Photo Courtesy © Warner Bros.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Directed by: David Yates

Written by: Michael Goldenberg

Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Ralph Fiennes, Gary Oldman, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Matthew Lewis, Bonnie Wright, Michael Gambon, Evanna Lynch, Emma Thompson, Maggie Smith, David Thewlis, Jason Isaacs, Imelda Staunton, Robbie Coltrane, Helena Bonham Carter, Brendan Gleeson and Alan Rickman.

In its many passages from one set of directorial hands to the other, the cinematic interpretations of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter have twisted one way and then the other, at alternating points revealing and hardening the hearts of the helming visionaries. Christopher Columbus offered a quiet albeit pat imagination; Alfonso Cuarón a heartbreaking sense of lyricism; Mike Newell an abounding sense of adventure, and now, with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, set to open July 11^th, director David Yates entreats his audience to the expanse, London landscapes spreading out for miles in frame, the halls of Ministry looming. In an appropriate thematic nod to the novel, the film is seen entirely through wide shots—the real world for the first time troubling in on the insular fantasy of Hogwarts.

As he readies himself for defense against blood enemy Lord Voldemort (while at the same time battling a tyrannical new headmaster from the Ministry of Magic), Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) falls into and out of utter self-indulgence. Feeling alone in his struggles, he constantly tries to evade his own sadness, unsuccessfully shielding it from everyone around him. His saving grace is the support and dedication of his friends, all who gather to form a Defensive Against the Dark Arts club that Harry teaches. The film, like the book, cumulates in a face-to-face confrontation that proves to everyone in the wizarding world that the Dark Lord has indeed returned. Like all strong yarns, it’s a classical battle of good and evil with its necessary bits of melodrama tagged along the way. 

Despite a slow beginning, a narrative ambivalence that leaves a bland but bitter aftertaste, Order of the Phoenix flourishes into on-target poignant moments, honest and sweet interactions and fist-pumping action, all marked by acting that’s finally hit home. Radcliffe shines in his emotional silence and turbulence; always unselfish, Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley) stands in the background, his constant support the necessary buoy to foil Harry’s self-indulgence; and, the youngest of the trio, Emma Watson (Hermione Granger), while still a bit studied in her performance, pulls off an emotional ease and maturity. Among the newcomers, Imelda Staunton’s portrayal of headmaster Dolores Umbridge builds a layer of eerie subtlety—a sense of fanaticism and quiet triumph enveloped in hesitant smiles, comical coughs and flares of pink. Likewise, Evanna Lynch’s Luna Lovegood mirrors the literary character without flaw, her awkwardness as endearing and eccentric as the lovable outsider from the book.

Notably absent from reflection however in this film is the belabored moodiness of the book. Michael Goldenberg’s screenplay moves fluidly cut to cut, snipping the epic into a coherent, gripping and manageable whole. There’s not a sense here as in the prior films that something is missing, not even, astoundingly, the always-controversial Quidditch matches. The pieces and minor alterations to story fit so well together that the puzzle feels complete, the ending landscape shot even circling back to encompass the expansive feel Yates’ establishes at the beginning of the film.

Simply put, of all the directors to date, Yates’ vision is the most clear, and frankly, most tonally accurate to the books. He’s unafraid to let his actors play, to let go of certain moments and take up others whole-heartedly. Fittingly, Yates, following in the footsteps of Columbus, will helm his sophomore film of the series Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, a film, which by all the looks of it, should be even better than this one.

Noralil@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © idealterna

Sicko (2007)

Written and directed By: Michael Moore

So here we are three years after Michael Moore’s powerful film Fahrenheit 9/11 and things are exactly the same. One can say that change just happens if given enough time, but does it really? Or are we the only ones that can influence a change? I can honestly say that Sicko has opened my eyes, not that I wasn’t aware that the heath care system in this country is a disgrace but it’s the extent of the corruption that will leave you speechless. First, here are some facts on our health care system that you should know. “The United States is ranked #37 as a health system by the World Health Organization.” “There are nearly 50 million Americans without health insurance.” “18,000 Americans will die this year simply because they're uninsured.” (Visit www.michaelmoore.com for more information on the state of our health care system.)

Sicko is a collection of interviews and testimonials from individuals across the nation that have been ignored and taken advantage of by the health insurance companies. Among the people interviewed for the film are hardworking Americans that can’t afford or do not qualify for health insurance, 9/11 rescue workers that can’t get any money for medical attention for complications brought on by their heroic efforts at the World Trade Center, and people who currently live in countries with universal health care. You will also see shocking confessions from people inside the health insurance industry as well as refreshing views from doctors in countries with universal health care. The facts cannot be ignored: this is your health in the hands of corrupt corporations. Both the pharmaceutical and health care industries have a monopoly on how you, your kids and your parents will deal with sickness.

I myself have dealt with the shocking blows of getting sick in this country, to the tune of ($10,000) Incidentally, that’s how much it will cost you to pass a kidney stone in America. Let me break that down for you: One CAT scan, 2 shots of morphine and 3 hours of waiting in a hospital hallway. All I needed was some pain killers but as you can guess I didn’t have too many options since I wasn’t insured. Back in Colombia (where I’m from) you can just go to any pharmacy, get a shot and end of story, total cost U.S. $.50 fucking cents. This film highlights the price we are paying for not having universal health care. In my opinion, Sicko is the most important film that Michael Moore has made to date.

Juanmarcos@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © Lions Gate Films

Away from Her

Written and directed by: Sarah Polley

Starring: Julie Christie, Gordon Pinsent, Olympia Dukakis, Michael Murphy.

Sarah Polley’s directorial debut Away from Her opens in the bleak expanse of rural Ontario, a region perpetually covered in snow. The empty backdrop is wholly appropriate to the film, a story about love and abandonment, and the cruelty of memory as it ages over time.

The story centers on Fiona, a vivacious woman who is slowly losing her mind to Alzheimer’s. As her condition worsens, her husband Grant faces a terrible choice – to put her in a nursing home and lose her to the disease, or to risk losing her to traffic, to backcountry trails, or to the vast expanse of wilderness at home. He opts for the former, but the plan quickly backfires – after a mandatory month-long absence, he returns to find that Fiona has begun to lose her mind, and in the process has fallen for Aubrey, a fellow patient.

In reconstructing Fiona’s transition to the nursing home, Sarah Polley has captured something very real about the efficacy of the elderly care system – not only the vaguely fascist rule system, but also the chipper, maniacal tone of people who deal constantly with death. As attendants wheel patients from room to room evaluating progress or deterioration, Grant finds himself face to face with families like himself—mothers, brothers, and nieces facing the guilt of putting their loved ones in a long-term holding pen. He befriends a young attendant, who gently informs him, as Fiona’s condition worsens, that they might have to move her to the “second floor” – that is, the place where people go to die.

Gordon Pinsent is excellent as Grant, capturing both the truculence of the aging academic and the quiet desperation of a husband whose situation is quickly spiraling out of control. Frustrated with his wife’s failure to recognize him, Grant brings flowers, adds books to Fiona’s library, and tries desperately to reconstruct the life that they used to have. As the relationship begins to tumble into disarray, he adopts the rituals of the spurned lover – sulking in the corner, while his wife of fifty years plays Bingo with another man. It’s touching, and cruel, and occasionally humorous, but as Grant humiliates himself over and over again to win Fiona back, his effort becomes almost heroic in its dogged persistence.

