Barbie

I have made it publicly known that I am on a mission to find my Barbie bride before the year’s end. So, this week I have a date set up with a Barbie clone from Louisiana. I’m already calling her Cajun Barbie and it’s my hope that she shows up wearing six-inch gator heels and only drinks Hurricanes with Boudin in them. “Mama says foosball is the devil!”

Can you imagine what our kids would look like? I picture a lighter skinned version of Lil Wayne who only wears pink. But that would of course totally change your perception of what his song Lollipop is about. And every time he said, “Stuntin’ like my daddy”, you may raise an eyebrow or two. Or would he even have to wear pink in the first place? I was really hoping that the theaters would have their own Mean Girls version of Barbies standing guard at the doors as you entered. And that they would haze you for not wearing pink whenever you tried to approach them! “On Mondays we wear pink!” They should have at the very least incorporated that into the film as I can’t be the only one who thought of this idea. Oh well, opportunity missed.

But I myself was considering wearing pink only because I was going to a sold-out theater to see this movie solo. And seeing as how I am 76 years old, that could come off as a little creepy when sitting in between teenage girls whose only experience with someone my age is by the way of their grandfather or their out of touch Texas History teacher. My thought was, if I wear pink, maybe I’ll come off as a bi-curious cinephile and would therefore be considered perfectly safe. But as it turned out, I wound up wearing orange just to throw everyone off.

Here's the thing; I couldn’t believe that there was an actual scenario in place that would lead to me seeing this film in the theater. When they announced they were making this film, I immediately laughed out loud and said there was no way in hell I’d ever see it. It sounded like the dumbest idea ever. But then I saw that Greta Gerwig was attached to it and that they were somehow able to cast Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling as Barbie and Ken. So, that at least made me think that it was going to be more than just a money grab. But even then, there was a small chance of me ever forking over any cash to see it.

But then I remembered that they did make live-action versions of Transformers, G.I. Joe, and He-Man, and those movies made ridiculous amounts of money because nerds from all over came out to support them; so why not let the ladies get their time? But wasn’t Barbie something of the past? I thought she portrayed an obsolete view of women and that people now considered pink to be a gender construct (both of which are addressed in this film). But then I noticed that every woman who has ever been born showed up opening weekend wearing pink to see this film, so clearly those thoughts are bullshit!

Give women a reason to dress up and band together and all the rules go out the window. Just look at Halloween every year. I’m fairly certain I saw Kamala Harris dress up as naughty T’Challa her first year as Vice President. And you know what? Good for her and good for women! Go see a movie about something that was a major part of your childhood and grab some drinks afterwards to celebrate! Hell, maybe you’ll even meet and hook up with a lonely writer who’s not afraid to wear orange. Everybody wins!

And speaking of winning, women, Hollywood, and everyone involved with this movie certainly won! Gerwig and her partner Noah Baumbach wrote a clever story that not only empowered women but also managed to piss off every right-wing freak that hates the song WAP. And that my friends is a clear win. In this film, Barbie seemingly has the perfect life as every day she wears the perfect outfit, eats the perfect breakfast, and has the best parties with her Barbie friends. And every day, the Kens all show up to try and grab their attention by surfing, dancing, and showing off their six packs.

But one day, Barbie’s world is turned upside down as the real world starts to have its effect on the Barbie world. So, she is forced to track down her owner to try and resolve things. However, it’s when she and Ken enter the real world that things totally go haywire. The rest I’ll leave up to you to experience on your own but the key things to know going in are that every male in this film is a complete idiot. Which, to quite a few males can be upsetting, but to me it provided 90% of the laughs in this story. I don’t mean to lead off by talking about a male character in a movie about women but Ryan Gosling was hilarious in almost every scene he was in. His discovery of the patriarchy (although I thought he should have called it the patri-horsey, it makes sense when you see the film) had me laughing a little too hard. And his turning into a frat-boy was a little too spot on. But it was good to see him and his comedy talents be put to good use. Same with Michael Cera.

But obviously the star of the film was Margot Robbie. Her long journey to her self-discovery had every girl within three miles of me crying in the theater. It was painful to watch her go from her perfect world to the disgusting world we live in and to see her fall apart as a result of it. The entire time you just hoped that she could go back to her perfect life and not have to endure the pain, insecurities, and uncertainty that we have to deal with on a daily basis. But, enduring all of this is what ultimately led to her growth and the outcome that was destined for her and presumably women everywhere. Sure, the world is tough at times but you have everything inside you to…blah blah blah, this is not that kind of blog! But the point is, there’s an actual point to this story.

There is a monologue in the third act that is fairly long and a little too preachy but if you know anything about Greta Gerwig, you know that she’s not one for subtlety. Nor should she be. If she wants to hammer a point home, she certainly can. I’m just not sure that scene will reach more than her core audience. But the scene that follows where they get every dude to man-splain everything to the Barbies to help save the day more than made up for it as that was unbelievably hilarious.

And that’s what I’m ultimately trying to convey here; this movie was way better than it should have been, I mean, it’s a movie about a doll. Having said that, if you’re a woman, you will think that this movie deserves a rating of tight because it is everything you hoped it would be and more. But if you’re a guy, you’ll just be happy that you didn’t want to kill yourself afterwards and will want to give it a rating of sort of fresh.

I’m somewhere in the middle and I give it a rating of pretty FRESH. Enjoy wearing your pink ladies because we still have 98 days until Halloween.

Oppenheimer

“Now I am become death, destroyer of worlds.” This is what Oppenheimer quoted after he helped create the world’s first atomic bomb. And I don’t believe that there is a more famous quote attached to a person than this one. Well, maybe “The sweat drop down my balls! All these bitches crawl! Awww skeet skeet…” and Lil Jon but it’s hard to mess with greatness.

