Warning: This article contains mild spoilers that won’t impact your overall enjoyment of the film.

When you’re watching a mega-budgeted ($300 million!!!) film adaptation of a beloved superhero, the very last question you should be asking yourself about the protagonist is, “Why should I care about this guy?” Green Lantern isn’t bad by any means but the film’s biggest failure is that it fails to provide viewers any real reason to root for Hal Jordan (Ryan Reynolds) other than the fact that he’s good looking, courageous and suave. And while those are admirable traits for any hero, cartoon or otherwise, Hal’s natural charms can’t overcome the fact that he’s also a one-dimensional douche, the heroic equivalent of Axe Body Spray.

A few years ago, I read a very popular screenwriting book called “Save the Cat.” The book took its title from the author’s idea that a hero needs to actually do something noble within the first few minutes of the film to explain why we‘re supposed to be rooting for him. For example, if our hero finds a kitten stuck in a tree, he should grab a ladder and “save the cat.” The concept is so sensible and basic that you’d think every script would find a way to do this, especially when the protagonist isn’t just your everyday, run-of-the-mill lead, but a friggin’ superhero.

At no point during the early moments of Green Lantern does Hal Jordan save the cat, or even come off as even the slightest bit human or humble. Case in point: After he pulls a stunt that could conceivably bankrupt the company he works for, Hal roars over to his nephew‘s birthday party in his souped-up muscle car. Time for a little family bonding to show off Hal’s sensitive side, right? Nope. Their entire conversation basically revolves around the kid telling Hal how awesome he is and Hal being too polite to disagree.

The closest our lead comes to getting any character development is a poorly-inserted flashback to a childhood tragedy that’s supposedly the source of Hal’s “fear.” Without giving too much away, I found fault with this plot point for one glaring reason: You can’t be afraid of something that’s already happened to you and has zero chance of ever occurring again in your lifetime. You can certainly regret an unfortunate incident. You can wish it hadn’t happened. But you can‘t be pee-your-pants afraid of an incident from your past, unless you don’t understand how emotions work, which the Green Lantern screenwriters apparently don’t.

The most disappointing aspect of Green Lantern is that the parts of the film that don’t focus squarely on Hal are pretty fun. The special effects were solid, if not $300 million worth of amazing, and the action sequences are mostly good. Mark Strong does a terrific job as Jordan’s semi-mentor and future nemesis Sinestro and Peter Sarsgaard steals multiple scenes as super-powered evildoer Hector Hammond. All the scenes involving Oa, the Green Lantern Corp’s home planet, are beautifully rendered and far more interesting than most of the adventures that happen on Earth.

But the real stumbling block for this movie is the blandness of its hero. As other reviewers have pointed out, Reynolds works hard to make the film succeed. It’s a shame that the script didn’t give him very much to work with. A lesson to future screenwriters: There’s nothing exciting about an infallible person doing the impossible.

I won’t tell you to skip Green Lantern but I definitely can’t tell you to watch it with anything other than the most measured of expectations. If you can overlook the fact that Hal’s character is completely uninteresting, his romantic scenes with Blake Lively are a great excuse to get up and use the restroom, and that certain elements of the screenplay are borderline nonsensical, even for a comic book movie, you’ll have an good time. But if you go in expecting Green Lantern to meet the high standards already set this summer by Thor and X-Men: First Class, your darkest day and blackest night will come when you leave the theater muttering, “Man, that could have been a whole lot better.”

Rating: C+

Let’s say your favorite restaurant sells burritos. They’re not necessarily the best burritos you’ve ever had but they’re pretty darn good. Everyone you know likes them. Their quality is consistent. It’s a fun place to eat.

Then one day you walk into the burrito restaurant and notice that a few things are different. For one thing, their decorations are flashier but seem to have less personality, as if the chain is trying to please people who don’t even eat there.

Also, the food isn’t nearly as good as it used to be. The restaurant still uses excellent ingredients but the burritos themselves aren’t put together with the same quality that they were just a few years earlier. It’s as if the burrito itself was an afterthought.

