Best/Worst List of 2018

2018 is over. Another year, another blah blah blah–let’s just cut right to the chase…

BEST MOVIES OF THE YEAR

Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse (Sony)
Deadpool 2 (Fox)
Avengers: Infinity War (Marvel/Disney)
Ballad of Buster Scruggs (Netflix)
Sorry To Bother You (Annapurna Pictures)
Overlord (Bad Robot/Paramount)
BlacKKKlansman (Focus/Universal)
The Death of Stalin (IFC)

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WORST MOVIES OF THE YEAR

Ralph Breaks The Internet (Disney)
Jurassic Park: Fallen Kingdom(Universal)
The Happytime Murders (STX/Henson)
Fantastic Beasts: Crimes of Grindelwald (Warner Bros.)
The 15:17 to Paris (Warner Bros.)
Bohemian Rhapsody (Fox)

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MOVIES THAT WERE GOOD (BUT NOT GREAT)

Halloween (Universal/Blumhouse)
Black Panther (Marvel/Disney)
Crazy Rich Asians (Warner Bros.)
Blockers (Universal)
Isle of Dogs (Fox Searchlight)
Christopher Robin (Disney)
Peter Rabbit (Sony)
Gringo (Amazon)

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MOVIES THAT WERE JUST–EH, WHATEVER

Solo: A Star Wars Story (Disney/Lucasfilm)
Incredibles 2 (Disney/Pixar)
Ant Man and The Wasp (Disney/Marvel)
Ready Player One (Warner Bros/Amblin)
Super Troopers 2 (Fox Searchlight)
Uncle Drew (Summit)
Fahrenheit 11/9 (Briarcliff/State Run)

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BEST DOCUMENTARY
Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (Focus/Universal)

WORST DOCUMENTARY
Take Your Pills (Netflix)

 

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BEST TV SHOWS OF THE YEAR

“Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” — Season Two (Amazon)
“Barry” (HBO)
“Succession” (HBO)
“Atlanta” — Robbin’ Season (FX)
“GLOW” — Season Two (Netflix)
“The Deuce” — Season Two (HBO)
“Better Call Saul” — Season Four (AMC)
“Big Mouth” — Season Two (Netflix)

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WORST TV SHOWS OF THE YEAR

“Roseanne”/“The Conners” (ABC)
“Westworld” — Season Two (HBO)
“LA to Vegas” (Fox)
“Magnum P.I.” (CBS)
“Murphy Brown” (CBS)
“Everything Sucks!” (Netflix)

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BEST MINISERIES
“American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace” (FX)
“Feud: Bette and Joan” (FX)

WORST MINISERIES
“The Haunting of Hill House” (Netflix)
“Trust” (FX)
“Maniac” (Netflix)

A Brief Recap of the 2018 Oscar Nominees for Best Picture

Sunday night March 4th is the 90th Academy Awards, and Jesus Christ 2017 was a shitty year for Hollywood. Oh…I wasn’t even talking abou–uh, [*clears throat*] th–the other thing that happen. I was actually referring to the movies released that contended for the golden statue, although “contended” seems too strong a word to use to describe them…it was more like “meh, I guess these are the best we got.” I’ve previously stated on other platform my opinions of the Oscars in the past, which I firmly believe the Academy Awards are a fucking joke. It’s gotten so bad that this year especially felt like they were scraping the very bottom of the mediocrity barrel just to ensure they meet their quota of nominating at least nine films for Best Picture.

But why does it have to be nine? I remember back when only five films were nominated for the grand prize and often all five films were stellar pieces of cinema. But having nine films nominated only seems superfluous since the average movie goer will probably only see 3 or 4 of the nominated films with only 2 of those films they actually saw in theaters while the rest they either watched when it became available for Amazon Prime or by streaming a pirated copy after jailbreaking their Firestick. But I digress…

Let’s just jump right in:

Call Me By Your Name

 

First off, BOOM, Armie dropped the Hammer down hard in the Woods! Secondly, can we take a moment to appreciate how their names perfectly lined up with my Professional Wrestling-esque color commentary?

What I’m sure what the filmmakers had hope to be the Brokeback Mountain of 2018, the story of a summertime romance between an older man and a 17-year old boy had all the right moves…until it was released less than a month after news of Kevin Spacey being a pedo predator with Mark from “RENT”. Hopefully the film will win the award for Best Visual Effects since the filmmakers had to digitally shrink Armie Hammer’s HUGE BALLS from showing through his short shorts (Seriously, this actually happened.)

Darkest Hour

Alright, can you spot which Churchill is either the real one or played by Gary Oldman?

“HEY, you know what I want to see?? MORE FILMS about Winston Churchill!”
— Said no one ever.

Seriously, what is the British film industry and their obsession with Churchill? He’s been depicted more times on film than Batman and Superman combined. Yes, he united Britain during WWII and was a bombastic leader, but outside of that he was kind of a shitty person. But given he’s been portrayed in the past by Richard Burton, Albert Finney, Brendan Gleeson, and Bob Hoskins, it’s like in order to be an established British actor, you must portray Churchill. Now I love Gary Oldman; always have, always will. Even his most ridiculously overacting performances have been the best part in his films (e.g. The Fifth Element). But not since Daniel Day-Lewis in Lincoln has a masturbatory performance been so shamelessly catered to the Oscars. Oldman is an over-the-top caricature that comes across like an impersonation of an impersonation of the man.  This is not his best performance…shit, he’s not even the best Churchill THIS YEAR (John Lithgow in The Crown). But like Leo DiCaprio with The Revenant, if he wins Best Actor it’s really to honor his career.  

Dunkirk

Because that’s Harry Styles on the left, I couldn’t get this fucking song out of the head throughout this entire scene. You’re welcome.

Set literally at the same time as previous film that featured a fat-suit wearing Sirius Black, Dunkirk is undeniably the superior film and, quite honestly, the only nominated film I thoroughly enjoyed. That being said, it’s a Christopher Nolan film which means two things:
A) the cinematography is unbelievably STUNNING, and
B) it is remarkably sterile when it comes to human emotions.
But Nolan’s last attempt at conveying emotions was in Interstellar, which resulted in the human characters acting more alien than the aliens in the film. So in this case, his weakness is his strength as the film avoids any shred of sentimentality that often devalues the seriousness of a heroic war film. The biggest thing that makes the movie stand out is Nolan’s unconventional use of time — scenes with the young soldiers on the beach take place over a week, the boat scenes with Mark Rylance and Cillian Murphy takes place over a day, and the air combat scenes with Tom Hardy takes place over an hour — and somehow he manages to seamlessly intertwine all three storylines. Unfortunately, it’s also confusing as fuck at times and often tedious at moments having to watch the same scene played over and over again from a different perspective. All in all, I found it very fulfilling, even with the history buff inside me reminding me how it’s not the most accurate depiction of the Dunkirk evacuations (that honor still goes to the 2007 film Atonement which features a five-minute single take tracking shot that is strikingly IMMACULATE).

 

Wait…did “Interstellar” even have aliens in it? I forgot…

Get Out

 

Instead of a still frame from Get Out, here’s a screenshot of director Jordan Peele playing the man behind the batshit insanity that was Gremlins 2: The New Batch. PLOT TWIST!!

Behold the Oscar underdog which has made several Academy members so annoyed at the film’s satirical take on white liberalism, that several [unverified] sources have reported on members skipping the film entirely. When I first saw the film, I absolutely loved it and felt it rightly deserved all the praise it got. I’m also a huge fan of Jordan Peele, so of course I was rooting for him to win all the major accolades for his directorial debut. Buuuuuut…ok, here’s the thing about Get Out, and I’m sure I’m going to get some heat for this — it doesn’t hold up. And by that, I mean it’s a film that can only be watched ONCE and never again. It falls victim to what I call “Shyamalan Syndrome“: in which a film has a major plot twist near the end that leaves audiences thrilled while simultaneously ruining any repeat value; with viewers now aware of the plot twist, any tension leading up to the climax is neutered as the viewers spend more time searching for easter eggs or anything they may have missed the first time, turning the movie into a game of Where’s Waldo. And sadly what is often the case when viewers looker closer, they uncover flaws which lead to the film being retroactively downgraded from its former critical glory. But even knowing Bruce Willis was dead the whole time during The Sixth Sense (fuck you, this stopped being a spoiler alert 15 years ago), there’s still enough substance to merit a repeat viewing of the film as Ghost McClane is really just a subplot to the main story. Unfortunately, Get Out lacks any definitive subplots aside from Lil Rel Howery’s TSA detective work which serves as literal comic relief from the suspense. What’s worse, knowing the film’s plot twist drains all semblance of tension out of the repeat viewing as you right away notice how the antagonists do very little in hiding their nefarious motivations and make almost zero effort in gaslighting Daniel Kaluuya’s Chris. I’m going to stop here because I don’t want this to turn into a full reappraisal of the entire film, especially after I already wrote my review for it (click here to read it!). I still hope Peele wins Best Director.  

Lady Bird

 

Alright, Be Honest: when you first heard the title, which of these two did you think of first?

Alright, full disclosure — didn’t see it. Didn’t appeal me to…and that’s saying something, because NONE of these films were very appealing to me. All I’ve taken away is that it’s gotten stellar reviews and rather perplexing Rotten Tomatoes score of 99%. But as you’ll find out further down this page, Rotten Tomatoes scores don’t mean jack shit.

 

 

Phantom Thread

 

There was a time when I had the utmost respect for Daniel Day-Lewis and his approach to the craft of method acting. Having studied acting in theater during high school, guys like Lewis were gods walking amongst men. Method acting to me seemed so dangerous and sexy; the idea of completely immersing yourself in a role so deep, you BECOME the character. So seeing Lewis yield his method sword in such films as Gangs of New York and There Will Be Blood, he became a favorite of mine. Then again, I was also listening to the All-American Rejects and My Chemical Romance at the time so my artistic tastes weren’t, shall we say, “refined” quite yet. Then during college, I discovered that method acting is actually vehemently despised in the acting community as it completely negates the very purpose of acting itself. And then several years later, I saw the film Lincoln with Lewis in the eponymous role as the 16th U.S. President which the media talked about how he stayed in character throughout filming and only answered to ‘Mr. President’…and yet it was a performance so goddamn mediocre, so banal, just full of so much scene chewing while slowly jerking itself off and thinking about that Oscar statue. That’s when I knew I was done with DDL, who I finally opened my eyes wide enough to see how much of a total hack he is. So this film is supposedly this final film before he retires from acting? Good riddance. You may have noticed that I haven’t talked about the film Phantom Thread at all in this section. It doesn’t matter — it won’t win. Fuck Daniel Day-Lewis and fuck method acting.           

The Post

 

WHOOPS! I’ve inserted a screenshot of what The Post wishes it was.

Speaking of Lincoln, what’s going on with Steven Spielberg lately? And by lately, I mean the past 15 years. Growing up, I saw the man as one of my idols and could name every movie he’s ever director/produced in chronological order like Rain Man meets IMDb. Believe it or not, there was a time not too long ago that Spielberg winning Oscars was a laughable idea since he was known for popcorn flicks like Jaws, Raiders, and ET, but after Schindler’s List he pretty much became the Emperor of Hollywood.  But like Alexander the Great, Steven saw the breadth of his domain and wept for there were no more worlds to conquer…or rather he directed a film where a beloved archaeologist survived an atomic bomb explosion by locking himself in a 1950’s refrigerator because ten years later and fan boys are still throwing a bitch-fit over their childhood being vandalized . For the past two decades, Spielberg has made films so unbelievably  forgettable, scientists should study their amnesiac effects to develop new medical technology that would erase traumatic memories of patients. So let’s cut right to it; did I enjoy The Post? Ehh, I guess. I enjoyed it as much as I’d enjoy going to the Post Office to pick up a package that I missed the delivery for — it’s not the worst thing in the world, but it definitely isn’t what I’d prefer to do on a Saturday afternoon. You have Spielberg, Tom Hanks, and Meryl Streep all working together on a historical drama dealing with the media attempting to expose the dark underbelly of Washington D.C., in what is in NO WAY topical to what is currently happening in the American government AT ALL. Nope! Absolutely NOT! Quite honestly, I enjoyed it more than Bridge of Spies which I’m pretty sure even Spielberg forgot he made that. But it’s your standard paint-by-numbers Oscar bait flick that Steven had gotten so used to making now. Streep is her usual overrated self and is of course nominated because at this point she’s become the Academy’s tie-breaker if they can’t decide between two actresses more deserving of the statue. And Hanks…well, I really don’t know what to say other than the last four films he appeared in were all box office disasters which makes me think he’s just randomly picking movies to do to fill the time between when Disney calls him back for the next Toy Story sequel. It’s…fine. The movie is fine. Just fine.

