I’ve not done a good job of reporting various films and DVDs watched this summer, so I thought I’d do a kind of round-up/catch-up post. Then I realized how many there were and got discouraged, and said to myself, Self, we’ll do this, but we’re not spending any more than one sentence on each one. Thus:
Superman Returns (2006): New guy plays Christopher Reeve playing Superman—or is it Superdeadbeatbabydaddy?
I, Robot (2004): Robots are the new minority, but this time racism is right.
Operation Petticoat (1959): Women infiltrate Cary Grant and Tony Curtis’s submarine (read phallus) and hilarity (read emasculation) ensues.
The Lady Eve (1941): I was hooked at “My name is Jean but it’s really Eugenia.” And at Henry Fonda.
Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005): Can we cure the pain of mundane loneliness by “pooping back and forth”? (Note that this review is designed to require those of you who have no idea what “pooping back and forth” is to see the film and find out. If you don’t laugh yourself into a coma at that scene, I think there is something wrong with you.)
Fever Pitch (1997—UK version): Colin Firth really really really likes football, like, a lot.
After the Thin Man (1936): Nick & Nora, a young Jimmy Stewart, and inscrutable Chinese gangsters—it really sells itself.
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962): She went fucking insane.
Murder on the Orient Express (1974): With a cast like this, maybe everyone did it.
Thank You for Smoking (2005): For a movie about loose morals, it sure didn’t have Katie Holmes take her shirt off. (More interestingly, perhaps, no one smokes a single cigarette as far as I recall. Discuss.)
Transformers: The Movie (1984): Robotkind is threatened by a giant horned anus that consumes all in its path; autobots rock out ’80s-style and save the universe.
Short Circuit (1986): Number 5 is alive, and infinitely more charismatic than Steve Guttenberg.
Megalodon (2004): Gigantic prehistoric shark takes way too long to eat bad acting.
The Libertine (2004): In the Restoration period, bein’ bad feels so … bad.
The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947): A spinster judge (Myrna Loy), determined to fight pedophilia with more pedophilia, sentences an apparently crime-prone artist (Cary Grant) to date her smitten little sister (a blooming Shirley Temple, who occasionally bears a disturbing resemblance to Marilyn Monroe), which turns everyone on.
42nd Street (1933): Just keep watching—the Busby Berkeley is at the end.
OK, I think that covers it. I’ll have to save catch-up book reviews for another time.