Movie Review: Slumdog Millionaire and Last Chance Harvey

Ok, so as not to be unfair to Benjamin Button, I have decided to review the other two movies I saw while at home over the break:



The first is Slumdog Millionaire, which, like Benjamin Button, is a leading contender for a Best Picture Oscar nomination. Unlike Benjamin Button, it is probably deserving, because it is a good movie that did not piss me off (those, of course, being the main criteria the Academy looks at).

Here is what is good about the movie:

The setup. It's basically a poor kid (Jamal) from the slums of Mumbai who makes it all the way to the final question on the Indian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Except that he only gets there because the specific questions he is asked all pertain to his life in some way. Essentially, the movie is a series of flashbacks that explain how he knows the answer to the previous question and these flashbacks put together add up to the kid's life story. Effective and interesting way to tell the story.

The setting. The movie bascially travels through the slums of Mumbai and various other places in India. The wide views of Mumbai and other places are cool looking, and I especially liked the sequence where the two brothers basically lived on the roofs of trains travelling all over India. Unlike Benjamin Button which hints at hurricane Katrina, and uses specific references ("Hey, how bout this N'Orlins weather! Am I right? Remember how we are in New Orleans right now in this movie here?!") and horrible southern accents by Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett to tell you it's in New Orleans, Slumdog Millionaire actually is set somewhere and it shows you. Also, based on this movie India is fucked up.

The story. That's pretty general I guess, but it really is just a good movie overall. It's like an epic on a smaller scale than Benjamin Button. Slumdog Millionaire is just trying to tell a story and it runs the gamut of emotions over the course of Jamal's life to that point (he is only 18), but mostly it is just entertaining and interesting. It gets to the emotions and it makes you happy and sad and such, but it doesn't try to smack you over the head with morals or themes for the most part. Benjamin Button, on the other hand, taught me about the impermanence of life and to cherish the happy moments and shit, but that was the problem. It just fucking TOLD ME THAT in scene after scene toward the middle/end parts of the movie and it just dragged on and made sure it fucking preached to me about transience and love and the transience of love. The beginning of the movie was just sort of telling a story about a weird guy who is aging backwards and it was entertaining and interesting---that is what all of Slumdog Millionaire is like.

Here is what is bad about the movie:

These are all sort of minor quibbles, because overall I thought it was a very good movie (although it's been sort of critically overhyped).

The questions: I know nothing about Indian culture obviously, but it seemed to me that Who Wants to be an Indian Millionaire is the easiest game show of all time. Does anyone know about cricket? Who has the most centuries? That seems like who has the most homeruns or something. Am I wrong? C'mon. And the last question was so retardedly easy that it took away the aspect of suspense when Jamal locked in his final answer.

Honestly, did neither of these people get any play over the course of their lives. Jamal and the girl, whose name I can't remember at the moment, were all about each other since they were like 9 years old. F'real Jamal, you couldn't pull a bit a slash when you were running scams around the Taj Mahal? Those Mahal girls give it up like whoa!

Joe Pesci. Or should I say, the Indian version of Regis Philbin, because he looked like the Indian version of Joe Pesci. Actually, he should probabaly be listed on the positive side. He was more like Goodfellas Joe Pesci than Gone Fishin' Joe Pesci, but any Joe Pesci is usually a negative. Still unclear.




Here is good things:

The premise of the movie was a bit unorthodox for a RomCom. A wedding, yes, but one where the Father of the Bride* did not seem particularly welcome and makes himself awkward immediately by constantly talking on the phone in the same way my Dad would (i.e. holding the phone across his face [i.e. putting it in his right hand and holding it to his left ear]).

The actors: Dustin Hoffman, despite his SHORTcomings (haha he's short!), seems like a good actor and so does Emma Thompson, whom you might know from those movies you've never seen.

The subplot with the mother and the Polack is kinda funny, I guess.

Here is bad:

I saw a review on Rotten Tomatoes that said something like, "at the very least this movie proves that you're never too old to do a trying-on-dresses montage." Yeah, that's pretty accurate. This is not a groundbreaking movie, ok. We are dealing with a pretty typical romantic comedy plot, spiced up by the addition of... nothing in particular.

