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New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

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Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

Watching Air Force One right now. Forgot what a great movie it was.
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

Brenthoven said:
I swear, if you ever, and I mean EVER, turn off Full Metal Jacket during the first half of it, you hate America, movies, and your mother.
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And the Virgin Mary. You do love the Virgin Mary, don't you!?
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

duper said:
Well. You've got guts.
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:D

Even if she DID have God's kid, that makes her high maintenance, and I have no use for high maintenance women. ;)
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

Brenthoven said:
:D

Even if she DID have God's kid, that makes her high maintenance, and I have no use for high maintenance women. ;)
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I will not write that insipid 3-letter abreviation, but this actually literally made me laugh out loud.
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

This looks like fun:


Feels like more of a summer movie to me, but it's slated to come out at Christmas.
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

Scarlet said:
Went to see Battleship. Two hours of utter ridiculousness, cheesy dialogue, lots of explosions and pretty, pretty men. Thoroughly entertained. And I really needed that mindless break. And it was a mini FNL reunion with Taylor Kitsch and Jesse Plemons.
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So you were one of the 12 people to go see that pile?
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

REDaero91 said:
This looks like fun:

Click to expand...

Here's hoping. A lot of people hated the Redford version, I thought it was fine (Waterston stole the show; he was born to play Nick. Dern was also perfect as Tom.)

Can't wait for the atmospherics of the valley of ashes.

- - -

About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes--a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight. But above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic--their irises are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness, or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days, under sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground.

The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and, when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour. There is always a halt there of at least a minute, and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan's mistress.

The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known. His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew. Though I was curious to see her, I had no desire to meet her--but I did. I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon, and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and, taking hold of my elbow, literally forced me from the car.

"We're getting off," he insisted. "I want you to meet my girl."
 
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Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

Kepler said:
Here's hoping. A lot of people hated the Redford version, I thought it was fine (Waterston stole the show; he was born to play Nick. Dern was also perfect as Tom.)

Can't wait for the atmospherics of the valley of ashes.

- - -

About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes--a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight. But above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic--their irises are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness, or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days, under sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground.

The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and, when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour. There is always a halt there of at least a minute, and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan's mistress.

The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known. His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew. Though I was curious to see her, I had no desire to meet her--but I did. I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon, and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and, taking hold of my elbow, literally forced me from the car.

"We're getting off," he insisted. "I want you to meet my girl."
Click to expand...
Ummm, what movie is this talking about?
 
Re: New/Rented Movies: Have Mercy on Michael Bay's Soul, He Knows Not What He Does

bigblue_dl said:
Not a fan of Entourage, I take it?
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Quite. I watched a few minutes of it once. I realize that's no real basis for a decision, but there you have it... :)
 
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