Monday, June 30, 2014

My Tops of 2014 - June

THE NUT JOB could have been inoffensive fare for kids if it didn't have a setting full of anachronisms and a plot where Darwinism is thrown right in the trash.

THE MONUMENTS MEN will be perfect for Sundays, Memorial Day, and Veteran's Day on TNT. Its heart was in the right place but it's just another so-so product from George Clooney.

VAMPIRE ACADEMY was a bit of a guilty pleasure for me, even though the exposition-filled dialogue wouldn't stop and it had the attitude of a black pot, stupidly daring to call out other YA movies.

I, FRANKENSTEIN surely had an abnormal brain. And where the hell were all of the people?!

SON OF GOD was religious malarkey. It sucked on TV and it still sucks here.

POMPEII was a cheesy fun epic, making Cecil B. DeMille proud. Any detractors will at least have to agree that it had the balls to be nihilistic in its ending.

JACK RYAN: SHADOW RECRUIT is just rentable. It quickly dissipates from the viewer's mind once you hit stop, except for how bad Kenneth Branagh is as the heavy.

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 is certainly not better in any way over the first film but it is an enjoyable watch.

THE FAULT IN OUR STARS wasn't my thing. God bless Willem Dafoe.

The same number of films watched as last month. Need to do better.

Halftime. So far, this year has been really good.

As you can see, Under the Skin has found its way onto the "Best of" list. As predicated, the movie has stuck with me and improved with time. I'll revisit it next month when it hits video, so it has the opportunity to jump up the chart.

Best Films of 2014

1. The Lego Movie

2. The Raid 2

3. The Grand Budapest Hotel

4. Captain America: The Winter Soldier

5. Under the Skin

Worst Films of 2014

1. The Other Woman

2. Heaven Is For Real

3. The Amazing Spider-Man 2

4. The Legend of Hercules

5. I, Frankenstein

6. Enemies Closer

7. Son of God

8. Welcome to the Jungle

9. The Nut Job

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

The Fault In Our Stars - Review

Teenager Hazel Lancaster (Shailene Woodley) has been suffering from cancer all her young life, which has since spread into her lungs but she has somehow survived from it due to a miracle drug. Recently diagnosed with depression, she starts to attend a church support group, where she lock eyes with Augustus Waters (Ansel Elgort), a boy stricken with a disease that has already cost him a leg. The two bond and slowly start to fall in love amid all of the medical drama. I'll state the obvious first: This movie wasn't made specifically for me. But, even if this came out during my teen years, I would still roll my eyes throughout its two hour running time. All of the contrived, hipster dialogue was pathetic, never making care for the characters at all during the first act. Word of warning: If you see Augustus put a cigarette in his mouth for the first time, run to the concession stand as soon as possible unless you somehow seek to suffer from a massive groan. The middle chapters are a bit better, moving the story to Amsterdam and allowing Woodley to fully show her immense charm and Elgort to finally break out as an actor. It also gives us not only the film's best sequence but one of the best cameos of the year. These great elements don't fully excuse the creepily designed first kiss scene between the two though. Once you reach the last stretch, you pretty much know where it's going to go, so be ready to wade your shoes through a river of tissues as you exit. Even then, however, director Josh Boone finds a way to wreck things, ruining the most devastating scene thanks to spoiler narration. Though I give it a low rating, THE FAULT IN OUR STARS wasn't a waste of romance. It had its own eccentric set of charms, pleasing to some but not all viewing it.


Monday, June 23, 2014

Strange Bedfellows - TL Hopper and Who

Oh boy, what a shit tag team we have for today. I say shit not just because they were just that, as both wrestlers were inducted into the fine halls of WrestleCrap, but because one of the two loved to roll around in it and even eat some on live television. Well, sorta of.

If you ever need to know why the WWF was losing steam fast with audiences in 1996, look no further than this match. On this day, while WCW had the nWo running wild and featuring an awesome battle between Rey Mysterio Jr. and Ultimo Dragon for the WCW Cruiserweight title, Vince McMahon was presenting the worst of the so-called New Generation.

