Guy Efrat – Behind the Proscenium

The Great Gatbsy

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

I have a changing of ways.

Too many movies have been battered by the tongues and other mouth parts of reviewers around me at screenings for the press.

My colleagues are dark clouds that also think they are smart clouds.

No fun.

They aren’t even clouds!

I went out to see a movie, paying with my own treasure, and sat amongst you people for thinking that my eye holes would see like your eye holes – that there would be no darkness.

I was stupid.

My first sadness – I have to see “The Great Gatsby” by über-hack Baz Luhrmann. He is stuck in most rememberings as the man who pulled down his pants, grabbed each butt-cheek, bent over, and sprayed “Moulin Rouge” on movie screens.

I don’t mind. I now know that to un-crapify “Gatsby” I just need to lap up Kossu. Then the real part of reality rips my knowledge – “closed” says the sign on the Theater Bar!

The Theater Bar is closed!

They are having a “We Love You Mr. Gatsby and Baz Luhrmann, too, So We Will Dress Up As Time Travelers From One of Gatsby’s Make Believe Movie Parties” party so… no public in the bar!

That is me! Madness! Anarchy!

I mind thoughts are now limp. No Kossu – my heart will have no armor and will be in pain.

Terrible pain.

Note to American Women – in the 1920’s, flapper women had no extra skin. They had a Depression coming and so practiced starving. They were hot as smoke in little flapper dresses.

Modern women have become hippos with the sucking of McDonald’s meat in through their lip gap. My eyes were scorched by a 21^st Century flapper herd moving through the lobby.

There was flapping – but it was giant arm sausages flapping against other bare skin.

So never, in my life time, dress this way again.

Now a review.

Baz Luhrmann had someone say, “Hey Baz! Let me tell you about a book my eyes read to me long ago! It is romantic. So listen to my mouth repeat it…”

So Baz never read the book.

The story opens with a sad Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire) being sad because he ran out of alcohol.

So he goes to a Sad Home and makes a Doctor listen to his bitching about rich people.

His brain wanders through history to a feminine product commercial with lots of curtains getting wind blown and sees his cousin Daisy Duke (Carey Mulligan – cute, but too much clothing). Her husband is a dick, so Peter goes to a party next door at Gay Disneyland Heaven – wanting the meet The Great Gatsby.

He does.

Then the fever dream (still very feverish) takes Peter on Mr. Gatsby’s Wild Ride (coming soon to Baz Luhrmann’s Gay Disneyland Heaven with even more CGI and 3-D!) and eat lunch at a barber shop that serves lobster (covered with tribbles and fine herbs – this shit is not made up).

A time travel band from 2013 plays music that makes no sense.

At this point – there is great joy… I found an old joint in my jacket pocket of “contraband-and-fun-times” and inhaled the sweet, sweet smoke from my mouth and into my mind-brain while in the Men’s Crapper – then bought Hot Tamales and a large Coke.

Because of my lucky joint, the last 40 minutes wasn’t too much suck.

Leonardo DiCaprio did not stink. He now looks almost 16 in human years, but was not as good as recently in “Unchain Django!”

There were other actors.

And car chases I remember making up in my “Only I See It” world in my mind when I was 5.

There was a cute dog eating from a plate.

And whores – and politicians (these are the same).

So, one thumb, saying with much relief, “Thank you Odin – this was not the great brain rape that was Moulin Rouge!”

The other thumb saying, “Mr. Luhrmann – if you are going to steal ideas, steal good ones – better movie for everyone!”

Both thumbs were much recovered in happiness when the smoke finally calmed all to calmness. If only I had Kossu in the first times and not had my vision assaulted by flapper cows.

At least they didn’t “moo” for Leonardo…

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

P.S. There is much for hoping! A better “Gatsby” is in the future – and a music filled musical! See the early rehearsals for “That’s Gatsby” and purge your brain of Luhrmann-cheese.

You’re welcome.

With wit, reviewed by Kimmo Mustonenen

“The Beaver” is nearly successful, despite the condition of his film script, which was capable I simply do not (cannot) to assume. I confess it is possible, too, that a man could be in the lowest point in the situation, to be healed, by project engineering his psyche into a hand puppet.

I am not it am possible safe, or even advisable to form a serious film over. What? We go through the film with Mel Gibson, which he carries one toothy beaver on its left hand, and which an entire lot of dis-believingness causes, so that we shift. Over.

Nevertheless is here different of Mel Gibson’s-fine achievements, an announcement that he is finally a great actor.

His personal life is in the ruins because of the illness of dipsomania (and Russians), which fights it still with (and with the Russian). He I thinks, which is responsible for his impudent acts and statements, that this is not the good man, who I saw many movies in.

Of, which I know over alcoholism, I believe that he goes through personality conflict that it is content on some days and by rage and crazy head on others used up, and that such changes are symptoms of the illness. Form your own diagnosis. I did.

It took something courage of master Jodie Foster to refer this film in Gibson. I believe that her Gibson knows, his good side and respect its talent. It was certainly the right choice for this material.

Everything, his troubles, summed by looking by her opening shot, an exhausted man, who swims on a raft in a swimming pool, his arms broad like crucified the Christian.

A voice (later uncovered, around the Beaver to be had, what?) informs us that this dark Walter is a man, thus deeply in the lowest point, it his family alienated and nearly his business destroyed. Bummer.

We meet his much-suffering Mrs. Meredith (Jodie Foster), its applied son carrier (Anton Yelchin) and its doubting colleagues. Meredith throws him finally out, not without love, but love with.

He buys a bottle, bangs into a motel, tried to kill himself and by the hand puppet (Beaver) is interrupted. It finds that the puppet has a voice, he lets it speak for him and begins to again enter his life of the previous past.

Brillianter even still, Gibson and author Kyle Killen do not form you the slightest attempt to use the illusion of ventriloquism; Gibson manipulates the puppet and speaks of its own mouth, in an admirable if unexplainable Cockney accent.

His life improves in kinds, which I leave, so that you discover, yourself. I leave you also to surprise around me if Matt Lauer in wait on a material “Today” program quite became with a hand puppet interview, as it does here. What?

A parallel plan refers carriers, which son also, whose gift, papers for schoolmates is to be written, who read, as if they were written by those class participants themselves. What?

The category Valedictorian asks it to write you a speech. If she’s (she’s a she, if that is unclear) that intelligently, why can’t write it? She’s however, that interesting to go through problems, the carriers in one discovers lateral history, bending those, to lead us away from the film’s through-line.

Which kind of the film with the same letters however “The Beaver” does not result to be? We never know.

But without “The Beaver” we would have never witnessed a sexual threesome, a hand puppet with including. Juicy.

Maintaining Gibson must be serious several times, with the production of this film, but don’t you think when filming this sex scene, the urge to suppress laugheter had too much pain? That is the deadly error in this sincere effort.

So well, as Gibson is, his character is gotten caught still between the tragedy of the man and the absurdity of “The Beaver”.

One thumb waiving high. Two, but for the missing of Ginnifer Goodwin. She should be in every film.

Even Fast and the Furious Five, which I will be reviewing soon.

Kimmo Mustonenen – Behind The Proscenium
Follow @KimmoMustonenen

Tag: Guy Efrat

The Great Gatsby [REVIEW]

The Beaver [REVIEW]