"America's Not A Country. It's A Business."

KILLING THEM SOFTLY (2012)

Image from screenrant.com.

Killing Them Softly takes place in a dystopian world where America is enslaved by its own debt. People live like vultures in poverty, killing and stealing just to get by in an economy that chews them up and spits them out, leaving them with no other options except self-destruction. 

Oh. Wait. This isn't science fiction. This is a raw and bloody reminder of America after the Bush years, when the economy fell on its face thanks to a couple shaky-fingered puppeteers and the little guy was the one chosen to pick up the soap. I know you thought you were going to the movies to see Brad Pitt be a fucking badass and kill some bitches, but you were wrong. This movie is a blood-fest, no doubt about it, but it's a political commentary, first and foremost. And don't worry, Republicans, Obama gets shit for it too. 

Honestly, it's hard for me to give this movie a proper response. As an action movie, it falls a little short. The script has holes. There are long stretches of monologue. The third act leaves a little to be desired. As a cynical as fuck commentary on the state of the world, it succeeds. In short, this is the kind of thing that might've made a better play than it does a movie (all the satire and none of the explosions), if it wasn't for the brilliant editing and shocking imagery. 

Let's start with the good stuff. The first thirty minutes or so are flawless. The dialogue is great, the characters are sharp and well defined. We've got Frankie (Scoot McNairy) and Russell (Ben Mendelsohn), two less-than-professional gangsters who will do just about any hairy job for a little money. They get hired to rob a regular high-stakes card game, run by Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta). So you know how Ray Liotta always plays the unflinching, can-kill-you-with-my-pinky badass? Well. Ray Liotta takes a turn for the worst as a sniveling push-over who gets the crap beaten out of him (by none other than Racetrack from Newsies. Think about it. Guess he bet on the wrong horse.). Maybe I'm being a little harsh on Trattman--he does, after all, hold up well under pressure and sticks to his story no matter how hard you punch him. Still, it's...well. Possibly one of the most gruesome beatings I've seen a guy take on the big screen. It's the kind of visceral, sickening violence that makes you want to send Ray Liotta a couple Get Well Soon balloons and a script for a Christmas-themed family comedy. 

On the topic of awesome characters, I have to mention Mickey, the emo hitman, played by James Gandolfini. Mickey has issues. He drinks, he fucks whores, and he spends a lot of time sopping up his tears while waxing poetic about his wife. Really, Gandolfini does an excellent job as a washed out hitman who's so miserable he can hardly get up the motivation to get out of his bathrobe. He's a pathetic character, but a well written pathetic character. 

Then there's our main man, Jackie (Brad Pitt). He's a cold, hard negotiator who knows how to talk his way out of most any situation. He's generally a "good guy," except for the whole killing thing. Really, he's a character I should be able to get behind. Except for the fact that the movie doesn't seem to do him justice. He's badass character, but he spends most of the film talking Mickey off the ledge. We don't get a lot of time seeing him in action. And when we do seem him beat the shit out of some people, well, sure, it's cool, but somehow it just doesn't feel like enough to live up to this awesome reputation he's built up for himself. Which maybe has something to do with the fact that his character never really breaks a sweat. He gets mildly irritated from time to time, but he never really faces any major obstacles. Because he doesn't have a "low point," it's hard to feel really satisfied when he pulls his badass moves and closes the job.

Brad Pitt's third-act issue isn't an isolated incident. Unfortunately, too many of the excellent characters (including Mickey the emo hitman) fail to get a decent wrap-up. Instead, they get a one-line sentence of exposition explaining how they did or didn't get their comeuppance, and leave it at that. Especially Dillon. Don't get me started on Dillon. Despite the fact that he's apparently a major antagonistic character, we never really see him, we never hear him. He just floats around like the Black Smoke Monster or something. And then when we finally hear about how he gets his, it comes without rhyme or reason. I take it back, the Black Smoke Monster had more personality than this guy. 

Stylistically, this movie holds up well. They play with sharp cuts and purposefully jarring editing. Another favorite moment of mine is when Russell the Aussie gets high and keeps floating in and out of consciousness. It's an effective style, even if they draw it out a little too long, and got a good chuckle from me. 

All in all, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this movie. The characters were really unique and enjoyable to watch. The acting was excellent (I hope to see Scoot McNairy a heck of a lot more after this). The monologues were great. The political commentary was on point, even if it did smother the plot from time to time. At the end of the day, it's a movie that tries pretty hard to blend two different genres and doesn't entirely pull it off. However, it's still an enjoyable movie with a lot of excellent violence and memorable characters. And Ray Liotta. Gets the shit beat out of him. I rest my case. 