In speaking about the film, Julie Christie has noted her own experience with Alzheimer’s patients, and the tragic experience of watching friends and relatives vanish over time. Anyone who has seen a loved one “vanish” – who has had parents or grandparents forget their names or speak with people who simply aren’t there – can sympathize with this jarring loss of connection. Watching the inchoate Aubrey and his wife Marion (deftly played by Olympia Dukakis) gives a grim picture of what might be in store for Fiona and Grant, as cherished memories give way to the cold realities of long-term patient care.

Polley doesn’t sentimentalize this – she treats it as fact. But she also insists that there is room for growth. There is something joyful, almost adolescent in Fiona’s relationship with Aubrey – the thrill of sharing a book, or trading a sweater, which reminds us that Fiona is still vibrant in the face of her deterioration. Likewise, it is tremendous to see Grant’s relationship with his wife deepen, even as its material vestiges begin to fade away. Books and flowers are the stuff of romantic drama, but Grant embodies something more, the simple importance of just showing up. In sixty years, we should all be so lucky.

Katie Gradowski – Temp Jockey

Photo Courtesy © Universal Pictures

Evan Almighty

Directed by: Tom Shadyac

Written by: Steve Oedekerk

Starring: Steve Carell, Lauren Graham, Morgan Freeman, Wanda Sykes, Molly Shannon, Ed Helms.

The conservative Christian movement left its mark once again this week – first in a series of tortuous 5-4 decisions at the Supreme Court, and then at the weekend box office, where Evan Almighty proved (equally grimly) that God has finally gone mainstream.

The sequel to 2005’s Bruce Almighty, Evan Almighty follows Evan Baxter – now a Congressman – as he struggles to carry out God’s divine mandate, to build an ark and save the world’s wildlife from the impending disaster. It’s an updated version of the Noah story, with Evan / Noah (Steve Carell) as a bumbling politico, God as a mild-mannered guy who can boogie with the best of them, and the sinners of the world as the snobbish, career-minded politicians along the Baltimore / Washington beltway. The flood is no longer an act of divine retribution – instead, it’s a highly localized affair, designed to stop Congress from building luxury housing in a national park.

This is fucked up on a number of levels. Morgan Freeman’s limp aphorism – that “ARK” stands for “acts of random kindness” – skips over a fairly important point in the Noah story: that is, it’s a story where everyone dies. There is no forgiveness. There are no acts of random kindness. There is certainly no hugging of trees. It’s a story about the worst of the worst – total annihilation as a result flouting God’s will. Evan Almighty deftly steps around this uncomfortable denouement. The flood, when it comes, spans approximately one city block. No one is killed or even remotely injured. Passersby could take photos if they wanted, as both the laws of gravity and fluid dynamics appear to be momentarily suspended.

Instead, the flood becomes a fairly mellow affair – the ark cruises down K street, coming to rest at the foot of the Capitol building, where Steve Carell confronts his fellow Congressmen and urges them (rather weakly) to “Repent!” It’s a weird moment—God, it seems, has implanted a divine operative in a Republican congress…to push for environmental legislation…to keep Congress from plowing under the Appalachian forest? The film shoots deliberately low in this regard – who doesn’t love trees? – but it leaves the ending feeling a bit off, as the movie leaves the religious right behind and starts pandering to the environmental movement instead, while missing the major points for all parties involved. What we get instead is a flood where nobody dies; a prophet who is a bumbling idiot, and who only prays to get himself out of trouble; and a watered-down parable about saving the trees, halting urban development, and enjoying the texture of a finely woven lamb-skin cloak.

All in all, this movie is an identity crisis in the making – Hollywood has discovered a hot new demographic, but can’t quite figure out how to translate faith, spirituality, and Christian sacrifice into a marketable summer package. Instead, we get a film that blends the worst parts of Hollywood schmaltz with the lowest forms of secularized Christian values – the “church is fun” attitude that turns faith into a rock concert, that encourages us to “love each other” while remaining mute on the very real sins of poverty, war, and domestic violence. This criminally maudlin tone is exemplified by a sadly underused Lauren Graham, who notes early in the film, “The kids did something really cute today, Evan. They said they wanted to pray.” Never mind that Noah’s Ark isn’t about being cute. This is Hollywood at its finest – conservative, cute, mind-bogglingly vacuous. And as always, perfectly willing to sell out its demographic for a PG-rating.

Katie Gradowski – Temp Jockey

Photo Courtesy © Fox Searchlight Pictures

Once

Written and directed by: John Carney

Starring: Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová.

It is damn near impossible to talk about John Carney’s Once without discussing the music and the songs that are featured within it. The film is easily categorized as a musical as the songs are as integral to the storyline as the characters and dialogue themselves, and yet unlike your standard musical, when the characters in this film burst into song it feels absolutely natural—a logical extension of the thoughts and ideas that they were expressing just a minute ago in prose.

Shot entirely on digital film, with that wonderful grainy and low-budget look to prove it, and coming in at a little over an hour and a half, Once tells the story of a street musician and a lovely house-cleaner/street peddler of magazines and flowers who are drawn to one another through their songs. The story is simple and literally involves just a guy and a girl—their names are never revealed and thus they are even credited as such—who meet and fall in love with each other, but what transforms their story into a remarkable one is the music that they make together.

Glen Hansard, front man for Irish band The Frames, and Markéta Irglová, a singer-songwriter in her own right, play the guy and girl, respectively, and their chemistry on-screen is both completely sincere and beguiling. (The two of them are actually dating in real life and have also formed a band called The Swell Season which is currently touring.)

The songs that they sing through the course of the movie are equal parts heart-breaking, stunning and addictive and you’ll find yourself humming them unconsciously as soon as one ends and the other begins. (Landmark Sunshine, the theater where I saw the film, even goes so far as to sell its soundtrack in the lobby, which I, along with several others, purchased immediately after seeing the film.)

Had Once been released when I was 14 rather than 25, I would have seen it at least six times by now. As I write this article I have seen the film only twice, something that given the cost of movie tickets these days is almost unheard of and is a downright luxury. Yet I can’t help but want to see it again simply to lose myself in its beauty—to remember just how good a film can be (and feel) when it proudly wears its heart on its sleeve.

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © Paramount Vantage

A Mighty Heart

Directed by: Michael Winterbottom

Written by: John Orloff

Starring: Angelina Jolie, Dan Futterman, Archie Panjabi, Will Patton and Irfan Khan.

