(no subject)
So we saw WATCHMEN last night. Due to much clusterfuckery we didn't get to the midnight premiere, but seeing it the next day is just as good!
First up, we went to Dinner to celebrate Mary going back to school. Burgers = AWESOME
Review bought to you in letter form.
Dear Trailers.
I don't want to see dumb movies about hangovers. I don't want to see Christian Bale in ANYTHING. I don't want to see FEAR IN SPACE. So fuck you for all of a sudden making me OMGS WANT TO SEE ALL OF THOSE MOVIES
Disappointed in my resolve,
Me.
~
Dear Patrick Wilson
I could sit here and talk about your fine, fleshly, ronch-able ass. Instead, I will talk about you being born to play Dan Dreiberg. Oh you geeky, bird-obsessed, so impotent jew. You are the best thing to happen to regular people since...everything. You were perfect. Beyond perfect. Every little self-depreciating gesture, every twitch and duck and nod, the way you held yourself in the suit and every little smile was JUST PERFECT.
All the love in the world,
Me.
~
Dear Softcore Sex Scene
Um. Wow. Really milking that R rating, aren't we? Poor Archie. He'll never be the same. I admire you, Snyder, for sneaking a porno into a blockbuster movie. It was...needed and tasteful, I think, but porn nonetheless. Also, Patrick Wilson's fine fine ass.
Slightly turned on,
Me.
~
Dear Jeffrey Dean Morgan
I have loved you for years, it's true. You were Daddy Winchester, and then Dead Daddy from Weeds. You're gorgeous, and talented, and an all around nice guy. However. You were playing, in this movie, my absolute favourite character from my absolute favourite comic. I knew you would be good, but I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary.
You were hands down the best part of the movie. The Comedian is hard enough to feel sorry for in the book, but actually seeing you do those AWFUL things on the big screen, and yet still have my heart break for you? Holy jesus. There are no words for how much I love you right now. Thank you for sticking with acting. (Also, Snyder, you DODGED A BULLET by leaving in the scene on Moloch's bed.)
Still astounded,
Me.
~
Dear Malin Ackerman
I hate Laurie. I have always hated Laurie, since the first time (out of...12, now?) I read the book. She's shallow, whiney, flaky, and irritating. Thanks to your performance in the film, I now adore her. Relate to her. Sympathize with her. LOVE HER. How did you do this? How were you SO good while playing an awful petulant sob-story?
In shock,
Me.
~
Dear Billy Crudup
See above. How. HOW? I don't like you, I don't like Jon. Yet every little inflection, little touch, the way you carried yourself and the way you took on Jon just broke my heart. I believed you.
In huge swinging penis.
Me.
~
Dear Jackie Earl Haley
You have a great name. You do. Three first names, awesome! You and Jeffrey Dean Morgan win! But here's the thing. You've been found out. You're Rorschach. I know it. Everyone that goes to see the movie will know it. Don't think you're fooling anyone, Kovacks, we know the truth.
In awe of your tiny asskickatude,
Me.
~
Dear Carla Gugino and everyone who played the Minute Men
Marry me.
~
Dear Matthew Goode
I was worried about you. You made a lot of changes, took a lot of liberties. You really thought about Ozy in terms of his motivation, his past, where he came from and how he would validate what it was that he was going to do. I respect that. But I was worried. Worried about the feminine aspect, the accent, the backstory.
I apologize. I take back every concern I might have had concerning your Ozymandias. I take it all back. In fact, I bow at your feet. And don't think I missed the file on your computer labeled BOYS.
Wishing I had your accent,
Me.
~
Dear Hollis Mason and Bubastis.
More of you in the Director's cut, pls.
In heartbreak,
Me.
~
Dear The Soundtrack.
NICELY DONE! Very nicely done! Everything was perfect, and really helped age the movie and bring us through every time change. Unforgettable over the Comedian's death scene and The Sound Of Silence at his funeral was especially poignant. Hallelujah over the sex montage was a little...corny, but then again it was a scene portraying the fetishistic nature of those that wear the capes and cowls, so I'm quite happy with it. And as Mary said, props for the Leonard Cohen version.
Listening to Dylan for the first time in years,
Me.
~
Dear Snyder
You dodged a bullet. No, you made like Ozy and you CAUGHT the bullet. I am now a convert, and I shall worship at the Alter of Snyder. You took on one hell of a project, and you took a hell of a chance with changing it. But...you did good. You did REALLY good. Everything you did, you did with love and respect for the source material. You are a fan, and the film is a tribute. You changed the ending...but it had the same result, and I can respect that. Yes, the new ending was much better than the VAGINA SQUID OF SQUISHY DOOM. I liked it. I LOVED IT. I caught every single nod you put in to the fans of the book, which was at a rate of one per scene. Now go on. Go out there, go into the world, and show people how fans make movies.
And yes, I saw you standing behind the Comedian with Clay Enos as you torched the Vietnamese. And I caught the 300 on Eddie's door. You beautiful, smug bastard.
Now a solid fan,
Me.
~
Dear Alan Moore.
Put down the sock puppet, pick out your best velvet bowler hat, and go see the movie. You may be surprised. Take Neil Gaiman with you, he seems to be a calming influence.
With fear and respect,
Me.
~
Dear me.
