This past Friday, some friends and I were out at the bars and decided to finish off our evening at a club (it was The Brat (gotta love a place that can smell over-poweringly like disinfectant while still being so tangibly dirty, in more ways than one (I’m looking at you, several couples making out on the dance floor (Inception joke)))).  Shortly after our arrival, the DJ announced his intention to schuck the typical top 40 nonsense in favor of atypical and old school material, including some punk.  He then proceeded to play “All the Small Things.”

Now, obviously this is patently ridiculous (even though everyone loved it, myself included), because while, yes, Enema of the State is 12 years old, to ascribe the moniker of “Old School Punk” to it is to demonstrate a definite misunderstanding of old school punk.  But it got me thinking about the album, and the next day while at home, I gave it a listen for the first time in who knows how many years.

It still holds up for the most part.  Unfortunate juvenilia runs a little rampant, but I actually found profundity and maturity where I hadn’t noticed it before (maybe because I wanted to find it, not necessarily because it’s actually there).  “What’s My Age Again?” skirts childishness, but is actually just self-aware enough to recognize that the protagonist’s actions are not befitting an adult.  “Going Away to College” is a surprisingly deft examination of late-teenage angst and the aforementioned “Small Things” is a bouncy and touching song about the little moments that can make a relationship so great.

But despite all of this, there is no denying the intensely thick layer of sugar that coats the album from front to back (“Adam’s Song” aside).  Enema is a slick album, one that was manufactured for mass consumption, and to genuinely describe it as “punk” is misguided.  And yet, this was the album that marked my head-first dive into that wonderful thing we know as punk rock.  I had spent junior high listening to rap and nü-metal (I am not proud of this), and when blink came along, I finally had something that actually stirred something inside me.

Do I wish my first punk album was something other than Enema of the State?  Something like Milo Goes To College, Never Mind The Bollocks, London Calling, or Zen Arcade?  Sure.  Absolutely.  But that wasn’t going to happen.  After spending 8th grade listening to Significant Other on the bus, there didn’t really exist a situation where the Misfits or Jawbreaker or Bad Religion was going to come into my life.  No, my first step into punk rock was always destined to be a shaky one, and it just so happened that the time I was ready for something different aligned pretty neatly with blink’s rise to superstardom.

And boy, was I hooked.  I can remember hearing “What’s My Age Again?” and “All the Small Things” back-to-back for the first time, and feeling a reaction deep in my gut.  It was fast, it was immature, and it was (at least to my 13-year-old ears) reckless.  But most importantly?  It was fun!

You know earlier, when I said I spent 8th grade listening to Significant Other?  That wasn’t an exaggeration, every morning and every afternoon, I spent the bus ride buried in headphones listening to Fred Durst yell at me, because I didn’t have any other music to call my own.  And if you want to get a clear picture of how powerful pop-punk can be, listen to Limp Bizkit for a year.  Cathartic doesn’t begin to describe it.

After having formed no serious musical opinions for myself, and instead listening to whatever my friends (who were soon to stop sharing my musical tastes for the remainder of our youths) were listening to at the time, I had finally found something that I loved, not because it clicked with someone else, but because it clicked with me.

Enema served as my springboard into, first, other pop-punk bands like Green Day, New Found Glory, Sum 41 (shut up) and several forgotten bands that disappeared as quickly as they sprang up.  From there came third wave ska (Less Than Jake, Reel Big Fish, Catch 22) and emo, mostly of the Drive Thru Records variety (I was big into Something Corporate, The Starting Line, and Allister, all who have gone on to bigger and better things pretty much nothing (okay, Something Corporate led to Jack’s Mannequin)).

And gradually my tastes hardened and I longed for more aggression, a desire you could probably trace back to Rancid (seriously, how is …And Out Come The Wolves so freaking awesome?).  From that came my eventual forays into The Sex Pistols, Minor Threat, and the Misfits (find me a better punk album than Walk Among Us.  Go.  Right now.  I’ll wait.).

