Bolt... -ed to my seat

Faster than a speeding greyhound, more powerful than a pit bull, it's Bolt! Yes, Bolt, pooch from a Hollywood sound stage here to entertain you, even if he doesn't know it.

Such is the premise of Disney's newest serving of animated films under the watchful eye of producer John Lasseter. Though, don't let the pedigree of Lasseter overshadow the presence of the directors Byron Howard and Chris Williams (who shares writing chores with Dan Fogelman), who I'm sure had a hand in this charmer out of Disney's Animation House.

Much like its titular character, Bolt is a charming creature with big eyes. While many other critics have clocked it for being fairly unoriginal in terms of plot, I can say that never mattered to me during my viewing. I was too charmed by the characters involved, doing an animal version of a dog with a Quixote complex of comedic proportions to mind the well-trod ground the movie guided me through.

I'm a bit of a sucker for good characters, so if your story is rudimentary, I'll give you a pass as the people involved (or animals as the case may be) move me through a familiar territory with familiar story beats with their shining, engaging personalities as the guide.

Indeed, everyone in Bolt shines in their own archetypal ways. John Travolta portrays the worldly ignorant, but heroically capable Bolt with wide-eyed determination and thanks to the animation, similarly wide-eyed cuteness. Behind him is Susan Essman layering a complex cat companion who gets some of the snappiest lines in the movie. Then there's Mark Walton's nine-hundred-mile-an-hour hamster: Rhino, who is a film unto himself (though whether it's this one or a fanatic documentary is not for me to judge).

But wait! The people are interesting too! Miley Cyrus playing her usual girl next door in Penny nails it and the warble in the back of her throat hardly needs the slick hands of the animators to bring across in the sadness she carries when worrying for her lost dog Bolt. James Lipton as the director bolsters and bravado's his way through his scenes and after him are a sea of skilled voice actors and prepared animated people holding the Bolt world securely bolted down.

The only thing that removed me was the agent character, who was a little too cliche in his adoration of Penny and her prospects as a big, big star. A shame as Greg Germann was putting so much oil in that role, I swear the guys in the sound studio slipped on their way out. Though to give him credit, next to some of Rhino's almost wetted pants screams of excitement, he held a couple of clever lines (I won't be surprised to hear people going "Let's take a pin and put this conversation here" because of him).

Such names and performances were only underscored by the warm and cuddly animation provided. Not quite on the round and bouncy level of Pixar's cg world, Bolt has a pedigree of its own in terms of design letting just enough action in to keep you moving forward.

The action was probably the most surprising joy of the film: well-crafted, executed with a Spielbergian eye to explosions, halfway through the in-joke laden bit of Bolt: The Television Show I found myself wishing this was a real action show (congrats, Lasseter, you have one vote for the idea). While no Incredibles, Bolt possesses enough action chops of real and TV variety to roll with the best Bond or Bat-flick.

Unlike those mentioned though, Bolt I predict taking up a favored place on my DVD shelf in the future. While I may have to be in the mood for Bond, James Bond and even Dark Knight requires a certain mindset, Bolt has just the right presence to be an anytime movie. Bad day, good day, something to have in the background or film to focus on, I can see people watching Bolt any time and at any moment.

Fringed Concept

It's the return you've been waiting for after the hiatus you never knew you wanted!

To bring me back to the fray, I'll be picking at Fringe this week.

For those of you just as amazed as I was that J.J. Abrams is occupying another slot of prime time television in his bid for network supremacy, this show seems a bit of a turnaround from Abrams's usual tact of LOST-style writing. It does keep with his style of mystery and thrills long left in place thanks to Alias, but along for the ride this time is one wacky dose of mad scientist.

The quick and the dirty is that FBI Agent Olivia Dunham (no relation to ventriloquist Jeff) has been dragged into a series of bizarre cases thanks to the events of a rather human gooifying plane disaster. Teamed with Mad Scientist, Walter Bishop, and his crazy-to-sane translator son, Peter Bishop, Olivia wanders into the "Fringe" of science (see what they did there?) to close these strange cases and help make more sense of the ominous "Pattern."

