I highly suggest you take the time to watch this at some point. Troll 2. It has a Commandoesque level of unintentional comedy.

Point: If Terminator 3 was a superhero it would be called The Dazzler whose superpower would be razzamatazz (and a bunch ton of it)

Since I tend not to respect people that cuss, I’ve decided not to acknowledge Terminator Salvation as an actual entry in the series due to Mr. Bale’s behind the scenes antics as that shit was fucking inappropriate. Even without that qualifier, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines is the best movie in the franchise. Heck, it might be one of the best action movies of all time. The original Terminator was a solid movie that proved that at least at one point Linda Hamilton was a woman with womanly charms. She even owned a dress. But then she started help making pipe bombs and it all kind of went downhill from there. By T2 she was in such raucous dude form she may as well have been wearing black high tops and a pair of Farve endorsed Wranglers while escaping from the Pescadaro State Hospital. That’s actually where they got the T-1000’s name from. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being very much a guy, Sarah Conner in T2 was definitely 1000. Not to mention the sequel delivered two plus hours of a now existing John Connor being a whiny effeminate bitch. At this point the studio knew if they wanted to salvage the brand they would have to get rid of James Cameron since he clearly didn’t know how to make sequels. Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines is awesome for the following reasons:

• No Sarah Connor. By this point she would just be a postoperative named Steve Connor anyway.
• John Connor finally manned up. He has a contemporary guy’s haircut, drinks beer, and then even litters the bottle. It doesn’t get much manlier than that, sans for his mom in T2.
• After an approximately 250 combined minutes of the first two installments completely devoid of a single cast member of My So Called Life, the franchise finally lands its prize in a big, big. I don’t even mean that pretty boy Jordan Catalano who can’t even read (be sure to check out this clip, it’s vintage Terminator), I’m talking Angela Chase herself, Claire Danes, taking on the wonderful role of Kate Brewster.
• The TX, a very non-menacing, petite, lady Terminator was a nice change of pace from the relentless and terrifying T-800 and T-1000. Even though she literally made it her mission to kill Kate and John, you couldn’t help but think she could be easily veered of course with some shopping. This helped to lighten the mood a bit, along with the talk-to-the-hand jokes.

Cody

Counterpoint: The razzamatazz superpower would be super-lame, just like Terminator 3

If I were ever exiled to a deserted island but given the chance to take some DVDs with me to pass the time between conversing with a volleyball and being chased around the forest by a mysterious smoke monster, the original two Terminator movies would definitely be on the list. I can’t avoid watching if I happen to catch them on TV, and I once spent a lazy afternoon in college watching T2 over and over again with my roommates. Sure, we could have picked a different DVD off the shelf after the first viewing, but what could possibly top T2? Needless to say, I was a pretty hardcore Terminator fan in the summer of 2003 and was tentatively excited for the prospect of a new movie. My expectations were low, but I had hoped that Jonathan Mostow could recapture some of James Cameron’s magic and make at least a halfway decent film. Imagine my surprise and disappointment when I discovered that he had turned the Terminator franchise into a comedy.

Well, perhaps not an out an out comedy, but the so-called mood lightening moments that Cody mentioned as positives were complete negatives in my book. T2 had some jokes, but they fit within the story. Calling the T-800 “Uncle Bob” was funny, but worked since the characters were at an underground munitions depot where the gun runners knew the value of not knowing real names. The classic “Hasta la vista” line was also somewhat of a joke, but fits since John Connor was trying to teach Arnold how to be human. T3’s jokes felt completely out of place.   Having an unstoppable killing machine wear Elton John sunglasses and say “Talk to the hand” might be fine in an ill-conceived Wayans Brothers parody, but that was hardly the gritty dystopian atmosphere I expect in my Terminator movies.

T3 abandoned almost everything else that made the first two films great, except for Arnold and Earl Boen. Edward Furlong wasn’t asked to return due to his substance abuse problems. John Connor was pretty much a homeless junkie in T3 anyway, so a coked-up Furlong would have brought some believability to the role. I won’t even get into the movie’s problem inability to do basic math.

Really, the main problem with T3 is its overall tone and feel. James Cameron had injected a cold, metallic vibe into the originals through the use of a blue tinged filter on almost every scene and an ominous and menacing electronic score by Brad Fiedel. Fiedel’s iconic Terminator theme was replaced in T3 by a generic orchestral soundtrack, and the main theme doesn’t show up at all until the end credits. The terminators just don’t seem as menacing without relentless metallic music backing them up. Might as well have them fighting it out to the classic sounds of Mr. Roboto by Styx. That might have actually been enjoyable.