And somehow, all of this has lead me to where I am today, a reasonably well-rounded and well-versed music listener.  Someone with CDs by Jawbreaker, Brandi Carlile, The Hold Steady, Reel Big Fish, and Bon Iver in his car.  Someone who will readily karaoke The Dead Milkmen and Frank Sinatra in the same night.  Someone who is hungry for more.  And strangely this can all be traced back to a candy-coated, crassly titled, pop-punk album by blink 182.  And so for that I say this: Mark, Tom, and Travis, I don’t really listen to you anymore and you pretty much suck live, but I owe you everything.  I will always kind of love you.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

It’s time for another Blog-A-Thon from Marc over at Go, See, Talk.  The challenge this time is to make a top ten list of classic (1930′s through 50′s-ish) black and white films (he was pretty specific about the black and white, otherwise this list would almost definitely include Singin’ in the Rain or On The Town or both).  My list is not exactly a “top ten” list per se, it’s more of a sequence, in that these movies are not ranked by quality or my affection for them, they should, instead, be viewed in the order that they are laid out.  Essentially I’ve planned a ten-movie marathon for you.  Enjoy.

12 Angry Men – Well, you can’t just jump right into the cold water, can you?  Ok, you can, but for my purposes, you can’t.  You gotta wade in.  And you start by watching Henry Fonda and company navigate the perils of personal prejudices and a sweltering jury room on their quest for justice.  You’ll feel their relief as they reach a verdict and step out into the cool evening air.

The Big Heat – I swear I’m not messing with you.  I know a movie called The Big Heat does not sound conducive to “cooling off,” but the fact is, this movie is so tightly-plotted and fast-paced, that I’m surprised there’s not a breeze coming off of it as it as it goes by.  Also, let’s see you complain about being warm as Gloria Grahame gets a faceful of hot coffee.

The Lady Vanishes – After the brutal violence and bleak world view of The Big Heat, you’ll need a bit of a palate cleanser.  Enter Hitchcock’s masterful comedy-mystery.  As far as Hitch films go, The Lady Vanishes is a bit of a trifle, but it’s also hilarious and one of my favorites.  The perfect distraction from the heat.

It’s A Wonderful Life – This one’s a bit of a cheat, since it’s basically a Christmas movie, and I would refuse to watch it right now.  Don’t get me wrong, It’s A Wonderful Life is my favorite movie of all time, and I can totally see it working at any time of the year, I just can’t watch it without my family adding our extra soundtrack (don’t ask).  But if you feel so inclined, Capra’s masterpiece should easily keep your mind off the weather.  And if it doesn’t, that’s fine, just politely never speak to me again.

Diabolique – After It’s A Wonderful Life‘s beautifully optimistic ending (“Atta boy, Clarence”), I’m going to be kind of a jerk and yank you in the complete opposite direction.  But I’m doing it for a reason, that reason being that Clouzot’s Diabolique is one the most awesome movies EVARRR, you guys!  Seriously though, it’s an expert psychological horror film, with an ending that will send chills down your spine. (Get it? Like, with the “Cooling Down” thing? Right? Ok, you got it.)

His Girl Friday – After the spine-chills, you’re gonna need another cleansing of the palate, and this time I offer up Howard Hawks’ brilliant His Girl Friday.  Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell comprise roughly the greatest comedy duo of all time (don’t argue with me, I’ll win).  The dialogue snaps when it isn’t being piled on top of other dialogue in the beautifully orchestrated finale, making for one of the greatest moments in Screwball history.  What heat?

The Big Sleep – You know what?  Let’s stick with Howard Hawks for a little while longer.  Because this list essentially boils down to films that suck you in so you forget about everything else.  And few people were better at making those kinds of films than Howard Hawks.  Throw in Bogie and Bacall and a story courtesy of Raymond Chandler, and you wind up with one of the quintessential film noirs (I would say it’s the film noir, but Double Indemnity exists).

City Lights – Essentially the cinematic equivalent of a cool breeze.  I don’t know if you’ve delved into the works of the great Charlie Chaplin, but if you haven’t, you absolutely should.  And City Lights is a heck of a place to start.  Chaplin crafts a stunningly beautiful story of a tramp trying to help the blind girl he loves, and he does it without words.  A remarkable film.

The Shop Around The Corner – This one’s sort of a Christmas movie as well, but only in the sense that part of it takes place around Christmas.  Really though, I’m just a sucker for Ernst Lubitsch, and you should be, too.  The famed “Lubitsch Touch” is on display as James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan are pen pals and don’t realize it, primarily because they don’t get along in real life (yes, it’s You’ve Got Mail, but don’t hold that against it).  It’s a delightful film that will make you forget all about the temperature outside.

