< reviews MUSIC: Morrissey, Years of Refusal After the release of Ring Leader of the Tormentors in 2006, Morrissey is back with a telltale album. Years of Refusal is livened with caustic lyrics, energetic vocals and lively beats and tempos. Morrissey gives off energy by embedding his vocals with the edgy sound of the guitar through the album. The high-tempo tunes give fans a balance between the playful sounds in the scathing lyrics. On the first track, "Something Is Squeezing My Skull." Morrissey sings about the different brands of anti-depressants and carries it out with an upbeat tempo. He uses the same energy on other songs such as "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris," in which he talks about a lost love. In "All You Need is Me," he declares, "You don't like me but you love me/Either way you're wrong, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone." There's a guitar-heavy edgy sound in songs like "Sorry Doesn't Help" and "That's How People Grow Up." In "When Last I Spoke To Carol," the sound of the Spanish guitar creates a more festive beat. The added effect of the whistling gives it a more western cinematic tune. "It's Not Your Birthday Anymore" doesn't come off with the faster,edgy sound that was introduced in the previous songs. It's a mellow, techno sound that picks up during the chorus. Overall, fans won't be disappointed when they listen to Years of Refusal because of its fresh sounds and catchy, yet sinister lyrics. Brieun Scott BOOK: Tucker Max, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell Tucker Max, author of I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, is an asshole. He says so himself in his memoir, which is an alcohol-induced blur of the shots he takes and the women he beds during his stint at Duke Law School. Morally contradicting his prestigious education, Max scathingly narrates his beer-goggled trysts, providing jaw-dropping and revolting first-hand accounts of every pick up line and sexual position. Max's book was originally published in 2006 and has remained a New York Times best-seller for 72 weeks, and was recently re-released. New additions include tales of book tour debauchery, a drunken dictionary of definitions to gauge Max's lack of sobriety and a five-star rating system of the women he has slept with. The book's appeal is synonymous with Max's: honest, in-your-face, and entertaining. At times his rude and degrading behavior toward women cemented my own cynical outlook, but I kept turning every page, hoping for a hint of a nice guy. It never came. As if 300 ego-boosting pages aren't enough for Max, a second novel and a screenplay are in the works, replenishing the perpetual thirst for beer available in college bars, liquor stores and even Hell. — Kelci Shipley MOVIE:Fired Up! Following a pair of friends who opt out of football training camp for a cheer camp to broaden their sexual reach, Fired Up! has little redeeming factor other than that it is a fluid waste of time. We are spryly carried through its 90 minutes of laughs as cheap and innocuous as a sitcom rerun. A good insight into the humor of *Fired Up!* can be gleaned from the name of the summer cheer camp at the center of the movie — *Fired Up University* — "Give me a F, give me a U, what does that spell? FU!" Aside from its sitcomish humor, one of the film's many flaws is that it plays things too safe. Reneging on its teen-movie promise of exposed coed gallivanting on screen, Fired Up! chooses to keep its characters clothed (with the exception of one borderline offensive caricature of a gay cheerleader). This, I bet, was done to safeguard a PG-13 rating, which really doesn't mean anything with so many four-letter words flaunted in the film. Judd Apatow's comedies have shown crude and heart can work together, something that Fired Up! seemingly tries to do. But the filmmakers miscalculated raunch and the false redemption of the boorish central characters point to its cheap heart. — Chance Dibben MOVIE: The International For all its timely premise and layered storytelling, The International is a surprisingly generic action thriller. Even more baffling is that it's directed by Tom Tykwer, the German director who gave us great movies such as Run Lola Run and Perfume. Given this and the star power of Clive Owen and Naomi Watts, The International seems as if it should be poised to be a pretty taut, solid film. But it's not. The story centers on two agents, one from Interpol (Owen) and one from the New York DA's office (Watts) trying to bring down an international bank they think is a hotbed of laundering for international organized crime. Of course, the bank, the IBBC, is able to pull of all kinds of legal (and illegal) moves to keep witnesses from coming forward. If you guessed corporate loopholes and mounting body counts swept under the rug, you've got it. Owen's Agent Salinger is a driven, interesting character with a shadowy past—the kind of character he seems born to play. And the guy does play a good action hero. Armin Mueller-Stahl (Eastern Promises) also does a solid job as a bank board member who turns informant to Owen and Watts' characters. The weak link here is Watts. Normally, she's the kind of actress who can bring necessary gravitas to any role that requires it. But not here. She remains flat and seems to phone in her performance. Her character, Eleanor Whitman, is a motherly character, both in her role as an actual mother (she's married and has a son) and in her relationship to Owen's Agent Salinger. Overall, The International isn't a movie with a whole lot to say. The character relationships that might have saved it from mere mediocrity just aren't there. The action sequences are good, but they're just barely worth the wait. 18 Abby Olcese February 26, 2009 0008, AS TERMS ---