Apologies

I apologize for my lack of BO predictions this weekend, but a vacation is necessary. I will be back soon with more insights on the modern movie biz. For now here is my belated review of Pineapple Express:


I was skeptical, I'll admit it. I thought this was going to be another hyped up disappointment. I had watched the preview about 100 times, and listened to Paper Planes about 100 more. I was wrong. The movie is what I'm sure pineapple express (the potent pot smoked in the movie) is, a ticket to a lot of laughs, goofy good times, and a feeling that will make you want to come back for more.

The movie centers around Seth Rogen playing Dale Denton, or really, he's just playing Seth Rogen. While the performance is as unoriginal as Will Ferrell's past few, it has yet to lose it's humor as I believe Ferrell's has. His grumpy, sarcastic loser, who in this movie smokes massive amounts of marijuana and serves sepeonas as a living, comes through with funny cracks here and there. However, I can't imagine this act can be kept up for long.

Denton, after witnessing a murder, flees with his drug dealer in order to avoid joining the deceased, and this is where the hilarity ensues. The real credit for the humor in the movie goes to James Franco as Saul Silver, the drug dealer who is happy, laid back, thoughtful, forgetful.... um, pretty much just the classic stoner. He pulls it out without deriving from Cheech, Chong, Harold, or Kumar (or his Freaks and Geeks character like much of Apatow's old school crew from the show) and that is the brilliance of his performance. I laughed so hard at most of the things he said, I missed a great deal of the other characters dialogue. Him and Seth Rogen make a pot-smoking, gun-toting team of super-stoned-heroes the likes of we haven't seen since Blunt Man and Chronic.

Similar praise can be bestowed upon Danny McBride who plays Red, Saul's "thugged out," and untrustworthy, but clutch, connect for shipments of the finest weed in the area (the title character of the movie). Mcbride never breaks, lands every line, and makes the perfect third for the Franco-Rogen duo.

While there is sloppy editing and direction, specifically the scene where Gary Cole and Rosie Perez (yes, that Rosie Perez) break out [of character] laughing, the lightheartedness of the story and characters excuse it. The movie is a candidate for second watch as many jokes are missed through laughter (also little things such as the Chinese mob speaking Korean make me think there are details to be appreciated). I would give it my "Good Movie" ranking, and a "Great Comedy", but its status as legendary (probably a far-reach) is dependent on the second go around and future quotability. It's an instant "hit" with it's target audience (for which the cops were present to prevent engagement in illegal activities) and it was a moneymaker so a sequel will be shot for sure.

Box Office Predictions 7/8

Well no Step Brothers this week (sorry Ryan), just couldn't handle the standard Will Ferrell performance. Instead I went to Pineapple Express, of which my review will appear this weekend.

I am positive that Pineapple will take the #1 spot of the week/weekend with an estimate of $42 mill for the 5 day run (the advertising was lengthy, well-placed, and the buzz is insane--the Finke disagrees), just above the Dark Knight which will be back with another $40 (no one can stop the momentum), and Traveling Pants (ughh) will take 3rd with $30 million (well, it is a sequel and girl ensembles are in right now post- Sex In The City). I was pretty accurate last week, let's see if I can make it 2 in a row.

Meanwhile if you haven't heard the news, Brad Pitt has signed on to Inglorious Bastards, the new Tarantino WWII pic. This project is picking up star power and buzz fast, I hope the hype won't flounder -- it actually sounds intriguing.

Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson

A hot July night. Rolling out of my driveway I make moves toward the GW bridge heading out to meet a friend in Downtown Manhattan. Speeding down the FDR with the East River as my neighbor I glance at the lunatics sharing the road with me. Business men coming off their jobs trading the lives of others, crazed taxi and limo drivers weaving in and out, and just those regular run-of-the-mill psychos waiting for you to cut them off just to blast you with angry horns are only some of the colorful paint drops in this canvas of a city. Why ignore them? Engage, speed, weave, curve quickly, be aggressive. I refuse to follow these crazies, I like to have the open road to the future, to what's next.

