“I didn’t know that the new hipster uniform is THE LAMEST T-SHIRT YOU CAN POSSIBLY FIND! You know, it’s a little bear in a pot of honey going “˜JESUS WUVS ME THIS MUCH”¦’ Because it’s your way of going “˜My coolness OBVIOUSLY DEFEATS this douchiness! LOOK at me! I’m AMAZING!'” — Patton Oswalt

One thing that truly mystified me while watching the trailers of the Lorne Michaels-produced Andy Samberg vehicle Hot Rod is why the GREAT AND ALL POWERFUL Ian McShane of Deadwood and Lovejoy opted to be in a movie that looked about as funny as your grandpa’s punctured colostomy bag. I found out about five minutes in because Frank (McShane) gets in a fight with his stepson Rod (Samberg) and whips the piss out of him.

Now I don’t know about you”¦ But if I were ever in a situation where they LET backhand the smug little bitch-smirk off of Andy Samberg’s face (even in a rigged and harmless movie fight), you wouldn’t even have to pay me. I’d show up on set early every day with an ear-to-ear grin like I was being blown by Heidi Klum.

Samberg, or “The thing that’s been killing SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE for the past two years,” got his start at the Lonely Island comedy troupe, where he made marginally funny Internet shorts. He got TV and movie deals and a lot of people like him because, apparently, low standards are funny in and of themselves. You can always tell a sketch on SNL is written by Samberg or one of his Lonely Island teammates because they are random, try too hard, and are unfunny because of both.

Now Samberg, co-star Jorma Taccone, and director Akiva Schaffer have infected my neighborhood multiplex with Hot Rod, which”¦ is completely random, tries too hard, and is unfunny because of both. Some compare Hot Rod to Napoleon Dynamite, but I wouldn’t. I dislike Samberg, but not THAT much. Sure Hot Rod is condescending to its main character, but everyone else is let off the hook. Napoleon Dynamite hated everyone in it and hated YOU for watching it. Hot Rod is just dull. Napoleon Dynamite is actually excruciating.

There are certain things one is unable to speak of, provided one is a geek, without getting personal. Star Wars is one of two for me. The Simpsons is the other”¦

I question authority figures, huge groups, organized religion, fast food or any politician. I don’t trust any group dynamic that says “if we stay together everything will be alright,” don’t believe in the sanctity of the American family and I LOATHE children.

Where do you think I GOT all this from? The show that took on God, the government, the home, pop culture, society at large, the network that showed it and even its own fans. Were I not introduced to The Simpsons at such a tender age, I might be well-adjusted and normal, but not as smart nor nearly as fulfilled. It’s been on TV almost as long as I’ve been alive. For some of you, it may have taken up this last half of your existences. And for more of you still, you may have never lived in a world without The Simpsons. When that show goes down, it’s gonna be like FDR dying back in the forties, no matter how much you may quibble about declining quality. That damn show’s gonna leave a mighty big hole.

I say all this to say that for any Simpsons fan, judging The Simpsons Movie is almost impossible to do on its own merit. We aren’t going to compare it to other movies. We’re going to compare it to the show at its high point. It’s a shame that the show at its high point was the high point of humor in all the annals of television and even radio, now that I think about it.

So I must say that by Simpsons standards, The Simpsons Movie, directed by David Silverman, is”¦ Good. VERY good, even. It ain’t great and it ain’t the pinnacle of comedy Godliness that the first few seasons were, but it’s funny enough. It’s like watching a Simpsons episode now. The glory days are long behind, but it will still kung-fu your ass through a wall and have enough time left over to bend Peter Griffin all the way backwards to jam his head up his own ass.

NOTE: If you are not a member of the HARRY POTTER cult of personality, not only is it my duty to tell you that what follows will barely make a lick of sense, but it is an article of my wonderment why you even clicked on this review in the first place.

Why does such an imaginative and energetic series of books bring about a franchise of middle-of-the-road movies?

Money. When you have something set up to make gobs of cash aimed at youngsters, you can’t get too wild. Drives the grosses down. Confuses the kids and weirds out the adults. This is why the Harry Potter series of films hasn’t really been all that great, with three long and expensive sighs of indifference and one admittedly good one (Alfonso Cuaron‘s Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) that still had moments of playing like an advertisement for itself. “See the pretty colors? I bet you want the toys that go with it, huh?”

