Brittney Diez – Behind the Proscenium

August 16, 2013

Lee Daniels’ The Butler

[Editor’s Note: Mr. Mustonenen has taken an unorthodox approach to this week’s review of “Lee Daniels’ The Butler.” We at Behind The Proscenium support his decision completely. If you have any talent and/or interest in film review and criticism, please e-mail us at intern@mankabros.com or let us know why you would be great for the job in the comments below Thank you for your continued support!]

Lee Daniels’ The Butler

With Wit, NOT Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

This is not reviewing a movie.

I did not see the movie and feel that to review what did not walk on my eyes would be like a lie, but with less evil.

More of leading you into a non-existence that would be now existing, but impossible.

Like Silver Lake, but with less neck-beard, skinny jean, fake eyeglass wearing hipster douching bags.

Or just as many. I don’t know. I didn’t see it.

Crazy.

So. I sit in my car, maximum bonging taking up my last minutes before to work I must go.

My lung sacks burned by the sweet, sweet smoke. My mind now has the “artist time” thoughts.

Also the “I’m for the chewing of popcorn” thoughts and “time for a shot of Kossu” thoughts and “that American girl has twin pendulous personalities” thoughts (nerds, I am referring to epic boob-dom – touch one/both sometime, it is awesome).

My ass crack is ready for theater seating.

Then my eyeballs are swung to the marquee. My mind now has not thoughts.

My mind is “WTF?”

Because my mind sees (with the eyeball help) “Lee Daniels’ The Butler.”

I am confusion.

I am to see “The Butler.” Who in Justin Bieber hell is Lee Daniels? And how does his name grow in front of a movie?

Tyler Perry may do this. He is the Queen of Drag and may command it.

I have no remembering of any other asshole with a name before a movie.

Oh. Cheech and Chong. But they share a genius brain and I think I am related.

Mr. Daniels man has an ego inflated like my stomach balloon after six Taco Bell Nacho Cheese Loco Tacos. Only with the taco orgy, I can later lift a butt cheek and deflate myself hideously.

Nothing could deflate Mr. Daniels. Proof?

His last asshole movie name was “Precious (Based on the Novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire).”

WTF? This man is an asshole. Or as we cry in Finland, “sir, you are an asshole.”

Lee Daniels, sir, you are an asshole.

By the time these thoughts choke for air in my car and mind, thinking and thinking (and hating), I am seeing that movie time for watching is in the past 30 minutes. Do I stay? Do I go?

Then I think, “if this dick-face made “Shark Night in 3D 2” I would not let my eyes watch.”

I speak the truth. What an ass-hat.

So, now, I must talk on the good. And the good was even gooder. Not cinema. No.

“Breaking Bad, Season 5B, Episode One.”

I will never be Mr. Meth-Head tweeker, spitting teeth into the breakfast and hair balls like the cat. Bad news. But why couldn’t Walter White (Bryan Cranston) had the botany hard on?

Good thing that is a no – because his ganj would be in my bowl, and I would be forever in the parking lot, pupils pointed at the marquee, thinking “Who the hell does this jerking off Lee Daniels think he is?”

There would still be much waiting for an answer… but MUCH less of the caring.

For concluding: Lee Daniels, my whirling butt-cherry is for the kissing. Now.

Next week – “The World’s End.” Nerds, start your engine motors!

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

May 18, 2012May 18, 2012

Battleship [REVIEW]

Battleship

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Once again, the youth is easy picking for the child predators.

Our youth be the memories.

The predator?

Hollywood.

Again.

B4 – Hit! But in an inappropriate way on my child thoughts.

J1 – Miss! But not for your lacking at the trying.

J10 – Oh, you sunk my Battleship memories of fun and now is just CGI shit-fest! (I slap my forehead and into the lake backwards off the dock I reel, “You sunk my childhood!”).

My excitement rises like a boil in my armpit.

What’s next? “Bingo – The Movie?”

So, it seems that sailors are the cool.

So cool that they must fight a Transformer-like army from a wet dream on the Michael Bay sheets.

Mom, his sheets need changing.

His camera moves even in the night. It never stops.

Would that he would go blind. Michael Bay.

And he had nothing to do with this – except inspire it – with his camera frantic wet penis dreams.

I hate him.

HATE HIM.

So, like a turd in a punchbowl, “Battleship” floats.

Like the turd, we wish for its existence to end.

Like the turd, its existence is demanded.

It’s in our damn punchbowl.

Fuck.

Plot? Really?

Are you kidding my brain?

Battleships. Other ships. Crazy alien shit.

