A long-overdue review of Baja Fresh:

Normally, if I ordered something called a nacho burrito and got something this dry and annoying, I’d imagine I just caught an employee on a bad day. But three bad burritos in three days, y’know…there’s probably some kind of appropriate metaphor to be had in a [...]]]> Let’s dive in, shall we?

A long-overdue review of Baja Fresh:

Normally, if I ordered something called a nacho burrito and got something this dry and annoying, I’d imagine I just caught an employee on a bad day. But three bad burritos in three days, y’know…there’s probably some kind of appropriate metaphor to be had in a sport, like maybe baseball; I just can’t quite think of what it might be.

A PREDATOR sequel that doesn’t suck:

It’s frustrating the way this mystery over where they are is drawn out, because it’s unlikely moviegoers can’t predict what’s coming in a movie called Predators that has a picture of the main Predator on its poster.

So given that you already know this is a movie about humans hunted by Predators where, in all likelihood, the main characters will get picked off one by one, we might as well cut to the chase.

Nic Cage trains Mickey Mouse? Not quite:

Contrary to popular belief, the story of a hapless wizard’s assistant who misguidedly brings broomsticks to life doesn’t originate with Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe first wrote it as a poem in 1797. So it really isn’t as blasphemous as some may think to have Jay Baruchel follow in Mickey’s footsteps as a physics student named Dave, or that the long-bearded sorcerer Yensid (Disney spelled backward) has been replaced by Nicolas Cage as Balthasar Blake, an apprentice of Merlin’s who is destined to remain immortal until he can find the legendary magician’s true heir.

The summer movie everyone had high hopes for pays off:

It’s tough to review a movie when everyone you mention the title to sticks their fingers in their ears and goes “LALALALA! No spoilers!” So all we’ll say to those folks is that Inception’s a smartly scripted, big-budget action/heist movie of the sort you’d expect from the director of The Dark Knight.

Finally, KFC’s new Double Down spinoff called the Doublicious:

Doublicious definition
Makes this boy go crazy
They want the spin-off
So they make a rip-off that is lazy

KFC, see, it ain’t breezy
You can’t please me just this easy
There’s a reason the Double Down pleased ‘em
This is a cynical attempt to squeeze ‘em

Boneless wings are bullshit.

Sorry, just had to get that off my chest right upfront. Nothing personal to the heirs of the late Dave Thomas, but despite the fact that Budweiser hails the nameless “Mr. Boneless Buffalo Wing Inventor” as one of their Real Men of Genius, [...]]]> First, the fast food. Let’s talk about Chipotle Boneless Wings:

Boneless wings are bullshit.

Sorry, just had to get that off my chest right upfront. Nothing personal to the heirs of the late Dave Thomas, but despite the fact that Budweiser hails the nameless “Mr. Boneless Buffalo Wing Inventor” as one of their Real Men of Genius, the truth is that these things are a lie. Boneless “wings” contain breast meat. Only someone who has never eaten a whole chicken before could possibly mistake that for wing meat. They’re even more deceptive than the places that have “wings” on the menu but then only serve you drumettes, leaving out the essential lower part of the wing (which is better) and the tip, which can occasionally contain a tiny bit of crunchy goodness worth nibbling.

And cheap chicken and beer, the necessities of life:

But how good can movie theater chicken be? Let’s begin by saying I’ve had much worse at more “legitimate” eateries.

These tenders are breaded, fried, and frozen; then re-heated in AMC’s ovens, which are not unlike Subway’s toaster ovens. This results in them being served piping hot, and occasionally garnished with unidentified bits of blackened burning. Sound gross? Nahh, it adds character. Makes it feel genuinely oven-fresh, in a weird way.

Onward to movies. Let us discuss GET HIM TO THE GREEK:

Is Russell Brand an ironic pretentious jackass, or a genuine one? Articles like the recent Rolling Stone cover story cast some doubt on the issue…but on the other hand, the ensuing confusion arguably makes him more believable as an obnoxious rock celebrity who has not only ruined his own life, but also sucks the lives around him into his circle of self-destruction.

And KILLERS, too:

Romantic farces depend on conflict. Get a duo that can bicker amusingly rather than irritatingly, throw them into a sticky situation, and you’ve got the makings of classic screwball. The only screwball here, however, seems to be director Robert Luketic (whose Legally Blonde looks like an all-time classic by comparison), a filmmaker who takes almost an hour to disrupt this happy couple’s idyllic life with a dose of attempted murder.

