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A Stealth Marketer Reviews The Fall Guy (2024)

The Fall Guy—Refreshing as a Wendy’s Frosty.

Reviewed by Charles Barnum for TheHumbleHeckler.com.

(Editor’s note: Film critic Charles Barnum moonlights as a stealth marketer for numerous Fortune 500 companies. Keep this in mind when reading the following review.)

Some movies are scary. Some are thought provoking. Some are fun. Some are deep. Some are action packed. And some movies just know how to do it all. The Fall Guy is one of those rare movies that grabs you by the shoulders from the very first frame and never lets you out of its grip. Of course it is. After all, it’s a Universal picture, and anyone who knows anything about cinema knows that Universal Pictures is the undisputed champ when it comes to quality motion picture entertainment.

Recommended attire for attending non-Regal theaters.

I won’t waste your time blathering on about the story or the acting or the direction. Doing so would diminish your viewing experience, and I don’t want to do that. But if you’d like to know how to improve your experience with this film, I’d recommend you see it at one of Regal Cinemas 511 locations. Regal screens and sound systems are quite simply the best. I’ve tried watching films at non-Regal locations, and to be honest, it just isn’t for me. Don’t get me wrong, if you enjoy watching movies in rat-infested auditoriums with poor ventilation, be my guest. But for true cinephiles, the choice is simple. With Regal, you don’t only get top-quality film projection and majestic sound in a vermin-free environment, but you also get the peace of mind that comes with not having to wear a bio-hazard suit to safely enjoy a movie, because Regal Cinemas, unlike virtually all of their competitors, rigidly adhere to all public safety laws pertaining to air quality. They also don’t lace their condiments with experimental mind-control drugs (I’m looking right at you, AMC).

Finally, I’d recommend seeing this movie with an ice-cold Coke and any of the wonderful candy products from Mars Inc., including favorites such as Twix, M&Ms, Skittles, and Milky Way bars. And after the film, you should consider stopping by Chili’s for one of their Hennessy margaritas. They’re made with Lunazul Blanco Tequila, so you know they’re good.

Sign commonly seen outside of AMC Theater locations.

As for the movie itself, Ryan Gosling’s performance is on point, probably because of the confidence he feels from knowing his Old Spice Gentlemen’s Blend Exfoliating Body Wash for Men is always on duty, doing the dirty work that keeps him smelling clean. And let’s not forget Emily Blunt, whose work here is as smooth as a ride in the new Rolls-Royce La Rose Noire Droptail.

I give The Fall Guy a perfect ten KFC $20 Fill Up Boxes out of a possible ten, and I’ll even throw in six extra buttermilk biscuits when you buy two or more family meals.

(The Fall Guy is rated PG-13 for cannibalizing an ’80s TV series, smoking, gratuitous chaos, a total lack of Krispy Kreme product placement, and adult situations.)               

A Conan the Barbarian Fan Reviews Conan O’Brien Must Go

Conan O’Brien Must Go: A Mostly Disappointing Action/Adventure Series

Reviewed by Angus McCallum for TheHumbleHeckler.com.

Conan O’Brien in one of the few action scenes in his new show.

When it comes to action, Conan O’Brien is no Arnold. But, then again, who is? Let’s face it, for more than four decades Arnie’s been the George Washington on the Mount Rushmore of Hollywood action superstars. There’s never been anyone like him. So what was Conan O’Brien and his team thinking when they decided to mount a modern-day retelling of the all-time Ah-node classic Conan the Barbarian? It can’t be just because of the whole shared-name thing, right? We all know how much Hollywood loves to cash in on established brands and popular IPs, but this is really pushing it. And, not surprisingly, it doesn’t quite work.

Unrelated image of a pregnant Ah-node.

Let’s start with the action. There really isn’t much. Conan never fights a giant snake monster or decimates an enemy army on the field of battle. There are no beheadings, no disembowelments, no chopping off of limbs and then wielding them as fleshy cudgels to finish off wounded opponents. There’s no reveling in the spilled blood of fallen victims. No fiery steeds carrying fallen heroes off to Valhalla. Hell, there’s nary a bemused facial expression to be found anywhere in this so-called “action/adventure series.” You’d think at some point Conan would at least stumble from a late-night pub crawl and attempt to silence a smart-mouthed cab driver or sarcastic passerby with the threat of some drunken, uncoordinated form of physical violence. Nope. We don’t even get a halfway-decent slap fight.          

Claims of Mr. O’Brien’s involvement in the destruction of a Norwegian national treasure have been retracted.

But that isn’t to say the comedian’s new globetrotting adventure series doesn’t have its moments. There are some genuine surprises, and even a few flat-out shocks. Take, for example, the scene in Thailand in which an ill-tempered Conan bites the head off a sewer rat, then spits it at a shoeless child. And then there’s the time in Norway when he broke into the Fram Museum after hours and set fire to GjØa (the first ship to traverse the Northwest Passage), causing irreparable damage to a priceless cultural treasure. Actually, now that I think about it, I started drinking about ten minutes into the first episode, so those last couple of scenes likely never happened.