Eventually I make it downtown, where the numbered grid dissolves into a named mess of cross streets. The West Village is funny place, a strange collection of weirdos in costume, trannies in full dress, druggies, hobos, failing thriving artists, all looking for promise in a pessimist's world... good people. The place reeks of history, poor artists, and pot. It's hard to ignore the footprints of figures like Dylan and Warhol. I pull down cobblestone Prince street and as my car bumps along I try to look for a parking spot in this goddamn city which is harder than making it three blocks without running over a biproduct of the capitalist American dream.

I squeeze my car in spot that may not exist and make my way to the mulitplex. The Angelika is a fortress of indi strength. Its few theaters are filled with artsy flicks from documentaries to Asian fairy tales. Yuppies slum there in an attempt to show how "in touch" they are, and they are accompanied by the vagrant-looking film-junkies, there to prove their credibility as "true appreciators" of the art.

We, a collection of young professionals save for myself, purchase tickets and try to find some seats. The theater is a piece of shit, a run down old shadow of today's high-market multiplexes with plush stadium seating and endless sales pitches. It's simple and the perfect environment for the film we're about witness. The previews show nothing of the overbudgeted crap that hollywood's been dumping out recently, instead it sticks to arthouse presentations that only a few will ever enjoy. Eventually comes our feature presentation, a documentary of the late, great Hunter S. Thompson.

I did my best to give you a taste of the late author/journalist/miscreant's style, and to also introduce you to Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S Thompson. The documentary is the perfect way to experience the writings in the way in which they were written. The film does justice to size of the author, physically, culturally, and egotistically, but without fawning over its subject. The Doctor would have been proud to see his legacy treated as such, and by people who match him in stature (and not all of them fans). George McGovern, Pat Buchanan, Jimmy Carter, and Jimmy Buffet are just a few of the names to fill the slate of commentators. Hunter's wives and even his son Juan make appearances to discuss the man they knew intimately, and with the uniquest perspectives in the film, except for director Alex Gibney. Gibney unites the whole thing, illustrating Thompson from birth to self-inflicted death. He gets a solid boost from Johnny Depp's reading in his now famous Hunter Thompson voice (perfected in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and soon to be reprised in The Rum Diaries).

While the film runs about a half hour too long, it does still hold you until the end if you, as I am, are a fan of Thompson's life and work. It focuses mainly on his career as a journalist, his run for sheriff, and two of his famous works Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Fear and Loathing: The Campaign Trail '72. Gibney relates the campaign footage to today's events, but not so much to be overdone, or overshadowing Thompson's story. It does also provide insight to his work with the Hells Angels and Tom Wolfe comes out in his classic white suit to discuss Thompson's attendance of the mixer with the Merry Pranksters, a rather compelling segment.

The man is shown mostly through the words of his beloved artist Ralph Steadman, as the Gonzo he was: fast, loose, angry at times, violent at some, but an artist and dedicated American throughout. His love of guns, drugs, and fast cars/bikes sometimes entertains but when he carries over to alcoholism and addiction, it saddens to see the star burn out. When eventually reaching his suicide, you aren't sure whether to believe that it was a cowardly move, or a courageous gesture by the deranged outlaw. In the end, his optimism for the future of America, and his love of freedom provide scope to view the upcoming election through. In the end, Gibney leaves the audience with a question Thompson was so fond of asking: what next?

Box Office Predictions 7/31

This weekend will be interesting, that's for sure. Can Dark Knight make a third week at number 1? Can the Mummy return for one more successful sequel? Can Kevin Costner have a hit with a movie that sounds less interesting than a Tin Cup and Waterworld double feature?

Well my predictions is that the mummy will come to life with $45 million. Brenden Frasier is coming off Journey to the Center and he's been getting great press recently, plus the world is in China frenzy (Not sure if you all heard about the opening sequence directed by House of Flying Daggers helmer Yimou Zhang, but early reports is that it's going to be a high-flying extravaganze). However, this franchise is too old, and even Rachel Weisz pulled out so I think it will only make #2 at the BO. Dark Knight will remain at #1 with a take of $48 million still pulling strong past the $400 million mark. I think Swing Vote will bomb, maybe pulling in $5 million from the die-hard Costner crowd. I am not sure whether I will have a review this weekend since neither of the new releases interest me, but I have Gonzo on the way and maybe I'll give Step Brothers a try...maybe...