http://www.reuters.com/article/mediaNews/idUSN2341233220080623

This is incredibly difficult.

Not difficult to believe, no. Not by a longshot. Anyone who’d seen Carlin interviewed or performing during the last few years can’t be surprised by this news – the man, after all, called his (as it turns out) next-to-last HBO Comedy Special “Life is Worth Losing.”

The difficult part is finding a way to say what I want to say about the man WITHOUT dipping into sentimentality, piety or (worst of all) psuedo-spirituality. He’d HATE that. The best way I can think of is to stay on-topic.

Of the artists and entertainers who’ve influenced my worldview and my own manner of self-expression, I don’t think any of them were a STRONGER and more tangible influence than Carlin. Watching his HBO specials, introduced to them by my parents, were the first time I ever really got the notion of how hugely important and beneficial it could be to truly UNDERSTAND language.

Carlin was part of an explosion of new-breed comedians that came up in the 60s and 70s, his influence often compared to that of Richard Pryor. He “broke through” largely on the strength of his seminal work, the infamous “seven words you can’t say” routine. It was packed with shock-value and attention-grabbing sarcasm, but at it’s core it was the first shot of what would become the bedrock of his art: Language-analysis as comedy. He would get onstage and not ONLY pontificate hillariously on all manner of subjects taboo and mundane – but also take his own material apart piece-by-piece; exploring the meaning of words, their use and misuses and (best of all) what the MISUSE of a word had to say about the mindset and even AGENDA of the person misusing it. For me, this was a revelation: Words weren’t just powerful – they could be WEAPONS. Properly mastered, studied and respected, language itself could be a sort of mental/verbal martial-art… one could literally tear an opponent’s argument apart or even turn it against him simply by knowing the weapons – the WORDS -more completely than he did.

Just about the whole of modern “topical” comedy and satire can trace itself back to him – had there never been a George Carlin, there would be no Daily Show, no Colbert Report, no any of that. But he never rested on his laurels, and never seemed to grow content. Most comedians, hell… most ENTERTAINERS, period, who start out “edgy” tend ton soften as years go on – he never did. It seemed as though the longer George Carlin spent among humanity, the more aspects of it he found to infuriate and disgust him… and the more ways he found to turn his fury and disgust into humorous release. Most people who are “radical” in youth come to change their mind about “the establishment” once THEY ARE the establishment – he never did. The comic who’d slammed ‘the man’ and the Vietnam war in his youth would in old age slam grown-up ‘liberals’ for changing “shell shock” into “operational exhaustion” as a way of marginalizing and ignoring Vietnam veterans.

I will miss him. I will miss being able to hear his take on the events of the day. We will now not have the chance to hear what the Last Angry Man of comedy has to say about Barack Obama’s bullshit-dripping idealistic self-help stump speeches, or John McCain’s “is-he-effing-kidding??” ressurection of “victory with honor.” We haven’t just lost a comedian, we’ve lost one of the greatest American philosophers of the 20th Century.

I’ve gotta find a mechanism to get these done sooner than two to three days AFTER seeing the movie… though, given the boxoffice, it doesn’t sound like anyone needed ME to tell them not to see this.

Let’s get one thing straight: I LOVED Ang Lee’s “Hulk” for what it was: An art-piece that came closer than almost any other attempt at visualizing the dreamlike pace and offbeat drama of superhero comics. Taken on it’s own merits, including it’s ambitious symbolist themes and Nick Nolte’s brilliant Kinski-esque bad guy turn, I consider it to be a singular pop-art masterwork.

What it ISN’T, however, is an especially compelling narrative. While it fit with Lee’s fresh take on the concept to present a Bruce Banner blown about by the winds of fate who ONLY ever takes charge of his life as The Hulk – it didn’t precisely make for compelling drama and it certainly wasn’t the sort of audience-friendly actioner Marvel was going to want as one of the support-beams of it’s new joint-continuity buildup to “The Avengers.” And so here we have this “reboot” which presents itself more as a sequel to an imagined “more conventional” version of the first one.