And even though Oppenheimer was born in the U.S. and was an American citizen, I cannot think of a more German name than his. But it’s no secret that there was a race amongst the nations to recruit or steal the best Nazi scientists to have them on your side once the war was over. They were given new identities and were allowed to safely live in their new societies as long as they contributed to the greater good of their new homes.

And this got me to thinking. Let’s say someone like the Japanese defeated the mighty United States one day and there was a race for our best human resources; where would I land in this group? All I’m sort of good at is coming up with great Halloween costumes. Everyone remembers the three years in a row I went dressed as R. Kelly, complete with a handheld camcorder that said “I want to pee on you”. And then there was last year when I went dressed as Marsellus Wallace from Pulp Fiction. I was inspired by the ”bring out the gimp scene” and therefore walked around with a bloody ball gag in my mouth and a shotgun (well, a toy baseball bat; I didn’t want to give the cops yet another reason to shoot me).

Quick side note: I was hit on by women waaaay more when I was R. Kelly than I was as Marsellus but I was also at a goth show when I was Pulp Fiction, so most of them were probably used to BDSM anyway.

But the point remains; how would I be considered as useful to a nation? You guys remember that high pitched male voiceover from the 1940’s that was used in black and white commercial campaigns to promote tin drives and to encourage women to enter the workforce while the men were off at war? Perhaps the Japanese could use that same voice to promote my skills and give ME a new identity.

“Good evening gentlemen (a woman would never be dumb enough to be a Kamikaze pilot)! Feeling down or nervous about your upcoming mission? Well fear no more! We have the solution for you! We now have the latest in costumes to fulfill your heart’s desires! Pee on your favorite colleagues in complete anonymity using P. Kelly’s sleek eye mask and fake cornrows. Rewatch your escapades over and over again on your handheld camcorder as you go into battle! But make sure you drink plenty of fluids! We don’t want you getting dehydrated in the cockpit after living out your lifelong fantasy!  

Want to consummate that friendship you made in basic training? Live out your wildest dreams using Dr. Sodomheimer’s leather arm straps and ball gags! You’ll have hours of fun while you engage in purely consensual military bonding before serving your wonderful country!” (to all you sensitive readers out there: I ran this joke by my gay, bi, and straight friends and they all thought it was hilarious. So, chill out and grab yourself some anal beads for a trial run before you get all bent out of shape).

Anyway, I’m far from being an Oppenheimer but I certainly think I can be of use. And this is exactly what Matt Damon thought when he recruited Oppenheimer for this all-important mission. Oppenheimer wasn’t the first choice because of his political leanings and his borderline egotism but as it turned it out, he was the effective choice. But sadly, Oppenheimer’s Communist affiliations, his general openness to alternatives to Capitalism, and his outspokenness on the Pandora’s Box that was opened after the atomic bomb was both created and used was ultimately his undoing.

I’m not sure how much you know about this film before going into it but this is what Christopher Nolan chose to put his focus on. Yes, there is certainly a lot of attention put onto what went into the creating of the bomb but the vast majority of the film focuses on the pettiness and the general jealousy that led to Oppenheimer’s life being ripped apart by subcommittees and people whom he thought were his friends; mainly Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.).

There was a race against the Nazis, and even our then ally in Russia, to come up with an effective bomb after scientists had recently discovered a way to split the atom. A bomb of this magnitude in the hands of someone like Hitler, or even Stalin, could have dire consequences for the rest of the world. So, the U.S. put all its resources into gathering the world’s best scientists, those of whom they thought they could trust in the midst of a World War, to be the first to develop and use this weapon. They thought that using this weapon would bring an immediate end to the war and would allow our soldiers to come home safely without having to enter any more battles. But it was clear that there was very little thought put into what the aftereffects would be and what this could mean for the world moving forward.

Now, if Nolan had put more of his focus on the tension around this race, I think that this film would have been highly entertaining. However, again, he chose to focus on how Oppenheimer’s own country turned against him after he became a spokesperson for weapons regulations. And if you know anything about America, we love our guns and our bombs, so he was doomed from the start.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Nolan does an excellent job of making political backstabbing as interesting as he can but this is not what people expect in a summer blockbuster. We want to see shit get blown up! And that is by far the most exciting part of the film; the recruitment of the scientists and the actual testing of the bomb are the parts of the story you came to see. That is a Christopher Nolan film; tense moments that leave you gasping in anticipation of what’s to come. But he decided to go another route.

And while he was still successful in making a quality film, the story is ultimately about a bunch of nerds talking about scientific theory. Both of my parents were scientists, and while they were both funny and intriguing, they were clearly the outliers. He tried to make them interesting by showing how much of a womanizer Oppenheimer was and by giving us some insight into their free thinking and passion for their work; but in the end, they were just dudes with pocket protectors trying to outsmart one another.

Most of the subcommittee interrogations and really all of the communist rallies could have been cut from this film, saving us 70-80 minutes of rather boring dialogue. Had he simply focused Oppenheimer’s early education, his assembling of his Manhattan Project team, the testing of the bomb, and the aftermath that followed, this would have been a perfect film. The acting in it is flawless. Matt Damon steals every scene he’s in, Cillian Murphy, Downey Jr. and Emily Blunt deserve Oscar nominations, and even though she was grossly underutilized, Florence Pugh brings unforgettable sexiness to a film that sorely needed it. Yes, she does get naked for all you pervs out there (me raising hand).

But in the end, this movie falls well short of expectations. The more I think about it, the more I actually think I like this film, so I’ll give it a rating of FRESH but I wouldn’t be mad at you for waiting until it’s available on HBO Max. It is three hours long.

