Posterized is a column where we (me) make snap judgements about upcoming releases using their movie posters as a guide. Enjoy.



[gulps whiskey, stares meanly out into the middle distance, chokes back a sob]

I don’t want what I’m about to say to be true. Please… believe me… I want to be wrong. So very, very wrong. I want, a year from now, one of you internet rapscallions to hold this post under my nose and burst my eardrums, shouting, “Smell your failure, bloggerman! SMELL IT.”

But… I have to say it… I have to make this prediction because I believe it to be true. I believe… god help my wretched soul… that Intersteller is going to be Christopher Nolan’s first creative and financial fiasco. Now… okay… calm down, everybody… just let me… hey, there’s no need to throw beer bottles… GODDAMNIT, LET ME SPEAK. I can see that several of you are wrapping lengths of chain around your fists, and that a few others are hammering thick nails through Louisville Sluggers… please, before you beat me into something resembling a dropped pizza… hear me out.  Christopher Nolan has had one of the hottest streaks in cinematic history; he literally, to date, has not made a bad movie. Some of you might point to his 2002 film Insomnia, shruggingly, saying, “That one wasn’t so hot.” NO. WRONG. Watch it AGAIN. Insomnia is an underrated little thriller that makes Alaska seem like a frozen hellscape. Granted, the real estate show Buying Alaska does that much more efficiently, and sans a budget-busting Al Pacino, but still (people get so excited when there’s a toilet IN THE HOUSE; it’s super sad).

ANYWAY, Nolan has produced nothing but quality. He’s due for a lead balloon, and, from what I’ve gathered, Intersteller might be it. Details on the plot and whatnot are fuzzy, but it appears that what we have here is a three hour movie about space agriculture. That does not sound promising. What that sounds like, to me, is a simple idea that a committed auteur will follow all the way up his or her own butthole, slapping on layers and layers of astounding visuals until everything looks like a video game and we’re all bored out of our goddamned minds. Does anyone remember Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain? It was a movie about the Fountain of Youth that doubled as an excellent example of why it’s sometimes not always the best call for a director to have complete creative control. There was so much going on in The Fountain… so many IDEAS… that it came out as a shambling, incomprehensible mess. Intersteller feels like Christopher Nolan’s own personal The Fountain. “Yes, we’re starting with an idea about agriculture in space, but we’re also going to be exploring the human spirit, and what it means to be a hero, and also what it means to be a father, and also how we define what is noble, and also mlmop mphhpll mplsblbhm [his words are muffled because he has breached the anus].”

Again… for the record… I DO NOT WANT TO BE RIGHT ABOUT THIS. I just feel like all signs are pointing to Intersteller being completely insufferable. I hate that I feel this way, but nobody ever said writing about movies on a website was going to be easy. Sometimes you have to make the tough calls. Keep this one on your FlopWatch radar until further notice.

Sex Ed


Hey! It’s freaking Haley Joel Osment! Man… and I say this totally without irony or snark or malicious internet bile… it’s good to see that little fucker back on the big screen. Did he do some jail time for, like, drunk driving or something? I think that’s right. I don’t feel like looking it up, mainly because Googling, “Haley Joel Osment arrested” just seems like such a bummer and I don’t need that in my browser history. Besides, we’re celebrating here! That kid from the ghost movie is doing some stuff again. Less adorably so than from back in the day… he’s like a person now, and that person seems to have swelled up a bit… but it’s all good.

Whatever this movie is that he’s in looks kind of like garbage, but, you know… at least he’s working. Remember when he was nominated for an OSCAR? The early 2000’s were a crazy time.

Dracula Untold


You know, just Dracula, pooping some bats. Or he’s made ENTIRELY of bats now? I feel like this movie is going to be playing fast and loose with the Dracula mythology. Kind of like how, as the Superman movies kept churning out, they started giving Superman powers in service of the plot instead of staying within the established cannon. Can Superman turn his “S” logo into a big plastic tarp and use it to subdue bad guys? Sure, why not? Pass the cocaine. THAT AMOUNT OF COCAINE IS TOO SMALL FOR THE CREATORS OF THE SUPERMAN FILM FRANCHISE.

