Yesterday as part of my “good son duties” I was forced to spend time with Lola watching THE PROPOSAL, or “the new Betty White movie” as she called it.

About halfway through, she asked who the leading man was.

“Ryan Reynolds,” I replied, all swoony and replete with the love for my man Ryan, the future Green Lantern.

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me, mom — it’s Ryan Reynolds.”

“Well, he’s a good looking man — I thought for sure it was Will Ferrell.”

*record scratch*

“Will Ferrell?”

“Oh God yes — that Will Ferrell is one hell of a hunk. Him and Lee Majors.”

We seriously need to get that cataract removed.

And her head examined.

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***Dirk Mancuso Capsule Review: Somewhere in this predictable collection of romantic movie cliches there was a decent idea for a romantic comedy. Sadly, the scribe forgot both romance and comedy, as well as charcter development. (What was the point of Malin Ackerman’s 5 minutes of screen time? I still haven’t figured that one out.) If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ve seen the best parts…which should tell you everything you need to know.

1. If you could live in any home on a television series, what would it be? Karen and Mac MacKenzie’s house on KNOTS LANDING. I have lusted after that kitchen since the first time I saw it.
2. If you had a clone, what would you make it do so you could have free time? I’d have it go to work for me — I’ve had enough of that asylum.
3. Who was your best friend when you were 8? When you were 13? Age 8 – some dumbass named Mike. Age 13 – Mia.
4. If you could travel anywhere, where would it be & why? At this point in my lie, I have no real desire to go anywhere. It’s a hassle to pack and not much fun to go alone; even worse to be the fifth wheel on a trip with friends. I’d rather just stay home with the cat.
5. Would you hate loosing your sight or hearing most? Sight. I am a very visual person. Plus, you can always turn on the closed captioning to watch a movie or tv show.***Bonus (as in optional): Nature or nurture? Nature all the way. If my mother had her way, I’d be married with a dozen kids by now.For weekly TMI Tuesday questions, click here.

Now, about that headache…

I saw CLOVERFIELD yesterday at 11am and my head is still fucking throbbing. It’s not that it’s a bad movie — it’s not. It has a pretty cast (I’d blow any of the 3 male leads) and a decent story — but it also has that stupid fucking BLAIR WITCH PROJECT hand-held camera shit.

Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t get the whole “let’s-shake-the-ever-loving-fuck-out-off-the-camera-so-that-nothing-is-discernible” trend that is so popular these days. I didn’t think that BLAIR WITCH shit was scary and those BOURNE movies put me in a goddamn coma with all the jiggling. Call me crazy, label me a nut but I actually like to see what the hell is going on. And the rescue of one character had the potential to be a pretty scary and suspenseful action sequence, but instead is just fucking jiggly lame thanks to the “hip” filming.

Thank goodness the monster is pretty fucking cool.

Some very freaky shit here, folks…check it out.

I know many of you are saying to yourself, “Wow — Dirk sure was on the rag last week. I wonder if his Friday off helped his mood any.”

Well wonder no more. Thanks to the magic of blogging recaps, your questions are now about to be answered.

Friday began with an early morning showing of FANTASTIC FOUR: RISE OF THE SURFER. Don’t ask me what the fuck the title means — it’s like the rest of this piece of shit: pointless. The script (and I am using that word very generously here) meanders and sputters along, never developing anything resembling a coherent plot or making any sort of internal sense. Example: Sue Storm (the insufferable Jessica “Lips” Alba) spends a whole scene talking to the Surfer who reveals his origin in a long expository monologue. 5 minutes later, she tells him “we must stop Galactus — do you understand?”, treating him like some big shiny short bus riding alien. He just had a full conversation with you, bitch — do you understand? As if that weren’t bad enough, director Tim Story goes ape-shit with the close-ups and is incapable of handling any scene with more than 2 people (they all just end up standing around). The one bright spot was seeing uber-hottie Ioan Gruffudd as Mr. Fantastic. Look at this sizzling piece of man-candy:

After the movie it was home again home again jiggety jig. Following a light lunch, I decided to cleanse my cinematic palette with something else and shagged my ass to the video store. Imagine my horror when I stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk where I nearly planted one of my dainty size 12’s smack dab in the middle of a dead squirrel.

