When I am through with you, there won't be anything left

People of Earth,

Please allow me to indulge myself on this hump night with a love letter to the creators of Damages, a show so pants-droppingly mesmerizing that I devoured it almost in its entirety in a matter of weeks, before I had to stop myself because I did not want the ride to end. I am a little more than midway through season three, and I am rationing for myself the remaining episodes so as to decrease the waiting period between my watching the season three finale and the season four premiere this summer. In the meantime, words fail me in describing how incredibly this show is written and paced, except to say that the WTF moments happen so consistently and thoroughly that I can barely gird my loins in preparation, but the casting is really where the jaw begins to drop. Below, a pictorial summary:

The show begins and ends with Patty Hewes and what Glenn Close does with this role is, in the words of Javier, UNBELEBABLE. She won two Emmys back-to-back for the first two seasons and there is just no competition. She is terrifying and it is incredible to watch her eyes light up with every new scheme she cooks up to take down everyone around her. Nothing more can be said. Her performance has to be seen to be believed.

Next up, Ellen Parsons. The sad-eyed, innocent waif gets scooped up by Patty straight out of law school and, as expected, has no idea what she's getting herself into. Rose Byrne is an interesting character. I've been flipflopping about her since I first saw her in Troy and I generally found her to be bland and uninteresting. But lately, she's turned me around completely, and it was Get Him to the Greek that cinched it. She goes through hell and back throughout Damages and, though she lost me in season two, that was more to do with where her character was going than what she was doing as an actor. She's become one of the main reasons I'm excited about Bridesmaids this year. I'm thinking she could outshine all the other seasoned comedians she's working with, though that would be tough as shit. Almost as tough as Ellen. Parsons.

Ahh, there he is. My love. Tom Shayes. If you'd have told me five years ago that Marissa's dad would weasel his way into my heart, I would have thought you were fucking my face. But alas, Tom Shayes. Tom Shayes Tom Shayes Tom Shayes. Patty's right-hand woman. What can I say about Tom? He dresses like a young Scott Disick. That's about it. Oh, and he's completely amazing in every way. No one was happier than me to see this happen, not even Tom (if you consider this a spoiler, please sit down before you fall down):

Consider These For A Good Time

Rana here! Your friendly neighbourhood film-picker-outer. Might I recommend the following doozies the next time you are faced with the difficult question of what to watch?

The Darjeeling Limited: Wes Anderson and these lovely lads you see below. Really, you cannot go wrong. Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back! (What? You didn't pay? Well if you are one of the lucky few who have been able to access our blog without payment just go thank your lucky stars! Uh...I kid, of course)

Youth in Revolt: Don't let your disdain for Michael Cera stop you. This movie is absolutely gorgeous (the wonderfully named Chuy Chavez is behind the cinematography) and it's airy, funny and unique. Fantastic supporting cast too. Oh and the costumes are very well done, they definitely added a lot to the film.

Keeping Mum: Three words: British Comedy. Cheers. Oh damn, wait, I have two more words: Rowan Atkinson.

Monsieur Ibrahim (Monsieur Ibrahim et les fleurs du Coran): French film starring Omar Sharif (he won the Cesar for it in 2004). It's a very fresh and funny film, oui oui I say.

Sexually Confused Friday

As you may have guessed from the blogroll, some of us lurve fashion blogs. I am one of that some. I lurve my fashion blogs like Melissa Leo lurves achtung! wah-POW! I can go through reams of images over tea, infinity. Is this some sort of regression to childishness? I am literate. I just like photos A LOT. Anyways, exposition exposition, here are some pictures. This is what I want to wear or what I want my world to wear via clothes in movies. Maybe I can always put up film stills under the title of Sexually Confused Friday? It's definitely better to be sexually confused on a Friday than say, a Tuesday. Behold! The Man Wears The Suit.

Not to be Confused With the Rapper

Film: The Game
Dir.: David Fincher
Cast: Michael Douglas, Sean Penn, Armin Mueller-Stahl, Deborah Kara Unger
Screenplay: John D. Brancato & Michael Ferris (These guys wrote Catwoman! But they also wrote The Net, the greatest 90's movie ever made.)
Cinematography: Harris Savides

Plot: A successful businessman cashes in a birthday present and signs up to play a game, no, The Game. I shan't say more.

A few days ago I watched The Game. I'm not quite sure how to broach this film; The Rebound it most certainly is not. To give some context, I saw The Social Network in theaters about 7 times. I adopt a Wayne and Garth-like "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy," towards Fincher.

Which is wholly deserving, because The Game is everything I love about him and everything I love about The Social Network. In looking over Fincher's oeuvre (hayo, I went to school!) there seem to be odd fraternal twin-like pairings: Se7en and Zodiac are on the same spectrum, albeit located on very different places, Panic Room and Fight Club seem distantly related in the same way as The Game, and TSN. With these films it feels like Fincher's rubbing different sides of the same coin.


Lower lip curling at its greatest.

