Kyrle Lendhoffer – Page 3 – Behind the Proscenium

April 19, 2013

The Lords Of Salem [REVIEW]

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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!

March 1, 2013

Jack the Giant Slayer [REVIEW]

Jack the Giant Slayer

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Times have hard.

We know this.

Hollywood then shows us.

We watch The Mr. Oscar Show and strange face “Look At Me, I Am Also Smug Guy Who Wants To Sing In Your Face” person is on hourly, for what is to me, also forever.

Pretty people also are staging to the T.V., some with awards, more with sadness in their brain thoughts.

On the carpet, all women admit to wearing the clothes of someone else – yet none of the carpet questioning people feel the creeps.

This is Hollywood.

This is the Academy Awards.

This review is “Jack The Giant Slayer.”

It needs not to worry about the Academy Awards.

Ever.

But, even though winning is not to be foreseen – this is good for the film worker people. If for to win, they would have to talk to “Smug Guy Who Was Upstaged By Captain Kirk” which would be the suck.

But all is not bad. Really.

First, I, Kimmo, will not use Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum in the film review.

All critics who do – or use any variable of the 4-F’s – is of the review school hack class.

No Fee, Fi, Fo, Fun for good review.

No Fe, Fi, Fo, Dumb for bad review.

No Fee, Fi, Foo, Meh for a review tweener.

This reviewer (though many times with drunks and stoned) is not of laziness.

So review I must.

Plot? Fe, Fi, Fo, YES! Damn, it was too much to not do.

Plot – Jack is a kid with stories talked to his ear hole by Dad (look out Dad! Here comes the plague!).

Isabella is a kid who has the same stories (look out Mom! Etc). and grows up to be hot.

In real life, Jack (Nicholas Hoult) got to diddle Jennifer Lawrence and motor-boat her rack (for this, Hoult deserves Lifetime Achievement Award). Then, she, Jennifer, was too good for a bean kid.

To continue, hot Isabella (Eleanor Tomlinson) is now fap fantasy for Roderick (Stanley Tucci – with creepy sameness inside from “The Lovely Boner”) who is shopping for the Magic Crown that lets the owner control Giants – people who are taller than Abraham Lincoln (see review).

Jack does stuff, like slaying Giants, but damn spoiler title told you that already.

The move is in the land of Not Bad.

CGI Giants are CGI from the days of Tecmo Bowl Nintendo. Fun after bong sucking, fun after the beer chug, cheesy in my real reality.

The 3D was realistic as to make me barf. Yes, the 3D, not the too much overdrunk beer and stale Raisonettes.

I stand by this statement.

For you readers with bigger brains, see the ripped off for this movie – “Trollhunter.” This move is more better than “Jack blah blah blah” in the way that all of Scandinavia (minus Sweden) is superior to Los Angeles (except for the weather – so I really hate Scandinavia, I guess – my mind is confusion).

The Trolls are better computer beasts than the Giants – although the Giants have more lines.

So one and a half thumbs in the atmosphere. There is enjoyment.

I expected a major suck (like that damn Twilight turd-fest) and the suck did not appear.

The secret to liking a film (I’m now thinking) is to expect it to be full of the horrible.

This did not work for the Twilight films, but seem to work for all else.

I will continue this film experiment – since summer is coming, with its crap-storm of film stink. Here is hoping my expecting is not my reality.

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

P.S. It is almost again the time for baseballs! I don’t have understanding for the game so much, but love Dodger Dogs – and cold beer that is more money worth than gold in its cost. This game is not hockey (the greatest of all since it was played by God Himself), but not bad for steroid boys with bats. Not to mention hot baseball groupies. Play balls!

December 7, 2012November 27, 2017

Lincoln [REVIEW]

Lincoln

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Nothing can bring the fear.

Nothing like the season of the fjord.

We are not lucky (unlucky) in fjords.

We are not Norway.

Sweden not, too, as well (Swedes are pussies so this is in the OK zone).

Yet the tragedy comes. Like winter.

More family drowning while trying to defeat cod.

The cod fight so hard, the winning may never happen.

Yet, I will eat their deep fried flesh. And the herring’s picked bodies.

I am a Finn.

I will fight the fish.

And I will eat.

Why all of this?

Another Mustonenen down. In the drink. Davey Jones’ locker, breathing water until the end.

Sadness makes my brain say “Hells no, ‘Silver Linings Playbook’, when my family has a dead member. Bradley Cooper is still an asshole. And Jennifer Lawrence cannot be lusted after without Jesus being bummed. Thanks for the cock block Jesus.”

So, “Lincoln.”

Plot? Are you giving me the kids?

In the Middle Ages, America chose its leader by height. Lincoln was taller than hell. So he became King of America.

Lincoln (Daniel Day-Lewis) used his height to look down (like a God) and could somehow read the thoughts of those who were his enemies/friends.

