preview rambling

I just recently saw Ratatouille in theaters (as everyone should be doing!), and had the exquisite pleasure of sitting through some previews. By "exquisite pleasure" I, of course, I mean "had my eyes whisked by a thousand needles". I don't particularly remember the specific order, so, orderless, here the films that will collectively usher the downfall of cinema:

Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium is a film about Dustin Hoffman (Mr. Magrumium) and his most fantastical toy store. Or so the trailer is trying to convince me. The only fantastical thing I can see so far is how any of these characters are able to live when the cinematographer keeps cutting the actors' foreheads off. Maybe that's what it'll take for anyone to enjoy this film - having their brains removed by a careless cameraman. And maybe that's what it took to get Dustin Hoffman and Jason Bateman (the stiff-upper-lip-doesn't-believe-in-magic-prick-accountant) to star in this magical mystery [trite] store story.

(As for Natalie Portman? She's been dredging the bottom of my hate-phrases barrel ever since starring in Star Wars. She just opened herself to every crappy film possibility after that, and, in all fairness, her career should be wrecked. If Lucas' Howard the Duck should ruin Lea Thompson (don't worry, I still love you), Portman should receive no forgiveness for starring in not just one but THREE George Lucas films.)

Maybe I'm judging too soon; I'll be the first to say it. Previews are always nearly god awful (unless there's a genuine creative force behind making them), and there is still chance the film could be okay, what with being written and directed by Zach Helm, who was behind Stranger Than Fiction. I'm thinking maybe Jason Bateman is actually the evil Nazi, Hasenpfeffer, who returned to America to retrieve some missing diamonds that Mr. Magnesium may or may not know the whereabouts to. The torture scene involving Hungry, Hungry Hippos and a Lite Brite will leave audiences disturbed and frightened to the end of their wits.

"Is it safe?" Not this film, no, probably not.


Sequels are mad scary. I'm not talking about specifics films, I'm talking about the very concept of the sequel. There are a lot of bad movies lurking out there, and any of them - and I mean ANY - could easily resurface in movie theaters, uglier and more frightening than ever. You know the scenario: just when the heroes think they killed the monster, it comes back.

That said, would you believe they're making a follow up to Daddy Day Care? Yeah, now it's a Daddy Day Camp, joining the great list of kid camp movies: Meatballs, Bushwacked, Camp Nowhere, and The Blair Witch Project (if only). You know, never mind they couldn't get the original actors to reportray their roles - apparently Eddie Murphy and Jeff Garlin have some sense (um, never mind Pluto Nash, of course). So the producers got another black and white duo to fill their shoes - Jeff Garlin and... Cuba Gooding Jr.? I'm trying to figure out who is more depressed: me seeing Cuba in another god-awful film, or Cuba, himself, because something must be leading him to sell his soul time and time again. Cuba, just because the film is labeled as a "comedy", that is no guarantee it'll make you any happier.

So, all the kids have grown up since the last film, but no worries, all kids are pretty much the same. Let's see who we've got on the range...
So, in this gang of merry misfit youths, we've got the sick, queasy, pale, 4-eyed, future-of-DnD boy. His thing? He vomits a lot, AND on the camp counselors (brilliant!). Then we have the overly intellectual, lawyer-type girl who won't shut her yapper. That's funny, I guess, but not nearly as funny as a swift backhand. And finally, there's "Mullet"... the kid with the mullet. He pretends to be really cool and suave, but we all know he's secretly gay. This film is more than a comedy, it's an emotional journey, dammit.
Then there are some other underdeveloped kids. They'll blend nicely in the background, no one will notice them.

I've seen this trailer a million times already. It's a story zany antics, getting along, family, and bla bla bla. Things crash, things explode, kids throw around edgy catch phrases, adults look shocked, and oh! punch in the crotch! Take that authority figure!
That's just wrong, people. Crotch hits are never funny because they're always in the wrong bad films. I would have loved to have seen Mr. Magromitt served a firm right jab in his own magical trunk. Now THAT would have been funny! (Excuse me while I laugh uncontrollably at the phrase "magical trunk" as a substitute for...)