I finally ate the one fast food item I’ve been wanting to try for a while:

Oh yeah. Four words no-one ever thought to put together before: CHILI CHEESE FRIES BURRITO. For those of you who just hate the Atkins diet, and every other diet.

It’s [...]]]> When the girlfriend’s away, the writer’s cramp will display…

I finally ate the one fast food item I’ve been wanting to try for a while:

Oh yeah. Four words no-one ever thought to put together before: CHILI CHEESE FRIES BURRITO. For those of you who just hate the Atkins diet, and every other diet.

It’s the skinniest damn burrito I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure. When you order a hot dog and a burrito, generically speaking, and two wrapped things show up on your tray, any educated guesser would assume the fatter one is the burrito. Nope. This is barely a burrito; it’s like a soft taquito on steroids.

I also wrote about wrestling toys:

The “Ruthless Aggression” style of wrestling figure is now seven years old. Mattel, which acquired the WWE license when it expired for Jakks, has since flooded stores with more accurate and detailed figures. At one point, Jakks could roll out any old thing, and fans would be all, “hey new figures, whatevs.” But they just unveiled the prototypes for the new “Legends of the Ring” line, which will feature classic TNA and NWA wrestlers, and man, these things are pathetic.

Not to mention a certain former wrestler and his newest stuff:

In-the-know fans are aware that there was some talk of Warrior being a WWE Hall of Fame inductee this year. Warrior says he turned down the offer due to Vince McMahon’s refusal to apologize for the “Self Destruction of the Ultimate Warrior” DVD, noting that either the DVD or the Hall of Fame offer must be a joke, as the two are mutually exclusive — either Ultimate Warrior is hall-of-fame worthy, or a self-destructive loser, but not both.

This prompted Ted DiBiase, who ultimately was the main inductee, to comment that Warrior didn’t deserve to be in the Hall of Fame. Rarely at a loss for words, the Ultimate One has fired back with a new online commentary that takes particular aim at DiBiase’s newfound role as a minister.

I reviewed PRINCE OF PERSIA, the movie:

Gyllenhaal plays Dastan, and we know he’s called Dastan, because characters specifically refer to him by name onscreen every two minutes or so. (Perhaps “Dastan” is ancient Persian for “Denny.”) Just like Disney’s Aladdin, he’s a street urchin who becomes a prince, though the process for Dastan is a whole lot quicker…the King likes seeing a little kid stand up to one of his guards, and instantly adopts him, in the manner that monarchs tend to do. This despite the fact that the king already has two sons, Tus (Richard Coyle) and Garsiv (Toby Kebbell). All of them have English accents for consistency.

And the newest Jean-Pierre Jeunet whimsy, MICMACS:

What we have here is a very fun movie to look at, and that is in no way meant to damn with faint praise. Jeunet, like his obvious antecedent Terry Gilliam, is good at making stuff that’s cool, and that should not be casually dismissed. But while he aims for the belly laugh, he misses the heart, and like the bullet in Bazil’s head, MICMACS skirts the edges of one’s cerebellum, threatening to  fully engage but never quite doing so.

Mickey Rourke on a drinking straw makes a certain amount of ironic sense. Mickey Rourke getting his own menu item at Burger King, however…I never thought I’d see that day come. A cocktail at the Frolic Room, sure. But a burger? I guess it [...]]]> Continuing my Mickey Rourke merchandise obsession, a review of the Whiplash Whopper:

Mickey Rourke on a drinking straw makes a certain amount of ironic sense. Mickey Rourke getting his own menu item at Burger King, however…I never thought I’d see that day come. A cocktail at the Frolic Room, sure. But a burger? I guess it follows when you realize that his face somewhat resembles a pound of ground beef.

Some Mountain Dew-mocracy with this one:

Before Red Bull, Mountain Dew was known as the caffeine king of carbonated beverages, and its glowing green color, suggesting radioactivity and/or Kryptonite, only added to the appeal. Quark could have served this on Deep Space Nine.

A movie review of LETTERS TO JULIET:

I get THE NOTEBOOK. Can’t say I fully enjoy it, but I get why it works. And I do enjoy me some Garner and Rowlands in most anything these days. I don’t get TWILIGHT. I don’t get most of the movies Kate Hudson chooses to make. Ashley Judd’s output over the last decade was mostly horrific to me. So maybe I am hopelessly unromantic, but I’d like to think that somewhere out there, somebody can make a love story that appeals to crying women without insulting my intelligence and standards. Until then, I get to sit through tedious exercises like LETTERS TO JULIET.