I must be completely honest: I went into A Mighty Heart fully prepared to blithely tear apart Angelina Jolie’s performance, based almost entirely on what I thought I had witnessed in the trailer. Very few people in cinema can do what Meryl Streep does with grace and ease—inhabit a person and an accent so that you no longer see the American actor before you but rather are fully engrossed in the person that they say they are. When I saw the trailer for A Mighty Heart I quickly dismissed the hair, the accent, even the skin color, simply because it wasn’t the Jolie that I was used to seeing, meaning, she isn’t French, and I stupidly judged a performance without watching a single scene from the film. But after seeing the movie there is little doubt in my mind as to why Jolie was cast—even over other French actors—and I cannot imagine another actress in the role of journalist Mariane Pearl. With this performance, Jolie harkens back to a time in her career (namely Gia) when she was brimming with promise—a time when her ability to tap into emotions in a way that no other actress could made you tremble in anticipation for her next role. Suffice to say that the Oscar buzz is indeed well-deserved.

From 2006’s documentary Road to Guantanamo to chronicling the 80s Manchester music scene in 24 Hour Party People to his raw exploration of music and sex in 9 Songs, director Michael Winterbottom is known for tackling his subjects head on. A Mighty Heart is no exception. From the film’s opening scenes, Winterbottom throws you into the middle of a story that has already unfolded and you spend the rest of the film in complete disarray, trying to piece together the puzzle right along with Mariane, the FBI, the Pakistani police and the rest of the characters onscreen. The result is exhausting but effective and to deem the film, its subject matter and even Winterbottom himself as “socially conscious” seems trite and flippant and fails to fully do justice to the rare feat that he pulls off in telling a story of such disturbing proportions without resorting to hackneyed or manipulative techniques.

A Mighty Heart’s cast is pitch-perfect, and the research that the filmmakers put into capturing every detail of Mariane and Daniel’s story onscreen only serves to pull you further into the pain and despair that gradually unfolds. The Namesake’s Irfan Khan shines as the stalwart Pakistani Captain leading the search for Daniel Pearl, and Dan Futterman, whose talents are seemingly endless, not only eerily resembles the real Daniel Pearl physically, but brings emotional weight to a role that is the film’s most challenging by any standard. Where Jolie’s Mariane becomes a fully realized character with different sides and dimensions over the course of the movie, Futterman’s Daniel isn’t given the same opportunity—and yet somehow it is his performance that tethers the entire film.

The first thing that I did when I walked out of the theater after watching the film, oddly enough, was call my Dad. I dialed the number instinctively as I walked through the dimly lit square, hoping against all odds that somehow my father would know the answers to the questions that beat against my brain ceaselessly.

They were naïve questions, as was my childish notion that “Daddy” could fix this, that somehow he would have the solution and know what to do. But these are questions that cannot be answered with words or even with one film: How do you defeat an enemy that cannot be defeated? How do you fight a hatred that is seemingly insurmountable and that is built on a well of deeply-rooted emotions that outrun logic and humanity? The film’s answer (and Mariane Pearl’s): By continuing to live. In spite of the hatred, in spite of the violence, responding always with hope and love rather than fear.

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

DVD'S:

The. O.C. – The Complete Series

(“THE ESCAPE” – Season 1)

Summer: Come on. Get off the bed!

Seth: Nope.

Summer: Be, like, a gentleman?

Seth: Chivalry's dead, sugar.

Summer got onto the bed.

Summer: You make a move, I rip out your jugular.

Seth: Hey, pillow talk.

(“THE DISTANCE” – Season 2)

Ryan: How'd you make it all the way from Newport on that little catamaran?

Seth: Hm. Well, Ryan, sit down, my son. (Motions for him to sit down.) It was a long and torturous journey, and I'm not gonna, I'm not gonna sugar coat any details with you—

Ryan: Please don't.

Seth: —'cause we're friends. First, I sailed to Catalina. Then, I sailed to Santa Barbara. Santa Barbara, I ran out of snacks. Freaked out a little bit, pawned my boat for cash, took a Greyhound to Portland.

Ryan: You took a bus.

Seth: Yeah. But don't say it like that, cause it was a local. Okay, have you ever been in one of those? Okay, not for the faint of heart.

Ryan: I can't believe after all that you took a bus.

Seth: Yeah. I think we're definitely going to have to come up with a better story for school though, that'd be good.

Ryan: I don't know, I like the bus idea. It's cool.

Seth: Okay, what about maybe... boat sank, saved by whales? It's very Whale Rider.

Ryan: What else you' got?

Seth: I took a boat, boat sank, saved by a mermaid? Boat sank, stranded on a desert island...

(“THE ROAD WARRIOR” – Season 3)

Seth: Dude, where are you?

Ryan: Indio. How much trouble am I in?

Seth: Ah, none yet. Mom and Dad think you're helping inner city kids paint an overpass mural. I'm rolling around in your bed right now. So it looks slept in.

Ryan: You probably do that anyway.

(“THE SUMMER BUMMER” – Season 4)

Ryan: What are you doing paying your gay friend Roger to pretend he's in love with you?

Taylor: Well, what if I did? Hm? What if I did rent a homosexual for the evening and pay him with rare collectibles from Asian cinema? What difference does it make to you?

Ryan: Well, it's a little strange.

Taylor: Well, so am I. Which is why you ran away from me last night.

Ryan: No, it wasn't 'cause you're strange.

Taylor: What, you don't find me strange?

Ryan: No, I do. But it's not why I took off.

Hi. My name is Lily Percy. I am 25 years old and I love “The O.C.”

Much like every great addiction, with its prerequisite gateway drug and greasy foul-mouthed pusher, my obsession began after listening to an episode of “This American Life.” The pusher in question: Ira Glass. It was earlier this year when TAL was making the touring rounds, bringing their live show to cities all across the country. The aforementioned episode featured the following theme, “What I Learned from Television,” in which Sarah Vowell, Dan Savage, David Rakoff and Sir Glass himself spoke at length about what they learned/love most about T.V.

Sarah Vowell spoke about thanksgiving and the pilgrims as seen through the eyes of “Happy Days;” Dan Savage spoke about the most disturbing Disney show he’d ever seen but most memorably, simply because he broke out into the show’s theme song, Ira Glass talked about a program that was very dear to his heart, “The O.C.” whose recent cancellation/series finale had really left him thinking about many interesting things, among them how much love he felt for his wife when they watched the show together. If you are familiar with Glass then you know that one of the reasons why he (and TAL) have gained so much success and rabid acclaim is that, unlike many public radio hosts, he is not afraid to let his emotions hang i.e. to occasionally sound like a passionate and obsessed teenage boy. So when I heard him gushing about Seth and Summer and this Fox T.V. show that I had always dismissed as vapid, I, being the loyal, easily-persuadable addict that I am, immediately put the first season at the very top of my Netflix queue. And man, I’ll be damned if I didn’t sing along to the theme song every single episode

The thing is—it is a soap opera. I have no qualms about admitting this. But isn’t nearly every show, no matter how well-written or witty, essentially this as well? What makes “The O.C.” rise about the tawdry genre conventions however is the show’s core heart and storyline: The Cohen family. The premise is this: D.A. Sandy Cohen, played brilliantly by Peter Gallagher in quite frankly, the best role that I’ve seen him in years, is assigned to the case of a young teenage boy named Ryan Atwood (Ben McKenzie). Originally from the Bronx and something of a misfit himself, Sandy sees something in Ryan that softens his heart and makes him reach out to him in the most unlikely of ways—by having him come live with him and his family, and ultimately, adopting Ryan.

