Rosenbush Cafe

G-Force Prepares to Save World

Reviewed By Henry B. Rosenbush
3D Version

Producer Jerry Bruckheimer’s first foray into the computer animated 3D arena is a pleasing mixture of live action and humorous pop culture references guaranteed to entertain kids and adults. Teaming with long-time special effects genius Hoyt Yeatman, Oscar Winner in 1989 for Best Visual Effects on The Abyss, for his feature directing debut, Bruckheimer brings his usual big budget action set-pieces of pyrotechnics, car chases and dazzling visuals to the story of super spy guinea pigs.

Rounding out the furry secret agents is a computer savvy mole and a house fly who’s equipped with better surveillance devices than Homeland Security.

Although roundly blasted by critics, G-Force managed to unseat Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince from the top spot at the box-office in its opening weekend, July 24th.

Critics may be unkind but credit this Hollywood producer’s knowledge of what audiences want and since his films have grossed over $6 Billion. The salary of every film critic in the world cannot match his talent and this doesn’t even include the CSI Franchise and his many other television productions.

Yeatman has worked with on Bruckheimer films before including Crimson Tide (1995) and Armageddon (1998), where he was responsible for destroying Paris.

With a screenplay by husband and wife writing team, the Wibberleys, G-Force is a brisk exercise in storytelling: sort of evil coffee making magnate Leonard Saber (Bill Nighy) may or may not be planning world domination via intelligent weapon-wielding appliances, space-based satellites and a nasty computer virus.

It’s up to the team of wise-cracking furry creatures, headed by Darwin (voiced by Sam Rockwell), Speckles (Nicolas Cage in a career-wise turn as the mole), the alluring Juarez (Penélope Cruz) and Blaster (Tracy Morgan), who is enamored of the sole femme member. A daring and cleverly rendered nighttime infiltration of Saber’s massive estate during a lavish party, where he has entertained his guests with high technical wizardy about the future of home appliances, displays the individual talents of the team.

After downloading “Operation Clusterstorm” onto a PDA the team escapes back to their headquarters where the human mastermind behind the team Ben (Zach Galifianakis) and his comely assistant Marcie (Kelli Garner) await proof that Saber is using his military contracts to fund nefarious deeds. Unfortunately, the PDA contains no such evidence of any dastardly plan and enrages smarmy FBI Agent Kip Killian (Will Arnett) who disbands G-Force.

In the film’s funniest bits, the team ends up undercover in a pet shop where Darwin meets over-eating guinea pig Hurley (a manic Jon Favreau) who has a severe problem with flatulence and the paranoid seed-hording hamster named Bucky (the always enjoyable Steve Buscemi). Hurely is convinced Darwin is his brother; later revelations concerning the origins of the team lends much need pathos and genuine emotional weight to the otherwise light entertainment.

Nicholas Cage's New Career as a Mole

When Blaster and Jaurez are adopted by a brother and sister (Piper Mackenzie Harris and Tyler Patrick Jones) they are forced into what could be construed as abuse. Juarez has to wear dresses, make-up and nail polish while Blaster is set behind the wheel of a remote controlled car for Evil Knievel-style stunts. Speckles is less fortunate for after “playing dead” he is tossed into a convenient garbage truck, but this being a kiddies’ themed film it’s no spoiler to advise he’ll turn up in the climax.

After an clever but unintentional escape, Darwin and tag-a-long Hurley
make their way back to HQ with the help of the fly, whose aerial maneuvers would defy any armed forces. On the way, however, the duo encounters one of Saber’s coffeemakers which contain a microchip that turns the ordinary appliance into dangerous and ill-tempered machine complete with whirring blades and lasers!

At 87 minutes, the film doesn’t overstay its slight plotting and everything leads to several exciting Bruckheimer movie leitmotifs: a harrowing car chase between FBI agents in black SUVs against tiny plastic bubbles containing the tiny heroes through a fireworks display all cool mixtures of live action and CGI.

