Two years ago, I got 14 out of 24. Last year, I got 19 out of 24. Basic math would guarantee that every year I do five Oscar predictions better, so this year I’ll get 24 out of 24! BUT THEN look forward to 2015 when I get a record-setting 29 out of 24 categories correct and I win the Nobel Prize.
Premise: “OK, let’s do a crappy Gladiator-esk knock off for the first hour… Wait, scratch that… Let’s just flat-out copy Gladiator scene for scene, but again, crappier; and then for the last thirty minutes, let’s add a volcano. Here’s $100 million to play with, Paul W.S. Anderson.” -Some stupid movie producer.
I live in what you could call a heavily Indian populated area of suburban Chicago, and our local movie theaters are nice enough to cater to that. At any given time, there’s two or three screens devoted to Indian films. Now, I consider myself someone who watches a *lot* of movies, and I’m a little ashamed to admit that one genre that I’ve never even attempted to sit through is Bollywood, which is one of the largest producers of film in the world. I’ve always planned on going to one of these movies for years, and finally, I followed through this weekend. The result was… “Uhhhhhh… Whoa…”
Premise: In a reboot no one really asked for, a young police officer (played the guy from The Killing) gets blown up in his driveway over some petty bickering with some stereotypically crooked cops, and he gets rebuilt… into… JOHNNY-5. I mean… ROBOCOP. Now, with the help of a possibly evil corporation that still does a lot of great work providing artificial limbs to wounded veterans, he gets put on the streets of Detroit to show the world that robots should be our true overlords, and we need to line the pockets of Michael Keaton’s corporate sport coat with million dollar bills. And even though Detroit isn’t the post-apocalyptic wasteland of mutants and colorful bike gangs we all wished it to be… he still, ya know… cleans up a good amount crime or whatever. But what about his family? WON’T SOMEBODY PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN? Well, he must battle his doughy insides with the shiny metal exterior that’s holding them in, to regain his own humanity, or else his kid may never get to experience what it would be like to play catch with a robot dad who could now probably throw the baseball 215 MPH at his face.
I’ll keep this short, because 80% of what makes The Lego Movie good is not knowing what will come next, or who will show up next.
And once again, I find myself at a crossroads. Did I just watch a movie that’s so brilliant that my brain simply couldn’t put it together properly, or did I just watch a living crayon drawing by a lunatic who thinks the moon is about to crash into the Earth?
I think I experienced Frozen in the best way possible at the theaters; almost three months after it came out, on a Tuesday at 10 pm. In other words, there were no annoying kids there. In fact, there was nobody else there. I think I’m of the age (29) and appearance (slobbenly and with beard) that no one would understand why I was watching this children’s film, so I’m glad no one was there to judge.