So what have I been doing in the two weeks since I last wrote here? Well, if you read my last post, you probably have a pretty good idea of where I was and what I was doing, but I suppose some sort of follow up is order. So I’ll address my latest activities in a wholly arbitrary manner selected only to assert my editorial dominance.

First of all, I’m working full time (plus some) and, surprisingly, it takes more effort to write up a blog post after a day spent writing than it does after a day of doing nothing. I’m going to stick by my decision to not write about my job, suffice to say that it’s going well and I’m slowly getting back into the groove of writing news stories on a regular basis.

As a result of this, my long-gestating Phase II of the “I Hate Peter Travers” project will have to wait until I find the time/motivation to finish designing the website. Sorry to all those waiting on the IPO.

In fact, the only other writing I’ve been doing lately has been some PR stuff I did for my good friend and technological consultant, Paul Rausch, owner of Greenwire IT. Since I get a lot of hits from Florida, I figure it’s worth giving him an extra plug here as well. If you’re anywhere in the Southwest Florida Area, I cannot recommend this man enough. He helped me set up this site, and I’m willing to bet that he’s one of the only IT guys in the world who can set up your computer, cook you a delicious meal and educate you on the undertones of racism that fueled the Franco-Prussian war at the same time. And do it in your choice of four languages.

But since I’m now working full time in a town 30 minutes away, I also had to make my epic 1500+ mile road trip from Fort Myers to Boston, by way of Washington, DC. The first 1000 or so was done in one straight shot, by the end of which I was no longer able to hold a clear thought in my head. I was basically focusing everything on driving, especially during hour 14 when I was cruising through Richmond alongside every trucker on 95. Good Times.

By the way, Washington, DC is an awful driving city. I already hated rotaries, and I did not need to deal with DuPont circle after 16 hours on the highway.

I also got a chance to head up to Baltimore to see the Rays take on the Orioles. I was, of course, dissapointed to see the Rays lose, but Evan Longoria hit two home runs, so it was kind of worth it. Camden Yards is also the nicest stadium I’ve ever been to, especially with $6 admission on college night. To hell with all the tradition, they really need to rebuild Fenway so I can watch my out-of-town team in better comfort.

In other news, today was the Boston Marathon, which, in years past, would have meant drinking enough to make watching people run for hours interesting. Instead, I worked.

And finally, BU won the national championship. It was quite possibly the greatest single sporting event I’ve ever seen, much less attended. For those who don’t pay attention to such things, you missed out. Trailing 3-1 to Miami (Ohio) with a minute to go, the Terriers proceeded to rip of two goals, go into overtime, and win on as flukey a shot as I’ve ever seen. As is the custom around these parts I went out drinking in the same bar as the team after the game. Go me.

Fun fact: This was the fifth national championship won between UF and BU in the last four years. UF and BU also have two of the oldest registered .edu domain names on the internet (ufl.edu and bu.edu, respectively), and both were registered on the exact same day.

But as cool as it was to see BU win another National Championship, I feel like that weekend was the official end of my time at BU. Sure, I technically graduated back in May, but I was one of the only people I knew graduating. As far as I’m concerned, that was as much for my family than it was for me. But being in DC and seeing that game with all my friends gave as good a sense of closure as I could ever expect to get from college. I’m ready to move on now.

In the words of Roger Murtaugh, I’m getting too old for this shit.

So my plan last week was to fire up the way-back machine and do my thing with Peter Travers’ zero-star review of Bad Boys II, arguably the second greatest Henry Rollins movie of all time. I ran into a slight hitch when I realized that, for a movie he considers to be in the category of all time worst movies, Peter really didn’t have that much to say about it. Not that I have anything against recycling jokes, as my running commentary on the awkward sexual tension of his Watchmen review should indicate, but there wasn’t much for me to talk about except  the irony of the most bombastic film-reviewer of all time hating a movie for being too bombastic.

So this week I’m delving into his review of I Love You, Man, the Rudd and Segal buddy movie that came out last week. Nobody’s ever accused me of punctuality.

You know the drills. Words after the jump:

Here’s the thing about comedies: Even when the script is freighted with formula, the right actors can keep it afloat, even airborne.

Apparently even writers for major entertainment publications are allowed to mix metaphors now. I’d probably be less bitter if I had a similarly cushy job, but I don’t, so I’m not.

In a down market for giggles (Miss March? Please!), Paul Rudd and Jason Segel are howlingly funny.

Quick, somebody get Geithner on the line. Giggles need a bailout!

They have skills.

True story. Peter Travers once saw the two of them build a campfire out of all the excess money they made by doing the exact same movie every six months.

