DINOSAURS, BITCHES.

JURASSIC PARK (1993)

"Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherits the earth."

Let's get one thing straight. Dinosaurs are badass. If you don't think dinosaurs are badass, you need to get an MRI pronto because chances are, you have a large parasite eating away at the part of your brain that differentiates badass from Justin Bieber. With that said, Jurassic Park could have easily been cool without even trying. They could've slapped a couple CGI creatures in there, and then slapped a couple hundred more flying little digital splashes of color and called it a day. Because that's how movies are made, right?

Image from www.filmofilia.com

Wrong. Jurassic Park is how movies are made. Or at least, how movies should be made. No matter how many times I've seen it, I have yet to find a single fucking flaw in the thing. When I say it's a flawless movie, I mean it's a motherfucking flawless movie. So flawless that I had to review it twice because I just couldn't contain my feelings. It is better or worse in 3D? Meh. As an avid 3D disparager, I actually didn't mind it in 3D this time around. Why? Well, because it's Jurassic Park on the big screen. They could've had those irritating television popup ads on the bottom corner of the screen every five minutes and I still would've enjoyed the shit out of it. 

What makes this movie a timeless classic is this: it brings out the child in us. And I don't mean the child who wants to go see animated spy hamsters roll around for an hour an a half (guilty as charged). I mean that feeling of absolute wonderment we get when we see something for the first time. That unbridled curiosity, the desire to know, to feel, to touch, to jump out of a moving car because hell, if the animals won't come to us, we'll go to them. Really, it's a filmmaker's wet dream, the ability to capture the essence of filmmaking in one solid film. You want to wow me, give me dinosaurs, give me lovable characters, give me a score that I can feel expand in my ribcage. 

Image from businessinsider.com.

The brilliant thing is, Jurassic Park is about so much more than dinosaurs. It's about Dr. Alan Grant, played by you'll-never-get-a-better-role Sam Neill, who finds something in him capable of change, of evolution. It's about Dr. Ellie Sattler, played by you'll-really-never-get-a-better-role Laura Dern, who constantly challenges male hierarchy and, more often than not, beats them at their own game. Can I get a holla for a badass female character who doesn't have to hide her femininity or the fact that her biological clock is ticking to be considered a "badass?" Jurassic Park is about Dr. Ian Malcolm (you'll-never-be-hotter Jeff Goldblum), who constantly warns the heroes of the chaos to come but doesn't get to say I-told-you-so until it's far too late. More than anything, however, this movie is about motherfucking John Hammond (thank-you-for-your-awesome-face Richard Attenborough), who you love, then hate, then love some more, because he's flawed to his core but hell, at the end of the day, we can't really blame him.

Of course, I have to give a shout out to my favorite people in film: the minor characters. Those who doesn't get half as much love as they should because at the end of the day, they're the shoulders the heroes stand on to get to the finish line. First, we've got a rebellion-son subplot which, honestly, didn't need to be there, but hell, the 90s were good to Wayne Knight. So sure, the storm could've come through and ripped out the security systems and let all the dinosaurs loose, but that wouldn't have been half as fun, nor would it have been half as human, to watch Dennis bumble around and taunt a small, curious, and--dare we say--sassy dilophosaurus. Then we've got the two grandkids, Tim and Lex Murphy, who just had Steven Spielberg stamped all over them. If anyone knows how to write realistic, witty, and badass children, it's Steven Spielberg. He's pretty much the only director that can throw children on the screen and not kill the movie instantly. True story.

Image from fyeahjurassicpark.tumblr.com.

But hey, this wouldn't be a Smoking Pen review if I didn't give a shout out to my man Samuel L. Jackson. Who knew he could play such a damn good nerd? Especially when he's burning through cigarettes like no tomorrow. Finally, my favorite character, Robert Muldoon, played by Bob Peck. He's a small role, but he's a hunter who gets what was coming to him while, at the same time, going out in a blaze. It's a subtle character, but you feel both satisfied by his death and redeemed. Plus, he has the line, "clever girl." Can't top that.

