1/26/03
“We are not satisfied to be right, unless we can prove others to be quite wrong.” --- William Hazlitt
A BIG GULP CAN SAVE YOUR LIFE
Opening at number one is Darkness Falls, which I’ll never see, because, as we all know, I don’t like the scary. Usually, however, a horror premise does make me curious enough to wonder how it ends or what the creature looks like. Not so here. First of all, we see the monster in print ads, not to mention the commercials. And secondly, a monster that can be stopped by light? Why doesn’t the protagonist just go to a 7-11? The lights never go off there. Unfortunately, this would mean the end of the movie, so for this movie to work, I fear there is a never-ending series of incredibly stupid decisions by the characters in order to keep them in the dark, and that kind of shit I simply cannot watch.
TALKING KOALA = PURE GOLD
Kangaroo Jack is down to number two and it’s going to become a yearly tradition now to release any sort of crappy family film the second weekend of January. Just remember you have to have a talking animal of some sort. Doesn’t matter what kind, dog, kangaroo, monkey---just make sure you have it talk.
BUT THIS IS NO CONSOLATION TO BEBE NEUWIRTH
Chicago rises another notch to number three and somewhere right now Goldie Hawn and Madonna deluding themselves that they would have been just as good as Catherine Zeta Jones and Renee Zellweger. Thankfully, during the long road this took to the screen someone realized that both were simply too damn old (yes, she would have been playing the Renee Zellweger role) and the other both old and lacking in any real acting talent.
PEOPLE NEED HOBBIES
Just Married is down to number four, followed by National Security at number five and the quality discrepancy going on in this top ten list is scary indeed. I suppose stupid people need movies too, but do they have to be this dumb? And is there a gun to someone’s head forcing them to go? I know the annual academy bait can be a bit dreary, but damn! How empty is your life that you feel the need to see National Security?
TO BE THE RING BEARER/OR NOT TO BE THE RING BEARER…
The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is down to number six and why is it everyone in these sword and sorcery epics has to have an English-type accent? Yeah, I know it was filmed in New Zealand (a.k.a, we think we’re somehow different from Australia, but we’re not), but there are no Australian accents present. Is an English accent the only way you can feel dignified when you’re standing in front of a green-screen in a studio pointing a sword at a tennis ball on a string, yelling out stupid, made up names? We’re lucky it’s not in iambic pentameter.
BUT HE ALWAYS LOOKED LIKE AN ELF. ALWAYS
Catch Me If You Can is down to number seven and also in this film with Leo is Jennifer Garner who is more proof of my theory that people really don’t like their celebs to be too much prettier than they are. Look at Jennifer Anniston, Renee Zellwegger, Cameron Diaz and Julia Stiles. They outnumber the Halle Berrys and Jennifer Connellys five to one. Then again, if you really cast someone pretty against Leo, people will be forced to acknowledge that odd beauty he once had has been partied away and it’s not coming back. At least Montgomery Cliff had an excuse.
I CONFESS: I LOVED GENE, GENE, THE DANCING MACHINE
Confessions of a Dangerous Mind enters the top ten at number eight and allegedly directed by George Clooney it tells the supposed true life of Chuck Barris who was credited with the destruction of American culture (long before the current run of reality TV) by creating such game shows as The Dating Game, The Newlywed Game and The Gong Show. In his autobiography he also says that he was an assassin for the CIA. Uh-huh. A very stylish if not downright weird movie (the screenplay was by Charlie Kaufman, the man behind Being John Malkovich and Adaptation, if that tells you anything) it might have been brilliant had it not gone on for almost two freaking hours. From now on, no matter what Charlie Kaufman writes, you should automatically throw out the last thirty pages, because that’s almost always how much over his films go (each page equals one minute of screen time). George Clooney directed this, but given how much time he’s spent with Steven Soderbergh and the fact that Soderbergh is one of the producers, who can you really credit for this film’s look and feel? Not to mention that, between Clooney and Julia Roberts both being in the film and some other cameos, you have four of the Ocean’s 11. The most surprising appearance, however, is by Rutger Hauer. Wow. How long has it been since this man was in an A-list film? Now it seems he’s in every other bad movie on cable at 2 am. Drew Barrymore is also here and actually attractive to me for the first time in almost ten years (Wayne’s World 2 was the first and only time I thought she was hot). Of course, she shows up talking about how much she likes to have sex, so that may have had something to do with it.