I could complain about the fact they don’t show anything that happened in Japan but this review is getting way too long just like the film.

Asteroid City

We are quickly approaching the anniversary of me nearly finding my long-lost British wife! It was my first night in Vancouver B.C. and this random couple, whom I just met for two minutes mind you, said to me, “Yo! We have the perfect girl for you!” I’m sorry, what? You’ve known me for two minutes and already you’re trying to set me up with someone? Is she Eastern European and chained in a basement somewhere? Is this some Eyes Wide Shut nonsense that you’re going to use to blackmail me so I’m forever indebted to some Canadian Mountie? I’m a Black man in America, I can never be a spy for Canada. People suspect me of nefarious activities constantly! There’s no way this will work!

But to my surprise, this woman with the most incredible lips I’ve ever seen in my life walks around the corner. And once she flipped her high-end Pantene induced flowing hair (or whatever women use) and spoke in that amazing British accent of hers, I was done for! But, as I tend to do, I of course told her some lame joke and she was immediately turned off. I spent the rest of the night convincing her that I wasn’t a moron. And, thankfully for me, the house band playing that night played a Childish Gambino cover. This led to us getting on the dance floor and that’s when she was finally convinced.

I then was somehow able to convince her to come back to my hotel with me but, on the walk there, we ran across these two skateboarding miscreants. I knew they were trouble upon first glance and I should’ve immediately stopped and gotten us an Uber, but by the time I decided on this strategy they noticed us and asked us if we wanted to smoke some weed with them. She got all excited as apparently she hadn’t smoked weed in years. So, she runs over to take a few puffs. I tried to slip these little devils a few Canadian coins to go away but it was too late, the damage had already been done.

The weed was too strong for her and I could immediately tell something was off. She told me that the weed hit differently than she thought it would and that she had to go home right away. And before I could even open my mouth, she pecked me on my cheek, hopped in an Uber, and was gone forever! I turned to look at the Avril Lavigne wannabes and all they could do was shrug their shoulders and say, “Sorry, eh!”

If I weren’t already indebted to the local Mountie I would’ve knocked them both out right then and there but alas, I was left to walk to my hotel alone. And as I took that frustratingly long walk back to solitude, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Was I past my prime? Am I too old for the game? What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe it’s time for me to get out!”

And I truly believe that these are the very questions Wes Anderson should be asking himself today. Have you seen his last few films? He’s had a total of 3 good ones in the past 20 years. Seriously, look it up; 3 total films that you’d actually watch again. And don’t get me wrong, I used to love his work. Hell, I dressed up as Pele Dos Santos (Seu Jorge) from The Life Aquatic for Halloween and have been to many Wes Anderson themed parties over the years. But man, I nearly fell asleep during The French Dispatch, and the poor couple next to me were full on snoring during it. And Isle of Dogs was entertaining for about 20 minutes, but after a while, old white men talking in proper English can only work for so long; I eventually need a story I actually care about.

It's like he’s become the white version of Tyler Perry. He just chooses, as of late anyway, the worst of white people and decides to tell their boring ass stories. And yes, I know that racist, closed-minded whites are the worst of white people but at least they drink cheap beer and write songs that can be played in strip clubs. The people he’s writing about have literally nothing of interest going on in their lives. And I know that I usually cannot relate to white people in the first place but even the white people I know cant relate to these characters.

And sadly, that trend continued in Asteroid City. This story, if you can call it that, takes place in some random small town in the desert that resembles Roswell, New Mexico. Its only claim to fame is the fact that an asteroid from outer space landed there years ago. And each year they invite 5 young aspiring scientists or inventors to showcase their latest inventions in hopes of winning the grand prize and some low-level recognition. People come from all over to participate and it’s an annual celebration of the rock that landed from outer space.

And during this celebration, you meet Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman) who is driving his son and three daughters to Asteroid City so that his nerdy and awkward son can participate in the competition. His car breaks down on arrival and while they way for it to be fixed, you learn that Augie’s wife recently died after a long battle with some serious illness. And as he’s trying to juggle everything that’s happening in his life, he meets a world-famous actress in Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson) who has been married three or four times herself and also shares in his struggle with dealing major life changes. She’s in Asteroid City preparing for her next role as her daughter is also a part of this weird celebration.

But trust me when I say that how I described it sounds way sweeter than it actually is. Neither of them seems to be too broken up about their past spouses and Augie has even thought about leaving his children behind. And while you process everything I just said, you’re also introduced to a host of other irrelevant characters who do or say nothing remotely interesting themselves. There’s a random group of church kids on a field trip, there’s a cowboy country and western band who also happen to be nearby, and there are the people who are in charge of the festival; whose lives seemingly revolve around it and nothing else.

But here’s the kicker, none of this is really happening because what you are witnessing is an adaption of a play written by Conrad Earp (Ed Norton). But you’re not watching the play itself, just some dude (Bryan Cranston) talking about the play as if it’s a real-life event. If none of that makes sense, it’s because it doesn’t. What matters is, what you’re seeing isn’t even a real story. So, Wes Anderson goes out of his way to tell you that what you’re watching means nothing, has no connection to reality, and has no hidden moral message of any kind in it. You’re just wasting $15 of 90+ minutes of your time to look at beautiful an talented people waste their beauty and talent on complete nonsense.

But hey, if you like to see pretty colors and beautiful cinematography, by all means, smoke some of that strong Canadian weed, eat some mushrooms, and go have a ball watching this complete waste of $25 million.

I give this movie a rating of WACK!

