Fierce Anticipation: January 16-18


a blogumn by Ryan Dixon


My Bloody Valentine 3D

mybloodyvalentine3dposter2What exactly about My Bloody Valentine 3D is there not to like? Not only does it promise three dimensional gouging, stabbings and the occasional beheading, but it also features an appearance by the legendary Tom Atkins (who I wrote about last week) and was filmed in that great American city that is hosting this Sunday’s AFC Championship game: Pittsburgh. In fact, why are you still reading this blogumn? Why aren’t you in line at your nearest 3D theater, waiting to see this masterpiece? Turn off your computer and go. Now. Seriously.

Now in Theaters


Re-watching Vicky Cristina Barcelona

For those few remaining readers who obviously aren’t connoisseurs of high culture entertainment like My Bloody Valentine 3D, how about a weekend watching the lowbrow, nut-kicking pratfalls of Woody Allen?  Unlike many of the other septuagenarian directors who have hit sage status in recent years (Eastwood, Lumet, the late Robert Altman), Allen has seen his own brand erode to the point where the majority of discerning audience members look upon the release of each new film with all the excitement of a late night enema. To take one example: The marketing departments of the studios distributing Allen’s recent slate have gone out of their way to convince potential audiences that the trailers for Allen’s films are in fact, NOT Woody Allen films. Anyone, say, watching the trailer for Vicky Cristina Barcelona would have needed the Urim and Thummim of Joseph Smith to see Allen’s name anywhere in the trailer.

scarlettwoodyThus, one of the most pleasant surprises about Vicky Cristina Barcelona is that Allen refreshingly avoids many of his hallmarks that were once so refreshing, but have now grown sour in the 21st century. Instead, in this film, he seems to have infused his writing and directing with a sort of artistic Viagra (as if Viagra would be needed for any movie starring Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson); gone are almost all traces of the Upper West Side neurosis that infected even the Anglo Match Point and the truly awful Cassandra’s Dream and in their place is a freewheeling, lustful joi di vivre.

Even more impressive is that while Allen has often been a master at creating female characters, the Vicky and Cristina of Vicky Cristina Barcelona pop off the screen as uniquely contemporary characters that feel more like the creations of a Sophia Coppola than a 70 year-old clarinet playing, coke-bottle glasses wearing, Knicks fan.  To hearken back the opening lines of Annie Hall, even if he’s not always at the top of his game, a Woody Allen film is one club that I’m always happy to join.

Now on DVD.


The Baltimore Ravens

baltimoreravensThe Baltimore Ravens suck. Disagree? Feel free to explain why they don’t suck in the comments section below, but please realize that you’re wrong and it has been scientifically proven that a Ravens fan has a 72% greater chance of being a douche than a non-Ravens fan*.

With that being said, I do admire the fact that they are the only NFL team, and perhaps the only team in all of sports, whose mascot is based on a literary character; in this case Edgar Allen Poe’s infamous Nevermore squawking bird from his poem, “The Raven.” In fact, this month happens to be the bicentennial of Poe’s birth and, as the New York Times reported last year, a scholarly feud of hip-hop proportions has erupted between Baltimore and Philadelphia over which city holds claim over his artistic legacy and rotten remains.

So, if the Philadelphia Eagles beat the Arizona Cardinals in the NFC Championship game on Sunday and if, God forbid, the Ravens manage to eek out a victory over the Steelers (Note: They won’t. So, just think of the following paragraphs as a whimsical exercise in writing an imaginary Borgeisan blogumn.) I have an idea that would spice up what would surely be a Super Bowl flop since, in this totally hypothetical world, the Pittsburgh Steelers would not be playing in said championship game:

Instead of the Super Bowl winner just taking home another tired Lombardi trophy, why don’t the cities of Philadelphia and Baltimore let the Poe debate be settled on the football field?  The winner could claim the opium loving Edgar as the city’s favorite son and thus be awarded the right to forever store the corpse in their metropolitan necropolis.

Just think of it, if the Ravens win, the traditional Super Bowl victory parade can end at the already existing Poe gravesite in Baltimore where Ray Lewis will surely do one of his crazy dances, praise God, Jesus, Allah, and the Tooth Fairy, recite a verse of “Annabel Lee” and lay the Poe Toaster
down with a brutal open field tackle.

Or, if Philadelphia ends up victorious they can use their parade to transport Poe’s remains in a casket, state funeral style, up South Street to a grave site underneath the Rocky statue while the on-looking citizens, in a natural progression from the infamous 1968 Eagles game where they pelted Santa Claus with snow balls, become the first populous, since the Italians strung up Mussolini, to boo a corpse.

Again, as fun as all this sounds, it will never happen because the STEELERS ARE GOING TO BEAT THE RAVENS! THE STEELERS ARE GOING TO BEAT THE RAVENS! (Crossing fingers as I type…knocking on wood…genuflecting…trolling the internet for a small child or virgin bride to sacrifice…)


*The only fan base with a higher percentage of douches are those of the Dallas Cowboys. If you are a Cowboys fan, you have a 100% chance of being a douche.