Edgy MD

God, I hope I'm not too late. Listen, this is an embarrassingly bad movie and a worse baseball movie. I'm sorry to all of you that I even brought it up. Stay away. Watch Clint talk to the chair. Watch the Mets. Just don't watch this. I'll give it two stars, maybe one and half, because I generally reserve lower ratings for things that are Satanic, and this isn't malicious, so much as horribly and hamfistedly rendered. But, well, you might get angry. I did. That scene I wrote up top. That would have improved this film. And i say that as no compliment to myself. On second thought, I'm giving them too much credit. Being that the working title of the movie was probably Fuck You, Moneyball, it kinda was conceived in malice, at least to some degree. One and half stars for you, Trouble with the Curve, and it gives me no pleasure to say so. My scouting judgment is that you look like an A-ball flameout.

Clint Eastwood, appearing in a movie he didn't direct for the first time in two decades, plays an aging baseball scout in sort of an anti-Moneyball movie. I'm sure as a baseball movie, it'll be crazy stupid. And my wife finds Amy Adams to be way too squeaky, but I'm putting all that aside and lining up for this to-NITE. Actually, I'd have loved to have gotten a chance to write this movie: "You can't scout a ballplayer with a computer. What you've got to do is go up to the kid and punch him in his fucking face. Kick him a few times and call him a pussy, and then you... What's everybody looking at?! You want a ballplayer, don'tcha? How do you think I knew how Eddie Murray would turn out? I punched him in his fucking face! Jack Clark, Tom Niedenfuer... all the greats. I punched Brien Taylor in the face and he laid on the ground crying. I knew that kid was for shit, I told the Yankees so, and they went and drafted him anyway. WHAT THE FUCK IS EVERYBODY LOOKIN' AT?!! Jesus!!" Writes itself.

I had thought Ford was to play Leo Durocher. I'm looking forward to it, although them being unable to come up with a better title than 42 kind of makes me leery.

I'm going to guess that it may add up to five hours but was actually originally released in 15 one-reel 20-minute installments.

Chahlton Heston stars as a complete dick of a treasure-hunting desperado in the Edith-head movie that inspired Indiana Jones' wardrobe. Unfortunately, seeing it now, you just think "That smug dick thinks he's Indiana Jones --- how embarrassing." Anyhow, it all comes off as a budget Indy movie as he traipses around Machu Picchu with Robert Young as a gentle archaeologist and Nicole Maurey a glamourous Rumanian exile on the run. Uncle Billy is a competing treasure hunter --- a rather pathetic villain in a heavily stained cardigan -- and Yma Sumac sings Incan songs with a bizzarre super-human range and what sounds like New York night club arrangements behind her. Probably added to the movie a lot of what passed for sophistication at the time, but it brought the derring do to a screeching hault. Worth watching anyhow, interestingly enough, as it's connection as Speilberg source material makes it an archaeological treasure in itself.

I dunno. I just watched it again and liked it a lot. Not a single character didn't feel authentic. Loved how much Cop Dad looked like Randolph Mantooth with some Kent McCord on the side.

To eat like popcorn while he was working!

Yeah, this was already sequeled in 1994 with Charles Grodin replacing Darin McGavin as The Old Man. The earth remained on its axis. There's plenty of Shepherd material out there, of course. I share your suspicion that this will be a sequel in the sense that it comes purely as a cinematic projection forward from the prior movie, rather than a further dip into Shepherd's memoirs. It's a funny thing that studios can do. They buy a property and they take it in their own direction. The Commitments had two sequels, but the producers who owned the characters wanted to do their own sequels. so the subsequent books of the family's continuing story, had to be filmed with new names and re-written characters of the family, while the studio hung on to the rights to the characters hoping to film a second movie about the band, which, of course, never happened. Similar with The Thin Man series I've been watching. Hammet only wrote one Nick and Nora Charles novel, but the studio milked those two freaks for all they were worth, and pounded out five more films. The Thin Man also shares The Pink Panther's penchant for absurd titling in sequels. The "thin man" of the title, like the "Pink Panther" is merely an element in the case in the first film. When the films became franchises, they had to continue to refer to the titles of the first, even though there is no "thin man" and no "pink panther" in the subsequent films. It's the brand, even if it's irrelevant. And in a strange way, Nick Charles becomes "The Thin Man" just as Clouseau becomes "The Pink Panther." I recommend you not see this film. Leastaways because Jean Shepherd isn't around to narrate it.

