The Avengers

  Joe Gillis: You’re Norma Desmond. You used to be in silent pictures.You used to be big.
Norma Desmond: I am big. It’s the pictures that got small.
Sunset Boulevard

Sorry, Norma. Not only do most people not remember who you are, but you’re wrong. Pictures don’t get much bigger than this. $441 million global opening weekend, ecstatic reviews from the majority of critics,
several extremely large dudes in tight outfits, and in the words of Ironman, “We have a Hulk.” Continue reading “The Avengers”

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

Captain America 3D

It’s been a good summer for villains without noses. First we had the snakelike profile of Rafe Fiennes slithering through the frames of Harry Potter, and now Captain America has introduced us to the Red Skull, a tomato faced skeletor with nothing but a big old hole where the schnozz should be. I almost included Owen Wilson in this group, but he actually has a nose in Midnight in Paris. It’s just that it looks like a penis. But I digress. Continue reading “Captain America 3D”

Cave of Forgotten Dreams

“You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning. But here you are, and you cannot say that the terrain is entirely unfamiliar, although the details are fuzzy.”*

This could happen to anyone. A few ceremonial drinks, a little white dust. It could be New York, 1984. Or Southern France, 32,000 years ago. Whatever. You duck in to get out of the rain, and the next thing you know you’re surrounded by bear skulls. The white powder is the only thing that makes sense. You grab a hunk of charcoal and begin to sketch. Continue reading “Cave of Forgotten Dreams”