TL Hopper is the wrestler formerly known as Dirty White Boy, a regional favorite in Smoky Mountain Wrestling. Upon walking through Titan Towers, the man pulled a random card from the job gimmick pile and came away with friendly plumber. Other than being bequeathed a plunger named Betsy and the absolute worst entrance theme ever devised (I'm not kidding!), Hopper was infamously known for being part of an angle during the pre-show of Summerslam 1996, where he re-enacted, to poor results, the legendary Baby Ruth gag from Caddyshack.

Who was Jim "The Anvil" Neidhart under a mask. He wore ungodly yellow briefs. His entire gimmick centered around him being an in-joke to the famous Abbott & Costello routine "Who's on First?" That's it. This ancient reference flew over the heads of every kid in the 90's, and if they somehow did get it, they would wonder why he doesn't look like a rock star and why Slappy Squirrel wasn't with him.

Why were they partnered up and quasi-heels here? I don't know! (™ Lex Luger) But the bigger question is why wasn't Hopper grouped with his fellow working class hero, the garbage collector now jailbird Duke "The Dumpster" Droese. It makes so much sense! They could have been called The Dumpers, Poop & Scoop, or Men at Work, with Keith David as their manager. If they were in WCW, they would've been The Trashmen, complete with a copyright-daring rip-off of "The Bird". Sadly, Hopper and Droese weren't meant to be, as they fought each other on Superstars a month and a half before this match on the 8/12/1996 episode of Monday Night Raw.

They are set to face off against The Godwinns, the duo that was so popular, that they were the back-to-back winners of the Wrestling Observer's Worst Tag Team of the Year award in 96 and 97. Personally, I don't think they deserve this harsh distinction (High Voltage, anyone?) but they also weren't worthy of a paycheck either. The hillbilly trend in wrestling died fast in the 80's due to McMahon constantly churning out and showcasing many untalented competitors in overalls and its revival with the Blu Brothers in 1995 didn't usher in any heat. Plus, no matter how many times they threw the bucket of slop at someone post-match, seeing the two go over teams like L.O.D. was always pathetic.

The match starts and already you can hear the utter apathy of the crowd. No one cares two licks about any of these geeks. A call of "Suueey!" issues a golf-clap from the audience. I guess they are still recovering from the shocking return of Crush and his bad work-rate earlier in the night.

An awful rebound hip-toss by Henry O. Godwinn has Who land awkwardly on his ass. Who gets up and immediately goes 180 and just stares at Phineas. Henry freezes up before Neidhart gets his act back together and they continue the epic display of stalling and wrestling basics.

Despite this being a contest, the real attention is instead focused on the commentators, namely guest Mr. Bob Backlund. Unfortunately, this is an off-night for him, as he slowly stumbles over his declaration of bringing in someone important and of decent character to the federation to take on Shawn Michaels. Spoiler: his future client will absolutely suck but somehow get some heavyweight title shots against Psycho Sid.

This rant then segues into Mr. Backlund going off on the American public school system. He's suppose to be delivering a Republican-friendly diatribe over the lack of the Bible being an integral part of education. To appease Standards and Practices, he instead tells McMahon that schools don't teach "Thou shall not STEAL!" and "Thou shall not KILL!" Apparently, Helen of Troy and Archduke Franz Ferdinand don't exist in textbooks.

But then comes the greatest moment ever to be broadcasted "live" on Raw. Here's a transcript:


McMahon: Okay, so wait a minute…
Backlund: HOW!


Backlund: TO not acquire AIDS!

McMahon: Well, I...

Pure genius. Both Vince and Jerry try their best not to corpse. Mr. Backlund then gets up to distract the fans, thus generating the only buzz in this entire match.

Meanwhile in the squared circle, Hopper signals for his finisher, a brainbuster he calls "Down the Drain". His finisher taunt is supposed to be him operating a plunger but he doesn't do the easy-win-for-charades technique of two fists on top of each other and jerking it up and down. Hopper instead does it way too fast and with his arms wide open, making him look like he's giving a reach-around to an elephant. R. Lee Ermey would be proud.

Phineas goes for the Antarctic-style hot tag for the finish but again, the attention is turned to something else. Kevin Dunn, why must you forsake me? So now we have to sit through another split-screen interview, this time with Commissioner Gorilla Monsoon. ADD quickly sets in, as Vince is so concerned about the IC Title situation and Ahmed Johnson's status that he tells Gorilla to "look at" Henry's big boot.

