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Greetings chickadees and chickadudes, it’s Friday and a love letter in the form of a Mockingbird Movie Guide has landed on your desk. Alas, it was not your secret admirer who sent it but me, Madame Metallican, the slightly demented blogger attempting to lead you through a cinematic battlefield. This week is particularly perplexing as the movies all seem to be about feelings and there are hardly any explosions, in the literal or metaphorical sense. That's okay though. If we learned anything in our childhood is that it's okay to sometimes get in touch with our feelings and unbreak our hearts and wear off-the-shoulder sweatshirts. And also see what’s going on in theaters this week.
We are strong, no one can tell us we’re wrong.
SEE: Goodbye First Love
Admittedly, this choice may be the result of a bit of a process of elimination among the slim pickings this week, but the film looks beautiful, a story about first love and loss, unique while still being relatable. Most people can relate to the pain of adolescent romance, and now you can relive it with French accents and stunning locations. It was written and directed by a young, acclaimed female filmmaker, so you also get the bonus of supporting and experiencing a perspective that is still rare amongst this week’s (and most weeks’) releases. Tip: There is no '80s soundtrack for this tale of young love, so pair it with white wine as opposed to Haagen Daz. I can't tell you why.
RENT: My So-Called Life
There is one film among those being released this week that you could file under "save my money now and rent later": Darling Companion, which stars Kevin Kline and Diane Keaton. That is a match made in Actors with Depth Who Also Have Impeccable Comedic Timing Heaven (that’s where Cary Grant is!) but the reviews are middling at best. As such, I’d like to suggest buying/renting the series My So-Called Life, a work that perfectly captures how angst-filled, confused, ridiculous, beautiful and self-involved teenagers can be. And while I don’t share the same disdain much of the Internet does towards Girls (Joss Whedon is a product of nepotism, and that turned out fantastically, so maybe we should cut Ms. Dunham some slack) I feel like this show is a far superior depiction of the young and smart and female. Plus it is immune to the lack of diversity criticisms and contains the curiosity known as "Jared Leto as Decent Actor". Tip: Wear flannel. Why do you hurt me so bad?
SKIP: The Lucky One
Shall I? I shall, and blame it on the wine and flannel combo. The lucky one is the one who skips this movie. The lucky one is the one who has never read a Sparks “novel”. The lucky one is at a minimum safe distance from this tripe, with its plastic characters and saccharine story line. The lucky one is named Rachel Weisz, but that's neither here nor there. Zac Efron does have great hair and this going for him though, as a counterpoint. Tip: Ignore the counterpoint. There's no way this will die.
THE REST: I don’t want to think like a man, fuck off….but are there penguins….a Bob Marley documentary….some sort of teen gothic vampire thing…these things will RIP YOUR FACE OFF.
Heartache to heartache we stand,
Madame Taunt
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And it is also in our hearts and pants, for we are about to partake in another round of Marry, Fuck, Kill, a game of wits and a comedy of manners, with pictures. We are ladies of the world, in case you have forgotten, and as such we are exploring the fine art of music, evaluating the dudes it has to offer. Up first are, in no particular order, Andre 3000, James Hetfield and Chris Cornell, to be judged by Madame "Metallica seems like such a nice band" Taunt and Julee "Sucker DJs" auContraire.
Let us get down on this.
The Countess sings (quite well, actually): (This one's both frightening and fascinating. On one hand, whatever I do to James Hetfield will probably get me murdered (most likely via icy Medusa-esque stare down) by The Madame. But on the other hand, I am so interested to see if she does some crazy marry-fuck-murder-suicide combo on James that I'm willing to play this out.)
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...at a dive bar. Find weirdos to befriend, find weirdos to mock, find beer to drink. And for cheap. There is no need to dress up to wind down after a long week of being fabulous and ignoring the idiocy that surrounds you, and there is definitely no need to follow that idiocy to a club featured on an E! show with $40 fruity drinks. Plus you can take over a jukebox and play "Ace of Spades" on repeat to your heart's content. Hypothetically.
Madame Taunt
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Let us go back, shall we? Back to a simpler time, a time filled with glow sticks and platform shoes and hella good tunes when I was just an innocent drunk, still naïve* to the horrors of mind-numbingly stupid cinema. I remember it was a sunny day, very calm, when my roommate said, "You should really see Titanic. You’re the only person on planet Earth who hasn’t." So I agreed, because vodka, and that was it. That was the beginning of the end. I shaved my head, my heart went black and eventually I started angrily blogging under a pseudonym. Nothing will give me back those three hours, nothing will help me unsee that little old lady throwing the gorgeous necklace into the ocean (PAWN IT), nothing can spare me from the residual negative effects of the misguided faux feminism that inspired many a moron, and nothing will erase the memory of the Lucas-level flat dialogue. I was ruined into the curmudgeon** I am today. (Thank god I already knew these boys, otherwise the effects would’ve been much more apocalyptic.) And now that movie is not only back but also back in 3D and I have no choice but to blog from the fetal position and attempt to work through my anger (fear?) regarding this Cameron masterwork. With vodka.