The Thing From Another World – Because it takes place in the Arctic.  Duh!  Oh, and also because it’s ludicrously entertaining.  In keeping with a trend for this post, there’s a reason nobody believes that Howard Hawks didn’t direct this; the dialogue comes at a breakneck pace, the characters avoid generic archetype status by being so gosh darn believable, and the monster is shown as little as possible to make the viewers’ imaginations do most of the work.  Hokey title aside, The Thing From Another World perfectly captures a sense of escapism and combines it with a downright chilly atmosphere that makes it perfect for escaping the heat.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Few things in life are more universal than young love.  For most of us, that love often goes unrequited, given that, as children, we know next to nothing about how to properly communicate our feelings.  I remember my first big crush happened in fifth grade.  I won’t tell you her name, but I will tell you that rather than maturely communicate my budding affection, I instead chose to purposefully annoy the crap out of her every chance I got (she made it well-known that she hated whistling, an activity at which I had recently become proficient).

Now, had I heard Big Star’s “Thirteen” at the time, I probably would have altered my behavior not at all, but I would have been intensely jealous of the inherent smoothness of the character in the song.  Which is more than a little ironic, for “Thirteen” is absolutely perfect in the way it captures the romantic intentions of someone who has absolutely no idea of what they are doing.  It begins with the lyrics, which (and please don’t take this the wrong way) are completely unremarkable:

          “Won’t you let me walk you home from school,

          Won’t you let me meet you at the pool,

          Maybe Friday I can get tickets for the dance,

          And I’ll take you.”

If a sentiment like that was issued from one adult to another, I can tell you flat out that the amount of sex about to be had is zero.  But from the perspective of a thirteen-year-old and delivered with as much emotion as Alex Chilton provides here, the song transcends the banality of the words and becomes something devastatingly romantic.  I recently discovered that the song was used to score a rather famous scene from How I Met Your Mother: Ted’s 2-Minute Date with Stella.

The scene comes after Stella (Sarah Chalke) turns down an opportunity for a date with Ted (Josh Radnor), but doesn’t actually say no like she was supposed to, citing maternal obligations.  Ted being Ted daringly recruits some friends (Ranjit!) to stage a wildly compressed date that will fit Stella’s busy schedule.  It’s pure, unfiltered romanticism, that some people turned on for being ridiculous (ok, it kind of was, but lighten up), but the scene’s sheer, outsized emotions more than make up for any lapses in plausibility.

Which is what makes the use of “Thirteen” so perfect.  Because “Thirteen” is nothing if not a song of outsized emotions.  Every line delivered as if its profundity would ring across the land for years to come, even though barely anything really gets said.  And Chilton plays that duality beautifully.  It would be easy to repurpose the song in a tongue-in-cheek manner, slyly winking at the listener, but instead the song is played completely straight, giving full credence to every emotion at play.  It celebrates the joy of youth, rather than poke fun at the ignorance that comes with it.

Take the second verse, where the topic shifts from young love to youthful defiance.  The sincerity is still there in full force, but the message boils down to little more than, “Parents just don’t understand.  Rock and roll, dude.”  Even in the music itself, the guitar plays a beautiful melody throughout, but when you get to the bridge, the earnestness of the song breaks through, so that each string is plucked within an inch of its life, as if the protagonist of the song can’t even bring himself to sing anymore, he just needs you to feel what he’s feeling, and he’s going to do that through his music.  An adolescent thought, if ever there was one.

But Big Star never relents.  They keep a straight face throughout, and God bless ‘em for it.  Because in doing so, they crafted a song that has lived on long after the group disbanded, which never would have happened if the lyrical content had been allowed to dominate the emotions used to communicate them.

Oh, and did I mention that the song is just out of this world pretty?  Gorgeous strumming and a stunningly graceful vocal performance combine to make this love song to the follies of youth a thing of such abject beauty, it kind of blows my mind that Big Star never became more popular.  This could be looked at as the song that launched a thousand emo songs, which, negative connotations aside, should be a sign of the type of feelings that this song is capable of stirring.  It just hits you square in the chest, and not only do you not take it personally, you thank it for the opportunity.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Allow me to jump on a meme while it’s reasonably fresh.  While scrolling through some various movie blogs, I stumbled on a challenge from Go, See, Talk called “Double Feature Theater.”  The idea: movie bloggers (in this case, me) are put in charge of an imaginary movie theater and tasked with coming up with double features to play all week starting Monday, with a bonus triple feature to play on Sunday.  Be as imaginative or simple as you want, and compare with others.  I’ve seen some great pairings (Downfall and Inglourious Basterds being arguably the best, courtesy of Andy Buckle’s Film Emporium).  This is what I’ve come up with:

MONDAY

Two fantastic films from two master filmmakers absolutely in love with the possibilities of cinema.  Tarantino’s gleeful tone doesn’t line up really well with Truffaut’s melancholy, but both films make great use of editing, music, and their creator’s extensive cultural knowledge.