Predictably, “The Incredible Hulk” (I’ve always liked the adjective in there to help separate him from all those other Hulks who are merely credible) opts to answer the criticism of Lee’s film as too talky and introspective by charging hard in the opposite direction and being as terse and surface-oriented as it can be without outright becoming a Marvel themed fireworks display: Bruce Banner is on the run, trying to cure himself of the Gamma Poisoning that causes him to morph into Shrek whenever his pulse crests 200. General “Thunderbolt” Ross is chasing him, hoping to weaponize The Hulk, and to that end he injects hardcase soldier Emil Blonsky with WWII-era “super-soldier” chemicals that eventually turn him into an “anti-Hulk” named The Abomination. Ross’s daughter Betty is also Banner’s former girlfriend, and is pretty torn up about the whole thing. That’s about it this time around.

The film takes this fairly bare outline and barrels ahead with it from action scene to action scene, always cohesively but with precious little downtime to deal with characters or expand on the story – though it does find time for a great scene in which we’re reminded of the Hulk’s childlike nature when he get’s into a (literal) shouting-match with a thunderstorm. This straight-on pacing isn’t a major flaw, but it does leave one with the sense that a more complex film has been whittled down to the bare essentials.

When the film DOES take a time-out, it’s usually to drop hints at Marvel’s ambitious plan for a united continuity: Off the top of my head, Doc Samson, Captain America and SHIELD all get direct or indirect nods; and those rumors you heard about Robert Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark showing up for an Avengers-teasing cameo were spot on.

I will say that I’m given to wonder if all this fan-service won’t eventually baffle the larger audience. For example, the secondary plot of the film concerns Banner’s attempts to contact an internet pen-pal who’s helping him research a cure. The film twists itself into a pretzel to keep us from seeing him or knowing his name, and when he turns up it’s just Tim Blake Nelson as a well-meaning mad scientist. Now, fans are going to go apeshit because his name is Samuel Stern whom they all know will be transforming into Hulk uber-enemy The Leader at some point… but I can imagine some audiences will be a little perplexed as to what the point was of all the secrecy. At the very least, there’s enough of a tease as to his probable fate in there to at least give non-fans a basic idea of where he’s going, and Nelson couldn’t be more appropriately cast.

Another thing I like is that they aren’t sheepish about the whole “names” issue: Hulk refers to himself in the third person when he bothers to speak at all, and The Abomination gets handed his new nickname in a manner wholly consistent with the 50s monster movies the Hulk franchise has always emulated. I’ll never understand why, out of all the weirdness there is to grapple with in adapting comics, filmmakers tend to get so hung up on twisting the script around to over-explain why these guys give themselves (or are given) elaborate monikers – Am I the only one who gets the sense that, if your someone who’s gonna get hung-up on the illogic of someone branding himself “The ::Insert Color:: ::Insert Animal::” before embarking on a supervillian career, you probably aren’t going to go see these movies in the first place.

One hopes there’s a longer, more character-driven version waiting on DVD, but at present “The Incredible Hulk” is a welcome actioner and easily the best monster movie to play theatrically since at least “The Host.” You get your giant-rampaging-ogre money’s worth, and as a bonus the promise of all this paying off bigger down the road – seriously, the degree to which this film doubles as a “tease” to both it’s own hoped-for sequels AND the Iron Man and Avengers followups is really kind of amazing. Reccomended.

FINAL RATING: 8/10

Being bored, pissed off at work and generally not up to much reviewing. I did find time, however, to take a shot at doing a review of “Sex and The City” in video form, which appears below. If this works alright I may do some more of these. They’ll be shorter and less analytical than the Game OverThinker bits, by design, but hopefully as much fun to keep doing. Lemme know what you think:

P.S. A review of “Kung Fu Panda” is one entry down, went up about an hour before this one.

Here’s a classic case of form getting in the way of function: “Kung Fu Panda” has a story, script and set of vocal performances that make for an ideal quick, no-frills comedy cartoon. Match those elements with the energetic leaness of Anime or the askew anarchy of the “house styles” of Nickelodeon or the Cartoon Network animated faire and you’d have a nigh-perfect kiddie actioner. Unfortunately, here said elements have been paired with lush, intricate, expensive-looking 3D computer animation… and it just doesn’t really fit. The animation is all gorgeous, and the attention to aping the look of authentic Chinese fantasy/action films is admirable, but it doesn’t really “go with” the light slapstick of the overall peice – the film actually OPENS with a traditionally-animated sequence, and it works better visually than the rest. It’s like getting David Lean to helm a Three Stooges short. It doesn’t really make the movie BAD, just not as “complete” as it might’ve otherwise been.

