Sunday, September 30, 2012

The Master - September 29, 2012


Welcome to Baking 101.
Today, we will be making cake.

Everyone likes cake.
It's great.

It has so many ingredients that make it taste wonderful.
But, that cake is only edible when all those ingredients are measured in careful amounts, mixed together properly, and baked at just the right temperature for the proper amount of time.

If I took you to my kitchen and said, "You are about to eat one of the best cakes you will ever taste," you would rightfully expect to be treated to something that was carefully made to exacting standards.

Now, if I just poured those ingredients into a bowl without care for the proper measurements and handed you the uncooked ingredients and said, "Try this. It's the best cake you will ever eat." You probably wouldn't eat the raw mess I just handed you.

After all, you aren't rushing a fraternity/sorority.

This is the problem with The Master.

It has all of the ingredients to be a great film, but it seems a little half-baked.

To truly understand a film like The Master, you are probably going to have to spend some time educating yourself in the school of enigmatic filmmaking. There will be positive reviews of this film that use words like "elusive," "difficult" and "high-minded." After seeing the film, I think it is safer to use words like "confusing," "intentionally vague" and "incoherent."

Truly, The Master succeeds on many levels. The acting is wonderful, the film is beautiful to watch, and the score is hypnotic. Joaquin Phoenix and Phillip Seymour Hoffman give performances that are sure to win them some hardware during award season. In fact, Joaquin Phoenix's performance as Freddie Quell is one of the finest acting performances I have seen in years. Quell is the troubled Navy veteran who has a very difficult time readjusting to civilian life at the end of World War II. He spends some time as a department store photographer and as a worker on a cabbage farm. In both instances, Quell is undone by his animalistic sexual desires, his feral temper and his dependency on the almost lethal alcoholic concoctions he creates using whatever cleaning supplies are readily available. Phoenix's performance is astonishing. In fact, there are several moments that are so compelling and real, you almost feel as if you are watching the Joaquin Phoenix who slowly lost his mind in the film I'm Still Here.

Unfortunately, we never get enough insight into what drives Quell's self-destructive behavior to make him sympathetic to the audience. Because of this, Quell's character feels underwritten. You would like to feel sympathy for him, but you are only offered momentary glimpses into the soul of man who might be beyond salvation.

Enter Lancaster Dodd.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman's performance as Dodd is powerful and nuanced. In fact, it provides the perfect counter-balance to Phoenix's rendering of Quell. As Dodd, Hoffman's self-destruction is an inward motion. On the surface, he is calm and manipulative. He is doing his very best to keep all the plates in motion as he defends himself against skeptics. This is a stark contrast to Quell's inability to control himself in any social situation. In fact, the only real insight we get into either of these men is when Dodd's slick veneer vanishes to reveal his temper, and Quell's temper calms to reveal a troubled soul searching for inner-peace. Even their physical appearances are inversions of each other.

Quell is dark-haired and so thin he appears to be concave. His face is twisted into a nervous sneer that almost makes his speech sound irritated and labored. Hoffman is fair-haired and well-fed. As Dodd, his eerie calm is really a mask for a man who is "...making it up as he goes along."

They are truly opposite sides of the same coin.

Dodd's ruse is so elaborate that he is never living an honest moment. His attempt to control his universe and the people around him is all-encompassing and clearly exhausting. In turn, Quell's sickness is all-encompassing and exhaustive enough to keep him from creating such elaborate deceptions. In fact, Quell appears to be the only person who spends his waking hours as a truly honest man. There is no pretense about him. This is the brilliance of the two performances.

It would be wrong to overlook the performance of Amy Adams. As Dodd's wife, she is a study in steely resolve as a woman who stands by her man as he attempts to shout down his detractors. But, there is too much mention of her performance as being award-worthy. I am here to tell you...it's a nice performance. That's where it ends.

I have a policy.

Whenever I review something I don't like, I try not to waste too many words on it. After all, how long should it take you tell someone you don't like something?
After a few hundred words, you are basically just in love with reading your own writing.

There will be many reviewers that try to tell you that The Master is a complex study about one man's search for a family. You will then be left to ponder the meaning of the film's title. Who is "the master?" Is the film about Scientology? Is there some homoerotic attraction between Dodd and Quell? What attracts Dodd to Quell?

Like I said, too many passages that go nowhere.

Somewhere in here...is a movie that tries to act as a meditation on the difficulty of finding purpose and identity in post-war America. To be fair, PT Anderson has made an ambitious film that attempts to address weighty issues regarding the sacrifices people make for their country, and the difficulty of searching for meaning in a family structure. As it turns out, people will do anything to avoid being lonely. They will even allow a self-styled blowhard to use a parlor-trick to make them feel like they belong to a group that gives their shallow lives a measure of significance.

