4/25/05
“Immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control affairs.” --- Andrew Carnegie
HABLA?
The Interpreter opens at number one and I meant to see this, but for some odd reason there were no early shows. Everything was starting at noon and that’s when other people are up. I will see it, because I like Nicole Kidman and have a weakness for big-budget films set in New York. Believe it or not, this is only her second film to open at number one. To this day, despite her Academy Award winning A-list status, her presence is anything but a sure moneymaker. Her biggest hit was a genre film, The Others, and even her buddy Naomi Watts’ film, The Ring, ultimately made more money. Don’t throw Moulin Rouge at me. It only made $50M domestic. The other $125M was overseas. By that standard she’s a Vin Diesel type of star. After this, Sean Penn says he’s going to take a break from acting. THANK FUCKING GOD! He may be a damn good actor, but he is one of the most annoying, humorless fucks on the planet. And I can’t believe no one throws that Iraqi trip in his face more. I’d never let him fucking forget it.
WITH GWYNETH PALTROW IN THE DONNA DIXON ROLE!
The Amityville Horror is down to number two, followed by Sahara at number three and Steve Zahn has the funny best pal thing down to a fucking science and I still believe that Peter Scolari (from whom Steve Zahn was cloned) calls Tom Hank up drunk and points out that he could have been this for him in all his movies, even Philadelphia. “You know, I could have helped take the edge off, ‘cause it was seriously depressing, dude. Hey, you read my script for ‘Bosom Buddies: The Move’ yet? We can still do it!” Even when serious, Zahn is still on the funny tip, having played Rosencrantz in the Ethan Hawke Hamlet. Yes, Ethan Hawke was Hamlet, an ugly development made possibly by Mel Gibson playing his Lethal Weapon type Hamlet.
DUDE, CAN YOU FIND ME A GOOD SCRIPT?
A Lot Like Love opens at number four and when is Ashton Kutcher going to give up and just give the world what it wants: the sequel to Dude, Where’s My Car? They were planning it. The title? “Seriously Dude, Where’s My Car?” I’m not kidding. I might actually pay to see something with such a shamelessly stupid name. Until then, the only thing people will pay to see him do onscreen is fuck Demi Moore. But Amanda Peet…damn, baby, no one can say you didn’t try your damnedest, but it’s been five years since The Whole Nine Yards, six since Jack & Jill and almost ten since you were in One Fine Day with George Clooney and it’s still not happening. Time to get that TV show and get some security for when you’re too old to play the young girl any more, cause it’s gonna be up in about…three, two, one… This is a romantic comedy and I love romantic comedies, so do you know how freaking lame you have to be to keep me out of your movie? Well, this movie looks that freaking lame. Even taking place in New York and San Francisco, two of my favorite places, can’t move me. Also, it looks like it’s just them. All the fucking time. Sorry, but neither is that appealing and something should have been done about bumping up charming co-stars. Unfortunately for them, Steve Zahn was off making a movie in Africa.
THE DRAGON, BABY. HE WAS THE DRAGON!
Kung Fu Hustle enters the top ten this week at number ten and obviously it was this week it went wide, not last week like I said. And Stephen Chan has my eternal respect for saying the shadow of Bruce fucking Lee was over this production, not Jackie Chan or Jet Li. Bruuuuuuuuuccccce!
AND THE SHOWSTOPPER “YIPPIE-KI-YAY MUTHAFUCKA” WITH DANCING GIRLS
Fever Pitch is down to number six and somewhere Adam Sandler is laughing to himself as he ignores Drew Barrymore’s text messages, emails and phone calls. Especially with the news that The Wedding Singer is coming to Broadway. Yep, making musicals out of movies is now a standard practice on Broadway. Didn’t quite take with using an actual musical, like Singing In the Rain years ago, but original songs for old movies clicks. I’m waiting on the enterprising individual who decides to try an action movie or drama. “You can’t stop me/I’m Dying Hard/A New York Cop me/I’m Dying Hard/I’m outnumbered and outgunned/The odds are ten two one/But unlike you I never miss/So I’m Dying Haaaarrrrrrrd!” Matthew Broderick is John McClane in “Die Hard: The Musical.”
WHO DOES A 2,000 POUND GORILLA HIRE AS A DIRECTOR? ANYONE HE WANTS.
