Michael Giacchino – Behind the Proscenium

July 11, 2014July 17, 2014

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes [REVIEW]

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

With Wit, Reviewed by Kimmo Mustonenen

Times are things that make men weep.

Most men.

Not Finns.

We are not the weeping types for being told “no” to World Cupping.

They let the Swedes (bastards) World Cup.

More than once (but not this time – take that, Swedes).

But we need no World Cupping.

We Finns can Cup for ourselves.

Sunday I will not be World Cupping.

I’ll be drinking kossu, smoking the sweet, sweet smoke and going back to see the greatest movie ever made – “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.”

Yes.

It is.

See for yourself.

Plot? Do monkeys poop in their hands?

You bet!

Ten years have come and gone and come. Monkey flu is the worse than a plague, yet plague-like in the killing.

499 of every 500 people – dead.

Real estate is now affordable in San Francisco (plague, please come to Los Angeles, too – I cannot for now afford to live in the Malibu – my dream of dreams – it is filled with fully figured actresses).

San Fran is in the shitter – with no electricity.

Humans Malcolm (Jason Clarke) and his bulge making woman Ellie (Kerri Russell – Kerri, if you ask I’ll send you my digits for that we may date so that I can have a bulge, too, if you know what I mean – I say this to you while winking seductively) are tasked by crazy eyeballed Dreyfus (Gary Oldman) to rebuild super electric hydro damn (Super Electric Hydro Damn will be my 10cc cover band) to bring back property value to the Bay.

In the way are monkeys of many flavors. Chimp monkeys. Orangutan monkeys. Bonobo monkeys.

But not THE Monkees. That would have been the shit, but distracting, so only full body hair monkeys make the cut.

They are ape shit crazy (get it?) but can talk and ride on the horses.

They hunt elk, but are monkeys, so they fight a bear. The bear gets bitch-slapped to the dirt.

“Fuck you, bear” say the apes.

The cool monkey leader, Caesar (Andy Serkis – really in green body suit covered with ping pong balls running around a green screen world – which would be so the awesome when high) says, “OK humans, just mess with the dam, or we will poop in our hands and throw it at you.”

Caesar’s best monkey pal Koba (Toby Kebbell – also in green body suit, etc., etc.) says, “Eff that C, we’re gonna use poop guns to knock you human clowns off the planet, yo!”

The war is on.

How good is Ape vs. Human war?

I forgot to drink my kossu for an hour.

An hour!

Same with my weed.

How the hell is this a possible? But it was.

CGI is better than reality here (I said this – CGI is now not always the suck). Apes were more awesomer than people.

This shit is real, friend.

Believe it now. It will mess with the wet organ that is your brain.

So, two thumbs wishing that I was a poop throwing ape on the big screen.

See this movie today.

Then see it yesterday (but you cannot) and again tomorrow (this is possible).

It will be worth every penny (or $16 if in 3D).

“Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” – best picture of 2014. Book it!

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

P.S. “Orphan Black” has blown my mind stem. Clone Tatiana Maslany and bring me four of her. Then I would not need Malibu. My Chatsworth apartment would be heaven, except in Chatsworth. Oh, yes – this I dream. You should dream it, too. Kimmo has spoken (with typing).

HEAR/WATCH KIMMO’S REVIEW HERE:

March 9, 2012March 20, 2012

John Carter [REVIEW]

John Carter

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

This week starts with a happiness explosion from my head mind (but not in the pants, dirty people).

“Kimmo, you are the man with a bag of lucky!” say I, Kimmo, to the self inside.

You see, I am to review my first love.

Not a human person. But a reading experience of youth.

Yes, the books series that made many endless Finnish nights come to an end.

An end that of happiness. That in Finland we call “morning.”

From “A Princess of Mars” through the crappy yet wonderful “John Carter of Mars: Skeleton Men of Jupiter” all asses were kicked.

Green and caucasian. Those from Helium to far off Ptarth

Then my first meat whacking to thoughts of Dejah Thoris (so hot in my mind! Best whack ever!).

How could Mr. Hollywood put the screw in the butt of “John Carter?”

Apparently with the ease of an experienced person who screws the butt of most great books for reading.

Disappointment is a pain that crawls in my stomach like a worm.

Or, here, like green four-armed Tars Tarkas (read the damn books!).

Crappy 3-D? Check!

CGI that is less than real than fake! Check!

$250 million spent on the crapping? Check!

Plot? Too much.

John Carter to Barsoom is somehow to there from here (Barsoom is Mars to Martians and others that have been to visit… Mars).

John falls in with Tharns who are green, four-armed, and totally whack.

I didn’t know that the William Dafoe had four arms – he is a good actor.

Carter (the hero) is played as a piece of white bread (Taylor Kitsch) with muscles.

And the whack queen of my first teens, Dejah Thoris, is the un-whack worth Lynn Collins.

Hollywood, you had almost 100 years to make a piece that is of a master and this is the warm pile that comes out?

What happened Mr. Director (Andrew Stanton)? With “Wall-E” I cried at mechanical homeless person who was lost among obese Americans lost in space.

Now even green, multi-limbed, bad-ass Tharns are like mouth pudding flavor free.

The loss of the hours wasn’t so much a hurt – watching my childhood friends of imagining being ass-raped (see “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo”) was a pain that I will remember as long as I can – you see, even with the smoking of many loads of the wonderful Super O.G. Kush I could not find the liking… only the hating.

And the stomach-crawling disappoint.

So I have no more to say.

One thumb droops in mourning – the death of my childhood fantasies and hopes are now the truth of the screen.

The other thumb is to be right in the Mr. Disney butt – so now Mr. Disney, you know how “John Carter” feels.

I am sad.

