The Academy Awards: Everything Old is New Again

Don’t throw the past away
You might need it some rainy day
Dreams can come true again
When everything old is new again

Let’s hope that the Mayans are not as accurate with their predictions as Peter Allen was when he wrote this song. Last night’s Academy Awards demonstrated that if 94% of your membership is composed of old, white men, chances are pretty good that they are going to vote for a chance to relive their youth and give the golden statuette to a black & white silent movie. Kind of like an all male panel in Congress deciding that funding birth control is useless – go with what you know! I was planning on turning flicksthatmakemesick monochromatic to honor The Artist, but I decided it was too much trouble; plus I didn’t even like the movie that much. Continue reading

2012 Academy Award Nominations!

There’s not a lot to get excited about in late January. The weather sucks, your credit cards are maxed out on things that no one wrote you a thank you note for, and the endless Republican debates are making us fear for society. But here at flicksthatmakemesick, we’re as happy as Demian Bichir because it’s Academy Award time!

If you have no idea who Demian Bichir is or why he’s happy, then you need to carefully study the list of nominations to get ready for the big event. Continue reading


2012! A year so scary that it has a disaster film named after it! If the Mayans are correct, then flicksthatmakemesick only has about 11 months left to inflict its cutting-edge comedy and world-weary, puke-tinged movie reviews on you. So make sure you click on this site several times a day so you won’t miss a single word! And if they’re wrong … well, you should still hit it all the time. What else are you going to do – watch the Republican primaries? (and may I just add that if Rick Santorum is actually elected president, we will all be praying that the damn Mayans were right.) Continue reading

The Top Ten Films of 2011 Most Likely to Make You Hurl

Top Ten Best of Lists abound at the end of the year, and never let it be said that flicksthatmakemesick is above following the major critics like a bleating sheep. Their lists discuss the best movies that were shown, usually including an Iranian classic or two that no one else saw that makes them feel very important. But flicksthatmakemesick speaks for the people! We are not analyzing the dinosaur metaphor that clearly indicated something really symbolic in Terrance Malik’s The Tree of Life; we are attempting to keep you from throwing up on your new sweater while contemplating Tom Cruise hanging upside down on the outside of the world’s tallest building. (my advice would be do not attempt Mission Impossible on a date night. Especially in IMAX. Just sayin’.) Continue reading

A Critical Juncture

As the temperature finally climbs above the wooly sweater mark, the days shift from cold and wet to hot and damp, and the summer movie season explodes like an early Fourth of July cherry bomb. The numbers coming in are huge – The Hangover II had the biggest Memorial Day weekend opening in movie history for a comedy or an R-rated film. This deliberately gross flick grossed $200 million globally. That means countries around the world now believe all Americans look like Zach Galifianakis. Continue reading

Happy Mother’s Day!

I inherited a lot of things from my mother. I got the fat Italian skin, my artistic abilities, a love of reading and a sarcastic stream of consciousness that runs through every relationship I have (including this blog). I have only one memory of her actually throwing up, so I don’t think I can credit her with the genetic connection for my queasiness.

The vomiting memory is more of a family story, because I was too young to have actually witnessed it. Legend says that my mom, my three sisters and I were returning from an amusement park island in the middle of the Detroit river known as Bob-Lo Island. The Bob-Lo steamer was a huge Show Boat type ferry, and whether it was heat, choppy waves or just too much time on a carousel with four extremely talkative little girls, mom started to feel nauseous. Not wanting to draw attention to herself or make a mess, she then proceeded to throw up in her purse. I don’t know why she didn’t just lean over the railing like everybody else. I just hope she took her keys out before yakking.

She died a few years ago, and I miss her a lot. I sometimes wonder what her reaction to this website would be. I would have to turn the computer on for her and find the site, for she had no interest whatsoever in learning how. She would look at a few entries, check the spelling in the columns and make sure I was having fun doing it. Then she would laugh at the fact that I had actually included a story about her where she threw up in her purse, make herself a drink and a slice of bologna rolled up around some cottage cheese, and lie down on the couch to “rest her eyes.”