OOH, OOH, WITCHY WOMAN…
About Schmidt is down to number nine, followed by The Hours, closing out the top ten at number ten and also in this film in supporting roles are Claire Danes, Jeff Daniels, and Miranda Richardson. Remember her? She was super-hot one year thanks to The Crying Game and Damage. Then a series of decent supporting work in movies no one cared about (Tom & Viv anyone?) and a run as evil witches in Merlin, Snow White and Sleepy Hollow. The sad thing is, she’s really hot as an evil witch, but I think that’s an English thing. Just thinking of Kristin Scott Thomas as an evil witch just gets me all tingly. What can I say? Like Alvy Singer in Annie Hall, I always preferred the evil queen in Disney’s Snow White & The Seven Dwarves. How could you not? Snow White was flat-chested and had that annoying as hell singing voice. I would have tried to kill her too.
“DOCTOR BANNER, BELTED BY GAMMA RAYS/TURNS INTO THE HULK…”
As always, the Super Bowl was a crashing bore with one team essentially dominating the other. This is why what we really watch for are the halftime show and the commercials. In my case, it was for The Hulk commercial. I had instant geek wood the moment he said, “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” Beyond that, I’ve got problems with the need to computer generate The Hulk, not to mention some plot details I’ve heard about…I actually enjoyed the pregame, with Santana and Beyonce Knowles doing “Oye Como Va” but then Michele Branch came out to forced everyone to mime to a track of “Game of Love” when Beyonce had just rocked it live. I used to like “Game of Love”, but her sad inability to do it live is leaving a bad taste in my mouth…the Ozzy Osbourne Pepsi commercial was undone by the fact that they are only good at being themselves. Even the smallest bit of dialogue comes off as wooden and false…cute points to the latest series of Budweiser commercials featuring the horses that play football for having a zebra as the ump. So obvious, yet so brilliant…on the other hand the one about the ugly guy whose girlfriend says it’s okay to date her roommate has got to go. I hate, hate, hate the bullshit illusion of ugly guys with hot girls…how dare they profane Kermit The Frog’s “Rainbow Connection”!?!…the Hanes commercial with Jackie Chan was a waste of Chan’s time and talents. I hope he was well paid at least…the Old Michael Jordan vs. Young Michael Jordan was okay. I just kept waiting for him to say to his younger self, “Don’t get married, man.”…how many years can Willie Nelson milk his tax problems for jokes?…All the Sprite, I mean, Sierra Mist commercials were lame…the Levis commercial with the Buffalo was equally lame and made no fucking sense. And why don’t they hire models with asses for jeans commercials…the Matrix commercials gave me more pleasure than sex…Daredevil will suck. The only question is “how much?”…the uselessness of a Charlie’s Angels sequel goes without saying. It makes sense this is Demi Moore’s comeback, as this is the type of empty, studio crap film she was best known for…It’s halftime and while I think Shania Twain is more than a little attractive, she needs to rehire the stylist from her videos, because it’s obvious that person is not dressing here…No Doubt does one song and it’s their oldest? What was the point?…In the first few moments of Sting doing “Message In A Bottle” I can’t help but recall there was a time when he actually rocked…I simply cannot watch this game anymore. I hate the Bucs and it hurts to watch them win it all.
SHE ATE HER OWN WEIGHT IN CROUTONS
Okay, because I’m fighting the battle of the bulge without actually going to the gym anymore (I canceled the membership), I eat salads more and I’ve noticed something about women and salads which may explain why they don’t do you any good. What’s point of eating well, when you eat five times as much!?! I can’t see how a cheeseburger and fries is any worse than a two-pound salad with everything under the fucking sun on top of it. Oh yeah, and a diet coke. Sigh. People, you are either born with abs that were meant to be seen or you weren’t . If you weren’t, then either accept a life of pure suffering to have them or get the hell out of my way so I can get some bacon bits!
ONE SMALL VICTORY FOR COMMON SENSE
So the judge smartly through out the case against McDonald’s. Thank god. Bad enough all these lame ass smokers are getting away with murder, blaming the world for their thirty year, five-pack-a-day habit, now lazy fat bastards like myself are trying to get paid for bags of Cheetos in front of the TNN James Bond marathon. How fucking bright do you have to be realize Big Macs and super-sized fries ARE NOT GOOD FOR YOU!?! I accept my ever-growing paunch and place the blame squarely where it belongs: my parents.
WHAT WILL TRIPLE GET YOU? $1550?
