Worst (best?) drinking game ever.
A couplea years ago we decided to play a drinking game to an awesome movie, on St. Patricks day. What could be better? Two excuses to drink excessive amounts of beer (5 cases of Henry Weinhardts if memory serves… which it may not, given what happened). Plus, the movie fit in perfectly with St. Paddy’s day, Boondock Saints. Not the second one… although that was basically the first one with a hot chick instead of William Defoe. Not that he isn’t hot… no.. no.. he really isn’t.
So, we had our veritable pyramid of beer, an awesome movie, great friends, and the perfect holiday to drink to. Now all we needed were some rules. Many drinking games require you to drink a certain number of shots / sips when specific things happen, for instance “2 shots whenever Dwight mentions animals” or “1 shot whenever the Minister mentions God”.
This, however, leads to massive confusion the more you drink.. one shot or two when Bambi’s mom bites the dust? Do I down my drink when Barney in the Simpsons drinks?
So, we decided to simplify things. Just one drink whenever one of the following happens, with ONE instance of downing everything…
Down your drink when the cat dies – A gun goes off – Someone dies – Someone swears
Simple, right? Too simple actually… Those of you who’ve seen this movie know what we were in for… For those of you who haven’t seen Boondock Saints recently (or ever), here’s a short clip that will help you understand the insanity of our proposed drinking game. (Note : violence and profanity warning). (for a longer and more painful drinking experience, check out this extended clip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gd3Sl7P0IOA, which has MORE violence and profanity).
Just in that scene alone we counted something like 300 shots fired, a dozen or so deaths, and a flood of profanity. We were counting on BOTH hands AND our toes (mind you, there was already a bunch of drinking before this scene…) and quickly ran out of digits. Assuming each beer is good for… 20 sips… that’s still 10 beers a person.. 12 beers per case means we only had 60 or so beers. It was bad. Oh, and the rest of the movie, while not as saturated with lead, is still violent and profane. Terrible idea.
Categories: Adventures Tags: beer, movie
Andy’s Movie Review of the Week (5)
12 Angry Men (1957) – *****½/*****
Yes, you read that correctly – it says 5 and a half stars out of five. I had the opportunity to watch this classic film again recently, and after two recent theater experiences that left me foaming at the mouth and seething with rage (well, maybe that’s a little strong) – namely The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus and Avatar – I think this movie deserves the extra credit to make up for a couple of really shitty years of cinema. You know the expression “They just don’t make ‘em like they used to”? People invented that saying as a way of talking about this movie. No really, look it up on Wikipedia – just give me a few more minutes to finish editing the page…
12 Angry Men, in case you didn’t know, follows the deliberation of twelve jurors charged with deciding the fate of a young man on trial for the murder of his father. At first, juror #8 (played by Henry Fonda) is the only member who casts a vote of Not Guilty, standing alone against the other eleven. As the film progresses, the men argue and debate back and forth as to the facts of the case, and Fonda’s side eventually begins to win some converts. By the end, (SPOILERS – just in case there are really some of you who don’t know) all twelve jurors are convinced that a reasonable doubt exists as to the guilt of the defendant, and so they send back a verdict of Not Guilty. That’s it. That’s the movie. Twelve people (well, twelve white males, but this was the 50s) in a room together, talking. For an hour and a half. No explosions or car chases. And it’s fucking fantastic. Think audiences today could sit through something like that? If you do, you might be in the minority – last time I checked, Avatar has made over two BILLION dollars worldwide.
But I’m probably being cynical. People have a wide range of interests, and while Avatar almost made me retch with its cardboard characters and stupid, fucking, clichéd script, I like plenty of movies of the same ilk. Yes, The Dark Knight is #10 on IMDB’s “Top 250 movies of All Time” list, but hey – 12 Angry Men is #7, three spots ahead! Lots of people love this movie, and rightly so! It’s also worth noting that the film has received a solid 100% on rottentomatoes.com, meaning every professional review they could find was positive.