First Things Fuckin' Last.

RESERVOIR DOGS (1992)

Tarantino's got junk in his trunk.

I know what you're thinking. M., really? It's your own damn QT Blogathon, and you still can't help but procrastinate like a little bitch? Yeah, yeah, so call me Last Second Sam. But I don't seem to be the only way with lastseconditis--if anyone wants to get in on Reservoir Dogs, now is the time! Send me (grasshopperon (at) earthlink.net) anything and everything you've written (even that old dusty piece you wrote some five years ago that's sitting on your shelf) about Reservoir Dogs before April 1st and I'll give you a shout out. Hell, I'm a procrastinator too, if you send it on April 1st, you'll probably get a shout out anyway. And if you don't, I've only got one person so far who's send me anything, so I'll just put his blog up in big sparkly letters and it'll be like his birthday all over again.

image from listal.

But, really, I understand--the truth is, it's incredibly hard to for me write about Reservoir Dogs. I think it has something to do with the fact that I start convulsing like a diabetic squirrel every time the movie comes up. It's just so fucking good. Period. It's so good, it's really hard to wrap my head around the fact that this is Quentin Tarantino's first full-on film--if you don't count My Best Friend's Birthday. Which everyone should give a look through anyway, just because 1) you get Tarantino ODing and 2) he finally admits his foot fetish. But back to The Dogs. I've come up with a list of all the ways Reservoir Dogs fills the quota for a Tarantino movie. Ramblers, let's get rambling. 

The Plot: It's a simple enough plot--a gang of thieves are stuck in a warehouse after a robbery gone bad and forced to figure out which one of them is the rat. It's practically textbook. Until Tarantino gets his hands on it, that is.

The Music: What astounds me about Reservoir Dogs is that Tarantino does not hold back. He isn't trying to please anyone. He's making the movie he wants, period. It has all of his signature moves: the long, drawn out conversations, the Mexican standoff, and of course, the hectic and often hilarious music. As the Dogs strut their stuff to Little Green Bag, you've gotta wonder if everyone knew quite how iconic this movie was going to turn out to be. Then to throw the whole movie on its head by ending on Harry Nilsson's Coconut--I mean, who does that shit? Tarantino does that shit. Black humor is really what sells Tarantino movies time and time again--after all, it's be easy to sell this off as a tense drama with a lot of hard stares and overcompensating tough guys. Instead, we've got Mr. Orange flailing in his own blood (over cheery music, I might add), Mr. Pink whining about tipping waitresses, and a Copacabana funeral hymn. There is no such thing as background music in a Tarantino movie, instead he uses it to heighten the hilarity of the situation and keeps us completely and utterly engaged. Then, of course, there's Stuck In The Middle With You. More on that later...

Badasses being badass.

The Characters: Despite the fact that this is about as ensemble as they get, if I had to pick two main characters they'd probably be Mr. Orange and Mr. White. Mr. White is one of those criminals you can't help but love--he's got a heart of gold, and while you don't particularly ever want to get on Mr. White's bad side, he's a very caring kind of guy. He spends the majority of the movie trying to comfort Mr. Orange and he stands up for things we can all get behind--like loyalty and bromance. Mr. Orange is the other side of that coin--he's a sneaky little undercover bastard, but on the same token, he's very human. A little cocky, maybe, a little reckless, but he's "the good guy"...or at least, he would be in any other film. However, in a movie filled to the brim with anti-heroes, it's the man of the law who becomes the closest thing to an antagonist. 

The Actors: Tarantino is known for doing two things: taking actors out of retirement and putting obscure faces on the map. And it's not hard to see why. Every Dog shines--from Harvey Keitel's no-nonsense bull dog mug to Tim Roth's frantic terrier energy to Steve Buscemi's wide-eyed Chihuahua yaps. If you're wondering what happened to those infamous dogs playing poker, look no further.

And I've got to give some love and attention to the supporting cast. Of course, Michael Madsen, my man. But I'm talking about Chris Penn, who was underrated in his time, but always a joy to watch. Seriously, you can tell why Nice Guy Eddie doesn't really come into present tense of the film until the end because when he is in it, he steals the fucking camera. Also, I will add that Chris Penn and Michael Madsen were very close in real life, and their chemistry shows when they're rolling around on Big Daddy's floor together. Speaking of Big Daddy, Lawrence Tierney. Apparently a pain in the ass to work with. You have to listen to the stories to believe them, so I'm just going to put the video up here. But damn...worth the pain. Joe Cabot is the quintessential mob boss man, and you don't get much better than that.

