"What are ya, one of those health nuts or somethin'? Go fuck yaself."

My Uncle Greg has/d this theory years back. Not sure if he formulated it up himself or if it's some "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" pop culture mythos, but he's the one who'd tell me it, so it's his in my book. Right, Stuntman Mike?

He'd say, knowing that we both share(d) an affinity for curvish Latina beauties, "No matter what time of day, weekend or weekday...if you turn on the Spanish television channel, you'll see a sexy lady within ten seconds." To this day, this theory has proven legit.

In that same spirit, I've devised my own: "At any time of any given day, you can find The Departed on a cable movie network. You just have to keep looking." It's always on, two or three times every day, like clockwork, even more so than cable's two current staples, Remember the Titans or The Last Dragon.

I'm watching it at this very moment, in fact. No complaints, though. It may go down in history as the most instantly watchable, can't-change-the-channel-once-you-come-across-it movies ever. At least 'tis the case for me. Keeps getting better, every single time I see it, to paraphrase Beetlejuice.

Said theory aside, how fuckin' sexy is Vera Farmiga in it? I've seen her in other films (I stand by the feeling that Joshua is criminally underrated), and she's no slouch on the eyes, but never has she appeared so sensual and take-me-now to the senses as she does in The Departed. That quick glimpse of her in the skivvies, on the bed, with lucky Leo = a body to cry for. And then there's faux Boston accent. All I'd need to hear is "Paakk ya carrr in me, baaby," and it'd be On like Power.



My caaar is staatted, baby.

Netflix Fix --- Hard Eight

Finally, finally watched this, so now I can call myself a Paul Thomas Anderson fanboy without hesitation or a lack of fulfillment. His 1996 debut feature, and a clear sign of the greatness to come. Slow-building, all about the deeply-interesting "Sydney," played by the superior veteran Philip Baker Hall.

What makes Sydney, an aged gambler marauding about Reno, Nevada, tick and tock? Why is he so unconditionally nice and fatherly to the drifter, "John," John C. Reilly's character? Where does all of Syd's money come from? There seems to be a darker subtext to his world, but is it just a facade?

Being a P.T. Anderson creation, nothing unfolds as expected, but all unfolds in compelling and entertaining stylee. There's Samuel L. Jackson reminding you of how fine an actor he really is, when not appearing in the LCD dreck he just can't say "No" to. You have Gwyneth Paltrow looking sexier than ever, and giving her hooker a see-saw of humanity and unconscious stupidity. And then, just for an added bonus of dope, there's Philip Seymour Hoffman sporting a sweet mullet, spewing profanities in a one-scene bit of craps trash-talking. Good stuff.

Written and directed by Anderson, when he was only like 26 years old (same age as I....jesus, talk about a kick in the ass), Hard Eight is the kind of mature noir-ish attention-holder where every scene and line of dialogue is worth a damn, and fully thought out. Nothing feels like filler, or unnecessary macguffin.


Anderson.

There Will Be Blood is still Anderson's Mona Lisa; Magnolia the Lisa's next-in-line, and Boogie Nights resting comfortably in third. Hard Eight is now atop Punch-Drunk Love. And almighty willin', we'll have a new P.T. project sooner than later. Dude takes way too long between efforts, if you ask me. But at least the wait(s) is/are never in vain.

Now I just need to get my hands on his Coffee & Cigarettes short, and then the circle will be complete.

"Where are you, you bitch?!"

"And I wonder, if you know/ What it means, what it means"

What does it mean, exactly? To be so enthralled, hypnotized, captivated by something so appalling and brutal? To write it off as simply "He's a fan of horror, and scary movies" seems a bit unfair, even trivial. Do "fans" replay scenes a good five or six times, and feel as equally mesmerized as the first viewing, which happened eight months ago? Or is it something a bit deeper, a bit more primal?

Or am I just asking pretentious, stupid questions about something that boils down to little more than a perverse fascination with artfully, masterfully executed scenes of mayhem?

Who knows, really. But all I do know is that I've just watched the bitch is ready to fight back sequence from Inside, a French film I've mentioned so many times here that you'd think speakmyclout.blogspot.com was a promotional engine or fan site for the shit. The entire movie is gold, brilliance on screen. The more I re-watch, the more I realize that it's easily the best horror film to made, in any country, in about six, seven years. I'll fight such a statement, viciously.