It’s not yet sweeps weeks, so why is there a special on porn on ABC? Imagine how much better this would have done ratings-wise with just one commercial during the Super Bowl? In any case it was mildly informative. Unfortunately, I seem to already know all there is about porn. What was truly fascinating was the story Diane Sawyer saw fit to ignore. She was so focused on “big corporate” involvement, she missed the story of the type of fucked-up family that gives birth to a porn star. And I can’t believe she was “shocked, shocked” that big corporations don’t care about the fact that porn makes them money. General Motors has military contracts, you stupid bitch! You think they give a shit about a few million generated from dirty movies, when they make billions on killing people? When they fought regulations that would have make cars safer and cleaner? Are you kidding me!?! In any case, Diane ignored the fact that almost all porn stars come from stripping because they learn the girls who make the most money dancing are porn stars. This “I came to be a model/actress” stuff is all bullshit. And if Belladonna (the main girl they profiled) started at 18, that means she was already dancing at 17, if not 16. In Utah. As a Mormon. And what about those tattoos? She was a heavily tattooed, teenaged Mormon stripper in Utah at the age of 17. You know how fucked up you have to be for that to happen? Yes, we learned she was raped at 14, but notice how they glossed over what happened after that. Her family put her away. Yeah, that didn’t do more harm than good. I’m sure it wasn’t to spare Air Force Captain and Mormon leader daddy any sort of embarrassment (daddy declined to be interview). And noticed, even though disgusted by her way of making money, no one turned down any of it. Her sister (who also had an ugly, painful tattoo in the middle of her chest, suggesting she too failed to escape childhood unscathed) never said, “I’d rather not go to college than have you fuck for it.” And after justifiably criticizing the porn industry, we find out that her mom later became her assistant in making porn films. Yeah, that’s a healthy family. Also, they ignore that she’s not that attractive. That’s why she has to do “double anal” to make a surprisingly small amount of money ($1500 for the world’s most painful enema). Sadly, the end result of all these shows is to show people how much money they can make for doing something with such little effort, in front of and behind the camera. Sorry, but I’d rather be double-analed for $1500 than humiliated for free on American Idol or any of these other shows and I’m sure I’m not alone. And honestly, what type of entertainment doesn’t depend on chewing up and spitting out young people? The music industry? Professional sports? Modeling? The only difference is that you don’t literally get fucked in the ass. But you’re just as likely to wind up broke and used up by the time you’re 25. 1/19/03
“Sin is a dangerous toy in the hands of the virtuous. It should be left to the congenitally sinful, who know when to play with it and when to let it alone.” --- H.L. Mencken
THAT AND SOME LAME SHOW ON THE SCI-FI CHANNEL WITH KARI WURHER
Kangaroo Jack opens at number one assuring that the writer (and I use that term loosely) Stephen Bing, the “baby daddy” of Elizabeth Hurley’s child will be able to continue child payments without being forced to touch his own near-billion-dollar inheritance. But it’s not a sign that the world is ending, the way most would assume. It’s simply the only kid’s film out there right now. It was this time last year that Snow Dogs topped the chart for the same reason. Apparently they realized their kids appeal in hindsight, as they cut the Estella Warren bathing scene and added scenes of the kangaroo talking after filming was initially complete. It’s sad, but Jerry O’Donnell is going to have to accept that his career peak was the fat kid in Stand By Me.
BAD BOYS 1 1/2
National Security opens at number two and this is apparently the movie Martin Lawrence made because he got tired of waiting for Will Smith to make Bad Boys 2 (which is actually coming this summer). It’s also his first $20M paycheck, so we desperately need it to fail and send this ugly, unfunny, rapidly-gaining-weight, fool back to TV, if not outright obscurity. And Steve Zahn is obviously here for a paycheck and nothing more. I like him, but it seems he’s destined to only a marginally better career than the man from whom he was cloned, Peter Scolari.
TIME TO BUY THE CAST MEMBER’S ONLY JACKETS
Just Married slips down to number three and given its decent take, we may have to crown Ashton Kutcher the new king of dumb comedies. Just in time too, as That 70’s Show is running on fumes. It should be the fucking 80’s at this point.
NEXT AL SHARPTON WILL BE PROTESTING
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is down to number four and in the world of people with nothing better to do with their time, some idiot is accusing this movie of racism, claiming that all the bad guys are non-white. They’re also NON-HUMAN, but this little fact seems to have escaped the moron in question. He needs to be confined to an island with the same idiot who tried to start a petition to have the movie renamed, because, in his infinite stupidity, thought they were trying to exploit the Twin Towers to make some money. Sigh. When I’m king there are going worldwide sterilizations. If you’re stupid, you will not breed---unless you’re really good looking.
A PARAGRAPH MOST STRAIGHT MEN CAN SKIP
Catch Me If You Can is down to number five, followed by Chicago at number six and while I’ve been informed that was original cast member Chita Rivera making a cameo in the film, I have to ask: where’s Ann Reinking, who was instrumental in bringing the show back a few years ago, not to mention being one of Fosse’s mistresses and muses? Why Chita and not Ann? And Janet Jackson will not be part of Chicago’s Oscar sweep (I’ll keep saying it until you believe me---Director, Picture and Actress are locked down) because the song she did for the closing credits was trashed for a new song by the musical’s original composers so they can taste a little Oscar glory.