On paper this sounds oddly like an all-white version of “Different Strokes” but I assure you that it’s not and their intentions come off as nothing but sincere, noble and, unlikely as it may seem, completely logical considering the circumstances. You never question why the Cohens would do this, nor why their relationship with Ryan is cemented so quickly, and that is due entirely to the strength of the characters as envisioned by creator and writer Josh Schwartz.

That’s not to say that every character works—case in point, Marissa Cooper as played by Mischa Barton. My favorite season of “the O.C.” was the last one and this was due largely in part to the fact that they killed off Marissa in the third season. It isn’t that Barton is that terrible an actress—she’s not that bad—but rather that the character of Marissa embodied all of the stupid drama and angst that made the show lean dangerously close to being branded a full-on soap. Whenever her character was featured onscreen I found myself sighing, longing for the moment when the show’s real stars, Adam Brody’s Seth and Rachel Bilson’s Summer, would come back to save the day with their His Girl Friday-esque relationship.

But the main reason why I love the last season of “the O.C.” above all others is the Ryan and Taylor dynamic. After Marissa’s death, Ryan goes through a series of “personal growths” which ultimately lead him to fall in love again, this time with his complete polar opposite—the eccentric, sassy intellectual dork Taylor Townsend (played by the adorable Autumn Reeser). This is your typical case of opposites attracting but these two are such polar extremes and such complete emotional wrecks, that their budding relationship is absolutely intoxicating to watch. It is as if, say, James Dean and Tina Fey had dated each other—crazy on paper and in theory, but entertaining as hell. Ultimately, that is what makes “the O.C.” worth watching—I can’t remember the last time a show aimed at teenagers defied so many stereotypes (not to mention introduced as many bands to the mainstream public—Death Cab for Cutie, The Killers, Bright Eyes, just to name a few) when it came to its characters, with the notable exception of “Veronica Mars.” There are no standard one-dimensional jocks, nerds or sluts to be found anywhere on the show but rather complicated and complex characters that are as likable, funny and smart as you would hope your friends and family to be were your life a Fox T.V. show based out of Orange County.

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © Columbia Pictures

Ghost Rider

Night Interior: The Brooklyn Gang has joined together this evening to pay homage to the man that started it all…Nicolas Cage. Oh, Nic, your hairpiece precedes you. Tonight we’re going to enjoy Nic’s unintentionally comic stylings in, Ghost Rider. Will it be worse than Daredevil? Could anything be worse than Daredevil?

Jeanne: God this is gonna suck.

Richard: This is gonna be suckalicious! We should call this review, “Ghost Rider gave me pink eye.”

Jeanne: That’d be pretty funny although I don’t think that you can get pink eye from a movie.

The Columbia Pictures logo plays and Richard claims that the woman holding the torch is Annette Bening. Sadly, Chris asks, “Really?” He forgets that Richard is a bad, bad man.

Jeanne: He’s lying.

Richard: It’s totally Annette Bening.

Chris: It doesn’t look much like her.

Richard: You don’t look much like her.

Chris: No, I never claimed that I did.

Richard: You should be feeling bad about that, I mean, she’s a beautiful woman.

Jeanne: (Oblivious to everything) Look, it’s based on a comic!

Richard: As are a lot of movies that suck ass.

Chris: This is gonna be so awesome. (Much like Déjà vu, Chris is again the only one here who actually believes that this movie isn’t going to make us want to gouge our eyes out and run into the wilderness to die of exposure. Considering that Richard and Lily only lasted for about 10 minutes of Déjà vu I’ve got my doubts about his plucky optimism.)

The movie begins with Sam Elliott’s gruff voice narrating an opening scene set in the old west.

Richard: (Getting his gruff voiced sidekicks confused) Is this Blade?

Chris: That’s not Kris Kristofferson.

Sam Elliott, like the older, salt and peppered teacher that you harbor a giant, sixteen-year olds crush on….hmmm, AP History…oh, um. Maybe that was just me. Sorry. Anyway, he explains that every generation there’s a “Ghost Rider,” someone who has sold their soul to the devil and is cursed to go around collecting on the devils debts until he’s dead. Sometime in the Old West the Ghost Rider at that time was sent to collect on this whole evil town. The contract was for a thousand souls but the contract would have provided so much power to the devil that the Ghost Rider couldn’t give it over so he out ran the devil.

Richard: Granted, the devil doesn’t really look like he’s trying, considering that he’s standing still.

The opening credits roll. It’s some lame CGI concoction with lots of fake flames. Chris is especially unimpressed.

Richard: (Having put a lot of thought into the concept of the Ghost Rider) So it’s like the slayer: there’s always one. (Dude, does everything we watch have to come back to Buffy?! God, we’re losers.) Until she dies and they make Kendra the slayer but then she comes back to life and there are two…and Faith is somehow in there, too.

Jeanne: Dude, if we keep referencing “Buffy” in all of our reviews people are going to think that we’re dorks. (Right. It’s the “Buffy.” I’m sure that the fact that we all spend our Saturday nights on a broken futon watching movies like Just My Luck isn’t dorky at all.)

Now, to present day-ish. It’s like the 70s. Well, it’s more present day than the old west. Don’t hassle me, all right, you’d be all fucked up if you had to watch Ghost Rider, too! So we’re at a carnival and there’s a father and son doing daredevil motorcycle stunts like jumping through flaming hoops and stuff. Eh, it’s no Flying Wallendas.

Chris: (Referring to the son) Is that supposed to be Nicolas Cage?!

Jeanne: I hope not ‘cause that looks nothing like him.

A young girl watches from the stands. We take this to be a young Eva Mendes. By the time we get to the end of this movie we’ll wish that the teenage actress had just done the entire movie ‘cause, dude, Eva Mendes can’t fucking act. You’d think that next to all of the other terrible performances in this film that it would be easy to at least not suck worse but, no, she does. Well, worse than everyone except Wes Bentley. Wow, I never realized what a fluke American Beauty was. You’d think I would have realized that after watching Soul Survivors but I guess not. Note: Do not Watch Soul Survivors…EVER.

The young Nic Cage does some dumb ass stunt at the end of their show to show off for Eva Mendes and gets berated by his dad for being reckless. He then tells him that Eva Mendes is too good for him and that she won’t stay with him if he ends up a cripple for showing off. Dude, they’re both carnies. I don’t think the standards are that high when your dating base is a bearded woman and lobster boys.

Jeanne: (Already disgusted by the first five lines of dialogue) Who wrote this!?

Richard: This movie sucks ass.

Jeanne: Is that Wes Bentley?

Chris: No, he plays Black…Black…Blackthorn. No, Blackheart. He’s a bad guy.

Jeanne: Is that like a bad Care Bear?

The father retires to their carnie trailer and starts coughing uncontrollably. Richard decides to call it and say that the dad is going to die of cancer.

Chris: (To the coughing dad) Yeah, reach for your smokes. That’ll help your cough.

Richard: The Brooklyn Gang says NO to smoking!

Jeanne: Smoking’s bad folks.

Richard: You deserve your lung cancer! (pauses to contemplate his statement) Was that harsh? Was that like stepping over a boundary or something?

Jeanne: No, cancer’s always funny.

