Cheese and Krakens

By the above picture, you can deduce that I'm referring to the movie, Clash of the Titans, which I just recently saw for the first time. Frankly, it's cheesy, through and through, seemed like it had a poor editing effort, and maybe even too small of a budget for the subject matter at hand. Essentially, it bit off more than it could chew. The film did, however, have some redeeming qualities, and I can definitively say that the mythology behind it all is generally pretty cool, for lack of a better term. My overall thoughts on the movie are as follows...

• I wish the producers took an even more grandiose approach. Yes, at first glance, this may seem like a GARGANTUAN project as is, and it actually is ($125 million budget) due to its solid cast, its special effects, and its artistic developments, BUT with that said, it probably could've used a Lord of the Rings approach. Dare I say that there is definitely enough material here for a trilogy? Dare I say that they could've also thrown some more money at this project? I'd say the effects were mediocre at best; Clash of the Titans could've certainly used a boost in this department. And how about a team of writers to expand the movie into a true blockbuster? A little more cash here could've helped exponentially at the box office. And I'm not an idiot; a trilogy is a heck of an undertaking, and no one could legitimately expect LoTR returns at the box office, yet the movie was only 1 hour 40 minutes long and some "key" characters were killed off, while the audience was left without any affection for them at all. It could've used some more meat on its bones, so to speak. At least give the audience a 2 1/2 hour event. I mean, it was supposed to be epic, wasn't it? Well, I didn't necessarily feel that way throughout, and that problem falls on the producers and trickles down to the director. Period.


• The mythology is AWESOME. We see some great storylines here: the need for the Gods to feel the love of the human they created, the ever-present feud between Zeus and Hades, the demi-god Perseus and his quest to avenge his family's death, the people of Argos defying the Gods, the fellowship between the warriors of Argos, Perseus, and the Djinns, and the battles against various mythological creatures, including giant scorpions and namely, the Kraken. There is some serious material here, and it goes largely underutilized. That's not to say someone like me couldn't get excited when seeing a giant scorpion, a Djinn made of wood, or a goddamn Kraken. That was all enthralling but I was still left wanting more.


• Let's talk Kraken. First of all, the only other time I had seen a Kraken on film was in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (which has some noteworthy mythology as well; that's a whole other bag of chips, however), and I have to admit, I was a little disappointed in their depiction of the Kraken. I guess it was a little more classic - more sea-monster-esque, more Jules Verne, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, more tentacle than brute force and muscle - version of the Kraken. I got NONE of that sentiment when I saw this Kraken. My initial impression was that this was quite possibly the coolest movie monster ever on film. And I can stand by that statement to this day. YET, once again, Clash of the Titans came up short in its usage of the Kraken. I needed this thing to come out of the water and be ready to inflict some pain. I mean, it had fists the size of elementary schools for Christ's sake. It could've been doing some work on some dudes. And like I said, it merely flashed itself on screen, and before we knew it, it was turned to stone by Medusa's gaze. The two problems were obvious: it needed more screentime, and it needed to be more lethal. That's what I need in a Kraken.

So, I wouldn't say it was a complete waste of time, but Clash of the Titans fell short in many ways. I hope someone with some balls gets a hold of the rights to it in 20 years and puts a real epic together. I just recently watched Kung Fu Panda for the first time, and I'd even consider that more epic. And that's how I'll end this post: Jack Black as a panda: Thumbs up, Underutilized Kraken: Thumbs Down.

So You Feel Like Death?

Yeah, I've read 'em all...every blogpost or Yahoo! article about curing hangovers...every Men's Health piece about preventing them...every mad scientist's recipe panacea for beer shits and puking up that yellow stomach fluid that I lovingly refer to as "the egg yolk." Well, guess what: I'm here to tell you that they're all wrong. This post isn't one of pretty hopes and dreams, and bells and wind chimes, and unicorns and reindeer. No, no. This isn't the post that's going to tell you to blend some fruity-tutti, rainbow-colored elixir to cure it all. And this certainly isn't the post that's going to preach science and tell you to get your immune system up and working by replenishing the vitamins and minerals you lost during your awesome night out with the guys, picking up hos and feeling different. No, no...this is coming from a man that's seen the worst of it. I've tackled the daunting 2-day hangover, I've puked and rallied countless times, pissed myself dozens of times, and I've seen half my room torn to shit from an incoherence that only Tequila can vouch for. I'd say in the 8 years I've been drinking, I've probably vomited on at least a thousand occasions. And I'm living to talk about it. Because hangovers are my specialty. With that said, let me throw a couple of truths your way, so when you're hitting the Miller Lite Vortices and the bottles like I do on a Friday, you can be better prepared to make it a full weekend of partying instead of sitting in on Saturday night and watching Land of the Lost with your 12 year-old, possibly-gay little brother, who likes Gossip Girl a liiiiiiittle too much. Needless to say, you needn't be reading this if you're a "casual drinker" who enjoys a beer with his dinner and a nice chapter of Chicken Soup for the Soul before tucking himself in bed. This is for the true partyers, those of us who know 2 a.m. is too early for the bars to close and who know all too well that color of the sky before the sun decides to poke its head on Saturday morning. Here goes:

