Rami Malek – Behind the Proscenium

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.

May 18, 2012May 18, 2012

Battleship [REVIEW]

Battleship

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Once again, the youth is easy picking for the child predators.

Our youth be the memories.

The predator?

Hollywood.

Again.

B4 – Hit! But in an inappropriate way on my child thoughts.

J1 – Miss! But not for your lacking at the trying.

J10 – Oh, you sunk my Battleship memories of fun and now is just CGI shit-fest! (I slap my forehead and into the lake backwards off the dock I reel, “You sunk my childhood!”).

My excitement rises like a boil in my armpit.

What’s next? “Bingo – The Movie?”

So, it seems that sailors are the cool.

So cool that they must fight a Transformer-like army from a wet dream on the Michael Bay sheets.

Mom, his sheets need changing.

His camera moves even in the night. It never stops.

Would that he would go blind. Michael Bay.

And he had nothing to do with this – except inspire it – with his camera frantic wet penis dreams.

I hate him.

HATE HIM.

So, like a turd in a punchbowl, “Battleship” floats.

Like the turd, we wish for its existence to end.

Like the turd, its existence is demanded.

It’s in our damn punchbowl.

Fuck.

Plot? Really?

Are you kidding my brain?

Battleships. Other ships. Crazy alien shit.

Kaboom!!!!

Destroyers. Cruise missiles. Actors.

Kablooie!!!. Waves. More actors.

Fizzle.

I need a drink.

Burp.

Good things, though? Hells yeah!.

Rhianna (character irrelevant) in shrink-to-fit with a blow-dryer body suit carrying a gun as big as a redneck making up for his short penis… Hells yeah!

She is #1 in my Masturbation Memory Bank – with a bullet (take a seat Christina Aguilera).

Brooklyn Decker’s cleavage?

If heaven was of boobs, I’m in heaven.

Liam Neeson (character irrelevant, but higher rank – not in my MMB, but in Navy) growls like a bear.

Poor Liam. Wife dead from ski head rock, but will take any movie like a new generation Michael Caine.

I understand. Take the money.

But, son of a bitch buddy, not this!

You sunk my “give a shit!”

Could I write more? If, by the word paid, then yes.

But this is the summer movie shit-storm beginning. I will see the same thing. I will write the same thing. Greed will overtake my mind more than the Rhianna-lust.

Shit movie is shit movie.

This reviewer is drooling on the coming of “Prometheus.”

Wrong? I could be.

But the belief that summer BANG movies can be smarter than me? I hope. I believe.

As for “Battleship?” I am sad with the thought that for some retards, this turd will float.

No. Please.

And “no” again.

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

P.S. “American Idol.” Make me proud. White Guy With Guitar #5 FTW!!!!!! And then disappear quickly. That is the pattern.

June 28, 2011

Larry Crowne [REVIEW]

Larry Crowne

With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen

Larry Crowne (everyman’s everyman Tom Hanks) is an extremely diligent and good employee in a supermarket. He also completes the unpleasant tasks with full dedication and spread good mood around.

When he is ordered by his superiors in the break room, he thinks, therefore, that he’s already determined ninth award as “Employee of the Month” (not like the one that had Dane Cook or Jessica Simpson thank God) will receive.

Instead, he gets the notice. THAT notice.

The absurd reason: Larry has no college education and can not therefore be promoted.

Only in America, what?

The search for a new job quickly proves to be hopeless. It also looks at certain areas that show extremely naive Larry can be.

So he follows the advice of his neighbor Lamar (Cedric the Entertainer) and enrolled at East Valley Community College to a class in rhetoric and to demonstrate in economic science (sweet!).

The first lesson in financial matters Larry receives before the first day of school at a gas station: while his huge vehicle thirsty swallows the expensive gasoline, next door is a gaggle of scooters with a few gallons only to drink. So now goes Larry around on a two-wheeled vehicle.

Instruction, concerning his manner of speaking, he then receives from professor teacher Mercedes Tainot (Julia Roberts). The lecturer is not particularly motivated, because their students give her as little attention as her husband Dean (Bryan Cranston), who proves to be lazy lecher – and a lazy lecher is no lecher at all.

Right?

The issue of unemployment? “Larry Crowne”, after a while, only mentioned in passing. Such as when Larry (played as Hank’s wife at the bank employee Rita Wilson) deposited the termination of his mortgage, which will lead to eviction.

Otherwise, the story focuses mainly on the transformation of the main character of a staid boring schmuck into an attractive educated manly one.

It is pretty much the complete opposite of the exciting lecturers from “Dead Poets Society”. Instead, we recognize a lively classmate (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) who finds in Larry the dormant potential and asks him to put his polo shirt into his pants no longer.

The formation of Larry Crowne is also apparently quite superficial.

While Larry discovers a new life, of course, the professor reawakens gradually on her strengths. Predictable ripples so the action from one scene to the next and most amazed by the innocence of the story (I really was).

But this weakness is somehow also a strength of the film.

It’s almost refreshing, as Hanks and co-writer Nia Vardalos almost completely abandon innuendo and profanity.

As a result, the humor is moving at a level worthy of a sitcom, but carefree conversation ranges from them, too, even if the message of the film ultimately turns out to be as honest as the main character.

Larry is at the end that is visible in a lecture – that life is the best school. But not high school. That sucked.

One and a half thumbs wagging in the air. See it, but not twice.

Kimmo Mustonenen (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium

P.S. Have you watched The Voice? Christina Aguilera has giant boobs! With this information before – I would have sooner than later watched. Tune in!