Here is a list of the powers that I imagine Dracula has been granted by the creators of Dracula Untold:

-Dracula can poop bat swarms (jeez, poster… Spoiler Alert!!!)

-Dracula can fly, which IS cannon, but this time around he does it with the sleek, stylish Drac-Jet 3000, which is heavily emblazoned with the Red Bull logo

-Nothing says a modern Dracula like laser-beam eyes!

-He knows all sorts of like Kung Fu and Krav Maga shit, and also he can run up trees like in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

-Supersonic yodel.

-Dracula can turn wooden stakes into TALKING wooden stakes that are sassy, as we need something off of which to base a line of toys. Christmas is coming!

-Breathes fire, stomps buildings flat, is Godzilla.

-He can make quarters disappear, then reappear behind the female lead’s ear.

-Dracula can turn the “D” logo on his chest into a big plastic tarp that he can use to subdue bad guys.

-He can do the “Batdance.”


Jersey Boys


I have no particular beef with Jersey Boys, the Broadway show OR the upcoming movie. Though I generally enjoy musicals, this is maybe not the one I’m the MOST excited about… I never really felt there needed to be an all-singing, all-dancing version of Goodfellas, and yet here we are… but whatever. People seem to enjoy it. Especially old people. Which is FINE. They need movies too. It can’t all be found-footage horror and Lego-based shenanigans and the sexy supernatural teens that the kids sure seem to like. In the waning years of your life, sometimes you just want to watch a NICE story about some NICE boys from the East Coast escaping a life of crime through the miracle of song. And then you want a hot mug of Ovaltine, some evening news, and then maybe a little bit of fetish porn, because you’re not dead yet, DAMMIT!!!

My only issue with this whole enterprise really is the poster. SO CHEESY. “We’re just doo-wopping undah the streetlights, ma! 1950’s-ing it up, that’s what we’ah doin’!!! I’ve got my hip cocked, so you know I’m the trouble makah!”

Just a huge bowl of melted Velveeta, this poster. But… again… whatever. I’m sure this movie is going to make a lot of people very happy, despite it not containing a carnivorous plant monster with the voice of Levi Stubbs, or a Dolly Parton-run, Texas-based whorehouse, or a bunch of murderous women in prison and slinky flapper gear. But we all want different things from our musicals, I suppose.

As Above, So Below


This movie looks straight-up terrifying. I’m not going to link to the trailer or anything, because the trailer is maybe a touch too spoiler-y and I don’t want to enable your constant need to ruin surprises for yourself… I mean, maybe THAT is a reason why you’re so unhappy all the time. Ever think about that? You never just sit back and let things happen… you never just ENJOY. “Oooh, let’s look at these set photos from Avengers: Age of Ultron! Maybe I can decipher some plot points from a grainy shot of Robert Downey Jr. drinking a cup of coffee while standing near a car! IS THOR IN THAT CAR OR POSSIBLY DARTH VADER??? Star Wars/Avengers crossover, y’all! NAILED IT!!!”

Anyway, the trailer is out there, if that’s the kind of life you want to lead. You could also just trust me, and trust this weird, monochromatic poster full of upside-down French things and skulls (also presumably French).

Now, I will say that there’s a chance… a CHANCE… that this movie only looks terrifying to me because it appears that the majority of the story takes places in dark, small spaces. I do not like dark, small places. Some would say that I am claustrophobic; I would say that the rest of the world is not claustrophobic ENOUGH. Having lots of space around you is, last time I checked, a good thing. People are always climbing into caves and running around in tunnels and GETTING IN SUBMARINES, oh my god, I would have to dig out parts of my brain with a grapefruit spoon if I ever found myself in a submarine. Fuck that.