And the end of the day, despite the epic actors and the even more epic dinosaurs, we have to acknowledge the fact that it was the score that really put the movie miles ahead of all other monster movies. That feeling of awe you get when you see the Brachiosaurus rear up to get the high leaves? The intensity that builds as the children climb the electric fence? The moment you fall in love with motherfucking pelicans? Yes, the writing is great, I'm really happy for you, I'ma let you finish--but can I please shake John Williams' hand? I'd wax poetic, but I'm really just going to let it speak for itself. Enjoy 3:20 of motherfucking instrumental magic. Bitches.

My Ass May Be Dumb, But I Ain't No Dumbass.

JACKIE BROWN (1997)

AKA: The Ordell Robbie story.

It's the last day of the month, which can only mean one thing: time for me to sneak in my Tarantino review! This month, we've got none other than the dear Jackie Brown (1997). To be honest, Jackie Brown is not exactly my favorite Tarantino. Don't get me wrong: I still love it to death. It's like broken Oreo in the box--it's still got all the right ingredients, it's just not as satisfying as the rest. It's also probably the Tarantino that I've seen the least. With that said, I think Jackie Brown is highly underrated by many--especially me. Rewatching it this time around gave me a level of appreciation for the film's subtleties that I'd brushed off the last time around while I was waiting for a gun to go off. 

Swag.

The Plot: Jackie Brown is a rarity among Tarantino movies for one simple reason: it's not original material. Rather, it's based off of Rum Punch by Elmore Leonard. In a way, it shows. While it still certainly feels like a Tarantino movie, Jackie Brown is a little more "tame" than most Tarantinos go. There's not a lot of excessive swearing, shooting, or shamelessness. Rather, it's Tarantino's tribute to blaxploitation films, all while showing off the lovely Pam Grier. 

The Music: Like all Tarantino films, the music is spot on. Some of it is background music, but most of the music is used as part of the scene--something Jackie Brown puts on her record player or something Ordell cranks up on his car radio. It adds a little something to the film and puts the audience right in the middle of it, rather than keeping us as a voyeuristic distance. Also, fun fact: they play (a fucking epic) Strawberry Letter 23 by the Brothers Johnson, which also appears on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. Go figure. 

The Characters: I know the movie is called Jackie Brown, but in my mind, this is the Ordell Robbie story. If you watch this movie for anything, you have to watch it for Samuel L. Jackson. This is, hands down, my favorite performance he's ever given. Granted, Jules Winnfield from Pulp Fiction is probably my favorite character Samuel L. Jackson has under his belt, but if you want a solid display of Jackson's acting skills, turn to Ordell. Ordell is a mean motherfuckin' gangster. Hard like panther. He's not Samuel L. Jackson's typical anti-hero or Jedi. He's a genuinely manipulative, evil son of a bitch. But he's also a character with a lot of subtly to him. He's paranoid, he's got a big ego, and he's got a soft spot for his "surfer girl." Oh, and did I mention the hair? Scrap everything I just said. See it for the hair.

Max Cherry + Puppy Dog Eyes.

Then, of course, there's my girl Jackie Brown. One of the most badass Tarantino women of all time. What's so great about Jackie Brown? Well, for starters, she's about the least likely badass around. She's a 40-something fight attendant working for a shitty airport. Despite her humble appearances, she's got the brain of an expert thief and works the system to her advantage. She knows how to smuggle, how to steal, but more importantly, how to get exactly what she wants. The funny thing is, she's not even that great of a manipulator. She manipulates by telling the truth. If she wants something, she'll tell you upfront exactly what she wants. She doesn't beat around the bush. But she's so confident and methodical, it's really hard to say no.

Of course, the interesting thing about Jackie Brown is that she is a really human character. She has her weaknesses. She gets emotional, she doesn't like being yelled at, and she has a soft spot for clothes shopping. But she's her own woman, and that is, in the end, what makes her stand out from the rest. She falls in love, but she doesn't give herself over to it. At the end of the day, she's still Jackie Brown: the one woman act. 

Speaking of love interest, Max Cherry, played by Robert Forster, is not actually my all-time favorite character. I understand he's supposed to be the hardboiled detective-style nice guy, and maybe that's the problem. Tarantino is talented at writing clever, can't-help-but-love-'em badasses who carry guns and wreck havoc. Max Cherry doesn't even drink or smoke. He just has too much of a halo for Quentin Tarantino's pen. Or maybe it's just Robert Forster I'm not a big fan of. Either way, his character has a bad habit of draining the energy from the screen, which is something this dude cannot abide. The only time he gets really interesting is when he mentions holding a stun gun, but by that time we're already more than halfway into the movie and he's already racked up too many yawns.