Mission Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One

Tom Cruise is 61 years old and he’s still doing all of his own stunts! I’ll say that again, Tom Cruise is 61 and he’s doing more than just accidentally butt dialing his smartphone and thinking that Twitter is an old Looney Tunes show. Hell, I’m nowhere near his age and I’ve already reverted back to calling laptops, “labtops”. So, what the hell am I doing with my life?

I’ll tell you what I’m doing! I’m finally starting my mid-life crisis! Yes, I’ve already dated a girl who was nearly half my age but that’s child’s play! Look at Al Pacino and Bob De Niro, I’m not really doing ish until I impregnate someone 50 years younger than me. So, I’ve got some work to do there. But in the meantime, I rented a Dodge Charger in LA just so I could drive 100 mph in the slow lane and yell at all the Black people who were crying and slowly driving out of Inglewood after being forced to move so a Black Swan Yoga could take over their homes!

But where I really found my next calling in life was rolling through Rodeo Drive blaring Rodeo Drive by Rage Against the Machine. There I saw my future self. I saw this rich fat, old dude being dragged from store to store by his much younger and hotter wife who looked like and was dressed like a Barbie clone. Barbie does Rodeo! And their two children also looked like and were dressed like Barbie and Ken! The little girl’s outfit matched her mom’s and the little boy had a pink blazer with white knit pants! It was incredible! This old, fat dude had hit the jackpot!

Hell, I’m already halfway there with the fatness, all I need now is the money! But the difference with me is, I will teach my kids reverse cultural appropriation. Since they will be half black and half white, I’ll make sure their hair is extra curly so they look like Jack Harlow. But as opposed to doing it so they can get rich off of looking white (although that would be a nice side benefit) they’ll do it so the cops wont shoot them for driving around in a Barbie mobile. I can’t be the angry, crying Black man on CNN. But by the time I accomplish all of this, I think the 70’s will be back in style, so I’ll have to teach them how to say things like “Jive turkey” and “Solid as a rock”. I’ll call them Wigga Ken and Wigga Barbie. I’m sure I’ll be loved in all the PTA meetings.

So, what’s the point of all this? I’m coming for you Cruise! You’ll be jealous of me when I turn 61! But in the meantime, I am willing to concede defeat to you. I just saw his latest film and I have to say that this freak of nature continues to amaze me! I own way too many Tom Cruise films: Collateral, Jerry Maguire, Edge of Tomorrow, Oblivion, Mission Impossible I…and those are just the ones I’m not ashamed to list here. Xenu continues to work wonders with this dude and MI 7 is no different.

Ethan Hunt (Cruise) is called on to work yet another impossible mission to retrieve both parts of a key that could hold “the key” to bringing a stop to a rogue AI program that can infiltrate every computer system in the world. It has left its digital footprint everywhere and no one knows what its endgame is but it has already destroyed a supposedly untraceable Soviet submarine in the artic somewhere. And whoever gets their hands on this key, could not only possibly destroy this AI but worse, control it. This, of course, could lead to all sorts of deadly consequences.

Now, here’s where my only issue with the movie comes in. Had they simply explained it in that manner and just gave you a ton of action scenes around it, everything would have been fine! But boy, do they over dramatize this plot. There’s all sorts of slow motion gazes with raised eyebrows and dramatic music as someone slowly stands up to display one half of the key. We get it, AI is scary, but trust me, waking up your girlfriend, who is NOT a morning person, for morning sex is way scarier! Try getting elbowed in the penis twenty times at 8 in the morning and then come talk to me about a key!

Anyway, once they get past this and you get over the fact that one of the main bad guys, who appears to be working on the side of the rogue AI, is simply an older and slower version of the Dos Equis man, the movie is actually on point. I just wish they had chosen to play Juvenile’s Slow Motion for Me every time this dude was in an action scene.

And speaking of action scenes, they are the main reason why you need to see this film in the theater. Watching these elaborate and intense car chasing scenes on a 50 foot screen is something you wont forget anytime soon. The train scene is one that will go down as an instant classic as parts of it remind you of what Christopher Nolan pulled off in Inception, and of course seeing Cruise leap off of a mountain in what is basically a scooter is breathtaking.

As hokey as the plot sounds, it actually is a fairly decent storyline, it’s just that they do kind of ham it up a bit. But outside of that, this film was definitely worth the price of admission and I found myself actually disappointed that the film was over when the final credits started rolling. I wasn’t disappointed because of the lack of quality, I was disappointed because I was ready for more.

So, this movie is certainly no jive turkey on Thanksgiving, I give it a rating of VERY FRESH!

Ghostbuster: Afterlife

Please take it easy on me as I’m a little rusty at this movie reviewing stuff. I just figured that it was probably better for my relationship that I stop writing for a bit so that my girlfriend wouldn’t accidently  happen upon one of my past articles, become completely horrified by some of the tales of my bachelorhood, and instantly decide to leave me. Well, as it turned it out, she left me anyway, so maybe someone decided to sabotage the relationship by sending her the review where I talked about being in love with the lead singer of White Dress. In that piece, I spoke of my brilliant plan to hide in the rafters of the venue she was playing that night and how I planned on swooping down with my black cape and giant fishnet to snatch her up and take her away with me.

Now I get it, on the surface that sounds creepy as fuck, but creepy is in the dark basement of the beholder. To me, that sounds like true love! But now that I think about it, whoever sent her that article might have done so to get my girlfriend out of the picture so they could have me all to themselves! And that type of diabolical cunning could be the type of love I need in my life right now. So, whoever you are out there, this old scrub is waiting for you!