THE STRAW ON THIS CAMEL’S BACK
In all my life, I cannot remember ever walking out on a film. No matter how horrible, I always stuck it through. It was almost like a badge of honor to me. You know like, Robert Shaw and Richard Dryfuss comparing scars in Jaws. “See that? Those are the brain cells I lost watching Mr. Deeds. And these over here died during Who’s That Girl? And this scar on my neck is from when my colon tried to strangle me to death during Eyes Wide Shut.” But the king is dead. I walked out of A Guy Thing, which opened at number seven this week. Bear in mind, I didn’t expect it to be good, but this is below TV movie comedy competence. It was the beginning of the end when Jason Lee was running around his apartment carrying Julia Stiles’s bikini bottoms because he couldn’t think of a way to hide them. Bikini bottoms. Fabric so then and small you can literally PUT THEM IN YOUR POCKET! The script was so lame it wanted us to think he couldn’t hide them---except in a place his fiancée (played by Selma Blair, who gets skinnier by the day) is going to find them. After that, the clichés come fast and furious. Her family is a bunch of snobs, his family is a bunch of slobs. She’s boring and controlling, so he’s immediately taken by the fact that Julia Stiles is a free spirit. And it SUCKS, SUCKS SUCKS! Julia Stiles has said she took this role because she was tired of playing dour and wanted a comedy. Well, honey, there’s more to a comedic performance than opening your eyes wide and constantly having your mouth half open.
EVEN WORSE, IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN PLAYED BY JLO
About Schmidt is down to number eight, and as much as I didn’t care for it, I must admit that some of the changes from the novel were an improvement. I’ve never read it, but in an article in the Sunday NY Times, the author comments on the adaptation, lamenting only the loss of Schmidt’s 20-year-old Puerto Rican lover whose sexual passion helps to reawaken him. Can you say “Stock Male Fantasy Character #1”? I think I speak for the nation when I say, the last thing any of us needed to see was Jack Nicholson with another woman a third of his age. The other changes were needless, stinking of pretentious, psuedo-intellectual snobbery. In the book, Schmidt is a rich man from Long Island and his daughter is marrying a hotshot Wall Street guy. Well, obviously we can’t have that, because it would deny the filmmakers the opportunity to make fun of working class people with no taste for brie and caviar, and we know those people don’t deserve to live. But considering Alexander Payne’s last adaptation was of Election (which was great) I would say he’s got a bone to pick with middle America.
THOUGH I’M SURE THERE’S SOME HOMOEROTIC SUBTEXT IN NATIONAL SECURITY AS WELL
The Hours breaks the top ten with less than 500 theaters, which is quite impressive. That said, you won’t find a gayer movie outside of Chicago. Sorry, but it is. This movie is so gay, I’d be surprised to find out the writer of the book it was based upon isn’t gay too. No, it’s not the same-sex kissing that every single lead actress engages in or the fact that Meryl Streep is taking care of Ed Harris, who’s dying of AIDS. No, it’s that five minutes into watching all of these depressing women makes you never want to date another woman again! It’s also the whole vibe of “oh, woe is me, borne into a world where I cannot find my place” emotional drama. That exists for two groups of people: gay men and teenage girls and since there are no teenage girls here… But the performances are good, with Nicole Kidman actually being the least of the three. Meryl Streep, of course, rules like the queen goddess of acting she is. Julianne Moore, her closest competitor, is also great, with the pain of living oozing out of every pore of her being for every second she’s onscreen. She’s the reason Catherine Zeta Jones won’t win the Best Supporting Oscar (and if she’s this good in Far From Heaven, she could keep it from Renee Zellweger as well).
“I’M AT MY MOST SERIOUS WHEN I’M JOKING” TAKES ON A WHOLE NEW MEANING HERE
Finally, Two Weeks Notice Closes out the top ten at number ten and this film gets bonus points for being the first film I’ve seen that shows the Manhattan skyline was it is without flinching. You know that shot that every film set in New York has, coming in from the Atlantic onto the tip of Manhattan where the Twin towers were? You’ve seen it a hundred times, but in this film you see it the way it is now. It’s freaky and weird, but it’s real and I’d rather that than all these pussy films that avoid it entirely. Do you take down grandpa’s photos after he dies too, you wimps!?!
