"300" dudes in loincloths a visionary metaphor for Iraq

By Michael and Joel

Michael: "Gay!"

I've heard it said, oh, at least 300 times about this film. And it may seem hard to debate such an intellectual argument. After all, the movie is filled with spear-chuckers wearing only red loincloths, dripping olive oil sweat in the sun, taking on The Prince of Persia, who really seems to dig S&M (and I'm not talking about the Metallica album) with an army of (sex) slaves called Immortals for their renowned stamina, which the Spartans vow to "put to the test," if you catch my drift.

But, as my wonderful mother, the late Betsy Bay used to tell me during those confusing adolescent years, "gay" is a relative term. And that has proven true time and time again throughout my...throughout history.

Not really sure how this could be misinterpreted as "gay."

I mean, sure, on the surface, my description of 300 only two paragraphs back seems kind of gay, but around the same time, circa 300 B.C., the Greeks were holding some of their first Olympic games...in the nude.

That's right folks. It's hard to believe in today's conservative culture, but back in the heyday of the Olympic Games, dudes let it all hang out whilst competing in wrestling matches, running full speed down the track and performing beautiful synchronized swimming techniques. It was a wonder to behold, though quite "gay," especially considering that women were banned from competition, essentially making the original Olympics a gyros fest.

Even that, however, pales in comparison to eight guys blowing nine guys, in the words of legendary comic Lee Harvey Oswalt. And really, is that even THAT gay relative to the idea of Rip Taylor, Elton John, Neil Patrick Harris, Rex Grossman, Liberace, Fabio and that black guy from Grey's Anatomy running a train on a unicorn atop a bed of rainbows during a pride parade? Not really.

"Gay" is a relative term. Neil Patrick Harris gets sloppy seconds, above.

The point is that while, yes, the male bonding and focus on working as a single "unit" may seem "gay," 300 is relatively mild in its gayness by historical standards, which is important to note, because at its core, 300 is a film about unadulterated history, straight from Frank Miller, a Spartan graphic novel historian who left behind a book to depict the facts, and only the facts, about the Battle of Thermometer, called so for the heat that was generated by the sea of flaming arrows--also totally not gay, despite its overwhelming phalliticity.

It's too bad that his artist, Lynn Varley, wasn't very good, and Miller himself didn't do much in the way of telling a complete story. Luckily, "director" Zack Snyder was given the reins to turn their hieroglyphics into a medium that today's audiences can understand (it's cool, super-fans, Michael Freakin' Bay had another little project called Trans-fucking-formers at the time and couldn't have accepted the gig were it offered). And turn he did, down to the very last detail. Miller's cryptic history is realized, as Snyder fills plot holes and doesn't shy away from providing viewers the true, gritty truth, in sllloooooowwww mooootttion. This may be the most historically accurate film ever created. Period.

While Miller and Varley's book wasn't quite as detailed as the Sunday greats like Marmaduke, and provided lame audio queues, it provided a formidable outline for Snyder's visionary epic.

Maxim, hailed alongside The Atlantic, The New Yorker and The FHM for its literary and arts prowess, wrote on the 300 movie box, "A spectacular visual feast that is as inventive and groundbreaking as the first Matrix." If that doesn't lend credability to the artistic vision that is 300, I don't know what does.

Maxim's teaser headlines prove it has truly earned it's spot among the intellectually elite.

Joel: The Matrix? Are you shitting me? That movie was crap compared to my visionary epic, The Number 23. But where were my sequels--The Number 24 and Numbers Revolution? If Hollywood wasn't overrun with Je...but I digress. The movie is packed like granola with areola, and you are darn tootin' about one thing, Michael; 300 is historical as fuck. And you know what they say, "History begets history." Which is why it became apparent early on that Snyder was not only recording history, but creating a metaphor for the War in Iraq. The War...Against Terrorism of Mass Destructions. Or TMDs.

Just look at some of the films key quotes and you have an idea of how Snyder feels about America's greatest conflict since Rocky IV.

As 300 is to the War in Iraq, Rocky IV was to the cold war. Spoiler alert: That referee bites it in Round 3.

As soon as the Persians (Americans) invade Sparta (Iraq), they're all driving around in Hummers, like, "This is madness!"