The Conversation: I mean, really. What would a Tarantino movie be without those long, drawn out conversations that he's the absolute master of perfecting? I've heard some people complain that they get bored whenever the characters dive into conversations about movies or music or whateverthefuck, but those people clearly aren't listening. Although they seem random, they never are--they always divulge important information about the characters while steadily building a natural yet intense tension.

In my opinion, there are two really brilliant conversations in Reservoir Dogs. The first is, of course, the opening scene. AKA: Madonna's Big Dick. It's hilarious, it's natural, and it sets up the characters relationships for the entire movie. We've got tension between Mr. Blonde and Mr. White, which in turn highlights Mr. Blonde's loyalty to Joe Cabot. We've got Mr. Orange trying to blend in and doing his damnedest to be "one of the guys". We've got Mr. Pink showing his true selfish colors as the one character focused entirely on his own survival. It's a ten minute conversation about music and address books, but it sets up the tone of the movie and gives us an insight into every one of the characters at the table.

The second conversation that I love is more of a monologue than anything. Mr. Orange's one story that's supposed to sell him as a completely legit criminal. It's a brilliant piece, complete with flashbacks and an occasional interjection from his audience. And it does a multitude of things all at once: it solidifies Mr. Orange's backstory, it shows him as the master storyteller he is, and it gives us a reason to root for him. Not to mention, it's just fucking hilarious. Oh, and hi, Lawrence Bender.

image from listal.

The Iconic Moment: You guessed it. My absolute favorite moment of the entire film--Stuck In The Middle With You. It works on every level imaginable. It's grotesque, it's painful, it makes me laugh, it makes me cringe, and it makes me love Michael Madsen more than I thought possible. And Mr. Blonde cuts a bitch's ear off. C'MON. From Madsen's funny twists and turns, to the way he talks into the severed body part, to the final, abrupt end, there is nothing I don't love about this scene. We even get a neat little intermission, following Mr. Blonde out of the warehouse to get his gas can. Dogs bark, birds sing, kids play. And then it's right back inside to finish up his twisted, bloody dance. No matter how many times I watch this scene, I can't get over it. Magic, my friends, fucking magic.

And then there's Kirk Baltz. Also known as Officer Marvin Nash. Give this man an award. Fun fact of the day: most of his panic was ad-libbed. Which is impressive to get away with, especially on a Tarantino set. Still, the moment when he starts on about his children at home? All improvisation. Looking for proof? Listen closely, the newly-turned-father Michael Madsen grumbles in displeasure off screen. Still, they kept the take, because Kirk Baltz is that fucking brilliant.

Image from gonemovies.com.

The Mexican Standoff: Where to end this lovefest except at the end? After running a perfect 90 minutes, the tension of the film finally culminates until a full on Mexican standoff. We've got the Cabots on one side--Joe and Nice Guy Eddie--and Mr. White on the other side, standing up for his ideals and his bromance. Never mind that the bromance is ill-fated and ends in tragedy. And, of course, the only one who makes it out alive is the never-tips-a-waitress Mr. Pink, who you can hear getting pulled over and arrested in the background. All in all, it was the only way this movie could've ended, and Tarantino pulls it off brilliantly. With coconuts. There is really nothing I don't love about this movie. If you haven't seen it, I pity the fool.

Coming up next: True Romance (1993). I'll be putting up all the (one?) Reservoir Dogs posts I receive on/around April 1st. April will in turn be the month of the True Romance, and if you send me any and everything you've got on the movie, I'll put up those posts on March 1st. Full speed ahead to Django!

Reason #245 Why The Brits Do It Better.

THE TAKE (2009)

Image from guardian.co.uk

So I'm cheating a little here. The Take (2009) isn't so much a movie as it is a four part miniseries which featured on the UK's Sky1. It's got the gangster intricacies of The Godfather (1972), but with a bonus of intense family sexual drama and Tom Hardy from Inception (2010). It runs a little something like this: Freddie (Tom Hardy) has just gotten out of prison and he's ready to get back into illegal action. Except this time, he's taking his unwitting cousin, the smart but too-loyal-for-his-own-good Jimmy (Shaun Evans), down with him.

Freddie is one hell of a character. He really is. First of all, he enters back into the real world after spending four years behind bars, and he doesn't play it safe. He doesn't settle in the bushes to take scope of how things have changed. Instead, he rips a hole into the neat, organized life of crime. Settling old vendettas, clashing against opposing mob factions, and killing his way to the top. And leaving Jimmy to sweep up the pieces. Where Freddie is the impulsive shoot-first-ask-question-never type, Jimmy is the brains of the business. He slowly moves up in rank and often works as a buffer between Freddie and their locked up boss, Ozzy (played by the ever talented Brian Cox). Which comes in handy when Freddie, you know. Kills a handful of "protected" people without a blink of his eyes.

