Brett Ratner has not endeared himself to me...

I don't mind action movies. Don't mind them at all. Some of my best friends are action movies and I actually like Michael Bay movies... I don't even mind Pearl Harbour which, apparently (don't quote me on this), is Barack Obama's favourite, too (he likes the bit where Kate Beckinsale and Josh Hartnett do it in the parachute warehouse... apparently).

I like Michael Bay because, a) he does not give a shit; if he wants to put a fucking explosion in a shot, he'll put a fucking explosion in a shot, even if there's nothing there which could actually physically explode and b) you gotta admit, he's got a visual style. If you can't stand him, fine, you're not the only one, if you think he's everything that's wrong with modern commercial filmmaking, that's cool - again, there are so many people who would agree with you. But if you only pay him one compliment, ever... you gotta say, he's got an eye for visuals.

My point is... he's not as bad as Brett Ratner. Brett fucking Ratner. Can a man ever really dislike another man whom he has never met and of whom he has only really ever experienced through the vicarious medium of visual entertainment?

Well, it turns out that, yes, he can dislike him.

Brett Ratner fucking fascinates me in a bad way. This is a director that started out making shitty, shitty, shitty music videos for Mariah Carey and progressed to making shitty, shitty, shitty movies... for normal people. His style, as far as I can gather, is to point a camera at his actors and yell: 'Act. ACT!' He has no understanding of pace, or plot or narrative, and cares so little for his audience that he actually made X-Men 3 as a way of punishing the public for not liking his earlier and shittier Hannibal Lecter sequel, Red Dragon.

You remember how awful X-Men 3 was? Remember asking yourself during the movie: what's going on? How can anyone who had any love for the subject material have smeared this celluloid turd on the face of the world? How can anyone, knowing how much the fans invested emotionally in the previous two have made a movie which betrayed that investment so much?

Well... the twist is, he literally was trying to hurt you.

I'm not a casual Ratner hater. It's not the news that he's potentially moving on to direct and ruin a new series of Conan the Barbarian movies, that got me riled. No; I've paid special attention to Brett Ratner's bland, derivative career and feel like, every time he squeezed out another film, I suffered each punishing critical blow with him. I've also experienced the same sense of stunned disbelief that he must feel every time he is handed his next directing gig.

And the temple to his awfulness, the absolute zenith of his mediocrity, has to be the beloved Rush Hour saga. I can't think of anything that hasn't already been said of these unfunny, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, boring, sexist, racist, confusing, innacurate, racist series of racist films other than to pose a series of level-headed questions about the third installment in the franchise: Rush Hour 3.

Look how uncomfortable Jackie Chan looks. I feel really sorry for him.

If anyone can answer just one of these questions satisfactorily then... I don't know. I'll send Brett Ratner a postcard saying sorry for hurting his feelings or whatever.

So without further ado:

A series of questions on Rush Hour 3, which Brett Ratner MUST answer to stop me making those abusive phone calls to his house.

Questions are pretty synchronized with the film, Rush Hour 3 (which is set in Paris, by the way, presumably because being racist just to black and chinese americans was not considered funny enough for the third installment):

• Why has Carter been deemed fit for traffic police duty when he displays such repeated incompetence and casual racism?
• If Carter has indeed been demoted for (again) racially motivated incompetence, how is it that he is allowed to accompany Lee, a detective, on an investigation – doesn’t the chief refuse to reinstate him?
  
• Why does Lee tolerate Carter’s constant racist diatribes about ‘Asian people’?
  
• Why is a traffic cop allowed to accompany a detective on a mission to Paris; aren’t there complicated rules about policemen conducting investigations in foreign countries?
  
• How does Carter get the gun through customs which he uses to threaten the taxi driver?
• Why are Lee and Carter not hospitalized or at least put on an intensive course of medication after being submerged in raw sewage?
  
• Why are ‘The Triad’ based in Paris?
  
• Why do the villains choose the Eiffel tower as an appropriate place for a hostage transfer - would it not be needlessly expensive?
  
• Why aren’t there security measures in place which prevent criminals hanging people off the Eiffel Tower by ropes?
  
• Why does Roman Polanski, a convicted child molester, have a starring role in the film?

I have a friend who loves the Rush Hour movies, a good friend; they're like, his favourite movies. As such, I once accompanied him to see Rush Hour 2 and 3 at the cinema.

I paid to see two Rush Hour movies; that is why I hate Brett Ratner.

