This week, the main story focuses on a young black man, Clinton, who just wants to see his son and goes on a rampage trying to get to him… breaking one man’s face with a telephone receiver, shooting his buddy Flex in the hand, stealing a car, tying up an old lady… in the context of the show, it’s all pretty unjustifiable, so normally we’d expect to see him in a body bag by the end. Not this time.

This time Clinton is the brother-in-law of one of the Marshall’s, the rather boring Rebecca who seems to be the token black person on the show, and should be written out immediately. Despite killing Rebecca’s sister in an automobile accident when high, and causing all this trouble, the coda is the one you’d expect from a more sentimental show. The brother-in-law lives, and gets to give his gift to his son, before being taken back to jail.

This, in itself, runs against the ethos of the show, the man should be dead or dying, and certainly shouldn’t be seeing his son. A worse ending is dished out for Flex, however, who was looking to go straight and become a magician, but having been shot in the hand realises he’ll never make it and seeks revenge against Clinton. Flex is the classic hero in a Justified tale, seeking revenge, wild west style, for someone who wronged him, he’s the kind of kid who needs to be talked down from doing something justifiable but stupid. Instead, the Marshall service gun him down, just to save Clinton, the murderous rampaging brother-in-law, from a death he deserves.

This is against everything the show stands for, Clinton should be dead, not being visited by his son, and Flex, who got caught in a situation that he had every right to seek revenge for, should be in custody, not being buried six feet under.

Perhaps worse, however, is the failed attempt to give Rebecca more depth; here they’ve tried to make her interesting by giving her a sad backstory about a dead sister and a drug taking brother-in-law, to elicit some sympathy, but really it’s only a weak facsimile of Raylans own storyline, where he constantly has to deal with a criminal father and outlaw friends.

My only hope is that the wizard Flex lives and it was all part of an elaborate gangsta magic show. Long live Flex!

A writer and exterminator starts feasting on his own bug powder, and his typewriter takes on the form of a bug, giving him instructions against mysterious forces aligning against him. The main narrative never makes too much sense, with various agents confusingly labelled, and apparently involved in double crosses that are hard to follow or understand, but there’s certainly a lot of creativity in the various creatures and scenarios that occur on screen; full of mugwumps with cum spouting antennae and massive beetles with vaginas on their fleshy backs.

I suppose the film is meant to show one man fleeing from a murder into a world of fantasy; of sex and drugs and violence, of people returning from the grave – in order to avoid the guilt of a possibly accidental, possibly deliberate homicide. I think on that level it is something of a success, but this meta-narrative is only a part of a confusing whole, which means we’re faced with large sections of dull, meaningless but creative scenes that never really hang together well, that aren’t entertaining or compelling, but generally confusing or suffused with a seemingly impenetrable importance.

There are times when Peter Weller, the lead, starts quoting from the source novel, and these sections are beautifully worded and strange narratives, but they make little sense in the context they’ve been placed, and seem to give him a much greater eloquence than he has in other scenes. It’s a bit of a mess, but then I suppose that dreams are messy. So yes, Cronenberg has managed to create a artistic interpretation of one man’s flight from reality, it’s just not a particularly compelling flight.

The fight sequence between Rogen and Chou, as they face off against each other in a petty argument, is one of the high points of a film that is filled with fast paced action and some nice gags, though sometimes both gags and action lack a certain dynamism, we have, after all, been down this road many times before. The biggest let down, however, is the villain, played by Christoph Waltz, continuously told that no-one finds him scary as a running gag, he fails to exude the menace needed for the role and cannot really carry the comic aspect either. It might have been better to keep the far more charismatic James Franco in the film for longer, especially as he gets a fistful of the best laughs at the beginning by calling Waltz a disco Santa Claus. Cameron Diaz also features and has a fine turn as the obligatory love interest, and while her character is never really fleshed out, she never gets kidnapped, manages to disable both Rogen and Chou, and masterminds their whole plan. Not bad for a small female part in a superhero film. Likeable, fun, charming, needs a better villain, perhaps a few scenes need a trim, but otherwise thumbs aloft.

I think I was hoping for a 3 star film; that the combination of multiple good actors would be winning, but all the older stars were sidelined for what was essentially a love story between Rachel McAdams and Patrick Wilson whose relationship was riddled with multiple non-conflicts. Sigh.

… and so a new category was born, Three Star Rom-Coms, wherein I continually pursue that slightly better than ho-hum rom-com that I can watch, go “awwwwww” at every now and again, without it straining credulity or having someone run after something at the end (why? why?). Naturally, Morning Glory features McAdams racing across town in its closing moments, which does nothing to raise it above the mediocrity it’s sunk into by that point.

