New Movie Reviews

20 FEET FROM STARDOM – Aka…The Help 2

Given the fact that your humble reviewer, Old Dan Cedar, loves Rock and Roll, Gospel, Rhythm and Blues, but mostly 80's British fag synth pop…and is always ready for a well done story that explores something that I find magical - In this case, the greatness of background singers in The Rock and Roll Music - Old Dan always, well, almost always, loves The Documentary Movie Style. The problem is…where ‘Seinfeld’ was ‘a story about nothing’ that worked. ‘20 Feet From Stardom’ has all of the ingredients to make a ‘story about something’ work.

It, instead, becomes a story about too much shit…that doesn’t work.

The Rock and Roll Music is one of the three things in this world that keeps Old Dan from ‘borrowing’ one of King Hippo’s massive arsenal of handguns and setting Hippo up as the fall guy…with Hippo citing my over-editing of his ‘works of art’ movie reviews. Thus relieving the world of any chance that Hippo will continue writing Sarcastic Movie Reviews after I am gone, and hopefully putting him in Shawshank for the rest of his glum life. This would also lift your humble reviewer to the status of The Edgar Allan Poe. What with, the dying somewhat young and depressed.

Well, there is a damned good reason that Old Dan is depressed. It’s this godforsaken slapped together piece of shit of a movie. Now, when ’20 Feet From Stardom’ wins The Best Documentary Oscar next February, I don’t want to hear any of the ‘Dan Cedar doesn’t know what he is talking about’, nonsense. In fact, I predict it will win. Once again, Old Dan, is a 1 Per center. Rotten Tomatoes has this movie as 99 per cent loved by critics.

Now, why in the fuck would that be?

Sit down. Shut up. Quit talking to the computer screen and I will tell you why.

People love this movie, especially reviewers, because they know what all of us that are over 30 have, long ago, figured out. Today’s music sucks and this is a subtle way to tell this new generation of knuckleheads that just because some movie is in black and white or some music was made before they were born, doesn’t make it shitty. The problem with my generation is that they are well into ‘The Good Old Days’ mindset.

20 Feet From Stardom is only 90 minutes long. Good, right? Yeah, good if there is a point or two that we are getting from it. But, No!! Seventy minutes into the movie…I am squirming in my seat. Checking my phone for sports updates. Thinking of asking my date for a blow job. But, I can tell she is really enjoying the movie. If it wasn’t for the lack of on-screen scenery, Old Dan would have let Little Dan out of his cage and pulled off a happy ending. But Tina Turner is not on screen, shaking that fine piece of tail, long enough to give me a chance.

One minute this movie wants to be about black people not getting credit for starting rock and roll, then it wants to tell some stories about some backup singers and how they never got their due, then we have a bunch of white rock and rollers talking about how they couldn't have done it with all the backup singers. Then the backup singers lament about how they could have been, should have been, stars.

The music is wonderful…the great Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles are here. I told you the music is great, but this, here, is supposed to be a fucking movie. It’s called a story arc.

Apparently all backup singers are black. But we see one, yes one, that is white and she gets an interview that is, ummm, I don’t know, about 14 seconds.

The rest are black. And you can ban Old Dan from any future jury pool, but they all pretty much look the same. No offense. And there are so many of them, that I can’t follow one coherent story.

Take that back.

The chick who sings back up for The Rolling Stones sticks out. And then, there is a kind of hot new chick, that looks like a black Asian or something… that is whining about how she isn’t a star. I say ‘she’…kind of has a tranny look to her. He/she is hot. But unless there is a new TV show called ‘Tranny’s Got Talent’, my guess is you never hear from her again. That is, if he/she doesn't pass my private talent interview. In that case, he/she will still have a backup job as my personal assistant - if you get my drift.

The movie has one thing absolutely right…any music made after 1989 absolutely sucks. That's right, groups like Soft Cell, ABC, Culture Club, Wham, Tears For Fears, Madness, A Flock Of Seagulls, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Erasure, Rick Astley, Duran Duran, ATF, Men At Work, Human League, Falco, Dexys Midnight Runners and The Fixx were the bomb. In fact, your humble reviewer just exploded in his trousers thinking about George Michael in his five o'clock shadow and tight Jordache jeans.

They attribute this to home studios and not using backup singers. I attribute it to not being able to play, write or sing music.

Oh, and The Rap Music, which has become all the rage. No mention of that in this, here, movie. Why? Because it’s NOT FUCKING MUSIC. It’s fucking talking, stealing other people’s rifts and has ZERO...anyone..anyone? ZERO Fucking Melody. Which, by definition means, it’s not fucking music.

But, what the fuck do I know…the audience that I watched this movie with burst out into applause as the credits and my eyes rolled.

Simpletons. Like the rest of you.

1 Naybob

Somewhat Young and Restless and Depressed
Dan Cedar

A DANGEROUS METHOD – Aka…Keira Knightley Gets Mind Fucked

Okalie Dokalie…We’re getting towards the end of 2011 which means, of course, that we are getting to the best movies of the year!!!

Now, just what does A Dangerous Method offer to the paying movie goer?

Psycho, Sexual, Sadism…check…good topic

Early 1900s…check…not too current. And thank God…not in the future

No CGI….check…nothing is really gonna happen…So why the fuck would we need computers? Of course…that didn’t stop the CGI histrionics in those god forsaken Sherlock Holmes movies and Three Musketeers remake from earlier this year.

Viggo Mortensen….check…this guy can win a Golden Globe for standing on a turd.

Keira Knightley…check…she’s hot and all, but…in this here movie she is described as a psycho-sexual mental patient…hmmm…ok…a bit suspicious…she can’t really act…she thinks she can…and I am in no mood to get cock teased for 90 minutes so that this chick can win an Oscar. But…the new Sundance Theatre downtown serves drinks and is a rumored great place to find swingers.

All right…I am in. My stomach is rumbling. I will just need 3 Knob Creek and Cokes and a Panini.

The plot: Drs. Jung and Freud (they were psychiatrists a couple of decades before Bob Hartley) have a little sword fight over a psycho patient. That is it.

I know what you’re thinking…Geez, that doesn’t seem to be a whole lot to go on and I have 300 hard core DVDs to fill my masturbation void at home…but if they are waiting until the last week of December to release A Dangerous Method…it HAS to be good. Right???

Previews done. Movie begins.

Pretty good start, but by about frame 17 of the movie…it all starts to fall apart. Knightley’s character, as has become de rigueuer with suckass actors - begins a flurry of changing accents in mid-sentence. Russian…maybe…then definitely English…followed by, possibly Portuguese. As a director at this point…one might want to do…maybe…what we call in the business…a re-take.

But, nope. “Cut and Print.”

O.K. She’s still hot and I am starting to catch a buzz from my Knob Creek. So, I am not giving up on this little turd pile just yet.

Jung, one of Knghtley’s psychologists, is slightly turned on by her…not because she has the table manners of a high-cheeked female human that has been genetically mutated with a famished wild Dingo.

No. Because she’s hot. And he suspects…a little kinky…after she tells him that she was turned-on when her pappy beat her.


Now if any man on the face of the earth doesn’t take this as an open invitation to copulate…I am calling him a queer.

Not only does Knightley’s character learn that she likes to be beaten and fucked at the same time…this little soirée magically turns her into an M.D by the end of the movie.


When this movie ended….I swear to you…ALL THE PATRONS in the theater looked around the…including a gaze back to the clickety-clack of the film room.

WE ALL thought the film snapped.

But, nope. The End.

Get out now…you fucking fucks.

And no…there aren’t any swingers at the local Sundance Theatre…Jackass!!

So, I am back with the creature comforts of my home made porn Xanadu.

Nice Panini sandwich by the way.

Diarrhea for three days running.

More likely…just a shitty movie that isn’t sitting well.


Pretty hard to stand on that? Huh, Viggo?

1 Naybob

Old Dan Cedar

ARGO – Aka…So, Apparently Bryan Cranston Didn’t Have Cancer And Wasn’t Selling Meth

First of all, I would like to apologize for my lack of reviews over the past couple of months. Your good friend, Old Dan Cedar, has been under intense radiation and chemotherapy to treat what was once thought of as a benign, irrelevant anal polyp and had turned into to a malignant pain in my ass. I strongly considered following the Breaking Bad formula for success, but dismissed it…considering that I am basically a pussy and don’t care if I die.

Luckily, I was able to hire a Shapiro to have this Kardashian-obsessed polyp extricated from my anal cavity.

Providence, and Morons have set forth that this has been a typical year for movies of the last generation; either some egg-headed Cohen Brothers type of story without a third act (King Hippo’s specialty)….the random, non-ending, ending where the audience is left wondering…WTF? This accounts for 2% of total movies to apply for Academy Awards nominees.

Then there is the 97.8% of the rest of films that are geared towards the morons.

Yes, the same morons that will account for those whom believe and elect politicians. Let’s say you’ve paid for and watched more than one of these quasi-adult marketed movies: The Avengers (you get a pass on this if you watched it for Scarlett Johannson’s tits), The Dark Knight Rises, The Amazing Spider-Man, Ted, Men In Black III.




Which brings me to the 0.2% of the remaining movies.
And what you SHOULD be spending your money on…ARGO!!

It’s a great story, with witty writing and without CGI histrionics.

I won’t go through the whole fucking story with you. I will tell you it’s intense, with humor and a fucking Third Act.

Which, for you inane masses means what? Anyone? IT HAS A FUCKING ENDING.

This doesn’t mean that the night was perfect. I was accompanied by my heterosexual partner Bibs Detroit to the haughty Sundance Theatre in town.

Was it expensive? Yes. Was it crowded? Yes. Was there any semblance of the need for the patrons to talk to the movie screen? NO. Why? No Riff and No Raff.

Could I get some decent food (Chicken Quesadillas)
(with an attached cup of guacamole and another attached cup of salsa)? Yes. Was I able to order me a Double Knob Creek and Coke served
in a real glass? Yes. Was I able to sneak out and get me and my bride two glasses of red wine halfway into the movie? Yes.

Sounds too good to be true, huh?

Well, yeah…except the intensity of cheering for the group of Americans trying to escape from Iran surrounded by the Islamic trash that still rule that country was too much for my life partner to take.

Bibs…is of Italian (WOP) descent. So, she perpetually talks with her hands…Oh, yeah and her mouth.

The first 45 minutes of the movie she is whispering explanations of each of the historical figures are that are appearing on screen….”That’s Jimmy Carter”…”That’s that scumbag Ayatollah Khomeini”…”That’s a young Ted Koppel”…"That’s Walter Cronkite”…”That’s Bryan Cranston…he’s such a great actor”…”I LOVE Breaking Bad”….”That’s Ben Affleck…he’s hot.”

It was at this point that I finally said, “Honey, I am a movie critic and actually lived through the late 70’s. Would you like another glass of wine and can I clear off this food?”

“Yes, I will have a glass of Malbec. “

As she handed me the food in an awkward manner…which I have no doubt was my fault…a large amount of salsa and guacamole spilled down my shorts, legs and socks.

After a 20 minute cleanup in the bathroom I brought us back two more glasses of wine and quickly swallowed my second Xanax of the night.

I was greeted with, “Wow, was there a long line?”

My spoken answer was, “No, not really.”

My inner monologue was, “No, I had to go to the restroom, so that it didn’t appear that one of my testicles had a bloody implosion and had to wash my socks in the sink. Now…what the fuck did I miss?”

The intensity of the story continued to ratchet up and Bibs started squeezing the ever-living shit out of your humble reviewer’s hand.

Eventually, I was able to ply my hand out of her death grip to swig down the rest of my $9 glass of wine.

It was at precisely this moment that she decided that the on-screen Americans were in grave danger of getting captured by the unkempt Mullah lovers. This led to my wife’s gasps of “Oh, my God….Oh, my God!!”

And the inevitable hand talking….which of course…led to her empty glass of wine being accidently and violently flung out of its cup holder…clanking off of the back of the 78 year-old woman’s seat sitting directly in front of her.

And, of course, the three minutes of apologies to everyone within six rows of us.

Bryan Cranston plays the assistant deputy director of the CIA, Jack O'Donnell, who is the boss to the agent (Ben Affleck) who puts in motion an outlandish plan to use a fake movie production of a film called "Argo" to help six Americans escape from Iran during the hostage crisis in 1979.

I am going to assume that if you are still reading this review that you know who both of these guys are.

The story is taught, tense and tidy.

Not to be confused with the disheveled look that I was throwing down upon leaving my Highfalutin, Hundred-Dollar Movie Theatre.

In closing…to paraphrase a line in this film.

Go see this fucking movie, Argo fuck yourself!!

Dan Cedar

5 Naybobs

CONTAGION - Aka...Ode To The 99 Percent

An ensemble cast comes to grips with a deadly worldwide viral pandemic? Really? I guess the producers and writers of this movie missed The Andromeda Strain and I Am Legend and Outbreak and 28 Days Later and Cabin Fever and Carriers, et al, etc., ad nauseum.

Good grief, I thought Jews were innovators and entertainers, not just money hungry vultures...and Jesus murderers. Pontius Pilate…my ass!!

I just couldn't understand the "critics" fawning all over this regurgitated shitpile with accolades of "intricate plotlines"and "sublime acting performances." Really? When the best acting job in the movie is turned in by octogenarian Elliot Gould, you can save your witless praises for brain dead morons like Dan Cedar and Lady Spamalot, who are only too grateful to lick your asses then ask for seconds.

When King Hippo finally DOES go Ass to Mouth…It won’t be with Elliot Fucking Gould.

Actually, there are some accurate representations in this movie. 1) Lawrence Fishburne as the director of the CDC who uses his authority position to whisk his wife out of harm's way before a quarantine of the Twin Cities is enforced. Very realistic - it shows how government elitist scumbags get preferential treatment over the proletariat. 2)Jude Law as the whistle blowing lib blogger from England who not only shows his true colors as a self-serving lying piece of shit liberal cock sucker but also proves his Limey provenance with horrible dental work. 3) Gwyneth Paltrow as a typical junior executive on an international business trip making a quick "stopover" in Chicago to fuck her previous boyfriend. Oh, and she's only been married to current dolt husband, Matt Damon, for a little over a year. She's the Typhoid Mary to start the disease internationally.

Serves the whore right.

Hopefully, she’ll serve as a model for you filthy, neophytes currently occupying Wall Street.

Hey Assholes…it’s simple: Rinse, Lather, and Repeat until you get the scum off!!! Pull out the Razor. Shave off about 99% of that fucking hair you have. Ask daddy to pay off your student loans like the rest of us. And keep some extra cash so that you can buy a suit prior to your interview. Oh, and another thing…you might want to show some respect to the guy that is going to hire you. Which in turn may help you get off the government dole and get a job that PAYS for your health insurance so that you can afford to take your Valtrex on a semi-regular basis.

It’s for your herpes – dimwit. It is a viral disease, causing cold sores or shingles. It can be transmitted sexually, in public places and by air.

And “NO!! Even then…King Hippo is NOT LICKING YOUR ASS, EITHER!!

With my luck - you will skip a pill and be in the middle of an anal flare up!!!

This movie does tend to make one hypersensitive about "germs" and other people around you. Case in point: King Hippo was tearing into some popcorn - three quarters of the way through the movie and, as usual, a wayward kernel "went down the wrong pipe." This started the inevitable cascade of gagging and uncontrollable coughing which caused six of the patrons of this movie to go scurrying out the door like rats caught in a flood...Or hypochondriacs trying to avoid the next "bird flu" epidemic. So even though the movie wasn't particularly entertaining, King Hippo entertained himself by cutting the movie short for several paying customers.

*Fingers tented in an 'A' frame*

I hope that every last one of you gets herpes at OCCUPY ASS CHEEK!!!!

Three Naybobs
King Hippo

DARK KNIGHT RISES – Aka…Gimp Goes Gotham

Ya know, with all of the crap that has been spewed out by Hollywood and its plethora of Boy-Toy, Com-Con, infatuated, Superheroes. It is not merely having felt conned with the snake oil that has been peddled by the movie industry for the past dozen years. 3D effects, 3 hour “films”, or just bad actors.

Shitty actors escape you? Shitty movies escape you?

Here ya go: Ben Affleck in Daredevil, Nicolas Cage in Ghost Rider, Halle Berry in Catwoman, Jennifer Garner in Elektra, Jessica Alba in Fantastic Four, Eric Bana in Hulk. Mind you, all of these movies have rectumfied this nation in the dozen years since this millennium began. Ugghh!!

Now, I could go on, but as Shakespeare said, Brevity is the soul of wit”, and although I never thought Will was all that witty, or for that matter brief, I will get on with it.

Bringing me to Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Rises. Nice story that tidies up this trilogy. But at 2 hours and 43 minutes…it’s a slow rise. If it took Old Dan Cedar that long to get it up, my wife, Bibs Detroit would be sawing logs and I would be left on my own to rectify my own log.

The bad guy, Bane, has a giant gag ball that covers his mouth. He looks basically like the gimp from Pulp Fiction after his 300th cycle of anabolic steroids. He speaks through some kind of voice-modifying device that is probably supposed to give one the feeling of a Darth Vader bad guy.

But, spooky, it is not.

Bane sounds like he was voiced by Dan Quayle using a $12.89 Toysmith Multi-Voice Changer that was purchased on eBay.

One might say that it is comical.

Not the tone that is trying to be set by Christopher Nolan since he began taking us to the dark side of Batman.

I can only imagine Heath Ledger rolling over in his grave. How is somebody going to come out depraved and suicidal after sleepwalking through this banal villain role?

The other new piece of bad-ass tuna in this movie is Anne Hathaway as Catwoman. Yes, the chick that completely stunk up the Academy Awards while vacantly co-hosting a few years back.

Although I would have nominated my favorite right-winged GILF, Laura Bush, to be Catwoman…it was not to be. Instead, my least-favorite, left-winged DILF, Anne Hathaway, was given this new bowl of warm milk over which to lap.

More filled with angst, I could not have been.

But, to my surprise, my little elfin, elf-like “actress” was really good…. And, yes, I do realize that she has sucked in every movie in which she has ever appeared, but she was absolutely, huhhummm…purrfect as Catwoman. Sexy, seductive and bursting of bright, red lipstick that served as a flashing neon vacancy sign that said, “I would do anything to get that big, black 42 ounce fleshy Bat…jam packed down my Cat Throat Motel, if given a chance to tuck you in to your bat nap-sack around my Ruby Red Stained Lip Penthouse.”

The movie drags, of course, trying to do too much. But the basics of the story are solid and in the end, ties up the trilogy nicely.

A little advice to Christopher Nolan, the director who has shown absolutely no restraint in editing since Memento in 2000:


Of course, this is said only within the confines of our bedroom.

Anytime she sees a hideous guy with a hot girl, she says, “Either he is rich as shit or has a giant cock.”

Every time I see one of Nolan’s movies lately, I think he closely resembles a tiny dwarf of a man that needs a step stool to get into his giant black Ford 4X4 that he has jacked up, ten feet off the ground.

But, I have no doubt that he is rich as shit.

He would still be rich as shit with 45 minutes less on his Rising Dark Knight.

3 Naybobs

FLIGHT -…Aka Coffee, Tea, or Immelmann Rolls, Sir?

Have you ever wondered about people that you know who function just fine even though they are raging alcoholics and/or drug addicts? You know… the fun/social/engaging person that always needs to be driven home after an evening at Katie's Bar, but come the next morning is raring to go.

You know, that certain "type A" personality who needs a pill to wake up, a pill to stay awake, a pill to go to sleep, a pill for aches and pain, a happy pill, a pill to get his dick hard,and several pills throughout the day to take care of his actual medical problems? And on top of that, mixing everything with healthy doses of alcohol and Red Bulls. Yeah, we all know people like this...some of us more intimately than others.

...And the question always nagging you in the back of your mind? "When...when...when is this jackass going to finally make a mistake and wake up to find that his dick doesn't get hard anymore on Mexican Viagra?

Well, strap in folks, as "Whip" Whitaker takes you on the airline ride of your life. Denzel Washington portrays our high functioning alcoholic commercial pilot in one of his better performances in recent memory. After a night of drinking and debauchery with flight attendant (I was going to use the word "stew" but this word is on editor Dan Cedar's PC "banned" list of words that feminist equate to the word "cunt") Nadine Velazquez.

This review is now interrupted for a classic King Hippo digression. For those of you who never watched My Name Is Earl… other than the hilarious premise and non stop laughs, you missed Earl's motel maid, Catalina. Aka Puerto Rican hottie
Nadine Velazquez.

And if you didn't think she was hotter than hell THEN, you will NOW. With full frontal nudity. An ass I would eat on a daily basis. The perfect body. A 10. Yes, she is hotter than Jaime Pressly, you buck toothed inbred hillbilly rednecks.

Now, back to the review.

Washington's luck runs out as he boards the plane in which he will soon find out, has mechanical problems.After take off, Washington loses control of most of the aircraft's flight mechanisms. But through quick thinking and stunt piloting, he manages to crash land the plane in an empty field with only six lives on board lost.

Hero, right?


The NTSB takes over. Now, I know that I shouldn’t have to explain that acronym. But, considering the fourth grade education that the average reader is blessed with and whose instinct is to take any unknown acronym to Urban Dictionary…where they soon discover that NTSB stands for “No Titties, Some Booty”...

Which, of course, makes no sense in this context.

So, more wasted space in this review is spent having to answer to the TMZ Generation….”Gee, King Hippo, What is the NTSB?

Well, you dim-witted, welfare recipient, whose vote shouldn’t have counted if you produced 26 forms of identification proving that you were a registered voter, here ya go…The National Transportation Safety Board,is yet, one more, of the deified government agencies which, we, the American public, has allowed to tell us how to live, die, lay or pray, ever since that handicapped Communist, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, took over as president. Basically the NTSB investigates plane crashes during the day and conspiring with the OSS and CIA….to hide the fact that Area 51 has concealed four foot, green, doe-eyed, aliens from the American public since 1941.

But, once again, The King has digressed…

Back to the Movie…And after a thorough investigation,
the NTSB discovers that both Washington and Velazquez were loaded before take off. And of course, the pilots' union scumbags step in with their scumbag trial lawyer to try to get Washington off the hook, despite knowing that he is an alcoholic coke addict. The movie then devolves into an introspective battle between Washington and his addictions, including, as it appears, white women who will fuck him.

Moral of the story?

Black, drug addicted, alcoholic, commercial pilots can do whatever the fuck they want. As long as they don’t go snooping around Area 51.

And no, you Urban Numbskulls…OSS doesn’t stand for “Obligatory Sex Scene”.

King Conspirator

4 Nay bobs for FLIGHT

10 Nay bobs for Nadine Velazquez' ass

HANGOVER II - Aka…Of Trannies’ Tallywackers and Other Kinky Fucks

Jesus, I knew that I was expecting too much from a sequel that had no hope of topping the original. Where the original was fresh and unpredictable, the sequel is boring and tawdry - like Dan Cedar when he takes to a stripper's pole at Heartbreakers Gentlemen’s Club in Dickinson, TX. Or Lady Spamalot’s “confidential STD screening” for the boys on the Southeast Texas Mavericks of the NBA D League that she annually recertifies in the “semi-private” lavatory of Nutty Jerry's Entertainment Complex in Winnie, TX.

The usual gang of idiots are all here, reprising their respective roles as hapless jackasses. A fraternity to whom I will be eternally bonded. How any of us have managed to advance our careers to this point – is beyond me.

But this movie was so bad that Paul Giamatti obviously took his cameo role solely for the paycheck. The only difference in this story is that Stu traded up from his harpy-bitch NASA-like girlfriend in the first film - to an Asianic hottie Thai fiancé.

Stu and his bride will be marrying in her home country, much to the dismay of the bride's father, who can't stand Stu and insults him at every opportunity. But this, of course, gives us another venue in which to re-hash the first movie outside of Nevada.

As per usual, Alan (Zach Galifianakis) manages to "roofie" the guys on the eve of Stu's wedding. Yeah, that sounds familiar. And as per usual, they wake up in a dingy room with no recollection of the previous night's festivities. As they retrace their steps, the viewer is given a grand tour of Bangkok's finest strip clubs, tattoo parlors, jails, and drug dens. This time, their goal is to find Stu's fiancé’s little brother Teddy, who has gone missing much like their buddy Doug in the original Hangover.

I must take issue with the movie's obvious slant that Bangkok is merely Las Vegas/Bunny Ranch on steroids. There is Soooo much more to this beautiful city than that.

King Hippo wasn't allowed to gamble OR partake of the Bunny Ranch's talent when I was 17 years old - HOWEVER, when I was a mere 12 year old, I was about to close a deal with a hooker on a Bangkok street when my mommy rushed up to put the kibosh on the agreement.

Hmmm, ok. Maybe the slots in Bangkok are a little "looser." And you are correct, Sir – King Hippo has had to ‘buy-it’ since I was in grade school and All In The Family sat atop the Nielsen ratings. Although I WAS able to saunter away with a quarter ounce of oregano prior to my mammy reattaching me to her sagging left teat.

Other than the cloned plot, the thing that bothered me most was the male junk swinging in your face every time you woke up from your catnap. Not only did we get an encore from Ken Jeong's Vienna sausage, but we got to see some of Bangkok's finest tranny tallywackers. What are they going to do to top this in The Hangover 3? Gerbils?

And yes, you are correct. King Hippo’s half-Korean, Uncle Ben’s Munching, Rice-Paddy-Daddy WAS in the military – which is where I get my right-winged disgust of any sexuality that is not from the viewpoint of a pre-pubescent heterosexual male and where I find MY disgust in ANY sexual predilection of the she-male or rodent-borne “variety”.

I only wish that at the end of this sequel that Stu had had ENOUGH of his future father in law's shit and let loose with a Sam Kinison/Professor Terguson rant about "pushing you rice eaters back to the Great Wall of China, then take the wall apart brick by brick and nuke them back into the fucking stone age!"

Furthermore, ‘Crystal’the Monkey gets my vote for best supporting actress.

And as Dan Cedar and Spamalot can attest; you don’t have to venture to the unseemly streets of Thailand to get your “Perv On”. Southeast Texas has MORE than its fair share of kinky fucks.

HOUSE AT THE END OF THE STREET - Aka...The Sordid Upbringing Of Dan Cedar


Another"suspense-thriller"that is neither especially suspenseful nor thrilling. I guess the producers were banking on Jennifer Lawrence's (the daughter) name on the marquee to put this putrid mess in the black. On the bright side, all you MILF chasers will be happy to see that Elisabeth Shue has never looked better - yes, even compared to the Elisabeth Shue (the MILF Mom) of twenty years ago.

I know you Rubes watch her every Wednesday night on CSI. Your humble reviewer, King Hippo, prefers to pay for his clench-fisted jollies surrounded by other dolts that share my same public perversions. Whether it costs me $9.00 and a hand full of, soon to be, crusty napkins or not.

I am going to warn you that my review was hatcheted by Old Dan Cedar because I wanted to storyboard the entire movie. This went to about 7,000 words, so my apologies for my lack of details….Spoiler Alert: I am going to go through this entire review without mentioning some hot chick and give her five Naybobs at the end of my review.

The general gist is…Newly divorced,former high school slut and current emergency room MD mom Shue, has reconnected with her estranged daughter after the untimely death of their ex-husband/father.

Really? How many former high school sluts decided to clean themselves up and go to med school? Really? Let's be honest and admit that they ALL wanted three things: 1) to get fucked every night, 2) to have a sugar daddy to take care of them the rest of their lives, and 3) to have all the attention that they desired lavished on them by their "man" or they would find it elsewhere.

Come on, raise your hands all you losers who dated white trash like this and later asked yourselves, "What the hell was I thinking?" King Hippo is in the same boat as the rest of you shlubs...the only difference is that all of the sluts I dated are buried under a newly poured slab of my grandmother's brand new four car garage. If you hear any moaning, it’s not that they are still alive. It’s the consensual, ongoing, gang-bang sessions of Elisabeth Shue, by Dan Cedar and King Hippo, self-jizzing, on the ballparked location of the aforementioned granny’s garage slab, where the whores wait for Old Dan’ and The King’s banana juice.

Believe me; I can barely hear the dead whores calling for my King Kum over the non-stop blaring from my 17 inch, rabbit-eared Zenith TV…and the South Park re-runs and my continuously loud cackling. Oh, but I hear their craving voices…try, as I might, to ignore them.

Anyway, mom the MD, and our earnest snaggletoothed Jewel Kilcher look-alike teenager, Lawrence, move into a ritzy rural neighborhood only to find out that the great deal that they are getting on the rent is due to the dilapidated house at the end of the street where a couple was murdered by their daughter years, after the some bratty little girl sustained a brain injury when she fell off a swing that she and her brother were riding.

The brother, Ryan, played by Max Thieriot, the son who lives like a hermit in the house and as we find out later, takes care of his deranged sister who lives in a secret room below the basement.

Hmm, this is all strangely autobiographically like King Hippo's life.

The story unfolds with twist after twist until the real story is revealed...which brings us to the reason Dan Cedar is currently editing the SMR website in a padded cell at an unnamed institution for the criminally insane.

The twist of this review is that it is not the life of King Hippo but that of Dan Cedar. Dan, just keep telling yourself that it wasn't your fault that your parents were crack smoking members of the 47% of non, tax-paying Americans who dressed you up in girls’ clothing and called you by your deceased sister's name, Helga.

Enjoy the next four years that your parent’s wrought.


1 Naybob for the Movie.

2 Naybobs for the current padded cell Dan Cedar is Living In.

3 Naybobs for Jennifer Lawrence.

4 Naybobs for Elisabeth Shue

5 Naybobs for Jordan Hayes AKA "Carrie Ann IV" (If you saw the movie…you would know who this hottie is.) Since you didn’t…You’ll have to trust The King or have enough gen to search IMDB.

King Hippo

Find Old Dan Cedar on Facebook and Twitter. Don’t waste your time looking for me. Unless it’s on a high rise building near the White House.

HUGO IN 3D – Aka…Scorsese’s Terms Of Endearment

You might think that a guy Martin Scorsese’s age (69) and his number of marriages (5) that he might harken back to the loves of his life that have guided him from the Mean Streets of New York to the past three dozen years or so, when his constantly thickening eye glasses and congruently budding ear hair have made it inevitable that just one woman wouldn’t be able to handle all of this tweezering on her own.

Every guy's 3D dream is different.

Old Dan Cedar harkens to the day of playing catch with his pre-dead daddy in the park.

Or paraphrasing favorite lines from Stripes’ Sergeant Hulka- out of context.

Or more likely, creating an early 80’s MTV Molotov Cocktail of VJ Martha Quinn interspliced in 3D queef-humping with the slightly tore-up Axe Goddess Lita Ford.

So, what did you expect after she didn’t get laid and got in a fight? Old Dan’s the answer man.

While King Hippo longs for the days of walking the dingy streets of Times Square with his “Uncle Madoff” exploring the live sex shops of the early 1970’s and discovering “creative ways of pilfering bread” from the homeless augmented with a 3D urination stream on random vagrants.

But, as we amp up for Hugo in 3D, we get ready for Scorsese to take us through an adventure with an orphaned boy that lives in a train station trying to reconnect to his dead daddy through an automaton. But, a complicated, great movie, just like an intricate, amazing automaton, needs to be beheld from a couple of paces

There are sooo many moving parts to this movie: From the best live action 3D to date, to a pre-pubescent love story, a boy’s longing for his dead daddy’s love, and a loving homage to early cinema. Love is not all you need, but it’s a good start.

Cause we can all see what could go awry in less talented hands of another Four-Eye-“Genius” with Woody Allen’s exertion on Midnight in Paris earlier this year. Where Allen was intent on showing his intellect by throwing-up famous artists from yesteryear…in droves…Scorsese seems effortless in his recounting the greatness of early cinema.

Scorsese’s last few gigs have been about reliving those good ole days. Whether it is in Hugo or in his Rolling Stone’s documentary Shine
The Light
, his George Harrison biography or his recent work on Boardwalk Empire…it would be easy to say that he is wrapping it up. Just keep in mind…he has already outlived the chick doing HIS biography. So, let’s don’t get too ahead of ourselves.

For all I know, Scorsese has a dozen more pair of glasses to replace and maybe another wife or two. But this I do know…at least when HIS time does come…Scorsese will be doing something he loves and is good at…unlike Dan Cedar and King Hippo…who will be doing neither.

Just remember…a few paces back, please. Otherwise you might not be able to discern the ear-hair forest - for the trees.

It’s a joke. Lighten up, Francis!!

Old Dan Cedar

5 Naybobs

HYDE PARK ON HUDSON - Aka...Woody Woodpecker Meets Porky Pig

"Charming!" "Radiant!" "Delightful!" "Splendid!" I can hear the comments from the genteel among you. In fact, this movie is nothing more than a sordid expose of the shameless philandering of none other than the second favorite Democrat among the lib lapdogs in America - Franklin Delano ‘Woody’ Roosevelt.

The movie is basically a slice in time during the weekend in 1939 that King George VI and his wife, Queen Elizabeth ‘The Queen Mother’, journeyed to America to ask for help with the impending invasion by Nazi Germany. Yes, this movie is the perfect interlude between 2010's The King's Speech and 2011's W.E. All three portray ‘Bertie’ (George VI) at different stages in his life. Yeah, I know, EVERYBODY has a fucking nickname. It’s like a fucking baseball team…this fucking movie.