The Shape of Water

 

If you don’t recognize this screenshot, I’m sorry your childhood sucked.

The fish fucking movie. What more can I really say about it? Yeah, I know it’s insulting to call it that when it’s actually a very moving film that touches themes of love, trust, disabilities, tolerance, paranoia, etc.. The acting is great, the practical effects for the Amphibian Man are very impressive, and the cinematography is dream-like but all this was to be expected from Guillermo del Toro. The film in many ways can be seen as a spiritual successor to del Toro’s last awards darling, “Pan’s Labyrinth”–you remember that movie, right? The little girl, the freaky demon with eyes on his hands, and…uhhh, Francoist soldiers? Geez, it’s pretty hard to remember what happened in that movie and that’s not because it was entirely in Spanish. That’s kind of the impression I got with “The Shape of Water”; while it certainly one of the better films nominated this year, and definitely has a better chance at winning Best Picture, it will probably also be forgotten by the time next year’s awards will arrive. So be sure to order your Amphibian Man dildo now during this small window of opportunity is opened for anyone with a fetish for humanoid swamp creatures (no judgement here).

 

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Hey, remember this piece of shit movie? Praised by critics and went on to win the Oscar for Best Picture at the 2006 Academy Awards, where it beat out Brokeback Mountain, Capote and Good Night and Good Luck. If Three Billboards goes on to win the Best Picture award this year, this film will no longer be the biggest mistake the Academy has made…

Last and definitely the least, we come to this fucking movie. Anyone who’s ever spoken praise about this film has either never seen it, or suffered brain damage by falling off their roof headfirst while trying to get high inhaling tar fumes during August. Based on the film’s Rotten Tomatoes score being a fucking 92%, I have never been more certain that several film critics have been paid off by the studio to give positive reviews. No. Fuck this movie. Fuck it so much, I’m not even going to finish this parag–

Well that about wraps it up, I hope you enjoy this recap! Except by the time this gets posted, most of you either won’t care or the awards will already be handed out. Soooo…this has been a colossal waste of my time. Thanks for stopping by! 

A Man Called Ben — A Star Wars Story

Hey, you know what’s weird?

Why is Kylo Ren’s real name “Ben Solo”? Seems arbitrary that the first (and as far as we know, only) born child of Han Solo and Leia Organa is named after a character neither one of them had extensive interaction with. Furthermore, no one else called the old man “Ben” aside from Luke Skywalker, despite every other source has referred to the Jedi Knight as “Obi Wan.” So how did the young Solo boy come by his name?

Well, it turns out Lucasfilm had planned to do a stand-alone film that was to be released in between Episodes VIII and IX that addressed this long mystery. Unfortunately, this past year alone saw Lucasfilm putting out more self-inflicted fires than a pyromaniac fire department captain and thus the project was scrapped entirely. Fortunately, I have obtained a rough draft copy of the screenplay for the proposed stand-alone adventure for everyone to read. So let’s begin:   

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

OPENING

INT. HOSPITAL MATERNITY WARD — CORUSCANT — DAY

HAN SOLO sits next to his wife, LEIA ORGANA-SOLO, as she holds their newborn baby in her arms, cooing and kissing his forehead.

HAN
He’s got your eyes.

LEIA
He’s got your hair.

HAN
Well, Princess…did you ever think you’d wind up starting a family with a scoundrel like me?

LEIA
Considering how many times you aggressively harassed me onboard the Falcon? Or how you wouldn’t even say ‘I love you’ back when you were about to die…

HAN
OH, come on! You’re still hung up on that?!

LEIA
Admit it, you just wanted to get into my Sarlaac at the time and you’d rather die from carbon freezing than embarrass yourself in front of Boba Fett…

HAN
‘I LOVE YOU,’ OK?! ‘I LOVE YOU,’‘I LOVE YOU,’ ‘I LOVE YOU!’ How long are you gonna hold that over my head?!

LEIA
Until you die by getting stabbed by loved one and fall down an endless chasm.

HAN
…that’s oddly specific–

ENTER LUKE SKYWALKER with a giant bouquet of flowers and bag.

LUKE
CONGRATULATIONS! Where’s my beautiful sister?!

HAN
[muttering]
Speaking of mistakes from the past held over your head…

LEIA punches HAN hard in his side, causing him to keel over.

LEIA
Flowers? Oh, Luke, you shouldn’t have!

LUKE
Freshly cut from the beautiful fields on Naboo for my beautiful sister!

HAN
Freshly cut? Isn’t Naboo, like, ten-thousand light years away?

LUKE
Well, the flower shop owner was Gungan, so it’s as good as the real thing.

HAN
Uh-huh…still doesn’t answer for the fields part–

LEIA
Shut up, Han.

HAN
[grumbles]

LUKE
I also got you a diaper bag so you can carry all of the bottles of blue milk the young warrior can drink! Let me see my nephew…

LUKE comes over and sees his newborn newphew.

LUKE [cont’d]
Amazing, isn’t it? Barely a day old and I can sense the Force is strong in him…

HAN
Oh please, you say that to servers to avoiding tipping them.

LUKE
No, I’m serious! I can sense his energy. He’ll definitely grow up to be a wise, all-powerful Jedi. I can teach him!

HAN and LEIA look at each other with concern, struggling to respond.

LUKE (cont’d)
He’ll be my star pupil. OH, did I tell you? I looking into some property in the Outer Rim so I can build a Jedi Academy! The place is a bit of a fixer-upper since it was previously used as a Bantha stable. The smell alone…*whew*, let me tell you, no wonder the Sand People are always so angry! They may ride single file to hide their numbers, but seems like having to ride behind a bunch of Banthas isn’t worth th–

LEIA
–Luke, listen. Han and I wanted to let you know that…well, we intend on raising our family in a secular household.

LUKE
…I don’t follow.

LEIA
You see, neither one of us is particularly religious in any way. So I see no point in trying to force…uh, the Force onto the kid.

LUKE
Leia…you can’t be serious?

LEIA
We just don’t know if that’s the right environment to raise a child. Plus, you mentioned the Bantha smells…

LUKE
Well it doesn’t have to be right away! He can wait until he’s the right age to become a Padawan, just like how the Jedi Council did it during the Old Republic.

LEIA
What age is that?

LUKE
Two.

HAN
And you wonder why it was so easy for people to turn against the Jedi after the Clone Wars. You guys had government subsidized child slaves.

LUKE
How about we put a pin in his training for now and we come back to it when you feel the time is right?

LEIA
Sure, Luke.

LUKE
So what’s the scruffy little Nerf Herders name?

HAN
Uh, wow, you mind not dropping the NH-words while we’re in public, kid? You’re not back on Tatooine with your moisture farming yokel friends.

LEIA
We haven’t decided on a name just yet. We’re kind of throwing around ideas, like…Jacen?

HAN
Nah, I like Janash. Or Dash. Or Kyle.

LEIA
We’re not naming him after your smuggling buddies. What about Bail?

HAN
Your father’s name? “Bail Solo.” Nah, doesn’t sound right.

LEIA
Gee, thanks, hun. Here I thought watching Alderaan get blown to bits was painful enough, I can’t name my son after the man who raised me because it “doesn’t sound right.”

HAN
Chewie thinks Lumpy is a good name.

LEIA
I’m not naming our child after a texture. I also refuse to take parental advice from a Wookiee who already has a son named Lumpy who he abandoned along with his wife back on Kashyyyk years ago and has yet to visit them.

HAN
Hey now! You know why Chewie can’t see them!

LEIA
Because Kashyyyk is still under Imperial control?

HAN
Exactly! Imagine the pa—wait…

LEIA
The fact he’s been using the same excuse for the last three years…which is how long ago we DEFEATED the Empire…God, Han. I know he’s your best friend, but jeez…

HAN
Eh. Better than having to spend all those credits on fuel shipping his hairy ass back and forth every Life Day.

LUKE
HEY! I got an idea for a name!

HAN
Let’s hear it, kiddo.

LUKE
I dunno why I didn’t think of this before, it’s so obvious! A glowing tribute as well.

LEIA
Go ahead! What do you got?

LUKE does a long, dramatic pause for effect.

LUKE
BEN.

SILENCE. Both HAN and LEIA have blank stares on their faces.

LUKE (cont’d)
Ben! He can be “Ben Solo!”

The parents look at each other, unimpressed.

LUKE (cont’d)
Doesn’t that sound perfect? BEN!

LEIA
Uh…I guess.

LUKE
Well it makes so much sense, doesn’t it?

HAN
You kinda have us at a loss here, farm boy. Why Ben?

LUKE
Oh, come on, you know! Ben! Like Ben Kenobi!

ANOTHER LONG SILENCE. LEIA and HAN remain stumped.

LUKE (cont’d)
You know, Ben! BEN KENOBI!

LEIA
[long beat]
Who?

LUKE
[insulted]
Who?! What do you mean who?! Ben Kenobi!

HAN
[exasperated]
Saying the damn name over and over doesn’t explain who he is!

LUKE
Ben Kenobi, the Jedi Master? Used to live out in the Dune Sea, kinda strangle old hermit. He hired YOU to take us to Alderaan, we got captured on the Death Star, he went an to disable the tractor beam, got sliced by our fath——stop me when any of this is sounding familiar!

HAN and LEIA continue to stare, nonplussed

LUKE (cont’d)
Leia, come on! “Help Me, Ben Kenobi. You’re My Only Hope.”

LEIA
Wait…are you talking about Obi-Wan Kenobi?

LUKE
Yes!! Ben Kenobi!

LEIA
Why are you calling him “Ben”??

LUKE
That’s his name!

LEIA
No it isn’t! His name is Obi-Wan. He served with my father in the Clone Wars.

LUKE
Uh, duh, I know he served with dad…

LEIA
No, my other father.
[looks at HAN]
The one whose name doesn’t sound right.

HAN
Grrrreaaaat, gonna be hearing that twenty more times this week…

LUKE
Han, you remember Ben Kenobi, right?

HAN
The old guy you were with? Uh, yeah, vaguely.

LUKE
If it wasn’t for him, we would’ve never escaped from the Death Star!

HAN
Hey look, pal, I can’t remember what species our doctor is, let alone remember the face of a passenger I flew over five years ago! I don’t remember his name as Ben, or Obi-Wan, or Wan Ben, or whatever…I just called him an old man.

LUKE
I just can’t believe neither one of you has any memory of him!

HAN
I knew him for all of two hours, maybe?

LEIA
And I never actually met him!

LUKE
But you literally said,“Help Me, Ben Kenobi. You’re My Only Hope.” I remember when we first met in your Imperial prison cell, I said “Ben Kenobi is here” and you went along.

LEIA
Ok, first off, no I didn’t. I said,“Help Me, OBI-WAN Kenobi. You’re My Only Hope.” I never said “Ben.” Secondly, I was told to contact him for help and then I got captured, tortured, and forced to watch my planet get annihilated. So when you said “Ben Kenobi is here,” I was half-traumatized while assuming you just said his name wrong.

HAN
You guys can seriously remember that far back?

LEIA
I don’t know where you got the name “Ben” from. Everyone I know who’s ever met him or fought alongside him, he’s always been Obi-Wan.

LUKE PAUSES, thinks.

LUKE
You know, it’s weird…I don’t know where I got “Ben” either. I just called him it and he always responded.

LEIA
I dunno, Luke…

LUKE
WELL, that doesn’t take away from the fact that he was great man! He saved my life once!

LEIA
Didn’t Vader kill him?

LUKE
Yeah, but he came back!

LEIA and HAN look at each other, concerned.

LUKE (cont’d)
It was on Hoth, after I got out of the Wampa cave. I was straggling through the frozen wasteland and collapsed from exhaustion…when suddenly, he appeared.

LEIA
…he appeared, on Hoth, in the middle of the wasteland?

LUKE
Yeah, except he was a spirit now. He learned how to reappear as a Jedi spirit. When all hope was lost, he saved me.

LEIA
What did he do?

LUKE
He said, “you must go to the Dagobah System and find Yoda.”

LEIA
[LONG BEAT]
…and?

LUKE
And then he disappeared.

LEIA
Not sure if that constitutes as saving your life.

HAN
This didn’t happen to be the same time I found you nearly dead and kept you alive but stuffing you inside the dead Tauntaun?

LUKE
I dunno. Next thing I knew, I woke up in a Baca chamber.