So what was Morning Glory? McAdams is hired by Jeff Goldblum (who should be in far better films) to work on the piece of crap morning show Daybreak. McAdams goes on to hire Harrison Ford (has he stared in anything worthwhile since What Lies Beneath?) who plays an old slightly drunken news anchor (PG certificate drunkenness, no pissed pants or vomit on his tie) who has a problem with the morning, variety show, format. He bitches and moans at co-anchor Diane Keaton (how the mighty have fallen) who throws herself into ridiculous scenarios in order to boost ratings. She’s onboard, will Harrison lighten up enough to save the show? Why do you think McAdams is running at the end?

There are some perfectly fine moments, like Harrison’s promo for the show, full of purposeful walking, smoldering looks, pan to Ford; “What’s in the suitcase? Where am I going? I look like a jackass” or Matt Malloy’s bore being put through Fear Factor style tests of endurance through which he screams continuously. Unfortunately the underlying idea that, in the modern world, its a race for the bottom and McAdams is a sprinter who is dragging everyone down with her (and up in the ratings) isn’t particularly inspiring, and the idea that we should be routing for the one man with any backbone in the industry to have a live colonoscopy on air is funny, but not exactly uplifting.

As mentioned above, however, the real failing is focusing so much on the love affair between McAdams and Wilson, both of whom should have no trouble falling in love with each other, even though their jobs are demanding, but instead of showing any real connection between them McAdams just proceeds to fall over every now and again, therefore looking “cute” while Wilson moans about McAdams being too attached to her job as if being a motivated and engaged woman is somehow a negative to a fellow aspiring producer. Sigh indeed.

Naturally it’s not a great rom-com, no one is foolish enough to expect that, but we want three stars, we want average, we want something we can switch off too, be given a happy ending, then drift off to sleep, and this, this doesn’t quite deliver. The comedy is there, every so often, the redemptive arc is there, skinny, lacking depth, but with Ford’s face, and yet the romantic aspect never gets off the ground, it’s not given enough time grow, to latch on to the old heart strings. Not a success. Not quite three stars.

There are plenty of highlights in the film, not least the montage sequences where Cooper gets his life in order, or wins a girl, or, perhaps best of all, realises that because he’s watched Enter The Dragon, he can now fight like Bruce Lee. There’s a lot of imagination up on the screen, with some nice camera work and some great futuristic music. The whole thing could do with a little more backstory, we don’t really learn much about Cooper by the end of the film, about whether the trajectory he is on is good for the world or not, and there’s some disjointed moments with a local thug who lent Cooper money and is now looking for a bigger payback, but even so, it’s a fine movie, with enough good ideas to overcome its few problems. A good film.

There’s very little to add, most of the cast have the usual redemptive moment, including the coach himself. The only real difference between this and a clutch of other similar films is the trash talking kids, most of whom get the best lines. Chief among them is Tatum O’Neal, as the daughter to Matthau’s old sweatheart, who throws a wicked curve ball and carries a lot of the emotional weight of the film. There’s also a somewhat serious sequence at the end as the bad coach shows his nasty side which plays as a sort of moral lesson for the audience; sure Matthau is a drunk reprobate, but sometimes that’s better than being a jerk.

Naturally, the binary nature of the genre (either they win or they lose) and the need for everyone to resolve their issues in a single season of baseball is never going to help raise such films to great heights, but within the restrictive boundaries of such genre fare, it makes a good fist of offering something slightly different.

So Dennis, he opens the bag of money, we assume this is the first time he’s looked. It explodes. Both the money and his face are coated in a purple paint; the money is worthless now. Of course, it should be worthless already; whenever ransom money is paid the serial numbers are counted and flagged, if anyone deposits the money the authorities will be contacted. He’s marked too, he has paint on his face, but worse, he has a crippled hand, so obviously crippled that anywhere he goes in the world, as soon as he removes a glove, he’ll stand out as an oddity.

Yet this infuriates him. He can’t use the money and his cover has been blown, but the money would be worthless already, and the authorities would find him reasonably easy to pick up as a man whose hand is so obviously mangled, yet this paint infuriates him. He fires his machine gun into the air, shouting at Keanu. We never know if Keanu hears him shout, one would suspect the sound of the train is too loud for any cries to be heard, but he does manage to dodge the bullets. Back and forth he rolls, and the bullets all miss.

So Dennis tosses the gun, and with a cry clambers up on top of the train. He brings with him the detonator for the bomb, the one strapped to Bullock. He wants to kill Keanu with his own hands, and he’s bringing the detonator, because if he loses he’ll drop the detonator and everyone dies. His mind is clouded; if he leaves now, Keanu will die in the blast, but instead he fights him on the roof, he fights the younger, fitter man, a man who can use both hands.

Dennis presents Keanu with a dilemma; he can let Dennis beat him to death, or, now that Dennis is close enough, he can overpower the disabled villain and take the detonator. Keanu, initially confused that Dennis would make such an obvious error of judgement, chooses the latter course, and in doing so, manages to decapitate Dennis.