Except he married The Flying Nun before she became annoying (retards, look up the reference).

Finally, America likes her. They really, really like her. But she is a bitch ass shrew. With hair from “Star Wars – Episode 4” (if you’re a nerd who has never kissed a girl or tasted a teat – to real people just damn “Star Wars”).

Anyway, the tallest man in America (who always had a helium suck before talking – squeak – where was James Earl Jones?) held the cards for political poker.

Then the entire movie started to seem like “Midnight Poker” on ESPN. With fake facial hair that could an automobile be purchased.

Luckily, an alcoholic puff-ball named James Spader showed up to make me want to have the drinking of the Kossu and the sweet, sweet smoke.

I had both.

And Tommy Lee Jones had the best hair in the America since Phil Spector. Yet there were no restaurant deaths. Too bad. His love for his woman made things boring.

So, tons of bad hair of the face.

Sweet Jesus, has nothing advanced since “Gettysburg” (worst face hair ever!)?

And casting Bruce McGill… genius, if only for his appearance in best history ever, “FDR: American Badass.” My world would have been completed if he only said, face to camera – “He’s Abraham Lincoln, motherfucker!”

Steven Spielberg has no balls. I believe they belong to Amy Irving.

Thumbs? Pretty damn up. Daniel Day-Lewis plays tall better than any man since Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in “Game of Death.”

I truly in my mind believe that the tallest man (so the greatest man) in America was Abraham Lincoln. He allowed black people to talk and kung-fu Bruce Lee in the chest.

It is a weave that does tangle that American cinema weaves.

My mind is mush. I go back and forth between great cinema and another Finnish family death.

Oh well, Finland can take it in the anal pore. I am an American now and forever. And if tall people rule – well, then Daniel Day-Lewis is my leader forever. He stayed up late and told stories.

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

P.S. “Game of Thrones” in three, maybe four months. My excitement hurts. Winter is coming! If my words have no meaning then your mind is potato. Seriously.

November 16, 2012November 16, 2012

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2

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The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Son of a bitch.

Damn you, Mayans.

I, and the Earth, have lived to see what we wish the seeing of would not have happened.

Why not the end?

Sometimes the end is better than the being. But no.

My eyeballs have made my brain see “The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2“. Electric Boogaloo.

That would have been the cool.

Odin. I have always been in service.

Oh, God of Cargo, I follow.

Since you were on the tree Yggdrasil attached to find the truth, to now.

But the pain.

Oh, Odin, the pain.

My eyes have been rubbed in shit. And that shit is “ The Twilight Saga: Breaking blah blah blah blah blah blah“.

Story? Really?

If this is for your interest for the reading there are many things:

1) I love this shit. Like the film Kimmo, like me, or you will the for the stalking like my 75 cats do to the poor back yard birds (this is for middle-age Twi-Fraus).

2) I love this shit. Like the film Kimmo, like me, because this was the first time that my parts that make of me a girl gave me a squirm – whatever team. Best movie since “Citizen Kane” or “The Notebook” (teenage Twi-tards – sorry for making the Citizen Kane reference – your tiny brains explode like insignificant lady fingers).

3) I love this shit. Like the film Kimmo. If I disagree my girlfriend handjobs may cease immediately (the horror – poor boyfriends of crazy chicks liking this thing movie crap).

4) This is stupid. Damn bad CGI movie mess that makes the smart dumb, and the rest shake the head and reach for the Kossu (normal people).

Here is some plot.

After the birth of her daughter, Renesmee, Bella slowly adapts to his new life with the help of vampire Edward.

Feeling threatened by the birth of a new genre, the Volturi declare war on the family Cullen.

To prepare their defense, Cullen will travel the world to bring together families and allied vampires try to push the Volturi in a final confrontation.

Wow! Wait, what?

Have there been worse films to let in my mind?

Of course, the first 500 movies of this franchise of suck.

“Freddie Got Fingered.”

Maybe that is the total. My brain reels. I wish for the end.

Odin, I hate for the being of the negative. But I knew.

The sweet smoke didn’t make things better.

The Kossu only brought sadness.

So, now, here we are. What more to say?

Two thumbs waiting for the end. For Ragnarok, if the Mayans cannot get their poop in order. Drooping down, waiting for the end.

At least this stream of shit is at an end (thoughts after visiting Acapulco – four days of hell – though Twilight was longer and hurt more).

You will see it if you want. If not, then not to see. Your minds are already in place for a decision. I cannot change that.

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

P.S. “Fringe” makes no sense. Yet I do not care in my mind. The Observers are well dressed. The future should be so cool.

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 1 [REVIEW]

October 26, 2012

Cloud Atlas [REVIEW]

Cloud Atlas

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

There are times when the sweet, sweet smoke must be smoked before the mind can accept strange.

You think “I understand anything and have the munchies.”

Other times Kossu is demanded for drink – sense must be made but you are more “I pretend to get it” and then “more Kossu, please” until the drunkening is achieved.