SO NAMED FOR ALL THE BOOBS HANGING OUT
So the Golden Globes were last night, and for only the second year in my life have I watched them. Sorry, but their continuing makeover into a respectable body will always die at the utterance of two little words: Pia Zidora. Her husband bought her this award once and I can never take them seriously because of it. On the upside, they serve liquor, so you get nice scenes like last night, when the great Meryl Streep was obviously gettin’ her drink on…yes, I watch Joan Rivers, but I can only do it in small doses, because it sickens me very easily to watch people actually attempt to kiss her ass…someone should tell Jennifer Garner that when your breasts are so small they look like folds of skin, you should wear a dress that hides them…Robin Williams, your daughter is too pretty. In a few years she’s going to make your life a living hell for leaving mommy for the nanny…my favorite moment of any red carpet is the entrance of Cameron Diaz, whose heavy-lidded eyes and eternally mussed hair makes her always look like she just got laid in the limo while smoking a joint. I think she was fucked up. That’s why someone had to come get her to take her into the awards. She was standing still, but to her, it looked like the world was moving…Lara Flynn Boyle shows the type of outfits she has to wear to help Jack get it up. I’m sure she’s got a Dominatrix Nurse and Dominatrix Cheerleader outfit to go along with that Dominatrix Ballerina…the other sad entrance was that of Sharon “Remember Me?” Stone. Could anyone have been more desperate? Not since Judy Garland have we seen this desperate a need for public approval…Meryl Streep is a goddess to me, so her award was well deserved, except that, in a Pulp Fiction type of faux-pas, she was nominated in the wrong category. Just as Samuel L. Jackson was the star of his segment of Pulp Fiction and deserved a Best Actor nod, Meryl, Julia and Nicole were each the stars of their segments. Obviously, she’d started her drinking, as she readjusted her breasts onstage…we almost had a “life imitates art” situation when someone laughed at Edie Falco’s laryngitis. Judging by the looks on the faces of The Sopranos cast, someone was about to get a real-life New Jersey beat-down if he didn’t shut the fuck up…Debra Messing is never going to get anything unless Will & Grace runs for ten years, so she should just be content to try and look good at these things. By the way, I hated that dress she wore…Why is Laura Linney trying that curly hoochie hair?…Jamie Lee Curtis scares the hell out of Paul “Pretty Boy” Walker, who in addition to being as dumb as a rock, doesn’t know how to improvise. Oh, well. It’s why god made him pretty…Richard Gere kills his Oscar chances (not that he had any) with a long rambling speech which allows the attention hungry Sharon Stone more time on camera…Renee Zellweger wins and deserves it, but for god’s sake, can we do something about that hard, squinty carnie-trash look of hers?…Alexander Payne wins for adapting Adaptation and his date is Sandra Oh, best known as “Rita” on the godawful “Arliss”? Jesus, what is it with geeks and ugly Asian women?…Andy Garcia’s daughter is as pretty as Lorezno Lamas’s son is skeevy…Annette Bening. Remember her? She threw it all away to make babies for one of the sleaziest men alive…I’m going to start missing a lot because there’s a new episode of Taxicab Confessions on HBO, but I could really care less about The Shield and its wins anyway. ..Bono, shut the fuck up…Kim Catrall wins for Sex & The City, and in defense of Kristin Davis, she is “the straight man” for that show, so it looks like she’s doing nothing, when actually being the foil isn’t easy. And this has nothing to do with my realization that she’s got a big ass, but hides it like nuclear secrets. No, baby. Let it out. This is the age of JLo. Ain’t nobody mad ‘atcha…Hope Marty enjoys that Golden Globe, because it’s all he’s gettin’ and he only got that because Chicago is in a separate category at the Golden Globes…What the fuck do you mean Hero gets a best foreign film nod? Where was it released!?! I’m freaking dying to see that movie which stars Jet Li, Maggie Chun, Donnie Yen, Tony Leung and Ziyi Zhang (as King of The Geeks, I only like Asian women who are genuinely attractive). Thankfully, it’s coming on DVD this February…I’m back to see Scott Rudin drag a drunk Meryl Streep onstage with Nicole Kidman and Julianne Moore while accepting his award. He hates Harvey Weinstein. Supposedly over business, but I know it was over a buffet line…and Halle’s won that dress before.
NEXT WEEK I TAKE ON A HOMELESS GUY IN FRONT OF GRISTEDE’S
So, after my guitar lesson, I’m in the Western Beef on West End Ave., which is well-known as kind of a discount supermarket. I get more than I plan to because it’s so cheap, but while I’m waiting in line, this woman comes up to me and wants me to give her $11.50 in cash for what’s remaining on her Food Stamps card. Why? Well, class, what are the things you can’t buy with Food Stamps that you can with cash? The same things this woman smelled of. That’s right, booze and cigarettes. Needless to say, I refused, to which she replied indignantly, “Why not!?!” Suddenly I’m on the defensive against a welfare drunk. I maintained, so she moved on to the Puerto Rican grandmother in front of me, who was locked up in a transaction, which gave her a way out. Rejected twice, she pushed pass me again and said, “Bye, you ugly-ass man,” before heading over to her 6’3” boyfriend who was waiting to see if she got their drinkin’ money. She told him no and then began to talk about me in away that had me looking back over my shoulder for them all the way home. That was enough for me. From now on I’ll be shopping at the overpriced D’Agastino’s where I’m sure never to see her.
AM I THE ONLY PERSON TOO DRUNK TO TALK IN A CAB?