As Dennis’ head falls from his shoulders we’re left with this: a continual mess of illogical behaviour, sewing together scenes that really shouldn’t be taking place, and this: a series of set pieces tied together with an absence of explanations. There is a place for the spectacularly dumb, and Speed is spectacularly dumb, but more importantly, Speed doesn’t bore you with ridiculous explanations, it doesn’t stare at Sandra’s chest for minutes on end, it just happens, scene after bewildering scene. It’s wonderful how it lacks pretension, how the female characters aren’t sexualised and how the leads are capable without bragging about it. As a loud, over the top action film, it’s amazing how quiet it is, and how willing it is to just get on with providing thrills. It’s crap, but inoffensive, faint but fitting praise.

Reese Witherspoon has just lost her job as an Olympic softball champ and is looking for a new direction, along comes Paul Rudd, a businessman being indicted, and Owen Wilson, a vapid jock, as two possible matches. Witherspoon starts with Wilson, and while Wilson is full of charm, he’s also a bit of a dick, but since he’s narcisistic he’s not going to ask Witherspoon about her troubles, which is a win for her. Rudd, on the other hand, is the nice guy who falls for Witherspoon’s easy going small town wisdom, and listens to her, makes her feel loved, but he’s a little too goofy and strange for Witherspoon’s taste, plus there’s the whole business of possibly losing everything he has in an upcoming court case.

Broadcast News gave Holly Hunter two matches, a smart guy and a pretty one, which kept the viewer guessing until the last moment about who she’d go for. How Do You Know follows the same kind of guidelines, but now it’s a nice guy who might end up poor, and a rich, talented dick, so it’s a little more obvious how things will turn out.

It does have some charm, for example, it’s one of the few films I’ve seen recently where the girl doesn’t fall over at some point to underline how cute she is, and the nice guy is shown to have faults, making the final scene something of a real choice, even if it’s an obvious one. The script isn’t too bad and has a very charming central scene between Kathyrn Hahn, playing Rudd’s pregnant friend, and her boyfriend. Plus, the scenes between Witherspoon and Wilson strike me as more true than their counterparts in other films; yes, women will fall for men just because they’re pretty and self-confident, even if they’re clearly also hugely self-involved and not that nice.

However, there’s also some bland acting, Rudd, Wilson and Witherspoon are all playing to type, while Kathryn Hahn overacts in every scene. Rudd is a nice guy, but it’s obvious that Witherspoon could do better, whereas it’s not clear why Wilson, as a millionaire ballplayer, wouldn’t have a more, for example, storage space in his home, something which causes friction between the couples. Finally, it is hard to feel sympathy for what one can see are three incredibly successful people, even if two of the three are falling on hard times; having to downgrade your apartment to one the size most viewers already live in is not such a bad thing…

Overall, I’d say it’s a three star rom-com. Not quite the waste of time that most of these things are, but without enough depth to the love triangle, or to the characters own lives, to make it really worth recommending.

Most Inspirational Gutenberg Appearance
Party Down : Steve Gutenberg’s Pary S02 E05

-I don’t think this can help, I think we should call it quits, I don’t feel comfortable doing this.
- I know, I understand, this is scary, and you feel vulnerable. But if you want to be a true writer, you have to commit to your work. If you don’t share it with the world, you’re only a writer in your head. Making art is an act of courage. Do you know who said that?
- Morrison.
- Steve Gutenberg?
- Yes! No risk, no reward! Let’s be brave! C’mon you’re like a tiger! A lion strong with your mane!

Party Down is an awesome series, full of bleak, depraved situations, usually involving Ron, the brain dead manager of Party Down Catering, fucking up spectacularly. Like the time he collapses in his own puke. But the series also had the ability to inspire, and craft a moment of greatness amongst the many continuous humiliations. In this episode Steve Gutenberg turns into a mentor for all the aspiring actors in the catering crew, here helping smart ass
Roman the writer see why his scripts are always getting turned down, by making him get the actors to perform it in front of an audience. No risk, no reward.

Most Inspirational Desert Warlord
Lester, Cherry 2000

- We’re counting on you men. Keep the sun out of your eyes and be yourselves.
- Be friendly yet firm; don’t break anything, especially you.
- Remember gentlemen: Life is an adventure.

In a post apocalyptical wasteland, Lester is a lovable psychopath hunting down Sam, a man searching for a replacement sexbot for his burnt out Cherry 2000. Unlike Sam, who is one of the creepiest heroes in 80s cinema, Lester comes across as a nice guy, a father figure to his desert hordes, sure he’s batshit crazy, but all the same, his inspirational messages to his troops make him as huggable as a teddy bear.

Most Inspirational Self-Aggrandizing Shit
Kenny Powers, Eastbound & Down

- I’m a bulletproof tiger!

Long before Sheen started bellowing about being a tiger blooded warlock, Kenny Powers was strutting through his hometown having hit rock bottom yet still suffering from delusions of grandeur. Selfish, dumb, but unflaggingly full of self-belief. I’m KENNY FUCKING POWERS. Hell yeah.