Bedtime For Gonzo

You must see this movie. It's a documentary about Hunter S. Thompson. WATCH IT! That's all.

DO NOT Rent This.

Seriously. I don't have words to explain the utter, well, badness of this movie. It's horrible. G-d offal, really.

It hurts me to say it but it's true.

Rent This.

I know, I know. You think you won't enjoy it. You think I only enjoyed it because it has 4 things going for it that I enjoy anyway.

A. Vince Vaughn

B. Comedy

C. Documentary

and, of course,

D. Vince Vaughn

You are wrong. Rent it. Is it the best movie ever? No. Obviously not. Is it well worth your time? Yes, if only for the extras.

Quick, like a bunny.

Sweet Lord, I love this movie.

"We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon. "

"Let's get down to brass tacks. How much for the ape?"

"What kind of rat bastard psychotic would play that song right now, at this moment? "

The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world. - Leonard Cohen

Can’t sleep. Can’t sleep. Can’t. Bloody. Sleep.

The worst part is that due to this fact I’m watching horrible movies. Truly. Not just funny bad but baaaad bad . When will it end? Why me, Lord?

Since Monday I’ve watched the following. Feel my pain.

Life After Tomorrow -
Documentary
Interviews with women who were in either the Broadway or road company of Annie. Apparently it really fucked them up.
Bonus: “Tomorrow” stuck in my head for about 8 hours.

Trembling Before G-d -
Documentary
Interviews of gay people who were brought up Hasidic Jews and either came out or live in the closet. Apparently it really fucked them up.
Bonus: The English guy was in the closet? Seriously? Wait. Hold on. For reallsies? If you say so.

Motel Niagara -
Drama
Can’t even explain it. It’s vignettes! Oy.
Bonus: Craig Ferguson is good even when he’s given about 10 minutes of screen time.

Rent -
Vomit Inducing Rock-Opera
You can’t hear me scream so I can’t explain how much I dislike this thing.
Bonus: “…for people with AIDs. People like me.” “Me too.”
“Take your AZT.”
“Your own blood cells betray…”
Wait. Does one of the characters have HIV? I’m sorry. It’s too subtle for me. Oy. I hate when I get hit over the head with a theme. Just sayin’.

Rock Bottom: Gay Men & Meth -
Documentary
Interviews of men who are current or recovering meth addicts. I’ve seen it before but I was bored so I watched it again.
Bonus: No bonus. Just sad.

The Watcher -
Thriller
Psycho killer follows psycho cop to new city in order to torture him.
Bonus: Keanu Reeves & James Spader are pretty. So pretty.

Oh, shit. Rent is on. I have to go kick the screen in.

I Love It When You Walk Out Singing The Murders!

Bloody, bloody hell! I love this movie. It's perfection.

I just got back from seeing "Sweeney Todd" and what can I say? I knew I'd probably like it but I loved it to an (almost) sick level. From the openeing shot to the end it's beautiful and gorey and funny and touching and just all things that are to love.

Stephen Sondheim is the king and Tim Burton is a genius.

Best Parts Not Related To What Was Going On On The Screen:
1. The people behind us who left after fifteen minutes because...wait for it...."they keep singing"!
2. My cousin saying she loves a show that leaves you singing the murders.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like . . . Late November?

Seriously? Isn't November 28 a little friggin' early to air "How the Grinch Stole Christmas"? Do I walk alone in this belief?

The Misanthrope Goes To The Movies

"Particles of Truth" a Review of Total Crap
By Dark Fury

From the first shot you know that this is an art piece made by a woman who is totally and completely in love. With her own voice and face. It is about ninety minutes long and eighty minutes of that time is spent on close up shots of her looking pensive, sad, angry, etc. And, to make matters worse, the entire movie is shot with that oh so annoying "realistic" shaky camera work. I hate this like poison. I hate it, actually, more than poison. Poison has uses.

Have I ever mentioned why I hate C.S. Lewis? Well, in case I haven't, it's because he hits you over the head with the metaphore. This annoys me. A lot. Well, the broad who made this movie must love "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe." Her character finally finds redemption through a death bed renconciliation with her father who looks like.....wait for it.....Jesus. Seriously? Did I need that little clue to realize that this was the turning point in her life? Probably not. Well, not if I had been paying attention at that point which I wasn't because I couldn't take her friggin' voice whining on and on and on and the close ups of her face (sans make-up for that, again, realistic look) that also go on and on and on.

This film, for it is art and must never be called a movie, is unbearable. Truly. Every character is a mess. Every character is barely a character because the artiste who made the film/art piece/piece of crap can't be bothered to flesh out anyone or thing but her own meandering, maudlin, decrepit, predictable, pure shite story line. If you can even call it that since nothing happens. I deep down hate this movie. I may even hate the woman who wrote, directed, starred in and, for all I know, edited the damn thing.

In conclusion, if ever you need to know that life is worth living rent this movie. Once it's over and done with life seems sweeter. It's like the old joke.

Person 1: Why are you hitting yourself with that hammer?
Person 2: Because it feels so good when I stop.*

* I didn't say it was a good joke. I said it was old.