The climax, which involves a great “Transformers”-inspired homage, reveals the actual plot, reunites Speckles with G-Force and everything is efficiently tied together. A brief party sequence begins the end credits with excellent use of the popular Flo Rida/Nelly Furtado tune, “Jump.” (Flo Rida also gets an end credit song with “Right Round” in “The Ugly Truth.”)

Special effects are all top notch and the 3D effects add depth in unexpected ways, especially in a scene where the fly is darting through a collection of hungry snapping Venus Fly Traps. The transforming appliance sequences are powerful and when an electronic store comes alive with all manner of device chasing customers the use of 3D is both harrowing and exciting.

The vocal work is smoothly handled with kudos to everyone, especially the teaming of Rockwell and Jon Favreau who work well off one another. Cruz and Morgan add cuteness to their blossoming love while Cage’s nasal reading for Speckles is dead on but he is unfortunately odd-animal-out due to his character’s early departure but his return is the film’s best twist.

Among the humans, Galifianakis fares best while Garner is merely eye candy; it’s never explained whether or not she is Ben’s girl friend although it would appear so and Nighy is not so much evil as just another ruthless and greedy businessman who wants to more. The script doesn’t give Arnett enough to do besides display annoyance and disbelief; his fate, however, is a big laugh and reminiscent to that of another odious character from Ivan Reitman’s “Stripes” 28 years ago.

Adults will be amused by pop references from more adult fare such as Brian DePalma’s Scarface (”This is my little friend, say hello”) to John McTiernan’s Diehard (”Yippie-ki-yay, coffeemaker”).

The rude humor rating is mainly for Hurley’s flatulence and a “poop in his hands” suggestion by three mice who sound like they’re channeling Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Harris and Jones, as the sister and older brother, are not mean children although when Jones catapults Hurley into a pet store snake display, it’s bound to catch some youngsters off-guard due to 3D effect that follows.

A Walt Disney Pictures release presented with Jerry Bruckheimer Films. Produced by Bruckheimer; executive producers, Duncan Henderson, David P.I. James, Chad Oman and Mike Stenson; co-producer, Todd Arnow. Directed by Hoyt H. Yeatman Jr. from a screenplay by the Wibberleys from a story, Yeatman and David P.I. James.

Camera (Technicolor, 3-D), Bojan Bazelli; editors, Mark Goldblatt, Jason Hellmann; music, Trevor Rabin; music supervisors, Kathy Nelson; production designer, Deborah Evans; supervising art director, Ramsey Avery; art directors, Charles Daboub Jr., Daniel R. Jennings; set decorator, Leslie E. Rollins; costume designer, Ellen Mirojnick; sound (Dolby Digital/DTS/SDDS), Lee Orloff; supervising sound editor, George Watters II; visual effects supervisor, Scott Stokdyk; digital effects supervisor, Seth Maury; animation supervisor, Troy Salba; assistant director, Richard Graves; casting, Ronna Kress.

Reviewed at The Hollywood 16 Theater, Tuscaloosa, AL July 28, 2009. MPAA Rating: PG for some mild action and rude humor. 1:27 In 3D and 2D.

Cast
Saber - Bill Nighy
Kip Killian - Will Arnett
Ben - Zach Galifianakis
Marcie - Kelli Garner
Connor - Tyler Patrick Jones
Penny - Piper Mackenzie Harris
Speckles - Nicolas Cage
Darwin - Sam Rockwell
Hurley - Jon Favreau
Juarez - Penelope Cruz
Bucky - Steve Buscemi
Blaster - Tracy Morgan

Une jeune femme en robe de velours carmin bordé de fourrure (1840)

eXisTenTiaLNihLisT

Aimée Zoe Lizinka de Mirbel painted, Louis XVIII, in 1818, without a sitting! The following year she was commissioned to paint the king’s official portrait. That’s talent, dear hearts.

eXisTenTiaLNihLisT with Ricocheted Laughing For good measure: Adult Themes, Language, Arcane Drug References and David and Venus, nude, but not naked; Dedicated to Kalliope Amorphous Musecatcher

I remember when I was a child seeing fifites personality Garry Moore burped on live on his variety televison program, The Garry Moore Show; not for comic or vulgar effect, but because he had to belch. Even as a youngster I though it was funny, but embarassing. Mr. Moore immediatly appologized and continued his monologue.