Here’s a cheat sheet:

George VI – ‘Bertie’ (Not to be confused with Edward VII (his father, who was also called Bertie). Also, called 'Porky' (Due to his meandering, stammering attempts to conquer even the most modest sentence.)

Elizabeth – ‘The Queen Mum’ (Not to be confused with her daughter Elizabeth II).

FDR – ‘Woody’ (Not to be confused with an erect, post-polio penis or son of a hit man actor or the screwball, pestering, Woodpecker 'laugh' which FDR has acquired while incessantly trying to ignore the dust bowl, the great depression and the impending World War).

Eleanor Roosevelt – ‘First Lesbo’ - First Lesbian First Lady and cousin to FDR – (Not to be confused with Hilary ‘Lesbo’ Rodham). The ‘Second Lesbo’ First Lady.

Margaret Stuckley – ‘Daisy’ – FDR’s mistress that this movie is based upon who was also a cousin of FDR. Not to be confused with another of FDR’s mistresses… Lucy, ‘FDR’s Secretary’ Mercer. Lucy was apparently the only ‘non-cousin’ that FDR banged behind the First Lesbo’s back.

So, in conclusion, FDR was the prototypical Democratic President, who called on America’s moral courage and sacrifice from the country, while banging any work underling or blood-relative to relieve his sexual requirements.

Just think, if you could genetically splice DNA from ‘Bertie’ and ‘Woody’, you could get South Park's Jimmy ‘HandiCapable’ Valmer.

The movie is narrated first person by ‘Woody's’ fifth cousin, Margaret ‘Daisy’ Stuckley. Taken from diary entries and letters from the President, ‘Daisy’ recounts the events leading up to her becoming one of ‘Woody's’ many, many mistresses.

Jesus Christ, this from someone who's paralyzed from the waist down! Can you imagine if ‘Woody’ didn't have polio? He'd have as many mistresses as Bill Clinton and JFK combined and probably still banging Stalin at Yalta!

While King Hippo, your humble reviewer, can barely sustain an erection with Mexican Viagra, Internet Porn and my standing commitment to substantial cookie purchases from any scantily dressed Girl Scout that is willing to approach my humble abode after dark with an offer of deeply discounted ‘Thin Mints’.

Bill Murray is sublime as ‘Woody’ and the critics who disagree with me or feel that this was not an accurate portrayal of FDR may fuck themselves in the ass with a four foot barber's pole. Actually, there are several stand-out performances, notably Samuel West as ‘Bertie’, and Olivia Colman as ‘Elizabeth’. The acting throughout is excellent.

And even though the story may seem meandering, this is the type of story that it is.

And for those movie goers who don't like movies that start with the story already in full gear and those of you who don't like abrupt endings, you may all FUCK YOURSELVES IN THE ASS WITH A RIDING LAWNMOWER.

FDR should be grateful for living in the era that he did.

Could you imagine Joe ‘Plugs’ Biden as his vice president? That jackass would be telling people to watch their non-existent TVs for further information from the president, and every time the two of them were in public together, ‘Plugs’ would yell out, "stand up Woody, let 'em see ya!"

To which FDR would reply, "huh huh huh HA HA, huh huh huh HA HA, huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!”

Then, Jimmy ‘Handicapable’ Valmer would pipe in with, “Now, if we can just get Kanye West to stop humping the Grouper."

And from the best seat in the house we hear that distinctive Guffaw. "Huh huh huh HA HA, huh huh huh HA HA, huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!”

Wow!! What a great audience.”

4 Naybobs

King Porky

IDES OF MARCH - Aka...Invasion Of The Body Snatchers

This movie brought to mind the great paranoid horror movie of 1956 – Invasion of the Body Snatchers written by the great Jack Finney who would have been 100 years old this year.

At first sniff - the movies don’t seem to be related.

Body Snatchers is about aliens taking over the earth with pods. Kevin McCarthy’s character ‘Miles’ is desperately trying to save and warn everyone in the fictional town of Santa Mira that there is no hope. But the towns people are just mindless pods trying to serve their alien brethren because their bodies are needed for the alien power grab.

On to Ides of March – where we’re through the looking glass, Alice.

And there is no turning back. Abraham Lincoln doesn’t live here anymore. Evil is everywhere today. There is no Emancipation Proclamation to be used as a moral guide. There is no Civil War to separate good versus evil. There is no constitutional amendment that congress can use to assert right and wrong.

This movie’s gist is that George Clooney is running for president. He has all sorts of political operatives helping to mold his image and help him get elected. Ryan Gosling is his chief campaign manager, master-molder, and most importantly…money grubbing underbelly.

Clooney plays a left-winged, populist that carries the typical rallying cries to the masses of those that want to believe that the presidential candidate he plays is concerned about them. And, of course, the pointless causes that they haplessly care so much about.

I have to hand it to Clooney. No, not because he finally fixed those baked bean teeth, but because he is also directing Ides of March. His candidate is espousing Clooney’s real-life beliefs and he pulls no punches. His directing message is simply and loudly conveyed.

But Clooney, to his credit, is more concerned about the credibility of his movie - than the credibility of his ideology. Pretty hard to look at the ideals that one holds so dear and admit that it is all pointless bullshit.

And we, the public, stand here smiling, applauding the sound bites…but knowing deep in our souls that THERE IS NO HOPE FOR THIS COUNTRY. Our nation is no longer ours, no longer under god, completely divisible, with justice and power for only those that can buy it.

We are no longer in America. We are in Santa Mira. And the few folks that aren’t following each other around like tiny ants marching….aren’t nearly enough to make a difference.

Should we be afraid, VERY afraid??

There is an exchange in Body Snatchers that speaks to life in Santa Mira - between the pod trying to convince one of the few surviving humans, Miles, that there is no use fighting.

Pod: “Love, desire, ambition, faith - without them, life's so simple, believe me.”

‘Miles’ The Human: “I don't want any part of it.”

Pod: “You're forgetting something, Miles.”

‘Miles’ The Human: “What's that?”

Pod: “You have no choice.”

Think you can hop on that truck headed out of Santa Mira and warn the others? Think your vote matters? Don't fight it, …it's no use. Sooner or later, you'll have to go to sleep.

Have an Ambien. Drift off to sleep.

Nighty night!!

It will all be clear in the morning.

All of that cynicism gone…like a fart in the wind.

Four Naybobs

Dan Cedar


After taking a well-deserved year off from compiling my best and worst movies of the year, your humble reviewer, King Hippo, has decided to grace you, my Minions of Morons, with your god given right, to worship at the King’s ignominious altar. And so, Without further adoo doo…I give you THE KING’S LIST…fresh from my vintage 1934 Smith Corona Typewriter…which accounts for the variable fonts below.

King Hippo’s Best Movies Of 2012

1. The Master - Philip Seymour Hoffman is just one of the best actors of our generation. To think that the first time I saw him, he had a bit part as a spoiled brat fratboy in Scent of a Woman. Who knew? Even Joaquin Phoenix impresses in this movie. I guess it was the hairlip's every sixth movie to lay off the ‘Ludes for six weeks and actually make an effort to act.

2. Argo - As much as I hate to admit it, Uber douchebag Ben Affleck actually directed and acted in a first rate movie. I guess Jennifer Garner is holding out on him. She must have seen the Seinfeld episode where George Costanza quit having sex and became a genius. Don't hold your breath for the crowning follow up - Affleck is just one strip club away from flushing it all down the shitter.

3. Zero Dark Thirty - I'm wondering if I rated this movie so high because my expectations were So low...or maybe Dan Cedar is correct in assessing Jennifer Chastain's acting abilities. Hell, who am I kidding, he just wants to fuck her. Fucking ginger...Editor’s Note: Jessica Chastain is the actor in Zero Dark Thirty. SMR has no idea who Jennifer Chastain is and/or if Dan Cedar wants to fuck her, also.

4. Lincoln - No, not Dan Cedar's number one pick, Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.As usual, Daniel Day Lewis shows why he is the greatest actor of all time. I just don't understand the "supporting actor" circle jerk about Tommy Lee Jones. Did this asshole purposely pick the most ill-fitting wig he could find in the dumpster behind the props department? And then wear it like Vanilla Ice wears a baseball cap?

5. Bernie - Geez, who knew Jack Black could put in a serious dramatic effort? He must have been inspired by Bill Murray's first, The Razor's Edge. Ok, now that he has that out of his system, he can go back to Nacho LIbre sequels and in 28 years, his next serious dramatic role will occur. And as for the know-it-alls out there who would direct me to Black's King Kong, it's a remake, so it Doesn't count. Faggots.

King Hippo’s Worst Movies Of 2012

1. The Expendables 2 - Really, I mean, REALLY? Why didn't Hollywood just save its money and show us a medical training film depicting a ridgid colonoscopy of an 80 year old demented schizophrenic with 8 pounds of impacted feces and a family of 20 foot long tapeworms living in his freakishly distended rectum?

2. Three Stooges - What a clusterfuck. The all time funniest trio of Jews are made a mockery of in this unbelievably unfunny movie. Then I see who it's written and directed by: The Farrelly Brothers, aka Shitty and Shittier.

3. Ghost Rider: Spirit Of Vengeance - Nicolas Cage + Marvel Comics adaptation + sequel = steaming pile of dogshit no matter what movie it is. 'Nuff said.

4. Total Recall - Why in the hell would anyone do a re-make of one of the shittiest, stupidest, worst acted, and cheesiest movies of all time? Not to mention the cheap-ass sets in the original. Not to mention the worst actor of all time, Arnold Schwarzenegger, in the original. I realize thatanything’ is a step up from the original, but a moderately retarded person (Abzug) is a step up from a severely retarded person (Dan Cedar). BOTH are STILL fucking RETARDS!

5. Magic Mike - This is what happens when you let a hot chick talk you into going to a so-called movie like this: you're the only heterosexual male in the entire fucking theater. And I mean the ONLY one! And to make matters worse, she was on the fuckin' rag! A fact that became nauseatingly obvious when I surreptitiously slipped my hand into the Bag Of Buttered Popcorn that she was holding between her thighs as the opening credits rolled. Your humble reviewer is a sick fuck, but I’m not a Fucking Vampire Vegan.

LINCOLN - Aka…So, The Guy That Freed The Slaves was a Republican?

So, you know these losers whose whole life is built around figuring out when the Stand Alone Moustache (SAM) is going to be revived? Like the good old days, in the 1970s, when all the cool kids and porn stars were doing it.

Well, at one time… your good friend and movie reviewer, Old Dan Cedar had this affliction. I held on to my SAM until mid-2002 when my “Title VII Boss” said, I “was still holding on to that 70’s Porn Look”.

Ashamed by my lack of hungliness and chest hair…I vowed to send SAM to the shower drain, until which time, the trend caught on again. Hey, I have always been a big fan of gospel, blues, jazz and Shaft, but I guess the 'Richard Roundtree' look wasn’t doing it for her anymore.

Which brings me to slavery and The Emancipation Proclamation
and The Thirteenth Amendment. And the persistent cajoling, arm twisting and flat-out brilliance of bringing a lame-duck congress in and using the genius of the great Abraham Lincoln, to right the wrong, of the greatest moral outrage that this country had ever seen…up to THAT point.

But, excuse me for being an ignorant redneck, but I thought this Lincoln guy was a Democrat. I mean, how can ninety-five percent of African Americans be voting for Democrats??….Unless, unless…either the Republicans have lost their empathy towards their brethren brothers.

Or, maybe…maybe, the Republicans meant that “Emancipation”
meant that everyone WAS FREE...Be they white, brown, pink, yellow, born, unborn, mustached or unstached.

Everyone WAS FREE to succeed or fail on their own accord….NOT that EVERYTHING was going to BE FREE going forward. (Reminder....for you limp dicked retards of President Obama’s theme in 2012…Forward.)

Which brings me to the end of my rant and the beginning of the movie…Lincoln.


He knew when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. He knew when to use people with his strength, his perceived weakness and with his wit. He knew when to break the damned constitution for the good of the Union. Or if he just needed some presidential emancipation from his Nutty Wife.

We see that in the movie. Arm twisting, bullying and the ability to compromise…even if he didn’t get what he wanted in the short run. And timing…impeccable. When a lame duck congress was seen as an opportunity. Not an excuse. Ron Jeremy couldn't count down his sexual apex with any more precise timing.

Daniel-Day Lewis is your Oscar winning best actor.

Spielberg picks up another Best Director Oscar.

Lincoln is the Best Picture of 2012. I know we have five weeks to go, but the nuances, the depth and the insight are imparted with a wink here, and a nod there.

There aren’t any CGI effects or aliens for Spielberg to hide behind. Not even a Nazi. Just a great man marching this country towards its destiny. Its moral obligation. Its dutiful destiny to be the greatest country that has ever existed on earth.

Lincoln is not, to put it succinctly, everything President Obama is. Namely, Arrogant…Pompous…Condescending…Blusterous…and without a backbone.

The new “Forward” is back and to the left. You can be assured of that….after listening to his blabbering puppet of a Vice President. Both Doof and Vice-Doof promising giveaways that can only be earned by not achieving a damned thing in the process. Promising to tackle the Evil Republicans of Wall Street. And not prosecuting a god damned one of them in the process. Voila! Re-election.

Was this election was flat out stolen…hell if I know. But, just remember that when there was no federal income tax and few government giveaways…you could walk up and actually speak to the president.

Then a guy with a SAM snuck into Ford’s Theatre and ended HOPE.

And no jackass with a teleprompter is going to bring that back.

If Old Dan Cedar has learned only one thing in life…it’s that the first guys to bring back the SAM are the NFL field goal kickers. And if you aren’t a fan…take my word for it.

Note to Barry: The morale of Lincoln is, for you and your ilk, to keep your head on a swivel, invest in a bullet-proof, Kevlar top hat and keep an eye out for loitering porn stars and field goal kickers. The SAMs are back and to your left.

Oh, and if you grow a testicle in the next month…use it.


It’s a lame duck congress. Not a fucking lame duck president. Fix the fiscal cliff, you fucking impotent Hedgehog!!

Five Naybobs

Old Dan Cedar

LOOPER – Aka…Why Rotten Tomatoes, CNN and Hollywood ALL Suck

Here’s the way that the majority of Looper movie reviews go on Rotten Tomatoes…ambitious film thriller takes us into a whole new dimension of time travel from third time director Rian Johnson…blah, blah, blah…Richard Roeper says and I fucking quote…

“Writer-director Rian Johnson establishes himself as an original talent who clearly believes storytelling must prevail”...check it out if you doubt Old Dan Cedar’s veracity.


The Rotten Tomatoes critic’s ranking is 94% with constant comparisons to the smart dialogue and clever storytelling of TheTerminator.

The miniscule naysayers say that it is just a rip-off of TheTerminator.

Hey kids, before we go giving James Cameron another blowjob for how great he is, let’s remember that Cameron had to secretly pay off Harlan Ellison, a sci-fi writing dwarf, that has managed to get himself married five times… who published a story called, “Soldier from Tomorrow” in the late 50s. And afterwards, Ellison’s name was miraculously added to the credits of TheTerminator.…in the “Thanks…Acknowledgement to the works of”…Category. Check it out on IMDb. You will find him just below “Extras Wrangler”.

CNN’s review headline… and I fucking quote,”'Looper': A smart but confusing thriller”


How is a movie ‘smart’, but confusing???

I will tell you how…either the reviewer is admitting that he was too stupid to ‘get it’ or he is smart, but somebody had to explain it to him afterwards. Which would make the movie…Anyone? Anyone?

CONFUSING BULLSHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I couldn’t make this shit up.

If you don’t believe me. Check it out…AGAIN!!!!!!!!!

The gist of the story is that there is this guy who is a ‘Looper’. He closes loops (by killing people) in the time travel world to keep everyone from catching on to the obvious question raised by the time travel naysayers, “Well, if there IS time travel, huh, huh…then why don’t we have people coming up and telling present day humans that they are from the future all the time?”

Not a bad premise…. if it was already dreamed up, I don’t know…sixty fucking years ago by the aforementioned sci-fi writing midget.

Don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with the idea that Bruce Willis is the guy in the future “Old Joe”, and that Joseph Gordon-Levitt is “Young Joe”. And that, at some point after thirty years, this ‘loop’ has to get closed or, god forbid, King Hippo can’t believe in time travel anymore.

Here is the problem. What I like about Bruce Willis is that he is smart ass. Zinging off one-liners and bullets with equal, rapid fire action that gives NYC mayor Bloomberg an excuse to make him a prime target for his warrantless ‘stop and frisk’ policy in present day New York City.

But, this “genius” writer/director, Rian Whathisface, has spent a lot of time convoluting this plot without giving us enough Bruce Willis’ one-liners, to distract us from querying the time travel dork sitting next to us, “Hey, (insert Com-Con Dork’s name here…King Hippo) is it just me or are you expecting Schwarzenegger to show up at any moment?”

As of the writing of this review, Harlan Ellison’s name doesn’t show up with any acknowledgements on IMDb in the Looper credits, but with five ex-wives' mouths to feed…I wouldn’t bet against it in the future. And
it sure as hell won’t take thirty years.

There are three things that you CAN count on.

One….Harlan Ellison has probably got a giant horse cock.

Two…If there are Loopers, why wouldn’t Rian Whatshisface just send them back in time to kill the giant cocked dwawf and James Cameron that closes the repetitive story loop?

Three…You can skip all of those other websites for your reviews and just save to your bookmarked websites because CNN and Rotten Tomatoes aren’t going to let Old Dan Cedar play in their reindeer games anytime soon.

Too much cussing and too many fucking exclamation

Merry Christmas!!!

Old Dan Cedar

Two Naybobs (Barely)

MAMA - ...Now You Know Why So Many Kids Are Fucked Up In Our Society

If you are offended by every review that I do…I would kindly suggest that you assemble that pile of tampons that you have had stenching up my bathroom counter for the past two years, and wheel barrow them out to the U-Haul that awaits you outside the palatial estates of your humble reviewer and Monarch of Mayhem, King Hippo.  This ain’t gonna be pretty sista!!

I was actually seeing this movie just for the sheer pleasure of it.  I kind of like Guillermo del Toro's nightmarish, mystical style of film making the way Dan Cedar likes "no condom" gay porn.  

I mean, who can argue with the greatness that is: Hellboy, Hellboy II and Kung Fu Panda II.  I can’t wait to see his reimagined take on his soon to be released Pinocchio.  And white racists say it’s impossible to find a good Mexican film maker.  Hey, if you don’t like it, Shep Smith has some BREAKING NEWS on Fox…idiots.

The other reason I felt the need to review this flick is that it stars - once again, Dan Cedar's dream hottie, Jessica Chastain. On a more somber note, JENNIFER Chastain does not appear in this flick.  

 The movie revolves around a pair of sisters who were presumed killed when their suicidal/homicidal father whisked them away one morning after killing the girls' mother, only to veer off an ice covered mountain highway and disappear into the forest.  They survived the crash but as the distraught father is about to murder the eldest daughter, a shadowy figure yanks him into the darkness and kills him.  Apparently, this is the ghost of a mentally deranged woman whose own baby was taken from her while she was a resident of a turn of the century catholic mental institution which was located nearby.  When the sisters are finally rescued, the ghostly "mama" follows them home.  And the fun begins.

Apparently, "mama" never knew what happened to her infant baby after she committed suicide. And because of this, she is killing everyone in her path who tries to "steal" the girls away from her.  Hmmm, all this over a dead baby?  

Apparently "mama" wasn't a Democrat.  Apparently, "mama" isn't aware of her abortion rights.  Apparently, "mama" isn't familiar with Kermit Gosnell M.D., the black abortion doctor of Philly who has killed more African Americans than the KKK has over the last 200 years.  Apparently, "mama" wasn't a welfare crack ho who pimped out her 6 year old daughter for drugs.

Am I the only one that is baffled by the movies Hollywood puts out?  

And, I was also informed by Lady Spamalot that this movie is actually Canadian-Spanish (hello, Oxymoron), not Hollywood made.  To which, your humble reviewer and judger in chief, King Hippo responds, "FUCK YOU SPAM!  YOU'RE ALWAYS TRYING TO RAIN ON MY PARADE WITH YOUR NITPICKY IRRELEVANT CRITICISMS OF MY BRILLIANT WRITING!"

My retort - PPFFFTTT!!

Bend over, have another shot of blue Agave and think REAL HARD.  Next time you actually FINISH a movie review, just make sure that it’s better than that “Eat, Pray, Queef” pile of shit that you wrote, some two years ago.  

And NO…you aren’t getting internet access.

Now get back in the greenhouse basement and make me some more of that Mexican Ganja…you sexy mama!!  Then, put on my favorite eight track, “What Once Were Vices Are Now Habits”, and let me drift away. Apparently, MILK IS NOT A GOOd CHOICE !!!

If it’s good…then I will let you out of your leg irons to watch the Indians game tonight.  But tell that little six year old ankle biter to keep her yapper shut.  

As a reminder, my brothers are coming over tonight.  If I hear so much so much as a peep…YOU AREN’T GETTING OUT OF THE CELLAR FOR THE NEXT TEN YEARS!!!

Three Naybobs

Joe "King" Carrasco

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS - Aka...You Like Me...You Really Like Me!!

Don’t hold me to my drug-addled mis-rememberings, but some of you old fucks may remember when Sally Field gave that speech at the Emmy’s after she beat out Susan Lucci for the ‘Best Actress’ award for her stellar portrayal of a nun that could fly. The show’s name escapes me for the moment…but that’s really not the point.

My point is that of course…Old Dan likes you Sally. You’re a cute Gidgetish, coquettish nun that can fucking fly while teasing the likes of a Young Dan Cedar. What is there not to like?

And better yet, she’s got a bad girl side. The kind of girl that a comedic genius on the order of Burt Reynolds could barely keep his KY-Jelled mitts off of Sally’s mystery hips while simultaneously dating the, Sexy Sultan of Hip 70’s Rock and Roll – The semi-anorexic, quasi-pock-faced Jan Smithers from WKRP in Cincinnati.

Then Ms. Field follows that up with the late-night Cinemax drenched, soft-core Cannon Balls 2. And that is when it got a little creepy for me. Or maybe my buzz just wore off.

Kind of like Midnight in Paris.

We middle-aged folk tend to want to relive our youth or usually, at the very most, 10-20 years prior to our birth. Our personal “Age of Innocence”. Our “Wonder Years”.

Take me - your humble reviewer, Old Dan. I would like to be on the grassy knoll in Dallas or in The Cavern Club in Liverpool. Those were my Wonder Years and yes, it just seems natural to me to have fantasies of fucking nun flying around in outer space.

I don’t have much of a desire to go back 100 years or so and see the Japanese scientists invent methamphetamines. It’s beyond Old Dan’s scope of pining for a different, more romantic time.

But not for Owen.

Owen Wilson, our protagonist in Paris, is an early forty-something tormented writer that, during midnight walks, begins experiencing transport to the romantic1920s roaring, literary days and lays. Flappers and speakeasy’s abound. As do a bunch of artists, most of whom I only vaguely have a clue as to their place in history. Wilson seems smitten.

Actually it seems more like something an Octogenarian, like, say Woody Allen might have romanticized. But it seems a tad askew for a forty-something-type, like say, Owen Wilson. Yeah, the same Owen Wilson that was dry humping everything in a skirt in Wedding Crashers. I have to hand it to the guy for going in a different direction. And he’s pretty good.

But it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe if I hadn’t known that Woody wrote the movie, then I wouldn’t have so quickly pre-judged it’s longing for a time so long gone. Like 50 years before Owen Fucking Wilson was even born.

I give the movie credit for trying to not be a dumbed-down Transformers 3D, Jackass 3D or Rocky XII pile of excrement. But Midnight in Paris may be a little too pretentious for all but the EXTREMELY LITERATE World War I veterans in the audience.

Hell, I admit it. My mind sometimes does wonder if that little Soon Yi would’ve posed uncovered for my nekkid photographing. And I am more than a little intrigued to see if she carries an 8 ball of trailer-cooked crank with her - just to get my dopamine flowing even if it rots my teeth, gives me acne and kills both my erection and my memory.

Yeah, I know she’s Korean – not Japanese. But my guess is, either way, this Charlie is holding. And the dark side of Dan Cedar wonders about Soon Yi’s virtuosity on MY jazz clarinet.

And when I think about it – even a little too much – I don’t even need my Mexican Viagra.My Woody just spontaneously pops out - as if my tiny periscope were just peaking across the 38th Parallel for a quick pic of the nubile, young future Woody Wife.. Even if it makes me feel old and dirty.

And then I snap out of it. I put in my DVD of season 5 of The Flying Nun, pull out the Vaseline, re-live MY Wonder Years and become Fred Savage all over again.

To paraphrase James Earl Jones from 1989’s Field of Dreams: “And they'll watch the DVD and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. Mostly old guys from the 70s"

And, again, it got a little creepy for me.

Yeah Damn Right – I really DO like you, Sally.

I would like to fill up that cute little sixty-something nose of yours up with some ground up meth.

Snort it off of Old Dan’s pecker, Sister!!

I will watch your eyes roll in the back of your head while your endorphins soar.

Putting aside my constant agonizing over whether our love grinding on your tender button might break your osteoporotic pelvis in pieces.

I would love to lay you down Sally – and rest you in my arms.

When you wake up and discern the wrongs of your lay. You’ll want someone to talk to.

Meet me in the confessional. Give me three “Our Father’s”. And YOUR Dark Lord Cedar will grant mercy on your dirty, bad habit.

Another generation. Lost in Space. And time...

Old Dan Cedar

MONEYBALL – Aka…Frank Costanza’s Stop-Short Move

So, there’s this little trick that the Impossible Moviewriter’s Federation (IMF) doesn’t think we, the Impossible Moviewatcher’s Federation (IMF), are aware of…

The Mission IS NOT Impossible…it would NOT make for a good ending.

THEY just think that WE are Little Johnny Fuckfaces that don’t know any better.

So…Uncle Old Dan Cedar is going to give you a little IMF learning…just sit down on my new leather couch…be careful not to shard yourself. Didn't Scotch Guard her yet.

When watching a movie…the audience hopes the mission LOOKS impossible…but is actually only implausible. That would be the case in the case of a movie or series like, say…Mission Impossible.


In lieu of that…or when one is pressed with daunting facts that are too difficult to hurdle… like the facts in Moneyball…one can change the ending by prematurely snatching away the failure that is SURE to be headed our way…and pre-emptively conclude the movie…synopsizing the actual failure in the written epilogue during the last 24 seconds of our 2 hour and 7 minute movie.

The trick is in the slight of hand.

How deftly can we apprehend our happy ending with nary a sole being the wiser?

This trick being all the more difficult given the sentimental downtrodden earth that makes up Moneyball. The “underdog baseball story” killing fields are littered with the mutilated forlorn sob stories of losers young and old.

If they are going to make Old Dan Cedar weep…they better have something a little better than that David Puddy move. Which, if you’ve forgotten… “Ohhh, it’s a lot of fancy-schmancy stuff. You know what it’s like? It’s like a big budget movie with a story that goes *nowhere*.”

In Moneyball the mission DOES seem impossible…i.e. for the cheapskate Oakland Athletics to figure a way around those Goddamn Free spending New York Yankees.

But, no worries, we have an adept screenwriter in our midst. Aaron Sorkin (A Few Good Men, The Social Network) who is, once again, writing his buttocks off!!

HE IS, Aaron Sorkin, ASSMAN!!

Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) is reinventing the way baseball thinks about baseball. And how success is measured by using on-base-percentage (simplistically) as THE way of measuring a team and/or player’s success. There are a number of problems with the story that don’t completely jibe with reality, but we are here to be entertained.

And if reality is an impediment that must be overcome…so be it.

By focusing on details that are peripheral to the story…Moneyball deftly navigates around the on-field failures of Billy Beane’s cheap ass losers. And just like Frank Costanza…Moneyball, with the help of Sorkin, knows the well placed, but lost art, of the Stop-Short move.

And gives us a nice nipple pinch that we never see coming.

I worked with a dumbbell yesterday. I feel vigorous.


Old Dan’s tear drop wells up…just before the epilogue rolls up on screen…

Even though I prefer a swirl.

Should have seen it coming.

4 Naybobs

Old Dan Cedar

MOONRISE KINGDOM - Aka...Romeo and Juliet Meets Lake Wobegon

Knowing that this was a Wes Anderson flick, I was prepared for the quirky, the funny, and mundane. I was not disappointed. An ensemble cast resembling that perfect MLB playoff team of rookies, stars and seasoned veterans. All we are missing were the hot scantily clad cheerleaders on the sidelines...what's that? There are no cheerleaders in professional baseball? Well, fuck! When did they get rid of them?!?! Maybe, I should spend more time listening to Garrison Keillor gloriously recite Shakespeare.

Oh well, teen-aged actress Kara Hayward more than makes up for that. Her perfect mix of angst, rebellion, and sensuality reminds me of Dan Cedar's junior high days. When, after attending the midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, he started each new school year in full makeup and female drag, only to gimp home after the first day with a black eye, bloody lip, torn dress, and sideways wig, carrying his patent leather pumps with the heels broken off; muttering, "How did they know?" Could it be that when each teacher took roll and called out "Dan Cedar," the ugliest 'girl' in the class raised her hand and that deep masculine voice, said, "Here!"

Hayward plays Suzy, our Emma Watson look a-like heroine, and Jared Gilman portrays Sam, our Dan Cedar look-alike metro-sexual tea-bagger. After a year of correspondence and mutual commiseration, they decide to escape their respective "prisons" together during one summer while Sam is on the island where Suzy's parents have a vacation home.

Fortunately, Sam is an ace Khaki Scout (no doubt inclusive of ALL sexual orientations, this being set on the much more "open minded" east coast of the United States), and Suzy has a portable record player. Mmmmm, vintage vinyl...reminds me of my misspent youth trying to fathom the back masking message of my favorite Starship song, “We Built This City”.

The plot then revolves around our star crossed lovers dodging and weaving the various entities trying to find them as they make their escape off the island. Although, I have always enjoyed Old Dan Cedar’s out titties. Especially the way they jiggle when he is off-roading in his cherry-red Rascal.

Suzy's parents, the local police, and the whole troop of Khaki Scouts find our duo's campsite. Sam zips open the fly of their tent only to find the entire group standing there peering at them. Bill Murray (Suzy's father’s) expression is priceless when he sees that his daughter is clad only in her panties and bra. As the wayward couple is frog-marched back to their respective homes, the rest of the Khaki Scouts decide to abet Sam and Suzy's escape off the island.

It’s sublime. Just like when you discern for the first time what hidden message is being dealt to the audiophile upon the reverse listening to that greatest of all rock and roll songs from Starship…

"He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge"

"And she and Billy Joe was throwing somethin' off the Tallahatchie Bridge".

Pretty Fucking Deep, Huh? And you dullards just thought Marconi was playing the Mamba?

The Mamba is a fucking snake…Duh!!

I have to excuse myself, now.

“Wait. Wait…Don’t Tell Me”, is about to air on my local NPR station and I have to make sure that I can keep up with the upcoming witty banter at the water cooler. It’s especially intense on Columbus Day.

Not even NPR waits for The King.

Four Naybobs

King Hippo


Old Dan Cedar’s Worst Movies of 2016

1.) Manchester by the Sea…aka…Man Pacing by the Sea

Casey Affleck is all growed up and his voice has turned from that 17 year old whiny ass, mumbling voice that he had into a 21 year old whiny ass, death spiral, mumbling, yelling voice. But that is only where the trouble begins. First off…we don’t have a Protagonist. So, why do I care whether anyone in this Arctic Playhouse lives, dies, lays or prays?


Somebody died. I am supposed to feel sorry about the fact that Casey has to take over guardianship for the dead guy’s insipid kid. There’s a lot of yelling and talking over each other and I am only thinking about the hot chick at the popcorn squirter. Because, ya know, I care about her. It’s a good thing to keep those glasses on honey…protects the eyes from stray squirt.

I was so checked out of this movie, not only due to the popcorn girl, but because little, brooding Casey just keeps pacing back and forth from one place in this godforsaken Ice City to another godforsaken place. Casey, buy a fucking car and let’s take about 45 minutes off of this god damned Glacier. And while you’re at it, you might want to work the popcorn squirting nerd babe into this pile of shit, so that I don’t have to keep asking how in the hell this piece of penguin dookie got an Academy Award nomination.

2.) The Lobster…aka…I Am Going To Die In 45 days If I Have to Watch this movie Again

Let’s first start with the pitch. This is an unrequited love story about a man and woman that have to find a new mate or they will turn into an animal.


Another critically acclaimed (3.5 of 4 from the dead Roger Ebert) waste of film.

More specifically…the stupidity reigns. This is supposed to be some kind of allegory to 1984. Big state government pushing people around.

Hillary would NEVER DO THAT.

You’ve got Collin Farrell walking around with Rachel Weisz, both looking for somebody to bang. Huh, maybe I’m missing something here, but if I was Collin…I’d just turn around and bang the hot, little, left winged battle axe Jew that is traipsing around with me. She looks like she has a cute, hairy bush.

