May 2011
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Movie Review : The Hangover : Part ll
The Hangover Part 2
  If “The Hangover: Part II” filmmakers studied the success of bacon, or even sausage, they might have found the missing link between comedy and crotch shots: moderation.
Americans love bacon – inside omelets, nestled between lettuce and tomato, atop cheeseburgers and driving cop cars. It’s a complementary item, a scrumptious second stage staple, a subtle tribute to our meat-eating caveman pedigree.
But “The Hangover” sequel comes at us like a big ole side of pork – cured, fried, sliced into strips and piled high into a crispy, greasy mess. The innocence – I say that relatively – of the predecessor is lost among the sequel’s full-frontal onslaught of micropenisia (an actual medical condition) and overexposed Bangkok lady boy shots that linger in front of the lens way too long.
 Director Todd Phillips & Co. take the Costco approach to their sequel: more is better. And much the same way that at least a couple dozen ounces of blue cheese in that plastic industrial drum will spoil before you can eat 1,000 wings, the gunshot wounds, blow snorts and Mike Tyson tattoos ultimately go to waste in “Hangover 2.”
I don’t think I need to offer up a 30-second summary of a movie that grossed over $30 million on opening day, but here it is. The wolf pack – fratty Phil (Bradley Cooper), emasculated Stu (Ed Helms) and enigmatic Alan (Zach Galifianakis) meet up again for Phil’s nuptials in Thailand. They pledge no craziness, no bachelor party. They had their fill after their drug-fueled, sex-crazed black out in Vegas two years ago. But of course, stuff happens.
Sooner than later, they’re peeling themselves off a cheap Bangkok flophouse floor minus several companions and plus one monkey. Gags, chases, phone calls, nervous shots of the waiting bride to be all ensue – all recreated to match the original. “The Hangover: Part II” isn’t so much a sequel as it is a translation – a translation for those who prefer to drink up their humor garnished with a groin kick and a mid-coitis choke instead of a wink and a nod. Bottoms up.
All of this doesn’t matter. If you don’t see this movie at the theater, you’ll see it at home; it is a decent hangover movie. And no matter what we say, “The Hangover: Part II” will bring home the bacon.
“The Hangover: Part II,” checking in at 101 minutes and rated R, is now playing nationwide. Mike gives the movie 2 out of 4 stars.
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TechCybo is a popular how-to blog Founded in 2010 Tips and Tricks for living better in the digital age
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TechCybo is a popular how-to blog Founded in 2010 Tips and Tricks for living better in the digital age
Pirates Of The Caribbean On Stranger Tides
Johny depp
The latest installment of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" franchise opens this weekend. Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly magazine filed the following review.
The previous "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies should have cut down on the ghoulishly hyperkinetic CGI and nonsensicalplotting. Now, the newest entry, "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides," has little in the way of jousting skeletons, acid-trip desert dream sequences, or over-the-top plot twists, and frankly, it could have used more excessive CGI and nonsense.
Basically, the entire film consists of Jack Sparrow, the dreadlockedrummy pirate played by Johnny Depp, traveling aboard the rotting death ship of the sinister Blackbeard, all to reach the Fountain of Youth. Jack is now the focal point of every scene, and he ticks off the story point by point instead of standing to the side lobbing little verbal bombs at it. Depp's delivery is still amusingly sozzled, but the performance has lost any trace ofsurprise. The more Jack says, the less funny he is.
On Blackbeard's ship, there's a mutiny, which doesn't lead anywhere of note, and after a while there's a mermaid, who captures all the interest of a model in a French perfume commercial. There's also a great deal of turgid scene-chewing devoted to whether Jack's "feisty" new love interest, playedby Penelope Cruz, is actually Blackbeard's daughter.
Eventually, everyone gets to the lush green island, and then very little happens. Will Jack, at gunpoint, take a flying leap off a giant cliff? Will the Fountain of Youth actually work? The director, Rob Marshall, has a singular knack for stripping questions like these of even theirmost basic propulsive interest.
"On Stranger Tides" isn't nearly strange enough. Its one real act of piracy is stealing away your excitement.