This movie was filmed in an unprecedented 21 days, and only features 16 total actors: the 12 jurors, a judge, security guard, court clerk, and defendant (the last four of whom only appear for a total of something like 3 minutes on film). Ninety-five percent of the movie takes place in one room, on one set – with twelve guys in suits sitting, standing, walking, talking, and yelling. Nevertheless, the film had a budget of $350,000 – and that’s in 1950s money! Quickly adjusting for inflation, that’s approximately eleven zillion dollars in current figures, give or take a few decimal places. Hell, I think I could film a 90 minute movie consisting of twelve actors in one room for about 30 bucks, assuming I only hired close friends or hobos and paid them in cheese sandwiches. Where did the eleven zillion dollars go? It probably went to pay the salaries of all the fucking amazing actors who made a piece of art like this possible. The movie is packed with big name stars of the era, at least some of whom somebody under 80 might recognize today. But identify them or not, we can all agree that they do a fantastic job, and I’m sure my $30 remake will be lacking in a certain celluloid chemistry. These guys are badasses.
Henry Fonda will fucking cut you
This movie has been remade several times, in film or for television, but the original film came out in 1957, and is in glorious black & white. Come to think of it, 1957 was a badass year for movies in general – here’s just a teensy tiny list of some of the awesome films that came out that year: 12 Angry Men, Paths of Glory, Sweet Smell of Success, The Bridge on the River Kwai, The Seventh Seal, and, uh… Jailhouse Rock, with Elvis. One of these things may not be like the others, but the fact remains that the film industry of today pales in comparison to the Hollywood of yesteryear in many respects.
If 12 Angry Men came out today, it would probably be called 12 Raging Robots, be directed by Michael Bay, and feature 987 discrete scenes of computer generated explosions and car flips. It just goes to show that truly great, timeless movies don’t require an overload of computer generated effects to be successful, just great actors and a solid script – so suck it, Avatar.
Neytiri: Jakesully, why are you so angry? Jake: Because no matter how much money this movie makes, we'll never be 1/10 as cool as a bunch of dead guys in suits.
Andy’s Movie Review of the Week (4)
Well, I’ve been bad about keeping up with these supposedly weekly movie reviews. However, after seeing The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus in the theater yesterday, I was inspired to put my feelings about the film into writing. I have never walked out of a movie before, but during Parnassus last night I came very close – the only thing keeping me in my seat was the realization that I couldn’t speak fairly of the movie if I didn’t watch the entire thing, from beginning to end. So, with that, I feel comfortable giving this film the following review:
The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus – *½ / *****
Parnassus is the latest film from director Terry Gilliam, of Monty Python fame. Gilliam is certainly a unique director, creating such visionary feats as Brazil, Time Bandits, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Twelve Monkeys, and one of my personal favorites, the very faithful and trippy adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. In his Python days, Gilliam was primarily responsible for the fantastic and whimsical animation which was often used as filler in between live skits, and he carried this imaginative and psychedelic style into his film career.
Though Terry Gilliam’s movies are visually striking and creative, they often suffer from a lack of narrative cohesion and clarity, especially when the inspiration springs mainly from the mind of Gilliam himself. In the past, this naive, wandering creativity has not lessened the quality of the director’s efforts, and has even added a layer of innocent mystery to his cinematic fantasies. However, in most of his previous films, the meandering of the story and chaotic effects have been counterbalanced by fine acting and very clever screenwriting – and Gilliam is able to keep us interested while he dazzles us with his dramatic visuals. These qualities of acting and writing are unfortunately absent in Parnassus, leaving the poor viewer with a curious but hollow mess of a film. It is a potentially interesting idea executed very poorly.
The film tells the tale of Dr. Parnassus (Christopher Plummer), a centuries-old storyteller who made a bet with the devil (portrayed by Tom Waits) in which he won immortality. Parnassus and his troupe travel around performing a stage act in which audience members are invited to take a journey into fantastical imaginary worlds with the aid of a magical mirror. When someone steps into the mirror, she is transported to a world of her dreams, where she is guided by the doctor’s influence to a point of decision: She must choose between two paths, the long, arduous road to virtue, or the short and easy decent into vice. Due to another deal with the devil in years past which won Parnassus the heart of a beautiful young woman, the mystical doctor now owes the prince of hell his only daughter, Valentina (Lily Cole), on her rapidly approaching sixteenth birthday. However, Gilliam’s devil cannot resist the urge to gamble, and makes Parnassus another wager: He will spare Valentina if the doctor can manage to save five souls (by guiding them to choose the virtuous path) before the devil can corrupt the same number.