Young Nic Cage and his dad are putting up their bikes and talking. The young Nic Cage asks to take out “Grace” for a ride. Before you start thinking dirty thoughts, “Grace” is a motorcycle.

Richard: Grace is a really gay name for a bike, by the way.

Jeanne: Your mom’s a gay name for a bike.

Chris: Your mom. (laughs) You want to take a ride on your mom! Hey, let’s take a ride around the block on your mom!

Young Nic Cage meets up with young Eva Mendes at a photogenic tree on a hill in the middle of nowhere. They carve their initials, “J&R,” into the tree.

Richard: (Manically) Already I want to throw up. Look at what she’s wearing. What is up with this? This movie’s awful.

Chris: This is supposed to be a flashback.

Richard: It’s still bad, Chris.

Chris: Is she a carnie? Maybe she’s a hermaphrodite.

Richard: (Referring to young Nic Cage) This guy’s kind of a bad actor like Nic Cage so now this makes sense. (To Chris) Oh wait, you like Nic Cage.

Jeanne: Is Nic Cage gonna have a southern accent in this?

Chris: I don’t think that Nic Cage is like a world-class actor.

Richard: But you’d do him.

Chris: I never said that, either.

Jeanne: Only while he’s wearing that hairpiece he wears in this movie.

The father opens a letter as he sits in his trailer smoking a cigarette.

Richard: Oh no! That cough and the smoking equals a letter that says your cancer has spread. Dude, it’s just like fucking Beaches. Bette Midler could totally play Ghost Rider.

Jeanne: Does that mean that Eva Mendes is Bette Midler and this guy’s that other chick?

Richard: No, his father’s the other chick. I don’t really know what it means. I don’t really remember Beaches. All I know is that I had to see it because…

Chris: …to get back your gay license?

Richard: When I was in junior high school we tried to sneak into Pet Cemetery by buying tickets for Beaches and we got caught and we had to see Beaches. I guess that was our punishment.

Jeanne: (Laughing) That’s awesome.

Chris: Maybe that incident is what made you gay.

Richard: Really, you think? No, I think the fact that I wanted to be one of Charlie’s Angels when I was ten years old is probably what made me gay.

Jeanne: (As some spooky old white guy…I mean, Peter Fonda…walks down the empty streets of the carnival at night) Ooh…the devil’s come to town. (All of the streetlamp’s bulbs burst as he passes) And he hates light bulbs.

Richard: So if Jane Fonda is the devil’s sister…

Chris: As many Vietnam veterans would have you believe.

The devil walks up to Johnny Blaze in the garage with his motorcycles. He says, “Far out” which sounds super lame coming from the devil. But, as Jeanne points out, it is the seventies, we think, so I guess he’s just eternally like everyone’s clueless parents trying to sound hip with each new generation.

The devil: “Johnny Blaze, I wanted to tell you know how much I enjoyed watching you ride...”

Jeanne: Your mom!

Richard snorts a little.

Richard: (About the young Nic Cage) He should have been in The Covenant.

Jeanne: He looks like he could have been. Maybe he was!

Richard: He has that scent of gay witch about him.

Jeanne: He could have been in The Covenant and we wouldn’t recognize him.

The devil tells Johnny Blaze, in a very husky, old man phone sex operator voice, that his father is very sick. He explains how long cancer takes to kill a person and how painful it can be…but he can help him…

Richard: Don’t sell your soul to the devil to save your dad.

Chris: He’s pretty old anyways. He’s already half way out the door.

Richard: (Unimpressed by Peter Fonda’s old man looks) Shouldn’t the devil be like stronger and more virile?

The devil convinces young Nic Cage to sell his soul in exchange for his father’s health. The devil promises that by the morning, young Nic Cage’s father will be healthy as a horse. Did they not know in the 70s that the devil’s a tricky bastard. I think it would rock if he woke up and his dad had turned into an actual horse. Or maybe a talking horse like Mr. Ed. Either way it’s comedy gold!

Chris: I’ve never understood that. Are horses especially healthy creatures?

Jeanne: I didn’t think so ‘cause they’re always having to shoot them.

Chris: Exactly.

Richard: And make them into glue. In some places they eat them.

Chris: Like France.

Jeanne: They eat anything in France.

Chris: Always read what you sign…even if it’s in Aramaic.

It’s the next day and young Nic Cage wakes up to find his dad in the kitchen cooking and seeming extra perky.

Richard: I feel twenty years younger and cancer-free!

Chris: I’m as healthy as a horse today!

Richard neighs loudly. Chris cracks up.

Then, because of the two hundred monkeys that they must have locked in a room to write this crap, the father actually does start off by saying that he feels healthy as a horse today.

Chris: Oh my god.

Richard: You wrote this movie, didn’t you Chris...I fucking hate you.

Jeanne: This is worse than when I wrote Just My Luck.

Richard: What’s sad is that it’s barely even begun. We’re still on the fucking prologue. Prologue. Prologue. Prologue. That sounds funny.

Young Nic Cage and his father walk out to the garage and start talking about today’s carnie jump. His father tells him that his great dream was always to jump over a line of helicopters. Um… sure.

Richard: And then his dad dies in a motorcycle accident anyway.

Jeanne: He probably will. The devil is tricky.

Young Nic Cage tells his father that he doesn’t want to do the jump today or ever. He wants to run away with Young Eva Mendes before her dad sends her away and…um…I don’t know. Prostitute themselves to ranch hands or something ‘cause those two have no practical skills. Young Nic Cage goes so far as to tell his dad that he’d rather risk being a crack whore with Young Eva Mendes rather than waste his whole life jumping bikes in a carnival. Oh, snap!

Jeanne: You just insulted his whole life! Hey, why’d you keep him alive just to fight with him?

Chris: (Who obviously has a fucked up sense of humor) It’d be even funnier if his dad kills himself now out of loneliness. It would be even more twisted and ironic.

Jeanne: I prefer to think it’ll be like Final Destination and he’s gonna die in some really bizarre way like a penny will fall from somebody’s pocket and that’s gonna roll and tap something that’s gonna fall over and put a nick in the butane tank and that’s gonna cause a big explosion.

Young Nic Cage starts to head out of town on his motorcycle as his father heads into the tent to do his flaming bike jump alone. The feeling is ominous. Dude’s totally gonna die.

Richard: He’s gonna be like, “Oh, I forgot to drive through the fire and instead I ended up braking.”

Moments later exactly what Richard said actually happens. No, you say? Believe me, man. The guy who’s been jumping through this fucking flaming hoop for like forty years actually somehow manages to break and skid as he’s heading toward the hoop and lands directly over the flame. Okay, if you’re that bad at this maybe you deserve to die ‘cause you suck ass.

Jeanne: You wrote this movie! Dude, your dad would have lived a hell of a lot longer if you’d just left him with cancer.

Richard: If this was a Simpsons’ episode do you know what you’d hear right now?

Jeanne: Doh?

Richard: (In the voice of Nelson) Haaa Ha!

