Bill Nighy – Behind the Proscenium

January 24, 2014

I, Frankenstein [REVIEW]

I, Frankenstein

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

The cinema is big and of beautiful.

So is life.

But life is realer.

Can it be more real than when Olli, my beloved old brother, had two weeks ago his life mud suddenly stop in his heart, with heart pain, almost become a time for him to party with Jesus?

THAT is realer than real.

Olli lives, but no more bacon and Kossu.

The hearing of this almost made my life mud stop.

No bacon or Kossu is not for a happy living.

It is not life at all.

Like “I, Frankenstein” is not a movie at all.

No.

Too many movie films are just like my Friday nights – I take the sweet, sweet smoke then I slurp the lovely Kossu into my stomach place followed by Jalapeno Cheddar Cheetos.

Then I watch my goddamn roommate (Brad, you are not goddamned if you stop eating my peanut butter, OK?) play “Demon Kill Fun Time IV” on the X-box because my hands are too wasted for playing.

When I watch the game “Demon Kill Fun Time IV” I think my eyeballs see “Underworld” or “Underworld VI” or any in between for there are many.

But I am wrong.

And Aaron Eckhart is not Kate Beckinsale.

And that gives me the sadness.

Plot? Uh, sure.

Frankenstein (Aaron Eckhart again) is still the Frankenstein we remember.

This lasts for a minute.

While digging a grave he finds a demon disco and the demons want his ass. Stoner gargoyles make him saved!

Then gargoyles (with Amanda Otto leader) and demons (with Shaun’s stepfather Bill Nighy) are said to be in epic fight (definitely not vampires and werewolves, that would be unoriginal!) that has lasted through history and longer than the runtime of this shit storm film.

Or so it feels.

Then to the now. Terra (Yvonne Strahovski) is playing with rats – it is Hollywood, am I right?!?

BAM!!!

And the rat playing is in a laboratory above Dead Demons Who Need Souls Disneyland.

And the demons want Frankenstein’s secret for his perfect jaw. The gargoyles don’t think demons should have jaws of perfection.

Epic battles follow. Who wins?

Wait two months and see this on Netflix. Of if it makes the large bags of money cash, see the next 5 Frankenstein films if you have nothing in your life worth doing.

Dear Hollywood: Just because you say demons are not vampires and gargoyles are not lycans and give the same funny face make-up and bad CGI to movies with darkness and creepy electronic music does not make you original.

Sometimes, there needs be something new – called this new thing is in Finland called A STORY.

The story must be for the first time telling. The otherwise, you have nothing but steaming poop.

Steaming poop that we have seen.

Steaming poop that is losing its steam.

And without steam, poop is just a pile of “I, Frankenstein.”

So, two thumbs that don’t want to be around cold poop.

Aaron Eckhart is not Kate Beckinsale. But then, there is no other Kate Beckinsale to be had – this is truth.

I have watched this video game before.

On my TV.

Played by my roommate Brad.

With better graphics.

And more original story, even when all I do is suck my Cheetos, gargle my Kossu, and breathe the smoke.

Heaven, really, on earth and my apartment. But not in the cinema.

There is nothing there but my butt getting sore.

Kimmo Mustonenen – (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. Dear Olli, if this is for you to read, tell me: Is life really the life without bacon? When your life mud stopped for that time in your muscle heart, did you see Uncle Jaarko? And if so, is he still mad that I owe him money? Tell me the truth, right in to my ear. It can be taken.

P.P.S. “The Returned” is creepy cool – because it is French no doubt. French are creepy cool that way. And red-head French twins (when legal) are hot, Hot, HOT!!! See it, if you are daring.

P.P.P.S. Brad, if on a peanut butter purchase today, get on the crunchy. Creamy is for the weak.

August 23, 2013

The World’s End [REVIEW]

The World’s End

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

There are times in which life is art.

And then the art is also life, in reality.

The brain sees, with his eyeball friends, things that are not real reality – but film reality which is sometimes MORE real, although not at all.

This is that time, or was.

When I was in “The World’s End.”

Or so I had the thought that it was true.

I’ll explain.

“The World’s End” is my life story without me and my life.

“How am this be possible, Kimmo?” shouts your thoughts.

So did my own thinking thoughts, with the shouting. I was confusion.

See if this helps:

Plot? Hell right!

In the distant past, before internet porn, Gary (Simon Pegg) was too cool for most school. He had too cool friends – Peter (Eddie Marsan), Oliver (Martin Freeman), Steven (Paddy Considine) and funny fat guy Andrew (Nick Frost).

They are different actors when younger. Even with the sweet, sweet smoke there was no brain confusion from this.

They went on the most ever of all epic pub crawls (in Finland we call this “pretty much every day of the week”) – “The Golden Mile” only to become whimpy nerds after six.

This failing causes them all to be boring older persons, except for Gary, who is still good at drinking.

In the today times, Gary wants to recreate the moment and defeat “The Golden Mile” and make it to the last pub (The World’s End) where there will be much vomiting if done correctly.

He gathers his older, more hairless gang, and head to town.

Then weird shit hits the fan.

I will give no spoiling, only to say that the trailer had robots and the movie has robots. On a pub crawl.

This is where it is my life.

In Finland, there are many crawling to pubs AND there are robots. Son of a bitch.

Why is my living life on the movie screen? I am in freak out mode.

Simon Pegg is playing me. WTF?

When I had a calmer time, I began to see the genius of it all. Make a movie about Kimmo, without Kimmo, and Kimmo will love the damn thing!

So, what have my feelings on this to say?

First, great, great movie!

Friends, beer, hot chicks, beer, shots, beer, robots, beer, and then more beer.

Acting – great! Andy drinks water and Gary is all “you are for the drinking of rain!”. So, writing is good, too.

If you are of the drinking person type, you will drool into your popcorn.

I did.

The beer is luxuriously photo’d. Damn, the beer was pretty.

Then there are three girls known in the past as “The Marmalade Sandwich.”

They deserve it, and prove it in the best sequence that had no nudity but was still “ooo la la” to my nether regions. My loins quivered.

My only fault finding with this film was that the three were not butt naked. The movie would have then been an instant classical movie.

So, two thumbs straining to the sky! I am all happiness, for now I know that Hollywood (English Hollywood – they talk more better and party hearty!) knows how my mind thinks and that makes me happy.

For I miss Finland.

I miss crawling to pubs.

And I miss crawling to pubs with robots.

Go to Finland and one day you will miss these things, too.

Kimmo Mustonenen – (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. American football is almost here. I have now eaten a hot wing, a nacho, and those quesadilla things. American football will make me a fatty fatterson! And I am in love with it!

March 1, 2013

Jack the Giant Slayer [REVIEW]

Jack the Giant Slayer

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Times have hard.

We know this.

Hollywood then shows us.

We watch The Mr. Oscar Show and strange face “Look At Me, I Am Also Smug Guy Who Wants To Sing In Your Face” person is on hourly, for what is to me, also forever.

Pretty people also are staging to the T.V., some with awards, more with sadness in their brain thoughts.

On the carpet, all women admit to wearing the clothes of someone else – yet none of the carpet questioning people feel the creeps.

This is Hollywood.

This is the Academy Awards.

This review is “Jack The Giant Slayer.”

It needs not to worry about the Academy Awards.

Ever.

But, even though winning is not to be foreseen – this is good for the film worker people. If for to win, they would have to talk to “Smug Guy Who Was Upstaged By Captain Kirk” which would be the suck.

But all is not bad. Really.

First, I, Kimmo, will not use Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum in the film review.

All critics who do – or use any variable of the 4-F’s – is of the review school hack class.

No Fee, Fi, Fo, Fun for good review.

No Fe, Fi, Fo, Dumb for bad review.

No Fee, Fi, Foo, Meh for a review tweener.

This reviewer (though many times with drunks and stoned) is not of laziness.

So review I must.

Plot? Fe, Fi, Fo, YES! Damn, it was too much to not do.

Plot – Jack is a kid with stories talked to his ear hole by Dad (look out Dad! Here comes the plague!).

Isabella is a kid who has the same stories (look out Mom! Etc). and grows up to be hot.

In real life, Jack (Nicholas Hoult) got to diddle Jennifer Lawrence and motor-boat her rack (for this, Hoult deserves Lifetime Achievement Award). Then, she, Jennifer, was too good for a bean kid.

To continue, hot Isabella (Eleanor Tomlinson) is now fap fantasy for Roderick (Stanley Tucci – with creepy sameness inside from “The Lovely Boner”) who is shopping for the Magic Crown that lets the owner control Giants – people who are taller than Abraham Lincoln (see review).

Jack does stuff, like slaying Giants, but damn spoiler title told you that already.

The move is in the land of Not Bad.

CGI Giants are CGI from the days of Tecmo Bowl Nintendo. Fun after bong sucking, fun after the beer chug, cheesy in my real reality.

The 3D was realistic as to make me barf. Yes, the 3D, not the too much overdrunk beer and stale Raisonettes.

I stand by this statement.

For you readers with bigger brains, see the ripped off for this movie – “Trollhunter.” This move is more better than “Jack blah blah blah” in the way that all of Scandinavia (minus Sweden) is superior to Los Angeles (except for the weather – so I really hate Scandinavia, I guess – my mind is confusion).

The Trolls are better computer beasts than the Giants – although the Giants have more lines.

So one and a half thumbs in the atmosphere. There is enjoyment.

I expected a major suck (like that damn Twilight turd-fest) and the suck did not appear.

The secret to liking a film (I’m now thinking) is to expect it to be full of the horrible.

This did not work for the Twilight films, but seem to work for all else.

I will continue this film experiment – since summer is coming, with its crap-storm of film stink. Here is hoping my expecting is not my reality.

Kimmo Mustonenen – (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. It is almost again the time for baseballs! I don’t have understanding for the game so much, but love Dodger Dogs – and cold beer that is more money worth than gold in its cost. This game is not hockey (the greatest of all since it was played by God Himself), but not bad for steroid boys with bats. Not to mention hot baseball groupies. Play balls!

August 3, 2012August 3, 2012

Total Recall [REVIEW]

Total Recall

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Son of a bitch.

My working life is now my life of my life.

Sometimes the pain is so much, that there is howling where none is wanted.

Was I kicked in the right ball?

Stabbed in the lower right gut, pain flashing like a flashing pain light?

Made like the Lohan, when she moans the “Coke has run out” moan?

No.

Life life = kidney stone.

Pee that looks like oil of the motor, pain that is for the yelling until the sweet, sweet Dilauded in my new vein hole makes me the smiling man.

Pain is for the drug-free. I like drugs.

Work life = “Total Recall.”

Really?

Has the farting monkey classic “Ed” already been re-animated?

Hollywood, if there was a God with a shit to give you would all have the ball pain that made me Mr. Vicodin.

I think watching Colin Ferrell, take on the Arnold head a major crap, would have been O.K. if I was still Mr. Vicodin.

Or Mr. Kossu. Or Mr. Lemon Skunk Sativa.

Just being Mr. Kimmo made me cry.

Plot? There was one, in 1990. And it was good.

Now, white bread crap fest.

“Total Recall” and no Mars. I see.

Now is the time to re-do, yet take out all that made the first to be made.

Smart!

Sony, way to be!

Replace Arnold with boring Colin – check.

Replace Sharon Stone with a boring (but hot) vampire chick – check.

Interesting stuff replaced with same old crap – check.

Three-breasted woman – check.

I have seen the trailer – I have seen the movie.

Sony, my butt is for the kissing… get back there, pucker up, I like tongue!

That is all to say about this nothing pile. No reason to exist, no reason to write about it.

Rent it – smoke the sweet Sativa – eat Cheetos – maybe nap. Check out the Beckin-butt (Kate Beckinsale).

But… that is all.

Please Odin, give me another stone for the passing before my eyeballs must hurt my brain with another crappy re-do. Please.

Now, that is all.

Kimmo Mustonenen – (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. You, the children, who want to watch movies for the money all day and night like Kimmo? This is the shit that is your 90%. Study dentistry. Less pain all around.

P.P.S. Olympics. Why do the flippy pre-pubescent girls get the ratings? Why not the beach ladies with the ass crack assaulting shorts? That is entertainment! And Ryan Seacrest must be stopped. Before he multiplies! Hey Sony, there’s an idea that’s not a remake. Assholes.