Crack 'Em Up

Having the day off and lacking anything better to do, I decided to take in a matinee of Shoot ‘Em Up, a movie that I knew I’d pretty much have to see by myself if I wanted to see it, as the R rating excludes Scott, and it just didn’t strike me as something Brian would want to see.
So how was it? Let me start off by checking off a list of action movie clichés:

Anti-hero protagonist who is a dark loner with a tragic past and nebulous “special ops training” who follows his own personal code of honor, has several eccentric quirks, a penchant for one-liners, and is unwillingly dragged into a situation that will make him rise to the heroic occasion and will wear down his hard exterior, revealing the sensitive soul that lurks within? Check.
Twisted, evil, yet oddly charming villain with his own share of eccentric quirks played by a respected serious actor who has taken the part not just for the paycheck but for the opportunity to flex his campy muscles and leave bite marks all over the scenery with his over-the-top performance? Check.
Hooker with a heart of gold who is at least 300 times more attractive and 300 times less crack-addled than any hooker in the real world? Check.
Rocking soundtrack? Check.
Everyday objects used as lethal weapons? Check.
Acts of acrobatics and marksmanship that couldn’t possibly be performed by anyone in real life, the sort of things that even attempting to do have led Jackie Chan to break his back multiple times? Check.
Thin, yet convoluted plot – with a twist – that exists only to serve as an attempt to string together various kick-ass action sequences and to allow the audience to catch its breath during the exposition? Check.
Jon buying a hot dog and consequently getting ketchup and relish all over the front of his shirt? Check.

Seasoned with Shoot ‘Em Up’s cast, its particularly snappy patter, and the skillfully choreographed action sequences, if you threw all of these elements into a blender, the resulting puree would be a somewhat above average generic action movie.
However, if you put all of these elements in the blender, cranked it all the way up, and never turned said blender off, the result would be something much like Shoot ‘Em Up, which was not so much an action movie as it was a black comedy masquerading as – and poking loving, though not-so gentle fun at – every action movie ever made.
The over-the-top nature is so far over that you can’t even see the top. Even the standard movie connection between sex and violence is taken to an entirely new level in one particularly memorable scene.
It wouldn’t be fair to characterize Shoot ‘Em Up as a parody, simply because it was so much better than most parodies, but rather as the ultimate action movie, a pure action movie, one in which the people behind it said, “This would never work if we tried to take it seriously, so let’s just make it beyond ridiculous.”
Clearly they drew more inspiration from the work of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck than from Stallone and Van Damme.
If you don’t have the kind of sense of humor that this movie is designed for, you will absolutely fucking hate it. The whole thing is ridiculous nonsense and you’ll want your money back and will question the intelligence of anyone who found it to have any redeeming value whatsoever and you would leave angry comments on their blogs calling them names and just generally being inappropriately angry and, oddly enough, racist, even though in this case racism would be even less called for than it is in any other situation.
If you’re a serious fan of action movies, you might pick up on the fact that the movie, while being off the genre is also making fun of the genre, and that might confuse you and make you angry (call it the Last Action Hero Effect).
As for me, I liked it. A lot.
It’s totally unrealistic action that makes Transporter 2 seem like a documentary, but it’s unrealistic action that serves a comedic purpose and which is delivered with a knowing wink.
And besides that? Motörhead! (Ace of Spades played during one of the big gunfights.)
For comic book fans, I think it could best be described as the 90’s comic Nomad if it had been written by Garth Ennis.
‘nuff said.
I ended up catching the matinee at the fancy new theater in Brambleton, simply because it was starting a little later than at Regal in Sterling, which gave me a little more time to sit on my ass before getting ready and venturing out.
Of course, I’d been considering going to Regal because I also wanted to check out the selection of desks at the nearby Office Depot in Sterling (which is larger then the Office Depot in Leesburg).
Not particularly wanting to go home after the movie I ended up driving out to Sterling anyway, though I ultimately decided that if there is a desk that I’m going to buy from Office Depot (which I’m not sure I’m going to do), it would be a desk that they actually have available in their Leesburg location. D’oh!
Given that all I’d had to eat for the day was a hot dog and a box of Junior Mints, I decided to stop somewhere to get something to eat.
I went with Uno’s.
The waitress there was a pleasant woman roughly my age or a little older, who might have been really cute at one point in her life, and was still reasonably attractive, who wrote her name and drew a smiley face on a napkin while taking my drink order:



Apparently, though I don’t really see how, it’s pronounced “Shauna.”
Owing to the combination of her being kind of cute, the little napkin thing that I found rather endearing, and the simple fact that she was actually a she instead of the he I usually get when I eat somewhere (especially Uno’s), I gave her a big tip (roughly 50%).
Oh, and for the record, I did the ring check, and yes, she was married (or was simply wearing a ring in an effort to keep guys like me from hitting on her).
Speaking of which, this morning I awoke from an odd dream in which I was taking some sort of class in which I’d met an attractive woman with whom I’d hit it off. We’d hit it off so well, in fact, that it seemed obvious even to me that I should ask her out, which I did, with complete and utter confidence, with nary a stammer and without the oppressive sound of my pulse pounding in my ears.
I was poised. I was focused. I was supremely confident.
So naturally, without even pausing to think about it, she said no and then walked away.
Not even so much as a “I’m flattered, but…” Just no.
Then, just to make things baffling, right before I left she came over and, without saying a word, through her arms around me and hugged me very tightly before walking away again in silence.
I think the obvious inspiration for the dream was the episode of The Office that I watched on TBS the other night in which Dwight was similarly shot down summarily.
The confusing hug, I think, was just my subconscious representation of my inability to understand women in any meaningful way or to recognize and decode any signals they might (or might not) be sending me (a la the Asian girl at the bookstore the other day).
In any case, waking up from a dream of failure and rejection doesn’t really set a great tone for the day, though, thanks to the matinee, things did start to look up eventually.
And that’s pretty much been my day. There’s a bunch of phone calls and that sort of thing that I could have (and probably should have) made today, like to the power company, to Verizon, to moving companies, etc., but they’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.