Yes, it's all guns, drugs, and unfortunately sex for Freddie, which puts his wife, Jackie (Kierston Wareing from Fish Tank) through multiple jealous and paranoid fits of rage, cooled only by the liquid touch of the bottle to her lips. Jackie, who is just as volatile as her husband, somehow pulls herself together enough to take care of the four children Freddie barely brings himself to see (which gives their youngest son daddy issues with dire consequences). Lucky for Jackie, she has Maggie (Charlotte Riley), to look after her. Maggie, Jackie's little sister, Jimmy's fiancee, and the victim of Freddie's unwanted aggressive advances. It's an incestuous little circle they have, to say the least. Maggie proves to be the unspoken anchor of the family, taking care of her sister and giving Jimmy the confidence to pursue his own "career choices" (even if she doesn't quite agree with them...namely, the whole Freddie bit.)

Threatening promotional poster of awesome.

The performances are phenomenal. Tom Hardy, in short, is off the hook. You thought he was good in Inception (2010)? Oh no. Oho no. He's fantastic in this role. Playful enough that we want to like him, but with an uncontrolled psychopathic edge that leaves us wanting to run very quickly in the opposite direction. He reflects every one of this man's thousand different sides--sadistic, vulnerable, lonely, rebellious, humorous, protective, psycho-crazy. You name it, he's got it. Shaun Evans also pulls of an amazing performance, but can't help but be constantly muted in Tom Hardy's shadow. Which is the point of his character, so he pulls it off well. When Hardy is not on the screen, however, the girls steal the show. Charlotte Riley (who, funny enough, is currently engaged to Tom Hardy) is absolutely fantastic. I'm not sure where she's been all my life. But she nails some of the most utterly painful scenes in the movie and sinks them in to the hilt. Lastly, a mention to Brian Cox, who does the cold and calculated thing like a boss, and Kierston Wareing, who is still doing a good job convincing me she'd be a shit mother, yet somehow comes across as a very strong and sympathetic character by the end.

The reason I claim the Brits do it better is this: it has all the makings of something we've seen before. Gangsters. Estranged loyalties. Twisted "family" dynamics. The old killers slowly dying while the new ones crawl in with the taste of blood. However, this one story is simply crafted so bloody well (as they say). The story is intricate and rich with strain. We feel for every single one of these characters; no one is a saint, and no one is a sinner. Where at one point we'll love a certain character, in the next ten minutes we might find a reason to hate that character. They all do a complete 360, which is what I find most compelling about the story. But don't for a second mistake this for a slow-paced family drama. This is the brilliant part of it. The miniseries moves so damn fast, keeping the viewer on the edge, that once you're hooked in it's really hard to stop. It is, in the most basic sense, a gangster movie, and never forgets that. Yet the guns and drugs are somehow interwoven seamlessly with the character drama, which is what makes this show absolutely brilliant.

If you love gangsters, violence, and Tom Hardy, this is one you'll enjoy. However, if you love gangsters, violence, Tom Hardy, and extraordinarily complex characters, this is a must see. I will give one warning though, and that is that this series is not for the squeamish. The violence is both physical and sexual, and some of the deaths are...well. Just plain twisted. But they carry so much emotional weight, I promise it's worth it. Plus, this series pulls of an ending I've never seen any other gangster film even try to attempt. I'm just saying. Do we have any feminists in the house?

BAMF Of The Week: Staff Sgt. Dignam

STAFF SGT. DIGNAM

"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe fuck yourself."

Mark Wahlberg as Dignam from The Departed.

Staff Sgt. Dignam. The man swears like a sailor, he spends hours coming up with cutting and petty insults, and he has absolutely no mercy filter on his sharp tongue. Indiscriminately and randomly he attacks every single person who rubs him the wrong way. Doesn't matter if they're a senior officer, an extremely dangerous mobster, or Leonardo Dicaprio. And yet despite the fact that this man is a Grade A Asshole, he has his righteousness and his loyalty, and from that he won't back down. The Departed (2006) is a movie of epic proportions in itself, great movie, great plot, great characters, and yet still, Dignam steals the show completely. Now all I can do is sit back and wait for Departed Thunder (20??), in which Dignam and Les Grossman engage in a full out tongue-lashing epic battle of the wits. But between you and me, my bet's on Dignam.

Best moment: His last scene in the movie. Hands down.

Dignam revs up for a bitchslap.