So it makes sense that when I was watching The Game, my mind kept drifting back to TSN. Jesse Eisenberg's intimidatingly pithy Mark Zuckerberg is reminiscent of Michael Douglas' emotionally vacant Nicholas Van Orton. I haven't seen Wall Street (WHAT?!?) but based on this performance, it's safe to say that Michael Douglas has perfected the role of the successful businessman who is missing nothing and everything. He does this dissatisfied lower lip curl, which I didn't know existed outside of Counts in Tolstoy novels. Everything about his performance is very quiet. He never betrays too much emotion, but it’s easy to infer what he’s feeling. Who thought this one was such a thespian?


"Dasvidanya, Anna Ivanovna! Eastern Promises is quotable for all occasions.

And why did no one tell me my favourite Russian Chester the Molester is in this? Albeit for maybe 10 minutes, but Armin Mueller-Stahl was perfect as a sweet, yet inefficient businessman. And Sean Penn. He plays Nicolas’ brother Conrad, who signs him up for The Game as a birthday present. It should be noted that Anita has had a life-long love affair with this man. I have not. But I’m coming around because of this performance. In the 20 minutes he was on screen, he was really fucking good. I don’t know why I’m surprised by this. He’s been in every amazing movie AND Charlie Sheen likes him.


This here is a god, an Adonis.

But enough about performances. The most obvious similarity between The Game and TSN is in the wash of the films. Everything is done in browns and blues and greens and greys, but all the vibrancy of the colours has been drained. Things seem cold and harsh, and even with so much opulence this world looks hard. Fincher's cinematographer on this, Harris Savides, was on the fucking ball. Savides has an impressive rack of films to his name (Milk, Zodiac, Greenberg, Last Days). On this, He made the immaculate framing mirror NIcholas' tightly wound character. In the beginning, every shot seems formal. I felt like I was being kept at arm's length by the character and the camera.


Show me an MBA who doesn't want an office like this, and I'll show you an English Major. Does that make sense? Whatever, I got it.

By the time the film ended, I felt tired. Not bored, tired, almost physically worn out. This was partially because of Howard Shore’s nerve-racking score. I think I was on edge the entire film because of the unsettling violins that made me think anything could happen at all times. Genius!


Nothing says I bought my house and housekeeper with the money I made in the summer between undergrad at Harvard and post-grad at Stanford, than a pinky ring.

Plot-wise I kept thinking “what the WHAT?” (SPOILER ALERT. I’m going to assume everyone is better than me and has seen this movie already. If not, avert those eyes.) I felt like I felt in Inception, albeit less confused. In the end when Conrad shows up on the roof and then Nicholas SHOOTS HIM, I had a heart attack. And then, of course, Nicholas has to jump off the roof. And fall through the roof, into his birthday party. And then implied hook-up with the film-noir hottie (Deborah Kara Unger) who he wasn’t sure he could trust but in the end has a heart of gold.


The Demon Banker of Fleet Street.

This all felt like the modern man’s exorcist movie. All the demons Nicholas carried from his childhood and his relationship with his father are exorcised through The Game. I don’t know why it’s so effective when creepy people quote the Bible in films, but a skeevy businessman describes The Game to a bewildered Nicholas, by saying “John 9:25 ‘whereas once I was blind, now I can see.” Oddly enough, that’s the quote that seems to epitomize The Game.

I’m not worthy, I’M NOT WORTHY!


"UGH, traffic was a bitch! How did you get here?" " Oh, I fell through the roof."

It's Business, It's Business Time

Hey, hey, hey, hey! The blunt judges met this evening over Limonata, tea, hors d'oeuvres, ketchup/salt n'vinegar chips (90's children! no scrubs here!), popcorn und tiramisu; a good diet is very important, no? We talked of movies and blog design, which we are still fiddling with, and poked around the interweb for boss film stills. The following are just a few that twisted our underoos. I'm still untwisting.

















Also, here, look: beautiful film art
and funny as hell film posters (Poland is so underrated)


Happy Daylight Savings from your favourite judicial body!

Confessions of an Unemployed Mind

Hello, let me catch you up to speed.

As of late I have found myself with a lot of time on my hands. Which is to euphemistically say that while the other two blunt judges have been industriously employed with employment and law school I have been...not. Which is cool, whateves, I'm not worried, the economy, the recession, who saw that coming, not the Lehman brothers, right? Right?

So in lieu of being productive, I have watched a shit load of films. And thus begins THE CHRONIC - WHAT! - LES OF THE UNEMPLOYED, or, DIARY OF A MAD ETHNIC UNEMPLOYED EMPLOYEE, or, UNEMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH, so on and so forth. I’ll think of some puns soon.

So to catch you even more up to speed, here are some of the gems that have been occupying my time:

I Could Never Be Your Woman


I could never live without these significant looks.

Dir.: Amy Heckerling
Cast: Paul Rudd, Michelle Pfeiffer, Saoirse Ronan, Tracy Ullman, Jon Lovitz
Obscure British Cast: David Mitchell, Sarah Alexander, Graham Norton, Archie Panjabi, Mackenzie Crook


STOP IT PAUL RUDD, I CANT.

Plot, Which is Obvious, I’m Being Redundant Telling You This: Paul Rudd is a young, single, actor man. Michelle Pfeiffer is an old(er), divorced, T.V writer, mom woman. They are genitally attracted to each other but socially prohibited from dating.