TUESDAY

Thematically speaking, these two films don’t have a lot in common, aside from one gruesome plot detail.  However, both films are stylistic tours de force, and both achieve downright giddy moments of pitch-black comedy.

WEDNESDAY

Experience World War II from two of America’s most well-respected filmmakers.  Spielberg’s visceral depiction of battle will stand in contrast to Malick’s more cerebral take, but that could make experiencing these two different masterpieces all the more rewarding.

THURSDAY

These two different tales of playful criminals should play off one another surprisingly well, I should think.  Trouble In Paradise‘s pre-Hays Code dialogue will make a handy companion to The Coen Brothers’ colorful language in their depiction of Ed and H.I.

FRIDAY

Two inventive films that attempt to navigate the world of romance using little more than the language of pop culture.  Cusack’s brilliant performance in High Fidelity may be a tad too cynical for date night, but (500) Days of Summer‘s general sense of optimism should prove to be a fine palate cleanser.

SATURDAY

Hitchcock’s masterpiece, it could be argued, was the film that served as the impetus for what we know as “The Slasher Film,” so obviously it should be paired up with what is (in this writer’s humble opinion) the pinnacle of the genre.  Both Hitch and Carpenter make masterful use of their instrumental scores to achieve more terror than any amount of gore could ever hope to accomplish (*cough*Rob Zombie*cough*).

SUNDAY

Call it the “My Misunderstood Alien Friend” Triple Feature.  We start with Paul Verhoeven’s searingly brilliant sci-fi satire, move into Neill Blomkamp’s Alien Apartheid Allegory (ain’t alliteration awesome?), and finish it up with the tale of the ultimate alien who just wants to go home.  Yes, this means that Spielberg is represented twice as often as any other director, but if anybody should be, why not Spielberg?

p.s.  I was originally going to include a different double feature, but I’m not sick enough to even jokingly suggest that The Muppet Movie and Meet The Feebles wouldn’t be tremendously upsetting when viewed back-to-back.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

This past weekend I took in a viewing of Marvel’s latest, Captain America, and despite illness rendering me freezing in the A/C and my large Sprite causing me to squirm for roughly the entire second half of the film, I still found it effortlessly enjoyable and a top-notch adventure yarn.  That’s the power of these movies, they combine charismatic performances and simple thrills to achieve something too few blockbusters manage, action-packed thrill rides that are lacking in neither fun nor pathos.

True, the Edward Norton version of The Incredible Hulk didn’t really accomplish anything, Thor maybe could have put a little more effort into its Earth plotline, and Iron Man 2 could have just tried to be a little bit better in general, but they were all still better than Spider-Man 3, so…

Plus, even if none of them manage a Dark Knight-level of craftsmanship, it’s incredibly hard to deny the big picture formation of this monumental project.  The cooperation of several directors and actors across several years and films, all leading up to The Avengers in 2012 is commendable just for the fact that they were crazy enough to even try it, let alone for the fact that they are actually going to finish.

Because, in all seriousness, the idea is a white-hot brand of wacky that you rarely see in Hollywood, mostly because the kooks who have these ideas never get legitimate people to go in with them.  Which is what has made the past few years so exciting, with people like Jon Favreau, Kenneth Branaugh, and Robert Downey Jr. proving themselves willing to go along for the ride, and drafting Samuel L. Jackson to commit to a long string of cameos in preparation for what could ultimately be the most impossibly big movie ever (maybe).

But this is where the internet critics have jumped in, saying that the movie is going to be entirely too big, and can’t possibly succeed (Yes, there is cynicism on the internet.  I was surprised, too.).  But to that skepticism, I say “Nay” in a loud and unnecessarily theatrical demonstration of my resistance to believe that The Avengers will be anything but amazing.  Because for starters, Joss Whedon is directing it.  And that’s just awesome.  I know a lot of you still probably haven’t watched Buffy, assuming it’s just a dumb vampire show, but you’re dumb!  It’s really cool, guys!  It is!  Also Firefly.