And speaking of old, only a reboot of an old classic like Ghostbusters could get me out of retirement. And yes, just like Tom Brady, I refuse to go away. No one asks him to keep coming back but for some reason he continues to do so. Anyhow, when I saw that Paul Rudd was involved, I got unbelievably excited! Now, I wont rehash my previous review on the female Ghostbusters, because that article kept me from getting laid for almost three months! Things were so bad that when Oceans 8 came out, I automatically gave it a great review just because I couldn’t spend another night debating whether or not the cost of a flesh light was too much. I couldn’t take another streak like that!

But I digress. When I saw the first trailer for the new Ghostbusters, I actually got chills! You have to realize something, for someone who’s seen literally over a thousand movies in the past nine or ten years, that’s rare. And when you add to the fact that Paul Rudd just won the Sexiest Man Alive award, how can you not be excited? He’s like 75 and still looks like he did when he was in Clueless. His grandfather must’ve been a slave owner and he’s the third generation of that forced “love affair” because he must have some black in him. How do I know this? Because I’m 85 years old and Black and I look the same as I did when Clueless came out; except I’m not winning any awards! This is why they need to come out with a magazine that celebrates old hipsters! If there was an award for old scrubs who still stage dive at punk shows while drinking Lone Stars and liquor that tastes like peppermint; I’d clean up! For some reason my friends have resurrected Rumplemintz and Goldschlager from our high school days. Or, if there was an award for old scrubs who randomly blurt out lyrics from The Thong Song while doing the Sisqo yell regardless of where they are or what the situation is, I’d win that award every year! Someone get me Tori Spelling on the line, we need to make this happen.

Anyway, the point is, Paul Rudd inspired me! So, here we are, just a few days before Thanksgiving and I’m risking life and limb to watch an old sexy man chase around ghosts. Well, the first thing I should mention is that the producers were smart to put Paul Rudd in all of the previews and media interviews as he is clearly the main draw for this film. But, this is similar to when the studios promoted the casting of Steven Segal in the movie that was really all about Kurt Russell, Executive Decision. They sold you on the fact that a big action star was in it when in reality he was only in the film for like 15 minutes. Well it’s the same with Paul Rudd and Ghostbusters; he’s definitely in the movie, and provides the much needed comic relief, but he’s basically a glorified extra with some funny lines.

Now don’t get me wrong, he of course steals every scene he’s in; especially when he shows a classroom full of 12 year old kids a host of classic R rated horror films. But this reboot is all about the kids themselves, or as they billed it, the new generation. It puts it’s focus on the new Egon, Phoebe (Mckenna Grace) and the new Ray, Podcast (Logan Kim). They also throw in Phoebe’s older brother Trevor but he’s only there so they have someone old enough to drive them around. Now typically I avoid movies that stars little kids with everything that’s within me, mainly because the writers have them saying and doing things they would never say or be able to do in real life, but thankfully that wasn’t the case here. These were just normal, run of the mill, nerdy kids who were totally relatable. And when it came to the action scenes they were in, they actually had a pretty cool and thrilling set piece where they are speeding through town chasing after a ghost while blasting everything in sight! Yes, they basically lived out every 12 year-old’s wet dream in the 80’s which was to shoot an actual proton pack! I found myself cheering and rooting for these little kids and I don’t think it’s because I’m old enough to be a grandfather, I think it’s because it was actual good filmmaking. Damnit, these kids were likeable!

Podcast, is loner kid who has a podcast about unsolved mysteries and weird happenings. And similarly, Phoebe is a fellow loner who is smarter than everyone she comes into contact with, including Paul Rudd’s character who happens to be a seismologist. The writers went a little too overboard with all of her dad jokes but for the most part it was okay. They started off on fire but they progressively got worse and a little painful as the movie went on; but again, I respected their efforts. I actually have a book full of dad jokes, they should just hit me up next time if they need some material. But, if a kid telling dad jokes for two hours is my only complaint, I’ll take that every time.

Plus this films also stars Carrie Coon as Phoebe and Trevor’s mother. A quick word on her; it’s great to see that Hollywood is casting her and her clone, Vera Farmiga in films. It’s refreshing to see both beautiful and talented actresses get roles these days. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Jessica Alba, Denise Richards, Neve Campbell and the like, but man, I could only stare at boobs for so long before I wanted a little something more. And no perverts, I don’t mean that! Although I do kind of mean that too. But in the context of movies, I need to actually believe that you can be a rocket scientist or a sassy and street smart genetically engineered killing machine. Carrie Coon has the talent to do that!

She is guiding force in this film as she is forced to move her and her two kids out to some random country town in Oklahoma. This is due to the fact that she is broke and her father, who she claims abandoned her and her mother, has left her a piece of land as her inheritance. Her kids have never met their grandfather and the only thing they know about him is that he was known as the “dirt farmer”; some aloof weirdo who lived out on this farm by himself and never actually grew any crops. The only thing he ever did was keep to himself and buy random parts and machinery from the local dealer.

Well, as the kids learn more and more about this broken down old house, strange things start to happen and they begin to learn more about their grandfather and what it was that he was actually doing out there. And as they discover some hidden secrets, you start to see quite a few little nuggets from the original film. This movie is full of subtle and not so subtle nods to the original. You see the stacked books from the library, the chair that Dana Gordon sat in as she became possessed, you of course see their classic car, the weird helmet that Rick Moranis wore and there’s even an updated version of Slimer. People were literally cheering and gasping in the theater as these pieces of their childhood were brought back to the big screen. And I have to say, for those moments alone, seeing this film is worth it.