No, wait… there’s a law that I can’t masturbate, my brother is a dog that follows me around (along with grown up Anne Frank…aka Ms. Weisz) and I would rather just turn in to a Lobster than just fuck the Anne Fucking Frank. See, it’s that kind of racial bias that will turn you into a goddamned sea urchin, or some such, every time.

Collin Farrell is just another Limey Bastard that hates Jews.

Probably voted for Trump.

Like all of the Hollywood elites.

3.) Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice…aka…Three Hours and Three Minutes of Dumb

This is why I hate superhero movies. First of all, everyone knows that Superman could kick Batman’s dumb, black-thonged ass in less than 3 minutes. What the hell do I need with the remaining three hours?

Oh, Yeah…Bad CGI fight sequences and explosions. There’s your synopsis.

Which would explain why I fell asleep about 70 minutes into this in-flight movie.

Ben Affleck is, as expected, horrific, as Batman. And I don’t know who the good looking fella that is playing Superman is, but he’ll just end up killing himself or being paralyzed at some point. Then…I bet I’ll remember his name.

Dumb Premise. Dumb Ben. And even though it was a Dumb 70 minutes that I actually watched…I will take the Patriots to win the Super Bowl odds that the remaining math was just as Dumb.

At least, Dumb Ben wasn’t as bad as Dumb Casey. But, boy, did they both strike out!!

I just found out that humans are so closely related to chimps…that chimps can actually have Down Syndrome. Maybe…Possibly…Kanako, the Down Syndrome Ape, should be the next Batman.

4.) Nocturnal Animals – aka…I Watched This 3 Weeks Ago and Can’t Remember Anything But Amy Adams Upturned Nose

…and that this movie was awful.


5.) Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk…aka…What’s The Fucking Point, Here?

Army Hillbilly-Virgin Billy Lynn is coming home to see his sister Ginger and watch a football game while getting honored for some heroic shit that he did in this never-ending, godforsaken war to kill all Arabs. Well, if you thought the war was long…steep in this Lump of Jerry Jones inspired Black Lung Stew. The team is supposed to be the Dallas Cowboys playing in a knock-off of the AT&T Death Star. All while the owner of the team, played by Steve Martin, does an incredibly bad Texas accent.

Yep…Stevie Martin playing Jerry Jones. An inspired choice. The Man With Two Brains.

It’s an ever-meandering trail of feces that flashes between the war, the soldiers coming home to be honored (all while playing grab-ass with each other) and the virgin, Billy Lynn, getting a hard on making out with one of the cheerleaders. And as a bonus…talk of the Alamo…All the while, Billy Lynn struggles about whether to re-up.

Ang Lee directed this stool sample that can never decide what it wants to be. So, we have to decide. It just sucks fake Cowboy cock.

Spoiler Alert - He goes back to the war!

You can thank me on Old Dan Cedar’s GoFundMe page.

6.) The Witch…aka…You Just Thought King Hippo Was Fucked Up

So, not a bad start here…A hot, comely, vexing blonde (Anya Taylor-Joy) in Puritan time New England who may or may not be a witch. If the title doesn’t give it away. Duh….

I imagine if she were a porn star her stage name would be Harley Hills!!
Boy…that’s some random shit.

So, Rotten Tomatoes…Critics 91%...Audiences 56%....TURD ALERT!!!

So, there’s a lot of nonsense about this family getting kicked out of the shithole Pilgrim community for some unknown reason. This is definitely a congregation of tight asses.

Meryl Streep would categorically not be welcome here.

The family is cast out of the village on their own and a baby disappears playing peek a boo with the hot, young Stone Cold Fox blonde. Then, the comely vixen’s eight year old brother ends up dead after she cock teases him for half of the movie, then their goat rams the dad until he’s dead and the vixen becomes a goat whisperer. And the goat (played by the late King Hippo in his final role) tells her how to become a witch.

She becomes a witch.

So, the moral to the story…The tight ass Puritans were right all along. Stay the fuck away, Streep!

Whoops…Another Spoiler Alert!!

Old Dan Cedar’s Best Movies of 2016

1.) LA LA Land…aka…Unrequited Lust On Tippy Toes Or Something More

So, I know this sounds like a cheesy idea. A young couple meets. Fall in Love. And do the Safety Dance. But, will it end in tantrism, ensconced in velvet fog with Mel Torme crooning? Or tragically…When Harry Met Sally at the Ball dropping with the help of Princess Leia?

Gotta tell you. Hollywood loves stories about themselves. And this is right in their wheelhouse.

I rarely agree with the Oscar winner. But this year, they will get it right.

That’s the only spoiler alert you are going to get here.

Ah…to be young, hot and dance to a choreographed original score.

As much fun as the Oscars love to make of the good, old, square days. Deep down, they know it makes them look classy.

As opposed to the acceptance speech diatribes.

That’s why it’s called Showbiz, folks!

2). The Founder…aka…Mac Step-Daddy

So, most folks don’t even know that this movie is 2016 Oscar qualified, but it is. Even though IMDB has it released in January of 2017. But, if you look at the official list of the 336 Oscar eligible movies…you can find The Founder.

Michael Keaton is brilliant, De rigueur. Keaton plays Ray Kroc, the guy who ‘founded’ McDonald’s. But…not so much.

But…he wasn’t always the famous ‘founder’ of McDonald’s. In the beginning he was just a guy. A sales guy. Trying to get a scrap of food on the table for him and his wife.

Keaton plays Willy Loman morphed into a genius.

Kroc always said he was in the real estate business, not the burger business.

And he takes everything he can from anyone he can. By hook or crook. Including Dick and Mac McDonald.

If he’d have come around 44 years later…there may be golden arches over the white house and a roomful of Oscar contenders ready to declare him the Anti-Christ.

3). Weiner…aka…What A Dick!

So…this is the story of Anthony Weiner. A real person. So, it’s a documentary. For those of you that don’t like documentaries…tough titties.Along with the dearth of good regular movies and the plethora of death in the Wide, Wide, World of Fame in 2016, came some good documentaries that were completely overlooked by The Academy of Arts and Dunces.

So, for some unknown reason, this New York piece of shit allows a camera crew to follow him around as he runs for mayor. Yep...the same guy that sent selfies of himself with an erection on the internet a few years back. And…the same guy who was married to Huma Abedin, she of the failed Hillary Clinton campaign for POTUS.

Which, I am thinking, is a good reason this movie didn’t get a nomination for best documentary. I mean really, Weiner’s future ex-wife, could be the
first female president.

She actually comes off looking a whole lot like Hillary did in the Lewinsky sex scandal. Actually better. She does the whole stand by your man thing…up to a point, but she never demeans or claims conspiracy when her husband pulls his very public ass wipe move.

Even though Old Dan Cedar doesn’t really care for Tony Weiner…I still felt some very pained moments. The guy is super smart, but a complete sexual mess and nutbar. He’s a hot head. Gets in shouting matches with people on the street that shame him.

And then watching Huma pull back. And the votes come in. And watching their young child.

It is painful.

And will grab you by the balls! Turn and cough!!

4). Arrival…aka…Okay, I Forgive Amy Adams For Nocturnal Animals

So, this movie is a little bit of a slow burn. And I didn’t really get past my fantasies of Amy Adams on all fours with a gag ball in her mouth for the first hour of the film.

The films apex is quick and powerful. Something like what Old Dan Cedar might redeem if given an actual image of Amy Adams donning said gag ball.

So, if you need to piss bring a catheter. Or at least a Coke bottle.

“No officer…I was not whacking tater to Amy Adam’s ball gagged mouth and upturned nose!! I just read on this really shitty website that I couldn’t miss the good part and that this kind of thing wasn’t frowned upon!!”

At this point, there’s a good possibility that you may be shot by a rookie officer who thought the catheter was a gun.

Anyway…I digress.

Okay, Pee Wee…Just rent the fucking movie at home. It will allow for the piss-pause and save you a misdemeanor for public exposure.

5). Tower…aka…Lots of Young, Dead Longhorns

So, this is a cool movie that is shot using archived video of the actual shooting at the University of Texas at Austin Tower Shooting (1966) integrated with rotoscopic animation.

It’s a little off-putting in the beginning, but if you really watch how they integrate the animation with film footage, it’s fucking awesome.

There’s nothing funny about Charles Whitman, the ex-marine that killed 17 people including his mom, wife and an unborn baby. The baby’s mom is in the film.

The movie will be streamed for free until March 1st by PBS Independent Lens.

So, you cheap bastards may wanna go ahead and watch this fucker.

And that’s as close to a straight movie review as you’ll ever get on this website. I only used ‘fuck’ twice. And ‘bastards’ only once.

6). Zero Days…aka…The Most Important Film of 2016

When you are laughing at the people who are stocking their basements with crackers, water, condensed milk, spam and AK-47s, just remember that Old Dan Cedar warned you.

This movie has a lot of interviews with CIA types that talk about developing the StuxNet virus (along with the Mossad) to infiltrate the uranium enriching plants that Iran was using to develop nuclear weapons.

The problem, it turns out, is now a bunch of assholes all over the world have access to this virus or some variation.

And one day, mark my goddamned words…this will reign terror on the American people of which we haven’t seen the likes.

The end of days is nigh!!

Repent you mother fuckers!!

Good Night and Good Luck...Old Dan Cedar


Hey y’all…between my numerous, unsuccessful attempts at suicide by cops and the ample amount of time I spent hand crocheting my ailing, Catholic mother a Shroud of Turin quilt, time got away from my commitment to my true calling…separating the shit from pure grade apple butter that Hollywood perennially churns out these days. But, just so you don’t have to just go off what King Hippo has been clickety-clacking away on his typewriter, I do feel it my solemn duty to keep my faithful flock from wasting their free bit torrent downloads on movies that you can count on…so, you don’t have to waste your money, time or terabyte space on nothing but the best.

You may now proceed to read the channeled voices of my TV father growing up, the great Andy Griffith, who we lost this past year, and my current TV kindred spirit, Kentucky lawman Raylan Givens, played by the great Timothy Olyphant.

Enough of my yammering…start that familiar whistling in your empty head and let Sheriff Taylor and Deputy Givens give us their over-cussing takes on the best and worst picture shows of 2012.


1. Zero Dark Thirty – Well, contrary to what King Hippo would have you think, it is not my undeniable neediness to stick it to Jessica Chastain in any and every orifice where the sun don’t shine. This is a purely, tense, action movie that kept Old Dan’s bowels aquiver for its entirety. You won’t hear any more clever use of metaphor-isms than that from Mr. Smarty Pants, Seth Macfarlane hosting the Academy Awards later on today. Hire Old Dan, then you’ll be a damn deal funnier, Mr. Family Guy, and won’t be out on your ass like that little smart ass James Franco, after he scoffed at my offer. Clocks ticking Seth, we’re about down to less than 12 hours and I gotta still iron my tux.

2. Lincoln – I don’t know who Daniel Day-Lewis had to bed on the casting couch to land this role, but I gotta tell you, I would have taken one in the caboose myself for this prime piece of meat. And if it meant getting to look at that prime piece of tail, Sally Field, for twelve hours a day…so much the better. Prime Meat and Prime Tail. Put some A1 sauce on it and you got yourself a bunch of them, there, gold statues. Pretty darn good President, Director, Story and Actors, don’t hurt much neither.

3. Argo – So, what you want is your tension and your comedy and then some history stuff about why we hate them Muslims, and then add in some stuff about them Canadians and how, even though some of them speak French, they’re still pretty, good folk. Yeah, you got some made up stuff that ain’t quite true. But you know what you also got, Barney? You got you a pretty, darn good picture show. And you know what that means? It means you can nuzzle right up to Thelma Lou, cause that, there Ben Affleck is still a pretty good lookin’ fella. Even if he’s covered up in that beard. And Thelma Lou can just close her eyes and pretend that she’s in the back of the movie balcony with Ben, instead of your scrawny, little self. And if, she asks any questions…just tell her that’s your gun pokin’ up against her. And you do have one bullet in there…if she needs a shot. Just hold your fire. So, it don’t go off accidentally.

4. Bernie – Look, we all know it’s a crap shoot with a Jack Black movie. Always funny, but not always a good movie picker. This one here is underrated and you probably went and saw some shitty action movie and bought some Oxy to impress a date instead of walking into some artsy theater to get some true joy that doesn’t include a handy in the back row. And if you’re from Texas, you will see a bunch of real familiar folks in this movie. Some that probably live right down the street from you. I felt a kindred spirit in Bernie, who just so happens to be an assistant funeral director in Carthage, TX. Spoiler Alert: Young Dan Cedar used to be Assistant to the Assistant Manager at the Burger King on Coit Road, right there in beautiful, downtown Richardson, TX. And yep, Old Dan ‘accidentally’ killed someone in the drive thru there, after one too many requests by some blue-haired old bag to ‘have it her way’. For about a week thereafter, many a Whopper was made Old Dan’s way. No extra charge.

5. Nothin’ – Yep you read that right. Nothin’. Unlike the Academy, Old Dan ain’t gotta sell tickets. So, you’ll only be getting the best of the best. I guess Hunger Games was pretty good and so was the Life of that Pi fella with the funny accent. And there may be one that I see later, that I ain’t got around to yet. But, if you think I am gonna trust my 1963 Ford Galaxie squad car trust that half retard Marine, Gomer, who went up and married himself a fella this year just to drive to the city…then you must think I’m a half retard, too. Hell, I’d rather trust Ernest T. Bass.

5a.) Redux…Hit and Run – Okay…Hit and Run didn’t make it into my top 5 movies of the year (2012) because I hadn’t, yet, seen it. Hit and Run is in the Old Dan Cedar, filthy mouthed, cleverly pulled off, in 100 minutes guidelines – easily under the 2 hour barrier that every big-budget, Hollywood piece of shit, justifies putting into theatres every fucking weekend. Just a head’s up…The ONLY movie award that Hit and Run actually won, was something called The Golden Fleece Award. What the fuck is the Golden Fleece Award? It’s some made up, bullshit award…kind of like King Hippo and Old Dan Cedar’s Best Movies Of The Year. It is given out to the movie where the trailer of the movie was judged better than the sum of the movie. Hit and Run is a movie that I caught on Netflix, some months after the Academy Awards. This movie is fucking hilarious. A road movie, where myriad of vehicles are driven around by Dax and his real life girlfriend, Kristen Bell, as he tries to help her out because he deeply loves her. But, in helping her out, and Old Dan would do the same, believe you, me, to hold on to that fine piece of pie, Dax has to reveal that he is in the witness protection program and explain why a U.S. Marshall, Tom Arnold, is trying to protect him, and why his old bank robbing buddies are trying to kill him. Let me make this clear: Old Dan is not a “car guy”. It now takes Levitra to get my Old Dan dick hard, and not the revving of car engines. Hit and Run overcomes this with clever dialogue and surprises at every embankment. Tom Arnold, doing a great, over-cussing Barney Fife homage, is brilliant. The relationship between Dax and his girlfriend reminds me of the relationship of Bruce Willis and his girlfriend in Pulp Fiction. And the dialogue is nearly as clever. But, sorry stoners, you aren’t going to get it if you’re three hits into the bong. Go watch Pineapple Express…fucking idiots. When you snap out of it and regain those long, lost, brain cells, then sit down with the family and enjoy the rollicking, road movie,that is an homage that Bob Hope and Bing Crosby could never have imagined in the 1940 classic, Road to Singapore. But, brilliant, none the less…


Lord, I do declare, between the marrying of the men and that there fella occupying the White House for another four years, and the death of one of the greatest fellas to occupy the television airwaves, this past year just ain’t one to remember too fondly. But, I tell you what it did make for. It made for an easy pickin’ list of the worst picture shows of any year in my memory.

1. The Master – No, I ain’t even seen this movie, but once I saw that King Hippo had it at the top of his leader board, I had no doubt that this fish pole had no bait on the line. Besides that, Boogie Nights has been Paul Thomas Anderson’s only good film and that was fifteen years ago. I will take it that this here is a movie that probably meanders, gets caught up in its own artsiness and when it finally ends, you will overhear in the lobby, the folks that have Master’s Degrees in Movies trying to explain to the rest of us dullards what the meaning of the film was and why we don’t get it. Probably doesn’t have a real ending. As with most of King Hippo’s top movies of all time (e.g. No Country For Old Men).

2. Rock of Ages – Yep, your humble reviewer, Dan Cedar, did see this steaming pile of shit on a stick. Glowing with the greatest music from the greatest musical decade of all time, you’d think, ‘fellas, I think we got us a winner, here’. But the Scientologists must have gotten hold of all of the actors and writers, and not just Tom Cruise, this time. Kind of reminded me of a 2007 movie, Across The Universe. Where they just put a bunch of Beatles’ songs together and tried to weave them into a story. Life Lesson…Don’t expect the greatest music of all time to carry a story. You’ll get much better results by getting some Nazi’s chasing a family of over-singing Aryans on an Austrian hill while belting out Rogers and Hammerstein ditties. Now, that’s entertainment!!

3. Looper – If you hadn’t figured out that LSD has made a full blown comeback in Hollywood, then,remember there are three side effects of acid: enhanced long-term memory, decreased short-term memory, and I forget the third. Oh, yeah, now I remember…we’ve seen this movie before and it was actually good. Synopsis…Time Travel. Kill bad guys. Change the future.

Now, Terminate this idea once and for all…and lay off the acid. Now that’s a better future that we can all look forward to.

4. Dark Shadows – Another in a long line of Tim Burton’s endless trilogies about being weird and how that makes a good story. But my favorite Burton quote of all time is, “I wouldn't know a good script if it bit me in the face.”

Which is exactly what happened when Danny DeVito
(as The Penguin), did to the makeover artist ‘Josh’ in 1992’s
Batman Returns, “Still... could be worse. My nose could be gushing blood.”

Again that was 20 years ago. Hell, King Hippo, will come up with a good review if you give him 20 years.

Even, Aunt Bea would tell you that if you can’t make a good movie with Johnny Depp, Michelle Pfeiffer and Chloë Grace Moretz, then you might want to let Goober take a look at it before you go puttin’ it on the big screen.

I guess you still get extra points for being a weirdo in Hollywood.

5. The Dictator – The great Larry Charles, of Seinfeld fame, couldn’t save this script about an impotent dictator that dips, ducks and dives to get us to a sappy, happy ending. Political correctness abounds with the two jews making the movie, trying to make sure that they don’t step on Allah’s fragile toes, lest the Muslims start blowing shit up. Again.

Honorable Mention: Lawless – This one is for King Hippo. Nice little premise here. Set in Raylan Givens stomping grounds in the prohibition era, a great cast including Tom Hardy, Guy Pearce, Gary Oldman and even a topless Jessica Chastain can’t save this movie without a story arc.

If you want to truly enjoy a fine show, just realize it doesn’t have to come from the big screen. Old Dan Cedar, who as a fledgling enjoyed the great Andy Griffith Show, now finds a kindred soul in U.S. Deputy Marshal, Raylan Givens of Justified. I too, agree that Lynyrd Skynyrd is overrated. Move into this here century and check out Uncle Lucius. Or as I call them…the Best Band on the Planet.

On second hand, check out Lawless. But, just for the titties. And use some Kleenex, so the wife don’t start asking questions.


What a putrid year for movies. After one of the best years in 2013, except for a couple of notable exceptions, 2014 was a film silver-screen-cesspool. Not that everything was a complete turd, but just finding anything that was not just meh…was a beating. Not only was your humble reviewer scrambling for great movies…I was scrambling to find the biggest shit heaps.

One of my greatest joys is finding giant Roto Rooters. And remember, as of 2014, I don’t review retreads. Whether it’s Transformer XV or Star Wars VII – ALL OF THESE MOVIES ARE ASSUMED TO BE A VEHICLE TO BILK THE PUBLIC OUT OF ITS MONEY. They don’t get Old Dan Cedar’s time, money or publicity (if you want to call this shitty website publicity).

Now, I know there is a lot of controversy as the Academy Awards approach tonight.

Namely, as we all know, there was a group that dissed by the old farts giving out Oscars. The Traci Lords movie We Shall Overcome was completely shut out of Oscar contention. The movie looks at her post-pornographic movie and singing career. Lords blames this on the preconceived notion that a great actress can’t come from the sordid path of a pedophiliac porn star. Despite a wonderful performance from Sally Struthers as Lords, the movie was only given one nomination…Woody Allen racked up another nomination as Best Director, but is not expected to attend the ceremony since the Academy wouldn’t allow him a four minute segment for a clarinet solo. Bigotry continues in this Age of Sexual Enlightenment.

Now, if you are ready. Here are my truly Best and Worst Movies of 2014!!


Every one of these movies made someone’s Best Movies of 2014

1.) Gone Girl – How this could be a loved, successful book and movie is beyond me.

This movie is as manipulative as my 16 year old ‘girlfriend’ that lives across the street from me and my mom. Always promising to make me meatloaf and NEVER coming through!!

It is a series of vignettes that are meant to be a commentary on the 24 hour news cycle and the way we hypocrites pre-judge sensational murder stories. Maybe, I am just smarter than the rest of you. No, definitely. But the twists and turns for the sake of twists and turns go against everything that the best movie of the year doesn’t stoop to. More subtlety and less hyperbole go a long way. The Nevada Film Critics Society, for what that’s worth, named Gone Girl the Best Movie of the Year. For whatever those three guys have to say about it. Affleck spends the entire movie trying to play the role, and quite well, without any facial expressions to keep us guessing if he is a good guy or bad guy. Well done, Ben.


His wife gains 20 lbs in five day period in the movie and loses 20 lbs back in a seven day period in the movie.

I could go on, but I am going on vacation in six days and have to drop twenty.

2.) Under The Skin – In the category of ‘Let’s just be weird for the sake of being weird’, Under The Skin is one of those kind of movies that critics love because – it’s just plain fucking weird.

And not FUNNY weird…like Old Dan Cedar…but, STUPID WEIRD.

Let me be clear…there is only one tiny plus in this movie and that is Scarlett Johansson getting naked.

Here’s a clue – Google Images…FREE.

Under The Skin…NOT FREE.

This movie made The Washington Post Top 10 List and is hailed to be “haunting and mesmerizing” i.e. it’s going to give you bad dreams and make you wonder how ANYONE could be mesmerized by this meandering hunk of dog dookie.

I dropped some acid the other day and was mesmerized (for a couple of hours) by the giant pile of dog shit that the neighbor’s Golden Lab dropped on my side walk.

Great piece of art, Warhol. Smell That?


3.) Left Behind – Okay, so maybe I lied. I am a sinner.

No critic that I have seen says that Left Behind is a great movie! Even ‘Christian Today’ says that this is nowhere close to a Christian movie. But, there are a lot of individual defenders of this movie on the internet. I am guessing that they aren’t the Mohammed defenders blowing sarcastic Parisian’s brains out so they can be martyrs.

Left Behind does have some redeeming qualities. The first scene, when Nic Cage is putting on his pilot hat and his toupee almost comes flying off. The first of many chuckles. Then, every time he takes off his hat, Nic tips his head back slowly, to keep that hideous rug from snagging on his forehead and having to re-shoot the scene.

De rigueur…Cage is overacting. If it was good enough in Con-Air…he is sticking with it in Left Behind.

The majority of the movie takes place on an airplane during the rapture. This is apparently a reboot of a Kirk Cameron movie that was made before Bill Clinton was turning the White House into a whorehouse.

Hell if I know. Never saw it.

There is this campy, over-the-top feel that keeps this from being the worst movie of 2014. It’s like the original 1960s Batman TV show, where the lines are delivered in all seriousness, but the actors, writers, director and the audience know it’s an inside joke. i.e. Actor Burt Ward as Robin (figuring out a riddle) “The opposite answer to a girl is a boy!” or Commissioner Gordon…a man before his time, “You know I am violently opposed to police brutality!”

I do know this. There are a bunch of lines that are so bad, they’re hilarious. And the clunky toy-plane flying in the Left Behind rapture looks just like the one in Airplane! (1980).

The director of Left Behind had previously been a stunt man. Perfect! This explains the continuity editing problems and the same extras that keep circulating through any scene at the airport that is more than 2 minutes long.

Full disclosure. I never knew there was an original Left Behind. But I am sure of one thing. Since Burt Ward’s acting career has slowed considerably, there is NO actor on this earth (or on any higher plane or in the pits of hell) that can deliver the INTENSITY that Nic Cage can. Cage is always hysterical. Whether it’s Face/Off, Con-Air or Left Behind…you’ll get that Cage- INTENSITY and several chuckles. And if you’re lucky, that Rat-Nest-Wig may just come flying off at some point.

And if you’re REAL lucky…Lea Thompson (Cage’s bible thumping wife) may lose her top…as she did in Back To The Future.

In Left Behind, Lea is playing the role of her mom from Back To The Future (1985) preaching to her kids about how things were different when she was a kid.

It never gets old.

Repent Lassie!!

4.) Force Majeure – This is a pretentious piece of contrived garbage. We follow a Swedish family of rich fucks on a ski trip in the Alps.

Can you say Cannes Film Festival Jury Prize winner.

1 Hour and 58 Minutes of PURE HELL!!

First of all there is this contrived ‘landslide’ while the rich pretentious fucks are trying to eat lunch.

Dad runs for his life.

Mom grabs the kids.

Mom makes Dad feel like shit for what seems like the next 8 hours.

Then, some other bullshit crisis happens and the Mom tries to save her own ass.

Now, did that take two fucking hours?

It’s supposed to be SO FUCKING DEEP!!

I would rather be buried under 100 METERS of snow, than watch this Major Force of Shit flying out of my ass, like I had prepping for a colonoscopy for 18 Hours.

5.) The Grand Budapest Hotel – Once again, Director Wes Anderson, is trying to be weird and quirky for the sake of being…weird and quirky. Anderson has done one great movie, Bottle Rocket, way-back in 1996. Right up there with M. Night Shyamalan of The Sixth Sense.

Thank you sir, give me another!!

Please excuse the brevity of this review, but I lost interest in this movie by about frame 24.

I enjoyed Ralph Fiennes shooting Jews and running a concentration camp.

I don’t need to see him playing in Abbott and Costello Play A Game Of Clue.

I half expected a frantic Tim Curry to come running out to solve the murder.

Unfortunately, there is no Lesley Ann Warren running around with her tits plopping out to hold my pecker’s interest. No Salt Peter needed here.

The Phoenix Film Society Awards nominated The Grand Budapest Hotel for The Best Film of 2014. Luckily the youngest member of the society is 112, so the end is nigh!

Much like my previous pick…Left Behind.

But, as for the Best Picture Oscar nod. NO EXCUSE!! Other than they are racist old fuckers.

6.) 22 Jump Street – Okay, so I’m not following all of my own rules. I thought it wasn’t a sequel. I thought that would be 21 Jump Street II. But NO, they mind-me into seeing this one.

And, of course, this proves why I don’t see sequels. Same shit. Different Address.

Starsky and Hutch go back to school to catch bad guys abounding in the hilarity of inanity.

What once was cute and clever is now worn and politically correct.

The National Post named 22 Jump Street one of the two funniest films of 2014.

Dump Street grossed $330 Million. Contrived and Stupid pays!! Watch Saturday Night Live, ya know, ANY FUCKING SATURDAY FOR 40 FUCKING YEARS!!

Hey, Fuzz, “I CAN’T BREATHE!!”


1.) Boyhood – And it’s not even close. Richard Linklater has finally made a great film. The film was shot in 39 days over twelve years. If you have been a boy, have boys or have ever had sex with boys…you will enjoy this movie. If you don’t, you’re a pedophile or worse, a Transformers’ fan.

This movie is what every other movie is not. There are no bogus twists or non-sensical plot devices to get us where the writer and director want us to go. There is not even one sword fight, much less a never-ending series of them. And there is NO CGI.

And yet…it’s fucking awesome!! How the hell can that be?

It’s the kind of movie that you morons think you’d hate. And yet, it’s pure genius.

Imagine Linklater’s Pitch - So, we see this kid go from six to eighteen years old.

He lives with (mostly) fucked up people that are doing the best they can to raise him. As a parent, you can only do so much. But, give it a shot. It’s the greatest thing you’ll ever do with your pathetic, little life. It’s exhilarating. It’s heartbreaking. It’s funny. The one thing that it is not…it’s not fucking contrived. I have the beginning and the end scene in my head. I have a general outline.

Would you mind funding this? It’ll cost $2.5 million dollars. I am going to film it over 12 years and hope that none of my actors overdose on heroin.

I took my boys to this movie. They didn’t get it.

Predicting the greatness of a movie is like raising a kid. Work your damndest and hope for the best! At the end of your directing and editing…you have to let that bird fly. Mixed Metaphors aside…

To my boys… You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday. When you’re sitting in prison with time on your hands because you didn’t listen to your old man’s sage profoundedness.


2.) Whiplash – The most intense film of 2014.

And unpredictable.

Like Jazz.

With the singularity to strive for greatness, Miles Teller plays a jazz drumming prodigy that is pushed to his limits by his perfectionist/sadistic music teacher at an elite music school.

The fact that some pussy from the Academy Awards refused to vote for it because it was “offensive” is just the icing on the cake. I fucking loved it!!

J.K. Simmons is the hard driving teacher that will win the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor tonight. He has some great lines.

“I will fuck you like a pig!!”


“There are no two words more harmful in the English language than ‘Good Job’!!

Miles Teller is the student driven to greatness.

It’s a clash of titan performances. But Miles Teller is the one who got fucked like a pig by not even getting a nomination for Best Actor.

Fucking Ridiculous.

Good Job…Academy of Dunces!!

3.) Birdman – So, Old Dan Cedar’s favorite Batman is Michael Keaton. I loved Batman Returns.

But, I only liked Birdman. Granted, I liked it a lot. But the rest of my best are good. Not great.

I think Keaton acts great!

And in doing my research, I found out that an actual Mexican directed this film.

And boy did he do some fancy tricks with his camera. The movie comes off as one giant, continuous camera shot. No shoddy editing like that Hitchcock tried to pull off in Rope.

Yep, Santa Anna just may win de Oscar for best director come. Hell, he may win de Oscar for buenoest film. You know how those film folk love movies about actors and such. This year reminds me a lot of way back in 1998 where Saving Private Ryan and Shakespeare in Love split the baby. Swapping Best Picture awards between the Golden Globes and Academy Awards.

4.) The Lunchbox – So, this movie was actually released in India in 2013. But, it was released in the USA in 2014. So, it goes on my 2014 list.

And I don’t fucking live in India!!

This is a very cool movie set in…India. Duh!

Apparently in India they have this overly-complicated manner of getting food to people (all men) at their jobs.

It’s in the Guinness Book of World Records as the largest distribution of food network. For whatever that is worth.

A younger woman sends her unappreciative husband his handmade, hot lunch through this system. Then something goes wrong. And an old guy gets her lunch.

He falls in love with her food. Then, through a series of exchanged notes, he falls in love with her.

Funny. Touching. And a great ending that leaves you guessing as to how things will turn out.

A surprise package, with just a couple of problems that have a scant stench of curry.

5.) Chef – Jon Favreau writes and directs a truly enjoyable film about a fat-fuck chef that opens his own food truck. Hilarious and heartfelt…the movie is a great vehicle for the chef to bond with his son on a cross-country road trip.

John Leguizamo is perfect and not trying to do some goofy, gay character.


He turns in an outstanding performance.

Scarlett Johansson is hot, funny and only a little weird as a worker at the restaurant. She throttled it back quite a bit from the over-the-top weirdity of her performance in Under The Skin.

The only character/actor that makes no sense…and I mean ZERO…is Sofia Vergara as the chef’s ex-wife. Too beautiful. Not funny. She’s a distraction.

I just kept thinking why the fuck would this fat fucking chef be with this hot chick and why would this chef with this witty, funny personality be with this model with no personality.

I know…pussy knows no bounds. But personally, if she said one more banal thing, I would hit her over the head with a frying pan.

But, then, I hate her in everything I have ever seen her in.

Other Notable Films Worth Your Time – The Theory of Everything, Nightcrawler and Traci, I Love You.


All right...enough of my hemming and hawing. The Oscars are this weekend and it’s time to rectumfy the wheat from the chaff. I don’t want to get on a rant, but this was the year we lost the great King Hippo…and well, you know the way you latter day hippies feel about losing Philip Seymour Hoffman, well that’s the way I feel about losing the great King Hippo…and he wasn’t even a junkie! Of course…he dabbled.

2013 brought us some really great movies; some were rightly pointed out by the Academy Awards voters and some were overlooked. There might be a good reason for this, here “coincidental”. Most of the really good movies were released in the last tres leches of the year. I don’t know what the reasoning is, but it’s probably a damned conspiracy that will one day be examined with the vigor that we now try to assuage our anger with the over-redundant JFK assassination redux.

Not that I really mind that, I enjoy a plethora of nutbars trying to figure out the unfigurable.

Which brings me to Old Dan Cedar’s Worst Movies of 2013

It was a really good year for movies for the most part. But…when they were bad, they sucked giant horse cock. And not in a good way…like that Traci Lords did back in the 1980s.

1) Gravity – The worst movie of the year!! How this lighter than air, hunk of horse shit didn’t get released straight to DVD and actually got nominated for an Academy Fucking Award, is beyond the miniscule synapses firing off in Old Dan Cedar’s tiny little brain. I will only reel off a few of the problems with the movie.