Both the book and the film Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix mark the time when author JK Rowling and the folks at Warner Brothers stopped fucking around with being cute and started taking it as seriously as the fans did. This isn’t some kind of non-threatening Goonies peril these kids are in, but rather actual dangers that result in one dying and not coming back. The genius of the books has finally caught up with the movies, wherein they actually grow with the kids reading them from year to year. Complex ideas and shades of gray are brought in. For example, I never thought a kids movie would actually tackle Stalinism before I saw THIS one.

It’s the fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and stress has finally caught up with Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe). Worn out from the constant attempts on his life by the returning Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) and besieged by bad dreams when he saw a kid die last year, Harry acts, well, like a complete ring-meat most of the time. He blows up at his friends and generally acts all taciturn and moody”¦ Or it could be because he’s fifteen and practically everyone was a tool at that age, myself included.

I would say that “all is not well at Hogwarts,” but it so very rarely is. The Ministry of Magic, combating the idea of the return of Lord Voldemort, decides to prop up Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton of Vera Drake) as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. No silly wand waving in this class, because according to the Ministry and their media pogrom of disinformation, there’s no evil threat to defend against. Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) call bullshit and get Harry to teach a few of the kids how to defend themselves in secret. And the most fun phase of being a teenager takes occurs: Rebellion.

In February, I saw a film called The Messengers and I firmly believe it’s the worst case scenario for a PG-13 rated horror film. Of that, I wrote at horroryearbook.com: “PG-13 rated horror films are like the jukeboxes at strip clubs. You might get a little ‘LaGrange’ you might get a little “˜Legs,’ you might even get a little “˜Sharp-Dressed Man.’ But at the end of the day it’s all the same damn ZZ Top.“ They’re frightened of their own shadow, wanting to be scary but not having the elbow room to do anything to be scared of.

But if a PG-13 horror movie succeeds, it succeeds very well, because it used its handicap to its advantage and tried that whole “creativity” thing we hear bandied about a lot but so very rarely see. Not only that, but if it does well in the worst of conditions, you may find yourself more impressed with it than you would many horror films that have that R rating that smug-as-fuck horror fans will tell you is mandatory.

Think about it like this: Which hunter impresses you more? The one with the camo gear, GPS, and high powered rifle with laser scope? Or the dude hiding in a tree with JUST a cheap bow and arrow?

1408, I am proud to say, is the BEST case scenario for a PG-13 horror film. It’s a well played and well made character study with a damn fine performance by John Cusack and wonderful base material by Stephen King“¦ And it is the CREEPIEST damn thing”¦

Geeks of Doom’s raucous reviewer with the rictus smile, Dr. Royce Clemens, continues his parsing of the first half of the 2007 movie season, bringing us fair warnings of what to avoid and why.

Remember that one SNL sketch where Justin Timberlake was playing Ashton Kutcher on an episode of PUNK’D? And then they punked one of the cast members done up like Fred Durst? He’s coming out the back door of a club and these two big dudes make like they’re gonna beat the crap out of him and Durst just breaks down crying and whimpering”¦

“Please don’t hurt me! I’ll”¦ I’ll touch your wiener if you just let me go!”

And then Timberlake/Kutcher came out and said “WOW! You said you were gonna touch his WIENER! He didn’t even ASK you to do it, you just OFFERED!”

That’s what Eli Roth‘s work on Hostel Part II means to me. “Sure my movie looks misogynist, but THE LADIES ARE THE HEROES THIS TIME! And I know it looks senseless and stupid violent with no redeeming qualities, but I have ONE LINE in the movie that provides political subtext! ONE LINE! DEAR GOD, DID YOU NOT HEAR THE ONE LINE!? LOVE MEEEEEEEEEE!” He spends the entire movie presenting us with horrible, goofy shit and then backpedals to look smart, expecting us to give him a cookie.

Every neighborhood has a poseur punk like Eli Roth, where he threatens to kick your ass and the time you call him on it, he runs and hides behind his Uncle Quentin. All the swagger of a man without the balls to back it up.

Norbit is less a movie, and more a gaping psychological wound for anyone dumb enough to pay for it. Kurt Vonnegut had Dresden, so it is only fair that film critics have Norbit. Through this film, I have found that Hell is not hot and fiery, but humid and damp and smells like dirty secrets should smell.

And we have Eddie Murphy to thank, whose ego is so out of control and his glory days so far behind him that he feels the need to clone himself every few years to escape nay-saying voices. The voices that say “That’s not really funny. Actually, that’s retarded and kind of obscene.” Murphy has had the death of his career tolled so many times that he must surround himself with people who think he can do no wrong”¦ namely himself.