Now there is the “Cloud Atlas.”

Crazy novel.

Crazier film.

I must be for the admitting that my brain was blown.

Not by gunshot (not yet, thank Odin).

Not by crack whore (thanks again).

But by cinema.

Not since “Zardoz” has there been so much “huh?” in my thinking parts.

Let me explanation for you.

Tom Hanks plays many character people, some with latex (on his face, perverts!).

Halle Barry has also the many latex people to be – but not like Tom, she has bigger boobs.

Tom IS getting moobs, however, because he is getting the olds.

It is all of mankind’s future. Moobs. For men.

That is not discussed in the film.

Plot? You let me in the know – I was idea-less. I’ll try.

There are many stories, in many orders, none for the explaining (my mind is whacked).

First, the way back in the South Pacific and Hanks is a sailor man.

Then forward to the near past – we’re in England and guys argue about PBS music.

Then the really near past in San Francisco with Berry and her love puppies bouncing and in the investigation mode.

Then today with an old drooler stuck in the pre-morgue unhappily (stay off his lawn!).

Then the way future where ‘droids are less cool than “Star Wars” and are Korean-ese but played by white people (I think – CGI would make it possible).

Then, the way way future, where Hanks and Berry are post-apocalyptic – yet her headlamps still are ample.

Which is good.

Then back and forth and back and forth in time and space and then I doubt my own brain thoughts.

This is directed by Tom Tykwer (“You Better Run, Lola”) and the Brothers Wachowski (“Matrix” cool – other stuff is the suck) and one brother is a girl.

No wonder my thoughts cannot hug what my eyeballs tell them is real. For it is unreal.

So, plot? So you tell me.

But great? Pretty damn so.

My mind flies like a 9 year old boy seeing his first of the female nakedness – I am not understanding yet am standing in awe (but without the pants bone).

Both are terrific and at the time of seeing not understandable.

Yet again I must see. And again. Until I am busted (embarrassing when father finds your Playboy stash – but this film makes you cool, not shamed).

Two thumbs are in the air! What the hell did they see? A “wow, cool, what?” movie that is cool.

Hells yeah. I will see this many times, with the Cheetos and weed to make the understanding believable. It is the only way.

Go to your dispensary. Grab your pipe. Go see “Cloud Atlas.”

Really.

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

P.S. “American Horror Story – Asylum” is coooool. Adam Levine gets what he (for his Marooning 5 crimes) deserves. I smiled big!

October 19, 2012

Paranormal Activity 4 [REVIEW]

Paranormal Activity 4

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

*****SPOILER ALERT*****

Where could this possibly go?

#1 was near past.

#2 was near past and nearer past.

#3 was way back past.

#4 is the now (powered by iPhone and laptop).

More found footage.

More of the crazy that would put my body in a hotel but doesn’t affect dumb people.

My ears say a demon is walking around the house I run like a girl.

A fast girl!

If you are not having the viewing experience of “Paranormal Activity 1, 2, 3” read this no further. And why would you read about 4 if you haven’t seen the first three?

Are you drunk?

Are you high?

If “no” is answered get drunk or high and see 1 and 3 – read about 2 online (crap-fest I am wishing not to talk about, so I won’t – 2 sucked so hard it slurped and messed with the dog – no kidding).

Plot? Same as always.

As my fingers typed “Paranormal Activity 4” is the now time – if November 2011 is kind of the now time. No more California, but Nevada is where is Demon-town now. Henderson.

Mom and Dad (generic actors), cute adopted (holy sheet!) youngest Wyatt (Aiden Lovekamp), and hot (but of illegal young age, crap) Alex (Kathryn Newton). She is into the video of everything which is annoying.

All is happy… then creepiest of all kids, Robbie (Brady Allen) moves into the next door. He likes to shake hands, the freaky weirdo!

And he has a fork.

Alex computer talks with her sort of boyfriend Ben (Matt Shively). He sees creepy shit in the background places.

The coolest character is Kinect. You will see the meaning of this in the movie. Disco front room, with demon!

So, Paranormal checklist:

Creepy shadows doing the creeper in the background – check.

Something normal jumps into screen view, making you do a Cola spill on reviewer in front of you (and wow, was he pissed)– check.

Characters not running away screaming but walking TOWARDS demon sounds – check.

Characters getting a lethal smack down like from the Shaq in his prime – check (poor Mom).

Loud footsteps like from the fat kid in the apartment of my upstairs – check.

Katie – check.

Someone’s neck broken, Chuck Norris style – check.

People being dragged around by unseen Demon strongman – check.

Sleeping person sheet removal with not waking- check.

Did I on the checklist miss anything? Add them to the comments below.

So, two really disappointed thumbs hanging down.

The want for good was there, just not the good. Even the Spanish crap crazy stuff after credit time was “meh.”