It bears noting here that I have a morbid fear of a) dead things, b) rabies, and c) getting shots — which go in your stomach if they think you have rabies. Now imagine all of that mulitiplied times the shock of nearly squishing the poor little bastard with my foot. Ick to infinity, right? So I did what any card carrying nancy boy would do: I let out an ear piercing shriek, jumping back on one foot (my other leg raised, bent and slightly twisted to shield my naughty bits) as I did the “ew! ew! ew!” jazz hands routine.

As luck would have it, at precisely that moment some Mushmouth looking fuck was also entering. “Dude, you buscream like uh-ba little bubitch.”

Seriously, you’re wearing a knit stocking cap in 90+ degree weather and you’re calling me on my shit? Step off, fella.

Finally calming down enough to go inside, I made a huge detour around the the nut gathering corpse. But as you should know by know, my patented Dirk Mancuso curiosity kicked into hyper drive and I had to sneak just one more peek in an attempt to C.S.I. the scene. And as I Gus Grissom-ed the evidence, that’s when I realized something…it wasn’t a dead squirrel at all. It was a stupid fucking plastic dinosaur.

Now totally humiliated, I dashed inside, grabbed BREACH (Laura Linney so rocks in anything) and dashed out before Mushmouth could tell any more customers about the flamer doing the dance of the 6 veils and a pot holder over a child’s prehistoric plaything outside.

During the film, I had 4 — or was it 5? — Captain Morgan’s with just ever the most raspy whisper of Coke, which led to me getting a wee bit buzzed. Which always leads to drunk dialing. Except this time when I went to get my cell, I saw that the computer was on. At that moment I realized if drunk dialing was fun, drunk blogging and drunk IM-ing would totally kick drunk dialing’s ass to the curb. It was on!

Needing to do my Saturday post, I copied off the TMI Tuesday questions and answered them. No big deal. (Except when it came to the bonus question I answered a little more forthrightly than I normally might have, and that has led to some supposition as the to the gentleman’s identity both in comments and via mail. Suffice it to say that no one has guessed correctly and that most of you are assuming that the blogger in question is on my blogroll and/or that I comment on his blog. I am not confirming or denying but there is also the school of thought which says he’s just my secret blog find and I intend to keep him that way…)

Not content with shooting my mouth off via this forum, I decided to check the old personal ads mailbox.

Nothing.

You know how they say liquor gives you courage? It’s true. Seeing no message from Personal Ad Guy, I decided at that moment to send an IM. Only I was a little too buzzed to think of what to say…so I called Dr. Sparky who had done a post-date analysis and declared there to be potential. Except he was at a party — living his own life or some other bullshit excuse — and not answering my very important calls, thus leaving me to my own devices. Oh, how I fretted over what to say. Then I poured another drink and as the alcohol flowed, it seemed as though equal parts inspiration and courage did as well. I typed my message in the box and sat staring at it:

“Had a good time at coffee and enjoyed meeting you. Maybe we could have dinner or take in a movie sometime if you’d be interested.”

Realizing the only thing I had to lose was any last shred of dignity I might have, I clicked send. Then I called Dr. Sparky and left a message telling him what I’d just done. Of course, then he calls back, approving my actions. I felt better.

I’d feel even better if PAG would at least say yay or nay, but in all likelihood, he’ll never respond at all. Oh well, for better or worse I exposed myself to humiliation and rejection tried.

Ugh. I can’t believe you made me dredge all that up.

Bastards.

If you haven’t seen these yet, get them in your Net Flix queue. Seriously, this is some good shit.

If you haven’t seen this one, prepare for one humdinger of an eye rolling reveal in the final minutes.

And I don’t mean that in a good way.

Whilst I spend a little time making this place liveable, why not take in a movie?

I enjoyed this one muchly.

(And by the way, how gorgeous is Cate Blanchett’s hair? It looks so soft…)

Uncle Dirk’s Video Round-Up is a thing of the past, but I wanted to recommend a few titles that everyone should check out.

