I, Robot vs. Spider-Man 2
I, Robot didn't just whomp Spider-Man 2 at the box office this weekend, it also beat it out in my overall opinion of the two.
REASON #26 WHY I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO THE CHRONICLES OF RIDDICK
"I absolutely believe in God... and I absolutely hate the fucker." --Richard B. Riddick, Pitch Black
On Saturday, I lost my glasses on Nitro (the roller coaster at Great Adventure), a fitting epilogue to the tough lesson that was Friday's watershed louder than words show. I had low expectations for the Friday slot to begin with, but twenty-one paid in the audience - the majority of whom were supportive friends/co-workers from outside of the poetry scene and much of the extended Acentos family - was even worse than I'd expected. Glaringly absent were many of the usual suspects from the scene, or as one person put it, those most likely to be on the receiving end…
Between my internet connection at work being screwy all day and Blogspot.com seemingly on the blink, the post I started writing earlier was lost. It was about the difference between Batman and Superman and a comment director Wolfgang Petersen made about it. Petersen was apparently attached to a Batman vs. Superman movie that was scrapped in favor of separate movies. Can't say I'm disappointed. Petersen's also the director of the new movie, Troy, with Brad Pitt lamely delivering one of the corniest lines ever: "Immortality! It's yours. Take it!" No thanks, Brad. Between Gladiator and Return of the King, I…
a home abandoned long enough returns to its base components walls, windows, doors, floors and ceilings the sum becomes considerably less than its parts old books lean listlessly on shelves next to faded pictures of places long-forgotten, friends no longer familiar a film of dust covers them all the last mix tape from years ago hides at the bottom of the box at the back of the shelf in the closet never opened the dust on the doorknob is proof of its neglect we are more likely to pick at scabs than encourage healed wounds to remember the sting of…
Barbershop 2: Reconciling desire & familiarity, ideals & expectations
There's only been a handful of "black" movies that have struck me as having that certain something at their core that expressed a sincere love for the people it presented, warts and all, and this is one of them. The first Barbershop, Waiting to Exhale, Boyz N the Hood and Rosewood are some of the others that come to mind. There's an emotional honesty to each of them that transcends the archetypes they employ to tell their stories. Of course, that's all debatable but, in this instance, it's not the point.
As a kid, I was a big fan of GI Joe. I vaguely remember in the 70s having a couple of the big 12" dolls and the jeep. I think at least one of them even had "real" facial hair. In the 80s, I really got into them when the 3-3/4" action figures came out - Snake Eyes, Grunt, Scarlet, Stalker and Cobra Commander, who you could only get via a mail-in promotion. We shoplifted a bunch of them from the old Caldor's in Pelham every time we went, hiding them in our socks with the cardboard backing that had…