On The Red Skeleton Show, another live program, a cow on stage for a skit decided it was just as convenient to shit on stage as in a cow pasture. You could see the actor’s facial and olfactory reactions and naturally the quick thinking pepperidge farm joke was priceless. A horse did the same on Johnny Carson’s show and like the previous story it was captured live so we all got to see it happen in real time.

Television shows were bold enough to stay live rather than cut to commercials so audiences could be assured of surprises that today are edited, bleeped or excised because we’re too naïve or sophisticated for such scatalogical humor.

Pretty stupid when you consider the word sucks, which alludes to oral sex more than anything else, has found it’s way, not only into primetime television lexicon, but commercials as well. Hate the word unless we’re talking about vacuum cleaner power settings of Black Holes.

Playhouse 90 produced some of the best programs, and directors like the late John Frankenheimer and Sidney Lumet, got their big breaks in the live TV arena. As expected, mistakes were rare but when they occurred it wasn’t a big deal. Pardon My Blooper had a field day with the uncensored TV, Radio and Newscast faux pas and produced albums in the seventies that can still make one laugh hysterically.

One wonders have far off the cliff society has gone since the fifties. The Nuclear Family has been replaced by the Pipe Bomb Quartet; mum, dad, little Billy and sister Kate. People are no longer friendly to their neighbors, that’s assuming they know their names, and less caring about strangers or people in need. Beaver has left even the best father became a a welby doctor and ozzie knew better than to make harriet angry.

Today, everyone is angry and often for no reason other than the world is so over-populated with hatred and uneducated college graduates who haven’t the slight idea what syntax means that it’s no wonder many of them end up in the corporate sector.

For the record, syntax has nothing to do with taxing sinners and everything to do with language.

I was wondering recently, while smoking a peace pipe filled with meatless pot pies, at what a deranged race the human one has become (heh, guess we always were). Why are many of us interested in what the rich and famous are doing, especially when it’s bad. Coke-sniffing starlets, cheating spouses and DWIs seem to bring out the worse side of inhumanity; “oooh, so glad it wasn’t me.”

But it is you and me and them. We all do something we’re not proud of at some point in life; however, many people out grow the need for illicit drugs and unsafe sex while there are others who thrive on the dark side.

Imagine world renowned American portrait photographer Annie Leibovitz as a mugshot photographer. Half naked actresses failing to walk the straight line and ending up with a nice pic of themselves with dirty hair, blurry bloodshot eyes and the look of castaways from COPS. Would they be embarassed once they get out of Rehab? Hell no, the shots would make great Christmas Cards for there friends.

I recently read stories from irate citizens as to how a movie was going to adversely affect the adoption business in “Orphan.” Hmm, worse than “Bruno?” These are the same people (they never see the films they want to ban) that castigated Martin Scorsese’s “The Last Temptation of Christ?” They freaked at Robert Mapplethorpe photos because they are terrified of art. These people would probably make Michelangelo’s David (1501-4) wear shorts. Yes, he is naked and yes you can see his penis, and what a nice one at that!

David, as sculpted by Michelangelo

For those of you fearful or misguided about penises, they are not an optional feature like On-Star. Most men come fully equipped although most use them in an improper manner. No manual. I love that word…Man, U-Al. Think about it. At least artists knew (and still know) the human body is as complex and disturbing to some eyes as the realization that the world is neither flat nor the centre of the universe.

While “Orphan” is merely a horror movie, and certainly not for all audiences, it is still a piece of celluloid created to make money. It shouldn’t be banned because a group doesn’t like it. Like a TV set or Radio: there is an off switch for those foolish enough to misunderstand what the on switch was for and no one forces anyone to go to the cinema.

If I didn’t live in West Alabama, where art films are difficult to see unless you go to Atlanta or Montgomery’s Capri Theater, I would be broke going to films from throughout the world. My DVD and Video collections of foreign films is at least as big as Barnes and Noble. The T-Town B&N has a large gay and lesbian film section now and good for them…the lesbians and gay men, not B&N!