Sin City is down to number seven and speaking of Die Hard, Bruce Willis is going to make a fourth one and for some stupid reason, rather than trying to get Robert Rodriguez or Quentin Tarantino to do it, he wants the same guy who did Hostage (which has grossed half of what Sin City has, while costing almost twice as much). Why? Because he can boss the little French guy around. A real director would actually be able to tell him what to do. Oddly enough, he’ll take that when he’s working for scale on an indie film, but when he’s getting paid $20M he won’t.
BUT IT’S STILL A BAD THING
Guess Who is down to number eight, giving Ashton Kutcher two mediocre movies in the top ten. But don’t worry. The signs of the apocalypse are when those movies are number one and number two. Then we will know the end is nigh.
“THE NY TIMES SAYS I’M MERCURIAL, NOW GIVE ME THE RED RAGTOP”
Robots is down to number nine, with King’s Ransom opening in the top ten at number ten and usually this type of ghetto comedy goes straight to video or Black Starz (hey, where’s Asian Starz or Indian Starz or…?). Sigh. Everyone in it must have desperately needed to make a car payment, because I cannot believe for a second they thought this was a good script. Not to mention Donald Faison, Charlie Murphy and Kellita Smith have real jobs on well-written shows. This had to be like pulling teeth for them. But hey, Lexus doesn’t take critical praise as payment.
NO THREAT TO SUNDANCE ANYTIME SOON
One of the reasons I didn’t have enough time to see The Interpreter this week was because of the Tribeca Film Festival, where, in fact, I saw two other movies (celeb sightings were few, just Alan Cummings and Tiffany Amber-Thiessen?). The first was Layer Cake, the directorial debut of Matthew Vaughn, who was the producer of Guy Richie’s films. He sticks to what he knows in this portrayal of a smooth drug dealer looking to retire soon, only to have his entire well-organized world go completely to shit in less than a week thanks to reckless, wannabe gangsters, vengeful Slavic mobsters, icy hitmen, unsettled scores by his crew and one industrial titan with an underworld sideline. It’s nothing new, but neither is a simple piece of chocolate cake from a decent restaurant, but if it’s done well you really don’t need more. Unlike Ritchie’s films, this one is serious, but don’t think it’s lacking a sense of humor. Starring in this is the rumored next Bond, Daniel Craig, who was there along with the director and he dismissed the rumors as just that, rumors. Besides, though he does have sex appeal (his blue eyes allowed him to play Paul Newman’s son in The Road To Perdition), he’s not good looking enough or tall enough to be Bond (at six feet even, he’d be the shortest Bond ever). I also saw an indie film called Satellite, because an actress (Stephanie Szostak) I cast in a short film was the lead and is being pushed as a new Audrey Tatou (I suspect this is essentially because she’s French, because Stephanie is so pretty it physically hurts, whereas Audrey Tatou is funny looking). Yes, I made a short film once. It was the result of severe depression and being forced to cash in my vacation days, but it’s too long a story to get into now. In any case, since I didn’t pay her (or anyone else for that matter) and overlayed all her lines with music (essentially cutting them) I felt some obligation in supporting her film. Not to mention it’ll now allow me to say, “I knew her when.” It was a “character driven” indie piece shot on digital video, which is to say “plot-less” and “looks like crap.” It’s about a couple who decides to push each other to following their most reckless impulses, which leads to them quitting their good jobs, buying a motorcycle and shoplifting. Finally, when they’re out of money, rather than just getting jobs, they begin stealing. This is when they lost me, because why should I give a fuck about someone who’d rather steal a wallet or purse than work? The script definitely needed another pass and I could have told you where it was going to end about a third of the way through, but she was good in her role, making me wish I could have done something to keep her more in my film. I liked her better with long hair, but as you all know, there’s a French law that says brunettes must have short hair and blondes keep it long. Such a funny people.
MINUTIAE AND THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE IT
IMDB.com is one of my favorite sites, but never so much as when it identified Mandy Amano as the girl who danced around the in the kitchen to “Rich Girl” in the Pepsi commercial. As you remember, she was the best part to me. Pretty soon they’ll be able to tell who unnamed extras are in movies, so you can find “Third Buttocks From The Right” in a shower sequence. We are living in an age of wonders, people.