Henry delivers the Slop Drop to Who, with the latter botching it, to end this bowling-shoe-ugly match. Neidhart, the scrub that he is, immediately gets up after the move and leaves the ring. Alas, the immense pain doesn't stop. The interview continues on amid the Godwinns celebrating to their music, causing Jerry Lawler to be unable to hear anything and audibly asking "What?" Sensing the upcoming ad break, Gorilla speeds through the rest of his script.

But it gets even worst: If you're watching the WWE's edited version of the broadcast, the Godwinns' theme of "Don't Go Messing with a Country Boy" is replaced with a public domain hillbilly tune, further drowning out Gorilla. What a complete mess.

I get that this was supposed to be an enhancement team but this duo is way too random. Jim Neidhart may not have been a great singles worker but the man was a tag team expert, and the only thing he does with Hopper here is an assisted elbow to the arm and a double back body drop. Thankfully, this was their only match together, as they were both flushed back down to the undercard. Hopper, however, would have the last laugh, as he later became the new manager of his redneck opponents in 1997, helping them win and lose the tag titles.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit - Review

JACK RYAN: SHADOW RECRUIT, the latest attempt by Hollywood to make us re-care about a dinosaur property, has the titled character (Chris Pine) battling some Russian non-action figures. He must prevent them from crafting another Great Depression for America, through the "fairy dust" nature of Wall Street stocks and the power of the American dollar. Apparently, the filmmakers forgot that this plot conflict also helped tank SPEED RACER. Though I was satisfactory with the usual blockbuster theatrics during its viewing, the movie quickly sailed away from my mind once the ending credits stopped ascending into nothingness. This vapor attention quickly transformed into a major case of fridge logic, as I was grasping straws trying to answer its plot holes, such as how Ryan is traumatized by his first kill yet is perfectly fine with murder all around him and by his own hands the very next day.

Even if you can give the vanilla, out-dated story a pass, the acting talent is harder to accept because it is not a tough pill to swallow but a large suppository. Pine delivers his worst performance since moving on up to the A-list, able to show off a few moments of charisma but often resorts to having his bushy eyebrows to do his job. Keira Knightley is a walking distraction; her unintelligible American accent would been her biggest red flag were it not for the loud sexism fully blanketing her character. Whether it is when her status as a white-woman-in-peril finally pops up or when she quickly believes that Ryan is having an affair because he dared to spend his mid-afternoon watching SORRY, WRONG NUMBER at The Film Forum, Cathy Mueller is a disgrace to see on the big screen in this day and age. But the absolute nadir of crap featured here is its director Kenneth Branagh, who stupidly forced himself into the picture as the main baddie. Able to keep the movie moving along off-camera, sacrificing his visual flair in order to maintain the institutionalized mediocrity of Hollywood, his acting presence stops everything in its tracks. He performs the evil role of Viktor Cherevin as a third-rate puppet, barely moving his lips to deliver a laughable Ruskie accent and maintaining a blank angry face. Unless you worship at the shrine of Tom Clancy and/or desperately need new thrillers in order to survive in this world, stick to Baldwin and Ford.


Monday, June 16, 2014

Pompeii - Review

A sole surviving Celt grows up to be an upstart gladiator nicknamed, well, Celt (Kit Harington). He's still searching to spill the blood of the Roman general (Kiefer Sutherland) who orchestrated the death of his clan and his parents. Opportunity strikes when he arrives in the coliseum of the titled city, where he gets mixed up with the melodrama befalling a free-thinking ingenue (Emily Browning) and her family, who are trying to negotiate for reconstruction funding with said general. As all of this is going on, the camera occasionally focuses on the next-door volcano, slowly awaiting for Mount Vesuvius to go boom and set up the CGI-extravagant finale. POMPEII isn't actually the most original work of popcorn fare; it cribs from GLADIATOR liberally but not as much as a certain other male beefcake flick released this year. Despite the familiar story elements, the movie is satisfactory enough to kick back and enjoy, able to sustain interest with the viewer and allow them to relish in its throwback nature both to the swords-and-sandals epics and the natural disaster movies. The acting is cheesy smooth, particularly with Sutherland's odd inflections, except for Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, who is the dramatic center as a brooding arena champion. It hiccups often with its blatant green-screening at the very end but director Paul W.S. Anderson is able to reverse course with a justifiably uncompromising ending.