However, the viewer has to reach too far and try too hard to reach these conclusions.
In the midst of all that, too many questions about what is actually happening in the film are left unanswered.

Ultimately, that is the film's fatal flaw.

It isn't as if Anderson doesn't know better. After all, films like Magnolia, Boogie Nights, Punch Drunk Love, and There Will Be Blood establish Anderson as a director who colors outside the lines while making ambitious films about challenging subject matter.

Like Terence Malick's The Tree of Life, The Master is a series of brilliant passages that ultimately goes nowhere. It is beautifully filmed and wonderfully acted, but the viewer is left to try and sort it all out as the credits roll. This feels like a cop-out. If Anderson is not willing to own that the film is actually about L. Ron Hubbard, than he must assume the resonsibility of a story-teller. If you are telling a story, you have some duty to provide your audience with something that amounts to a linear, coherent narrative that establishes a conflict and resolves it...in some measure...in the film's falling action/resolution. Anderson just drops this overwrought, underdeveloped work in our laps and challenges the audience to make some sense of it.

If that's the way you want to play it...fine.
Two can play at that game.
Somewhere...there is a great film in this muddled mess. I just couldn't find it.

I have a strange craving for some cake.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

The Dark Knight Rises - July 20, 2012


In the days and months ahead, people will discuss the ending of "The Dark Knight Rises" and agree to disagree about whether or not the audience got the ending it wanted versus the ending that best served the story set in motion by Christopher Nolan's "Batman Begins."

It was the beginning of a trilogy that reached a creative zenith with the 2008 blockbuster "The Dark Knight."

With that film, Christopher Nolan gave audiences one of the most realistically rendered comic-book heroes in recent memory. Christian Bale's muscular performance as Batman was perfectly balanced by his sad-eyed, world-weary reading of millionaire recluse Bruce Wayne. That says nothing for the powerhouse portrayal of the late Heath Ledger in his legendary performance as "The Joker." When I saw that film, I wondered how director Christopher Nolan would ever top what many believe to be a masterwork.

Well, it has been four years since "The Dark Knight" blazed across screens. The wait is over and audiences around the world will finally learn the answers to the questions I posed at the end of my review for "The Dark Knight." More importantly, we will learn the fate of Bruce Wayne and his alter-ego, the people he loves, and the city that has come to know him as "the thug in a cape" who murdered District-Attorney Harvey Dent.

For starters, "The Dark Knight Rises" begins eight years after the fateful night Batman runs from the police and takes the fall for the death of Harvey Dent. As Commissioner Gordon (the always great Gary Oldman) eulogizes Dent, we find Bruce Wayne as a recluse in the style of Jay Gatsby. His lifestyle prompts one character to make reference to Howard Hughes. Wayne is hobbled by his injuries and emotionally distraught over the death of Rachel Dawes. His business interests are in shambles and his philanthropic endeavors have been allowed to fall into ruin.

Once again, Bale's performance is subtle and nuanced. It is just one more great performance in a career full of them. In fact, Bale's reading of Bruce Wayne/Batman is easily the finest ever caught on film. With his hollow cheeks, drawn chin, and sunken eyes, Christian Bale's face will remind many of his haunting performance in "The Machinist." Anyone who attempts to play the character in the future will most certainly be compared to Bale. The reason for this is simple: He manages to be just as compelling without the costume and all the bat-toys. He is clearly a man content to lock himself away from the world and remain in splendid isolation behind the walls of the newly rebuilt Wayne Manor.

The only person who is able to shake Wayne from his stupor and bring him back to the land of the living is cat burglar Selina Kyle. Anne Hathaway's performance is really the only time the movie reaches for, and achieves, any real sense of levity. It should also be noted that Kyle's alter-ego is never called Catwoman in the film. However, Hathaway makes the most of her time on screen. She proves to be a formidable ally and a character who keeps the audience guessing and Batman on his toes. She is never totally above suspicion.

Which bring us to Bane.

Thomas Hardy plays Bane, a character who is introduced in the film's opening sequence during a thrilling, and well-executed, plane hijacking sequence. Without divulging any details, we learn that Bane is a link to Batman's past and his presence in the film provides a glimpse into Batman's flawed judgment. Bane wears a mask that administers medication to dull the pain from an injury he suffered earlier in his life. That is all I can really say without giving too much away. Hardy does great work and his vocal performance is expressive enough to balance the fact that we never actually see his facial expressions. Hardy put on thirty pounds of muscle to play Bane and his physical presence is that of a sophisticated brute whose sole purpose is to torture and kill Batman only after he executes Ra’s al Ghul's mission of destroying Gotham City.

