Sometimes I can’t resist. I try to stay away from more esoteric movies or things I think people won’t really like, but sometimes it’s just like “OMG. Bubba Ho-Tep, y’all!!”

I feel like Bubba Ho-Tep must have started out life as a joke. It’s far too preposterous to be a real movie, let alone one that you could watch instantly in the privacy of your own living room. The Premise: Elvis Presley (the real Elvis) switched places with an impersonator, so he’s still alive and living in a rundown rest home in Texas. His best friend is an elderly black man who believes he is JFK (the film is unclear as to whether this is actually the case or not). Together they team up to fight a mummy.

I know, it already sounds like the best movie you’ve ever seen. But wait! JFK is played by Ossie Davis, one of the most distinguished African-American actors to have lived; someone who knew Martin Luther King Jr. AND delivered the eulogy at Malcolm X’s funeral. Elvis is played by Bruce Campbell, arguably the most beloved cult actor of our time, an incredibly gifted physical comedian, and author of the wildly entertaining “If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor.”

It’s nerd-vana. Even writing this now, I have a hard time believing that this film is actually real.

The worst thing I can say about Bubba Ho-Tep is that occasionally it shows the limitations of its obviously meager budget. But director Don Coscarelli and his cast are so committed to this insane idea, that it makes the little film a lot of film. It is a horror film at heart, so bear that in mind if you’re squeamish. 

What’s most impressive to me is that the film actually has something to say. Bubba Ho-Tep is a ridiculous comedic horror film, but it also speaks about how we treat American icons once they’re relegated to the dustbin of history. It seems crazy to refer to a film about Elvis and JFK fighting a mummy as “bittersweet,” but there you have it. Check out Bubba Ho-Tep.

First, let me say this. I hated Drive.

HOWEVER…

It seems crazy to me that this film isn’t popping up at the top of my “Newly Released” or “Newly Added” queue on Netflix Instant. As I’ve said before, I am a fan of Netflix for the David & Goliath struggle they’re engaged in, but they have to get it together.

Drive was one of the best-reviewed and most talked-about films of 2011. Why isn’t it showing up right away? Why isn’t Netflix sending us emails delighting in the fact that they can offer it to us? Why did I stumble across it, maybe 15th in a list of thriller movies because I was bored last night.

So I’m offering this post as a wary glimpse of the problems that Netflix is facing. Like I said, I personally don’t recommend Drive. But if you want to see it, now you can! A lot of people and critics that I know and respect loved it, so clearly the problem is with me!

To my mind it was empty-headed, pretentious, sexist, and full of style that, quite frankly, wasn’t even that great. Any Michael Mann film has late-night driving scenes that are more sexy and avant-garde (well, except for Last of the Mohicans). I feel like if Drive had starred someone other than Ryan Gosling, it wouldn’t have gotten half the attention it did, and not because he’s particularly good in the film (he’s fine, but he can only do so much with a terrible script), but because he’s the current meme heartthrob. Albert Brooks is great, yes. But any movie that manages to waste Bryan Cranston and Ron Perlman is committing a crime against casting. 

Ugh! I hate this movie! And I hate that Netflix is so bungled that it buries a movie that a lot of people want to see way down in its search engine. But maybe that’s just how it was for me - if Drive popped up at the top of your suggested or newly released sections, let me know! In the meantime, I’ll be watching old episodes of the Rockford Files.

An awful lot has happened to Wilco in the ten years since the release of this documentary. They’ve released numerous albums, done side projects, played huge venues, staged their own music & arts festival, and become one of the world’s most respected touring groups. They even had to cope with the death of co-founder Jay Bennett in 2009.

For me, I still like Wilco a lot, but I don’t love them the way I used to. The new songs just don’t grab me, and maybe that’s my fault as much as anything. I’ve always enjoyed the hard-rocking Wilco more than the other incarnations, including experimental, noise-rock, quietly folky, and current NPR-friendly. And while there’s nothing wrong with being NPR-friendly, it’s hard to imagine the screaming noise of “Misunderstood” or the ragged edges of “Shot in the Arm” playing on All Things Considered.