AKA: the misfits of the criminal world.

And then we've got our lovable side-characters. Robert De Niro, possibly one of the last people I'd expect in a Tarantino film, is hilarious as the frumpy ex-convict. But his best bits are, without a doubt, his scenes with Bridget Fonda. She's gorgeous and has great feet, which is really all you want from a Tarantino-girl. She plays the snide, pothead surfer-girl, Melanie, and possibly one of my favorite characters in the film if only for her snark and her attitude. Together, they're brilliant and add a good deal of energy to the movie. 

Other than that, we've got Michael Keaton playing Ray Nicolette, the sneaky tool of an ATF agent. He's slick, and more than that, a lot slicker than he thinks he is. His partner is the slightly more down-to-earth Mark Dargus (Michael Bowen), with an excellent mustache to his name. Chis Tucker plays his typical high-energy fuck up. And be on the look out for Simone. That's all I can say about her.

The Conversation: The phone debate. Without a doubt. It's the first full-scene of the film (minus the Jackie Brown credit sequence) and yet has got to be my favorite. Ordell goes off on his love of guns ("AK-47. The very best there is. When you absolutely, positively got to kill every motherfucker in the room, accept no substitutes."), Melanie shows off her legs, and Louis (De Niro) looks stuck somewhere in between the two. And then the phone goes off, and Ordell and Melanie get caught in a game of chicken, fighting over who has to answer the phone. If ever a man could explode someone's head with his eyes, it would be Samuel L. Jackson.

The Iconic Moment: Ordell spends about five minutes convincing Beaumont to get inside the trunk of his car so Beaumont can help him with the element of surprise during a trade-off. After a good couple guilt-trips, threats, and finally an appeal to Beaumont's stomach, the other man climbs in the trunk of Ordell's car. Ordell pumps up the music, smiles, and drives around the block into an abandoned lot, where he opens the trunk and unloads his gun in Beaumont. Genius. Pure genius. Everything about that scene drips with brilliant screenwriting. And this is why Tarantino is iconic. 

The Mexican Standoff: Don't remember the Mexican Standoff in Jackie Brown? That would be because there isn't one. It's one of the few Tarantino films that doesn't have a Mexican Standoff, though I am tempting to count the phone-debate in this category.

Classic Tarantino shot.

And that's all for Jackie Brown! Brilliant, underrated Tarantino film. If you haven't seen it, fix that. Immediately. Up next in the QT Blogathon is...drum roll...Kill Bill Vol. 1! It's one of my favorites, one of the Tarantinos I've seen the most, and has the gorgeous Uma Thurman. I'm stoked. If you have any Jackie Brown posts, hit me up at mhufstader (at) gm.slc.edu sometime around today or tomorrow and I'll put them up. So far, I've got no one in the Jackie Brown camp, so I might just have a post solely for you! Otherwise, email me between now and the end of August with something about Kill Bill Vol. 1 and I'll add it to my jar of eyeballs collection. 

Bad Mother Fucker.

PULP FICTION (1994)

Image from screencream.com.

Last Minute M. strikes again! I still have a few hours of daylight, shut it. Either way, it's May, which means it's Pulp Fiction time! I will admit, this review was (and still is) a little daunting for me to write. Pulp Fiction is one of my all time favorite movies, but when it comes to actually talking about the movie, it's hard to articulate exactly what makes it such a fucking classic. Still, for the sake of QT Blogathon, I grit my teeth and powered through. As they say: Fuck pride.

The Plot: Where do begin? Pulp Fiction is a bit of a doozy in that it doesn't actually have a cookie-cutter plot or narrative. Instead, we've got a couple different stories on our plate. We have Bruce Willis, the aging boxer who doesn't go down when he should and has to keep the mob off his tail. We have Jules and Vincent, the two mobsters who get in trouble when a job goes south and they're forced to clean up the mess. And we have Vincent and Mia, the mob boss' wife, who go out on a completely platonic date. But even laying each subplot out like that just doesn't do the movie justice. It's a twisted and jumbled ensemble film, and it works. Completely. In a way that would never work again. Tarantino, thank you for breaking the mold once more.