I was thinking series full circle coolness, but no. Just set up for sequel after sequel after sequel after sequel. A damn shame.

Save your money for the buying of smoke and Cheetos – let this be a mind film all of your own making in your head. It will be better than “Paranormal Activity 4”. Truth.

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

P.S. “Revolution” makes no sense. And it is the suckage for acting. And writing. Off the DVR forever! Suck it, “Revolution”!

October 12, 2012

Sinister [REVIEW]

Sinister

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Horror in my belly pulls my testes into itself.

That is the point.

Horror must make one as uncomfortableness than one can feel.

It is awesome.

It sucks.

It hurts so good that in the pants the shitting is welcomed.

Yes, that happens.

Unless the movie is the suck. Then the horror is not so horrible. Then the horror is the shit.

Shit, because not horrible. But still in the eyes. The eyes hold onto the pain.

But still…

“Sinister.”

There are grisly murders at the property of the Ellison guy (Ethan Hawke) but the deaths and the disappearance of another daughter (his family?) are with a murder series linked.

Found footage (fuck you, Paranormal Activitiy!)

Then there are slayings and abductions, but only for the children. Parents are for the dying.

But then the writer’s nightmares are worse than the writing.

WTF?!?

Horror is the suck. Nothing is new. Best movie to scare a turd out of me is “The Exorcist“. The like will never again be seen. First half hour, getting to know the family. THEN the shit hits the fan.

We now care!

All of the new shit – horror porn. People ripped apart. Crazy Saw guy making people die as assholes. “Final Destination” bringing back Rube Goldberg to America (if Rube Goldberg is over your head kill yourself now, retard).

And then the found footage shit. Thanks “Blair Witch Project.” Style over good any day.

Crap.

Yet I still liked “Cloverfield“. Found footage doesn’t always swallow the suck.

Anyway, the fact that I thought Ethan Hawke was really Kevin Dillon made me think the dumb is now part of my forever mind. Son of a bitch.

So, one thumb totally confused, wishing it had to see “Argo.” The other thumb wondering where fucking hockey is.

I don’t get it. Play the games. The owners won last time, but now they must fight again? I wish I had a gun. One round for the Bettman. Then the rest for the owners. I kill you all.

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

P.S. “Nashville” is the shit. That Hayden Dwarf chick is the hot. I would do her twice.

September 21, 2012September 21, 2012

Trouble With The Curve [REVIEW]

Trouble With The Curve

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Movies follow my life now.

Not as much as the “Millionaire Slum Dog,” but close.

Just the last week of my happening comes “The Master” and what the crazy Cruise/Travolta types tried to do when they attempted my mind screwing.

Now this.

Clint Eastwood is older than he should be.

He has the olds that bring the crazy.

My eye orbs were scorched with the sadness of the chair talking.

Why?

I remember my Uncle Jaarko in the final Kossu madness frenzy.

There were no chairs, only a fishing boat. Jaarko stared at the boat, and with his mouth foaming the mouth juice yelled, “Boat, if you stare at me for another minute I will rip you back to wood!” In his crazy mind place, the boat answered.

What it, the staring boat said, only pickle-minded Jaarko could ever answer.

But he is dead.

This was my life.

And now, for weeks counted to number two in a row, my past is my now.

Son of a bitch.

This week the thing that puts the “I know that old and death are like taxes” in my mind front is “Trouble With The Curve.”

I look at the man who was the badass mo-fo in “Unforgivable.” Asses, both cheeks, had the kicking.

“Outlaw Josey Wales.” “Dirty Harry.” “The Good, the Bad, and Eli Wallach.”

Now babbling like three-year-old ice cream screamer, still looking like the icon-man, almost reduced to joking old guy who drives his car into people now dead in Santa Monica (Google it if your mind is unable to recall).

“I was trying for my brakes!”

No, you had nothing right in your head. You can’t tell your brakes from your ass. Yet you remember January 7^th, 1958 in detail that is perfect.

Time has taken its toll.

Youth is over. It is fleeting. It is rarely appreciated.

So, our hero people, we wish them to forever to be ass-kickingly beautiful. With muscles that pop out like a squeezy toy.

Because if they never crap the pants, get covered with spots, drool like the monkey – how can it happen to us?

So when the crazy comes, it is that our hero is finally losing the fight. This is not possible. This is not us

But it is. God dammit.

So, while the fun is made (and I was at the T.V. party watching things Conventionally and howling like the next guy at Eastwood being the orangutan – minus the turd flinging, at least literally) we see the mortality that turns us all into smelly meat boiling in the dirt.

Where goes the soul? What did I do to make the remembrance of me? Who will give a fuck about Kimmo if he laughs at our past icon?

Omega Man (and Soylent Green and Will Penny, his name escapes my thought parts – see these films) also had his mind become cheese.

Did that lessen his earlier stuff of importance (marching with Martin Luther in the Reformation, yelling at the damn dirty apes)?