Terminator Salvation was hardly a great movie, but at least it was an attempt to return the franchise to its darker harder-edged glory days. Perhaps hiring a guy named McG to captain the return to seriousness wasn’t the best move, but at least he gave it a shot. Really, they should just wrap up the series once and for all, preferably with a live action version of this.

Sloomie

• Cody: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4cW-_8LzLfc I want you to enjoy that.
• Dave: Are you stereotyping my enjoyment of the northern lights because I'm super-white? Way to be racist, Cody. Way to be racist.
• Cody: Are you super white? Can't say I've thought that.
• Dave: Pretty much as European as they come.
• Cody: Two shay. I honestly thought you were black the first time I met you. After you guys left I called Carly and asked, "Was that guy black?" She said probably not, but she wasn't sure.
• Dave: After I played Rock Band? You are TERRIBLE at stereotyping, sir.
• Cody: I'm not good.

Notting Hill Movie Review: A Decade of Excellence, Part Two

Continue with us as we compare the denizens of Notting Hill with those of that other place filled by idiots so stupid that they use jujitsu as a form of tech support to fight falling ANSI graphics.

William Thacker vs. Neo

William Thacker lives in London’s charming Notting Hill district where he truly lives life to its fullest. He owns his own travel bookshop where he even buys orange juice for his employee. He has a great network of friends and family who he loves very much. Oh, did I mention that he also got the most famous actress on the planet to fall in love with him?

What the heck is so friggin great about Neo? Well, after giving it a respectable amount of thought, my conclusion is not much at all. From best I can tell he really only excels at one thing, that being having a stupid anagram for a name which isn’t even all that creative and even dumber than his girlfriend’s. Congratulations, you moved the o to the front to become the One, amazing wordplay. You’re a regular Will Shortz… or is it Zshort once you get your hands on it? However, what Neo does bring to the table is sucking at a vast array of things. One, he’s constantly late for work because he’s up all night failing to locate Morpheus. Two, he thought Trinity was a guy, but most guys do, so I guess that’s not a giant strike. Three, he’s an enormous pussy who can’t force himself out onto building ledges even when explicitly instructed to do so. Man up and do it. Let me illustrate with a brief list of overall less masculine people that have gone out onto ledges:

• Dana Barrett’s son in Ghostbusters 2 (a baby)

• Unnamed blonde in the Verizon Dare cell phone commercial (a woman)

• John Cusack in 1408 (a man – but a man loved by hipsters)

William Thacker. Point. Set. Match.

Finally, let’s compare them how they rate as couples.

Anna Scott and William Thacker vs. Trinity and Neo

William Thacker and Anna Scott, together as a couple, redefine what true love is. Even with the giant gap between their social status and overall lifestyles, do you know what they did for their first date? They went to William’s little sister’s birthday dinner. One of my favorite things about this scene has always been how William and Anna didn’t even sit next to one another at dinner. What this allowed them to do was really enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company on a level that just did away with all of the gaps between them. William was enamored with Anna from the moment she walked in his bookshop, but after the dinner she knew that she also wanted to be part of William’s world. Suck on that, bullet time.

On the other hand, you have those couples that cut everybody out of their life altogether and rock nothing but we, us, and who are you? Neo and Trinity are that couple. Morpheus went from being a father figure and equal to token black friend so fast it was not funny. When asked about being a friendless, noticeably skinny to gay guys, super p-whipped dude, I imagine Neo might get defensive and go one further and even talk about the diversity in his buddies, “Um….. no. One of my oldest friends in the real world and the captain of my ship just so happens to be black, thank you very much.”

Anna Scott and William Thacker. Point. Set. Match.

In summary, Notting Hill is the best movie ever made. Let me ask you this. If The Matrix is so stunningly amazing and such a piece of landmark filmmaking, then where did this come from? That’s right, not only are the characters full on retards, the entire movie was a shot for shot Bollywood copy job. Finally, I assure you that when back to back sequels Notting Hill 2: Back to the Blue Door and Notting Hill 3: For Love of the Race to the Heart, I Love You get made (possibly by me), they will be completely devoid of both raves and twenty minute long CG fests that somehow manage to bore you to tears (unless it’s a Rachel Getting Married style CG via crying girls).

Final Score: 5/5 Aaron Pierces

Ben Sherman: An Experimental Science Study

Ego fully cast aside, there’s a decent chance I can do the following things better than you:

• Explaining the nuances of fantasy sports to the point where you just want to die after you only asked about it to begin with out of politeness or you thought I meant something else
• Falling asleep while watching various things on television (shows, movies, videogames) at your house… really it’s falling asleep at your place in general
• Wearing Ben Sherman and a lot of it

It’s not news to anybody that I love the fashions of Ben Sherman as documented on Hot Girls. Some people have pointed out that maybe I love the brand too hard. They say that I own an unnecessary amount of their product. I decided the only way to put these claims to rest would be to conduct a complex scientific test. An accuser of mine at work and I partnered up and each day I would walk into his office and he would jot down my shirt situation in his own words.