Hailed as the next X-Files of networks, Fringe definitely doesn't shaft on the mad science and WEIRD department. Airborne bio-weapons melt skin, clone babies run around eating brains, hapless victims of experimentation develop psychic connections- all good, wacky sci-fi fun. The writers obviously aren't hurting for new ways to treat the world as one big science fair project.

Also to its credit, the series has some solid moments in its mad scientist (Dr. Bishop excitedly proclaims at one point, "Let's makes some LSD!" ), and Joshua Jackson as Peter Bishop is a treat to watch (one-part smart-aleck, one-part messed-up childhood all parts played with charm and mystery), but the formulaic feel of the show drags it down horribly.

With the exception of Joshua Jackson and John Noble as Dr. Bishop, none of the other actors seem to be bringing much emotion to the fore, so locked are they on the plot, script and other writing that reads like J.J. Abrams's how-to write a show playbook. One tough FBI female loses love interest in weird way, goes to weird for answers, has help from plucky sidekicks, gets deeper into weird, weird becomes conspiracy, so on and so forth. We've been here Abrams- you're going to have to do better than that.

The formula isn't even that offensive as Abrams has proved he can dole out a plot, but when all the actors don't shine, the best formula is gonna feel formulaic.

Then there's the floating location designation. Those are a mixed bag of entertainment as every time they appear, I'm overwhelmed to yell at the screen, "Will somebody get those letters out of here? We're making a sci-fi show!" Apparently, the crew and writers felt they had to one-up X-Files's typeset updates.

All my griping aside, I do take away a little literature joy from this series. With its 19th century style mad science and premise of facing the dark armed only with a lunatic who's come and gone from it, I'm reminded of the works of H.P. Lovecraft put to a new period. You may think me mad, but c'mon! Substitute "The Pattern" for "Cthulu/Dark Gods," substitute Harvard for Miskatonic U and throw in a theme where it's logic against madness and madness already has a head start and Fringe is positively smacking with Lovecraftian airs.

Such overtones mixed with those noted moments brought about by the Bishop family gives me hope for Fringe. Until the rest of the cast catches up though, I'm not going to clamor across Bat Boy to watch this, but I'll catch the re-runs with Bigfoot.

Got Smart?

Due to the economy's stranglehold on the everyman in this time of economic duress, Hopefully Entertained has been forced to cut back on operation costs. In time, the management will rebound and continue to bring you more timely reviews, but for now, please enjoy the dated, though still-topical articles. If you desire more timely dissection's of films, books and comics, I recommend e-mailing me and we can discuss donations. Oooh, won't that be fun.

Pandering aside, cash is strapped here, so I'll spend the next few weeks going over films, books and whatnot of past because on the internet it's not the when, it's the fact that you're talking at all.

First up is a film I caught just before moving the homebase of Hopefully Entertained: Get Smart. Fortunately or not, I actually grew up a bit on this show thanks to the efforts of cable staple Nick at Nite. Don Adams and Barbara Feldon were enjoyable presences in my household at tender ages, so I went in with just a hint more bar for the movie to pass muster. Granted, I also gave it a lien since I also remembered the failed relaunch that added Andy Dick to the cast, so it all probably evened out in the end.

Catching your eye first off is that this is no Cold War spoof/rehash. Moving with the times, the film updates everyone and everything in attitude, style and presentation. Gone is the tripping-over-my-shoes nasal amusement of Don Adams's Max Smart, and here is Steve Carrell who is competent until he overcompetents and does something just as bad as Adams's take on the character. Such an update really shows the tone of the movie, blending a fair degree of action and comedy that made me think it was more an action comedy than satirical send-up of olde.

While a manuever such as this may alienate some fans, I was comforted to a degree. Trying to retread gold has not been Hollywood's strong suit, so this approach of a real world spy organization that's just a bit goofy really worked for me. What really worked though were the subtle and not-so-subtle homages that cropped up throughout the film, delivered with style and panache by a slick script and clever leading cast.

Would you believe they snuck that old gag in? Would you believe they made an attempt? Would you believe I'd be doing this gag if I hadn't seen it a thousand times? Well, there you have it then.

If you're a fan of the old show, the new movie comes across as a young whippersnapper who saw Mom and Dad's spy show and wanted to do something similar while showing Mom and Dad that they really dug the original, and it works.