I know I’ve said it before elsewhere, but: If Murphy opts to take up half the cast of another movie all on his lonesome, I hope to God it’s porno. So he can do what we all hope he does”¦

And he can go FUCK himself!

“Would you like a SMINT? I have to keep talking like an APPLEBEE’S waitress or else the BLOOD will stop flowing to my brain and I’ll die a SLOW, PAINFUL DEATH! Have you tried our Blazing Southwest Tomato Cilantro Wasabi Ranch JALAPENO POPPERS?”

“Okay. I’m serious. I’ll get on the train.”

“I AM the train!”

There is a five-minute stretch in Blood and Chocolate that could stand as comedy funnier that Borat in and of itself. It starts when Werewolf Rafe (Dick) is staring down Aidan (Dancy) in a Church, trying to get him to stay away from his equally Werewolfy cousin Vivien (Agnes Bruckner). The best he can muster by way of a veiled threat is: “You wouldn’t want to get buried in here”¦ As a ceiling fan, or something”¦”

Then it hits. In the prelude to their big fight, Aidan sells out his girl and Rafe comes back with the single most absurd line ever delivered in a movie I’ve seen in the past five years. You guys do know this is a horror movie, right?

Truth be told, this one exchange is the one ray of sunlight in an entire movie that plays like Silver Bullet meets My Little Pony.

Dude”¦ What the FUCK?

Is Grindhouse bad? No. But it is wildly varying. For the fifteen minutes prior to showtime, I was pacing around the theater lobby in excitement, something I haven’t done in quite a few years.

Three hours and twenty minutes later, I was left with a momentary thrill and a sore ass.

I think Death Proof is actually a classic, which truly GETS why Grindhouse movies kicked so much ass back in the sixties and seventies. They were swift, efficient entertainments made by folks who had a commitment to the job they were doing and BELIEVED in their hearts of hearts in what they were doing. The problem was, I had to wait through one middle of the road zombie movie and four hit-or-miss trailers to get there.

I was not the biggest fan of Planet Terror, Robert Rodriguez‘ ode to the zombie flick”¦ Actually, Planet Terror was less a love letter to John Carpenter and George Romero and more a love letter to shitty projection. Because that’s what he paid more attention to than his film. Granted, Tarantino had the “REEL MISSING” card and the pops and scratches too, but as the movie went on and the emotional investments started paying off he dropped it. Rodriguez made a condescending movie that got why Grindhouse movies were cheesy, but not why they were fun.

And what I had hoped would be three hours of laughs and thrills turned out to be a gimmicky vanity project with a few REALLY bright spots by two renowned directors who need a babysitter.

1. Someone gets speared.
2. Someone gets beheaded.
3. Someone falls off a cliff.
4. Someone gets shot with an arrow.

Just these four shots were played at various speeds throughout the entire middle of 300, so much so that I felt like I was being beaten about the head and shoulders with a tack hammer by LeBron James. Apparently I was the only one who noticed that JUST FOUR SHOTS doesn’t make a movie, because I had to sit through Internet yahoos typing out “THIS! IS! SPARTA!” for a month and a half because they were in shallow, geeky ecstasy.

“STOP THAT! It makes you look like a fucking nimrod!

How one-trick IS your movie when the South Park parody is better than the actual film?

“VIVA LA GARRISON!”

“I’m a director and huge comic book fan, given the biggest approved budget in Hollywood history for my second sequel to SPIDER-MAN. What will bring people into the theatre and send them out on a high note, in no way insulting people who stuck with me and the character for years?

“We do him up like Jared Leto and we MAKE HIM DANCE!”

Sure we can complain about the length of Spider-Man 3, the harassment by a love story we don’t care about anymore, and the mistreatment of Venom, but that one sequence hefted an entire franchise up in the air and threw it over the shark.

I’ve gone on at length about why I hate Hostel Part II, but I will say this”¦

That come December, when sin and virtue of an entire year are scored, I will NOT be calling Hostel Part II the worst film of 2007

I refuse to give it the satisfaction. It’ll just have to settle for acing the mid-term.

So in essence it boils down to how you would say “This is so bad, I’d wipe my ass with it.”

Yeah, well I WOULDN’T wipe my ass with Hostel Part II. It isn’t good enough for that privilege.

And no more shall be spoken of this film.