The Faux Traci Lords is played by that hot little piece of tail Sandra Bullock (Imagine pitching this to a Hollywood producer), plays Dr. Stone (Yeah, I know, Doctor, pretty funny), who is an Astronaut (now the guffaw’s start to begin). Her sidekick is the brutally handsome astronaut (as they all are) George Clooney. They are on a space walk from The Space Shuttle, and although this is in the future, the wooden mock-up that currently sits at Space Center Houston has obviously been resurrected into the future of space exploration.

Well, one thing leads to another and a Russian satellite crashes into the International Space Station. Clooney dies to save Sandra Fucking Bullock, so she can win an Academy Award. Bullock's astronaut has been so-mistrained in her six months with NASA, that she starts incessantly panting and talking herself through by saying, in a whining little voice, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, about a million times, in under two hours.

She eventually makes her way to what’s left of the Soyuz and then to a Chinese rocket. I guess this is when we figure this is really supposed to be going on in the future, because the Chinese, at this writing, can’t put a trained actor in space, much less, the great Sandra Bullock.

Dr. Ryan finally gets her shit together when she starts thinking about her dead kid. Yeah, I think that’s how the guys on Apollo 13 got back to earth…panic, hyperventilate, have a nice ass, float from one spaceship that doesn’t exist anymore…in space anyway, to another three, while vascilating thinking about their dead kid. What was she trained to do? Oh yeah, panic, talk incessantly about how scared she is, and hope like hell we can get her hot piece of tail to land in a rice paddy, so she doesn’t have to swim very far before we can one last look at her tight ass as she walks to land.

Sandra, you may now collect your $70 Million salary and act surprised when you don’t win the Best Actress Oscar on Sunday…to someone that sucked worse than you…Cate Blanchett in Blue Jasmine. Who, by the way, whined her way through every scene about how she was the unluckiest woman in the world. Sound familiar?

2) Oz: The Great and Powerful – In this prequel to The Wizard of Oz, James ‘Bernie Madoff’ Franco preens and prisses his way from somewhere in Kansas to Oz, where he convinces this group of midgets and myriad of other idiots to believe that at the end of a piss-covered road, that he’s NOT just a bad magician, but the fucking Wizard of Oz…who, anyone? Any fucking one?

This little dipshit is their savior that they’ve been waiting on for years. See, that’s what you get for worshiping false idols.

Apparently the makers of this movie, having seen the success of Wicked, decided to re-bastardize this once great idea and hand it over to the tobacco stained, grinning, witless James Fucking Franco. Oh, and political correctness has not only come to America, but to the Land of Fucking Oz.

I, personally, don’t remember any African-Ozians in the first movie. But, loah and be-fucking hold, they have arrived in the prequel. I guess the next movie will explain the ethnic cleansing that went on prior to Judy Garland picking up every vagrant, hitch hiker on her way to teaching us a lesson about how we have everything that we need to succeed already inside of us. Except maybe some stiff booze and barbiturates…right Judy?

3) Diana – This sordid little tale is about this whore (played by Naomi Watts) that is always whining about something. The beloved Princess Diana. She, of the plastered in Paris on a concrete abutment. She doesn’t have to work. She doesn’t have to raise her kids. She just wants to fuck every Persian in the world before she dies.

This movie meanders in so many directions, just like the little pea-brained princess, who wants to wave to her moronic adoring fans by day and transform into a wanna be street walker at night. Kidding. That sounds much more interesting than this movie actually is. She wants to get rid of land mines, get a lot of press, invite the paparazzi when she wants attention and hire a drunk driver to speed her ass away from them, when she is sick of it. If you thought the real Princess Di was shallow, just wait until Naomi gets her in the kiddie pool. Guaranteed….YOU WILL LAUGH OUT LOUD at the complete incompetence of this movie. The product of 1000 years of in-breeding amongst the royals.

4) Inequality For All – What do you call it when one person says one thing, but means another? Oh yeah, Lying. Or Socialism. Or Both. Robert Reich, the former Labor Secretary of his good buddy Bill Clinton, spends the better part of two hours trying to convince us in this “documentary” that he may be shorter than the rest of us, but that he is also possessed with a massive brain that allows him to see that it is good and natural for us, not to just give our money to the poor, but to give it to our omniscient, incompetent federal government to redistribute our money to the folks that really need it. Now if you can get past that little shell-brain game, then, now folks, we can get down to this movie’s message in one sentence. You see - the redistribution of wealth is not Socialism. It is…in fact Capitalism.

I am going to give you a math test and see if you pass. One Midget plus A Socialist plus Trust the Leaders of our Country (they will never steer you the wrong way and my last name is REICH)…equals A) Naïve Dolts B) Adolf Hitler C) The complete and utter opposite of the way this country has thrived for over two hundred years. In other words, as Penn Jillette would say, “BULLSHIT!” This is not a documentary. This is propaganda. Good luck with Mein Kampf II, little man.

5) The Hunger Games: Catching Fire – This movie is so contrived and idiotic, I will explain it by way of a metaphor. We all know that sequels are kind of dicey to begin with. They’re like trying to re-create that perfect girl you used to sit behind in 6th grade. You know every inch of her face, where her cute little mole is (just like Marilyn Monroe), and you melt every time she smiles at you. Except now, you’re in 7th grade, and she has moved away. And there is this great, new girl, with exceptional summer-grown tits, a great smile, and an awesome fake tan. I hope you rot in Hell, Cheryl Wilson.

Sure, she’s a little overweight, but halfway through the year you hear her talking to a friend in the hall and she says that she’s sick of being fat, and now she’s only going to chew gum. She’s not eating shit going forward. But you still have a major crush on her and not just because of her smile and fake tan, but you can never forget about those tan titties that you have never even seen.

And then…you get up the nerve to make some small talk in the hall with her while she’s getting books, just before going to her next class. And she asks for you to grab an extra book from the locker for her. Then she slams your head in her locker and says, “Stay Away From Me You Creep!!” And you go back to every high school reunion for the next thirty years hoping that she will show up, but she never does, because she’s a fat piece of shit that finally got sick of just eating gum.

Then you decide that she’s the second Hunger Games movie and the first girl was the first Hunger Games movie. And the First One was good. And the second looked really good, but when it came down to it…just really whipped your ass.

Which brings me to Old Dan Cedar’s Best Movies of 2013

1) Nebraska – This movie kind of snuck up on me. I only watched it three days ago. Hell, I already had my top 5. Why the fuck did I even decide to download this movie? It was probably because I heard an interview that the usually overacting Bruce Dern did with Terry Gross on NPR’s Fresh Air. At the end of the interview, Dern told Gross that it was the best interview that he had ever had. I found it so sincere, and Gross was so flattered by it.

Watching this movie amounted to a Pity Fuck. I was going to fuck Bruce Dern just because he was so damned nice. And I was going to do it, not by sticking my dick in his ass, but by downloading his movie on, of all things that I hate, iTunes. I was gonna fuck Bruce Dern for $13.99. In Standard Definition, of course. This WAS a pity fuck for Christ’s sake.

And the damndest thing happened. I enjoyed every part of this road movie that Dern takes with his son from Big Sky Country to Nebraska. Where he grew up. It reminded me of my dad and our switching father/son roles. It reminded me of the crazy shit he would do at the assisted living home.

They would call me and, just like my school principal would say to my parents when I was in sixth grade, “You need to get down here…you won’t believe what he has done today.” And I would get to the assisted living apartment and would ask him, “Dad, why did you put a glass of urine out in front of your apartment.” Now, my father who was an ex- cop, explained it simply to me. “Well, I thought they might want to do a drug test on me.”

And, if you hadn’t before, THIS is when you finally realize that YOU are the adult and YOU are in charge. And now is the time to take care of him, the same way he took care of you when he wasn’t drunk.

And that’s about as crazy and unpredictable as Nebraska is. Hilarious. Uncomfortable. Unforgettable. And then hope springs into your little Dan Cedar pea brain. June Squibb is perfectly crude and funny as Dern’s wife. Maybe Nebraska will be remembered as a great movie and not just a shitty Bruce Springstein album.

Anyway, at the very least, it fucked up my top 5 movies. And then god said to Old Dan…”There will be 6 – you lazy fuck!!”

2) August: Osage County – If you would have asked me prior to watching this movie, your wise old sage and movie reviewer, Dan Cedar, would have said that I would pay good money to take a crap on the neck of the most overrated actress of all time. One Meryl Streep. And if I could do it prior to her making another ‘chick flick’, then all the better. Too late. Streep is brilliant as an out of control, drug and drink addled mother. Quick to fly off the handle and quicker to pop a little happy pill when it all gets to be too much.

When I read movie reviews, several things can give me a big, red flag up my ass. Reading the reviews of this movie, it was the egg-headed reviewers, once again, trying to compare a book to a movie of the same Title, Characters and Story. I will give you this, because I don’t have enough time to read anymore damned books in my life…If you haven’t read August: Osage County the book, then sit down, for some dark humor, wit and well-written and acted characters. You will truly be satisfied. And it won’t take you near as long as it would to have read the whole damned book. I would just as soon take an Old Dan crap on that book right about now.

3) American Hustle – After I watched this movie, I told my wife, “That’s the best movie I will see this year.” So, just because I have it in the three hole, is no disrespect. It’s just that there were so many really good movies late this year. American Hustle is a loosely based story by the FBI called ABSCAM in the late 1970s and early 80s.The story is funny enough on its own, but the movie puts it in a slightly alternate universe.

American Hustle always kept me guessing and, since you aren’t as smart as I am, it will DEFINITELY keep YOU guessing. It’s well written and acted. Amy Adams is sexy and smart as hell. Christian Bale is almost unrecognizable with the 50 extra pounds and comb over.

Old Dan will see it again. If not the movie…the comb over. For sure…

4) Muscle Shoals – You will hear a lot about a movie called 20 Feet from Stardom, which will win the Best Documentary on Sunday night. I saw both films and Muscle Shoals is, far and away, the better movie.

Unlike most documentaries of today’s ilk, Muscle Shoals simply wants to tell a story, not make a political or ethical statement. That gets harder to do every year. Muscle Shoals follows first one, then a second, musical studio on the shores of Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Tons of interviews with fantastic artists that recorded there. Produced hits there. And developed some magic music from great black and white artists of the 1960s and 70s.

If you like music. I guarantee that you will love this movie. It gave me hope that future music won’t suck quite near as hard as today’s music does. Of course, I still believe in the tooth fairy.

5) Before Midnight – The 3rd movie in a trilogy that follows Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy and is directed by Richard Linklater. The first of these movies starts out when the two stars meet by happenstance on a train in Europe as young college students. I always thought these movies had great potential. The romantic leads have great chemistry and intelligent dialogue is written for them and by them. But the first two fell short for me. Before Midnight follows their relationship into their 40s and a lot that comes with that aging.

The only off-putting thing in this movie is the unabashed pretentiousness. The characters are literate, lefty lucys. But they pull back from that, just when it’s getting a little nauseating - and admit they are pretentious. You won’t see that in a Woody “Rock the Cradle of Love” Allen movie.

Sit on your ass and watch it with your current bed partner. Funny, Sardonic and Romantic. Yep and that faint noise you hear in the background is Old Dan Crier.

Right now I am flying to Boston with some kind of fucking dog squealing the entire way. And it’s killing my Crying Game. Fucking DOG PEOPLE. YOU KNOW…THEY AREN’T FUCKING PEOPLE!!! FOR GOD’S SAKE. It’s okay, the passengers around me are going to charge this fucking Muslim dog. We have a plan. I HAVE A POT OF HOT COFFEE AND A BOWIE KNIFE…LET’S ROLL!!

6) We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks – Another fine, even handed documentary that is aimed at getting the truth around WikiLeaks leader Julian Assange, his co-horts and the people aiming to hunt him down and bring him to justice. We also get insight into the little cross-dressing U.S. Army freak Bradley Manning, who stole many of the classified documents for WikiLeaks.

There is no black and white here. There is no Michael ‘Fat, Fucking Idiot’ Moore agenda. But there is plenty of information from which you can form your own opinions. What a novel fucking idea. Think for yourself. Or do I have to do that for you?

Since all of the movies were released so late this year, I didn’t get a chance to see all of them, much less review all of them. I fell asleep during my first viewing of Gravity, and that seemed to work out well when I saw the entire…Shittiest Movie Of The Year. I also fell asleep in my first viewing of 12 Years a Slave. But, the first 45 minutes came nowhere close to being as the incompetent Sandra ‘Rocket Science’ Bullock. I will probably give it another shot.

And lastly, I just want to give a couple of shout outs. We lost some great talent since the last Oscars: James Gandolfini, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Harold Ramis.

To paraphrase what Dan Aykroyd said on his Facebook post about his close friend, Ramis. “May you all find the answers you’ve been looking for…like, If gay marriage is legal, then why isn’t polygamy?”

Like I said…it’s a paraphrase.

Old Dan Cedar

Old Dan Cedar’s Worst and Better Movies of 2011

Although Old Dan has missed a few movies…as we all do…one of those being The Artist which I won’t see unless I lose my ability to hear. There were metric tons of movie manure churned out during the 52 weeks of 2011… But a lot of really bad movies have been lauded as a tasty treat by critics far and wide. As an old friend of mine, Sonny Parsons, used to say, “Most of you don’t know shit from good-grade apple butter.” Now…I’m not too up on my southeast Texas colloquialisms…but, from where I sit…that’s about right. But, enough of my yakkin’…on to the 2011 Shit List.

Old Dan Cedar’s Worst Movies of 2011

1.) Rise of the Planet of the Apes
One of my favorite movies of all time, Planet of the Apes, has been bastardized, re-shaped and has thoroughly had the heart and soul taken out. It’s resorted to CGI histrionics and titanic leaps of logic to set the premise. All “animals” have inalienable rights. For some unknown reason, that one fucking word was left out of the fucking U.S. Constitution. What little joy I got from this film was that the worst fucking actor of the 21st Century, James Franco, get his lame-ass out-acted in every fucking frame of this film by a CGI Ape. Huh…Maybe the CGI Ape could actually pull off hosting the Academy Awards without being a complete tool.

2.) The Green Hornet
Ya know…I’ve never been a big fan of slapstick comedy. And since the silent era of film making has been, ya know, over…for 80 years…one would think that the era of grab-ass buffoonery would have stepped aside. But “The Brilliant” Seth Rogen – The Zionist Canuck – wants to roll back the hands of time – if not to the silent era, then to, at least, the Peter Sellers/Pink Panther nonsensical French-beloved horseshit. But what the hell does Old Dan Cedar know? If the 5,783 members of the Academy Awards voters pick a silent movie for Best Picture this year…Maybe a 2015/100th anniversary re-dux of Birth of a Nation starring Seth Rogen in black face playing the role of Black Buck Gus isn’t that much of a stretch.

3.) A Dangerous Method – Right up there with Black Swan for the most melodramatic, over-acted, pretentious, piece of shit ever put on film. Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, Keira Knightley, psycho-sexual thriller “drawn from real life.” Yeah, kind of like the yarns weaved by Joseph Smith about the golden plates. “I had them. But then I returned them to an angel. So, I can’t actually show them to you.” Sounds a tad bit far-fetched…kind of like the plot of A Dangerous Method. Now, if Mr. Smith could have just convinced the director of A Dangerous Method that God had commanded Mila Kunis to dry hump Keira Knightley…Old Dan might have become a Latter Day Saint. But, this movie would still suck.

4.) Source Code This movie was so late in the year that Old Dan didn’t have time enough to put sarcasm to paper. If time had served…the Aka…Ground Hog Train…would have been the title. The plot, for those that missed it…Dead Asshole (Jake Gyllenhaal) – in eight minute incremental countdowns, tries to save a train (at least a dozen times) full of (soon to be bombed) assholes in an “alternate universe” where time can be turned back with some kind of magic wand computer and with the mind numbing 256 Computer Graphic special effects from a 1986 cartoon episode of Lazer Tag Academy. Source Code’s gross revenue to date $123 Million. Rotten Tomatoes critics give it an aggregate score of 91%. Yeah, and Old Dan’s anus tastes as sweet as pumpkin pie.


5.) Green Lantern
– At a cost of $200 Million – this green squirting turd starring Ryan Reynolds takes the opposite superhero approach to its humor than did The Green Hornet. Where EVERYTHING is supposed to be funny in The Green Hornet…Nothing feigns personality, much less a sense of humor in, Green Lantern. Turns out…Green Lantern started with the intention to be a comedy with Jack Black in the title role. Then…after some naysaying by the Com-Con Nerds - decided to go with the much more “serious” actor…Ryan Reynolds. Ba Da Bing…Ba Da Boom…two years, two directors, four screenwriters and a post-production 3D altering later…we got this …Emerald Anal Juice.

Hey Hollywood - Just so ya know…if you want to throw some fucking money away…DAN CEDAR IS FOR HIRE.

Close But No Cigar
In a year that saw some of the worst movies of all time…and where TV…yes, The Boob Tube…offered better entertainment than the movies…it was a tough gig to pare this down to the five worst movies of 2011.

Honorable mentions:

Sucker Punch – A notch below soft-core, lesbian-prison porn. Superheroes get more scantily clad and banal by the frame.

Bridesmaids – Since the ill-fated Equal Rights Amendment went down in flames some thirty years ago…the feminists have been slowly sticking it to the man for not giving them each - their own little strap-on. Payback comes in Bridesmaids…where the chicks act like they have dicks and try to top the gross-out-boy-humor of The Hangover numbskulls.

Texas Killing Fields – So, I already knew that Sam Worthington wasn’t much of an actor. No surprise, here. But that Jessica Chastain and Chloe Grace Moretz would both end up in this Meandering Meadow Of Death is downright shocking. Both of these great actresses showed up multiple times in Old Dan Cedar’s Best Movies of 2010 and 2011.

A Separation- Iranian soap opera about a couple that hates each other. A grandfather that has Alzheimer’s and is constantly soiling himself. And the couple’s child that can’t decide with whom she wants to live. Supposedly, there is some political subtext about the Iranian government. Fuck if I know. There is NO protagonist…unless you’re cheering for the old man to not shit himself. Personally, I didn’t care if these characters lived, died, layed or prayed to Allah. NO SOUP FOR YOU!!

Old Dan Cedar’s Best Movies of 2011

The reason I saw so many movies in 2011 was because I was trying to get enough films in to get 5 movies that were great. Originally, I had settled on 4 Great and 1 Good movie. Then, I saw A Better Life.

1.) Hugo 3D – What begins as a child-like adventure through the eyes of a miscreant Dickensian orphan that keeps an old clock running in a train station - evolves into an homage into the origins of film making. Martin Scorsese directs the best 3D live action movie to date. But it’s more than just beautifully shot. Hugo balances the right amount of humor and action with a wonderful bit of acting by Ben Kingsley to top it off. Hugo got more Academy Award nominations than any other movie, but I have a bad feeling in my gut that it won’t go away with Best Picture. But, it damn well should.

2.) The Help
1960’s Jim Crowe era of African-American maids find their collective voice through the author-child of one of their Mississippi employers who has a penchant for bonding with these women, listening to their stories – and putting them to paper. Stand-out performances by Viola Davis, Jessica Chastain and Octavia Spencer. You will notice a dearth of: CGI histrionics, gun battles, and sword fights. And not a damned word on global warming…and who is causing it. And that’s how you make a winner. In a potentially dicey proposition – the director/screenwriter Tate Taylor navigates a tight set of performers, paired with some excellent writing. Biggest Surprise: Mr. Taylor, who is white, doesn’t get nominated for writing or directing The Help.

What the fuck??

Maybe we aren’t as color blind as we’d like to think. Big Fucking Newsflash.

3.) Take Shelter
– Another writer/director, Jeff Nichols, got snubbed for Take Shelter.

“Is anyone seeing this?” A question the lead character asks when terrifying storms begin to roll into his Ohio town. It’s the same question Old Dan Cedar had when I first saw Take Shelter. The answer is “No.”


Because Take Shelter was released in all of 91 theatres around this entire fucking country. Michael Shannon (Boardwalk Empire) and Jessica Chastain (Every movie made in 2011) star as wife and husband in this indie film about a couple dealing with the hubby’s paranoid slide into schizophrenia, surrounded by the impending global apocalypse. On top of that their daughter is deaf. Now quit rolling your eyes. As King Hippo would say…”This is only the premise…It’s what they do with it that matters.” The way Rocky wasn’t really a story about boxing…Take Shelter really isn’t really a story about the apocalypse or schizophrenia…it is about a family sticking together through thick and thin. You didn’t see Take Shelter the first time around. Put it in your damned DVD queue today.

4.) The Guard
Here is another one that you didn’t see and another where a writer/director was slighted - John Michael McDonagh. There seems to be a theme…huh?

The Guard plays out in Ireland where a “good old boy” Irish cop (Brendan Gleeson)…if there is such a thing…is joined by FBI sidekick (Don Cheadle). The dialogue is quick and sharp. But the brogue is thick and a little hard to understand without subtitles. As with Take Shelter - there is no tidy ending in The Guard. In an era when most comedies suck any active brain material out before you exit the theater…The Guard dips, ducks, dives and dodges. It doesn’t hit you with a wrench, but it will make you guffaw out loud with its no sacred cow wit.

5.) A Better Life
A Better Life follows an illegal Mexican immigrant, played by Demian Bichir, in his day-to-day work drudgery. He buys his boss' truck to set out on a course to make ...anyone, anyone... a better life for himself and his fourteen year old son. As anyone who has had a fourteen year old son can attest. These aren't the easiest of times. When the father buys the truck we are set down a road of adventure that leads us to a great story and a greater understanding of what most Americans don't want to see. Ya know those 'dirty Mexicans' are people too. In fact, some are really good people, if not lucky, just trying to make a day. Kiss your kids...and remember you live in the greatest country in the world. NOW, BE THANKFUL AND BE NICE - YOU ASSHOLES!!

This is where the great movies ended in 2011.

6.) The Ides of March – I was dying to find a way to take this off of my top 5 list and - ALL PRAISE TO ALLAH - I was able to move The Ides of March to number 6. But, like I said, it wasn’t a strong year for film. This is where the good movies begin. George Clooney and Ryan Gosling star as a political candidate and his chief aid. Best thing about The Ides of March is that it shows the underbelly of dirty politics and pulls no punches while doing it. Credit to Clooney who directs.

Now, If you really want to be moved by drama. You don’t have to drag your fat ass of the local fat-fuck filled gigaplex. In no particular order, here is the best of TV 2011: Homeland, Justified, Boardwalk Empire, Breaking Bad,and American Horror Story. And we don’t even have Mad Men back from hiatus.

If Hollywood has another year like 2011 – and lemmings like you keep going to see this infantile entertainment. We may change the name of our website to sarcastictvreviews. Having to watch Network TV all day.

With all apologies to William Holden…


Actually, I should probably be thankful. Sarcastic Movie Reviews are much easier to write for shitty movies.

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 3 - Aka...How NOT To Shoot A Porno


What possesses King Hippo to continue seeing these nausea fests? Is it his penchant for self-inflicted S&M? Or is it a substitute for high colonics and anorexia? Has he found the magic bullet for his chronic insomnia? Why is The King referring to himself in the third person? Could it be that he is possessed by an evil entity?

The answer to all of these questions could be related to the fact that Dan Cedar keeps me in a drug induced stupor chained to a manual Smith Corona Skyriter circa 1962 model typewriter to churn out banality and delusions of grandeur under the guise of "academic theatrical film review” with the ever-present promise that he will annually compensate me by renewing my subscription to Scouting magazine with the allure that I - King Hippo - could - one day - become an Eagle Scout if I could just successfully complete my Youth Protection Training that I have been dutifully attending and failing for the past nineteen summers at Penn State.

A one-sentence paragraph!! Take that Dan Cedar!!

So now we get the "rest of the story." This is the prequel to the previous two Paranormal Activit(ies.)

The story takes place in the late 80's - well past the dawn of Betamax, but before the advent of consumer digital recorders. Hence, we get the full force "jigglefest" camera work by Dennis, the girls' mother's shack up boyfriend, who makes a living in the "video tape industry."

Dennis, who is living his life much the way Bob Crane did after Hogan’s Heroes was canceled, convinces Julie to tape a porno one night.

King Hippo, with an equally excited Paul Reubens in tow, was on the edge of his chewing gum/artificial butter flavored popcorn ‘butter’ encrusted theater seat with anticipation at the lost art of the "big screen" porno until a poorly timed earthquake occurs, puts the kibosh on the amateur skin flick.


This is the only reason I went to see this dry heave festival!

As the movie progresses, things start to get more creepy, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda. We find out Julie's mom is a witch, that Julie can levitate in midair and that Dennis is the American hippy version of those female Chinese contortionists who can twist their bodies into impossible human pretzels.



What's next? Granddad filming snuff films at coven gatherings with his Kodak super 8 film camera and pausing the blood-letting every two and a half minutes so that he can reload a new film cartridge into the camera?

Oh shit, I just described Dan Cedar's gay S&M stag parties held every Halloween at The Castro Theatre in San Francisco. And surprisingly close to my Eagle Scout Youth Protection Training with the Nittany Lions, sans the film.

I gotta make a change…Hey Now!!

Bob Crane - you are a fucking genius!!

Note to self: Borrow Dan Cedar’s new waterproof Sony HD Camcorder (and tripod) prior to leaving for Pennsylvania next summer. They don't have earthquakes there, do they? Me thinks that King Hippo has only one more unrestricted prostate exam to give for my country’s greatest scouting honor.

My scout leader says that my asshole looks like a vagina!!

King Hippo will take that as a compliment. Along with my merit badge.

Three naybobs
King Hippo – Future Eagle Scout

RANGO - Aka... I Got a Blow Job In This Movie

No, it’s not a metaphor. And yes it was on DVD.

This brings me to my first rant of this here review. A couple of decades back I was invited by this skirt that I worked with to have her “cook me a home-cooked meal”.

Her name was Lisa. She was ok looking. But this was before science folk had taught the village idiot of the damage that could be done to her skin by the man-made, daily-dissipitating ozone layer.

Oh, I pursued and she withdrew, then she pursued and I withdrew, and so we danced. I burned for her, much like the burning during urination that I would experience soon after I fucked her – but it was not to be.

Old Dan has some standards. And one of those is – I DON’T FUCK RETARDS!!

Tell us – Old Dan - What gave her away?

Sit down on the back porch and I will clear it up for ye.

I made reference to a “metaphor” in our over-dinner gabfest. And guess what??

Miss Rawhide didn’t know what that “big word” meant.

As for Rango

That “big word” “metaphor” was used – not once, but twice. In a fucking cartoon!!

And since I am married to a woman with three times my vocabulary – we sat through the whole 98 minutes of the movie – sans explanation – though not without some oral exploration. Anyway…about the movie…

Rango is about this lizard that gets caught up in this old western town, becomes sheriff and has to save the day from the greedy politicians and bankers. It’s a hot, dry movie that takes place in a desert. I found myself trying to quench my thirst throughout. As did my wife.

The other details of Rango are irrelevant, save for this – Rango was written by a writer. Somebody that knows the nuances and deftness of the English language. Chap’s name is John Logan.

And from one literary genius to another – Old Dan salutes thee in a hearty cockney accent – “Hello, Guvner!!”

And you all may not know it, but when a writer hears good writing – it affects Old Dan Cedar a bit like seeing 10 guys playing basketball affects Lady Spamalot. My Little Dan jumped up to see what all of the hu-bub was about when he heard the clever incantations splaying forth from the blue ray. Somebody was excited. And something needed to get done about it. And fast.

And in steps my wife – one Bibs Detroit – with a fine fellatio homemade meal she cooked up with very little help from me. I think it was Italian.

And, uh Lisa…if you’re out there reading this. While your mind wanders to how your life might be different if you could afford to attend DeVry Institute while you aimlessly watch Gomer Pyle re-runs. You might want to go ahead and write down the phone number of the next commercial for Dr. Evil’s Age Restoration And Body Spa. He really CAN use a “LASER” and rid you of those age spots with NO MONEY DOWN.

And cancel the fucking tanning membership while you’re at it.

Not knowing that “big word” cost Miss Lisa the opportunity to give Old Dan Cedar a blowjob during Rango. Know why?

Cause dumb assedness turns Old Dan OFF!!

Our dinner conversation was turning ugly.

“You don’t know what a metaphor is? Really, LISA??

Well, thanks for the “homemade Ragu spaghetti”, but excuse me - I must now take my leave.”

And I did.”

Just prior to Rango’s third act - the third installment of “Old Dan’s Wives Club” was more than happy to share her own particular version of U2’s Rattle and Hum.

And with her thirst quenched and her belly full – your humble and satisfied reviewer completed Rango with my wife - draped naked across my bloated, distended gut and my sagging man boobs – passed out.

But the best part of Rango was yet to come. There was absolutely no reference to the fact that the moral of the story is that it is SO HOT because of manmade greenhouse gases or some such explanation which has become de rigueur from Hollywood kids’ mind-shaping movies of the 21st Century.

The moral of this review for everyone except Lisa: Get a blowjob during Rango and it goes from 3 Naybobs to 4. Even if the movie has to be paused in lieu of Never Ending Milfs #24 for 12 minutes.


Dan Cedar

4 Naybobs

RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES – Aka…Get Your Hands Off Me…You Damned Dirty Liberals

So, I guess one shouldn’t try to find a CGI driven movie starring two of the worst, over-actors to grace our planet of Neanderthals since the great Rod Serling co-penned the original PLANET OF THE APES and the great Mr. Fred Rogers’ first episode aired in February of 1968; John Lithgow and James Franco should be two glow-in-the dark, neon red flags, right?

The apes, after apparently having seen our military’s impotence in Afghanistan and Iraq, figure, what the hell are the fucking humans gonna do to stop them…as the goddamn apes converge on the city of San Francisco.

The apes are all smarter than the current occupant of the White House and every other human. But the King of Idiot Mountain is James 'Fucking' Franco who is fittingly cast as the MOST IDIOTIC SCIENTIST IN THE WORLD. He is willing to give up the finest, non-infected piece of ass in San Francisco, Freida Pinto, so he can let the earth be destroyed for his love of a dumb, fucking ape that is out-acting his ass in every fucking frame of film.

Yeah, I know they spoke English in the first movie and the flimsy prosthetic masks the apes were wearing can be had at Wal-Mart for $50 these days…but that was eight fucking films and a short-lived live action TV series…followed by a shitty Saturday morning cartoon. That was in the Age of Innocence…before Jimmy Carter turned this country into a police state and started shoving solar power and the metric system down my throat and up my ass.

It's a mad house! A mad house!

I fully realize this is a fictional story. But there are greater leaps of logic here than the fact that a bunch of animals can talk, smoke weed or take over the corner of Haight and Ashbury. Usually, I don’t find it essential to delve into the movie’s plot. But, the idiocy here needs to be explained to be believed.

First of all…this ASSHOLE “SCIENTIST”, James 'Fucking' Franco is in charge of an ape. He is giving the ape some “experimental drug”. The drug company that he is working for has a president that decides to take the “new drug” to its board of directors for human testing after it “succeeded” on ONE FUCKING DISASTER OF AN EXPERIMENT APE.

When this PREDICTABLY ends in a disaster…James 'Fucking' Franco decides to take the dead 'Experimental Disaster' Ape's baby home. Franco (aka..Mr. Observant) didn’t even realize the first ape was pregnant…much less had had a baby Ape. Franco names the baby Ape “Caesar”, so this in some way ties in with the first seven movies.

Since the drug company is now spooked and doesn’t want to touch his monkey…Franco decides to pout and take his ape and go home.

Here…is another little problem….James 'Fucking' Franco takes the original drug and completely reengineers the drug in his fucking apartment and injects it into his Alzheimered Daddy…the, reliably, overacting John Lithgow.

There…he teaches “Caesar” to draw, play the piano and read. “Caesar” runs across a copy of Mein Kampf…and…voila… the second coming of The Beer Hall Putsch is born.

These apes can do EVERYTHING; sign language, show compassion, vengefulness, and are virtually impervious to bullets and fucking gravity. I haven’t seen this many flying monkeys since The Wizard of Oz.

In June of 2011 U.S. Rep. Anthony Weiner announces resignation 10 days after admitting he'd sent lewd self-portraits to women online. The highlights of that month’s movie releases: Transformers (Dark of the Moon), Mr. Popper’s Penguins , The Green Lantern. And, of course, the newest incarnation in the series…The Rise of the Planet of the Apes.



Dan Cedar

1 Naybob

SHERLOCK HOLMES - A GAME OF SHADOWS - Aka Sherlock and Watson: A Game of Homos…No Shit!

Wasn't My Own Private Idaho’ andBrokeback Mountainenough? Now, instead of the Queer Nation's in-your-face, rub-your-nose-in-it blatant fag worship, we have to start watching this subliminal crap. So now we find out that Sherlock Holmes' brother is a queer; Sherlock is a cross dressing transvestite; and countless times we see Sherlock and Watson in full-fledged embraces and nose to nose contact. I'm sure the post Victorian era so openly embraced this kind of out-of-the-closet flamboyancy. Hey Guy Ritchie! Is all this really necessary? Is this why that no talent skank Madonna left your limey ass?

Actually, this movie is about out doing every other action flick before and after. In fact, the action is the sole point of this movie.

