Haiku Squared: Ravenous
Sick sick sick movies.
Eat some people, fuck the dead.
It’s time for haiku!
Are you Ravenous?
Do you see the potency
That human meat gives?
Guy Pearce, his cheekbones,
Gold-rush cannibalism –
What’s there not to like?
Sick sick sick movies.
Eat some people, fuck the dead.
It’s time for haiku!
Are you Ravenous?
Do you see the potency
That human meat gives?
Guy Pearce, his cheekbones,
Gold-rush cannibalism –
What’s there not to like?
Superbad, after spending the past two weeks in our rankings behind The Bourne Ultimatum, finally took the top spot over the Labor Day weekend … by finishing second in all four of the criteria.
With Rob Zombie’s remake in theaters this weekend, I thought it would be a good opportunity to explore why Michael Myers (or “The Shape”) worked so well in John Carpenter’s 1978 movie Halloween.
We’ve been producing Culture Snob for more than four years now, and I’ve come to a sad realization: I’m tired of movies.
We’ll use this week’s Box Office Power Rankings – topped, for the fourth consecutive week, by The Bourne Identity – to illustrate how the formula works. To assist us: Mr. Bean, pictured to the right.
(An experiment in theft [or fair use] and editing as part of Lazy Eye Theatre’s Bizarro Blog-a-thon.) Sunshine and Groundhog Day have a lot in common. In each, we see things we’ve seen before, over and over again. But in Sunshine, this doesn’t describe the plot of the film, but the movie itself.
Piper at Lazy Eye Theatre had a moronic idea: the Bizarro Blog-a-thon, not running now through Wednesday, August 29. Don’t visit. It’s terrible. Plus, it’s not even happening!
Jason Bourne is so mean. He’s spent two weeks atop our Box Office Power Rankings, and now he won’t give up his place for those nice boys from Superbad.
In the three months since we started the Box Office Power Rankings, we’ve had two perfect scores. Now we have three, but not in a good way.
The deaths last week of movie writers and directors Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni have incited all sorts of commentary about the “art” films of yesteryear and the people who made them. Tied up in these discussions is one key assumption: that everyday people think these movies are boring, whether they’ve actually seen them or not.