Next scene is a funeral that totally doesn’t live up to my carnie standards. No snake men or bearded ladies? No giantess or mermaids? What the fuck lame ass carnival is this?! Richard and Chris, the heartless bastards that they are, begin to mock Young Nic Cage’s mediocre crying skills. The boy’s like 15…cut him some slack. This movie didn’t have the kind of budget for a Fanning-level child actor.

Richard: Good crying, good crying. You brave little soldier.

Chris: It’s very Brad Pitt in Seven.

The movie moves to present day over a fade out with the devil’s maniacal laughter. We now see Old Nic Cage…I’ll just call him Nic from now on so as to not piss off his ass when he inevitably reads our review. Oh, you didn’t know that my friend Nic is an avid Pictures and Frames Magazine reader? Well, he is. Nic is now a professional daredevil. We come in as his bike races up the platform ready to jump an arena lined with trucks. He seems to be making it when his tire hits wrong on the landing and his ass goes flying off the bike and face first into the ground. If only this were the end of the movie. Instead, he careens to the end of the landing platform, the face plate of his helmet smashed and broken, and is rushed by paramedics but, dun dun dun, he’s completely unharmed! Fuck! Why don’t these movies end after ten minutes like we always pray they will?

Jeanne: He doesn’t even have like a gravel scratch?!

Chris: I think the devil…um…(this is where Chris begins to realize that this movie that he was so excited about will actually fucking suck) healed him.

Jeanne: This is so fucking cheesy.

Richard: This is the cheesiest thing I’ve seen.

Chris: (Suddenly remembering who the director of the film is. Something that Richard asked him before the movie started. He’s a little slow. It’s a good thing he’s so hot to make up for it.) Oh, Mark Steven Johnson. The guy from Daredevil.

Richard: (Mutters obscenities) Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ, CHRIS!

Jeanne: Richard, if you had known that before…

Richard: If I had know that I would have been like ‘NO, let’s review…um…Junebug or something.’

Jeanne: Junebug? The movie about abortion?

Richard snorts.

Jeanne: ‘Cause he thinks abortion’s fucking hysterical.

Richard starts laughing.

Chris: He just laughed! Laughter means it’s true.

Richard: True! That was my favorite episode ever of Sex and the City. That’s actually a lie. I don’t actually remember that episode.

Jeanne: I like vaguely remember it.

Richard: (Thinking back to the director or the film) Never trust a guy with three stupid names. Daredevil sucked my ass dry! This is retarded.

Jeanne: How come the entire audience is like half naked women? Is that really the audience for this?

Chris: This is Texas.

Jeanne: I know that this isn’t real ‘cause there was a black guy in the audience and, come on now…in Texas?

Richard: I hope he at least uses the same accent that he used in Captain Corelli’s Mandolin ‘cause that would be entertaining.

Chris: No, you know what’s a good accent, the one that he used in Con Air. Did you ever see Con Air?

Richard: I just blocked it out the way I do most of Nicolas Cage’s movies.

Donal Logue enters the scene playing the Steve Zahn of this movie. He’s Nic’s friend and comedy sidekick and, fuck, could this movie use some comedy…I mean, aside from the inherent funniness of Nic Cage’s hairpiece.

Jeanne: Donal Logue…what the fuck’s wrong with you? You do this…you do Blade Trinity.

Chris and Richard: He was only in the first Blade.

Jeanne: I thought he did Blade Trinity.

Chris: No, he was only in Blade.

Jeanne: Are you sure?

Chris: I know he was in the first one. I know he wasn’t in the second one.

Jeanne: I swear he was in the third one. (I’d like to take a moment to point out that Jeanne’s memory is sort of like the memory of a goldfish with Alzheimer’s and a concussion.) I remember him being in it with Parker Posey ‘cause I remember going, “I can’t believe Parker Posey’s in this…I can’t believe that guy’s in this either.”

Chris: Maybe it was a different “That Guy.”

Jeanne: Somebody needs to IMDB that shit. Richard? (For anyone who cares, Jeanne’s totally wrong, as if there was any doubt. Donal Logue was only in the first Blade. Jeanne’s memory = 0, real life = 6,000,003.)

Richard: (to Jeanne) You’re pretty.

Jeanne: Richard’s freaking me out.

After the daring, near-death motorcycle jump, Nic Cage relaxes on his bus with Donal Logue while drinking a martini glass filled with jellybeans. What? you say. Impossible? you say. I wish but it’s true. The badass, soul collecting, flaming skulled, Ghost Rider DRINKS JELLY BEANS FROM A MARTINI GLASS. We don’t even have to put in any effort to make fun of this movie ‘cause obviously it’s making fun of itself. As if the jellybeans weren’t enough, he’s also watching a howler monkey special on TV very intently.

Richard: I sort of wish that we were watching a howler monkey special. (But perhaps, metaphorically, we already are.)

The scene shifts to Wes Bentley. He’s playing the son of the devil or something like that. Eh, he wears a lot of black and too much mime makeup and when he opens his mouth it looks like Jaws.

Jeanne: Wow.

Richard: He looks so different from American Beauty.

Jeanne: He looks like ass now! Is that what happens when you get pink eye?

Richard: I used to think he was really attractive.

Jeanne: Jesus. I wouldn’t want to make out with that.

Richard: No.

Chris: Especially ‘cause you’re engaged.

Jeanne: That and also ‘cause he had like a piranha mouth.

Chris: No, see your first…

Jeanne: Okay, first ‘cause I’m engaged. Second, because I think that he would eat my face.

Chris: Priorities, though.

Wes Bentley speaks his first line, “Angels…reeaaallly?”

Jeanne: Oh, no.

Richard: Oh, Jesus Christ…

Jeanne: Did you ever see Soul Survivors?

Richard: No.

Jeanne: He was in it and he looked a lot like that.

Richard: He looks like Casey Affleck.

Chris: He looks a little bit like Tobey Maguire. He’s got that dumbfounded gaze.

Richard: Are you saying he looks gay?

Chris: I said, “gaze.”

Richard: Are you saying he looks like several gays?

Chris: Yes.

Richard: Well, you did say Tobey Maguire. (Richard then begins to laugh like a crazy person…well, like the crazy person that he is.) Vagina! [Richard’s note: Sarah Silverman made me do it.]

Jeanne: You’re weird.

We’re back at Nic Cage’s apartment where he’s gotten himself another martini glass of jellybeans. I guess just in case we’d convinced ourselves that we’d hallucinated it the first time since no one could be stupid enough to make their characters suck jelly beans up out of a martini glass.

Richard: He’s listening to the Carpenters.

Chris: He’s very sensitive.

Jeanne: And he’s gay.

After turning on the Carpenters, Nic Cage then goes on to turn on his TV.

Richard: (Giving voice to what we all were thinking) Why would he turn on the Carpenters and then turn on the television?

The answer: monkeys. He’s turned the TV to more monkey nature footage. Dude, this movie’s fucking retarded. Daredevil may have been lame but at least he wasn’t a buffoon.

Richard: He loves monkeys.

Jeanne: And he likes to watch it to the Carpenters.

Richard: And why is he drinking jellybeans out of a glass?

Jeanne: Is this in the comic? Is he this retarded in the comic?!

Chris: No.

Richard: I wish that this was the movie that Chris was like, “Shut up, guys. I want to watch.” So that I could be like, ‘Okay, I’m going.’