They can get laughs without the sitcom pimping.

Is there a pimp sitcom out there I don’t know about? If not, Fox needs to get on that right away.

By the way, Jason Segel stars in the sitcom “How I Met Your Mother.” Just saying.

It’s a rare gift, staying hilarious and recognizably human.

Yes, rare is the gift that allows these two humans to continue to be recognized as humans while being hilarious. Personally, I’m hilarious, but I tend to look more like a North American Grizzly when I do it.

Their presence and ace comic timing kick the movie up a notch.

You know what? I totally missed that fact that Peter Travers decided to open with a lightning round. In a five-line dual-knob slob-off, Peter travers has managed to say absolutely nothing of value, which I guess is a win for him.

Director John Hamburg (Along Came Polly), who teamed on the script with Seinfeld writer Larry Levin, hangs the plot on a flimsy premise: A dude with no dude friends needs a dude to be best man at his wedding.

Look, I use dude to open pretty much every third sentence I say. I’m tired of my lifestyle being mercilessly persecuted by these out of touch wind bags who don’t understand my cultural upbringing, man.

Never mind that the needy dude, tightly wound L.A. realtor Peter Klaven (Rudd), has a brother, Robbie (Andy Samberg), who could easily do the job.

This is what passes for analysis in a Peter Travers movie. Christ, he’s the kind of guy who watches Law & Order and feels smart for guessing that the wife did it, isn’t he?

That would leave no reason to get Peter out on man dates.

Two things: First, whoever it was that came up with the term “man date” and chuckled about the fact that it sounds like another word, despite the lack of any kind of related double entendre, should be deported to Slovakia. Second, does he seem a little too insistant that Peter go on these man dates, or am I really just reading way too much into this?

That’s right, Peter’s fiancée, Zooey (a sparky Rashida Jones) — whose girl network is so in the loop they know precisely the first time Peter went oral on Zooey (“Lock that tongue down, girl”) — encourages the poor schnook to go out and find a best buddy.

A Google Image search for Schnook, which apparently means a stupid or gullible person, similar to a “dolt.” It takes mere seconds to google a word to find out if it sucks, by the way.

After several disastrous tries, including a gay close encounter, the search ends with Sydney Fife (Segel). Sydney is Peter’s polar opposite, a likable slob who holes up in a Venice Beach man cave stuffed with porn and video games

Let’s see: gay close encounter…pole…slob…holes…man cave…stuffed…porn.

Sydney has a comfort level inside his own skin that Peter never dreamed possible.

Jesus Christ. Peter Travers is actually writing I Love You, Man slash fiction.

Without ever infringing on Brokeback territory, Sydney is man enough to make Zooey jealous.

Just a little late there, buddy. I think you’ve already “infringed” all over Brokeback’s “territory.”

And that’s it. That’s all. It’s the variations that Rudd and Segel spin on this theme that make the movie hugely enjoyable.

Right, because that line couldn’t be used whenever these guys do the exact same thing every six months.

There’s no one better than Rudd at putting an affable face on awkwardness.

Woody Allen is so pissed off right now.

it’s always Peter who drops the ball.

Yes, it is always Peter who drops the ball. It’s nice when he writes my side for me.

Cool is always just out of Peter’s reach

I’m just going to pop out and grab a coffee. Anyone else want one?

It’s a passion for Rush (the band puts in a surprise appearance) that bonds Peter and Sydney.

Surprise? Well, not any more. Way to drop the ball Peter.

Segel has a ball playing the other side of the inhibited musician he wrote for himself in the underrated Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

Well, Rotten Tomatoes, Metacritic and imbd all have Forgetting Sarah Marshall rated pretty highly. I guess that’s good for a movie that sucked, but remind me again what “underrated” means?

He also lets you in on the loneliness that’s eating at this free spirit.

Yet another sneak peek at Peter’s upcoming romance novel, Travers of the Night.

Jaime Pressly is terrific as Zooey’s BFF. Her battles with Jon Favreau, excellent as her blowhard husband, have genuine comic bite.

Honestly, I don’t know what “genuine comic bite” means, so I’m just going to let it be.

The movie goes soft in its final stages

Lest anyone think I’m out to paint Peter Travers as some kind of sexual deviant, bear in mind that he actually wrote that.

“Sweet, sweet hangin’,” says Peter of knowing Sydney. The same goes for the movie.

That’s it? Honestly, if Rolling Stone gave me any money at all, I’d be willing to invest the minute and a half it would take to come up with a better ending line than that.