But as I said, these are my issues, and fortunately “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” captures Wilco during perhaps the most eventful period of their existence. The documentary encapsulates the recording of their game-changing album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (and the genre-pushing experimentalism that went with it), their subsequent battle with Warner Bros records over the release of the album, and Jay Bennett leaving the band for good. I’m not one of those people who believe that the band was better with Bennett; that’s an oversimplification and the band’s current touring lineup is amazingly strong. But Bennett is an agreeably anarchic presence, and it’s great to see him engage and confront Jeff Tweedy, whether it’s in the studio or onstage.

The film’s gorgeous black and white photography is suitably evocative of the music Wilco is making, and while it’s not a game-changer on the level of DA Pennebaker’s profiles of Bob Dylan, it’s an interesting look at the music industry and a band at a moment of crisis, and how one Chicago band managed to succeed on their own terms. 

Also, the live footage kicks ass.

This’ll be a short entry. If you haven’t seen Groundhog Day, start watching it right now.

If you have seen it, then the only question is, is it one of the best Bill Murray movies, or THE BEST Bill Murray movie? My money’s on the latter…there’s no better vehicle for Murray’s sardonic, world-weary bitterness than to be forced to relive the same day over and over.

This is a movie I have specifically wanted to watch and was previously disappointed to find wasn’t on Netflix Instant. Now it is, which means we can all watch it over and over and over again.

For years it seemed like the biggest struggle with art was our conception of it. If someone chose to put a frame around something, it became “art,” even while that was a tough concept for the world to swallow. When Marcel Duchamp wrote “R. Mutt” on a toilet and submitted it to a show, it’s easy to assume that he was making a statement that anything could be art.

Graffiti & performance art rails against even that most basic of ideas. Its very nature as a temporary medium places a value on ownership and identity. That, coupled with issues of legality and the trickiness of turning street art & posters into commodified goods, means that the art world has been in a period of massive transition over the past fifteen years. And then along comes Banksy and “Exit Through the Gift Shop.”

It’s hard to discuss this film in depth if you haven’t seen it. And if you haven’t seen it, I urge you to do so right away, and with as little foreknowledge as possible. 

In brief, the film starts out as a portrait of graffiti artists around the world, as captured on video camera by obsessive, slightly crazy Thierry Guetta, a French man living in Los Angeles. Guetta gains the trust of these underground figures, including luminaries Shepard Fairey and British artist Banksy, who directs the film. It then moves on to some truly fascinating and culturally damning experiences.

As a brief aside to people who have seen the film (if you haven’t seen it, don’t read any further, just fire up Netflix), I know the major obsession with people about this film is whether it’s real or not. Which to me is disingenuous and kind of misses the whole point. First, an internet search shows that the Mr. Brainwash shows did happen and got massive acclaim and turnout. And the fact that there’s been very little fallout for him after the film debuted (Mr. Brainwash still does commissions, shows, and new work) suggests that even if it was a hoax, it would be impossible to sustain.

In recent years, movie culture has become obsessed with “is it real” questions, or “what does it all mean” fixations. Is Exit Through the Gift Shop real? What does the last shot of Inception mean? And so on. There’s no room for ambiguity, or for trusting an artist’s vision. 

Let’s spend less time obsessing  over “being fooled,” and more time enjoying and exploring the ideas that the film does suggest. After all, Banksy admits at the end of the film that the joke’s on him, because he never imagined Mr. Brainwash would become such a huge hit. If he’s fooling us, he fooled himself too.

I remember not being particularly excited when Punch-Drunk Love came out in theaters. I didn’t like Adam Sandler that much and I had mixed feelings about Paul Thomas Anderson (Magnolia has good parts but Boogie Nights still leaves me cold). I went to see it mainly because I worked at a movie theater and could get in for free.

BAM! This movie knocked me out of my chair!