So, I love HBO Taxicab Confessions for the reason most people do: we’re waiting for someone to start fucking. Oh, the dirty talk will do, but we’re there for the sex and nudity. This latest one was set in Vegas again, and was focusing in on women. The first was the best segment. Three drunk women talking about how they have sex with each other and how they like it with their boyfriends. Most notable was the one who went on about how she likes to lick her boyfriend’s ass and how she soaks the bed. Later came the two strippers, one of whom was complaining about how her sugar daddy had suddenly vanished on her after buying her eight grand worth of furniture, her breast implants, paying for her schooling and another $2K a month on top of that. Then we got into her critiquing her friend’s sex life (she’d watched her), concluding, “She’s much more passionate with me.” This no real surprise, because if you’re ever met a stripper (and I have) they tend to sleep with each other. Not because they’re all gay, but if you work in a coffee shop, even if you don’t like coffee, you’re going to at least sample it from time to time just to try and understand why people love it so damn much.
I THINK IT’S IN OUR DNA
I like to think I’m better than most men because, quite frankly, I am. For example: the idea of Jamie Pressley and Tiffani Amber-Thiessen making out on Fastlane does nothing for me. It’s two hipless, assless women getting’ it on. In other words, it might as well be two men. On the other hand, I’m just like all the other knuckle-dragging morons at the sight Roseanna Arquette rubbing down Debra Messing (and getting to third base) on Will & Grace. That made my night. Now, if only Jennifer Esposito and Drea DeMatteo turn out to be lovers in this movie about a rock band they’re making with Joan Jett (who probably has similar thoughts).
1/12/03
“Idiot. You wouldn’t have this problem if you had killed yourself after the prom like I told you to.” --- Andy Richter---talking to himself on his show “Andy Richter Rules The Universe.”
YOUNG, DUMB & PRETTY…SAME FOR HER
Just Married opens at number one heralding the beginning of the “no good movie” season. See the opening of every year is when studios dump their garbage and devote their time to try and get their quality work of the previous year some type of an award. Ashton Kutcher may be the new king of the “dopey guy” comedy and if nothing else, he’s a helluva lot easier on the eyes than either Bill Murray or Adam Sandler. I think that’s the key here. You’ve got the dumb comedy a frat boy wants to see, along with some eye candy for dumb girl with him (someone she can fantasize about for the three minutes he’s on top of her later). There may be some Brittney Murphy fans who helped put this at number one, but I chalk it up the pretty boy---and that every other movie in release is two hours long and depressing as all hell.
OTHERS
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is down to number two, followed by Catch Me If You Can at number three.
NOTHING FROM NOTHING LEAVES NOTHING
Two Weeks Notice is down to number four and Alicia Witt appears in this as Sandra Bullock’s competition for Hugh Grant. She’s shed some babyfat, which l sadly eaves her as nondescript as you can get. It’s similar to what happened to Jennifer Grey when she got her beak hacked off, but I call it “Molly Ringwald” disease, because being a pale, skinny redhead doesn’t help when your face already lacks any character.
SOMETIMES BEING SHALLOW IS JUSTIFIED
About Schmidt holds at number five and this movie contains what you’ve all been waiting for: Kathy Bates nude! The saddest part is, the camera does add ten pounds but no one will ever believe her if she says it. Oh, yeah. Jack Nicholson also shows his senior citizen ass. It’s a horror show all around.
ROSE COLORED GLASSES DON’T WORK ON A BALANCE SHEET
Chicago jumps into the top ten at number six, though still less than 400 hundred theaters. It seems Miramax learned from the failure of Fox with Moulin Rouge how to sell a musical (don’t let them try to rewrite the past---it was a disappointment financially upon its theatrical release). Then again, Miramax is an old hand at the “slow rollout” of a film. But if Catherine Zeta-Jones was divorcing Michael Douglas at the time of Chicago’s release (the way Nicole was getting divorced from Tom), you can be damn sure they would have had it in every theater possible. Screw word of mouth.
HOW DOES ONE SAY “TALENTLESS HACK” IN CANTONESE?
Maid In Manhattan is down to number six and Wayne Wang is proving that people of all races can make the same crappy studio product if only given the chance. I look forward to the day when directors of all races, colors and creeds are hated with the same intensity of Michael Bay.
A COUPLE OF GUYS NAMED “CHEECH” WILL HAVE TO “ESCORT” ME
Gangs of New York is down to number eight and I still can’t find it in me to see this. I’m trying, I really am, but my feeling is apparently shared by most of the world. This film cost $100M and unless people overseas are even crazier than we think, there’s no way in the world it’s going to make it back.