Dustin Hoffman is 317 years old, but he looks 400 at best. Not to mention the fact that he is legally a midget in 37 out of the 50 states. It's hard to buy him as a romantic lead.

Syphilis: it's a danger when entering into any relationship. Even a fictional cinema one--this was not fully adressed.

Conclusions: Slumdog is 3.7 out of 4 stars. Harvey is 2.6, so as to be ranked above Benjamin Button. If you have to see one movie and one movie only this January, though, you should probably go rent In Bruges.








* Steve Martin can suck a big fat dick

Hey Brett! Fuck your Mom

Hey you. Yeah you, retarded hick boy. I'm talking to you. I am somewhere between drunk and hungover from tailgating right now so I may not be thinking that clearly. But there's something I want to say to you: Eat a bag of cancerous dicks.

Maybe I am not making myself clear. I want you to consume all sorts of unthinkably disgusting and harmful things so that you might have some idea what it is like to watch you one-arm gunslings to the goddamn Dolphins all day. Remember when you put on that green jersey this afternoon? It was right after the bowl of grape nuts and the massage and before you and Mangenius decided to stick your fists up the metaphorical anuses of thousands of fans and then extend your middle fingers. Yea, that jersey. Everyone else on your team was wearing the same color, and that's the color you were supposed to aim your passes at.

Listen Grizzly McAmerica'sPlayer, this Jets season was hard for me. I had already turned against you at least a year ago. I understand why you have been so popular. You had that down-home-aww-shucks-mister-I-juss-wanna-play-me-some-football thing going. You seemed like a nice enough guy and your dad died and whatever. You inspired people like Forrest Gump and Corky from that show I don't remember. Everyone thought, "Hey if this monkey-brained fucker can be good at football, maybe there's hope for us all." I get it, but I wasn't on board.

For one, Peanut had already shoved the goddamn Favre DVD down my throat, so I was set. Did I need to know about your upbringing in Kiln and how your Uncle Cletus molested you when you were nine? No. Did I make up one of those facts? No.* Not to mention the freaking media acted like you were motherfuckin Mother fuckin Teresa or some shit. I hadn't realized that you were the only football player in the history of feet and balls who LOVED football. You were a gunslinger. You played like a kid out there. You played with the passion of a million suns burning on the summer solstice. Fuck that. You were never any more special than the media made you out to be. You were like a gunslinger who occasionally misfired and shot his friends in the femoral artery. You played like a kid who was too stupid to realize that crippling interceptions were bad for your team.

So obviously, Brett, I was already sort of heading down the road of not liking you. These are not new opinions of mine, but even if I was getting sick of you I still had a soft spot I guess. I mean you were Brett Favre! And then you pulled the retirement schtick for a couple of years. Are you? Aren't you? What's going on with Brett? You basically said "Hey, ESPN et al., please stroke my cock while I hold hostage the organization that has paid me exorbitant amounts of money to sometimes successfully throw an oblong ball at massively-more-athletic black guys. And remember it is only because I LOVE THE GAME that I am so torn about whether or not to take steroids** and accept some more millions to be slobbered on all over again by you sycophantic fucks."

So I was done with you basically. I appreciated that you were a great player. A hall-of-famer if that means anything in football. You won a pretty memorable super bowl and lost a more memorable one. But that was it. The gunslinging and the all-American plays-like-a-kid Kornheiserisms were grating enough without you actually acting like a dick. And then you pulled the shit again this offseason and Ted Thompson grew a pair and said "Hey Brett! Fuck your Mom. We're going with Rodgers." Good for you Ted. I liked that, I agreed with that. I wanted you end up on the Vikings so that even Packers fans would have to root against you and grudgingly accept the fact that you were a dick. And then what did you do...