Follow that with some El Pollo Loco chicken sandwich reviewing:

The Jalapeno sandwich, comes with a slice of pepper jack cheese that is warmed enough to sweat, but not enough to melt. A minor error in judgment on that, I’d say, but the taste is still acceptable. Then there’s chipotle sauce…mmmm…chipotle….seriously, this particular chipotle sauce may be the best fast food version I’ve had, with the smoked peppers distinctly hitting the palate. With just the right number of pepper slices melting into this sauce on top of that nice big chunk o’ breast, you get yourself something that wouldn’t be amiss on a real restaurant’s menu.

I wrote an open letter to Shia LaBeouf:

When President Obama went to Europe after being elected, his critics accused him of embarking on an “apology” tour on America’s behalf. One can debate the extent to which such comments were accurate, but what is certain is that they pale in comparison to YOUR recent trip to Europe, during the course of which you’ve felt the need to explicitly, and without equivocation, apologize for TRANSFORMERS 2 and INDIANA JONES 4 (Yes, I know neither one is actually, specifically referred to in the official title by number, but it’s easier, and we all know which movies I’m talking about).

And then a review of MACGRUBER:

Originally a one-note parody of the ‘80s TV show MacGyver, MacGruber (Will Forte) as a sketch character was also a virtual update of the ‘80s SNL sketch “Toonces, the Driving Cat.” Every skit is more or less the same: a character with an alleged talent invariably screws up and kills everyone, only to return again some subsequent week and do more or less the same thing. Various MacGruber sketches have also depicted him with a gay son (Shia LaBeouf) and as the actual son of MacGyver (played once again by original star Richard Dean Anderson). The movie ignores any such “canon,” as it were, carrying over only Kristen Wiig as sidekick Vicki St. Elmo (though to appreciate the movie’s funniest line, a passing knowledge of the sketch is helpful).

Also one of IRON MAN 2:

It may not pack the same surprise as the first one, but with a half-dozen major characters and subplots, this sequel feels like an actual Marvel comic set in a superheroic universe.

…and ROBIN HOOD:

I tuned out right about the time Robin started lecturing Prince John and an assembled group of barons about a bill of rights and limited central government. Scott and Crowe should have just gone ahead and done a George Washington biopic instead.

I reviewed Taco Bell’s new Chicken Tortada:

The big signs plastered across the window of my local Taco Bell use the word “premium,” and silly me, this got my hopes [...]]]> Wow, am I behind on this one.  Should give you guys a lot to pore over, if this page is your main source for my other stuff.

I reviewed Taco Bell’s new Chicken Tortada:

The big signs plastered across the window of my local Taco Bell use the word “premium,” and silly me, this got my hopes up. “Premium Chicken Tortada”? I thought maybe this was the dawn of some new ingredient called “premium chicken.” It isn’t. It is, rather, Taco Bell’s generic “all-white-meat chicken,” which may be a technically true term, but in fact refers to orange-tinted compressed bits that are as fake in shape as any McNugget.

I looked at an amusing promotional item:

Mickey Rourke and drinking. They go together like…uhhh…Mickey Rourke and plastic surgery. Scalpels don’t make good promo items, though. They can make you bleed way too much. Which leaves drinking, something Mickey can now assist you with. No, not booze. SLURPEES.

I reviewed the remake of DEATH AT A FUNERAL, and was pleasantly surprised:

I’ve been preemptively slamming the remake on Twitter, but now that I’ve seen it, I admit that I was wrong. The new DEATH AT A FUNERAL is every bit as profane as its predecessor, but it’s a hell of a lot funnier. Which is strange considering that the plot – briefly synopsized as: “at a funeral, everything that can go wrong does” — is almost beat-for-beat exactly the same (so yes, Danny Glover shits on Tracy Morgan’s hand, in an equally gross reprise of the original’s most offensive scene; thankfully, the loogie-spit/swallow bit is not repeated). The key here, I think, is that LaBute and Rock have cast actors who are experienced at comedy, while Oz did not.

