Extra Credit Review - Sunday Morning Shootout (2003)

So, wake the kids and phone the neighbors. I've made an executive decision.

Any non-movie review of an RDJR work is an "extra credit review." For said blog post, I receive extra credit. No, I don't know what the extra credit is for. Yes, I know that a TV interview really doesn't fit into the category of "body of work." Get your own blog and quit picking on me; I have little else to occupy my mind.

So, here's the sitch. "Sunday Morning Shootout" is a TV show that appears on some channel somewhere. The set looks like a big Starbucks, and our guest sits at a little round table with 2 film industry pundits that I've never seen before, nor will I ever see again. But evidently I'm supposed to know who they are.

Our Hero participated in this interview right after he finished "Gothika", which we coincidentally just reviewed. Isn't that nice. Also, he was about to start on "A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints," which we reviewed in January (and were not terribly impressed with, I might add), and his album "The Futurist" (which we also reviewed in January, and were quite impressed with).

Okay, so I really like to watch interviews, and I don't even necessarily mean famous-people-type conversations. I like to see how people react to questions that they don't exactly anticipate. This is also why I love job interviews (both sides of the table). So you think that's weird? Well, there are people who get off on looking at videos of feet. Go judge them.

2 interesting points. Point 1 - pundit #1 criticized Chaplin, the Holy Grail. I am not alone. Point 2 - RDJR admitted that he has a tendency to be a cocky little SOB, at least in his previous life (my summary, and if I have misinterpreted, well - he'll never know anyway). Most cocky SOB's have not the slightest idea that they are anything other than clever and charming...so I was happy to hear Our Hero make this admission.

And there you have it, dearest reader. I get a gold star and 5 extra points to boost my grade.

Really? Really?

Well, dearest reader - you are going to love this.

I am down to my last Netflix RDJR flick. It's called "Johnny Be Good" and it stars Anthony Michael Hall and Our Hero. Please note that I did not save the best for last. Anyway, after this little nugget, my Netflix queue will be reduced to TV shows in which Our Hero has appeared, and my movie list shall consist of certain hard-to-find gems.

So I received my little red Netflix envelope the other day, and lo and behold - no movie. It was a TV show. For you Netflix virgins - if you have a movie in your queue, and it's not available for some reason, they send the next thing on your list - in my case, Mr. TV. Befuddled, I checked my Netflix queue to learn that "Johnny Be Good" has a waiting list.

Yes-it is true. I have to WAIT to watch what is most certainly going to be a visual turd bomb strapped to a guy with a mullet because there are OTHER PEOPLE IN LINE in front of me.

So....either some other poor, pathetic soul is engaging in a Project like mine, or some other poor, pathetic soul has really, uh, questionable taste in films.

Boy howdy. I should have it next week. To quote Samuel L. Jackson from Jurassic Park - hold on to your butts. We shall see if it was worth the wait.

Black Wednesday

So, another round of layoffs today at my place of employment. One person gone, one person cut to half-time, a branch office closed. I had really hoped that the last round of layoffs (a year ago now) would have been it...that as a result of that day, we'd be bare-bones and we wouldn't have to go through this again.

But evidently I was wrong.

So, the person who is gone is a woman I've known for 30 years. I truly don't know how she will find another job, in an area where 10 percent of the people are unemployed, and she's over 60. I feel lousy, mostly because I told her about the job to begin with, and because she's been let go and brought back before; so it's like being dumped twice by the same guy. I have a sneaking suspicion that she won't take us up on an offer to return a third time, should it ever be made again.

And I feel even lousier that I don't feel overly lousy. In the back of my mind, I knew that something drastic was going to have to happen, because the money is not coming in - but yet, we all still expect our paychecks. I wasn't far enough up the totem pole to know exactly WHAT that something drastic would be until just 90 minutes or so before it happened. Anyway, when I heard, I certainly wanted to puke - but I knew that there were few other options. Cut a few now and close an under-performing branch or face closing ALL the doors in a few months...I'm not privy to the financial records (that totem pole thing again), but unless the boss has a bucket of cash somewhere, that seems like it would be the logical conclusion.