The doctor’s traveling troupe is rounded out by a young rogue named Anton (Andrew Garfield), and a dwarf who goes by the name of Percy, portrayed by Hollywood’s go-to short man, Verne Troyer. As they make their way through the streets of London, the gang happens upon Heath Ledger’s Tony, a man with a mysterious past who joins the traveling show and attempts to win the heart of the virginal Valentina, much to the chagrin of Anton. This film was, of course, Ledger’s last – he died before filming had even been completed. Due to this unfortunate fact, production was halted while the remaining scenes with Tony were recast with Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell- who stand in for Ledger in various mirror-inspired fantasies, so as (supposedly) not to break the continuity of the viewing experience.
However, my viewing experience was hardly one of continuity – the only elements which remained constant throughout the film were the horribly unfortunate acting of most of the cast, Troyer especially, and the abominable screenplay which is senseless when it’s not excruciatingly bad. The story is obtuse and pointless at best, with a script that made me physically cringe several times in the theater. Did I mention that Verne Troyer can’t act? This might be his worst role; I cannot fathom how anyone could deliver lines with less passion or worse comedic timing. Although, to be fair to Troyer, a third-grader could have written better dialogue.
Perhaps the strangest thing about Parnassus is the fact that the whole film seems like a thinly-veiled morality play for the virtues of the religious Right. We’re presented with a black and white, Manichean duality between good and evil, where every earthly inhabitant must choose to abstain from sinful acts or else fall under Satan’s spell and be damned for eternity to Hell. Through obvious symbolism, heavy-handed dialogue, and clumsy turning points in the plot, Gilliam is basically warning us not to drink, smoke, lie, gamble, or engage in premarital sex. Watch for the signs, they’re all there – each of these vices is covered, with the implication that should we choose to engage in any of these activities the devil will have us by the balls, so to speak. And then there’s my favorite line in the whole film: “It’s a child, not a choice!” Real subtle.
And considering that the film’s main selling point (besides the fact that it was Ledger’s final movie) is supposed to be it’s imaginative and stimulating visual effects, I have to admit I was thoroughly underwhelmed by the quality of the CG effects throughout. When Tom Waits turned into a giant snake I couldn’t help but snicker – I’ve seen better computer graphics in 10-year old films. How can a director in this day and age get away with such shoddy workmanship – especially when so many people were eagerly anticipating the movie. It’s unfortunate that Ledger’s final role couldn’t have been his portrayal of the Joker in The Dark Knight. Although the writing and directing in that film also irked me to no end, Ledger’s performance easily made the experience worthwhile, and it was a much more memorable role than any to come out of this steaming pile of cinematic waste.
Andy’s Movie of the Week (3)
Empire of the Sun – ****
Stephen Spielberg gets a bum rap. Sure, he’s produced some shlock, and his directorial artistry is not as refined as some – but no director has batted a thousand, and some of Spielberg’s hits have been huge. Jaws, the original Indiana Jones trilogy, Amistad, Saving Private Ryan – all very strong films, and for different reasons. Schindler’s List is unquestionably a masterpiece. Hook, E.T., and Jurassic Park were all a major part of my childhood, and I think they’re often maligned more than they deserve. No, I think Stephen Spielberg gets so much hate mainly because it’s fashionable to talk bad about him – although believe me, I have my qualms with some of his choices in the last decade or so.
With that disclaimer, the film I will be discussing today is his 1987 Empire of the Sun, about a young English boy named Jim (portrayed by an astonishingly young Christian Bale no less) living in China with his parents in the early 1940s. When Japan invades, Jim is separated from his parents, and winds up falling in with Americans Basie, played by an eccentric John Malkovich, and Frank (Joe Pantoliano). They end up in a Japanese internment camp, where Basie takes Jim under his wing and turns him into quite an artful dodger, who must hustle and use his wits to survive. Interestingly, Jim develops a bizarre respect for his Japanese captors, and often daydreams about being a fighter pilot.
The film is based on a 1984 novel of the same name by James Graham Ballard, a semi-autobiographical account drawing on the author’s own experiences in a Japanese interment camp.