Jabba is a dick

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, right? People say that kind of thing when they want to dismiss someone else's attempt to psychoanalyse something. Fair enough. I suppose the same people might also say that sometimes, a twenty-foot long, green slug-alien is just a twenty-foot long, green slug-alien.

A phallic alien, or 'phalien'.

So, I'm going to apply a psychoanalytic approach to Return of the Jedi. Specifically, a Freudian analysis; which takes in certain things like fear of castration and- well, it's pretty much just about fear of castration. Fear of getting your dick chopped off.

If you think shit like this is ridiculous, fair enough. Stop reading; it's only going to get more pretentious. Still here? Really? Okay, here we go.

When you are young, Freud would argue that you live in fear of bodily dismemberment, specifically: having your penis chopped off. That's a pretty potted version of what he actually thought so, for the sake of argument, just bear with me. To be female is to lack a penis and this 'lack' is scary to the male psyche; the absence is uncomfortably reminiscent of castration. Bottom line; most things you do, you do out of the fear of having your penis chopped off if you don't.

Admit it: you're terrified of this.

Well, whatever, right? Even if you expect me to believe this nonsense, what the fuck does it have to do with Return of the Jedi?! Good question.

Let's say you are a 'Hutt'. If you are a Hutt, you are - most likely - a gangster, a bad guy; someone with a lot of enemies who want to kill you. You are also a large, phallic alien. That's right, you are a penis-shaped alien. A giant, penis-shaped alien. Castration is going to be pretty high on your list of anxieties.

Jabba the Hutt is a dick. He is literally a giant, penis-shaped alien who, quite correctly, assumes that a lot of people want him dead... castrated, if you will. This is emphasised in the opening scenes of the movie, when several of his guests try to kill him.

Now, nearby Jabba's fortress is something called the 'Sarlacc Pit'. This is essentially a giant hole in the ground which eats anyone unfortunate enough to fall into it. It eats them, with its rows of razor-sharp teeth. A hole, with teeth, that kills you. If I was a giant, penis-shaped alien, a hole with razor-sharp teeth that lived nearby would be pretty high on my list of anxieties. It'd probably be number one.

Come on, what does THAT look like to you?

Jabba is also a dick in a figurative sense. Jabba sits in his fortress all day; he's too fat to move under his own locomotive power. We know he has a sex-drive because his only pleasure, apart from eating live frogs, is becoming aroused to the slave-girls who dance and sing for him. To everone else, he is a complete dick. He disintegrates droids, his personal hygiene is non-existent, he belches loudly and he is extremely impolite. He's a paranoid, argumentative, uncooperative dick.

Jabba, when he was still able to leave the house.

But who can blame him? Here is a repugnant penis-alien who has to live in constant fear of being killed/castrated. And, embodying this fear, taunting him constantly, is the Sarlacc Pit. A giant, unashamed 'lack' sitting just over the next sand dune; a giant vagina with teeth. If I was Jabba, I'd be fucking terrified of it.

So here we get to the whole crux of the matter. Jabba behaves like a dick because he literally is one. He lives in mortal fear of castration, something which is in his face every day in the form of the giant, killer vagina living over the next sand dune. But here's the thing... Jabba needs that vagina. Jabba has undeniable feelings towards the Sarlacc Pit; it's a vagina, after all, and he is a penis. He can only achieve sexual release if he 'becomes one' with the vagina.

And so, what does he do about this whole unpleasant situation? Simple: Jabba throws anyone who wants to kill him into the Sarlacc Pit. The giant penis tries to fill in the hole that terrifies and intrigues him so much. He fills the Sarlacc Pit with as many bodies as he can - in fact, he rarely seems happier than when he is throwing other men into the hole.

What an aboslute dick.

But, at the same time, he's so obviously fascinated by the Sarlacc Pit. He floats around the Sarlacc Pit on his sail barge, watching with a mesmerised glee as victims are thrown in. He can't help it - the Sarlacc has a sexual hold on him; he wants the Sarlacc, but at the same time, he's terrified of it. His only option is to try to satisfy his twisted desire by throwing other men into the pit and imagining that he is them. But Jabba's desire can never be fulfilled - the Sarlacc will never be 'full' until he himself is plunged into it.

And so all that is left is a pathetic, morbidly-obese and sexually frustrated alien who takes out his anger on anyone and everyone that wanders into his path. In the end, he is released from his torment by Princess Leia, who strangles him with the chains he used to hold her captive (what a dick!). Perhaps she saw beyond the cruel, boorish gangster that Jabba appeared to be on the surface and glimpsed the tragic, unfulfilled penis within.