• First and foremost, GET YOUR MINDSET RIGHT: Listen, odds are you're going to be hungover. You went out last night and you need to expect some consequences to doing Patron body-shots at that place you can't quite seem to remember with that girl who may or may not have been a 4 out of 10. Hey, if you wake up feeling like a million, more power to you, but you need to realize that this is an anomaly and doesn't quite happen often. So, get it through your head that headaches, bodyaches, a few scrapes and bruises, and some serious nausea are to come. No big deal, right? If you know and respect what's waiting for you on the flip side, you're more apt to attack it successfully.



• WAKE UP: Sure, we all need sleep. We all need our bodies to recoup, right? Well, I'm just saying once you get your 6-8 hours, get out of bed. Don't overdo the sleep. Don't feel sorry for yourself. You have a new day to take by the horns, and you don't need to be wasting it in limbo. We all know the Food Network is soothing when you're hungover, but Giada De Laurentiis' meals aren't popping through the screen anytime soon, and basking in your own stench and sorrow isn't going to get you ready for round 2 this weekend. So, get your ass up, open the shades to let the light in, and B-line straight for the bathroom because this is where some of your most crucial work will be done this morning/early afternoon.



• SIT DOWN ON THE TOILET: I'm serious, gentlemen. Take a shit. Take a mean one. Purge that system. Out with the bad, in with the good. And poop is bad in my book. And listen, even if you don't need to drop one, sit down anyway. You'll certainly be able to squeeze out a piss. I know, I know. Guys aren't supposed to be sitting down to piss. Well, screw off, retarded meathead. These are dire times, and no one needs to be aiming at this hour or in this condition. Not to mention, that trek from your bedroom to the bathroom was long and tiring. You probably fell once or twice, maybe stubbed your toe or cracked your knee, so take a load off.



• TAKE A COLD SHOWER: Get naked and get in, folks. The perks of being in the shower at this time are aplenty: First, it'll surely wake you up fully. It should give you the shock that you need to really get moving. Second, it'll bring that body temperature down. No one likes to be nauseated AND warm; it worsens the sensation tenfold. So, chillax for a bit and let the water do its work. Third, it gives you an opportunity to assess the damage: like I said..cuts, scrapes bruises...these should all come to light in the shower. So, take inventory of your injuries, if any, and go from there. If a bone's popping out, I'd suggest the hospital. If you're just a bit sore, grow a pair. And lastly, the shower gives you a solid opportunity to purge from the opposite end. Yep, I said it. Vomit already! It's not as big of a deal as most make it out to be. And at this point, you wouldn't be blowing chunks; it'd be spit and bile, and maybe, the aforementioned egg yolk if you're lucky. It'll be fine in the shower and wash right down the drain. Get the crap out like you did on the toilet and clear the system for the goods that are going to pull you from this nightmare. And this leads me to the next bullet...



• EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT, EAT: Eat whatever you can get your hands on and eat some more. Leftover buffalo chicken calzone? Eat it. Bananas in the fruit bowl? Eat 'em. Pizza rolls? Throw 'em in the oven and eat a bagel or two while you wait for the oven to do its thing. Seriously, the sloppier the food, the better. If you don't want to head to your own kitchen because your parents are down there, eat out. Grab some BK or McDonald's and go to town. Do work on a few double cheeseburgers and some fries. Wash it down with an uncarbonated beverage. No milk though. This is the first of the fuel that'll keep you going all night long again. So, be sure to get a solid foundation of grease, fat, and starch, and before you know it, that first beer of the day won't be sounding so bad.

