Flux Vector

Avatar. Everyone has been talking about this bad boy for a while now. People seem to think this is the future of film making and that it is literally a piece of instantly classic cinema. Seriously, people are all wet about this thing and are going crazy for it. It was nominated for a fucking Golden Globe before it was even released! And if you don't like it, beware the mighty lynch mob of uber fans (just see how they attack Doug Benson via twitter after he said he didn't like it). So one must ask, does the man that hates all films enjoy the supposed most important film of our time? What follows is a brief summary and review of Avatar. I would say that there are spoilers, but if you don't know the story after watching the first ten minutes of the movie, then I would recommend you leave the theater and complete your grade school education. None the less... SPOILER ALERT!

Here's a brief timeline of my pre Avatar feelings. My first impressions: I thought it looked stupid, didn't like the character designs, and overall wasn't impressed. As more and more trailers, teasers, and co-branding shit came about, my enthusiasm about James Cameron's masterpiece only grew weaker. Then came the reviews. This thing was, supposedly, legit. I figured it was something I had to see, if only to see the nutty 3D Imax bullshit.

Here's a brief synopsis of Avatar. Okay so there are these marines, led by Ari Gold and Guile from Street Fighter. They want this metal called unobtanium. Seriously, its so rare they just named it sofuckinghardtogetonium. They also renamed kryptonite as antisupermanonium. So they want this rare metal (20 mil a kilo!) and there is a big fat lode of it on this crazy little planet called Pandora. Surely nothing can possibly go wrong on a named after a bitch that fucked mankind for eternity with her curiosity. So Guile and his merry band of space marines are just gonna go in and make a shit ton of money right? Alas my friend, there are tall, blue things in the way. Tall blue things with ARROWS!

For some reason, the evil space marines decide to try and use super science to solve the problem of the angry native. They use this super complex technology to transport the consciousness of human beings into their own personal blue things, hence Avatar. Their plan is to learn about them via assimilation and then bring them down from the inside or some garbage. This raises several questions:

1) With the ability to transport consciousness into different bodies and travel lightyears through space with cryfreeze, where did the marines put their weapons? With this kind of technology shouldn't the miitary have some insane shit? How could tall blue hippies with rocks possibly pose a threat to the army of the future? They really need to learn their secrets/become friends with them?

2) Is Sygorny Weaver the most unattractive creature on all planets? Seriously, she's fucking ghoulish, even as a blue tiger-man. Yes tiger-man, calling her a tiger-woman would be an insult to tiger-women everywhere.

So anyway the paralyzd marine guy, I'm sure you've all seen him in the trailers and he's so generic its not worth going into his character, gets to be one of these Avatars. After several loosley threaded together set-pieces, the marine guy (Jake) finds himself face to face with the hipster chick of the blu ray tribe. Seriously, this tiger-woman has gauged ears and feathers in her hair. Total hipster. She doesn't kill him because she wants to fuck his brains out. Seriously, I could practically smell those tiger-woman pheromones... perhaps it was really 4D? SO after the tree of life gets its seeds all up on Jake's business, Hipster is convinced that he's totally chill. Mom and Pop, the village shaman and leader respectively, aren't so keen on this Jake guy (surprise!). However, after a montage in which Jake learns how useless a bow and arrow are and he tames a flying lizard, the blue people think he's totally the shit... well maybe like 80% the shit. The town joke still thinks he's totally lame.

To go on a brief tangent, the amount of phallic symbolism in this movie is insane. Big guns/spears are rather standard but Avatar goes a step further. The pokemon of pandora are 'controlled' when the blue folks put their hair pubes (note, not pube hairs, literally the pubes of their hair) into their ear holes. Which is quite strange. I chuckled the first time Jake rode his dragon bird with its head looking like he was straddling a massive dong. I could probably write a paper about this is A) I cared or B) wanted to write a paper (see: never). As part of the climax, Jake trades his bird-dragon pokemon in for an EVEN BIGGER BIRD-DRAGON COCK!

I really kind of lost my train of thought there... At some point there is Jake on Hipster alien sex. Then the marines try to blow up a big tree, fail, and get beaten by the ewoks. Somehow I like the ewoks better then the blue guys. My entire life I've been told to root for the space marines, and even though I suppose they were the villains here, I was really hoping they would get that hardtoaccsessonium.

In brief: Avatar is a turd wrapped in a glittery, sparkly, expensive package that is so mind numbingly beautiful you really don't care that there is a turd inside. The dialogue is a fucking laugh riot, the story is stock and boring, and the characters are rather forgettable. Does it deserve critical praise? No. NONONO. Is it a fun, corny action romp? Yes. Bring the barf bags if you see this in Imax. Bring your mind altering substance of choice if you choose to see this anywhere.

