Fact: Will Smith wrote “Just the Two of Us” because he prophesied Jesse Eisenberg would star in The Double.
As a child, I used to spend hours trying to imagine what my identical twin was doing on the opposite side of the world. To the best of my knowledge, I didn’t (and I don’t) have an identical twin, but that little bit of information had no place in the world of a child’s imagination. I simply reasoned that on a planet of six billion or so people there had to be someone who looked and acted exactly like me.
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“I may have a lot of problems, but at least I can grow a magnificent beard.”
Seeing as I live in the terrible abscess of culture and art that is Central New Jersey, I don’t often get the chance to do simple things like go to museums, take DJ classes, or go to the movies. (There are plenty of opportunities for having deep metaphysical conversations with trees, so if you’re into that you should come hang out with me in my woods.) The closest movie theaters are about 45 minutes away if you drive the speed limit or an hour away if you spent a considerable amount of time living abroad and are now afraid of automobiles. (Everything just moves so fast now!)
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Even though I have seen countless films and have traveled through some of the darkest and most disturbing nether regions of the internet, there still remain moments when I am shocked out of my desensitized shell and genuinely and profoundly and utterly repulsed. Those also happen to be some of my very favorite moments. There’s certainly a devilish perversion in witnessing something so sick and twisted that it practically knocks you right off your seat (or at least there is for me anyway).
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Hey, I’m all for ponderous, overwrought films that slowly sink under the weight of their own monotony as much as the next perpetually hungover, country raised, hipster film addict, but there does come a point – perhaps sometime between the third and fourth checking of the film’s progress – that you think to yourself, “Self. This is an incredibly boring movie. Why do I continue to torture myself?”
And, of course, you may start a tennis match conversation with your own consciousness –
“Turn it off.”
“Hey there’s only… only 45 minutes left… Let’s just finish it.”
“Turn it off! It’s so boring. Uhh.”
“There’s not much left, and it got really good reviews.”
“Oh God, I want to die. I just… I just want to die. Like right… right now.”
It’s a laborious thing to argue with oneself, and doubly so when half of the mental arguers seem to be suicidal; it is not an endeavor that should be undertaken lightly.
More at – movies.mxdwn.com
Girls, we hardly knew ya. You had a beautiful two season run. A beautiful collection of awkward stories and mid-20s confusion and apathy and interest in all the right places.
And, sadly, at this time we ring the bell – the death knell that is. Girls, season three, has officially “jumped the shark.” Feel free to cry or whine or beg or steal. Feel free to gloss over the weaknesses of this season. Feel free to deny and curse and shout and stand up bellowing, “No! Girls is still a great show! Season three was the best yet! I can’t wait for next season.”
Yes, I know I know I know. Normally I would not be caught dead watching a fucking movie like Limitless. I reserve my “bad movies” to things that have Arnie or Sly or are reaaallly stupid, but I was researching films for my drug article. So, I needed to watch Limitless. And actually it’s not all that bad.
I am surprised. It entertained me. It surpassed expectations. It really was a breath of fresh air. It truly allowed me to experience a different experience. Sometimes, I’ll cry when I look back and realize I won’t be able to see this film for the first time again. One day I’ll kill myself and my last thought will be of Limitless. Before I go I’ll hack into the mainframe and send a copy of Limitless to the owner of every computer in the world. Because it has to be done. Earth must see Limitless.
9.5/10 – Grilled Seal of Approval
The culmination of the McConaissance and the reason he will soon be walking home with a shiny new golden man for his mantel. Well, it’s probably unlikely that he will be walking home, I have to imagine he owns a car or has the money to purchase a ride in a taxi or has the willingness to slum it in a bus or has the number of a man who will pick him up and carry him wherever he wants to go.
Hey, alright alright alright – I admit it. I am human and I have needs and sometimes those needs entail watching a goofy fucking movie with a juiced up, plastique Sly Stallone and a similarly veiny Arnold. Every once in a while it feels good to watch something completely formulaic; you get the groan inducing one liners, the ludicrous plot lines and characters, and the insane coincidences that only happen in films and in these kinds of films in particular. Shitty films, but, hey, it gives your life a little perspective, right?
9/10 – Grilled Seal of Approval
So! Three days down at my new internship and we’ve reached the weekend. (Remember I’m writing these from the future – *Twilight Zone Music* Do Do Do Do Dooo.)
I have a 1.5 hour bus ride in the morning and a 1.5 hour bus ride in the evening, and in both of those times I get the lovely chance to witness my fellow New York Bound/ New Jersey Returning worker bees trying to get a few moments of rest or skipping ahead on their workload or catching up on their workload or looking at porn on their computers or something else entirely.
9/10 – Grilled Seal of Approval
So, I realized what is wrong with America today. I know, I know, that sounds like a terribly arrogant foolish stupid thing to say, and I don’t disagree with you about that.
But I stand by what I said anyway! Today I was reminded of the terrible, terrible people who inhabit this grand land of sweeping plains, vast meadows, cavernous caverns, mountainous mountains, and valley-ous valleys. Ohhhh sayy can youuu seeeeeeee byy theeee dawwwwwnnssss earrrrrlyyyyyyyy liggghhhhhhhhhhhhht.