Because he's so fucking quotable:
Police Camera Tech: Who the fuck are you?
Dignam: I'm the guy who does his job. You must be the other guy.

Dignam: My theory on Feds is that they're like mushrooms, feed 'em shit and keep 'em in the dark.

Lazio: Do you have anyone in with Costello presently?
Dignam: Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe fuck yourself.

Ellerby: Go fuck yourself.
Dignam: I'm tired from fucking your wife.
Ellerby: How is your mother?
Dignam: Good, she's tired from fucking my father.

Ho Ho Ho. Merry Christmas, You Naughty Motherfuckers.

BLACK SANTA'S REVENGE (2007)

Image from http://badazzmofo.com

Christmas came early this year, all thanks to a post made by The Lighting Bug's Lair. Santa with a gun, treacherous elves, slutty hookers who want nothing more than a chance to sit on Ol' Nick's lap? Yes, please. Black Santa's Revenge is a short blaxploitation flick staring Ken Foree, best known for his role in the original Dawn Of The Dead. Black Santa (not kidding, that's what he's listed as on IMDB) dons the costume of Santa and brings joy to the kids of the ghetto, promising them they'll get gifts even though their parents can't afford them. But Santa's got a surprise--a shit ton of toys shoved in the back for the kids this year. Yep. This Santa keeps his promises. Until a gangster who hates Santa AND Christmas comes and steals all the toys. And so it begins, and Black Santa goes on a roaring rampage of revenge to get the toys back and save Christmas.

The thing is, this is just one of those movies that's fun to say you saw it. "Oh, what'd you do for Christmas?" "Yeah, I dropped A Christmas Story this year and went with Black Santa's Revenge instead." It's fun, it's campy, and it's just one of those movies worth watching to get into the holiday spirit. As much as "Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra" will always make me laugh. Plus, it's only 20 minutes long, and it's worth every minute. Sure, it's low budget and it shows, but it you can get passed the "special effects" and artistic design, the plot is fun, the characters are hysterical, and Ken Foree makes one badass Santa.

"Making my list, checking it twice, gonna put all you naughty motherfuckers on ice."

It's basically impossible to get this movie unless you download it from the homepage, where you can get an online copy for only $3.99. Totally worth it. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.

Shoot First, Sightsee Later.

IN BRUGES (2008)

Thank you Dublin.

If you, like I, long to go out to see some brilliant movies that are coming out such as Black Swan or something fun and stupid like Due Date, but are stuck in the bone-softening, temperature-sensitive, curl-up-under-the-blankets-and-hibernate winter mode, here's one to put on your list to watch from the warm comfort of your yule log. Martin McDonagh, the acclaimed Irish playwright of the black comedy The Pillowman (shout out to my theatre connoisseur girlfriend for that one), proves once again that Europe just knows how to do gangster flicks better with his sharp-whited crime film, In Bruges. Don't get me wrong, fellow Americans--we've got the explosives. We've got the quick, extensive, choreographed fight scenes. We've got the mafia. But what we don't have is that gritty, harsh, sarcastic sense of humor in the macabre that Europeans seem to nail on the head every time. The close attention to character, dramatic relationships, and--thank god--crisp dialogue is something that is extraordinarily rare in American action films, and yet In Bruges captures it all and gives us a damn entertaining film worth its weight in expletives.

Image from www.poptheology.com

Welcome to the sleepy, Hallmark town of Bruges, Belgium. The resting place of waffles, medieval architecture, and two hitmen laying low after a job to off a priest turns sour when a little boy gets caught in the crossfire. Ken (played by the always-brilliant Brendan Gleeson) babysits his partner, the guilt-ridden Ray (Colin Farrell), as the two simply do their best to keep their sanity as they wait for their boss to give them the green light to come home. The simple enough premise gets thorny when Ken is assigned to a task that goes against the grain of his moral obligations and Ray, meanwhile, vies for the attention of a drop-dead gorgeous drug pusher (Clemence Poesy) with lethal complications.

It's really hard to give an accurate description of this movie without sounding like I'm pandering to the pseudo-intellectuals in us. But the truth is--yes, if you enjoy symbolism, redemption and damnation, and lovely little cinematic molehills planted in the beginning of the film which spin into mountain-sized explosive payoffs--this is the movie for you. However, if you just want to sit back, kick up your feet, and liquidate your brain--this is also the movie for you. The entertainment value is not to be undermined, and while the literary lovefest of deeper meanings and subtle complexities is there--there is excessive cursing, there are drugs, there are midgets (or dwarfs) who hang off the arms of Amsterdam whores. In short, it is impossible not to love this movie.