Edgy DC wrote: And that's particularly sad, wasting all your jizz looking to the future, and not caring as much about the bird in hand. What a clumsy pile of mixed metaphor that was. Anyhow, add John Carter of Mars to the roster of failed serials. I'm watching DVDs of an early franchise smash in William Powell and Myrna Loy's The Thin Man. It becomes boringly formulaic early on, but Powell's just great. The only problem is that he spends so much time in each film not wanting to be dragged out of his cocktail-soaked retirement, that right under his nose a missing person case escalates to murder, or a murder escalates to a triple murder, while he and his wife trade insouciant quips. Some detective he is. Part of the job is getting the perp before the bodies pile up, Nick.

What sucks about romantic comedies is not that they're romantic comedies. It's that they seem to have such limited off-the-rack ideas about what kinds of personalities people have. "Tom's a money-grubbing womanizing douche. 'Cilla cares about people. Tom only cares about... TOM! Can these two find love?"

The Second Spitter wrote: ....always figured it was because Kim Novak was more revered than EMS. Is she? Maybe in the Hitchock pantheon, but in the broader Hollywood pantheon, I'm not so sure. EMS not only anchors this top-shelf Hitchcock classic but also the signature Elia Kazan film. I've heard her name pronounced all American-like as "EvUH-Marie Saynt" but also in a breathlessly French accented "Eve-Marie SAHNT," as it was in Lloyd Cole's "Rattlesnakes," and you can't get more reverent with a Hollywood actress than to pronounce her name all Frenchly. And in NxNW, even as she is torn from her pedestal, as Hitchcock's golden women almost invariably are, she at least retains her dignity. Novak is made lower than mud. And I think it's them uncomfortable issues out in the open that gets it bumped to the top of the critical pile. NxNW made be gooder, but Vertigo greater, as Vic Sage seems to assert.

Yeah, I thought it more or less OK, too. And I ain't charitable with Disneyfare. It makes me sad when I see a film produced as the pilot to a serial, and then realize that, as passable as it was, the failure at the box office promises that the serial is never going to happen. (Though I've little doubt that subsequent installments would deliver less.)

The thing is that he's the same guy as he was in Friday Night Lights, and pretty much the same guy he was in Battleship. This wasn't as bad as all that. It had a fun computerized toad-dog-thing.

Grizzled and grouchy Confederate Civil War veteran doesn't really know why he ended up on Mars, but there he is, and he's not really interested in fighting their wars for them. But he's got this awesome earth skill set and, just like Earth, everybody wants him on their side. How about that. Pixar veteran Andrew Stanton directs the Disney adaptation of the Edgar Rice Burroughs story.

That almost sums it up for me. The plot contrivances were visible far-off. I was perhaps more tolerant but not very much so. I don't know what was particularly good about Emily Blunt. I guess her character started off more interestingly. If you think about the shallowness of the soldier subplot, it really sums up what's become of the broad attitude about soldiers. They're convenient when you need them, with a cool and sexy image, but not really considered as real three-dimensional people, and easily disposable with no regard for the suffering of their offscreen families. Add in a cheap Asperger's Syndrome joke.

Yemeni sheik wants to take his favorite Scottish hobby home, so enlists the help of UK fishery civil servent (Ewan McGregor) and financial project manager or something (Emily Blunt) to introduce salmon to Yemeni waters. Metaphors happen.

Zack wheeler @Wheelerpro45 First meal at home? Zaxbys. Just killed it

Oh, no, I haven't seen it. I imagine you're absolutely correct, but when it comes to sci-fi, we many of us live in denial about different potential quality films out there, until we finally see them and, more often than not, concrete reality comes crashing down. Some films (A Boy and His Dog, Krull, ...) I may never see, because I know they will probably be awful, even as I choose to believe they won't.

I saw this thread pop to the top and thought for the life of me this was going to be about the one-take film he performed in last night.

There have been too many times in my life where, if I was a betting man, I wouldn't have bet on myself. But I just spent 3 of the best/craziest/most exhilarating days of my life pitching for the New York Mets. Which just goes to show you, betting against anyone in this game is the real gamble. All that and more at A Day Older, A Day Wiser.

Vic Sage wrote: THE LAST CHASE (1981) � bad sci fi but on the nose, theme-wise. Your brief review totally disappoints (but hardly surprised) me. I had been on the lookout for this. Lee Majors? Chris Makepeace? Burgess Meredith? Dream cast!

