War.

Grade: A

Jack Reacher

Mr. Ex Nicole Kidman REALLY wants you to join Scientology.

I get a lot of shit for loving Mr. Ex Nicole Kidman. I get he’s crazy as shit. And his religion is dubious at best. Whatever. I don’t care about your personal life. If you’re an actor, chances are you’re a crazy fuck anyway. What matters to me if you make good movies. And Mr. Ex Nicole Kidman makes good movies, man. The dude loves cinema. He works with vibrant directors, talented writers, and quirky character actors. It’s strange to me that everyone turned so quickly against him, insanity or not. Yet, if the dudebro is gonna make movies like Jack Reacher, I might turn against him too.

Jack Reacher is about this super hero dude named… uh… Jack… something. Anyway, he’s invincible and knows everything. This guy kills people and Jack shows up to clear his name. It’s all very expected and obvious. Worse yet, because he’s invincible, there’s little tension. This is why Superman doesn’t work, people.

Your hero’s gotta be fallible, make some mistakes, die if severely wounded. This Jack fellow, well, he’s portrayed as a myth. Dudes fear him. Chick bang him. In fact, he reminded me a bit of me. After all, I bang chick on the reg while fighting dudes with one arm. The problem is, I wouldn’t make a compelling film character. I’m too rad and people wouldn’t believe I existed.

It’s the same for Mr. Ex Nicole Kidman. While it is cool to see him act like a boss, it’s hard to believe anything bad can happen to him when he’s so untouchable.

Grade: C

Django Unchained

We’re boss, you know why? Tarantino made us more stylized than actual characters. Boom!

Let’s say I make the world’s greatest meatloaf. You like meatloaf. No duh, dummy, everyone likes meatloaf. It’s the tits. It’s meat and bread and vegetables ALL IN ONE!!!! So, wonderful, I’m making the world’s greatest meatloaf, you’re pumped as shit. Sweet, right? Now let’s say I made the world’s greatest meatloaf for a million more years. Day in, day out, just shoveling that wad o’ meat in your face every day for a million years. I’m betting you’re going to start throwing that shit up after ten consecutive years.

That’s the strange thing about great things. They’re only great in moderation. I mean, one of the key things that makes thing radical is not experiencing them often. Like, the Grand Canyon is only grand when you see it once ever ten years. Otherwise it’s just a fucking canyon. Fuck, I’m going crazy with fucking analogies, I’ll just cut to the quick. Django Unchained is good, ok?! But it’s got me fucking worried that Tarantino has turned into a caricature of his former self.

Ok, so the movie stars Ray Charles as a slave. And he’s all sad, cause he’s a slave and his wife got sold and shit. So then Hans Landa, German Nazi Soldier, buys him and turns him into a bounty hunter. You know, cause Nazi’s don’t give a fuck. They then spend hours, and I do mean three hours, trying to find Ray Charles’ wife who is being held by Bad Teeth Jack Dawson.

Again, great flick. I laughed. I cried. I masturbated into a popcorn bucket. You know, the whole spectrum of human emotions going on here. But, fuck, it was obvious, ya know? Dudes got killed. The score was retro. And the cinematography was, well, also retro.

But, while watching, I realized that I haven’t seen a new Taratino film since Jackie Brown. They’re all the fucking same!! They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but they’re the same. Violence! Sex Perverts! Weird German dudes! Repeat! Over and over again, meatloaf for a million years!!

And the Taratino positions himself as this giant artist, “I’m above other directors. I used washed up actors in my films. You should like me because I’m cool.” For the first time in his cinematic history, I’m not buying it. Ok, fine, you want to make another film, Tarantino? Great! Do something different. Write a small character piece about two dudes in a coffee shop, for all I care. But, please, seriously, learn a new a fucking trick. Cause, I swear, if you make the same film again, I’m not gonna give you a pass.

Grade: B

Wolverine: The Musical ( The Review of Les Miserables by a Philistine)

Don’t mess with him, Catwoman. He’ll claw you right in the fucking face.

The French, man. Who knew they could make a Wolverine musical be so sissy and bad ass all at once. I say sissy because, duh, it’s a musical. I say bad ass because Wolverine gets to be all, “RAAWWRRR, RAAWWWRRRR I’M GONNA KILL PEOPLE!!!!!!” I went to see this being all sad about seeing a stupid musical. But I walked out happy to see that Wolverine is still a violent mother fucker capable of tearing a dude’s asshole inside out.

It takes place in France. And, like, a King is there but, like, the people hate the dude or something. I dunno, something about history. So criminals are all over. And The Gladiator is there- I don’t remember him being in the X-Men comics but, I’m not a nerd so he must’ve been a bad dude like Magneto- to punish the criminals and for some reason he really hates Wolverine. So The Gladiator challenges Wolverine to a duel and Wolverine is all, “Snikt” But then he runs away because Wolverine is a pussy in France.

