“Have You Guessed Who The Werewolf Is?”

Splatterfest 2015 has come and gone. Junk food was procured and devoured, bad horror movies were rented and voted upon. The movie my friends chose to watch: The Beast Must Die, a 1974 horror whodunnit starring Grand Moff Tarkin and Albus Dumbledore.

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The premise is fantastic, just full of cheesy good potential. There’s even a Werewolf Break! (It may be the best thing I’ve ever seen.) Unfortunately, the rest of the film . . . well, the rest of the film leaves a lot to be desired.

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“Boy, Have We Got a Vacation For You.”

Next year, HBO will be airing a new television series, a genre-bending western about killer robots. Said series is called Westworld, and if “western” plus “killer robots” wasn’t enough to excite you (you clearly unexcitable heathen), it’s also got an interesting cast (Ben Barnes, Ed Harris, Anthony Hopkins, James Marsden, Thandie Newton, Jimmi Simpson, Evan Rachel Wood, etc.) and is being helmed by Jonathan Nolan, who, yes, is related to Christopher Nolan, and is also the dude who created the pretty fantastic Person of Interest. So, yeah, I’m definitely hopeful.

But this isn’t a review of that show. This is a review of the source material its adapted from: Westworld, the 1973 western about killer robots.

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The pacing is a little rough sometimes and there are some damn silly things about it, but ultimately I enjoyed watching this movie.

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“You Still Picking Your Feet in Poughkeepsie?”

The movies that I tend to find interesting are rarely the kind of movies that win for Best Picture. There are exceptions, obviously (Chicago, Silence of the Lambs, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King), but in general, I’m not drawn to the kind of film that gains accolades by the Academy.

This year, however, I’ve challenged myself to watch twelve of these movies. And already I regret it a little — do you know how long Gone With the Wind is? 238 minutes. That is two minutes shy of FOUR HOURS. For Christ’s sake, even RotK isn’t that long (The non-extended version anyway. The extended version is longer, but only by twelve minutes.)

So, I figured, You know, Carlie, let’s ease into this. We don’t need to start with the four hour plantation epic. There’s no reason to begin with the Holocaust movie that’s probably going to make you cry into your pillow all week. Let’s pick a movie closer to your own interests, starring actors that you generally enjoy. Cops. Drug dealers. Gene Hackman. Roy Scheider. This isn’t going to be so hard.

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But somedays my blog is aptly named because wow, did I not like The French Connection.

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“Popularity is the Slutty, Little Cousin of Prestige.”

I watched a trailer for Birdman last June, and I thought it looked, well, interesting. But I didn’t figure I’d actually go see it in theater, mostly because it didn’t seem like my sister’s kind of movie, and also because I’m a lazy bastard who often has to be coaxed out of the house with the promise of treats. But a friend hit me up the other day and asked if I wanted to see it.

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It’s, well. It’s interesting.

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“I Am Catwoman. Hear Me Roar.”

The Avengers was awesome. This must be said. (And then repeated. And then possibly even sung.) But The Avengers is not the only gigantic superhero movie coming to a theater near you this summer. There’s a certain trilogy by Christopher Nolan that has to wrap up, which means I have a fair number of reviews to finish before July 28th.

So let’s get back to it, shall we?

I definitely have all kinds of childhood nostalgia for this movie. Doesn’t make the Missile Penguins any less stupid, though.

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“Fuck Me, Freddy.”

As of last Tuesday, my friend Robyn had never seen the atrocity that is the movie Dreamcatcher. And since my sister and I had been meaning to watch it again for years now—just to see if it was quite as horrible as we remembered it being—we happily rented the film when we went to visit her.

In a word: yes. It is.

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