Talk about a bad trip, but let's go anyway.
SEE: Damsels in Distress
Now this may be something to help me find a happy place, or at least feel a little more centered: a deadpan comedy about three young women trying to help their fellow students take charge of their lives and help themselves in the process. Damsels in Distress takes place at a small college and was directed by the man who did The Last Days of Disco- these are things worthy of nostalgia, times when I had hope and when movies, particularly of the independent kind, were excellent. And with Greta Gerwig and Adam Brody*** this should be a perfect antidote to the uber commercial killer iceberg story and also provide a delightful respite from the hordes of fans going to see a model boat sink.
RENT: Comic Con Episode IV: A Fan’s Hope
This may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but since my head is firmly planted up my own ass, I’m going to recommend you rent this documentary on Comic Con and the super fans who make the pilgrimage to this nerd Mecca every year. I can relate to that kind of obsessive fandom, and this quality is probably a big reason why I despise the sinking ship movie so much: once you're exposed to art that exists on more than one level, that is defined by innovative visuals, unique characters and epic stories you have no time to for movies about characters that can “see the real me” but can’t see a way to fit on to a huge plank of wood so as not to freeze to death. I suspect most people can relate to the passion of the Comic Con-ners on some level, even if that obsession doesn’t involve Mulder and/or Scully. Plus Nathan Fillion goes to Comic Con, and who doesn't love Nathan Fillion? (Satan.)
SKIP: Titanic 3D
The moment of reckoning is here, or maybe it’s a moment of clarity, or perhaps I’m just really annoyed and that is when my soul is at equilibrium, but once again, I get to mock a movie from my traumatic past as it is re-released in my bloggy present. I will never understand why people revere this movie so, why a writer with limited capabilities took on class, gender roles, an historical event and romance when he has little empathy for humanity or any respect for his audiences, or why this film has 11 Oscars. And I will never let it go because I will never understand what the average American sees in this sort of pop culture, or why it was (and still is, to a degree) accepted by the establishment, no matter how much pondering and introspection I partake in. I'm on the outside looking in, mocking character inconsistencies and that wretched dialogue. Shot (of vodka).
THE REST: Mario van Peebles made another movie, respect….papal humor….Willem Dafoe kind of scares me in a good way…banking horror…an indie romantic comedy…DEAR GOD NO.
My hate (and bad jokes) will go on,
Madame Taunt
*I’ve never been naïve, but just go with it. Thanks.
** I was born that way. But Titanic definitely made it worse.
***I'm in too dark a place to get into the fact an ANTM alum is also in this flick.
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Long is the way and hard that out of Hell leads up to the culmination of the series known as The Replacements. And what a series it was: so many pretty men, so many silly words, and even a little math to keep it intellectually stimulating. There is nothing more one needs, except of course closure. I, Madame Taunt, am here to give you that closure, to answer the question that has been vexing my fellow ‘Birds for the last 900 weeks or so as indicated by their frequent demands for more booze and the general WORKING OF MY LAST NERVE and so forth, the question of course being, Who will the maiden choose? Who will she choose to replace the semi-recently betrothed Blond Bond?
Well, The Madame, after much deliberation and careful consideration of the other 'Birds arguments, chooses:
DANIEL CRAIG
(It is not for you to question, but rather to let the logic wash over you.)
LOOKS: He has them, and they are good. He is the perfect balance between manly ruggedness and a pretty baby face, with of course the manliness winning out in the end. Who trusts a pretty boy? Not I. I prefer a face with character, a face that is compelling- after all, isn’t that what that attractiveness is? He also scores points for deflecting the ire of the 40 year-old virgins who thought he wasn’t good enough to play James Bond with the aforementioned face, his accented, deep voice and that body. Ah, yes. The body. It is a legend, it is the stuff dreams are made of, it inspired Michelangelo to declare from the beyond, "Well done, God." It also looks great naked or in a suit. These are the facts as we know them. Score: The Handsomest
SKILLS: While I may wax mildly poetically about his bod, I do so quite facetiously; that is not the case, however, when it comes to discussing his acting ability. He is a proper leading man, with range and gravitas, as evidenced by his work in Layer Cake and Defiance, and he is an extremely adept character actor, which we saw in Road to Perdition and Munich. His portrayal of James Bond reinvigorated and modernized the series and even got the stamp of approval from the original. This, however, is kind of where the praise ends, unfortunately and unfairly. Perhaps it’s because his films are too commercial, too politically complicated, or too dark for Christmastime, but he has yet to receive the accolades he deserves: critical acclaim, nominations, awards, tiaras. What he does win are post after post on the greatest blog in the world and repeated references to his awesomeness by the editor of said blog. That should tide him over until the world catches up. Score: The Most Skillful
INTELLIGENCE: This is the least important section in this analysis but he still wins it. He makes good career choices, he keeps his private life private, he takes off his shirt on command. He is self-deprecating and unconcerned with the bullshit of being a movie star, which makes him the ideal choice for idol at Mockblog. He can also get with the eloquence and wit, as you can see in these interviews. And he can read! (One would assume.) While he worked steadily before becoming Bond, he handled that huge step from lesser known actor to megastar sex symbol with grace, humility and periodic nudity, not only maintaining and enhancing his success but also anticipating the needs of women and gay men the world over. Score: The Smartest
It was a valiant effort, ladies, but ultimately fruitless. This combination of handsome, tough, English-accented and naked can’t be duplicated. Just ask The Queen.
