Kevin Dunn – Behind the Proscenium

April 11, 2014April 11, 2014

Draft Day [REVIEW]

Draft Day

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

It is almost the time when fretting must be done.

Worry.

Fret.

The time of “cinema suck.” Summer movie blitz.

Damn… but what is to happen must be happening – it is the way of the world.

But now is Draft Day.

The sport called by some in Europe as “hand egg” but in America is “Football” and done in the fall has a time (in the spring) that comes for American college graduates with giant muscle bodies to be drafted for the game – from crappiest of teams to the best.

Like in junior high, where my brother Olli was always picked last for “Pin The Fish on the Retard” (number one game in Finland!).

Plot? Yes!

Sonny Weaver, Jr. (Kevin Costner), the General Manager of the first picking Cleveland Browns. The National Footballer draft is coming and Sonny needs to fix his draft place and pick the best swollen muscle runner for the footballing.

It is not easy.

There is wheeling, then the dealing, then the pregnant girlfriend (Jennifer Garner). The main coach-man (Denis Leary) is an asshole. The owner (Frank Langella) is a bigger of asshole.

So, if this movie is for believing, they should call themselves the National Asshole League.

There is lots of time for the worrying with grumpy faces on everyone.

There are several thousand phones calling other phones.

And then there is the yelling.

And new things are learned – most important of all is that the game of footballing is much more for excitement than watching how the game of footballing gets made.

Moneyball for baseball is like this movie.

Someday will be the making of a good film about sports building because that movie will be about the greatest game of all – hockey.

Until that joyous of all days we must have Draft Day.

Verdict: One thumb sideways, the other also asleep. There no Transformers (thank Odin!) and no explosions (also good). And no car chases.

Wait until is it Netflix time to see this thing. Then send the money you saved to me. I deserve it.

Remember… summer is coming.

Damn.

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

P.S. Ice Hockey Play for Marbles (All of Them) and The Cup Time is now almost with us. My love for Teemu Selänne is growing even bigger if that is a possibility. I have no love for Ducks, yet Teemu makes my non-Duck love disappear. That is what a Finnish Superman does to us. And me.

P.P.S. Game of Thrones. Damn. Arya is in my night time nightmares now. Creepy kid. Watch it instead of Draft Day. You will thank me again.

September 9, 2011September 9, 2011

Warrior [REVIEW]

“Warrior”

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Things are getting heavy.

Summer is at an almost end.

If not for 3D Sharks, I would be singing the award movie song – like internet Karaoke.

Not just yet!

Ass kicking flies from the screen – and into your head.

And it has a name:

“Warrior”.

From time to time, by the merest chance, you come across a film carried by the combat sport that nevertheless manages to find the right balance between drama and action and more importantly (if you’re REALLY lucky), with more drama than action that it becomes a backdrop for everything else.

And then the action has it’s own drama, which makes the action dramatic-er. For it is only when the fighting is justified by a compelling scenario that they become emotionally more intense and rewarding.

Right? Right.

“Warrior” refers to a world of mixed martial arts where the gladiators of the modern clash in a hexagonal cage both feet on the ground, due to gravity.

The creation of an international tournament imagination, “Sparta”, will on the same trajectory Paddy (Nick Nolte), Brendan (Joel Edgerton) and Tom Conlon (Tom Hardy), which are all part of a family torn apart and removed in the past through an excess of favoritism and neglect.

I’m not afraid to say that.

Tom resurfaced in the company to get the help of his father, recovering alcoholic in passing (not recovering in real life), to the physical and mental training for participation in the tournament.

In parallel, Brendan returns sweat in the halls of fighting in the hope of winning the award of $5 million to restore interest in life to his family in need.

I could restore my own interest in life for much less that $5 million – settling for $1.5. Maybe just $1.

However, as would more or less expected, although these two mad dogs will face some of the toughest fighters that MMA has created, the real battle appears to be in them. At each other.

Paddy is fighting for the forgiveness of his son, Tom is fighting to prove to himself that he is strong physically and mentally, and Brendan is struggling to reconcile with his family.

I was fighting the popcorn (note to theater managers – melted butter flavored Crisco is not a substitute for real butter. My mouth is stuck together still with a bad 70’s bathhouse flavor.).

Each brother has his own reasons respectable to face combat, reasons that will divide the audience when it comes time to choose to support one or other of the brother’s finalists.

For its part, the scenario is almost epic, presented in a very committed. Almost epic. Remember this.

Gradually, through his dialogues, we see the past events of this family torn apart and motivations of characters to keep such hatred in them are revealed gradually. This drama is of course made possible and given credibility by the immense talent of these three headliners.

All three, each in their ways, infusing their characters an unwavering charisma. Wavering charisma just wouldn’t cut it and makes sit-coms intolerable.