First up, THE ILLUSIONIST. I was a bit wary about this one. Yes, it has Edward Norton and the always delicious Rufus Sewell, but it also features 7th HEAVEN’s Jessica Biel. Oh sure, she was in the timeless classic STEALTH, and as Mary Camden she displayed acting chops to rival those of Miss Bette Davis but she still seemed out-classed by her leading man. However, I am pleased to say that she actually acquits herself quite nicely here, avoiding that whiny, pouty quality I have often associated with her work. Beautiful sets, atmospheric cinematography, and good performances elevate this adult blend — i.e. not dumbed down for the MTV crowd — of romance, magic, mystery, and political intrigue into something above the regular video fare.

Next up is a pair of profoundly disturbing documentaries, PARADISE LOST: THE CHILD MURDERS AT ROBIN HOOD HILLS and PARADISE LOST 2: REVELATIONS. When the bodies of three 8-year-old boys are found in a creek, the city of West Memphis, Arkansas charges 3 teen-agers with the crimes. The most damning evidence against the teens? Their love of heavy metal music and black clothing and an interest in the Wicca religion.

These films give a pretty chilling view of a legal system so fucked up that questionable taste in clothing and music is grounds for being charged with murder. And it’s even more incomprehensible when another viable suspect — one of the murdered boys’ stepfather — provides more than a few compelling reasons for further investigation, yet no one seems willing to look beyond the suspects on trial. The stepfather in question, Mark Byers, is a huge focus of the second documentary and if he isn’t nine kinds of crazy, then I don’t know who is. He may very well be the single scariest, goosebump inducing, check under the bed before you crawl under the covers nightmare fodder since a certain Texan president.

In an era when we give damn near anybody a walk after a couple of years in the pokey, it’s unthinkable that 3 young men could be serving life sentences for crimes that they may not be guilty of and have been denied retrials to prove either their innocence or at least reasonable doubt. And justice for all…

Not in Arkansas, it seems.

Okay kids, this week I watched something I wanted to see in the theater but missed: TRANSAMERICA and all I have to say is Felicity Huffman was fucking robbed of the Oscar. Yeah, the movie has its flaws but goddamn, members of the Academy, all Reese Witherspoon did was dye her hair and do the same thing she does in every movie: be cute and perky. And before the hate mail floods in, I’m not slamming the Witherspoon-er…I like her a lot and I loved LEGALLY BLONDE but let’s face it, folks, she’s not a real “actress” actress. I saw half of WALK THE LINE and that performance just hurt. A lot.

I mean seriously, June Carter was homely. Home. Lee. And Reese just came in looking all pretty as ya please with the little southern accent and flouncy skirts. I mean what the fuck? Suffer for your craft a little, bitch. Charlize Theron is a beautiful woman and she skankified her ass up something fierce to win the Oscar for MONSTER. No lie…she scared my ass so bad, I grabbed my rape whistle from under my shirt and blew it every time she looked at the camera. That, my dear Reese, is acting.

And that is what Felicity Huffman did in this movie. While not a ravishing beauty, she does have her quirky charms and I’ll be damned if she didn’t throw pride to the wind and just go for it. She wasn’t afraid to be muey unattractive or look like forty miles of hard road. No sirree Bob…she was all about earning her paycheck, not coasting on the good will of playing a dead woman. Reese, you are cute and charming and adorable as a newborn kitten but honey, you haven’t got the acting chops of fucking Big Bird. At least not compared to one Ms. Felicity Huffman.

Goddamn, I wish the Oscars had do-overs.
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A special post-script to all you lurkers: Did you not understand yesterday’s post? It is a guessing game, folks. That means it is a game where you post your guess via comments. So get to it and vote…I don’t post this shit for my health. And if I don’t see some active participation, I may not post the answers tomorrow either. See how a few can ruin it for the whole group? Yes, I am talking to you, Anna, IL and you, Redondo Beach, CA. And you can quit snickering over there, Silver Spring, MD. Keep it up and I will turn this whole blog around and we’ll all go home.

Howdy, everybody! Your ol’ Unca Dirk has a little something for everybody this week: laughs, romance, and office politics. Let’s get started, shall we?