Neither of the main characters – played by Bale and Malkovich – are incredibly likeable, but it’s hard not to sympathize with them, and their relationship over the course of the film is compelling. I also found it interesting to track the allusions to Oliver Twist, as well as what I perceived as homages to the works and styles of Stanley Kubrick and David Lean, which make the movie appreciable on a different level. The film is also very visually striking, with excellent uses of color and shape throughout, and simple yet effective framing which creates several breath-taking stills. Appropriately, circles, and especially the sun, are a recurring motif throughout the film – and the sun theme is spectacularly paralleled in a climactic scene in which Jim witnesses the explosion of the atom bomb over Nagasaki – simply haunting.
The film is fairly long, at around two and a half hours, although aside from a bit of meandering here and there the length is not a detriment to the overall cohesion of the film. The musical score, although including some beautiful pieces by John Williams, can be somewhat heavy-handed at times, and indeed this is both one of Spielberg’s strengths and his weaknesses. When it works, it works well, but in Empire of the Sun the use of music is hit or miss in evoking the appropriate emotions. Overall, however, the experience is an extremely enjoyable one – and this is one of Spielberg’s lesser-known gems.
Things to watch for: Beautiful score by John Williams; a very young and talented Christian Bale; use of color and shape; parallels or allusions to Dickens as well as the works of other directors
Bonus: This film is also available to Netflix subscribers online.
Andy’s Movie of the Week (2)
Okay, I realize it’s not a new week yet – but in honor of the Halloween holiday I’m doing a special edition of the weekly movie review to take a look at a horror classic!
Night of the Living Dead – *** ½
The 1968 Night of the Living Dead was director George Romero’s first film, and set the tone for the rest of his 40-year career – a career dominated by “zombie” horror films. As Romero’s directorial debut, this film helped create the zombie genre that has had widespread and mainstream appeal in the past decade especially. Without Night of the Living Dead, there would have likely been no Dawn of the Dead, Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland, or any of the myriad other “zombie” films, books, or video games. The very concept of a shambling reanimated corpse yearning to devour human flesh seems to have been invented or at least popularized by this film, and its importance should not be overlooked!
This movie is not only historically important for having created a horror genre, it is a chillingly horrific film in its own right. Shot on a fairly low budget, the film relies on eerie black and white, a small, previously unknown cast, and claustrophobic settings to create a sense of hopelessness and dread. There is a colorized version of Night floating around, but the film loses a great deal of its impact when the stark contrast between light and dark is taken away from the black and white original. The use of light in the film is reminiscent of the works of Alfred Hitchcock, although this movie explores territory into which even Hitchcock never dared to tread – it was ahead of its time in 1968 in its gruesome portrayal of the cannibalistic ghouls (never referred to as “zombies” in the film), which, although tame by modern standards, is even more effective than most modern gore-fests due to its relative restraint.
Night of the Living Dead opens with siblings Barbara, played by Judith O’Dea, and Johnny (Russell Streiner) visiting their father’s grave in a rural cemetery. Unexpectedly, and inexplicably, the pair is attacked by an aggressive, shambling man, who knocks down and kills Johnny and pursues Barabara out of the graveyard. Barbara escapes to a nearby farmhouse, and is soon joined by a resourceful man named Ben (Duane Jones), who helps fight off more encroaching ghouls and defend Barbara, turning the farmhouse into a kind of stronghold. They soon discover that a middle-aged couple, their daughter, and a teenage couple are hiding in the basement of the home, and the interplay among the seven while they attempt to hold out in the surrounded house takes up the remainder of the film.
The suspense is built over the course of the film by revealing more information about the strange phenomenon of the living dead. At first, there is no explanation or background as to the origins of or reasons for the ghoulish attacks, but as Ben tells the story of how he arrived at the house, we learn a little more about the situation outside. As Ben and Barbara interact with the other characters in the house and continue to fight off the zombies, we discover even more about what the creatures are capable of, and a possible explanation for the situation is overheard on the radio and seen on a television. The characters of the film learn with the audience, and this parallel progression helps us put ourselves in their shoes and feel some of the same terror and confusion that the characters experience. The film definitely gets creepier as it goes.
Don’t miss this Halloween classic!