And there you have it: your sure fire way to dig yourself from the trenches. You'll be right as rain by mid-afternoon and be on the horn with friends, trying to coerce them into hitting the town for a pregame dinner and drinks at 7. That first beer'll go down like water with dinner, and you and your buddies'll be back and better than ever at your favorite bar, doing shots with mediocre looking women. Then, that Sunday rolls around, and you've got some football to watch. And we all know football tastes best with beer. It's the vicious cycle, people. Get used to it.

Brett Fart and All of His Stank Stank

So, a couple of days ago, Brett Favre finally made his "momentous" drive to the Minnesota Vikings' facility, subsequently telling the world that he "would like to play for the Vikings this season" as if he really needs to coax them into bringing him back. ESPN was sure to follow his SUV in their helicopter the entire way and was sure to continue the dreary commentary throughout the late afternoon and on into the evening, with no regard for other newsworthy stories or for the viewers, who, in large part, cannot stand the soap opera that both ESPN and chiefly, Brett Fart, have created. And this brings me to my argument today. I was emailed that day by a good friend and fellow sports enthusiast, and here's what it said:

The media (ESPN being the main culprit) is the biggest joke! Everybody knew Favre was waiting for camp to end to make sure his ankle was okay and then he would show up, just like last year. They have stories about him retiring, constantly trying to make stories out of nothing. Now he's on his way to MN and there's a boatload of reporters on the ground waiting there. They are the ones that make this a big deal, NOT BRETT FAVRE!

And I couldn't disagree more. My responses:

Does that make Brett Favre's actions acceptable, though? It IS big news because he's so ridiculously pompous and because he continues to alienate his teammates and the organizations he works for, each offseason. It's big news because he doesn't seem to think it is a big deal when it certainly is. So, yeah espn exploits the story probably more than they should (they do with everything, i.e. Lebron, Tiger), but they wouldn't do so if it wasn't largely affecting the balance of the NFL and the integrity of the game. Favre used to be one of my favorite players b/c he always left it on the field, and now (while he still has the heart) he's revealed himself as a self-centered prick w/ no care for his team, his coaches (evidenced by his blatant disregard for Brad Childress), or for the NFL, the conglomerate that gave him the riches he accrued over his career and continues to do so to this date. So, while ESPN is certainly one of the culprits in this debacle/farce, BRETT FAVRE is undoubtedly the biggest.

By the way, if this was someone with less football prowess, with less influence on the game, on the conference, and on the league, this coverage wouldn't be going down. And that's my point. It IS news b/c he decides to toy with the league and his org. Can you imagine if this was someone like Sammy Morris or even someone a little more legit, like a Chad Johnson or an Anquan Boldin, doing this? No one would give a damn. Sure, it might get some coverage, but the fact that he's a stud veteran QB on a juggernaut of a team in the NFC, the fact that he's probably worth an extra 4 or 5 wins for this team, and the fact that he thinks his actions are ok, make this a noteworthy story. And as an aside, kudos to Green Bay for dropping this grade-A prick. Look at them now: Rodgers is a stud and they'll be a perennial contender with one of the most prolific offenses in the league. Good for them.

Lastly, It's ridiculous that everyone around Favre is expected to act with class, i.e. Tavaris Jackson, Brad Childress, the front office etc., while Favre lacks the most class in this situation. If I was A-Pete or one of the leaders on the defensive side of the ball, I would've called him out a long time ago. He gets this free, golden pass each year with EVERYTHING he does on and off the field, and it's ridiculous. I'm sorry if I'm a little over-enthusiastic about this issue, but he really was one of my favorite players, and I've witnessed him turn into something disgusting, something pathetic.

And there you have it, folks. Yes, Brett Fart is a great player, but Brett Fart is also a prima-donna, he's egotistical, classless, disrespectful, deceitful, and frankly full of shit. His conceit is only matched by LeBron and his Hulk Hogan-esque introduction to Miami, or maybe Tiger and his whorescapades. And it is this that makes him so dislikeable nowadays. Sorry, Fart, you've managed to alienate your teammates, your management, and most importantly, your fans. And newsflash: the Vikings fans don't even like you; they just want their team to win. I guess I'll probably go home and burn my Brett Fart football card collection tonight.

Quick-Hitters - Inception, Jonny Double, and More...

