movie review: Tropic Thunder

Ben Stiller has spoken: white guys in fat suits dancing to hip-hop are funny. Following the end credits of the 2004 Stiller vehicle Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story, the actor sits shirtless in a grotesque fat suit singing “Milkshake,” a then-popular tune by the sultry singer Kelis. For his latest comedy, Tropic Thunder, Stiller hands the reigns to Tom Cruise, whose career has sunk so low that he dons a bald cap and fat suit to play a malicious movie exec named Les Grossman (he just might be Jewish) who constantly screams obscenities, and yes, dances to hip-hop in the film’s stirring finale. More miraculous is that for Cruise, this actually constitutes damage control.

Tropic Thunder is a better film that Dodgeball, mainly because of Robert Downey Jr.’s performance as Kirk Lazarus, a method actor who has undergone a pigment darkening surgery in order to portray a black man in the movie within the movie, also called Tropic Thunder. An action star (Ben Stiller), a comedian (Jack Black), and a rapper (Brandon T. Jackson) round out the cast, and Tropic Thunder follows their follies as they attempt to shoot an epic war film deep in the jungle.

Few actors could get away with wearing blackface through the whole of a major Hollywood movie, but if it’s anyone, it’s Downey Jr., who steals all his scenes and throws all his chops into creating a dedicated, misguided, and overextended thespian. Less interesting is watching a limited actor portray a talentless one, as is the case with Stiller and the action hero he plays, Tugg Speedman, a variation on the arrogant but well-meaning idiot he perfected in Zoolander. Downey Jr. also brings a low-key sense of humor to the film, which, aurally and visually, subscribes to the everything-louder-than- everything-else aesthetic.

The worst culprit in this regard is Jack Black, wasted here, who plays comedian Jeff Portnoy and is given little to do but scream “Yeah!” Black’s best scene is his first, a mock trailer for a Portnoy film called The Fatties: Fart 2, in which he wears (you guessed it) fat suits and plays a farting family in a spoof of crap like Eddie Murphy’s Nutty Professor sequel, The Klumps. Danny McBride, as a raucous redneck in the film crew, is also responsible for a lot of shouting; it’s debatable whether exclaiming “Big ass titties!” before detonating a bomb qualifies as comedy (though I found it hilarious).

The film has generated a great deal of hype, both good and bad, due to Downey Jr.’s character, and its treatment of “retards” (more unfunny than offensive), and its supposedly scathing indictment of the film industry. With regards to the final point, Tropic Thunder does have some good laughs at Hollywood’s expense, as in the mock trailers which open the film, and the clever entertainment news segments which dote endlessly on moronic actors. Matthew McConaughey, amiable as always, plays an agent (also a moron) responsible for managing prima donna movie star Tugg Speedman. And then, of course, there’s Cruise, whose Grossman represents all that’s immoral in Hollywood, like Ari Gold with none of the heart. But the satire is all surface deep. Ultimately, Cruise is just playing a fat guy that dances to hip-hop, and one can hardly think that would rile too many folks in the film industry.

game review: Grand Theft Auto IV

In Grand Theft Auto IV, the long-awaited new chapter in the wildly popular franchise from Rockstar Games, the player takes control of Niko Bellic, a sardonic badass and Serbian immigrant who steps off the boat and immediately becomes entangled in the criminal underworld of Liberty City. Niko, brilliantly voiced by Michael Hollick, is about as charming as stone cold killers come; his "What, me worry?" attitude and low-key sense of humor help him navigate the city's web of drug dealers and other sordid gangsters (as well as the dating scene) with ease.

As great as Niko is, though, he's never the star of the game. That honor is reserved for the city itself, Liberty, which is really an undisguised New York, and which is as close as a console game has ever come to a living, breathing, modern metropolis. In keeping with the game's tone, this New York is always presented with some degree of derision (Times Square, here called Star Junction, is "A great place to go if you love advertising" reads the guidebook, i.e. instruction manual). But the superb attention to detail--from the Cyclone at Coney Island, to the Unisphere at the old World's Fair grounds, to the Metropolitan Opera House--betrays a great deal of affection from the game's designers, as well.

There are literally hours of pleasure to be derived from driving around the city's four boroughs (Staten Island is omitted; instead we get a portion of suburban New Jersey) in search of your favorite landmarks. But the virtual world within Liberty, the media inside the game, is even more compelling.