I always thought that Sherlock Holmes was more about subtlety and deductive sleuthing. He always seemed to me to be more of the Columbo type than the Dirty Harry type. Hard to imagine the Lieutenant Cyclops riffing, “Uhhh, one more thing sir…I know what you’re thinking: Did he fire six shots, or only five? Well,to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I’ve kinda lost track myself. But being this is a 44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: “Do I feel lucky?” Well do ya, punk? Would
you like to make my day?”

And while the cinematography is quite breathtaking,it's one action scene after another. Even the Indiana Jones movies had some quiet, contemplative moments - like when Dan Cedar is trying to decide which bestiality movie he wants to watch for the eightieth time.

You know, I used to think that Robert Downey Jr. was a pretty good actor. But he's becoming another Gene Hackman, Tom Cruise or Nicolas Cage - only his shtick is the charming, wise-cracking cad as opposed to Cage's high functioning manic retard, Cruise's one dimensional manic spaz, and Hackman's generic, demoralized everyman. At least Hackman can play an asshole once in a while. Maybe that’s why I feel a kindred spirit.

One bright spot in this pile of shit is redhead, Jared Harris, who more than capably plays Holmes' arch rival Professor Moriarty, and who was finally dispensed over a waterfall by Holmes in the closing moments of the film.

I can already see the sequel: Sherlock Holmes - The Return of The Ginger.

Starring, Eric Cartman. Holding two .44 Magnum’s simultaneously to both Moriarty and to Kyle’s head and muttering, “I know your kind think’s it’s the Sabbath and all. And it’s Friday and it’s dark. So, do you feel lucky, punks? Or are you gonna ask yourself one question? ‘Father, why have you forsaken me?' And make me pull these triggers.

And then one of you guys comes back to life and starts freakin’ the good people of South Park out on Sunday afternoon – right in the middle of Tim Tebow bringin’ back the Broncos from fourteen points down?

Well, to tell you the truth, with all of this Tebow excitement. I won’t discriminate whether you are a Zionist or a Ginger.



You, Ginger... .run down the street and fetch me the biggest bag of blow you can find...and You, Stan The Jew...relieve me of this Standing Hampton.


Three Naybobs

King Hip

SINISTER....Aka - Now I Remember Why I Love 8mm Snuff Films

Well, I have to admit that the previews were ten times scarier than the actual movie. However, that doesn't completely void the movie's appeal. Instead of being a complete horror fest, the movie takes a more subtle path, albeit with mass family murders as the backdrop. So even though it was filled with the usual clichés, there were enough unexpected twists to keep it interesting. Especially the "Lawn Work '86" reel.

Damn cheap ass mower blades! I have to re-sharpen them every time I hit a bump in the lawn!

Ethan Hawke plays "Daddy"- a true-crime novelist whose last big hit was years ago. Trying to rekindle the magic of his previous best seller, Hawke moves his family into a house where he plans to write his next novel. What he doesn't tell the family is that he moved them into a house in which the previous family was hung from a tree in the backyard, except that one of the children went missing afterwards. All of this to inspire his writing to greatness! Kind of like when Dan Cedar spends two weeks in gay bathhouses under the guise of "research."

As the family unloads their belongings from their move, Hawke goes up into the attic only to discover a box filled with Super 8 movie reels and a projector. He watches the film titled, "Family Hanging Out '11" only to see the family whose house he bought being living Super 8 color, no less!

As his research progresses, he compiles a list of families who have been ritually murdered, only to find out that one of the children from each family have disappeared in all cases. There seems to be no connection between the families as they have lived in all parts of the United States and are unrelated. Kind of like ‘American Horror Story’.

Working with a star struck local deputy, Hawke is put in contact with a paranormal expert who deciphers a common symbol in all of the films and tells Hawke that the demonic figure in the films is a pagan deity named Bughuul, also known as the eater of children's souls. Ironically, the Catholic Church also has their own eaters of children's souls. They're called Priests. And they eat their victims souls through their penises.

The reason there aren't many images left of the deity is that the Babylonians believed that pictures of Bughuul were a portal between his world and earth. Therefore, images of his were routinely destroyed. Now, I don’t want to cause any riots, or get any more American diplomats killed in the Middle East or northern Africa, but this seems to be closely related to the ban on the images of the Prophet Muhammad by the oil-hoarding OPEC nut bars with RPGs that are looking to turn a benign, inane film (or benign, inane website like Sarcastic Movie Reviews) into a “reason” to kill American diplomats. The only difference, of course, is that the Babylonians were working through this “thought process” in 1700 B.C. – while the Muslims are still mulling this over some 3700 fucking years later.

Sounds like some fellas that we can quickly bring on board to the modern ways of the west…with a little respectful dialogue from our government about their great contributions to science over the millennia.

Of course, if they were in the United States, Barry O. would be throwing them under the Neanderthal mental “downies” bus with Sarah Palin, Joe McCarthy and Barry Goldwater. So much for the mutual respect of all cultures and ideals.

Anyway, once again, I have run astray from my initial focus…which is to give every movie Three Naybobs.

Lucky for Hawke, he is provided an image of Bughuul in every one of the snuff films, AND then makes multiple digital copies of his visage and pins them up all over his office.


Just like those mower blades, and the ax his daughter Ashley will soon be wielding during the last family get together.

Now if you'll excuse me, King Hippo needs to do some routine maintenance on his scythe. What? Why do I need a scythe? Why in the digital age do people still make movies with 8mm film?

Just wait 3650 years and the Muslims will be “discovering” this new technology and telling us that we can’t reproduce the image of Barry O. without losing some diplomats in the process.

Don’t worry…the appeasers will blame it on some lame-ass website. Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.

I can’t wait for SINISTER 2!!

Three Naybobs

King Kutter



THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN - Aka...The Original Indiana Jones meets Let There Be Blood

So...after all these years of waiting; after the dreadful cartoon series; after foreign live action films. My childhood hero comes to life under the auspices of Messrs.’ Spielberg and Jackson.

I have to say that my expectations were high, what, with Spielberg and Jacksons' resumes.

And, of course, as with all facets of my life, I was sorely disappointed.

To the average plebian movie-goer, this was probably a very entertaining flick...A lot of people think that Tintin is just a "cartoon" - that he's just another Marvel or DC comic character...The thing is - I hold Tintin sacred...sacred.

The way a farmer looks at the earth and holds it sacred.

The way a Christian looks at the bible and holds it sacred.

The way Jews hold a kosher dog on a bun and holds it sacred.

The way some people hold marriage sacred…unlike Dan Cedar.

An acquaintance who saw Tintin told me that it was "rollicking good fun."

Is he right? I know that's the popular sentiment of most people who saw the movie. I know that's what most people publicly say about the movie...I wish I could confirm that sentiment, but I grew up on Tintin.

Like Spielberg grew up on kosher food and Jackson grew up on Jackalope.

What the hell does “kosher” even mean…My study of Wiki-Torah says the meat must be slaughtered by a Shochet (ritual slaughterer) in accordance with Jewish law and is entirely drained of blood. Before it is cooked it is soaked in water for half an hour, then placed on a perforated board and sprinkled with coarse salt (which draws out the blood) and left to sit for one hour. At the end of this time the salt is washed off and the meat is ready for cooking.

I don’t know what the hell an authentic Aborigine eats, but my guess is that Jackson wolfed down a lot of bloody Jackalope prior to the gastric bypass.

Today, a mixture of kosher meats and Jackalopes are purchased from a butcher or two. Preferably named Spielberg and Jackson. And they call it Tintin.

I'm not some slack jawed troglodyte…hoping I'm right, thinking about it...

I remember as a six year old becoming mesmerized by a Tintin serial in Children's Digest, right there in glorious black and white. And religiously checking the mailbox every day to see if the next issue arrived, hounding my parents to make sure my subscription was renewed so I would never miss an issue.


After sharing an intimate detail about my childhood fantasy friend Tintin - A feisty skirt that I bagged in my early twenties referred to me, myself, King Hippo, as the inspiration for the character of Ralphie in A Christmas Story.

“No, honey, I retorted, “That four-eyed homo LISTENED to Little Fucking Orphan Annie on the radio. Duhhhh!!”

Coincidentally, that insolent little chloroform-loving-nymph was never to be heard from again.

King Hippo may not be a "Shochet", but I will let my bloodletting speak for itself.

Arrested. Prosecuted. And Acquitted.

Thank you very much.

So the Jew and the Aborigine decided to splice together three totally different Tintin stories, make wholesale changes in characterization, and leave the casting to Homer Simpson.

Bravo! Bravo!

I will have my BLT now.

Crispy with extra salt.

Thank you very much.

Three Naybob

King Hippo


Differences between this movie and the “original” with Tobey Whatzhisface from 2002 are fairly elusive. Kind of like the differences between Grease and Grease II.

Grease and Grease II differences: Grease was a hit. Grease II was a flop. The similarities ended with the fact that both movies starred fine pieces of tail in Olivia Newton-John and Michelle Pfeiffer – fitting the FPOT roles. The differences were that ONJ could sing (and the movie had a great score) and MP was the bad girl side and the sexiest gum smacker known to Old Dan Cedar.

I recall some male stars in each movie, but I don’t recall them adding up to much of anything afterwards. Although, I think Ms. Newton-John’s co-star did go on to some under-appreciated classic films like Wild Hogs, Face/Off, Look Who’s Talking and Look Who’s Talking Too.

Don’t recall his name, but I believe he is a good man that tithes regularly to his church.

Now the fella that played opposite the gum smacker in Grease II has had a bit of a rough time of it over the last 30 years or so. Blessed with a great deal of talent, but not as well connected within the Church of Scientology. Maxwell Caulfield, although seemingly blackballed for his religious beliefs, does have a surprising connection to Spider-Man. Seems that Mr. Caulfield, provided the voice of Alistair Smythe…aka Spider-Slayer in 18 episodes of The Animated Series Spider-Man (1995-98): Smythe is a comic book super villain and part of the Marvel Universe. He is a key adversary of Spider-Man. But not in this movie.

The Amazing Spider-Man movie follows is mish-mash of stories from the original comic books; while keeping the original Peter Parker Prequel girlfriend, Gwen Stacy, and her father, the NY Police Captain, it ignores the original villains – The Green Goblin and Doc Octopus because…you know…they were used up in the first two movies. There is a new villain. The Green Snail or somesuch.

I don’t hold all of these problems against the movie. As anyone who has read any comic book knows…Continuity is going to be a problem with comic books, comic movies…and in fact, any movies.

How did Grease explain the Australian accent of its newest high school campus hottie? Uhhh, her family vacationed in the United States and liked it so much…they moved there.

How did Grease 2 explain Maxwell Caulfield’s English accent? Exchange student.

Wish I could explain my multiple failed marriages and jobs that easily.

Grease 1 – The girl is the innocent. The boy is the aggressor. Grease 2 – They switch roles. Same movie. Except the second one sucks.

In The Amazing Spider-Man – we get a different “Boy” Star, Andrew Garfield. The problem isn’t that he is 29 playing a 17 year old. The problem isn’t that it’s present day and he is using an old fashioned Yashika Electric 35mm film camera that hasn’t been manufactured since 1977. The problem IS that Andy Garfield sees himself as the next coming of Al Pacino and the overacting has begun in earnest. Hey Junior, This ain’t The Godfather or The Godfather II or Scarface. I half expected Spider-Man to pop off with, "I don't want anything to happen to him while my mother's alive."

Luckily his mom got killed in the first 10 minutes of the movie.

Emma Stone is the new gash on the block playing the love interest. I don’t claim to know who is in the closet here, but there is NO chemistry with these two. And Emma, you don’t have to go to the tanning bed, but get some orange spray-on to color up those legs. Maybe it was the 3D glasses, but you practically seared my retina every time those pale white gams refracted from the big screen.

What makes the two Spidey movies different, besides the current’s better special effects and marginal 3D benefits is that, in the end, Spider-Man 2002 was a great love story…with chemistry between Kirsten Dunst and Tobey Whatzhisface.

An unrequited love story. The best kind of love story.

Because, as we all know…there is no happily ever after.

Once you’ve slurped her sacred nectar, and she yours, to paraphrase Stephen King, “It’s nag, nag, nag.”

I would just like SOMETHING that is not a decade old re-hashing of Spider excrement for my $14.

And with this god damn electronic banking…my wife was already nagging me about wasting money before I get through the 26 minutes of previews.

I wish I could get bit by a tarantula or somesuch.

2 Naybobs

Dan Cedar

THE CABIN IN THE WOODS - Aka...The Evil Dead III ( This is after the Evil Dead 2 but before Army Of Darkness...kinda like the meal between breakfast and brunch)

The only reason I went to see this movie was all of the positive "buzz" I was hearing in the media, and not just from the "critics" but also from Joe Lunchpail. I also read where this movie is the redefining of the horror genre. REALLY? All this "movie" is is a conglomeration of every horror archetype ever created. There is NOTHING original or clever about this movie. It just happens to move seamlessly from the Evil Dead to Resident Evil to Halloween to Thir13en Ghosts. It can't even escape the Scream movies by involving people other than college teenagers. There's the jock, there's the stoner, there's the virgin, there's the slut, and there's the tortured soul.

Oooooh, so original! I had even money on The Breakfast Club breaking out.

The story begins by the jock getting his friends together to go camping one weekend at his cousin's cabin in the middle of BFE. (The editors of SMR have decided to take the politically correct high road with respect to the sensitivities of Muslims and force your humble writer to refrain from using the word "Egypt" in the same sentence as "Butt" and "Fuck.)" If the female SMR readers out there are interested to know what King Hippo looks and acts like, pay close attention to Marty...I know, you're already getting wet.

The creepiness (in the movie) begins when they stop at what appears to be an abandoned gas station. They are startled when Mordecai appears to pump their gas and insult their ladies. Note to loyal SMR readers: If you have wondered what the writer known as Abzug looks and acts like, pay close attention to Mordecai. They pull up to the spitting image Evil Dead cabin and the fun begins. The cellar door bursts open on its own and the gang head down to the basement where they find a treasure trove of weird items - supposedly hoarded by Curt's cousin over the years. As they sift through the miasma of oddities and ephemera, Dana decides to read aloud from a chapter of a book she picked up. This starts the gears turning and the fun has only begun...

Unbeknownst to the group, they are being observed by a 'higher power' deep in the bowels of the earth. And you only thought that there was no such thing as virgin sacrifice to appease the 'gods.' Geez, where the hell have YOU been? Depending on what item is picked up and explored in the cellar, determines what creep(s) the cabin visitors will encounter. Unfortunately for the group, Dana read a passage in the book that released the family from The Hills Have Eyes upon the unsuspecting campers. You don't need a creative mind to know what happens next – luckily for me.

The only problem I had with this movie was when the character Holden takes down a large heavy satanic painting which is hanging in his room only to find that there is a one way mirror that it's concealing. And guess what? Staying in the room on the other side of the mirror is the hottie virgin Dana. So, of course, Holden TELLS Dana about the mirror and they trade rooms.

WTF! If Kristen Connolly was staying in a room opposite mine with a one way mirror between us, when the weekend was over, you could just stick the painting back on the mirror with one finger when it was time to leave.

(Abrupt movie review ending.)

Three Naybobs

King Hippo

THE DEBT – Aka…Jessica Chastain Makes Wood

It’s always sexual with you, huh? That’s what my wife, Bibs Detroit, says every time she reads my reviews.

Yah, mostly…but sometimes it’s about Jews or Nazis. Huh, maybe that’s because that accounts for 69 out of every 100 movies made in Hollywood.

69…That sounds like a good number when I am thinking of ways to work Jessica Chastain into a review. Like…I would eat her 69 ways to Sunday. I would cunningly spell out the alphabet with my tongue…however many times it takes to get to 69.

If I remember my geometry correctly…the answer is pi.

Anyway…The Debt is about Jews and Nazis.

Go figure...

Not my fucking fault, HONEY!!

Jessica Chastain plays a coquettish Mossad agent back somewhere vaguely around 1969. She is trying to hunt down a bad, bad, gynecologist man that used to be…anyone…anyone…a Doctor Nazi.

Her part of the snatching involves spreading her luscious, pale thighs for the bad, bad man’s - cold, steel speculum. She and two Jewish fellas are gonna kidnap Doc Nazi and bring him back to…anyone…anyone…Israel. At this point I was so excited...I wanted to burp the baby!

So…this premise does seem to have some promise. Considering that we have to go back…meh, I dunno…three weeks…since the last movie with a somewhat similar foundation.

But you have to go way back to 1986…where Farrah Fawcett plays Beate Klarsfeld, in…anyone…anyone…Nazi Hunter: The Beate Klarsfeld Story, to find anything close to THIS kind of Hot Poon, Nazi Hunter story rendered here.

But, in this slightly more ambiguously titled, The Debt, Chastain is pulling the entire load although I am quite willing to lend a hand. She is supposed to be acting like she is attracted to Sam Worthington…yes, the Handi-Tram from Avatar. Although here - is unable to “act” like he is attracted to Chastain and therefore, must suck cock or just plain suck at…ya know…his job…ACTING!!

But the coolest thing about his character is that he switches between, an English, an Australian and a Jewish accent whenever he fucking wants. Sometimes…right in the middle of a sentence…he musters all three. In Avatar he was only able to toggle between two of those.

We, in the business, call this “not acting your way out of a fucking paper bag.”

If it hasn’t already…the movie completely falls apart when we get to the totally hot 66 year old Helen Mirren. She’s playing the Mossad chick, some thirty-years later. Although, she is now missing her cleft chin. Huh...probably some secret Hasidic plastic surgery trick.

And…she’s been living a lie for 30 years and she doesn’t give a crap that she is going to defecate on Israel and every living person on the earth by fessing up. But, no worries, at least she’ll feel better.

The truth may set her free, but in the final, contrived scene…we, the audience, get stabbed in the back by a 107 year old bald Nazi…and realize that it’s not worth the train ride. No matter what the guy screaming ‘All Aboard!!’ Is trying to tell us.

There are NO surprises, here. A JEW COLLECTS A DEBT and DAN CEDAR DRAWS WOOD. What's New?

A Debt is, in reality, what you are going to owe me for giving you a head’s up to wait for Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy if you are hoping for a good, old-fashioned, spook film.

As for me, Dan Cedar, I have my own agenda. I am watching The Debt again before I make my bald friend puke and drift off to a hastily called sword fight between Helen Mirren and Jessica Chastain. As Bibs Detroit slumbers next to me…while I put Mr. Kleenex's kids through college.

Dan Cedar

2 Naybobs

THE DICTATOR…Aka – The Prophet and The Pope Walk Into A Bar

OK, so the Aka…is just testing the waters to see if a Fatwa will be bestowed on Old Dan Cedar by some nutty Ayatollah. And so, in close proximity, is the trouble with making a comedy about a lovable dictator.

The landmines are scattered just beneath the surface. And there is no Princess of Wales posing for the cameras to bring attention to the need to End Landmines globally, while she covertly slips out the back to blow Dodi Fayed speeding through the streets of gay Paris.

Political Correctness Abounds.

So, the dictator can’t be from the Middle East…that offends the Arabs. So, he is from North Africa.

He can’t really be Black…that offends the large African money stream that would be drawn to the box office.

He can’t really kill his subjects…that
offends the audience who would like to laugh at a comedy and not be forced to watch the Socialist/Zionist Habonim Dror Youth Theatre Troupe.

He can’t show his dick…because, ya know, that would be something Sacha Baron Cohen does in EVERY movie.

Ooooppss, I forgot…the dictator pulls his pecker
out once again, because….FUCK IF I KNOW.

So, what we end up with is a story arc that could have been drawn up by a six year old, Downs Syndrome Neanderthal.

  1. The Dictator shows his ass.
  2. The Dictator comes to America.
  3. The Dictator shows his ass and his uncircumcised cock.
  4. The Dictator falls in love.
  5. The Dictator turns into a pussy to get laid.
  6. Happy, Sappy Ending.

And there you have it. $140 million box office gross.

And we’re all duly impressed.

We get to laugh a little.

We just don’t actually laugh enough in the eighty three minutes to suppress the sixty days of porcelain crackling diarrhea that is sure to follow.

All praise to Allah or Yahweh….whichever god was responsible for the discovery of Imodium.

Dan Cedar, with god’s will, lives to loaf another day.

-Old Dan Cedar

2 Naybobs


Ever wonder what happened to the von Trapp clan after they fled Austria and the Nazis? Apparently, they ended up in Sweden and not Switzerland after the war. And a more dysfunctional family they could not be... As the story reveals, a couple of the kids became Nazis, others businessmen, others lushes, and as the sordid story unfolds, a couple became sociopaths.

Which I find quite intoxicating for the male, but, oh, so shameful for the fairer sex.

The first of a trilogy by Swedish novelist Stieg Larsson originally titled Men Who Hate Women. Ironically enough, a close title of Dan Cedar's autobiography, Pussy Whipped Asshole Who Can't Live Without Women. And, to save the aforementioned Editor time and brain cells, King Hippo's autobiography, Men Who Hate Women, Men, AND Children – except for Helen Keller.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo opens with disgraced investigational journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) being summoned by retired wealthy industrialist Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) to find out what happened to his teenaged niece who disappeared from a family get- together 40 years ago. The reason Mikael takes the job is that he's been black listed because he lost a libel suit brought by a corrupt businessman and Henrik has evidence which could help Blomkvist's case. Isn't that the classic liberal way to gather data? "I don't have any proof, but I KNOW it's true!" Typical.

Don’t you think at this point in his cock crusading life that Christopher Plummer would give up just about any “data” for a former 007’s hummer in the back of his Audi?

Think outside the box…shitheads.

Computer hacker Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara) is enlisted to assist Blomkvist in his investigation. Unlike Blomkvist's middle class status, Goth punker Salander is still a ward of the state and has to report to her case worker on a regular basis in order to receive financial assistance. Oh, yeah…everyone’s on the government dole in Europe.

As (bad) luck would have it, her current case worker falls ill and she is reassigned to a fat rapist fuck who proceeds to give her asshole a stretching that would make a room of pornstars give her a standing "O".

Cue Rodgers and Hammerstein's "My Favorite Things:" Suck me and swallow you Goth slut with piercings/Come to my house and fuck your misgivings, Bind you to bedposts and rip off your jeans/Forced anal sex is my favorite thing...this is where the movie REALLY connected with your humble reviewer…King Hippo.

As the investigation proceeds, a disturbing pattern emerges of unsolved rape/torture/murders of women is towns where the Vanger family has either business interests or factories. And the common denominator seems to be former Nazi, Gottfried Vanger. I can hear him humming to "Sixteen Going On Seventeen:" You wait little girl/On an empty stage/For fate to turn the light on, Your life little girl/Is an empty page/That men will want to carve on, I've killed 16, going on 17/Baby it's time to think/Better beware/Be canny and careful/Baby you're only meat...

The only problem is that Gottfried has been dead for many years and the serial killings continue.

As Blomkvist later finds, Martin Vanger - Gottfried's son - has continued the family tradition. As the saying goes, "like father, like son." As Martin prepares his vivisecting tools, I can hear him singing: The hills are alive/with the sound of screaming, With screams that have been heard/through my basement walls...

Of course, our heroine Salander comes to rescue Blomkvist in the nick of time and tees off on Martin's face like Tiger Woods on a Bunny Ranch hooker. As it turns out, all Blomkvist needed to nail Hans-Erik Wennerstrom (the corrupt businessman) was Salander's help - who manages to empty Wennerstrom's offshore bank accounts and send him into a suicidal spiral.

Fancying themselves quite a team, Salander uses some of her ill-gotten loot to buy Blomqvist an expensive leather jacket with which she intends to surprise him at his office. As she arrives, she spys serial philanderer Blomquivst leave the building hand in hand with his boss (Robin Wright.)

Heartbroken, she tosses the jacket in the dumpster and starts to sing, So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good night/I hate to go and leave this pretty sight, So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye/I hope, to god, you burn in hell and die...

No doubt Salander is hard at work on her autobiography, Why Men Are Scum. Should she deem some deep cover insight…King Hippo is more than glad to show her the ropes…my ropes. And if you are sweet…maybe my basement.

5 naybobs

King Hippo

THE GUARD - Aka...Why We Watch

YOU remember IT don’t you? Or maybe it was several ITS.

That moment or moments that made you realize that YOU were different. YOU weren’t the same as the rest of the dullards and dimwits that just didn’t get IT.

For your humble reviewer Old Dan Cedar there were several transformational moments. The first was January 6, 1947, while distracted from a meandering speech by Harry S. Truman blaring over my father’s Zenith 8H034 radio in my hometown of Mianus, Connecticut…I reached down and happily Christopher Columbused my little pecker…dreaming of my future as a Thomas Dewey Republican.

For King Hippo, my lifelong nemesis and future writing collaborator…it was June 2, 1982 when he realized that his chud-like facial appearance could be easily overcome with a $5 bill clumsily thrust in the spooge encrusted thong of a topless “dancer” wearing copious amounts of Chanel No.5, named “Star”, at Heartbreaker’s Gentlemen’s Club in Dickinson, Texas. With no extra charge for the cottage cheese mud flaps. And The King dreamt of a life-long romance.

Old Dan is not Irish, but I am of Irish descent. And yes, my viewing of The Guard on January 24, 2012, was another of my IT moments.

While watching The Guard, your humble reviewer, Old Dan, dreamily meandered as to why I wanted to begin reviewing movies in the first place. I had just seen Raising Arizona.

It was March 7, 1987, and Sarcastic Movie was not even a glimmer in my eye. But, when I walked out of Raising Arizona, I had an IT moment and knew that I needed to share the greatness of this idiosyncratic movie with unconventional characters that evokes pathos through their struggles.

Whether it was going to be seen…or not…IT needed to be seen.

The Guard must be seen, also.

IT is a story of an Irish cop played brilliantly by Brendan Gleeson. A rapier witted comedy that is unconventional in both sardonic tone and repartee’. Written and Directed by John Michael McDonagh…with both an Irish brogue and temperament.




Put on the closed captioning. Pay attention. And Keep up.

The introduction of Don Cheadle as an American FBI sidekick sent to track down some drug lords makes for a truly laugh-out –loud, irreverent, no sacred cow comedy.

What is it??

Beverly Hills Cop Goes To Ireland, or The Irish Lethal Weapon…Yeah, but better than that. It is good. Like in a dream you can’t believe.

Much like November 22, 1963 was when I sat in on my first city council meeting in Mianus, Connecticut.

I was mesmerized. That day changed my life forever. I found out what true public service was… listening to the city council and mayor drone on endlessly about Camelot lost.

And I dreamed on further into the future…

I realized that I wanted to spend the rest of my life making Mianus a place where all parents are strong and wise and capable. And all the children are happy and beloved.

If not Mianus, then a land not too far away.

I don’t know.

Maybe, it was Utah.

Or maybe, it was just fuckin’ Ireland.

Pathos, my arse.

THE HELP - Aka...And You Thought Nell Carter Was Fat

It’s hard to believe that during the burgeoning civil rights movement…Gene Roddenberry was hurling the likes of James T. Kirk and Mr. Spock through the galaxy at warp speed on a space ship that was being serviced by an inter-galactic switchboard operator…the lovely Lietenant Uhura. This eventually led to the, now historical, first interracial kiss on American television between Kirk and Uhura.

This is where my space/time continuum begins to blur…let’s do the Time Warp, Again.

In The Help, we are transported back to the waning days of Jim Crow in segregated Mississippi where wealthy white folk treated blacks like complete shit with barely more than a whimper of bitching and complaining.

So, the crux of this here movie is how one of these debutante’s decides that her feminist, rebellious inclinations can be best utilized by gathering stories from the local, Fat-ASS maids that wait on every beckon call of their employers. Cooking their fried chicken, raising their babies and polishing their brass.

Now, generally, Old Dan Cedar is not one to imbibe in what my Neanderthal mind calls a chick flick. Especially when it clocks in at 2 hours and 26 minutes. Generally, I feel like Ferris Bueller’s dad stuck driving behind the old beehive as she weaves left…then right… at 14mph through the suburban streets of Chicago. With Bueller Senior trying to whisk her away with several hand swats.

But, I gotta tell you….The Help didn’t seem to be dawdling as much as I expected. And yes…Old Dan Crier made several appearances. Though my cynical mind kept trying to pick at the very real inadequacies and maudlin attempts to play on the emotional weakness of the fairer sex…The Goddamn Movie works…even though it ain’t perfect.

Jessica Chastain once again proves her greatness as a hilarious, busty, outcast debutante that can’t cook and doesn’t know nothin’ about birthing no babies. And Octavia Spencer is a funny, fucking maid in a female Rochester mode (from Jack Benny) with a penchant for frying up chicken and baking fecal pies.

Understand the back drop of this being one of the shittiest years for movies since...I dunno...last year. But what do you expect? Hollywood is reporting tons of income and almost zero originality. Consider this…as of December 17, 2011 – there is exactly ONE film of the top 10 grossing films of 2011 that is NOT a sequel. That would be Rio….which…I wholeheartedly predict will have a sequel in the not too distance future.

The Help doesn’t seem to lend itself to an offspring, but don’t be surprised if the maid that walks off of her job at the end…doesn’t get melded into some fucking Tyler Perry-type spin off - that bastardizes her character into some Diary Of A Mad Black Woman II which conjures up positive messages about self-worth, love and respect.

Cue the retching


Let’s do the Time Warp, Again. It’s just a jump to the left…

The name of that first successful TV pilot for Star Trek…”Where No Man Has Gone Before.”

But they’ve gone plenty times since.

After six television series and eleven movies (and counting) …who can blame the rehashing?

After all…it’s all about the cold, hard cash.

And that’s some cold, hard Vulcan logic.

Luckily, The Help, is about more than that. It reminds cold-hearted old men about how bad things were and even if it glosses over a few of the cold, hard facts…it is the best movie of this rotten lot of 2011…so far.

Old Dan Cedar

5 Naybobs

THE HOBBIT - Aka…We Don't Need No Steenking Guns To Kill Orcs And Goblins

Gollum's Daily Dork Riddle: Who does Dan Cedar most resemble?

A) An Orc B) A Goblin C) A Troll D) A Dwarf

So, a slimmed down Peter Jackson decided to take on the Herculean task of a new Middle Earth trilogy...mmm Hobbit stew.

I have to admit, King Hippo being the closet nerd and all that entails, that he was/is, excited to hear that there would be a new series of Hobbit movies, being that the original trilogy is the best film making in history...and also being that this the only type of movie Jackson is good at...mmm dangling prepositions.

I wasn't holding my breath, however, being that I didn't see how he was going to stretch the original Hobbit novel into nine hours of edge-of-the-seat drama. And a royal "Fuck You, Motherfucker" to any of you douchebags that fell asleep during any of the previous three movies. Of course, this would entail much artistic license with respect to the original story. But Jackson being of the jackalope ingesting aboriginal sort, was definitely up to the job.

The Hobbit is the prequel to the original Lord Of The Rings trilogy, much like the George Lucas prequels to the original Star Wars trilogy, only this one doesn't SUCK. Basically, this is the story of Bilbo Baggins before he got old and grouchy.

The first installment revolves around the tale of how the Jew elves lost their mountain retreat and $crooge McDuck-like vault (filled with gold and jewelry) because of a dragon who decided his squatting rights outweighed the Jew elves' right to have a homestead.

Hmm, sounds just like the jack booted tactics of the way the American government has treated the Native American tribes that were here long before the Anglo-Saxons brought syphilis, small pox and yes, eventually AIDS, to this once-great continent. And don’t even get me started on how this country is going to hang out Israel to dry for the next four years, because you anti-Semitic rubes are still holding grudges against the good people of Jewish heritage.

Oh, how quickly we forget our history.

Remember, it was the Romans that killed Jesus, not the Jews. Yet, somehow, these Wops just wash away history with their sordid lies, give the pope a hundred acres, let him call it “Vatican City” and all hail the REAL purveyors of the crucifixion.

Does the name Pontius Pilate ring a bell? Duh!!

Anyway, I’ve been watching too many shows on the history of the beginnings of Christendom in this most blessed of holiday seasons and yes, once again, I’ve digressed.

So Gandalf enlists Bilbo with a group of guerilla elves to hatch a plan to take back the elves' original mountain home (Israel). In the process, we find out how Bilbo came into the possession of Gollum's gold ring, Precious.

Hint: It has something to do with the Nazis.

We also find out how Dan Cedar's three-chin visage inspired Jackson to create the goblin king character, Scrotum Chin.

So without further ado, the answer to Gollum's riddle is:

E) An unholy amalgamation of all of the above (After Old Dan Cedar’s upcoming gastric bypass).

4 Naybobs

“King” Hippo…Aka - INRI

THE HUNGER GAMES - Aka...Obama's America

I had my doubts after the first 15 minutes of this flick...I let out a mental groan as I girded myself for another Running Man or Death Race 2000...or Death Race...or Death Race 2. Whatever the sequel may be, I was ready to let out a King Hippo roar if Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Arnold Schwarzenegger, or David Carradine entered stage right. Thankfully, the theater crowd got a reprieve and was deprived of a pissed off King Hippo grunt and subsequent grass brick turd launch. On the minus side, I still had to put up with uber-lib Donald Sutherland as the president of Panem, the post-apocalyptic world that used to be the United States.

It seems that the surrounding 12 'districts' must pay the capitol penance each year by selecting two contestants between the ages of 12 and 18 to participate in a free-for-all to the death where only one man is left standing. Of course, the carnage is televised throughout the city and surrounding districts ala Who Wants To Be A Millionaire style.