God, the hope is NO.

If our Kossu late life madness is our definition, let me die tonight – or let me disappear into a sweet smoke haze somewhere inHelsinki where I cannot be judged and die in peace.

Shit. I did not do a movie analysis. Life is bigger than the cinema. But much shorter.

But… I liked it (the cinema film). I had a pain near my heart that I was in my eyes seeing the last of a hero of a generation.

Amy Adams, great. Justin Timberlake (I am jealous of his way), great.

Clint Eastwood. Great actor. Great director. Now old guy. As we all will be. Old guy, anyway, me.

Again, son of a bitch.

So, two thumbs filled with melancholy yet straining to the sky while my face rain from my eyes fell and made my pants look like the pee stain I will make at 85. I will see “Trouble With The Curve” at least more than once.

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

P.S. Kyrle tells me that meandering will be the firing. So next week, a review that will “Ain’t It Cool” be talked to.

P.S. “The Voice” is back! I think Blake Shelton likes more booze than Kimmo! Is that possible? Go Blake!

September 14, 2012September 14, 2012

The Master [REVIEW]

The Master

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

I was audited.

Not by the sucking of blood monsters – the IRS assholes.

That is numbers.

Easy are the numbers. No.

They tried to audit my brain stem.

Walking down Hollywood Boulevard see the hotness. She stands, nearly perfect, handing out a tiny paper for the handing out.

“Free auditing” it says.

“Go further into the Hollywood heart” or something like that. I cannot resist her boobishness (they were magnificent).

So I go. Free audit is cool!

They give me a “Test of Your Personality” instead.

I hold “the cans.”

My mind cries “what the fuck?” but it is too late.

I can be a better man, if only I have the money.

I will never get near perfect handing out of paper girl. She was the meat to attract this Finnish bear-man (not gay bear, you may understand my mouth from brain thoughts, or not).

I become aware of the thought that I’m surrounded by Scientologists.

Son of a bitch.

To them I lived 75 million years ago (thank you, internet research! You saved me millions of dollars!).

Xenu – the asshole of the story brings me to Earth flying on a 1950s Earth plane.

OK.

Then into a volcano, like a virgin whose meat curtains are intact, I am flung.

Then the bombing of the nuclear stuff. Boom!

We are all dead and floaty in space. Ghosts of space. Until onto bodies we cling, like ticks, or whores in Vegas with the money to make.

If I give up Kossu and the sweet weed my life will expand into others and money, greatness, and the ability to live in a closet (with Top Gun) will be mine.

Why this sharing of intimate and things that are close to my mind?

I just saw “The Master” and it is almost documentary in its truth.

The Cause is a front – cult to those who know what is a cult. No cans to hold on with hands, but Amy Adams… that is a rocker!

Plot? Totally in the face it comes!

First, Paul Thomas Anderson leads us in charming expressive fragments of the history of his protagonist Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) in mind.

Bird’s-eye view we see him on a warship with the noise and tries last night sleep high above the deck on a platform, from below him a bunch of sailors who party like sailors keep his awake.

The Second World War is over, Freddie is an alcoholic. Who isn’t?

A psychiatric admission and several jobs later, he is to have a drunk Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) encounter, again on a boat.

Freddie follows, Lancaster is the leader.

Freddie has problems with Lancaster.

Lancaster has problems with Freddie.

There are motorcycles and a cool big boat on the floating of water.

And again, Amy Adams (yee haw!).

Much is happening.

Then it all arrives at basically “what the hell did my eyeballs just let enter my head?” And yet, awesome.

It has the look of well lit candy. Beautiful.

I need no sense to enter my mind parts. It is just good and cool.

So, two thumbs up, though slightly confused… the thumbs. Like the rest of my body parts.

Except for another part that is always up for Amy Adams. Heh.

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

P.S. Americahas gone to the dogs (this will be every headline, but I am always first)! At least on “America’s Got Talent.” Go, go you Olate Dogs! They know more tricks than a Kardashian whore with Ray J pretending that the camera was less than on. Again – go, go you dogs. Kardashians? Kiss my ass.

September 7, 2012September 7, 2012

The Words [REVIEW]

The Words

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

For the critic of the film there is always the hope, “please Odin, let this be the one.

The great film of the year!”

Then the thoughts crawl into the reality space and think “at least be the one that entertains my brain and makes me think of the movie and not running with the screams out of the theater.”

Then the thoughts go to “please don’t let this movie be a fart in my mouth hole – I hope I put another bottle of Kossu in the freezer, just in case.”

Finally the thoughts are “Odin, if you end my life now at least the pain won’t last like that of “Transformers 3” – do I need sweet smoke from the dispensary to dull the horror ache and so I can also soothe my hurt with Cheetos?”