Star Junction.

Back at Niko's apartment, you can watch television--for quite a long time. Choose from programming like "I'm Rich," a spoof of shows like VH1's "The Fabulous Life Of..." which is much more entertaining (and raw--apparently there's no FCC in this world) than its source material; an hysterical documentary on the history of Liberty City; and a cartoon called "Republican Space Rangers," which takes our nation's war on terror (the game's greatest source of comedic material) to other galaxies. When the shows pause for commercials, you'll see ads for the same mock products being hawked on billboards out in the street.

Hop online at an internet cafe and you can send emails that open up new missions and further your progress in the game. Stay online and surf through the boatloads of content that exist only because (1) they are hilarious, and (2) because the game creators went above and beyond with just about everything in GTA IV. Kill the head honcho at a high-profile law firm, and shortly thereafter you'll find a story about the murder on the Liberty Tree newspaper's website. Or check out one of the dozens of other sites, like CrapList.net (read: Craig's List), "an online forum where users can sell stolen bicycles and meet up at lunch to give each other head" (Thankfully you can't do either of those things in the game). In many ways, this is what GTA IV is all about: scathing, pointed satire mixed with sophomoric vulgarity.

The radio commercials and talk stations, which lampoon everything from reality T.V. ("Waning With The Stars") to Axe Body Spray, work in much the same way. While listening to the news, you'll hear updates which reflect the world around you, like bridge openings or closings, for example. The music stations introduce another impressive element. While driving through Liberty City, you can tune to stations (most feature between 10 and 20 songs apiece) dedicated to genres including funk, jazz, Latin, dancehall, hip-hop, indie rock, R&B, hardcore punk--even a station that exclusively plays Bob Marley and the Wailers (with one Stephen Marley track thrown in for good measure). It's an incredible cross-section of American and international popular (and not so popular) music.

Just don't call him Russian.

The true meat of the gameplay has not changed drastically from previous installments. As far as the missions go, one of the amusing caricatures for whom you work (the steroid nut, the Rasta) generally assigns you with the task of driving (or perhaps taking the subway) to a specific place in the sprawling city to pick up goods, or drop them off, or spy on someone. Regardless of what it is, you usually have to kill a guy, or lots of guys. The use of a cell phone for calling, texting, and even picture messaging (all essential, at times, in completing your tasks) is quite clever. Still, it feels pretty much the same as it did in the past few GTAs, only better: a better weapon aiming system, more nuanced assignments, and far superior graphics.

Powering through the missions and advancing the plot (Niko's backstory and his true motivations are gradually revealed) is great--when you feel like it. And that's always been the beauty of the Grand Theft Auto games: now more than ever, you play however you want. Don't feel like running guns for a thug? Snag a cop car, access the police computer, and hunt down criminals, vigilante style. Not in the mood for (that kind of) action? Hit up a strip club and get a lap dance. Hunt for ramps in deserted back alleys; rev up your engine and try a death defying jump. Try online dating. Go bowling with one of your homeboys, or hit up a pool hall, or throw darts at a dive bar. Or maybe just kick back at the crib and watch some television.

Thank God for Mickey's

It would be an understatement to say that our nation has hit a rough patch. From soaring gas prices, to the war in Iraq, to the subprime mortgage whatever, the U.S. of A is embroiled in tumultuous times. As the Dems continue to undercut themselves in an ugly, endless primary, and the Mets sleepwalk through game after game, the ruthless New York media censuring them at every turn, one thing is clear--it's time for some unity.

Enter the Golden Arches. Enter the Southern Style Chicken Sandwich.

Finally, something we can all agree upon. The debut of a new McDonald's sandwich is a major cultural event that may someday achieve federal holiday status. This particular sandwich is especially laudable, bringing together as it does the North and South in an act of true American solidarity. Moreover, the Southern Style Chicken Sandwich will rock your socks off, regardless of your gender, race, class or political affiliation. Let me break it down for you: juicy-ass white meat chicken, topped with--oh yes--butter and pickles. That's right--butter and pickles. And as if that wasn't enough, Mickey's has also introduced the Southern Style Chicken Biscuit for those ambitious enough to be up and out of the house before 10:30a.m. Hallelujah.