Welcome back,
Madame Taunt
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It was a light week, as we ‘Birds took some time for ourselves, meditating, composing sonnets, partaking in flaming Drambuie shots while The Dazz Band blares in the background. The usual. It was also a light week for Hollywood apparently, as the only thing of note (read: the only thing I noticed) was the adding of an irrelevant subtitle to the American release of a film in a patronizing effort to communicate with audiences. Oh, and the release of the smarter, more substantive Twilight. That is pretty sad, when I think about it. And think about it I have: where are all the good movies? Can’t they release some of the smaller, more intimate films that tend to get lost in the shuffle during the summer and fall months now? Why do marketing types change the names of films in America like we are all that simple? Why are yawns contagious? Am I really waiting to see The Avengers? But really, what is with those post colon words and phrases? I am Madame Taunt: Consternation, and I will just get into this and stop wasting your time.
This Week's Releases: Sedation. Let’s do this anyway.
SEE: The Raid: Redemption
As I mentioned above, The Hunger Games is out this weekend; I’m only peripherally aware of the books and as such can’t really speak to the anticipation surrounding these films. The satirical elements and dystopian themes give it an edge amongst your standard bullshit teenage fare and make the films look at least passingly interesting. My advice is, unless you're a mega fan, skip the hordes and check it out later. (I myself am a mega fan of several things and I would avoid me, too.) Curiosity: Satiation. Instead, go check out The Raid: Redemption, the aforementioned newly-subtitled action flick that is said to be innovative and awesome. Pure awesome, not from concentrate, ready for you to mainline. Sometimes awesome is what we need, a jolt or spike in adrenaline to get us through months called “March” and weather called “Ick.” Blog Post: Realization.
RENT: The Innkeepers: Gumption
Next Paragraph: Continuation. This is an example of a film that could get lost in The Avengers/ Titanic 3D landscape of the future: small in scale and budget as well as scope, starring relative unknowns (plus Kelly “Call Sign Charlie” McGillis). Find it On Demand now because it is great. A smart and tense ghost story with some of the most natural and likable performances you will see, plus poise and ingenuity in the filmmaking that transcends its independent-style budget. The hipster cred is there (Pat Healy and Lena Dunham are in it) but it is never off putting. And they use they use the term “moral imperative” as a punchline so it is of course my new favorite thing, all low-key audacity. My Fawning: Cessation.
SKIP: October Baby: Incomprehension
Look, I am good with you being a Christian. Go forth and evangelize. What I can’t understand is the need for such explicit proselytizing in what is ostensibly mainstream art when we live in the western world. I just can’t get into it, nor can I get into the pro-life movement on any level. Stop oppressing women, be it through intimidation, lobbying, legislation, attitude or cinema. Gravitas Productions: Fuck Off, I Never Really Liked Kirk Cameron That Much Anyway.
THE REST: My ex’s current wife is in something (good for her)…a charming indie with the erstwhile Dexter…a dark dance romance...hey Stephen Dorff!
That’s really it. That’s all. Whatever: Thesaurus.
Madame Taunt: Resignation
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Welcome, sweet cupcakes, to the Mockingbird Movie Guide, your buffet of film recommendations and random pop culture references. While The Dame is pilgrimage-ing it like a motherfucker to this man’s grave, it is I, Madame “Diane” Taunt, who is here to help you navigate a forest full of what seems like a million movie choices this week, options for your viewing pleasure or your viewing horror. Let us proceed with caution: the films are not what they seem.