That’s when he runs into Catwoman whose working as a prostitute. (Epic win, Catwoman. You’re alright by my nuts. Keep banging them dudes.) She’s all like, “Batman banged me and ran away to fight the Joker. Now I’m dying from a prostitute disease. Take care of my child.” But, remember, this is a sissy musical. So she sings this part instead.

Now Wolverine isn’t a bad dude. He doesn’t kill anyone in this movie but he’s still willing to take care of a child. So him and child keep on running from The Gladiator and they sing songs all the while.

Now, I’m not exactly sure why a Wolverine musical had to be made. But I’m happy it was. Not only is Wolverine born with a golden voice. But he knows how to fuck shit up.

It’s basically the greatest way to get dudes into musicals. I know I fucking hate boring ass song and dance numbers. But, hey, when Wolverine is threatening to murder every son of a bitch on screen, I’m happy. Seriously, take your boyfriends, be all like, “I won’t fuck you for a month if you don’t go see this French flick where Wolverine sings.” So your dude will be all like, “Ok, I want to have sex. I guess it won’t be so bad if Wolverine sings.”

That’s the great thing about great movies. It doesn’t matter if you’ve got a dick or a vagina. A good movie is a good movie. And Wolverine: The French Musical is a good movie. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll see Borat covered in shit. Seriously, it’s got it all. So go ahead and watch it. There’s no Professor X or Cyclops cameos but, whatever. Wolverine is the coolest X-Man anyway.

Grade: B+

This Is 40

I’ve caught many an STD in my time but, thankfully, I’ve never had Starfish Junk.

I once sat in front of Judd Apatow during a screening of Step Brothers. It ruined the entire experience. It was Judd Apatow!!! In front of me!!! Who gives a shit what happened during in Step Brothers? I’ve been following this dude since Freaks and Geeks was still airing new episodes. I used to make everyone on my dorm floor watch Undeclared every week. He made a living off of dick a fart jokes. Of course I look up to the man. The dude rules!!! So I spent the entire film watching him, stalking him, catching the jokes that made him laugh out loud. It was magnificent.

Then after I went up to him, ready to gush my manly stone cold heart out. I was gonna be like, “Dude, bro, I fucking loved Freaks And Geeks.” Or, “40 Year Old Virgin gave me a laughter boner, bro.” Instead, hands trembling, I barely whispered, “I really like your films.” I was a pussy. I thought that that man was a God to me back then. This was, of course, before Funny People. And, now, This Is 40 proves that Apatow is only a man.

This Is 40 stars most of the people from Knocked Up. Hell, it stars most of the people in every Apatow movie ever made. The dude sticks with his buddies. It’s supposed to be a slice of life look at marriage. And I guess it is. There’s a lot of fights and shit. But it is unfocused, which makes it a pretty bumpy ride.

If you don’t look at the whole, how fucking blindingly unfocused the film is, each section is pretty damn funny. Don’t worry about that, bro. You will laugh. It’s inevitable with Apatow. The guy gets funny.

Some acts are even sad, like the scene where the married people have a knock down drag out fight in their bedroom that proves the chops of everyone involved. The acting is tight. The scene is focused. And the writing is relatable and real. It makes you with the entire film could be that rad.

But then it veers off and wastes time on subplots that don’t work, or jokes that misfire. And, before you know it, it’s been over two hours. Then you get all bummed and are like, “DudeApatowBro, get to the fucking point!!!!”

It’s a shame too. Everything about this should have been Apatow’s strongest work. He’s writing about something he’s intimate with. He’s got a top notch cast. The characters are likable. Jokes are absolutely there. This film shouldn’t suck as much as it does. But Apatow’s gotta learn a thing or two about pacing if he wants to hang onto his comedic crown.

Grade: B-

The Guilt Trip

See? He takes his mom places.

You know who likes going to movies? YOUR MOM!!! You know who doesn’t get to go to movies often? YOUR MOM!!! Wait, no seriously. Your mom really does like going to the movies. This isn’t some kind of tacky joke where I talk about banging her. Trust me, I treated her like a lady that night we banged. HAAACHHHAAA!!!!

But really, folks. Would it fucking kill you to take your mom to a fucking movie? And, no, not the latest explosion fest filled to the brim with tight-titted hot chicks. No, that’s the type of movie you take your dad to.

Your mom likes silly shit, feel good crap that doesn’t require too much thinking and won’t keep her up with nightmares. These kind of movies come out once or twice a year and it won’t kill you to take your mom. It’s the fucking holidays, damn it. Take her to a movie!!! RIGHT NOW!!!! The Road Trip is exactly the type of movie you should take your mother to.

The Knocked Up Schlep is this scientist bro and his mother travel across the country trying to sell science experiments or something. I can’t really remember. Honestly, this is a shit movie. But it’s a shitty movie your mother’s going to be all like, “Aw, that was cute. We should go to the movies more often.”

Cause sometimes going to the movies isn’t about you, you selfish prick. Sometimes you gotta take one for the team and be all like, “Eh, at least I’ll get some popcorn out of the thing.”

Grade: Take Your Fucking Mom