Thank you, Mickey's. Thank you for doing your part to help right the ship in these trying times. Thank you for providing a beacon of light and a moment of respite, however fleeting, during these days of turmoil. Thanks for giving us kickass chicken sandwiches. With butter. And pickles.

game review: Army of Two (Xbox 360)

The most fun I had with Army of Two was playing air guitar. No, this isn't the next Rock Band or Guitar Hero. It's a third-person shooter much like the 2006 Xbox 360 hit Gears of War. But whereas Gears of War pitted you against grotesque aliens, Army of Two strives for a more realistic experience--kind of. So a friend and I, playing on a split-screen, were leading our characters, a couple of beefy American mercenaries, through the caves of an Afghan mountain range shortly after 9/11. We were dispatching suicide bombers and other Al-Qaeda operatives with our AK-47s and hand grenades when there came a break in the action. We looked around. It seemed as though we'd slain all the terrorists in the vicinity. Before continuing on to the next arena, my friend positioned his soldier next to mine and hit the "A" button. They exchanged high fives. He pressed it again and they gave each other a pound. "Props all around," they said casually. When he pressed it a third time, I stared in disbelief as the two bloodied combatants went into full on Bill and Ted mode, headbanging, singing power chords, and yes, playing air guitar. In the middle of a cave. In Afghanistan. My friend and I shared a good laugh over this, and then we descended further into the dark cavern with the goals, I think, of destroying warheads and rescuing a POW, but mostly just looking to shoot as many bad guys as possible.

Such is the way of Army of Two, a new game from Electronic Arts, which can be played solo, but is meant to be played with a friend online or using a split-screen. You control two soldiers of fortune working for a private military company called the Security and Strategy Corporation. The younger, prettier one is named Elliott Salem. He muses about the Wu-Tang Clan in the midst of combat, and says "bro" constantly. He is what we called in college a "douche bag" (nothing against Wu-Tang). His partner is Tyson Rios, older, grizzled and hard, though not above channeling Jack Black ala School of Rock after executing a few good kills.

Over the course of the game's six brief missions, which take you from China to Iraq ("Long live Saddam!" screams an insurgent with a Gatling gun), you uncover your employer's conspiracy to overtake the U.S. army as the country's primary military outfit. Although you play as guns for hire, it seems, at times, that there is supposed to be a message here about the risks of privatization of the military; the game even invokes President Eisenhower's 1961 farewell address warning "against the acquisition of unwarranted influence... by the military-industrial complex." However, the epilogue, in which Rios and Salem go on to found their own private military with the money of black market arms dealers, shows that Army of Two declines to advocate anything--except, perhaps, irresponsibility--in its approach to current events and the nation's military and political affairs.

I should, I suppose, be grateful not to be moralized to by a video game, especially one that allows you to "pimp" your firearms (I'm not gonna' lie, blinged-out assault rifles are kind of hilarious). Army of Two is supposed to be fun, and for the most part, it delivers in that regard. Playing by yourself (with a partner controlled by computer A.I.) doesn't make for a particularly memorable experience, but working with a friend can be a blast, as there is some strategy and teamwork required. The crux of the gameplay lies in the idea that if one player shoots a lot of bullets, he will draw the bulk of the hostile fire, rendering the other player less visible to the enemy and better able to flank and ambush them.

Comparisons to Gears of War are inevitable and Army of Two doesn't fare particularly well--it's gameplay isn't as tight and there's simply not as much action. When Gears of War 2 arrives this fall it should fairly blow this game away. Army of Two's short campaign mode and lack or replay value make it more of a rental, and actually, it's quite a good title to play with a buddy for just a few days. The most exciting moments come when one player is wounded and falls to the ground; the other player must then drag him behind cover and heal him. While the wounded player is being dragged, he can still shoot, and there's something incredibly satisfying about taking down an enemy who's about to shoot your "bro," while your "bro," in turn, is escorting you to safety. In the words of Tenacious D, that's fucking teamwork.

game review: MLB 2K8 (Xbox 360)

The rainfall was slow but consistent at Turner Field in Atlanta. I was in the top of the second inning of a scoreless tie between my Mets and the Atlanta Braves, with two outs and a runner on third, when something very strange happened: the umpire called for a rain delay. After I watched a brief cut sequence of the players milling around in the dugout, the umps called the game. And that was it. A loading screen appeared and I was back at the menu of Major League Baseball 2K8.