I heard somewhere that this is called "survivor's guilt" - the phenomenon when you feel badly for someone, but relieved that it wasn't you - and I guess that's a good name for it. I feel guilty. And I'm also triaging how this will affect my department (which it will, substantially). So then I feel doubly guilty for focusing on myself and my workload instead of my 2 co-workers.

Bad Tina. Bad Bad Tina. Bad friend.

So, this all takes effect on August 1st. Boy, July's going to be lots and lots of fun. A regular dance party. I'll keep you posted.

Review #53 - Gothika (2003)

A summary, thanks to Netflix: "A criminal psychologist (Halle Berry) awakens to find that she's a patient in the same mental institution where she works; she's being accused of murdering her husband (Charles S. Dutton), but has no memory of committing the murder as she tries to regain her memory and convince her co-workers of her innocence, a vengeful spirit uses her as an earthly pawn, which further convinces everyone of her guilt."

Are you into horror/suspense flicks that are, thankfully, not gory? Do you have rather low expectations as to dialogue when watching same? Have you consumed a little wine during the opening credits?

If you can answer "yes" to all of these, you probably will think this movie is okay. The dialogue was pretty cheesy. RDJR's character never really did anything useful, other than to provide the momentary "is he actually the bad guy?" diversion. There were parts where you really didn't know what/why/when. But - it was entertaining.

And, hello, when people come back in spirit form to avenge their deaths, they are supposed to be NICE to the person who is helping them exact their vengeance. DUH. Everyone knows that, except the screenplay writer in this case.

Would I run right out and rent it? Probably not. But if it comes on HBO some night, and you have nothing better to do, go ahead and watch it.

I give it a 6.

Excited? Depends.

I was tooling around on Amazon (the closest decent indie bookstore is 50 miles away, so I tool around on Amazon a lot)and noticed that they have "movies on demand."

hmm.

You know, dearest reader, because you've memorized my every word to date, that there are 15 or so RDJR movies that I can't get from Netflix or Blockbuster. So, what are the chances that Amazon would have them???

Well, I plugged in "Robert Downey" and found 2 more movies that I can't find anywhere else. I was so excited I think I peed a little.

The Project marches on.

If This is a Mid-Life Crisis, Does That Mean I'll Die at 80?

On Tuesday, my oldest daughter turned 19. Today, my baby turns 11. Next week, my oldest turns 21.

Wow.

So, I know that everyone says this, but it all really just seems like yesterday. T-ball, Tiger Scouts, Missionettes, cupcakes to school, grade school music programs, valentines. Yeah, I still get to live it a little with my youngest - but, alas, not for much longer. He's going to be in the 5th grade this fall. A pre-teen. He's starting to pit out and stink when he sweats...the beginning of the end.

And what does that make me, exactly? Mom - not really needed so much anymore. Wife - not hardly. Star employee - well, I gotta say it, work is boring to me now. I haven't learned anything new in a long time, and that's the kiss of death for someone like me, with the attention span of a 4-month old Labrador retriever.

When I started this Project, I told myself that I am, in fact, a WRITER. Above and beyond all else, I write. I am a writer who happens to have a day job. I am a writer who is barreling toward Empty Nest Syndrome. I am a writer with a child in an Army uniform in Iraq. I am a writer with a daughter who's about to fly off to Denver for college. I am a writer who could probably use some Paxil.

Thank God for The Project. Have I said that lately? And thank God for you, dearest reader, and your kind words over the past several months.

Peace out.

A John Deere Letter

Dear Drama -

I am tired of you. Please leave me alone. Do not call. Do not write. Just move on.

It's not that we haven't had some good times together - oh, we certainly have. It's just that I'm to the point in my life now where I have..well..outgrown you.

