Movies I Grew Up With: House Party

Thursday Movie Picks: Teen Comedies

Against the Crowd Blogathon: The Kubrick Klassick Worse Than a Michael Bay Flick

Last week, I decided to start a blogathon in which we bloggers get to rant against the popular opinion. The rules are simple:

1. Pick one movie that "everyone" loves (the more iconic, the better). That movie must have a score of at least 80% on rottentomatoes.com. Tell us why you hate it.

2. Pick one movie that "everyone" hates (the more notorious, the better). That movie must have a score of less than 30% on rottentomatoes.com. Tell us why you love it.

3. Include the tomato meter scores of both movies.

Easy-peasy, right?

Like some have expressed, it was easy picking out a movie I hated that most people loved. I can instantly name dozens of them. My first thought was to go with the movie that inspired the idea for this blogathon, Dallas Buyers Club. It didn't quite work for me. I figured that would be lazy since I just reviewed it a couple weeks ago. Besides,  I don't actually hate it. My next thought was The Tree of Life, which I did flat out hate, but I've also reviewed that. I decided to go with the movie The Tree of Life most reminds me of...

2001: A Space Odyssey

95%

I know. It's a classic. I know. It's one of the most influential movies of all time. I know. It's a groundbreaking cinematic achievement. I know. I know all that and there is lots more you want to tell me about this movie. Yawn.

I hate this movie.

More accurately, I don't think I've ingested enough mind-altering substances to fully appreciate it. To me, it was an excruciatingly boring experience. Five minute long shots of objects floating around are snore inducing and scream pretentious to me. Sure its got great visuals but do we have to dawdle on each one, forever? Put bluntly, there is no good reason this movie is nearly two and a half hours long.

None.

I understand fully what Stanley Kubrick was trying to do with this movie. Unfortunately, it just became a self-indulgent exercise in film technique. I cannot deny that the man gave us a number of iconic shots and even a much ballyhooed finale, it just should have gotten to the point a hell of a lot quicker. I mean like 90 minutes quicker. That's approximately how much time he spends in a circle jerk with the cinematographer and the composer. Again, these are beautiful pictures. I don't stare at pictures for longer than a few seconds no matter how great they are. It only takes a couple moments to figure out that it looks like the Mona Lisa's eyes are following you. No need to keep ogling the damn thing. If these shots are limited to a reasonable amount of time, you get the same story playing out in much less time and it is unquestionably the greatest short film ever produced. As it is, it's us watching a few guys practice making a movie.

Yup, I mentioned the composer. The score is a breathtaking piece of music. When paired with objects floating hypnotically about for what seems like hours it adds to the unbearable pretentiousness of it all. The sounds emanating from the speakers seem to be screaming "Look at this, it's some important shit!" It also becomes part of the giant sleeping pill that is this movie. I'm not even joking about this. It took me several attempts to get through this as it just dragged my eyelids toward the ground. I made my last attempt only after a very long and fulfilling nap. Even this was a struggle. Try this at home: put on any piece of classical music (no offense to classical music fans), grab any picture in your house, and stare intently at it for the duration of the piece you're listening to. Zzzzzz....

zzzzzz...cmmmp cmmmp... ...Ahem...where was I?

Oh yeah, watching 2001 was a thankless chore I'll make every effort to not repeat.

On the other hand, this is a movie I have and will watch repeatedly...

Bad Boys II

 23%

Yup, it's a Michael Bay movie. It's not just any old Michael Bay movie, either. It's pretty much everything us critics hate him for all rolled up into one noisy package. Everything and then some goes boom, the humor is crass, Gabrielle Union's supposedly seasoned vet FBI agent is reduced to a beautiful, but helpless damsel in distress, and yes there are a good deal of unnecessary slow motion shots.

You know what?

It works.

I enjoy the ridiculous shoot out with the Jamaican drug dealers. I have fun watching a truck full of cars being dumped all over the freeway as our heroes chase them down. I laugh hysterically when Martin Lawrence accidentally takes some Ecstasy. For two hours and change I forget Michael Bay subjected me to Armageddon, Pearl Harbor, and far too many Transformers movies.