Alright, so this post is meant to give you quick reviews and glimpses into some of the shit I've seen and done recently. Here goes: i saw Inception opening weekend in IMAX with some friends and absolutely loved it. I know some critics bashed it from the get-go for various reasons, including lack of coherence, inability to live up to the hype, weak concepts, and let's face it, Ellen Paige (OK, well maybe the critics didn't bash her, but I'm just not that big of a fan of emotionless 12 year old boys. Oh wait, she's a woman, and she's 23!). Just kidding. I think Ellen did a fine job in her role as the dreamworld-creating newbie and was even endearing at times. Anyhow, in regards to the critics' gripes, I couldn't disagree more. I thought it lived up to the hype and then some. The scenery was mind-blowing and majestic at times, and the stellar concepts are exactly what drove this movie to greatness, especially in IMAX. As for the coherence: it certainly deserves more than one viewing (don't all of Nolan's movies?), but I understood it just fine. It's certainly no Little Mermaid in regards to storyline. YOU HAVE TO PAY ATTENTION. What a novel idea. As for the acting, Leo and Ken stole the show for me. Joseph Gordon Levitt and little-known, Tom Hardy had stellar performances as well. Inception also caught flak for not being entirely original or seemingly stealing ideas from other mediums. And the bottom line here is: no one has ever taken those ideas and applied them in this manner. And certainly not on the big screen. So, I say: Haters, stop hating. Go back to your basement and masturbate to your most recent issue of GamePro or something. Overall, this concept-driven movie is easily an 8 or 9 out of ten.

Next on the slate is Jonny Double, a short trade paperback written and drawn by the same guys who so aptly created the world of 100 Bullets, Azzarello and Risso. Jonny Double was a character created over 4 decades ago, and has many of the same noir-ish themes that 100 Bullets does. Azzarello resurrected the character and threw him into a new scenario and Risso provided the backdrop. Once again, I loved their work. It's seamless. This new story for Jonny places him with a new group of criminals, who have an intriguing idea for a heist. The problem is, they bite off more than they can chew. Did they steal from the wrong mobster? Is it one of their own that begins picking them off? Can you ever trust the sexy woman? Some of these questions are the epitome of noir pieces, and Jonny Double is just that, true to form, with all of its grittiness and subtext. The four installments are collected in one volume for quick reading. I'd recommend anything that Azzarello and Risso touch, and this TP is no different.

Lastly, I'd like to throw in a random fact of the day: Aldous Huxley did a whole hell of a lot of drugs.

And there you have it, folks. Happy reading to all!

The Festo - A Cache with 100 Untraceable Bullets and Legal Imuunity? No Big Deal......And Other Stories

So, I recently finished the acclaimed graphic novel series entitled, 100 Bullets, written by Brain Azzarello and illustrated by Eduardo Risso, and if I may say so, it was brilliant, start to finish, with gritty, realistic writing from Azzarello and in-your-face, harrowing art from Risso.

The story is based on a single premise: you've been terribly wronged in your life, and you don't quite know why, yet a man comes to you with a briefcase in hand and years of anguish marked on his face in wrinkles and sobriety. He tells you that he knows why your life has gone to shit. He tells you that in his briefcase is proof. He tells you that one person is responsible for your hardship. And in that briefcase is a handgun and 100 bullets that are entirely untraceable. So, do you take his briefcase, exact your revenge, and attempt to rebuild your life? Or do you deny the opportunity, live with the knowledge for the rest of your life, and rebuild honorably, thinking karma may be a major player?

These are some of the major themes of 100 Bullets, yet as you read, we are shown how deep this world truly goes, with backstabbing, drugs, murder, and mayhem as its cornerstones. We are introduced to a war between families that reaches back centuries and tells us our suited man and briefcase may not be as noble as initially represented. And we see players on both sides of the war, with differing motives, styles, and most notably, temperaments.

I'd recommend this read for anyone who'd be interested in a true-to-form crime drama, built on the foundations of stellar characterization. The graphic novels are sold in 13 installations, although the original series was released as 100 individual comics. I'd say go get yourself one of the graphic novel collections first (it doesn't have to be the first edition; I myself read the 7th installation first and found it even more intriguing because I only knew a small piece of the puzzle). Anyway, certainly go grab yourself a copy, dive in, and be prepared for a nonstop ride full of bloodshed, innuendo, and intrigue and two-timers, gangsters, and suits, all with a stake in the game and the trigger finger to exact their agenda.

Otherwise, I've started on the graphic novel series, The Sandman, by Neil Gaiman, which is another critically acclaimed story with some seriously dark undertones. Other recommended reading at this point would be anything from Charles Bukowski, Hunter S. Thompson, and Bret Easton Ellis. In fact, I'm looking forward to reading Ellis' recent release and sequel to Less Than Zero, Imperial Bedrooms. Happy reading to all!

