Archive for category Movies
Since I went to all the trouble of detailing the summer movies of 2013 that I intend to see, two of them have hit the theaters already. And somehow I’ve yet to set foot in the MegaUberCineplex or purchase a single kernel of exorbitantly overpriced, heart-clogging movie popcorn. Obviously, this makes me have a little sad. I mean, back in The Day, I’d happily wait in line at midnight, no matter what day of the week it was nor what time I had to be somewhere, you know, important, in the morning, to see a premiere.
As I’ve said before, though, I don’t have that kind of time anymore. Something about raising four-fifths of a basketball team while working full-time and trying to squeeze in an hour or so of writing regularly and, oh yeah!, not neglecting the poor Puddinette. So nowadays, if I really really want to see a movie, I generally go to see it at the Creeper’s Showing, which is always the 10 PM-ish viewing on Sunday night.
Don’t know what I’m talking about? Trust me, go see a movie about then. You’ll pick up on what I mean. I swear I’ve had entire showings to myself before. Which is, admittedly, nice, but then again, I always end up wondering if there’s something creeping up behind me.
Or maybe that’s just me?
I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this or not (and quite frankly, I’m too lazy at the moment to open a web browser and type in a couple of search terms to find out, which seems like I’ve leveled into a whole new echelon of slothfulness, if you ask me), but I’ve been doing an absolutely miserable job of curating my Netflix queue lately. I mean, I believe I have some of the most recent releases somewhere in the basic vicinity of the top of the list for the disc-by-mail service. Then again, I once believed I could run so fast no one would see me. So, my personal faiths might not be the best thing to hang your hat on.
The worst thing is, I’m also not remembering to remove movies I don’t need to get anymore. Case in point, a few weeks ago, I watched The Hobbit via pay-per-view – because, I’m impatient like that sometimes – and then, just three short days later, received that very film by mail because I’d forgotten it was currently King of the Queue.
And nobody’s got time to watch three hours of the same first third of a book twice, knowutImean?
I didn’t really intend to start a whole thing when I wrote last year’s summer movie preview post. But the time went by and summer became fall, Halloween gave way to holiday fun, which then became cockle-shrinking, frigid, horrible winter. All horrible, overdone things end eventually, though – at least, that’s what I tell myself every time I see they’ve made another Hangover movie – and so winter became spring, and now, we teeter once again on the edge of summer.
Which means that it’s time for More. Summer. Movies! Huzzah!
As I looked over the list of movies coming out this summer, one thing became abundantly clear right away: there was no way in pink, puffy, Marshmallow-Land I could possibly give you 100 words about each of the motion pictures I’ve got checked on my “to see” card this year. If I did, this post would scroll longer than a Beyonce contract rider*, and most of you would die of old age or extreme disorientation before you got to the end. Plus, bed sores.
Well, I guess not everyone reads my blog on a tablet in bed. Can you get “office chair sores”? “Toilet sores”?
Ahem. Right. Off topic. Rambling, even.
To be completely and totally honest with you—and really, isn’t that both what we want in this relationship?—Tuesday’s Big. Exciting. News! wasn’t really “new” news anymore by the time it posted on Tuesday. Because, in fact, I’d gotten The Call, (yes, one of those calls all writers dream about as they toil the long, late hours in the obscurity of their writerly caves, grumbling and nit-picking their work like a curmudgeonly might make over his never-going-to-be-quite-perfect-lawn) a week ago today.
Trust me, no one had a harder time not saying anything for the whole weekend than I did. But often times in publishing, there are things, breathtaking, pulse-quickening things, that simply Cannot Be Spoken Of Yet. Henceforth, we’ll call them Temporarily Secret Things, and with luck there will be more on the horizon.
Anyway, the point is that Thursday, April 11th, was kind of a special night for me and the family.
But Thursday is a school night, and I had a hockey game, so it wasn’t quite the perfect time for a little in-home celebrating.
Friday, though, I had every intention of getting out the mirror ball, spinning up some records, and going full-blown wild.
In the past, this “movie in 100 words or less” thing I try to do has proven pretty difficult. I don’t always have opinions about a given thing, but when I do, my thoughts are rarely either neat or concise. In other words, if you asked me if I thought Daylight Savings Time was the bane of humankind’s existence on Earth or a productive manipulation of the daily clock based on our rotational orbit, I’d respond with a hearty, “Meh,” and then go back to trying to get caught up on DVR’d episodes of Vikings while using this years crop of Easter Peeps to diorama crime scenes from CSI: Miami.