Oh, but anyway, this movie is about “urban archeologists” [jerk-off motion] who go exploring for treasure [other hand joins in the jerk-off motion] deep within in the Paris Catacombs [hands stop making jerk-off motion, and instead cover mouth to stifle a girlish scream]. Once they’re all up in that claustrophobic death trap, they get menaced by… I don’t know… Gallic ghosts, or some shit. Who cares. The scary part is the endless miles of catacombs and how once you’re in there… a long, ways away from the surface lights… you’re probably never going to breath fresh air again. You’re going to die, afraid, so very alone, and in the darkest dark you’ve ever known. And no one will ever find you.

Great, I just fear-peed all over my laptop.



Well, this is just a mess.

I encourage you click on the poster for a larger version.

Did you click on it? Does it feel like your eyes have been misted with vinegar? Did you get that icepick pain right behind your eyeballs, like you just took too hard a pull of a delicious cherry-flavored Slurpee?

I’m sorry I did that to you. That was mean. But you needed to see what I had seen, and I do not regret sending you out into the path of the sniper’s bullet (metaphorically speaking). Because now you KNOW. You’ve seen some shit, man. Literally, you’ve seen what might be the shittiest poster ever created with limited Photoshop skills and no sense of decency or good taste.

I’ve been forcing this poster on other people, too. I took a giant copy of the poster for Blended, an actual movie that real people spent a lot of money to make, out into the streets. I showed this poster to the masses in an effort to gauge what kind of reaction awaits Blended on its opening day. Herewith, the responses:

“What kind of God would allow something like this to happen?” Harold P., age 37

“I just realized that I have never loved my wife. So many wasted years…” Ezra L., age 76

“I was eating a cheeseburger when you showed me the movie poster for Blended, and now the cheeseburger literally has no taste at all. I can tell that it’s still warm, but the flavor has completely drained away. It actually has taken on a grayish pallor, too. That is very upsetting.” Ellen S., age 17

“If you come near me with that thing again, I will snuff out your life with as little thought or care as I would give to blowing out a candle. You are a monster. THEY… [points at poster, veins distending on neck]… THEY ARE ALL MONSTERS.” Hugh B., age 24

“Drew Barrymore is still ALIVE? No… that’s not possible… this poster is a sick joke, mocking the deceased. You’ve got a LOT of nerve, buddy.” Jenny C., age 45

“I’d probably rent that, but I wouldn’t pay movie theater prices to see it.” Steven D., age 32 [it should be noted that when I approached Steven D., he was wearing nothing but an extremely ill-fitting, faded Strawberry Shortcake babydoll t-shirt and some orthopedic running shoes, and was in the middle of diarrhea-ing into an open dumpster]

Warner Bros., you have my permission to use any of these quotes in any future advertisements for Blended.


Posterized is a column where we (me) make snap judgements about upcoming releases using their movie posters as a guide. Enjoy.

Into The Storm


Sometimes, nature gets mad at us. With good reason, of course… we generally treat the planet we live on like frat guys treat an old couch. We beat it all to hell, we dump our shit (sometimes our literal shit) all over it, and then we’re like, “whatever Couch Earth, you smell bad, let’s get wasted on grain alcohol pizza drugs! WE ARE YOUTH!!!”

So, because we as a people are generally thoughtless assheads, the Earth occasionally tries to kill us all. Sometimes with tsunamis, sometimes with Lava Monsters (oh, they’re real), but sometimes… when the Earth is REALLY fucking cheesed at us… it will try to kill us with tornadoes. Tornadoes are terrifying. They are literally the manifestation of the concept of “destruction.” Maybe I’m just sensitive to their particular brand of horror because I grew up in a part of the world that is usually besieged by tornadoes every Spring, but they are, to me, the epitome of nature’s righteous hate. I pee a little when I hear a tornado siren, but don’t tell anyone I told you that.