Set in a version of ancient China populated by anthromorphic animals, it’s the story of Po the Panda (Jack Black) a chubby oaf who works in a noodle shop with his father (James Hong, brilliantly cast as an excitable duck – you read that correctly) but dreams of becoming a martial-artist like The Furious Five; the local superhero team trained to protect the region from danger by Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman.)

The Furious Five include Mantis (Seth Rogen,) Crane (David Cross,) Viper (Lucy Liu,) Monkey (Jackie Chan) and Tigress (Angelina Jolie.) Though Po carries on at some length about their various legendary adventures, we gather they mainly exist to act as a last line of defense against Tai-Lung (Ian McShane) an evil Snow Leopard who has mastered kung-fu on a nearly supernatural level and will destroy the entire land – if necessary – in his quest to steal a sacred scroll from Shifu’s temple. When word comes that Tai-Lung has escaped from prison, the Furious Five assemble (along with the rest of the village) so that the temple elder can annoint one of them The Dragon Warrior – a hero of prophecy who will be given the scroll and become the ultimate weapon against the coming danger. Coincidences (or are they?) conspire, you may have guessed, so that the chosen warrior ends up being none other than Po.

So, yes, it’s a broad send-up of “chosen one” kung fu flicks; with animal-ized versions of all the attendant training montages, epic confrontations and heroic poses. The average six year-old will be able to plot out, beat-for-beat, where it’ll go from the moment Po is “chosen” on (and kung-fu devotees with see most of the dramatic twists coming) along with everyone else. The good news is in the details, specifically the voice-acting. It’s interesting to see Jolie cast – even vocally – as a character who ISN’T defined by sex-appeal for a change, while James Hong is a revelation as Po’s over-eager father. McShane isn’t given enough screentime, but credit the film with making Tai-Lung a 100% full-on heavy who always looks to pose a very tangible threat to the good guys. He doesn’t joke around, has no off-kilter personality quirks, he’s just dangerous. The unquestionable highlights, though, are the scenes where Po good-naturedly bumbles his way through Shifu’s Shaw Brothers style training regimen.

No classic, would be a lot better using different animation, but a lot of fun.

FINAL RATING: 7/10

Review will not spoil the BIG secret of the movie, but you’ve been warned regardless.

The thing about the Indiana Jones movies is, aside from the original “Raiders of The Lost Ark,” none of them have been ‘necessary.’ This isn’t like the “Star Wars” franchise, where each installment adds new information and beats to a continuing larger story – “Raiders” was a complete stand-alone film with nothing left undone or unsaid, and thus ALL the subsequent returns of the character have been essentially superfluous. “Temple of Doom” and “Last Crusade” don’t really have any (major) greater-truths to reveal or broader continuity to flesh out – fine films in their own right they may be – they exist simply because Indiana Jones and his world are fun to revisit.

Keeping that in perspective has been on my mind since it was first announced that Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and Harrison Ford were going back to the character one more time. It’s not so much a lowering of expectations as it is an honest assessment. The now-legendary sense of deflation fans felt as the “Star Wars” prequels unfolded had to do with a genuine drop in quality: The original SW trilogy were both grandly-mounted films and the foundation of one of the great modern pop-cultural mythologies – a standard the prequels simply failed to live up to.

The two (now three) post-“Raiders” Indy movies are of a different breed: They’re romps; big showy collections of action and FX setpieces given a MASSIVE gravitas-injection by their connection to the original film… a summation that applies quite handily to the newest installment. I do suspect, though, that the nearly two-DECADES of wait between the previous sequel and this most-recent one may lead some to be expecting something that they really oughtn’t be – this just isn’t a series that’s going to lend itself to some final “deepening.” What we get from “Crystal Skull” is the same basic thing we got from “Temple” and “Crusade” – a cracking-good adventure flick with some excellent action beats, lifted from good to great by the presence of the iconic elements (hat, whip, snakes, John Williams’ score) from “Raiders.”

