If you haven’t seen the first Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs don’t worry, the opening of this sequel gives a full run-down of it. Wow. How lazy can writers be? I’m surprised a voice-over didn’t start the segment with, “Previously on Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs…”
Everybody likes to be pleasantly surprised. And these days, with the horror genre, it’s especially enjoyable. That sounds weird, to be really happy when a movie that involves bloody gruesome deaths is involved. Well, weird for those that don’t like horror movies, anyway. The rest of us just squee for joy at a film that offers us something unique or worthwhile.
Yes, I know, so many people either find these Riddick films tedious, uber cheesey and knuckle-headed, or just plain stupid. Me? I happen to find this to be my favorite of Vin Diesel’s gutteral, mono-syllabic, gravel-voiced character oeuvre.
The World’s End is a movie of several stories. Like the other two films Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg have done, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, the basic themes of friendship and the “world is full of mindless-automatons” are revisited. They do them well.
Elysium ain’t no District 9, that’s for sure.
It was beginning to look like I’d never type these words, but Jennifer Aniston has finally been in an excellent movie! And not just an excellent movie–but a better movie than any other Friends alumni has made.
Planes is an abomination wrapped inside a bullshit party. That’s
really all I want to write about this endless crap festival of a film
but since this is a review, I’m supposed to keep going. AND I SHALL.
The Way, Way Back... is way way awesome!
Groundbreaking? Not exactly, but there’s a reason that certain stories are well-trodden: Because we want to see them again and again. Meatballs is one of my favorite movies. Vintage Bill Murray from 1979. The Way, Way Back is basically the same story: Awkward boy, who nobody appreciates, comes-of-age one summer when he meets the coolest guy in the world, who inexplicably sees something great in him, and brings it out.
If you dont know who I’m talking about then sit back and get schooled. Though I suspect many of our readers here know that the King of the Monsters is Godzilla, or Gojira (pronounced “Godjeeda, the ‘j’ much like a soft ‘d’ sound. Listen closely during the scenes in which throngs of Japanese citizens are running hysterically away from the mayhem, you’ll hear it.)
Rock & roll movies are my focus, but I made an exception for The Conjuring because the only thing that rivaled rock & roll for my earliest affections was horror films. I was just as likely to be found reading Famous Monsters Of Filmland magazine as Hit Parader. And I loved the rockers who recognized a market at that particular intersection–Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, and later Alice Cooper and KISS. I was delighted to get a “two-for-one.”