Quick programming note: At some point in the next month or so, I’m hoping to spin this feature off into its own website at www.ihatepetertravers.com (it currently redirects to a listing of posts tagged “I Hate Peter Travers”).  I’m looking for writers who can do posts in this same vein (hopefully directed at a wider range of bad critics) as well as people who are interested in doing actual movie reviews. If there’s anyone out there with an interest in getting in on the groundfloor of this non-lucrative enterprise, drop me an email at jon@seitzwrites.com.

Well, I promised you two editions as atonement (punishment?) for my laziness, so here you go. I started this one after I finished Milk yesterday, but I only finished it today. Sorry.

Believe it or not, I’ve actually seen Watchmen already, so we’ll see if that has any influence on how hard I rip into Peter Travers’ braindead bastard child of a review.

If anyone’s actually curious about the movie, it’s good, but that’s all I’ll give it. It’s not the great masterpiece that everyone hoped it’ll be. If I were ranking it on a totem pole of other comic book movies (and really, that’s all it is), tt’s probably on par with first two Spiderman movies. There are some big flaws in the filmmaking, but there’s a good chance that if you like the book that you won’t be too dissapointed by the result.

But if you’re like me, you probably don’t want to read the reviews until you’ve seen the movie. In that case, don’t go read Peter Travers’ review here, and don’t continue on past the jump for my comedic stylings:

Listen up, “Watchmen” virgins. I don’t care if you know squat about the orgasmically received 1987 graphic novel written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Dave Gibbons: It’s time to bust your cherry.

Look, we all know what he was going for here, but considering that the midnight showing I went to had no fewer than six people dressed as Rorschach, and a guy who literally “blue” himself to look like Dr. Manhattan to do backflips in front of the screen before the movie, “virgins” might not have been the ideal word to describe people who haven’t read the book. Furthermore, implying that the comic book brought people to orgasm is just gross. Besides, having an orgasm while reading a comic book does not mean that you have, in fact, busted your cherry.

Congratulations though. Two sentences in, this review already contains as much awkward, misplaced sexual tension as a junior high dance.

With its alternate universe of vigilante superheroes and power-crazed U.S. politicians heading for nuclear disaster, Watchmen took comic books to the next level as literature.

Fact: I enjoyed Watchmen the comic book. Another fact: the “next level” of literature above comic books is Stephen King.

Even if you don’t see Snyder’s version, which has its problems, it won’t kill you to peek at the comic book that Lost co-creator Damon Lindelof called “the greatest piece of popular fiction ever produced.”

There has to be someone else you could have cited here besides the one of the guys who created one of the most unneccesarily convoluted television series that I’ve never seen. Besides, what are the chances that the kind of person who would be influenced by what the co-creator of “Lost” has to say would not have already read the book?

As for you Watchmen junkies, enough with tearing down the movie before you even see it.

Yes. How dare you pass judgment on an adaptation of something that you love so much that the only rational comparison is to that of a smack addict.

Moore, soured by the Hollywood mangling of From Hell, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and V for Vendetta, has removed his good name from the credits. In the process, he has inadvertently inspired a band of rabid loyalists ready to shoot Snyder on sight.

Nothing like some unnecessary hyperbole to keep a Peter Travers’ review moving right along.

Sheesh. Whether the movie soars or tanks, it won’t make the comic book extinct. Get a grip.

And whether or not a bunch of fanboys love or hate the movie, it won’t make the movie extinct, or your review good.

Caught between the rock of fanboy adulation and the hard place of newbie indifference, the R-rated, nearly-three-hour movie version of Watchmen is a cinematic piñata getting whacked from every side.

Current awkward misplaced sexual tension level: Watching History of Violence with your grandparents.

One look at mutant physicist Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup), standing 200 feet, glowing with blue light and flashing a few yards of giant blue wiener, and you’ll think you’re in for the colossus of campfests.

Correction: Canteen Boy.

Or glom onto Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley), the vigilante in a white mask who shows a face of ever-changing ink blots, and you’ll think a popcorn night at the movies has morphed into a Rorschach test administered by a lethally sadistic shrink.

I’ll leave “glom” alone becuase it’s actually a cool word used correctly, if awkwardly. But don’t you think that comparing a character called Rorschach to an actual Rorschach test is just a little obvious and lazy?

What’s the truth? A little of both, I’m afraid. Moore recalled his four years of toil on the 12-issue DC Comics series as “slam-dancing with a bunch of rhinos.”

What?

That description also fits watching the movie, which stumbles and sometimes falls on its top-heavy ambitions.

No. I don’t think that description fits watching the movie at all. When I watched the movie, I sat in my seat and enjoyed a bucket of popcorn. No Rhinos. But I suppose “slam-dancing with a bunch of rhinos” is still better than “flashing a few yards of giant blue wiener.”

