The Hangover II

Look, I'm the first to admit that we shouldn't judge a sequel by the first generation flick that spawned it. It's seriously unfair; sequels, like any work of art, should be judged on its own merit.

But . . .

The producers of The Hangover II make it difficult not to compare it to the origional. The same cast is used, despite the near-impossible plotline that allow supporting cast members to be involved. The same comedic scenarios from the first movie that made me laugh until snot came out my nose was used in this re-tread: somebody jumped outta a locked container, surprising the audience and The Wolfpack; cars were destroyed by mobsters; the boys have a run-in with cops; something is stolen during the night of drunken-ness that must be returned the next day.

The same old same old can be funny, I suppose. But it really isn't good art. It's a rip-off, and an obvious one at that.

The Hangover II earned over $100 million dollars over Memorial Day weekend, including $20 cash money from my pocket.

I feel like I just bought a blue velvet Elvis painting from a road-side vender.

Randy Savage Dies At 58

My brother and I discovered Randy Savage before his WWF glory days, before Miss Elizabeth and his love/hate relationship with Hulk Hogan.

Each Saturday in the early 80s the two of us would turn on the TV at 1pm to watch International Championship Wrestling. ICW was based in Kentucky, and owned by Savage's father, Angelo Paffo. Paffo ran an interesting promotion, complete with terrific talent and great story lines.

One of my favorite pro wrasslin' moments happend at an ICW taping. Ronnie Garvin hit Ox Baker in the mouth, knocked out Baker's false teeth, then stomped on them to dust in the ring. It wasn't a work, it was real. And really entertaining.

Savage and his brother, Leaping Lannie, had a great run in ICW before moving on to the WWF. They were great ring workers, and knew how to tell a story.

Randy Savage died today in Florida at age 58.

Thank you for all the memories.

Love And Other Drugs

There are many reasons to like Love And Other Drugs. There's Anne Hathaway's emotional performance, and her class-yet-sexy nude scenes. There's Jake Gyllenhall's mature, steady performance that that shows he's successfully making the transition to leading man. There's the in-depth look at some of the most important social topics of the last decade, namely health care and greed.

Did I mention Hathaway's nude scenes?

Despite all these positives, I didn't really care for the film. Or maybe I did. I'm unsure, and that's the problem with Love And Other Drugs. It lukewarm at best, despite solid performances and interesting storyline. The film starts zany and ends serious, and that uncertainty about what the film intends to be may be it's downfall.

The flicks worth seeing; just don't expect to be thinking about it the next day.

The King's Speech

I noticed several years ago, while walking through a hallway in a speech clinic that serves as a pre-professional training facility, a display of informational posters dedicated to speech disorders. Each was dedicated to teaching the public something about common disorders of articulation, anatomy, etc., with cutesy titles and cool visuals. One of the posters caught my eye; near the center of the display, in bold, beautifully colored blue letters, was a poster titled:

"Stu-Stu-Stu-Stuttering."

I was heartbroken.

What the poster told me, despite the best intentions of the author, was that the condition of stuttering was more important to the clinic than the individuals who come there for help. The clinic saw the condition as their primary focus, and the people who came there as simply the way in which the disorder was delivered to them.

Clearly, there was no thought given to how that title would affect the hundreds of people who came to the clinic weekly for treatment.

I hope the administrators of that speech clinic require students to watch The King's Speech. If they do, they will see that disorders -- of articulation, or anything else for that matter -- are simply one part in an otherwise full life of individuals. People are not defined by, nor should they be identified by, a label. When therapists realize that the deep, personal connection with clients helps build trust and leads to a reduction of symptoms, they become better clinicians.

Lionel Logue knew this. And King George VI benefited from it. And The King's Speech shows the process beautifully.

The Rabbit Hole

It's probably cliche to begin with a discussion of how immense the pain resulting from the death of one's child would be. It's almost an unimaginable consideration, sort of like the "Who created God?" puzzle that ten year olds play with at night when they can't fall asleep.

"What would I do if..." I start, but can't finish. As if my simply uttering the rest of the sentence would put the act in motion.

Cliche or not, this is the perspective The Rabbit Hole brings to the audience. Lead by Nicole Kidman, who also produced the film, The Rabbit Hole takes the audience into the horrific world of parents who suffer from the death of their child.