Right from its startling, inspired opening sequence, Paul Thomas Anderson declares that he is not making a traditional romantic comedy. Nor is he making a twee indie romance. This is a new kind of film, one that aims to use all the elements of filmmaking to communicate just how exciting, unsettling, delirious, and uncomfortable it can be to fall in love. No roses & musical montages here; just stammering, fits of violence and confusion, and two people who are attracted to each other for reasons even they don’t understand.

Adam Sandler is also terrific in his first dramatic role. In other movies like Funny People he leans on his comedic skills to get him through the film, but here he barely cracks a smile, let alone a joke. His performance is all anxiety and coiled rage. As the owner of a novelty business, he shows no sign of knowing how to communicate with people, and his attempts to reach out to others are met mainly with sadness and aggression.

The direction of the film is so assured, it still amazes me. Anderson makes big choices with cinematography and sound design that are risky, but to my mind they pay off. The rest of the actors are right in tune with this offbeat rhythm; Emily Watson is perfect as Sandler’s object of affection, and the great character actors Mary Lynn Rajskub, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Luis Guzman round out the cast.

At times, Punch Drunk Love feels more like a film noir or thriller than anything else. It’s a big crazy film about the excitement and fear of falling in love and it’s one of the most original American films in decades.

I got back from a terrible craft fair experience to find a delightful surprise in my “New Releases” Netflix section: Bob’s Burgers!

Created by Loren Bouchard, one of the creators and producers of the beloved Dr. Katz and Home Movies, Bob’s Burgers features a murderer’s row of comedic voice talent, great writing, and a funny subversive commentary on American life. Also, tons of burger jokes and non-sequiturs. 

H. Jon Benjamin, arguably the best comedic voice actor since Dan Castellanata, leads the cast as Bob, with his wife played by John Roberts, and children by Dan Mintz and the amazing Kristen Schaal and Eugene Mirman. Unlike most other animated shows, the cast records episodes with everyone in the same room which allows for incredible timing and improv between the cast. Jon Benjamin can communicate more with a pause than almost any other actor, while Schaal dominates the rest of the cast with her hyperactive, screaming child character.

At its best, Bob’s Burgers combines humor and sincere affection better than almost any animated TV show since the Simpsons’ heyday. Must-see episodes include Sexy Dance Fighting and Art Crawl. 

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! That was my reaction on seeing that this, my favorite Billy Wilder film, favorite Kirk Douglas film, and one of my top favorite films of all time, was now available on Netflix Instant. This is one of the weird vagaries of the Netflix system, and a reason why it pays to keep checking as their inventory is constantly changing and refreshing. Anyway…

I think Billy Wilder is one of the best directors to ever work in Hollywood; despite not having a consistent visual style, his films are some of the best-written, best-acted, and true to life of any Hollywood movies. He co-wrote all of his films, despite being born in Austria. His best work includes biting satires, film noir, comedy, and bittersweet romance. Ace in the Hole falls firmly in the cynical drama category.

After making Sunset Boulevard in 1950 (an endlessly imitated masterpiece well worth watching), Wilder apparently felt that this cold-hearted Hollywood satire was too cheery for him, and followed it with this grim, ahead-of-its-time film about news media and sensationalism. The basic plot follows Kirk Douglas as a washed-up newspaperman working for a small paper in New Mexico. Douglas stumbles upon a great human interest story, a man trapped in a cave where he can talk to others but can’t be pulled out immediately without being crushed. Once the story gains national interest, Douglas conspires with the town Sheriff, politicians, and the man’s wife to prolong the poor guy’s rescue so he can extend the story for a national exclusive.

It’s grim and it only gets grimmer, yet it’s full of observed bits of black comedy (the trapped guy’s wife commenting that she doesn’t go to church because “kneeling bags my nylons”) and social commentary. It’s a knee-jerk reaction to say that a film is prescient, but more than Network or any other media commentary film, Ace in the Hole is a perfect, bleak snapshot of where “news” goes wrong.

