Gap-toothed white beard to his young and burdened protege:
"Because time keeps on movin, like a bird, flyin from one place, to another."
Friday, June 19, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Hangover
Here is a movie that lives up to its name. I had a pretty good time, I think, and now I feel kind of sick.
The movie is a vomitous splurge of humor in its many variations, most notably funny and not funny, though the possibility does exist to break the jokes down further into categories like stupid, unsubtle, or artfully constructed. Vomitous and uncontrolled. The opening image left me with hope: a Kill Bill-esque desert landscape with a busted car and some effed up dudes who LOST THE GROOM during a bachelor party. It seemed edgy and sinister enough at the moment, but hindsight says maybe it was just the music. Anyway, after some dicks and asses and making fun of the fat guy who is also stupid, the movie finally gets around to the absurdity in which it thrives: the predictably ruined hotel room, complete with chicken, tiger, and lots of other stuff. The amnesiac detective narrative frame serves the movie well and keeps gags moving, stackin 'em up on top of each other as things start to get a little bit funny and Mike Tyson lays out the stupid fat guy with a wicked right hook. All of the men find the empowerment they really needed by the end of the film, so don't worry, just like we shouldn't worry that every other character in the 'adventure' narrative is a token: "hey guys if we make the black guy a drug dealer, the asian an evil sniveling queer, and the woman a whore who is also a really sweet girl, we're totally spinning this thing! also let's say retard an uncomfortable number of times."
I'm kind of shocked the Philly Inquirer reviewer was waxing lyrical about this film. The "Citizen Kane" of bender movies!??!?! Because it's well shot, in the desert, and has a pretty sweet arc beginning with alienation and ending with exhaustion? Yes, funny. Yes, rolicking. Yes, possessed of the bachelor party milieu. No, nothing distinguishing, besides it may leave you feeling a little bit filthier. Good show, Hangover, for truth in advertising.
The movie is a vomitous splurge of humor in its many variations, most notably funny and not funny, though the possibility does exist to break the jokes down further into categories like stupid, unsubtle, or artfully constructed. Vomitous and uncontrolled. The opening image left me with hope: a Kill Bill-esque desert landscape with a busted car and some effed up dudes who LOST THE GROOM during a bachelor party. It seemed edgy and sinister enough at the moment, but hindsight says maybe it was just the music. Anyway, after some dicks and asses and making fun of the fat guy who is also stupid, the movie finally gets around to the absurdity in which it thrives: the predictably ruined hotel room, complete with chicken, tiger, and lots of other stuff. The amnesiac detective narrative frame serves the movie well and keeps gags moving, stackin 'em up on top of each other as things start to get a little bit funny and Mike Tyson lays out the stupid fat guy with a wicked right hook. All of the men find the empowerment they really needed by the end of the film, so don't worry, just like we shouldn't worry that every other character in the 'adventure' narrative is a token: "hey guys if we make the black guy a drug dealer, the asian an evil sniveling queer, and the woman a whore who is also a really sweet girl, we're totally spinning this thing! also let's say retard an uncomfortable number of times."
I'm kind of shocked the Philly Inquirer reviewer was waxing lyrical about this film. The "Citizen Kane" of bender movies!??!?! Because it's well shot, in the desert, and has a pretty sweet arc beginning with alienation and ending with exhaustion? Yes, funny. Yes, rolicking. Yes, possessed of the bachelor party milieu. No, nothing distinguishing, besides it may leave you feeling a little bit filthier. Good show, Hangover, for truth in advertising.
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