Ah yes, the smell of the summer blockbuster season. Is it just me or does it smell oddly of some horrid mix of sweat, testosterone, and moldy milk?
Fast Five: You know, it's incredibly easy to make fun of this film. I honestly don't even have to try. The trailer does all the work for me. And I know, people like me aren't the targeted demographic for this movie. Mostly because people like me couldn't care less about 1) fast cars 2) douches 3) fast car driving douches or 4) omg moments so riddled with plot contrivances that even the lowest form of thinking humans go "wtf mate?" Yet, this is what counts for entertainment these days. Brains barred, none stop 'mommy make the car go vrooooom' duuuuuuude mentality which has infected - yes, infected - too many movies. Wake me up when Super 8 comes out.
Prom: A moment of honesty on here - I didn't go to prom. And for good reason, I have no interest in prom, the schenanigans that go along with it, or this movies frail attempt at making it seem like some bastardization version of Pretty in Pink meets Dazed in Confused with horrid undertones of Gleemania (sorry, I am not amused). Am I one of the rare early 20 something curmudgeons who derives some pleasure from belittling things that look moronic to me? Yes, and that's nothing new. And neither is this. Therefore go forth those of you who look upon this and think "fun" - I shall be more than cheerful at home, indulging in foreplay with Burton and Taylor.
Hoodwinked Too! Hood Vs. Evil: My god, what a title. I feel like I've died and gone to the lowest form of movie title hell. Too instead of Two? Hilarious! Hold on while I struggle to keep my milk in my nose while simultaneously struggling to keep plates on my arms in an over the top fashion. But that wasn't enough for you people, was it? You had to go 'Hood vs. Evil' - I've typed that twice and already my soul has formed a black hole in the universe. Why? Dear everything that is good and intelligent in this universe, why? I'm going off to a corner for some peace, this is just too painful.
Dylan Dog: Dead of Night: Fanboys charge! I'll still be the guy off in the corner mumbling to himself about the damned kids on his lawn.
Cave of Forgotten Dreams: Son of a bitch! That's where they've all gone? And Herzog got there first? Crap! Now I'll never get them all back. By the time I get there the dream I had about winning the lotto will have been mutated into this trying tale of me winning the lotto in the middle of South America as I slowly struggle through a detainment camp before ultimately getting into a bar fight with a grizzly bear.
13 Assassins: Take Seven Samurai's basic plot, throw in a @(!*load more action and bloodshed from a guy known for his 'colorful' take on the latter, and you get one hell of a polka routine. Seriously, this looks like it might be good fun, if not over the top ridiculous, but I think this is the type of ridiculous I can get behind.