The A.V. Club
Even more obsessive pop culture coverage available at avclub.com. Posts are from Sarah, or others as noted.
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To simplify things now that there are something like seven adaptations of Dracula in the works, Sean will only be using images of Dracula Cat in his Newswire posts, which is fine, as long as he keeps writing lines like, attempting “to return the vampire to his classier Old World origins, before he began thirsting equally for blood and Paul Mitchell styling paste.”
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Tyler Perry has revealed that the next Madea movie will find Tyler Perry’s blubbery sass-banshee coming face to face with one of those awful Ponzi schemers—a face which she will then presumably slap some ever-lovin’ sense into, perhaps using a kitchen accoutrement, thus restoring a sense of dignity to those frustrated by our continued economic disparity.
Tyler Perry presents Tyler Perry’s co-option of a social movement. If Madea acknowledges your struggle, does that mean your movement has arrived, or died?
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Photo reblogged from Untitled Keith Phipps Project
I wrote a Commentary Tracks Of The Damned piece about Apollo 18, a movie I was already on record as not liking. (I used to love the They Might Be Giants album, however.)
That image really sets up a lot about Apollo 18. That, and and the fact that the movie’s big bad is a bunch sentient rocks called “moonsters.”
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Photo reblogged from Untitled Keith Phipps Project
The airbrush murals of Chicago’s River East 21 (part 3 of a continuing series) (Taken with instagram)
These truly are the great moments in cinema.
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When I saw Sucker Punch earlier this year, it struck me as the most dazzlingly masturbatory endeavor this side of a James Toback or M. Night Shyamalan film. It represented such a pure, uncompromising vision, I was sure it would inspire at the very least staunch defenders, if not a full-on army of proud cultists. I was surprised and more than a little relieved when the film was received not as a proper commercial or creative endeavor, but rather 110 minutes of Zack Snyder ejaculating his sexual fantasies onto a big screen.
-Nathan Rabin for My Year Of Flops Furtively Feminist, Mostly Misunderstood Case File #197: Sucker Punch
The deeper Nathan is offended by pop culture’s effluvium, the closer he gets to poetry.