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

P.S. “American Idol” – cannot next year (if there is one to be) have just one woman (who doesn’t make the eyes pain) over the age of 18? The “Season of Fugly” will no longer be watched. I watch “The Voice” now, waiting for Christina Aguilara’s imminent boob explosion. I quiver with the waiting.

June 23, 2011June 23, 2011

Cars 2 [REVIEW]

Cars 2

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Wow! Maybe over thinking was the downfall. Or over loving of money by Pixar.

Whatever.

No longer “wonder kid” crazy movie makers supreme. Now, just another assaulting to my eyeballs.

All for my dollars. Bastards! In sucky 3-D.

Written by Ben Queen from a previously devised by John Lasseter, Brad Lewis and Dan Fogelman, the script for Cars 2 hit by investing in a different story from that seen in the original instead of making the same mistake most of the proceedings and try to repeat the previous formula – and it is a pity, then, that the plot is chosen by the team as bad and equally formulaic.

What?

Adopting the genre “espionage” as the basis of the narrative, the film features Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) and his best friend Mate (Larry the Cable Guy) on a trip around the world while the race car part in a series of disputes promoted to prove efficiency of an alternative fuel, clean and renewable – or “green” to you and me.

However, Mate turns out to be mistaken for an American spy and goes on to spearhead several adventures along the agent McMíssel Finn (Michael Caine – not acting, but Reacting!) and his assistant Holley Box (yowza!) Brita (Emily Mortimer) as they try to discover the identity of the villain who seeks to sabotage the race discredit the new fuel.

The desperation of Cars 2 to establish some kind of solidity in its plot, in fact, reaches its peak at the instant kill, for no apparent reason, a loose unbelievable device, only to conclude that there can “do it” by not feel secure in himself, forcing his old friend to encourage him (I don’t even know what I wrote right now, but you will) – and this kind of unfortunate crud is spread throughout the work, starting on the scene, at the beginning of the film, in which Lightning mourns the death of Doc Hudson in a monologue accompanied by an artificial track just to forget about the very second he leaves the museum dedicated to old mentor (apparently, Pixar decided to delete the character after the death of his voice actor, Paul Newman, although the van originally voiced by George Carlin has not deserved the same consideration – words you can’t say on T.V. being said to Pixar right now).

This is now my longest sentence.

If nothing else, the film still takes care of sending anything positive for their young audience, planting the idea that “junk” (the “old”, “different”, “rejected”) see the world with envy, resentment and bad intentions (whatever!).

And what about their supposed ecological message, which at first seems to advocate the importance of a clean fuel and sustainable only to conclude with the mantra so unbelievable. So unbelievable that I shan’t mention it.

Ha!

A mantra that replaced the word “gasoline” for “Pixar” unfortunately no longer applies.

There, I said it.

Kimmo Mustonenen for Kimmo On Kino – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. The Glee Project brings me tears of joy. I have much hope for those poor, weirdo reject kids. And they’re not in their 20’s! Or auto-tuned! Yet.

June 9, 2011June 11, 2011

Super 8 [REVIEW]

Super 8

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

From the title, Super 8 ad spectacular: we’ll travel through (and in) time.

Indeed, when the Amblin logo fills the screen, supported by a bombastic score and air, we’re back in the early 80s, when Steven Spielberg directed, and edited stories for teens bursting of monsters and wonders (the stories, not the teens so much).

The reference to the glorious era of Gremlins or Back to the Future is fully assumed by JJ Abrams, who grew up before these movies long before he became the instigator of the series Alias and Lost (what the hell – just me, or you, too?), then offer breathe new life sagas Mission: Impossible and Star Trek.

Officially sponsored by the director of E.T., he declares his love here cinematic without ever falling into the trap of slavish imitation or wink supported (with a nudge maybe).

For Super 8 has its own personality and obviously draws much of his inspiration from childhood memories of the filmmaker (which are his).

We are in 1979, at the end of the school year, in a quiet village in Ohio (my city was gone! See that?).

A small group of teenagers, who runs a cheese eating zombie film in Super 8 under the influence of George Romero, is witnessing a train wreck extremely spectacular. Following this accident, the townspeople begin disappearing and strange phenomena are increasing. While the army began to occupy the place and the police seem powerless, our young heroes seem the only ones who can undercover the truth.

While most seem kind of compulsory figures at the rendezvous, JJ Abrams deftly slaloms between all the clichés strewn in his path, refusing archetype (take that, Joseph Campbell!) and a caricature (flights very overrated The Goonies) in favor of a strong dramatic structure protagonists and extremely touching (not like that).

The hair-raising action sequences (the crash of the train is a piece of anthology that will probably date and harm your ear holes) do not ever thus on the characters, vehicles with humor (what?), tenderness and emotion.

Super 8 affirms the move as a real balancing act, halfway between the sincere nostalgia (those who have experienced the joys and frustrations of short films in 8 mm will have their memories refreshed), the constant quest for originality (the scenario does constantly take us by the nose to a climax of beauty – yes!) and assumed tribute to the cinema of Steven Spielberg, whose omnipresent shadow seems to hover over the entire film.

Alternately, Close Encounters Third Kind, E.T., The Jaws, Jurassic Park and even The War of the Worlds (Scientology!)there are visual and thematic correspondences, while the sumptuous soundtrack written by Michael Giacchino pays tribute to the symphonies of John Williams.

However, Abrams keeps the style of its own, both in writing his dialogues in his visual bias (the famous “lens flare” of Star Trek are always of the party – where the guest stay too long and make sick on the toilet).

So this is a work in a state of grace, which almost miraculous alchemy stems both from its authors at its magnificent cast of young actors vying for accuracy and spontaneity.

Apparently there are two Fannings. The world is a better place yet.

Kimmo Mustonenen – Behind The Proscenium