HAN
[muttering]
I nearly freeze to death saving your ass and some ghost with an identity crisis gets all the credit…

LUKE
Without Ben, I would’ve never become a Jedi.

LEIA
Wasn’t it Yoda who taught you to be a Jedi?

LUKE
Well…yeah, but…Ben taught me about the Force.

HAN
Kid, even *I* knew about the Force. It’s not as big as a secret as you think. This Ben character sounds like he was putting you through the ringer.

LUKE
NO! He was a wise man! He believed I would be the one to defeat Vader. I even left my training with Yoda early to confront him, because I sensed the two of you were in trouble.

HAN
Yeah, much good that did. I got stored in a carbonite container and you got your hand sliced off.

LEIA
Why did Obi-Wan…uh, I mean, Ben, think you were ready to kill our father?

LUKE hesitates.

LUKE
Wellll…he didn’t…exactly tell me…Vader was my father.

LEIA
WHAT?

LUKE
He first told me that Vader turned to the dark side and killed my father, as Jedi knight. Then I found out Vader was my father and he told me that in a way Vader *did* kill my father by turning to the darkside…

 

HAN
So he lied.

LUKE
Not necessarily, what he said was true…from a certain point of view.

HAN
Yeah, well, odd rhyming aside, seems like he left out a pivotal part of the story that probably would’ve saved you a right hand. You sure this guy had your best interests in mind?

LUKE
Of course he did! He did it to protect me! And without him, I would’ve never discovered I had a sister…

LEIA
…huh?

LUKE
It was Ben who first told me that you and I are siblings, Leia.

LEIA
When did he tell you this??

LUKE
[beat]
After we rescued Han from Jabba and I went back to Dagobah…

LEIA
[springs upward]

LUKE
It was to keep you safe!

LEIA
This man, this so-called “wise man”, not only mislead you into believing Vader wasn’t your father, but you had been in contact with him since his death and not once…not ONCE…did he bother to mention you’re my brother?!?

LUKE
I feel like he wanted to wait before telling me…

LEIA
Someone out there KNEW we were siblings, and could’ve told us before I ki——I kis———ki—

LEIA looks nauseous, then suddenly vomits all over the bed. Her INFANT SON wakes up, crying. HAN walks over and picks his son up, cradling him.

HAN
I wasn’t going to say it, sweetheart. I figured you had enough morning sickness for the both us.

LUKE
Leia, I’m so sorry…

LEIA
[wiping mouth]
Damnit, Luke! I tried to forget about that whole…thing. I was happy to discover I had a twin brother, a sibling I could rely on. All I wanted was to move forward and finally live in peace. No more Emperor, no more Empire, no more stormtroopers, no more bounty hunters, no more war.
[beat]
I’m sure to you, Ben Kenobi was a great man. But he also seemed to have taken advantage of you being Vader’s son. I’m sure he knew that Vader deep down still was Anakin Skywalker, so he used you to reignite that light…

LUKE
[hesitant]
Ehhhh…well, actually…Ben wanted me to kill Vader, not save him.

LEIA closes her eyes and groans.

HAN
Hey, that’s not a bad name…”Anakin”?

EVERYONE in the room falls silent.

LEIA
I mean…it is our father’s name.

HAN
And it sounds right!

LEIA looks annoyed at HAN as he wryly smiles.

LEIA
[to LUKE]
What do you think? “Anakin Solo”?

LUKE calmly nods his head, smiles, and exhales.

LUKE
I’m—I’m really sorry, I am still really dead set on Ben.

HAN
Ok, Force master, why don’t you leave so your dear sister can get some rest, got it?

LUKE begrudgingly begins to exit out of the hospital room.

LEIA
Luke…

LUKE
[turns around]
Yes?

LEIA
Don’t buy that Bantha stable. We can find another location for the academy.

LUKE
Yeah, but…the smell is a small price to pay for how cheap the pla–

LEIA
–I will gladly talk to the Bank of the New Republic to make sure you get enough credits for a better location.

LUKE
[smiles]
Thank you, sis.  

LEIA
May The Force Be With You.

LUKE
May The Force Be With You.

HAN
See ya, kid.

LUKE exits. HAN brings their SON over to LEIA on the bed.

LEIA
I hope we find a name for you soon, my precious starbeam.

HAN
In the meantime, let’s alternate between names and see what fits.
[to baby]
How does that sound, Lumpy?

LEIA playfully smacks HAN before the two share a tender kiss.

LEIA
You know…it’s not so bad.

HAN
What is?

LEIA
Ben.

HAN
Baby, your brother is delusional. All that isolated training has turned himself a raving lunatic.

LEIA
I wouldn’t name him after Kenobi. I just like the name.
[to baby]
You get a name, your mother and father no longer have to worry, and uncle Luke gets to think he named you.

HAN
Well he technically did if that’s what you want to settle with.

LEIA
What do you think? Ben Solo. Not too far off from your own name.

HAN thinks, then nods his head.

HAN
Alright…Ben it is.

PAUSE. The sounds of baby BEN cooing.

LEIA
Hey…when Ben grows up and he decides he wants to be like his uncle…how would that make you feel?

HAN
[*blows raspberry*]
I dunno. I don’t think he has nearly enough hair to be a Wookiee.

LEIA turns and glares at HAN, who snickers.

LEIA
Ok, get out.

HAN
Ben Solo.

LEIA
Better than most of the other names we picked.

HAN
The grandson of the man who would be Darth Vader…named after the man who tried to kill him…

LEIA
What are you, superstitious now?

HAN
Me? Psssh, no. Hokey religions and anci–

LEIA
–ent weaponry are no match for a blaster at your side. Yes, thank you for saying that for the millionth time this week.

HAN
You know he’s got just as much Solo blood in him as he does Skywalker.

LEIA
So?

HAN
So…if he wants to train with Luke, I can’t stop him…

LEIA
…but?

HAN
I just wouldn’t want him only driven by the Force, or whatever. We all know what happened to Anakin Skywalker…

LEIA
Come on, Solo. You think the kid’s gonna grow up, train under Luke, turn to the darkside, worship his grandfather’s legacy, then kill you as you try to convince him he’s good?

HAN
Again, oddly specific.

LEIA
Go get some rest, my love.

The two share a kiss before HAN leaves the hospital room. LEIA holds her baby boy, cooing at him.

LEIA [cont’d]
[to BEN]
You’ll always be my Ben Solo, right? My handsome baby boy?

LEIA reaches for a bag next to the bed and a bunch of SAND pours out of it, all on the bed. 

LEIA [cont’d]
Damnit, Luke! You bought a diaper bag from Mos Eisley, you cheap bastard? UGH…

BEN starts crying hysterically after his tiny baby feet touch the sandy sheets.

LEIA [cont’d]
I’m sorry, my little prince! I hate sand too…it’s coarse and it gets everywhere, right?
[rocks the baby]
Your uncle will make it up to you one day, I’m sure.

FADE TO: BLACK

THE END

  

 

 

 

         

BEST/WORST of 2017 (pt. 1)

Well, another year down the crapper. We saw Nazis march in the street of the USA and learned that three super charged hurricanes causing destruction in five states and Puerto Rico STILL wasn’t enough to convince some that climate change is real. We endured the first year of having a Twitter troll as President while watching all of our ally countries electing leaders who were not only intelligent but young and attractive. The year began with over 5 MILLION women worldwide marching to show defiance and ended with the voices of countless victims being heard, crying out for justice against those who long abused power to conceal the vile monsters they always were. Meanwhile in Alabama, you can apparently run for Senate while being a racist, xenophobic, homophobic pedophile and that STILL somehow isn’t enough to dissuade people from voting for you. 

Also, people are arguing over Star Wars. That somehow ranks pretty high on how fucked up 2017 was.

Well, let’s see how the rest of the year stacked up on my list:

(in no particular order)

FAVORITE TV SHOWS OF 2017:

‘Big Mouth’ (Netflix)— Holy shit, was this a pleasant surprise. With co-creator Nick Kroll starring in a cast that includes John Mulaney, Jessi Klein, Jason Mantzoukas, Maya Rudolph, Jenny Slate, Fred Armisen, AND Jordan Peele, there are so many things that could’ve gone wrong…instead, it’s one of the most BRILLIANT animated satirical comedy series since ‘South Park’.

‘The Deuce’ (HBO)— This show kinda slipped under the radar for a lot of viewers and watching it can be frustrating since there really isn’t a overall “plot,” which is kinda the point. It’s from the same people who created ‘The Wire’…you know, that one show everyone who’s ever seen it won’t shut up about how BRILLIANT it is? Well it’s essentially the same kind of storytelling set in the backdrop of the seedy sex trade of early-1970’s New York City…its Scorsese sans Scorsese.

‘Stranger Things 2’ (Netflix)— Full disclosure: I wasn’t a terribly big fan of the first season of this show…a bit overrated and I felt the pacing was uneven. But it’s sophomore season completely turned me around and I found myself loving every minute of this more refined 1980’s nostalgia trip featuring the boys of Hawkins, Indiana

‘Glow’ (Netflix)— Speaking of the 80’s, this show took ‘Stranger Things’’s nostalgia for the Reagan Era to a whole new level with a cast and storyline so funny, heartfelt, and inspiring, I found myself gleefully cheering by the end of episode 10, only to be followed with the agony of realizing I had finished the series and must wait for season two. Alison Brie, Betty Gilpin, and Marc Maron deserve NOTHING BUT PRAISE for this show.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: ‘Game of Thrones (Season 7)’, ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’, ‘Feud: Bette and Joan’, ‘The Good Place’, Ken Burns’ ‘The Vietnam War’ miniseries.

WORST TV SHOWS OF 2017:

‘Rick and Morty (Season 3)‘ (Adult Swim)— We waited nearly two years for season three to FINALLY premiere…and when it finally did, good God, was it a huge disappointment. Blame on the overhype or McDonald’s notoriously dropping the proverbial ball with the whole Mulan Szechuan sauce debacle (although it probably didn’t help that so many of the show’s fans out there are immature fucking losers who completely miss the point of Rick Sanchez) we but I feel creator Dan Harmon’s real-life divorce and further descent into alcoholism may have played a hand in the show’s underwhelming third outing. It just felt like there was something missing through all ten episodes and I have come to fear that the show may never regain the same footing it once had. To me, this is Harmon’s ‘Community’ all over again.

‘Friends from College’ (Netflix) — This show is the parallel opposite to ‘Big Mouth’ where despite being co-created by Nicholas Stroller (‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’, ‘Neighbors’) and featuring a solid cast of Keegan-Michael Key, Cobie Smulders, Fred Savage, and Billy Eichner, it’s a premise that should’ve worked but instead fails in every way. This dramedy about a group of middle aged Harvard alumni “friends” is banal, mean-spirited, and utterly pointless, with its characters so unlikable and self-absorbed that they make the gang from ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’ look like the Dunphys from ‘Modern Family.’ I’m all for irreverent comedy fearing sociopaths doing inadvertently misanthropic deeds, but this seemed to have left out the “comedy” part. I was baffled to hear this show got renewed for a second season, but that was back in August and since then no updates have been heard. One can only hope Netflix walks back on their decision and quietly snuffs this dreck…

‘Twin Peaks: The Return’ (Showtime) — I’m sorry…I just couldn’t. I LOVED the original David Lynch/Mark Frost series and I was ecstatic for its long awaited return, but the show went full Lynchian the moment the first episode began…and to paraphrase the line from ‘Tropic Thunder’, you never go FULL Lynchian. Maybe I’m just not as strong as some other fans, but watching Kyle MacLachlan act like a lobotomized Dale Cooper for the first eight-*goddamn*-episodes was a test in patience that I failed miserably before giving up the show entirely. Yes, I’m ashamed to admit I threw in the towel before making it past episode eight. Don’t bother telling me it eventually comes together…I was told the same thing would happen after the fifth episode. I found it irritating how the original show’s quirky humor seems missing from this outing, which is one of the many things that made the characters so endearing. Also, how do you do a Twin Peaks show where less than 20% of each episode actually takes place in Twin Peaks?  About the only positive thing the show achieved was it retroactively made ‘Fire Walk With Me’ a more coherent and enjoyable film.