Marion Cotillard plays Miranda Tate, the woman who takes Bruce Wayne's place on the board of Wayne Enterprises. She also gives Wayne a glimpse into the life he could have if he left Gotham and pursued the dream Alfred Pennyworth (played by Michael Caine) had for him since he was a young man. Caine will break your heart as he tells Wayne that he hoped he would never return to Gotham after the first time he left at the opening of "Batman Begins."

Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Officer John Blake in a performance that positions him as a surrogate for the audience. Blake has the kind of insight and innocence that allows him to get close to Wayne and inspires him to find the hero he has buried for the sake of a city that, once again, needs him. Gordon-Levitt's character stands to remind Wayne of the reason he got in the game in the first place - to make a difference. Blake is a true-believer and his character is the key to some really nice surprises that are revealed throughout the film. In fact, these revelations relate to the mythology of several key characters. They also help dispel some of the myths that surround heroes and keep us from seeing that every man must get his hands dirty in the fight against evil.

"The Dark Knight Rises" succeeds as a closing to Christopher Nolan's trilogy because we finally see this story come full-circle. In fact, most of the film's plot directly relates to events in "Batman Begins." As I stated previously, the story Nolan tells is truly epic in scope.

There are some who will complain because Batman does not appear on screen for nearly 50 minutes. In fact, Bruce Wayne/Batman disappears from the action of the film for an extended period of time while the film focuses on the supporting-characters. Others will take issue with the fact that the action is not centered around Batman chasing Bane around for 165 minutes amidst a barrage of explosions and special-effects. This a character-driven story that is carefully crafted and beautifully told.

After all, Nolan never promised you an action film.

Instead, "The Dark Knight Rises" transcends the action film genre because Nolan reinforces the belief that anyone can be a hero. Batman stands for the wrath of the righteous and all those who seek justice. But, like us, he is imperfect and flawed. Because of this, great heroes make difficult choices that ultimately define them. From time to time, those choices can even make them unpopular. After all, "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

There is also that rare moment when the actions of a hero can inspire men to reach for new levels of sacrifice and compassion, while displaying the courage to stand alone against unspeakable evil and seemingly unbeatable odds.

Great hero stories have been teaching us simple truths like these since the beginning of time.

The best storytellers actually get it right.

Buy the ticket and take the ride because Christopher Nolan is a master.

After all, this is where the legend ends...or does it?

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Redbox Kills Zombies...Dead


As I was leaving Shoprite, I passed the Redbox machine that stands about twenty feet from the exit. They should really move it closer to the dumpster.

Let's see if I can script out a few ideas for this gem.

[scene one: fade in on two zombies sitting on the couch. The wall behind them is wood panel with a very cheap, yard-sale purchased painting. The lights are dim. One of the lamps has a flickering bulb. Flies are buzzing and the air is still.]

(Zombie 1 speaks)

Zombie 1: I no understand why wife is so angry. Big deal. I come home cover in glitter. Why that always mean I at strip club? Why not party store planning surprise for wife?

[Zombie 2 does not have a lower jaw. He is missing the lower half of his face. He turns to Zombie 1 and motions to speak. Realizing the futility of his gesture, he shrugs, turns his head and goes back to staring into the distance. Zombie 1 continues to stare forward with his one hand scratching a gaping wound in his head, the other hand rests on his exposed knee cap.]

(Zombie 1 speaks as if this is totally normal)

Zombie 1: Thanks, Fred. You good listener.

Aaaaannnnnd....scene.

When I see movies like this, I realize we are doomed.

I honestly don't know where my loyalty is with this movie.
I think I am rooting for the zombies.

Zombie 1: I confused. I go for dance in champagne room. Why my credit card have charge for $4,000?

Don't laugh too hard. Someone is going to rent this piece of shit.

Zombie 1: ...and, then....I wake up in bathtub with pain in back and stitches. I no have kidney no more. Good thing I dead and no need kidney. Why my head hurt? Why balls itch?

Annnnnnnnnd.....scene.

Take heart, folks.

World War Z will be in theaters once they finished very expensive reshoots. The Walking Dead returns in a few months. All will be well in zombie-world, soon enough.


Saturday, March 03, 2012

Bruce Springsteen - Wrecking Ball



When times are tough, Bruce Springsteen seems to be at his best.

On his 17th studio album, Springsteen has turned his back on the more personal offerings of the last decade and focuses his attention to the Big Picture themes currently dominating our national debate. The subjects of marriage, friendship, and fidelity have been replaced by meditations on war, the economy, and grass-roots revolution.

For anyone who has any doubt, most of the material on "Wrecking Ball" does seem inspired by the Occupy Wall Street movement. If not inspired by, the songs certainly do address some of the same concerns of the men and women who took to the streets in towns across America in 2011-2012.

