The Paostian Deal

Passengers
Anne Hathaway, Patrick Wilson, Andre Braugher, Clea DuVall, Dianne Wiest
Director Rodrigo Garcia
Writer Ronnie Christensen


Sadly this plane crashed straight into the "Whaaaat?" category. Not only was it a bit dragging, but disappointingly predictable too. Even when the story spun out of control you could still pinpoint how, when, where and with what dialogues the mess would be resolved. The only mystery that lingered was, "How the hell does Anne do her eye makeup?" My mum Nicole Kidman's version remains more fabulous. But at least the what-really-happened scenes in Passengers was scary enough—for aviophobics, that is. My twin sister Anne was the only lovable thing in the entire 90 minutes. And Patrick's eyes.



The Women
Meg Ryan, Annette Bening, Debra Messing, Eva Mendes, Jada Pinkett Smith, Bette Midler, Candice Bergen
Director and 2008 Screenwriter Diane English
From the play version of Clare Boothe Luce and 1939 screenplay of Anita Loos and Jane Murfin


The admirable point with this strictly estrogen-only flick was that it stuck to its original idea: women and "real beauty." Then again, if I were to use the silver screen as part of a campaign for a bath soap I'd not forget that it's still a movie and a skit-ish presentation of scenes isn't "real beauty" for your ticket's worth. It was almost like staring at a corkboard slaughtered with Post-its of the entire color spectrum. Well at least all the eye bag action in this Women was justified with that effing "real beauty" gig. I guess. That, but NOT how Debra Messing kept channeling Will & Grace the whole time.



Madagascar 2: Escape to Africa
Voice actors Ben Stiller, Chris Rock, Jada Pinkett Smith, David Schwimmer, Sacha Baron Cohen, Bernie Mac, Will i Am, Alec Baldwin, Cedric the Entertainer, Andy Richter
Directors Eric Darnell, Tom McGrath
Writer Ethan Cohen



What was MTRCB thinking, rating this movie General Patronage? Not only did Madagascar 2 escape to Africa, it also zoomed almost past PG-13 with all the adult humor splashed all over. Uh, "the union wants maternity leave"? Animals dating? A lion beating an old woman crazy? "Moto moto means hot hot"? JULIEN?? Thanks to flicks like these we can expect a smarter-ass generation of youth taking over in a decade. FUN!

They keep... slipping.

[ INSERT HUGE SMUG-LEY HERE ] and yes I'm talking particularly to you, you fat wannabe scum shit. I know you're reading this.

Bloat with envy, booger. Boo-hoo.

Only Respect, not a withered social life, not a laughable ambition, and most definitely

NOT a rotting stack of cellulite,

begets respect.

Think not what more you can give your underpaying, abusive company; rather what more you can pilfer from the bundy clock.


[ smiley ]

What's with power and why are we so afraid of it, when we confidently know we won't abuse it? Perfection may not exist, but I remain faithful that there are capable people who deserve more to be in power rather than doubtful passivity; if I may coin a term, that'd be blind fear, and it's synonymous to pointless. I am not one of them capable creatures, unfortunately, but I believe I have a friend who is.

Let's call her Obachma. And I hope she's reading this, because this will probably be one of the last few times I shall tell her this fact before I become an enemy:

You can do this.

And while I'm momentarily sharing in the Obamania happening in spots all over the globe—it's like a pre-Christmas Christmas atmosphere out there—I'd like to quote the new U.S. President in his victory speech and hope Obachma and a few more friends pick up some inspiration:

Quantum of Solace
Daniel Craig, Olga Kurylenko, Judi Dench, Mathieu Amalric
Directed by Marc Forster; Written by Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade

It was rather swift, but this 007 did manage a grand hour of realistic fist fights, amazing stunts, icky corpses, touching reunions and fabulous tailored wear. Or is that statement simply too much excitement over some tricky bridge to a promising Part 3? Anyhoo, divine hair styling for Daniel and Judi too!

