Patrick St. Esprit – Behind the Proscenium

June 24, 2016June 24, 2016

Independence Day: Resurgence [REVIEW]

Independence Day: Resurgence

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

“Kimmo, you were gone again. W in TF, crazy Finn?” You asked this of me.

My fingers now answer.

I could not write from the jail house.

We were too busy a singin’ that rock.

Baby!

Let’s rock!

I lie.

There is no mouth music out of my face in the big house.

Or even the little house… L.A. County.

That is where my time was because I had a case of the stalking. Not my fault – she was the one that made me the one that was doing the doing.

So pretty.

So smart.

Mine.

Maika Monroe – I will stay 300 foot from you, with the order that is restraining my love.

You say that the “It” in “It Follows” was named Kimmo.

If so, I am charged guilty – guilty of Goddess worshipping.

But then… then… your ding damn movie!

W in TF?

Oh Odin!

I tried for the drunkening.

I smoked the sweet, sweet smoke.

I, with accidental dumb, froze my nut bag with ice cream Bon-Bons (again! I hope my swimmers are still active).

But I must have to say – my IQ was shed of a good 50 points much like dog hairs falling in the heat wave.

IQ all over the sofa.

IQ all over my jacket.

IQ stuck in my butt crack.

“Independence Day: Resurgence” is so dumb, that dumb is smart to it.

How dumb?

OK!

Dumb plot?

Sure!

Will Smith has asked for so much cheddar that he is now just a portrait.

His son (Jessie T. Usher) is a mannequin that is also a pilot.

Judd Hirsh is still Jewing – his boat is floated by continent-sized alien frisbee into Nevada. Believing is total, really – only 90% of audience went “bulls are shitting here” when seeing this.

David Levinson (Jeff Goldblum) is still on meth twitchy – but his ex-wife from 20 years ago is a goner. Or she is now French (Charlotte Gainsbourg). There is no explanation.

The there is Mr. Sass (Liam Hemsworth) who is also hot shot top gun pilot guy. He can fly anything (as well as not kill puppies when listening to Miley Cyrus talk – maybe the deafness has saved his brain).

Data (Brent Spiner) who died in ID4 has beaten dead, but unlike Christ took longer than 3 days to be the groundhog. He is funny, and with it has many more smarts than the movie film.

President Whitmore (Bill Pullman) has a cane, so we know he is the crazy. His daughter (Maika, I forgive you, and will for every time you have me arrested – so stop with that doing of arresting, OK?) is hot and is good at piloting, too. And she and Liam are in the Mile High Club.

Hopefully. If I was Liam.

Pac-Man comes to the moon, but we are all “suck it, Pac-Man” and shoot him in the face. But… he has come to say that… they are coming… Space Invaders!!!

Ugh.

Same shi-ite, different movie.

More coincidences that can possibly be coincidental.

Everybody ends up somewhere where the rest of everybody is. Then the other bodies end up where they are at.

Then some are in the giant alien frisbee bigger than Antarctica.

Then they are not.

There are speeches.

There are ethnic people on the radios listening to the speeches and maybe the World Cup (all of us ethnics listen to futball on the radio – so you can recognize us as not you).

Explosions.

Pac-Man is really Pac-Girl.

Whaaaaaaat?!?

Damn.

I wonder who wins.

So.

Two thumbs, like the ice-box carrots that became mine three weeks ago and are limper now than little Kimmo in the jail shower (fear makes soft – fact), pointing dirt-ward.

I will have this movie on my eyes maybe once more – this fall – while drunk and high and trying to sleep and ID:R slithers up on the HBO.

I will blow kisses to Maika, squirt water from my eyes in love-pain, and like a tiny little girl cry myself to my sleeping place.

But for you? Go see “Swiss Army Man” – Harry Potter farting > Jeff Goldblum twitching. Fact.

Kimmo Mustonenen – Kimmo On Kino – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. What in the F, Great Britain? Now you are like Norway, but without pickled herring. And Norway without pickled herring is just Great Britain. Put that in your pipe and chew on it.

P.P.S. Maika, I forgive you… and will wait for you until Gemma Arterton’s next film. Then Gemma is mine. You have been warned! But I still forgive you.

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.

November 22, 2013December 16, 2013

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire [REVIEW]

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

I was gone.

You have missed me as much as I missed me.

Yes, you have.

Admit it. Now.

I am back. In the rearview mirror of my brain is a place that forever will make me spit out spit – rehab.

Someday, I will use my hands as my mouth and type you the story.

No Kossu. No sweet, sweet smoke.

“Friends” all up in my “intervention.”

To have such friends is to need a good poop and only fart. Yes… disappointment.

Now for movie things that have been not done so long in the not doing.

“The Hunger Games: Catching Fire” – hells yes!!!

No longer in rehab prison I smoked the sweet smoke, made full my flask, bought Crunch flavored Nibs and to the Cinema I skipped – happily, with a smile face.

Why?

Jennifer Lawrence.

Katniss is back, and her clothes are tightening. So are now my pants.

My love is a throbber.

A throbber right in the muscles of my heart machine.

I am consumed.

My groin is “Catching Fire.”

This seems much like a lot. And it is.

My love for Jennifer Lawrence is bigger than it can now be, or ever will.

Plot? Okay.

Katniss (J-Law, or Mrs. Mustonenen, please Odin!!!) is back in Finland. She has the shell shocks.

Gale (Thor’s brother) wants to mount her. So does Peeta (Josh “The Lost Munchkin” Hutcherson).

With a Hunger Games win in the pocket, they must go on tour, and like Metallica they (my woman and the dwarf) must fake their love.

Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) is still my drinking pal. Effie (Elizabeth Banks) still needs a face punch. Evil President Snow (Donald Sutherland) still smells of the kidney medication.

The people gather in giant crowds of close to 35 people to see Katniss in tight clothes. And to start being revolutionary against all who have meds for their kidneys.

Snow is so mad his face is all smile-like and is so old he wants Katniss made dead. She does nothing for his groin.

A human weasel (Philip Seymour Hoffman) has a plan. Hunger Games 75 – All-star Edition! Poor Katniss and Peeta again must fight.

SPOILER ALERT!

Just kidding. No spoiling. When high, I am funny to myself.

Oh, one thing for spoil – Crunch Nibs are to my mouth what J-Law is to my area.

Boing!!! Damn.

NO MORE SPOILERS!

There is much happening.

Katniss has just enough tight clothes, not enough of the nudes.

Johanna (Jena Malone) gives us some side boob – I dribbled Kossu down my chin but was disappoint in the finality.

Damn PG-13.

So – much sadness, cool trains, storm troopers, oppression, cool fights, side boob, costume-o-rama, rebellion, and, of course, the awesome most woman of all the worlds that are to be:

Jennifer Lawrence.

Jennifer – don’t make me crawl to “American Hustle” to see more of cleavage heaven. Come visit me in L.A. We will smoke and drink.

I will post to Facebook that we mounted (even if you wish to remain mount-free – I would happily build a house in your friend-zone… really).

I have two thumbs straight up in the air. And more – but PG-13 movie makes for PG-13 review. You must, in your imagination place, see what else shoots skyward.

See this movie twice. Make my future wife rich.

Thank you.

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

P.S. “American Horror Story: Coven.” WTF? Better than that shit-stink “Asylum,” but still… WTF?

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