Nosferatu

 

There’s good news and not-so-good news about Nosferatu, Robert Eggers’s update of the 1922 classic vampire movie:

A.  Eggers’s film has wonderful visuals and a creepy atmosphere … but it’s not very scary.

B.  The plot is faithful to the original story … but Bram Stoker’s tale has been filmed so many times that it’s now overly familiar. (Long story short: Nosferatu is Dracula with changed names.)

C.  Bill Skarsgard plays the title role … but Skarsgard is so altered — facially and vocally — that his vampire seems more like a special-effects creation than an actual human.

 

The biggest problem with Nosferatu is that it’s a long movie with too many dull stretches.

Silver linings: “Knock” and knockers. Simon McBurney, as a character named Knock, chews the scenery magnificently. Katerina Bila, as a character with nice knockers, rides a horse in the nude magnificently (below). Release: 2024 Grade: B-

 

 

Would I watch it again?  It nearly put me to sleep during my first viewing, so, not likely.

 

 

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Adolescence

 

 

Adolescence, in which a 13-year-old boy is charged with murdering a female schoolmate, has put the “manosphere” on the defensive. The problem for male-centric influencers is acute because Adolescence boasts the trifecta of dramatic excellence: acting, direction, and (apparently) writing. The British miniseries is racking up massive numbers for Netflix. It is a powerful drama.

There’s no question about the quality of the acting and direction. The show’s vulnerability lies in its script. The story implies that teenage monsters are the result of poor fathering. Or they are nurtured by social-media influencers like Andrew Tate and the dreaded manosphere. Or some combination of all three.

Critics especially like episode three of the four-part series, in which the accused boy has an evaluation session with a female psychologist (above). Surely, this woman gets to the root of the problem, right?

Wrong.

The issue is her gender. No matter how credentialled as a psychologist, she can never fully comprehend being a male in Western society.

It’s an obnoxious trait many women share, this notion that they understand what it means to be male. Men, in general, understand that elements of being a woman will always be a mystery to them. Too many women don’t seem to grasp that this mystery works both ways.

Adolescence would be more credible had it been more fact-based. The boy should have been raised by a single mother. Statistics show that a much larger percentage of problem kids come from fatherless homes.

It also would have made sense to target the dominance of female sensibilities in our schools, where boys fall behind.

Boys need more men, less feminism. It’s that simple.

 

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Speaking of problem males …

 

 

Some wag on Fox News pointed out that the image above, intended as a deterrent to gang members illegally entering the United States, could have the opposite effect.

After all, how is it punishment to have a front-row view of Kristi Noem’s backside?

 

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Still speaking of problem males …

 

The last two times I ran into problems with the censors at X both came about because I said something naughty about female politicians. My offenses: I questioned Ilhan Omar about her relations with her brother, and I told Noem she has nice tits.

Guess I need better male mentors in my life.

 

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Frivolous Fluff

 

Nice to see that Madonna Miley Cyrus Sabrina Carpenter is still entertaining the masses:

 

 

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Tim Pool was on Pop Culture Crisis and had a tip for viewers: Do an Internet search for how to say “twelve months” in Estonian.

 

 

Try it and play the sound. We dare you.

 

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We haven’t checked in with Rip van Dinkle lately. Apparently, he’s still getting fan mail mocked online by female followers:

 

 

 

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Maybe it’s a Gen Z thing, or maybe it’s a case of network “wokeness,” but good grief, reality TV is getting gayer by the day.

Once upon a time, I could watch Survivor and expect to see hot chicks in bikinis. Now I’m more likely to see some effeminate dude crying at tribal council about how tough his life is.

I think The Amazing Race has a gay quota. The show must include at least two homosexual couples, preferably married. Of the remaining males, most must either be in the closet or be what we used to call “sissies.”

If there are any raging heterosexual men in the Race cast, they must be photographed doing something homoerotic, such as last week’s challenge in which men had to wrap Sumo-wrestling diapers, er, cloth bands, around each other — in excruciating closeups.

Meanwhile, on The Traitors, male contestants are routinely filmed bathing or lounging in bed with come-hither poses.

Listen, I’m all for representation on reality TV. Gays and lesbians should be represented. But just because Hollywood is dominated by gay-friendly wokeness doesn’t mean the rest of us want to be bombarded with the stuff.

 

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I am regretting, just a bit, my high praise two months ago for Tim Pool’s podcast. I think of Pool as a political pit bull, much needed when doing battle in culture wars with the left. The problem is, once the battle is won (at least temporarily), the pit bull is still there, hungry for more blood.

Since Trump’s election, Pool’s emotional outbursts seem less vital, more petty. He and co-host Phil Labonte recently took turns screaming at coworker Elaad Eliahu on air when the topic was income inequality. I got the feeling that Labonte and Pool have dreams of joining the “one percent,” and cannot tolerate dissent. Eliahu, who pointed out anger over the outrageous discrepancy between the haves and have-nots, had to be shouted down and denounced as a “communist.”

And then there are Pool’s squabbles with local West Virginia government officials, and with left-leaning … skateboarders. And what’s up with the mysterious firings at Timcast, most recently Hannah Claire Brimelow?

Trump won the election, and, for the moment, things have quieted down in America. I don’t need or want the pit bull. I’d prefer some peace and quiet.

Then again, you never know when you might need him again.

 

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I finally got around to watching Trap, M. Night Shyamalan’s latest hit-or-miss movie (sadly, another miss).

It occurred to me that, once a film loses you thanks to its credibility gaps, you stop forgiving dumb scenes that you might forgive in a better, more entertaining film.

Trap has way, way too many scenes that stretch logic.