‘American Horror Story: Cult’ (FX) — This wasn’t the worst AHS season and to be honest I didn’t hate it all that much…however, what initially started as a social commentary on middle America under the Trump presidency, about midway through turned into a sendup on how the Alt-Right and SJWs are more alike than they care to admit with fear-based fundamentalism. Heavy-handed, maybe…but like previous seasons, ‘Cult’ plays musical chairs with the characters and their moral compasses, so the audience has a  tough time in deciding who to root for. Evan Peters plays an Adderall popping sociopathic cult leader who initially is inspired by the fear caused by Donald Trump winning the election, only to later gain inspiration from the amphetamine-included hallucinations of Charles Manson. On the other hand, Sarah Paulson is the uber-feminist whose grocery list of phobias make her borderline insufferable to her wife Alison Pill and to the audience as well; the first episode she screams in agony at Trump winning, but we later find out she voted for Jill Stein…ok, NOW she’s insufferable. I liked where it was going with its characters being shades of gray…but then it chickened out by its climax that seem to say “Just Kidding, the other side is WAY Worse!” Godamnit…

DIS-HONORABLE MENTIONS: ‘Iron Fist’, ‘Inhumans’, ‘The Defenders’…basically everything Marvel did for TV this year (minus ‘The Punisher’)

 

FAVORITE MOVIES OF 2017

‘Get Out’ (Universal)— If there’s one lesson to learn watching Jordan Peele’s directorial debut, it’s that white people have no idea how TERRIFYING they are to black people and other people of color. Never has a movie been so good at subverting expectations that I’m afraid to rewatch it in fear that it won’t have the same impact as the first viewing. Its mix of psychological horror with darkly satirical social commentary make it the best black comedy horror since ‘An American Werewolf in London’. As I’ve said, I haven’t rewatched the film since it was in theaters and that’s partially because the version Amazon has on-demand features the “ALTERNATIVE ENDING“. I remember the film’s ending being surprisingly upbeat and was curious if that was itself an alternative ending; sure enough, the alternative ending matches the film’s grim tone which Peele had originally intended as an allegory for America’s current political climate. I’m all for bleak endings especially in horror films, but this may be the one time I genuinely don’t want a downbeat ending. I’ll eventually gather enough courage to check it out.

‘Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2’ (Marvel/Disney) — At this point the MCU films have to be graded on a curve since Marvel has yet to release a “bad” movie. In any case, ‘Vol. 2’ is on equal footing with ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’ in Marvel’s “sequels that are better than the original” league. The film somehow manages to supersede its predecessor by not only being funnier and more exciting, but also having more emotional depth with its surprisingly deep take on toxic masculinity, childhood abuse, sibling rivalry, and dysfunctional family dynamics. I felt all the feels. 

‘Blade Runner 2049’ (Warner Bros./Columbia) — I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; ‘Blade Runner’ didn’t need a sequel. But in 2017 it got one and it’s better than it has any right to be. In fact, calling it a “sequel” feels like a cheap understatement when what it should be called is a “companion film” to the original, akin to ‘The Godfather Part II’. It’s a wholly original work of art that avoids the pitfalls of Hollywood’s latest “soft reboot syndrome” while offering a solid continuation of the story arc from the 1982 previously underrated masterpiece. Ryan Gosling excels as the neo-noir hero and Harrison Ford gives what is probably his most emotionally believable performance in the span of his 40+ year acting career. If you missed it in the theaters (and most of you did judging from the box office numbers), don’t miss watching it now.

‘Logan’ (Fox)— This past year saw a plethora of films that deconstructed their own mythos and/or genre, with ‘Logan’ being the forerunner. The movie is a gritty dismantling of the comic book superhero film trope in the same way that Clint Eastwood’s 1992 film ‘Unforgiven’ was a demythifying critique on the American Western. With a tone and setting so bleak, dirty, nihilistic, and misanthropic, it’s easy to forget the film comes from the same series that, among other things, had costumed superhumans fighting atop the Statue of Liberty. Hugh Jackman gives an uncompromising performance so profound that despite playing the role for over two decades, this is the closest he has ever gotten to faithfully portraying the titular anti-hero from the comics. Along with Patrick Stewart giving his final turn as Charles Xavier that is devastatingly soul crushing, it’s a relief to see the two biggest stars of the series finally get their long overdue swan songs. But it was the final shot at the end that managed to do what 17 years of mediocre X-Men films never could accomplish — fill my eyes with tears.

‘It’ (Warner Bros.) — 2017 saw the dawn of a Stephen King Renaissance after having spent the last two decades adapting his books into cheap tv-movies, miniseries and straight-to-video/DVD releases. The year had not one but TWO big screen King adaptations — one of them being good and the other featured Matthew McConaughey’s worst performance since ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4’ (watch this 28-second clip. You’re Welcome.) The good one was an excellent translation of the 1986 novel that managed to faithfully capture King’s magic to film while fixing some of the more “problematic” elements from the novel. Having the film focus solely on the characters as kids instead of featuring scenes of them as adults is a major improvement, especially compared to the 1990 miniseries we all grew up on. Speaking of which, compared to Tim Curry’s creepy yet campy evil clown, Bill Skarsgård’s performance as Pennywise is unnervingly terrifying with a more nuanced depiction of the villain as an otherworldly malevolent alien; Skarsgård is Heath Ledger to Curry’s Jack Nicholson. Hopefully the filmmakers can repeat their skilled craftsmanship for the yet unmade part-two…and get it done before King slips back into irrelevancy.

‘Star Wars: The Last Jedi’ (Disney/Lucasfilm) — Never has film I’ve like made so exhausted in having to defend why I like it. Episode VIII has gone down as the most divisive Star Wars film to be released and has divided the fandom so drastically that you’d swear it was the 2016 presidential election all over again. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to repeat this: the movie was good. Damn good. Was it flawless? Not even close, but no great film is. Do I agree with every decision it made? Absolutely not…but I respect director Rian Johnson’s bold tenacity to stand by his choices when faced with the backlash. Do I think it’s the best Star Wars film? No…but I believe it is ONE of the best films in the series. Episode VIII practically rewrote the book on subverting audience expectations which is why so many angry fanboys are quick to wreak havoc because their theories were proven to be wrong. Ironically, it seems many of these dissidents have completely missed the film’s entire message on how romanticizing the past and deifying your heroes will always lead to disappointment. As I previously mentioned, 2017 was the year of films deconstructing their own mythology or their entire genre, with ‘The Last Jedi’ disassembling Star Wars’ perfunctory tropes regarding everything being connected and having a special purpose. It’s kind of amusing when you realize that the film with the most nihilistic view on existentialism that came out this year is NOT ‘Logan’ but a Star Wars film. Lastly, I don’t care if you thought the Leia force gliding through the cold vacuum of space was stupid…this is the last time we will see Carrie Fisher not only as Leia Organa, but in any film, PERIOD. It’s been over a year and I’m still heartbroken over losing her. So lighten the fuck up, nerf-herders. 

HONORABLE MENTIONS: ‘Wonder Woman’, ‘Thor: Ragnarok’, ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming’ 

WORST MOVIES OF 2017

‘Baby Driver’ (Sony) — To paraphrase a quote I once heard, “music can be used to accompany, compliment, accentuate, enrich, identify, and inspire a film…but never to dictate one.” Basically what it means is that a film can have a good soundtrack, but having a good soundtrack doesn’t automatically make it a “good” film. That’s the problem with ‘Baby Driver’ —  a film with about as much artistic vision as Pandora Radio. Nearly every film critic who reviewed it way too much on its “killer soundtrack” and completely overlooked that if you took away the music, you’d see how messy, dull, contrived, and uneven the actual movie was.  It tries to be a cross between a Michael Mann crime thriller and a Nicholas Sparks romance drama…which goes about as well as you’d expect. I usually love director Edgar Wright’s work but ‘Baby Driver’ severely lacks the charm of his trademark dry British wit. And the soundtrack? It’s fine…if you like listening to a Spotify playlist of 70’s music on shuffle, created by a 23-year old hipster barista in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

‘Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales’ (Disney) — Aside from the original 2003 film, every ‘Pirates’ film released has been the cinematic equivalent of a popcorn fart: rotten, loud, crude, infrequent, produced by excessive consumption, and released for packed movie theaters to endure. But while the last three movies were raging dumpster fires, at their core they were still somewhat fun in a dumb but harmless way. ‘Dead Men Tell No Tales’ however is neither dumb fun nor an enjoyable inferno to witness — it’s just sad. Seriously, it’s not immensely godawful as much as it’s downright depressing. Part of this comes from watching Johnny Depp slog through the entire movie like a mentally deranged homeless man on a diet of Thunderbird wine and Dunhill cigarettes. We also see the most respectable actor in the franchise, Geoffrey Rush, visibly checked out yet still giving five-times the effort than Depp does. Javier Bardem shows up as a villain so bafflingly forgettable, you won’t even notice or care how he’s a complete facsimile of the last two villains in the series. Why are you still doing this, Disney? You have both Marvel and Star Wars basically putting food on your table, yet somehow you’re not satisfied until you have three franchises making the donuts? So you’d rather continue using an accused wife beater with a public image that plummeted like an anvil since last year and are completely fine with him being shitfaced 18-hours a day before showing up eight hours late to set where he is fed his lines through an earpiece?You know what…to say anything more about this bloated whale carcass franchise gives it way more attention than it deserves.

‘The Mummy’ (Universal)— This isn’t so much a movie as it’s a step-by-step visual playbook for film studios on “How *NOT* To Do A Cinematic Universe”.  This year, Universal Studios redefined the old expression “putting the cart before the horse” with just two words: Dark Universe. The studio intended to beat Marvel at its own game by creating an expanded film universe around the iconic Universal Monsters with ‘The Mummy’ being the inaugural entry. The result is a nauseating hodgepodge of half-assed and half-baked ideas clumped together in what bears only a passing resemblance to an actual “movie”, with more effort being spent on the shameless world building of the Dark Universe than on the movie itself. And when the film isn’t being a two-hour teaser trailer for movies that haven’t even been cast yet, it swings back and forth frantically trying to decide whether it’s a horror film, an action film, a superhero film, or a sci-fi fantasy epic. Also at some point, Tom Cruise needs to come to grips that at age 55, he has stop using whatever Xenu-approved age reversing machine that’s making him look not a day older than 39. It’s unnaturally creepy for a man pushing 60 to look the way he does; he’s the first real-life human to enter the Uncanny Valley. Your wax figure at Madame Tussauds shouldn’t look older than you currently are. Everybody goes through a midlife crisis…but instead of buying a Porsche 911 and dating a 24-year old yoga instructor, Cruise had Russell Crowe in one scene refer to his character as “a young man” (despite Crowe being a year younger). That is the most hilariously awful line in the entire movie.

Also, to the surprise of ABSOLUTELY NO ONE, it’s been reported that Universal’s Dark Universe is pretty much deader than both Lon Chaney Sr. and Jr.. This make it the second time in a row Alex Kurtzman has completely fucked up developing a cinematic universe for a major Hollywood studio; you’d think at least one studio exec would’ve caught on. Wonder who he’ll con next…

 

Nothing instills confidence in your film than having the theatrical poster spoil the fucking ending.

‘Mother!’ (Paramount) — There was a brief window of time where I along with many others believed Jennifer Lawrence was a “good” actor after she won the Oscar for ‘Silver Linings Playbook’. That window quickly shut after seeing her next performance in ‘American Hustle’. But there’s no further proof necessary for the Academy to reconsider awarding her the gold statue than her performance in ‘Mother!’. To be fair, she’s not the worst thing about this film…that honor goes to Brooklyn douchebag-turned-auteur filmmaker, Darren Aronofsky. For some reason, ‘Mother!’ was marketed as a psychological horror when in reality it’s a surreal black comedy with Biblical allegories as subtle as an Abrams tank soaked in kerosene crashing through a meth lab. Lawrence represents Mother Nature, her husband Javier Bardem is God, Ed Harris is Adam, Michelle Pfeiffer is Eve–you get the picture. As the story progresses, more and more people show up to Lawrence’s house claiming to be “fans” of her husband’s work, two brothers fight, others start recklessly remodeling the house, stealing belongings, debating the husband’s work, and so on. A baby is born, then killed by the followers who proceed in eating its flesh — there, I just spoiled the film’s most shocking and oh-so disturbing scene. BUT DO YOU GET IT???? DO YOU GET IT??? Uh, yeah, I get it. What I don’t get is how this pretentious septic tank explosion comes from the same director behind ‘Black Swan’ and ‘Requiem for a Dream’. Sorry, J-Law…your Hollywood relevancy clock struck five more minutes to midnight.