Next week's psychoanalysis segment: Why Stormtroopers are such pussies

Micromovies...

Here is the first installment of Micromovies, in which I will attempt to provide a helpful and bitesize critique of popular movies. Hopefully, my take on these films will help you decide whether you want to see them, or not:

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN


I did catch it. Docked one star for overconfidence. Otherwise, good: ***1/2




TROY


Brad Pitt's portrayal of Achilles as mentally disabled was incredibly offensive. Docked one star: *



SCARY MOVIE 3


Mathematically distinct from Scary Movie 2; that's the only compliment I have for this movie: *



THE HAPPENING


A lot HAPPENS in this movie. Except fun and enjoyment: *




THE INCREDIBLE HULK


Looks like Ed Norton has ANGER MANAGEMENT PROBLEMS! And by 'anger management problems' I mean 'not much acting ability': *



88 MINUTES


Instead of calling it '88 Minutes', they should have called it '0 Minutes' and not made it in the first place: *



THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW


I find the idea of Al-Qaeda terrorists building a 'Weather-Ray' insulting to my intelligence: **



HOME ALONE 2

The alternate 'dvd' ending in which Kevin Macallister freezes to death in Central Park, uttering the line 'Time to die...', is masterful: ***




More Micromovies to come...

'Do-over' movies...

Ang Lee's Hulk movie was pretty disappointing. Not speaking as a fan of the comic books, I still had a pretty good idea about what the Hulk was and what he got up to. I expected some serious shit from the film; fights, violence, monsters, laborious studies on oedipal angst- wait. No, not that last bit. No laborious studies of anything. Just the fighting and violence, it's called Hulk, right? I'm within my rights to expect the fighting and violence, that's not too much to ask for, is it?

To be fair to Ang Lee, the bit where the Hulk smashes up that bunch of tanks was pretty awesome. All two minutes of it. But the rest of the movie disappeared so far up its own anus that the film that emerged from the other side was indistinguishable from the pretentious piece of shit that it was.

Hulk (there is no prefix 'The' in the title) was a product of movies like X-Men and Spiderman. This happened when the Marvel comics brand became aware of the equation:

'Beloved comics franchise' x 'Edgy, unexpected director' = 'Increasing box office returns'

It was simple; Bryan Singer (X-Men) was pretty edgy - he came off The Usual Suspects, and Sam Raimi had created The Evil Dead and was as edgy as a hardcore gore movie director could be. See! See what happens when you give directors films that you just wouldn't expect them to direct! See how edgy and succesful they are!

So, to direct Hulk, a movie about Marvel's most superficial and singlemindedly brutal superhero, they pulled out all the stops and got a director who was best known for directing quiet, contemplative family dramas. Makes sense, right?

Needless to say, Hulk was fucking awful and the failure that Marvel deserved for trying to pull a stupid pretentious stunt like that. But the after-effects are still being felt.

It's not Ang Lee's fault, he probably didn't really understand what was going on when he read the script anyway. And why would he? It was retarded. But the movie failed so spectacularly that people lost confidence, for a long time, in making intelligent superhero movies. And if you doubt the consequences of Hulk's failure... they gave Ghost Rider to that moron who directed Daredevil, they gave X-Men 3 to fucking Brett Ratner. Brett Ratner. Who directed Rush Hour. 1, 2 and 3.

Whatever. Why should I care about shitty comic book movies anyway? Well, the reason is, about a year ago Marvel brought out a new Hulk movie. Less than five years after the previous one. This wasn't a remake or a sequel, this was a 'reboot'. Or, in other words, a 'do-over'. It's like taking a practice swing in tennis, seeing the ball land way, way outside the line and quickly yelling for another go before anyone cottons on.

I saw the Hulk do-over movie. It was ok. It was better than the other one because it had more violence and fighting. But I was totally intrigued by the idea of a 'do-over' movie. It's like Marvel were holding their hands up and saying 'Yeah... ok, you got us, Hulk was really, really bad. Sorry we tricked you into spending money on it, and investing in it emotionally. But hey, forget that one -here's another one!'

You literally have to forget that the other movie existed. It's like George Lucas running into a screening of Revenge of the Sith and asking everyone not to watch because he's planning a 'do-over trilogy' to make up for the shittiness of the prequels. It's a dangerous precedent; if your movie isn't successful in any way, it's cool; film a do-over. Sure, you're insulting the loyalty and intelligence of your audience, but what the hell? They'll go see it anyway.