Despite there literally being nothing scarier than a tornado… literally NOTHING, fuck your clowns and snakes and serial killers… MOVIES about tornadoes are a decidedly mixed bag. It’s no easy thing to capture that almighty fury. Twister did an okay job… probably the best out there… but it also took some pretty serious liberties with science all in the name of making Helen Hunt do her squinty Drama Face. I love that movie, don’t get me wrong. It’s just kind of brain-damaged. Plus there’s an “evil” storm chaser. C’mon.

ANYWAY, Into The Storm is about tornadoes. I guess it’s a found-footage movie? The trailer makes it look kind of okay. It appears that they’re treating tornadoes like they’re wind-based Godzillas, which is ENTIRELY ACCURATE. So good job, filmmakers!



I don’t think I really “get” Angelina Jolie. I’ve enjoyed her presence in exactly ONE movie (that would be Hackers), and even in Girl, Interrupted, for which she won an Oscar, I’m not entirely sure she was aware she was being filmed for a film. Frankly, she has always seemed to me like an insane person who was lucky enough to be considered attractive by a large portion of the planet’s population, so… CONGRATS, HERE’S YOUR FAME. That’s the other thing; her looks. I’ll admit that she’s striking, but… and I guess this is just a testament to how the varied tapestry of human opinion is a multifaceted and wondrously unquantifiable thing… I don’t really find her all that attractive. For one thing, crazy is just such a weenie-shrinker for me. I’m not 21 anyone more. Crazy isn’t exotic. It’s exhausting. LET’S ADOPT MORE KIDS, AND HERE WEAR MY BLOOD!!! Please, lady… I have to work in the morning. Also, I don’t really require of the opposite sex cheekbones that could thinly slice beef.

NOW… with all that being said… I have to admit that there has quite possibly never been a more perfect Actor/Role match up than Angelina Jolie and Maleficent. Look at that fucking poster? She IS Maleficent. You could even say that this is the role Jolie was born to play, especially if you believe my admittedly-unproven theory that she is actually an Evil Queen in real life. Her on-set trailer was littered with cursed spinning wheels and poisoned apples anyway, so they might as well make a fucking movie about it.

Side Note: How close to the release of Maleficent will our nation’s fetish shops and sex toy emporiums start stocking movie tie-in latex and rubber bondage gear? I expect replicas of that horned headdress thingy to be atop the noggins of many a kinky weirdo within in a week of Maleficent hitting theaters.

The Other Woman


This is a poster for a movie about… well, who gives a shit? It’s a movie poster that is made up almost entirely of Emoji. THAT’S all you need to know about The Other Woman. 20th Century Fox had all the advertising options available to them, and they went with Emoji.

So… I mean… what else is there to say? You can sit there at your computer, and you can read all my extremely obvious thoughts about how massively insulting this is, and about how it’s one of the most patronizing marketing moves I’ve EVER seen from a major motion picture studio, and how simply LOOKING at this poster is like rubbing crumpled tinfoil across your eyes until your vision is permanently warped and whitish goo is leaking from your pupils, OR… OR… you can just watch this video of a Panda doing “The Nae Nae:”

Watch it a few times right in a row. See… that’s such a better use of our time! And… BONUS… it’s not a thing made of fucking Emojis!

We got through this one together, guys. We’re forever bonded, like war veterans. EXACTLY LIKE WAR VETERANS, don’t sass me. I can see it in your face, mister and/or missy. You got a sassy face.


Posterized is a column where we (me) make snap judgements about upcoming releases using their movie posters as a guide. Enjoy.

Transformers: Age of Extinction


Right out of the gate, fuck this movie poster for looking like concept art that Spielberg ditched from the last Indiana Jones movie. The one about aliens and refrigerators and making the hopeful child that lives tucked behind my heart take its own life by strangling itself with my superior vena cava. That’s the one I’m talking about. No one needs to be reminded of how that movie soaked our collective goodwill for a beloved series in hydrochloric acid and walked away, trailing money, laughing like a demon. It hurt then and it still hurts now. Fucking crystal skull swinging monkey Marion doesn’t even LOOK like Marion anymore bullshit.