The biggest reason for how enjoyable I find this movie is the chemistry between our heroes: Will Smith and Martin Lawrence. It was very good and helped carry the first Bad Boys. Here, it's taken to a few notches higher. Their back and forths are plain hilarious. Their ad libbing elevates Bay's juvenile humor to rib tickling art.

Now, I have to speak about my favorite scene.

Martin Lawrence's daughter is about to go out on her first date. When the lucky young man knocks on the door, he is greeted by an angry Lawrence and a liquor swilling, gun waving Smith. They scare the poor boy to death. Damn your meditative journey through mankind, your iconic score, and the sci-fi masterpiece they created. This shit is cinematic gold. My brother and I both have daughters that just became teenagers. We've vowed to re enact this scene at each others' houses.

Call us stupid.

Fear for our daughters' love lives.

Just don't tell me 2001 is better than Bad Boys II.

Big Momma's: Like Father, Like Son

Directed by John Whitesell.

2011. Rated PG-13, 107 minutes.
Cast:
Martin Lawrence
Brandon T. Jackson
Jessica Lucas
Michelle Ang
Tony Curran
Ana Ortiz
Marc John Jeffries
Portia Doubleday
Henri Lubatti
Ken Jeong

Certain people are lucky I’ve not yet been named Supreme Ruler of the Universe. Cataclysmic events may have erupted the very moment it came to my attention that the ever-invisible and unquestionably guilty “they” were going to make another Big Momma’s House. Without doubt “they” would be immediately banished to the farthest reaches of my jurisdiction. By “they” I mean anyone involved with any movie in the series. Being a benevolent monarch I would save two souls who had the misfortune of appearing in the original. One would be Paul Giamatti who’s done all sorts of good since that time. The other is Nia Long, who was actually in the first two BM movies. She gets a pass because I’ve been in love with her ever since that fateful night in 1991 when she introduced herself to me as Brandi in Boyz N the Hood. Thankfully, neither of them are here. And “here” is where I am: watching a movie that not only violates this king’s first rule of sequels, but one which by its mere existence is evidence of an actively waged war against original thought.

If you were wondering, this king’s first rule of sequels is this: If a movie sucks, there should not be a sequel. Of course, this assumes the first BM did indeed suck. Whether you like it matters not. In my kingdom, I am the sole judge of good and suckiness. As such I have deemed it terrible. Armed with this knowledge you should be amazed at the audacity it took to make a third movie in the franchise. The nerve! To the guillotine with them! Off with their heads!

Wait. I’ve not told you what this atrocity is about. To refresh your memory of the basic franchise construct, Malcolm (Lawrence) is an FBI agent who occasionally dresses up like an old lady to solve crimes. This time he’s working a highly dangerous case completely by himself. Strike one. His stepson Trent (Jackson) has just been accepted to Duke University. However, he would rather pursue his rap career than go to college. Strike two. Oh no, no, no. Don’t go jumping to conclusions. The strike is not for him wanting to follow his dreams, especially since anyone who knows me understands I am a rap fan. The strike is because we’re supposed to believe that this guy is intelligent enough to gain acceptance into a school known for high academic standards yet he does nothing smart in the entire movie. As a result of the first of Trent’s not-so-smart moves, he winds up witnessing the bad guy murder an informant over an incriminating flash drive we’ve already learned is hidden at an all-girls school for the arts. Yup, you guessed it: the only way our heroes can get their hands on the drive is to dress up like women and go undercover at the school. Absolutely nothing funny ensues. Strike three. Sigh.

I know what you’re thinking: ‘Sire, if in this fantasy you truly are Supreme Ruler of the Universe why would you bother to watch this?’ It’s really rather simple. A good king wants to keep his subjects as happy as possible. Executions and other scare tactics used to keep them in line are messy and best reserved for the most heinous crimes. Diplomacy is often the better choice for the morale of the kingdom. With this in mind, I’ve noticed that the peasants often take their cues from the Queen. You know the old saying: if mama ain’t happy…yada yada. Logically, she must be appeased from time to time. In other words, the Queen decided upon the evening’s entertainment.

MY SCORE: 0/10