Hollywood blows. Why does it blow? Because we–the viewing public–keep telling Hollywood we like crap. Now, I like summer crap. Explosions, buckets of blood, brutal fight scenes, aliens, zombies. I love the shit out of it during the summer. And it’s even better when a movie knows what it is. What am I talking about? Take the A-Team for example. That was fun. hey didn’t try to be a deep movie. It didn’t have some underlying moral, something to think about message. It was a movie based on an 80’s TV show. They flew a tank, for Christ’s sake. Piranha 3D was a pile of crap. But it owned up to being crap. I can respect that. What isn’t owning up to what it really is?

Real Steel.

Hugh Jackman plays a human boxer who got dicked out of being a champ when robots replaced humans in the boxing ring. Now, with the help of a darling little kid, he has a chance to regain his former glory, blah, blah, heartwarming scene, blah blah, kid in peril, blah blah, robots. Sounds interesting, right? But think about it. Robots. In a boxing ring. With humans controlling them. If you’re in your 30’s or older, you know exactly what this is. If you’re some punk ass kid (get OFF MY LAWN!) I’ll spell it out for you. Rock ’em Sock’em Robots. No really. They even have a scene in the trailer where one robot upper cuts another one and his motherfucking head flies off. THAT WAS THE POINT OF THE GAME! THAT’S HOW YOU WIN! Jesus H Christ. You can be a crap movie based on a kid’s toy all you want, but don’t try to pretend you’re something else.

And on that note, what’s with the Conan hate? YOU WENT TO SEE A CONAN MOVIE. You knew exactly what you were getting! It’s Conan! There’s nothing deep or mysterious about a goddamn barbarian. Okay, Jason Momoa is not the best actor, but holy shit, preferring Arnold to him? Really? Jason did his job: he kicked ass, ordered women around, and got laid. What more do you need? Oh, what, there was too much talking, too much dialog? Well. Okay. I give you that. But think of it like an origin story. For those poor souls who have never heard of Conan.

Wait. No. Fuck them. All they needed to know was in the title: Conan the Barbarian. There. No real backstory needed. But seriously. It was a movie about a barbarian. It wasn’t going to be Shakespeare. Conan knew what it was and it delivered predictably. 2 hours and 10 minutes of brutal killing, blood spurting with every hit, some super-cut toned male running around doing his thing, and tittays. In short, it was a goddamn Conan movie.

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