Image from the Guardian.

I may not be the biggest Colin Farrell fan (hey, anyone remember that movie Alexander? No? My point exactly), but he tore the house down in this film. It's hard not to love Ray, with his childlike impatience and punch-first-apologize-later attitude, who simultaneously carries a heavy burden of guilt on his shoulders. He's silly, absurd, and heartbreaking all at once, and between McDonagh's purely brilliant dialogue and Farrell's ease with which he slips into Ray's skin, the performance is amazing (the judges thought so too--Farrell won a Golden Globe for best actor in a musical/comedy). As for his buddy Ken, Bredan Gleeson, no surprise here, pulls off another fantastic performance as the "stick in the mud" yet sensible one of the two. And then there's their boss, Harry: father, husband, and top-dog gangster. Is there anything Ralph Fiennes can't do? His comic timing is hilarious, and he plays the perfect "cunt". Lastly, a shout out to Clemence Poesy, who some may know as Fleur from Harry Potter, but who I know as the charming, man-eating pusher with a sadistic edge, and Jordan Prentice, who deserves many more roles than simply "the token midget" and proves you don't have to be "this tall" to be a great actor.

And so don't get up out of bed this winter season. You may have to be a retarded farmer to enjoy Bruges, but anyone who's anyone will be thoroughly entertained by In Bruges. I bet my santa hat on it.

Your Mind Will Not Accept This Movie.

REVOLVER (2005)

Image from beyondhollywood.com

What is it with me and British gangster films? Nonetheless, you can't talk about British gangsters and not mention Guy. Guy Ritchie delivers a tour de force with an intellectual gangster film that's definitely one of a kind. We have guns, sharp wit, and Jewish mysticism. Seriously. Only Guy Ritchie could pull this off. That said, if you are just dipping your toes into the glory that is Guy Ritchie, I would not recommend you start with this movie. Definitely start with his earlier stuff, Lock, Stock, And Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch seem to be the general consensus for "Guy Ritchie classics". On the other hand, if you're as much of a Guy Ritchie junkie as I am, this should definitely be on your to-see list. 

I know I'm going on a limb with this statement since Revolver is one of the least widely accepted Guy movies, but it's one of my favorites. And I will tell you why. The pseudo intellectual mumbojumbo. Yes, I understand, this is a big turn off for most folks. When they want an action movie, they want an action movie. When they want a documentary on cons, chess, and Judaism, they want a documentary on cons, chess, and Judaism. The thing is, I always want action. So to me, it's more like a great motherfucking movie, with the added bonus of blowing my mind. No one complained when Memento pulled the old amnesia schtick. What's wrong with a macho movie that requires a bit of thoughts to understand it?

There's a reason chess games are cliché. Because they're awesome.

Alright. So maybe I'm not giving you adequate warning. I will say this: as much as I did love a good bit of mind fuck, it took me about three views to actually understand the plot. Since there, I've seen it more than a couple times, and I still trip up on bits and pieces. Even during the commentary, there are parts when Guy Ritchie pauses then goes, "To fully understand this movie, you have to know stuff that I can't talk about on this commentary because it would take too long to explain." But when you get over the religious hump, this comes down to a story about ego and humanity. I like to think of this as the "real" version of all Guy Ritchie's other movies. He strips away the cartoon remorseless killers and makes them turn around and come face to face with their own greed. It's sort of the Requiem For A Dream of gangster films.

BUT. If you hang up your brain and give yourself over to the brilliance that is Revolver, I don't think you'll be disappointed. The characters in this movie are positively badass. Jake Green, played by one of Ritchie's favorites Jason Statham, is a recently released con man. And he's made it his mission to get a little pay back and sink his nemesis, the rich and famous Macha (the fanfuckingtastic Ray Liotta), deep in debt. However, his plans get thwarted thanks to a rare blood disease and a couple of hard hitting loan sharks (Andre Benjamin--who'da thought he could act?--and Vincent Pastore).

Do not mess with a geek with a gun.

Jason Statham for one plays a refreshing character for him. Sure, he's a cold sonofabitch, but he's not that pure testosterone meathead of a man. Instead, he plays a character with a soul, a character who has to go through some extremely strenuous self evaluation. It's the best acting I've seen from Statham yet, I was legitimately impressed. Ray Liotta is also...well. He's Ray Liotta. He's extraordinarily badass. I've yet to see him in a role where he didn't blow me away. And this is no exception. Until I saw Goodfellas, I thought this was his best role. Now I realize it's his second best. But that's still saying a lot. His performance is chilling. But then again, there's nothing scarier than watching a top dog mobster crumble under his own towering ego. The best I saved for last. Jason Statham, awesome, Ray Liotta, awesome...but the one who really sold this movie for me was Mark Strong. Strong plays Sorter, a one of a kind OCD nerdy hit man. There...is very little I can say about Sorter. Except for the fact that he wears pants just short enough to show his socks, and yet he can still drill a hole in a wall, stick a gun with it, and kill anyone on the other end with a single shot. He's a BAMF. End of story. 

