Everything is in 3-D, but the films are usually made with little regard for that process, so for two hours, you get an expensive headache staring at flat-looking insects cracking jokes several yards away. … You can DVR your favorite TV shows and fast-forward past the commercials or pay money for a movie, where you’re stuck sitting through 15 minutes of them. … At least at press screenings, you’re safe, right? Wrong! At one they had for a kiddie pic, they prefaced the main event with a Justin Bieber video! In 3-D!
All my favorite movies of the ’70s and ’80s are being ritualistically remade and destroyed, one by one. … The billboard for the Ryan Reynolds comedy The Change-Up stayed hanging in Times Square for months after the movie’s instant demise. It might still be there for all I know. Change it up! … The Twilight cast keeps trying to make other movies. … When TCM starts showing Brat Pack films, I’ll kill myself. … Thanks to documentaries, I no longer trust food, our government, the economy, and documentaries. … Scorsese did a kiddie movie! Who’s next? David Fincher?
I lose the Oscar pool every year because of those stupid Documentary Short Subject categories, which no one gives a shit about until it’s ballot time. … The Best Song category needs to be changed to “Best Song Out of These Five We Managed to Dredge Up, Including the Obligatory Three by Randy Newman” (though this year, it was “Out of These Two … Since Randy Was Busy”). … Every year, we get one lesbian movie, and every year, one of the lesbians sleeps with a man. (“But it wasn’t about sex!” she explains. “I just felt unloved or happen to be promiscuous” blah blah). … We have as many Hollywood films with a full-fledged, happy, sexual gay character as we did in the 1960s—none! (Yes, there was a happy gay in Beginners, but it was an indie. And he died!)
Every straight (or closeted) comic still feels the easiest way to score a laugh is by doing bad drag. … Sometimes I’m actually laughing. … Johnny Depp is so aggressively bizarre in every role that it’s starting to look normal to me. To really shock, he needs to play something ordinary, like an American tourist visiting Italy to … no, never mind. … Ever since the Oscars, I’ve been walking around in that Angelina Jolie come-hither stance and catching flies with my crotch.
You finally see a movie without Jessica Chastain, Emma Stone, or Michael Fassbender in it, and you hate yourself for thinking, “God, they’re lazy!” … It was alienating enough to order movies from Netflix and watch them alone, but now that you’re the only one still using that service, it’s really existential. … From what I hear, the fifth Fast and the Furious didn’t make any less sense if you hadn’t seen the fourth one. … NYC’s art houses are either too far uptown or too far downtown, so you end up going to a crappy sequel near your apartment. … Everyone said, “Don’t worry, Moneyball isn’t really about baseball,” but it turned out it was. … The first 20 minutes of Puss in Boots were pure genius, but then Humpty Dumpty came along.
Just when you thought Hollywood couldn’t get any more lowbrow than the upcoming Three Stooges movie, they added the Jersey Shore folks to the cast! … Won an award at Cannes? That generally spells “Avoid!” … Movie reviews are strictly embargoed until the film’s opening, but meanwhile, the trailer has been gleefully giving away all the plot secrets and best lines for months. … Films that have played festivals are OK to review, so by time they get distributed here, we know about every overhyped frame and can only be gravely disappointed. … Upcoming films will feature Batman, Spider-Man, James Bond, the man from U.N.C.L.E., and the Star Trek gang. Movies have advanced so much from my youth. … When you revisit a movie that you absolutely adored as a kid, it never seems anywhere near as good as you thought it was. You start wondering if you were slipped hallucinogenic drugs all throughout your preadolescence.
Apparently, you pay Scientology, and they help your career big time. But in the old days, the studios closeted you for free! … I’d rather read an old Pauline Kael review of a movie than watch the actual movie. … The film biz should pick one day out of the calendar year and declare it “No Fart Jokes or Car Crashes Day.” … And how about “No Pretentious, Scenery-Chewing Oscar-Grubbing Month” (and let’s make it December)? … Every important film from an auteur bloats in at exactly two hours and 20 minutes. One second less would obviously be a creative abortion. … Today’s stars should never do historical epics. Chin implants and pillow lips look funny in the Middle Ages. … Opening credits have become ridiculous. “Dingdong Films, under the auspices of Crapola Productions, in association with FilMagic, Cinema Paradise, and Rutgers University, along with Kazilloscope Matters Inc., and Hempstead Futons, Presents an Ashton Kutcher Joint …”
I always seem to get seated in front of a seat banger, and it’s hard to rationalize, “Well, at least they woke me up” when the movie’s so bad you’re better off unconscious. … Every Joe Schmo on the crosstown bus reads the box office reports religiously and can spout shit like, “That franchise film came in under par, but still, it was the third highest debut ever for a Thanksgiving weekend rom-com with an interracial cast.” … Everything that even makes two cents gets a sequel or a series. Even The Lincoln Lawyer! … But worst of all: This column probably won’t be turned into a movie! In 3-D! Waah!