The album actually feels very similar to "Nebraska" in theme and "The Seeger Sessions" in execution. It has a rollicking "open-letter" feel to it that sees Springsteen blend folk guitar and gospel choirs with Celtic influences and hip-hop drum loops. The result is an album that surprises and pleases the ear.

Produced by Ron Aniello "Wrecking Ball" is a clarion call. Despite its billing, the album is big, loud, and fierce in tone. Although the E Street Band is not necessarily credited, they do make fine contributions when called upon.

Opening with "We Take Care of Our Own", Springsteen sets a surprisingly apolitical tone that evenly points a finger at the leaders that have failed the American people and abandoned them in their hour of greatest need. Admittedly, the song does not necessarily stand well on its own. However, it is a more striking moment when heard in the context and framework of the other songs on the album.

The album's title song is, at this point, well-known to fans of the band as the song Springsteen penned for the condemned Giants Stadium on the eve of its demolition. He also performed "Wrecking Ball" in Philadelphia weeks before The Philadelphia Spectrum met a similar fate. At first blush, the song remains a rousing anthem for the ill-fated sports arenas. Further listening reveals that, once again, in the context of the album the song takes on new life as a battle-cry for the walking wounded of a double-recession that has seen many people have to pick themselves up after being blindsided personally, professionally, and economically.

In a moment that would make Woody Guthrie proud, "Shackled and Drawn" is a depression era barn-burner that seems to borrow heavily from the sonic-palette of "The Seeger Sessions." In similar fashion, "Death To My Hometown" seems to rip the nostalgia out of the already battered-heart of "My Hometown." It's a sentiment served scalding-hot with a ferocious Irish-wake rhythm and a group of musicians that sound ready for a fight.

Tom Morello shows up to lend his guitar to two of the tracks on "Wrecking Ball." Most notably, his work on the somber "Jack Of All Trades" gives 'voice to the voiceless' in some of the most beautiful, understated work of his career. The song is a slow-boiling stunner that articulates the desperation of a working-class man who struggles to find odd-jobs while he is unemployed, taking "...what God will provide."

The most emotional contribution to the album is saved for last, as Clarence Clemons provides two beautiful solo turns on the stunning "Land of Hopes and Dreams." As Springsteen intones over a gospel choir "This train, carries souls departed. This train, dreams will not be thwarted. This train, faith will be rewarded," Clemons' saxophone provides the exclamation point. It's the emotional high-point of the album and it is a fitting legacy for Clemons and the love story that existed between the two men over the last forty years of their lives. It is a breathtaking moment that allows Clemens to rise and walk with Springsteen one final time.

It is tempting to measure "Wrecking Ball" against the breadth and scope of Springsteen's legendary canon. I found myself doing this in conversation with friends over the course of the last week. "Wrecking Ball" is actually the sound of the 62 year-old icon boldly moving towards reinvention. It speaks well of him that he is not fading gently into the easy trappings of adult-contemporary music. In fact, Springsteen has never sounded more angry than he does throughout "Wrecking Ball."

This is not the sound of a man who is content to mellow with age.

Perhaps, this is what the world needs from Bruce Springsteen in 2012. He has always been very good at writing songs that articulate the hopes and fears of his audience in the face of whatever adversity they face. From growing up, hitting the road, the struggles of adulthood and divorce, and the dark cloud of national tragedy, Bruce Springsteen has always had something to say that is clear, well-intentioned, and worth listening to at high-volume.

As "Wrecking Ball" ends, Springsteen invokes Curtis Mayfield when he calls on his audience to get on the "train a-comin." It is safe to say that wherever he goes, his fans will follow. This speaks volumes about any artist in today's world. Let's face it...most "leaders" make promises, very few actually deliver.

People get ready.

Bruce Springsteen delivers.

Sunday, February 05, 2012

Super Bowl XLVI - 2/5/12


Each year, I watch the Super Bowl and make fun of it.
I do this for you.

You're welcome.

Where to begin...

Oh, look...it's Tom Coughlin.

Tom Couhglin looks terrible for a man who is only 24 years old.

Look at Kelly Clarkson.
I dare you.
Just when you think she can’t look worse…she doubles down.
Its almost like she is daring you to buy her records...and defend her size.
She seems content to challenge the idea that she is supposed to maintain some sort of healthy body.

“Here, Kelly…have some fruit.”
“Fuck you…pass the pizza-flavored Häagen-Dazs®”
Its hard to imagne who is more unfuckable.
Is it Madonna or Kelly Clarkson?

So…the coin toss. They asked for a call of heads or tails and Eli mouthed the words, “Who me? Shit…I missed it. Ah, fuck…threeve! Oh, that’s not a number?”