One last note on this movie. DO NOT watch the American version. The American version of most things are shit, but for this movie in particularly. I picked it up just to have the commentary and the movie itself literally makes no sense. They cut out major plot twists, save characters who have EPIC deaths, and lose the entire ending. Yeah. It's awful. If you have suffered the American version, I'm sorry. You can probably download the British version floating around somewhere online or just do the Amazon thing.

And so, all you Guy Ritchie fanatics, go out and check this one out. And shine on, you crazy diamonds.

"Fucking Females Is For Poofs."

LAYER CAKE (2004)

In the style of Guy Ritchie's earlier films (Lock, Stock, And Two Smoking Barrels), Layer Cake gives us our hero, Your Neighborhood Friendly Drug Dealer. Also known as XXX [character's name modified for the purposes of fulfilling movie watching]. I know what you're thinking. Goodfellas, Scarface, Pineapple Express. That dude Brad Pitt played in True Romance. No, no, no. XXX, portrayed by one of my favorites, Daniel Craig, is not like that at all. He's a down to earth modern day Odysseus with a suit and a stubborn attitude. Everything must be clean, clean, clean. He runs his business, nevermind that he'd dealing drugs. Business is business. He keeps his nose out of the dirt and lets everyone else do the heavy lifting political banter. In fact, he's even taking the high road and getting out while the gettin' is good. Yes indeed, life seems good for our friend XXX. Except for one problem. He's too good at his job to get out and now that he's trying to scram, he's making friends with all the wrong people. And he stumbles his way through the thick of it, losing ground fast into the sink hole of drugs, money, and guns while still trying to keep his face clean and his tie straight. 

Image from www.smh.com.au

I first saw this movie when rumors of Daniel Craig were just starting to filter in from that thing we call the internet. And I thought, Yeah, okay. I can see it. I like to think of this movie as the reason anyone might've thought he would make a good Bond. Because, let's face it. He's not your poster boy for smokin' hot (though he can give this lesbian a woody any day of the week). He's not particularly witty. And you have to pull a couple of teeth to get a good smile out of his permanently frowned mouth. But if Layer Cake does anything, it makes a 007 out of him. Only a 007 that does just about everything wrong, is hardly suave, and is extremely anal retentive yet somehow undeniably charming, loveable, and--wait for it--badass. 

Other worthy mentions in this movie go to his two cronies, Morty and Gene. Morty, played by George Harris (most commonly known these days as Kingsley Shacklebolt, AKA, Could He Be Anymore Stereotypically African?), is XXX's harder-than-stone partner in crime who's rejoined the gang after doing ten years jail time. He keeps his mouth shut and his blood temperature level for the most part, but when he explodes...you sure as hell better hope he's not going to go off on you. The fight scene (or should I say the beat-to-shit scene since the opposing party didn't have a chance to put up much of a fight) between him and the man who put him away is epic. The Brits do love their tea.

The second honorable mention goes to Gene, played by Colm Meaney, one of those actors who's been in...just about everything, but you still love him for it. Gene knows his guns like his cock and he's probably one of the more bona fide gangster types in the movie. And for a gangster movie, this one pokes a lot of fun at gangsters. On one hand, we have The Duke (Jamie Foreman), who's one of the most inept wanna be gangsters on the screen. Then we have Crazy Larry, who I wish they'd done a prequel of just so I could see Jason Flemyng's ridiculous hair for another two hours. Last but not least, a shout out to my boy Tom Hardy who went really quite fey, and XXX's love interest Tammy, who was played by Sienna Miller's ass and legs. 

AssAndLegs deserves an Oscar. 

All in all, I really do love this movie. It's entertaining, it's bloody with a sense of humor, it takes occasional risks with the style, and it has some top notch actors. Not to mention, it deals with all of the stuff that all the other gangster movies forgot to mention. Like the fact that most self-proclaimed gangsters are complete fuck ups, that killing a man actually does do some pretty shit things to your soul, and that the underdog does not always win.