 

 

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Watcher

 

On the surface, 2022’s Watcher is a tough sell to the casual viewer. A plot synopsis reveals that not much happens in the story. And if you’re expecting a big surprise at the end, you might be disappointed.

But here’s the thing: As written and directed by Chloe Okuno, Watcher is a moody blast from the past. It’s a mix of two classics: Roman Polanski’s Repulsion, and Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window.

Maika Monroe plays a newlywed American in Romania who grows increasingly lonely — and possibly paranoid — as she wanders the streets of Bucharest while her husband is at work. She doesn’t speak the language, she’s unemployed, and her new life seems, well, foreign. Because it is.

But wait — is that man in the apartment across the street spying on her? And, later, is she being followed out of a movie theater? It doesn’t help her state of mind when she discovers that a serial killer is on the prowl.

I loved the movie’s callback to poor Catherine Deneuve alone in an apartment, and I am always a sucker for Hitchcock-inspired thrills. Release: 2022  Grade: B+

 

Would I watch it again?  Yes, definitely.

 

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Here’s a Thought

 

Hollywood movies are hemorrhaging customers. Here’s a thought: Stop cranking out two-and-a-half-hour movies, or three-hour movies. That’s too damn long.

 

Liberal media outlets like MSNBC and CNN are hemorrhaging viewers. Here’s a thought: Stop lying to your audience. Maybe then they’ll trust you again.

 

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I checked out a pretty good thriller the other day, called Watcher (review tomorrow). Dude who played a creepy neighbor is pictured below, an actor named Burn Gorman:

 

 

Is he not the reincarnation of the guy pictured below, Skelton Knaggs, who also played creepy characters in the 1940s?

 

 

By the way, wonderful names. Now we need an actor named Burn Skelton.

 

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I’ve had “likes” from Ricky Gervais and Louis C.K. on my X posts.

Is that a good thing, or should I be worried?

 

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Short post this week, because I am a bit sick of politics. Also, I am more than a bit lazy.

 

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“We’re gonna win so much, you may get tired of winning”

— Donald Trump

 

I used to think those words were hyperbole, but lately, not so much.

 

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Things seem to be going awfully well for Trump’s new administration. Too well? What’s the word or term for the feeling, when everything’s rosy, that things are about to take a nasty turn? Let me ask A.I.:

 

 

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Perhaps it’s true that artificial intelligence will spell doom for mankind. But for the moment, my interactions with A.I. tell me that it’s often incredibly unreliable — or just messing with me.

I will ask it something like, “Which of these six movies are in the Criterion Collection?” and A.I. will answer with three titles. I will check Criterion’s web site and learn that five of the six titles are in the collection. I will mention this to A.I. and will get a reply like, “My apologies! It appears that yes, five titles are in the Criterion Collection. My references may have been outdated. Thank you for the correction!”

This happens not just occasionally, but all the time.

 

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On the positive side, Musk wrote this:

 

 

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For my money, this is the best Super Bowl commercial. It’s silly and stupid and bizarre, but also hilarious.

 

 

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I used to pride myself on scouring the Web and finding women you might not suspect of showing skin, showing skin.

 

So how on Earth did I manage to overlook these G.O.P. babes showing skin?

 

Lauren Boebert

 

 

How could any of us forget when Colorado congresswoman Lauren Boebert, 38, got caught giving some dude a handjob in a crowded Denver theater? Presumably, after they were so rudely escorted out of the building, they went somewhere more private where the lucky guy could empty his ballsack between Lauren’s lovely legs (above).

 

 

Anna Paulina Luna

 

 

 

Her Wikipedia entry says she’s 35, so presumably these pics and the video of the Florida congresswoman peddling her bare ass were filmed back in her 20-something modeling days.

 

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It’s been an astonishing start to Donald Trump’s return to the presidency. My thoughts:

 

This Gaza Strip idea might be the one bonkers proposal Trump’s made.

Then again, he has a history of “bonkers” ideas that have eventually panned out.

 

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I am lukewarm on Trump’s executive order regarding males in girls’ sports. I agree with Trump’s move, but I’m not doing handsprings of joy. Why not?

Because for decades now, feminists have been demanding, successfully, that men give women access to every conceivable, traditionally “male arena.” They even got access to the Boy Scouts, for crying out loud.

Yet the minute an outside group (trans athletes) demanded entry to something traditionally female, we heard howls of protest from women’s groups. So yes, I agree with Trump’s ban on trans athletes. But no, I will not celebrate with you, because you are hypocrites.

 

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Vivek Ramaswamy let his inner “I was a high school nerd who was envious of the popular jocks” mentality get the best of him when he criticized American youth. Big mistake. Americans like their jocks better than they like tech companies that hire cheap employees from India.

 

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I’m not sure that the edited 60 Minutes interview with Kamala Harris is quite so scandalous as conservatives want us to believe.

I mean, isn’t it pretty much standard practice for most news shows to heavily edit taped interviews?

 

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Speaking of feminist hypocrisy … a writer for Decider decided to share her lust for a certain black actor:

 

 

I am trying to imagine the backlash if a male journalist on a mainstream Web site salivated like that over, oh, Zoe Saldana, perhaps.

Using the magic of A.I., we decided to help Nicole indulge her fantasies by placing her on the set of 1975’s Mandingo with star Ken Norton (top picture and below):

 

 

 

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I am not excited about tomorrow’s Super Bowl. I want both teams to lose. Eagles fans are the worst, and I am sick to death of Taylor Swift and her lunkhead boyfriend.

I am, however, looking forward to Bianca Censori’s nude halftime show.

 

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