Secondly, as previously stated, the complete lunacy of the multiple-year rollout of these films has meant that by the time we get to The Avengers, we will already know how the team formed, along with the basic backstory for most of the characters.  So aside from the likely look into Hawkeye’s origin (and maybe Black Widow and Nick Fury), Whedon can spend a lot of time developing a conflict for the heroes to deal with organically.

Not to mention the fact that since he isn’t tasked with showing where they all came from or how they were introduced to S.H.I.E.L.D., Whedon also gets to utilize the combined charisma of all the actors to show them interacting as equals and friends, and if you’ve seen any Whedon material before, you are or should be absolutely giddy at the prospect.

All of this is absolutely huge, and a gigantic boon to The Avengers‘ prospects.  Compare all of this with DC’s proposed Justice League movie that’s been in development for forever, but which now seems to be getting fast-tracked (gee, I wonder why?).  Whereas Marvel took the time to give most of the characters their own film to introduce us to them, DC is just going to jump in head first and hope the water’s fine.  Not only are they not giving films to any of the several members of the Justice League, they are going to ignore existing film canon for the few that non-comics readers might be familiar with.

That means Batman won’t be Nolan’s Batman (probably a good thing), Superman won’t be Zack Snyder’s Superman (maybe a good thing), and… okay, DC doesn’t have that many valuable properties (that Green Arrow movie’s gonna be big, I know it).  And, if you weren’t aware (and you very well might not be, I barely am), the Justice League is massive.  I’ve seen depictions of it with membership that seems to exist in the dozens, hopefully that would be pared down to your more basic members (Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman… and the rest), but without any prior introduction, DC has what appears to be an insurmountable task on their hands.

Which is why I say kudos to Marvel!  You crazy bastards have finally accomplished what many have set out to do and failed so hard at, creating an absurdly ambitious franchise that will actually see the light of day, and have been thoroughly entertaining in the process.  Next summer’s gonna be good.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Horrible, stupid title aside, the latest (and hopefully last) installment in the Transformers franchise is leagues ahead of its predecessor.  It doesn’t quite match the simple thrills of the first one, but it didn’t awkwardly attempt to graft an unnecessary and overly complicated mythology onto the series, and should therefore be held in much higher regard than Revenge of the Fallen.

My main problem with the second film (aside from it being over-long and boring and a complete mess) was the wonky retconning that the whole “Optimus Prime is magic” thing turned out to be.  A friend of mine claims that this is my fault for not accepting the world of the movie, but I maintain that it was the producers wanting the dramatic tension of killing a main character and then just deus-ex-machina-ing their way out of it.

Fortunately, none of this came into play during Dark of the Moon (God, that is just awful).  Optimus Prime’s magic rejuvenation thing (I couldn’t care less what it’s actually called) still plays a part (by this point it’s canon, so I won’t complain), but the movie as a whole pretty much gets back to the “bad robots be bad, good robots be good, they gon’ fight” aspect that made the first one such good escapist fun.

The plot concerns Megatron and company’s attempt to steal old Autobot technology that would allow them to teleport their home world to Earth’s atmosphere so that they can begin to rebuild (I know that sounds complicated, but they don’t really go into details, to the film’s credit).  This obviously upsets the Autobots (given that it would, y’know, destroy everything they’ve come to call home) and so they head to the moon where the Autobot ship carrying the technology crashed after a failed escape attempt, and gather what they can find of it along with Sentinel Prime, the former Autobot leader and the creator of the technology in question.

Back on Earth, Sam Witwicky (Shia LeBeouf) is stumbling through life in an ostensibly hilarious slapsticky way.  He’s struggling to find a job, his car’s off saving the world without him, his parents are in town, and he’s worried about his love life, even though he should be thanking his lucky stars, what with having netted himself another ridiculously hot girlfriend (Rosie Huntington-Whitely) after it’s revealed that Megan Fox dumped him for one reason or another (my theory: she’s Megan Fox, he’s Shia LeBeouf).

It’s the typical hour of non-robot fights that have become curiously standard in these movies about robots fighting each other, but it’s fairly inoffensive this time out (no pot brownies are accidentally ingested), plus it leads to a superb John Malkovich supporting performance, and a pretty hilarious crack from Sam’s mom pertaining to his new car.