Chris: No.

Jeanne: You can never leave.

Richard: How long is the extended version of this?

Jeanne: Six hours. It’s like Lord of the Rings.

Richard: You licked me and I’m never going to forget it. I’m traumatized now.

Jeanne: Ha Ha! You deserved it and I hope you like it when you develop a rash.

Chris: (Just catching on) Why is he eating jellybeans out of a martini glass?

Jeanne: ‘Cause he’s fucking retarded!

Chris: Who thought that up?

Jeanne: Maybe the hairpiece is hurting his brain. He looks a little bit like Ben Stiller.

Richard: No he doesn’t!

Jeanne: In like a monkey kind of way.

Richard: Chris, do you remember when you first saw the trailer and you heard that this movie was happening—you were really excited.

Chris: No, I was sure it was gonna be bad but then I saw the trailer and I was like, this is gonna be awesomely bad.

Jeanne: No, it’s just gonna be awful and a really painful two hours of watching him suck jelly beans out of a martini glass.

Back to Wes Bentley. He’s in a bar in the middle of nowhere. He’s started some crazy killing spree and used some weird psychic evil power to suck the lives out of the bar patrons but there’s a waitress hiding behind the counter and trying not to make a sound. Unfortunately, Wes finds her and says, “I knew you were here. I can smell your fear.”

Richard: That’s not her fear that you’re smelling. (I can only assume that this is a vagina reference, which is funny ‘cause Richard has the least experience with vagina of anyone in the house.)

Jeanne: He’s so retarded looking. No wonder his career has fucking tanked!

Wes then summons some demons that hide in the elements. It’s stupid. There’s a guy in the wind, a guy who looks like he’s covered in mucus that I think is supposed to be water and some guy that’s dirty like the kid in Peanuts who’s earth.

Chris: They’re like the four elements.

Richard: Where’s fire?

Chris: Maybe Ghost Rider’s fire?

Richard: These effects are awful.

It turns out that Wes Bentley has called these demons to help him find that contract with a thousand souls that they talked about at the start of the movie. He wants to use that to gain enough power to overthrow his dad, the devil.

Chris: (Mocking Wes Bentley) You never let me have any fun, Daaaaad.

Jeanne: (Completing the devil’s sentence, “I may not have power…”) But at least I have a fucking tan.

Richard: I hate this movie SO much.

Chris: We’ve seen much worse movies though.

Richard: I don't think that can be.

Chris: Just My Luck was worse.

Richard: I think this movie was like #1 for like weeks when it came out. Um... I have to go help Lily write reviews.

Chris: You're going to sit this one out like a man.

New scene and we're back to Nic Cage jumping shit on his bike. This is like the most boring movie ever. I do wish that we were watching howler monkeys instead.

Richard: (After the camera pans the audience) That guy was at the other one.

Chris: He has very devoted fans.

Richard: Inbred devoted fans.

We go backstage to where Nic Cage is waiting before jumping shit on his bike and he's listening to the Carpenters...AGAIN.

Jeanne: He really loves the Carpenters.

Richard: Karen Carpenter is like spinning in her grave.

Chris: (Laughing) You know why? Because she has a lot of room. (Dude is totally going to hell.)

Jeanne: You guys are going to hell and this is what they play there...this is the only thing that they play there!

Richard: (Quietly) I like the Carpenters.

Jeanne: No, not the Carpenters. This movie.

Richard: Oh!

Jeanne: (Referring to Nic Cage as Johnny Blaze...or maybe just Nic Cage in general, it's hard to tell) I don't know why they made him, like, retarded. I understand making him eccentric but...

Richard: Oh my god, if I were to run into Nicolas Cage on the street I would spit on him!

As Johnny Blaze, aka Nic Cage, walks out he's bombarded by press but then, suddenly, the crowd parts, heavenly music begins to play, and Eva Mendes walks forward...no, really...that's exactly what happens. Cheesy? Fucking right!

Jeanne: And all of a sudden everything stops...the photographers stop...

Richard: (In a high pitched, husky voice that he imagines sounds like Eva Mendes) I'm that girl you left so many years ago...look at how hot I am now!

Chris: He's like, "You've developed a mole since I knew you last. You should probably get that checked out."

Richard: I think they actually had a fake mole on the chick from before.

Chris: I didn't notice it.

Richard: I totally noticed it.

Chris: (Whispers) Your mom has a fake mole.

Richard: What?

Chris: Huh?

Richard: Huh?

Chris: What?

Richard: Huh?

Chris: Huh?

Turns out that Eva Mendes is now a reporter and his long harbored crush is getting her an exclusive backstage interview with him, during which he does everything short of drool on himself and start throwing feces.

Richard: It's like Forrest Gump as super hero.

Jeanne: Forrest Gump was sort of a super hero. He could run really fast and he was wise...

Richard: Is Eva Mendes like a bad actress or is she just in a bad movie? His pants are way too...far too tight.

Jeanne: So's her dress.

Richard: Yeah, I know. It looks like it's actually claustrophobic.

Jeanne: It looks...'cause the thing is she has a good figure but somehow it's just too much and it's making her look weird.

Richard: I wonder if Donal Logue ever had to say a line and like inside feel like he's dying a little every time 'cause I feel like I'm dying a little for him. We should write a movie for Donal Logue.

As Nic Cage emerges into the arena we see that he's not jumping buses like he'd told everyone but is, in fact, jumping helicopters. We're treated to a ghostly flashback to Nic's conversation with his dad when his dad said his dream had always been to jump helicopters. Seriously, that scene was like ten fucking minutes ago. We get it, jackass. You don't need to flashback it.

Jeanne: Richard, are you dying a little inside still?

Donal Logue apparently wasn't in on the copters either so he's freaking the fuck out thinking that Nic Cage is crazy. We all agree. He starts spouting advice to him about throttle and brake and stuff but I don't think Nic Cage is listening and neither are we.

Richard: (Trying to call it) I bet that he jumps over them all and then keeps on driving out of the arena and then catches up with Eva Mendes in her van.

Jeanne: I think you're right actually which is so fucking sad.

As Nic Cage jumps the arena of helicopters we see flashbacks of young Nic and young Eva in black and white in the rain...it's so...so...cheesy. And then after the jump Nic Cage totally does everything that Richard said. If I find out that Richard wrote this movie I'll smother him in his sleep. He gets to the news van where she tries to ignore Nic Cage but he's persistent and finally manages to get the cameraman that's driving to stop the car. They proceed to have some lame fight about him running out on her when they were young.

Jeanne: I think she's a bad actress.

Richard: Oh my god! I think she is.

