There's been a very clever e-card floating around the internet lately that states, "'I want to see Magic Mike for the compelling storyline,' said no woman, ever." Still, the hordes of women who have already finished the Fifty Shades of Grey books and are now looking for their next thrill will be pleased to know that aside from the copious amounts of eye candy, there is also a halfway decent plot and some solid dialogue thrown in the mix. That's nice because it makes it feel less like soft-core porn that way. Not a pizza delivery man in sight.
As someone who likes Matthew McConaughey as an actor but despises cheesy romantic comedies, I was thrilled to see him making another legal drama, his first since 1997. Not a Kate Hudson in sight! Of course, there aren't any surprises in sight, either, as this is possibly the least twisty, most straightforward legal thriller ever made. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, if all you want are the basics: a lawyer with a crisis of conscience, a client with a dark secret, and William H. Macy with a mustache. Hmm. Macy had a beard when he was in Sahara with McConaughey, and now the mustache. Does McConaughey have a "co-stars must have facial hair" clause in his contract?
Depending on how you feel about security guards, Lyme disease, Matthew McConaughey, claymation, Avatar and the French, this is either a very good week for DVDs or the worst week ever.
Effing haaaaa!!!!!!!!!!! Finally, someone's seen fit to end the reign of terror that Elizabeth Gilbert's psycho-babble best-seller Eat, Pray, Love has wrought. Think, if you will, of the distinctly female quest for peace and sanity after a heart-rending breakup Gilbert explores in her tome, and then imagine its opposite: a cuckolded dude licking his wounds by going on an international sex and booze bender, only to come out the other side changed in no way whatsoever (ok that last part was just my own assumption based on previous dealings with dudes). That pretty much sums up the parody Drink, Play, F@#K, a comedy based on the forthcoming satire of the same name by writer Andrew Gottlieb (whose credits include work on the soon-to-air IFC series Z Rock). I sooooo see McConaughey or, like Seann William Scott in the starring role, don't you?
Incidentally, the big-screen version of EPL is being developed and rumor has it Julia Roberts is attached. In spite of my pesky X chromosomes, that's one movie you couldn't pay my ass to see. Well, alright you could pay me. But it'd have to be a lot. Like at least fifty bucks and a sixer of Zima. I know, I drive a hard bargain.
Comic book movie casting news changes faster than Clark Kent in a phone booth. Just a few days ago, Michael Caine (better known as Alfred to some, and as Alfie to others) was telling MTV News that he'd heard it from a Warner Bros. executive that the studio wanted Johnny Depp as the Riddler and Philip Seymour Hoffman as the Penguin. It seemed all but confirmed that Hoffman would waddle onto the big screen as the Bat's next nemesis. When asked about it the next day, though, Hoffman himself denied the long-standing rumor, saying: "No one has talked to me about it, ever -- never." He added that he's "such a fan of those [comic book] movies," but explained that he'd rather watch them than be in them.
Wasn't Lionsgate supposed to be revamping their image to be more Universal Pictures and less Dimension Films? Isn't that why they risked a visit from the Cenobites by mutilating the release of Clive Barker's Midnight Meat Train? If so, then Lionsgate has a warped idea of what constitutes classy movies. They are currently in the process of dropping $100 million on a remake of Ah-nuld's gory 1982 showdown with a Darth Vader voice, Conan the Barbarian. The John Milius and Sandahl Bergman epic, written by Ollie Stone, was originally rewritten by the folks who did Sahara. That script was tossed, presumably because nobody would believe Matthew McConaughey was barbaric. At least not the way Conan is.
This Friday marks the release of this year's annual crappy Matthew McConaughey rom-com Ghosts of Girlfriends Past (and further proof that my favorite lady in the world Jennifer Garner is trying to kill me -- kill me! -- with her terrible film choices). Though this time the plot doesn't seem to go near a beach, a water ski or a Kate Hudson, it is still the same crappy McConaughey movie we get every year. You can't fool anyone by dressing it up as just another unnecessary Christmas Carol remake, McConaughey. We are onto you! Let's examine the terrible evidence.