LOOKS & EXPERIENCE VS. TAUT, YOUNG FLESH
Naomi Watts must be either very drunk or very angry (or both) right now. Heath Ledger, her ex-boyfriend is now dating Michelle Williams and has knocked her up. Bear in mind 36-year-old Naomi Watts spoke openly about wanting to have a child while with 26-year-old Heath Ledger. Needless to say, it didn’t happen and now he’s turned around and impregnated 24-year-old Michelle Williams. Ouch. That’s gotta hurt. Especially when there’s no contest in the looks department. As a friend of mine suggested, if Nicole Kidman has any power, Heath Ledger’s already non-career is pretty much over now.
SUDDENLY ROBBIE NEVIL FEELS A CHILL ACROSS HIS HEART
Sir John Mills, Prince Rainer of Monaco, and even the guy who sang “Judy In Disguise (With Glasses)”(which is a play on “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds”). Damn, even one-hit wonders aren’t save from Death’s icy touch. Not to mention both Tom Snyder and the lead singer of LFO have leukemia. Yep, he’s finally being punished for that stupid “Abercrombie & Fitch” song.
THE PRICE
So, my latest song obsession is now “1 Thing” by Amerie. I ignored her and it the first time I heard it weeks ago. I ignored her again when my friend, O.G. (Original Geek) mentioned her to me. But last week, the song came on and took root in my mind and now I can’t get it out. I’ve downloaded all three versions (the song, the remix with Jay-Z, the remix with Eve) and cannot stop playing them. She’s half-Black and half-Korean (yes, dad was a career military man) and while that does look good, a price had to be paid. Yes, the Asian side of her completely destroyed her Black ass. It’s gone. Nothing. Zip. The funny thing is, since so many Black people do tend to have almond eyes, this is her only real distinguishing Asian characteristic. That and the Korean characters tattooed on her lower back.
SELFISH BASTARD
Okay, so my week with the dog is over and I’ve come away a bit wiser. After cleaning up piss and shit for a week (the dog sadly has arthritis in her hind legs and subsequently will sometimes collapse, unable to move, in her own shit, which I then had to clean off of her) my desire for a child has been snuffed out. I can’t do it. I just can’t. Also, the dog had a habit of looking at me on the toilet, which I didn’t like either, which means marriage is now also out of the question. So basically, I’ve learned I’m incapable of giving love to others and will be alone forever. I’m going to have it put on a t-shirt so that no one can claim they weren’t warned.
DON’T MESS WITH PERFECTION
Okay, so as you can see, they’ve made some changes to the Superman costume and no, I’m not happy. First of all, it’s bright primary colors for a fucking reason. Superman is a bright shiny symbol of hope. He’s not fucking brooding, so what is this blood red shit? And the “S” on his belt? Who is that for, the dwarves who can’t see the one on his chest or his cape? And why is the one on his chest so small and a freaking plate? And the speedos… But
other than that he looks great. Except for the fact he kinda looks like Chris Noth's son.
4/18/05 OOOO! YOU’VE GOT WEAK CALVES!
OOOO!
Opening at number one is The
Amityville Horror and I don’t do the scary and even when I did do the scary, I didn’t see the original Amityville Horror. See, I made the mistake of reading some of the book and it fucked me up, so the movie was out of the question. This remake looks anything but scary, but I’m still not going to see it. But this does lend credence to the movie cliché of the stupid people who go towards the danger even when it’s painfully obvious. These were real people who claimed this happened to them, but still they wouldn’t get the fuck out of the house. I can understand the first few times. You write it off to an old house and your imagination, but I’d say around the two-week mark the Motel 6 down the road starts looking pretty fucking good! I mean, when the priest bails, you know you’ve got something worse than old pipes. Also, this has supposedly been disproven anyway (aside from never, ever calling the police about anything that happened to them, apparently after fleeing the house in terror, the father returned to hold a garage sale), so why not make a movie about that? And while I like seeing attractive people onscreen, doesn’t it kinda take you out of the film when your average all-American dad is cut like a freaking statue!?! It’s ridiculous! You might as well have Pamela Anderson play the mom and ask people to take that seriously. I half-expect a scene where the ghost is stealing the yellow out of the eggs or spotting dad as he does a little lifting (“Get out…but not before you give me five more reps.”).