But for reasons largely unknown, I frequently find myself putting the DVD in, and skipping to this particular moment, when Sarah, our reluctant-heroine-with-little-good-fortune, has just been smashed across the face with a toaster, causing her already-battered, pregnant, and blood-drenched body to now fail to generate a breath. She's just torched the face the of Woman in Black, her assailant and hell-dealer, and now Sarah is struggling to move air throughout her lungs. So, like the resourceful SOB that she is, she pokes a hole in her throat with a huge threading needle, and sucks in some oxygen as blood pours from the neck like a hose. Some duct-tape is applied, covering the entry-wound, and now she's ready to bring the pain, back. She puts together a makeshift spear with a butcher knife attached the end of a broomstick, and she's fuckin' focused, man.

The second the spear is compact and set for destruction, the steadily-escalating soundtrack (a blend of 808 heartbeats and frantic electronica, like Daft Punk performing live in Hades) reaches a crescendo of heart-pumping, adrenaline-overdriving euphoria, and this is where my attention always climaxes in a fit of wonder. The music, the scene, the acting, the suspense and dread that's been clinging to a tightrope for over an hour now. All leads me into cinematic nirvana.

And I now wonder what's wrong with me, why I can't get enough of quite possibly one of the most raw, visceral, disturbing bits of movie-magic in recent years.

All I know is, if I can ever write a film with a scene even a quarter as insanely great, I'll be one happy sicko.

"Through the lights, cameras, and action, glamour, glitters and gold...."

One of the top 5 beats ever (IMO) + two of my present-day favorite MCs (plus Guilty Simpson) = good shit, man. Good shit.

Still holds not even half a candle to the original (really, though, if you combined Royce and Elzhi into one Lyrical Machine, it'd still pale in comparison to Nas' verse), but just to hear some fresh voices over this masterpiece of sparse macabre is worth noticing.

Royce Da 5'9, Guilty Simpson, Elzhi "Verbal Intercourse (Detroit Remix)"


***Bonus: I found this on Youtube....top three sequences of 2008, movie wise; I actually went back to the theater the next afternoon, solo, after seeing this opening night, just to bask in this part again (didn't hurt that the film as a whole is a triumph of minimalism); whoever had the notion to use a skipping-record as this scene's score is a damn scholar and gentleman:

My Arrested Quality-TV Development, Fixed

I'm ashamed, but acceptance is half the battle, right? Talk about being late to the party. More like, bumrushing in while the cleaning crew is stacking chairs and attacking the vomit and garbage-on-floor with Swiffers.



The G4 channel (I heart Olivia Munn, by the way....that needed to be said, first and foremost) is in the midst of an Arrested Development marathon, and I'm mad at revealing this, but this is the first time I've actually watched the show. Pathetic, I know, I know. I read every glowing, ecstatic review; watched it win award after award; felt the electricity charging through every "possible Arrested Development movie" rumor and news bit scarfed down by the fanboys and pop culture heavies. But for no discernable reason, I never cracked down and watched it on the tube before it was cancelled, nor rented the season DVDs to play Heinz catch-up.

But man, is the shot great. I've laughed like The Riddler all afternoon, been entertained to no end. And now I understand. I sympathize with the cultists who've prayed for a movie-of-closure, or even some fresh episodes.



The cast is pitch-perfect: Jason Bateman as the level-headed nucleus of the Bluth family, a well-off, money-holding brood full of more dysfunction than The Simpsons and the Griffins combined; Portia De Rossi, who's much sexier than I ever gave her credit for, as the "looks first/morals second" sister, and aunt of Bateman's/Michael Bluth's son 'George Michael' (played by the young champ of understated awkwardness, Michael Cera) who's in love with his cutie of a cousin. Then there's Will Arnett, Jeffrey Tambor. And others, all great, all essential.


De Rossi....well done, Ellen Degeneres. Well done.

The writing is wintery-nipple sharp, the naturalistic acting feels like brilliant improv. You have Ron Howard producing, and even narrating every episode. It's quirky, intelligent, charming, off-putting, and downright funny. Sucks that I have to head to my aunt's, and that my parents don't have DVR at their house. Means I'll be missing the majority of the marathon. Should I just buy the season DVDs? Or toss them all into the Netflix murderer's row?

I'm preaching to an already-huge choir of loyalists here, but I don't actually know many who swear by Arrested Development, so maybe this'll inspire some to seek the show out for themselves. If you feel like you share th4 same kind of humor-loving as I (i.e., Family Guy, The Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm, The Life & Times of Tim, etc), then Arrested Development is foolproof.

***Oh, and of course....Happy Turkey Day to whoever reads this. May it overflow with turkey-induced food comas, not-so-water-y cranberry sauce, warm corn muffins, bonding time with your family, and minimal familial dysfunction.

And, for those who like leaving things on a glorious, smile-ringing note, here's a pic of aforementioned Olivia Munn, simply because it puts a smile on my mug every time I glance its way. Could, and should, do the same for others. Peep:


M.B. Dreamgirl-worthy, much?