I looked at eleven selections from the recently concluded Newport Beach Film Festival:

The fact is that there are lots of film fans in OC, but few people care about giving them any kind of notice. The OC Register’s coverage is generally anemic, as is their coverage of everything else…and that other publication never ceased reminding me that they believed their readership was more interested in stories about elementary school boards than film-makers or festivals (in fairness, many of the readers who wrote letters to the editor reinforced that stereotype).

You saw my video review of KFC’s new Double Down, but here it is at Geekweek with an introduction:

With the Double Down — two fried chicken filets, cheese, sauce, and bacon — KFC is veering dramatically into county fair territory. This may not be quite at the level of the Krispy Kreme Donut Chicken Sandwich, but it’s close.

Drew McWeeny at Hitfix calls the video “The Pink Flamingos of fast food reviews.” And speaking of movies about shit-eating, I also interviewed the writer-director of THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE:

“I always made a very sick joke to friends, if we were watching television, and we saw a child molester on television, I always said they should stitch his mouth to the ass of a very fat truck-driver, it would be a good punishment for him. Everybody was laughing, and thought that was so horrible, that I thought that idea’s great for a horror film. It all started with a very simple joke.”

In E! Online reviews, I watched KICK-ASS:

In a supercolorful, slightly heightened reality, a handful of folks are crazy enough to try to become costumed heroes. Their plans meet with often disastrous outcomes for them, but hilariously entertaining results for those of us who appreciate profane and slightly perverse humor. Kick-Ass is being promoted like Watchmen, from the writer of Wanted, and while it has elements of both, it’s more purely entertaining than either.

…and the NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET remake:

When the folks in charge of this remake tell you they’re reclaiming Freddy as a more “serious” character, they’re fibbing a bit: Not just because Freddy was never as emasculated in the movies as they seem to think, but also because this new Freddy still has the wisecracks, including a couple directly lifted from the original and its sequels.

The difference here is that Freddy is now possibly a molester as well as a murderer (if indeed he was guilty of anything at all in life, which is another new potential wrinkle). This makes the whole thing more unsettling and disturbing, yes; but also makes it less easy to enjoy in quite the same escapist way as before.

A review of McDonald’s mushroom and Swiss Angus burger:

All mayo needs [...]]]> Pardon my absence. Having an actual, personal life for once means that for the first time I have to figure out how to balance it with the professional, and that’s still a work in progress.
But here’s a bunch of my stuff for you to read:

A review of McDonald’s mushroom and Swiss Angus burger:

All mayo needs in order to become something I like is a tiny tweak – add pickles to make tartar sauce, and spices to become chipotle sauce, add some onion flavor to get Ultimate Cheeseburger sauce, add I-know-not-what and you get Remoulade. But by itself, in a mini tidal wave upon the ocean of not-quite-soft mushrooms, it kicked my ass and my gag reflex. I needed the hot-sauce-spraying watch from UNDERCOVER BROTHER. But McDonald’s isn’t much for anything spicy. Damn white-people food.

A look at an unusual political T-shirt:

You’d expect shirts that sport images of Obama, as well as campaign slogans like “Yes We Can.” What I’d never have expected is one that turns an off-the-cuff remark into a catchphrase, wrestling-style (think “Layeth the Smacketh Down” or “Austin 3:16″).

Talking about KFC’s Boneless Breast Filet:

Original Recipe is a pliable term in the world of KFC. Sure, we all know what their Original Recipe fried chicken tastes like (“salty uber alles” is one way of putting it), but the chicken strips that are allegedly breaded with Original Recipe don’t taste the same to me at all. The fact that they no longer even do Extra Crispy strips is a gastronomic crime, but then, I’ve been on the Extra Crispy bandwagon since high school, possibly as a subtle form of rebellion against my father, who’s an Original guy through and through, when he’s not enjoying Hardee’s fried chicken instead.

A column about color-blind casting in movies:

When a character’s primary raison d’etre is as a sight gag, it makes a kind of sense to racially recast if doing so adds to the gag factor. I haven’t noticed any significant protests demanding that LaBute recast the Dinklage role with an actor of color. The same cannot be said for M. Night Shyamalan’s THE LAST AIRBENDER, in which characters who appeared to be Asian in the original cartoon will be portrayed in some cases by Caucasian actors. In an interview with the L.A. Times’ Geoff Boucher, Shyamalan defends his decision by saying that the characters on the cartoon are a deliberate mix of many different racial features, designed so that all kids can identify with them (he also refers it the cartoon as “anime,” when in fact that word by definition refers to Japanese cartoons, and AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER is American). Then he digs himself a little deeper by comparing racial concerns to the casting of Haley Joel Osment in THE SIXTH SENSE, in which the lead character was written as having black hair while Osment is blond.