But the Spartans say, "No," [dramatic pause] "This is Spaaaaarta!"

See, if you buy into Snyder's liberal hullabaloo, America tried to make a change in a culture it did not understand, but the Iraqis were all like, "Dudes, this isn't madness. It's just Iraaaaaaq!" You should not change culture you do not understand, according to Snyder (and Indian in the Cupboard).

During the Spartan War the Ira...Spartans were burning their oil in an effort fuck us...Persia over, raise gas prices and shit on the environment. Oil smoke ain't good. I saw it in that Al Gore flick where he used that lift for the giganto power-point screen. Anyways, Not only did they give us nothing (TMDs, oil) but they took from us everything, Snyder argues.

It turns out the Persians, not the Spartans, were harboring TMDs all along.

"Give them nothing! But take from them everything!" Word, Snyder. Word.

"Ha-ooh!" a chant used often by the Spartan soldiers, is actually taken directly from the Iraqi equivalent for the American Marines' "Ooh-rah!" And it's just downright disrespectful.

"Tonight we dine in hell," one of the most famous quotes from the flick, is often inaccurately reported as an inaccurate translation on Snyder's part. Many believe the original quote actually ends with heaven, and was the common cry of Spartan martyrs before suicide mission. This theory, however, has been proven incorrect. Snyder's translation is, in fact, accurate, and the quote is actually meant to symbolize the routine of life and war in Sparta. The country's soldiers have become accustomed to the hell that is their country. And the rather than being a war cry, the line was a protest slogan meant to address the repetition of everyday life in Sparta, the plight of the common man, if you will.

"Prepare for glory," however, was, indeed, a gross mistranslation. Accurately, the quote should read, "Prepare for rape." Because Persia is going to bend Sparta over and fuck it in the ass, no matter how right the Spartans are in defending their way of life from an evil empire, if you buy into Snyder's propaganda.

Rex Grossman plays Sparta in a dramatic recreation of 300. He is "sacked" by a "Packer," in PG-13 terms, above.

There's a saying they used to have in Sparta, I mean New York, but probably Sparta, too.

"Freedom isn't...free, like, at all. No matter what, you're playing with blood. And blood is the highest of costs. The cost of blood."

Special Announcement! Joel checks into rehab

Los Angeles, Calif.--Many fans of Michael and Joel: At the Movies have been flooding the gang's inbox with questions regarding Joel's health for the past few days. The producers of the site issued a statement this morning in response to the questions and to squelch erroneous rumors that Joel may have died after being crushed by an horse whilst the two had sexual intercourse.

"We, the producers of Michael and Joel: At the Movies, are sad to report from an underground bunker that in an effort to write the best Pineapple Express review possible, little more than one week ago, Joel made a misinformed decision and formed an addiction to cocaine. The addiction escalated at an alarming pace until Joel, at the outset of last week's planned Schindler's List review, was rendered unconscious by a cocaine overdose/heart attack.

"'It was beating, like, really fucking fast,' Joel told doctors of his heart immediately following the incident.

"We, the producers, are proud to announce, however, that Joel made the decision to skip directly to the seventh step of recovery and checked himself into rehab at a super-secret celebrity rehab facility as soon as the center opened at 9 a.m. PST Monday. When rehabilitation was first suggested, Joel vehemently said, "No, no, no." But then he decided to go, go go. With Joel's progressive plan to skip steps deemed 'unnecessary,' he is expected to make a full recovery and return to the site Friday, when Michael and Joel will review 300.

"Joel said he regrets to informs his fans, but that after the incident, which caused him to sustain severe head trauma, he cannot seem to recall the mega huge announcement he was going to make just seconds prior to his noggin hitting the floor, but will do his best to put the pieces back together in upcoming weeks."

Michael also wanted to let fans know that after setting up their email account only three weeks ago, they have already been informed that they have won the British National Lottery. He wants fans to know that this will not change them as people one bit, as they were already rich as tiramisu.

Schindler's List Michael Bay's Top 15 Inspirations for Making Great Movies

By Micahel and Joel By Michael Freakin' Bay

Michael: Today, faithful readers, we want to talk to you about a little event in history called...The Holocaust. You might have heard of it? Guy named Adolf Hitler eradicated six million Jews? Old gas-in-the-shower Nazi trick?

