Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox

 What a bunch of weirdos.

Sherrybaby

I knew Maggie Gyllenhall was a great actress when I saw that part in Secretary where she dabbed water off her blouse and you could see the shape of her boob.

Sleeping Dogs Lie

I've been a fan of Bobcat Goldthwait since I was a child, and when I say "fan" I mean I saw him on television and he made my dad laugh. The guy also had a funny voice and walked out onstage with his pants around his ankles. It was a three-point frozen rope right into a young boy's heart.

Lucky Louie

I love ya, Louie, but hearing Rick Shapiro on Greg Fitzsimmons' podcast blew my goddamn mind.

The Wire -- Season 4

Last year I had some free time on my hands and rather than spending it at the singles bar or collecting passport stamps, I watched sixty hours of The Wire. Awesome shit and totally the right decision.

This year I had some free time on my hands and rather than spending it at the singles bar or collecting passport stamps, I re-watched season four of The Wire. Still awesome shit, but not really the right decision.

Rocky Balboa

My friend's lady told me that if I was serious about wanting to ramp up my flirtations with that gal at the coffee stand then maybe I should try to engage her in conversations about, say, a good movie I saw over the weekend.

Considering I like to watch Nekromantik and Rocky Balboa I might want to try something else.

Poultrygeist -- Night of the Chicken Dead

If there's one thing people can't stand it's shit. Poop. Feces. Hershey Squirts. Why, just the sound of a damp fart will send most of ya runnin' out the room screaming. If you wanna dish our some squirms, and we're talking some serious squirms, then you best leave that eyeball stabbin' and fingernail pullin' on the cuttin' room floor and plop yourself into the nearest toilet stall pronto.

Guess that's our way of saying, "Poultrygeist? What a fantastic film!"

Masters of Horror -- Imprint

The Masters of Horror episode so unsettling Showtime refused to air it! Takashi Miike strikes again with both a needles under the fingernails torture scene and a few good ol' flashbacks of countryside abortions. Strange and dense, Imprint is exactly what we expected: second-tier pay cable production values coupled with impenetrable hallucinogenic story arcs that could only come from the Ray-Banned mind of Miike hisself. What the hell was that end about anyway? You see that head and hand grow out of that prostitute's right temple?!?

Sheitan

French entry into the modern arena of "torture porn" that's totally unremarkable plot-wise, but cinema-wise features a final thirty minutes that typify such a sense of mayhem and frightening uncertainty we had to change our overall opinion from "meh" to "hey, not half-bad!" Vincent Cassel's enthusiastic performance as the creepy inbred caretaker was so powerful it nearly overcame our overwhelming hatred of the film's protagonists, a Kant-violating group of discothequeing sleazebags so unlikeable that rooting for their collective demise would be a complement. We're not really sure how much we appreciated this movie and even we were a little surprised at how the film's light peppering of misogyny offended even our sick little sensibilities (especially considering we sat through this whole thing without even batting an eye), but somehow we enjoyed Sheitan's arty hipster aspirations enough to recommend it your way.

Jackass: Number Two

You did say you needed more material for you Queer Studies thesis, didn't you?

They're destined for painful deaths, but at least they made us laugh.

The Dwarves -- FEFU

Yay, more Dwarves! And this time they want to fuck! Want to fuck! Want to fuck, eat, and fuck you up! Enjoy, if you will, two differently-rated versions of the 2005 tune "FEFU," a making-of feature, and a bunch of hand-held live and interview footage. Y'know, you don't actually have to enjoy it by watching this DVD, you can just read the Prindle review and pretend. That sounds like more fun, don't it? We think you'd probably enjoy it more! We love the Prind and think his synopsis and opinions on this here video collection are so appropriate and comical that we'll send some clicks his way. (We like that "FEFU" song way more than he does, by the way.)


Now if you do watch the DVD the Highland Cinema recommends you don't skip the interview segments, segments which we're certain we liked so much since we got to see the sheer sleaziness of these guys. And it's some sleeeeaaaaze. Not necessarily over the top in its misogyny, but just kinda gross. Sure, Blag seems like a smart feller what with his book-writin' and tunesmithery, but every now and then there's a sliminess that just can't just be part of some shtick. Yeesh. And keep in mind that He Who Can Not Be Named has to be a legitimately creeped-out motherfucking psychopath. Seriously, what kind of person delights in shaking his penis around and cracking skulls with his guitar? Hmmmm...hopefully not the same kind of person that'd delight in watching such things.