Collin hasn't updated his blog since his good news --- indeed hasn't updated it at all since July 11, but that was a winner. Wednesday, July 11, 2012 Marriage Of The Traveling Suitcases As my wife and I reached our All-Star break destination we sat down with our two suitcases. These two suitcases contained almost the entirety of our "in season" wardrobe. You see we've gotten progressively better at packing/traveling/living abroad as my career has gone on. We've narrowed it down this season to whatever we can fit in the back seat, trunk, and any potential nook and cranny of my compact car. It hasn't always been that way...let's take a journey back in time. Year one: Kingsport, TN Professional college kid. Age 20. Single. Youthful exuberance and youthful hygiene. I brought one bag of regular clothes (clothes that I could wear to and from the field) and one bag of baseball clothes/equipment. I never once unpacked my suitcase, deciding instead to house my insanely diverse selection of white v-neck tees and khaki shorts within a 5 foot perimeter of said (Samsonite) suitcase. Having 3 other recently freed Collegiate roommates, our apartment could best be described as unorganized chaos. Amount of times laundry was done that season: don't ask, don't tell. Year two: Brooklyn, NY I'm a city boy. Proudly and unapologetically. New York was the ultimate metropolitan paradise for me. However, for my clothing, it was unapologetically difficult. New York, as some of you probably know, can be quite sweltering in the middle of the summer. But unlike Atlanta, it get's downright chilly at night in September. My lone suitcase multiplied (thanks to Chinatown's Adidas sector) into a duffle bag hanging off the suitcase running (late) through the JFK terminal. My wardrobe expanded, unfortunately that was just about the time the airlines redacted the right of free checked bags. Amount of knock off Ray Bans I collected that season: 3 How many I still have: ugh...0 Year 3: Savannah, GA This is where it gets complicated. Ashley and I had been married for roughly 6 months and collected roughly 300 sq. ft. (our storage space) of wedding gifts and KitchenAid gadgets. Being new to a full baseball season and so close to home, Ashley and I decided to take both of our cars (and mom's SUV) down there. We packed the vehicles to the brim with an Industrial sewing machine, waffle maker, dishes, mugs (which I lost), etc. The cracks in the master plan began when Ashley left before the season ended, leaving me to pack up the aforementioned compact car. I crammed everything I could into it, including the oddly shaped mop that I stuffed through the back window. Unfortunately, on the first turn I lost the mop to Interstate 16, never to be heard from again. Something had to give. My vote was for the food processor...no, the other food processor...the smaller one. Amount of shirts that I sweat through moving out of the top floor apt: 3...and 2 pair of athletic shorts Year 4: Port St. Lucie, Fl: Atlanta, GA: Binghamton, NY Yikes. Where to start? We did a better job of packing this time around. We narrowed it down to just the back seats (trunks, nooks, crannies, etc.) of our two small cars. Our wardrobe was easily pared down to summer clothes. The FL heat made that an easy decision. We were settled and it felt good. And just like that, baseball yanked the rug out from underneath us. With Ashley back home in Atlanta for some work stuff and me in FL playing ball, the Mets promoted me 1200 miles away to Binghamton, NY. I had about 8 hours to pack up my two bags and catch a flight, leaving little to no time to pack up the rest of our life down there. When Ashley was finally able to join me in NY, she first had to drive back to Port St. Lucie, pack up everything we had from an apartment that we no longer lived in, then haul it up the Eastern seaboard. Not exactly how we planned it before the season started. On top of all that, we added another teammate passenger on the way back home. It was cozy. It was crowded. Amount of times the mantra "We need a bigger car" was repeated: Everyday Year 5: Binghamton, NY: Buffalo, NY: Present We did it. We're down to 2 bags. Granted, we just upgraded Ashley's clothes receptacle from a couple Target bags to a ballin' Samsonite with 4 WHEELS. Movin' on up! We've also absorbed a couple necessities along the way this season. Pillow top mattress cover, Polartec blanket, and a mountain of mail that we've collected from various residences. The good news is, however, that we finally have room to grow. Maybe not enough room to have a baby or a dog right now, but definitely enough margin for the other important things. I believe that's what they call progress. Good to know we're learning something new every year in this whole journey! Amount of years it takes to get it right: We'll let you know when we get there.

That kid is gonna get diarrhea on the mound.

I changed it to allow re-voting. The plot is full of familiar material --- not just from A Star Is Born, but also Singing in the Rain and Sunset Boulevard. Take away the novelty of making a silent film in 2011 --- say this was the second silent film made that year --- and this is pretty forgettable. Worthwhile distraction, but not much more. My wife --- also in agreement that the only Oscar nomination it should have gotten was for Best Dog, and even then, it would have had stiff competition from the similar (same?) terrier from Beginners --- offered the suggestion that Academy loved a movie that celebrated Hollywood and allowed actors to be the heroes.

Silent film movie star gives his kindly benediction to a gamine on the fringes of the film industry. When talkies arrive, his fortunes take a turn for the worse and keep going, while her star rises. Told almost completely silently and in the style of silent films of the era. Academy Award winner of the year it came out, despite no appearances by Prince. Yet no thread.