You up and got traded to the J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets. The Jets. My Jets. My football team with its mediocre history and its mild expectations. The Jets, who could basically be ignored by the media, chill out in the Giants' shadow, and hopefully make it to their biannual playoff loss. You fucker. Now tickets were twice as pricey and your jerseys were selling like hotcakes (great investment Timmy and Plunkett) and everyone was watching the Jets and picking them for the playoffs and so forth. Every story related to the NFL was about how you were doing and how Aaron Rodgers was doing filling in those titanic-sized shoes of yours. Every MNF broadcast was Tony Kornheiser talking about you, no matter how tangential or inane. It was like he was playing that game from Super Troopers where the guy had to say "Meow" but instead he had to say "Favre" and then wait to see how long the football viewing publice would turn on him. Basically, you fucked shit up for me.

Now I'm living down in DC, Brett, so I didn't get to watch many of your games. I could phase you out as the Mets collapsed, and my college career collapsed, and other shit was happening. And then you had that game against the Patriots on a Thursday night. And I checked you and the Jets out down at Continental and there was a Pats fan and I got caught up in the game and the Jets won! In overtime! We stuck it to those Boston fucks! This was going to be our year! I thought, hey maybe I can get behind this Jets team despite the presence of Favre. This could be the best team I've seen since Vinny Testaverde was throwing shotputs over the middle to Keyshawn. The very sadness that is having Testaverde and Keyshawn as your best football memories MADE me want to get beind this Jets team. And then you beat the undefeated Titans. Best team in the AFC! NY-NY Superbowl! Well that's what ESPN was saying, and although I saw that that was pretty dumb I really thought this was a hell of a team and maybe I can learn to like this Favre character after all. And then...

Look, you just fucking sucked, ok. There's no point breaking down every game or each mistake. You fucking sucked and if Dick Jauron and JP Losman hadn't already gotten their checks from Roger Goodell to keep you in the playoff hunt you would have lost five straight games to finish the year. That is fucking weak in and of itself, but when you lose to the Niners and Seahawks and Broncos (no offense Pank)...c'mon. You collapsed, and that is hard for me right now. There is a big difference between being a Pirates or a Raiders fan, for instance, and being a Mets and Jets fan. The former people know going in that their team sucks. The might make a random signing or two and glean some false hope, and then the season begins and they watch and they say "Oh yeah, it's the Pirates/Raiders/Whoever. We suck. Now I will go be a productive and useful member of society." The Mets and Jets, however, play pretty well. They do enough to stay competitive year-in year-out and keep the fans interested. And you watch them and they're playing pretty well...hey, look, they're leading the division! All they have to do is win a couple games against some crappy teams and they're in the playoffs. And then they shit the bed. They just have explosive fountainous bouts of diarrhea, and it's all over the pillowcases and the headboard and everything. And I feel like I have wasted so much time and thought and money on these fucking teams, and then they just throw on some steel-toed boots and kicks me in the nuts as a thanks for all that.

But it's worse today, Brett. And it's worse because it's your fault. You sucked and you dragged the Jets down, and Chad Pennington gets a home game against the Ravens next weekend because you were horrible. And you are not a Jet. This is not some TrueYankeeism-type nonsense I'm talking about. This is the Jets. They are the Mets. They are the second team, the overlooked team, the team that sneaks up on you and wins and you go how the fuck did they win. They are an underdog. But, Brett you are the ultimate fucking overdog. You can't sneak up on anyone because at all times you are followed by a retinue of bootlickers with cameras and microphones. You never belonged on my team and I never even liked you any way. And then you were here and you got my hopes up, and you dashed them.

YOU did that, Brett. You ruined the whole goddamn season, and you're gonna do it again next year for some similar-minded sports fan in Buffalo or Seattle or somewhere when you unretire again. You dick.

*Actually yes.

** So Roger Clemens was pretty clearly cheating. He went to the Astros and still had the heat and had a sub-2 ERA at the age of 42 or so. And people were sort of talking about this way before the Mitchell Report. But Brett Favre looks completely and utterly washed up for a couple years, comes back with the fastball, and has one of his best years ever leading the Packers to the NFC Championship at the age of 38 and I hear nothing. Good thing only baseball has a steroid problem, because if NFL players took steroids I know who I'd suspect.