Wanna go see it again tomorrow?
Yes, yes I do,
Me.
First up, we went to Dinner to celebrate Mary going back to school. Burgers = AWESOME
Review bought to you in letter form.
Dear Trailers.
I don't want to see dumb movies about hangovers. I don't want to see Christian Bale in ANYTHING. I don't want to see FEAR IN SPACE. So fuck you for all of a sudden making me OMGS WANT TO SEE ALL OF THOSE MOVIES
Disappointed in my resolve,
Me.
~
Dear Patrick Wilson
I could sit here and talk about your fine, fleshly, ronch-able ass. Instead, I will talk about you being born to play Dan Dreiberg. Oh you geeky, bird-obsessed, so impotent jew. You are the best thing to happen to regular people since...everything. You were perfect. Beyond perfect. Every little self-depreciating gesture, every twitch and duck and nod, the way you held yourself in the suit and every little smile was JUST PERFECT.
All the love in the world,
Me.
~
Dear Softcore Sex Scene
Um. Wow. Really milking that R rating, aren't we? Poor Archie. He'll never be the same. I admire you, Snyder, for sneaking a porno into a blockbuster movie. It was...needed and tasteful, I think, but porn nonetheless. Also, Patrick Wilson's fine fine ass.
Slightly turned on,
Me.
~
Dear Jeffrey Dean Morgan
I have loved you for years, it's true. You were Daddy Winchester, and then Dead Daddy from Weeds. You're gorgeous, and talented, and an all around nice guy. However. You were playing, in this movie, my absolute favourite character from my absolute favourite comic. I knew you would be good, but I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary.
You were hands down the best part of the movie. The Comedian is hard enough to feel sorry for in the book, but actually seeing you do those AWFUL things on the big screen, and yet still have my heart break for you? Holy jesus. There are no words for how much I love you right now. Thank you for sticking with acting. (Also, Snyder, you DODGED A BULLET by leaving in the scene on Moloch's bed.)
Still astounded,
Me.
~
Dear Malin Ackerman
I hate Laurie. I have always hated Laurie, since the first time (out of...12, now?) I read the book. She's shallow, whiney, flaky, and irritating. Thanks to your performance in the film, I now adore her. Relate to her. Sympathize with her. LOVE HER. How did you do this? How were you SO good while playing an awful petulant sob-story?
In shock,
Me.
~
Dear Billy Crudup
See above. How. HOW? I don't like you, I don't like Jon. Yet every little inflection, little touch, the way you carried yourself and the way you took on Jon just broke my heart. I believed you.
In huge swinging penis.
Me.
~
Dear Jackie Earl Haley
You have a great name. You do. Three first names, awesome! You and Jeffrey Dean Morgan win! But here's the thing. You've been found out. You're Rorschach. I know it. Everyone that goes to see the movie will know it. Don't think you're fooling anyone, Kovacks, we know the truth.
In awe of your tiny asskickatude,
Me.
~
Dear Carla Gugino and everyone who played the Minute Men
Marry me.
~
Dear Matthew Goode
I was worried about you. You made a lot of changes, took a lot of liberties. You really thought about Ozy in terms of his motivation, his past, where he came from and how he would validate what it was that he was going to do. I respect that. But I was worried. Worried about the feminine aspect, the accent, the backstory.
I apologize. I take back every concern I might have had concerning your Ozymandias. I take it all back. In fact, I bow at your feet. And don't think I missed the file on your computer labeled BOYS.
Wishing I had your accent,
Me.
~
Dear Hollis Mason and Bubastis.
More of you in the Director's cut, pls.
In heartbreak,
Me.
~
Dear The Soundtrack.
NICELY DONE! Very nicely done! Everything was perfect, and really helped age the movie and bring us through every time change. Unforgettable over the Comedian's death scene and The Sound Of Silence at his funeral was especially poignant. Hallelujah over the sex montage was a little...corny, but then again it was a scene portraying the fetishistic nature of those that wear the capes and cowls, so I'm quite happy with it. And as Mary said, props for the Leonard Cohen version.
Listening to Dylan for the first time in years,
Me.
~
Dear Snyder
You dodged a bullet. No, you made like Ozy and you CAUGHT the bullet. I am now a convert, and I shall worship at the Alter of Snyder. You took on one hell of a project, and you took a hell of a chance with changing it. But...you did good. You did REALLY good. Everything you did, you did with love and respect for the source material. You are a fan, and the film is a tribute. You changed the ending...but it had the same result, and I can respect that. Yes, the new ending was much better than the VAGINA SQUID OF SQUISHY DOOM. I liked it. I LOVED IT. I caught every single nod you put in to the fans of the book, which was at a rate of one per scene. Now go on. Go out there, go into the world, and show people how fans make movies.
And yes, I saw you standing behind the Comedian with Clay Enos as you torched the Vietnamese. And I caught the 300 on Eddie's door. You beautiful, smug bastard.
Now a solid fan,
Me.
~
Dear Alan Moore.
Put down the sock puppet, pick out your best velvet bowler hat, and go see the movie. You may be surprised. Take Neil Gaiman with you, he seems to be a calming influence.
With fear and respect,
Me.
~
Dear me.
Wanna go see it again tomorrow?
Yes, yes I do,
Me.