Dog days potpourri

No dogs will be mentioned in this post, but it does feel like the dog days of summer here, with lots of sun, very little rain, and humid days with highs between 85 and 90. That means lots of time spent at home in the living room with the TV on (Who am I kidding? We don't need the excuse of dog days to stay at home and be couch potatoes).

Watched First Snow, a movie recommended by a couple of friends. Guy Pearce is a slimy flooring salesman (he's slimy, not the flooring, as far as I can tell) who runs into a fortune teller (J.K. Simmons, at right) who gets a few wild predictions right. When Pearce hunts him down again, Simmons implies that Pearce won't live long, but has until the first snow. First, Pearce goes a little nutty--he's got problems with a live-in gf, a pal who he screwed in a business deal, and a long-lost partner in crime who may be back to get revenge over a perceived betrayal. Then, on Simmons' advice, he decides to use what little time he may have to set things right with the world. What had been building into a tough little neo-noir becomes an episode of My Name Is Earl. This film could have used a strong stylist at the helm (at times, it reminded me of the Coen Brothers' Blood Simple, but with little sense of style) and a better script. As it is, I didn't care about any of the characters, least of all Pearce. But Simmons is a joy to watch, as always; he's one of those character actors who may never get an Oscar, but will almost always be the best thing in any movie he's in.

Watched Night of the Comet, an 80's sci-fi zombie comedy of which my partner Don had fond memories. It wasn't bad, though it's most fun as an 80's period piece. A comet sweeps past the earth, killing most of the population by turning them to red dust (yes, there's a poster for the great Gable/Harlow flick Red Dust in the background of a scene). Anyone who was protected by steel was saved, and a good chunk of folks, apparently stuck somewhere in between, are being turned into George Romero zombies. I was expecting a flat-out comedy, and, though it has its parodic elements, it plays out more like Romero-lite. Favorite line, no contest: teen girl to her miserable single mom about a jerk she's dating, "You were born with an asshole, Doris, you don't need Chuck!"

Coming soon: Larry Sanders, Wii sports, campy muscle movies, and the skull of the Marquis de Sade!!