Snap Judgment: Afternoon Edition #2

Yeah, I'm late again. So sue me! (Ever notice how nobody uses that expression anymore? I think it's a sign of the times. You don't want to give people ideas these days. I just sued the guy at Peet's for taking 5 minutes longer to make an iced latte than the Starbucks chick does. I got all his stock in Staples and 3 of his wives! (Sorry, Mormon joke.))

And off we go...



The Wicker Man (thriller, rated PG-13, written/directed by Neil Labute, based on the screenplay by Anthony Shaffer)

Well, I'm kind of torn on this one, because I love any movie that gives me a chance to cultivate my Nic Cage impersonation (it tends to be very similar to my Keanu, but more halting), but on the other hand I'm annoyed that they dumbed down the title so much from what it used to be (The Dude Who Bought A Lot Of Furniture At Pier One In The Early 90's). And I'm a big Neil Labute supporter, but I'm not a big needless-PG-13-remake supporter. I guess I'll have to see what my other options are...


Crank (action, rated R, written/directed by Mark Neveldine & Brian Taylor)

Again, quite the dilemma. According to the official synopsis, Jason Statham has a poison injected into his blood that will kill him if his heart rate drops below a certain number. THAT'S AWESOME! It couldn't happen to a better person, either, because you'd pretty much have to be a suave shaved-headed British dude to turn that situation into a pickup line. ("'Fraid I've not even got time to buy you a drink, love... we'd best hire a taxi back to my flat straightaway.") But alas, the other shoe is dropping, and printed on the back of that shoe is the name of Statham's character in this film: Chev Chelios. No, I'm not even kidding, it's on the freaking poster. And while ex-Tasty Coma Wife Amy Smart makes a valuable addition to the cast, the fact that she'll be yelling either "Chev!" or "Chelios!" or some combination thereof whenever she is forced to address Statham (which I'm guessing is often, because let's face it, this isn't the kind of movie where her character is going to have an elaborate individual subplot wherein she transforms the lives of inner-city youth by teaching them about biology and Shakespeare) kind of puts a damper on the whole deal.

Crossover (drama, rated PG-13, written/directed by Preston A. Whitmore, II)

No, I swear I didn't make up that director's name -- although, now that I examine the poster, it seems more appropriate than it did at first glance. See, those basketball dudes might appear to be totally rockin' the angry walk, but I think they're actually about to burst into song and dance. "Play by your own rules," indeed. You go, Preston! Don't be afraid to throw some elaborate choreography and lamp pole-swinging into your hip urban b-ball flick. I hope there's a nice, heartfelt rooftop ballad about improving scoring percentage from behind the three-point line. You can't have enough of those.