 

‘Rough Night’ (Sony) — If there is one film I saw this year that made me lose my shit for the most trivial reasons, it’s ‘Rough Night’. I’ll get to that in a second…

There were two films released this year both featuring a cast women going on a trip and cutting loose with comedic results — ‘Girls Trip’ and ‘Rough Night’. The difference between them was ‘Girls Trip’ featured a cast of predominantly Black women and with the women of ‘Rough Night’ were nearly all White — and while many are afraid to address the elephant in the room, it’s true that ‘Girls Trip’ had a larger audience of Black women than White and vice versa with ‘Rough Night’. Race demographics aside, I’ve had the misfortune of watching both films and I can confirm that both of them are atrocious trainwrecks…but ‘Rough Night’ was WAY worse. I honestly wish Hollywood would stop using ‘Bridesmaids’ as the template for every irreverent comedy featuring an all female cast as the bridal party run amok trope was already pretty dated when they did it back in 2011. ‘Rough Night’ instead is more of a loose remake of the 1998 Peter Berg-directed black comedy, ‘Very Bad Things’, in which a bachelorette party in Miami goes off the rails when one of them accidentally kills the supposed male stripper. The girls endure never ending obstacles while attempting to hide the body which doesn’t matter because the film ends with the most infuriating deus ex machina I have ever seen in the history of storytelling. It doesn’t matter what the ex machina is as it appears offscreen and is shamelessly described via exposition after the plot flashing ahead in the timeline. There are many dismal things I could point out in this film (e.g. What point was there for Kate McKinnon to be Australian?) but none of them come close to match how maddening it was to sit through the entire goddamn movie only for its cop out ending to insult the intelligence of myself and everyone in the theater. 

GODDAMNIT, just writing about it makes me furious! Fuck this movie, fuck the time it took from me, fuck the time I spent writing its entry on this list, and fuck Deus ex Machinas. 

DIS-HONORABLE MENTIONS: ‘Beauty and the Beast’, ‘Alien: Covenant’, ‘Baywatch’, ‘CHiPs’

 

Well, that does it for now. I should have Part 2 — which lists the year’s best political comedy and Late Night hosts — hopefully finished no later than the first week of the New Year.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 

REVIEW: “Blade Runner 2049”

“Oooook, Mr. Ford, please lower the gun, you win…you can wear your pajamas for the filming.”

Let’s just get this out of the way right off the bat — ‘Blade Runner’ didn’t need a sequel. In fact, for the longest time I felt doing a sequel to Ridley Scott’s 1982 futuristic film noir was on par with doing a sequel to ‘Casablanca’ or ‘Citizen Kane’…not only is a sequel unnecessary and improbable, but downright preposterous if not blasphemous. The original was a pretty good film that was ignored in its day but over time transcended into a critical darling that inspired hundreds if not THOUSANDS of sci-fi related properties. But let’s be honest…the 1982 movie is a *good* film, not a “masterpiece” or even an “excellent” film. The pacing is slow, the plot is clunky, the characters have motivations that are confusing, and some of the acting is a bit melodramatic despite a stellar cast of actors. 

Don’t let me be misunderstood — I fucking love ‘Blade Runner’. Ever since I was introduced to it in my early-teens, it has a special place in my heart and for years has secured a spot in my top-20 favorite films of all time. But back when I was a young, tenacious film geek, I still knew it was light years away from being considered a masterpiece. The fact that there are literally seven different versions of the same film — including TWO director’s cuts — is proof that it is a work of art with its fair share of blemishes. Hey, even ‘The Mona Lisa’ has scratches from the ravages of time.

Initially it seems that a sequel to ‘Blade Runner’ would only be necessary to settle a 35-year old debate amongst fans (and the filmmakers themselves) over the film’s ambiguous ending — is Deckard human or a Replicant? Thus we have ‘Blade Runner 2049’ from French-Canadian director Denis Villeneuve (‘Sicario’, ‘Arrival’). Without outright spoiling the film, yes, it does answer this question — and then it moves on to more important things with a blasé attitude of, “Yep, that’s it. Anyways, as I was saying…” And it is here we’re Villeneuve manages to avoid the pitfalls of creating a follow-up whose sole purpose is catering only to fans of its predecessor with perfunctory fan service. You know, what EVERY SEQUEL to films from the 80’s/90’s has been doing since 2015? That’s not to say it won’t satiate the appetite of fans yearning for a hearty dose of nostalgia…it just does it right. Imagine ordering a dinner entree which you hadn’t eaten in decades but remembered how wonderful it taste — only to discover the meal taste even better than the first time.

 

((( ⇒ FAIR WARNING: the following contains some SPOILERS that I unfortunately have to reveal for a complete review. However, these spoilers considered minor and brief, and will in no way ruin your viewing. Proceed at the your own risk. ∅∅∅ )))

 

We are transported back to Los Angeles in the year 2049, which has continued its descent into a nightmarishly overpopulated dystopia while the rest of the American Southwest (perhaps the world entire) has become a post-apocalyptic wasteland, full of vast trash dumps and abandoned radioactive cities. Through a prologue we learn that in the thirty years since the last film, the infamous bio-engineered androids know as “Replicants” have been updated to make them non-dangerous and are no longer illegal on Earth; in fact, it is implied that many humans have since left the planet to live in Off-World colonies, leaving Replicants to become a recognized minority group faced with discrimination by the remaining humans (uh…topical? Ironic?). However older models Replicants are still considered dangerous and are hunted by the eponymous title detectives.

The story begins with one such blade runner named “K” (Ryan Gosling) as he tracks down and executes (or “retires”) one such rogue replicant. In a rather intriguing twist, it is revealed that “K” is actually a replicant himself — his real name is serial number KD9-3.7 — hated by the replicants he hunts down as well as his human colleagues.  While finishing his investigation, K discovers a body buried at the site which is identified as the skeletal remains of a female replicant, who just so happened to be pregnant, which is impossible. 

The LAPD’s Lt. Joshi (Robin Wright) orders K to investigate the anomaly by seeking answers from the Niander Wallace (Jared Leto) of the Wallace Corporation, the biotech company that is now the sole manufacturer of replicants. It is through his detective work that K slowly unravels the truth which just so happens to lead back to an old case involving the whereabouts of an ex-blade runner named Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), who vanished in 2019 with his replicant lover, Rachael (Sean Young). Wallace orders his cold and ruthless replicant assistant “Luv” (Sylvia Hoeks) to follow K on his search. Interwoven with the suspense is a subplot centered around K’s relationship with an artificial intelligence hologram named “Joi” (Ana de Armas) who serves not only as a romantic companion but often as a projection of his own subconscious thoughts regarding his own identity. 

To tell you any more than I already have is a huge disservice to everyone, from the filmmakers to the audience members. I’ve been trying to find the right words to describe this film yet they all feel so inadequate, so utterly insufficient. In fact, calling it a “sequel” probably isn’t the most appropriate term to use, as the very word itself has been cheapened by Hollywood. It not merely a sequel, nor a reboot or even a reimagining. It compliments the original film while daring to have its own identity, feeling both very familiar and uniquely different. It weaves its own story while simultaneously continuing its predecessor’s story with surgical precision, so you get a fair share of nostalgia without feeling like you were duped into watching the same film. You know what’s the best term I can think of for this? It’s a “companion piece” — as if the two movies were one film, split into part I and II. Ladies and gentlemen — THIS is how a film sequel should be.

The film boasts a cast of phenomenal actors, many of them unknown, who shine in nearly every scene they’re in. I don’t know WHY I constantly forget how incredibly versatile Ryan Gosling is as an actor, but here he is once again in a role where I found myself synchronized with the character’s emotions. The other breakout performances come from both Sylvia Hoeks and Ana de Armas, both playing artificial creatures who show more depth and emotion than many of their human counterparts; to quote the Tyrell motto from the 1982 film, they’re “more human than human.” While Robin Wright’s role is a brief appearance, not one scene with her is wasted serving as Gosling’s no-bullshit superior. 

Aaaaand of course, there’s Harrison Ford reprising his iconic role as Rick Deckard whose commitment to the character I was happy to see improved substantially, a far cry from the rigid indifference he gave the first time he wore the trench coat. Truthfully, I found myself more thoroughly satisfied with Ford’s return as an older Deckard than I did with his reprisal as Han Solo in ‘The Force Awakens’; despite both films being set 30 years after we last saw the character, Han appeared to have a bad case of arrested development by reverting back to the smuggling life, virtually undoing his entire character arc from the trilogy. Deckard on the other hand is only a faint glimmer of the hard-boiled, hard drinking, cocksure gumshoe we remember from 2019 Los Angeles; he’s now older, reclusive, unkempt, and slightly unhinged from isolation. In other words, it was refreshing the see the character had properly matured. 

The visual effects and cinematography by Roger Deakins are breathtaking beyond comparison, which is the least surprising aspect given Deakins’ previous work (‘No Country For Old Men’, ‘The Shawshank Redemption’). While composer Vangelis electronic score from the original film is near immaculate, Hans Zimmer takes over film scoring duties this time with a score that serves as more a beautiful homage than anything distinctive. 

Alright, so what doesn’t work? Well, take a wild guess: Jared Leto. And truth be told, it may not be his fault…well, not entirely his fault. As far as I’m aware, the only two screenwriters credited with writing the script are Hampton Fancher and Michael Green. Fancher co-wrote the original film and Green’s work on the TV series ‘American Gods’ is proof enough that he’s an excellent writer. But I’ve also heard from several sources that Ridley Scott, who serves as a producer this time, also had a hand in the screenplay. Now whether any of men contributed to writing Leto’s character is subjective if not redundant, but suffice to say the same adjectives could be used to describe the character of Niander Wallace. In nearly every scene he’s in, the film’s already slow burn pace comes to a complete stop as Leto attempts to channel Marlon Brando in ‘Apocalypse Now’…you know, the role Brando gave as much dedication as a wet fart after a hearty Mexican lunch? One factor that has supposedly kept audiences away is the film’s run time, clocking in just shy of 3-hours. While I definitely felt the film’s length via bathroom breaks, not once during the 163 minutes was my attention beginning to wain. 

So how do I summarize my opinion? Easy — Ridley Scott’s ‘Blade Runner’ is a good film, but Denis Villeneuve’s ‘Blade Runner 2049’ is a *great* film.

OVERALL RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ out of ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 

Hall Of Shame: A Letter to Disney

AUTHOR’S NOTE: When originally published, I had erroneously stated that the ‘Hall of Presidents’ attraction was located at EPCOT instead of its actual location at Magic Kingdom in Walt Disney World. I had confused the attraction’s location with ‘The American Adventure,’ a similar show located in EPCOT’s World Pavilion that also deals with Audio-Animatronic historical figures from U.S. history. This error has since been corrected and references to the location have been modified to better fit the narrative. (12/22/2017)

Hey Disney,

It’s Rob. I’m a former cast member, Disneyland Resort 2010-2014. Remember me? It’s been a while. How’s things? Shanghai looking lovely I see. Can’t wait for Star Wars Land (you’re–you’re not gonna call it that, right?). I heard D23 was an absolute smash. Big things on the horizon for you!

Huh? Yes, yes, I’m aware that Pandora – The World of Avatar is open at Animal Kingdom, thank you for reminding me. Pardon me if I’m out of line, but I still think it’s one the dumbest and most expensive embarrassments in the history of shortsighted decisions you’ve made since…well, pretty much every decision the company made between 1967 to 1983. Not sure which executive thought it was a brilliant decision to acquire the theme park licensing for James Cameron’s amusing magic trick — no, not the CGI 3D effects, but rather how he made a film that grossed $2.7 billion at the box office before being subsequently forgotten by everyone who ever saw it.

 

“We’re really excited for Pandora as a new addition to the park, Jim. Soooo, um…when did you say those sequels coming out?”

Oh, hey! This year marks the 50th anniversary of The Pirates Of The Caribbean attraction! That’s exciting! So what do you have planned? Oh…you’re changing the ride yet again to be more “politically correct”? Gee, I remember the last time you did that where you added fruit baskets in the womens’ arms so it looked like the pirates were chasing food, not the ladies. I seemed to remember how stupid that was back then.

In a world where horny, shitfaced pirates remain celibate until the wedding night.

But hey, I’m not gonna argue some Disney purist “How-Walt-Would’ve-Wanted-It” bullshit, nor am I gonna go all Fox News by saying feminist snowflakes are ruining a classic ride with their trigger warnings and socialist ideas. But seriously…if you’re worried people would be offended by the “Take-A-Wench-For-A-Bride” scene because it objectifies women with implied sex trafficking — then you should also take out Mayor Carlos being water tortured by the pirates in the well, or pirates getting publicly intoxicated while shooting off guns. Or just get rid of the whole ride…instead of constantly bowdlerizing an attraction dedicated to the history of men who…oh, I dunno, loved to rape, pillage, and plunder? To be fair, there are worse things involving this ride being associated with alcoholics who abuse women. But I digress…

Photo unrelated. maybe.