The Music: This one is filled with some really great tracks. As in all Tarantino movies, the music isn't something that hides in the shadows and comes out to play whenever there's an Oscar moment in the works. Rather, the music has a life of its own and keeps up with the pace of the movie. There are not a lot of film soundtracks I could listen to repetitively and never get tired of, but this is one of them. From Al Green's Let's Stay Together to Dusty Springfield's Son Of A Preacher Man, it's a soundtrack that rides right along with the excellence of the movie. And, of course, Misirlou will forever be known as the Pulp Fiction theme song. Not to mention, it's hard to listen to Flowers On The Wall by the Statler Brothers without doing Bruce Willis' "kangaroo" face.

The Characters/The Actors: I couldn't do different sections to describe the characters and actors this time around for one simple reason: the actors completely vanish in this movie. Pulp Fiction is just one of those movies I can't watch and namedrop, which is a compliment coming from someone who sounds like she's reciting fucking IMDB when she watches a movie. Still, the writing is so fucking good that major names like Samuel L. Jackson, Bruce Willis, and John Travolta disappear into the badassitry that is their characters.

Is this what you call an uncomfortable silence?

One person I have to give a shout out to, however, is Uma Thurman's portrayal of Misses Mia Wallace. Uma Thurman, as she has proved in recent years, can be a bit of a hit and miss actress. Anyone see My Super Ex-Girlfriend? Me neither. Nonetheless, say what you will, but under Tarantino's direction, Uma is phenomenal. She's his muse and his masterpiece. She fits perfectly into the skin of the eccentric mob wife, Mia Wallace, and recites Tarantino's lines with ease and character. What can we say? The lady's got spunk.

Lastly, there are a handful of minor characters that need mention. Amanda Plummer is a fucking wild woman as "Honey Bunny". Eric Stoltz is awesome, as always, will someone please tell me why he fell off the face of cinema? Peter Greene is an underrated creepy bastard. Winston "The Wolf" will never be replicated. Maria de Medeiros is adorable and French (and has lesbian sex with Uma Thurman. My life is complete). One after the other, all badass characters. 

The Conversation: What does Marcellus Wallace look like? I had to think long and hard about this one. Because it's really, really impossible to pick one gem of dialogue out of a movie filled with brilliance. However, I've got to hand it to Jules. Samuel L. Jackson has always been the guy who turns Tarantino's dialogue into poetry, and he doesn't fall short here. The entire scene is brilliant--from the infamous Royale With Cheese conversation to a heated debate about foot massages. And once the two mobsters do finally push their way into the room, it's on. Jules is one intimidating motherfucker, and the last person you want to invite over for breakfast. I dare anyone to try to look that frightening eating a burger. And then not only is his interrogation brilliant, but we get the monologue. The bible verse. In any other movie, with any other actor, this would be a copout moment. I mean, c'mon. Bible verse. We've seen it done a thousand and one times, right (I'm looking at you, Boondock Saints)? But somehow, it just works. Don't ask me how. If I knew the recipe for Tarantino script writing, I would not be writing this blog in Barnes & Noble and enjoying free wifi.

Strut.

The Iconic Moment: And then Tarantino does something brilliant. He puts the King Of Swagger on the dance floor. Think about it: what put John Travolta on the map? Busting moves in the likes of Grease and Saturday Night Fever. What put him back on the map? Boogying it up with Uma Thurman on the dance floor. It's the perfect transition from their dinner conversation, their bantering back-and-forth, the tension between the two. They keep time with each other, moving close, pulling away, but most importantly, never taking their eyes off each other. It's not only an extension of their conversation, it elevates the conversation. And, no. They don't have to bump and grind against each other to get a good sexual tension going, thank you very much. I'll take Uma's scuba diver any day of the week.

Fun Fact: I saw Be Cool just to watch Travolta and Thurman dance again.

Image from barlowbrewing.com.

The Mexican Standoff: Of course, our iconic Mexican Standoff. Between Jules, Vincent, "Honeybunny", and "Ringo". Really, this standoff is just another excuse for Jules to be the badass he is. And I am 100% okay with that.