Crappy honest truth: 1^st thoughts happen 2% of time, 2^nd thoughts 10%, 3^rd thoughts 65%, and 4^th thoughts 23% (Intern – add up the numbers. I’m so high). The ratio is never to be betted on, yet I still take this paycheck.

I am a reviewer.

Today’s film? “The Words.”

“The Word” would have been better because it is shorter. But know, we are to suffer on “The Words.”

Plot? Too much. But like a Ukrainian nesting doll in the backwards. And not interesting, but not so bad for a fart in the mouth hole (my new ratings system!).

Spoiler Alerts!

We make start with the inside doll. An American soldier (Ben Barnes) who falls in love with a French barmaid (Nora Arnezeder) after one of the World Wars.

But this story is contained in doll #2 (number two – this is related to the fart) which is about Rory Jansen (Bradley Cooper – douche, but not like Shia) who writes a book that an award is put on, “The Window Tears.” Then another doll! The outside-est of the dolls.

This story is in the story of Clay Hammond (Dennis Quaid) and his book “The Words” (so clever!).

Olivia Wilde is involved, and doesn’t get naked. This made me sad.

BUT, in the #2 fart doll, Rory didn’t the writing of the book! Holy shit! Here comes Jeremy Irons!

Rory is in the big trouble.

End spoilers!

Go ahead and follow through on the spoiler reading. Then when the girlfriend makes you with eyes open watch this you can still sleep with your brain off.

Or think of the nakedness of Olivia Wilde that is not seen.

Whatever is for the floating of your boat.

For me, two thumbs just sitting like thumbs… thumbs staring at each other thinking “what the hell, thumb?”

Luckily for Kimmo, I found a Kossu flask in my jacket while this inside doll took up the screen. It was mostly full for 45 seconds, then mostly empty.

“The Words” was better for about 20 minutes.

Better yet? 3 hits of the sweet, sweet “Blue Dream” smoke.

And popcorn.

With that, one more brain attack by “Transformers 3′ can be handled.

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

P.S. Finally, that little mariachi elf from “America’s Got Talent” is gone. My hatred for him burned like white hot steel inside the Finnish sun on fire. It defined my existence. Without the elf and the hate my life is nothing. Until “The Voice.” Christina has the big ones. Two of them. Kimmo like.

August 31, 2012

Lawless [REVIEW]

Lawless

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Warning: This review was fueled by Kossu.

The shots were flowing into my stomach place, the sweet burn up into my brain stem, and then my brain thoughts shot out of the finger ends on the keyboard.

As it should be.

I went to the cinema with a fellow reviewer, Yves.

He is as much a foreign as I, but since he is French he is funny in America.

He would tell me over and again that in France Shia LaBeouf is really Shia “The Beef.”

I would say no, it is really Shia “The Douche.”

Yves laughed, then I laughed like a horse and the lovely Kossu shot straight from my mouth to out of my nostril area.

Pain. Delicious pain.

And I would tongue bathe the now salty Kossu (not good, do not try to shoot it out of the nasal) off of my upper lip and drink again.

Then one more shot. And again. I was wasted!

Plot? Yeah. Attention, be forewarned, “Lawless” is based on real events!

To contextualize the plot, narrator, protagonist of the story, informs you of immediately the rules – or rather the lack of rules – that takes place in Franklin County, Virginia in the early 1930s (wow, in “Lawless” the 30s sucked a giant wiener!).

Bondurant brothers are notorious bootleggers. The stakes are simple in a world without rules where the police are corrupt and justice sold, the three brothers “hold sway.”

Characterized without subtlety – the youngest is puny (“The Beef” is type-cast here – damn, another shot out of my nose) – the players will evolve gradually, as develops an adventure without surprise, to tend to be completely expected (and unsurprising).

Shia LaBeouf is absolutely not convincing in the role of the coward who becomes manly.

Tom Hardy (Bane! With a face to be seen!) and Jason Clarke embody their characters beyond the artificiality induced staging to be almost human.

Then they presents the majestic Jessica Chastain but is allowed to play nothing but a bore.

Why do women in movies like this only appear so that we want them to be naked? That would be great.

Note – Mia Wasikowska is the hotness. There should be more of the naked with her, too. In every movie that I ever have to see again.

God, make it so.

Not surprisingly, the female characters are hopelessly secondary and generate a dynamic of self-pity.

Why, why, why?

In short, John Hillcoat (director of the laugh riot fun fest “The Road”) book a gangster film with a pathetically inadequate story to the point of becoming ridiculous and women are for decoration.

Except for Mia Wasikowska. Decoration maybe, but I love her.

Lots of bang! Blood! Death!

People die for no reason. Characters never change.

Jessica Chastain takes her clothes off.

More bang (not guns)! More blood! More death!

This I learned of American History – in U.S.A.depression everything was brownish and dirty.

Everybody was on his body with a gun. And it was legal to shoot people.

Until Guy Pearce comes around and acts all weird.

Then there is MORE shooting. That is a lot of learning from one movie.