Milk, post paid-for-ticket reactions

Have to hit the road, so this'll be a short one. But I couldn't not comment on the damn-great flick just watched, Milk.

The life and rise of Harvey Milk, our country's first-ever gay man to hold an elected position in the United States government, specifically California in his case. Sean Penn's performance is tremendous, truthfully; totally becoming the man, to where he's hardly recognizable as the stone-faced, humorless actor/activist we expect to tremble in the presence of. Here, we feel warm around him, uplifted, even inspired. I know this all sounds like cliche praise, but it's all true, I tell you.

Damned if I didn't leave the theater feeling both invigorated, and, honestly, angered about shit like the recent Proposition 8. How any human can be denied basic rights and happiness is really beyond me, and in this film you see that our country really hasn't come far, at all. If anything, we've backtracked. Degenerated. Devolved.



As of now, Penn is my personal choice for Best Actor in next year's Oscars. If he doesn't get a nomination, there'll be hell to pay. Granted, I haven't seen Leo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, or Mickey Rourke yet (though, I'll be seeing the "resurrection of Mickey Rourke" this upcoming Tuesday morning...happy happy, joy joy). Til I do, though, it's Penn, all the way. Similar to the excitement I felt last year over Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood. It's funny, how seeing Penn in Milk feels like a revelation, in ways, despite the fact that the man has always proven himself to be a beast of an actor. But in projects like Mystic River, for instance, the last Penn job I really adored, he seemed to be playing an extension of the public persona I'd grown familiar with; here, though, it's like watching a whole new man. One who actually smiles, and laughs, and is undeniably pleasant. Go figure.

Also worth noting, the rising greatness of Josh Brolin, who plays a rival of Milk's, the man who eventually shoots him dead. Brolin nails the inner conflict, the tug-of-war that must've went on within Dan White, his "character's" name. He was, essentially, a decent man, but one who lost it all thanks to the indirect, benign actions of Milk, and who retaliates as an act of desperation.



Gus Van Sant, the director, scores yet again. I'll have to watch this one a couple more times before allowing it to usurp Elephant, which stands as my personal favorite Van Sant film, and one that never ceases to mesmerize, freeze, and disturb with each viewing.

Milk is a great movie, one I can't recommend enough. James Franco, who's having a hell of a year, does a complete yet equally great 180-degree turn from Pineapple Express here, feels like a secret weapon here---no easy feat, considering how much Penn bodies the festivities with his work.

Gotta make moves now. But yeah....Milk is top quality. I'm satisfied, motivated, and impressed, which, really, is all I could ever ask for, anyway.

"I've come here to chew bubble gum and kick ass....and I'm all out of bubblegum."

Must say, I can't disagree much with these "8 Reasons Why They Live is Cinema's Greatest Achievement"....clearly an exaggeration, but the movie does fuckin' rule. It's one my dad and I equally love, and is indeed full of quotable gem after gem.

"Your face looks like it fell in cheese-dip back in 1957!" Take that, old bitch.

Check out the argument here:

Topless Robot's worthy praise toward a forgotten John Carpenter wonder....

**Note: Been listening to Keri Hilson's "Return the Favor" on repeat since posting that Pro-Hilson entry moments ago. Slight retraction, I kinda love the song, all the sudden. Yeah, I'm a Keri Hilson stan, it's sad but true, and now officially clear....

Showing some love to Keri Hilson, because somebody has to....

Keri Hilson, I feel for you.



I really do. The new female T-Pain (except she can actually carry a note without mechanical assistance), she's been thrown on an endless flow of rap-song hooks in attempts to make her that "new shit." Position the naturally-fine Atlanta product as a Ne-Yo of sorts---a talented, experienced songwriter who's ready for her own star to cast. Nas' "Hero"; Kardinal Offishal's "Numba 1" (she replaced Rihanna on this one, even, for what I imagine was practicality....Rihanna's too busy taking over the world these days to show up for a Kardinal video shoot). There's even Chris Brown's "Superhuman," and video-chick work in the "Miss Independent" and "Love In This Club" videos.

She's everywhere, and anywhere. Three singles deep into her own album, she should be celebrating. Toasting. Patting the backs of Polow and Timbaland. But there's just one problem: nobody seems to give even one shit about any of her own singles. You recall "Energy," my favorite single of her's thus far? How about this Timbaland-produced one "Return the Favor," a clear yet inferior shot of duplicating the "Way I Are" heat? Perhaps you've heard "Turnin' Me On," but I'm willing to wager that this one registers with you merely for Lil Wayne's presence. Dude has it like that, like it or not.