Cody’s T-Shirt Rotation by Clayton

1. Ben Sherman “Blue Target”

2. Douchey Carnaby Red Ben Sherman

3. Gay ass BLOCK lettering Tigers T

4.  Purple Pussy Ben Sherman Shirt

5. Piece of shit blue/purple (surprise, surprise) Ben Sherman shirt with random fucking dogs on it.

6.  I didn’t think it possible, but yet another Douchey Carnaby Ben Sherman; this one, white, however, not Red.

7.  White Baby Gap rip-off where Cody’s areolas are clearly visible.  Oh, and it’s cold this morning.  Great.

8.  Wow, I’m buying stock in Ben Sherman if at all possible.  Another white Ben Sherman shirt.  It is important to note that I am yet to see a shirt that Cody has worn that is more than 1 inch in sleeve length.  Areolas still clearly visible.

9. Purple Pussy Shirt; yup, the same fucking one.

I would like to thank Clayton for his eagerness to help volunteer in the study. However, it seems clear that I do not own/wear a world-ending amount of our topic of study. One, there was clearly a Detroit Tigers shirt in there. Two, the Purple Pussy repeat is exactly that and it’s not as if I own it harder by wearing it more. Final prognosis: I own a normal, if not altogether low, amount of Ben Sherman.

Notting Hill Movie Review: A Decade of Excellence, Part One

The year was 1999. It was a spring evening and I found myself watching a little film called The Matrix, easily the best movie of the year. As I walked out of the theater with my friend Chris it was hard to know what we were going to talk about first. The great plot? The amazing effects? The lobby shooting spree scene? Chris struck first before I had a chance to change into my Sunday’s best to properly heap on the praise, “Holy shit, how much weight did Keanu Reeves lose? He’s looking so thin!” Even after I heard this I still held steadfast in the belief that naked girls made Chris heavy in the skin thunder. I found out later that I was wrong, straight guys never say anything resembling what he did after viewing The Matrix (or anything for that matter), and that I had shit for working gaydar.

As luck would have it, that faulty gaydar is what would eventually lead me to not saying no to seeing a little charmer called Notting Hill later in the summer with a group of 75% weener owners - and I couldn’t have been more glad I did. Notting Hill instantly became the best movie of 1999, it was kind of hard not to be seeing as how it’s also the best movie ever made in history. William Thacker (Hugh Grant) is a local bookstore owner in England’s Notting Hill who has a chance encounter with Hollywood megastar Anna Scott (Julia Roberts) involving an orange juice spill. Pursuits are engaged, hearts are broken, laughter carries, and love prevails.

I’d like to delve a little deeper into why the characters, the true forces behind any great film, remain the gold standard. To do so, I thought it would be nice to compare the characters of Notting Hill to those of The Matrix.

Anna Scott vs. Trinity

Anna Scott isn’t perfect. There are times when she does her absolute best Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City impression in the bitch moves department. She of course still finds redemption and most of all, Hollywood or not, is still just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her. In the highs and lows, what’s important is that her name remains Anna. It’s a totally lovely “girl next door” name (who just happens to make 15 million dollars a film), not to mention she’s rocking the always crowd pleasing two first name full name (Steve Dave can tell you).

On the other hand, you have a character named the bewilderingly stupid Trinity. Imagine you’re at the bar making bedroom eyes with a brunette across the way. You work up the courage to go and talk to her. “Hi, I’m Cody.” She smiles, “Trinity.” At this point I imagine our first date. I go to pick her up and I’m waiting for her in the living room. She offers me a glass of organic orange juice to which I of course say yes. When she returns, she brings me a carafe of OJ so outrageously organic that it is, in fact, an actual orange. I shift my eyes and slowly place the orange on her kiln in confusion as I turn around and get the fuck out of dodge. She then probably Twitters about it.

Anna Scott. Point. Set. Match.

Come to think of it I’m not done. You know how to date a girl you have to get the approval of all her friends and shit? Trinity is so thick that even when The Oracle straight up tells her she was going to fall in love with the sunglasses-donning, bullet-stopping metaphor of Jesus - she still doesn’t quite know how much she’s into him. To be fair, I don’t think Trinity has a lot of gal pals. I could best gather that maybe she saw The Oracle a handful of times in her life at most (and she was 65… and a piece of software). And who knows how close she was with Switch, the southern accent rocking gym teacher lesbian who loved to dress in white.

To be continued

I’ve posted this picture of Amber Valletta for three reasons. One, she has definitely never typoed once in her entire lifee. Whoops, life I mean. Talk about pure UnValletta. Two, she stars in the film that Sloomie will be discussing. Three, in the event where there’s another month and a half long Hot Girls drought, well, it beats getting disappointed with a jacket. Anywho, I present to you another entry from our very own Sloomie.