Since Gisele is on record as asking for her family to pray for Tom Brady, I want to know who Tim Tebow is praying for. Maybe, he gave that up when he realized that the Lord only loves winners.

I know that I am praying for the same thing I pray for each year. I want the two teams to play to a scoreless tie.

So, the Giants get a safety. So far, Eli Manning has contributed nothing to the scoring and the Giants are winning. Sound like a familiar refrain?
Is anyone reading this willing to bet that Eli Manning doesn’t even know what this sport is called? He isn’t even aware that he plays football. I am sure of it.

Audi uses Echo & The Bunnymen in a commercial.
Oh, sorry assholes who don’t know who they are.
They were a band that wrote songs, played instruments and actually contributed something beyond taped loops and non-stop repetition. They were awesome. You don’t know anything about them.

This Pepsi commercial with Elton John sucks.
It sucks because I am tired of hearing the melodies of songs being performed with unnecessary vocal runs and nineteen notes where three will suffice.

One plus….NO JOE BUCK!

I wonder if the networks are aware that almost everyone in America can’t stand the sound of Joe Buck’s voice. Although, the continued presence of Cris Collinsworth proves they don’t care.

“I think there are twelve guys on the field”, proving that Cris Collinsworth can’t count. There are at least twenty guys on that field, Pterodactyl-Face.

The Giants score first and Eli Manning runs to the sidelines, frightened by all the loud noises. I said the Patriots would score first. That tells you that I know as much about football as Andy Reid.
See what I did there?

Yeah! The Celebrity Apprentice is back.
Fuck Donald Trump.
Seriously.

Aaron Ross is excited because he tackled Wes Welker..after Welker got the first-down.

Alright.

Who is that dude painting the model with Danica Patrick?

Battleship...the movie.
So, its Transformers...without the Transformers.
What's next...Parchessi: The Action Adventure?

There is a joke in there about terrible movies...bombs...and Rihanna....I just can't find it.

While we are at it, every movie with Liam Neeson should just be called "I Am Going To Hunt You Down and Kill You".

The Budweiser Prohibition commercial conveniently rewrites history.
Can you tell me what I am talking about?
Let's see if you know more than the average beer-drinker.

What does a kid peeing in a pool have to do with taxes?
I mean, besides the obvious.

How much you wanna bet Eli Manning runs from the line of scrimmage screaming like a little girl after he hands the ball off to his running-back?

The commercial with the dog jumping into the pool, as James Brown music was playing, is the highlight of the Super Bowl for my mom.

Once again, Eli Manning just throws the ball into the air and one of his stud receivers makes him look like a professional athlete.

Cris Collinsworth never misses an opportunity to remind people that he was in a Super Bowl. "I can tell you first hand..."
Yeah...that was awesome, Cris.
Remember the time you were in the Super Bowl...and lost?
You fail to mention that part of the story whenever you mention your Super Bowl experience.

Don't worry, buddy...I got you covered.

Dope.

David Beckham advertising for H&M.
You know he doesn't actually wear that shit, right?

This Coke commercial with the polar bears really is a work of fantasy.
Its not because I can't see them playing football with a bottle of Coke, its because there isn't that much ice left for them to run around on like that.
Thanks, Republicans.

See what I did there?

I spotlighted global-warming AND shit on the Republicans.

Always good times.

The half is almost over and its 9-3 proving that if it weren't for Eli Manning getting spotted two points on a bullshit safety call, it would only be a 4 point game.

G.I. Joe returns this summer to remind everyone you don't actually need a story - you just need explosions.

Here comes half-time where everybody loses.
Madonna *yawn* will do whatever it is she is doing to excite the crowd.
I actually think getting asked to play the Super Bowl means that you sorta suck.

Aside from Prince, U2, and Springsteen...is there anyone that played the Super Bowl half-time show for any other reason except the people organizing the event just didn't want to see a performer pull out his balls?

Brady finally throws a touchdown in the dying seconds of the half.

Speaking of dying...t-minus fifteen minutes to Madonna.

Tom Coughlin is going into the locker room to dine on fresh kitten flesh at half-time.
I'm sure of it.
It's where he gets his power.

Bill Belichick drinks the tears of endangered species to get himself gassed and ready to go for the second-half.

In the meantime, how many people in the stadium do you suppose Madonna has had sex with?

I bet its at least three people.

Think about it...none of you can say that.

God..she is a dirt-merchant.

I hate Jay Leno.

Of course Madonna is being carried on the field by people who are "slaves" to her.
At least Madonna isn't lip-syncing.
She could be...I'm not sure...the top half of her face and the bottom half don't seem to be working with the same group of muscles.

