This is for those of you who despise fanboy ass-rigged fake trailers (I guess they are the wave of the future; hell, we'll certainly be doing it for the Darker Mask, etc.) or you refuse to plop down $9 plus whatever to see another despicable Ben Stiller movie over the weekend (Night at the Museum; lawd have all of these people sold out to become what they once railed against? No wonder that's a cliche!). Someone popped this on their cellphone camera. Fair use exception, beeches...
All this needs is a view of "Galactus," because he's badder than Julian MacMahon as "Dr. Doom." Galactus, for you non comics nerds, eats planets. The Silver Surfer is an ex-employee on the lamb, kinda like the way "Papa John" left Dominoes Pizza because he hated the right wing Christian freak who ran the company (and of course Papa John demanded mo' money). This movie looks a little more fluffy than the darker Spider Man 3; at Christmas dinner my nephew was explaining how Spidey was turning in "Venom." Then he told me about his own comic characters. He's seven and we need to get him two things, like measles and the mumps, I wouldn't wish on any child: a literary agent and a lawyer.
Why brothas should care about FF2: Tim Story directs again. He'll be up there with Carl Franklin and Antoine Fuqua; he's demonstrated that folks can evolve from dumbass rap videos and even Barbershop. Kerry Washington is back as Alicia, Ben Grimm's girl (they put her out of the trailer, though she's Jessica Alba's bridesmaid). Kerry's blowing up. And of course there's Jessica Alba, who's of interest to us all, and we know she's got some African mitochondrial DNA somewhere that fake blonde hair. BTW, Julian MacMahon has a cameo as Doom, and he has been hanging out with Nip/Tuck former co-star Sanaa Lathan despite her prediliction for bamma ballers and rappers. Brought her to a set lunch. Now, that's a movie set I'd love to stalk...forgive me, my wife.
I promise--no more fluff after this. New posts on Gerald Ford (and the scum who rail against Jimmy Carter but want to quietly honor this clown who made Chevy Chase famous) and a review of Eisa Nefertari Ulen's amazing new novel Crystelle Mourning. I predict it will bust up the old an advance a new breed of women's lit (with Martha Southgate) the way Nirvana destroyed the Motley Crue type hair bands with a single album. But I'm getting too serious. For now, enjoy the Surfer, and skip down to Sam Jackson imprisoning the haff-nekkid white girl Christina Ricci. Happy New Year!!!