The Suitcase: Fuck you, fucking briefcase of mystery. What the shit is in the briefcase???

And that's all I've got for Pulp Fiction. Because it's damn hard to do a movie like that justice. Next up: From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)! Even though I'm fully aware that it's a Tarantino-Rodriguez joint flick. With that said, I've already reviewed From Dusk Till Dawn, so I might have to go against the grain of my own blogathon. I'm thinking of taking a stab at Four Rooms (1995), since it has a Tarantino segment. Either way, if anyone has Pulp Fiction posts they want to throw at me, email me at mhufstader (at) gm.slc.edu and I'll put them all up sometime tomorrow!

Oh, yeah. And did I mention this happened?

"It Ain't White Boy Day, Is It?"

TRUE ROMANCE (1993)

And they say Tarantino doesn't do romance.

Missed me? Forgot I existed? Yeah, so did I. Truth me told, I've been massively A-To-Zing o'er here, so I've had little to no time to do anything else. However! I do not shirk responsibility. At least, not when it's something epic and fun like a Quentin Tarantino Blogathon. And so I rallied and sat down to watch True Romance, a film I've surprisingly only seen once before. Truth be told, True Romance isn't my favorite Tarantino film. For one simple reason: it's not really a Tarantino film. Yes, he wrote the script, and you can see that "gutter poetry" of his rearing its head here and there. Still, at the end of the day, it's a Tony Scott film, with a couple Tarantino highlights to keep you going. 

Plot: True Romance follows the story of Clarence, a nerd who can't quite luck out with the ladies because he's too busy watching samurai films. Ring any bells? He meets the woman of his dreams, Alabama, only to find out she's a hooker who's been hired by his boss to give him a good time. What happens next is a bloody trail of evidence that proves just how far two people will go to stay together.

Image from listal.

The Music: While watching the film, the music was the one, constant, nagging reminder that this was not a Tarantino film. I have to wonder what this film would look like if it was given a more "Taratino score". You know what I mean--Al Green, Dusty Springfield--all those great, classic artists who could definitely crank out a good, romantic tune. To be honest, the music really might be the one thing that forced me to knock this movie down a peg. It sounds petty, and maybe it is, but after the second, third, hundredth time Clarence and Alabama's theme song came around, I was ready to stab Hans Zimmer in the thumb piano. Don't get me wrong. I love Hans Zimmer. Inception will always get me in the mood to transverse time and space. However, this song was so fake-cheery every time it played I got the image of a bunch of African children laughing and chasing after some white married couple riding a horse down a beach off into the sunset. Don't even pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about.

Image from my.spill.com.

The Characters: Clarence and Alabama are our two main characters and, really, two excellent fucking characters. Let's look at the facts. Clarence is, yes, a movie-geek and a bit of a socially inept nerd. However, he's also incredibly quick on his feet and great at manipulating everyone around him. Mainly due to the fact that he has a small Elvis living inside of him telling him what to do. That's right, Clarence is basically the profile of every serial killer that's snapped and shoved bodies under his floorboards because a voice in his head told him to. Or maybe it's just Christian Slater who hasn't sat right with me since Heathers (1988). Either way, we can't help but love him because he's Clarence and he does everything he does for one simple reason: he's crazy about Alabama.

And who can blame him? I'm crazy about Alabama. What's not to love? She's played by the beautiful Patricia Arquette and she's a fucking powerhouse. Here's what I love about Alabama: she's fierce, she's a wild woman, and she will hold her own and get the shit beat out of her. And she's so fucking femme. She's no Sarah Conner. She doesn't chop off her hair, dirty up her face, and strap an uzi onto her back. But she's not a useless booby-prop either. Alabama doesn't conform to the stereotypical female love interest role, and for that, we salute her. I mean, c'mon. That scene where she gets beat to all hell? One of my favorite moments on the movie and a powerful fucking rebuttal to all those useless damsel in distress roles. Rock on, Alabama, rock on.

Image from cimemovies.fr.