So, my smart thumb droops floor-ward.

My horny thumb thinks, “damn, this was good – put that Mia goddess in everything!” So that thumb strains for the ceiling (hubba hubba).

Should this be allowed to be seen by your eyes?

Do you have $10 to waste? Then go.

If there is anything else you can do with your limited time on Earth, do that instead.

Life is too fucking short.

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

P.S. College football has returned. I now feel like an American from toe to top with my new love of the game! This “tailgating” is my new love thing. Fried meats, booze, dip, chips, booze, etc. If this in Finland was to exist we would all have frozen happily to death outside in the first blizzards of September! Hooray for warm America! And hooray for college football! Except for Alabama – you can suck it.

August 10, 2012

The Campaign [REVIEW]

The Campaign

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Oh, Hollywood.

I see you now – the game where my brain is turning to crazy.

I had surrendered already, a white waving of the flag saying “Hollywood, there is nothing expected – stink up the theater and I will write the words… I have no choice. I have nothing in me left to fight.”

Then comes what was never to happen again, or so said my mind thoughts.

Something fun (I needed none of the sweet smoke!).

Something original (no Kossu shots needed, although I had five – habit, and that stuff makes me awesome).

I did not leak from my eyes the salty pain tears.

No.

I saw “The Campaign.”

First, I must speak truth: I thought it was a documentary.

George W. Bush vs. a more hairy Barney Frank.

Then more soberness came to me (alas, it always does).

Will Ferrell has been a Bush. He is acting!

Barney Frank with facial bush is Zach Galifianakis. More acting!

With mincing. More later.

Plot? Yes!

Cam Brady (Ferrell) is a congress person from the north of Carolina.

He is a dick, yet is unbeatable in his mind.

Until rich guys want to bring Chinato Americaso they get maybe gay Marty Huggins (Galifianakis) to run.

A baby gets facially punched, the best actor in “The Artist” (Augie!) is brutalized.

But funny.

Baby face punching is funny, America! And for the first time – I think.

Dog brutalization, less funny.

Marty acts like he has the gay, but it is the subject never talked on

He wears sweaters of the Cosby style. He talks the lisp. We never speak of it.

Cam is “W” (with a much lower body count), but that isn’t talked on, too.

There is much that is distasteful humor to those who think they have the taste. They do not have the taste.

They just have a stick directly up the butt.

This is some funny shit (again, no bong hits prior to the screening – this is NOT a lie!).

This is a summer movie that makes the summer.

No, it is not “Shark Night 3D.” That was greatness.

This is the funniness.

I can now sit though “The Expendables 2” or (Odin, kill me if I am assigned the seeing of this) “Sparkle.”

But for now, I smile the smile of a happy smile right on my face.

Thank you, “The Campaign.”

So, two thumbs chuckling and (with a guffaw or three) pointing in the air. Although no smoke was in my mind, I recommend it to you.

With the wonderful smoke popcorn tastes better, ice cream is colder, and the film is only 85 minutes of length.

You will still be high when you sneak into the next theater, accidentally, and are watching “Hope Springs.” You will need to be high to sit through that crap. Trust me.

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

P.S. I raise my glass to my mouth to drink to Tuuli Petaja! Finland’s only medal in London! In sailing! Huh. Sailing. Yep. Just you bastard laughing people wait until the Winter Olympics. Our greatness will be like a foot in your ball sack!

P.P.S. Who will be the winning one on “The Glee Project” finale? Does anybody care? Does Ryan Murphy care?

P.P.P.S. Kristen Stewart is a slut! I am so proud of her! Is it because her boobs fly free in her next film (“On The Road”)? I am wanting to see that so hard! Has anyone said that about her before? I don’t think so (Twi-tards not included).

August 3, 2012August 3, 2012

Total Recall [REVIEW]

Total Recall

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Son of a bitch.

My working life is now my life of my life.

Sometimes the pain is so much, that there is howling where none is wanted.

Was I kicked in the right ball?

Stabbed in the lower right gut, pain flashing like a flashing pain light?

Made like the Lohan, when she moans the “Coke has run out” moan?

No.

Life life = kidney stone.

Pee that looks like oil of the motor, pain that is for the yelling until the sweet, sweet Dilauded in my new vein hole makes me the smiling man.

Pain is for the drug-free. I like drugs.

Work life = “Total Recall.”

Really?

Has the farting monkey classic “Ed” already been re-animated?

Hollywood, if there was a God with a shit to give you would all have the ball pain that made me Mr. Vicodin.

I think watching Colin Ferrell, take on the Arnold head a major crap, would have been O.K. if I was still Mr. Vicodin.

Or Mr. Kossu. Or Mr. Lemon Skunk Sativa.

Just being Mr. Kimmo made me cry.

Plot? There was one, in 1990. And it was good.

Now, white bread crap fest.

“Total Recall” and no Mars. I see.

