“I’m from the future. Go to China.”
note: I tried very hard to stay spoiler-free, but it’s hard to do that with a movie like this
Speaking from experience, both personal and via the hundreds of pieces of media I’ve consumed, there comes a very special time in a young man’s life when he tells an older, wiser, and more versed person to go to Hell.
It doesn’t matter what this person says, knows, or has lived, the young man is sure that whatever that person is telling him isn’t true.
“You don’t know.”
“What happened to you won’t happen to me.”
“It does not matter. It will not, ever, happen to me like it happened to you.”
These young men are wrong, of course. Most of the time it’s chalked up to universal truths that must leave their mark. These are lessons that can’t be taught; they must be felt. These are the mistakes that are made when youthful exuberance meets ignorance.
And there is no force on Earth, not even time travel, not even a future version of you who has literally made every choice you want to, telling you, to your face, that there is a better way.
This is one of the two major thematic elements of Looper, and this narrative thread is begun with a fantastic scene, glimpsed for a few seconds in the trailer, of Bruce Willis and Joseph Gordon-Levitt having a sit down to discuss just what is going on; what is going to happen, and what the other guy plans to do about it. Read the rest of this entry
Holy hell, how long’s it been since I posted something on here? Like, eight years? Man, that is a lot of years.
What follows is a review of Dredd
It’s a long one, because I am a terrible, terrible, terrible editor.
TL;DR Rating – I loved it.
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Holy shit, where did May go? I did not write nearly as much as I had planned for ACTION MOVIE MAY.
Well, fuck it, we’re getting at least one more Bay up this piece.
It’s no secret that I am the undisputed King of Summer. Every other year like a ripped out, sun-kissed, charmingly stubbled Santa Claus, I come down the chimney of Spring to drop my precious, precious payload of adrenarone (when adrenaline knocks up testosterone) onto your eyes, into your brain, and then to your chest where it replaces your heart.
The only other person who makes as much money in the summer is Will Smith, and he works for me anyway. Shit, he’s sat out the last four years, probably because he was waiting for me to hit him back up after his movie about giving people his livers got no one off. It seems like only yesterday when we made a movie where the Miami PD invaded a sovereign nation, blew it up, and drove an H3 through a shanty town as the most personal “fuck you” on the entire planet.
Goddamn it, I miss that guy.
When I’m not busy changing the entire game with blockbuster after blockbuster, I usually go to Thailand and hunt people, but Thailand’s slowly getting it’s shit together so I’m going to wait and see which way the wind blows in the next couple of years down that way.
For now, I’m going to start hiring myself out to productions so those summers I don’t have something out my presence will still be felt, and the unwashed masses will have something to do besides soil themselves in and around Wal-Marts.
Like drugs, sex, and cases of .50 cal., the first one’s free, so I’m going to break down all the important releases this summer to give the studios a taste of what I can do with no rules and 15 minutes to kill. Read the rest of this entry
Sometimes movies fall through the cracks. Bad press, confusing trailers, not enough money for a super-wide release, behind the scenes politicking at studios, money not coming through, etc, there are a myriad of reasons for movies to not get the eyes on them that they so richly deserve.
That’s where Nonstop Karate comes in: we give movies that deserve a wider audience for whatever reason: they’re actually good; it’s so bad it must be seen to be believed; a great actor’s early work; here there be ‘splosions, etc.
And we’re back. I’d like to thank Nicholas G. Allen for filling in for me last week. As much as I love ACTION MOVIE MAY and as hard as it may be to believe, writing from the POV of Michael Bay and short stories about me take a lot of work, and I have…you see…I, uh…
Sorry. I just realized that the two most-read works of mine are Michael Bay fan fiction and Matt Loman fan fiction.
Wow. Give me a second.
Okay, I’m good.
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by Michael Bay
You thought we were done?
You thought I was finished?
WE WILL NEVER BE DONE. I WILL NEVER FINISH.
I had to lie low, and take it easy when Sheen took the crazy train for a spin around the this great nation of ours to the thunderous applause of NO ONE. He said the craziest, most coked-out shit I’ve ever heard outside of a private estate, elite country club, or bar they don’t let the unimportant people into, but here’s the thing, Charlie, the insanity must be a symptom of greatness, not the cause. Read the rest of this entry
LOS ANGELES – Near the Corner of Hollywood and Highland
Moaning, it’s entire being ignited with hunger, the zombie lurched forward. Covered in the tattered rags of couture fashion, any semblance of higher function or affinity for clothing were gone. It’s goal hissed between broken teeth and chewed off lips, “braaaaaiiiiinnnssss.” The chilling call was echoed in the still night air. Read the rest of this entry
That was ‘Thunderstruck’ by AC/DC to help get you warmed up for my favorite month of blogging that kicks off my favorite month of movie going:
ACTION MOVIE MAY.
Fuck it, we’re playing another song.
Yes. Now we are appropriately jacked up to do some damage.
For those of you not familiar with the “Matt Loman Experience,” here’s how I do: every year during the month of May all of my posts are even more obnoxious, egotistical, and catering to the lowest common denominator than usual because they are all in glorious service to the summer movie selection: ACTION MOVIES. There will be action movie classic reviews, several Michael Bay appearances, essays on the unsung heroes of the genre, and short stories starring me that are at this point an oft horrifying, consistently creepy insight into what goes on behind my beady little eyes.
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