The Actors: One of the best things about this movie are the many famous faces that pop up when you least expect them. And so, roll call: Gary Oldman reminds us that he can do anything. Samuel L. Jackson makes Tarantino's poetry sing and then leaves as quickly as he came. Brad Pitt gives Pineapple Express (2008) something to look forward to and, frankly, still does a better job of it. Christopher Walken is his usual beast of a man. Dennis Hopper does a fantastic job at playing Clarence's once dead-beat dad. More on him later. Val Kilmer is unrecognizable, but that's kind of the point anyway. Chris Penn's face always makes me happy. James Gandolfini is terrifying as shit. And a couple you may not know but now you officially should: Bronson Pinchot is whiny, sleazy, and perfect for the role. Michael Rapaport is my new favorite bad actor. And Saul Rubinek steals the show as every producer you wish you didn't know. It's just a great fucking list of names and everyone fits in their role perfectly. There's not a bad apple in the bunch. Now that is an accomplishment in itself.

The Conversation/The Iconic Moment: I had to put these two in the same category because there really is only one crowning moment in this film. One purely Tarantino, fucking magical moment. One moment, and shit suddenly got real. And that's none other than the "conversation" between Clifford Worely (Dennis Hopper) and Vincenzo Coccotti (Christopher Walken). If there's anyone more terrifying that Christopher Walken, I hope I never encounter them because they will surely hunt my nightmares until my dying day. The dude's a fucking rockstar of intimidation. And Dennis Hopper, who's had my love since Easy Rider (1969), gives it right back to him. The chemistry between these two kills me. Every time. But at the end of the day, what it boils down to is this: it's just a brilliant fucking script. The slow build, the uneasy tension, the final culmination of it all...damn. All I can say. If you never see this film, at very least, watch this scene. Now excuse me while I watch it a couple hundred times.

The Mexican Standoff: Really, where would we be without a good, old-fashioned, Mexican Standoff? The funny thing about it is, despite the fact that this is a signature Tarantino move, this scene kept giving me flashbacks of various other films. Like Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels (1998), where all our different characters quite literally collide with another at the end. Or even Boogie Nights (1997), where our hero comes to terms with his downfall in the middle of a rotten drug deal. Which is, clearly, unfair of me, since all those movies came after True Romance. And it wasn't that I didn't like the scene--trust me, I did. I just kept getting the feeling that it was something I'd seen before. Still, I will never say no to a good gun fight, especially with a couple epic feather-covered death scenes. Rock on.

Image from gq.com.

Fun Facts: This movie actually has quite few little facts surrounding the production, especially since Quentin Tarantino sold the script and then stepped away from it completely. True Romance is an elaboration on Tarantino's first film project, My Best Friend's Birthday. It's also the most autobiographical of Tarantino's scripts, which we kind of figured out anyway. C'mon. Clarence is an Elvis man who practically lives at the movie theater when he's not pursuing comic books. We can see the connection. It's also worth noting that this script was originally a monster of a movie that was split up between True Romance and Natural Born Killers. Between you and me, I think Natural Born Killers is a better romance, but I'm willing to fight about it.

And now for my favorite bit, which even I didn't catch the first time around. Remember good old Reservoir Dogs? In Mr. White's flashback, he mentions working alongside a wild woman who went by the name of Alabama. Starting to put the pieces together? Clarence was originally supposed to die in the shootout, leaving Alabama on her own to turn to the life of crime. And this is why we love being die-hard Tarantino fans. Talk about world building. J. R. R Tolkien has nothing on that shit.

And that's a wrap for True Romance. If you've got any True Romance posts you want to throw at me, hit me up at mhufstader (at) gm.slc.edu before May 1st and I'll give you a shout out. Next up, my favorite movie of all time: Pulp Fiction (1994). 

Blogathon: The Movie Of My Life.

So I stumbled upon Wide Screen World's blogathon "The Movie Of My Life" a while ago. The general idea of the thing is you cast the people in your life with actors who have qualities similar to your homies. Which is good fun, but I realized jumping on this bandwagon would be the perfect way for me to let you peeps know about a little change in my life that's coming up which may alter what goes down on this blog ever so slightly. Fasten your seat belts, because the contents of reality may shift during this post. 

Here's a story. M., the tiny, white girl with a lust for all things action, can clearly only be played by one actor:

Who were you expecting, bitch?

