If you were my girlfriend in middle school (or high school, or college), or, more realistically, the girl I was too much of a pussy to ask out (an thus we ended up, like, best friends), there's a good chance that I would have you made you a pretty rad mix-tape at some point in our...friendship.
The first track (on each side, perhaps) would have been that one song that we both were currently obsessed with (or at least you would have been, as I might have [secretly] hated that shit), followed up by a steady drip of similar stuff by similar bands. I mean, you can't do the exact same thing over and over again, sure, but uh...between you and me, why f--k around with a good thing?
Now, I'm not equating the clearly-talented James Gunn with a pathetic eighth grade boy or anything, but as the writer/director of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, this dude's not f--king around with a proven formula. Side Two, er, Volume 2, isn't as
(incredibly) strong as the first [review], but it's still a hellluva jam, full of tasty beats and epic riffs.
After one of the best opening numbers in recent years, the second road trip with Peter Quill/Star-Lord and crew, finds the Guardians balls deep/tits up in interstellar turmoil. After completing the job they were hired to do by some golden, elitist a-holes known as the Sovereign race, Rocket not only offends their leader Ayesha, but steals some of the shit they were hired to protect on the way out. Instantly, our gang is up against droves of Sovereign fighters, until some mysterious freakshow bails them out from a distance. Oh, okay then. Thanks, stranger.
Turns out, this eccentric cowboy-type is actually named Ego, and he's pretty much Star-Lord's father. Oh, and a planet. Wait, what? See, this guy is essentially a god-like being, and he's been searching the galaxy (uh, that he created?) for his son, for like, ever. And while Ego's trying to protect Peter and maybe play catch with his boy, ol' Ayehsa has hired Yondu and his unsavory squad to have Peter catch something else instead. Something less like a baseball, and more like that rad-as-f--k spear thing, he controls by whistling.
The plot, the villain(s), the unfolding backstory, all of that shit isn't terrible or anything, but it's all rather secondary to simply spending more time with Star-Lord and his dysfunctional team. Set to yet another kickass seventies-laden soundtrack, and with some incredibly solid additions to the cast (I'm looking at you, Mantis [and Sly, whoever the Hell he's playing]), I honestly had a really good time with Vol. 2. Yes, it wasn't even remotely as magical as the first flick, but I'm still pumped to see it again. And again. Oh, and I had basically convinced myself that I would end up hating Baby Groot, but even that little leafy cashgrab had me grinning from ear-to-ear. No matter how you look at it, the second Guardians flick is the quintessential crowd-pleaser.
What might not have you so happy, however, are the Yays and Boos. With the NBA Playoffs being so utterly f--king compelling (at least as a Boston fan), we haven't seen a movie since Guardians, and that ended an almost two week dry-spell. My point? There was no f--king way I wasn't going to have a good time with this one. Not a chance.
The first track (on each side, perhaps) would have been that one song that we both were currently obsessed with (or at least you would have been, as I might have [secretly] hated that shit), followed up by a steady drip of similar stuff by similar bands. I mean, you can't do the exact same thing over and over again, sure, but uh...between you and me, why f--k around with a good thing?
(incredibly) strong as the first [review], but it's still a hellluva jam, full of tasty beats and epic riffs.
After one of the best opening numbers in recent years, the second road trip with Peter Quill/Star-Lord and crew, finds the Guardians balls deep/tits up in interstellar turmoil. After completing the job they were hired to do by some golden, elitist a-holes known as the Sovereign race, Rocket not only offends their leader Ayesha, but steals some of the shit they were hired to protect on the way out. Instantly, our gang is up against droves of Sovereign fighters, until some mysterious freakshow bails them out from a distance. Oh, okay then. Thanks, stranger.
Turns out, this eccentric cowboy-type is actually named Ego, and he's pretty much Star-Lord's father. Oh, and a planet. Wait, what? See, this guy is essentially a god-like being, and he's been searching the galaxy (uh, that he created?) for his son, for like, ever. And while Ego's trying to protect Peter and maybe play catch with his boy, ol' Ayehsa has hired Yondu and his unsavory squad to have Peter catch something else instead. Something less like a baseball, and more like that rad-as-f--k spear thing, he controls by whistling.