A world where pleasure and recreation are avoided. Where any focus shifted off of grief and loss is met with guilt. A world inhabited by regular people trying to work through extraordinary circumstances. The sort of circumstances people should never, ever, have to face.

Thankfully, Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart go through it for me. With brilliance, with grace, and with authenticity.

One of the gems found in The Rabbit Hole is the relationship formed between Kidman's character and the teen who accidentally killed her son. It's a fragile relationship, and beautiful to watch evolve. Miles Teller is amazing in the role of Jason; his teen is angelic and angst, simultaneously.

I can't ponder the question, but I can watch others act out the experience and learn from it. And it's a lesson I never want to experience in real life.

Huntington, WV, On the Fly

I first became aware of Harvey Pekar in the 80s,when the American Splendor author did several guest spots on Late Night With David Letterman. Back in the 80s it seemed Dave was mostly throwing watermelons off high buildings, dressing up in Velcro suites and clinging to fabric-covered walls, or sparring with Pekar.

Pekar usually won.

Pekar died last summer at age 70. Before he passed away, though, Pekar spent time in Huntington, WV, where he participated in a book signing, then did a cameo in the independent film The Comic Book Lady.

His re-telling of that experience is in his latest book, Huntington, WV, On The Fly. You can pick up a copy at Comic World, at 4th Avenue and 12th Street.

One of the things I like best about this book is that it showcases a few Huntingtonians I know. Pekar gets the subtle charm and genuineness of Kathleen, the owner of Comic World, and the sincerity (and correct verbal rhythm) of her friend Shayne. Perhaps most fun for me, however, was seeing how my old friend Eric Meadows is portrayed in the book: quick-witted, slinging out dialogue with densely-packed references about movies few have heard of, and wearing funny hats.
 That's my buddy Eric!

Stop by Comic World and get a copy of Pekar's latest. And have them sign it for you before you go. It'll make a good read even better.

Get Low

Although we pretend not to care much of the time, most of us would like to know for sure what others really think of us. Not the things people say to our face, which are mostly polite and superficial. We wanna know the real things that real people -- especially the people we care about most -- think about us as we walk through life's journey.

And as much as we want to know what others think of us, sometimes we have things we want to say to others.Things we need to get off our chest. Things we feel we gotta say before we take that final breath.

Some of us do that in a poetic, soulful way.



Others, like Get Low's Felix Bush and me, do it in a more socially awkward, pensive manner.

Like Bush, played masterfully by Robert Duvall, there are things I'd like to say to some folks before I get put under. Unlike Bush, however, I'm not gonna hold a Alive Funeral Party to serve as the gathering place for me to vent all that stuff off my chest.

I'm much more likely to write it in a long blogpost. Where no one will ever read it anyway.

Film Scenes That Matter: Airplane!

Blue Valentine

Don't let the movie poster fool you.

This movie has little to do with romance, and even less to do with two hip 20-somethings posed to look like a Calvin Klein ad.

Blue Valentine details the disolution of Dean and Cindy's marriage. Built of a shakey foundation, the couple lose themeselves in the day-to-day stressors of life, and the insecurities that plague the best of relationships.

It's the sort of stuff that gives one The Danny Gut.

Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams are fantastic as the leads, and carry the film with their incredible talents. The film flashes back and forth between their current relationship and the lives they lead at the time they first meet. The characters were quite different; in effect, then, Gosling and Williams each play two characters in the flick.

Blue Valentine is gritty, and often difficult to watch. It's also brilliant; the use of improvised dialogue and different film formats make this movie something special

Limitless

Limitless, the Neil Burger directed flick that probably went by the working title: "Bradley Cooper Cleans Up Real Good," gives the audience insight into what life might be like if we could master 100% of our brain capacity.

The results are that we become even more selfish, more dangerous, and more destructive. Who woulda figured?

Like some of Burger's other films, Limitless uses interesting visual tricks and imagery to tell the story and keep the audience focus. The acting, especially that by De Niro, seems flat by comparison. The ending attempts to be clever, but is predictable and annoying.

Even for someone like me whose percentage of brain control is in the single digits.