Hey! So anyway on Sunday afternoon I skipped out to see this here movie. (Finally saw a movay!) Called up a friend of mine and he met me at my (new) place to head over for a 1:45 show. (btw I'm all extra psyched because I now live literally three blocks away from a 10 screen theater!).

Anyway, my friend shows up and he checks out my new place then tells me he has to use my bathroom. I'm like, 'Duuude, you're not gonna smash up my new bathroom, right?... Just peeing?' He gives me a look. It's #2! I'm instantly immediately furious. I'm like, 'You can't just show up at someone's apartment and immediately smash up their bathroom!' He goes in and shuts the door. I'm in a fury. I almost never smash up people's bathrooms. Ever! It's one thing if you're having stomach issues (in which case -- stay home) but if you're just wandering around town and you show up at someone's home and have to smash -- it's being totally disrespectfully disorganized about your bathroom situation!

Anyway, he's in there for like ten minutes. I know he's smashing my bathroom to pieces. I'm thankful I have a window in there. After what seems like a destructive eternity -- he emerges in a haze of suspiciously strong Lysol ... and asks if I have a toilet brush. A toilet brush! I'm like, 'NOOOOO!' ... And I actually don't have a toilet brush because it's not something you pack when you move. I haven't bought a new one yet. I'm staring at him like, 'I can't believe you came over here and within 5 minutes go in and smash up my bathroom -- and there's actual physical damage!!' He tells me he'll go out and buy me a toilet friggin brush. I tell him that that's ridiculous. I grab one of the lengthy furry dog toys and a plastic bag and tell him to use that as a brush and then put it in the bag. I'm horrified and disgusted.

He goes in there and comes back out with the dog toy in a plastic bag. Roscoe is looking at me like, 'Wait... did he just use my toy as a toilet brush? That's disgusting!' I give Roscoe a look like, 'Gimme a break. The other day you ate a cupcake off the sidewalk that was covered in ants..'

Anyway, we walk down the street holding the bag and he throws it in a corner garbage can. I berate him and explain smash etiquette. I tell him what he did is unacceptable. Showing up and smashing needs to be done only if it's an emergency and completely shamefully. I order him to feel shame. He refuses. He feels I'm being ridiculous -- but I don't think I am! I take a hard line on stuff like this! I barely ever smashed at work let alone someone's new place!

Whatever. We went and saw Savages in a surprisingly crowded theater. I brought in watermelon chunks and snap pea snacks. Yadda yadda. It officially lowered the bar on what I can expect from Oliver Stone from here on out. Since Any Given Sunday it's been a hard slide. After the 9/11 vampiric World Trade Center and toothless W and vomatrocious mentally damaging Wall Street 2 -- a return to form seemed unlikely.

Is this movie good? Not really. Is it terrible? Not really. I thought the three main characters had practically no star wattage so that made it a challenge. The movie was low impact with brief flashes of a much cooler movie. It was like reading a poorly written book with an interesting through-line. Forgettable. Cheapee ending. Meandering. Every fifth scene worthwhile or coolio.

The saving grace being Benecio Del Toras disgustifying performance. Endless closeups of his fascinating shapeshifter of a face. Every time he walked on the screen it lifted the bootstraps of this movie. And in his face folds I could see glimpses into the movie this could have been. The other movie. The one that digs deep into whatever is going on with the cartels in Mexico. The endless violence and criminal politics. Y'know... the interesting movie. Nobody seems to know what the hell is going on down there. I'd sure like to see it up on the screen. The defining drug war movie.

Instead we get Blake Blively blondylocks hard-selling irresistibility like an infomercial. And Taylor Mumford falling short of discovering a personality. And Travolta doing us all a favor by giving up the ghost on his charmingly cadaverous appearance. Whatever. It sort of read like one of those fluffy Elmore Leonard movies that come and go in a flash. The Stone of old might have ditched the fluff and dug in on the cartel stuff and what fuels that fury of all the headchopping. Mighta made something controversial -- but with this flick he seemed way more interested in the quality of the weed than the quality of statement.

Three Good Things About this Movie

- Gotta appreciate Benecio who decided to embrace a role that is a straight up turn off.
- The relationship of the three was intriguing and seemed new.
- I liked the masks.

Three Bad Things About this Movie

- Over two hours long and not one moment pushed me back in my seat.
- They didn't even bother to introduce us to the fringe characters.
- It opted for Hollywood all around.

All in all, after almost crying while watching Wall Street 2 I figured we were seriously dealing with someone who lost his mind altogether. That one scene where Fox bumps into Gekko at the party was simply spirit crushing. This movie did keep hope alive that maybe something interesting can still come out of Oliver world and surprise us all-- but this movie was just a half inflated colorful beach ball. Hopefully, the next outing will grab the two big round ones that he probably still has tucked in there somewhere...