Reviewing the CLASH OF THE TITANS remake:

Like its 1981 predecessor and other mythology-based monster epics from effects guru Ray Harryhausen (Jason and the Argonauts, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad), this new Clash is basically an excuse to string together a fun series of big beastie battles in ancient Greece. Where it falters a bit is the story: The screenwriters seem to think they can improve upon classic mythological tales, but they’re wrong.

Reviewing Tyler Perry’s latest:

Traditionally, when a sequel features the word “too” rather than “two” at the end, it means an all-new cast retelling essentially the same story, with Teen Wolf Too being the classic example. Perry’s telling more or less the same story here as well, but all the original characters return, having fallen back into old patterns after what appeared to be personal growth by the end of the last film.

Reviewing DATE NIGHT:

We all love Tina Fey and Steve Carell, don’t we? So why doesn’t Hollywood love them, too? At least enough to give them a script worthy of their talents? This halfassed (but star-studded) farce from hacktacular director Shawn Levy, in which the comics play harried marrieds on a mistaken-identity run from the mob, is marginally better than the likes of Evan Almighty and Get Smart. But not by much.

And finally, LETTERS TO GOD:

Watching an earnest, maudlin cinematic sermon of this sort really helps you appreciate the fact that Tyler Perry throws some comic relief into his theatrical tracts. There are laughs to be had here, but of the unintentional kind, as when an alcoholic reaches for his fifth of Jack Daniel’s, and a song on the soundtrack loudly proclaims, “There’s no message in this bottle!”

For my old pal Nick Schou, it’s War of the Shrimp Tacos!

So this column goes out to Nick, on the offchance he takes a road trip somewhere, and is forced to eat fast food at rest stops, where nouveau-Mexican sit-downs are scarce, but pseudo-Mexican crustacean delights just happen to be in vogue at [...]]]> From Geekweek:

For my old pal Nick Schou, it’s War of the Shrimp Tacos!

So this column goes out to Nick, on the offchance he takes a road trip somewhere, and is forced to eat fast food at rest stops, where nouveau-Mexican sit-downs are scarce, but pseudo-Mexican crustacean delights just happen to be in vogue at a couple of major chains.

For whomever, it’s a case for Why Tommy Wiseau should direct the next Twilight movie:

Give BREAKING DAWN to Tommy Wiseau.

Those of you who know what I’m talking about can probably skip the video portions of this column. For those who don’t, Wiseau is the director and star of the cult hit THE ROOM, which plays once a month in L.A. on five screens, and sells out every show. Apparently conceived as an awards-worthy romantic tragedy, THE ROOM is one of the funniest movies of the past decade, largely due to Wiseau’s inconsistent acting, bizarre accent and appearance, and complete inability to understand how actual human beings think, speak, and interact. With 20/20 hindsight, he will tell you that these were all deliberate choices designed to make you react. But then, he also claims to be American.

And why THE RED BARON isn’t worth much:

Alas, this BARON is barren, more dead than red. And while it’s often just disappointing when a movie isn’t what you’d hoped, THE RED BARON holds a particular type of disappointment – and I’m not just talking about the people who, like my girlfriend, are bummed that Snoopy isn’t in it. Frankly, given the liberties the movie takes with history, they might as well have added a flying beagle, and possibly multiplied their grosses exponentially.

Meanwhile, from E! Online, why you can skip REPO MEN:

In a chaotic near-future, Jude Law is tasked with forcibly removing artificial organs that have not been fully paid for, until, inevitably, the tables get turned and he finds himself with a replacement heart—and a lack of funds.

An interesting enough premise, but the movie is never able to find the right tone, and frankly, Law’s character kinda deserves the karmic payback he’s fleeing from.

And why you should like THE RUNAWAYS:

This movie about the first all-girl rock band wants it both ways: Yes, the Runaways were awesome, but there was also something more than a little inappropriate about putting teenage singer Currie onstage wearing little but a corset to belt out “Cherry Bomb.” And 30 years later, there’s still something inappropriate about putting teenage actor Fanning onstage doing the same. But the film doesn’t spend time pondering such things, as former David Bowie/Marilyn Manson video director Floria Sigismondi prefers to revel in the superficial