Art is for art’s sake, whether you believe it or just enjoy the great seventies 10cc song; “Art for art’s sake, Money for god’s sake…money talks, so listen to it, money talks to me.” Typically, I truncated the lyrics for those who already know it; if not, get cracking, find it and listen.

As a writer, I am glad for the freedom to express myself and as an ExNil
I can leap the consciousness stream and change subjects and directions in the manner of the well-know river analogy.

Adoption Advocates: It's only a horror movie

I recall the Nazi’s destroyed books and works of art and the Taliban has a hatred for statues and women’s rights to exist. When I went to see “Orphan,” mainly because I was in a “right comical mood” I thought the only problem with the adoption agencies and children needing good homes is that too many women, who shouldn’t, would rather get pregnant and add to the population explosion rather than help existing life forms already starving for love and parents and an opportunity at growing up with family.

I am one of those people who believes responsible gay couples are better parents than none at all.

Now, in two grafs, I’ve probably pissed off the anti-gay movement and pregnant women who’d say, “How dare you.” I wrote some months ago how I wanted to come back as a Suicide Girl and play in Von Iva’s band so in another life I could have been a feminist but instead….yawn….I’m a man. Proud to be me, but often less so of the overall male population.

For your information, I do not have children. I have 13 cats and while I am not against children, even the evil movie variety, I realized many decades ago I would never be a father - good or otherwise - and would be better at supporting those who have children and rescuing abused animals. I have tenants, too, who sometimes are like children who need a spanking, but instead I raise their rent.

Glad to be artistic

Charles Pierre Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil, 1857) is classic French Lit, and luckily immorality and cynicism don’t erase decadence from the mindscape. Although his poetry found a small, but appreciative audience, the masses weren’t ready for themes of lesbianism, sex and death. And why not? They have been with us always and have inspired artists, painters, sculptors and writers for generations. In his brief life, 1821-67, Baudelaire impressed as much as he shocked and like Flaubert, who had to endure attacks, re: Madame Bovary, at least continued their talents in the world of creativity.

Could the French Miniaturist Aimée Zoe Lizinka de Mirbel find a steady job today and would she be happy with the 21st Century? What worthwhile endeavor could a Miniaturist from the 19th Century expect from our excessive culture? She’d be confined to a cartoonists’ milieu and her delicate style would be at odds with our brutish larger than reality commericialism.

Subtle days where have you gone?

Henriette Ronner-Knip would have a field day with the felines residing here. Maybe not the “Parson’s Cat,” but she have plenty of strays as models. “Meow,” says the big black cat and Henriette would be happy until pay day.

The Birth of Venus: Botticelli ode to Quattrocento

In the interest of fairness, especially now that ShyGirl has hopped onto the back of my writing chair to lick hair on the back of my head, and she has reminded me of Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi, who the other cats know simply as Sandro Botticelli or Il Botticello, they advise if I am going to give art lovers a lesson in male anatomy what better female example than The Birth of Venus (1486)?

Botti might have enjoyed his contributions to the Quattrocento more had he known that, under the patronage of Lorenzo de Medici, the Early Renaissance would be characterized as a “golden age” thanks to architect and Italian painter Giorgio Vasari.

I’d like to be remembered as part of a memorable artistic age but alas, future alien races, when they arrive centuries hence to study the planet earthendam, now inhabited by animals and plants and insects only, will excavate Golden Arches, Fire Arms and Hard drives.

Will they find the Mona Lisa? How about a copy of André Breton’s landmark Manifestoes of Surrealism or even Barbara G. Walker’s wonderful The Woman’s Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects?

No.

Artistically or esthetically we will have probably removed all creativity from our solar system.

They will find remnants of the human race. Even if we somehow leave this planet, a la WALL-E, no one will first clean up the garbage. Fortunately, albeit, millions of years later, the earth will replenish itself and the blight that we have left will be as if it never existed. Even space is our landfill with desolate satellites, pieces of space debris and lest we forget where the Space Shuttle or Space Station sends its sewage.