I must admit, Stanley Tucci and Toby Jones shine as Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith - our John Madden and Pat Summerall blow by blow analysts. Note to readers: If you've ever wondered what Dan Cedar looks and acts like - pay close attention to Claudius Templesmith.

The rest of the movie revolves around our erstwhile Tori Amos look alike heroine Katniss Everdeen negotiating the formidable pitfalls of the battlefield and the other combatants. Jennifer Lawrence's performance is sublime. I have to remind myself that there are actually ACTORS out there in filmland, despite the usual gang of no talent faggots like Nicolas Cage and Samuel L. Jackson who seem to pop up in every other movie made. And by ‘faggots’…I am using it in the same way that Mark Knopfler used the phrase in the god awful song, ‘I Want My MTV’, back in the 1980s (the worst decade of music since Scott Joplin plied that Ragtime shit on this once, great nation).

But, I digress…I just have one gripe with this story: the age range of the contestants is 12 to 18.


How about a fucking contest between 18 and 80 year olds? How about a dancing contest between the deaf and the blind? How about a tanning contest between Nigerians and Gingers? How about a foot race between Stephen Hawking and Usain Bolt? How about a cocksucking contest between Linda Lovelace and Dan Cedar? Ok, that last one may be a toss-up.

So, to highlight Obama's America: 1) have a permanent uneducated working class to do your menial labor and to vote for you at every election because they're such ignorant dumbfucks. 2) have most of the people who work in your society - work only for the government so therefore, they will vote for you to keep their jobs. 3) have a bourgeoisie class of mindless, self-absorbed do-nothings living off the government teat so they will vote for you. 4) have the liberal cocksucking elites run everything, because, of course, libs are the smartest people on the face of the earth. Especially that Kenyan/Marxist that currently inhabits the White House.

Lastly, to paraphrase President Sutherland, "Do you know what keeps the masses in line?" "Hope." How's all that 'hope and change' working out for you fuckhead lemmings? Just as I thought.

Yeah, I know…I digressed again!!


Four Naybobs

King Hippo

THE PURGE - Aka...The Urge

So the King has decided to boycott sequels from now on. Therefore, you will no longer find reviews dealing with "paranormal activities," "star treks," "hangovers," or other such vile dreck anymore. With rare exception, there has never been a sequel that even matched the original, and I have now come to the realization that sequels are purely attempts to milk a successful movie until it is a dead horse. Being the animal lover that I am, I will no longer condone the meaningless deaths of innocent equines. Remember…Hippos are not the quickest witted creatures on earth, and I just read on Wikipedia that “Hippo” is ancient Greek for “horse”. To paraphrase the great Willie Nelson, I dedicate this review to all of the whores I’ve loved.

I wasn't as enthralled with this movie, as most of the "critics” proclaimed it such an "intelligent thriller." Is this because the antagonist is "polite”? Is it because the movie is based in a suburban neighborhood and not the inner city? No. It is because a cracker family gives sanctuary to a "brother" and isn't trying to lynch him - unlike the rest of the neighborhood. So the era of the politically correct horror movie begins...

The year is 2022, no doubt Barack Obama's fourth term, after he overturned - by executive decree - the term limits statutes for presidents à la his crippled Mentoring Marxist president for life, Franklin Delano. And, as is par for quasi communist/socialist governments, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer and the middle class joins the ranks of the poor. And, as a result, crime increases and tensions rise. And, a bright idea is born - why not designate one 12 hour period – once a year - when all crime is legal, except, of course, for the ruling elite, who are always exempt from all laws and rules passed by them? So, let the proletariat get rid of their pent up aggression, cull the weak and stupid, and decrease the human over-population.

Enter Ethan Hawke, father of the typical upper middle class American nuclear family. Here’s a clue…it ain’t Ozzie and Harriet.

The catch is that he's made his upper middle class living off of selling other similar families' "lock down" security systems for their homes used mainly for this one day of the year. And neighbors, being the non-grudge holding, accommodating, and helpful folk they are, take notice when Hawke adds a huge addition to his house - from bonus money made selling security systems in his neighborhood. Fucking salesmen, always provoking others to "keep up with the Joneses." Or, in this case, the "Sandins."- Or, in my case, the "Cedars."

Anyway, on the fateful night, the Sandin residence is breached by nothing more than a group of teenage preppies, a redneck pickup and a quarter inch chain. Wow. King Hippo’s third cousin, Ariel Castro, of Cleveland, OH, fortified his house better than that with nothing more than half inch Home Depot plywood and flea market bookcases. Jeez, I'd be asking for a refund after THAT cluster fuck. I have fifth hand knowledge that Wal-Mart, indeed, did not even ATTEMPT to post bail for Ariel. And believe it or not, I would help, Cousin Ariel…but The King is a little short this month.

Anyway, King Hippo has just finished soundproofing and fortifying his SIX chamber basement at great expense. Thank you Lowe’s for my zero percent for 24 months, line of credit.

AND, THE KING…has TWO, LOVING offspring on the way.

Thanks to the nubile, twenty-somethings of chambers 2 and 5.

Top that, Cedar, you yuppie pussy.

See you in 2022!!

I would suggest buying your guns NOW…

Three Naybobs

King Hippo

THE WOMAN IN BLACK - Aka…Daniel Radcliffe and Dan Cedar Are Identical Twins Separated at Birth

So after years of playing a teenaged dork in the Harry Potter movies, Daniel Radcliffe decides to spread his wings and become the protagonist in this "classic" horror movie. "Classic" in a gothic sense, with the obligatory "jump" scares and dim lighting that gives it that film noire feeling.

Sort of like when Dan Cedar invites you over to his house for a drink only to enter a completely dark living room...and the next thing you know, his goatee is pressed up into your crotch. YIKES!

OK – So, I wasn’t invited. I thought there was a birthday party…and EVERYONE was fucking late.


One Better? This movie has broken records - after becoming the UK’s highest grossing British horror film since records began 20 years ago. DOUBLE YIKES!!

Luckily Old Dan’s moobs are bigger than any woman that your humble reviewer, King Hippo, has ‘dated’ (i.e. felt up in a darkened theater). If she ‘card’s’ her way into an R rated film without my assistance…I don’t have to worry about any troublesome parole violations. Naa...Na…Naa…Na…Boo…Boo!!

It’s a joke, granny! Get over it!! Next thing you know you’ll be yelling at the grandkids about playing Quidditch on your broom!! Ya see, this is why I never had kids. But, I digress…

Anyway, this movie breaks no new ground. Radcliffe is the mourning solicitor who is sent out of town to get his mind off his recently deceased wife and to encourage him to become a productive lawyer once again. His instructions are to wade through the paperwork of a recently deceased client of the firm. Just Radcliffe's luck it happens to be the "haunted" house out in the moors (not moops or moobs) at the outskirts of town.

The ghost who haunts the house is the sister of the recently deceased widow. It seems the sister's son was drowned in the moors and his body was never found. So the sister cursed the entire town with the deaths of sons and daughters. The only catch is that the particular son or daughter that is killed has to come into contact with someone who has seen the ghost.

So of course, Radcliffe shuffles back and forth between the house and town, continually seeing the ghost and then interacting with everyone's children. Nice going, Typhoid Mary!

And in typical heroic fashion, he decides to trawl the moors, yes, the moors, to find the body of the long dead son so that the remains can be properly buried and his ghost mother can find her peace and the townspeople don't have to worry about their kids anymore. The only problem is that the ghost wants none of this.

Hey Radcliffe! You should have learned this in various Naomi Watts flicks which were direct ripoffs of Japanese "Obake" movies. No Dan, I did NOT say "Bukkake."

Settle down!!

Without revealing the ending, the movie goer is left wondering, as much as this movie goer’s mind can wonder, if the ghost did find her peace...or if she's still a raging bitch.


Daniel Radcliffe is still a fucking dork...and Dan Cedar is his identical twin.

Three Naybobs

King Hippo

TINKER, TAILOR, SOLDIER, SPY - Aka…Cine de Walmart

This particular AMC 30 that had I vowed to never attend again - got my business because I was hamstrung by my limited choices for Tinker. Even tho there seemed a dearth of republicans in the vast gigaplex - I was able to find a white flight suburb within the walls of this, here british import-redux of John le Carré’s 1974 cold war, spy novel.

And I, for the first time since sitting through 2010’s The King’s Speech, felt like a mere pup amongst my fellow interested patrons…most born prior to Winston Churchill.

But let me tell you…the walk in from the parking lot was an adventure. While confidently packing my newly purchased 9mm Glock…I was only slightly fazed by the multiple offers to sell me crack cocaine, tamales and the monetary solicitations from the homeless loitering en masse in front of the AMC.

As I entered the AMC Cine de Walmart Treinta-Plex, my nasal passages were infiltrated with the aroma of cornbread and collard green farts wafting in the air.

As for the movie…I REALLY wanted to like TTSS. Great cinematography… Gritty …setting the mood of both the 1970s and the Cold War. But the true point of a spy film is not its grittiness or mood. It is the story and how it unfolds that narrative while interspersing clues and clearing up questions…if not the fart vapors of the AMC.

Therein lies the problem with TTSS…this 2 hour film was condensed from a 318 page novel which later became a nearly 5 hour BBC mini-series. Since I hadn’t previously eaten at the trough of either of these epics…Old Dan Cedar, your humble reviewer, was relying on the movie to guide me through this heaping helping.

When reading other reviews for TTSS, I got the feeling that some of my more well-versed brethren were familiar with one or both of the previous incarnations. I feel like something got lost in the translation, or maybe…just maybe…Old Dan Cedar is a MO-RON.

I mean the fucking reviews are gushing…

“A thrilling masterpiece.”

“A well-paced, good old-fashioned spook story.”

“A Rose in a throng of thorny, shit-for-brained movies of 2011.”

OK…I admit that I made up that last one. Nevertheless…there was way too damned much gushing over Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

Run-on sentence warning: Generally, if I come home and have to read a Wikipedia page to fully comprehend what I just saw paid $10 dollars to see at a movie, watching the Gary Oldman/Colin Firth combo spend the better part of their time imitating Dwayne Wade/LeBron James struggling for control of the spotlight, with Oldman taking the most of the big shots…and if a story can be explained on a webpage…one would think it could be mastered in a 2 hour movie.

By the end of my viewing…the only farts I was whiffing…were those of the English variety emanating from the screen…a potpourri of traditional Old English nourishment.

Shakespeare’s Juliet with one line encapsulates Romeo and Juliet:

“What's in a name? That which we call a 'rose' by any other name would smell as sweet."

Sarcastic Movie Review’s Old Dan Cedar with one line encapsulates Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy:

“What’s in a name? That which we call a 'trouser cough' by might smell as sweet as anally derived…Crumpets, Tea, Shepherd’s Pie.”

2 Naybobs

Old Dan Cedar

TREE OF LIFE - Aka...Daddy's Wet Dream

Considering the Aka (above), and wondering how King Hippo would go about summarizing this movie…I am sure 'The King' would try to make some tie-in to this movie and what he considers the greatest rock and roll band of all-time…Black Oak Arkansas.

Where a normal person might see The Tree of Rock and Roll spreading its roots from the beginnings of Gospel and Blues, Elvis and The Beatles…King Hippo’s source that he relates everything relevant - comes back to, what else, the God forsaken 1970s and BOA led by the raspy voice and on-stage histrionics of vocalist Jim ‘Dandy’ Mangrum.

Luckily for you…Old Dan Cedar saw this movie and is reviewing this film. Specifically, because Tree Of Life DOESN’T include any reference material to early 20th century comic books, banal ‘action’, Stax Records and/or 1970s Southern Rock…it slipped under the King Hippo Radar.

I got this movie and got to see the ginchy greatness of Jessica Chastain.

While Old Dan Cedar was meandering through Junior College with a remote control in one hand and a jar of Vaseline close-by the other, Miss Chastain was getting born.

And now, in 2011, she has started to make a big mark on Hollywood. In Tree of Life she plays the perfect wife and mother. Translation…hot and meek.

A pale, skinny red-head that barely utters a word…while married to Brad Pitt in circa early 1960s Texas. She births three boys and barely utters a moan.

Pitt treats her like complete shit. Her kids treat her like she is a human trampoline.

Barely a peep.

My kinda gal.

What say you, King Hippo??

Sorry, I saw her first.

I haven’t seen any of the other movies that Miss Chastain has been in, but if she ‘acts’ like this in these other roles…then I, Old Dan Cedar, may just have to give her a ring-a-ding-ding.

Tree of Life takes us through the upbringing of the three Texas lads by their asshole father and by their mother who carries grace and kindness with her everywhere. She lives the example set by Jesus. Barefoot and willing to turn the other cheek.

Not to mention HOT and KNOCKED UP for much of the first-half of the movie.

Is Tree of Life a perfect movie??

Well…she doesn’t get nekkid if that’s what yer talkin’ about.

And there is quite a bit of dead air…staring out into the Hubble photographed cosmos and a completely, misplaced flashback to the Jurassic days of Texas’ earliest inhabitants.

It’s a movie that strives for greatness, but comes up a little shy.

Turns out the kids love daddy more because he treats them like shit.

My kinda boys.

Luckily, the flashbacks in the movie - skip over the god forsaken 1970s. Thereby, removing any chance of a Black Oak Arkansas reference and to the Tree of Rock and Roll that led to the amalgamation of one, David Lee Roth.

Maybe when Terrence Malick gets around to making another film in 15 years…he can get to work on that subject.

And King Hippo will have his remote control and jar of Vaseline close at hand.

And Dan Cedar will be lying in the emaciated, ginchy arms of one, Jessica Chastain. Come to Daddy!!

Old Dan Cedar

4 Naybobs

UNKNOWN - Aka...I Would Eat January Jones' Ass...Oh, Sorry. Was I Supposed To Be Paying Attention To The Plot?

I guess Liam Neeson has taken the baton from Harrison Ford, who initially took the hand-off from Steve McQueen. I wonder who's anchoring this relay. It appears Neeson has comfortably eased himself into the entertaining, yet predictable, action hero mode, sans the Schwarzenegger/Stallone steroid physique...and the plastic surgery...and the ass ugly mistresses. But I digress...

Anyway, Neeson plays Dr. Martin Harris who is traveling with his wife Elizabeth(January Jones)to give a talk at a biotechnology summit in Berlin. After arriving at their hotel, he rushes back in the taxi to retrieve his briefcase which he forgot at the airport. On the way back, the taxi is involved in an accident in which Neeson's head is cracked open and he is thrown into a canal.

The female taxi driver bravely dives into the icy water to save the unconscious Dr. Harris. Don’t get that kind of service in the Cash Cab - especially if you’re an innocent, dim-witted pedestrian on the streets of Vancouver.

Upon awakening several days later at a local hospital Neeson finds that he cannot remember much. He finally does remember his wife, which hotel they are staying, and the talk he is supposed to give at the conference. The talk was entitled, “Geez, I would really like to eat my wife’s ass.”


Only in a half-ass conceived movie or a half-ass movie review by one King Hippo.

The only problem is that the people he thought he knew have no clue who ’he’ is...or are acting like they don't know him.

Oooooooh, scary. Kind of like when Dan Cedar shows up at his family reunion...dressed like Dr. Frank-N-Furter bursting out into song every five minutes.

The other problem is that all of a sudden surly creeps are trying to kill Neeson and anyone associated with him...kind of like when Dan Cedar shows up at his family reunion...dressed like Dr. Frank-N-Furter.

Luckily Dr. Harris has his martial art skills come back to him and Dr. Frank-N-Furter has his cleaver.

Maaa!!! AGAIN…where’s my fucking Meatloaf?

Ok, here's the problem with this movie. It's already been done - it's called The Bourne Identity – not The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Every one of you, but Dan, already knew that.

The plot takes an interesting twist, and, unlike all you geniuses out there who ”knew” right off the bat what was going on, King Hippo was blissfully in the dark about what the hell was going on until the 2/3rd point of the movie. Kind of like the last nurse I dated. It took her awhile to figure out “just the tip” wasn’t six inches.

That makes me 1/3 smarter and more well hung than Dan Cedar, who, undoubtedly would have exclaimed at the very end, "I don't get it!"

As for the nurse – she did.

Her rectal temperature was measured at a perfectly deep fried 98.6 Fahrenheit.

Even in January.


Only in a half-ass movie review on this wit-forsaken website.

Five Naybobs for January Jones

Three Naybobs for the movie

King Hipster

WHITE HOUSE DOWN - Aka...Ok, Let Me Get This Straight...The GOP Is The Greatest Risk To National Security? AH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!

First off, the ONLY reason I went to see this steaming pile of festering ape guano was that everyone I know who saw it recommended it wholeheartedly. This explains why King Hippo has such low tolerance to 90% of American and why I have so few friends - the population of complete IDIOTS that live in society! Hopefully, Channing Tatum resists trying to be typecast as the next Bruce Willis, as he's actually much more versatile than that. However, this movie could have just as easily been titled Die Hard 13.

The other clues that this movie was complete and utter fiction is that uber prick face Jamie Foxx is cast as the President of the United States, no doubt, to portray our current Tsar in Chief as someone actually heroic. Let me make this clear. Your humble servant, King Hippo, doesn’t mind having a black man in the White House. What I DO have a problem with is that OUR country will accept that this will happen, yet once again, in the next millennium…and now this is an accepted part of OUR society???

My God!!! Help us All!!! The END IS NIGH!!!

The second clue is that uber pig face Maggie Gyllenhaal is the head of the Secret Service. That dumb bitch couldn't be the head slop server in an elementary school cafeteria line. And I’m not just talking out of my ass. I did that job working my way through Texas Tech.

So the gist of the story is that the GOP, along with other "right winged" connected DC power brokers, plan to assassinate the president and unleash global nuclear carnage, mainly in the middle east. What the hell is wrong with that? The fucking Japs couldn't bow down fast enough at our feet once the Little Boy (Dan Cedar's penis) and the Fat Man (Dan Cedar's distended gut) were unleashed on their rice eating asses. You wipe out half the Muslim population with nukes and sterilize the rest - what do you get? Peace.

Maybe that’s what Hippy Boy…hmmm…hmmm….I mean the GREAT JOHN LENNON was singing about in bed with Yoko the Slopo, with Let’s Give Peace a Chance. He wanted to napalm her ass just as bad as the rest of us did. He just couldn’t leave her, face the camera, and say, “Okay blokes, ya got me. McCartney’s got all the talent…I don’t have the talent to clean his jockstrap."

If you douchebag libs haven't noticed, YOUR idol and cummander in chief is tapping YOUR phone calls and wants to allow killer drones to eliminate American citizens that HE deems a threat…on American soil, no less; YOUR cummunity organizer in chief wants open borders and illegal voters and voter fraud; YOUR career academic refuses to acknowledge Muslim terrorism; YOUR so called "cumstitutional lawyer" wants to take away the second amendment rights WHILE giving Mexican drug cartels American made assault weapons; YOUR racist-in-chief ROUTINELY pits Americans against one another with made up homophobic /misogynistic /racist bullshit fairytales, and sticks his simian nose into local matters instead of doing the job he was elected to do. If you haven’t noticed..That’s King Hippo’s Job!!!

After the producers and writers exhausted every Republican /Conservative /Christian cliché, you would have thought that they could have put the fitting icing on the proverbial cake - Dan Cedar dressed like Stacee Jaxx belting out his version of Europe's The Final Countdown during the closing credits. What a putrid cesspool.

On this, the 50th anniversary of the great Martin Luther King's 'I Have a Dream Speech', your indentured movie reviewing servant, King Hippo, also has a dream...Save the time walking out the front door of your American made house and you’re your lazy, white American Ass in your favorite American made LAZ Boy chair…watching your American made Zenith Black and White 14 Inch TV with Rabbit Ears…and just put in a good old American Made Sony Beta VHS of Planet of The Apes…The Original One..Dipshit!! Okay, Maybe, it's not a dream. Maybe...quite possibly, that's just the peyote talking.


At the very least....I need some Xanax…let’s face it.

One Naybob

King-dom Cum

WIN WIN - Aka...Jeff Spicoli Joins The Wrestling Team

Reciprocity is the key to any successful relationship. Just look at the symbol for Yin Yang. Looks like to me that they are two amoeba fellatiating each other. A Win Win situation.

Such is life.

That is the key message in this, here movie - Win Win.

We’re all looking out for number one, right? The only people that don’t know this are the communists, movie stars and graduate degree elitists. Oh, yeah, and that, there fellow currently occupying the White House and his cronies.

At least that is what they PREACH.

Unless THEY or their Storm Troopers at The Scooter Store WANT SOMETHING.

Like their guaranteed Medicare-approved (e.g. free) devices – “dedicated to helping you regain your mobility”.

What did you say? “NOTHING IS FREE!!”


YOU know it and I know it.

Sure, I want to lay back and get an esophageal member massage from my beckon call girl, but we all know that I don’t have that kind of gash-cash.

And I know my wife IS NOT going to roll over and turn off the porn - eight seconds after my banana juice shoots to the back of her head and my eyes roll to the back of mine without something in return.

Anyway…Paul Giammati is playing the same role he always does. Middle-Aged, white guy, tormented, confused, quirky and funny. Which works better as a wrestling coach than as, say, a noted father of our country.

Excuse me…did you say John Adams rode through the wine country – shitfaced and looking for pussy?.Yeah, I didn’t think so.

But the REAL star borne here - is our teenage angst wrestler, Alex Shaffer, who before acting the wrestler – actually was a state champion wrestler in New Jersey at age 17. Old Dan is thinking this guy could follow in the Spiccoli’s Van-clad footsteps – grow up to be a left-winged nut job and titty fuck Scarlett Johansson before casting his left-winged junk juice on her palatable cleft chin.

But what the hell do I know?

I just am looking for an excuse to work Stephen Hawking into this review and I think Mr. Hawking is just extremely fucking lazy.

I don’t want to get off on a Dennis-Miller-type of rant here, but that fucking “disease” of his - killed the greatest first baseman OF ALL TIME in LESS THAN 2 years, but has done NOTHING MORE to a “theoretical physicist” than put him in a retinal-guided scooter for NIGH-ON 50 YEARS?

ALS my ass!! It’s called LAZY ass, Mr. Hawking!!!

But, again, I digress…In Win Win, Paul Giamatti plays a lawyer/wrestling coach whose life has been torn asunder by the ass whipping that we men call – BEING MARRIED AND HAVING KIDS!! What a fucking surprise!!

He has lost his edge.

He has lost his swagger.

He sees his control over his surroundings slipping. That, of course, leads him to taking some moral shortcuts. He starts talking himself into compromising his integrity by grabbing some easy money, which, as always, seems harmless enough.

Things get complicated when a Jeff Spicoli-type (without the pot) lands on his doorstep.

Turns out the kid brings baggage; he was brung up wrong by his Ma, and he has a hankering for nocturnal nicotine AND wrestling high school talent.

The movie meanders its way through a fish out of water story prior to the unapproved Planned Parenthood method of contraception - (pulling out just before the semi-sappy ending).

Now. Face Down. Ass Up. I will eat the salad. You eat the dog.

Welcome to Recipro City.

Population: 2.

Just like the movie – it’s a Win Win situation. But it’s a little work for both of us.

Except for you Mr. Hawking. Just lay back and let your THIRD WIFE orally expunge your semi-sappy ending while she humps herself to fruition on your Medicare approved scooter with its phallic shaped joy stick. You might just make sure she scrubs down the joy stick with antibacterial wet wipes and Lysol.

I hear there is a new drug resistant strain of gonorrhea making the rounds.

Of course, if ALS didn’t kill your ass – I am damn sure you will live until this NASA-hating United States has kicked this Kenyan can of shit to the curb and is back in space – exploring Mars and conducting a fourth war in the Middle East.

And I am sure that Mr. Hand won’t mind if you retinally order a pizza from the creature comforts of your electronic Lazy Boy and have a little snack during his class. Huhhh…Huhhh!!

And, not that she is in this movie, but when the fuck did Phoebe Cates get so FUCKING FAT?? I am betting THAT is why Judge Reinhold needs his Mexican Viagra these days.

Dan Cedar

World War Z - Aka….Ok, Just So We're Clear... Some United Nations Moron Saves The World? AH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!

Now that I've got THAT out of my system, on to the movie. Spoiler Alert – As is de rigueur, the review of this movie, basically, amounts to any synopsis that you can find on IMDB, with three or four smart-ass comments. This is why I am King Hippo…King of the half-ass reviews.

If you didn't already know, King Hippo has a soft spot for teenage girls, beef jerky, 70's rock, 50's horror comics, and - drum roll please - zombie movies. In short…my lifetime dream is to live Steve Buscemi’s character in Ghost World.

Yes, your humble reviewer was permanently smitten by the zombie bug when forced to watch the original Night of the Living Dead in glorious black and white with a group of older cousins back in the late 60's, ironically enough, in a segregated movie theatre. Segregated, in the fact that it didn't allow haoles like Dan Cedar.

Since then, The King has seen every incarnation of George Romero's original classic, and currently enjoys the genre's comeback with the Walking Dead TV series of recent years. Gladly, within the confines of the Hippo Dungeon, where no man, black or white, is allowed without a search warrant.

I was not hopeful of any redeeming qualities that this movie may have had in store, but was pleasantly surprised. This, despite, uber tool Brad Pitt's appearance as the main character. I was wondering how the writers and director would spin the "zombie" theme without it being another rehash hack job and/or repetitive reinvention of the wheel…like my movie reviews. Between the Romero franchise and the Resident Evil series, and everything in between, we've pretty much depleted every variant of zombie-ISM that could be imagined. But whoa, Nellie, we've got a different twist in this movie.

It’s kind of like King Hippo falling in love with a non-anorexic, pro-abort feminist, that doesn’t WANT to be chained in my dungeon.

So the "catch" is that the typical drunken stupor of your average zombie is just their "dormant" state. Like an Obama voter.

Once they are stimulated by either living human flesh or noise, they spring into their "excitable" state, gaining superhuman speed and strength as they crash the party. Like an Obama voter on the day they expect their welfare check in the mail.

Kind of like a tea-party member, after having been fucked in the ass by the government for forty years of their lives, springing into action, just enough to get humiliated in an election where the only people voting for the president are blacks, wetbacks, pro-abort whores, potheads, and the downtrodden “WAR ON WOMEN” whiners.

Come to think of it, the 1850s weren’t such a bad time after all.

The other "twist" is that the zombies will not attack any human that has a terminal disease, the theory being that the zombies don't want to eat "tainted" meat.

Really? Have you seen a picky zombie lately? That's like John Candy and Bill Clinton walking into a McDonalds and stating that they will not eat their "Big Macs" without Grey Poupon.

Look on the bright side - if these zombies really come into being, Dan Cedar will not have to worry about being attacked, what with his terminal male impotence that he's been living with since birth. And, for the next 1205 days, the Secret Service, is free to stand down, since our half-Kenyan president, will not be threatened by any zombies, with his Downy-laundered shirts continuing to be prepared by the White House staff.

The Review of World War Z – One Naybob

The Movie World War Z – Four Naybobs

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a basement full of King Hippo teenaged groupies to tend to in the basement. And FUCK THE UNITED NATIONS!!

King Zippo

ZERO DARK THIRTY – Aka…Bigelow Busts Inaugural Balls

For those faithful lambs that follow Old Dan Cedar like King Hippo shadows an Ice Cream Truck…slowly and deliberately through the suburban towns of America in a white Pedo van, you are probably already aware that your humble reviewer has previously declared Stevie Spielberg’s Lincoln as the Best Moving Picture of 2012.

Looks like, I’m gonna have to pull Keith Jackson out of retirement and give y’all a big, “Whoa, Nellie!!”

Don’t get me wrong…Stevie and his little homage to the greatest president of all time WILL come away with the golden statuettes in late February, but as Ed Murphy said, “There’s a new sheriff in town”.

It just ain’t Reggie Hammond.

This new Sheriff is one Jessica Chastain. She plays a CIA operative (Maya) that is obsessed with tracking down a 6’4” singular hunk of shit. One Osama Bin Laden. She’s a woman with a badge and she’s every swinging dick’s worst nightmare. As a bonus, she makes Old Dan Cedar’s teeny weanie hard when the wind blows. And I’ve NEVER been to prison.

But I’ve digressed.

Let’s move to the reasons that Zero Dark Thirty WON’T WIN Best Picture.

The Director, Kathryn Bigelow, doesn’t pull the punches where Hollywood expects them to be pulled. Any inference that the George W. Bush endorsed torture led to the capture of UBL is WAY too uncomfortable for the Obama Blowers on the left coast.

Why would Bigelow do this?

She is from San Francisco. There are inferred shots at George W. Bush throughout The Hurt Locker. Her ex-husband is James Cameron (the most narcissistic, tree hugging, Lefty Lucy in the Sky, with his peyote filled delusional Titanic Diamonds).

No right winged indications, right??

Oh, I almost forgot, she’s already got her fucking Best Director Academy Award and she is not prepared to compromise in making the best movie possible.

The Truth???

Did I mention that Bigelow was married to James Cameron????….


The Truth???

Hell, I don’t know how much of Zero Dark Thirty is actually TRUE. NEITHER DO YOU!!

It doesn’t matter. It’s not a fucking documentary.

The inferences are there, though. Obama is a follower, not a leader. He was painfully slow in pulling the trigger (figuratively) on bin Laden.

Best story…Torture helped capture UBL and a lone CIA agent drove the bus to his front door.

Whether, Dan Cedar, John McCain, Dianne Feinstein, or the The Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences likes it or not.

The Truth???

If you want just the facts, listen or read some accounts of Middle East expert Peter Bergen. He wrote a book called Holy War, Inc. and three other books on the War on Terror. To my thinking, he is the most credible journalist on Al Qaeda. Bergen was the guy that Bin Laden told in a 1997 interview that he was declaring a war on America.

Bergen says, “ ‘Maya’ was a man. The torture is overblown and didn’t lead directly to the capture of Bin Laden.”

Dan Cedar’s Truth???

Bigelow knew exactly what she was doing.

She was making the most riveting, best picture of 2012.

We’ll know more in 40 years. By then, Feinstein, McCain, Bergen and Dan Cedar will be full of maggots and pushing up daisies. Chastain will be just about ready to receive her Lifetime Achievement Award from The Academy. Obama’s giant ears will be carved into Mount Rushmore. And Zero Dark Thirty will be recognized for its greatness.

For now: Bigelow, Zero Dark Thirty, Screenwriter Mark Boal and Jessica Chastain get Old Dan Cedar’s vote for the best of 2012.

And that means exactly…JACK SHIT!!

Except to all of my sheep out there.


Old Dan Cedar

Five Naybobs

INCEPTION - Aka...Shutter Island 2

Actually, this movie is much better than Shutter Island but there are a lot of psychological similarities between the main character, Dom Cobb, and Leonardo DiCrapio's character in Shutter Island, Teddy Daniels.

And I already know what you’re saying about me. “King Hippo – if you are such a God fearing, homophobic Republican – then what the hell are you doing having your own personal DiCaprio Film and Fist Festival
under your sheets every night?”

My response to you – is exactly as it would be to a local peace officer peeping through my window. “Until you and your hippie friends that have taken over the city, state and federal governments of this once great nation - finally come to grip with the pain that you have inflicted on my “natural tendencies” - I will ask you to check the box as to my immigration status – note the NRA sticker on my front door, do a background check and summon your Sixth Sense to realize that I may very well be the illegitimate off-spring of Charles Whitman.

As the great Bruce Willis said, "Keep moving Cheese Dick!!"

Anyway, both films have Dicaprio characters in their respective mental states because of a traumatic episode in their real lives which now have them doing the balancing act between reality and fantasy. Much like Dan Cedar's delusions of grandeur when he dons his Hitler mask, Nazi jackboots, leopard print Speedo and leather chaps and parades around his neighborhood screaming "Sieg Heil!" ...Fortunately, the neighbors are used to this autistic behavior already.

Dom Cobb is an "extractor," - able to invade other people's dreams to steal corporate secrets. With the help of his crew and a nifty dream machine, he is able to stealthily get the information desired by contriving an artificial environment in the dream of the mark and manipulating the situation in order to get what his "employer of the moment" needs.

There are some caveats, however. One, the mark has to be hooked up to the machine along with the rest of the crew who are trying to steal his secrets. Two, anyone invading the dream - especially the "architect" of the dream (one of the crew) cannot bring his/her/its own personal experiences into the dreamscape or it will start to fall apart – much like this review. And three, because "extractors" are a known commodity, there are coaches who will help potential marks defend their secrets by training them to mentally put up barriers to possible invaders.

So, to reiterate to Dan Cedar and his ilk - One, hooking up you and that crack ho’ down the street to your 12 year old Sega Dreamcast machine will not enable you to invade her dreams to perform ass-to-mouth on her without paying. Two, it's not enough to rehash the same cheap ass porn movie set for every one of your extraction expeditions "just because" you're the "architect."

Fucking Costanza.

Three, if your crack hos are minimally trained, they won't be defending their glory holes with a simple chastity belt. It will be more like an industrial strength wood chipper.

Have fun pounding THAT.

Oh well, look on the bright side - If you die in the dream - you just wake up...BUT, if you're hurt in the dream, you WILL feel the pain.

Have fun "stumpy."