However, the movie does have problems.  At 157 minutes, it is still way too long for a summer blockbuster.  Also, there is an overabundance of comic relief, in that it seems half the characters function as such, making for unnecessary distractions at times when the movie really doesn’t need them (and while Alan Tudyk technically falls in this category, he gets a pass because he’s Alan Tudyk).

But for all the fundamental things wrong with the film, it’s still largely entertaining and (amazingly enough) watchable.  Michael Bay seems to have finally listened to his detractors, because there are several times when he holds on shots for several (!) seconds, making for a movie that isn’t a totally incoherent mess (what a concept).  Couple that with zero excessively grating performances and a plot that only seems complicated, but not in any ways that matter, and what we are left with is a movie about giant robots fighting that is actually fun.  Why was that ever an issue, again?

Oh yeah, and nobody gets humped by anything (kudos?).

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Uncanny.  That’s about the only word that can describe Steven Spielberg’s instincts when it comes to film-making.  Sure he’s stumbled here and there, but there’s something about his films that you can’t deny.  Spielberg films look the way movies should look.  They feel the way movies should feel.  They might scare the pants off you, bring you to tears, or crush you with a wave of nostalgia, but one thing’s for sure, you will remember that film.  Because Spielberg, despite possessing some of the best commercial instincts of anybody in Hollywood, makes films that aren’t quite like anybody else’s.

Well, until now, I guess.  With Super 8, J.J. Abrams does his best Spielberg impression (with the man’s blessing, of course [he serves as Executive Producer]), and for the most part it’s, yeah, uncanny.  The story concerns a group of Ohio adolescents with a penchant for making movies.  One night while filming at a train station, they are witness to the derailment of a train with some mysterious cargo, cargo that they may have inadvertently captured on film.  From there the military shows up and starts sweeping the town, the power goes out in patches, and pets and townspeople start to disappear.  Then things start to get weird.

The film is a throwback to Spielberg’s Amblin output, a period in film Abrams is clearly familiar with, as what he’s created is a stunning re-creation.  The cinematography does a lot of the work, lending a majestic air to every corner of late 70′s suburbia on display.  Shots of watertowers, chain-link fences, and mill-workers are filmed with a grace not seen often enough, and as a result, every frame winds up as a thing of beauty.

But for as much credit as is due to the cinematography, the real champions are the kids comprising the principle cast.  Possessing a natural and unforced chemistry, they lend the movie a lived-in quality that was imperative to the film’s success.  These kids aren’t bundles of quirks or balls of energy, they are kids and they act like it, and when they are ultimately confronted with danger, they react like kids would likely act.  In that, Abrams perfectly captures the spirit of a Spielberg film.

The movie is not without its problems, though.  Abrams, despite expertly crafting a sense of magic in the beginning, has trouble maintaining it, and as a result, the movie kind of falls apart in the third act.  Actually, it doesn’t fall apart, so much as change.  By the climax of the film, we have stepped away from Spielberg, and moved more towards Cloverfield.  But that’s only a mild disappointment, given the unchecked awesomeness of the first two acts.

So what we are left with is an astonishing film with some third act problems that are easy to ignore.  Because what we really have here is a bravura piece of film-making.  One that dared to pick up Spielberg’s mantle, and didn’t wind up a total catastophe.  A film that deals simultaneously with monsters and the difficulties of parenthood, and that treats both with necessary reverence.  A film that looks up with awe, while also trying to figure out exactly how things work down here.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

A couple weeks ago I got a sudden desire to form a list of my personal Top 100 films.  Then I did that.  I don’t think it was worth the trouble.  But the list is here for your perusal, feel free to let me know in the comments what films I’m a complete idiot for omitting, or you could also be a decent person for once… jerk.  Oh, and one more note, this is not a list of what I think are the 100 best films, these are my 100 favorite films, so shut up already (this intro was mean-spirited).