Kaboom!!!!

Destroyers. Cruise missiles. Actors.

Kablooie!!!. Waves. More actors.

Fizzle.

I need a drink.

Burp.

Good things, though? Hells yeah!.

Rhianna (character irrelevant) in shrink-to-fit with a blow-dryer body suit carrying a gun as big as a redneck making up for his short penis… Hells yeah!

She is #1 in my Masturbation Memory Bank – with a bullet (take a seat Christina Aguilera).

Brooklyn Decker’s cleavage?

If heaven was of boobs, I’m in heaven.

Liam Neeson (character irrelevant, but higher rank – not in my MMB, but in Navy) growls like a bear.

Poor Liam. Wife dead from ski head rock, but will take any movie like a new generation Michael Caine.

I understand. Take the money.

But, son of a bitch buddy, not this!

You sunk my “give a shit!”

Could I write more? If, by the word paid, then yes.

But this is the summer movie shit-storm beginning. I will see the same thing. I will write the same thing. Greed will overtake my mind more than the Rhianna-lust.

Shit movie is shit movie.

This reviewer is drooling on the coming of “Prometheus.”

Wrong? I could be.

But the belief that summer BANG movies can be smarter than me? I hope. I believe.

As for “Battleship?” I am sad with the thought that for some retards, this turd will float.

No. Please.

And “no” again.

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

P.S. “American Idol.” Make me proud. White Guy With Guitar #5 FTW!!!!!! And then disappear quickly. That is the pattern.

August 26, 2011

Colombiana [REVIEW]

“Colombiana”

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

1992.

Colombia (cocaine, not District of).

The little nine-year Cataleya witnessed the murder of her parents. She manages to escape the slaughter with difficulty and takes refuge in the United States with Emilio, her mobster uncle.

(My mobster uncle was Jarkko – he drowned in a Norwegian fjord smuggling high proof liquor. No movies for Jarkko. Why Norway, Jarkko, why?)

Fifteen years later, she is working for him as a hit-person. Your business card, an orchid drawn on the chest of their victims is a message to the murderers of their parents, because Cataleya’s determination to take her revenge to its logical conclusion.

Even if it means sacrificing everything she loves.

Exactly like James Caan in “Thief”. But with a worse soundtrack (Tangerine Dream FTW!)

Written and produced by Luc Besson, “Colombiana” is one of those crappy ass movies that proves the French film a commercial for American coinage.

Or “The Birdcage” – but much less gay.

With an international cast, led by Zoe Saldana, Jordi Moll and Cliff Curtis, “Colombiana” has a technical bill as carefully as the rest of the production of Besson.

I stand by that statement.

The plot is predictable and tend to be known by all who read bestsellers or industrial enjoy thrillers which today are content to nurture the multiplex.

Zoe Saldana portrays Cataleya Restrepo, a girl so beautiful and smart (but no longer blue… I see you! “Avatar”, you lump heads… ), whose fortunes changed from a tragedy: her parents were murdered in Bogotá by order of a vicious drug dealer. Well mannered drug dealers are not so bad from what I hear.

Since then, Cataleya has learned to handle all types of weapons with two very different purposes.

On the one hand, shines the minions who work in the service of her uncle Emilio (Cliff Curtis).

For another, she spends her free time to settle criminals hoping to find the one that killed their parents, like we all would do, but less pretty.

In short, we have here yet another version of vigilante cool, capable of sacrificing one’s neighbor without entirely losing morality.

Otherwise, there is some relationship between this heroin and other Cataleya invented years ago by Besson: Nikita!

As usual in such films, the atmosphere is a key element. Since the filming took place between Paris, Chicago,Miami,New Orleans and Mexico City, is not surprising that the most characteristic of each of these urban environments come to light in the display.

Of the cities. For our eyeballs.

The director, Olivier Megaton, Olivier Fontana is really called, is part of the Team Besson since he directed “Transporter 3” (poop pile).

For more signs, was also the second unit director of “Hitman” (poop pile), which gives us the key to his specialty: persecutions, parkour (French people climbing walls like tweekers), shootings and, ultimately, all these more or less frenetic sequences that characterize the genre that we occupies.

Summary: Zoe Saldana is a fox.

“Columbiana”, though made by people who make poop piles, is not a poop pile. WHAT?!

One thumb has a stiffie, the other is neutral, like Switzerland without the snobbery.

Netflix for sure.

Save your money for Apollo 18. At the trailer, I made my own poop pile… a poop pile for good!

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

P.S. September 20^th brings us new Glee. Lindsay, don’t let me down.