Kirk Douglas gives a charged, frothing performance that utilizes his famous physicality in the service of psychological menace. The rest of the supporting cast is tops too, and while it’s not a happy movie, it’s one that’s still hugely entertaining thanks to Wilder’s pitch-perfect direction and the use of real New Mexico locations. 

Ace in the Hole might not be my favorite movie of all time, but whenever someone asks me that question, it’s one of the first films that leaps into my head. Check it out tonight!

After the day-glo candy colors of RuPaul’s Drag Race, here’s a somber black and white white film to cleanse your palette. After the globe-trotting and (somewhat) crowd-pleasing indie sensibilities of 1991’s Night on Earth, Jim Jarmusch focused his energies on a hypnotic, grainy western starring Johnny Depp that manages to be both hyper-realistic and supremely stylized. From its stunning opening sequence on a train (featuring a Crispin Glover cameo), Dead Man announces that this is more visual and visceral than any of Jarmusch’s other works.

Dead Man is a divisive film; people either love it passionately (more than one person I know think it’s both Jim Jarmusch & Johnny Depp’s best film) or think it’s slow and very boring. To me it’s one of the best tone-poems in cinema history. Neil Young’s repetitive, evocative electric guitar score rumbles and thunders along as we watch a landscape drift by on horseback. The plot, such as it is, involves an Eastern fop (played by Depp long before his Pirates of the Carribbean comeback) who arrives in a mining town and quickly becomes caught up in murder before going on the run with a potentially fatal gunshot wound. Led by Gary Farmer across the Northwest, the film runs across bounty hunters & trackers and features amazing performances and cameos from Iggy Pop, Billy Bob Thornton, and Robert Mitchum in his final, glorious role. It also incorporates moments of grotesque violence, but does so in a way that tells us something about the time and the environment of the film (unlike other deconstructionist movies where violence is simply gratuitous — Drive, I’m looking at you). 

It’s been called a Postmodern Western, and I suppose that’s apt. But while I love a lot of Jarmusch’s other films, this is something entirely different. There’s an indefinable spirit to Dead Man, a perfect melding of actor, director, cinematography, and score that creates moments of pure transcendence in this strangely funny and bleak film. 

“There are only two types of people in this world, fans of Drag Race and people who haven’t seen Drag Race.” - Genevieve Koski, The AV Club.

In retrospect, the concept is so simple it’s brilliant: take a group of men whose passion in life is dressing up extravagantly and being melodramatic and put them on TV in a reality show competition. Sold! But while Drag Race could have simply been a campy America’s Next Top Model knockoff, RuPaul and her creative team take it into the stratosphere, delivering a conscious deconstruction and satire of reality shows. Ru’s emphasis on ridiculous, repeated catchphrases, the show’s playfulness with the form, the Emmy-worthy editing of reaction shots, and the overall tone make this the most singularly entertaining reality show I’ve ever seen.

The format is a standard reality show fare: 12 contestants, different challenges, teams, judges, etc. But the spin that Drag Race puts on these familiar elements is what makes it truly a work of art. At the end of every elimination, RuPaul has the two lowest-ranked performers “lip-sync…for your life.” 

At its best, RuPaul’s Drag Race has the feeling of a fever dream. Shirtless black men dressed as union soldiers with bayonets while drag queens straddle a cannon in full makeup? Yup. Hallucinogenic scenes involving the girls acting out scenes from a campy sci-fi movie?* Why not? A challenge involving the contestants singing live to a rock band where Henry Rollins is a guest judge? Absolutely! And you know what - I’ve never seen Henry Rollins enjoy himself so much. The perpetual grump looked delighted to be there, and who wouldn’t? I know I’m delighted to watch this show and recite its endlessly repeatable catchphrases. Now will someone please put “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?” on a t-shirt!?

*On a sidenote, I’m always surprised that some of the contestants are terrible in the acting challenges. Wouldn’t you naturally pick up some acting chops in a setting as performance-based as the drag world?