No?

Really?

Well, all right. No worries, we'll get you up to speed. But basically, "director" Steven Spielberg, more or less the Eric Bana of cinema, decided to...

Joel: Hey, Michael! Hey Michael!

What Joel?

You remember last week, when we reviewed Pineapple Express?

Yeah?

And we got high so that our review would have common themes with the film, even dragging it out this week to kind of recreate that final scene in the diner in Pineapple Express, which, in turn, was taking a rip at how stoners, when they get high, sit around and talk about what they did when they were high last time.

Joel, we've got a movie review to do. Please don't start.

Start? Start what? I'm not starting anything. What I'm trying to tell you is that I might have, kind of, sort of, been high on something other than weed...

Don't do this. It's only our third week with the blog...

Don't call it that.

Okay. It's only our third week with the site. Let's just do the review.

It was coke, Michael. Coke! I was high as a fuckin' kite on cocaine. And I've got a really, really big announcement to make before we do this re...re...[thump]

Joel? Yo, Joel. You all right, man? Can we get a medic? I need a medic! Damn, his face is starting to turn blue.

Anyways, where was I. Spielberg, the Eric Bana of cinema...you know what? I don't think I can do this today. Schindler's List is a pretty serious flick--six million Jews, fake showers and all. And without The Schumacher, it would seem a little unfair to the Nazis. I just wouldn't feel right reviewing it on my own. But you're here, and you're craving an excitement that can only be quenched by the fellatiotasticity that is Michael and Joel.

Well, okay. How about this? I've often gotten the question from fans, "Michael Freakin' Bay, what inspires you to make such awesome movies, with awe-inspiring shots of actors looking awe-struck by awesome situations?" And it just so happens that I, Michael Freakin' Bay, carry around this list of inspirations, conveniently ordered from 15 to 1, and I'd like to share it with you today after, ever-so-coincidentally, Joel seems to have been rendered unconscious by a cocaine overdose foreshadowed in the previous post and is turning blue before my eyes with no immediate help in sight.

"Violet! You're turning Violet!"

The Schumacher will be sent to the juicing room. Get it? The juicing room! I crack myself up.

Haha never gets old. We might have to review that sometime. Anyways, without further adieu...

Michael Freakin' Bay's Top 15 Inspirations for Making Great Movies

#15 Filmmaking for Dummies by Bryan Michael Stoller and Jerry [Lee--ed note] Lewis
Now, as most of my fans will already know, I'm not the type of director (note: without quotes that time), or person, to do things by the book, as they say. I'm like Mel Gibson in that cop movie before he went crazy. No! After...he went crazy. I'm a renegade movie maker, and the only reason I would keep any book within arm's reach is to shit all over it while I'm makin' m'movies. Filmmaking for Dummies is usually my toilet paper. When I get some time, I'm going to write my own book, about not going by the book. I'll call it, Movie Making for Totally Awesome Directors...like Michael Freakin' Bay. But no one will ever read it, because totally awesome directors don't go by the book. Anyways, the only time I ever actually opened Filmmaking for Dummies was when I heard it had a really sweet cartoon.

#14 The Throne of Brown Blossoms (The Crapper)

Where I spend most of my time shitting on Filmmaking for Dummies and reading my Sears Catalogs (see: #12).

#12 Sears Catalogs
When lil' Mikey Freakin' Bay was just starting to get the manly itch, these magazines were the perfect spank material. They helped me develop an appreciation for the female anatomy, that is to say, breasts. As with most things, the internet has put the Sears catalog at our finger tips, and I often spend hours on the set at Sears.com, searching through page after blissful page of woman's undergarments.

#11 Magic Eye

In 1995, I starred at a Magic Eye in a shopping mall for 63 consecutive hours. That's when I saw a sail boat and it inspired me to write Pearl Harbor. That's how most art happens, actually. Magic Eyes, which are autostereograms designed to allow 3D images of boats and--as it often pertains to college created Magic Eyes--phallic symbols to emerge magically, as their name would imply, from within 2-dimensional patterns (thank you Wikipedia), remain one of my biggest movie-making inspirations to date, as well as...