How sad that all the great works of art and fiction could be gone, unless someone is wise enough to take them to the next world, populated soley with creatives. A planet with rings, two moons and a better view of the universe thanks to a ban on all sporting events and super-Nova lighting.

No politicians, clergy or violence-prone humanoids. No need for spouse abuse or child endangerment. A cup of decaff purple tea and a hand-rolled Corn Dolly.

Tricky. No matter who is in charge of the list some schmucks will stowaway so don’t forget the catapults.

They will serve a useful purpose on our next home.

Well, dear friends, the stairs and walkway replacement has finally been completed and new tenants will be moving into the Henri Villas this weekend. The sewer line and stair projects were expensive and time consuming but now I can move on to more projects to irritate the Uni that spent a lot of time and money trying to do likewise to me. “They don’t know me very well, do they?”

Naturally, the real world business comes first so I can continue the free virtual one. Heh, heh.

I haven’t forgotten promised retrospectives on George Carlin and Harry Nilsson or that my Pot Pies for Peace riff is still incomplete. They will be up soon so check back if you’re feeling risky bisky.

Last night, coming off a migraine, I spent my last few July dollars, albeit with a Senior Citizen Discount, to see G-Force in 3D and the Harry Potter movies so reviews are coming shortly. If you see G make certain it’s the 3D, not 2D version, (you may want to do so without remnants of a migraine but hey, I ‘m a moobie junkie); expect Potter to leave you hanging…again and if JKR isn’t going to write another, after becoming a billionaire, and she left us and Harry standing on a mountain. Certainly was darker and more sexually frustrating for all those young horny wizards in training, but art imitates life.

Also, again it’s good to see Kalli, the Musecatcher, back in the cyber world. Looking forward to getting work done but for now..off to the bank, post office and a carpet outlet to finish real world Wednesday stuff.

See you later at the Cafe de Rose n Bush.

Pygmalion Redux: Heigl Teases Butler

Reviewed by Henry B. Rosenbush

Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler trade insults, sexual innuendos and predictably fall in love in the uneven sex farce, The Ugly Truth, which came in third at the box-office this past weekend with a $27.6 million take. It figures to fade faster than the vibrating panties orgasm, which is undoubtedly the highlight in this lowbrow, ribald comedy.

A more raunchy date movie than The Proposal it shares that film’s thematic arc in that two people who do not get along will eventually find true love. What may disturb feminists or sensitive women is that although directed by a man, Australian Robert Luketic, who helmed Legally Blond, the script is written by three women; Karen McCullah Lutz, Kirsten Smith, and Nicole Eastman. Lutz and Smith co-scripted Blond in 2001 while this is Eastman’s first screenwriting gig.

The story is rife with crude sexual dialogue, humor and situations and while there are plenty of laughs sporadically peppering the bawdy script there are no surprises. With nine producers, including Heigl and her mother, Nancy, the production design is busy and although composer Aaron Zigman supplies a peppy score Russell Carpenter’s cinematography is a bit on the dingy side and the cheesy climax display some of obvious process photography of any current film. Betsy Heimann’s costume designs takes every opportunity to accentuate Heigl’s shapely contours while dressing Butler in a raggedly look that befits his character.

Heigl plays Abby Richter, a gorgeous control-freak television producer whose early morning Sacramento, California television show is in need of a rating’s boost which comes in the form of Mike Chadway, a vulgar macho shock-jock style tale show host whose, “The Ugly Truth,” portends to tell women what men really are looking for in a relationship. It’s not much of a stretch to expect that Abby immediately dislikes the sexually-driven Mike who after some early tête à tête becomes her mentor in the art of attracting across the courtyard neighbor, Colin (Eric Winter) a handsome doctor.

In an earlier scene, Abby, while on a blind date, shocks the man with a checklist about him and the fact she has done a background check. The fact that Abby is alluring and intelligent is ignored in favor of making her character incapable of finding love due to her neurotic behavior. Mike has driven the ratings shares higher than ever and on a bet he promises Abby he’ll tutor her in snaring Colin - cue Pygmalion - or quit.