BAMF Of The Week: Jesus Christ

JESUS CHRIST

"God...you are me are DONE professionally."

Now I'm not religious by any stretch of the imagination. But what with surviving the apocalypse and all, I figured it was about time I made J. C. the BAMF of the week. Storywise, it's a good one--he feeds the poor, he makes sure no one goes to work sober, and he accepts his gay tendencies with his man Judas (it's not that Christians hate the gays...it's just that when they see them kissing, they're afraid it's a signal, and they're doing their best to save the gays from crucifixion. True story). And then we've got the whole bit with the torture on the cross, rolling back a bigass rock with his body building muscles, and coming back from the dead to be the motherfucking savior of mankind. I think it's fair to say he'd give Samuel L. Jackson a run for his money in the ultimate badass title. 

Except for the fact that, cinematically, Jesus has an impressive resume of resembling Shiva the Destroyer rather than any savior. When he's not doing shitty Hallmark movies, he's destroying trilogies. There's seems to be a popular theory going around that claims that so long as you put religious symbolism in your shitty action movie, your film is redeemed from all it's sins. More often than not, this is not true. You can find an expansive and entertaining list of religious faux pas here.

However. There is the occasional movie that will use religious symbolism to blow everyone else out of the holy motherfucking water. Sometimes, they just snag a line or two from the Bible to look like badasses when they're killing someone. Other times, a movie will straight up go all out with the Jesus symbolism, but will do it in such a kickass way that you can't help but bow at their altar. These false idols are to be worshipped with a constant supply of dead chickens and burned copies of Twilight on their shrine. 

Best Films: Blade Runner (1982), Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade (1989), Pulp Fiction (1994), Boondock Saints (1999). 

Worst Films: I don't know, I don't watch the Hallmark channel. Though I will throw up Mel Gibson's snuff film.

Noteworthy Actors: Christian Bale (AKA: "God, we're fucking done professionally"), Ralph Fiennes (AKA: the only man to play both a Nazi and Jesus), William Dafoe (AKA: the only time Jesus looked like a pedophile), Kenneth Colley (AKA: the only time Jesus made me laugh), Garret Dillahunt (AKA: the redneck Jesus).

Trivia: There's a Bible audiobook in which Samuel L. Jackson is the voice of God. Now that's a sermon I might actually stay awake for. 

"At The Crime Scene, LOL."

THE OTHER GUYS (2010)

Image from blog.timesunion.com

Alright, director Adam McKay. You win. I wasn't that big a fan of Anchorman (2004), even though the rest of the world seems to have loved it, and I didn't bother going to see Step Brothers (2008) because, again, not crazy about Adam McKay's work. Or Will Ferrell. Actually, there's something about Will Ferrell that just plain pisses me off. It's not personal, it's just an unwarranted vendetta I have going against his face. I see his face and I'm turned off to the movie all together. However. Saving grace. Mark Wahlberg. Ah, Mark Wahlberg. All it took was one viewing of Scorsese's film The Departed (2006) and I was hooked on him. It was that character--Staff Sgt. Dignam. In case you've forgotten who he is, you can refer here. In any case, he was a character hard not to fall in love with. So, imagine my pleasant surprise when I found the exact same character in another movie--Adam McKay's creation The Other Guys. Except instead of being Staff Sgt., he was pencil pusher Terry Hoitz with anger management issues, a surprisingly good ballet foot, and a restraining order. There is a God. 

Image from http://mimg.ugo.com/

The Other Guys follows Terry Hoitz and Allen Gamble (Will Ferrell), two police partners who spend most of their time behind the desk, filling out paperwork. While this is a more than satisfactory job for Allen, Terry can't stand being harassed by the so called "heros" of New York City and hungers to get his gun out and his hands dirty. In a classic bit of "be careful what you wish for", Allen unwittingly gets them involved in a major Ponzi Scheme-type case and they get in over their head. And that's the plot. Which, in a comedy or an action movie, is usually just about the least important part of the movie. On to the good stuff.