LIGHT, BRIGHT AND DAMN NEAR WHITE
Antwone Fisher enters the top ten at number nine so long as we’re airing the dirty laundry about Black people and the stupid, stupid names they give their children, let’s bring up the fact that the Black women in this film are noticeably lighter than the Black men (but only the love interests). And there’s no one to blame because Denzel is the director. But hey, it’s always nice to see Salli Richardson (she plays Denzel’s wife) in any capacity. But the skinner she gets, the older she looks. Eat a sandwich, girl. The love interest for Antwone Fisher, Joy Bryant, is nice enough, but you get the feeling the only reason she’s here is because Zoe Saldana was busy making Drumline at the time, as she (Zoe) is the go-to-girl when you need a love interest for a young Black man (here and the aforementioned Drumline) or best friend to the young White girl (Crossroads, Centerstage). The funny thing is, she’s Dominican, not Black. Hopefully, she won’t be as stupid as Rae Dawn Chong, who couldn’t shut up about the fact that she wasn’t really Black. Bet she’d be Black now if it gave her a job.
PRETENTOUS LITTLE INDIE BASTARDS
Finally, Adaptation closes out the top ten at number ten and the more I think about it, the more the last half hour of this film pisses me off. It’s such an attempt to be clever at the cost of everything else in the world, that it totally justifies the popular dismissal of independent film. God forbid you fucking foreign film loving, bleak-ending demanding, sons-of-bitches ever, ever put the actual audience above your masturbatory filmmaking needs. There comes a time when every artist must acknowledge that everything he does is totally useless UNLESS SOMEONE IS WILLING TO LOOK AT IT!!!
THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN NEW GRIT AND OLD GRIT: PRETTIER ACTORS
Not in the top ten is Narc, a film that is so 70’s gritty, I kept waiting for the sounds of “wakka-wakka” guitar to come up over the soundtrack. We’re talking three-quarter length leather coats, winter ski caps, shaggy beards and mustaches in a no-nonsense crime drama set in Detroit in the dead of fucking winter. Thirty years ago, this film would have ideally starred Al Pacino and been directed by Sidney Lumet or Martin Scorcese. If there’s a bleaker setting that fighting drug dealers in Detroit, I don’t know about it and I live in fucking New York. In a way, this could be called Rush II, because Jason Patric looks and plays a similar role of a narcotics agent who goes a little too deep undercover, but that part of the story is over and done in the first five minutes, a five minutes so intense, that if you show up late, you might as well just go home and wait for the next show. It cannot be missed, because it sets the tone for everything that follows. Ray Liotta continues the resurgence of his career, realizing that if you’re an intense looking guy (and he is) romantic comedy leads will never be a part of your life. Also, he’s listed as one of the producers, so he’s realized sometimes you just have to make the good work for yourself.
HOW MUCH OF A MAN AM I?
If you were in Hell’s Kitchen on Friday night and saw a manly-man carrying home a seven-foot bookcase, that was me. Sorry, but I’m not paying anyone to deliver something a block and a half. Also, I carried the last one (another seven footer) home too, but that time I borrowed a dolly and my roommate’s boyfriend at the time helped me carry it up the stairs. This time it was all me, baby. Okay, fine. So it was only pine and I brought the shelves home earlier, but still. Now there are no books on the floor and my DVD’s are filed one row to a shelf (instead of the double row they’ve had for the last year). Not to mention I was finally able to remove those milk crates from my apartment. I’m a little too old to have that shit. Hopefully a nice 20-something picked them up off the street the same way I once did.
HOW MUCH OF A GAY MAN AM I?
While carrying my bookcase into my apartment, one of my neighbors---a nice gay boy--- said to me, “That’s lovely.” Being the half-a-queer I am, I, of course, thought he was talking about the lovely red scarf my roommate knitted and gave to me for Christmas. No, he was talking about the bookcase. Sigh. I’m gonna have to cancel that subscription to In Style. It’s killing me.
GANGS OF NEW YORK
One of the primary motivations for the new bookcase, aside from the limited fucking space in my home, was my ever-growing DVD collection. Even though I don’t buy like I used to (damned guitar lessons), it’s still growing and I just hit the 250 mark. That title was THE WARRIORS. Yes, the classic now has a place on my shelves. And DVD is wonderful. It makes it so easy to jump from scene to scene. I immediately went to my favorite scene: the new leader of The Gramercy Riffs calling out for the Warriors (give me a quarter and I’ll do my impression of him for you): “Who are these Warriors? I want these Warriors. Alive, if possible; if necessary, wasted!” After that I like to watch Debra Van Valkenburgh appear as The Skank who taunts The Orphans; then The Baseball Furies, The Lezzies (and how obvious is it now that the one Warrior not interested in them was gay?) and the great “Warriors, come out to play-ee-ay! War-ri-ors, come out to play-ee-ay!” And you know what? It’s still shrill and damned annoying after almost thirty years. I understand they’re trying to remake it. How? What makes The Warriors work is its almost naiveté about what gangs really are (ever wonder why they just don’t steal a car?). And now everyone has a gun. The Orphans break a bottle? You’ve got a gun. The Baseball Furies have bats? You’ve got a gun. Now, The Lezzies had a gun, so you’ll need an Uzi. But those guys in the striped shirts who came into the bathroom on roller skates? Shit, you don’t need a gun to take out their sorry asses. And that hip-hop remake of Joe Walsh’s “In The City” is something that really doesn’t need to happen.
