No problem with 'No Country for Old Men'

The Coen brothers consistently make the best and most unique movies in all of Hollywood. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that 'No Country for Old Men' is easily one of the best movies of 2007, if it isn't already the number one choice for some.

The cat and mouse chase that ensues throughout the entire movie is gripping, leaving a very noticeable trail of blood. Llewelyn Moss (played by Josh Brolin) finds quite a bit of money when happens to come across the aftermath of a drug deal gone terribly wrong. However, Anton Chigurh (and the Oscar goes to...Javier Bardem) is hot on Moss' heels, attempting to get back the money and restore his own sense of twisted justice.

Tommy Lee Jones is Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, attempting to piece together everything that happens, but always happens to be a few steps behind. That is, of course, not his fault and he manages to work his own way right into the heart of the situation. It would seem that this movie has a typical ending in store, but the audience is certainly rewarded when the climax finally hits.

It's a simple story that never offers much in the way of character backgrounds and motivations. Instead, the film is content with letting the audience make its own assumptions about these people. After all, little else even needs to be known and every character's actions speak loud - about as loud as a sawed-off shotgun. The mystery surrounding a character like Anton will help make him a villain that resonates with moviegoers for a long time.

'No Country' is a film that will do well for itself during awards season, and is finding more of an audience as it continues to get released in more theaters. With brilliant acting and a deadly, but memorable, game of pursuit, it will soon find its way into highly-esteemed lists. For Joel and Ethan Coen, that is all fairly routine by now.

Here's another review of the movie that is most definitely worth checking out.

The burning questions of 'Shrek the Third'

Admittedly, I am a sucker for cute things, even in the movie department. The first two movies in the now never-ending 'Shrek' series were pretty darn good. I knew the third one wasn't going to be some astounding, life-changing experience, but it was a decent way to spend an hour and a half. The jokes were crisp, and Puss In Boots always makes me wish I had a cat that stood on two legs and spoke to me (the Spanish accent is optional). I could go on and on about the weaknesses of this film, but something more important was gripping me the entire time I was watching it.

In the third installment, Shrek and Fiona finally get it on and make some ogre babies. Once I knew Fiona was pregnant, I couldn't stop getting the visual of the two of them conceiving their child out of my head. I figured I was just a disgusting pervert in the worst way. But then I remembered that there are some even sicker people out there creating pornos with Disney characters. It's only a matter of time before they start doing it with Shrek and Fiona - or maybe Donkey and his dragon wife. Really kinky stuff. I thought about finding out for myself on Google, but my girlfriend was with me and I think she would have vomited if the results turned up the way I had hoped.

So...uh, does that kind of stuff exist? Is there a "Shrek and Fiona" sex tape that's going to leaked onto the internet? If anyone knows...you know...my email address...

The poor porn addict

To borrow an idea brought forth from The Simpsons, the first billion or so most popular websites on the internet probably have something to do with either pornography or naked celebrities. That means that each day, millions and millions of men (and...women?) search for some way to gratify themselves with one of two options: straight-up porn that ranges on the fake scale somewhere near the top and the sex scenes of numerous celebrities. I suppose I could just say numerous "female" celebrities because it seems just about every female actress has bared her chest at some point to jump-start a career. To those who have not: you have managed to contain your dignity (although some of you have lost it in a myriad of other ways) and I commend you for that.

When faced with that fork in the road, the option of going left or right in terms of individualist sexual gratification, I applaud those who take the road less traveled - that of the naked celebrity. It is rare to find a movie in which a woman completely bares her naked body (if she does, it is disguised as "art") and near impossible to find terribly raunchy sex scenes between the leading lady and her partner. Therefore, on that lonely night where you can't stand to watch another Jay Leno monologue or a Sportscenter jerk-off-the-Yankees-extravaganza broadcast, you are forced to use your imagination.

Hollywood sex scenes leave a lot to be desired, which I would say is pretty much the point. Without all the nudity and sex neatly laid out for the viewer, one is forced to dust the cob webs off the old imagination and get its engine revving once again. Just what is under those expertly placed sheets? How much can one extend the scene in the mind when all we are given is a few blazing-fast humps with one or two moans? You have to be creative with this, teasing out all the possible scenarios in your mind with that one second of an exposed, juicy thigh.