Look....I really like Ms. Hilson. Think she's genuinely talented, seems rather pleasant and charming. And I'm on the cusp of saying that she's usurped Amerie atop my R&B Chick Throne. Meaning, a singer I'd love to wife up, not strictly hit and run. Yeah, the short hair bob cut she's sported as of late can go, allowing her slightly longer, flailing mop seen in that heartstopping (halted mine, at least) "Energy" vid. And, really, I've been rooting for her since that old Xzibit "Mean Muggin'" track/clip. That's when she first caught my eye, holding both the pupil and my loins firmly in grip ever since.


Resisting any and all "knockout" puns here, I swear. You should be proud.

Part of me wonders, "How can somebody with actual talent struggle so much to find an audience? See an album release date?" Then, I realize that she's under the Jimmy Iovine umbrella, and all is clear. I can't knock the dude Iovine, either; he knows how to make money, and can see that the Hilson demand is ringing softer than VH1 Soul. In A Perfect World..., Hilson's probably-never-dropping album, is resting somewhere in Interscope oblivion alongside Nicole Scherzinger's solo and Eve's latest. Maybe Iovine has a thing for Sexy Women in Release-Locked Cages. Who knew he was a grindhouse head?


A Scherzinger/Barone/Hilson sandwich, anyone? I'll take two to go.

And admittedly, this being the biggest of issues, not one of these Hilson radio-shots has been all that astonishing. All are forgettable, especially "Return the Favor," one of Timbaland's most vapid beats in recent memory. Why can't she pen something that'll send the masses into a frenzy? I refuse to believe that Beyonce is the only under-30 diva worth caring about, seriously. Keyshia Cole is up there, true, but she's a different beast, a less-glam, more meat and bones artistry, as far as I'm concerned.

It's a sign of the times, unfortnately.....if Hilson had come out, say, three, four years ago, she'd be winning. Albums hit shelves at lava rates, and just the strength of her Timbaland backing alone would've warranted a street date, one actually met on time. No platinum sales or anything, but successful enough. In 2008 and beyond, though, compact discs sell like cancer raffles, and labels are a bit more cautious as a result. Why waste the dollars needed to put In A Perfect World... in stores when there's a new Eminem album on the horizon? Let's just wait and put extra bucks into Shady. Shit, Interscope even pushed back a new 50 Cent album, due to lackluster requests. Now that's a red flag if ever there was one. If I'm Keri Hilson, I hear the news about 50's album delays and cringe, thinking, "Fuck, time to just tour and forget about my album. That shit's being pushed to Nevuary 34th."

Sucks. I'm not a fan of many new artists these days, but I am one of Keri Hilson. Who knows, maybe I'd even buy her album if it ever comes out? Making it the first CD I've purchased in about two years, give or take two years. The bottom line, I'm contemplating as I type this: I have a thing for women in distress, beautiful girls held captive, yearning for rescue. Explains why I always preferred Wonder Woman when she was losing the fight, or tied up in a cell. Does this have some sort of psychological resonance that I should investigate?

Saturday the 14th!!!

I was just interviewing a pretty-big-deal director, and he mentioned an old forgotten gem that, as soon as he said its name, instantly shot said filmmaker into my Upper Echelon of Respect.

I used to watch this shit repeatedly as a tike. On shoddy VHS, that gramps dubbed. If this exists on DVD, it's my new Crystal Skull.



I'd be shocked as shit if anybody else recalls this one. The Monster Squad is one thing, but this is a whole other, less-celebrated treasure.

The Children....the next must-see that I won't see for a long-ass time

Early word, courtesy of every damn horror site I frequent, is that will be the horror flick to top next year. From out in the UK.

Plot: Based on a story by Paul Andrew Williams, acclaimed director Tom Shankland's new film truly brings horror home. New Years Eve, and what should be a relaxing vacation for two families coming together to celebrate the holidays, ends up as a desperate fight for survival, as one by one the children mysteriously fall ill and turn against their parents with horrifying consequences.
[first read on Shocktilyoudrop.com]

Seems rather trite on the surface, but word is that this one is creepy and raw-dog to "holy shit" levels. Works for me.





I'll be watching this one closer than my drunken, dancing self typically is upon a lady with nice curves and sweet hip-shaking moves.

Hell, I'd drop a good 25% gratuity for this......

Monkeys waiting tables.

That is all. Take it away, CNN.....