Happy Mother’s Day memories to all of us who are missing our moms, and to all the moms who are still here creating new ones. After brunch, why not take her to a movie? Here’s a list of the Top Ten Movies about Mothers compiled by some cheesy website. Or you could take her to see Thor. He’s the God of Thunder and apparently spends a lot of time with his shirt off. I bet she’d like it more than Stepmom.

Taxman! Get Bent!

Every single morning, I get in my car and drive in a straight line. My office is 12 miles due west from my home, and I mean that literally. I have found that since I don’t need to turn, I can lock the steering wheel into position by hooking a bungee cord to the door handle, leaving my hands free for sexting and cleaning out my purse. I found $1.87 in the lining yesterday – sweet!

It’s a fascinating route, watching the various ethnic signs change as the neighborhoods do. One block has six dog spas on it; a few miles later, the storefronts are encouraging to you to train your pet as an attack canine, making you wonder exactly what happened between those two locations. Even the graffiti is in different languages – apparently some of the Latin Kings have studied Polish. Continue reading

Don’t Be Happy, Be Content

I haven’t posted here in over a week, and my anxiety level keeps rising. Content rules the web – how will I get hits if I never write anything new?!
I’m not sure why getting hits should feed into my self-esteem, but it must be important or else they wouldn’t give you that little Blog Stats counter. I’m pretty sure it measures your self-worth in some way, so imagine how good Charlie Sheen must be feeling right about now.

The other day I found myself thinking about going to a movie, and as I perused the films opening that weekend, I noticed one called Drive Angry 3D. The description of it read, “Milton, a hardened felon, has broken out of hell for one last chance at redemption. Intent on stopping a vicious cult who murdered his daughter, he has three days to stop them before they sacrifice her baby beneath a full moon.” And of course it starred Nicolas Cage, because who else can play a hardened felon who has broken out of hell for one last chance at redemption? His hair looks like he does that on just a regular day.

I’m sorry to tell you that my first thought on reading about this movie was, “Wow! I’ll bet that will make me really sick! It will be great material for the blog!” And then I was ashamed (but not before I checked the times to see if I went to The Adjustment Bureau, there might be one that I could sneak into right afterward).

People may think they need a constant feed of news 24/7, but this not CNN and I am not Anderson Cooper (who still looks fabulous even after that unfortunate incident in Egypt). So my vow to you, dear, reader, is this: I will not attend films hoping that they will make me sick just so I will have something to write about. The process should be more organic than that. I think it’s so much more effective when you settle in to watch a highly anticipated, well-reviewed film and then are totally blindsided when you turn into Linda Blair from The Exorcist.

But because that may not happen on a timely basis and the beast must be fed (that damn counter has been stuck on 957 for two days!), I may resort to throwing in 500 or so words that have absolutely nothing to do with flicks that make me sick. I also fear that I am rapidly running out of metaphors for vomit, and I think a little break now and then to clear the palette will be refreshing. All I ask from you is that you keep click, click, clicking! (and love me! It means you love me!)

Thirteen Days until Daylight Savings Time

It’s March 1, and here at flicksthatmakemesick, we would like to extend a joyous shout-out to meteorological spring, even though my car was encased in a half-inch of ice yesterday. Here is a small tribute to the month from my favorite Albanian weatherman: Continue reading

Final Thoughts on the Academy Awards

Well, now, that wasn’t so good, was it? I think I would rather watch James Franco cut off his arm than see him host this show again. Dude was either terrified or stoned, and I hope for his sake it was the latter because at least he won’t remember how bad he was. And Anne Hathaway had a lot of pretty dresses. I’m really sorry Exit Through the Gift Shop didn’t win because I heard Banksy was going to show up in a monkey suit. At least that would have livened things up a little.