City of Ember
Harry Treadaway, Tim Robbins, Bill Murray, Saoirse Ronan
Directed by Gil Kenan; Screenplay by Caroline Thompson

I'm not really sure what Walden Pictures had in mind putting together a cast whose names you can't pronounce without a degree in tongue twisting—that's "Sir-sha" Ronan for you—only to lead and lose you into a big world of vagueness. When a massive blackout hit the City of Ember into total darkness, it sure felt more preferred not to have the lights come back on.



Nights in Rodanthe
Diane Lane, Richard Gere, Viola Davis
Directed by George Wolfe; Screenplay by Ann Peacock and John Romano

It was actually a hit at "lonely and cheating wives:" Flirting men look sexy no matter their age; women are simply, comical. Plus they appear to regress to their teens at the tiniest interest in extramarital affairs. Acting was very good, but the Gere-Lane tandem didn't really seem right... Story was quite predictable, but it had a nice ending. Though I still wish they snuck in Gavin Rossdale's "Love Remains The Same" somewhere in the cuts.



Max Payne
Mark Wahlberg, Mila Kunis, Nelly Furtado, Olga Kurylenko
Directed by John Moore; Screenplay by Beau Thorne

A production design dollhouse which costumes were grander than the plot itself. And again: Mark Wahlberg was misplaced. He should really stop accepting roles entailing scenes of drama or any other involving strong emotions. That or he enrolls in speech and drama classes.



Eagle Eye
Shia LaBeouf, Michelle Monaghan, Rosario Dawson
Directed by D.J. Caruso; Screenplay by John Glenn, Travis Wright, Hillary Seitz and Dan McDermott

Chase scenes were too polished they were almost synonymous to Lea Salonga's fabulous singing. That and a disappointing ending stained what could have been a nice feather to LaBeouf's kiddy hat. Oh, yes: Shia is still a boy.



Body of Lies
Leonardo DiCaprio, Russell Crowe, Mark Strong
Directed by Ridley Scott; Screenplay by William Monahan

Very admirable how the writers bravely presented in such an expensive manner their pessimism on the world crisis that is war. While it is a non-girl flick, ultimately it also became a showdown on who pulled off the better botox: DiCaprio, or Crowe?



The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor
Jet Li, Brendan Fraser, John Hannah, Michelle Yeoh, Luke Ford, Maria Bello
Directed by Rob Cohen; Written by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar

This is Brendan's signature... everything, I get that (but gawd all his yelling was so... ugh!). But pretty please, we don't need any more boring has-beens: Jim Carrey currently owns that department. Hurray for Jet Li, boo for Maria Bello. Half-yum for Luke Ford.



Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2
Alexis Bledel, America Ferrera, Blake Lively, Amber Tamblyn
Directed by Sanaa Hamri; Screenplay by Elizabeth Chandler

That goddamn pants suffered the Sequel Syndrome almost miserably. Everything felt too fast it looked like the makers only wanted to get the whole Traveling Pants legend done and over with; they kept giving AND fixing ALL dilemma of all four leads and the effort was quite obvious that they seem to had forgotten it was a movie and not an HBO mini-series. (Nor a horror flick: Somebody give Alexis Bledel blood transfusion, quick! Or better yet, suck a few pints from Ugly Betty there already!) Props to America and Amber, but Part 1 is still way lovelier.



Tropic Thunder
Robert Downey Jr., Ben Stiller, Jack Black, Tom Cruise, Brandon Jackson
Directed by Ben Stiller; Screenplay by Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux and Ethan Cohen

This wasn't a movie. This was a long exercise for your decision-making skills: Do I like it, or not? Do I laugh, or not? Do I know research on Scientology, or what? Interesting opening sequence, though.



