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 2012

Does this right: excellent special effects, and maintaining an air of nonchalance through the violence, which makes the movie slightly palatable. It just doesn’t quite go far enough into that territory, where it would have excelled as a farce.

In a nutshell, if bright flashing lights and moving pictures are the kind of thing that get your shorts all steamy, then this is the flick that warrants a couple changes of underwear, because 2012 is nothing and I mean nothing if not visually appealing.

Yes, apart from the extravagant CGI—if you have time to think in between having your mind completely fucking blown, man—the film falters considerably. After all, it is a Roland Emmerich film, and as such, 2012 showcases all the inane blockbuster-movie caveats that have their way with the best of his intentions: cheesy and predictable one-liners go hand-in-hand with dramatic hyperbole; deeper meaning and emotional connection are scrambled beneath an impossible storyline that chucks facts in favor of ‘dem fancy graphics.

And now I shall complain.

Ahem.

The dog and the kids survive, despite Armageddon’s best attempts to off them; the guy gets the girl over the dead body of the unnecessarily mauled beau, as if to say, “Take that, you bastard! That’ll teach you for being an all right fellow, with a fine mind and a full set of teeth who only desires to do right by the woefully undersexed Amanda Peet (playing the woefully undersexed Kate Curtis); the really bad dude gets his comeuppance and learns a thing or two on the way, uh, down (goddam immature moralizing!); and Emmerich even jams in a wet t-shirt scene courtesy of Tamara (played very attractively by Beatrice Rosen). That last one wasn’t all bad, I suppose, just another obvious bit of pandering to the teenage males who are paying for Emmerich’s personal jet.

That isn’t to say that the film lacks a message or a motive, it’s just that both are poorly wrought. Emmerich tries to get a point across about religion-versus-science or right vs. wrong or something; he hints at it here and there throughout the film (see the unintentionally hilarious Sisteen Chapel demolition) and it all builds to the drab climax where the character whom Emmerich deems fit to wear the morality cape, Adrian Helmsley (played by the under-appreciated-in-this-film Chiwetel Ejiofor) finally confronts his pasty, money grubbing boss. And though Helmsley does triumph, the scene doesn’t go down the way we want; i.e., it doesn’t involve mixed martial arts and some kick-ass UnitedStatesifyin’ Kid Rock. Instead, it happens with a shoulder shrug and a nod to the obvious. The seconds count down and there is no sense of urgency, just a very slight sigh of finality and the realization that there are a few more scenes of crazy shit to swallow before the apocalypse finally blows its load.

And if sexual references in poor taste are my downfall, then predictability is 2012’s. The destruction scenes melt into one another and stop mattering entirely once one learns that there is never a doubt as to who is going to make it out of the fire or the water or the ice or the plane or the earthquake or the flaming balls of molten earth-bomb-stuff without a scratch. Hence, there is no reason to care. And there is nothing between the chaos to hold the movie together; the film becomes one meaningless natural disaster after another: a highlight real for the CGI team.

I recommend watching this movie some night when you’ve got nothing else to do. It is fun, but a good film it is not. It’s just, well, another blah bit o’ story heaped together with some sweet eye candy. That is, it says nothing but looks nice. If you’re already a fan of Emmerich’s films, this one won’t make you rethink your life choices.

P.S. To everyone who contends that the Mayan prophecy was downplayed in this movie: So what? Because it was played up in the previews? If you still believe previews preview the movie then you need to learn how to wear pants on your legs and not over your eaty-end-for-meats-and-drinnkinlikker. Previews preview what a studio hopes the audience wants, not the actual movie. Besides, if the film had expounded on the intricacies of the Mayan prophecy then it would have been titled 2012: The Mayans Laugh Last and would have involved the Discovery Channel and a voiceover by Morgan Freeman. The prophecy is mentioned more than a few times and when you get right down to it, once Armageddon actually arrives, would anyone really give a shit if the Mayans had it all figured out? I know it’ll be the last thing on my mind at least. I’ll be too busy boarding up my room, oiling my shotgun and setting up my Xbox360 for a marathon run of “Left 4 Dead 2”. 

In the daily tasks of my work I usually have the pleasure of licking at least one envelope a day. If you lick envelopes, you know the joys I speak of. So one can imagine how excited I was to cut my tounge with an envelope while licking it today. Besides the sting of the papercut, I was reminded of an urban myth where a person who gets an envelope papercut ends up with cockroach eggs in their tounge (which were for some reason on the sticky part of the envelope), therefore hosting the eggs until they hatch in the person's mouth. I did a little research and now feel that it's probably just that, a myth. But just to be safe I'm going to drink a lot of alcohol tonight at the Parade of Lights to kill any little buggers that might be growing in my tounge because I licked an envelope with a little too much vigor.

Mickey

Check out Locals Only this Sunday at 9pm on channel 93.3. Alf is going to play one of the songs off of our new disc. 

Hope you guys likey very much!

In other news, don't forget to keep your calendars open on December 11. We're having a party to celebrate our album. We'll have some cool giveaways and drink specials and the like, and it's FREE so if you're 16 or older get yourself on down to Moe's on Broadway and help us party!

Last night, the band minus Mark went to an industry networking party, for lack of a better term. The idea was to talk to and give out a couple of our really cool new press kits to people we want to have physical proof of how cool we are (they are pretty cool, the press kits). Dave and Dan did well at this task. I did not. I was preoccupied with the unlimited beer and a platter of those tortilla wraps that are filled with cream cheese. I remember pointing out to someone that seemed important the fact that I am unable to maintain interesting conversation with people from time to time, this being one of those times. He agreed and told me that he hoped it doesn't translate into my performances. I assured him that it didn't, shoved three tortilla rolls in my mouth and excused myself to refill my beer. I am hopeful that he will see us perform in the future.

However I feel about my nervousness sometimes, at least I'm not these people. I found this photo at akwardfamilyphotos.com