Steve Carrell is his own Max Smart that is charming in a bumbling way, but not in Don Adams's bumbling way. Anne Hathaway kicks ass just as efficiently and with the same wink that Barbara Feldon brought to Agent 99. The biggest treat though was Alan Arkin's grizzled I-can-still-fight war vet Chief over Ed Platt's half-in-the-field, I'm-too-old-for-this exasperation. His line to a smarmy, youthful security guard after slamming the youth with an impressive right hook- "What's that sonny? I'm an old man, you're gonna have to speak up!" had me rolling.

Such charms are good for the old crowd that still carries around a shoe phone in our cellular days, but does such homage hold up to kids who've never heard of this sixties malarky? I like to think so. The added jokes and parallels are just easter eggs for us old fogies, like when Stan Lee makes one of his many Marvel Movie walk-ons: they never really detract from the plot and it hurts no one to throw them in there.

Maybe this version of Get Smart is trying to spin too many plates at once with a wink to the old fans, promising arms open to new and still maintaining a story and characters throughout, but it never feels that way. I was laughing at most of the jokes and enjoying the ride as it played out quite cleverly- a notion that seems lost on the comedies of today with their blatant parody and over-the-top gross-out humor. Such goofiness has it's place, and this film has its share, but I've always enjoyed clever wordplay and satirical wit and that's still the strength of this side splitting film.

Would you believe it?

Pineapple Parcel Post

Perhaps I'm jut naive, but I really would have liked to see an actual pineapple in this movie. I know that Pineapple Express is just the name for the titular marijuana that gets the protagonists into the mess they're in, and whose nomenclature is explained in halting attempts by now-professional stoner actor James Franco, but some wild part of me hoped for some random fruit in this flick. Alas, not much fruit appeared and I had to make do with an exploded raspberry smoothie/slushie.

Granted, we all knew we were in for a different ride than straight comedy by the trailer's own admission. A continuation of the eerily real-life comedy style of Superbad, Judd Apatow has Seth Rogen and James Franco as pothead Dale and dealer Saul, respectively, on the run from bad guys, in what plays out like a stoner comedy wandered into an action movie and went with it because there was a bowl of Chee-tos on the far side of the set.

I know I was lured at the possibility of this being the first stoner caper film to date. While I was let down in this category as much as the pineapples, I didn't walk away completely empty-handed.

James Franco was a true delight throughout, no longer shackled by second-fiddle status in the Spider-man franchise, and exercises his bizarre mix of cute but not-quite-cute-enough looks to terrific results. As the easy-going, easy-thinking Saul, Franco makes a pot dealer everyone in college met at one time or another. Saul is your buddy, non-threatening and only a threat when provoked, which he is quick to apologize for later, you can't help but feel you stepped over this guy when visiting at a friend's house, looking back to make sure, that yep, that's a bong and, yep, he just took a hit. It's the kind of realistic, rich character Apatow's crew brought to fame in Superbad.

The other treat of the movie were those characters. Whatever gift the crew on Superbad had for characterization, they were sure to bring it to this movie in full force. Not a person walked on screen, not a line delivered by an extra, not a scene was shot that didn't make you wonder what the story was to persons x, y, and z. Everyone walks on fully formed and ready for action, never a plot device or contrivance in sight, for they're all products of a sharp, character-driven script.

The flip side to this is when you have so many interesting characters and you have so much interesting story, you run the real risk of either a) overloading the audience or b) overloading the movie. Since I don't see this as the kind of film to attract Rhodes Scholars, I'm gong to hand over "b" as the harsh element to what otherwise could have been a smooth hit.

As said before, Pineapple Express runs like a stoner comedy that wandered into an action flick, but it also dives into clever character development, then turns sideways to hit on old movie references most of the younger audience is probably going to miss. Playing at so many games at once, you can't help but feel like you're watching a vaudeville lady who's got one really good act and is starting to incorporate other potential acts while still trying to maintain her original show.

She's enough of a professional that she never lets it slide that she's going beyond her abilities for the time, but you can't help but shake the feeling that if she'd just stuck with the original show and only added the one or two spinning plates rather than three dozen then everyone would be happier overall.