But anyway, a new Transformers. Okay. I mean… you know… I like blow-uppity movies. Robots crashing around, whatever, you know? I’ll see that. Partly out of a duty to that dead, inner child and what he would have wanted, but mostly because, fuck it. Why fight it? I think this one has dinosaur robots in it… that’s pretty okay. Just take my money. Let me stare through 3D glasses at it and then go home, OKAY? Let’s not do this. Let’s not make this worse.

The Mule


What, awesome, and gross… in that order. Despite the intestines looking very much like the mood slime in Dana Barrett’s bathtub moments before the attack, viewing this poster is like popping the corneas out of your eyes with a pocket knife and jamming diamonds into the wounds. Suddenly, you are seeing something flawless… something valuable… something rare. It’s all you CAN see. This  poster is a picture about a movie that explains said movie PERFECTLY without giving anything away.

In today’s world of one-sheets designed by salesmen and run mercilessly through the Photoshop sawmill, the poster for The Mule is a singularly pure design, executed like a goddamn major league triple play. BANG BANG BANG… we’re done here, and everyone is standing around, mouths opening, thinking, “what the fuck am I doing back in the dugout already???”

The Grand Budapest Hotel


I like Wes Anderson movies, but I don’t love Wes Anderson movies. This is very similar to how I am not a “car guy,” but I do like having a car and being able to drive myself places. “Car guys” want cars that are PERFECT. Every line and angle of the body, every piece of mechanics hidden behind the panels and wheels and glass, everything. It all has to look JUST SO, and run JUST SO, and be orgasmically on-point.

On the other hand… while I appreciate that sleek piece of automotive pornography… I’m JUST FINE with having a car that looks like it was recently salvaged by the trash-removal crew from Hoarders. The interesting and non-standard stains give it character; the collected crud under the emergency break conceals breathtaking archeological secrets. French fries ground into the floor mat? THAT MEANS I HAVE LIVED, DAMMIT.

Wes Anderson movies are fancy, but also too fussy, is what I’m saying.

Stage Fright


This is a slasher movie set at a musical theater summer camp.

If you do not know me personally, you should know that I spent the majority of my summers as a child/pre-teen/teenager at musical theater camps, learning songs and dances from shows like Lil’ Abner, 42nd Street, and Hello, Dolly!

You should also know that, in between the tech rehearsals and the cast parties and the spotlight-drenched dreams of being a chubby-but-I’m-sure-everyone-will-be-okay-with-that Broadway star, I watched every single slasher movie (as well as every OTHER kind of horror movie) my local video store had in stock.

SO… it stands to reason that… as I lay asleep at night… my brain has been sneaking out of my skull and penning a screenplay about all the things that make up its swirling, dorkish subconscious. Which I think is just great. I don’t even care if Stage Fright sucks. My brain wrote it, and I’ll love it because it tried so hard to make me happy.

The poster, by the way, looks like something featured on a giant clamshell case, propped up on the shelf by it’s own VHS, untouched on a 1994 video store Saturday night. Needless to say, I want to get a tattoo of it that takes up my entire torso.



I am very excited about the new Godzilla. BEYOND excited. I want to throw my blood at this movie; mark it as mine, so no one else will want to see it. I want to ram a video cassette of the new Godzilla into my chest cavity like James Woods in Videodrome. IT’S GODZILLA VERSUS FUCKING HEISENBERG, FOR SWEET, TENDER FUCKS SAKE. If that doesn’t make your pop culture needle slam into the red as if the radiation clouds were swallowing us whole, then… brother… sister… what do you DO in your flavorless, gray, mushworld? Do you just sip tepid water in a wooden chair near a wall? Do you only focus on work and eat healthy and go to bed at nine o’clock, whether you’re tired or not?



Movies like this are why movie lovers love movies. Get fucking excited.




