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| So I saw The Box. Which isn't a movie about Cameron Diaz's bloody vagina, despite what the title and the big red streak on the poster would have you think. It's actually one of the better sci-fi movies i've seen in a while for 2 main reasons.
#1, the first act is the best adaptation of a Richard Matheson story i've ever seen.
#2, like (almost)all of Richard Kellys' movies, it's goddamn batshit insane and fucking awesome.
First off, the original story by Richard Matheson is fairly simple, but most are familiar with the version that was re-written for The 80's Twilight Zone. In it, the story goes: Couples door bell rings, eerie man walks in, shows them a button. Says if they press it, they get a buncha cash, but someone "whom they don't know", will die. They deliberate for a while, and press it. The man comes back the next day, gives them the cash, and they ask him what happens next. He says " The button will be re-programmed, and given to someone, "Who doesn't know you." Which is pretty chilling, and implies heavily that the person killed is the last person who pushed the button. In the original Matheson story, the woman pushes the button, and her husband dies the next day in an accident, and the insurance money is what she collects. When the man retrieves the button, he tells her that "She never really knew her husband". Which is much more insanely fucked up, but not so twilight zoney.
Anyhow, the movie takes the Twilight Zone approach, for the entire first act, with some character development, and then takes a HARD LEFT into fucking INSANEVILLE and becomes wildly hard to predict exactly what the fuck is going on, or what is actually happening. In a lot of respects, it's very similar to Southland Tales, in that shit happens, and you're left to decide what it means for yourself. Granted this is a much more coherent movie than Southland Tales, and a much tighter film overall, it's still nothing like anything out right now, and despite being an adaptation, fiercely original. Plus the whole thing is shot like an old fashioned episode of The Twilight Zone, with Kubrickian cinematography so accurate you'd swear they got the DP from The Shining.
Overall, I could lay out the entirety of the plot for you, but the moment Mr. Steward gives the couple the money, takes the box/button, and tells them it will be reprogrammed and given to "Someone who they don't know." (different phrasing, but same ominous meaning), the movie ramps up into goddamn crazyville. There's a lot of internet sites and viral marketing for the movie, including some .PDF documents you download that seem to be schematics for the Box, that are seen breifly in the movie. Like with Donnie Darko or Southland Tales, the internet supplementals help understand the movie more, and in this case, actually hint at large chunks of the movie that were filmed, but cut due to length. If you hated Donnie Darko, (which I don't blame you, all that 80's shit was bogging up a good time travel story), I highly recommend you watch Southland Tales and see The Box. Richard Kelly is an exciting new director who really is building up a lineup of films that reflect similar themes, and each one will make you think, for better or for worse. I have a feeling all of his movies will be love it or hate it films, that are very polarizing, and it's guys like that who SHOULD be making movies, and we should support that kind of filmmaking instead of the schlock thats churned out nearly every weekend by most other hacks. | | |
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Vampires
By James Woods, Daniel Baldwin, Sheryl Lee, Thomas Ian Griffith, Maximilian Schell
see related |
I never knew her name, but I decided, perhaps one day i'll ask to walk her home. She had long dark hair, with little hints of brown and blonde, her lips were pouty but not bee stung, and her eyes had a magic in them that could only be described by some amazing poet. I approached her, walking with a smile. She was thoroughly buried in the book she was reading, her hair falling down in front of her face, slightly dangling on the page. Getting closer I could begin to see that she was studying for some math class, trig it looked like. I ruminated on the thought that not only was she beautiful, but she was smart too. She adjusted the book for a moment, and stretched backwards, closing her eyes, pushing her ample breasts into the air, her fingers clasped, stretching her arms upwards. I finally was close enough to speak to her, and I then began to speak.