Such ambition should not be discouraged and I applaud Apatow and his crew of misfits for trying to buck the genre a little and see what they could get out of something usually reserved for the paranoid giggles and red-eyed guffaws. Maybe next go round when they mix and match what they want to make, they'll just stick with the two new spinning plates.

The Dark Nut

By now, it's no mystery of the success of The Dark Knight. Praises are being sung across internet and reality print alike with a few grumbling voices whose greatest gripe appears to be "it wasn't that great," followed by a smile of "but still really cool." A truly brilliant collaboration of talent that put me in the theater three times thanks to varying friends' opportunities.

With this movie, there is much to find entertaining. From the story, to the philosophical struggles, to the actors' performances, you can work all the way down to the craft services table and find ways to talk about how great it was (tell Joey, the caterer, "good sandwiches;" he likes that). I took a handful of joys though, and at three times viewing, I figured I'd offer my top three.

#3- Photography

This is where I show my nerd cred and do some old Film Arts professors proud. The actual look of the film was really engrossing. From start to finish, you felt, like its predecessor, that this film happened in the here and now and displayed at its most real. Every dip of the camera, every subtle pull-in of frame let you see the harsh world that the characters lived in without crossing into over-the-top territory. Halfway into the world of The Dark Knight, I had to mentally slap myself to remember this was a comic movie and not a modern day crime caper. Turning off the sound and just pausing may take you out of the film, but it'll give you some gorgeous screenshots for a wallpaper desktop.

#2- Jim Gordon

One of the great supporting characters of the Batman universe who often was reduced to an almost bumbling role of police commissioner really got to shine in this film. Between the story laid out for the character and Gary Oldman's strengths as an actor, Gordon adds to an already bursting ensemble cast of characters, providing depth and a human face to the realities of the world. You see a conflicted idealist, striving to protect his city, his family, but making deals along the way to make it all work. Some of them pay off, some don't. With as much screen and story time as Gordon received, I'm surprised he didn't have a promotional poster of his own, staring balefully out at as a human stuck in a world gone to Batman and Joker.

#1- Joker's "Where Are My Keys?"

As movie myth has it, Heath Ledger, in preparing for his final role, locked himself in a hotel for weeks trying to build the lunacy of the Joker from head to toe with conviction. From voice, to look, to body language, he made Joker vibrate with pure insanity. What I saw as the most clever twist he put on this insanity was that body language. How he shuffled, glancing about casually and not quite fully concerned with the here and now, Joker almost seemed to always be going, "Where are my keys?" It wasn't an occasional event when Ledger made this happen, this was the character's default state of being. From killing so many people to just casually chatting, he constantly projected a body language based around the search for his car keys. Watch for it and wonder if you look that sane when you've lost the remote.

These were just a few of my discoveries upon staring up at The Dark Knight so many times. I'm sure with even more viewings I'll be reporting on the lighting design, the sound quality and yes, even craft services (remember Joey, he makes a mean sammich).

Hellboy II: The Shiny Cartoon

Since his triumphant hit Pan's Labyrinth, Guillermo Del Toro seems to have been taken off the chain that held him back from leaping at making the fantastical commonplace in our world. Though you can argue with a list like Mimic, Hellboy and Blade II, all big monster movies with shiny effects and growling visceral creatures clearly on-screen, that this chain was released long ago, they pale in comparison to the visual feast that was Hellboy II: The Golden Army.

Grim faeries with jagged teeth pop from corners, greasy and old goblins lurch along the background and the whole time you feel like you're seeing the world through Del Toro's gleeful fantastico-world vision. The details, the colors, the vibrating life, most done without straight computer effects and only aided here and there by them, this rubber monster world is a waking dream that makes bathroom trips a problem because you're worried you'll miss something really cool looking. Contrarily, that detail and visual heft does not extend to the plot of the film.

Having seen that a simple plot with clever characterization can push his films along just as well as the darkly intricate ones as shown in Pan, Del Toro doesn't load the story too heavy like the previous Hellboy, which was practically bursting with all the activity. Here, it's streamlined and fast. Very fast, in fact; almost cartoonishly so.