Yuck. I mean… unless this movie is about a little dude that lives in your face and likes to play peek-a-boo. Then I guess this is some pretty accurate poster art. Maybe a little TOO accurate. Ya gotta tease us, Intern Who Knows Photoshop! However, I’m guessing this poster is more of a “metaphor.” It’s hard to type that word, by the way, while also rolling my eyes and making jerk-off motions with both hands.

“It’s, like, showing that there’s a force keeping her from seeing… you know… stuff,” said the graphic designer, his nostrils rimmed like a margarita glass with low-quality cocaine. And the studios let it get to the distribution stage because, fuck it, maybe it’s creepy enough to get people talking? Maybe we can drum up some business for… what’s it called… DAMMIT, we should have stuck with Peek-A-Boo: The Movie! That was GOLD!!! [studio exec drowns his sorrows with a cocaine martini] [my understanding of Hollywood’s cocaine culture may not be entirely accurate, and, in fact may be based on a dream I had one time]

Anyway, I should point out that I in fact WOULD see this movie if the above poster creature is actually in the film. Especially if, when the hands are removed, it looks like this.

Under The Skin


This movie is Species. Like, literally. It’s the same plot as Species. Here, watch the trailer. See? Species. I mean, don’t get me wrong… it looks pretty awesome. Chilly and creepy, and I generally have no beef with Scarlett Johansson, so you know… whatever. But let’s not sleep on the fact that this is basically Species, a movie that I loved when I was 15 because of all the hot, alien boob.

Oh yeah, and the poster is fine. Johansson kind of looks like Aladdin Sane-era David Bowie, but maybe that’s what they were going for? Like a wink and a nod to The Man Who Fell To Earth, because aliens? I don’t know. The analytical part of my brain is being overridden by the spicy parts from Species right now. Boobs. Space boobs.

Love & Air Sex


This is the synopsis from their IMDB page:

When brokenhearted Stan flies to Austin for the weekend in hopes of “accidentally” running into his ex-girlfriend Cathy, he arrives to find their best friends Jeff and Kara in the middle of their own vicious breakup. Before too long, battle lines are drawn – and with the Air Sex World Championships in town, anything can go down.

Okay, so… the Air Sex World Championship is a real thing. And yes, it is EXACTLY as shitty as you’re imagining it to be. The Air Sex World Championship is literally people on a stage, pretending to have sex with a non-existent partner, set to music. I know, dude… I KNOW.  Back when I lived in Austin, I went to a performance of Air Sex (does that sentence even make sense?). Even though I was blind drunk at the time, and theoretically young and dumb enough to appreciate that kind of horseshit, I was appalled at how tragically try-hard it all seemed. Also, I distinctly remember that the whole auditorium smelled like dirty crotch, although that could just have been a byproduct of the event taking place in Austin.

At any rate, there’s a movie about that now, should you be interested in watching hipster shitheads pelvic thrust at you in service to a truly stupid-sounding plot. I’m sure it’s probably not any worse than, say, being beaten senseless with a brick. On the other hand, being beaten senseless with a brick doesn’t involve watching people fingerbang a ghost, but “just kidding.”

Need For Speed


I like that they’re using the official Days of Thunder color palate as a nod to other movies where people drive really fast. That’s a solid “respect your elders” move, and it sort of makes me feel better about this whole “Aaron Paul: Action Star” thing that I still find REALLY disconcerting.

It’s not that I don’t WANT him to branch out, try new things, etc… it’s just that I never want him to be anyone other than Jesse Pinkman. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

Fifty Shades of Grey


An acquaintance of mine once told me, regarding the book Fifty Shades of Grey, “It was really amazingly erotic! As soon as I was done, I gave it to my mom!”

I have never read the “Shades of Grey” series. However, using the above statement as a guide… as well as a LOT of similar statements by people who should know better… I have gathered that they are the first works of commercially available pornography that are fun to share with your parents. And soon, there will be movie versions of them. Movies you can go see with your whole family, if you like. Be sure to give your mom’s elbow a knowing nudge when the part about anal happens.

RELATED: the world is officially gross.