In a stunning development, M. Carl Hurlybubb of Decatur, Georgia, reports he recently participated in a business meeting that he found “boring.”
Mr. Hurlybubb reports he “doodled” and allowed his mind to wander during the meeting. “I confess I imagined some of my team members to be disrobed and acting like certain breeds of barnyard animals. I’m not proud of this. I’m afraid I lost focus and let my team down.” He promised to do better in the future.
We’re talkin’ movies, babe. Big honking blockbustery movies. The kind of movies that make sitting in the dark with a bunch of total strangers worthwhile and not as sleazy as it sounds.
I once heard there are two types of movies. One type is character-driven stories; timeless tales of the human condition that most people will empathize with and plug into on an emotional level. The film Up in The Air is one of the best character-driven movies in a long time.
Type two are visually-driven tales; movies that are eye candy that take you places where reality cannot. These movies are less about character and more about creating worlds of wonder. 
You can get a fix of Avatar in vanilla 2D flat screen, resplendent depth of field wonderment 3D or in your face 3D IMAX. I slipped on the glasses and did 3D. I suggest you at least do 3D since this film is a quantum leap forward in CGI technology and you may as well get the full effect (no, there aren’t any extreme 3D tricks like bullets coming at your head).
On the plus side, this movie is like the Lord of The Rings movies: must-sees to see what computers can do to replicate vivid imaginations. Avatar is a visual smorgasbord and your eyeballs will feast ’til they puke.
There is a story here. It’s plodding and predictable; a mash-up of genre cliches that will give you a constant sense of deja vu and make you feel guilty about man’s intrinsic inhumanity toward fellow man. (Sigh.) I napped in places and still felt the movie was dragging and need some chainsaw editing. The music was a waste of musicians. The score is featherweight with no sticking power at all.
But I forgive Avatar its sins because the visuals on Pandora, where the freakishly tall blue peoplish things called Na’vi live, are spectacular. James Cameron spent six forevers making this film, inventing a lot of the technology that enabled these incredible images, so I’ve got to give the dude his due– it’s eye candy that’s orgasmic for the optic nerves. This film weighs in at almost three hours, so drink some strong coffee, slip on the 3D glasses, watch one-dimensional characters and see how cool technology is in the year 2154. Great advancements have been made everywhere, except in wheelchair design (what’s the deal, science, where’s the love?).
Sherlock’s proverbial sidekick, Dr. Watson, is no doddering old fart here– he’s Jude Law, hardly the dumpy, frumpy Watson we’ve grown up with.
Now, you’d think this movie would be a character-driven tale, after all you have a couple of the most famous characters ever created trying to foil evilniks. But no, it’s more of a visually-driven film. And that’s not a horrible thing. The re-imagined characters are fun and interesting and that’s fine by me.
The computers worked overtime to create a stunning 1891 London. The effects are seamless, the art direction meticulous, sumptuous and filling. Oh, Guy Ritchie does his Guy Ritchie camera tricks, the wah-wah over-cranked slo-mo shots here and there, but fortunately he doesn’t beat the horse dead.
This Sherlock is a fun action flick with plenty of chases and fights and thrills. It’s a romp, and Hans Zimmer’s score is terrificly eclectic and fun.
Robert Downey Jr. is great, as usual, and Jude Law brings his A-game. It’s a movie well-worth seeing, just don’t expect it to be the Sherlock you know and love. For Pete’s sake, even his pipe’s changed!
Not to belittle the other two films, but frankly, there wasn’t much that stuck with me after I left the theatre. Oh, we had a good time in the dark, but it wasn’t a lasting relationship. Just disposable images. But Up In The Air, this is the real deal, a terrific story of fresh interesting characters and a timeless explorations of the human condition.
Director Jason Reitman (Juno, Thank You For Smoking) has a wonderful natural touch with human stories. In this one, George Clooney is a road warrior who specializes in downsizing corporate America. He’s a very busy boy. He is a cynical philosopher king who believes in traveling light, physically and emotionally. By and by he falls for Vera Farmiga and he mentors Anna Kendrick in the art of the hatchet. The screenplay is textured, nuanced and wise. If you expect this to be a comedy you will be disappointed. It’s amusing, compelling and seductively romantic. Most of all, it’s a movie that makes you think about life and living.
And that’s the kind of movie that endures beyond movie making techniques for me.
Washington politicians are lighting their torches, waving pitchforks in the air and giving loud angry mob grumbles to protest total body scanning x-Ray equipment being used as a safeguard against terrorists.
These technologically advanced machines are currently installed in many airports and are being proposed for many more as an effective weapon in the war on terror. No one disputes the ability of these machines to show weapons and potentially dangerous devices, but they also show more.
Although many politicians have been caught in saucy, sordid extramarital affairs thmselves, they will not stand idly by and allow the public to be scanned in airports in order to protect the very same public.