1. It’s A Wonderful Life
2. 12 Angry Men
3. Trouble In Paradise
4. The Dark Knight
5. Chinatown
6. Raiders of the Lost Ark
7. Double Indemnity
8. The Godfather
9. Star Wars (Original trilogy)
10. The Big Lebowski
11. Sunset Blvd.
12. Beauty and the Beast
13. Dr. Strangelove
14. High Noon
15. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
16. Psycho
17. Groundhog Day
18. His Girl Friday
19. Singin’ In The Rain
20. High Fidelity
21. No Country for Old Men
22. Lawrence of Arabia
23. Ghostbusters
24. Wall*E
25. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans
26. Wet Hot American Summer
27. The Godfather part II
28. Fargo
29. The Thin Man
30. Pee Wee’s Big Adventure
31. Blues Brothers
32. On The Town
33. The Shawshank Redemption
34. Grosse Point Blank
35. Dog Day Afternoon
36. Paths of Glory
37. Rebecca
38. Up
39. It Happened One Night
40. Clerks
41. Big
42. Die Hard
43. Ratatouille
44. Shaun of the Dead
45. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
46. Brick
47. The Muppet Movie
48. Back to the Future
49. The Lady Vanishes
50. Pulp Fiction
51. Nightmare Before Christmas
52. Fight Club
53. City Lights
54. Wizard of Oz
55. Empire Records
56. The Incredibles
57. Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
58. The Sting
59. Memento
60. The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
61. Serenity
62. Brazil
63. Who Framed Roger Rabbit
64. Young Frankenstein
65. The Iron Giant
66. Before Sunset
67. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
68. Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind
69. The Apartment
70. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
71. Halloween
72. Goodfellas
73. Beetlejuice
74. Amelie
75. Toy Story (Trilogy)
76. Gremlins
77. Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown
78. Tommy Boy
79. Let the Right One In
80. The Thing
81. La Dolce Vita
82. Jaws
83. The Deer Hunter
84. The Princess Bride
85. Lars and the Real Girl
86. Wild Strawberries
87. The Mummy (1999)
88. Adaptation
89. Rushmore
90. Manhattan
91. Paris, Texas
92. Rashomon
93. Grindhouse
94. Treasure of the Sierra Madre
95. Metropolis
96. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
97. Rear Window
98. Uncle Buck
99. Forgetting Sarah Marshall
100. Marty

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

The Hangover was not a great movie.  Shut up, no it wasn’t.  It was a funny movie, that much is true, but as far as things like plot and character development are concerned, well, let’s put it this way: if you took everything from when the guys are on the roof to when they are driving back from Vegas, threw it away and replaced it with something completely different, you would be left with the exact same movie.  Which is fine.  As far as gag delivery systems go, The Hangover is tops.  But where do you go with a sequel?

Well (and this should come as no surprise), they decided to go the “same, but bigger” route.  So the movie we are left with hits a lot of the same beats.  Let’s see, bizarre facial mutilation for Ed Helms?  Check.  Small lifeform for Zack Galifianakis to tote around?  Check.  Montage of pictures detailing the forgotten night?  Check.  Sardonic, yet strangely earnest song by Stu?  Check.  Mike Tyson cameo?  Check.  Ken Jeong’s junk?  Check.

If that looks like a lot of sameness, you’re right.  The Hangover Part II is very similar to it’s predecessor, and the law of diminishing returns is very much in play here.  Whereas my face actually hurt when I left the theater after the first one, there was no danger of that happening this time around.  Don’t get me wrong, chuckles (and the occasional guffaw) were had, and quite frequently, but even the best joke stops being hilarious after you’ve heard it several times.

So what, then, about the bits not blatantly cribbed from the first film?  Well, there’s not a ton, but what is there is pretty damn funny.  Most of it heavy on the raunch, which actually works in the film’s favor, because the one truly new beat that the sequel hits is plenty hysterical and was virtually impossible to spoil in the trailers (if you’ve seen it, you probably know what I’m talking about).

Also there’s a monkey, and if you can’t mine humor out of a monkey (especially one as expressive as the one they found), well then you should just give up and move back into your parents’ basement and just stay there so we don’t have to deal with you anymore (too harsh?).  And of course, the chemistry between the three leads remains strong as ever, but where the humor was pretty evenly spread amongst them the first time, Galifianakis does pretty much all the heavy lifting in this outing (and Justin Bartha remains a non-entity).

But it is pretty funny, and that’s really all that matters (well, that and good box office numbers, which, check).  There’s no real important plot developments, but there weren’t in the first one either.  What we’re left with is a less successful, yet still worthy follow-up to one of the most impossibly funny movies to come out in recent memory.  It always had a tall hill to climb, and so you can’t really blame it for chickening out and taking the path already cleared by the first one, even if all the useful materials on that path had already been cleared out, leaving very little for the sequel to provide to the audience that they hadn’t already seen and… you know what, on second thought, skip this.  Go see Bridesmaids instead.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Let’s get free-form, y’all!  My ingestion of pop culture lately has been less structured than usual, leaving me kind of at a loss for cohesive blog posts pertaining to one topic.  So, this being my blog and since you’re not my real mom (except you, Mom) I’m going to, just this week, hit you with a mix of mini-posts, covering a plethora of topics (plethora being taken at its loosest definition).  Ready? Here we go! (If you read that in Mario’s voice, will you marry me?)

