My dears, I return after far too long away to report on the movie San Andreas, a film that features the destruction (again) of California (mostly San Francisco) and Dwayne Johnson’s titty muscles in about equal parts. Mr. Johnson’s chesticles are well worth spending the time with and the earthquake/tsunami destruction is most charming, although whenever the “actors” slowed down to deliver the “dialogue,” things really hit a rough patch. The sight of Johnson effortlessly boating about in a debris flooded financial district was worth the price of admission all by itself.
Equally amusing was the lighthearted attitude the movie makers took towards San Francisco geography. Characters start out on one side of downtown, emerge seconds later clear on the other side of town and then announce they have to go to Chinatown to casually loot an electronics store because, I don’t know, there weren’t any downtown? I’ll never know why because they then decide to take a walking tour of the most inaccessible hills around here, part of which included a jaunt up Russian Hill, completely off any sensible route, but coincidentally right outside of a building I used to live in. “Hey I used to live there! Cool, huh?” What better review could a film ask for?
Also Dwayne Johnson and his mantitties, in order to get to Coit Tower, parachute into the ball park, which is about as far from Coit Tower as you can get without leaving town. Why? Who knows? I had stopped trying to figure that out by then and they hadn’t even wiped out Golden Gate Bridge yet, an absolute requirement in any San Francisco based disaster; you just sit there waiting for it to finally happen. I have to say, having seen the bridge go down more times than a power bottom in a gay porn festival, this was a particularly satisfying collapse.
Also, Dwayne Johnson in a series of tight shirts.
When we lived in Miami I used to rage about films that “took place” in the city but the people were always driving the wrong way to get somewhere.
And I’m talking to you “Birdcage.”
LikeLike
exactly. “Where are they? Where are they going?” It makes the movie more participatory.
LikeLike
They just want to have terrific shooting locations. Who bothers with logistics? They filmed the upcoming Stonewall in Canada. Why would you use the ACTUAL location? All in all, San Andreas sounds like a production worthy of Irwin Allen. Minus Fred Astaire and Ava Gardner in exchange for the ROCK!
LikeLike
I think the Rock is the Ava Gardner of our time.
LikeLike
Why let mere geographical facts stand in the way of a good story (and chesticles).
LikeLike
You cannot make titties like those out of CGI.
LikeLike
Yay! You’re back! The hell with geography.
LikeLike
I never left, I’ve been right here. Ask Saki.
LikeLike
You know, I’m not sure I’ve ever thought of you as watching movies where everyone wears pants…
LikeLike
Turns out pants are just overrated.
LikeLike
My knickers are drenched!
LikeLike
And well they should be. That man looks as god as he did twenty years ago. I think it’s proof he’s in league with the devil.
LikeLike