You've been assuming several clever disguises - i.e. well-meaning friends, college applications, money issues. So I'm going to request that you just take all those little costumes with you and leave me be for awhile.

Say hi to your mom for me.

Love, Tina

Review #52 - Lucky You (2006)

Netflix says: "Eric Bana (Troy) stars as a gifted young poker player working to beat his personal demons and win the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas. In the process, he connects with a struggling musician (Drew Barrymore) and his obstinate father (Robert Duvall). A bevy of real-life poker aces, including Daniel Negreanu, Doyle Brunson, Marsha Waggoner and Jennifer Harman, co-star in this drama from Academy Award-winning director Curtis Hanson."

Since he's not mentioned, RDJR plays Eric Bana's friend, who's running a 900-number operation in Vegas. He had, oh, 3 minutes of screen time.

I envision this conversation:

RDJR: "Good morning, Mr. Agent. I'm 2 months behind on my car loan. Get me a job."

AGENT: "I can get you 3 minutes on screen with Eric Bana and you don't have to kiss him."

RDJR: "Sold."

I can find no other possible reason for Our Hero to take such a minor role.

Anyway, if you are interested in a Vegas trip but haven't made it out there yet, watch this movie first...because it turns out, dearest reader, that Las Vegas is a really boring place. Eric Bana is a professional gambler who's always broke. Drew Barrymore (my bff in an alternate universe) is a bar singer who can't sing. Robert Duvall is a really bad dad. For 2 hours, they hang out in rather trashy casinos and exchange meaningful, intense stares. Seriously. I couldn't find anything about this film that I really hated, but it was truly dull. Las Vegas = mayo on white bread. Who knew.

So, either skip the Vegas trip or watch Ocean's 11, one of the coolest flicks ever. It might psyche you up again for that Vegas trip. Otherwise, go to Disneyland.

I give this one a 5.

Review #51 - Two Girls and a Guy (1998)

Okay, here it is. "Writer and director James Toback (Black and White) explores a contemporary love triangle in this comedy/drama. When two girls (Heather Graham and Natasha Gregson Wagner) find themselves waiting outside an apartment building, they come to realize they're there to meet the same guy (Robert Downey Jr.)--who's been sleeping with them both! Armed with this knowledge, the girls break into the guy's apartment and prepare for the ambush."

This is a poop-encrusted, maggot-dropping stray dog. The acting was abysmal. The plot made me want to gouge my eyes out and curl up in a fetal position.

There is not enough money in the world to convince me to watch the "commentary."

I have sacrificed 90 minutes and a few million brain cells for you, dearest reader. Save yourselves, I will continue to hold Toback down until you are all in the clear.

This movie gets a big..fat..round...ZERO.

PETA Enthusiasts - Do Not Read.

The time has come to fortify myself yet again...for in my mailbox, today arrived...

Toback.

If you haven't had the, uh, PLEASURE of meeting James Toback via his body of work, please see the reviews for Black & White and The Pick-Up Artist.

Now- indulge my illustration, please.

Seven years ago, when I got married, I had a stray mutt named Claude. Claude hated being my dog almost as much as I hated being his master, but he was a stray and I took him in - so what was I to do? Just toss him back out into the street and "accidentally" back over him with my car? Never did that cross my mind.

Anyway, while my beloved and I were honeymooning, Claude spent his days out in the fenced yard. My kids would take the bus home, feed and water Claude, and then spend the night at their dad's. It was April, so both days and nights were well within the comfort zone. So far, so good.

At the close of the week, we came back home to find Claude's entire rear-end caked in poop. Upon closer examination, I had the distinct pleasure of discovering that not only was Claude packing around his own feces, but a substantial number of maggots as well. I, as the family matriarch, was faced with the dubious task of removing both from Claude.