– I finally watched The Ladykillers (Tom Hanks version) and while that is not exciting news by any stretch of the imagination, it is big for me because that finally makes me a Coen brothers completist (directorial).  I suppose if there has to be a Coen brothers film that you haven’t seen, The Ladykillers is probably the best (in that it’s basically their worst), but I liked it.  It has problems, sure, Marlon Wayans is ungodly annoying in it, and, being a remake of a perfectly decent film, it’s fundamentally pointless.  But Tom Hanks is terrific in it, it’s got some solid black comedy (cribbed from the original, but whatever), and it’s got a kick-ass gospel soundtrack.

– I bailed on Infinite Jest.  I don’t think I even made it to a hundred pages.  I know, I’m terrible.  What I read I enjoyed, but the thousand-plus pages and all those footnotes were too stressful so I gave up.  I’ll give it another go at some point.  I’ll also finish The Grapes of Wrath and Of Human Bondage at some point, too, I swear.

– I saw Thor.  It was awesome.  I wasn’t watching it terribly critically, so that’s basically the end of my discussion on the topic.  I have some thoughts about how Marvel is handling the build-up to The Avengers, but I’ll save that for after Captain America.

– I started reading The Hunger Games.  The writing’s a bit clunky, but it’s entertaining and fairly easy, which is refreshing after I let David Foster Wallace down (I’m sure he’s taking it very personally from beyond the grave).  I hadn’t really heard anything about it up until all the casting announcements started pouring out, and I became curious.  It’s surprisingly dark (given that it’s about kids being forced to murder each other) and compelling (albeit, kind of cheaply), so I can see what all the fuss is about.

– I’ve been reading some Batman graphic novels.  Some.  Not many.  Three to be exact.  In the past month I’ve read (in order) Batman: Year One, The Dark Knight Returns, and The Killing Joke.  I’ve never been huge into comics and I’ve always regretted that.  The catalogues are just so massive, I wouldn’t know where to jump in, so I tend to stick to graphic novels, or limited comics runs in graphic novel form.  I thoroughly enjoyed these three,  The Dark Knight Returns and The Killing Joke especially.  Batman is one of the few superheroes that you can get really dark with and these books took advantage.  And I will totally take any suggestions for other graphic novels worth reading.

– Amazingly enough, Glee has actually been kind of okay lately.  It’s nowhere near as good as its first season, but it hasn’t been wildly divergent or actively terrible, so it gets a pass from me.  This week even found a reason for Sue to actually act the way she does in the form of her sister dying (the show kind of tried to use this as a way of retconning her character for the season, but I’m not having it).  The finale’s next week, and I gotta say it, I’m hopeful.  The tournament episodes are usually better than most, although Quinn’s up to some pointless shenanigans, so it could go either way.  As long as it isn’t a total trainwreck, I’ll be fine with signing back up next year.

– I watched On The Town starring Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra a couple weeks ago, and holy crap did I love that movie!  I figured I’d like it fine, given that it’s an MGM musical from the heyday of MGM musicals and Gene Kelly was awesome, but I completely fell in love with it.  It’s pure entertainment, with great songs, wonderful ensemble work, and a sense of palpable joy throughout.  Singin’ In The Rain is still the best musical, but On The Town just might be my favorite.

– CBS cancelled Mad Love.  That doesn’t surprise me.  I am disappointed by the news, because I enjoyed the show.  It wasn’t the most original (or funniest) show ever, but it was delightful in its own way, and I will miss it.  I’m pissed, however, because clearly they had plans for a season 2 and they ended the finale with Tyler Labine and Judy Greer realizing they had feelings for each other, but with Labine hooking up with Greer’s boss instead in a moment of weakness.  And that’s frustrating.  It’s The Class all over again.

–I want to see Bridesmaids.  Not as a social statement, or a display of my support of equality for women (for the record: I do support that), I just want to see it because it looks hilarious and I like the cast.  Deal with it.

– I finally saw The Road Warrior.  When that scenario comes true, I call dibs on the one-sleeve leather jacket.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture