Film Squirrel

Year One hits theaters this Friday and I’m torn. The trailers aren’t doing it for me. Those NBA Finals promo stops with Michael Cera and Jack Black were irritating to put it nicely. And while I like the premise and find wigs hilarious, the thing looks a little thin plot-wise.

But… it’s Harold Ramis, people, the man responsible for directing two of my favorite comedies Groundhog Day and Caddyshack . And did I mention dude’s a Ghostbuster ? Come on, I’m there.

But I don’t love its box-office prospects and expect repeat Hangover business to soften its bow even further. It opens in the low 20s and struggles to hit triple digits domestically.

I saw the first and found it rather dreadful. I just couldn’t make out what the hell was going on. I heard giant robots were involved. Apparently, these giant robots are back for a sequel. And they’re even more giant this time.

Variety and The Hollywood Reporter have weighed in and it sounds about right. Big, dumb, and loud. OK, OK, I’ll probably cave and see it in IMAX opening weekend. But I won’t like it!

Remakes are a dime a dozen these days, but it was a bit surprising when director Tony Scott chose to remake the 1974 influential classic The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. For one, there was already an ill-advised made-for-TV redo that landed with a thud back in 1998. And for two, aren’t there any new ideas out there?! (continue reading…)

We all know the feeling. The dry mouth that water won’t whet. The nausea that refuses to purge itself. The craving for a McDonald’s McRib that can only be sated by the gastronomical nightmare of actually consuming a McDonald’s McRib. Of course, I’m talking about the dreaded hangover.

Sure, we all have a home remedy we swear by - two alka-seltzer tablets fizzed into a double shot of tequila works for me - but in reality the only cure is time.  And what better way to bide that Sunday afternoon time than at a screening of acclaimed director Todd Phillips’ new comedy opus The Hangover.

The Hangover centers on three pals who must retrace their steps, and more importantly find the groom, following a Vegas bachelor party gone horribly awry. As their encounters become more and more bizarre – babies, tigers, Mike Tyson – they begin to realize that this hangover could last a lifetime.

The pic’s riding a heady buzz that should translate to b.o upwards of $130 million during its long and sweaty summer run. Take two aspirins, check it out, and call me in the morning.

Trekkies across the universe held their collective breath when it was announced in 2006 that writer/director/producer/hyphenate J.J. Abrams would reboot the lethargic Star Trek franchise.  Their worry wasn’t unjustified. The last film installment STAR TREK: NEMESIS was critically ravaged and commercially a failure; the latest tv series ENTERPRISE also underwhelmed, lasting only three seasons and getting canceled by, gulp, UPN. The Starfleet was hemorrhaging fuel and headed for a crash landing.

Enter J.J. Abrams and exhale young Vulcan, this new generation shall live long and prosper. Abrams has given us a leaner (look at Kirk’s cheekbones!), meaner, and hipper edition that’s relaunched the Enterprise into the next orbit . Pic burned up the box office last weekend to the tune of $75 million and looks poised to collect $200+ million during its summer run. Beam up a sequel, Scotty!