HE’S BACK! Making his way through #1 movies in America, so you don’t have to.
Just when I thought I was out…they pull me back in.
No really, thank you.
This is a big fucking thank you to everyone pestering me unendlessly over the last couple of months. I can’t go out to the Black Cat and enjoy 15-20 beers in peace without everyone coming up to me and saying the following thing:
“Hey – haven’t seen you in awhile! Why don’t you write movie reviews anymore?”
Not – “Hey – I haven’t seen you in awhile, I really missed the undeniable pleasure of your company!”
No – “Hey – haven’t seen you in awhile, let me give you these unused Hooters gift cards!”
No – “Hey – haven’t seen you in awhile, how about a quick reach around in the men’s room stall, just for old time’s sake?”
None of that. No one asks what I’ve been up to. But, fear not, dear reader, I’m going to tell you anyways.
Here’s what I’ve been doing the past couple of months:
1. Writing a lot of FanFic involving the Jonas Brothers showing up in the Twilight series.
2. Eagerly anticipating the new season of According to Jim*.
3. Throwing a giant A2J Season 8 premiere party.
4. Cleaning up after A2J party**.
5. Crying in the dark while listening to the Katy Perry album, One of the Boys.
That’s about it.
Needless to say, I’ve been pretty bored.
*Who says write-in campaigns never work? See also: Freaks & Geeks, My So-Called Life, Cavemen.
**I don’t know if you know how hard it is to get rid of the smell of cigars and awkward silence out of a sofa, but let me assure you, you need more than Febreze, my friends.
So out of my relentless boredom and unending desire to entertain and inform all you botardos about the crap-ass movies America chooses to make number one in the box office every week, I have decided to resume my duties.
And the first fucking movie I have to go fucking see is about a FUCKING DOG DYING.
Now, I admit it. I’m a sucker for animals, specifically dogs. I can’t get enough of them. It’s like grandmas with babies or tweens with Robert Pattinson. After I saw Sounder and Old Yeller, I made a solemn vow to never see heartwarming films about dogs because the dog inevitably gets itself good and dead at the end. So as I sat down in the nearly empty theater, I thought to myself:
“This fucking dog is going to be really loveable and cute and then it’s going to goddam die, isn’t it?”
And it was, and it did, and I bawled my stupid eyes out like a weepy washer-woman.
Marley & Me is based on a book, which, in turn, is based on a series of columns written by the poor man’s version of Dave Barry, John Grogan. He’s one of those pithy, Andy Rooney-ish assholes who writes about the humorous details of everyday life like your zipper breaking on the metro, or the problem with Ziploc bags not keeping your Bugles fresh. The kind of gut-busting humor designed for people who love that old bitch on the Hallmark shoebox greetings cards and who think that your dog jumping in the bathtub while you’re trying to wash your baby is the height of hilarity.
And that’s what you get out of Marley & Me. Marley jumps in the shower. Marley knocks over the dog trainer(played by an increasingly bloated Kathleen Turner. Didn’t she used to be hot?). Marley chews up the sofa. Marley looks cute when he chases after pigeons. John Grogan(Owen Wilson) keeps saying that Marley is the Worst Dog in the World, but I don’t see him eating babies faces off or plotting to blow up a federal building or anything like that. Cujo he ain’t.
The rest of the movie is pretty awesome. If you think watching Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston living out every normal middle class family’s daily life is awesome. Sometimes movies strive to tell amazing, fantastical stories about different planets or what people do in rare situations. Other movies have JenOwen arguing about a mortgage and discussing whether they should have another baby. Wow. I’m fucking GOB-SMACKED.
This, however, is not to say I didn’t like the movie. But, as I said before, I’m a total gay for dogs. If you don’t really, really, REALLY love dogs you aren’t going to like this movie at all. You’ll just wonder why they don’t bring Marley to the pound the minute it chews a whole in the wall. Or bring it deep into the woods and shoot it with a shotgun. Or barbecue Marley it and eat him for dinner, if you are of that persuasion***.
It’s too bad Marley has to die in the end. I was hoping for a sequel where he has to teach the rag-tag inner city Michael Vick dogs how to play Ultimate Dog Frisbee and therefore learn a valuable life lesson. It could be called Dog Training Day. I envision a fucking huge opening weekend.
My Reaction: Good(3 out of 5), or if you don’t LOVE dogs; awful(1 out of 5)
Next week: Who knows if I can keep this up, really? If so, Bride Wars? Christ help me, why did I start this up again? Til then, I’ll be begging for table scraps. Stay incorrigible, kids.
*** mmmm…barbecued Marley.