Hold me.

Who is going to be the surprise guest that makes things worse this year?

Oh, look...its LMFAO...Jesus Christ...did I just say that?

Nicki Minaj just forced everyone in middle-America to run into their kitchen and hide behind the dip-bowl.

Cee-Lo is here to remind you that this network still really wants you watch The Voice.

Cee-Lo is really testing the durability of that hydraulic platform.

Madonna just fell through the stage.
I don't think that was planned.

Christina Aguilera jumping...haha....around...HAHA....like...a...HAHAHAHAHAHA...ninja.
Whew.

I gotta go change my pants.
I think I just peed.

Damn...she's HEFTY.

Is Clint Eastwood playing a vampire in this commercial?
I'm just asking.

Tom Brady sets a Super Bowl record with 14 straight completions.
Let's not get crazy with the records that don't matter.

Just win the game, Tom.

TOUCHDOWN!

In case you haven't noticed, I am rooting for the Patriots.
I don't want to pay taxes in a world where Eli Manning has more rings than his more talented brother.

The world premier of SMASH.
Thanks for the warning.
I can't wait to not watch that show.

Eli Manning is getting too much time to throw the ball.
Somebody kill him.

In the meantime, I am sure Madonna is in intensive care after falling through the stage. At least, in my mind she is.

HAKEEM NICKS just got rocked!

Attention, Hakeem....your lunch is done.

The Fiat 300 Abarth commercial was the best one I've seen all day.
Actually, its the best commercial I've ever seen...in forever...and ever.

I want this game to turn into a body-bag bowl.
I hope the Patriots keep sending the Giants off the field with injuries.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Jay Leno fucks over Jerry Seinfeld for a car!
So funny...because...HAHA...Jay Leno NEVER fucked over anybody for anything.
HAHA!
So funny!

Fuck you, Jay Leno.

NO!
NO!

The Cult being remixed for a commercial?
Do I have to throw "Love" into the trash?

Dance beats ruin everything.

Eli Manning in the dirt.
If they set that to dance beats, I would watch it...and dance.

Aaaahhh....Matthew Broderick in the Ferris Bueller commercial we have seen for the last week on Facebook.

Moving on...

Another one of the Giants goes down.
Of course, Cris Collinsworth has something to say about that.

After watching the Bud Light commercial with the dog named "Weego", I hate people more than I did five minutes ago.

I hate the people who made it, starred in it, and the people who drink Bud Light.
The only good part about the commercial was the plug to save rescue dogs.
Aside from that, it sucked.

Someone needs to start covering the Giants receivers. Someone also needs to put a punishing hit on Eli Manning. I want to see his head knocked off.

Apparently, Eli Manning and Tom Coughlin are taking their time-out calling lessons from Andy Reid...who sucks, by the way.

Tom Coughlin is freaking out.
I love watching him get angry.

Woodhead!

I don't have anything. I just like saying "woodhead".

Motley Crue?
I'm dealing with Motley Crue?

The dude from The Darkness is back to tell you that...what the hell was that commercial for?

Wes Welker is pretty bad-ass for being a dude named Wes Welker.

Tom Brady had a million years to throw that last pass. He is getting good pass protection. His receivers are dropping the ball.

They are reviewing that play?
Come on...it was a catch.
I hate the Giants, but he caught that ball in bounds.

Did the Patriots just allow the Giants to score?
I'm really confused about all the shenanigans, at this point.

I can't believe this is coming down to the final minute with Eli Manning in the lead.
Again...I believe that football is fixed if the Giants win.

Tom Brady is getting killed by his receivers.
They are dropping good passes.

Is this really happening...again?

Are the Patriots really going to lose to the Giants, again?

The Giants don't even belong in this game.

The Giants also had too many men on the field.

Either way, the Patriots should not be in this situation.
If they lose, they can only blame themselves.

And...its over.
Eli Manning...you are so unworthy.
Just know that we all think you are lucky.

Even your fans know you are lucky.

I don't really have a horse in this race. I am not an Eagles fan. The Giants don't bother me. I just really think Eli Manning is the luckiest QB I have ever seen. When I think of all the talented players in this league who have to sit and watch a guy who is just above mediocre win a title...when Dan Marino, Dan Fouts, and Jim Kelly never won a title...it makes me sick.

Now, I have to see him get an MVP trophy?

Suck it, Eli.
I will never think you are legitimate.

Sunday, February 06, 2011

Super Bowl XLV - 2/6/11


Well, its that time of year again.

It’s time to watch the Super Bowl and make fun of everything about it.

Let me begin by saying that no matter what happens, I hate Dallas.

Forget the Cowboys…..I just hate the city.