Movie Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

When I'm home I go to the movies a lot with my mother and sister. Case in point, I went to see Benjamin Button on Christmas afternoon. Here is the review I wrote last night at 3 in the morning when I was drunk. And remember it's easier to be negative than positive:


I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on Christmas afternoon. I was with my mom and sister and I hadn’t seen the Cobble Hill theater that crowded since sometime back in 261 days (like maybe on the day I saw Batman & Robin for Tyler Didin’s Birthday). Anyway here are the good things about Benjamin Button:

The premise is cool. A man who gets yougner instead of older. That’s pretty original, and you can vaguely recognize Brad Pitt’s face in the little mini-oldman version of Benjamin. It looks pretty cool and I gotta give it up for that.

Cate Blanchett is pretty hot. I always thought of Cate Blanchett as Queen Elizabeth and shit. In this movie she’s a ballerina and shit, and frankly she seems like she’s a pretty attractive woman.
Julia Ormond is in this, which is pretty random. First Knight, Legends of the Fall, Benjamin Button. It’s been a while but apparently she is still alive.

The parts where Benjamin is in Murmansk or whatever. I thought the part where he was in Russia in that hotel was pretty good. Tilda Swinton is a good actress and that’s an original setting, so that was something there.

Once again, since I don’t want to be totally negative, the first hour or soo was pretty cool. Actually, all the parts where Benjamin looks old are pretty good. People sort of realize that he’s not the age that he looks, but he still looks old so it’s kinda cool. Old lady is like “Hey, stay away from my granddaughter” and then his ‘mom’ is like “You’re my little boy even if you look really old” and shit. It’s a cool concept.

Here’s what is bad about the movie:

Cate Blanchett is a slut. Yea Daisy, you act like a little slut piece and Benjamin waits for you (sort of). Sounds a lot like Jenny and Forrest Gump, which makes total sense.

The whole scene where Daisy gets injured in Paris: One little thing happens and then it effects this other thing and then this other thing happens and it plays into this series of events and these other things happen and isn’t it crazy how life is like this and all these random small events can add up to a bigger thing and this is HOW LIFE IS!!! No, there’s a movie called Amelie, and it is ALSO set in Paris and it’s actually good. You just ripped it off. Actually, this idea was explored in a movie starring Ashton Kutcher called the Butterfly Effect. If you are copying an Ashton Kutcher movie you are not adding anything to humanity.

I appreciate the fact that this is some sort of modern day fairy tale. This movie does not exist within the exact realm of reality as we know it. However, it takes place over the course of many years, basically covering WWI thru WWII and then the 50s, 60s, etc. Like Forrest Gump, only it started a few decades earlier. Luckily, our hero, Benjamin Button grew up in a 1920s New Orleans that was completely and utterly absent of racism. As we all know it was totally normal to run into black pygmies in 1920s Louisiana and then ride the streetcar with them.

Queenie. Listen, I bought this character for quite a while. And then she degenerated into “black woman stereotype mother.” “Oh Benjamin, yous lookin so good boy. I ams yo MAMA. I thinks you oughta see this Daisy girl. I is no longer a real human being.” (Again, this is my personal opinion so don’t think I am calling the filmmakers racist.)

The sequence at the end where we get the “everybody’s different but isn’t THAT what makes us truly special” montage. Some people get younger, some are artists, some dance, some swim the English channel and shit. GUESS WHAT?!! Some people make stupid ass movies: their names are David Fincher and the Gumpian writers of this nonsense. Listen, you robbed Shwashank and Pulp Fiction about 15 years ago so why are you going around writing a less good version of your old stupid story.

Personal thought: I sat against the wall in the last seat of my row in the theater. I continually smacked my head against the wall, so as not to gouge my brain out with some sort of spontaneously-invented implement. Some people, any by “some” I mean a handful of mentally challenged adults, in the theater clapped at the end of this movie. Eileen immediately turned to me and was like “WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK ARE THEY CLAPPING AT?!!” At least, that’s what the expression on her face was saying. And this was totally unsolicited.

Objectively speaking, Benjamin Button was a stupid dumb movie that was kinda likeable at parts. I give it two and a half stars out of four. A cool concept that got bogged down in retarded stupid shit that uninformed moviegoers might find original and moving.
Maybe I’m just cynical.