SOMETIMES IT’S NOT SO MUCH “WRITING” AS “TYPING”
Sahara is down to number two
because people like being scared more than they like Indiana Jones doppelgangers
and remember how fucking stupid I told you the original book was (Abraham
Lincoln’s corpse is found in the ship in Africa because the Confederacy apparently kidnapped him) and why they were smart to change it? Well, Clive Cussler---who wrote himself into one of his books as being very much like his super-macho hero---is suing because he was guaranteed approval over the script and they cut him out of the loop. He’s apparently swearing to take this to court so the world can see what happened. I’m sure his lawyer is secretly fighting this the way Michael Jackson’s lawyers are fighting his desire to take the stand to prove how smart and sane he really is. If this idiot thinks letting the public see how “wrong” the producers were in taking out the Abraham Lincoln kidnap plot is going to help him, he’s looking at a lot of legal fees and some serious embarrassment. Did I mention that the hero eventually learns that he’s got two kids he never knew about who have independently grown up to follow exactly in his footsteps and adore the father they’ve never known? And that Clive Cussler’s own son helps him write those stupid stories? Yeah, he’d
better take the first settlement Paramount offers.
IT’S CALLED #%$& FOOTBALL,
MATE!
Fever Pitch is holding at number
three and technically this is a remake. The first version of Fever Pitch
was eight years ago and faithful to the Nick Hornsby book and set in England
about a guy an a soccer team and starred Colin Firth. Yes, the Hugh Grant
for women who don’t they’re pretty enough for Hugh Grant. It was also more about the obsession with the team and less about the romance, not to mention being rated “R” ‘cause Brits can’t
talk about freaking soccer without intense cursing or the occasional barroom
brawl which leads to a few deaths.
“I WORE THE THONG BECAUSE I WANTED TO STRETCH AS AN ACTRESS…”
Sin City is down to number
four and making her not-so-subtle bid to change her image is Alexis Biedel
from The Gilmore Girls, playing a traitorous hooker. But settling into
what will be the rest of her life is Devin Aoki as a martial arts killer.
Yeah, next it’s gonna be geishas
and arrogant medical students, honey. Get used to it. And you know somewhere
Kelly Hu is screaming at her agent about not getting this role.
AH, THE 90’S. SUCH AN INNOCENT
TIME…
Guess Who is down to number
five, followed by Beauty Shop at number six and also in this is Bryce Wilson.
Don’t know who he is? Remember the group Groove Theory, with their great, great single “Tell Me” which is one of my most favorite singles of all time? Well, he was the guy half (though it was uber-sissy, Trey Larenz singing on the cut). It was a good album, but they had a falling out and he replaced her. He tried again under the same name and it just died. The girl half was Native New Yorker Amel Larrieux, who has released two solo albums as well as singing with Sweetback and The Roots. Her own stuff is not very memorable, but if you need booty music and have used your Sade so much, you keep having orgasms on the same tracks no matter who you’re with, you might want to try it out. But you’ll also have to endure her occasional “tragic mulatto” themes and touchy feely persona (on her website she writes she almost cried when a fan dreamt of her as a tree). They’re having a minor reunion in Santa Monica on the 21st if you’re in the area. Shit. I just realized “Tell Me” came out ten years ago this year. At the time I was a young man still optimistic about the future. Now, I’m
just middle-aged guy trying not to weep daily about lost youth. I need a
drink now and the rest of this top ten is in jeopardy. Be grateful I never
write it in order.
ETC.
Robots is down to number seven, followed by Miss Congeniality 2 at number eight and The Pacifier at number nine.
THE UPSIDE OF THE UPSIDE THE DOWNSIDE OF THE UPSIDE
The Upside of Anger holds at
number ten and at $15M has now earned back its production costs of $12M.
Considering they did jack shit in terms of marketing, this might make a
little money before it’s all said and done. I can tell you right now I’m gonna have a copy when it comes on DVD. Of course this also frees Mike Binder to continue with his misogynistic ways. His next project is with Ben Affleck whose wife---say it with me, kids---cheats on him. Yeah, that’s right, Mike. They’re
all a bunch of bitches. Someone kill this man before he writes and directs
again.
