T2 Trainspotting movie review: GenX running out of steam but chugging on
The sparse, cold satisfaction that could be wrung from Trainspotting’s punk insolence has been replaced by an exhausted cynicism. Which is exactly right.
Starbucks
Battleship meets Battleship Potemkin! (and other adventures in social networking)
Stuff my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
How to Survive a Plague (review)
A glorious ode to the supposition that a small group of committed people can change the world, and a reminder that the work is not yet done…
church of awesome: Starbucks in Starbucks
This is the best thing I have ever seen, ever…
The Darkest Hour (review)
A simple yet stupid riff on the disaster monster movie…
going Godwin on ‘Toy Story 3’; why ‘Splice’ isn’t sci fi (and neither is ‘Minority Report’ anymore); more: leftover links
Every week my browser gets cluttered up with tabs for stuff that I stumble across and figure I might be able to use as a Question of the Day or a WTF Thought for the Day or grist for some other post. And inevitably, I end the week with most of that material unused. But … more…
Green Lantern’s CGI wardrobe, cutting the cord to cable TV, sexy Shrek, and more: leftover links
Every week my browser gets cluttered up with tabs for stuff that I stumble across and figure I might be able to use as a Question of the Day or a WTF Thought for the Day or grist for some other post. And inevitably, I end the week with most of that material unused. But … more…
The Spy Next Door (review)
One wonders what sins Jackie Chan could have committed in a single lifetime to warrant having an abomination like this pathetic excuse for a movie weighing down his karma.
Bad Santa movie review: none more black
So, when I attended a screening on November 14, I was already primed for *Bad Santa,* the meanest, curmudgeonliest, blackest holiday movie I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen most of ’em. It’s like, How much more black could it be? And the answer is None, none more black. I haven’t laughed at film this hard all year, and maybe not last year, either. And much of that laughter sprung from shock: I spent half the film saying to myself, ‘Holy crap, I can’t believe they did that!’ and ‘They did *not* just do that!’ It’s hard to be shocking in the era of the Farrelly Brothers, but *Bad Santa* is shocking partly because it’s so unrepentant and unapologetic. There’s no attempt to infuse the film with heart or soul or sweetness or light. *Bad Santa* unrelentingly twisted. And that’s just wonderful.