Of course, when I opened my mouth, I only managed to say the words "Hi, I was just wonderi-" before she jumped nearly out of her seat, shot upwards, and grabbed the mace out of her bag, and immediately began macing me in the eyes. To say the mace burned would be a massive understatement. To say it was like having your face on fire, is to barely grasp the intense feeling of pain the mace caused me. I started to scream out loud, calling her a fucking goddamn bitch, and insulted her several times, and then started making very crude and illegal threats about forcible intercourse with her. That was shen she started stomping on my genitals with what I unfortunately found out to be, were her high heeled shoes. Each stomp not only compounded the pain in my body, shooting upwards into my stomach with a deep sharp pain, but also felt as if the pointy heel was actually penetrating my groinal flesh. She continued to stomp and stomp, and spray more and more mace into my eyes, until finally she relented to call the cops.
When the cops came, I was beaten beyond the point of resisting arrest, and I remember one of the rookie officers began to vomit once he had gotten a glance at my entire groin area. After the hospital visits and receiving emergency surgery my injuries included, but were not limited to blindness in one eye, a broken nose, broken jaw, deaf in one ear, partial facial trauma, 68 scrotal stitches, a penile fracture, testicular lacerations and impalement, as well as total urethral abolishment, which I didn't know was an actual injury you could sustain. After many months of recovery, and a subsequent trial, I was found not guilty of attempted rape. It was in the 6th month of physical therapy, when she visited me.
She walked into the clinic, her eyes sparkling with that same magic, her hair blowing in the breeze, shimmering an impossibly beautiful shimmer, and her lips just as pouty and perfect as ever. She came with flowers, and approached me. I instinctively began to shrink away from her touch, but she calmly placed her hand on my face, and told me that everything would be ok.
For a moment, I thought about caning her in the face, and just brutally beating her to death right then and there, smashing her beautiful face into a mass of pulpy flesh, teeth and facebones,but when we kissed my murderous rage subsided. A year later, after my genitals had completely healed, we got married, and now we're expecting a baby. You know, its funny, sometimes life makes you take the long road, but in the end, you end up getting what you always wanted, if you just stick it through.
Although some nights I still think about stabbing the fucking bitch in the mouth, but then I just grab her tits and grunt a few times and it's all okay.
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| Apparently there was a guy there taking professional style pictures of everyone. I barely remember, because I was fucking hammered and busy staring at a lot of the cleavage. Some pretty awesome costumes there, and see if you spot my best friend Dorothy, she's the Wonder Woman that actually looks good, posing next to my other best friend Mike, who was the best Clark Kent/Superman there. I wasn't in these photos, because I literally just went to the party with what I was wearing, and a wig, and just agreed to whatever people guessed I was. Anyhow, heres the pictures! | | |
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Sometimes I wish I was a beautiful italian woman and that Ennio Morricone would spend his days serenading me to gain my love.
Sometimes I wish I was an irish priest and loved nobody but myself and alcohol.
Sometimes I wish I was a bounty hunter in the old west, living off the land, with my own moral code. Nomadic and strong.
Sometimes I wish I was an intergalactic pilot, delivering shipments of engine parts with my plucky but resourceful crew.
Sometimes I wish I was a Columbian druglord in the mid-eighties, powerful, respected, and feared.
Sometimes I wish I was in my 20s during the early 70's and close personal friends with Lou Reed.
Sometimes I wish I was a star quarterback for a college team, destined for greatness in the NFL.
Sometimes I wish I was a successful family man, with my 2 kids, a house and a dog.
Sometimes I wish I was someone else. | | |
| I never thought i'd say this, but i'm kinda getting sick of all the boobs related posts on xanga lately. I love me some boobs, but unfortunately all the boobs and the pics of boobs are mostly horrible fat girl boobs. I can do without 'em. If there's boobs I wanna save it'd be Chocolatecoveredkittens, or Dorothys, or basically any girls who's above a C cup and still perky. Nobody wants to save some DD cup size action thats hanging lower than those national geographic gym sock titties ya know? Unless it's your grandma or something. I mean, nobody wants their grandmas to die. Well, mine could go and i'd be fine, she's kindofa bitch but whatever. Regardless, you shouldn't be thinking of your grandmas tits in the first place. I'd also like to make it clear to the under C- cup and below crowd of women, there's nothing wrong with you or anything, I just prefer bustier women. Your tits are just as worthy of salvation but uh... well, just not to me. Sorry. | | |
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