They’re coming to get you, Barbara…
Things to watch for: Interplay between light and shadow; gradual introduction of key players and plot elements; hallmark 1960s camera angles and dramatic scoring; early “zombie” fighting techniques and weapons of choice; cabin fever; elements which eventually became clichés in similar genre films
Bonus: There are several places online where you can watch the entire movie for free!
Andy’s Movie of the Week
Paths of Glory – *****
This black and white Stanley Kubrick film came early in the director’s career (1957), but already his artistic genius and vision were easy to spot.
Like so many of Kubrick’s later films, almost every significant frame in Paths of Glory is a work of art unto itself, and the editing and timing of each scene are top-notch. The film was ahead of its time in several ways, and also represents a sort of turning point in Kubrick’s body of works. It had taken him the better part of the Fifties to get into his stride, but every single film from Paths onward was an artistic achievement in its own way. Some are stronger than others, and this, the first of his stylistically mature films, is definitely one of the strongest.
Paths is based on Humphrey Cobb’s 1935 book of the same name, about a group of French soldiers in the first World War who, after a failed attack on a fortified German position, are selected by their commanding General to stand trial for cowardice and treason. The cinematic adaptation ranks with 1930′s All Quiet on the Western Front as one of the finest films on the subject of World War I, as well as one of the strongest anti-war films of all time, certainly one of the most powerful to come out of the 1950s. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the film was banned in Francisco Franco’s fascist Spain, but it was also banned in France for several years after its release likely due to its unflattering portrayal of the hierarchy of command in the French army.
Stanley Kubrick’s breathtaking directorial style isn’t the only noteworthy element in Paths of Glory – the film is also held up by a number of fantastic performances from a diverse range of actors. The star of the show is undoubtedly Kirk Douglas, better known for his role as Spartacus in Kubrick’s film of the same name (which was, interestingly, Kubrick’s very next film after Paths). Douglas plays Colonel Dax, the upstanding and idealistic commander of the unit who makes the ill-fated attack, acting against his better judgment under the orders of his self-serving commanding officer General Paul Mireau, who is quite memorably portrayed by George Macready. Adolphe Menjou, for whom the Menjou
moustache is named (yeah, that’s right, he has a moustache named after him) is the deceptively clueless General Broulard, who’s actions, in their own way, are even more disturbing than Mireau’s efforts to make scapegoats out of the innocent soldiers under his incompetent command.
Although the three main players mentioned above are the top-billed stars in the film, Paths of Glory would not have nearly the power it does if not for the very believable and human performances of the soldiers in Dax’s unit, most notably perhaps Timothy Carey as one of the three soldiers being court-martialed, whose breakdown in the face of the injustice being committed against him is heart-wrenching to watch.
The writing is also top-shelf, and there are some brilliant scenes of dialogue between Dax and Broulard, as well as among the convicted
soldiers. I especially enjoyed this exchange between Corporal Paris and Carey’s Private Ferol as they are awaiting execution:
Paris: See that cockroach? Tomorrow morning, we’ll be dead and it will be alive. It’ll have more contact with my wife and child than I will. I’ll be nothing, and it’ll be alive.
[Ferol smashes the cockroach]
Ferol: Now you’ve got the edge on him.
The film ends very strongly, with an emotional and symbolic scene of Dax’s surviving soldiers drinking in a bar, where the patron brings out a German woman to sing and entertain the French fighting men. The soldiers’ cat-calls and jeers gradually fall silent as they listen to the girl’s mournful yet proud song, and by the end many are in tears as the whole squad hums along to her tune. Dax, after seeing his men undergo this thoughtful transformation, receives word that his unit has been ordered back to the front lines – a fate from which few will likely return.
Sgt. Boulanger: Sir, you have orders to move back to the front immediately.
Col. Dax: Well, give the men a few moments more, Sergeant.
Over a million and a half French were killed in World War I, nearly five percent of the country’s population at the time.
Things to watch for: Use of lighting; long, tracking camera motion; tasteful close-ups; beautifully written dialogue; very realistic portrayal of WWI trench warfare; subtle performances of minor characters; exquisite use of sound/quiet to set mood
Bonus: If you have Netflix, you can watch Paths of Glory instantly online!