You complain to one of the employees about the quality of your burrito. He informs you that they’re no longer called burritos, they’re called MegaWraps, then points out how much nicer their dinner plates are than they were the last time you were there.

You agree that the plates are a lot nicer. Still, you aren’t eating there for their presentation, you’re eating there because it‘s the best burrito restaurant in town. He curtly replies that the establishment you’re standing in isn’t a restaurant, much less a burrito restaurant. It‘s a Dining Experience that happens to feature MegaWraps. He goes on to explain that the chain has evolved into a Dining Experience because they don’t just make MegaWraps, they also make direct-to-DVD movies about MegaWraps.

Eventually, it becomes clear that the restaurant no longer views their burritos… er… MegaWraps as the reason for their success. If anything, they view the fact that they sell MegaWraps as something of an embarrassment. You return to your table, pick at your MegaWrap, and wish there was an equally good place you could buy your burritos at. But the only other burrito restaurant in town uses worn-out recipes that haven’t been good since the late 90’s.

You can’t make a burrito for people who don’t like burritos. So why not make one for people who do?

After directing both my least favorite entry in the Harry Potter film series (Order of the Phoenix) and my second-favorite (Half-Blood Prince), I had positive but measured expectations for David Yates’ Deathly Hallows Part 1. Long story short, I really hated the film. Here’s why.

Harry Potter is an optimistic series. David Yates is a pessimistic director.

Up until the end of the sixth book, the tone of the Harry Potter books was, “How will Harry prevail?”

From the last few pages of Half-Blood Prince through the final act of Deathly Hallows, the tone switched to “Can Harry prevail?”

But the tone of David Yates’ Potter films has always been, “Harry Potter will not prevail and you’re stupid for even thinking that he could.”

While that tone worked very well for Half-Blood Prince, which was easily the darkest of the Potter books, it doesn’t work nearly as well for the penultimate film. We already know that Voldemort is the ultimate evil. We know that Harry is hopelessly outmatched. What we need is a film that establishes Harry’s willingness to fight, not the inevitability of his death. Directing a very tense book in the most pessimistic way possible does nothing more than create a hope-eating monster that robs the series of the rightful sense of adventure it should possess until the very end.

Deathly Hallows Part 1 has plenty of scenes where characters stare into the darkest corners of their souls but no scenes that exude any trace of optimism. The deaths of beloved characters carry little to no weight. A wedding is interrupted by the worst news imaginable but the mood in the scene barely shifts. That’s due to Yates’ chronic inability to develop any sense of joy in the lives of his protagonists, both in DHP1 and his previous Potter entries. If he were skilled enough to do so, the climax of the wedding scene would meant so much more than the resulting monotony of gloom interrupting gloom.

Also, huge portions of the film are really, really dull. At one point, I literally fell asleep. The blame for DHP1’s dullness falls on Yates and his washed-out color palate, lackluster ability to film action sequences and refusal to put anything but the most minimal score behind largely silent and/or uneventful scenes.

The real shame of DHP1’s failures is the fact that the acting is as strong as it has been at any point in the series. Rupert Grint especially has come a very long way from his mugging, annoying performances in the early films and perfectly conveys the jealousy that would no doubt accompany constantly playing second fiddle to The Boy Who Lived. Bill Nighy also makes the most of his brief appearance as Rufus Scrimegour, the head of the Ministry of Magic.

I love Harry Potter. I also love dark, brooding films. But I’m not going to blindly love a bad example of either one. Hopefully in forty years when they remake the Potter series they’ll hire a proven director with a singular vision for the series… or at least a director who understands the importance of a light at the end of the tunnel.

Rating: C-

For those who don’t know, my original (and incredibly dumb) dream was to become a professional wrestling manager. Seriously. I moved to Cincy to attend school at a well-respected wrestling training school but flamed out because I was in terrible shape and didn’t want the reality of my dream as much as I wanted the fantasy aspects of my dream. A few years later, I shuffled my sad carcass onto the stage of a comedy club, where I’ve been performing / taking up space ever since.