Because I'm a bitcher, I will bitch about a thing or two, though. Number one, I've seen this movie multiple times and I'm still not crystal clear on what exactly happened in the plot. But I blame that on book to movie adaptations. And this is just me being a stupid American, but I definitely missed about a couple good sentences here and there due to the thick accents. I had to watch it with subtitles with my parents. But a complex plot and nonsensical talk is a trivial complaint when it comes to a movie as fun as this one is. Oo th'fock needs it anyways, eh?

Oh, and Daniel Craig's character? His name? Well, to figure that out, you'll have to see the--

You've Just Fucked With The Wrong Mexican.

MACHETE (2010)

Image from http://screenrant.com/

The first time I saw the trailer for Machete sliced in between the films Planet Terror and Death Proof as part of Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's Grindhouse, I could already feel the rush of pure testosterone energy running through my veins. The wildly exaggerated explosions, the gritty hero, and the final image of him pressed up between two woman--it was a cinematic masterpiece in it's own right. And so when they announced that they had plans to turn the trailer into a feature length movie, like everyone else, I was thrilled. But then came the problem that every movie inevitable faces: would it be possible to unravel a couple minutes of contained machismo into an equally badass feature length film?

The film starts off promising. The grimy feel of a grindhouse flick balanced out the beginning sequence perfectly: the characters took their quests, and themselves, seriously, even though they were locked into a hyper-realistic world. The comedy was subtle--reflected in the too-perfect delivery of their lines and the unstoppable kickassitry that dug its claws into the character of Machete (played by the forever underrated Danny Trejo).

As it progressed, however, the comedy became more obvious, less subtle. Machete at times felt like an anachronism: the dirty 70s hero surrounded by modern equipment and a modern brand of humor. To his credit, Rodriguez occasionally acknowledged the discrepancy, such as a scene in which Machete is chastised for neglecting to use his cellphone and claims: "Machete don't text". Younger characters, such as the two "Mexican" punks from Luz's (Michelle Rodriguez) crew who look a little whishy-washy standing next to the hulk of Machete, also worked to point out this gap and add a color of humor to it.

Movie poster from Flickr

However, it's hard to chastise a movie which constantly pleads for it's audience to sit back, relax, and enjoy the fucking ride. Rodriguez's black humor knocks a couple viewers' jaws open when he finds more than interesting ways to turn kitchen appliances, lawn machines, and human body parts into weapons. The excessive gore goes hand in hand with the excessive sex, which incites a chord of 70s-style porn music every time Machete gets it on and yet somehow only seems to get funnier as the movie progresses.

The best part of the movie, hands down, was the performances of the actors. Michelle Rodriguez sold with her take-no-prisoners attitude, and the intimate close ups of her killer body were definitely one of the more lingering memories of the movie. My only problem with her character was there was not enough of her, especially towards the end in which her badassitry could've been pushed even further and really given a chance to shine. Any excuse for Michelle Rodriguez to continue to strut around half naked with an eye patch and a machine gun. Jeff Fahey, yet another Lost actor aboard the movie, was everything a Rodriguez-style bad guy needed to be--down to the exaggerated deep growl of his voice. He embodied the character of a sadistic, backstabbing, yet often cowardly villain, igniting the scene during his moment in the church with Cheech Marin. Cheech Marin--yet another underrated actor--played Machete's brother and the slightly wayward priest. It was easy to fall in love with his character as his comedic timing sold every line. Robert De Niro played an excellent senator who deep down really just wanted to be a cowboy (gee, I wonder who he was playing off of!). Someone to look out for: Shea Whigham ran an excellent bad guy as Jeff Fahey's right hand man, with a badassitry that almost was on par with Pike from the A Team. Like Michelle Rodriguez, my only problem with his character was that he didn't seem to stick around long enough.

Steven Seagal was, in the end, Steven Seagal, which is not a bad thing to be. Lindsay Lohan, however, was also simply Lindsay Lohan, and while her chemistry worked well with Jeff Fahey, it was still slightly jarring to see the teen pop actress trying to hold her own (credit where credit's due--Lindsay Lohan could have been much worse, she certainly was no Hannah Montana). Last and probably least, Jesssica Alba played a lukewarm performance--while her character was fun as a materialistic, thickskulled, hardheaded woman in the beginning, her transformation during the movie felt somewhat implausible.

Lastly, while I've said the movie should not, under any circumstances, be taken seriously, I think that it had a great message about the "problem" of immigration that America faces today. Point being: don't fuck with the Mexicans. They are humans too, they deserve to be in this country just as much (if not more than) anyone else, and they have Machete on their side. End of lesson.

Things to remember while going to see this movie: it doesn't want you to take it seriously. It doesn't need your political correctness. All it wants is for you to have a dirty, gory, grimy fun time. Enjoy.