It’s actually surprisingly hard to “review” in any great detail WITHOUT getting into spoilers. Since the hype-machine was able to do all it needed to on the simple declaration that a new Indiana Jones movie was coming out, we’ve been spared the usual issue of having the whole movie given away in the trailers. Just describing what the titular Crystal Skull IS or what certain character’s relationships are would qualify as major reveals. Heck, the film’s OPENING SCENE involves the biggest moment of inter-sequel connectivity in the entire series, and segues moments later into a reveal that sends the story off in a direction so profoundly different from anything else in the series it’s rather jarring (honestly, I won’t be surprised if some audiences find how “out there” this installment gets to be just too much for them.)

In any case, the non-spoiler setup goes something like this: It’s now 1957, and Indy has spent the 19 years between finding the Holy Grail and “now” doing vaugely eluded-to military/spy work against The Russians. A few details of said work have garnered him the attention of Irina Spalko (Cate Blanchett, modeling this years hot new look for professional dominatrixes with movie-buff clients) a Soviet agent and self-professed psychic hot on the trail of a legendary Mayan artifact called “The Crystal Skull” in the hope that it can be turned into a powerful “psychic weapon.” Spalko’s harassments eventually put Indy into contact with young greaser Mutt Williams (Shia LeBouf) who was told to get Dr. Jones’ help rescuing his mother and a professor pal of Indy’s (John Hurt) both of who have been kidnapped by the Reds. From there on, Act 2 is combination old/young buddy movie and detective story as Indy and Mutt bond while chasing down clues one step behind Spalko and try to figure out what’s REALLY going on with the Skull.

After that, the MAJOR SPOILERS start up again force and don’t let up – but all you really need to know is that this IS an Indiana Jones movie and thus the third act is a series of extended action/chase scenes followed by a big light-show. The majority of it works tremendously, especially a multi-vehicle race/brawl and an appearance by some nasty insects; while some of it borders on the silly (a cliff-jump gag and a vine-swing scene are a bit much) but it’s never boring and the staging – while a bit too reliant on CGI – is top shelf. Nobody does this stuff like Steven Spielberg, nobody.

Thing is, there’s really no way of telling whether or not this film would be as much fun as it is sans the iconic characters and the music, but that’s not really a functional question. What it boils down to is that the film delivers another big, fun adventure with Indiana Jones. That’s the only standard it needed to meet, and I consider it met. Now go see it so you can find out all the stuff I couldn’t talk about.

FINAL RATING: 7/10

Uh… Wow?

Exclusive: ‘The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor’ Trailer

So… Despite the fact that I unappologetically enjoy the two previous “Mummy” movies, the prospect of doing another one this many years later – Without Arnold Vosloo OR Rachel Weisz or even Patricia Velasquez returning AND the dubious prospect of seeing the great Jet Li and Michelle Yeoh (as the new Chinese version of The Mummy and the new Chinese version of The Person Who Tells Brendan Fraser About The Mummy, respectively) use up what a portion of what time is left of their physically-primed action hero years on a threequel from the director of “The Fast & The Furious” – didn’t exactly have me in an anticipatory mood.

…And then they did this trailer. Not bad at all. Hollywood, quick primer on how to get me to reverse my negatives about an unreleased movie: Rampaging Yeti? Three-headed Dragon?? Yup, that’ll do it. Also of interest – it now appears they’re setting Li’s mummified Chinese Emperor to be the builder of The Great Wall, which would make him (historically) Emperor Qin; i.e. the same figure Li’s character in “Hero” was attempting to assassinate.

With the first of multiple generations for whom merchandise-as-entertainment was fully an unironic, accepted part of youthful days coming to adulthood, reclaimed-nostalgia is BIG business in the world of Hollywood property-aquisition. Comic book superheroes who (mostly) originated in the 60s or earlier now occupy the lavishly-exalted place that Biblical Epics did in the showbiz of yesterday, and kitschy Saturday Morning fair of the 60s, 70s and 80s fill the shoes of popular-fiction adaptation – Stan Lee and Frank Miller as the new Lloyd C. Douglas (“The Robe,”) and Hannah Barberra as the new Daphne DuMaurier. Each new adaptation comes with higher and higher expectations, not just from investors and new audiences but from longtime fans hoping NOT ONLY for the movies to “live up” to the material they cherish but for it to make it as good for them NOW as they remember it being. It’s not just a movie ticket they’re buying, it’s a $10.50 pair of rose-colored glasses to look back on happier times for a little over 90 minutes.