I still have a love-hate relationship with wrestling. Unfortunately, these days it’s a lot more “hate” than “love” since WWE doesn’t seem to realize that bad storylines AND bad matches don’t please longtime fans. But my friend DJ Dangler recently invited me to take part in his “build your own wrestling dream card” game and, like any red-blooded nerd, I accepted his gentlemanly challenge. Please note that these might not all be “money-making” matches other than the main event but they’re all matches that I think would be a lot of fun… which is exactly what wrestling is missing right now.

Your announce team for “Supremacy: 2010” is Joey Styles and Bobby “The Brain” Heenan!

Main Event: John Cena vs. Brock Lesnar
The top moneymaker in wrestling vs. The top moneymaker in MMA. Lesnar returns to wrestling after dominating the UFC and immediately insists upon a world title shot. Breathtaking in his arrogance, Lesnar refuses to wrestle until he’s provided with “real competition.” When he finally steps into the ring, he dominates an already-injured Christian to the point that he’s knocked out of action for a few months. Lesnar makes no bones about the fact that he wants a title match with Cena and that he’ll continue to hurt competitors until the champ signs a contract. Cena signs the contract, saying that he’s not only fighting for himself and fighting for his title but he’s fighting for WRESTLING itself. The match is a back and forth encounter, with the two men hammering each other with power moves, Lesnar using his superior wrestling ability to inflict punishment, and Cena continually trying to lock on the STF in an effort to make Cena tap. The battle ends after Lesnar connects with a picture-perfect Shooting Star Press… and Cena kicks out. Mounting a comeback, Cena nails two shoulderblocks and goes for a flying bodypress. Lesnar counters by catching Cena and lifting him for the F5. Cena floats over, lands behind Lesnar, scoops him up for the Attitude Adjustment, and picks up a shocking victory.

Street Fight: Bret Hart & Shawn Michaels vs. Dudley Boyz
The best singles wrestlers of the last 20 years team up to face the most decorated tag team in wrestling history, who have spent the last six months mutilating every team in their path. Bret and Shawn agree to put aside their past issues when they’re attacked and bloodied by The Dudleys in separate incidents. The match is a violent brawl that goes throughout the entire arena and involves Michaels giving Bubba Ray a moonsault from the second level of the arena and Hart piledriving D-Von from the ring apron through a table. The battle ends when Hart counters 3D with a tornado DDT and Michaels pins Bubba Ray after a superkick with barbed wire wrapped around his boot.

Undertaker vs. Bam Bam Bigelow
The best “big man” in wrestling history battles the most underrated. Taker wins by turning a Bigelow moonsault attempt into a Tombstone piledriver.

Ricky Steamboat vs. Kurt Angle
Classic face Steamboat vs. MMA heel Angle. After furious back-and-forth technical action, Angle makes Steamboat tap in a heartbreaking loss for “The Dragon.”

Three Way Dance: Low Ki vs. Jack Evans vs. Taz
Taz’s stony demeanor, Evans’ hip-hop swagger and Ki’s fighting spirit meet in a battle of clashing styles to determine the best light-heavyweight in the business. Taz tosses around the smaller Ki and Evans, sometimes suplexing both at the same time. Ki dishes out punishing kicks and strikes. Evans absorbs most of the punishment but takes advantage of every opportunity to use his arsenal of incredible high-flying moves. The match ends when Evans knocks out Ki with a 450 legdrop while Ki has Taz locked in the Dragon Sleeper but ends up slightly hurting his leg in the process. As the injured Evans is unable to take advantage of the opportunity, a still-groggy Taz locks in the Tazmission on Evans, choking him out in mere seconds.

Macho Man vs. Raven
Jealous of Savage’s “perfect” home life, Raven brainwashes Elizabeth to turn against The Macho Man. Raven’s mind games with Savage lead to a PPV match won by Savage when Elizabeth “wakes up” and realizes how much she loves her husband. A slap from Elizabeth distracts Raven enough for Savage to roll up his nemesis for the win. After the match, Savage beats the hell out of Raven with a steel chair, resulting in the referee reversing his decision. However, Savage gets the last laugh when he shaves Raven’s signature locks with a little help from old friend Brutus “The Barber” Beefcake.

