Neal Moritz – Behind the Proscenium

July 19, 2013

R.I.P.D. [REVIEW]

R.I.P.D.

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Our brains can be crap.

Yes, this happens.

We think the excited, only for the suck to rise.

Why can this be for the happening?

We crave good.

I will give anything more than ever the chances it (“good movie, please Odin” speaks my brain) deserves.

I am for wanting every movie that is watched to be the greatness that was “Shark Night 3D”.

The universe thinks I deserve a worsening. So the universe makes me be with “R.I.P.D.”

Lord.

A mess this is in my mind place. My brain crap is now confusion.

I have seen this movie!

Three times.

“Men Are Black,” “Men Are Black II,” and “Men Are Black III (in 3D!).”

Tommy Lee Jones (“Abraham Lincoln Laywer”) and Will Smith (“Legend I Am”) put their good foot right in the ass while kicking. New thoughts and stories made my face a happy smile place.

Now this crap. Ugh.

Plot? You know it. I mean, you really know it. I go on anyway.

Nick the Cop (Ryan Reynolds) is killed by Hayes (Kevin Bacon – here, one degree from toilet water). Nick goes to Dilbert Heaven – corporate Heaven would really be Hell, although having the hot, hot, hot Mary-Louise Parker (is she really almost 49? – her soul must have been rented to the devil) there gives it some hope – and he (Nick) gets to become “Death Cop – Deado Killer.”

Really.

He is paired with Tommy Lee Jo- No.

Shit! He is paired with Roy (Jeff Bridges) who talks with his mouth like he has had a stroke.

Or two.

They are disguised to be a Chinese and Hot Boob-ula Chick (Marisa Miller – so hot when on the page and not moving, not so hot when talking). We must never know they are just actors, acting badly.

They are after “Deados” – dead people who are escaping the movie to get to a real life. Like T.V.’s “Reaper”, only less good stuff.

Nick wants to be with his not dead wife again.

Did it happen? Did I care?

Did I drink so much Kossu that the last 25 minutes where placed in a brain blender to be remembered as “whoooosh”?

I don’t know. No. And yes.

This hot mess did not direct itself. No. First, the story board was published in 2001 (now are you nerds happy?). Then Robert Schwentke needed money and said “sure! I’ll poop one out for ya!”

Voila! “R.I.P.D.”

Why, Hollywood, why?

Must all summer flicks be regurgitated Franken-films that am made from the body parts of other movies. Or be a clone of previous clone movies?

As long as the dollars flow to box offices like Kossu flows to my liver nightly we will be seeing the Franken-films forever. Damn…

My thumbs are weird and confusing. They twitched when things went boom. They twitched when the Hot Boob-ula Chick would walk in the slo-mo.

They twitched when I ran out of the most delicious ice cream Bon Bons even chewed by a man (me).

So, for this “R.I.P.D.” I had epileptic thumbs. Pointing every direction but up.

Tell your eyes to wait for “The Conjuring” or “The Smurfs 2.” I kid about the Smurfs. I would rather be shot in the face and eaten by weasels.

I speak the truth.

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

P.S. “Breaking Bad” is about to come to an ending. My sadness is bulging for there will be no more shows to see to. My love for this T.V. showing is so great that I will name my fantasy hockey club “Team Heisenberg” this year. If this is beyond your understanding sign up with Netflix and watch the damn show. Yesterday.

You’re welcome.

HEY – NOW “LIKE” ME ON FACEBOOK PLEASE!

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!

March 16, 2012March 19, 2012

21 Jump Street [REVIEW]

21 Jump Street

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

First, a truth.

In a second week – I was having the déjà vu, right in my face.

Something else from my happy child times is under attack.

From Hollywood.

The greatest showing in television that wasn’t “Baywatch” (which is the best if only for the great mammary swings in a slower motion – hot stuff!).

And even I, when high or even not, was not much for the original of “21 Jump Street.” Richard Grieco freaked me out – his skin was unnatural and unholy.

But still – why do the Hollywood persons have to bend over everything that was from our pasts and violate the brown eye?

Sometimes the past memory needs its hole revisited.

This past memory is this movie.

If you were to judge the success of a movie-play simply by how much or how little you made me laugh, “21 Jump Street“ would be one of the best I’ve seen in a while.

The effectiveness of the film is amazing, especially based on the same television series of the 80’s whose greatest legacy to cinema it was Johnny Depp (what in bloody hell have you done to Barnabas Collins, Johnny? – I will hurt you when I see you next).

The directors of “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs”, Phil Lord and Chris Miller, transfer the same energy and humor that characterized that great this new animated comedy, thankfully, is rated “R”, for full of delicious dirtiness.

The dick jokes were particularly welcome from the mouths of the leads.

Among the best sequences are a feature film that revolves around a trip of hallucinogen (I sure love drugs!) and one in which our “heroes” are involved in a chase on the highway.

Absurd first in nature and the second with his parody of the clichés of the genre of action, show that neither the directors nor the screenwriter Michael Bacall are taken very seriously, which invites the audience to laugh at and with the film.

And then the invitation is make to fire up the bong.

Then the movie is near perfect and good – simultaneously.

Thank you, weed.

Plot? Come on, a plot is needed?!?

O.K. it exists.

Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum star as Schmidt and Jenko, two incompetent cops are reassigned to an old unit not activated from the 80’s that infiltrates as students in a college to stop the transfer of a deadly narcotic.

Ice Cube scowls as the new superior, Captain Dickson, and then he scowls again. And scowls one more time.

I wanted to smoke him out and bring on the smiling. Next time, Mr. Cube.

Things happen. Roles from High School (heh, high school) are reversed.

A big dick in olden days is no longer respected. Fat kids who were openly slapped for smelling like bacon are now the cool.

Up is down.

Sideways is straight.

And comedy is had by all.

Note to self – when stoned at funny movie DO NOT hold ice cream bon bons in the lap – without knowledge you can freeze your nuttles.

Pain!

So, two thumbs higher than I was when seeing this screening!

Funny, clever and no Richard Grieco leather face to give me nightmares.

Better than the stupid show it was “based” on (really only the title is shared correctly).

And my testicles have thawed sufficiently so that the panic is gone from my voice.

Success!

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

Next week – “The Hunger Games.” My Katniss inspired wood is filling with sap.

P.S. To the “sports expert” who helped me with my first NCAA March Insanity pool… you are an asshole. Thank you for saying “Kimmo, take Montana all the way.” No money for me now. I hope your eyeballs fall out and are eaten by your cat. This I mean! Dick.