#10 History
I fancy myself to be a history buff. This is why so many of my flicks are filled with historical reference. The Rock, for instance, was based on a documentary series called Prison Break. I got the idea for Armageddon from a history book I read in high school by Nostradamus. And I have created a post-modern (futuristic) historical documentary with Transformers about the forthcoming invasion by robots in disguise, which I learned about after traveling to the future and acquiring a sports Becket. No matter who wins, we all Shia LaBeouf.

#09 Vin Diesel
While I was growing up on the back lots of Los Angeles movie studios, I used to watch Vin Diesel. Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah. Vin Diesel is awesome.

#08 USC's film school
As Michael Jordan was rejected from his high school team but went on to train and eventually compete in AAA baseball, I, Michael Freakin' Bay, was rejected from USC film school, only to become the quintessential action movie director of our time. Our rejections made us who we are, a AAA baseball player and movie maker extraordinaire, respectively. And one day, I may retire from film, but I'll likely go on to purchase New Line Cinema, come out of retirement and then direct alongside my team until it becomes embarrassing.

#07 A fine chardonnay or champagne
Aged in an oak barrel, the Muscat grapes of Northern Italy take on a a beautiful flavor that is smooth on the palette, with an aftertaste that hints of heaven. Served in in a pure crystal glass at 62 degrees, its clarity is apparent, and the room is filled with the aromatic wonders of the valley. Similar to a bottle of wine, my movies are said to only get better with age.

#06 Chinese New Year 4th of July
Got to give it to those Chinese. While they may be Commie bastards, they sure know how to celebrate 4th of July...by making things blow up. The skies are lit up and dragons are roaming the streets. It doesn't really make sense, but sometimes things don't. Whenever I find myself in one of those spots, I use explosions to distract the audience...just like the Chinese handle word affairs.

#05 Chris O'Donnell
Mmm hmm.

#04 Bridge Over The River Kwai
Back when gook-killing was considered patriotic and not politically incorrect, this was the gook-killing movie of all gook-killing movies. Now, it's just racist. The plot revolved around some guys who built a bridge. The gooks destroyed it. The guys rebuilt the bridge; the gooks destroyed it. I often compare my relationship with movie critics to this flick. I'm never going to stop building, guys, no matter how often you un-American bastards keep shooting them down!

#03 Vidal Sassoon
Vidal Sassoon once said 'Hair is another name for sex.' How am I supposed be taken seriously on the set if my hair isn't begging for it? How do I expect my brain to become impregnated with brilliant movie-making ideas without Vidal Sassoon all over my coif?

#02 C.O.P.S.
Bad Boys! Bad Boys! The show was actually inspired by my flicks Bad Boys and Bad Boys II. Only C.O.P.S. is racist. My movies had black C.O.P.S., whereas on C.O.P.S. they just arrest B.L.A.C.K. people. And the chase scenes often lack spectacular explosions, but C.O.P.S. is still good television, which is why I use it as the standard of quality when creating my movies.

#01 Love

"...is all that is necessary for one to have" The Beatles once sang. Love is the driving force behind everything I do. Facing the end of the world? Not before you fall in love with Liv Tyler. Pearl Harbor's getting bombed by the Japs? Not until a couple of captains hook up with a couple of nurses. Meat Loaf music video? Too easy.

This lesson, friends, I give you for free. The rest, will be available exclusively in Movie Making for Totally Awesome Directors...like Michael Freakin' Bay. Available...in the future.

Special Announcement! Michael and Joel to tackle genocide

Los Angeles, Calif. --Michael and Joel announced at a press conference today attended by friends and family at a really cool undisclosed location that in this Friday's post they will goosestep their way through their most genocidal review yet when they tackle The One, The Only, The Holocaust, with a review of Steven Spielberg's career (and mood) killer Schindler's List.

The duo also wanted to make textual note that they were flown in by a totally badass helicopter and escorted by models with rockin' bods, and that, so far, they've been having a great week. They hope you are too, unless you happen to be Richard Roeper.