First, I have to say something about the genre of the movie. Yes, it's a comedy. We've got that much down. But it's also...just a good movie. It's not a string of one-liners haphazardly thrown together. It's got interesting characters we can relate to, a fleshed out plot, and...wait for it...some really badass action scenes. That's right. It makes a legitimately good action movie just on it's own. We have our hero characters, we have rival police partners, we have the bad guys. They've got an awesome fight scene in the office where Mark Walhberg slides down the table shooting up the office (to the sounds of the White Stripes "Icky Thump"...the music makes half the action, really. That goes for most action films in my opinion. Put a killer score to it...and I'm with you). There's a couple well placed car chase scenes, and another great moment when Terry and Allen go drinking. In short, it's a cop movie spoof, sure. But it's done clearly from someone who digs cop movies, and it shows. 

Will Ferrell, Steve Coogan, and Mark Wahlberg.

Another surprise this movie threw my way. I actually liked Will Ferrell. Yeah, I know, everyone's like "Oh, but Elf (2003) was really touching". I failed to see the heartwarming Christmas movie about Will Ferrall being a super tall cast out elf, so I wouldn't know. But in most everything else, he's one of those comedic actors that just rubs me the wrong way. His characters come off kind of arrogant and repulsive in a way I can't quite put my finger on. However, as Allen, his character is, for once, the soft and gentle one. He just wants to sit behind his desk and stay out of everyone's way. And he actually acted it really well. I was endeared. It helped that he had great chemistry with Mark Walhberg, and their characters balanced each other out well. Allen's calm and rational attitude worked well against Terry's violent outbursts, drug lord paranoia, and constant petty insecure hissy fits (which were magically tamed by Eva Mendes' fantastic rack). The best moments in the movie revolved around them bantering it out--and usually ended with spilt coffee, a destroyed FBI mug, or convoluted Miranda Rights.

Image from listal.

Well. Most of the best moments. Every other moment was stolen completely by Samuel L. Jackson. If it's not obvious, I think this man is the shit. And he was perfectly cast in this role. Why? Because the whole premise of the character revolved around the fact that the audience could believe that, no matter what he did, he would come out without a scratch on the other end. And, since he was Samuel L. Jackson, I was with them the entire way, I believed he could do anything. Which made the ultimate punch line for his character that much more rewarding. I didn't stop laughing about that one until about halfway through the movie.

The Other Guys has a great sense of humor, badass action sequences, and an excellent buddy-buddy dynamic. In short, it's kind of hard not to enjoy. In case you need a little more convincing, I give you this Animal Planet gem. Enjoy.

BAMF Of The Week: Samuel L. Jackson

SAMUEL L. JACKSON

Image from actionskeptics.blogspot.com

Welcome to a new feature, inspired by the brilliant site Badass Of The Week. This is really no different from that, except these are Badass Motherfuckers. If you're scratching your head for the difference, here you go:

Bad*ass |'bad,as| informal
noun
1. a person who kicks ass on a regular basis and heightens the testosterone levels of anyone within 10 feet of him/her/it.
2. Chuck Norris.

Bad*ass moth*er*fuck*er |'bad,as 'məðərˌfəkər| informal
noun
1. a person who kicks ass on a regular basis and heightens the testosterone levels of anyone within 10 feet of him/her/it, after which he/she/it goes home and engages in intercourse with your mother.
2. BAMF.
3. Distant cousin to Samuel L. Jackson's wallet.
synonyms: a mushroom cloud laying motherfucker, motherfucker. 

As you can see, two completely different things. Clearly. With that, I'd like to kick off BAMF of the week with the ultimate BAMF, Samuel L. Jackson. The thing about this man is that it's impossible for him to be un-cool. I would not be surprised if he walks around everywhere with an orchestra behind him playing 70s Blaxplotation music. He's a cool cat until you set him off, and then you're going to wish you hadn't. He's got a voice of authority that will reign terror on your and your firstborn, especially when reciting Bible verses. He's gone from gangster-to-shepherd in Pulp Fiction (1994), he's done his best to save the prequels as Mace Windu, and he's suffered some very nasty animal attacks (Snakes On A Plane (2006), Jurrassic Park (1993) and Deep Blue Sea (1999)). He's been animated, narrated, and sung the blues. He's stolen every screen with his terrifying charm and preached classic line after classic line with that unforgettable voice. Samuel L. Jackson is, without a doubt, the ultimate badass motherfucker.