On the other hand, you porn people: do we really need to see all these inexplicable acts displayed before us? Where's your creativity? Come on, can't you imagine nauseatingly loose buttholes without the aid of a video? And wouldn't it be better to imagine doing these things with a good-looking woman with, say, good teeth? That's why it is porn - it's not for the most imaginative.

Of course, for all of us who have participated in either of these options (even it was just once), we were all pathetic at some point. Sigh.

"If you need us, we're gonna be in the bedroom makin' stains"

Imagine for a moment Johannes Gutenberg and his friends strapping on dildos and staging fake, outrageous group sex for the entire world to see. Would they have done it if they had the means to do so?

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Dried-out contacts shriveling on my now-reddening eyes, a class approaching sooner with each passing second, and the idea of a sleepless night. It is 3:30 in the morning and there is hardly any feasible reason that I should be awake. There is no place more inviting right now than my bed, but there is something keeping me from it, the warm glow of my computer creating this mental stranglehold that I would not be able to get out of if I tried. I’ve found inspiration, motivation. I’ve found Stella.

A comedy trio consisting of David Wain, Michael Showalter, and Michael Ian Black, “Stella” – the name they go by – has created twenty-seven short films that can now be found on the internet. Each skit focuses on some theme, whether it is turkey hunting, the search for Santa Claus, moustaches, or friendship. I wonder sometimes about the internet and the evolution of the human psyche, considering the original reason for mass communication – spreading the word of God. I wonder this, you see, because at 3:30 in the morning I am watching Turkey Hunting, the one where the three go on a hunting trip only to end up accidentally shooting their hunting instructor dead, resulting in a scene of necrophilia between David Wain, his dropped pants, and the corpse.

This act should have produced a revolting and absurd scene in your mind, and rightfully so. How could the idea of laughter ever cross one’s mind, especially after learning that David gets raped by an angel in Whiffleball, a skit that also involves Cracker Jack boxes full of temporary swastika tattoos? This draws me in, captivates me, and, yes, makes me laugh. In the back of my mind, as socially disrespectful as it is to depict the raping of a corpse or an angel of God raping a human (rape is a common theme, as is the appearance of large dildos), it is intriguing and I want to – need to – see it. In order to better understand myself, I just need to accept that it pleases me to be watching this absurd comedy. After all, trying to understand human nature, such as the desire to watch three men constantly dressed in suits make light of suicide with farts, is hard enough; harder still is trying to convey this genius humor and its message. It is unfortunate that people aren’t willing to embrace the dark recesses of their humor (although the DVD of these limited-released shorts sells for $76 on eBay, telling me I’m not alone), settling short for pithy shows and movies with tired themes that won’t test a person’s moral fibers.

Their cult popularity, in addition to the influx of highly successful short films online, provides some sort of inspiration and avenue for us - the little filmmaking group I am a part of with my closest friends. For the hundreds or so that have seen our movies, the response has been positive, with one short film winning a competition that has now put us in another on a larger, national scale. A recent movie we made was called “cute,” especially for what we were given in terms of rules as it was part of another competition. I watch Stella, and I wonder how far “cute” gets you. When we figure to start getting into bigger and better things is anybody’s guess, and it is impossible to determine the subject matter of it all. But they have a niche, as boundary-pushing as it is, and their success reminds me of our glaring obstacle we will one day have to overcome. While what we make will never be as graphic or sexually explicit, it will be important to find an audience. Cult status even breeds TV shows, even if they only last ten episodes - a DVD that I easily purchased.

To become a stronger intellectual or to understand humanity can be done by reading the news or discovering some philosophy through a dry book written by a dead, bearded foreigner. Rather than tread through the same news and internet rhetoric – social disdain for war, rising gas prices, tragedy after recycled tragedy – the screen looking back at me is David, Michael, and Michael performing oral sex on Mrs. Claus while her husband is out delivering presents in Searching for Santa.

Did…you guys know that I have a cock? she asks, as she pulls up her red dress to reveal the staple of the Stella shorts – a large, fleshy dildo.

I do now, and I’m all the better for it.