They fight and fight until Eva Mendes finally shuts the fuck up and agrees to dinner. This next scene is almost too fucking bizarre to explain. So Eva Mendes gets to the restaurant, sits down and orders a glass of wine while she waits for Nic Cage. Picture it, she's all dressed up in some glittery, too tight, fancy frock seated at some five star restaurant and she reaches into her purse for...for what? Her compact? Lipstick? A cell phone, maybe.... No, all of that is something that a sane person carries. She pulls out a fucking magic 8 ball. Not some tiny new compact version but a big, plastic magic 8 ball and she shakes it and she looks at the bottom. You know, I wonder if perhaps the tape was just left rolling after the end of a scene and this is actually something that Eva Mendes herself and not her character carries around. She seems a bit daft. I could see it. But anyway, I would just like to reiterate that she pulls out a Magic 8 Ball! At dinner to, I guess, divine from the heavens whether or not the evening will be successful. I so hope it said “try again later” or something. Coupled with the jelly beans in the martini glass and the howler monkey special I'm tempted to think that director Mark Steven Johnson is actually a pigeon with a little hat that someone found on set.

Jeanne: (Outraged) She has a magic 8 ball at dinner!?

Chris: She just carries it around with her.

Richard: Does she have an iPhone? I want an iPhone.

Chris: I don't think that those were even announced when this was filmed.

Richard: I hope that our biggest fans and most wealthy fans online will send the Brooklyn Gang iPhones.

Chris: Yes, I'm in agreement.

Richard: For all that we have done for people.

Jeanne: Richard, that was nice and all, but seriously she brought an 8 ball to dinner!

Chris: Maybe she carries it around all the time.

Jeanne: (Releasing her years of repressed anger at the magic 8 ball that used to tease her in school) She seriously looks for advice in a fucking 8 ball?! She's like, "He's late for dinner...let me check my 8 ball. Oh...Oh, it says maybe he'll come later."

Richard: I know. It's a stupid movie, isn't it?

Jeanne: Your mom's a stupid movie.

Richard: My mom's the best movie ever!

To the bat cave...I mean, Nic Cage's apartment. He's just sort of being slow and stupid and mumbling to himself in front of the mirror.

Richard: He's running late…why exactly?

Chris: Because he's crazy.

Jeanne: Because he keeps talking to himself in the mirror.

Back to the restaurant where Eva Mendes waits and drinks and drinks and waits and probably hugs her 8 ball and cries to herself a little.

Richard: She already looks busted.

Jeanne: She already looks drunk.

Richard: (Referring to the hot waiter) Date that guy! He's hotter than Nic Cage.

Jeanne: Yeah, she's a bad actress.

Chris: (Referring to Nic Cage with the lamest joke ever on a Brooklyn Gang review) But he's an old flame! (He begins to laugh maniacally.)

Richard: Jeanne, can I go sit next to you.

Jeanne: Okay.

Richard: Chris is scaring me.

Jeanne: (Still hating on Eva Mendes. Why can't girls just get along?) Why is she drinking wine like that? She made him pour her a huge glass of wine and then she drank it like a sippy cup.

Richard: Because everyone who made this movie is retarded.

Jeanne: Everyone down to like the last grip?

Richard: It's lit well.

Jeanne: (Laughing) Thank you to the lighting people on Ghost Rider. You made it suck that much less. Not much though.

As Nic Cage becomes later and later for his hot date he suddenly finds himself face to face with the devil! He's back. And he's here to collect. Nic Cage, being retarded and all, sees the devil, raises his arm, pauses for about 60 fucking seconds which feels like for fucking ever and then says, "You." Wow. Epic.

Richard: This is so fucking awful. I think I would have rather watched Just My Luck again.

Jeanne: Me too.

Chris: No.

Jeanne: Is he gonna make out with him?

Richard: (Unimpressed by the thought of Nic Cage and Peter Fonda making out.) That is the grossest thing ever and usually I'm all about the man-on-man action.

Richard texts Lily, "Help Me." and then checks the envelope to find out how much time he's already committed to this terrible movie.

Richard: It's two hours and seven minutes long. We still have like an hour and a half or something.

The devil morphs Nic Cage's motorcycle into this sleeker fiery bike with chains and Nic Cage's head goes all flaming skull on him. So I guess, after forty-five minutes of setup, the real movie’s actually begun.

Richard: You're now officially a tool of the devil.

Jeanne: He was always a tool.

Richard texts Lily, "Worst movie EVER."

Chris: This is not the worst movie ever. It's not good. I'm not defending it but it's not the worst movie ever.

Jeanne: To be fair, I think Daredevil was worse.

Chris: I think it was worse.

Jeanne: Although the same guy made it so it's not a good sign.

To add to the predictable cheesy scenes, as Nic Cage speeds away on his flaming motorcycle he passes a cop hiding behind a billboard with a radar gun. He stares with a stunned expression as his gun records like 200 mph. Lame.

Cut to Wes Bentley over at some building that used to be the graveyard with the contract that he's looking for. He interrogates some guy who tells him that a nearby church moved all of the graves. Then Wes Bentley sucks out his soul and kills him. Moments later, which sucks for the dead dude, the Ghost Rider shows to kick some ass. Wes Bentley runs but tells the dirt demon to stay behind and fight the Ghost Rider.

Richard: (Pointing out an upside to the CGI flaming skull head) At least we don't have to worry about seeing Nic Cage's stupid haircut anymore.

Jeanne: This was directed by the worst director ever. It's so fucking stupid.

Chris: At least it's not Kenny Luby stupid.

Jeanne: 'Cause Kenny Luby's stuff doesn't even look like a fucking movie but it's not much better. It's like "Meet the Finkelsteins." (Some insight, Kenny Luby is one of the guys on "On The Lot." I know, it's hard to believe that we're part of the 17 people across the nation who bothers to watch that show and every time I do watch it I feel like a small piece of me has died. Note: The host needs to put on adult sized clothes and surgically remove her voice box. If I met her I'd be tempted to punch her in the face. Anyway, Kenny Luby has, thus far, made a short called “Wacky Taxi” that was like a bad acid trip while watching House of the Dead and playing Crazy Taxi on Playstation. It was awful. His next short looked like a pretentious music video from some pseudo Goth band named something like Dark Moon or BloodReign or something else you'd find scribbled on a fifteen-year olds copy of Interview with the Vampire. Note: DO NOT WATCH "ON THE LOT."

Nic Cage as Ghost Rider starts kicking some ass and spouting one lame-ass clichéd phrase after another. "Hey, dirt bag," "Sorry, all out of mercy," etc. Weirdly, it's no longer Nic Cage's voice.

Jeanne: This is like Iceman in Batman and Robin. Like "Chill out." [Richard Note: ICEMAN is an X-Men Character… Mr. Freeze is the villain from Batman and Robin. Girls!]

Chris: It's kind of funny that they decided that Nic Cage couldn't voice him.

Richard: It's better to have him sound like the killer in Scream.

Chris: He just whistled and his motorcycle drove to him!

The scene cuts to Eva Mendes STILL waiting at the restaurant and drinking. What does your magic 8 ball say now, bitch!

Richard: This dumbass...woman is still at the restaurant!

Chris: No, use the word you were going to use.

Richard: No.

Chris: Use the word. Use the word.

Jeanne: What was he going to say?

Chris: He totally was going to say bitch.

Jeanne: I think bitch is appropriate 'cause bitch be retarded.

Along the way home, Ghost Rider saves a woman who was going to be mugged and does this weird soul stare with the mugger to show him all of his past evils and make him understand the horrors or some such nonsense.

Chris: The thing is this is actually one of Ghost Rider's powers. This isn't something that they made up for the movie.