Now is the time to re-do, yet take out all that made the first to be made.

Smart!

Sony, way to be!

Replace Arnold with boring Colin – check.

Replace Sharon Stone with a boring (but hot) vampire chick – check.

Interesting stuff replaced with same old crap – check.

Three-breasted woman – check.

I have seen the trailer – I have seen the movie.

Sony, my butt is for the kissing… get back there, pucker up, I like tongue!

That is all to say about this nothing pile. No reason to exist, no reason to write about it.

Rent it – smoke the sweet Sativa – eat Cheetos – maybe nap. Check out the Beckin-butt (Kate Beckinsale).

But… that is all.

Please Odin, give me another stone for the passing before my eyeballs must hurt my brain with another crappy re-do. Please.

Now, that is all.

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

P.S. You, the children, who want to watch movies for the money all day and night like Kimmo? This is the shit that is your 90%. Study dentistry. Less pain all around.

P.P.S. Olympics. Why do the flippy pre-pubescent girls get the ratings? Why not the beach ladies with the ass crack assaulting shorts? That is entertainment! And Ryan Seacrest must be stopped. Before he multiplies! Hey Sony, there’s an idea that’s not a remake. Assholes.

July 26, 2012

The Watch [REVIEW]

The Watch

With Wit, Reviewed by Kimmo Mustonenen

The times that movies are not good are the long times.

We sit and wait.

Something must be better.

If not a plot or a funny, will the smoke make the bad the good?

Will an end come that is better than the beginning?

We hope.

We wait.

Mostly in vain.

Such it is with this dog poo stuck in the waffle tread of my cool Wolverines. It smells, it adheres and refuses to go away.

With a stick I dig, little flecks of “The Watch” leave my brain thoughts and flop to my carpet.

Then more for the digging of movie crap off of my sole.

And yet the smell of “The Watch” lives on up my nose-hole.

Can I not rid myself of the stink cloud? Perhaps shots of Kossu will clean my brain with sweet, sweet “I forget.”

But no.

What is seen cannot be unseen. What is smelled is forever in my nose front face.

Dammit.

I will put Kossu in my neti-pot and flush my mucus creators forever.

Who needs smell when smell is now always crap? Not Kimmo, that is sure!

Plot? I guess.

Ben Stiller is anal control freak at Costco. Murder! Skinned corpse!

Then Vince Vaughn (bloated like a drunken Swede) who is more for the party (shock!), less for the funny (how many years since “Swingers”? Too many).

Jonah Hill has returned to the fat and is now again funny (well, for this movie anyway) and angry because he is not a cop.

Then there is an English black guy (Richard Ayoade) who deserved to be in better cinema, but must have done something to be punished here.

Free Richard Ayoade!

These wacky misfits are the neighborhood watch!

Zany!

They have an adventure! Aliens!

Dick jokes! Alien dick jokes!

So much bad. So much.

What have I done wrong to deserve this?

So, name irony. “The Watch.”

Really? More likely “The Look At Bloody Car Wreck.”

Eyeballs don’t go to the screen for the funny – they can’t possibly look away. And then there is the hope from the above that I spoke.

And hope is the cruelest thing…

So, two thumbs just kind of doing thumb things. Not happy thumbs. Not suicidal thumbs. Just thumbs that are needing the entertainment to happen.

Thumbs that didn’t get squat from “The Watch.”

I am so excited for next week! Another re-make! That is so novel!

Never done in Hollywood! They are so original!

“Total Recall” will be all time the great one that needed a re-boot.

Sony Pictures can kiss my whirling butt-cherry.

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

P.S. Become my friend on Facebook. That is the only way that the truth of our friendship can be true. Do it!

P.P.S. Summer T.V. is turning from suck to Summer Olympics. What is the difference?

July 20, 2012July 23, 2012

No “Dark Knight Rises” Review

Kyrle Lendhoffer for Kimmo Mustonenen

Dear Readers,

As you can see, there is no film review today.

I’m sure that, by now, everyone has heard the news of the “Dark Knight Rises” shooting in Colorado that has (so far) left 12 dead and scores wounded.

Kimmo’s review for today was less a review and more a musing on comic fans, and their obsession with what they love.

It poked fun at the extremes that these fans go to, to show their appreciation for what they love – whether it be camping out for days to be the first to see a movie or hitchhiking across the country to be at Comic-Con.

It was snarky in tone and its intention was to hold these folks up for some good natured mocking.

Sadly, today is not a day for snark or for making fun of people who we are sure were represented in great numbers in the casualty list from the shooting.

Today is a day for everyone to ruminate about this tragedy, to give a loved one an extra hug, and to remember just how short life really is.

We at Behind the Proscenium wish to express our greatest sympathies and condolences to the victims and to their families.

Our thoughts are with you.

Good fortune and good health to you all.

Kimmo on Kino will return next week.

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium