Brandon Trost – Behind the Proscenium

I have not been up for the writing of things.

People die.

It’s what we are supposed to do.

When we are old and shaking, pooping pants and falling over, forgetting who you are but remembering what should be un-remembered – it is time to die.

I get this.

Sometimes, cancer lands on your face and God wants your chin.

Death is close then.

Just ask Roger Ebert.

My eyes had the squirts like a little girl when his death arrived.

He was my hero – watch him as he goes (thank you Foo Fighters!) Even with a giant Kossu mouth swallow and lung bag full of kush, my writing was never like The Ebert.

He was the shit. Read this (http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/to-the-wonder-2013) and then choke on your “Ebert was not the shit” argument.

Yes… choke on it.

Like a choking little bitch.

I’ll wait.

Now for a review.

The Lords of Salem

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Rob Zombie is not the man his name says he is to be.

Not an extra in the great TV show “The Dead Are Walking Around.” Not stuck in Jamaican voodoo haze, much like myself when brain is high centered on the speed bump of sweet, sweet bong smoke (that I love, even with the drool-face I make).

No.

Zombie makes movies.

Some good. Some bad.

Most good-bad existing side by side, like a twin – with no skin sharing.

Now Mr. Zombie is back with “The Lords of Salem.”

The good? Sherri Moon Zombie.

Although she is getting long teeth, she still can stir my man thing and start the underwear party.

Her acting is really not anything. Nothing better (her hotness remains), nothing worse (the underwear party continues).

She plays a DJ who is given the wax for spinning from Satan’s house band. This brings evil because it plays itself backwards (which in days of the past would kill Paul McCartney – if only now it would result in immediate Justin Beiber death… that would be cool).

The band gets back together, but VH1 Classic is not to be seen. There is Hell to pay. Pay to play – and the like.

Zombie makes us for the creep with skin crawling in ways that it wasn’t meant to crawl. Evil is abounding. Death is cheap and easily available.

If for a plot you give shit then go see “Oblivion” (since it has plots taken from every sci-fi movie ever made).

If you want a scare to smack your brain until you squirt in to your chonies – this is the poop squirter for you.

So, my thumbs are confused. When compared to good movies, this is not good.

When compared to others in the horror held up to comparison? Good.

Damn good.

So, since you are reading this you give a horror crap. So go see “The Lords of Salem.”

Before the seeing, do NOT inhale too much of the beautiful smoke. Paranoia will explode your head.

You have been warned.

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

P.S. The world is back-assward. Ebert is dead. Rex Reed still breaths (and wastes) perfectly good oxygen. Depeche Mode (for a bunch of pansy-men whining like babies with tiny baby problems) got one right – listen to “Blasphemous Rumors” and think on this. Rex Reed lives. Son of a bitch.

Please list the best film smart guy reviewer people for the best reading in my future in the Comments below.

P.P.S. “Game of Thrones” is a cooler movie on TV than most movies that are movies. With boobs. Damn!

Ghost Rider: Spirit Of Vengeance

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Many apologies for the writing lack for two weeks.

Fluffy the Wonder Ferret, greatest animal in history, crossed the Rainbow Bridgeand now feasts on ferret food with Jesus – and other ferrets who also have caught the death.

I took time away from the critic things.

I cried, baby style. Then I cried again.

Why?

Because on the returning to work I found I get to review “Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance.”

Who is the Ghost Rider?

Did you see even the first one?

He is Marvel’s darkest hero. A hell of a biker (joke!), a sort of hybrid man-demon who fights with the forces of Lucifer as the good guy. This is with a burning skull head and no face – which is cool after many sweet, sweet bong loads.

Without the bonging, not so much.

Remember?

Or, like me, did you erase your mind of the first one? I’ll refresh you.

Once Johnny Blaze sold his soul to the devil, and won only sufferer until he managed to outwit Satan similarly and to keep the forces of the Riders for themselves to use them for good.

This confuses.

Remember?

Ends approximately in the way “Ghost Rider” to unleash the first attempt in the year 2007, the demonic biker on the big screen. Managed to cartoonish staging it but not really convincing.

Too much slapstick, romance and – if one disregards the Lucifer-esque performance by Peter Fonda – an opponent who seemed so threatening, like a teen boy-band member

Whether it should then be a sequel, especially under the contribute by Nicolas Cage, was long doubtful until the end – but were still 75 million reasons to shoot a sequel, and let heat with Cage-head inflamed again over the marble pavement (on a motorcycle. No shit!).

Plot? Here we go!

This time is somewhere in Eastern Europe, a sect of devil worshipers after a boy (Fergus Riordan) go, which brings extraordinary occult powers in itself.

To defend this guy, a secret society of warrior monks (bad-assery!) swore. The Satanists, led by its top guru (Ciaran Hinds) have taken hold of the boy. Now, only the Ghost Rider can help.

Johnny Blaze (I was blazed, let me tell you) lives in seclusion, however, and would again be a demon in any way. Moreau (Idris Elba), one of the warrior monks, succeeds him then but still convincing – after all, it’s again about beating the devil’s trick – and off you go.

Wheee!

Even if one wants to be on the first part, it had at least still something of a plot and a few original ideas.

Peter Fonda was also off a fabulously smug Lucifer, the lovely Eva Mendes (schwing!) is already a well-bred eye-catching and Sam Elliott’s (“the Dude abides”!) performances were always kind of cult.

All this gave the previous charm, something that “Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance” completely lacks.

The figures, like Idris Elba, Ciaran Hinds and even Christopher Lambert in a brief guest appearance, get far too little opportunity which would be able to see to it. Right? Right.

So, this Ghost Rider gets one limp thumb – limp as Fluffy the Wonder Ferret before the rigor mortis gave him a stiff.

At least it wasn’t in 3-D (the movie – ferrets are always in 3-D). I’m off to smoke for Fluffy and for more the crying…

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

P.S. “American Idol” needs more hot chicks – and less passing out during “Hollywood Week.” Or more passing out. I’m undecided. But definitely more hot chicks.

Tag: Brandon Trost

The Lords Of Salem [REVIEW]

Ghost Rider: Spirit Of Vengeance [REVIEW]