Of course, all of the actors from the original, outside of Moranis, make an appearance and when they do so, it’s actually critical to what’s happening in the context of the storyline. So they’re not there to simply collect a check. I thought this film was thoughtful and took its time in connecting the past to the present. The editors chopped it up a bit once the ghosts started to appear, probably because they felt it was a little too long, but if we can a 5 hour movie about some white savior kid in Dune, then damnit, we deserve a three hour quality film about busting ghosts!

I absolutely loved this film and I give it a rating of TIGHT!

The George Floyd Experience

I ask that you please bear with me as I take you through this emotional journey of mine. I promise that the final destination will be one that will give you a pretty clear picture of what a lot of Black people are feeling right now. I grew up in a small town in South Texas that was for the most part segregated. And no I’m not 65 years old and am recalling the days of when television and movies were all in black and white, I grew up watching G.I. Joe and reruns of Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back, so it was a time where you would think we would be living in a more civilized society.

The town I lived in wasn’t overtly racist or anything but we did have high schools that were predominantly white or predominantly black and brown; and thankfully for the cokeheads out there, we did have a private Catholic high school where no one would judge you if you happened to have a “random nosebleed”. So, it was basically Robert Downey Jr.’s wet dream before he got sober and became Ironman. On occasion there would be the random kid who yelled the word nigger at me, and of course since I went to the white high school and didn’t look and act like the Black people they saw in movies, they would say ignorant things like “Oh, you’re not really black” or “I’m blacker than you are”. Let me help you out white people, just because you’ve heard an Outkast song or two, that doesn’t give you the normal experience of a Black human in this world. I use this word human because there weren’t very many moments in my life where I actually felt like people viewed me as such; I’ve always either been seen as an encyclopedia for insight into Black history or merely a punching bag for those to unleash their casual racism on. The latter of which are the people who tell you racist jokes to prove they’re not actually racist; they tell you these awful things to show you that they are more woke than other white people. Well let me clue you in on something, that crap isn’t funny and it never will be!

So, it wasn’t long before I realized that small town Texas just wasn’t for me. My grandfather would tell me stories of how every time we drove through Austin, Texas I would tell him how I wanted to live there when I got older. I loved the sight of the Frank Erwin Center and even as a kid, 6^th street (now known as Dirty 6^th) sounded like a place that everyone could enjoy. Well wouldn’t you know it, even though I didn’t consciously make the decision to live up to that childhood dream of mine, here I am! And honestly, at least initially, it was everything I had hoped for.

But before we get to that, I had never really experienced any type of police harassment when I lived in that small town in Texas. I mean, I had heard stories from my friends who went to the black and brown school and how they were treated unfairly. And of course, my parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents told me all of the horror stories they experienced when they were growing up but that all sounded like a foreign movie to me. Don’t get me wrong, my friend and I had the random “being followed around the store” experience quite a bit but the hip hop I listened to prepared me for that. It was the truly brutal images that Tupac and Ice Cube painted when they eloquently described the things that were happening in their neighborhoods that seemed like something that would occur in a foreign land, not anything that would happen here. It wasn’t until I went to college in Dallas that I got my first taste of what most of my Black brothers and sisters had been telling me for years.

I went to a private school where a lot of CEO’s, government officials, and school presidents sent their kids to get their education so they could follow in their footsteps. My middle-class self was there on scholarship and was simply hoping to graduate. But to their credit none of the students made me feel like I was out of place, not until it was time to rush for a fraternity that is; that’s where I saw their desire to find a token Black kid to prove that they were diverse and progressive. I also saw a fraternity proudly displaying their Confederate flag and their all Black cleaning crew to let me know that I clearly wasn’t welcomed there unless I had a broom in hand. That was a pretty disgusting display but it was nothing that truly shocked me; I did grow up in South Texas after all. But the first day that I noticed cops following me around campus was the day that I started to fear for my life. My cousins, along with my brother who had all lived in Dallas for most of their lives, warned me about the cops and their attitudes towards Black people but for the most part I brushed it off. It wasn’t until I noticed that both the campus cops and the DPD were immediately turning around and following me the second they saw a Black man driving onto this campus that I realized something was off. They were not hiding the fact that they were calling into dispatch to see if the little Chevy S-10 pickup I was driving was reported stolen. It didn’t matter that I looked 16 and was wearing Steve Urkel glasses as I was driving, all they saw was someone who was guilty until proven innocent; the exact opposite of what this country’s justice system is built on. And after following me for quite some time, they finally decided that I wasn’t up to anything nefarious and would eventually drive off but this was something that happened multiple times a week literally every week I was in school.

A lot of people now, and even then, when I told kids about this, would say that I was simply being dramatic or paranoid but none of my white friends ever had this happen to them. My brother and cousins told me story after story of being harassed by cops and now suddenly this felt like something that could happen to me! I made up my mind right then and there that I had to get out of that town. And that’s how I ended up in Austin. Now you must be asking, well what does any of this have to do with George Floyd? Trust me, I’m getting there.

I finally get to my sanctuary, Austin Texas, land of live music, bar-b-que, and lots and lots of white people. The last part is significant because it reminded me of high school, as long as I hang out with a lot of white people, I’ll be just fine. Sure, as I went to my Black church on Sundays I heard stories of how bad the cops were but again, it all felt foreign to me, I didn’t see any of this myself so it couldn’t be true; not here in Austin! It wasn’t until I moved to the black and brown side of town to be closer to the live music that I finally had my moment. I was walking home by myself from a show and all of a sudden, I see a car speeding towards me going at least 50 mph on a residential street. Keep in mind, this is the poorer side of town, so there’s no sidewalk, I have no choice but to walk on the grass or walk on the street like everyone else did. Well seeing as how I see a car coming that fast at this time of the night, I automatically assume it’s a drunk driver and I casually step behind one of the many parked cars on the street to keep from getting hit. The next thing I know these bright lights start flashing and an angry cop jumps out of the passenger seat. He runs towards me and unsnaps the button to the holder that’s holding his gun so that he can draw it on me! I have no idea what’s going on but I immediately throw my hands in the air and ask what the hell is happening. He’s very aggressive, gets right in my face and asks me what the hell I’m doing. I brown out at this point due to my fear and have no clue what transpires for the most part after that but I will tell you that I still look like Urkel at this point. I’m just a little older but there’s nothing remotely frightening about me. I’m simply walking home just like the dozens of white people had done prior to me as they walked back to the newly built condo that fully represented the gentrification that was taking place on that side of town.