In fact, next to the dominating visual aesthetic Del Toro commands, I couldn't help but notice this film was practically screaming along in comparison to his previous works. It was bouncy and light and well... Fun.

Wow. There's something I'd never think to say about Hellboy or a Del Toro movie- just fun.

Whereas the first Hellboy was a labor of love, courting the fans and demonstrating how much Del Toro cares for his rubber monster world, this one is an understanding that we all know what's going on so let's enjoy it this time, eh? And this pays off quite well, letting a warm, red and amber light filter through what was once a red and black set.

You get chuckling romance out of the geeky Abe Sapien, you get sitcom-esque relationship difficulties with Hellboy and fire fatale Liz Sherman, you get lots of monster fighting and explosions, then Seth MacFarlane, famous for the voices of Family Guy, shows up as Johann Krauss to let Hellboy fire off some good ol' boy anti-German cracks. Then there's the drunken bonding of Abe and Hellboy, which is a series of scenes worthy of their own sitcom. Couple such goofiness with a balance of dark and twisted creatures, well-timed moments of touching emotion and a sweeping dreamlike vision and you've got a film that's a steady fun ride.

Normally, I pick around for the one scene that sold me or the actor that made it all worthwhile, but Hellboy II: The Golden Army won me over in broad strokes for just being a live-action PG-13 cartoon. It was good fun, some clever one-liners and just a jazzy feel over all. You never get quite hefted down into its doom and gloom and never kept light enough in interest that it becomes boring.

It was like a prophet was whispering into Del Toro's ear and told him how huge this summer was going to be and so he opted not to blow us away, provoke us or leave a mark of DIRECTOR, but to keep us happy. With most of the blockbusters these past few months prompting huge reactions and sweeping gestures, Hellboy's sequel is the good-enough burger and beer we all may not remember, but always come back to: watching, re-watching and re-watching comfortably and enjoying it all the while.

un-WANTED

So while many geeks streamed to Wall-E and many others went to WANTED, I've a job that lets me tackle both at the same time, though I saw Wall-E twice before going to WANTED.

Which says so much right there.

Wall-E is a given. Go see it, you're hearing the buzz, it is love and PIXAR poops magical animation fairies that keep them from making bad movies.

WANTED is a different machine. Very different. Almost completely unrelated to its source material different.

This is not a new habit in Hollywood as those of us who open those crazy book things and attend theater are well aware. Don't think this is my offensive against the average movie goers the world over because I'm an artsy intelligista- no really, don't think this, you'll probably sprain yourself- understand that this is how Art sometimes works. You see her work over there and think, oh what a sweet Art thing, I bet I can put my own spin on it, and you ask her if you can and she's like- okay, this sounds cool and soon everyone's looking at something that vaguely resembles the Art that originally stood before. Sometimes this works out and sometimes everyone is left wondering where their underwear went.

I digress into a point though.

Like many comic book-based films before it, WANTED deals with a fair amount of translation, especially since the original story had lots of in-jokes and ribbing of supervillains and the comics community that most people just wouldn't get unless you've been in the barracks with the rest of us nerdy losers screaming for dear life when an arc went Clone Saga on our asses. This is understandable and desirable. I like Change. Change means I can get something new and cool and in WANTED, there stood the potential for that. Unfortunately, that potential went tits-up halfway into the flick and I was left standing around wondering where my underwear went.

It wasn't a total bust though as James McAvoy has shown he can be an action god and make Neo look like a slow learner in the bullet-time class of action. In fact, he's one of the shining happy points of the movie, and since he's the main character even when the script, plot and supporting characters bail on him for parts unknown it's like having a healthy portion of a boat still taking you back home to port after a storm took the crew, some oars, most of the sail, the parrot and your love of the sea.

Seriously though, he's charming, believable, cut like a young 300 extra and really brings his role to life. Even when he's essentially following this crazy line of logic through the doodly lines of the plot, you still buy into McAvoy's performance. He did the same thing to me in Narnia where I was mildly bored with everything till he showed up as Mr. Tumnus and projected this quirk of joy and magic in his character that really kept the movie aloft for me. He's like Holly Hunter, who apparently can make even a bad script sound perfect. It's a shame these kinds of movies don't win Oscars because in the hands of a lesser actor, this thing would've just been a phoned-in action adaptation of a comic book. So let's all watch James McAvoy and think, "Gee, he's awesome. I want him to be the next Spider-man when Tobey Maguire falls off his ego."

