Jordi Molla – Behind the Proscenium

Riddick

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

As summer ends, it begins.

In the southern of California, my new happy place, I smile for the heat is less than it was and yet women wear no clothes.

Win, win!

Although it is a time for a movie suckage-fest that makes my brain say “Eyeballs! No more of the film watching! I am becoming a mush brain!” the summer has many of the good.

As before when I said, auditioning but never working actress people in sun dresses are better for eyeballs than Cinema.

Hubba.

Then, my sadness is rising as my body is limping – the heat is for arrival.

Hot.

Heat.

100 degrees and my air conditioned cooler machine works like Baz Luhrmann directing “Platoon.” As in, my apartment was to be cooled by American soldiers in Vietnam dancing to Beyoncé music while wearing gold-lamé banana hammocks.

Or to say with less words, the AC didn’t work.

My taint is a jungle. Steaming. Sweaty. With an itch that I fear to scratch.

Like “Riddick.”

The last of the movies that summer spits up into the multi-plex.

Just when good movie time is to begin again – movie Spring in Fall – the last drooling retard movie must stumble into the theater.

“Come on in Riddick – I can handle your drool-ish suck.”

But wait… I am in for the surprising! WTF?

I am all for “Riddick”!

Confession – I made love to “Pitch Black” (beautiful dreams). Radha Mitchell was to be my Queen (before even Ginnifer Goodwin).

Then my thumbs drooped for “The Chronicles of Riddick” (that had as much to do with “Pitch Black” as American soldiers in gold-lamé banana hammocks, etc., etc.).

I no exciting thoughts had in my mind for the new one.

Wrong. Yes, there is the admission.

Plot? Ka-boom!!! Good ka-boom.

Here goes (give me the forgiving, for this is short, as the spoilage must be avoided):

Riddick (Vin Diesel) – post crappy “Chronicles” – is betrayed by his own people and left for dead on a desolate, sun-scorched planet.

There is nothing to do… but then come on forces to mess with Riddick and battle the alien predators that beset him. Because the alien predators beset everybody.

These are not the alien predators with dreadlocks. These have no sense of humor and would easily lose to Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Riddick waits until he is stronger than ever and a team of bounty hunters in the universe can challenge to open hunting him.

While a devastating storm comes raging, swears the bad-ass soldiers of misfortune (clever!) that they will only leave the planet if they have the head of Riddick in a box – like the end of “Se7en” says Team Better Clothes Boss Johns (Matt Nable).

But with his enemy exactly where he wants, Riddick start his own merciless revenge.

Only he can pave the way to return to home planet Furya back. The leader of Team We Don’t Shave (Jordi Molla) is also in the way.

The good?

EVERYTHING!

Especially the toughest ass-kick woman on seven solar systems, Dahl (Katee Sackhoff). Maybe more solar systems.

I pulled seven from the hole behind my jungle taint. And Riddick kills slimy alien monster bastards with his hands and other appendages.

Damn straight.

Then there is more alien killing, more human killing, and a big ass storm!

Yeehaw!!!

So, two thumbs reaching up to the planet where on day I will frolic with Radha Mitchell – even though the heat makes me wilt like the Swedes in modern warfare (oh, that’s right Sweden, you’re neutral – or maybe…NEUTERED!).

I was too tired to smoke the sweet, sweet smoke and too much thirsty to drink other than bubbly sugar water and I still want to see “Riddick” three more times.

And not just for the air conditioning. If for that, I would see it ten more.

Go, now. Or better yet, go yesterday – then comment and say how much you loved “Riddick” – and missed Radha Mitchell.

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

P.S. Only four more episodes of “Breaking Bad.” I am not ready for an ending to come. My Sunday’s will more have Skinny Pete and Badger. No more Saul. No more Jesse. Who on my television screen will yell “Yo, bitch!”? My face is in the shape of sad. I will miss you, Walter White. Marie, I will not miss you, so go to hell.

“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.

Tag: Jordi Molla

Riddick [REVIEW]

Colombiana [REVIEW]