The only thing I remember was telling him that I was walking home and asking him to take a long hard look at how I was dressed; how could I be up to anything. He said, while never taking his hand off his gun, that the area had a lot of break-ins recently and he was ensuring that I wasn’t trying to steal a car. Well what’s funny is that none of my white friends who had also gone out that night had a run in with these cops; apparently, I was the only one who was pulled over. I don’t think I can overemphasize what it feels like to have a cop ready to draw his deadly weapon on you while he screams in your face but believe me when I say it’s traumatizing; especially when you consider all of the experiences your family and friends have shared with you before this. I didn’t go into specifics about what was shared with me until now for a reason because I wanted you to think about what was running through my mind as this happened. In this moment, I was thinking of all the beatings, the raping, and the killings that I had been warned about and it was when I had this cop intimidating me that I thought I was going to be another statistic.

Eventually the cop let me go without an apology but as I walked home, I realized that ever since college I had been literally and audibly gasping every time I saw a cop. I had suppressed these reactions and my general fear of the police because I wanted to maintain the illusion of safety in my sanctuary; Austin couldn’t be like this, not the place with the Frank Erwin Center and 6^th street. But it was true! And to this day, I audibly gasp in fear when I see a cop. I always think at that moment, is this the time where CNN will run a story about me? Will I be one of the thousands of stories that don’t make the news? Will my mom have to cry over loss of a son that’s done absolutely nothing wrong? Clearly, they don’t see any difference between someone with a criminal record and someone who has a college education; we all look the same to them. This is a feeling no one should have to live with every day. No one should live in fear of the people who were hired to protect them.

So now finally George Floyd. We of course all remember what happened to the innocent teen who was simply walking home with a soda and a bag of Skittles (Trayvon Martin) and was shot dead by a racist white man. We all remember Eric Garner being understandably upset after being stopped for the 30^th time by cops on the street and subsequently being suffocated to death over some loose cigarettes. We remember the 12-year-old kid (Tamir Rice) who was playing by himself in a park with a cap gun being gunned down by a policeman because he was seen as a threat. We all remember Sandra Bland driving home from work committing “suicide” in prison after being arrested for an illegal lane change. We all remember Ahmaud Arbery being murdered by racists in Georgia for having the audacity to jog in their neighborhood. We of course remember Breonna Taylor being shot and killed in her own bed because her boyfriend fit the description of someone they already had in custody. We all remember George Floyd being gruesomely killed in the middle of the street in broad daylight by a cop for 8 minutes and 46 seconds over the possibility that he may have used a fake $20 bill. Not many of us know of Fred Hampton being set up and killed by the FBI in his own bed for trying to unify black, brown, and white people to help edify the lower income and disenfranchised communities.

And after each one of these incidents, Black people were enraged and sometimes even marched for justice. But it wasn’t until we had been forced to stay at home for months at a time due to Coronavirus that a true movement was seemingly underway. It wasn’t until millions of people were unemployed, depressed, angry, and forced to look at the horror of the George Floyd murder that people of all races, backgrounds, and socio-economic status started to get off the couch and protest in anger! We saw buildings burn, highways get blocked off, and stores being looted. It seemed like real change was happening! I even saw white people form a wall in front of Black people to keep them from being tear gassed! Could this finally be it? Could this finally be the moment where we see the government get called out for using the clause in the 13^th Amendment to keep slavery legal? Could I finally feel safe walking out of my apartment again? People had to keep this going until they saw change! They had to be tired of seeing what I was seeing, Black people repeatedly dying at the hands of the cops! They had to finally be tired of white people coming up with excuses as to why these cops killed so many Blacks, tired of seeing the unbelievable discrepancy in Black people being pulled over and arrested. The country had to finally see that systemic racism didn’t end when Obama was elected.

Well as it turned out, I should have paid attention to my Black friends and family when they all looked at me with the side eye as I said these things to them. I was so excited and so passionate over the fact that change was going to come like Sam Cooke had promised!  I had seen White, Asian, and Hispanic people at these marches. People were posting constantly about racism and how they could get better. People were buying books online and were donating to and joining organizations like Black Lives Matter! NASCAR and even the NFL were changing their tone! But all the while my Black friends were telling me, just wait; we’ve seen this movie before and we know how it ends. Well three weeks into the movement, after George Floyd’s final funeral, after a few lame press conferences where empty promises were being made, it seems like everything has returned to “normal”. There’s less coverage of the actual protests and what the people really want, social media posts are returning to their normal mundane bullshit, and the return of sports is just around the corner.

I’ve gone downtown to the Austin Police Department and the State Capitol and there are fewer and fewer people gathered there each day. People have their Facebook and Instagram posts of them attending marches, they’ve ordered their book from a black owned store, and they’ve told their black friend that they’re an ally so now they feel good about themselves. But at the end of the day, police departments and city councils will delay the official votes on the changes they've proposed, the police unions will reject them and things will stay the same. And even in the cities where the proposed changes pass, the cops and the culture all still remain in place, so they of course won’t take the changes seriously and will continue to do what they’ve been trained to do. They will focus on criminalization and approaching every person who doesn’t look like them as the enemy. White people won’t notice this because their lives won’t change but me and my fellow Black friends will certainly notice. We’ll continue to live in fear each and every time we see a cop.