And make no mistake, it’s a gamble: For every “Spider-Man” that successfully translates the spirit of it’s foundation, there’s a “Thunderbirds” that retroactively calls into question the very worth of it’s own progenitor. But how, exactly, is one to approach a nostalgia product for material who’s nostalgiac worth is hugely based on irony – i.e. when the primary reason something is remembered is for NOT being all that good? This is the quandry which was going to face whichever filmmaker(s) finally took the reins of producer Joel Silver’s long-gestating adaptation of “Speed Racer.”

One of the earliest examples of what’s now called Anime (Japanese animation) to make an impact stateside, the original “Speed Racer” was a re-edited, extra-loose translation of “Go Mifune,” a Japanese series that applied a native Manga-nese polish to the then-popular Western-import genre of auto-racing potboilers. As “Speed,” it transfixed American kids of the 60s with it’s crafty, convoluted narrative – at the time only “Jonny Quest” could match it for psuedo-serious cartoon plotting – but gained it’s lasting impact as a post-modern hipster touchstone ironically appreciated for it’s pop-art awkwardness and stilted, poorly-dubbed English dialogue. So, what we’re ultimately looking at here is a literal-adaptation of a mis-translation of a genre-reworking. So it somehow makes since that the final product comes courtesy of the Wachowski’s, who’ve had a similarly strange career trajectory – having gone from the edgy indie lesbian noir “Bound” to the landmark “Matrix” action blockbusters only to land now in the world of the Family Film.

You can call the film they’ve offered up in “Speed Racer” many things, but one word can’t be denied: Visionary. The term need not be a negative or a positive, it’s merely a descriptive indicating how singular, purposeful and personal the work on display appears to be: This is an unrestrained, uncompromised pop-art vision from start to finish, and it doesn’t just feel like the Wachowski’s most self-revealing, inwardly-powered film in almost a decade – it could easily be the most “auteur” blockbuster since “Lord of The Rings.” The Hollywood of the moment – the Hollywood where Christopher Nolan packs Batman movies with Academy Award winners, where Robert Downey Jr. and Nicholas Cage are action heroes and where a “red-hot” screenwriter is sought out to pen “Street Fighter” based on his drafts for “Voltron” and “He-Man” – is one where the traditional barriers between high-art and lowly-commercialism have been dashed to pulp, and “Speed Racer” is The Moment purified: It’s Andy Warhol painting a mural of Sonic the Hedgehog on the walls of the Parthenon.

Unfolding in a universe just slightly too fanciful to be called “futuristic” where, among other oddities, ultra high-tech Auto Racing seems to be the single most popular sporting/cultural event in existence, the narrative is built around simple characters in a complicated world: Speed Racer (Emile Hirsch) is the middle scion of the aptly-named, auto-centric Racer Family. Pops (John Goodman) is the one-man car-building wizard behind The Mach 5, a supercar with which Speed shares a zen-like man/machine bond and the trunk of which is frequently the hiding place of mischievous youngest son Sprittle and pet chimp Chim-Chim, while Mom (Susan Sarandon) keeps the garage humming on a steady supply of home-made pancakes. Also on hand is Trixie (Christina Ricci) Speed’s helicopter-pilot girlfriend.

The whole family-unit revolves around Speed’s career driving the Mach 5 in the hyper-competitive World Racing League, who’s tracks resemble nothing so much as Hot Wheels strips encompassing entire continents. He’s a man on a mission, driving not just for glory but to restore honor to the Racer family name after his beloved older brother Rex perished in a feiry crash amid allegations of shady doings years ago. Speed’s success and the Racers’ adamant refusal to become a corporate-sponsored race team places the family into bitter conflict with Royalton (Roger Hallam) an automotive tycoon who reveals that the WRL is actually a wholly-corrupt front used by robber-barons to manipulate the stock market and promises to make things VERY unpleasant for Speed if he doesn’t play along. At the same time, this gains Speed an ally in the person of enigmatic Racer X (Matthew Fox) a masked, leather-clad vigilante who uses his racing skills to combat corporate crime and who strikes Speed as awfully familiar…

ALL of this, just so you know, is played 100% straight. Save for the slapstick antics of Sprittle and Chim-Chim (who, for the record, are about as annoying as you either imagine or recall) the film takes it’s setting, story, characters and message totally at face value. The visual style – employing a candy-colored rainbow design asthetic, mimickry of Anime-style scene transitions and digitally-tweaked photography that seems to make everything appear in-focus regardless of depth-of-field – and the apparent direction of some actors (Fox and Hallam, in particular) to deliver their lines with the machine-gun statacco of 60s voice-dub actors – indicate that the Wachowskis are more than aware of how ridiculous the original “Speed” was AND their literal translation of it still is, but tonally any condescension is completely muted: A sitcom-perfect 1950s nuclear family team with an activist superhero to help bring down a stock-fixing cartel with by winning auto races… and the whole thing is played with the gravity and matter-of-fact import you usually only find in the third act of a Jesus Movie.