The Pineapple Express chugs with comedy, crushes pennies with action

By Michael and Joel

Michael: Light up a bong! Roll a fatty. Get stoned. Do something at 4:20. Drop an A-bomb out of a B-40. Blow a stick. Spark a J. Hit a hubby bubbly (Arabs only). Tighten someone's wig while listening to Bob Marley. Doobie, doobie, doobie. James Franco-American dated Mary Jane...Watson.

Joel: Who's got the herb?

...the young girls ask me. Pineapple Express is not a train, folks, but a movie that's like Cheech and Chong on a train...a crack train full of weed.

I wish. What a pussier drug to write a movie about than ganja. This is the 21st Century, the two triple-fuckin'-zero decade, folks. Even my grandma smokes pot nowadays, and she's retarded.

Your grandma's not retarded; she's retired and she suffers from glaucoma.

Hobblygook! Either way, Grammy Schumacher blows all her money from the government on weed, while I'm stuck without funding for a true Lost Boys sequel.

Whatever. We need to review this movie.

Brah, I'm going to review the shit out of this thing.

Pineapple Express is not a film for the faint of heart, bitches and gentlemen. It is a long, hard (hehe, long and hard --ed note: Joel) look into the dark, seedy underbelly of the cannabis drug trade where anything can happen, and fat Jews become action stars.

Dale Denton -- who previously starred as Ben Stone and (unconvincingly) used his curly Jew sperm to impregnate the 27th hottest woman in the world played by (also the 5th smartest woman in the world) real-life doctor Izzie Stevens (no relation to Cat) who played the title role in Knocked Up -- assumes the role of pothead Seth Rogen. Denton's stiff bedroom performance and unbelievable interest in sticking around with an unruly bitch to take care of the kid made his Knocked Up role a dud. Luckily, Pineapple Express gives him one hell of a catchphrase:

"You've been served." Now that's how you give someone a subpoena. Boosh!

James Franco-American, played by the brilliant Saul Silver, who debuts in Pineapple Express, is less-than-brilliant with his debut performance. Franco-American, also known as The Green Goblin (a name he assumed from the type of reefer he sold back in high school), gets Rogen into trouble by selling him the secretest weed in the world known as Pineapple Express. Pineapple Express leads to visions of murderous murder, in which Ted Jones (played by Harvey FREAKIN' Birdman) blows out the brains of of an Asian Olympian on the verge of Beijing. That's fucked.

Franco-American may be smiling because he just farted, or it may have something to do with the placement of his right hand. Either way, Rogen is visibly and justifiably uncomfortable.

Rogen sees this shit happen whilst serving subpoenii, and hot, sassy, bitchin'-tits cop Rosie Perez, played by the the actress formerly known as Carol, is in on the illegalities. Carol has nice Latin boobies, packed tightly underneath a cop costume, which has the possibility of satisfying no less than seven of my fetishes. Carol has come a long way from boning Woody Harrelson in White Men Can't Jump, in which Blade played basketball with a white guy. I.e. I'd hit it.

Anyways, there's not enough sex in Pineapple Express, but at least it had its fair share of action. Early on, Rogen tells a joke or two, and Mr. Franco-American giggles mostly because he's high. Really, things aren't that funny. The movie relies too much on situational comedy and well-timed delivery than one-liners, and no one wants that. How does this film expect people to laugh when it doesn't slam them with a badoom chhhh cymbal crash of a line to let them know they should be laughing? It is only when the action kicks into overdrive that things get good.

Rogen (left) and Franco-American watch Pineapple Express from behind a tree, but are unsure whether it's funny or not because the movie lacks serious one-liners and a laugh track. Funny? Who knows?

Smartly, director David Gordon Bleu, who recently graduated from indie filmmaking to the big leagues (welcome to real movies with budgets, Dave), places weapons in exactly all the right spots to keep the gunfire blazing, the juices flowing and m' dick hard. There's an early blue-ballin' fight scene that wishes it was in one of the Bourne films, with household objects brought into battle, but never quite comes through with the intense action that can only be harnessed by Matt Damon. Sure, characters are grabbing and bashing with a dust buster, and there is some irony in the scene where one finds himself face first in a litter box after the homeowner is seen making a tuna-fish birthday cake for his calico cat. Did I say calico? I meant dead. That's some seriously symbolism and shit.