Saturday, June 14, 2014

Son of God - Review

SON OF GOD is a pathetically rotten feature film, born not to re-showcase the life, death, and rebirth of Jesus Christ for modern audiences but to make Christian viewers pay for something they already got for free on television. In other words, it is a film designed by mega-producer Mark Barnett and his devilish cronies to replicate the disgusting economics of an iOS video game app. The movie is a simple cut-and-paste job of the Jesus episodes of the recent miniseries The Bible, with a few extra scenes added in to falsely distinguish itself as a new property. The makers were so lazy that they even kept in the fade ins and outs for commercial air-time. A few of the film's major low-points: the massive amount of pointless flashbacks, some of which re-show plot points that literally just happened a minute ago; CGI buildings that could have been better designed and filmed by a crew of practical model makers; a voiceover narration by John that is non-justifiable, since he's not focused on at all nor is he present during nearly all of the story; a fishing scene where the caught fish are clearly long past dead and are notably reused later during the altered view of The Feeding of 5,000; and subplots that have no reason to be present, such as how John the Baptist's execution causes Jesus to have a 3-second recollection. Diogo Morgado, the actor given the taunting task of playing Jesus, is so blasphemously smug, making the holy figure to appear as the vile threat the Pharisees see him as. But his one-dimensional emotions pale greatly when compared to producer/actress/diva Roma Downey, who gave herself the prime role of Mary. Layered in heavy make-up and often a distracting sore due to her pale whiteness, she ruins any pathos that could possibly be generated during the trial and crucifixion sequences. Not content enough to spoil the finale with her bad acting chops, Downey is again placed upfront during the end credits, where the Christmas jingle "Mary, Did You Know?" is played over a music video of her highlights. This film is supposed to be about Jesus (he's in the title, for God's sakes), not about the vain producer fronting the bill. The flock have already foolishly believed to themselves that this film is a righteous depiction of their Lord and Savior but, except for the desperate Sunday schoolteachers, they will eventually finally open their eyes and see it as the wretched creature it is.


Friday, June 13, 2014

I, Frankenstein - Review

In this demented fan-fiction-like sequel to the Mary Shelley classic, based on a comic book no one gives two licks about, Frankenstein's Monster (Aaron Eckhart) finds himself caught in between the eternal war of angels and demons. However, original creator Kevin Grevioux (UNDERWORLD) and director Stuart Beattie thought that wasn't cool enough, so the angels now have the form of stone gargoyles and the demons are just generic baddies with evil fingernails and explode in a fiery display when killed. Oh, and The Monster a.k.a. Adam somehow has survived two centuries of life, bringing his divine justice to an European city that has no clear landmarks and has absolutely no one residing in it besides the main characters. So much for saving the world, huh, you holy gargoyles? I, FRANKENSTEIN is kinda amazing in how much abject failure is present in every scene. It's fully cloaked in CGI explosions and color correction yet look likes a standard horrendous direct-to-DVD/direct-to-Syfy; for example, take a good look at Yvonne Strahovski's apartment, which looks like it hands out a free tetanus shot to every visitor. The story is a horror-show, featuring such unexplainable plot elements like the angels turning full-blown heel for a stretch, the heroine dooming the entire world because her old co-worker might die, and a romance between a blond woman and a 200+ year old zombie. I haven't even brought up Bill Nighy's paycheck role as a demon king seeking eternal life but you should get my point. Unless you enjoy sitting through sheer dumb horror hybrids, you best leave this corpse to remain buried.