Actually, the "death" thing is only true with a "normal" first level dream, which thankfully brings us back from my digressions.

Cobb is hired by Saito, a Japanese industrialist to plant an idea into the only son and heir of his chief business rival in order to prevent a monopoly from putting Saito out of business. The only problem is that planting an idea is much harder to do than stealing an idea. This, of course, brings me to the point of why this idea-forsaken website has nothing new to offer which hasn’t been “lifted and shifted” from some other, much more original, internet page.

In order to do this, Cobbs’ crew needs to go down to three dream levels, a dream within a dream within a dream.

This makes things much more complicated and dangerous, as a powerful sedative is needed to reach the multiple dream level state. This, in turn, negates the ability to "awaken in real life after a dream death." Each level entails catching the mark again and hooking the crew up to the dream machine. Also, with each level, time drags on longer. Again, much like this review..

This is all hard enough to execute without Cobb's deceased wife, Mal, appearing in every extraction attempt and putting a monkey wrench in his plans. Cobb and Mal spent years in a shared dream world developing their personal Eden in which to live. Unfortunately, after waking, Mal couldn't discern between reality and their dream world and "proved" to Cobb that they were still in their dream world by jumping out of a 20 story window.

“Oh”, you say, “That’s just a scoche lower than the University of Texas at Austin’s clock tower, Whitman Jr.” And I say, “Move over asshole! I’ve got some overly-ripe melons to cap!!”

And to add insult to injury she left a letter with her lawyer implicating Cobb in her "murder" which forced him to flee America. Of course, the only reason Mal couldn't discern between the dream state and the waking state is that Cobb planted an idea in her mind to see if it could be done.

Thus, the constant guilt. Much like I have after my own Leo the Lion quest in my bedroom.

The carrot Saito is dangling in front of Cobb to pull off the inception is the ability to pull some strings with the US government so that Cobb can be reunited with his children in America without legal proceedings being brought against him.

The last scene leaves the movie goer in limbo as to whether Cobb really made it back to reality or if this is just another dream state.

Kind of like Dan Cedar waking up on the floor of the morgue wondering if he's a homosexual necrophiliac or a bisexual necrophiliac. And kind of like your humble reviewer, King Hippo,wondering if I am really in bed with Leo Dicaprio or in the head of my dearly departed sperm donor and just about to squeeze another round off at some fleeing Austinites.

RESTREPO - Aka...The Hurt Valley

Restrepo is an even-handed documentary that may have you re-evaluating what our government has been doing with your hard earned tax dollars to rid the world of terrorism.

The Rightness. The Wrongness. And since we – the American public - are so disengaged from this war - It is a narrative worth ruminating.

When Old Dan Cedar decided to go to this documentary of an American platoon’s deployment in Afghanistan - it was because I had heard rave reviews- this movie won a big award at Sundance - and because one of the soldiers that was in the film was scheduled to conduct a question and answer session after the screening.

As I am walking into the theatre – I notice an abundance of high and tight buzz cuts amongst the patrons of this heretofore movie art house. Hmmmm….doesn’t look like the typical benefactors.

So, as it turns out,Restrepo is an undersized excuse of an outpost that a 15 man band of an American platoon established in a very dangerous place that I had never heard of called the Korengal Valley. And by “outpost” – I mean a shithole carved into the high ground of this valley where our soldiers literally burn their own feces to make room for more. Restrepo is hailed as their “greatest accomplishment” amongst the Americans that captured it.

I had never heard of this valley or this outpost prior to viewing this movie. This seems odd considering this is supposedly “the most dangerous place in Afghanistan”. And MY country – the greatest military power in the world - has been in this godforsaken dung heap excuse of a country for NINE FUCKING YEARS!!

I Want Some Answers!! And you should too!!

I don’t even want to get into the fact that some of the film quality is better on my wife’s iPhone or the fact that there seems to be an excessive amount of homoerotic behavior among our troops.

Restrepo – the outpost - is named after a medic that dies early in the film. So, as an homage…it was built with reverence and heavy hearts.

Anyway – these guys have virtually NO AIR SUPPORT!!

Meanwhile, we are lobbing mortars at the Taliban like it’s 19 fucking 44!!

I am sure that Colonel Nathan R. Jessup - and other soldiers and politicians – “have neither the time nor the inclination to explain themselves to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that they provide, and then questions the manner in which they provide it! I am sure that they would rather I just said "Thank you," and went on my way. Otherwise, they’d suggest that I pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, they don't give a damn what I think I am entitled to!”

But I still want the truth. Even if they don’t think that I can’t handle it.

I thought we were the greatest military in the history of the world!!

Well, it is either us or the former Soviet Union, right?

Oh, Yeah – Those fuckers ducked tail and ran - while at the same time bankrupting their entire fucking country fighting this ragtag band of desert rats!!

But, I thought that Charlie Wilson won that war!!

Wipe the spooge off your laptop, Asshole!

It’s YOU that can’t handle the truth!

The Charlie Wilson yarn was, largely, a Hollywood creation to make you think that we actually had ANY culpability in overthrowing the communist assholes in Russia.

It’s impossible to criticize the hard-working, brave, devoted soldiers giving their lives and limbs and mental health for a patriotic cause – however misplaced.

Meanwhile, OUR military industrial complex is thriving like never before.

We have been throwing 10 billion dollars a month at these guys since they attacked us with our own commercial airlines – some nine years ago.

Oh, woops! My bad! That wasn’t Afghanistan.
That was Saudi Arabia!!

Remember that long, drawn out, bloody war that we fought with that country?

So, anyway, back to the movie…

Some more of the good guys die. We accidentally kill some innocent civilians. We apologize. We kill a cow because he gets caught in some barbed wire. We make some steaks. We apologize for killing the fucking Afghan cow. And pay back the Afghanis – who, on average, have about three teeth in each of their fucking heads - for having killed said cow – in rice, beans and flour.

Probably easier to chew than the fucking steak, anyway.

After 14 months – our soldiers get to return to the United States. We lost fifty soldiers in this dental forsaken gorge over that time.

Oh yeah, and when the platoon left - we retreated and gave back camp Restrepo – the reverential homage to their friend that died.

So, in the question and answer session somebody asks the soldier if he feels proud with what they accomplished?
He says, “Yes, Sir, I certainly do!!”

What the Fuck?

Proud of getting a hill? Proud of killing some Taliban? Proud that we gave the hill back soon after your platoon left? Proud that we are not giving up after nine years?

Turns out – by raised hand count - most of the crowd is current or ex-soldiers and/or has kids in the war. The crowd files out and almost everyone stops and thanks the soldier for his service – as did I…

But, with reverence and heavy hearts aside...

Isn’t Pride is one of the seven deadly sins?

Get over it!

Remember the lesson that the in-bred, dim-witted Commies finally learned.

Have the sense to know when enough is enough.

Enough Lives.

Enough Money.

Enough Honor, Code and Loyalty!

Enough with the Fucking Pride!!

TOY STORY 3 - Aka...Barbie gives Ken a Woody

Actually, it’s more like Citizen Cedar.

Remember when you were a kid? You just disappeared into that make-believe world of toys and games. Mom and Dad were perfect. It’s all fun and games – then, in the blink of an eye, I go from being “Little Danny” to “Old Dan Cedar”.

First, it’s “Don’t shit in your pants, little Danny!”

Then, it’s “You throw like a girl. Are you a homo, Danny? Get your hands out of your pants and quit playing with your cock!”

But still – there are times that you have fun – sledding down a hill that is out back of your house. That was the best time of my life!

And then, “Why can’t you make good grades like your brother? Are you a little retard, Danny?” Just for that - your parents send you off to live in some boarding school to be raised by a nice-enough man who is, quite possibly, a Jew.

And then a teacher says in 7th grade, “So, you won’t play with the Jewish kids? Are you some kind of Nazi, Dan?”

From then on – it’s like every time you spew out a racial epithet – "You're a Nazi!!”

That’s what this movie is like. In the first two movies we were just having a good ole time without a care in the world. Taking that wooden sled for another ride down the hill.

Fast-forward 15 years to Toy Story 3.

The protective cocoon is gone that existed in the previous movies. Now you actually feel genuine angst and growing pains for the characters in the movie – and YOU realize what ALL adults realize – there is nothing fair, just or guaranteed in the real, grown-up world.

Some of the past toys are gone. There is no more Stinky Pete, Lenny the Binoculars, Bo Peep or Wheezy the Penguin. They’ve been silently led off to the Zyclon B showers.

But our old friends, Woody, Hamm, Buzz , Barbie, Slinky and the wedded Potato Heads help navigate the upheaval of Andy going off to college and the anxiety and danger filled with finding a fun, happy, plaything heaven – where all good toys go – when their owners grow mature!!

And we get to know some new toy friends and foes.

Barbie finally meets her effeminate heterosexual soul mate, Ken.

Is he good, bad or does he go both ways?

I won’t ruin it for you.


Imagine all of our “allied” toys in the 1953 cinematic classic Stalag 17.

They are captured by the “Nazis” – indoctrinated, incarcerated and finally escape from a Daycare prison camp.

Some of the new toys – as my young friends would say, “Are creepy – like you, Old Dan!”

Specifically, Big Baby, a plastic, giant, teetering, lazy-eyed embodiment of goose-stepping Aryan loyalist Sergeant Schulz.

He is paired with Lots-o’-Huggin’ Bear as The Kommandant of the Daycare Prison Camp. Colonel von Scherbach inspired this role.

And there’s a Cymbal Banging Monkey that acts as a Cyber Nazi tower guard – charged with preventing any escapes. Or does he?

Yes, a little more than Creepy!!

Pretty easy to figure out who are the good guys and who are the bad guys …considering the source.

And the movie hits an emotional chord with the separation anxiety from Andy, his toys and his parents.

All things work out in the end. It’s a fucking cartoon for Christ’s sake!!

The only knock that I have on this movie is that it was filmed in a half-ass 3D manner for which there is NO point other than to have the Jews in Hollywood pry another $3 from my wallet which I will never recover!

And the only thing I can spew out before I die – lying prostrate on the bed…“Rosebud!!”

SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD - Aka...The Shittiest Movie of All Time

When this reviewer told King Hippo that Scott Pilgrim vs. The World “was the shittiest movie of all time”- what was his reply?

“What did you expect, Dumbass?”

This – coming from a guy, King Hippo, that describes Birth of a Nation – the 1915 film glorifying the formation and triumph of the Ku Klux Klan as, “the closest thing I have ever had to an orgasm without involving a prostitute”.

Here’s the general premise of Scott Pilgrim. Quirky guy in the upper latitudes of North America finds himself among a bunch of other Quirky folks and everybody learns to accept the differences of those unlike themselves.

Sound familiar?? It may bring to my mind a great television program in that same vein – Northern Exposure.
Not a normal character in the bunch, right?

Northern Exposure
– The Movie??!!!

Wrong – Numbnuts!!


Given that Cera’s geeky, droll, comic turns in Juno, Superbad and Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist were hilarious or, at least, mildly amusing - and it appeared by the previews that Cera was, once again, playing the same, self-effacing geek that he has played in all of his previous movies.

It can’t be that bad!!??

Incorrect Again, DOOKIE BALL!!

The story in a nutshell - Quirky geek (Cera), who is in a band, has to fight off “seven deadly exes” who are ex-lovers of his current “gash-interest”. The fighting is done in the mode of a karate video game that was popular some 15 years ago (when the action is supposed to take place). Money bursts out to the floor when he wins. Blah, blah, blah…

After he wins all of the battles he gets the girl, right?


After all this bullshit - he changes his mind and inexplicably picks another girl.

I didn’t waste much time rehashing the details, considering that the writer of the movie and graphic novel from which it was birthed – didn’t seem to invest a lot of time,
effort or energy – unless you consider the amount of thought that went in to this “Geek Takes on the World”, anti-hero contrivance.

The premise wouldn’t be so bad except there is nary a laugh throughout the movie.

Except among the stoners giggling and talking throughout the movie.

Bogarting Fucks!!


Cera, who is (allegedly) sexually straight, inexplicably rooms – in the same bed – not room – yes, bed - as
a gay male friend.

Another quirk – All of the straight guys are effeminate and focused on getting some hot gash. All of the gay guys are (more) masculine and focused on getting some good wood. Oh, and yeah, they can turn straight guys into dick-loving anal mates with a mere cock (pun intended) of the head.

If Sarah Palin espoused this theory she would be touted by CNN as a closed-minded, bible-toting nutbar!!

And if you like puns – you will get more than a mouthful in this movie.

And it’s not just Cera that is quirky.


Also, everyone has special powers. Not just karate and pseudo-super hero powers.

Power to read minds. Power to rollerblade in the snow. Power garnered from being a Vegan. On and on….


Ok, in a rare show of deference to King Hippo - Birth of a Nation was actually, at least, an interesting movie – however bizarre. But, it was a sincere bizarre. Not just a bizarre machination dreamed up to be cute and daring – in the most insincere, anti-hero movie in the history of 100 years of film making.

A little perspective on this little “indy”, anti-hero film -1) It was produced by Universal Studios (one of the seven biggest film studios in the world). 2) The anti-establishment fucks that made this wankfest had the wherewithal to drop in two real nice Coca-Cola product placements!

All of you dorks of the world unite!!

And drink Coke!!

Real cutting edge stuff!!

Have a Coke – a joint – and a smile.
And – while you’re at it - support the anarchists!!

Thanks for the $10!! You fucking Idiots!

GET HIM TO THE GREEK - Aka...Spinal Tap meets Honeymoon in Vegas

I must admit that I went to this movie daydreaming about my days living the rock n' roll life of excess in the 80's as an unpaid hanger-on. Reality bit me in the ass when the clerk at the box office asked me for $7.50 to see the 11:00 matinee on a Thursday. I said, "Hey dude, it's the first matinee - don't I get the matinee price?" To which he replied, "That is the matinee price, sir."


Out of the right, rear pocket of my - “Made in the USA” Levis - my cheap ass, begrudgingly, pulled a recently purchased leather, chained wallet inscribed with the SS death heads, pried it open with my swastika etched crow bar - that I habitually must use to force open said wallet and posthumously pay retributions to this god-forsaken industry because my semi-Aryan forefathers failed to sufficiently purify the earth – and this industry - during the dozen greatest years of the 20th century.

Coincidentally, these were the years that the great Bing Crosby and Bob Hope put together a string of seven, white-bread Road movies which were being shown in racially segregated theatres across this once great country.

Anyway, Russell Brand reprises his rock god character Aldous Snow from 2008's Forgetting Sarah Marshall, replete with the trappings of narcissism, neuroticism and narcoticism that goes hand in hand with being a has-been rock icon who's career hit the skids after writing and performing his egocentric compact disk masterpiece African Child
- which went on to sell as many copies as Spinal Tap's Smell The Glove...and Dan Cedar's self produced, independently distributed remake of Soft Cell's Tainted Love.

Sometimes, I feel – I’ve got
to – run away….

Sorry, Dan…I don’t pray that way.

Enter Aaron Green (Jonah Hill,) an intern at Pinnacle Records who, during a particularly testy meeting with CEO Sergio Roma (Sean Combs,) suggests that Aldous be brought from England back to the US to perform on the 10th anniversary of a particularly killer concert at the Greek Theater when he was at the peak of his career.
With no other better alternatives to revive records sales, he acquiesces on the condition that Aaron will bring Aldous back to Los Angeles himself.

…and the racially impure bastard of the white-bread road movies is borne.

Aaron spends the trip walking a tightrope of trying to be a good chaperone keeping Aldous on the straight and narrow – while alternately Bogarting every drug that is offered up to his overly-coddled rock star of yesteryear - and not offending Aldous even as he is trying to make the 72 hour deadline on his way to the Greek Theater.

Added to this, Aaron is in the middle of a turf battle with his intern MD girlfriend who told him that they were moving to Seattle for her residency. He utters an all time classic line after the heated discussion about the move - "Are you on your period?" Isn't that always the reason?

A particularly smokin' Rose Byrne plays Aldous' former long time pop diva girlfriend Jackie Q.

What is it about British chicks? They're either a "1" or a "10." There's nothing in between,say, like in the US, where you have the whole spectrum of women. I mean, British chicks either look like Elizabeth Hurley OR Margaret Thatcher - there's NO in-between.

"What's that? Rose Byrne is Australian?"Whatever…

King Hippo is the master of details – in the same way Dan Quayle is the master of spelling.

Rose Byrne in her "African"costume gets five naybobs – even if the movie only gets three.

And Sean Combs? He needs to stick to what his melodically retarded generation refers to as “music”.

Picture a gansta version of lawyer Jackie Chiles of Seinfeld fame. What is it with these hip-hop hacks? Once their two albums of fame are over - they all think that they can act? And our nation of idiots keeps them off the welfare dole. And occasionally out of the penal system.

Back from my digressions...semi-hilarity ensues throughout the movie as Aaron and Aldous make pit stops in New York and Las Vegas before finally getting to the Greek Theater with seconds to spare to a sold out audience.

Hope and Crosby might be rolling over in their graves at what has become of their original franchise. But, here’s to betting that they can’t squeeze six more movies out of this premise.

THE KING'S SPEECH - Aka...The Coronation Of Porky Pig

So, Old Dan Cedar’s prediction for Best Picture and Best Actor is The King’s Speech and Colin Fir…Fir…Firth, but obviously, these are NOT MY choices – just MY guesses. So, I take it as my sworn, solemn duty to tell you why – AS USUAL - Hollywood is WRONG.

What the Academy Awards have lately been reduced to is handing out golden statuettes for actors/films and directors producing movies about half-witted gimps, quirky mass murderers and the occasional glorification of turmoiled, homosexual artists and politicians, book marked by the occasional aged, terminally liver-spotted and infirmed actor that snatches an Oscar just prior to circling the posthumous drain.

Mr. Firth will get the award this year as an attempt to make up for The Academy not hoisting him on their shoulders after his muted portrayal of a closeted homosexual in 2009.

People of my generation tend to like to drift into “Good Old Day” syndrome.

Had Hollywood done the right thing – they would have pre-empted Who Framed Roger Rabbit in 1988 and given the great Mel Blanc the Academy Award that he so desperately merited before his untimely death at age 89.

It used to be that a 2 hour plus movie, with a smattering of the King’s English, was sure to get at least a dozen Oscar nods, but the times have been a changin’ – Mr. Dylan.

Of course, the good old days had their drawbacks.

No, not Jim Crowe laws, Mr. Progressive!!

I am talking about the seriousness with which greats like Mel Blanc and Chuck Jones were treated by the Academy of Arts and Motion Pictures. Although he voiced three different roles in 1958’s Best Animated Short winner Knighty Knight Bugs – Mr. Blanc was given no personal recognition.

What a bunch of maroons!!

My re-imagined treatment would give Mr. Blanc a final chance at the big gold trophy.

This King’s Speech would have King George VI (Porky Pig) being tutored out of Stammerville, UK by speech therapist from central Virginia, Lionel Logue (Foghorn Leghorn) and taunted by the cunning linguist, Sir Winston Churchill (Bugs Bunny).

While watching his father dying – the future king tries to understand why he has been a sickly child, graduated at the bottom of his university class and gets a medal from his mother every time he completes a sentence in under 10 seconds with the contingency that he doesn’t expectorate enough spittle on the floor to send servants scrambling for a squeegee – so as to protect the fancy pants flittering about Windsor Castle.

King George VI (Porky Pig) speaking to his dying daddy king: “T-t-t-tell me – Fa, Fa, Fa..Hmm...Da..Da…Daddy i-i-is there any insanity in our family?”

King Dad (Peter O ‘Toole): “I’m christening a babbling idiot – to be king of the greatest, richest empire the world has ever known - with carte blanche to fornicate with any woman in our land because your effeminate heterosexual brother, Edward, would rather fuck an American divorcee - than get his ass bombed into oblivion by Hitler’s blitzkrieg. Ahhh, true love…I will let you read between the lines – my little Ninny. It probably hasn’t helped - that our royal family has been in-breeding for nearly a millennium. And you, my boy, are our collective gift to the world. I will give you one piece of advice. You might let Churchill do most of the talking. Good Night and Good Luck." (King George V dies).

King George VI (Porky Pig) ignores his father’s words of advice and saunters down to ask for help with his stuttering problem. He lights a cigarette and tells the speech therapist: “M..m…my physicians have told me to smoke because it re..ree- it relaxes the throat.”

Foghorn Leghorn (Speech Therapist Logue): “Any idyut knows that sucking smoke into ur lungs will Kill Ya. And you can take that from a Virginian.”

King George VI (Porky Pig): “Y-y-you can't fool me. I have a high I.Q.”

Foghorn Leghorn (Speech Therapist Logue): “Explain yoself! Yer tongue's aflappin' but no noise is comin' outa yer big mouth!”

King George VI (Porky Pig): ”H-h-h-help! I-i-i-i-i-indians are coming! I-i-i-i-indians! B-b-b-bows and arrows! T-t-t-tomah-h-hatchets! T-t-t-tee-puh, puh, puh! Wigwams! All kinds of - all kinds of stuff like that there!”

Foghorn Leghorn (Speech Therapist Logue): "Slow down Paul Revere - You're doing a lot of choppin', but no chips are flyin'. It’s the damn Natzi’s – That’s who’s a comin’. You’re about as timid as a cat at a canary show."

Bugs (Wearing a top hat): Chewing on a carrot (looks at the camera) “Ain't this monotonous?”

King George VI (Porky Pig): Walks out on the balcony and looks out on the hushed crowd. And says “I h-hate HITL…HITL…-Shicklegruber and TOJ…TOJ...”

King George VI (Porky Pig) runs away from the balcony and walks up to Winston Churchill (Bugs Bunny) and says: “Ca..Ca..Can you me out here Winnie?

Winston Churchill (Bugs Bunny) says:“Eh, ok doc, l'll do it, but I'll probably hate myself in the morning!”

Winston Churchill (Bugs Bunny) solemnly steps out on the balcony and up to the microphone. The crowd becomes hushed. Churchill speaks: “Bric-a-bracka, Firecracker! Sis, boom, bah! Winnie Churchill! Winnie Churchill! Rah! Rah! Rah!”

The English crowds go crazy.

Cut to an isolated Adolf Hitler in a bunker listening to the speech over his radio. Pulls out a gun and kills himself!!

Cut back to crowds of English countrymen carrying Bugs on their shoulders and yelling: “The Pig King is Dead! Long live King Bugs!!”

Bugs looks at the camera from the hoisted masses: “Gee! Ain’t I a stinker!!”

As for Mel Blanc, Jack Benny once said, “There were only five real people in Hollywood. The rest are Mel Blanc.”

And he doesn’t even have one Oscar. But don’t say I didn’t give it a half-ass try!!

KNIGHT AND DAY - Aka…Mission Impossible meets and SCORES!!!!

That oldie but goodie song, Breakin’Up is Hard to Do, had it all wrong. Breaking up is easy.

Now, finding “Someone To Love”, as Queen pleaded, is much harder. In fact, it’s practically impossible.

Oh sure, people marry their soul mates all the time. Or should I say, “soul suckers”? My parents are the epitome of two people who decided to tie the knot over 50 years ago and have happily sucked the life out of each other every single day since. Yours truly found not one, but TWO “soul suckers” to love, honor, cherish and divorce. So suffice it to say that – with a 30ml vial of ipecac in tow - I was prepared to forcibly vomit the entire time whilst watching Knight and Day a romantic/action romp starring Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz.

Going into this, I had no issue with Cameron. Who does? She is gorgeous, funny, and lights up the screen in every role. Tom, however, is a freak! Watching the talented actor from Risky Business and A Few Good Men turn into a “scientific” religious fanatic, divorce Nicole, and then jump on Oprah’s couch to proclaim his love for Katie was most depressing. I couldn’t HANDLE the truth! But then he did that cameo in Tropic Thunder and his weirdo barometer slightly wiggled to Less Idiotic Then Previously Believed. At least - that is - in his professional life.

Knight and Day opens with the back of Tom’s head and it just gets better and better from every angle. From the minute Roy (Cruise) bumps into June (Diaz) in an airport, the movie spins a yarn that includes murder and espionage; awkward social situations; and polite dialogues between Roy and June - all in the midst of gunfire and explosions!

It’s like watching James Bond meeting The 40 Year Old Virgin while practicing Pride and Prejudice. As the French would say, “Ménage à trois”!


Maybe I am remembering some Latvian – from my 3 years of dipping my toes in the Greek Orthodox pool. Anyway – In any language - This is NOT your average romantic/action romp, people.

This is the Tom of Risky Business, donning dorky Ray Bans from the 80’s and flashing his famous blindingly white smile and piercing dark puppy eyes. Oh, and he has a rocking hot body, too, that we get to see TWICE! And for the guys, Cameron wakes up from a drug induced coma in a tiny red bikini – no need to tell you readers that, she too, has a smokin’ bod.


But getting past all that eye candy, there is a script resplendent with wit and humor that is plain fucking funny.

Does this make me a fool to rave about a movie with Tom Cruise in it? Maybe…

I’ve been called much worse.




Crack Whore.

Bitch Crack Whore.

Cunty, Bitch Crack Whore.

But ALL of the guys on that basketball team were a bunch of cheating son of a bitch two-timers. And don’t EVEN get me started on their posse of baby mamas! Talk about some “love suck-ahs”!

But you have to call it like you see it, and I see a movie that caters to both sexes in a tale as old as time. Two people are thrown together by fate (or let’s suppose, cold blooded calculation?) and then happenstance (or possibly, a tenacious assassin that is covering his ass and tying up loose ends) continues to bring them together, forcing them to trust each other (through comas, imprisonment and near-death-do-they-part car chases) and eventually fall in love (but only after a kidnapping with another drug induced coma!)

But still! It is LOVE, baby!

So yes, my Mission Impossible is to find that perfect match and score. This movie delivers in all three areas and makes finding a soul mate believable in spite of the odds that support a more “soul sucking” outlook towards love.

Maybe I should start on-line dating? Maybe I could Facebook the entire basketball team and re-connect with old friends? Better odds would be to go the airport and bump into every guy wearing 80’s ray-bans.

BLACK SWAN - Aka...Dream Fuck - Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis

I must say that every brown-shirted neo-Nazi that I have run into in the greater Chicago metro - over the last month was fired-up to see to so-called “steaming lesbian scene” with the hottest Jews in Hollywood – Natalie Portman vs. Mila Kunis. Aaaaooowww!!

Hot Jews Gone Wild!

Not so fast – Colonel Klink. It’s about as exciting as watching a couple of scantily-clad hens dry-hump down at Heinrich Himmler’s chicken ranch. And no, not the one in Nevada. And go ahead and unpop your monocle – It ain’t The Auschwitz Ballet either, you sadistic, babbling idiot.

The story – Good Jewish Ballerina (Portman) is trying to get in touch with her “naughty” side while tossing salads with the Bad Jewish Ballerina (Kunis). The ballet they are performing is, of course, Swan Lake.

How about this for a Spoiler alert – THERE IS NO NUDITY!!


Portman brings to the movie - her anorexically doe-eyed jizz palette, nicely contrasted with the heterochromeatic spunk craving - cleft-chinned Kunis - to the screen - directed by Darren Aronofsky, the Jewish fella that also made The Wrestler.

…and NO!! They don’t control the media, Klink!!

Normally, one would think that given this make-up – and the Oscar buzz - a hearty Jew Stew would be had by one and all. Alas, this is a rubber biscuit of a movie. And as all of true Blues Brothers fans know – that means – You Go Hungry!! Bow Bow Bow….

Back to the story - The Good White Jew Swan is trying to prove to her Swan Lake director that she can let go and be the Bad Black Jew Swan. She has a lot of “issues” that closely resemble many of the same issues of my highly unstable ex-wife. She has a stage mother that she resents. She cuts herself. Has some sort of eczema and is apparently out of cortisone cream - and to top it off she’s the most frigid Jew on this side of the Gaza Strip.

From there on it gets weirder and weirder. In the penultimate moment of the film, Portman begins pulling black feathers out of her back - just before aligning completely with the play, Swan Lake, and kills herself on stage.

Get it?

It’s supposed to be poetic. You know. The only way she can achieve becoming the black swan is by killing the white swan.

Which, I guess, makes all of you skinheads happy since there is one less Jew in the world?

If that was only the case…

It’s just a shitty movie, you neo-Nazi Bastards!!

And you can’t kill every Jew that ever made a bad movie – otherwise you’d have to re-open at least three of those old concentration camps and crank up the ovens!!

Like you weren’t planning that already….

Illinois Nazis….I hate Illinois Nazis!!

2 Naybobs

Old Dan Cedar


King Hippo's Best Movies of 2010

1.True Grit - It was hard for me to look at this film from an objective perspective as it's so close to the original which I loved. The superlative acting is what did it for me. And that sadistic rapist look when Josh Brolin first lays eyes on Hailee Steinfeld at the river - reminds me of the look Dan Cedar gives to every passing flock of sheep during a road trip.

2.Inception - As complex and detailed a movie that this was, it was still easy to follow as long as you paid attention. The editing and special effects were unbelievable. This blows away Christopher Nolan's previous Dark Knight.

3.The Fighter - Surrealistically realistic. I guess that goes along with "based on a true story." Generic story but great acting and pacing. Christian Bale's best acting job yet. King Hippo’s man crush continues…

4.Stone - This kind of flick is the only thing that gets my ass into a movie theater nowadays. Original story, awesome acting (even by Milla Jovovich - gasp!), and the psychological tension brewing behind the scenes. Edward Norton's best performance since American History X. This would have been a perfect Coen Brothers production. Or as Dan Cedar calls it…No Country For Movies With Endings.

5.Get Low - Ahh, the dying art of the Black Comedy. Unfortunately, I think Robert Duval is starting to be typecast as the surly curmudgeon. Geez, I wonder why I liked it…Bill Murray continues to surprise with each new role.


King Hippo’s Worst Movies of 2010

1.Skyline - This is the steaming pile of baboon excrement you get when you combine a shitty story, shitty acting, shitty screenplay, shitty directing and shitty production. BABOON SHIT! Or, as Dan Cedar says when he's at the primate cage at the zoo, "what's that smelly brown semi-solid stuff they keep throwing at me through the bars?"

2.The Expendables - Really? ANOTHER ensemble cast of fat, balding, and/or anabolic steroid taking, no acting, LOSERS? Hey jackasses! Wait a couple of more months and Ahnold will be able to get back in the saddle with you! The Losers and The A Team could have also substituted in this spot.

3.Tron: Legacy - OK, the original was a total snoozer. What makes anyone think that the sequel ALSO won't be a total snoozer?!?!? What's that? The original movie has a "cult" following? A cult of what? Paramecium?

4.Jonah Hex - WHY would anyone want to fuck up a Western? WHY? Not only that, but also a totally believable comic book character unlike the myriad of spandex wearing, crotch bulging homoerotic male "superheroes"with their effeminate boy sidekicks that have defaced the silver screen since the first Superman movie. As soon as I asked that rhetorical question, I see that Daniel Craig is starring in Cowboys and Aliens. *SIGH*

5.Black Swan - Wow, waste all that good acting on a "high class" remake of Showgirls. Brilliant idea! My mouth was agape - yawning through this snooze fest longer than the gaping moneyshots on Dan Cedar's homemade compilation of his favorite porn starlets' facials. Of course, they're all POV shots as Dan likes to imagine himself doing the dirty deed after a night of Old Crow, crystal meth and Mexican Viagra.

SHUTTER ISLAND - Aka…Shitter Island

First off, let me just say that I like Martin Scorsese's pseudo film-noir style of cinematography, which include classics such as Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Goodfellas. He evens directs a mean documentary, No Direction Home and Shine a Light. And to be honest, he's really never had a full fledged turd in his arsenal of movies. Unlike this website’s reviews.

Shutter Island falls in line with his other middle of the road movies and it's NOT a full fledged turd...but as Peter Griffin puts it, "it's starting to crown." The visuals are great, the characters are well developed, the story has an interesting premise, but MY GOD, the pacing/editing is horrendous!

Scorcese has six more movies in production and I truly believe his is trying to finish them all before he sucks his last gasp. He was born after Pearl Harbor, but when I see him or hear him speak, I would swear that he was in Woodrow Wilson’s cabinet. Or, J. Edgar Hoover's closet.

I think the Shitter’s previews were misleading as well. I was expecting a few more shocks and thrills, but what I got was a bunch of yawns and an uncontrollable eye tic. Of course, that could be inexorably ascribed to my mom’s daily 60 Lucky Strike routine while I was in utero.

Fellow Dago and extremely effeminate, alleged heterosexual Leonardo DiCrapio plays Teddy Daniels, a 1954 era US Marshall on the way to Ashcliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It's located on an ominous island off the coast of Massachusetts which was once a fort. And no, this wasn’t the place that the Kennedy Clan dumped political antagonists for lo, those many years.

Daniels has a new partner,Chuck, ably played by Mark Ruffalo, who we later find out, isn't who he says he is (early visual hints in the movie should tip off those of you who are minimally observant)...which leaves the viewer twisting in the wind.) Let me know if you want some “personal” contact with this reviewer via email and I will guide you along.

Daniels is there to investigate how a missing patient, Rachel Solando, who disappeared one night from her locked room. His partner, Chuck, wonders why a pair of US Marshalls has been sent to investigate. It seems below their pay grade.