Shut up, it’s not as bad as painting feet and faces on eggs and then using them in stop motion plays with Lego sets. You know who you are.
Given my propensity to ramble, though, if you instead ask me how I feel about sour cream, you might as well pull up a chair and pop some popcorn. Yeah, I won’t be finished with that subject until I’ve popped a capillary or two and I’m foaming at the mouth (short answer: sour cream is ewwww!—but that’s a different post)
Usually, the disc-sleeve inside that familiar red DVD envelope from the mail gets torn open the evening after Pete the Postman slips it into your mailbox. It’s like you’re a 10 year-old all over again and Santa just came and you’ve not only got a G.I. Joe with kung-fu grip, but also a full-scale Millennium Falcon and that Play-doh, um, thing that could make either fake spaghetti or fake poop depending on which shape you picked for the dough-stuff (Mmmmm, delicious, salty play-doh) to squeeze through.
Yes, I realize now that the “thing” was an extruder and the shapes were dies, but, you know, I am *cough* 30 *cough* years older at this point. Cut 10 year-old me a little slack—he didn’t know all the things then. Honestly, it’s not like he was the only one who thought that Luke Skywalker was going save to the galaxy with his “Life Saver” and a little help from Hand “I Shot First” Solo.
It’s not uncommon then I find myself waiting for a specific movie to arrive in the mailbox in that bright red envelope that’s now almost as familiar as the back of my own hand. Looper was one such movie. This business, unfortunately, happens to me often, probably owing to the fact that Netflix likes to punish “frequent flyers” by making them wait longer for high-interest, recently released films than for users that don’t take quite so much advantage of the as-many-discs-per-month-as-can-physically-be-shipped-to-you-and-back-for-one-fee model.
It’s hell being a consumer these days.
Full disclosure: I didn’t actually watch the Academy Awards last night. For one thing, I had a hockey game, and strangely, recreational beer league hockey in Northern Ky hasn’t yet affiliated itself with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. surprisingly, then, they didn’t have the Academy Awards on at rink. Even if not for that, though, I probably wouldn’t have dedicated myself to watching them they way I did, say, the Super Bowl. Which doesn’t really make sense, honestly, because the Oscars are at least as six-pack-and-snack worthy as the NFL’s “World Championship” game.
I’m serious, think about it:
Super Bowl: A bunch of guys dress up and try to win something that ultimately doesn’t really matter and either way you’ll never truly appreciate while people paid to talk, well, talk about how great everyone involved is. Also, advertisers try to get you to buy stuff.
The Oscars: A bunch of people dress up and hope to win something that ultimately doesn’t really matter and either way you’ll never truly appreciate while people paid to talk interview a bunch of other pretty folks and then gush about how great everyone involved is (well, unless Kanye is around). Also, advertisers try to get you to buy stuff.
I had myself a conundrum last Saturday night. One the one had, I had the Blu-ray for Flight at home, which looked all tempting and stuff. I mean, for one, it’s Denzel. Plus, everyone said, “This is a good movie”. Seemed like a risk-free way to spend my Saturday. On the other hand, though, I usually pool all my middle-aged guy lameness and watch Saturday Night Live at 11:30, hoping against hope that they’ll come up with something more creative and funny than that stupid Californians bit.
Failing that, all I can hope for is a segment Stefon during Weekend Update. Ridiculous as it is, it always makes me laugh.
I was honestly mulling my options carefully, right up until the moment I learned that Justin Bieber would hosting and the musical guest on the show last week. That’s just about the last thing I need disturbing my late Saturday evening “me” time.
It’s been a bit since I’ve done a Movie in 100 Words or Less. It seems like over holidays I was pumping ‘em out like every week or so, which is nearly as fast those crazy Duggar people pump out young-un’s with j-names. But then I got all wrapped up in some books or whatever, leaving you all to your own devices when it comes to popcorn-and-movie-time.
Clearly this needs to be remedied.
Luckily, I just so happen to have seen Ted for the first time recently. And if there’s any movie I should be able to reduce to 100 words or less, I’d expect Ted to be a good candidate. I mean, come on, it’s about a pot-smoking, beer-swilling teddy bear trying to make it* after being brought to life by a child’s wish two decades before.