Vampire Academy - Review

If you want to follow the plot and mythos of VAMPIRE ACADEMY, be sure to wear extra tight noise-canceling headphones because you will need to pay full attention. The exposition comes out loud and fast, from the opening scenes to Act Three, as two teenage girls must explain every nook and cranny about this world, all the while trying to survive a year at an institution that only operates after dusk. One is a traditional nightwalker but of royal vampire blood (Lucy Fry) while the other one is her guardian (Zoey Deutch), who is labelled to be a Dhampir but never shows any powers or traits of her own, except for the sheer fact that she looks and acts like a perfect clone of Ellen Page. There's more material for this movie to crib from than just JUNO: screenwriter Daniel Waters and director Mark Waters regurgitate their work on HEATHERS and MEAN GIRLS respectively, HARRY POTTER-"inspired" magic and the structure of a fantasy-run school system are xeroxed, and there's a little sprinkling of PRETTY IN PINK. The film even dares to call out TWILIGHT for ruining the YA landscape, even though it unleashes two bland, inappropriately aged love interests to woo the two girls. This becomes more ironic because the sexual chemistry between the girlfriends is far more effective. Despite all of its torturous anti-compression and copy-pasting of better movies, I guiltily enjoyed this to a certain degree. The snarky ribbing between the friends and the near-constant trading of barbs with their foes made it pseudo-witty. Many have labelled this as one of the worst and cheapest teen book adaptations; I would gladly watch this again and again before revisiting total disasters like THE HOST.


Thursday, June 12, 2014

Ruby Dee - RIP

Ruby Dee has died. She was 91 years old.

Dee commanded the Broadway stage since the 1940's, eventually being written into the history books for her star-making performance as Ruth Younger in the original production of A Raisin in the Sun. She reprised the character on the big screen in 1961. Her film career, as with many black actors at the time, was heavily marginalized. She had better luck on television, appearing on many shows and even helped bring the theater to everyone's living rooms with several televised plays. It wasn't until the 80's and beyond that her place in film was made, thanks to upstart directors like Spike Lee. She stole scenes in movies like Do The Right Thing, Jungle Fever, and American Gangster; the latter film awarded her an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress.

Of course, her career in the arts is absolutely pointless when compared to her fruitful life as a civil rights activist, often with her husband Ossie Davis by her side.

She will be missed.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Trailer Review - Dumb and Dumber To

Dumb and Dumber To
1st Trailer
Watch It Here

Person of Interest: Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels return as the clearly aged Lloyd and Harry, and a blink-and-miss cameo of Rob Riggle.

Scene Pop: Ugh, the fingering finale.

Briggs Breakdown: 4 callbacks, 2 scenes of genitalia humor, a disastrous firework gag, vending machine camouflage (the hell?), and the asshole of a cat.

Effective?: Unfortunately yes but for only the desperate fans looking forward to this sequel.

Check it Out?: No, no, no. I'll admit I'm biased: I haven't liked the works of the Farrelly Brothers for a long, long time. Even the movies I previously liked of their's haven't aged well for myself. Even those who still like them realize that they are comedy dinosaurs: the last acclaimed movie from them was Me, Myself, & Irene, which was back in 2000! Their last three films were all terrible and their name was further diminished by Peter's supervision over last year's mammoth fiasco Movie 43. And just look at this footage! Carrey and Daniels are both badly lit and look incredibly old. The gags are either really lame or completely gross (they can't possibly get a PG-13 rating with grandma's finger-bang included, can they?). Expect this to be the Little Fockers of 2014.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Monuments Men - Review

In the last years of WWII, a specially selected group of art experts and historians, led by George Clooney, brave into the battlelines of the Western Campaign in order to identify and retrieve any works of art stolen by the Nazis for Hitler's proposed dream museum. Their mission becomes more dire when bodies begin to drop and the Nazis are ordered to destroy any property currently in their possession. Though based on an incredible true story, actor-director Clooney and his screenwriters treat the material like a 4th grade football team, constantly fumbling up the current plotlines before throwing in brand new ones that hinder the focus of the game. For example, the film's MacGuffin is established right in the prologue to be the "Ghent Altarpiece" and is shown to be something people are willing to sacrifice their lives in order to protect it from greedy hands. Once Act Two starts, the "Ghent" is placed on the back-burner because the new MacGuffin is now Michelangelo's "Mother and Child", since one of the many non-fleshed-out characters littered into the script became a bullet-ridden corpse. The same thing happens with the antagonists, switching from the retreating, art-destroying Nazis to the advancing, art-pillaging Russians. Despite these great faults, the movie is pleasant and harmless enough to spend an afternoon watching, preferably when it premieres on basic cable next year. It actively wants to recapture the mood and style of a late 40's war picture, the kind that packed matinees and usually featured a big draw like John Wayne. THE MONUMENTS MEN may be an easy sit but a better vision and a tighter script would have easily proven why art is an important part of human existence.