Nick Nolte had not been touched since the long, very long years (literally – his last mug-shot has him stuck to the internet porn now, and luckily it is free), Tom Hardy, appearing more monstrous than ever physically (biceps!), proves once again that the method of the Method Acting has not finished dazzle us, and in between, Joel Edgerton has not to be ashamed of its performance even if he has to work extra hard not to give way completely opposite to its partners, and in doing so, not suck too much.

Only on the horizon, the role of Jennifer Morrison is under-exploited (Captain Kirk’s mom!) and Nick Nolte seems to have been somewhat forgotten in the last third.

The final could also have been treated differently but how to avoid clichés with a subject that is a cliché in itself (two brothers confronting end up in the same tournament). But a cliché used in the service of a cliché within a cliché? Genius.

Therefore it is appropriate to say that overall, the director is doing very well.

Although much entertained (still angry at the popcorn – screw you, Crisco!) my thumbs aren’t engaged to the level of my brain stem.

Still, the thumbs are fighting gravity to the sky.

“Warrior” is cool.

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

P.S. My mind wanders around Patty Smyth. This would make a better movie:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIDaBF8LILk

The dancers know Bob Fosse Kung Fu!!!!!!

P.P.S. (What is the rule?) Fall TV! Fringe in two weeks! Where is Peter? Or… where isn’t he?!? Guesses are appreciated!

June 28, 2011

Transformers: Dark Of The Moon

Transformers: Dark Of The Moon

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

First, a discredit: I love Megan Fox (Jennifer’s Body – yowza! I was almost made to forgot Ginnifer Goodwin!).

And Shia LeBoeuf now credit can be given for the giving of the meat(!) while she was with her 90210 husband?

Not cool, Shia… not cool.

Now to the reviewing.

Michael Bay has been a director always who has the lowest standard given free rein in his films.

Feminine curves (these are good), the delight in the perfectly shaped poses from the most daring of view (that’s right), the male senses, polished stainless bodies that cast a sea of lens flare into the cameras (look out JJ Abrams!) and real heroes in uniform who carry the backlight in distinctive silhouettes.

The real guy who sleeps in each one of us suggests that it displays them on the hairy chest and shouts out a fervent Tarzan screaming in the world (much like me).

But while the introverted and sensitive wearer scrapes with his pencil on his forehead and dismisses a disillusioned sigh (my brother, Jarri, he is a real forehead pencil scraper).

Here is Michael Bay talking: “A real guy needs a movie with testosterone in the bloodstream, and an eye for the essentials: cars, butts, aliens (not in that order)!”

Transformers the 3rd: Dark of the Moon (Lazer Floyd!) is the film revelation and epileptic overkill, which the audience and the cinema owners were hoping for so long. The stylized action vindicated the over-priced 3D effect, and vice versa. The humor may now again be laughed heartily without interfering on the borderline banality of the second part.

Transformers the 3rd takes a whopping 157 minutes and operates on a broad level. Megan Fox’s ass and marble belly while leaving a gaping hole (don’t even think it, Shia), but Rosie Huntington-Whiteley gazelle legs and an absence of self-esteem affects what sexy outfits, makes the loss more than up for it (almost, but I admit that she is lengthy!)

Michael Bay will never grow up and his camera never not move and that’s why we love him?

What?

Since it not hurt that the series itself basically just over and over and fail to real surprises. The sensitive and thoughtful boy agrees, in some respects (to be sure, I’ll ask brother Jarri later).

The 3D effect is due to the native style handsomely turned out – but just as volatile as the paint on the Autobots. Also, the content of amateurism from Transformers 2 will be largely spared.

If you still remember the slogan from the second film recalls says that “Only a Prime can kill a Prime” – which is to capture the action of the third part in full: “Only a Prime can resurrect a Prime.”

Knowing about these facts once swallowed, the rest of the film stripped of leaves before the mind’s eye and the viewer is unaffected from surprises. But the Transformers movies were anyway never looked for their offense, at least, is an old saying – so old as to be not understandable.

Nevertheless, a fairly logical and understandable sequence of actions will be gratefully accepted. The more effortless a film executes its structural plot points, the more positive the effect on the film – what Bay’s third try masters solid.

But the fact remains that the film series has reached a dead end. The same hero stereotype, the same car brands, the same threats, same jokes.

With the new Shia LaBeouf (asshole!) again on the site itself needs love are back at 0. It was a physical impossibility, that could turn Transformers the 3rd worse than its immediate predecessor – and this is proven correct.

But as B.B. King sang, “the thrill is gone”, Michael Bay‘s robot toys have lost their appeal, what remains is a pile of crap metal that sparkles in sunlight and impressed by its size – but no more.

Size doesn’t matter. Which is what Megan probably said to the Shia meat (Carey Mulligan, too). We can dream.

Kimmo Mustonene (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. Once again, The Glee Project! I’m rooting for the munchkin and the bitch! You?