SADLY, NO ONE ACTUALLY DOES “THE
HUSTLE”
Not breaking the top ten despite
opening wide this week is Kung Fu Hustle, the latest from writer/director/actor
Stephen Chow, who made Shaolin Soccer, the biggest hit in Hong Kong history.
He’s primarily a comic actor so this is par the course with him, but this
time he’s teamed up with Yuen Wo Ping, the choreographer behind Crouching
Tiger, Hidden Dragon and The Matrix, so even when they’re joking around,
you’re still getting some serious ass-kicking going on. But not too serious,
especially when one master’s technique is her ability to scream her head
off and the generous use of CGI takes it over the top. The “hustle” in
question is when Stephen Chow and his buddy pretend to be members of the
Ax Gang to try and shake down the inhabitants of a small slum. When they
kick his ass, the real Ax Gang shows up---and then they promptly get their
asses kicked. Because this is a Hong Kong film, no matter what, it’s going
to get melodramatic at some point. They can’t help it. Asking them to
give it up is like is like asking a European film to be brief. So, don’t
be surprised when the movie suddenly goes super maudlin with talk of love
and honor. But thankfully, he always follows that up with joke, occasionally
as crude as possible. Even in the midst of the film’s
super saccharine happy endings there are naked asses and snot.
ONE STEP CLOSER TO AN X-FILES
SEQUEL…FOR BETTER
OR WORSE
House of D also opens and do
you need more warning than this: Robin Williams is a retarded janitor and
Erykah Badu is a hooker with a house of gold, and both are helping a teenage
boy grow up in New York City in the early 70’s. If that isn’t an indication
of some bad, bad acting and some horrendous writing, I don’t know what
is. But actors live to try shit like this because handicapped and whore
equals “Oscar”. Besides, we’ve long since passed the point where the mere
presence of Robin Williams means “bad” (he got lucky with Robots). Apparently,
he’s here to guarantee his daughter a role as the teenage love interest.
And why cast Erykah Badu in any goddamn thing? This was written and directed
by David Duchovny (who also appears) who was a teenager in New York in
the 70’s. There’s another warning this will blow, because he has demonstrated
a vast ignorance as to what makes a good movie script based on his film
choices. It pretty much lets you know he’s not going to suddenly develop
taste looking at his own work. When Meryl Streep turned him down, he should
have realized something was wrong. He replaced her with his wife, Tea “This
Is What I Married You For” Leoni, who as far as I’m concerned peaked with
the Flying Blind TV show and it’s
been a slow decline ever since.
DAWN LIVES!
Palindromes doesn’t break the top ten and even though I’ve seen all of Todd Solondz’s other films, I won’t see this. No, not because it’s
about a 13-year-old who wants to get pregnant, gets pregnant, is forced into
an abortion by her mother and is played by six different actresses, black
and white, young and old and even one guy. No, the reason I will never see
this is because the character is the cousin of Dawn Weiner from Welcome To
The Dollhouse and the movie begins at her funeral. FUCK YOU! I love Dawn
and will see no film where she dies! This is the biggest fuck up in a movie
since they killed off Newt and Hicks at the beginning of Alien 3 (by they
way, go online and read the alternate script by David Twohy where Alien 3
was actually about Hicks and Bishop fighting the Aliens while Newt gets sent
back to earth to live with her grandparents and Ripley remains in a coma
for the whole film and is cast into space by Hicks when he thinks the Aliens
are going to consume the whole base).
I’M A DIRTY OLD MAN WITH A
DIRTY OLD MIND
They finally made Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” into
a video and I am a happy man. Filled with grown women dressed up as skanky
cheerleaders and Gwen herself in both a cheerleader outfit and some red satin
number with her little butt-cheeks hanging out (which are shown in slow motion),
this is nothing less than three-and-a-half minutes of erotic delight for
me. In fact, get this now-useless porn out of my house!
NOW DEATH IS GOING FOR THE SMART PEOPLE
Saul Bellow died, the creator of Brenda Starr died, the writer of the Bewitched theme died and Andrea Dworkin, who was entertaining in her Don Quixote like quest to stop porn, also died. It must have hurt to watch it just grow and become more publicly acceptable every year to the point where having a sex tape could actually help your career.
