Oh shit! Quentin Tarantino is on the scene. News has began coming out that the motherfucker was bringing a Spaghetti Western into the world starring Christoph Waltz. Frankly, anything starring Waltz is something I’m interested in checking out. Since it first broke, intrepid sites have been throwing around details and rumors about the flick, which I have now collated for your convenience.

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Everything about Zack Snyder’s forthcoming Sucker Punch has been marketed to the permanently adolescent juvenile boner brigade. Everything. This is a movie that is playing on dudes’ most basic desires to see chicks kick ass in skimpy skirts in environments and scenarios rendered from their comic book and video game infested brains. This marketing has worked on me. Worked well. What blew my mind today was something that the marketing has gone to great lengths to not mention. Sucker Punch has musical numbers. It looks like every dude with arrested development should buckle up, because this movie could very well be Glee for Dudes With Stained Undies.

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Praise the fucking Lords, Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman are getting closer to being reunited for another film. The two motherfuckers behind two of my favorite cerebellum-fornicating flicks, Adaptation and Being John Malkovich are close to getting financing for their untitled new social satire. Rock the fuck on.

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Hello lovelies. It’s me, Patrick. The other douche of Omega Level. I’ve been kind of MIA lately. In the immortal words of Han Solo, “It’s not my fault.” I’ve had bronchitis for a week and started a new writing gig that requires me to write my balls off for nine hours a day. It’s sadly hurting my extracurricular writing BUT I thought I’d pop in a say that I’m still here. I still love you all.

With that crap out of the way, I’d like to share with you this joyful video of Sam Rockwell dancing like a boss. Most the footage is from Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, but there’s some nice variety sprinkled throughout. Even Moon! Ya-yeah! The video helped perk me up for a long day of writing and watching the dog fart.

See you at tomorrow’s Cage Match.

I often get into a debate about what I give a fuck about and what I’ll post about. Generally I ignore shit I don’t give a fuck about, but sometimes there’s a subsection of something I give a fuck about that I actually don’t give a fuck about.

Translation: I’m riding the new Spider-Man’s jock, but I don’t give a fuck about retarded set photos taken while they’re not shooting. But for continuity’s sake, I’ll post them anyways.

Whatever.

Hit the jump for the junk.

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Marvel’s dropped some character posters for the upcoming X-Men: First Class. The posters are of Xavier and Magneto, and they follow the “Before he was a crippled bald dude, he was…” motif. Which, I must add, I’m totally digging. I didn’t realize that there would be such an emphasis on the friendship and ideological rift that erupts out of it between these two chaps. Good calls! It seems that often they’re left behind in lieu of giving greater focus to a hairy dude with blue fur dropping one-liners and optic blasts.

Which I’m cool with, but this is even cooler.

Hit the jump for the posters.

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[face of a franchise presents two individuals that’ve fulfilled the same role. your task — choose the better of the two and defend your choice in the rancor pit that is the comments section]

William Shatner v. Chris Pine.

Whattaya think? Is Shatner a shoe-in because he’s the original urbane explorer of space? Or does Chris Pine’s reimagined Kirk, the Solo-meets-Skywalker take on the Trek universe, go places his predecessor simply couldn’t?

Let the games begin.

Now we’re fucking talking. Apparently Christopher Nolan and Zack Snyder’s desire man to play General Zod is none other than Viggo fucking Mortensen. While we’ve heard that both Lindsay Lohan and Kevin Costner have been up for parts, this is the first time that I’ve gotten my manjuices a-fluctuating about a particular casting rumor.

The kicker though? They haven’t even spoken to the dude yet.

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Drive Angry isn’t the movie Nic Cage devotees have been waiting for. It’s not a return to his genius form last seen in 2009’s Bad Lieutenant. He talks through his teeth and snarls a lot, but there are a lot of actors who can snarl better than Cage. It appears he’s trying to act cool, while it was probably his manic genius that got him offered the role in the first place. With that said, Drive Angry is still great in the expected ways a ridiculous b-movie should be. Oodles of blondes, bullets, and blood. But, sadly, having all the ingredients to a bitchin’ movie doesn’t mean it’s going to come out right.

Cage plays Milton (how subtle), a hardass who looks like a chewed up piece of gristle with a blonde wig on. Milton escapes from hell to avenge his daughter’s death and to save his granddaughter from a satanic cult. Sounds like a conflict of interest, but Drive Angry refuses to be bogged down by trite things like exposition. While Milton is pursuing the satanic cult and their Elvis-like leader Jonah King (Billy Burke), he’s accompanied by Piper (Amber Heard) – a firecacker with a mean right hook and a foul mouth. All the while, an unstoppable force calling himself the Accountant is out to drag Milton back to hell.

It’s William Fichtner, as the Accountant, who steals every scene in Drive Angry. He pulls off homicidal cool so convincingly while simultaneously looking uncomfortable in human skin. He’s got the funniest lines, the best kills, and a power tie that screams confidence. Amber Heard is…well, hot. That’s all she needs to be in this movie. B-movie legend Tom “Thrill Me” Atkins makes a great appearance as the police captain. But then there’s Cage.

Through the whole hour and 40 minutes I was asking WHY is Cage playing it so cool?! You escaped from Hell and you’re armed with a gun called “The God Killer” – be manic and jittery and scream a lot! I think he was going for Clint Eastwood or John Wayne redemption reaper. He’s just boring.

The 3D is put to good use. Meaning lots of limbs and bullets flying towards the screen. There’s not a boring moment and the frequent action sequences are done really well. Surprisingly, there’s not a lot of car chasing going on in Drive Angry. Shoot outs, brawls, and shoot outs while fucking and chugging Jack Daniels make up the action here.

If all the elements are there, how did filmmakers Patrick Lussier and Todd Farmer (My Bloody Valentine 3D) end up delivering a flaccid movie? They obviously know what makes grindhouse flicks so entertaining, but just throwing the ingredients into the same movie doesn’t automatically make a good movie. Story and characters to root for are essential too. Can’t blame them for trying though.

This review originally appeared on the Mishka Bloglin.

[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Wednesday morning.

Daryl woke up dizzy and thirsty, but he wasn’t convinced that he could blame it on the Colt 45. No, Daryl remembered that by the time he had come home and gotten into bed he had been sober. Practically. But trying to stand up, he couldn’t shake off his light head and tight chest.

“Why’re my damn lungs on fire?”

And then the recollection. Cigarettes and incense and smoke. He had been totally absorbed. Yes, Daryl now saw images of the mystic who had shown him…well, he knew what she had shown him, but it was too early to start trying to figure out what it meant.

“Hiya there, kiddo!” interjected Gramps, just in time to prevent the dangerous heavy thinking that sometimes follows an evening of heavy drinking. Easing his way through the threshold, Clark moved towards his favorite grandchild. “From the looks of it, I’d guess that someone had a good time last night!” The elder statesman of the Millar tribe slapped his grandson on the shoulder, laughing and remembering his own youthful indiscretions. “I hope she was worth it — and if I know you, I’m sure she was!”

“Nah, Gramps, nothing like that — it was a night out with the boys.” Sitting back down on the edge of his bed, Daryl shot a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I thought I had heard something about you taking out a lady?”

Remembering his plans for the evening, Daryl reassured himself. “Oh yeah! I’m taking Vanessa out tonight!”

Gramps inquired, with a glimmer in his eyes of a man who knows, “And what is it that you’re planning on doing with this Vanessa?”

“Well, I think we’re going to head to the movies.”

“Good idea — nice and dark, you can really make your move in a theater!”

“Gramps!”

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