The Festo - A Year and a Half and Other Stories

Hell, it's been a long while since my last post (approximately 1 year, 6 months, and 14 days), and let me tell you, I've done some shit. I've seen some shit, man. I've killed babies. Well, not exactly. I'm not returning from Vietnam or anything, although in the time I've neglected this page, I have been living life, and that's enough experience for me. I returned from my Air Force training in August of 09, picked up a full-time job in the corporate world while doing the reservist thing, and have been getting shitty while wasting my money on women and booze in the subsequent 11 months. What more could a little boy want in life? Maybe some bitches from a rap video ('cause who doesn't like bitches from a rap video), a sponsorship from Miller Lite (I have literally spent tens of thousands of dollars on you, Miller Lite, and I think it's time I reaped some benefits; I'm practically a shareholder), and the next great novel. Yes, these three things would be nice, and I'm fairly certain that if I pray hard enough to baby Jesus, I'll get them. Anyway, that's been the life since the hiatus, love it or hate it, take it or leave it. The bottom line is: I'm probably getting more pussy than you, so if you want to think about my escapades when you masturbate, I'm not going to hold it against you.

Now that I'm done telling you about how cool I am, or wish I was, we can get on to the next few things on the agenda, first being my scrapping of a couple sections of The MannyFesto. I'm tossing Dispatched, the Skinny Post, and any other garbage idea that may have passed for a headliner before out of the window, off my property, off my damn street, and out of the damn country, like an illegal immigrant with a rap sheet. Sorry, Pedro, but you like to rape little girls, get drunk, AND crash your 93 Miata into American taxpayers, killing them in the process? And we want to hold you here for a fair trial? No dice, compadre, get your ass back to El Salvador and suck on some corn on the cob or some shit. And that's what I think of the segments Dispatched and The Skinny Post; they can get out of town and catch a train, or I'll be waiting with my super-sweet Easton metal tee-ball bat that I keep behind my door in case some rowdy bitch has something to say at 4 in the morning. Nevertheless, I'm leaving The Festo and The Popcorn Editorial on the table because that's what God has chosen for me, and when I say God, I mean that ham sandwich I ate for lunch that somehow reminded me to come revamp the Festo and get on that keyboard grind again.

Lastly, I'd like to point out a little something that I've taken the pleasure of endorsing: National Novel Writing Month, abbreviated NaNoWriMo. It's a rather substantial community of writers that has been convening for 11 years now and growing in the process, and each November, they challenge anyone and everyone to write 50,000 words (175-page novel) in 1 month. You're allowed to brainstorm as much as you'd like, but writing any part of the novel is expressly forbidden before November 1st. I, myself, am entirely intrigued by this gathering and will be participating this November for their 12th year. I'd urge anyone with an itch to write, even if you had an idea for a story at just one time in your life, to join the fun. Certainly, check out the website, nanowrimo.org, for more info and to browse the forums, which are teeming with hilarious material. So, until next time, this is me signing off. I'll see you when we catch eyes as I'm railing your mother.

The POP-ED - Good Night M. Night: Criticisms of a Real Nincompoop

Here's an idea for a movie: this guy lives in an apartment in Philadelphia. He walks the dark streets of the city and seems to contemplate life all to much while looking at himself in the mirror or at his reflection in a puddle. He's a single father, who's still in love with his ex-wife, even after she ran off with their family friend and took their daughter out west after the custody battle. One day, while watching TV and contemplating his life even more, he notices some weird occurrences on the Pacific Coast. Apparently, an army of giant cockroaches have built a catacomb system under San Francisco and were planning an attack. Some homeless guy was unknowingly walking over their underground homes when the ground caved in to reveal the huge bugs. Many of them got away from the barrage the SFPD sent their way. Our protagonist thought it was a bit strange, but went to bed and didn't lose sleep over it. Upon waking up the next morning, he felt different. He felt like he knew his purpose in the world. He would go to San Fran and win his ex-wife and daughter back, while saving them from cockroach annihilation. He flies out there and finds them, scared and surprisingly glad to see him. He tells them to hide in a basement. He goes to the chief cockroach and barters with him for the lives of the humans. For some reason, they oblige him. Before they shake hands, he winks at the big bug. They touch hands, and he collapses. A midget-sized alien is pooped out of his butt. He is anointed the king of the new cockroach army. He takes his ex-wife's hand and anoints her queen. They go on to rule Earth and a galactic empire.