Snyder, a director of TV ads (yikes!) who made his feature debut with a rockin’ 2004 remake of Dawn of the Dead

So he gets a “yikes!” becuase he had to work his way up to being a major film director. I might as well start referring to Peter Travers as a “writer of obituaries who made his film reviewing debut with People magazine.”

Snyder sums it up in a yowsa opening that merges Vietnam, moonwalks, you name it, into a visionary time capsule.

Yowsa? YOWSA!

Plot point coming: Since 1977, masked heroes have been banned from doing their thing. Except for Dr. Manhattan, rendered übermensch in a lab accident, they have no superpowers, just a jones to fight in drag.

More strangely sexual writing coming: nobody in the film even remotely dresses in drag, but apparently Peter Travers has a bit of a mask fetish.

Wilson (Angels in America) gained a few pounds but otherwise suggests nothing less than an Adonis in a role that cried out for, say, Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Correction: Peter Travers has a fat guys in masks fetish.

He’s all limp-dick with Silk Spectre II (Malin Akerman), a.k.a. Laurie Jupiter, until cracking heads makes him rock-hard.

If that weren’t an accurate description of what happens in the movie, I’d be much more creeped out. Let see how this goes…

Laurie had been getting it on with Dr. Manhattan, a.k.a. Jon Osterman, but his interests had turned to physics and Mars despite his giant blue penis.

…and we’re now at greco-roman wrestling awkward…

What’s a girl to do, especially one with a mom (Carla Gugino, perfecto!), the original Silk Spectre, who may have been raped by the Comedian?

…clown-rape awkward…

For Laurie, it’s out with the Doc and in with the hottie spandex (hello, Killer Barbie), just the thingie to put new hoot into Nite Owl II.

…and we’re at defcon 1:  Olympic Gymnastics awkward.

Even in the time of a popular new leader, Watchmen tells us to be on guard about our alleged protectors.

No, it really doesn’t, but I assume that people saying things like this is why Alan Moore is completely insane.

Moore worried about winding up with “a big, messy, steaming bowl of semiotic spaghetti.”

Here are some other insane Alan Moore quotes, courtesy of wikiquote.

And if you have to go back to the comic to learn that the freaks in Watchmen are not only for geeks, maybe that’s not so bad. Just sayin’.

It takes balls to write a movie review that basically keeps telling you to go read the book. It’s really just the laziest tactic possible. I shouldn’t be surprised, but that’s just the way it goes for me.

(Bear in mind, the only movies here that I’ve seen were The Wrestler, The Dark Knight and Tropic Thunder. Everything else is based on my assumptions on how the academy will vote, what I’ve heard from others, or just arbitrary decisions. My picks are in bold.)

Best Picture – I’ve gotta say, I’m not too impressed with this crop of nominees. The only one I really want to see is Frost/Nixon, but this pretty much follows the standard formula for best picture nominees. It’s a veritable Breakfast Club of film selections.

• The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - This is the obligatory big name/big budget selection (which I thought would have gone to The Dark Knight).  I’ve heard mixed things about it, and I honestly spent about a week thinking that it had won the Golden Globe. I think it could win on an argument of cinematography/technology–in other words the best made movie–but I don’t know if that’s enough to beat the others.
• Frost/Nixon – This is the obligatory political movie. As a history nerd, this is the only one of the bunch I really have any interest in seeing. There could be some Bush-backlash votes for it, or votes for its character-driven nature, but I don’t think that’s going to push it into the win.
• Milk – This is the obligatory issues movie. It’s also my pick for the winner. Whereas Frost/Nixon might benefit from Bush-backlash, Milk could get the Obama-bump, as well as the much more powerful Prop 8 backlash. I think the voters are going to try to send a message by voting for it, and it’ll probably win on that strength.
• The Reader – This is the obligatory historical pick. I honestly know next to nothing about this movie, but I feel like it was more a prestige pick than anything else. I think that with the strong “personalities” of the other movies, this is going to be seen as more of “just another WWII movie,” and will probably finish pretty low in the final polling.
• Slumdog Millionaire – This is the obligatory indie pick, which did actually win the Golden Globe (an award voted on by the Hollywood Foreign Press, I should add). It’ll get a lot of votes, and probably could have won in another year, but I just don’t see it happening here.

Best Director – Not surprisingly, the directors of the best picture nominees all got nominated. But, I don’t think the votes are going to come down the same way. I think I might have picked this analogy up from The (aforementioned) Movie Blog, but the coach of the year doesn’t always win the super bowl.