Now I already know I'm not wrong on this film and how it'll reek. That doesn't mean I can't dream (and dream big). I have lovely visions of crazed individuals with chainsaws knocking off the kids one by one. Or maybe they camp right on an ancient Indian burial ground and the road kill squirrel the kids bury comes back to life and kills off the children one by one. ... Maybe I just want lots of death. Aren't these films supposed to make me feel good?

The only condolence I can take is that these people have to watch their own movie during the premiere. I hope the experience is excruciating.. and I hope their popcorn is stale.


Another frightening concept is the franchise-resurrected-from-the-dead turned into a movie. It's like having a very horny and single grandfather. He's so desperate for any sort of loving, he'll approach anyone and do anything. That's all fine and good, as long as he's minding his own business, but then Bam! you bump into him at a bar doing something downright nefarious with the fattest chick in the joint. Right there your childhood is ruined, you become disillusioned, and realized that maybe you shouldn't have donated your rare blood type after he had that nasty slip in the tub that fractured his skull. Maybe that was his time to go.

Underdog, however, is like the grandpa I never liked to begin with. He's more like the step-grandpa, who I periodically wished had never been born. The show Underdog I thought was uninspired, poorly animated drivel (thank you, modernists), and now it's back to irk me even more. This CGI bloated money-stealer (if you're a parent with young kids, I am very deeply sorry for you) is so annoyingly aggravating (based on trailer, of course) with its only-20%-related-to-the-original premise I'm about ready to upchuck on the carpet, had the cat not beaten me to it.

People who make movies with talking animals (exception: Babe) need to have their knee caps stolen. Okay, maybe it's just me, but I see it as a forced measure to get kids to get to theaters. Never mind original story, good directing, clever jokes, or anything that makes a film decent - that can all be bypassed with cute [talking] animals. But let me not be entirely pessimistic. Those of you who are dragged to this film will be enthralled by the clever dialogue, packed to the brim with fart related gags, I'm sure.

(Irksome point #2: okay, so they revived a franchise. But did they have to pervert it? Updating a premise does not immediately mean fill with sex, poop, and dumb gags. Keep it true!)

There were no crotch-punches in this film,... maybe there should be. I'd like to see that dog get what's coming to him, if only he wasn't mostly CGI, and probably neutered at that. So I'd like to send a kick in the crotch to Frederik Du Chau's way, because not only did he direct this film, he also directed Racing Stripes and Quest for Camelot.


Speaking of cute animals...

Arctic Tale hurries on the heels of March of the Penguins in attempt to catch the trendy cute-animal-documentary wave before global warming dehydrates all the oceans (as this film would have you believe). A dual-story of a walrus and her calf, and a polar bear and her cubs, the film touts itself as being made by the same people who did March of the Penguins. As further proof it'll be good, the movie-guy announcer used a lot of the same adjectives critics used to describe MotP.

Will it be up to snuff? Well, they couldn't get Morgan Freeman to do voice over work, so they got the next best thing: Queen Latifah. Certainly, if we're stupid enough to buy tickets to this film, we're probably not smart enough to distinguish black people apart. (Or maybe you're just a bunch of racists, aren't you?) Forget Freeman's knock-out voice and graceful narration style, Latifah's got AT-IT-TUDE, foo'.
Let's not stop there either, let's cram some political ideology in the mix. At every point you see these animals struggling in the wild, guess what? it's your fault for driving your car so much. YOU'RE killing these animals. Queen Latifa told me so.
Oh! wait wait! And and and - get this - instead of the subtlety and nuance of MotP in which all expressions, moods, and tones are conveyed through camera work and the animals' natural behavior, we're adding fart humor!... and maybe some voice over narration for the animals (Neil has yet to confirm this!).

It's enough to make me buy an SUV, spend my fortune on burning gasoline, and just wait for the rest of these Arctic creatures to die off so I won't have to see another of these previews. It's enough to make me move to China, so every time I have to see a banal talking dog preview I can step outside to the market and order honey roasted dog on a stick. And it's enough to make me push this far, far from my mind, and instead occupy it with pleasant, happier things (kickline frogs, for example). That means I should probably end this post.


At least Ratatouille was amazing.

-Heir to the Throne-