I'm not sure if I possess the words to describe the way I felt as I stared down at that smelly, heave-inducing, maggot-leaching stray dog that I never really liked in the first place. All I can say is, upon realizing the contents of the Netflix envelope in my mailbox today, said emotion came rushing back at me as if riding on a wave of nausea - possessing all the power and force as would be produced by the unfettering of the Columbia River, or perhaps by Ms. Wal-Mart in a tankini riding Purple Haze at the waterpark. My knees actually went weak.

So here I sit with Toback. I don't have the energy today. Maybe tomorrow. Or Wednesday.

PS - After a few additional months of domestic bliss, Claude eventually hit the road again. I saw him once; he saw my car and ran in the other direction. Really.

Review #50 - Back to School (1986)

Pause with me for a moment, dearest reader - 5 1/2 months into The Project, we are at #50. I don't think I've ever done any one thing 50 times in my entire life. Okay, I know what your mind automatically went to, and you should be ashamed of yourself. What would your mother think?

You see, science has transformed me into a dedicated, focused Woman of Valor who will stop at nothing until she has viewed...them...all.

Even this one with Rodney Dangerfield.

So, let's do it. Cue Netflix: "This wacky comedy stars Rodney Dangerfield as self-made millionaire Thornton Melon, who decides to get a better education and enrolls at son Jason's college. While Jason (Keith Gordon) struggles just to fit in with his snobbish fellow students, Thornton struggles to gain his son's respect - giving way to hilarious antics. Sally Kellerman co-stars as an English professor who encourages father and son to stick out their first year despite the odds."

You know what I loved about this movie? It was made in 1986. Okay, Oingo Boingo was in it. Hello. Keith "I thought I'd have a career after I starred in Christine, but I guess not" Gordon was in it. And, of course, Our Hero was in it, with his pre-capped cute little gap between his teeth.

Rodney Dangerfield was a dirtball, and guess what. In this movie - he was a dirtball. No big stretch.

However, I must confess - I did not want to gouge my eyes out, as I had anticipated I certainly would by minute 23. It had some cute little parts, if you pretend like you haven't already heard those Dangerfield zingers 50 thousand times. ("Hey, don't knock my wife. She gives good headache.")

I realized that I didn't see this movie when it was released back in 1986. In a Back to the Future-type moment, I guarantee you that if I had, my life would have been forever altered; because I would have fallen head over heels for Our Hero. He had whacked-out hair and dressed like Paul Revere and the Raiders. I was so totally into that in the 80's, I would have written him a letter proposing marriage on the spot, as soon as my braces came off and I could get to California.

But, alas, I didn't see the film. I didn't write the letter. Instead I watched Miami Vice. And look at me now...a rip in the time-space continuum and now I'm in the armpit of Washington instead of the pearl of California. Bummer, dude.

A number...a number. Well, I didn't want to hang myself during the credits, but it was still pretty pointless. I'll go with a 5.

And Now a Word from Our Soldier...

So, after 94 angst-filled days of non-contact, I finally received an e-mail from my son in Bagdad. His excuse - nothing's going on, it's boring, nothing to say, so why write???

Write because your momma is gonna come after you with a big stick if you don't...assuming she doesn't end up in the asylum first. Write because I miss you. Write because we are both lonely.

Now I feel like I'm leaning more toward normal. My marriage is dead, but my son is back in the picture and work is going well. I'm figuring that 2 out of 3 areas is pretty good. If I were a ballplayer, I'd be the greatest there ever was with that kind of average.

Now I'm dealing with graduation. My third child graduates from high school this Saturday. We are awaiting the verdict on her student loans...and then, in just 3 short months, she's off to Denver.

No, dearest reader, I'm not sure how I feel about that. This is my third one to go...although my second didn't go far, as she still lives at home. But she's always at work, I never see her - so, mostly, she's gone. That leaves me and The Soloist here at the homestead, which isn't really a homestead, because it belongs to my husband, who could put me out whenever he wants.

Sigh.

And for the record - I still stand by my previous statement that things are still leaning toward normal.