• David Fincher, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – Remember when I said that Benjamin Button might win on the basis of being the best made movie? Consider this a consolation prize.
• Ron Howard, Frost/Nixon
• Gus Van Sant, Milk – He’s got a pretty good shot too, but I think that the same people that pick Milk for best picture are going to attribute it more to Sean Penn than Van Sant.
• Stephen Daldry, The Reader
• Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire

Best Actor – This is really a two horse race between Penn and Rourke. Fortunately, both of these guys are big enough assholes that it won’t come down to a popularity contest.

• Richard Jenkins, The Visitor – I’ve never even heard of this movie, or this actor. Good for him though. Moving on…
• Frank Langella, Frost/Nixon – There’s usually a boost for playing historical figures, especially someone like Nixon, but there’s also a downside of having a definite reference point to compare the actor too. This raises questions about what merits you’re supposed to base your vote on, and when Rourke and Penn are both nominated, why bother thinking that much?
• Sean Penn, Milk -  See the other guy for my rationale.
• Brad Pitt, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – When you’re Brad Pitt, just getting nominated is a pretty good feeling. I feel like most of the praise he got was based on the technology used to change his age, so probably no statue.
• Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler – Rourke is going to beat Penn. And he had damn-well better thank Darren Aronofsky, because this whole movie was owned by Rourke. Again, there’s some bias in that this is the only performance I’ve seen, but I still feel as if a lot of the praise for Penn is coming off the Prop 8 thing, which probably won’t overcome the real-life comparisons and high praise handed to Mickey Rourke.

Best Actress – I always feel kind of bad about the Best Actress category. There really just aren’t that many good lead actress roles out there, so it always comes across feeling like more of a “best supporting” category.

• Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married – She’s been getting a lot of buzz, but I don’t think the academy is going to be ready to hand a statue to the star of The Princess Diaries just yet. Give her another good role or two.
• Angelina Jolie, Changeling – Call me shallow, but I really just don’t think of her as being that good of an actress. Props for the nomination, but it’s not happening.
• Melissa Leo, Frozen River – Again, no clue about the movie or actress. Moving on…
• Meryl Streep, Doubt – It’s another tribute to the lack of quality female lead roles that Meryl Streep seems to get nominated every year (She’s already won a supporting and a lead, and been nominated a total of 15 times including this year). I don’t mean that as a knock against her in any way, as she could very well win the award this year too. But, she did also appear in Momma Mia! this year.
• Kate Winslet, The Reader – Speaking of multiple nominations, Winslet has six nominations (including this one) without a win. If you break this down to Winslet vs. Streep, which some voters may well do (though Hathaway could be in the mix), the tiebreaker may well be that Winslet was also in Revolutionary Road. She needs to thank somebody for not making her run against herself.

Best Supporting Actor – You know, I’m still not sure how you define “supporting Actor,” but I’ve gotta say, this is probably the most interesting category of the bunch.

• Josh Brolin, Milk – I haven’t heard too much about Brolin in this movie. But given everything I’ve been saying about Prop 8, I don’t see it happening.
• Robert Downey Jr., Tropic Thunder – I want to see him win if only for the acceptance speech, but I think that getting nominated for a role where you’re essentially in blackface is good enough.
• Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Doubt – Here’s my runner-up pick. I think Hoffman’s one of the best actors out there, but I think he’s already set his own bar a little too high. However, I’m a bit curious why he’s in this category, considering that every piece of footage from Doubt that I’ve seen has him in it, but so be it.
• Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight – You know, I wasn’t going to pick Ledger at first. It seemed a little too trendy, and a little too reliant of the whole “being dead” thing. But looking at the other nominees, I really think he’s the only one who deserves it. He brought a whole new light to the character and blah blah blah, but it really was a great performance.
• Michael Shannon, Revolutionary Road – I don’t know who this guy is. Good for him all the same, but moving on…

Best Supporting Actress – I’m making a fully arbitrary pick here. I don’t have much in the way of justifications or thoughts about this category, but I kept it in for the sake of not seeming sexist.

• Amy Adams, Doubt
• Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona
• Viola Davis, Doubt
• Taraji P. Henson, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
• Marisa Tomei, The Wrestler – She was good, but not that good. Plus, she has weird nipples (So much for not seeming sexist).

So yeah, those are my picks for some of the major categories. I thought about giving my thoughts for the screenplays, until I realized that without seeing the movies themselves, or god forbid, reading the screenplays, there really wasn’t any point (plus, I’m lazy). I’ll probably be wrong on most of them, but that’s the fun of the Oscars, right?

Hit the comments if you want to argue with me.