Ric Flair vs. Yokozuna
Flair’s “biggest” challenge is also the newest protégé of Harley Race, who’s still angry over losing the NWA title to The Nature Boy and the fact that Flair narrowly defeated his former charge, Vader. The match ends when Yoko counters a top-rope sunset flip attempt by sitting down on Flair’s chest and hits a Banzai Drop for the win.

Dean Malenko vs. Bryan Danielson
Both men claim to be the best technical wrestler in the world. This will finally be their chance to settle their differences. Just as Danielson locks in the Cattle Mutilation on Malenko, the bell rings, resulting in a 20 minute time-limit draw. Depending on the camera angle, it either looks like Malenko is reaching for the ropes or preparing to tap out, furthering their conflict.

Survivor Series Match: The Common Men (Dusty Rhodes, Colt Cabana, Masato Tanaka, Balls Mahoney ) vs. The Dust-Busters (Ted DiBiase, Roddy Piper, Terry Funk, Rick Rude)
Oh no… “The Dream’s” greatest enemies have joined forces in an effort to drive him out of wrestling once and for all! Fortunately, Dusty’s all-star team of oddballs manages to defeat his longtime foes. DiBiase is the last to fall, thanks to stereo Bionic Elbows delivered by Rhodes and Cabana, the only two survivors.

Sid vs. The Miz
For weeks, Miz has issued an “Open Challenge” for the PPV, saying he’ll take on absolutely anyone. The challenge is answered by The Master and Ruler of The World, who beats Miz’s ass from one end of the arena to the other. The match ends in a double count-out. After the bell, Sid powerbombs Miz off the entrance ramp through a table. Why “waste” PPV time with a total squash? Because sometimes it’s fun to watch someone get the crap beaten out of them in a lopsided fight.

Putting that card together was way more fun than it should have been. That does it… I’m quitting comedy and opening my own promotion. Does anyone have Marty Jannetty’s phone number?

Over the weekend, I saw Jim Gaffigan perform at the Mirage in Las Vegas. Nearly all his material was brand new and either killer or really, really great. I’ve been fortunate enough to see Gaffigan twice.

I never had the chance to see Greg Giraldo. Any time he performed at a club within easy driving distance, I was always either out of town working or visiting family.

When someone I don’t know passes away, I usually have a very detached reaction to the news. “That’s too bad.” “What a shame.” But Giraldo’s death hit me pretty hard. So young, so damn good. And until the moment of his passing, I’d never realized the effect he’d had on my comedy.

Like most young comedians, I spent the first three of four years of my “career” soaking up comedy in all its forms. I devoured every comedy-related online articles and podcasts I could find. In his interviews, Gaffigan often mentioned how he and Giraldo began their careers together. Ironically, Gaffigan started out darker and dirtier, modeling himself after Dave Attell, while Giraldo was very clean, patterning his act after Brian Regan. Things started really rolling for them after they figured out that they were trying to be someone onstage who they really weren’t and learned how to write in their own voice.

The lesson I learned from those interviews was that it takes time to figure out who you are, both as a person and as a comedian. When you finally figure out your role in the world of comedy, there’s no stopping you, at least not as a performer.

Beyond his passion for his work and the intensity he put behind every joke, my favorite aspect of Giraldo’s act was his belief in word economy, the beautiful process of “murdering your darlings.” Cut out the fat. Less setup, more punchline. It doesn’t matter that you’ve said fewer words than anyone else. What matters is that the words you’ve chosen to speak have power.

Yesterday, Gaffigan posted the following message on his Twitter feed: “Dear Addiction, Fuck you. Goodbye Greg. I love you.”

Simple, honest, dark, efficient. I have feeling Giraldo would have liked it.

When I heard that director David Fincher was developing a “Facebook movie,” my initial reaction was “There’s no way I’ll ever see that.” Despite positive buzz from advance reviews, the film’s boring teaser trailer and poster didn’t do much to change my opinion that The Social Network would only be a good choice for a Redbox evening if the last copy of Walk Hard had been checked out.