The plot, the villain(s), the unfolding backstory, all of that shit isn't terrible or anything, but it's all rather secondary to simply spending more time with Star-Lord and his dysfunctional team. Set to yet another kickass seventies-laden soundtrack, and with some incredibly solid additions to the cast (I'm looking at you, Mantis [and Sly, whoever the Hell he's playing]), I honestly had a really good time with Vol. 2. Yes, it wasn't even remotely as magical as the first flick, but I'm still pumped to see it again. And again. Oh, and I had basically convinced myself that I would end up hating Baby Groot, but even that little leafy cashgrab had me grinning from ear-to-ear. No matter how you look at it, the second Guardians flick is the quintessential crowd-pleaser.
 |
| One of these a-holes is my favorite character in this movie. (I just don't know which one) |
What might not have you so happy, however, are the Yays and Boos. With the NBA Playoffs being so utterly f--king compelling (at least as a Boston fan), we haven't seen a movie since Guardians, and that ended an almost two week dry-spell. My point? There was no f--king way I wasn't going to have a good time with this one. Not a chance.
 |
| You know, there's actually something better than Baby Groot... (but I'll let you find that out on your own...unless you have somewhere to be) |
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
- Dude, how was young Kurt Russell not one of those creepy de-aging effects? Oh, right. Because Stuntman Mike the real f--king deal, isn't he?
- Okay, Drax isn't really the Destroyer anymore, but that motherf--ker sure killed me. Holy shit, Bautista owns in this role. I have famously huge turds.
- I know I already mentioned it, but good God that opening number is what I'm assuming heaven looks like. Rainbows and glitter, dancing tree babies, and obviously, giant space slugs, violently thrashing about to a groovy tune? Yep. Totally heaven.
- Man, arcades are like, way cooler if you're a Sovereign.
- I basically haven't stopped calling every animal (or person, honestly) a trash panda since I left the theater last Saturday.
- Mantis is adorable, especially for a gross, bug-lady. Just...she's soooo nice, you know? She reminds of this girl I (never) dated.
- Drax describes himself as extraordinarily humble. Just thinking about that makes me want to laugh til I stop breathing.
- Uh, that was Cheddar Bob wasn't it? F--king Cheddar Bob, you guys!
- Baby Groot, like all wee ones, is just the worst at following directions. And it's the best thing ever.
- I'm not even sure of the name of Yondu's like, top Hench, but that dude is so f--king clutch I can't stand it.
- And speaking of Yondu, Michael Rooker totally deserves the opposite of a stink-palm for how f--king awesome he is in this movie. I can't wait for more of him in Vol. 3!
- A f--king Zune!
- And finally, say what you want about the Marvel machine, but holy shit do they know how to deliver an entertaining flick. On paper, this whole storyline (and these characters) should be too f--king ridiculous for mass consumption, but they've managed to yet again, make a kick-ass space romp fun and accessible. I don't think every movie should be for everyone, God no, but I'm still impressed when something this big is so f--king fun, you know?
 |
| What big, uh, eyes you have, Mantis. |
Boooooooooooo!
- Aw, they went to Dairy Queen back when they were dating in the 70s? That's cool...until I find myself at Dairy Queen, last week, and realized it was just stupid/delicious product placement...that may have subconsciously got me there, dammit.
- As rad as that gold lady looked, she's a pretty lame villain, right? I mean, what threat does she pose?
- Yo, that was some super unnecessary shirt-changing, Mr. Quill. Super unnecessary. (and with no matching female objectification? The f--k?)
- You ever watch a sex scene with your parents? The worst, right? Well...that's kind of how I felt every single time somebody said douchebag or dick or whatever. I don't think my son cared, but my wife's incredulous stare repeatedly thrown my way? Uh...pretty f--king awkward.
- I have a strange feeling that isn't the last time I'm going to see Hasselhoff this summer.
- Man, thanks for the backstory Nebula. Now I feel bad about (initially) hating you.
- Oh, speaking of feeling bad for someone, I kind of felt sorry for Taserface. No, really. Rocket was so f--king relentless!
- Those jump faces were unsettling. Yikes.
- Mantis, look out! Not cool, Drax. Not cool at all.
- Uh...that's a lot of dead kids, amiright?
- I think we've got a world-record for stingers. Like this movie isn't long enough!
- And finally, is it me or is Star-Lord (and to a certain extent, Gamora) the most boring character in the Guardians? I still like what Pratt does as Quill/Star-Lord, but let's just say I wouldn't be upset with more Drax. Or Rocket. Or Mantis.
While Guardians currently sits at two, I'm pretty sure I made at least ten to twelve mix tapes in my youth. And like James Gunn and his flicks, I really had a passion for it, you know? I poured myself into those damn things. Hell, I even made the custom cassette sleeve thing, and a kickass tracklist, too.
You, in all your sexy brilliance, would have absolutely loved this thing I made for you.
And if it all went right, at some point, we would have totally made out in your car listening to side one. But by the time that tape clicked over to side two? Well, we probably would have had to come up for air, you know? Take a much-needed breather from all that youthful tongue (ewww).
I mean, even the most magical and, like, special thing ever...
....gets less magical and, like, way less special after awhile.