It is the action scene near the end, however, that kicks the most amount of dead cat ass. Rogen's performance hints of not taking the role seriously, but he amazingly takes as many bullets as the action greats to be convincing enough. Really, though, Bruce Willis wouldn't give a shit about a missing an ear, and Rogen walks quite the bitch line with his bitchy bitch bitch bitching about something you can barely see under those Jew curls anyways, but picks it back up with a clever riff on the great Evander Holyfield, who, of course, lost his ear in the classic "Rumble in the Jungle" fight with Magic Mike Tyson.

But where was I going with this? Explosion after explosion keeps these final scenes rolling the joint, so to speak. The Goblin beats up brown sugar tits, but it's all good, because the film finally hits its stride with some kickass fight scenes. And there's an epic scene near the end in which Rogen carries his best fucking friend forever out of a flaming building.

These comparative shots show that Rogen was not the first action hero to save a partner in his underoos, but he and Franco-American are the first non-interracial couple to be involved in such a feat. The shots also ask the eternal question, do you save your friends in boxers or briefs?

Flaming is right. I mean, I see what you're saying about the action, but really? Marijuana? That's barely a drug. What kids bother doing marijuana anymore nowadays? And if kids at McKinley High aren't into the drug, how does the studio expect to sell merchandise (drug paraphernalia)? This is an industry Mr. Gordon Bleu. Get your head of your drug-mule of an ass...oh, yeah. That's right. We're dealing with marijuana, so you probably don't have any drug balloons up your ass. Fucking amateur. If I caught my kids doing that shit, I'd give 'em an eight ball and demand they man up.

What I'm getting at is this would have been much more entertaining if Rogen and Franco-American were doing lines off Rosie Perez's tits for 90 minutes. I don't mean to brag, but back in the 70s I did said lines off said actresses' said tits at Disneyland. Mr. Toad wasn't the only one having a wild ride if you catch my drift.

Rosie Perez was put on this planet for only two reason. The first was playing Tina, an annoying Latin bitch, in Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, a role which she has reprised in numerous films and in real life. She's also got a good rack off which to snort coke.

And why was Rogen dating a high school girl? Who does he think he is, Roman Polanski? Now that guy knew how to handle his blow. I still remember this time in the 80s when the polack and I were at the Viper Room doing coke off Rosie O'Donnell's tits. He wasn't too into it because she was (is--ed note: Michael) fatter than hell , but that just meant more Rosie for The Schumacher. God, those were the days...

Anyways, the film's premise rests on the absurd idea that a customer would spend time with his dealer. I would never hang out with any of my dealers. First of all, they're all black. And all black people, unequivocally, love Shaft, strawberry milkshakes and donkey punchin', and I'm just not a huge fan of strawberry milkshakes. Plus, they are the most boring pieces of shit. Not black people of course -- that would be racist, and we are most definitely not racist -- but drug dealers.

Edwardo is always like, "Let's hang, esse. Lazytown is on." But I just want my coke so I can get on with my day...my coke-filled day. I mean, there are lots of titties to be snorted. How am I ever supposed to get a tiger at my house like Tony Montana if I have to keep hearing Edwardo's stupid stories about how he once got away from a cop by giving him a one-ounce bag of coke. Turns out, it wasn't really a cop, but one of his buddies playing a prank. Super awesome, brah.

Anyways, dealers are a dime a dozen and there is no way I would risk my fuckin' life trying to save his. I sure as hell would never even think of going into that goddamned flaming barn to try to save his flat ass from the bunker. Well, it may be kind of cool with all the guns and beating on Rosie Perez. That reminds me of this time when I helped Christian Bale beat his mom and sister and then we did lines off Chris O'Donnell's tits.



Michael and Joel rate Pineapple Express: Half-baked


If you liked Pineapple express, you may also enjoy...

Cheech and Chong: Up in Smoke A stoner buddy movie on the road, where the van itself is made of marijuana. Similar to the predicament in Speed, Cheech and Chong must make it to their destination before they smoke the whole van. Plus, its "buddies" are 50 percent more ethnic than those in Pineapple Express.



Freaks and Geeks: The Complete Series The straight-to-television precursor to Pineapple Express. See Rogen and Franco-American form their habits during high school, something us directors like to call foreshadowing.



