MEET Movie Maven Marvin – Spies, Gay Sex & Saag Paneer

Movie maven Marvin Brill reviews movies he hasn’t seen. This publication takes no responsibility for his claims.

Lucky you: it’s been another dismal week in Hollywood and another painful reminder that art is dead. Ho-hum.

I tell you, fellow Sacramentans, I wouldn’t wipe my blemished butt cheek with the schlock in theaters this March. Luckily, I don’t have to. I use the Bee’s movie ticket funds to buy hemorrhoid cream and antacid. At least one of us will be sitting easy.

Let’s start with Duplicity. (Do we have to?) It stars Julia Roberts and Clive Owen. More like Boolia Boberts and Blive Bowen. I mean really, these two have about as much chemistry as a flask of H2O. I mean, it’s there, but so see-through. Bo-ring. What are they gonna do? Trade “witticisms” and “banter” and “bodily fluids” for two hours? I can watch that for free through the hole in the wall I share with the Radcliffes next door. C’mon people, I’ve got taxes to file! I’ll tell you what happens. Julia spies on Clive, Clive spies on Julia, back and forth we go, round and round, but in the end I tell you someone will die. It has to happen. Murder. This is the CIA and MI6! Scary. If they don’t kill each other, it would be completely unrealistic. And if they do… Well, I’ve already not seen Mr. and Mrs. Smith, thank you. So, I’ve “ruined” the movie, stay home and spy on your neighbors, save a few bucks.

Next up, I Love You, Man with Paul Rudd and Josh Segal. At first I thought this might be a piece about man’s appreciation of mankind. What a work is man, indeed! But nilch; and then Paul Rudd waltzed in. All the ladies swoon over Paul Rudd, and just for that I’d like to stuff him into a pillowcase and forget about him until next Halloween. I don’t trust good looking people (see: Duplicity, or don’t). Okay, so the Paul Rudd character finds out he’s gay. Big deal. Everybody’s gay. That’s no reason to make a movie about it. Get original, people. You’re wasting your lives!

Now, you may have noticed that I’ve yet to review Slumdog Millionaire, this year’s “Best” Motion Picture. I’ve received many an e-complaint on the very matter. Here’s what I think: Too. Much. India. Enough already! We get it! You’re all speaking a language I don’t understand! Way to rub it in my face! And what’s with the fakey fake British accents? So typical. You can always tell a hackneyed actor when he globs on the British accent for a foreign part. Please. Your audience is smarter than you think, my little tikka masalas.

–Marvin Brill, Sacremento Bee

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