Igor
Voices led by John Cusack, Molly Shannon, Jennifer Coolidge, Steve Buscemi, Sean Hayes, John Cleese
Directed by Anthony Leondis; Written by Chris McKenna

Animators for film have yet to name the god among themselves, and sadly those behind this one seemed to lag. "What poorly-dubbed telenovela is this?" ran in my head long after I finished my popcorn. Oh well. I guess it's the price for giving up childhood in exchange for coffee and porn: You will never enjoy things simply for their cuteness ever again.

Somebody sent me a "Which angel are you? request" in Facebook. I haven't done anything to it yet but it significantly intrigues me. I dunno, do tell me, was I supposed to laugh?


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Local news reporters seriously need a new subject to tackle, really really really, especially with showbiz personalities. "TV and print supermodel shares hard experiences as family breadwinner." Like the rest of creation have it easy while she on the other hand needs to wear designer clothes and pout to earn money. To buy make-up and go to it's-not-Bora-it's-Boracay. Okay. How about this. "Overworked, underpaid mutt shares insanely unthinkable times striving not to roll eyes at headlines like that." Or maybe, just maybe, "Crap."


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Why do we talk that way? Like we need a couple more sentences to clear our point. Look, there it is: "like!" How come we always try to define stuff by like-ning them to other things? I'm not complaining, because I also do it all the time. "You irritate me. Like, I get itchy all over by the mere sight of you. Like, I wanna barf on your face if you don't leave now." It's just weird, that we cannot seem to be sure of things outside the convenience of back-ups of sorts, like we are to be basically doubted if we don't offer an alternate description, like we always need second proofs to everything... And there it is again! Crazy. Is this century that cluttered already? Or is nothing simply, like, original, anymore?


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Isn't it pathetic that my favorite Holidays song is "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas?" I dunno. Its melody always calms me down, especially when I'm about to show my heels up-close to another entity trying my nerves. There's even this weird version that would surely fit well in a bed scene for Scorpio Nights X... Anyway, I do that every time, actually, listening to those songs to pacify my hopeless barbaric nature, keeping me away from prison. Yes I'm a dwarf, uneducated bull. Too bad an iPod can only run for so long while the populations of dimwits biking on sidewalks and worms mistaking the moviehouse for a confessional keep growing by the second.


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I just finished Twilight and I never felt more pressured my entire life. I wanted to experience the book first before seeing my ex Robert Pattinson's movie version. The novel is romantic, alright, nostalgic even. But up until now it's still only the classic love story that should never stay long in the hands of future colegialas-beyond-repair: A needy slut and a smug, what did Stephenie Meyer call it, "forgotten Adonis." But I think I will love Alice Cullen in the future.


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Then I read in a magazine that our bodies naturally gain a pound each year. More than obesity, botany sent chills down my spine: So we're actually like trees, annually gaining a ring over the old wood? Ohmygoodness what about my jeans!


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Red alert: the "metrosexual" virus is evolving into a stronger strain and more and more confused souls are now posting nude, be-muscled photos in Friendster. I mean, What. The. Apparently, assuming the form of the Incredible Hulk—plus emulating the look of an angry, possessed Linda Blair, squinting so hard it almost hurts the beholder's nose; think Triple H pouting a la Tyra Banks—provides a more appealing cover-up for all the inner Pride. And a better chance to snag a weekly one-night stand. With a hyperacidic Dave Batista grinning like Angelina Jolie. To each his own, forever, but come on, gUys, it's really very hard to watch... and keep puking.


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All I know, is that I'm a headturner. I turn heads away. Seriously. Even random commuters' kids stare at me on the streets and I could read the curiosity in their eyes as if they were desperately trying to understand how frogs could be so big. What saddened me more, honestly, is that repulsive as I may be nobody still invited me to their costume party this Halloween when I could have saved lots on the outfit! As in, zero-expense... well maybe except cab fare. Darn.


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Fab hi's to Vera, GrannyMomCha, Bachlightyear, Glenn, Sweet Taray, Brownman Cat, Señor Helj, Splice, Jojitah and everybody else who's kept wasting time visiting this space despite the void. THANK YOU and... here I am. :]