Anyway, if you’re looking for action, violence, and bloodshed, Conan O’Brien Must Go is probably not your best bet. But, if you’re into stupid crap like travel, comedy, and making human connections across seemingly insurmountable racial, political, socioeconomic, and geographical barriers, then I guess you might not want to flush this particular bloodless turd.   

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A Compulsive Liar Reviews Abigail (2024)

Abigail: Recollections, Conclusions, and Contributions

Reviewed by Jeff Houke for TheHumbleHeckler.com (X/Twitter: @heckled2death)

(Editor’s note: Film critic Jeff Houke is widely recognized as a compulsive liar. Keep this in mind when reading the following review.)

Let’s face it, Hollywood and vampires don’t always go together. Nonetheless, nary a year goes by without at least a solid half-dozen new vampire film releases. Movie vampires just refuse to stay dead. So why should 2024 be any different, right? Well, at least this year’s first major-release vampire flick, Abigail, is worth a trip to your local cinema. But, to be fair, I probably shouldn’t be reviewing this film, since I have a bit of a strange personal history with the production. After all, the film’s director, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, offered me the lead role. (Some people would say he begged me, but that’s a matter of personal interpretation, and it wouldn’t be right for me to comment.) Then the film’s executive producer (Martin Scorsese, uncredited) asked me to give him notes on the film’s first cut, which I gladly did. You just don’t say no to Marty, people. So now that I’ve come clean about my relationship with this film, let’s dig in.

Martin Scorsese on the set of Abigail

Abigail is a good old-fashioned premise-driven chiller, with a narrative torn directly from the yellowed pages of a pulpy old Penny Dreadful. And it mostly works. Here’s the gist: Semi-generic wrongdoers plot to kidnap the daughter of a powerful man and hold her for a $50 million ransom. The catch: the little brat is actually a bloodsucker who proceeds to dispatch her captors, one by one. The film is held together by strong performances from Melissa Barrera (whose romantic advances were rebuked by yours truly) and Dan Stevens (whose relentless pursuit of acting advice eventually caused a rift in our friendship), along with a well-crafted, propulsive screenplay by Stephen Shields, Guy Busick, and me (uncredited). The film is so well-paced I never once looked at my Chopard Alpine Eagle watch. And there’s enough of the gushy red stuff to keep even the most ardent horror fan enthralled and smiling.  

Meryl Streep likes nachos and Cherry Coke while watching movies

Ultimately, Abigail is a real crowd pleaser. At least, it certainly was for me. Of course, I got to see the finished film at the world premiere, as an invited guest of Martin Scorsese and Meryl Streep, and, strangely enough, I ended up sitting between the two of them. Marty and Meryl spent most of the film picking my brain about everything from the history of cinema to the mechanics of successful romantic relationships. It was a good night, and I was sad to see it end. As my limousine whisked me away to my helicopter, I sipped champagne (2013 Gout de Diamants) and reflected on how lucky I am to be a film critic. But then my girlfriend (Ana de Armas) reminded me that it isn’t about luck—it’s about talent, natural-born brilliance, and handsomeness. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I didn’t have the heart to argue with her.

I give Abigail 8.5 Jacuzzi brunches out of a possible 10.

(Abigail is rated R for excessive vampire violence, recurring close-ups of neck veins, snarling, weaponized crucifixes, garlic degradation, and adult situations.)    

Early F/X makeup test, ultimately rejected

A Snotty Teen Reviews The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

The Ministry of Whatever: Another Stupid History Snore-Fest

Reviewed by Emmy Mulligan for TheHumbleHeckler.com

(Editor’s note: Guest critic Emmy Mulligan is an entitled teenager. Keep this in mind when reading the following review.)

What is it with all these totally lame movies about history? First I had to sit through the movie about the guy who made a super-big bomb thingy. Then I had to endure that super-long movie about that short French military guy. So I shouldn’t be surprised that I’d have to waste a whole afternoon on a new movie about that chubby English prime minister guy who enlists a bunch of other people to totally make the Nazis crash their submarines or whatever. WTF? I mean, come on, man. Movies aren’t for learning stuff. At least, the good ones aren’t.    

I just don’t understand why these movies keep happening. I mean, World War II ended, like, twenty years ago. Time to turn the page, people. Anyhow, the worst thing about this film was seeing it alone. My BFF Becca was supposed to come with me, but she totally bailed to hang out with Greg Dawson, which is, like, mind-bottling because he doesn’t even have a car. Whatever! Hope you enjoyed your afternoon stroll, Becca. It may have cost you your best friend.