Let’s remember that there are verified Commies in the federal government at this time, Jesus Christ!!

Daniels replies with a convenient explanation that this is the next step for a promotion within the department. I call this a bullshit excuse to forgive gaping holes in the narrative.

The snail race begins with Daniels' interactions with the medical and guard staff, as well as the inmates themselves. It seems that every question and search leads to a dead end. Much like my unanswered requests from governor Schwarzenegger to expunge my 1978 conviction for exposing my nether regions to Roman Polanski’s “girlfriend”. She fucking begged me…Or like my repeated requests for Barack Obama's alleged "long form" US birth certificate...but I digress.

Ok, here's my next nomination for best supporting actor (luckily, word is there will be 20 nominees for, said category, in 2011) - Max von Sydow as Dr. Naehring. He's high on Daniels' "questionable’s" list and Daniels' suspects Dr. Naehring as being one of the Nazi doctors who fled Germany to continue their nefarious and illegal experiments on institutionalized patients. No, not Nazis who were cool and helped us build NASA and beat the Reds to the moon.

Ah, von Sydow did such a marvelous job, I found myself daydreaming of being a Nazi MD and performing a transrectal prostatectomy on Dan Cedar with a dull switchblade and an egg beater only to find out that Dan Cedar is really a hermaphrodite. Oops, sorry to let the cat out of the bag, Dan.
Maybe you’d also like to see my nether regions, hmmm?

As Daniels gets on the slow train to No-Wheresville, his flashbacks start to clue the viewer into his mindset. But for every question it answers – a new question occurs. That is – unless you are a member of the banal pabulum that this film was marketed to. You wouldn’t know a dangling preposition if it was Dan Cedar's shrunken teabag dangling on your tongue. Which means that you may be enticed by some wine and Quaaludes. See, King Hippo, can read your mind and I know you want me!

The twist ending is amply explained through a series of flashbacks, which in my opinion, treats the viewer like a Dan Cedar...oh, sorry - a moron.

Despite the extended explanation, Daniels' final act is a lucid one, however subtle it may be. Much like this review.

Email The King if you’re interested. Must be between 5'0" and 6'2", no more than 120 pounds, and last name "Kunis."

King Hippo

STONE - Aka...OMG Milla Jovovich's Nipples

Sure. You can come in to King Hippo’s humble abode. Not that I am guilty of anything. I’m just going to need to see your search warrant first. And would mind asking the SWAT team to stand-down?

Why is it that good movies like Stone are relegated to "art houses" or "limited engagements" or "at select theaters?" And certified dog shit like The Expendables is crammed down the public's collective
throats on blue ray one week after it opens in theaters?

Why do I even have to ask this question? The answer is: clueless tools like Dan Cedar and Lady Spamalot sit like inbred Golden Retrievers with their paws in the air, tails wagging and spittle dripping off their distended tongues entranced with movies such as Knight and Day and Iron Man 2 AND give these strangulated hemorrhoids great reviews.

Good grief!

So, before I go any further, and am carted off for my arraignment - my FOURTH pick for best supporting actor of 2010 goes to Edward Norton for his sublime portrayal of Creeson
Stone, an incarcerated white trash hick who allowed his cousin to set fire to his grandparents’ house...with the grandparents still in it.

Enter De Niro's character, Jack Mabry, a career prison parole officer who, long ago became jaded with the inmates, his job, his wife, and his life. It seems the only joy he gets now is golf. Sounds like he could be related to the aforementioned “clueless tools” that drown their broken hearts into – bad movies and the reviews that fawn over them - for this website.

And as the story unravels, Jack takes a cue from Tiger Woods. Unable to tolerate prison life any longer, Creeson tries to convince Jack to grant him parole during their regular meetings...and uses his wife, Lucetta to influence Jack's decision on the outside world.

Two words: Milla Jovovich. Mmmmm, tasty.

OK – Old Dan – I know that’s four words – you over editing “Mathematician”.

If there's a hotter, ginchier eastern European import to ever grace the American silver screen, then Dan Cedar ISN'T the flamiest, most flamboyant, limp wristedest butt monkey to ever skip across the face of mother earth.

It seems that Lucetta is the only character in the movie that doesn't go through a life changing transformation. And that's where this movie works best - psychologically. Themes of good and evil and right and wrong are weaved throughout the story which makes the viewer wonder if life is just various shades of grey.

I kind of like to think that about the rotting female corpses buried in my grandmother's back yard - it wasn't really "wrong," maybe it was just "their time." See, even King Hippo can see shades of grey when he wants to.

Maybe I should remove that combination lock from my refrigerator and let my old friends “air out”. See, even King Hippo can transform.

By the end of the movie, you wonder which characters are really imprisoned and who is really free.

Now, if I can just get the local District Attorney to buy into that theory.

Five naybobs for Milla Jovovich's nipples, four naybobs for the movie.

King Hippo


Old Dan Cedar’s Best Movies of 2010

  1. The Kids Are All Right
  1. Let Me In
  1. Toy Story 3
  1. The King’s Speech
  1. The Town
  1. Kick Ass

Old Dan Cedar’s Worst Movies of 2010

  1. Scott Pilgrim vs The World
  1. Black Swan
  1. Ghost Writer
  1. Cyrus
  1. Inception

HEREAFTER - Aka…Sixth Sense Kid Finally Gets Laid*

*When writing this review
– Old Dan Cedar was apparently under the mis-assumption that Clint Eastwood’s new movie, Hereafter, was The Sixth Sense II. For full disclosure – this website has decided to publish Mr. Cedar’s review – however misguided and deluded.

When this reviewer, Old Dan Cedar, sat down for a re-visit with one of my favorite characters – the kid from The Sixth Sense - all grow’d up – some twenty years after he helped Bruce Willis remember he was dead. I was hoping that the kid might do the same for the anointed director of this paltry sequel. Yes, one Clint Eastwood.

It’s been a long while since his self-directed turn as gunslinger William Munny in the great movie – Unforgiven. And by the way, Mr. Eastwood, I put your stats in Seems that you’re about six years past your expiration date.

The Hereafter plot in a nutshell – The Kid from the First Sixth Sense is 20 years older, but doesn’t want to HELP dead people anymore. He just wants to IGNORE them and get laid. Did puberty REALLY change THIS kid THAT much? He seemed so committed to helping…

Oh, and by the way Mr. Eastwood, if you had bothered to go back and watch the first movie - you would have realized that the kid DIDN’T HAVE an older brother. But now, all of a sudden – Jay Mohr – appears out of fucking thin air to be his “successful” older brother. How many films has Jay Mohr been in with the great Bruce Willis? Take a look at the scoreboard Josey Wales!!

A SEQUEL?? What the fuck are you thinking?? Maybe, you should shoot for Citizen Kane II…and get that guy from all the Kung Fu shit to star! NUTJOB!!

And that gentleman that you refer to as “a third world director”, M. Night Shyamalan, showed you and the rest of your right-winged, tea-partying asses why America is losing ALL of its jobs to India. Not that your film, Hereafter, doesn’t have some GOOD parts, but there is way too damn much that is both BAD and UGLY.

First of all, your casting of Matt Damon. While blonde – He looks nothing like the pre-pubescent, do-gooder for the dead, from the first film. I think Haley Joel Osment could,quite frankly, use an acting job. Considering that he got robbed for the Best Actor award and I don’t see a sequel to Second Hand Lions in the making.

YOU could have been…like this generation’s American Graffiti director – whose name I don’t recall at the moment – that took Opie Taylor from diapers to, flat-out, movie star.

And the inconsistencies between movies. For God’s sake…In the original – the kid saw dead people everywhere – even when he was just trying to take a piss in the dark.

In your “re-imagined” sequel– ba da bing - Sixth Sense Man has to actually touch people’s hands to get a convo going with the recently departed. It’s like you didn’t even SEE the first movie. Or are you THAT senile and just sitting in your corner chair playing with your Dirty Harry.

Is anybody listening to me????

It’s like I’m TALKING English and everybody else in the world is HEARING Spanish.

Listen up boy! Y Tu Mama Tambien soy mucho sexy ménage movie.

And what the hell is the deal with the Tsunami at the beginning of the movie?

It was a great scene, but just becausethe Fucking Mayans predicted something was going to happen back when you were a kid, doesn’t mean that you have to incorporate it into your racist movies.

Racist, you ask?

Yes, it seem like you and your racial epithet spewing octogenarian buddy, Mel Gibson got together and cock-blocked the bruthas trying to make it into your final version of Hereafter. Newsflash to Mr. Eastwood; It’s not 1914 anymore and it may be time to put your Gran Torino Dragon Dunce Cap in the closet.

You are out of touch old man!! We have a black president for God’s Sake. But in your movie there are exactly ZERO proud brown or black men to add some dignity to your movie.

Nope, there’s not a seat, even in the back of the extra’s bus. THE MAN won’t allow all good people to ride together in peaceful harmony. Like at the end of one of those old David Naughton’s Dr. Pepper commercials from the ‘70s where we all get to dance peacefully and in harmony. Or maybe that was a Coke commercial. But, anyway, you get my point.

Did you ever see Spike Lee’s classic Get On The Bus, Mr. Eastwood? Didn’t think so!!

I knew Rosa Parks. I worked with Rosa Parks painting signs in Selma that said, Give Me My Seat Back – You Damned Cracker.

Mr. Eastwood – You’re no Rosa Parks!!

Tear down that wall of Racism, Mr. Eastwood!!

I won’t say that this movie totally sucks. The French chick that Matt Damon finally fucks at the end of the movie is HOT!! But no pit hair and wears underwear?? Hello, McFly…She’s FUCKING FRENCH!!

Not very realistic. Unlike the original Sixth Sense.

I’ve got a little speech memorized in case I meet up with you Mr. Eastwood.

Old Dan Cedar: “It’s a hell of a thing, killing a man. Take away all he’s got an all he’s ever gonna have.”

Clint Eastwood: “Yea, well, I guess THEY had it coming.”

Old Dan Cedar: “We ALL got it coming, gramps.”

Later Days and Lays, Mr. Eastwood.

Here is hoping that you don’t have many of either left!!

INSIDE JOB – Aka…Roger & Me and Baby Makes Three

Inside Job purports to be a documentary that was written, directed and produced by Charles Ferguson about the ins and outs of how the economy went into the shitter over the past 30 years - which began with the election of Ronald Reagan.

Hmmmm, seems an odd place to start since the economy was SO bad, and interest rates were SO high under James Earl Carter after the devil went down to Plains, GA.

….Ok, I get it, they didn’t ask my opinion. Just seems a little weird. Duly Noted?

It seems that – according to Inside Job - our bad economy was birthed by de-regulation and greed.

I feel like Andy Rooney, but did you ever notice that Republicans always want small government except when it comes to backing the blue or the military. And the Democrats always want to fiddle with lots of government regulation except when it comes to making laws against “personal” freedoms. Is it hypocrisy or just inconsistent ideology?

Don’t Answer, ASSHOLE! It’s Rhetorical!!

In 1989 Michael Moore crafted an aggressive type of neo-documentary film - Roger & Me, where the director put himself and his ideology in front of the camera - mocking his adversaries. No longer was the story teller in the background, relating real-life events – brought to the forefront by unheard questions – ala Ken Burns.

The hysterical off-spring of Roger & Me is Charles Ferguson’s Inside Job. In place of deriding the greedy business decisions of GM executives – Ferguson ridicules the greedy, speculative Wall Street financial executives who seem, invariably, tied to the executive branch of our government. Thus, the problem - The White House is guarding The Hen House.

Voiced by Matt Damon and splattered with literally dozens of bar graphs, Inside Job walks us through the financial regulations or lack thereof - and how those led to the housing bubble – the burst – and the ensuing ripple effects throughout the world.

The salient points are not to be lightly dismissed, but there are some problems with the narrative.

First and foremost – who is doing the talking?

The bad guys – anyone stupid enough to have agreed to an interview with this director that has ever worked in the financial services field. Sure, these guys would have never sat down with Michael Moore because they already know his political agenda. But, they are so rich and arrogant that they have no qualms about proving to the rest of mankind what most of us already knew; you don’t have to be smart to get rich. And it takes somebody quite articulate and calm – to NOT make himself look like a greedy asshole when, in fact, he IS a greedy asshole!!.

The good guys? They consist of a motley crew that could only have been assembled on a gold-plated violin bet over a Billy Beer down in Plains.

Charles Ferguson: “I will bet you that I can make a whole movie that tears down the lack of moral fiber in our government with ANY three stooges you can pick out in the world as my ‘experts’. And critics will still love it.”

Bartender: “OK, how about George Soros, Barney Frank and – let’s throw in Eliot Spitzer there, for a few good laughs.”

Ferguson: “I’ll take that bet and you’re gonna regret – ‘cause I’m the best that’s ever been!”

And - sure as shit – that is what Ferguson does. Never once does he interrupt or verbally indict Larry, Moe or Curly. But, in fact, Ferguson gives credence to their every word - without a challenge. On the other hand, he deals it hard with the greedy capitalist pigs without a stitch of moral fiber.

What’s that, you say?

These Three Stooges live in glass houses and shouldn’t be throwing stones!

Forget the other two. Accept that they are Saint Peter and Jesus Christ. George Fucking Soros was convicted of insider trading (A Felony) in France. He also made more than $1 Billion betting against the devaluation of the British Pound. His net worth is approximately $14.2 Billion.

These are the kind of facts held against EVERY greedy Wall Street broker in this film. How does the film view Georgie Boy? He is simply listed as "Philanthropist" as opposed to "One of the greediest fucking fucks on planet earth"!

Here is the other thing–we are given a great deal of detail about how bad the past 20 years of Republican Administrations have been – the 10 years of Democratic Presidents get some specifics, though short shrift is given. And let’s not forget that the Executive Branch is only one of three.

The other “good guys” are the congressmen that have spent a lot of time publicly vilifying and trying to disgrace the greedy financial fucks, but have done little to enact legislation that does ANY, you know, LEGISLATING!!

Inside Job was distributed by Sony Pictures. Just for grins - I did a little internet research on how much the president of Sony Pictures made last year. Does 9.8 million dollars sound greedy to you? Maybe a bar graph would help.

Now, you play pretty good fiddle boy, but gives the devil his due. I’ll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul – ‘cause I think I’m better than you.

Unless there is a regulation against a little greed… I've done told you once - you hypocritical fiddling fucks - I'm the best that's ever been!!

THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT - Aka...Hot Lesbian Sex!!

Sometimes, in my hemp-hazed day dreams – this humble movie reviewer wonders if I have any ill-conceived off-spring played forth by my pre-cum - prior to ejaculating on your heart-shaped ass.

So, this movie imagines that you’re a teenager that has two moms and that you were conceived by a neo-hippie spunk donor because your mommies hate cock – yet they wanted the pain and aggravation that come with being married and raising a family.

There’s your movie premise.

Doesn’t sound like an Academy Award winner, huh?

It’s NOT the pitch – It’s the execution. Bitch!!

Do you know how much time, effort and masturbating energy that this reviewer, Dan Cedar, has invested in lesbian sex? Jenna Jameson, Ginger Lynn, Racquel Darrian.

Ooohhh!! Ooohhh!! Yes, Ma’am. You are welcome!!

Alas, The Kids Are All Right women are not those from my youthful misspent, porn-fueled, thong sporting, rug-munching imagery. These here are the forty-something Annette Bening and Julianne Moore. As Christopher Cross might say, “Somewhere between the moon and New York City”.

Imagery aside - this movie embodies what every great movie has at its core. A unique, unpredictable narrative that is relatable to variety of audiences - regardless of whether you are proponents or opponents of Proposition 8.


Well apparently the fairer homo sex occasionally likes to watch gay, boy porn!



Old Dan Cedar isn’t jacking off in a cup, so that you can confirm what you’ve suspected for lo’
these many years. That isn’t my kid, regardless of the fact that your daughter has my dimples and is stunningly beautiful.

OK, Maybe it wasn’t YOUR heart-shaped ass. Could have been the coupling of Miss Darrian and Miss Jameson.

Oh, yeah and The Kids Are All Right is the best motion picture of 2010.

5 Naybobs

Old Dan Cedar

TRUE GRIT - Aka...Same Grit - Different Day

This movie was quite an enigma for me, both in a historical and current sense. In the current sense - because it was directed by the Coen brothers and yet it is played VERY close to the original classic. You won’t hear that from the mainstream movie reviewers.

Because the industry that supports the Coen siblings operates under the Hollywood Law of Perpetual Motion which defined says, “When a person or entity generate more than 3 better than half-ass movies over the course of twenty years – they are eternally capable of only producing true works of genius and will henceforth be nominated for any conceivable year end made for TV award show – until their lifetime achievement statuette is posthumously presented to their grieving widow(s).”

But this Grit doesn’t fall too from John Wayne’s legendary giant wood from 1969. Why is that perplexing you ask? Because a Coen brothers movie usually ranges from the quirky (Fargo) to the downright bizarre (The Big Lebowski) and everything in between, but NEVER straight. So, all I can surmise from this is that True Grit is an homage to the original, which as I'm sure to any inbred Duke fan, would be blasphemy if treated in any other way.

As a child I saw the original True Grit, and other than thinking, "boy, that Glen Campbell can sing AND act and why didn’t he sing ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’??!!” - I thought that the character Mattie Ross sure was a firecracker. Ok, with age and wisdom, my thoughts are more along the lines of, "since WHEN in the 1800's could some punk ass bitch basically cajole, blackmail, and berate an entire western town of hardened assholes into doing what SHE wants them to do?"

And then it struck me - this was the beginning of the Women's Lib movement! And it's been downhill for men ever since. Now, you don't have to take my word on this. Just ask Dan Cedar, he of the perpetual marriage-go-round. Every time I see this guy, he's got whip marks on his back and a chain around his nuts.

But I digress. Apart from the cloned story, the acting is superb. I would give newcomer Hailee Steinfeld the best supporting actress nod. I just wonder who hit her with the ugly stick. I felt obligated and shamed into shaving my pedo moustache upon arriving back home in my mom’s basement. Jeff Bridges, as usual, puts in a seemingly effortless

Oscar worthy performance as US Marshall Rooster Cogburn. Matt Damon seemed to have some problems with the stilted dialogue of that era. Can you imagine a society that

actually enunciates in the King's English? Alternately, Dan Cedar thought Damon should have won the Best Supporting Actor of 2010. I am sure it has nothing to do with the shirtless “Bourne Identity” poster Dan has taped to the ceiling above his bed. His current consort hasn’t yet spotted it yet, since she is forever on top.

But - no matter - ANY good western nowadays is a breath of fresh air in the contrived Hollywood shitscape of rehashed garbage and liberal propaganda. So, to the Coen brothers - I salute you for updating a piece of timeless Americana for the clueless masses we call the United States.

And, to Dan Cedar - I salute you for your persevering spirit in your quest to find your "soul mate" and for having the nuts to expose your "feminine" side for all to see.

After your untimely, yet inevitable heart attack – I am sure that your faux grieving widow will enthusiastically accept your posthumous strap-on shaped statuette for “Shittiest Movie Reviewer of All Time.”

Of course, I will accompany her to the after-party. One drink and a roofie later – my meticulously planned sexual rendezvous in my mom’s basement will come to fruition. Bibs will finally be able to forever discard her kneepads that your sexual ‘missionary woman’ oppression had kept her in for lo’ those many years.

After I stealthily lug Bib’s down to my private cellar - John Wayne will be back in the saddle again while she screams for a heaping helping of King Hippo’s massive one-eyed Rooster Cogburn.

Oh, and just for you, Bibs, I have already thumb tacked, over my bed, a circa 1982 poster of Rick Springfield – so you don’t have to keep your eyes closed after the Rohipnol wears off.

THE EXPENDABLES - Aka...Middle Aged Flaccid Penises Unite!

My name is Madame Ovary and I have been asked to give some insight into The Expendables, because as it so happens - I wasn’t offered my first, second or third choices.

That’s ok. I am sure that the 401k retirement plan with will be worth a sufficient amount that I can soon quit my night job at The Bunny Ranch.

Think of me as the Mae West of movie reviewers.

It seems that I am on a roll. The day prior to viewing The Expendables - my stem cell transplant for my ALS was postponed in lieu of a more famous patient - one Michael J. Fox. When life gives you Lou Gehrig’s disease – make lemonade.

Random thought - Can you get an erection if you have Parkinson’s?

I bawl every time that I hear Billy Vera sing “At this Moment.”

Courtney Cox – what a bitch.

I can’t seem to focus on finishing this review. Someone told me that I had better check my IQ after seeing this movie, and that I might suffer some loss of brain function. This phenomenon is allegedly known as “The Stallone Effect.”

However, I disagree. This movie was pretty awesome… as long as you know what to expect.

It pretty much starts off with a bang. Well, a gang of bangs, and keeps on banging for 103 minutes.

I loved that Rambo (cleverly disguised with another name in this movie) was the smart one of the bunch and that he explained to the other guys “what was really going on with the C.I.A. and stuff”. I appreciated that wrap-up. Why waste time making me, the audience member, try to figure it out? Just go ahead and tell us in a short little scene.

Not only do we get Stallone in this movie. We get every has-been or never-was actor from the 1980s – save Ron Jeremy. And from the looks of these AARP spokesmen posing as actors – there needs to be some Viagra sprinkled in the water to get them excited about the project.

What balls to cast Eric Roberts as a bad guy. It’s easy to hate a terrible actor who is also remarkably caricature-like. Has George Hamilton asked him for his skin back?

And kudos to Stallone for writing just enough dialog for it to actually have dialog! How many times do you get to hear “Ya ‘member that time we was up in Bosnia?” in a movie?

Rambo had a lot of good lines, too. Like, he said, at one point, “don’t be ridiculous.” Indeed.

So yeah, I guess some people have a point that maybe the fight scenes are a little unrealistic. To them, I ask the question: how do you know? How many times have YOU been in a fist/knife/rope/mixed
martial arts/gun fight, much less one immediately after an automobile chase? Maybe that IS what it would look like! I can give you some details about a sword fight, but I will save that for another time.

And what about “the guys” being the only ones to not get blown to bits? Well, duh! It’s Rambo!

And the Transporter guy! Jason Statham is a perfect male pattern baldness specimen. We should clone him. I’d like to stuff him a couple of erectile dysfunction tabs, lock him in a room and have my way with him. Twice.

And Jet Li! And also, the dad from “Everybody Hates Chris!”

I was kind of disappointed that the stars from DieHard and The Terminator have apparently gotten too old for action. Glad they dropped in, though. Hopefully they won’t leave out Indiana Jones – and his whip - next time around, either! AAOOOOOWWW!!

Does it seem like I haven’t said much about this movie? Hmm… well, what’s there to say? You either like action, or you love it. Although some of the homoerotic love scenes were a bit drawn out, like when Rambo - or was it Rocky - shot the mean guy from Rocky IV.

Other notable details about this movie are that Mickey Rourke has apparently replaced his hair with strands of dried dog feces that have been in the sun so long they have turned white, and ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin’s nickname is apropos considering his acting abilities – I wasn’t sure if he was real or a cardboard cutout.

The Expendables is basically full of what it was supposed to be full of - sans the erections of yesteryear.

Shit explodes and a lot of bad dudes die.

If you are a stuffy, thinking, kind of person, you won’t like this movie.

But if you are like myself and feel you have a few brain cells to spare, it’s pretty hilarious.

Oh wait; it is a comedy, right?

Just remember – like the commercial says - you should seek immediate medical attention for an erection lasting longer than four hours. No - I’m not a doctor – but I’ve fucked a few in my day.

If you want to see what it’s like to fuck a chick with ALS – and you’ve got some time – come on up to The Bunny Ranch and see me some time. I’ll leave my ventilator on.

Madame Ovary (Guest Reviewer)

3 Naybobs

THE FIGHTER - Aka...Rocky VII (Only Good)

I gotta tell ya, whenever there's a "new" boxing and/or sports related movie being touted, my first reaction is WTF?! Except for Raging Bull and Ali, I can't think of a worse genre to use for movie fodder. What's that? Field of Dreams? Was it really THAT good of a movie? Yeah, just as I thought. Take it from King Hippo. My half-Korean daddy didn’t even know what a baseball was. Maybe I am just bitter.

Anyway, I mean, what the fuck is the WNBA?! Why the fuck would anyone pay to see the equivalent of a good men's high school basketball team when you already have the elite playing in the NBA? Beats the hell out of me.

That's why you have roller derby - to give dumbass women something physical to do that they're actually good at. Can you imagine Raquel Welch starring in a movie about playing in the WNBA? I know she’s 70 – that’s not the point. Anyway, it's also why the best known pornstars are WOMEN. It's something that they excel at. Are you starting to get my drift? It's exactly the same reason why there should be no women in the military. It's exactly the same reason why women should not be given top hierarchical jobs. It's exactly the same reason why women should not do stand-up comedy or write on this website!

Women are weaker than men, less funny than men, and are also genetically mentally fucked up from birth! The only reason women are allowed to live, is that Valley of Shangri La between their legs. This is an indisputable FACT.*

Anyway, The Fighter is one of those "based on a true story" type of films, about the professional boxing life of "Irish" Micky Ward who was/is the pride of that northeastern white trash enclave known as Lowell,MA. See, not ALL inbred rednecks come from the south, you elitest cocksuckers...Just 90% of them.

And, as is typical in "family businesses," there are always too many cooks in the kitchen. I am forbidden by my editor from using “there are always too many chiefs and not enough injuns.”

So, everyone wants a piece of Micky for their own selfish reasons. Christian Bale gives the performance of his life with his portrayal of Dicky Eklund, older brother and the former "pride of Lowell" who has degraded to an unreliable crack head, but still thinks that he can coach his brother to the big time. So without further ado, my FIFTH nomination of the year for best supporting actor goes to, drum roll please, Christian Bale.

I only have one quibble with this film. I mean, I know it's not one of those "high budget" or "cutting edge technology" flicks - where expense is no object and computer enhancements abound. But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, could you have spent more than 20 dollars for the makeup artist?!?!?!? For half this movie, Christian Bale is bopping around with a "bald spot" that looks like they slapped a 2 inch square of masking tape over the apex of his head! WTF?!?!?! And it looks like they didn't even bother to lift the hair up and place it as close to his scalp as possible. Oh, No. They just slapped that wad of tape right over his hair.

God. Where is Ron Popeil when you need him? Maybe his body can be exhumed and he can invent Bald-Spot-In-A-Can for these morons to use. Oh, I forgot, we can't use CFC's anymore since it's destroying the ozone layer which miraculously closed up even before CFC's were banned. I guess the ozone layer sensed the caring liberals' good intentions.

Here’s some breaking news – Ron Popeil is fucking alive. Better post this fast.



*DISCLAIMER: I have been informed by Dan Cedar that my ongoing tirades about minorities, jews, democrats, liberals, elitists, homosexuals, muslims, and welfare scum have given short shrift to misogyny. For this I apologize. What my rant in the previous paragraphs has to do with this movie - is anyone's guess. I just have a quota to fill. No, not that kind of quota, asshole. Don’t drag my ass into court based on some “reverse discrimination” lawsuit. I, King Hippo, can trace my ancestors back to all seven continents of earth. Tort reform that, mother fuckers!!

THE SOCIAL NETWORK - Aka...How To Blow A Billionaire

So, the scuttlebutt on this movie before it was released was that it was “not endorsed” by Facebook or its founder, Mark Zuckerberg. In fact, he was kind of pissed about it.


How fucking stupid do you think the American public is?? Don’t answer that.

I have a better question. When was the last time that a guy whose name ended in “berg” – who was a mult-Billionaire – couldn’t get a movie killed in Hollywood?

Go ahead. I will give you 30 seconds to scan your temporal lobe.

Here’s a prediction for you. Hollywood will produce a “theatrical reimagining” of The Courtship of Eddie’s Father before they cock block any movie about a “Berg” with 26 Billion skins in the bank, without his say-so.

We’re all pimps and whores and the movie business is no different.

King Hippo and Lady Spamalot would gladly tea bag any living uncircumcised “Berg” for a two sentence blurb about in Time magazine. This humble reviewer, Dan Cedar, would gladly offer the same service to the 20th uncircumcised person - brave enough to friend me on Facebook.

Which begs the question, how do you teabag an uncircumcised labia?

But, I digress.

The Social Network follows the rise of one-time Harvard student, Zuckerberg, from naïve computer geek, completely oblivious to any advertising or monetary inclinations - all the way through to his capacity to dick over any earthling by allowing his semi-stolen Facebook computer worm to infest the life of every human that has ever logged on to the internet.

Nice story arc – except that there is NO arc. One day he is a naïve computer geek in a Harvard Jewish fraternity. Then he is a greedy asshole billionaire computer geek. Now Google ‘causal relationship’.

This movie could have been A LOT more interesting than it was.

The other problem is that the actor playing Zuckerberg, Jessie Eisenberg, only has two facial expressions throughout the movie. a) Puzzled and b) Sarcastically Puzzled. That is good enough to get him an Academy Award nomination. (hmmm…another “Berg” – what a coincidence).

So, what have we REALLY learned here?

If you’re greedy and rich enough that you can subversively get a movie produced about your rise to brilliant computer entrepreneur - while distancing your endorsement of the self aggrandizing movie - then you can raise your profile, donate what amounts to 2 days of your salary to some tax-deductible charities, get a spot on Saturday Night Live, have your movie nominated for an Academy Award and oh, yeah get named Time magazine’s “Person of the Year.”

It just goes to show you that Stuart Smalley had it right all along. Just repeat after me Mr. Zuckerberg, “I’m smart enough. I’m rich enough. I know who to fuck-over, whom to tea-bag and who to just give one hell of a blow job. I am a billionaire and, gosh darnett, for some reason - people like me.”

Old Dan Cedar has tried these daily affirmations for two years. But, so far, neither my fellatial skills nor my website have lived up to my lofty expectations. Maybe, I will finally renounce my Lord and Saviour and just go with “Old Dan Cedarberg” from this point forward.

GET LOW - Aka...Hermits Are Scary People

PeruSing the local entertainment guide, I was aghast at the dearth of anything approaching a watchable movie this weekend. After some arm twisting and coercion by an apolitical skirt, I agreed to Fight the traffic and non existent parking at the local "historic" firetrap of a movie theater because in this town of 2 million plus, the only place you can see this flick is at the – one - "artsy" theater.


There are a few pluses to this place - full bar service, a seemingly more intelligent crowd who can afford to leave the screaming brats at home, and the only scolding you get is a discrete sign at the box office requesting you to "silence" your cell phone.

Hallelujah! No "in your face" idiot "turn off your cell phone" ads masquerading as previews.

Get Low is a dark comedy set in the Midwest during the 20's featuring Robert Duval as Felix Bush, a self imposed hermit who has had little contact with the outside world for the last 40 years.

"How apropos," I can hear Dan Cedar's condescending blather, "a hermit writing a review about a hermit!" ...To which I direct you to Dan Cedar's review of The Wrestler- an eight time loser writing a review about another eight time loser.

After a visit by the local pastor, Bush decides that he better plan for his eventual demise with a celebratory "pre-death" funeral in which the entire town and surrounding counties are invited.

After rebuffing the local church for his burial needs, Bush finds himself in touch with the local funeral home's lackey, "Buddy." Don't people name their dogs "Buddy?"

I mean, the only "buddy"s I know is a dog and Dan Cedar's alias as he's being cavity searched by the fuzz in the parking lot of a local Hooters after trying to seduce the "sound man" of his favorite garage band.

He also used “Buddy Love” while trying to make time with his wife’s high school chums while she was drowning her sorrowful laments in a 2 liter bottle of Grey Goose.

Geez!! I wonder what she would have to lament????

But – enough of my yakkin’. Back to the movie. After a brief meeting, the funeral home's owner, Frank Quinn (Bill Murray) strikes a deal with Bush to assist him with all of the funeral celebration's details. The subtle and not so subtle humor requires the viewer to pay Attention, and thankfully this is the type of audience that allows you to hear the dialogue in complete silence...that is, until my four decade old companion's phone goes off with a text message...motherfucker!

At first I thought that she had a roach crawling up her leg but it was merely her feeble attempt to squelch the noise from her phone. Hmmm, I guess that sign out front made an impression on her.

Hey honey – next time let your Boyfriend know that you will be out of pocket for a couple of hours!! Is this the way you conduct illicit affairs??


So – we aren’t having sex – yet!! Looks like I will be picking up my 28th copy of my favorite book from AmazonHow to have sex with a hermit - and get away with it, Duh!!

Most of the movie involves Quinn making arrangements for the funeral and Bush manipulating Quinn into doing everything, including his dirty work. Bill Murray should get a supporting actor nomination for his portrayal in this movie...yeah, I know! I'm up to THREE supporting actor nominations already!

Eat shit motherfuckers!

Anyway, at a particularly poignaNt part of the movie, “Miss Can't Read Signs"' text message Goes off again! I was waiting for Matt Foley to appear in the aisle, hiking up his ill fitting trousers, and screaming, "Wellll, lookee heeere dad!

Is that the Queen of Sheba? I guess she doesn't have to follow the rules like the rest of us!

Well, listen up missy! You keep thinking that you're better than everyone else and you'll end up like good old Matt - sleeping with a retarded cat, on a couch, in Dan Cedar's family room!"

Just keep it on the down low!