Another high point that kept me going when the Loom of Fate showed up and looked really cool, but was not really connected to anybody's drive or actions or... Well, anything, was the music. Hoo-ray for Danny Elfman. Trent Reznor licks, hard guitars mixed with elegiac violins, and well-timed blasts of crescendo totally had me banging my head in the theater. I am actually inspired, in our techno-babble-times to actually go out and buy the CD to this thing.

The last bit that caught my eye before I gave up hoping Morgan Freeman and Angelina Jolie (the two heavyweight names who were hired to sneak the mass audience into a comic book movie) will do something interesting with their characters to make me give a shat was a lingering suspicion that one of the training guys looked familiar. And Repairman totally was! Like McAvoy, who was imported from across the pond for this film, Marc Warren is an English chap who's done some cool work. You can see him creeping you the hell out in Hogfather as Mr. Teatime and rocking out as Elton Pope in the "Love and Monsters" episode of Doctor Who. Such a shame he fell into this trick of a flick.

I felt tricked I guess. "Curve the bullet," "Kill one, save a thousand," big name actors and Mr. Tumnus showing his bad-ass side. It all sounded so good, but then when presented, it made me feel like I was watching a rough Assassin's Creed fanfiction that took place in the 20th century. Guess I'll have to keep an eye out for random Textile Factories to be sure.

Changing Tracks

Okay.

I tried to be nice. I really did. I gave three whole posts about what's good in cinema because there are things in cinema to be happy about. Just as there are good things in literature, music, games, the whole of entertainment to be happy about, but it feels forced. I feel a sham and irresponsible to my (potential) reading public.

So, I'm taking a break for a day or two to figure out what the hell direction I'm going (not a serious break mind you, this is a blog, not the fucking TIME). I still am Hopefully Entertained, but I will nitpick and make points and sweeping generalizations.

Like for Indiana Jones latest escapade, it doesn't need to be said, but you gotta say it- ALIENS. Holy shit, ALIENS. And not the kind that mow your lawn for two bucks under minimum wage.

And Sex and the City I never saw all the way through. I just saw bits and pieces over a period of several weeks and have thus assembled an opinion from spare change and my favorite bit? The actress with the best faces shits her pants! Basic humor folks. The rest of the movie is good, if confusing- I'm not a big fan of shoes, dresses and fashion "names." Do I look fucking awesome in this? Yes. Does it cost much? No. By the craziness surrounding me, we have a winner!

That's about the problem I had with it which is why I never watched the show in the first place. It was like talking down to you if you weren't in New York and wearing Prada's latest explosion of "taste." I'm sorry, but a stitched bag is a stitched bag and it doesn't matter if it was made by a French douchebag who sits front row at a show where pissy men and women strut up and down a running board in clothes I'd wear to a circus. As a performer.

As for Indy? Just old. He's farty, the crew that made him initially is farty, just let him age gracefully and hand off the torch to the eunich Shyuh LeBuff (seriously, did you see the amount of testicular torture he endured? Insanity).

It's like lately all the baby boomers are making a last go at being cool and bad-ass. We are their children and suddenly we're their friends and they can surf with us, or fight the Commies with us, or whatever they want. Sixty is the new thirty. What? I thought sixty was when you took up writing in a blog and complaining about these damn kids and their rap music.

I apparently didn't get the memo.

Not that I should talk. I'm sure when I roll well past over the hill, I'll be making bids for my once nubile, non-saggy self and be doing things someone my age shouldn't. It's part of the human experience, right?

I just hope I'll have the strength of will to be doing it in dignity like such big names as (and required butt-kissing goes here) Terry Pratchett and George Carlin, to whom this post is dedicated and if you can't tell by the tone, inspired.

So, as my track hops for the eighth time, I wind down and decide that the next post should be as honest because I want to be entertained and I will always find something that struck my fancy, but I shouldn't hide the gallons of crap I had to sift through to get the nugget of gold. Where's the fun in that?