Traffic It's not quite as real and gritty as Pineapple Express, and "director" Steven Soderbergh uses some funny color filters, and really, who's going to fuck that kid from That 70s Show? It's also quite the sausage fest of a movie, but amidst that sausage is the beautiful Catherine Zeta Jones.


Cannabis Favored by low-income hood rats, skaters, President Clinton and rappers alike, cannabis is the "#9" they experiment with at the beginning of the film. It's kind of a bitch drug, but (we've heard) it makes our movies better.

Dark Knight more like "Gay Night" at the movies

Michael: Balls! Six modern Batman movies have been made and they still haven't given Michael FREAKIN' Bay the chance to direct the series.

The Dark Knight (or Batman Begins 2) sees The Caped Crusader facing off against Two...er...Face (aka Harvey Dent) and The Joker, as well as Scarecrow, who is dispatched like quite the bitch in this iteration. Christian Bale reprises his role as Batman under the "direction" of Christopher Nolan, a guy who got lucky on a time-shifting gimmick. Oh, look at me, everybody. I rearranged a movie so that it wasn't in order. This time his gimmick is shifting aspect ratio from widescreen to super fullscreen in IMAX. Don't think those scenes went unnoticed, Chris. That's amateur work.

Batman and The Joker watching The Dark Knight together, above. The Joker's inquisitive look is the result of an aspect ratio change.

And the plot is just riddled with goofs. One goof sees The Joker telling totally different back stories to various characters in the movie. This is either sloppy editing or two brothers who couldn't seem to agree on The Joker's origins when we all know Jack Nicholson became The Joker after falling into a vat of acid (his own syphalitic semen). Seriously, this movie is twice as confusing as Memento, and that movie made no sense whatsoever. I still can't figure out who Batman is. We thought it was Bruce Wayne, but then Harvey Dent says it is he, but which side of his face might it be, maybe it's Alfred the Butler, but he's just makin' tea. Busta Rhymes! At least audiences understood Bad Boys II, which the dicktarded critics didn't seem to understand. The beauty was in it's simplicity, guys.

To Nolan's credit he does use real stunts and explosions. He could have CG'd the exploding hospital, but instead he had the balls to blow up a real hospital. I don't even know that he had permission to do so, or whether he evacuated the place beforehand. Seriously--balls. Too bad he had Heath Ledger in a skirt. I assume it was the same skirt he wore in Brokeback Mountian, or did Gyllenhaal wear the skirt. Either way, Gay!

It was Donnie Darko's sister Maggie who took over for Katie "Mrs. Batshit Crazy" Holmes. Too bad Gyllenhaal's rack isn't supple as Holmes. If you notice, it was so bad Nolan decided not to feature it in any gratuitous shots. Why were women even included in this film without shots of their woman parts? Gyllenhaal just looks like a sad turtle. The sexy Catwoman should have returned in this this one, or at least (my choice) Kerri Kendall as Harley Quinn.

Maggie Gyllenhaal looks like a sad turtle. Too bad this isn't The Neverending Story, Maggie!

Finally, the music was atrocious and completely unmemorable. Where are the legendary rock bands being backed by orchestras...

Joel: Tell me about it! "Ba da ba da da ah ya I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grave." Where the hell is the alternative rock that music fans crave? Yeah, maybe the film is nearing the $400 million mark, but think of how much more it would have made if 225,000 people didn't need to go to Lollapalooza last weekend to get their rock fixes. At least the Watchmen trailer preceding the film knew what's up. This shit is performed by a faceless orchestra with no star power to speak of, written by Hanz Zimmer (who had to use the same theme for all three Pirates movies, presumably due to lack of creativity) and that's just bad, lazy business.

And what's with the costumes? Honestly, a lightweight, practical suit? Really? No nipples? How do you expect a movie to sell without nipples. Especially with Michael's point about the lack of tasty female parts, no nipples is definitely a no, no.

Alicia Silverstone (from left), George Clooney and Dick Grayson all showed nipple in Batman and Robin. Nolan should have taken a queue from a better director and smuggled some raisins in the Bat suit.

Unlike my counterpart, I did have the opportunity to direct two films in the esteemed series and have to ask, "Why the fuck did they not consult me for a third?" Really? How did Gotham City get so dark? Where is the neon that used to light the streets? And Chicago? We filmmakers moved out to the West Coast to get away from this mediocre shit. Fucking Chicago? Really?

And in an open letter to Mr. Nolan, I have to ask, "Was it completely necessary to 'restart' the series? Did you have to fuck my shit up?" Everything I laid out in previous iterations of the series was all for naught. It is as if Frank Miller came in and rewrote Batman, and Nolan just ran with it. Miller was just a two-bit writer for Robocop 3 while I was cutting my teeth on this little series called Batman. Fucking Batman! That bitch was just writing no-name comics and bankrupt movie scripts while I was working on the biggest IP in the business. What a bitch.

The groundwork I laid with Mr. Freeze was to be epic, but this asshat just walks in and fucks up my shirt...shit. I'm drunk. But even drunk I created a better Batman than this asshole. At least my script made sense. Mr. Freeze wanted to freeze things, and Poison Ivy wanted to plant things--poisonous things. The Joker doesn't even tell good jokes in this film. Instead, the actor that portrayed him (God rest his soul) died. What's funny about that?

The death of Heath Ledger, the actor who played The Joker in The Dark Knight, is no joke. It would be insensitive for anyone to make jokes at his expense, and yet, Nolan found it appropriate to slather him in clown makeup and parade him around the screen as a fiendishly wicked criminal. Real nice.

The script is ultimately too busy and makes little sense. It also lacks the sense of realism that carried my films. Seriously, you have a bunch of characters running amuck without nipples. You call that realistic? I call it a Wrestlemania poster. And Cop #3--a supposedly well-trained Chicago...er Gotham City (I forget sometimes with this film's piss-poor set pieces) cop who neglects to fire his SHOTGUN in defense in one scene in which a convoy is attacked by The Joker and his henchmen. Yeah, I'm just not buying this film. And really, I didn't. I bought a ticket to Mamma Mia! and snuck into this film, correctly predicting it as a worthless experience. Save your money and go see The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor instead, one of two Brendan Fraser masterpieces to hit theatres this summer season.

Michael and Joel give this film: Two faces down

Michael and Joel: At the Movies - Launches Tonight!

Michael Bay and Joel Schumacher are proud to announce that their new debate-tastic movie reviews blog will officially launch tonight shortly after midnight with a review of the summer's biggest film The Dark Knight. Sure, it's been out for a few weeks, but they guarantee you haven't seen a review and perspective the likes of their own. The duo will continue to review one film every week, and the site will be updated every Friday. Make sure to tell your friends now, because Michael and Joel: At the Movies is a blog that isn't to be missed--a review site for true fans of movies, not film snobs. Michael and Joel issued the following statement to help users get a better understanding of their approach to reviews.

"Michael Bay and Joel Schumacher are esteemed directors-turned-critics who seek to right the wrongs of “film connoisseurs” at large. While many critics and members of the Academy of Motion Picture Whatever feel that believable acting, great direction, inspired cinematography, tight scripts and resonant messages make good films, their long-winded dissertations on the medium are really just hootenanny designed to make audiences feel like they understand what amount to really boring and confusing movie-going experiences. Fucking elitists. We, Michael and Joel, understand what audiences truly crave, which is why we dispel the bullshit from reviews to focus on what truly matters—big explosions, all-too-clever one liners, awe-inspiring shots of actors looking awe-struck by awesome situations, rock bands with orchestral accompaniment [or Meat Loaf (Meat Loaf is pretty fuckin’ rad) —ed note: Michael] , nice breasts, lots of them, endless gunfire, abundant CGI, more explosions and tacky double entendre [and rubber suits, preferably with nipples—ed note: Joel]. The point is that we know what makes good movies—despite our respective ratings on one collective movie reviews website—and that’s why you, the reader, will find some of the best reviews around on this here website. The two-person reviews are designed to offer spirited quasi-intellectual debates. Joel thought we should call it Joel and Michael, but fuck him! Welcome to Michael & Joel: At the Movies."

Remember, the site launches at midnight with a review of The Dark Knight, and the guys look forward to seeing you right here at michaelandjoel.blogspot.com