However, I should have had more faith in Fincher, whose emotionally distant style of direction perfectly matches the coldness of Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg and the calculating ways in which he planned to take over the internet, one college student at a time. The Social Network is a sad and beautiful ode to “the one that got away” and easily one of the best films of the year.

Jesse Eisenberg convincingly plays Zuckerberg as an emotionally unavailable narcissist whose belief in his own genius is his greatest strength and his most despicable trait. Eisenberg creates a central figure who alternates between uplifting and frustrating his only real friend, Facebook co-founder Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield, a very talented actor who will soon be swinging across movie screens in the upcoming Spider-Man reboot). Every role in The Social Network is perfectly cast, with stand-out performances from Rooney Mara as Zuckerberg’s ex-girlfriend and Justin Timberlake as Napster founder Shawn Fanning, who ultimately becomes Zuckerberg’s destructive mentor.

(Slight thematic SPOILERS ahead.)

The key to The Social Network’s importance is that it isn’t a story about Facebook. It’s a story about loss. Whether “the one that got away” is an old love, a trusted friendship or an idea that’s potentially worth billions of dollars, The Social Network follows its characters as they deal with the rage and grief of having something that means more to them than anything slowly stripped away by forces outside their control. True to his nature, Fincher never allows his characters to find complete emotional closure. Instead, they remain trapped in the area that lies somewhere between righteous anger and the belief that maybe–just maybe–the people they’ve foolishly trusted will redeem themselves and things will be okay.

The Social Network’s tagline is “You don’t get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies.” A more accurate tagline might have been “Let go,” a concept that millions of addicted Facebook users would no doubt have a hard time relating to.

Rating: A

A few random notes from Day Two of Brew Ha Ha:

* Judging from the number of cans I saw being clutched by Brew Ha Ha performers, Little Kings is the official beer of broke-ass comedians. Honorable mention goes to one of the finest $2 beers in America, Hudy 14-K. Thanks to Little Kings, Hudy 14-K, and the stack of free drink tickets my friend Sarah gave me, I achieved my impossible dream of getting drunk for $4.

* Bobcat Goldthwait can rock a fake moustache like no one else.

* It was good to see Mike Kurtz, GM of Go Bananas, finally have a few moments to relax after spending several stressful months putting this awesome festival. Every human being (a.k.a. non-comic) I spoke with raved about how this year’s Brew Ha Ha was best and funniest one yet. Mike’s hard work putting together a killer lineup and figuring out the scheduling is the biggest reason for that. All of us who performed appreciate the fact that Mike lost a few more of his remaining non-gray hairs to make this festival so much fun.

* Underbelly definitely happened. We tried to present something underground in a very mainstream setting, which understandably didn’t work as well as we’d hoped it would. But we tried our best and some of the folks who stuck around to watch the whole thing seemed to appreciate it. No worries. We’ll be back at Southgate House on Tuesday, September 7th.

* My favorite part of Underbelly was the guy who realized I was doing a Dusty Rhodes impersonation and was really disappointed that I ended the sketch before he could ask how I felt about Goldust being my son.

* Note to the young guy who approached me late that night to tell me he enjoyed my set: For future reference, any compliment you pay someone, no matter how heartfelt it might be, is immediately invalidated when you follow up by asking the person you complimented for a cigarette.

* Suzy Jenkins destroyed The Other Stage, getting the whole crowd to sing along and receiving one of the loudest ovations of the night at the end of her set.

* After meeting my friend Andrew Short’s parents, I propose a new rule that fathers must look exactly like their sons except with huskier voices and big mustaches.

* There was an Ultimate White Guy Dance Party at the downtown bar Main Event following Brew Ha Ha. Not to brag but I think those of us who hit the dance floor that night showed the world that white guys can hump a bar stool like nobody else.

Batgirl Purple Rain > Batdance

Yvonne Craig was one of my first crushes when I was a kid. She appears at a lot of comic conventions but I’ve always avoided the opportunity to meet her. Meeting a childhood crush when she’s an old lady would be too Benjamin Button-ish for my liking.