“Some things are better left to the bedroom, provided the bedroom is in a state where you can do certain hot things legally,” said an unnamed Representative from a state whose flag features a lone star. “An airport is no place to know what people have going on beneath their clothes. Frankly, some of these images are so explicit I can imagine them ending up in dirty magazines, websites and nasty videos. Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff… I’m imagining it now, baby…. oh, yeah, scan it good, baby. Wait! Think of the children! For goodness sake, think of the children– one of our most precious assets, next to gold and diamonds. Why these explicit x-Rays may be a greater threat to the public than the terrorists they’re supposed to protect us from.” The politician stopped and became excited. “Hey, that’s a good sound bite,” he said as he danced, twirled and performed a full leg split. He shouted “I’m making the news tonight, I’m making the news tonight! Nah, nah, nah, nah nah!”
We’ll see you at the airport… every sexy bit of you.
Yes, I know traditional advertising is supposed to be dead.
Yes, I know 76% of people say they don’t trust or believe advertising (but I don’t believe them– no one wants to admit his/her opinion can be swayed by anything).
Yes, I know the consumer is king/queen/ruler of their media universe.
But for God’s sake, will advertisers please cut it out with the gonzo guerrilla tactics, lame product placements, ham-fisted promo/entertainment integration and convoluted tie-ins?! 
Give me some of that old time traditional advertising–– I’m sick of the loopy promotional tie-ins everywhere. Especially sports.
It’s just a matter of time until we’ll be watching a football game and hear commentators saying things like, “Anderson fumbles the ball and it’s another costly turnover. You know, Pepperidge Farm Turnovers never let you down with their delicious fruit fillings and flaky pastry crusts. Ummm, that’s some good eating on a hungry morning! Pepperidge Farm Turnovers, umm yum!”
“And there’s the two minute warning. You know, in less than two minutes you can easily compare affordable Progressive Insurance rates with four competitors. Sweet sassafras, could it get any easier to save yourself some money on insurance?!”
“It’s the Ford Focus third down. Third and three yards…”
“There’s the snap–and Snapper mowers keep any lawn looking beautiful– the hand-off to Wilson, who gains four yards. If you want to keep your yard crabgrass-free, Ortho Weed-B-Gone does the job quickly and easily. Kill that crabgrass dead!”
Look, just because you can put a promotional message somewhere doesn’t mean you should put a promotional message there.
Brothers and sisters, can I get an “Amen” on this. (The previous “Amen” was brought to you by Disney’s The Princess & The Frog, showing at a theatre near you.)
Millions of Americans are upset because their New Year’s resolutions have failed already, not even one full week into 2010.
“I swore I was going to drop 140 pounds,” said 295 pound Paul Obsurlk of Destin, Florida, “but I stepped on the scale today and I’ve gained three pounds. It’s just not right and I blame Obama!”
Kim Wrallings of Beechgrove, Tennessee vowed to quit smoking on New Year’s eve, but she lit-up shortly after waking on New Year’s day. “It was like I was totally helpless,” she said lighting a cigarette off the burning ember of the one she had been smoking. “All Obama talked about when he was running was ‘hope’ and I was hoping to quit. I feel betrayed, and when I feel betrayed I smoke even more,” the angry woman said flicking her lighted butt into this reporter’s face.
In Nampa, Idaho, Will Benttonfir blames the federal government for his failure to become a marathon runner. “I swore I’d run a marathon in 2010, but when I went out on January 1 and ran to the end of the block, I threw my cookies into a neighbor’s mailbox. I’m not up for 26 miles of that kind of pain and misery. Frankly I expected more from Washington. A lot more.”
Paul Flaxmoor of Manlius, New York also blames politicians for his woes. “I was going to be a big lottery winner and get out of the hellhole of a job I’ve got. But I haven’t won diddly-squat and I’m and really disappointed in our elected officials.”
When asked how much money Flaxmoor had spent on lottery tickets, the 61-year old salesman became livid. “Tickets? What do you mean ‘tickets?’ Don’t go talking to me about technicalities!” With that, the angry man slugged this reporter in the gut.
Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the 23-year old Nigerian terrorist who tried blowing up a Detroit-bound airliner on Christmas day, has received a fruit basket from a newfound fan: Tiger Woods.
“Tiger is a generous man,” said a spokesperson who asked to remain anonymous for fear of retribution and broken limbs. “He needed someone to take the heat off him and this pants-on-fire dude fit the bill perfectly. Tiger’s hoping he gets all the spotlights and ink he can stand.”
In addition to the lovely fruit basket (complete with pears, apples, oranges and other fancy fruits– plus little Dove chocolates), Tiger included an autographed 8″ x 10″ glossy along with some very candid shots of a few of his lady friends.
“Tiger is a extremely generous man,” the silent spokesperson said. “Please don’t tell him I said anything. Please!”