While we are at it, Texas can go fuck itself, too.

Now you know where I’m at.

Awwww, shit…..Joe Buck?
He's allowed to ruin The World Series and The Super Bowl?
Really?


Pam Oliver looks a bit mannish.

Seriously, she also has a big mouth.
She looks like she could fit a “Shake Weight” in that pie-hole.

Ben Roethlisberger and that beard….holy hell, you know he didn’t wear that shit to court. If he did, he would be in a cell next to “The Unabomber”.

“The Pittsburgh Steelers represent all of the enduring qualities of the city of Pittsburgh….”

Um, what qualities would those be?



Sam Elliott looks like a geriatric Yosemite Sam with that fucking mustache.

Screw his conservative ass. His agent gets a call once a year that goes, “Yeah…we need a guy who looks like he spent his whole life mendin’ fences and shovelin’ shit. Send us Sam.”

Wait….no one who produced this broadcast thought it would be a good idea to juxtapose Sam Elliott’s introduction of the Steelers with another has-been actor with a deep voice to intro the Packers?

Why not get Dan Lauria dressed as Vince Lombardi to do that introduction?

I mean….you’re welcome.

Great….Jennifer Aniston and Adam Sandler in another shit movie that is going to make them both wealthier.



Don’t get nervous watching Lea Michele sing….just picture her in her underwear. Oh, wait….GQ already handled that.

George W. Bush and his unhappy looking wife get a big cheer from the crowd. How quickly Americans forget.

Christian Aguilera has fallen so far from fame that when you Google her name, the Christina School District comes up first. That is no joke. I am also tired of the unnecessary vocal-runs during the performance of The National Anthem. Cut it out. The song has a straight melody line that we are all familiar with, at this point. Stop trying to sing it like it’s a contest to show off how you can sound like you are juggling a ping-pong ball with your larynx. Meanwhile, way to fuck up the words. Wow…remember when everyone thought that little skank was cute? Wow…those days are long gone.



As bad as she is…she isn’t as bad as that douche from Chicago. He is insufferable. They should just put his rendition on a loop and play it over loudspeakers wherever we go to war. Our opponents would surrender almost immediately.

Awww…the two bears in the McDonald’s commercial. If Sarah Palin and her family were in that car…those poor bears would get their fool heads blown off. Boy…that would be a depressing end to that commercial.

Cool…Kirk Douglas looks much younger than….oh, wait.
I kid...I love Michael Douglas.

Haha! Please let Shannon Sharpe be reading something that amounts to a tongue-twister! That would be awesome. No, wait…let him do it with Deion Sanders in a kind of “Row Your Boat” tandem. God…I am full of good ideas, tonight.

This event would be much cooler if it were opening night of the Phillies regular season. Just saying.

Roethlisberger’s beard actually impeded that last throw.

Is this the first Super Bowl without cheerleaders?

I can’t wait to hear what kind of trouble Roethlisberger got himself into in Dallas, over the last few days. Don’t worry…it’ll come out.

If I misspell Roethlisberger’s name at any time, or start calling him Terry Bradshaw…its intentional.

Green Bay has pretty cool uniforms.



Are the Steelers having an ugly beard contest?

Christ…they are ugly men.

“Release the hounds.” That expression isn’t used often enough, for my liking.

I would actually like a remake of "Who Let The Dogs Out" called "Release The Hounds". Get me Kanye on line 1. That son of a bitch is crazy enough to do it.

I am not for team owners who make their players conform to weird dress regulations. But, I would not allow a player to grow his hair to shoulder length. It looks ridiculous coming out of a football helmet. Ridiculous.



The Black Eyed Peas have promised something spectacular? The only thing I want to see is George and John raised from the dead to join Paul and Ringo at the 50 yard line. It would also be nice to see the Black Eyed Peas get launched off the roof of this stadium and buried head first in one of the snowbanks in the parking lot.

A-Rod and Cameron Diaz. I know he plays baseball. But, why is she still famous? More people will go to a movie theater to use the bathroom than buy a ticket for one of her movies.

Aaron Rodgers throws a great pass to Jordy Nelson….beating William Gay.

Moving on.

So, Doritos bring a dead goldfish, your plant, and your grandfather back to life? I can’t wait for the lawsuits. I’ll tell you one thing it can’t do…say it with me….Doritos cannot bring a dead hooker back to life. You just have to roll her up in the carpet.

“Cowboys and Aliens”. Hmmmmmmm….not sure. The porno that spoofs it will make more money.



God…the montage of the Packers and Steelers. Did anyone have a full set of teeth in the 60’s and 70’s?

HAHA! Roethlisberger gets picked off for seven. Let the fake injuries begin.