The whole point of the thing is visual insanity: Taking the most surreal conceits of the Wachowski’s belovedly-fetishized Anime fixation and translating them to live-action. Most movies that attempt a kind of universally-unreal construction (think “300” or “Sin City”) make an effort to DEFY reality, but here any such defiance happened before the curtain went up: “Speed Racer” obliterates reality in it’s opening moments and careens ahead without any regard for what “ought to be” plausible: Unlike the excerable “Transformers,” which took a similarly out-there cartoon creation and reduced it to generic dumbass-pandering action piffle, here’s a film that takes the broad strokes of the singularly-loathsome post-“Fast & The Furious” car-fetish genre and turns it into a expressionistic art piece.

At one point, when a Royalton crony vows to “take out” the Racers and the eventual result is a pitched battle between the whole family and a team of Ninjas, by that then it seems like the most logical thing in the world. The cars don’t just race and crash, they FIGHT like extensions of their human pilots: At one point, a driver (who also happens to be a Viking, just for the record) deploys a massive pair of chained-maces and cartwheels his vehicle through the air to swing them; and when Speed hits his zen-master “one-ness” with the Mach-5, the visuals unmistakably call to mind “2001’s” final transformative plunge – “My God… it’s full of Cars!!!”

But beyond the visual assault, what’s perhaps more bizzare is the collision going in the realm of sensibilities. Thematically, the Wachowski’s are still very much in the mode of “The Matrix” or “V For Vendetta” (which they produced) – fists raised, screaming “FIGHT THE POWER!!!” and reveling in the spectacle of The System crumbling at the rise of a messianic hero and his band of Rebel Outsiders. But whereas Neo found prison in the sterile conformity of the ordinary and freedom in the edgy company of leather-clad fetish-club superheroes, Speed’s evil-to-defy is Cynicism Incarnate (“Naive boy! Grow up!” spits Royalton frequently at his young nemesis) and his support-system of free-minded uber-rebels are… well, “The Cleavers,” basically.

It’s a conceit so brazenly out-there it can’t help but be charming. In meshing their peculiar sense of the Heroic Journey with the sincere desire to craft an unironic Family Film, the Wachowski’s have fashioned a world where iconic, almost kitschy tableaus like the Big Family Breakfast or Helpin’ Dad In the Garage are something like the defiant acts of fiercely-independent social rebels – Ozzie & Harriett as Morpheus and Trinity, PB&J and cold milk as the Red Pill and the White Rabbit, Norman Rockwell as Diego Rivera. And, so far as I can tell, it WORKS: Amid the preposterous car-stunts and the convoluted conspiracy story there’s a shockingly old-fashioned family dynamic here that carries a real since of genuine heart. Part of this, admittedly, is casting – could you ASK for a better Archetypal Mom n’ Pop than Susan Sarandon and John Goodman?

All of this, I realize, doesn’t really answer the fundamental question of whether it’s “good” or not. It’s a FASCINATING work of art, that much I can’t find any reasonable dispute for, but it’s definately not going to be something everyone can get their head around or even enjoy AFTER they get their head around it. Speaking only for myself, I found it dazzling, dizzying and occasionally even moving in a corny but affectingly-familiar way. The plain fact of the matter is, the Wachowski’s are here rebuilding the very notions of what an “action movie” OR “family movie” can or should be, and since it so frequently leaps into wholly-new territory it’s hard to really gauge how it’s all “working.” Heck, for all I really know it’s an incredibly-interesting total failure… but I just don’t get that vibe as of right now. I CAN most-definately say that it absolutely needs to be seen, for the one of the best reasons I can think of to see anything: Because you’ve never anything quite like it before. Reccomended.

FINAL RATING: 7/10 (I think.)