When Abby Met Mike: Orgasmic Business Dinner

What follows is absurd but a mixed bag of juvenile humor as, with microphone to ear piece, Mike instructs Abby on a myriad of Dos and Don’ts culminating with a business dinner which apes the famous fake orgasm scene in When Harry Met Sally, albeit with vibrating panties and a remote control that falls into the hands of an unaware young boy at another table.

Naturally, the film has its moments and Heigl and Butler is a handsome couple, although Mike’s scruffy beard is an instant clue to his lived in quality. Heigl, who is naturally beautiful, is, in early scenes, is not photographed in the most flattering manner but as her confidence and sexy wardrobe changes so does she. Butler loses his British accent in favor of West Coast lingo.

The supporting cast is mostly forgettable with the exception of Bree Turner as Joy, Abby’s assistant who has some moments and Cheryl Hines, as Georgia, and John Michael Higgins, as Larry, married co-anchors whose sex lives blossom under Mike’s on-air tutelage. Winter is mainly male eye candy but is eventually left with a case of the blues by fadeout. Vicki Lewis has a cute cameo as a saleswoman and Craig Ferguson has a few minutes to play himself if only to expose Mike’s Achille’s Heel leading to the hot air finale. Film threatens to get too serious in the final reel but wisely returns to its original aspirations in time for a “you’ll never know” final romp.

Mainstream Trailer

A Sony Pictures Entertainment release of a Columbia Pictures presentation in association with Relativity Media of a Lakeshore Entertainment/Steven Reuther production. Produced by Reuther, Kimberly di Bonaventura, Deborah Jelin Newmyer, Tom Rosenberg and Gary Lucchesi; executive producers, Andre Lamal, Eric Reid, Katherine Heigl, Nancy Heigl, Karen McCullah Lutz, Kirsten Smith and Ryan Kavanaugh. Directed by Robert Luketic from a screenplay by Nicole Eastman, Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith from a story by Eastman.

Camera (Deluxe color, Panavision widescreen), Russell Carpenter; editor, Lisa Zeno Churgin; music, Aaron Zigman; production designer, Missy Stewart; art director, Will Hawkins; set designer, Sarah Contant; set decorator, Kathy Lucas; costume designer, Betsy Heimann; sound (Dolby Digital/SDDS/DTS), Steven A. Morrow; supervising sound editor, Michael Babcock; supervising sound mixers, Steve Pederson, Babcock; assistant director, Jon Mallard; second unit director, James McQuaide; casting, Tricia Wood, Deborah Aquila.

Cast
Abby Richter - Katherine Heigl
Mike Chadway - Gerard Butler
Colin - Eric Winter
Larry John Michael Higgins
Joy - Bree Turner
Stuart - Nick Searcy
Jim - Kevin Connolly

Reviewed at Hollywood 16 Theaters, Tuscaloosa, AL, July 27, 2009. MPAA Rated R for sexual content and language. 1:35

International Trailer: Adult Scenes and Language

The Mother of Many: Kitsya B. McCoy

The Mother of So Many it boggles the mind. Kitsya B. McCoy, sometimes known as Kitja or Kit, has spawned a huge feline population beneath The Henri Villas since at least 1999. Three of her offspring, Bianco Banco Kittery and sister, Calico Guggenheim Kittery, both of the Maine Kitteries, and Kitya Coy, are now residents at the house and are sweet testimonies to the love she has instilled in many a feline.

Many have gone away and I have buried a few that were killed by speeding and uncaring students who use the alley as a race track. Pity those students as they graduate and wonder one day why animals hate them. Maybe on a safari they will be devoured by the big cats! One can daydream, I guess.

However, watching her today, with her newest babies trying to eat and avoid the loudness of the final phase of the stair replacement, reminded me why I have such a love for animals that is often stronger than my feelings for fellow humans; she does not judge me and is as happy with a bowl of dry food as humans with Ipods or a six-pack of regret..

Needing a smile today all I had to do was look in her direction and all was better.

Thanks Kit.