. . . you know, I’m starting to think that nothing good ever happens to sole survivors in Star Trek. Like, where are my aspirational stories, man? Where are the happy endings for these castaways?
If I Can’t Have You
“Be Good To Him, And He Will Be Good To You.”
Splatterfest is poorly named. Despite the wide variety of choices my sister and I select every year, my friends–oh yes, friends, I’m throwing you under the bus!–always select the least gory contender to watch and mock. Which doesn’t mean there’s any less mockery, oh no. Joyful mockery continues to abound. Also, candy. (Like, so much candy, you guys. It’s absurd how much candy we have here.) Just one of these days, there will actually be blood spatter again. It’s been a long time since the hilarious, gooey days of Wrong Turn and House of Wax, after all.
This year, we ended up watching The Boy.
Calling it scary would be a stretch. Movies that are this easy to mock have a hard time being truly frightening. But to be fair, parts of it are kinda disturbing. It is, at any rate, more entertaining overall than the group’s last bad horror movie, The Beast Must Die–although, regrettably, there are no Werewolf Breaks in The Boy, which clearly every movie should have.
“Master, I Could Be Wrong, But That Might Not Be The Best Way to Win The Girl’s Affections.”
Continuing with Disney . . . let us now move on to my childhood favorite: Beauty and the Beast.
Objectivity may or may not not be found in this review. I have all kinds of nostalgia for this one, so expect a grade that fits said nostalgia accordingly. Still, we definitely have a sketch romance to talk about here. Not to mention: there are a surprising number of shitty people in Beauty and the Beast. Pretty much anyone who isn’t Belle or a magically animated object is kind of a dick.
Let’s discuss them, shall we?
“Impossibility is a Kiss Away From Reality.”
I first heard about Sense8 a couple of weeks before it aired on Netflix. Instantly, I was intrigued: a story about eight different people, all over the world, who become psychically linked in some way, who can share thoughts and abilities and even their own bodies with one another, eight people who are also somehow one. I thought it sounded fascinating.
Then reviews started to trickle in and they were . . . mixed, at best. Critics didn’t seem to like it at all, complaining that the show was slow, muddled, and confusing. At the same time, my Twitter feed was blowing up with mad love for Sense8, praising their in-depth, complex characters, particularly their multiple queer characters.
I figured, Well, there’s only one way to find out for yourself.
Overall, I agree more with the Twitter folks than the critics.
“I Never Met Parry. But I Know Psychologically He’s No Killer.”
When I completed my 2013 Western Challenge, I was pretty burnt out on the genre. Basically, I didn’t want to look John Wayne or Clint Eastwood in the face for months. I couldn’t say the same for film noir, though, because — bullshit romances aside — I generally enjoy private detectives more than cowboys. And when Mek pitched the idea of renting Dark Passage, a Bogart/Bacall noir where Bogie’s face is obscured for at least half the movie, I was intrigued enough to give it a try. “Sure,” I said naively. “I’m working on a bunch of stuff right now, so I probably won’t get around to reviewing it, but yeah, let’s check it out.”
But people, I had to review it. Because Dark Passage has problems. Serious problems.
“I Ain’t Done Nothing Funny.”
I’ve never had a real firm opinion of the Coen brothers. Some stuff I really like (O Brother Where Art Thou), some stuff I mostly like (True Grit), and some stuff I don’t particularly like at all (Fargo). And then, of course, there are also the films I could never quite make up my mind about (No Country for Old Men). So I kind of figured well, anything goes when I sat down to watch the Coens’ big screen film debut, Blood Simple.
It’s not without its problems, but for the most part, I enjoyed this film.
“Where Are Your Ears?”
With the upcoming Fantastic Four reboot on the horizon — well, next year — Mekaela and I made the possibly unwise decision to rewatch the original Fantastic Four.
It’s so much worse than I remembered.
“If You Need Help With the Coffin, Call Me.”
All right, people. The TV season is done. (Well, sort of. I just made a list of, like, eight summer programs I plan to check out, but at least three of those are reality or variety shows of some kind, so they don’t really count.) No excuses anymore — it’s time to go back to my list of film noir flicks. Up today?
It’s probably not the kind of movie I could watch all the time, but overall, I enjoyed Sunset Boulevard.
“How Singularly Innocent I Look This Morning.”
It’s film noir time again. Let’s head back to the classics, shall we?
I really enjoyed parts of Laura. But — in true Carlie fashion — I wanted to rework a lot of it, too. Blasphemy!