HEY, speaking of rape, pillage, and plunder, looks like you’re going ahead with Donald Trump being added to the Hall of Presidents at Magic Kingdom in Walt Disney World…which kind of takes two steps back to the whole “dumbest and most expensive embarrassments in the history of shortsighted decisions.” I understand that your company is for all intents and purposes apolitical and intended to be enjoyed by everyone, regardless of their politics, beliefs, religion, stance, etc.. And no matter how good the intentions are, including American politics into anything related to, well, you is going to be a battle no matter how innocuous it seems.

I’m sure there was a good amount of flak you faced when you introduced George W. Bush into the Hall it what feels like a century ago when we all thought “Dubya” was a shoo-in for worst U.S. President ever. And when Barack Obama was added in 2009, I don’t doubt he got a few jeers as well. In fact, I was surprised to find out that you didn’t start adding incumbent presidents until 1993 with Bill Clinton be the first one to lend his voice for the speech. Seems like there’s no better way to ruin an Orlando family vacation than parents forcing their kids to listen to a boring educational show before audience members start shouting blowjob jokes at the stage.

What’s weird is they started shouting them at Gerald Ford

I’m not gonna mince words here — you known goddamn well who Donald John Trump is, so there’s no need to rattle off his greatest hits. Getting tired, sunburnt tourists in the same room with local Orlando passholders drunk from Epcot so everyone can watch a robotic Trump stand in front of every American president before him while he garbles a prewritten speech that he paraphrases 92% of anyhow? My God, they only way it could get more Floridian is by getting your arm bit off by an alligator after dropping your Margaritaville souvenir cup in a retirement complex’s man-made lake, causing you to inadvertently scream the N-word and confess you voted for Marco Rubio.

Seriously, fuck this place

This is probably one of the few times people wouldn’t fault you if the attraction was “Temporarily Closed” for the season (or two). We have a President who [possibly] colluded with the Russians in a political scandal that makes Watergate look like a bunch of temps got caught stealing office supplies. Chances are even the Richard Nixon animatronic is grumbling at the bullshit.

“Why do they keep yelling ‘blowjob’ at me? Wait, is Clinton really ‘Deep Throat’?!”

Have you ever considered to revamping the attraction to not feature decisive figures who held office? How about just showcasing the first, I dunno…24 Commanders-in-Chief? You have the all-star batters like Washington, Adams, Jefferson and Lincoln, followed by the pinch hitters like Madison, Monroe, Jackson, Van Buren and Grant, throw in a couple benchwarmers like Harrison, Tyler, Polk, Cleveland and, um, the other Harrison, and cut off at the 24th who was—Jesus, Cleveland again? Ok, how about the first 13 Presidents in honor of the thirteen original colonies, starting with Washington and ending with—Millard Fillmore? Who the fuck is he?  It’s like every president who served in-between Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt is so nondescript that the National Archives in D.C. has to double check on Wikipedia for which President Harrison came first

Official White House portrait, courtesy of the National Archives interns

Ok, ok, so maybe the selective revamp doesn’t work. Or you could always do what the Florida parks have been doing since you opened them in 1971 — just copy Disneyland but somehow make each attraction 6-minutes shorter than their Anaheim counterpart (*BUH-DUM-CHING*). In this case, we have Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln which was the granddaddy of audio-animatronics. I mean, why not?! Lincoln is probably one of the few Presidents who is universally adored by this country, so you’d easily avoid pissing off—well, you might piss off a few pro-Confederate yokels visiting from Tallahassee, but fuck ’em.

True story: I actually saw Great Moments the same week after the 2016 election results and I found myself blubbering like a baby at the recreation of Lincoln’s speech on “keeping the union together.” It was beautiful.

 “I too would like to announce I’m retiring from acting.”

In the end, none of this will matter since most of your ground work has been laid for Generalissimo Cheeto to join the ranks of free leaders. And despite some initial reports from Vice that Trump will *not* have a speaking role (which was later retracted), y’all seem pretty nonplussed over what could potentially be a PR nightmare. Not sure why you make such an effort to censor the misadventures of scurvy cursed buccaneers buying women to marry (although the heavyset bride seemed willing and ready) but are partially indifferent to showcasing a man who loves to grab women by the pussy as a simple of American pride and liberty.

…shit, you’re cutting this next, aren’t you?

It’s not like we needed another reason to visit Universal Studios instead for The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Oooh, sorry, that was low.

Still love you, always will.

Sincerely,

Rob

UPDATE (12/23/2017) — After numerous delays, including missing its initial debut during summer then late fall, the ‘Hall of Presidents’ finally had a quiet reopening on December 19, 2017 with the addition of Trump. There is no official explanation as to why the refurbishment took nearly a year to complete, although sources claim the delay was partially due to Trump being unhappy with the speech written by Disney for him to record and demanded to have his own people write the speech instead. Whatever the case is, the show now features an audio-animatronic President Donald J. Trump giving a brief speech while standing in front of the other forty-four American Presidents. And…it’s just…holy shit. First of all, look at this fucking thing. If you want, go ahead and watch this Stephen King-esque gargoyle speak. Naturally, Disney made sure the speech was non-partisan and family friendly, making the Trump robot a better U.S. President than the real guy. Thank God for the internet, though.

REVIEW: “Get Out”

 

We interrupt this profound psychological horror film to bring you a deleted scene from ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ 

To begin I’ll say that as a White/Caucasian male, if there was one thing I took away from this film in hopes that the same message was reached by others…all these years and I had no idea that WHITE PEOPLE ARE SCARY AS F**K.

This movie will most likely elicit two very different reactions from its audience members: some will be absolutely terrified with their heart pounding out of their chest…while others will be confused over when the movie will actually start being “scary”. And it is here where ‘Get Out’ becomes a Rorschach test where the differences between what white viewers see and non-white viewers see are stark. And this is important.

You see, every once in a while a horror film is released that not only scares the bejesus out of its audience members but manages to provide thought provoking commentary of its era. Films like ‘Invasion Of The Body Snatchers’, ‘Night Of The Living Dead’, ‘The Stepford Wives’, and ‘They Live’ were products of their decade. It seems ‘GET OUT’ is best suited for this era following the departure of the first black U.S. President, an increase in police shootings, the “Black Lives Matter” movement, and the incumbent president whose campaign was built on fervent racism from White Middle America. Given this, you’d be quick to assume the villains in a 2017 horror film about racial tension would at one point casually explain their pride in the legacy of the Confederate flag while wearing a “Make America Great Again” hat and polishing their stockpile of AR-15 assault rifles. But this is where ‘Get Out’ flips convention on its side by avoiding Hollywood’s archetypal depiction of racism in favor of a rather unexpected form of bigotry: white liberalism.

Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) is an intelligent young black photographer who is invited to spend the weekend with his girlfriend, Rose Armitage (Allison Williams) at her parents home in upstate New York. Chris is concerned that his white girlfriend has not told her parents Dean and Missy (Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener) of his ethnicity but Rose reassures that they are extremely progressive and “would’ve voted for Obama for a third time”. Upon arriving, Chris finds the Armitages to be hospitable albeit awkward but largely innocuous.

Chris takes notice of the family’s black maid Georgina (Betty Gabriel) and the black groundskeeper Walter (Marcus Henderson), both whose strange behavior infrequently switches from being eerily reticent to overwhelmingly intense. Later at a garden party, Chris is approached by friends and neighbors of the family who show bizarrely enthusiastic interest in his ethnicity, before recognizing the party’s other black guest (Lakeith Stanfield) as an old acquaintance yet displaying the same eccentric behavior as Georgina and Walter. Chris quickly begins to suspect that something is very wrong at the Armitage estate, but is he correct or is it just his paranoid imagination?

As I’ve mentioned, ‘Get Out’ will no doubt invoke divisiveness that will leave many feeling uneasy, especially over a topic that many are scared to discuss in fear of backlash. But that’s just it; the film WANTS you to be uncomfortable…it wants EVERYONE to be uncomfortable: For Black/P.O.C. viewers, it plays on an institutionalized fear of hospitable, progressive White people being just as distrusted and sinister as flagrantly racist Whites. For White viewers, it’s painfully awkward to watch the perfectly normal Chris interact with White people who attempt to use urban slang, name-drop that they know Tiger Woods, and candidly ask him “So, is it true Blacks are…bigger?”

Peele mixes psychological horror with dark comedy and sharp satire wit, but don’t expect any humor akin to his collaborative work with Keegan-Michael Key. The humorous moments feature Chris’ TSA officer friend Rod (Lil Rel Howery) whose comedic moments provide a refreshing relief from tension. The biting satire aims its crosshairs at the “Liberal Elite”, albeit in good humor. The Armitage family is shown to be socially progressive and all-inclusive, with Dean and Missy being proud Obama-philes while Rose jumps into SJW-mode the moment she senses any racial prejudice — and yet it’s their overt progressiveness that paradoxically makes them just as racist.

It’s absolutely shocking that this is Peele’s first film he’s ever directed–technically speaking from a director’s standpoint, it has the mark of a veteran filmmaker. He knows how to use shadows, wide shots, and atmosphere; he knows how to use color properly for symbolic purposes without making it painfully obvious. The cinematography pays heavy homage to Stanley Kubrick while the quick cuts to exacerbate tension is a page taken right out of Alfred Hitchcock. Everyone–EVERYONE–is well cast in their roles; Daniel Kaluuya performance as Chris is so likable, charming, and relatable that put him in the same league as actors Chiwetel Ejiofor and Giancarlo Esposito. Allison Williams is fantastic as Rose which he manages to flex her acting muscle outside of HBO’s ‘Girls’, while Bradley Whitfield and Catherine Keener absolutely SHINE in their respective roles as the Armitages.

Now it’s not without its flaws: the music started out ok but I noticed the filmmakers gave into the cliche horror movie trope of using a “musical sting” during jump scares which is unbelievably cheap. I’ll also be one of the few to admit that the third act completely falls apart and I was a little disappointed in the ending. I won’t spoil anything but I can’t help but feel the ending was reshot at the request of the studio, which would explain why it drastically shifts in tone from the buildup.

All things considered, I could honestly talk for days about this movie, and this review didn’t even convey 1/3 of the thoughts I’ve conceived since the end credits rolled. Let me just put it like this — It’s March, and I’m already declaring this film to be ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES OF 2017. Seriously. Now as I’ve said, many of you will find the movie to be conventionally scary while others will dissect it like a Salvador Dali painting…either way, that has the makings of a horror classic and it’s entertaining as hell.

OVERALL RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ out of ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

REVIEW: “Logan”

Hugh Jackman as Charles Bukowski in the biopic film, ‘Truly Horrible Lives’ 

Full disclosure; I never liked the X-Men movies. Despite grossing over $5-billion at the box office since the film franchise debuted back in 2000, the movies have ranged from mediocre (‘X2’, ‘Days of Future Past’) to excruciatingly awful (‘The Last Stand’, ‘Apocalypse’) to downright fucking atrocious (‘X-Men Origins: Wolverine’) The fact is that out of 17 years and ten films produced, there have been only two good X-Men movies — ‘X-Men: First Class’ and ‘Deadpool’. And I don’t even consider the latter an “X-Men movie” given its meta humor that in fact parodies the film series; it would be like saying Mel Brooks’ ‘Spaceballs’ is included in the ‘Star Wars’ saga, but I digress.

More importantly, the two good movies share something in common: they’re the only films that don’t revolve around Wolverine, the franchise’s golden boy. In the past two decades we’ve had at least 4 different actors playing Batman (yes, I’m including Will Arnett), 3 different Spider-Man’s, 3 different Incredible Hulk’s, and 2 blandly indistinguishable Superman’s…yet Wolverine has only been played by Hugh Jackman. This itself is pretty noteworthy but also serves as the catalyst to the series’ one-note symphony…it’s ironic how the Stan Lee/Jack Kirby comic books were notable for featuring diversity and inclusiveness, yet the films focus primarily on a tall white heterosexual male with the body of a modern day Greek Adonis while more diverse X-men as cast aside as featured players (*cough*Halle Berry*cough*). If that wasn’t enough, Wolverine got his own series of spinoff movies, which seems pretty redundant since the only distinguishable difference between the parallel movies is that one has Wolverine working with the X-Men mutants and the other has Wolverine working with non-X-Men mutants.