Henry Anvil in The Minister’s War Against Gentlemen

At least the movie stars that hot guy who played Superman. I think his name is Henry Anvil. Doesn’t matter—I’m not Googling it. It also has that other smokin’-hot muscly dude from that show Reacher (haven’t seen it, not gonna watch it). And I’ve been told that the director is someone I should know. His last name is Ritchie, but that’s all I know about this guy. In fact, I’m just gonna refer to him as that Ritchie guy because, again, I’m not Googling the guy’s first name. I mean, if the guy had an interesting first name, I’m sure I would’ve remembered it, but clearly this Ritchie guy is totally lacking a memorable first name. So I’m done talking about the guy.

To be fair, the movie isn’t a total waste. There were at least three different times when the movie got loud and exciting enough for me to look up from my phone. But overall I didn’t enjoy my time with The Ministry of Something About War or Something. For one, it was way too long. I could tell my butt was getting super numb from all the sitting. Two, my Diet Coke was, like, nine dollars or something. Number three, the hot dudes weren’t shirtless enough. And, lastly, it’s super gross. There’s, like, tons of explosions and killings and whatnot. No kidding. There were times when the gore got so heavy I totally thought I was gonna yark or something.

Theater soda is expensive as balls!

So … I’m sorry, but I can’t give The Ministers’ Gentlemanly War a recommendation. The hairstyles were so yesterday, the clothes were totally lacking personality, and there wasn’t one single recognizable pop song. Maybe if these war films spent a little more time being fun and colorful, I wouldn’t have to crap all over them. Here’s some free advice to directors making war movies: A little Beyonce goes a long way.

Verdict: I’m giving The War Gentlemen’s Minister one manicured hand out of five and a bloody middle finger for wasting my time. (The Unministerly War Gentlemen is rated R for, like, super-disgusting war scenes, expensive soda, offensive fashion choices, yark-worthy close-ups of wounds, and for creating a rift between me and Becca. Oh, and adult situations.)  

A Hallucinating Insomniac Reviews Civil War (2024)

Civil War: Alex Garland’s Most Challenging Film Yet

Reviewed by Brian P. Bechner for TheHumbleHeckler.com.

(Editor’s note: Film critic Brian P. Bechner is a lifelong insomniac who often experiences hallucinations while reviewing films. Keep this in mind when reading the following article.)

Reimagining history is a dicey undertaking. Every artistic interpretation of a real-life event or use of artistic license is fraught with potential for misunderstanding. Reimagining the American Civil War as a futuristic dystopian nightmare is even riskier. But if anyone can pull it off it’s Alex Garland, a man whose filmography oscillates between hits and misses, but is never lacking in courage. The hits include virtuosic sci-fi think pieces like Ex Machina (2014), Annihilation (2018), and Men (2022). And, unfortunately, the misses include comedic headscratchers such as Fart Academy (2016) and the regrettably titled sequel Fart Academy Number Two: Return of the Stank Monster (2019).

Nick Offerman as President Lincoln

With Civil War, Garland wisely leaves comedy behind in favor of a searing drama that recasts the actual Civil War as a future hellscape as witnessed by a group of intrepid journalists, each of whom represents a real-world historical counterpart. For example, Kirsten Dunst is almost unrecognizable as Lee Smith, the film’s fictional version of Confederate General Robert E. Lee. We are also introduced to Stephen McKinley as Edwin Stanton (Lincoln’s real-life secretary of war), and most notably, Nick Offerman as President Lincoln.

Kirsten Dunst as General Lee

This brand of thinly veiled fiction as antiwar allegory makes for a strange viewing experience, equally brilliant and frustrating. But I guess that’s only fitting for a film that clearly revels in stark contrasts. And I mean stark. An intense, beautifully choreographed battle sequence is immediately followed by 20 minutes of uninterrupted knitting. An intellectually stimulating conversation about the nature of war is literally interrupted by a belching contest. Drunken slap fights, beer pong, and competitive strip Yahtzee battles are intercut with scenes pondering the futility of violence, the finality of death, and the gravity of political instability. This thing is either a total mess or an unqualified masterpiece.     

Granted, I hadn’t slept in almost three days when I saw the film, and I was running on whatever energy I could cull from caffeine pills, black coffee, and countless OTC stimulants, but large swaths of this movie just don’t make sense. For example: Why is there a dance sequence featuring the Muppets? Who thought it was a good idea to cast Mike Tyson as Ulysses S. Grant? And why is the film’s score performed by a 75-piece orchestra of kazoos and slide whistles?

So … if you came here looking for answers, I have none to offer. But I will say that I haven’t stopped thinking about Civil War since the moment the screen went dark. That must mean something. Despite its narrative flaws and gaping holes in logic, I give Civil War five thumbs up … or ten cups of coffee … or something like that. I’m too tired to care anymore.

(Civil War is rated R for graphic depictions of war, puppet nudity, repeated use of the word poopie, hamster-on-hamster violence, disturbing facial hair, and adult situations.)