“DEAR HEFNER/I DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU/I NEVER MEANT TO MAKE YOU CRY/BUT TONIGHT I’M CLEANING OUT MY CLOSET…”
Since I was already cleaning up and reorganizing (I’m strangely anal that way) I also launched into a long overdue task: clearing a decade’s worth of old Playboys out of my closet. First, I cherry picked it. My Cindy Crawford and Gabrielle Reece issues stay with me (not to mention Roseanna Arquette, Tia Carrere and yes, Sandra Bernhard). Then I decided to keep the few issues when the centerfold was a minority with real breasts (yes, all five issues). After that, I tried to decide what could be sold off on ebay (god bless ebay). You wouldn’t believe how many fucking times Pamela Anderson was in that magazine. I even had the first one, when she was all natural and normal. Jenny McCarthy (remember her?) was also in a half-a-dozen issues. I even bundled up the model issues (Elle Macpherson, Naomi Campbell, two issues with Stephanie Seymour, Kylie Bax and a few other lesser lights), the Farrah Fawcett issues and the celebrity issues (Sharon Stone, Drew Barrymore, Charlize Theron, Uma Thurman) to try and unload them online, not to mention a group of Anna Nicole Smith issues, so you can watch her balloon up over time. Still, this left me with four very large stacks that got dumped outside Saturday night in twenty-degree weather. By Sunday afternoon, two were gone. By the same token, I placed three issues featuring wrestling chicks on ebay in the wee hours of Sunday morning. By the time I woke up Sunday afternoon, they’d been sold. Hmm, this may just buy daddy some more DVD’s. Needless to say, I won’t be buying Allison Eastwood in the new one. Does this not reek of desperation? She should just start dating Julian Lennon and get it over with. And if she’s Clint’s daughter, why does she look just like Cybil Shepard?
“NOBODY GETS TOO MUCH HEAVEN NO MORE…”
Maurice Gibb is dead!?! Shit. I love the Bee Gees. I mean, I fucking love the Bee Gees. And not in any “so bad they’re good” way either. I mean, I‘ve got their greatest hits collection and I’ve tortured my officemate at work more than once with them. Damn, this really sucks. This sucks like Joe Strummer dying sucks. And to think of how much fucking space The Dave Matthews Band takes up on a daily basis, seeming unthreatened by Death’s icy grip.
THE BEST AND WORST THING ABOUT PORN: FINDING A STAR YOU LIKE
Though my porn viewing has cut down over the last few years (damn guitar lessons, dvd’s and comic books), I do habit the occasional rental and this time I made horrible mistake of actually running across a porn star who looks like Bridget Fonda. Yeah, she’s got a gigantic ass that apparently has never seen a Stairmaster, but still… Sigh. There goes all my money.
I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE…NOBODY MAKING $20M A PICTURE
It’s been slim pickings on the celebrity front these past few months. I’ve seen the male lead, the female lead (in full makeup) and the writer director of the new Flower Drum Song all on 8th Avenue at one point or another, but who the fuck really cares? On the other hand there’s Chris Rock going to get his car out the garage on 49th Street (where I also saw Stanley Tucci)…Ana Gastmyer, the soon to be forgotten SNL member on 43rd Street, and some character actor I’ve seen in a million movies, but wouldn’t know his name to save my life---which is why he’s a character actor. Oh, well.
REALITY IS A CRUTCH FOR THOSE WHO CAN’T HANDLE SCIENCE FICTION
I tried to watch Joe Millionaire because I think it’s simply the most brilliant premise for a show ever. Get a bunch of gold-digging skanks together and have them compete for nothing. Personally, I think they chickened out by hiring a part-time model They should have gotten some short, fat, ugly guy (I’m available!) and made them compete for him. Then you would have seen the most depraved depths of humanity. Another big mistake was, they can’t do it again, because now everyone will be on to them. They should have done four or five “Joe Millionaire’s” all over the world at the same time. How could they not know this would be a hit? What do people like watching more than someone else’s humiliation? They should have also done a male version, because the male gold digger exists too. Now then you would have seen some sleaze! As far as Joe Millionaire goes, first the guy isn’t that great. He’s looks much, much better in photographs than he does on video, because video is unforgiving. And what’s with that nasty hair? But the women are hysterical. Notice how none of them seemed to come from LA or New York. You know why? Because they would have pegged him for a fake instantly. When you have millionaires around you all the time, you learn how to spot them.