Who Are The Ad Wizards Who Came Up With This One?

Hey guys. Sloomie here, picking up the slack for Cody, who has apparently decided not to post any updates until his beloved stolen jacket is returned.

Recent television advertisements for the sure-to-be-classic film Gamer have me thoroughly confused. Over violent clips of explosions, guns and people getting beaten up, an announcer says “the last time Gerard Butler kicked this much ass was 300 years ago.” What? Let’s think about this for a second. They are obviously trying to reference the movie 300, but no matter how I look at it, this statement makes no sense. There are only two ways I can think of that the advertising department could have come up with this slogan.

1. The advertising department thinks 300 took place 300 years ago, in 1709.

This seems hard to believe, as people actually wore shirts by 1709. King Leonidas and crew would have been laughed off the battlefield. Then again, the Spartans in colonial America could have been an interesting movie. If the ad guys did think that the title “300” was in reference to a time period instead of a number of soldiers, they might be excused for thinking the movie occurred in 300 BC. The actual battle of Thermopylae happened in 480 BC, so they wouldn’t be too far off. But, that would still clearly not be “300 years ago,” as the announcer so forcefully asserts.

2. Gamer takes place 300 years from now, in 2309.

IMDB says that the movie takes place “in the near future.” I wouldn’t personally call 300 years from now “the near future,” but let’s go with it for now. If this is the case, the only way the statement makes any sense is if they are considering the movie’s time period to be our present. If we were all in 2309, then 300 would have been released about 300 years ago. So far so good. But comparing Gamer’s fictional timeframe to 300’s real life release date is inconsistent at best. They are asking us to take 2309 as Gerard Butler’s most recent ass-kicking. Fine, but then we’d have to take 480 BC as his last display of ass-kickery. That would be a difference of 2789 years, not 300.

There is a third option I haven’t considered yet. Maybe they aren’t even trying to reference 300. Maybe they are really talking about The Ugly Truth, which does actually take place 300 years prior to Gamer. I haven’t seen The Ugly Truth, but from the trailers I gather that Gerard Butler kicks ass at telling Kathrine Heigl how to attract men. I get it now! The commercial is actually designed to appeal to the ladies and signal that Gamer is a romantic comedy at heart. With guns.

Sloomie

To the person that stole my beloved jacket,

In the apartment adjacent to mine on the top floor lives a handicapped guy perfectly in between South Park’s Jimmy and Timmy in terms of disability. He loves throwing down bread and peanuts to feed the birds from his deck. Actually, we might be in more of a Timmy situation as I’ve noticed that entire slices of bread are getting the heave-ho since I don’t think he can very well tear the bread in pieces. Thief, this guy loves feeding the birds as much as I used to love wearing my Ben Sherman track jacket, which is/was to say, a whole lot.

The problem here is that this has led to a giant bird-shit-all-over-the-cars situation, mine included. I can’t very well unload piles of verbal venom at my neighbor as it’s one of his few pleasures in life and he rules at it, nor do I have the capacity to kill all of the birds. Thief, this brings me to you as we’re in a similar predicament. What am I supposed to do about our situation? I mean, you stole my second favorite jacket from the bar on my birthday. Please allow me to break it down.

This is what I know about you pre jacket theft:

• You probably drink alcohol
• You probably didn’t drink enough as you were still chilly, which would make you a pussy or a girl as it was perfectly warm out at the estimated time you decided you needed my jacket

This is what I know about you post jacket theft:

• You are a huge dick
• You have seriously amazing taste in jackets, kudos

This is what I need you to know about me:

• I have a decently built upper body and I was filling the jacket to near capacity, therefore you can’t be bigger than me
• I tend to plan ahead - so if you are bigger than me and merely planned on holding my jacket over your shoulder - be aware that I can seriously fuck up the shit of both Englishmen and Tom Cruise from the 80s
• I am fully aware of the mild, yet distinct ink stains on the jacket for identification
• I wore three new Ben Sherman shirts in a row this week which caused two different co-workers to ask me how much he was paying me
• I realize that although you might steal from me, you would never tease me about Ben Sherman

Thief, this is my proposal to you. One: You don’t give me back my jacket and I render you unconscious by dropping the shit master’s wheelchair on your head after which I carry your ragdoll body to the Gas Works Park sundial and cover you with slices of bread and peanuts. Two: You give me back my jacket and we become friends with a mutual affinity for Ben Sherman who happen to have a unique how-we-met story. We will discuss fashions at the bar with an intensity similar to the Sex and the City girls as well as Hans Gruber, the original master who could do it all day.

I trust you’ll make the right decision.