If this degree of "realism" sounds too, um, boring, you may be better off with the arcade-style action of The Bigs, released last summer. But if you're looking for a true baseball simulation, MLB 2K8 is the only game in town this year for the Xbox 360. And while it's a little rough around the edges--really, it's a little rough everywhere--MLB 2K8 delivers enough goods to satisfy those gamers craving some hardball.

MLB 2K8 benefits from great attention to detail. All 30 major league ballparks (and 20 minor league ones) have been recreated with the proper dimensions and some nice touches like the home run apple at Shea and the Green Monster at Fenway. Players' face animations range from decent to unrecognizable, but their motions have been captured more successfully: El Duque's high leg kick, for example, looks terrific.

Commentary from announcers Jon Miller and Joe Morgan also includes a few clever points. Start a game between the Yankees and Indians and they'll mention the midges that derailed Joba Chamberlain and co. in last year's ALDS. Soon enough, though, their chatter goes the way of typical sports video game commentary: I rocketed one over the left field wall and for some bizarre reason they started raving about an inside the park homerun. Those moments are awkward, but the big problem with the game's presentation is that it just doesn't run smoothly. I soon turned down the number of animations--of players walking to the batter's box, or instant replays--not because I was in a rush, but because they look choppy and load slowly.

(I must add--and I admit, this sounds like an old lady complaint--that the text is outrageously small. MLB 2K8 continues this annoying trend, seen also in games like Call of Juarez and Mass Effect, which forces gamers to either play on massive HD screens or murder their eyeballs.)

The standard game modes and features--Home Run Derby, create a player, franchise mode--are all here, though there's little more. Personally, I don't need a lot of extras if the baseball is good enough, and here, again, MLB 2K8 is a mixed bag. The gameplay makes interesting and extensive use of the right analog stick. It's used to pitch, field and hit, and for the first two it works pretty well. Each pitch--fastball, slider, and so on--requires a distinct, three point motion of the stick; it's challenging, but quickly becomes intuitive. When fielding, just point the stick in the direction of the corresponding base; hold it down for the correct amount of time and your throw will be quick and on target. Hitting is simplest of all--pull back on the stick to step, push forward to swing--but each at bat feels like a total crap shoot. When you pop out (which is most of the time), it's frustrating as hell. When, on occasion, you get a double down the left field line, you just feel lucky. It doesn't help that the computer pitchers can nip the outside of the strike zone nearly every time.

It's unfortunate that 2K Sports decided not to make a 2008 version of The Bigs, as many gamers would likely prefer a faster paced, more action packed baseball title. Baseball isn't hockey or basketball, by which I mean it's slow. It takes nearly an hour to play through a game of MLB 2K8. It requires some patience. Even if you favor a more realistic sim (as I do), 2K8 may not be your best bet. MLB '08: The Show, from Sony, is an all around better game. The Show, however, is exclusive to the Playstation systems, and those who've invested in an Xbox 360 are left only with MLB 2K8. Things could be a lot worse. 2K Sports has already announced plans for a free, downloadable patch that will make the game run at a smoother frame rate (which basically says they rushed it to shelves). With or without the patch, though, 2K8 is a solid (if flawed) and even addictive game for a baseball fan. I won't be surprised if I'm still playing it come October.

game review: Turok (Xbox 360)

In Turok, players are encouraged to create "meat fountains." When you shoot a large dinosaur with a rocket or bomb, it explodes into a couple of big, gory pieces. These chunks fly high in the air before landing on the ground with a wet, heavy thud. If you approach the carnage for a closer look, you'll notice that the bloody slabs are still discernible. Think: 'Hey, the raptor's leg is over here! And there's part of its face!' What, ultimately, do meat fountains add to Turok, beyond shock value and visceral thrills? Well, nothing. But perhaps that's a stupid question.

Turok puts you in the role of the title character, who first appeared in comic books as early as the 1950s and arrived on video game consoles in 1997 with Turok: Dinosaur Hunter for the Nintendo 64. Turok is a Native American, and like so many of his brethren, he sports a Mohawk, loves the rugged outdoors, and is mean with a bow and arrow (he's also comfortable with flamethrowers and plasma rifles). The game's story follows Turok and a band of intergalactic commandos who have been sent to a remote planet to capture an escaped war criminal. Upon entering the atmosphere, their ship is shot down and they find that the jungle planet is crawling with hostile soldiers and genetically engineered dinosaurs. Turok must slay everything in sight in order to survive. There's a little more to it (a very little), but that's the basis for this action packed first-person shooter.


Frequent and beautifully animated cut sequences give the game a cinematic quality and advance the plot. They depict Turok and the other camouflaged testosterone freaks in-fighting and shouting taunts like "Why don't you grow a pair!" These videos don't slow down the action, but act as quick, welcome transitions between the various stages and objectives. And while in some games there's a jarring disconnect between story clips and playable action, Turok blends the two almost seamlessly, due to its uniform, excellent graphics. The lush jungle, the explosions, and of course, the dinosaurs, all look great. It makes one wish there was more innovation and variation in the character and level designs; the enemy soldiers all look identical, and the settings--a cave, a futuristic military bunker--while very pretty, are all things you've seen rendered in 3D before.

The action is typical of a first-person shooter. You choose from an assortment of weapons (a balanced array, but, unfortunately, the guns aren't quite as ridiculous as in previous installments), and have to determine which ones are most effective in a given circumstance. Similarly, you're forced to weigh your strategy depending on the number of enemies and their positioning: occasionally you use stealth to sneak up on your prey, while other times you duck behind cover and pop up to shoot during a pause in enemy fire; and when in doubt, you can always just run in with guns blazing. The enemy A.I. for the soldiers (not so much the dinosaurs) is very high--they, too, can judge when to hide and when to take their shots, and this makes for a more challenging, enjoyable experience.


Turok lands in a crowded field of first-person shooters, and lacks the depth and fine-tuning of premiere titles like Bioshock, Halo 3, and Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare. There's really not much going on here beyond running around shooting guys and knifing dinosaurs with a massive blade; the game forgoes even the most rudimentary puzzles in favor of non-stop action. And sometimes that's enough. Turok is a fun, mindless action game with great graphics, solid controls, and buckets of gore. Where else can you find a meat fountain?

tv review: Terminator--The Sarah Connor Chronicles (2 hour premiere)

In the first five minutes of "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles," we see a robot from the future track Sarah and John Connor and try to murder them with a shotgun and a couple of Uzis. He mows down a slew of cops in the process. Terminator fans will no doubt be happy to see that the television show is loyal to its source material.

Set after the events in Terminator 2: Judgment Day (the show ignores the third movie), it begins with mother and son running from the law because of the mayhem they caused in that film. Hunting them is the FBI, which we quickly learn has been infiltrated by a terminator. John (Thomas Dekker), yearning for a normal teenage life, is resentful of his Messianic status as the future savior of mankind from the machines, but he's a pretty good sport about it all. Lena Headey plays Sarah, and while she never makes you forget Linda Hamilton, she's appropriately intense and efficient. The two of them manage to be kind of cute together, despite the fact that Sarah is usually shouting (justifiably paranoid) lines at John like, "No one is ever safe!"

John is just settling in at the latest in a long string of high schools when his teacher pulls a handgun out of his robotic leg and starts busting caps. Fortunately the cute girl sitting next to John is also a terminator, and she's here to protect him. From there the basic premise mirrors that of T2: a "good" terminator protects Sarah and John from a "bad" one (here a couple of bad ones). But instead of Arnold Schwarzenegger, we get Summer Glau, the wide-eyed girl next door, sporting lip gloss and mini-skirts. In contrast to Arnold's unwavering voice, Glau's hushed tones feel timid and confused. She's actually more believable when she's kicking ass. Then again, she's attractive enough that most fan boys won't care about her acting chops; and terminators are always kind of aloof, anyway.

Fans should enjoy references to the films peppered throughout the show, from quotes ("Come with me if you want to live"), to secondary characters (the Dyson family, the arms hoarder Enrique), to visual homage (the rolling highway, the lonely swing set). The show puts clever spins on the films' established time travel mechanism. It also shares its predecessors' penchant for cheesy (and generally amusing) one-liners.

Naturally, there are ways in which "Sarah Connor Chronicles" suffers as a result of its medium. Sarah was working through emotional scars ten years after her first brush with a terminator; here she has to maintain her sanity while outrunning an android every week. And the special effects obviously can't compete with those in a big-budget James Cameron film. But as far as television sci-fi action romps go, this is really not bad; it's about as good as one could reasonably hope for a Terminator t.v. show to be.