The Mission of Burma Story -- Not a Photograph

I never got into Burma even though I saw 'em on the first reunion tour and I've had Vs. for the past seven years. I get it. I can hear the influence these guys had, I can understand why they get them glowing accolades, but I just haven't boarded that Mission of Burma train. Which is too bad, I suppose. They seem like really nice and super smart older dudes who finally get to enjoy the luxury of playing interesting songs to people who are dying to hear 'em. I found it pretty remarkable that prior to this reunion Clint Conley hadn't touched a guitar for years and years , but I found it even more remarkable how intimidated I was by Roger Miller.

The World According to Sesame Street

Jeepers, how much weepy nostalgia does the S-deuce conjure up? Too much, we say! Don't know what it is, but whenever the Cinema sees some foam rubber puppets acting and singing we get some teary smiles a-goin'. Must be something inherent about those ping-pong eyeballs and bargain-basement carpets 'cause it can't all be sadness over our deceased childhood. We darn near cried right there in elementary school when Big Jimmy bit the dust and that's no lie.


This Sesame Street flick isn't about our 'Pets experience at all. It's really just a ninety minute commercial for the international wing of Henson Enterprises and how great they are for their respect and compassion for all them distinct sub-cults within each of them different worldly cultures. Noble, indeed. But we're too cynical for it all. More puppets! Less neo-lib, post-post doctoral-Age of Aquarius jibber-jabber!

Inside Man

The Cinema's first Spike Lee joint and we'll be damned if it ain't the best one since, I dunno, Clockers! Sure, we liked Bamboozled more than the next guy (though we suspect it was the Union Jack talking more than our own gray matter...explanation upon request), but this Inside Man, she is full of the twists and the turns. Such a wonderful Mamet Jr script! Such witty dialogues and exchanges! They are both corny and clever at the same time. And the plot? The stuff of the suspense-building it is. Rest assured you 40 Acres devotees, you're still getting some trademark Spike, but the stuff you expect to see like the often too-loud and nearly distracting score, the heavy-handed scene or two about....racial relations (?!?!?!?!), the brief trolley cam, and the washed-out film stock show up a whole lot less than what Mo' Better accustomed ya to. Inside Man is a neat bank robbery caper if you can you believe it. The kind of flick the studios didn't have to give to Spike but did anyway. Hopefully he made those suits some cash 'cause the world is so desperately waiting for that Girl 6 sequel.

Go Knicks!

Benchwarmers

Dude, this was fucking dumb. I know you heard me laughing aloud, but still....this was really goddamn stupid.

But have you guys seen Happiness? No? It's an uncomfortable one full of mucho sadness, pain, and, uh, stickiness, but there's this opening five minutes where Jon Lovitz gets dumped just as he's about to give his special lady this engraved silver ashtray thingy and it's just fucking amazing. No joke, that shit is way close to Alec-Baldwin-in-Glengarry-Glen-Ross amazing, and certainly better than Ben-Affleck-playing-Alec-Baldwin-in-Glengarry-Glen-Ross-in-Boiler-Room amazing. You'd never know it, but underneath those sandwich ads and "that's the ticket!" catchphrases the Lovitz is a real deal actor.

In Benchwarmers he drives the Batmobile and has a robot butler.

See, I told you. Fucking dumb.

Jonestown: The Life and Death of People's Temple

Jim Jones was a horrible person. I feel so strongly about it that I'll admit to you that the Highland Cinema started to tear up a little bit during this one. Just over nine hundred real people died thanks to this cruel, manipulative, lying sonofabitch. If Jim Wynorski's name was in the credits, I'd offer you a Kool-Aid joke and exaggerated, insensitive Darwinism. Instead I only offer you the following:

Read up on Jonestown here, here, and here. A number of People's Temple texts are in circulation, but I've only read this one.

Wow, that turned to be way more serious than I'd anticipated. We will now return to our regularly scheduled sleaze.

Coming soon: Nekromantik!