Sunday, June 8, 2014

The Nut Job - Review

A loner squirrel/master thief finds a huge score when he comes across a nut shop within the heart of the city. However, his pursuit to steal its entire treasure trove gets more complicated, thanks to distractions such as his fellow park animals, a guard dog, and a group of robbers using the place as cover for their own bank robbery. At first glance, THE NUT JOB seems to be another mediocre animated feature to distract the kids for a hour and change. But by fully observing it, the attentive viewer is left in a prolonged state of utter confusion. Its entire art design invokes the 20-30s gangster era, yet it features anachronisms like a rap musical score and the ultra-strange inclusion of the song "Gangnam Style". The plot doesn't just twist and turn, it does u-turns, knock off some side mirrors, before finally hitting a brick wall of stupidity. For instance, the protagonist Surly (Will Arnett) is exiled from the city park for the destruction of the tree holding the community's food supply, despite the sheer fact that the violent act wouldn't have happened if the good female squirrel (Katherine Heigl) didn't force a gas-powered peanut cart to be driven into the park. She somehow escapes punishment for her crime, the same treatment that is also given to a comedic mole (Jeff Dunham) who later turns heel and viciously tries to kill his comrades by drowning them. I'm sadden to be such a critical detractor to Peter Lepeniotis' animal opus, especially since the film does have some genuinely tender moments and features a funny character with Maya Rudolph's Dug-like pug. But I can't give it any extra pity or an uptick in the rating, certainly not when it advocates a world of idiocracy or mines the hell out of "cops love donuts" jokes.


Saturday, June 7, 2014

The "Ant-Man" Turmoil: Peyton Reed Picked to Replace Edgar Wright

I wanted to hold off from speaking my mind about this giant controversy until the game of musical chairs finally ended.

Back on May 23rd, cult comedy writer-director Edgar Wright announced that he was leaving his duties for Ant-Man, the first movie of Marvel Studios' Phase 3 line-up. The news was burned off over the weekend in order to distract the world at large but many caught on and foamed profusely through the mouth. Wright helped shepherd the project into fruition for over a decade, as he and his buddy Joe Cornish wanted to do justice to the superhero on the big screen. The business split between Wright and Marvel was uncovered somewhat to be over his script and direction, though Wright has continued to remain mum.

After much online bile spewed at them, with many misguided commenters labeling this decision as the first step towards Marvel's downfall, the studio picked a replacement director. They really wanted Adam McKay, the writer-director of the Anchorman movies, but he tweeted out that his scheduled was busy but not enough so as he would later be announced today as its script director. Another top pick was David Wain; this strange contender makes logical sense, since Wain and Ant-Man's star Paul Rudd are best of buds, and he would possibly fit as a suitable substitute for Wright, since he too has an eclectic taste and view on comedy.

Unfortunately, it was proclaimed today by Marvel that Peyton Reed is the new director. Everybody had the same reaction: Who? Reed hasn't made a feature film in over six years, instead doing a couple of television episodes for sitcoms, but he's best known for Yes Man and The Break-Up.

I will say this first: I do hope he can pull off this project and make a fun movie. Now, let me be mean: Reed is no auteur, nor has a distinct presence in Hollywood. Those two comedies of his made money but were quickly forgotten about months later. Honestly, has anyone beyond a USA or TNT viewer had anything to say about either film today? Supporters of Reed do bring up that he also did the teen classic Bring It On and the rom-com pastiche Down With Love. Those are fair points but the former movie's auteur was its writer Jennifer Bendinger, who would later create the cult girl power flick Stick It, while the latter movie banks solely on the viewer's knowledge of the fluffy sex comedies of the 60's, hence why it floundered at the box office.

But again, I do wish Reed makes this whole thing work. For you see, even if Wright stayed on, the film's biggest problem is the main character himself. I frankly hate the character of Ant-Man; his powers are really stupid to comprehend in other visual mediums and his very rough comic book history has always put him right next to Cyclops and Mr. Fantastic at the top of numerous "Most Hated Marvel Characters" lists. More importantly, it seems that none of these people noticed the common man's view of the superhero and realized that paying for a ticket to see something called "Ant-Man" is highly embarrassing. Hell, there was even a film released this year literally called Ant-Boy, and it was a frivolous kids' movie.

So, let's just wait and see what happens at this year's Comic-Con and when the first trailer hits the web.