Which brings me to the latest entry, ‘Logan’. Directed by James Mangold (‘Walk the Line’, ‘3:10 to Yuma’) and written by Scott Frank (‘Minority Report’, ‘Get Shorty’), the film is touted as Jackman’s last ride as the eponymous gruff anti-hero…which like an aging rockstar he keeps announcing then makes another comeback. Mangold had previously directed the last entry in the Jackman spinoffs, ‘The Wolverine’, which saw Jackman/Wolverine’s physique being so unrealistically ripped that it entered the Uncanny Valley. But Jackman’s uncanny ability to maintain if not improve his muscular physique is why he is THE Wolverine — he somehow looks better pushing 50 than he did at 30. But can an audience really connect with a character who is not only physically flawless, but cannot be killed or wounded? Simply put, yes…

The story begins in the not-too-distant dystopian future where we see James “Logan” Howlett (Jackman) has long shed his identity as the infamous “Wolverine”, instead becoming a pathetic image of his former self; drunk, depressed, disheveled, and full-blown misanthropic. While working as a limousine driver around west Texas, he frequently crosses the border into Mexico to deliver prescription drugs to Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart), who is in the late stages of an unknown neurodegenerative disease that has turned the once wise and omniscient Professor into a demented, gibberish-spewing manchild. Xavier also suffers from seizures that leaves him unable to control his mutant telekinesis powers which is suppressed by the finite supply of Logan’s drugs. It is revealed that not only have the X-Men disbanded, but mutants themselves are on the brink of extinction as for unknown reasons no new mutant has been born over the past 15 years. It is also subtly implied that the “State of Liberty incident” (from the very first film) was the only “true” event that involved the X-Men while the subsequent stories were fictionalized exploits featured in comic books about the mutants*

*(suffice to say, this retcon of the ENTIRE film series is brilliant, as it fixes the countless number of plot holes in the franchise’s increasingly convoluted continuity that’s frequently debated/criticized by fans)

Logan is approached by a mysterious woman (Elizabeth Rodriguez) who pleads that he escort herself and her “daughter” Laura (Dafne Keen) to North Dakota as they escaped captivity from—-OH, COME ON, it’s a goddamn X-Men, so of course—-a villainous biotechnology corporation that has been experimenting on mutants and their
powers. Through circumstance, Logan is left taking care of both Laura and Xavier as the three make the long journey to reach the Canadian border. They’re also being chased by the biotech company’s ruthless mercenaries lead by Donald Pierce (Boyd Holbrook), because you can’t have an evil biotech organization without a slick-haired, smooth-talking psychopath enforcer with a southern drawl. Oh, and spoilers if you haven’t seen the trailers already or any of the TV commercials — Laura has special mutant powers similar to Logan.

Here’s the thing: the plot is generic as shit, if not downright lazy…but I found myself not being too bothered by this. That’s because the plot comes secondary to the film’s focus and overall allegorical theme — disenchantment or disappointment. We’ve spent nearly two decades watching these characters in their thrilling adventures together, often saving the world and standing up for everything that is good and just…and now we’re told they’re all dead. Worse, we’re not even spared the details into who or how they died. Meanwhile, Logan is painfully fall apart as his powers slowly turn against him — the adamantium fused in Logan’s body is poisoning him which has weakened his healing powers. At the same time, he (along with us) witnesses his one-time mentor and friend Professor Xavier mentally deteriorate into dementia with bouts of mood swings, thus taking on the role of an adult who begrudgingly must take care of their elderly parent as they succumb to Alzheimer’s disease. It’s all heartbreaking, unsettling, frustrating, and uncomfortable — and it works, so damn well.

‘Logan‘ is an X-Men film is like ‘Schindler’s List’ is a “war film” or ‘Apocalypse Now’ is an “action-adventure film” — that’s technically correct but rather myopic. The film’s connection to its parental universe is tenuous at best; aside from a few mutant powers shown, the whimsical imagery from the previous films is near completely absent and replaced with a gritty, nihilistic atmosphere. For all intents and purposes, the film fits perfectly in the movie sub-genre of “Neo-Western” with the story, the characters, the locations, the cinematography, the color schemes, etc.. In large part it pays tribute to the 1953 western film ‘Shane’, right down to the characters watching the movie on TV as well as one of the characters recites the lines. It also pays homage to other films and genres, like ‘True Grit’, ‘The Cowboys (1972)’, ‘Once Upon A Time in The West’, ‘Paper Moon’, and ‘The Road’.

The film’s performances were good, not great, but I wasn’t expecting ‘On The Waterfront’. Jackman is Jackman…he’s played the same character for so long that it’s hard to distinguish any new artistic choices he’s made in the role (which has always been: grimace, surly attitude, sarcastic comment, snarl, painful scream, animalistic yelling, rinse and repeat). The standout performance goes to young Dafne Keen playing Laura/X-23, who despite being a mute character for two-thirds of the film, her facial expressions and poise really shine. The other standout role is Caliban, the albino mutant ally of Logan and Xavier played by British actor/writer/comedian Stephen Merchant in a role that was surprisingly heartfelt and deep. You’re also probably aware that unlike the PG-13 video game violence in the previous movies, ‘Logan’ goes for a hard R-rating with some pretty gruesome moments of Logan’s claws skewering, filleting, and dicing bad guys, as well as Jackman using “fuck” at least five times within the first four sentences he speaks in the film. Even I think that’s fucking gratuitous.

‘Logan’ paradoxically succeeds at differentiating itself from conventional comic book films while drenched with countless genre tropes and cliches. I found myself really liking the movie immediately upon watching it in theatre, but was then struck with a familiar sensation I had the last time I saw an X-Men film in theatres — I liked ‘The Wolverine’ and ‘Days of Future Past’ upon their first viewing too, but my opinion has waned since repeated viewings and now I look at both those films as dreadfully so-so if not completely banal. Which is why I can only say for certain that ‘Logan’ is a good movie — for an X-Men movie.

OVERALL RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️ out of ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 

Your Show Sucks, and You Should Feel Bad: Watching the Worst Musical Ever Written

First thing’s first: I hate winter.
For all my California compatriots who are suffering from the sweltering conditions of it being mid-February and the lows are 85˚F…you’re right, that does suck. You know what also sucks? 4˚F with a wind chill factor of -15˚F. But hey, I didn’t move to the East Coast for the weather, at least that’s what I repeat to myself 56x every night while I spend twenty minutes in the hot shower trying to regain feeling in my frozen testicles. So I get it now; winter sucks, and I say that experiencing my first winter. No, it does not snow everyday here in winter, and boy I wish it would because snowfall means the temperature is warm enough for precipitation. Manhattan is giant wind tunnel, so the coldest days are the ones where there is no snow or rain, but it’s sunny and the wind blowing 20 MPH with subzero temperatures in my face, which is great because I’ve always wanted to know what I’d look like if I got Botox done out of a shanty office in downtown Ciudad Juarez.

You have to stay active during the dreary winter months in the city. Luckily, it’s “Pitch Season” for New York’s theatre world. While Broadway forces tourists to spend $350 a pop to watch Hugh Jackman not be Wolverine (but hey, dancing!), fresh young artists and composers make the pilgrimage to the theatre mecca of the Big Apple to be the next big hit on stage. Luckily for me, my roommate/landlady (Landmate? Roomlady? Have I made this joke already?) is a former Broadway producer with connections in theatre. Before you say anything, no, I’m not using her to push my own agenda as a writer; playwriting isn’t my pint of beer. However, the tenant that had lived in my room prior to my residence did in fact use her connections to get the ball rolling on his own stage work. Initially I thought that was a pretty cool thing as I don’t need to tell you what an honor it would be to have a play debut in New York, even if it’s not on Broadway. Hell, having it perform on Staten Island is…eh, close enough? But we all need to start somewhere, and given that he’s a fresh faced playwright, I imagine he’ll work his way up, having his show first worked on—
Off-Broadway?? Really??? Whoa…

For those not familiar with how theatre in NYC works; “Broadway” is obviously the highest tier for a show to perform on. “Off-Broadway” is the second highest, with the amount of “off’s” in the name really setting the level of legit. The logistical difference between Broadway and Off-Broadway goes beyond simply the theatre being located on the eponymous street; Off-Broadway shows are typically performed in theatres with a seating capacity between 100 and 499, and can be located anywhere in the city, even on Broadway. Needless to say, having your show performed Off-Broadway is still a major accomplishment, as many well-known productions made their debut in the smaller houses:  “Godspell,” “A Chorus Line,” “Little Shop of Horrors,” etc. An even bigger accomplishment is being a completely unknown playwright – as in you have literally written nothing else – and having your first play workshopped Off-Broadway. Good for you, buddy! I’m sure it’ll be a great dramatic perf—

Oh, it’s a musical. Huh. So let me get this straight; you’ve never written anything prior, and your first musical is being workshopped Off-Broadway? That’s kind of like writing your first screenplay and having it bought by Miramax Films after one treatment. Oh wait, that actually happened. In other words, this guy hit the jackpot! Dreams really do come true in the greatest city on the planet!

And then I attended the first reading.

What I am about to share with you is the cold reality in why talent doesn’t necessarily mean you will become famous in the entertainment industry. It’s mostly a game of luck, and fucking knowing the right connections – it was the worst piece of shit I have ever watched. No, I’m not being harsh. Being harsh would be along the lines of saying, oh, “I’d rather get gonorrhea in my eye balls and herpes in my ears than watch or hear this show ever again.” So I think I’m being relatively generous in the brief summary. I don’t even know where to begin…

My roommate and I arrived at the Tribeca Grand Hotel, located between Sixth Avenue and Church Street, promptly at 4:30 PM on a Sunday afternoon. I don’t have to tell you it was freezing balls outside because I believe my description of the weather in January at this point is superfluous. The Tribeca Grand was a four-star luxury hotel in heart of Lower Manhattan that had definitely seen better days, but still felt justified charging guests $499 a night for crawlspace-sized rooms (a common theme with most of the hotels in the city). The atrium looked like something out of “Blade Runner” – industrial, rundown copper colors with hints of art deco from a more prosperous era. I noticed instantly they were still serving brunch in the lobby at nearly 5:00 pm, but that’s probably because I was starving and anytime is a good time for cold, sloppy scrambled eggs that had been sitting out since 11:00 am.

(We already know he’s about go down an attention deficit rabbit hole, because he had begun writing this around 10:00 pm Sunday and finished around 8:00 am Monday, not once leaving his computer. Sure enough, A LOT of things we had to cut but don’t worry, a lot of it was unnecessary ranting. We now return you to the main story. Thank You)                                                                                                    -The Editor

Take a gander at the notes I wrote during the performance:

The musical is called “Social Life”, and this was arguably the first offense. To start, could you fucking pick a more monotonous name for your show? What, was “People Talking” already taken? It sounds like what you would use as a working title. I think what’s baffling is such a bland excuse for a name actually made it to the show’s first reading without one cast or crew member raising their hand and saying, “Uh, that’s not the actual title, is it?” What’s even more baffling is how none of the playwright’s family, friends, coworkers, and/or fellow starving artists pointed this either. I mean, I’m not overreacting, am I?

The plot in a nutshell is about a white bread suburban family as they carry about their lives in a technology driven world. And…that’s pretty much it. Seriously. There’s really no conflict, or story per se, as it’s more a jumbled mess of vignettes that are incongruously tied together. You have a husband and wife with two teenagers living in a house together. The name of characters? Yeah, they didn’t have any. I’m not even being hyperbolic, none of the characters had names, so everyone goes by the noun of their family role; the husband is called “Father,” the wife is called “Mother,” and from what I recall the teenager siblings were just “Son and Daughter.” Oh, and there’s a Grandma in there as well, but I’m not sure what her name was. It’s not even five minutes into the performance, and suddenly I wished I hadn’t turned down that Cadillac margarita the creepy 58-year old guy at the lobby bar offered to buy me.

As I said, the “story” is more vignettes about a family so vapid they make the Osmonds look like the Kardashians. Speaking of banal pop culture references that were already dated before I wrote that last sentence, nearly every line of dialogue spoken by the family members seems to be written circa 2009. I assume this is why most successful playwrights and musical composers steer clear of contemporary settings; to avoid dating their show. I could give this the benefit of the doubt by saying that not only is this a workshop reading, but perhaps it’s the author’s intention to allow subsequent productions to have carte blanche in updating references to fit whatever is contemporary…but this is a workshop reading, so I will point out that the show’s cultural references are ludicrously archaic. Simple solution: don’t have them.