I will forever remember the day that I walked home from a night of what I thought would be more protests. To this point, I had pleaded with cops to stop killing us and shouted the chants that everyone else had chanted, “No Justice, No Peace”, “Black Lives Matter”, “What’s His Name? George Floyd!” And with each chant, I had several cops look at me as if they wanted to jump and beat me right then and there. Well the night I was walking home by myself with my protest sign, the streets were empty because people had lost interest in the protest and most of the bars and restaurants were closed due to Covid-19. So, it was just me, my protest sign, and the random cops on bikes and motorized vehicles who were passing by me. These cops had been working 12 hour shifts and were clearly on edge after two plus weeks of people yelling at them; there was nothing to keep them from unleashing their frustration on me. It was in this moment that I once again feared walking the streets of my sanctuary city! And sadly, ever since that day, that feeling has never left me. I honestly don’t feel as though there’s any place in America where I can feel safe. No significant changes have been made and my Black friends who were suspect were right all along; this is the worst version of Groundhog Day that has ever existed!

The Invisible Man

Another Black History Month has come and gone, and while we did gain an extra day this year, that’s about all we got. We couldn’t even get five minutes into our 800th viewing of The Color Purple before the damn Coronavirus broke out and started grabbing everyone’s attention. It couldn’t have come out a month before when everyone was cooped up inside because of the cold weather? The breakout would’ve ended right then and there because we were all too busy ordering tacos from Uber Eats, watching hours upon hours of Netflix, and banging each other senseless; no one was going outside to spread germs!

But no, it had to reach its peak in February, so instead of hearing about Frederick Douglas and George Washington Carver, we get to hear how the economy is going to hell because Becky and Daryl are too scared to go out to Whole Foods and get their kale salad for fear of getting sick; never mind the fact that Becky and Daryl just had unprotected sex the night before. The HPV vaccine doesn’t protect you from everything Becky, I’m just saying.

But enough complaining about a glorified flu (update - the Coronavirus turned out to be very real) and picking on poor Becky with the good hair. We did get one final treat before March hit and that was the release of The Invisible Man. Sadly no, this was not an adaptation of the book by Ralph Ellison, this was a horror movie starring one of the palest movie stars in the game today, Elisabeth Moss. Why was this a treat for Black people? Well it’s because Black people LOVE horror films, even though we are always the first ones to die in them. It gives us a chance to see someone else die and/or run for their lives for a change. It’s cathartic for us! Now I realize that we are way too loud in the movie theater and I know that we always sneak in food (possibly Popeye’s) and smell like weed but hey, it’s our one month to act up. This is our 28 day Get Out of Jail free card. Okay, bad example but you get my point. Just let us yell at people trying to escape from axe murderers for once, we only get so many pleasures in this life.

So naturally I go see The Invisible Man opening night and I of course wind up sitting next to a Black lady who legit sneaked in an entire meal. It smelled like I was at a family reunion BBQ. It was fantastic! But just before I could ask for a rib and a scoop of potato salad, the lights went down and the movie started. Blumhouse Studios have become the masters of making good low budget horror films. It forces the directors to rely on storytelling, camera angles, and good old fashion acting to make the movies work. They can’t just simply throw a bunch of money into terrible CGI to try and make the monsters scary, they actually have to be good at film making. And that’s exactly what we got in this film.

At first, I don’t think that even Elisabeth Moss thought that this was going to be a good film. You could tell that early on she was mailing it in but as the story kept unfolding and she realized that this was in fact a pretty decent story, she put her acting chops on full display and you could see why she’s quickly becoming an A-list star. For those who haven’t seen the trailer, the premise is her husband has died and left her quite a bit of money, however in order for her to be eligible to receive the money she must not be arrested for any criminal activity and she cannot be found to be mentally incompetent. Which, anyone who knows me, knows that those requirements immediately put me on the outside looking in.

But before he dies, you get a small glimpse into what their relationship was like. It’s full on Sleeping with the Enemy mode. They live in a phat home right on the beach and her husband controls her every move and thought as there are security cameras everywhere. We only know this because, like Julia Roberts, she’s trying to sneak out in the middle of the night without him knowing. Now at first, I thought this was going to fail because nothing can be scarier than some British dude with a Tom Selleck mustache sneaking up from behind you and forcing you to have sex to Berlioz’s haunting symphony. “Yo dude, can we at least get some Wham? Make me feel special!”

But the director establishes early on what kind of fright fest you’re in store for. The entire time she’s trying to escape, the camera slowly pans away to what appears to be empty and quiet parts of the house, but the longer the shot stays there, the longer you question if she’s really by herself. It perfectly captures the creepy feeling we have when we think we’re being watched or followed. And this continues throughout the entirety of the movie.

Now most people will pick up early on that it’s not in fact a ghost that is haunting her due to a pretty obvious giveaway in the film but the bolder this thing or being gets, the more you realize that it is in fact scarier than a British dude with a mustache. By the time this invisible thing decides to take on an entire police station, you’re convinced that it’s the ghost of Suge Knight trying to kidnap as many white women as he possibly can.

I will say that they spent so much time and effort on the first two acts of the film that by the time the final scene came around, it felt like everyone, including Moss, was exhausted and just kind of rushed through the final scene. So, in that sense, it kind of fell flat but thankfully it wasn’t enough to kill, no pun intended, everything that took place before it.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film and I give it a rating of pretty FRESH!