And now Marvel, not happy with the Fantastic Four movies (and why should they be? They were fucking terrible) are considering a do-over movie!

http://digg.com/movies/Fantastic_Four_is_Already_Getting_Remade

And that's not all... turns out Daredevil and Planet of the Apes were just 'practice' movies, too. The do-overs will be coming soon...

Making people ignore the fact that you tried to forcibly make them watch shitty movies that you fucked up through your own creative bankruptcy and then expect them to flock to see a do-over when the first shitty movie fails is fucking patronizing and arrogant in equal, gigantic measures. That is why I hate do-over movies.

I want to go and see Fighting...

Which brings me onto the trailer I saw that made me want to start making this blog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6ttyvbhbsQ

This is a film which is simply called Fighting. That's right, Fighting.

And when I saw it, it just made me... just despair, really. I thought, maybe the title would just be a metaphor, you know, like Happiness, or The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, or Snakes on a Plane.

But it's not. As the trailer makes quite clear, it's about a young man who travels to New York and it turns out he's really good at bare-knuckle fighting, and he makes money off it.

They throw some nonsense in about gambling or whatever and there's a love interest who I daresay isn't happy about all the fighting that's about to happen but the trailer starts, as the film means to go on, with dozens of shots of men's fists connecting with other men's faces with harsh, fleshy 'smacking' sounds.

I know this sounds condescending, I know it. And I would have been willing to put up with this, live and let live, up until the point that they called this movie Fighting. Because that means that, no matter what your social standing, whatever your intellectual capacity and whatever your reasons for going seeing this movie at the theatre, you are going to have to walk up to the box office and say to the woman at the desk:

'I'd like to see Fighting, please.'

And she will oblige. And you will be able to go and see fighting.

By the way, if the studios are going to make movies that so specifically (and helpfully) outline what their intended demographic is in their title from now on, you would be forgiven for demanding that films be made bearing titles like: Running, Farting, Fucking, Shitting, Thinking.

I could go on, but I won't.

If you are the kind of person that literally thinks to themselves 'I'd like to see a movie about fighting, and very little else' then you can go and see this movie. That is why I hate it.

Sometimes films can make you feel guilty and empty.

Once in a while, whatever your creed or colour, you may find yourself unified, with one voice against something you have seen or heard in a movie, or maybe the entire movie itself. This is a perfectly normal reaction; Hollywood consistently and unashamedly make films which it knows - knows - are awful but are pretty much expected to make enough money to render audience reaction, at best, irrelevant and at worst, a mockery of any sense of empirical justice existing in the world.

I am talking, of course, about films like Scary Movie 2. The first Scary Movie, uh, movie inexplicably managed to garner a handful or positive reviews. It came out at a time when the late-nineties slasher movie resurgence had become smug and way too clever for its own good. Maybe people were tired of the self-satisfied, post-modern bullshit which these movies were so quick to dress up in. It was getting old and boring.

The making of Scary Movie was like the moment when, you're sitting in a library and a learning-disabled kid walks in, singing to himself loudly. Everyone watches in a tense silence and when someone does laugh, although it seems wrong, it's such a fucking relief. Everyone chuckles and the child should be quickly and firmly escorted back to his minder, who should be told never to let the child off his leash in the library again.

But Scary Movie 2? The sequel? No.

No, that movie was like seeing the same learning-disabled kid start having a fit on the floor of the library and everyone being too shocked to help or call an ambulance. The kid was briefly amusing, about a minute ago, but now... watching him spasm and jerk around on the floor, his protective helmet clattering off the floor tiles, that's just strange and disturbing.

After you've seen something like that you'll feel guilty and empty; that you just stood there and watched and didn't do anything. And you'll ask yourself: how is the world a better place since I just watched that retarded kid have a fit on the floor? And the answer will be: it isn't.

And Scary Movie 3? Scary Movie 4? (Is there a fifth one? There probably is.)

That's like the rest of the class of the kid who's having a fit on the floor suddenly come running in. And start misbehaving. Some start copying him, jerking around on the floor pretending to fit. Others just start crying or laughing; it's not their fault. It's not their fault; they didn't ask to be retarded and no-one's done anything to help the kid who's actually having the fit. But now that they're here, it is our responsiblity to deal with them.

Scary Movie 2 is like a retarded child having a fit. That is why I hate it.