Final Verdict: See it in theaters, because when this hits home video its really going to get neutered.

Carrot Juice

Someone I found myself at the theater watching Invictus yesterday. After pondering for a moment, I deduced my reasoning for arriving:

1) I was napping and Fred came in and asked me if I wanted to go see aforementioned movie. So, post-nap confusion may be to blame for this lapse in judgement.

2) I was also the last car in the driveway, so I would've had to of moved my car anyway... so I ended up moving it all the way to the parking lot at the Americana.

After adventuring through the mall, discussing mall based zombie attacks and jerking around the Lov Sac salesman, we bumbled our way into the theater. Popcorn was purchased. Fuck loads of popcorn. So much god damn popcorn. If you can eat a large popcorn, then get a refill, and even eat a single kernel, then perhaps you should consider investing in corn. So popcorn was distributed amongst the three of us via some boxes that the popcorn jerker was kind enough to give us.

Anyway, on to the movie. I had about

0 expectations for this movie. You might even say I had about a -2 expectation for this movie. Deep down inside I have a sore spot for cheesy sports movies. All the Rocky movies, Rudy, Victory, hell even that one about the Eagles with Markie Mark. All those flicks are alright in my book. With the sport of choice being Rugby, at least I would get to see a sport on film that I've never seen before... however this logic could be quite flawed had the movie been about cricket, or... like swimming or some shit.

Considering you probably don't want to read a review, dig these notes:

- There was a preview for some Mel Gibson movie that takes place in Boston. I'm really fucking sick of every movie giving people from Boston over the top Southie accents. Seriously.

- I know nothing about Rugby. Here's what I've gathered from Invictus

~ Apparently there is a lot of grunting and shoving. All while holding hands.

~ If you've got a really little guy on your team, you can use him in a sort of fastball special type maneuver.

~ There is a lot of field goal kicking. I imagine it is similar to another foreign sport: Canadian Football.

~ New Zealand has a team called the All Blacks, despite having no Black players. (Note: They did however have a large Samoan type looking dude.)

- Nelson Mandela had a fucking tight wardrobe. He either wore suits, pimping silver shirts with crazy patterns, or Cosby sweaters. No wonder they locked him up, they feared the social upheaval that his stellar wardrobe would cause.

- Morgan Freeman looked more like Admiral Ackbar than Mandela.

Overall I gave this thang a C+. See it if you must, or if you really like Matt Damon. However I imagine if you're that big of a Damon fan, you've already seen this thing a few times. Cheers!

Airstrike

Remember when I said I'd be continuing that movie list? Yeah, fuck that noise. A) No one cared (including myself) and B) I realized I hate every movie anyway. Literally it's so rare that I see a movie I like. Don't think I'm being a pretentious (bleh) film snob, because really I just hate most things. People, movies, smells, areas; literally out of everything I like, and I'm being generous, maybe 35%. There are so few things in this world I like, it's astounding that I haven't gone all 'Falling Down'. However, recently I have discovered something I actually do like, beyond Call of Duty and masturbation of course. In fact, if you had told me I would have enjoyed this thing before I had experienced it, I would quite possibly of spat, maybe even spat upon you. But alas, here I am enjoying the toxic wonders of MTV's The Jersey Shore.

Yep. I said it. I enjoy this astounding piece of American television like a guido enjoys a protein shakes and fist pumping. The constant seesaw between hilarity and toilet filling nausea is like nothing I've ever experienced before. On one hand, the show is a terrifying freak show; displaying to the world the very reason why America is destined for the shitter faster then an evening of El Pollo Loco. While these fine 'guidos' and 'guidettes' may seem like rare beasts, they are growing in number and I can tell you that my generation is leading the league in douchiness. Invest in Jager and Red Bull now because that shit is going to go through the roof (if it hasn't already)

Being able to observe these alien, Affliction clad, orange skinned beasts from the safety of my couch is perhaps the point of redemption that makes the show enjoyable. No longer to I have to venture out to 'The Club' and get my ears blown out by shit house music while I scream a 'conversation' to a girl who looks like she applied her make-up with an Oozinator (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s830U1ckE6A&feature=related). Its almost like MTV read my mind and took all the garbage out of the Real World and just handed me a 45 minute peep show with an alcohol content higher than The Hoff's blood and more tribal tattoos than there are actual tribes. The best part? I don't think these people realize what train wrecks they are. A choice line of dialogue from one of the future members of MENSA was: "This work (t-shirt shop cashier) is below me. I'm a bartender."

Indeed.

So let's all raise our glasses and stock our bomb shelters, because honestly 2012 is looking pretty good right now.