What are those dumb tie-dyed shirts the Packers are wearing on the sidelines?

Roethlisberger grabs at his knee. Just rub some Doritos on it, dummy. At least he is grabbing his own knee.

GoDaddy finally did it. I finally threw up watching a commercial. Watching Joan Rivers at GoDaddy would be the worst use of the internet….ever.

If Pittsburgh wants to win this game, they better put Sidney Crosby in at QB, then get some NHL refs to run up and down that field. They'll start getting some calls, in a hurry.

John Travolta sitting in a luxury box. Oh, forget it…it’s just too easy.



So, far the Volkswagon commercial with Darth Vader is the big winner.

Natalie Portman is also in Thor? Enough, already.

Aaaahhhh….Roethlisberger’s nose gets rubbed in shit during the game. Way to bring up his sexual-misconduct charge, during the game. I’m sure his mom hasn’t seen enough of that. I’m sure she isn’t watching, either. No big deal.

Roethlisberger gets picked off, again.

Troy Polamalu looks like he wants to kick Ben’s ass.

Troy Polamalu tries to take the receiver’s head off, but he still catches the ball and the Steelers are still losing. Nice try, hairy.



Captain America. Nice. Let’s just turn off the game and start the movie, at this point.

Roethlisberger finally does something right, as the first-half ends.

I can’t believe American Idol is still on television. I just cant believe it.

The Black Eyed Peas are the worst band…EVER. Fergie…is terrible. Fergie sounds like something you do in a hot-tub after you spent the night eating crab-cakes, bran-muffins, and drinking stale coffee.

Oh, Slash….no.

Yeah! Here comes Usher to make it worse.

Do the Black Eyed Peas write a song that doesn’t incorporate another more famous song?

Watching the Black Eyed Peas makes me want Bud Bowl back.

Haha. Where is the L-O-….E?

Nice work, lighting guys.

I hope Fergie gropes Ben Roethlisberger and says something like, “Me likey” in a really deep voice.



Is it me, or can you tell that Joe Buck is rooting for the Steelers by the way his voice goes up when they score?

The wheels are falling off for Green Bay. They better pull themselves together or Joe Buck is going to jizz in his Dockers.

Adrien Brody for Stella Artois. That was really weird.



Wow…look….Jerry Jones hosts war-criminals in his box.

The Packers are blowing it. Did I mention that?

The Steelers attempt a 52 year field goal….AAAAANNNNDDD……...was he aiming at the high-school goal post down the road?



Nice commercial for Detroit. But, guess what? I’ve been there. It IS hell on earth, ok? Let’s not get stupid. I have never felt more unsafe in public. Even the mall is shady and I was in Livonia. There is a reason why you can buy a house for $15K and the SuperDome for the price of a house in the Philly suburbs. Want to know why? It’s like that because George W. Bush allowed all their jobs to be sent overseas. What a piece of garbage he is.

See how I did that?

Mike Wallace buried as the ball goes through his hands. If I were him, I would tell Roethlisberger to keep the fucking ball down. I like my ribs and breathing is fun.

Does any city with a sports team benefit from stacked officiating the way Pittsburgh does? Their teams get all the calls.

Vote for the MVP? There is still a quarter left to play. Only the NFL, man,

One of my friends said the real winners of the Super Bowl are the people who manufacture yellow pants. Really? Its hard to look cool doing anything in yellow pants.

A hold on Flozell Adams. I just like saying “Flozell”.

Is Byron Leftwich listening to his iPod on the sidelines?
Is Byron Leftwich still in the NFL?



(Douchebag throws up gang-signs)

Roethlisberger points at the sky. Dude….really? God doesn’t like you.

If you had your pick, what show would you take off the air: Glee or American Idol?

Your answer is wrong. The correct answer is “both”.

Wow…Joe Buck isn’t even trying to hide the fact that he has money on Pittsburgh. You can hear it in his voice.

Aaron Rodgers is moving the ball down the field. I really do want to see them beat Pittsburgh. Enough of them, already.

Kim Kardashian found a way to be in a Super Bowl commercial? I guess it had to happen.

Roethlisberger throws an incomplete pass on 4th and 5. The Packers are going win the Super Bowl and all is right with the world.

Somewhere, Brett Favre is taking a picture of his dong.

Pam Oliver, again. Oh, the shit I went through to make fun of you tonight.

Now, go get your Shake Weight, big-mouth.

Roger Goodell is trying wrestle the microphone away from Terry Bradshaw - who isn't letting it go. God...the owners are scumbags. Even if the league goes on strike, the owners still get paid the revenue they would make as if the season were still being played.

Dear NFL Players Association - Stand strong and demand what you deserve. The owners can't do a thing without you.

Congrats, Green Bay.