New York Observer Critic Needs To Be Clotheslined and Buried Alive in Cement

I saw Silver Linings Playbook yesterday and enjoyed it as much as Looper and Argo, my two prior favorite movies of 2012.

Lone critic for the Observer disagrees, calling out the title (based on a book), Bradley Cooper, Robert De Niro, Jennifer Lawrence and the director (David O. Russell, The Fighter, I Heart Huckabees).

I draw the line at the word “overrated” being used anywhere near the vicinity of Jennifer Lawrence, whose Oscar-nominated performance in Winter’s Bone speaks for itself.

Slap-worthy excerpts:

“The ridiculously titled Silver Linings Playbook, not in the same league as The Fighter, doesn’t do for Bradley Cooper what that movie did for Mark Wahlberg.”  Continue reading “New York Observer Critic Needs To Be Clotheslined and Buried Alive in Cement”

Did Lionsgate Use Their Hunger Games Money To Pay Off ‘The Cabin In The Woods’ Critics?

The plot of The Cabin In The Woods isn’t something I can talk much about. I can say that the ending insulted my intelligence, that the acting was bad and the special effects worse. Oh, and it’s not scary. Still want to see it?

I can’t warn you enough that it isn’t worth the price of a movie ticket or even a plastic bouncy ball from the Dollar Tree.

You’ll know from watching the trailer that there are five typical horror characters here – the jock, the whore, the fool, the scholar and the virgin.

This group of college-age people travel up to a cabin, belonging to the cousin of jock Chris Hemsworth aka Thor, that is being heavily monitored by an unseen group, Hunger Games-style. It’s part Evil Dead, part Truman Show, part Thirteen Ghosts.  Continue reading “Did Lionsgate Use Their Hunger Games Money To Pay Off ‘The Cabin In The Woods’ Critics?”

Every Teardrop Is A Moment Listening To Coldplay


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So I’m sitting on my couch writing on my laptop at 2:15 a.m. and watching Fuse’s All Nighter show, which is distant compared to the clicking of keys but still prevalent, and all of a sudden guess what I hear? The devil’s voice! Seeping out of my TV like cheap toothpaste. And he’s not what you’d think, his voice is high-pitched, and by no means as commanding as you’d expect the devil’s voice to be.

Then I tune my ears in to his voice, and I feel him hypnotizing me with some horrendous new form of torture. And what is that new form of torture? The one where blood comes pouring from my ear canal, and there can never be enough tissues or towels or doctors to stop the painful endless surge of tissue that is escaping my hemorrhaging brain…

Continue reading “Every Teardrop Is A Moment Listening To Coldplay”