We are first introduced to “The Son,” who serves as the de facto main character simply by having the most scenes…which is probably the saddest description I’ve ever written about a fictional character. He operates a video blog, which I can only assume was to give the character a purpose to break the fourth wall while concurrently demonstrating how social media alienates us  — but I could be giving the concept too much credit and it’s really much ado about nothing.  Next we have “The Father” whose character arc is nicknaming his iPhone, “Erin Brockovich.” There’s no punchline, that’s simply what he names it. Um, Mr. Playwright? You can’t do that…you can’t set up what is clearly intended to be a joke, and then not explain it. That’s called a “cop-out.” It’s lazy writing. When are then introduced to “The Mother” who is shown to be walking a tightrope dealing with her husband’s delusions of being a movie producer…which for all intents and purposes, I purposely didn’t mention that about the Father because it’s a subplot that manages to be crucial to the story yet frivolous at the same time.  As for the Mother, the playwright doesn’t seem to understand female characters (or, you know, characters), so she becomes a bored housewife looking for excitement. Well, I think that’s what her motivation was…to be honest, I completely forgot if she had any aside from being an underwritten cliché.

Heeeeey, while we’re talking about underwritten female clichés, our next character is “The Daughter.” I don’t even know where to begin with this role; it’s an amalgamation of every single stereotype about teenage girls – shallow, ditzy, spoiled, ignorant, Californian accent, always texting, always posing for selfie pics, addicted to Twitter, crushes on Robert Pattinson (topical!), dates older guys, etc., etc., the list goes on. You know, I’ll play devil’s advocate for a moment: yes, there are quite a few teenage girls out there that fit the above description to a tee. Shoot, some of the older women I hear chitchatting on the subway speak with a similar dialect and enjoy similar tastes. But is it really necessary to play into said stereotypes? It doesn’t matter, because while the other family members are underwritten, the Daughter serves no purpose whatsoever. None.  You could literally write the character out of the script and it wouldn’t change a single thing, which is pretty rough considering none of the others are truly irreplaceable. And there’s “Grandma,” who is the cool/ sassy/funny/wise matriarch who doesn’t understand modern technology and has the mouth of a sailor. Or the playwright could have saved time by just saying, “Betty White.”

The struggles that both the Son and Father correspondingly deal with seem to get the most coherency in the story, but that’s like being the world’s tallest dwarf. The first act ends with the implication of the Son hiding a well-kept secret; of course when I mean, “well-kept secret,” I mean the playwright uses the subtlety of flamethrower: the “manly” Father is disappointed in his Son who tried out for the high school football team, failed, then got bullied (and cyberbullied, because again, topical!) with people calling him a “FAGGOT” – Oh. Oooooh. Yup. Now it makes sense. Except it doesn’t, because the narrative keeps switching from blatant obviousness to perplexing ambiguity, or sometimes just abandons any reasoning altogether. It probably doesn’t help the Father and Son relationship, which you would think would be the most conspicuous angle given the context, is practically nonexistent. Meanwhile, the female roles are written so poorly they might as well be stage props. Just a reminder, I’ve only covered Act One, which I would also like to point out runs roughly under 30-minutes.

By the way, don’t forget this is a musical. I’ll break some of my negativity for just a moment to talk about pretty much the only contribution I felt had potential, granted with some fine tuning: the music. Because the show aims to be more en vogue with its contemporary setting, the music is largely a mixture of genres that include synthpop, EDM, and dubstep. But alas, there lies the problem…at least two of those genres aren’t exactly known for their lyrical content. So how do you write a musical with dubstep? Easy: you do what dubstep does and simply repeat the same lyric over, and over, and over, and over, AND OVER AGAIN. Jesus, I wish I was joking. If you look carefully at my chicken scratch note writing, I began reviewing every song individually…except none of the songs have any individuality. After the third musical number I pretty much said ah, fuck it.

From a musical standpoint, it so badly wants to be Jonathan Larson’s ‘Rent.’ It attempts to be uncompromising, meaningful, and thought-provoking…except it’s none of those things. I was never a big fan of ‘Rent’ due to a lot of its heavy-handedness; however, I do respect its brutal honesty and conviction. It’s dealt with controversial issues of the 90’s – AIDS, homosexuality, heroin, etc. – which it refused to compromise, and goddamnit, the characters at least had purpose and motive! In contrast, this is a show that can’t even bring itself to actually say the words “gay” or “homosexual.”  The “controversial” elements it tries to tackle is…I have no idea, because it fails so miserably at conveying a message at the end. There is no message, and if there was, it was lost on me. Was this show supposed to be anti-social media? Anti-technology? Anti-coherency?

“What the fuck did I just watch?” I said to my roommate as the houselights came up. She wasn’t too pleased either, given the hard work she had dedicated in her free time in assembling potential financiers for the budget. “What the fuck did I just watch?” We made the conscious decision to avoid the afterparty and left immediately. While the two of us lobbed back and forth on how we both hated what we just saw, my roommate revealed a two pieces of backstory that made things much more comprehensible – the first was that the playwright had never written anything prior to this, which in all honestly, I think I could’ve figured that one out. But then she revealed that the show is semi-autobiographical. Admittedly I did not know this prior to the reading, but it made sense why certain dynamics are set the way they are in the show.

But for all intents and purposes, it doesn’t change the fact it’s still a fucking awful show. If anything, to me, it changes it into a fucking awful show with a relatively sad backstory. I don’t know why, but the whole lack of being explicit regarding sexuality bothered me… in fact, I couldn’t help but feel the show had an frequent undercurrent of shame and humiliation.  The Son in the show we find out is gay, although it is not only done so ambiguously, it comes across as intentionally “unclean, sinful, and immoral.” The next time we see the Son, he is about to attempt suicide by drug overdose. Alright…now this could possibly be an honest approach to a common tragedy among many LGBT teenagers. Luckily, he does not go through with the act…but his sexuality is also never addressed again, nor is it even discussed as to why he was considering suicide!    Well, the Mother and Father are shown to be of some Christian denomination, and while there’s virtually no indication through out the entire show, we are given passing remarks that imply the Father disapproves of homosexuality. A bit hard to swallow (no pun intended) given that the Father never shows any kind of homophobia that goes beyond teasing his son for “not making the football team.” It’s kind of peculiar that the Father is aimed at a career in movie-making, yet chastises his son for not being “tough enough” for football…those personality traits don’t seem like they would belong to the same person.

Now as you’ve probably guessed, the playwright is gay; you’ve also noticed that I’ve refrained from using his name, real or pseudonym. I don’t know the whole story behind his parents’ knowledge of his personal life, and frankly I don’t need to know. But it’s very noticeable that there was a lack of clear resolution in the end, not only between the Father and Son, but the Son coming to terms with being comfortable with himself. I don’t know how much of the show is autobiographical like I was told, but personally I feel it’s only very loosely based off biographical elements. But if I’m wrong and there’s more fact than fiction? Doubtful, but if so…well then I suddenly empathize a lot with the playwright. It seems there are certain things he may not be secure about in his life, and this show may have been his attempt to candidly express his emotions.

But I digress….I still believe this was a severely, cataclysmically, appallingly, alarmingly, horrifyingly bad attempt at writing a musical drama.  The story, the lyrics, the dialogue, and yes even though the music had potential, it’s still forgettable dreck. The ending has a TERRIBLE deus ex machina that creates an illogical plot hole so big, it might as well have been a Pterodactyl crashes through the stage, swoops down and carries the characters off to Tatooine while Limahl’s “The NeverEnding Story theme” plays…damn, that sounds like a badass ending…what was I talking about again…?

Sure enough a day after the reading, my roommate knocks on my door to deliver the “good” news in that they secured funding for the production. I honestly had to take a good 30-seconds to comprehend that information: somebody actually gave money to fund that show…which means somebody actually sat and watched the exact same show I saw – same flaws, same blemishes – and thought, “This is great! It’ll be a hit! *clicks pen* what kind of name is ‘Cash?’ Dutch?” So this show got $1-million as a start. Admittedly, I’m not bitter in any way and I can say congratulations to them, it is quite an accomplishment – they still have to get far more money for the funding, as $1-million won’t even pay for the theatre space. But it’s certainly a stepping stone…bully for you!

You know what you should do with the funding you received? Buy an oil drum, fill it halfway with gasoline, light a match, toss it in the drum, then take all known copies of the play’s script along with music/lyrics, AND FUCKING BURN THEM.

Naaaaaaaaaaaah, I’m just kidding! What you should do is take that funding, and use it to hire a real writer. Or maybe a writing staff. Or something, possibly to make the whole thing salvageable.

Because your show sucks. And you should feel bad.

THE GOSPEL IS BACK FOR 2015, BABY

January 8th, 2015

Before I begin this entry, I’d like to start out by giving you the mental image of me placing an electric blanket squarely in my lap to defrost my frozen testicles. I just came back to my apartment after stepping outside for about thirty minutes to smoke and the current temperature in midtown Manhattan is 10˚F with a wind chill factor of -1˚F. This is after I spent about ten minutes putting on three layers of warm long-sleeve shirts, my knitted scarf, leather OJ gloves, my layered coat, my snow boots that go so high up I look like I’m invading Poland, and beanie…only to half smoke a cigarette before I suddenly freeze all moisture in my bottom as I noticed my breath in the cold air went from looking like a refinery smoke stack to a broken Febreeze nozzle. Only upon my return to the apartment did I resist the temptation of urinating on my frostbitten hands in order to regain enough feeling to flush the toilet.
Alrighty…with that information I’ve gifted you with, let’s get down to brass tacks.
I took a little break from writing the past month or so…and by break I mean I found myself pounding my head against the laptop keyboard at 3AM on Christmas morning trying to break the cursed spell of Writer’s Block. December was a pretty shit-tastical month for me as you may or may not know, which is kind of a shame given the previous eleven months proved to be quite a renaissance for myself. But I suppose all good things must come to an end, and for all intents and purposes the end of a good time just happened to be the goddamn holiday season. I guess it’s now the best time to inform my readers that, unfortunately, I am no longer affiliated with the Hilton Company. I won’t go into details what happened but I will let you know that it was a peaceful separation with little-to-no blood spilled, and there is no hard feelings I have towards the hotel brand, so there’s no need to say anything ill about them or remark that Sheraton is a better hotel. Because that’s simply not true…Hyatt is better.
I decided to fly back home to California for the holidays which was wondering getting to see my whole family and friends on the west coast; It was also wonderful not having to embark on a journey descending down 16-stories of apartments while wearing enough winter clothes to look like Jeremy Renner in “The Hurt Locker” every time I want a cup of 13-hour old brewed coffee from the bodega two blocks away while my body burns every calorie so I have enough energy to blink my eyelids. Sure enough, the outside temperature at night in Orange County got to about 42˚F which by that time I had considered to be “balmy”. Oh, and it snowed. Yes, in my humble southern Californian coastal town of Huntington Beach, little tiny flakes of frozen water managed to fall in my backyard before evaporating in the air 2-ft. before reaching the ground. I’m guessing this is nature’s way of either playing a cruel joke on me and/or discarding any evidence so my claims would be unverified.

I found myself rather disappointed in that despite the tireless efforts to force my literary mind to create a summary that recapped the entire year of 2014, nothing quite fit…so I instead spent the end of the year finishing two bottles of cheap brandy and half a carton of cigarettes. It was as if 2014 was eleven months of binged boozing at your favorite pub; the twelfth month is the check being delivered to your table as you grimace at the thought of looking at the total amount due (and whether or not the server deserves a tip over 18%), followed by three months in the new year nursing that hangover. Incidentally, I found myself looking around at many of my compatriots who found the fourteenth year in the new millennium to be a rather lackluster, if not disappointing year. I can’t speak for everyone in that sentiment as I regarded the year to be a rather big one for myself, but I can address a certain notion many share when it comes closer to the end; “Next year will be better,” “the new year will be fresh,” etc. Do people genuinely believe that by 11:59PM on December 31^st, every single problem or worry will vanish? Sorry, but yesterday’s problems are today’s worries and tomorrow’s regrets. I’m not even sure that’s a real saying as it sound rather cynical, but it’s honest – a new digit at the end of the year doesn’t automatically give you a clean slate…it just confuses you for several weeks when you write “today’s date” on checks.

But hey, why should I be so pessimistic about a positive idea that gives hope to people? And that’s just it; I have no reason to be. Of course, it’s been eight days into January so far and I will call it right now – 2015 will be one of the most interesting years I have ever seen.
Stay tuned