Congrats to me!!! I just wrote M. Night Shyamalan's newest movie!!! Give me $5 Million, Hollywood!!!

We've all seen the elfish looking, douche-bag Hollywood director, who somehow is still in the business after The Sixth Sense. This guy makes absolute crap, people, and he's as conceited as all hell. How does no one notice it? Okay, maybe I'm wrong. Some people do notice it, but Jesus, does this man need the boot off of the big screen, or what?

Every time he releases a movie, it's billed as the next big mind-blower or the next freakishly creepy film. Newsflash: they never are!!!! Granted, as previously stated, The Sixth Sense was solid. It was his first legitimate Hollywood movie, and I'm disregarding the crap he made before (Wide Awake, for example), which stunk to the gates of Hades. Everything after the Haley Joel Osmond breakout performance, however, has been rotten, stinky feces thrown onto the screen and called a movie, yet for some odd reason, this guy is heralded by so many as brilliant, young and hip. Every year, it seems as though his movies are winning the Razzie. Every year, it seems as though he releases the worst movie or biggest disappointment ever. Let's take a look at the line-up of poo since the Sixth Sense.

Unbreakable: Here's a slow-moving, unbelievable tale about a would-be superhero (Bruce Willis) who discovers his powers and learns about his enemies. I guess in this day of superhero blockbusters, the movie has a decent idea, but all I can remember from it is the deathly slow pace and the complete lack of action. I mean, I haven't heard of too many superhero flicks where they talk their differences out diplomatically in the final scene. I really remember this movie just being boring. Unfortunately, all in all, it's probably the best of the worst.

Signs: Probably his most hyped movie ever, Signs tells the tale of aliens coming to Earth after creating crop circles. But these aliens, although smart enough to travel through vast regions of space, don't have weapons, only a green, arm-fart gas that seeps from their wrists. OoOoOoOhhhh. Scared yet? It was billed as amazingly terrifying work by the impish director, but ended up being frustratingly delicate in every sense of the word. Mel Gibson wanted to weep the entire movie, and his children were downright annoying. Went into the theatre looking for a scare and walked out laughing.

The Village: Another over-hyped movie (get the pattern here) that didn't come close to satisfying moviegoers. This one was supposed to be terrifying and grotesque, just like Signs, but was laughable once again. This time, we were supposed to be afraid of the "scary beings" in the woods. Turns out, it's just a guy in a suit, who was hired by the town's elders to spook the people into complacency. And then, we get thrown into a love story that no one really cared about. In the end, the village in question was stuck living in the 1700s while the rest of the world marched forward into the 21st century. Stupid idea. Not scary. Not moving. Not entertaining. Not fun.

Lady in the Water: Maybe M. Night's movie previews always look creepy because he chooses the most albino-looking chicks ever to play his roles. This movie was hyped amply once again with weird, semi-scary previews. And then, I watched it. In the theaters, no less. Wasted a good twenty bucks on two tickets for this crap. I feel bad for Paul Giamatti, who's a respected actor, but just made a terrible choice with this one. I kid you not when I say that the movie gives everything away before it happens. To a T. We're supposed to be afraid a a pack of mystical wolves in this one but we already know what is supposed to happen to them. And we can't even experience the suspense of the buildup because they tell us how the story goes mid-way through the damn movie. It won four razzies, including Worst Picture. In the end, Lady Should've Drowned in the Water.

The Happening: Here's the latest Razzie-winning excuse of a movie by Legolas. It gives us a cheap flashback to the sci-fi of old, with a family of three running from a green toxin in the air. The movie largely misses on the big screen. Kirk Honeycutt of the Hollywood Reporter put it perfectly when he said it seemed "more like an episode of the Twilight Zone." And many questions seem to go unanswered about the biological threat. Once again, the film was over-hyped, marketed as a horror flick, and failed to entertain or make logical sense at any point. One word: boooooooooo!

This is Shyamalan's legacy. It's tarnished with the stench of the corpses of at least five or six Hollywood films. Someone please stop this man. He's killing the industry. And if he really thinks his next project, Avatar: The Last Airbender, will be a success, he truly has gone off the deep end. After such a stirring movie in The Sixth Sense, M. Night's fall has been long and hard. R.I.P. any decent ideas in Shyamalan's mind, for they have been on a different train for quite some time now and don't appear as though they want to return.

Anyway, I thought that idea with cockroaches and butt-aliens wasn't too bad at all. At least to M. Night's standards. Any takers? Disney? Miramax?