First up, BENCHWARMERS. Okay, I’ll admit it: I only rented this because it had NAPOLEON DYNAMITE star John Heder in it and I think he is so adorable. Yeah, I rent shit for reasons like that — what about it? Anyway, this one is about three men (Rob Schneider, David Spade, and Heder) who have been bullied all their lives and decide to stick up for the underdogs by sticking it to the adolescent jocks by beating them in a baseball tournament. By no means worth owning, it is still a pleasant 90 minutes of harmless fun, mostly because of Heder and Nick Swardson as Howie (you may know Swardson as Terry, the roller skating gay hustler on Reno 911). Lots of crude bodily function humor and sexual innuendo so those of you with kids you may not approve (see? I’m using my blog to provide a service here as part of that “it takes a fucking village” thing). Favorite line: “Haha! That’s funny I didn’t know ath-e-letes had three syllables… thats ama-za-zing.”

Next, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE starring Keira Knightly, Matthew MacFadyen Yet another Jane Austen adaptation. This one was loaned to me by a co-worker and I must admit I was less than thrilled with the notion of having to watch something I would be asked about later. Too much like homework. The first time I turned it on, I promptly fell asleep. The second time, I wandered off to practice immitating Keira Knightly’s underbite and affected speech in the mirror and ended up missing a half hour of so. The third time, however, proved to be the charm. Yes, I know the BBC with Colin Firth is considered to be THE definitive version but I’ve never thought he was all that sexy of a Darcy (I know…BLASPHEMY!), however I actually preferred this version — and MacFadyen’s Darcy. Sexy bloke that MacFadyen. Bangs did a crackerjack job of covering up Knightly’s rather sizeable forehead but the frightening underbite was in full show. Yet, I did get swept up in the love story and managed to move past her jawline for most of the film. As always, I would prefer to see Elizabeth and Darcy madly in love but tragically seperated forever by his marriage to Lady Catherine’s daughter, but I suppose there is an audience for that unbelievable happily ever after shit. (And yes, I know that would be altering the book’s original ending, but since the film-makers had already taken some liberties, why not take one more and create a heart-breaking realistic romance?)

Finally, an actual film review: THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA starring Anne Hathaway as a naive midwestern girl who moves to the big city and lands a job at leading fashion magazine as an assistant to the world’s worst boss, Miranda “yes, move at a glacial pace…you know how that thrills me” Priestly, played by Meryl Streep. I had read the book and thought it was a trifle padded with a bit too much about Lauren Weisberger’s (boring) personal life, so I figured the film would focus on the horrors inflicted upon her by Miranda. And it did. For about the first 40 minutes. Then the film sort of meandered until it finally…just…ended. The biggest mistake, for me, was in making Hathaway’s character, Andrea, such a pitch perfect goody-goody and eliminating her passive-aggressive behavior in reaction to her treatment. Further damage was done in trying to make Miranda sympathetic. Yeah, I know Streep is a great actress — and she nails this one dead on — but that’s not what the character was about. She was literally the devil incarnate in the work place and humanizing her really undercut any investment I had in seeing Andrea triumph over her. Hathaway, as always, is a mixed bag for me. There is something so intensely likeable about her, but BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN excepted, I always feel as though it is the same performance/same character. And someone really needs to talk to her about wearing bright red lipstick that arrives onscreen about 30 seconds before she does. The girl is just too pale for that shade and she wears it in damn near everything I see her in — even in magazine pics. Hathaway is servicable in the role, but when I read the book, I had pictured Rachel McAdams or Alexis Bleidel. The real stand-out performance — besides Streep — is Emily Blunt as Emily. She steals every scene she is in. If there is any justice, look for her to be a big star. As for Stanley Tucci as Nigel…what can I say? Not only is he talented, but he is also one of the sexiest men in Hollywood. Adrian Grenier as Andrea’s boyfriend…all I got to say is damn, that man has a sexy fucking mouth and accompanying stubble. mmm-mmm-MMMMM! The one bit of miscasting was Simon Baker as Christian. Too old for the role, and um…it’s never a good idea to get highlights that make your teeth take on the hue of butter. Just sayin’. The film’s ending was also rather lacking…perhaps the film’s speech by Miranda combined with the book’s fashion show would have proven to be a more effective show stopper. All in all, I’d call it an okay time but nothing most people will remember in a week.

Well, that’s it kids. And so the countdown begins until the opening of what I think will be THE movie of the summer: SNAKES ON A PLANE. Forget capes and pirate shit…we got some muthafucking snakes on this muthafucking plane! And Juliana Margulies. Is that Oscar I smell?

Peace out, kids.