SEE: Friends with Kids
This is a well-received indie, a movie that subverts the tired and frankly maddening romantic comedy genre, but it is the excellent cast that should really draw you to this film: Kristen Wiig, Maya Rudolph, Jon Hamm, Chris O’Dowd and the lovely and underrated Adam Scott. It is exciting that an actor like him, the subtle comedic genius type, gets to be the lead in a relatively mainstream movie; he brings heart and sarcasm in equal measure to everything he does and is completely devoid of any sort of Ryan Reynolds-esque cheese. It is also exciting that this movie was written and directed by (and stars) a woman, and also depressing that it is necessary to point this out in the year 2012. And yet. Anyway, support the weird and support the woman and I will promise not to tweet “Are we having fun yet?” at Adam Scott.
RENT: John Carter
The trailers for this look hilariously awful, on a nu-Conan scale, but the reviews suggest it is enjoyable, if you don’t take it too seriously, in a vintage Conan way. As such, my suggestion is to wait until it's On Demand or Netflix or whatever and watch it in the comfort of your own home where you can be free to mock or cheer in private, free to start your own drinking game (take a shot every time Taylor Kitsch smolders), free to enjoy a strangely wonderful adaptation of fantastic source material. Science fiction is good for the soul, you know. So is watching Friday Night Lights, if battles on Mars aren’t your thing, so maybe try that. Make some memories with Riggins. Learn all the non-Metallica references I make on this blog. Grow.
SKIP: Throw a dart at the rest of the releases, really
I went to sleep and woke up in a room, a lodge really, with weirdly-patterned floors and deep red curtains. There was a blonde, a statue and a backwards-talking dancing midget and I felt disoriented and old and I struggled to make sense of what was happening. The music was pretty cool, though. When I woke, I knew who had killed Laura Palmer and also what had destroyed my love of movies. It was the new Eddie Murphy shit classic. It was the trite romantic comedy starring the Tenth Doctor. It was the movie with the ridiculous name. Skip them. Skip them all. Don't get trapped for all of eternity in an alternate dimension of horrific films and secrets. Save yourself.
THE REST: Mmmm spicy yellowtail rolls….a gimmicky horror film starring the good Olsen….the erstwhile HI McDonough is in a limited release piece of crap…this was Israel’s entry for the foreign language Oscar…a Swedish magical comedy…a performance art documentary.
That blog you like is coming back in style,
Madame Taunt
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Does that title make sense? Does life make sense? No and no. It is all tomfoolery so get on board. We are back from a slight break to marry, fuck and kill our way through the population, this time around focusing on the more athletically inclined. The participants this time are Dame “Laker 4 Life” Derision and Madame “Go Big Red” Taunt, and the jocks are, in no particular order, Victor Cruz, David Beckham and Jeremy Lin.
Watch out for tip off jokes.
The Dame chants:
(The fact that The Madame didn't include a Laker in this round makes me slightly sad, nor was I given the opportunity to kill off Mark Cuban in an official capacity, but she did do me the favor of not including anything referring to a Tebow or a Roethlisberger, so I guess it's a draw.)
MARRY: Jeremy Lin. Why isn't Dwight Howard in this mix? Because that's who I'd want to pick. This choice is mostly due to strategy. If I can marry this young, up-and-coming-star of the NBA, I am banking on my chances of distracting him enough off of the court to not be able to play well on the court. Specifically when New York is playing Los Angeles. This man went to Harvard. He was born in L.A., raised in California and went from the D-Team to Starting in less than three months. This man isn't even thirty years old but he's got a solid future and, most importantly, he can introduce me to Dwight Howard.
FUCK: David Beckham, as if there's even a question as to why?
And also because I don't know if I'd want permanent sloppy seconds to a Spice Girl. (Give me a week and I'll tell you if he was able to convince me otherwise.)
KILL: Victor Cruz, because I'm sorry, I've never even heard of you. When I looked you up on the internets it informed that you not only play in the NFL on the East Coast but were also born in the later part of the 1980s. Though you play football, you will understand this baseball reference: Three strikes and you're out.
Madame Taunt cheers:
(I don't really understand why it isn't football season right now.)
MARRY: I’m going to choose Jeremy Lin for he went to Harvard which of course means he is smart and that our kids will be smart and even if they are stupid they can still go to Harvard. That’s covering the angles fairly well. Also, he seems like a pretty together dude and I’m thinking it might be nice to try “normal” and “stable” for a change.
FUCK: Have you seen Mr. Cruz do his touchdown salsa dance? Into the bedroom, good sir!
KILL: Oh Becks, you are so pretty and so very well-built but that voice. THAT. VOICE. It is like nails on a chalkboard to the tune of a Bieber song. Not even an English accent can save that nasally whine, and I fear that I would not be able to last three minutes listening to that before I threw myself in front of a Lamborghini Gallardo (that’s how I want to die, for the glamour and headlines) so this is just self-preservation.
This was a thrilling little display of strategy and athleticism, wasn't it? Like...cricket. With pictures of hot men. (The Mockingbirds, always on the cutting edge.) Come back for more awesomeness as the game is afoot, and will be for some time.
The Mockingbirds
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