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Showing posts with label Angelina Jolie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angelina Jolie. Show all posts

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Jarret's FFF: The Jowls of Being Brad Pitt


I have to imagine it’s not easy being Brad Pitt.

Of course it’s not easy being Jarret Liotta either, but there are many more perks, one of which is not having those jowls.

But I like Brad Pitt and I like his jowls, even though I don’t really think he’s that impressive an actor. I simply like that he’s out there on the edge, making the hard-hitting zombie movies that those Hollywood Fat Cats are too scared to create …

No, seriously, this is a very poor movie—World War Z—and the whole time I watched it I kept trying to figure out what motivated Brad to bother making it. I mean, of all the stories that could be told, of all the colossal creations he could have been a part of, what compelled this silly little man to make a painfully predictable, painfully over-budgeted, painfully acted zombie flick.

Don’t get me wrong (as you’re wont to do so often). I love zombie movies. My god, didn’t I just do a Blah-ugh! about them?! Hmm? … Well, didn’t I?!

Yes, and the costly creation of a worthwhile zombie movie would be, in my humble and extremely selfish estimation, a great use of American money …

But this mess …

And to make matters worse, Brad felt compelled—and you know it was his doing—to use this ugly vehicle as a demented forum to wax philosophical about the state of the world—when really all any of us want to do is see the droves of insect-acting zombies piling up the Jerusalem wall and leaping off buildings with no consideration for the drop.

No, it must not be easy to be Brad Pitt, to feel a fire to want to speak out and be a helpful example to humanity, and yet be only able to find release in the stupidest of forums … Poor Brad!

(I’m suddenly realizing that Brad is jowly, and his wife’s last name is—if said with a southern accent—“Jow-lee” … Kinda makes you think, huh!)

And that’s what the Frank Film Forum is all about—thinking. And I think I summarily bashed Angelina in a recent posting too, but to my credit, I’m far too lazy to find the link it deserves back … Or am I? (You’ll know by the end of this chant, and you’ll know right away, if there’s a link there to link … to, I mean!)

No, I guess it’s just not easy being any of us! But despite your jowl issues, a $20-million salary plus gross points certainly makes it harder to garner sympathy …

And remind me next time to bother writing something about the movie. After all, that's what this was supposed to be about too!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The Scents of Smells

October 13, 2011: I was just thinking about what an acute sense of smell I have, and how it's both a blessing and a curse. I was also thinking about Angelina Jolie and how she grosses me out, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Specifically, I was thinking about this woman I know who has the most tragically horrendous breath you could ever imagine. It smells like a decaying mouse that was left in the filthy boot of an old Irishman for seven long weeks. I've been in a room with this woman and could smell her breath from 20 feet away, that's how rippingly offensive it is, and perhaps how acute my smell is. (You see, I had to leave the room, while others stayed. Did they not smell this vile stink? Were they immune to the aromatic assault of this unfortunate woman's decaying gob?)

Cigarette stinks, bilious foods, bad breath, and the acrid, sour pew of all the awful aromas plaguing mankind are always quick to find their way up my virulent (and obviously eager) nostrils (despite the ever-increasing forest of thick black hairs that keep growing there). At the same time, however, I'm also blessed with a great ability to pick up on the subtlest scents earmarking sweet beauty -- like spring lilacs from a great distance away, or the grand, pungent smell of my wonderful decaying autumn as it sends it lithe, ancient reek out across October (and November too). You see, it's a blessing and curse and, I guess (like so many things) ... It just is ...

Which brings me to this somewhat weak Angelina Jolie movie I'm in the middle of watching called "The Tourist," featuring the perpetually hard-trying Johnny Depp, whom I like very much, despite his sometimes questionable facial hair.

In all fairness, Jolie is probably a fair actor, but she's apparently been marketed to such an absurd point now that filmmakers (probably because of the marketing departments' insistence) must completely prohibit her performances by encasing her in a series of supposedly stylish (albeit sadly sophomoric) specially staged shots aimed at making her appear alluring and charmingly sexy in some poorly contrived version of Hollywood sexiness.

Now, for starters, she is actually rather bizarre looking, and seems to appear more and more so as time passes -- a kind of botox Barbie, with a vaguely misshapen head, eyes much too big for her ample forehead, and lips that become less and less alluring, and look more synthetic, with each passing frame and hour. It's also become her trademark requirement -- and who knows, this all may be HER doing -- to shine this same supposedly sexy expression in almost every scene, as if it's all a commercial for her magnificent face, or her brand, and it's making the entire film feel like an inadequate apportionment of softcore masturbation fodder for Angelina Jolie fans (who must be a sorry lot, if the truth is to get out).

On top of everything else, I really find her name annoying ...

Meanwhile, Depp, who I've lauded here before, is making a fair effort of a rather weak story (although he's starting to fall back on some of his Jack Sparrow schtick, and probably isn't too proud of it). I wonder how an artist such as he sits through production of such a minor debacle, and whether he finds Jolie's big, bulbous lips somewhat disconcerting after having to look at them close up all those weeks.

To tie this whole Blah-ugh! piece together, we can only imagine what Jolie's breath must smell like, let alone some of her other parts. I'm sure there are fans who will enjoy speculating, but I'm somewhat proud to say that not one of them ...

NEXT TIME in THE BLAH-UGH!: "What wonderful, subtle scents might linger about Kiera Knightley at any given moment?"