Click-On Now; The New Essentials Playlist, 11/24/08

To conserve energy and the usual onslaught of quick posts, I'll be doing this from time to time. Lassoing in some of the more-notable ish of the day. Here goes, round one:

Empire's "100 Greatest Movie Characters"
Heath Ledger's Joker at number three? Already? Really? Tyler Durden at number one, though, never would've claimed so myself, but can't say I'm mad.

Will Smith clarifies that Oldboy remake nightmare....it's based on the original manga, not movie **slight sigh of relief**
Though, I still can't see this being that great. I'm happy its not a direct Oldboy-movie-remake, but still. Cynical, sure, but manga seems to be rather violent/bleak in its own right (I've never read it), and Big Willie Style is about as far from that as humanly possible. Seven Pounds seems a bit serious, granted, but not Oldboy serious. Let's just be honest here.


Adventureland trailer, looks promising
Superbad director's next, co-stars the great Kristen Wiig and also-pretty-cool Ryan Reynolds. Oh, and the awesome Bill Hader, and Twilight's Kristen Stewart, who I have a no-longer-hush crush on.....I didn't feel like posting another movie trailer today, so this'll have to do, pig. This'll have to do.

Film Drunk ....no particular story, it's just a damn funny movie news site
Simple as that.

----
Youtube streaming links, rather than clutter this page with clip-blocks....making people work, I know. (Sh)It happens.

The Dream "Rockin' That Thang"

The Dream "Right Side of Your Brain"

The Dream is modern-day R&B tops, next to Ne-Yo. True story.

Ludacris "M.V.P."

Lady Gaga "Poker Face"
Yes, I do. Deal with it.

Evidence with Elzhi, Aloe Blacc "To Be Determined"

Apathy and Celph Titled "(This Shit Goes) On"

Kid Cudi "Day and Nite"

Jean Grae "Away With Me"

At this point, the Blizzard Man might as well be real....

This is actually pretty funny, I must admit....and believable? Can't put anything past hip-hop today:

Perhaps the thing I've anticipated most all year.....

(Hopefully) Seeing this next week, if all goes well. I'm intrigued, confused, skeptical, excited, and anxious, all at once. I have endless faith in David Fincher, same goes for Mr. Jolie.

2 hours and 46 minutes, not even that intimidating in this case. Let's do the damn thing.

New international trailer:

Black Dynamite, proving me wrong....

I interviewed the dude Michael Jai White for The Dark Knight (he played Gamble....fella who's minion suffered the now-infamous "magic pencil trick"), and he seemed pretty jazzed about a passion project he was ready to start promoting, a throwback to good ol' Blaxploitation cinema from the '70s, called Black Dynamite. Sounded cool and all, but shamefully, I pretty much wrote it off as nothing more than a goofy straight-to-DVD romp, at best. Some shit that BET's on-air movie programming drones would laugh off and discard, at worst.

As I type this, however, I'm stil scraping bits of piece off my face....Not only has this authentic-as-hell looking jewel just been accepted into January's Sundance Film Festival, but it even has a fuckin' awesome red-band (R-rated) trailer to boot. Just watch this, it's the tits, man:



You catch Arsenio Hall in there? Bubba Gump, as well? How about the glorious Salli Richardson? Good to see Bokeem Woodbine back in action, too.

I hereby offer my apologies for trivializing this shit initially. Consider yours truly officially on board.

***Has me thinking, with butterflies in flight above my skull, of Coffy....aka, the film that cemented Pam Grier's status as a "Matt Barone's All-Time Fantasy Superstar" hall-of-famer.



Is it strange that I thought she was sexiest when drugged up and held captive by Sid Haig and the other henchmen? Was afraid so.

You thought I was bad now, huh? Just wait 'til I finish this.....

The Netflix queue is about to inflate, dramatically; Barnes & Noble will soon be ransacked, and my horror know-about will mature, twenty-fold.

All thanks to this, my current fixation, attenton-holder:



Highlight so far, and I've only begun to scratch the pavement: Eli Roth's ten greatest genital mutilation scenes in horror film history. Truly compelling stuff, I swear. Just in his list alone, I've learned about six films I'd previously never even heard of, but now must see.

Coolest book ever assembled? It's in the running, at least....

Stuntman Mike's crowning achievement, right here....

4am. Just got back from a night on the town, and some extremely-late night food to boot. Turned on the tube and came across this, and it instantly transported me back to March 2007, when I saw this movie (the whole 3-and-a-half hours, no filter) five times in theater. Truly a momentous event in my life, this flick was (is). For all 97% of y'all who didn't see Grindhouse in the cinema, you know you done fucked up, right?

But anyway.....just have to say, about this whole insane sequence right here....seriously, does it get any fuckin' cooler than this? I highly doubt it. Tarantino is a damn genius for this scene, alone....



Perfection.