Sex and The City and I'm not getting Either

Let's first let it be known that I haven't seen much, if any, of the show. I've been aware of it like many other people out there, but never really had the chance to get into it or just plain get into it in general.

Fortunately, like most tv-to-movie cinema, this film makes room for the just-wandered-in with a little up-front explanation. A lot of up front explanation. You really didn't need to see the show to watch this film, which, I know I'll lose some geek cred for saying so, I enjoyed.

I know most of my enjoyment stemmed from its romanticized unromantic leanings and the fact it was a bunch of girls sitting around talking about sex (gee, how is this similar to my life?), but in particular it was the performance of Kristin Davis as Charlotte York.

Watching Sex in the City meant watching her steal the show any time she was on screen. Her face was this nimble portrayal unmasking all her emotions in the funniest of ways. It was like watching a real-life caricature of how to act. She'd mug just enough to take it above the rest of her gliding co-stars and keep it just below cartoony so that it seemed credible. Seeing Davis pull some of the faces made me want to just sit her down for ten minutes and play random clips to see how she'd react as this character.

Her triumph is the scene where Charlotte, after achieving levels of OCD I thought only possible of Adrian Monk when it came to avoiding the water and cuisine of Mexico, swallows a little of the South of the Border. This in turn aggravates her South of Border and after an internal struggle she expresses through every pore, she shits herself. Quite gloriously.

Maybe it's because I've been close to that point myself (mall trip when I was a teenager and Taco Bell was catching up when I couldn't locate a loo), but every little dance she did with her face made me giggle like mad up till that last point of explosion. Then I exploded. In a more enjoyable way. With laughter, people.

Proof that what my dad says is true- "Nothing beats a well-timed fart joke." And Kristin Davis's faces.

Indiana Jones and the only scene I want on my DVD

Though I'm probably a bit tardy here, what with the one of the big summer movies getting ready to leave theaters, such a cinematic event couldn't escape my attention as I'm just an up and coming blogger.

Suffice to say, the latest installment in Indiana Jones's adventures met mixed reviews. Seriously mixed reviews. Cocktails made by a bi-polar transsexual couldn't mix more than these reviews. That said, among my peers, there was an overwhelming sense of disappointment. Why they cried, why foul Indy so?

And yeah, the movie was not so much godawful so much as it was just... Lacking. Like it showed up and just said, "Yeah, I'm Indy and here's my hat and blah, blah, blah. Where's the booze?"

We here at Hopefully Entertained prefer not to dwell on the fact that grandpa has passed out in a stupor, mumbling about the "good ol' days" while attempting to sleep-fondle himself, but on the highlight(s) that made this movie watchable.

Namely, one scene. The motorcycle chase sequence.

No overly fancy stuntwork, no CG, no tricks that couldn't be done by anybody with a camcorder, some vehicles past their insurance payments and some willing idiots/friends.

You can tell me the rest of that movie was delivered with a personal hate letter from God directed at the movie-going public, but that motorcycle chase was AWESOME.

It started with a fight ("Hit him. In the college, hit him.") and ended with a great visual and line (Dr. Jones on motorcycle with James Dean, er, Mutt exiting building as he's saying- "If you wanna be a good archaeologist, you gotta get out of the library!"). I can quote that scene verbatim thanks to my job at a theater- and I like to because it's so cool.

That kind of scene was what made Indy so awesome twenty years ago and the fact that it survived the prarie dogs, ants and Evil Russians means there's still a little shine on the old dog's gunbelt in my mind. At least till the medication wears off.

I Like It!

I do. I really like it. Whatever it may be.

Despite what critics will tell you, there are nuggets in the entertainment world worth looking at. Granted, some of them may be small, underfed, only good for one rental or possibly exist in another country, but they're out there. If you're paying attention.

So this is the blog that does just that: it pays attention and looks for the fun bits. I plan on reviewing, commenting and laughing all the way to the grave here. Because there are plenty of people kicking the tires and pointing out how the AC makes a funny noise, so why not have a friend who's sitting in the seat discussing the orgasmic effect of the leather on her butt and how the color reminds her of that cool scene from the last Batman movie?

I've been laughing most of my life because I find this place so entertaining, and now's the time to get everyone laughing with me.