PERSPECTIVE
Next time you think fate is
fucking with you or something in a movie seems too unbelievable, think
of the New Jersey cop who answered a call about a shooting to find his
own son the victim, dead in the street. Not enough? The EMS worker who
also answered the call was his ex-wife and formerly the boy’s stepmother.
Try bitching about how hard your life is now.
“SAVE THE NARRATIVE YOU SAVIN’ IT FOR MARRIAGE/LET’S KEEP IT REAL YOU SAVIN’ IT
FOR CABBAGE”
Kevin Federline is my hero.
I’m sorry, but he is. The man is utterly fucking shameless. He’s not pretending to be anything other than what he is: a kept man. And he didn’t hesitate to knock her up first thing to seal his non-working status for the rest of his life. A lesser man might have waited at least a year to make it look good. Not the God of All Golddiggers Everywhere. That woman in Brazil who had Mick Jagger’s baby a few years ago now calls this man “Yoda.” He has raised the bar to a place few others will ever reach. There was at time money took you out of the trailer park. Now it allows you to build a $10M trailer park in Beverly Hills. Pretty soon there’ll
be an engine block in the front yard.
HEY, HITLER LIKED DOGS TOO
So, I’m currently housesitting down on Wall Street for Movie Buddy ’98. Of course, because it’s my life, this couldn’t happen when I was working down here. No, it happens when I’m working at place in midtown I can walk to. Nevertheless, it’s always welcome to see what it would be like to live life as a grown up, had I not pissed away my youth and actually acquired something like an actual career. Not to mention, I’ve got Tribeca Film Festival tickets and it’s just a few blocks away. It’s a nice place, a former corporate headquarters turned into living spaces, with a gym and roof deck, but nice stone, not one of those steel and glass monstrosities. But the neighborhood is pretty much what you’d expect for Wall Street, i.e., “non-existent.” You’d better buy what you need before you come down or find what little the neighborhood has before nightfall, because then it becomes like one of those small towns in movies that has a monster. Everything shuts down and everyone disappears. Hell, I couldn’t even find a paper on Saturday night. That aside, it’s very nice, or would be if I didn’t have to take care of the dog. I know what you’re thinking, “How could a dog be that much trouble?” Normally, it wouldn’t, but this is a very old dog (14 years) so it’s more like I’m taking care of a crazy old woman. The dog is deaf, partially senile and apparently has some mild disease, which makes getting her outside before she relieves herself an almost impossible challenge. I’ve only done it successfully once so far. All the other times, she’s crapped on the kitchen floor while refusing to go out, she’s pissed in front of the elevator and she’s pissed in the lobby a few times. And there’s no sense in punishing her or getting angry. She’s fucking senile! She probably wouldn’t know why you were punishing any more than she remembers what she did wrong. So, I’m torn between wanting the dog dead and terrified that she will actually die on me. See, because she’s so old, she doesn’t pop up every time you move the way a normal dog would. In fact, she sleeps so long and so still, I find myself checking to see if she’s still alive by looking for breathing signs. Yes, I do feel guilty for resenting the dog. Long ago, she was probably a fun thing, full of life and if she were mine, I’d probably be crying every night seeing her like this---but I didn’t so I don’t. For better or worse, I never had to watch my dogs grow older because my mom had a habit of “accidentally” losing my dogs whenever I left to go to New York (I’m sure Freud would have a lot to say about that). If my mom were taking care of this dog, they’d return next Saturday to find themselves six days late for its funeral. My mom is the ultimate mom, but we all have our dark sides and tolerance for smelly pets is hers. Suddenly, the woman goes from June Cleaver to Ming the Merciless. I’m trying to channel June because it is somewhat endearing the way the crazy old dog will follow you wherever you from room to room because she doesn’t want to be alone (even if she won’t let you touch her either), but we’ll test that compassion in a few hours when it’s time to go out again and whether or not I have use wee-wee pads in the hallway…and the kitchen…and the bedroom…and… Okay, so we’ve done it twice. Maybe I don’t
hate her. Moody old bitch.
THESE ARE MY CONFESSIONS…
I don’t watch Desperate Housewives, but I’ve now taken to watching the 11:00 showing of The L Word so I can watch Grey’s Anatomy at 10:00. Yes, I admit it. I like the show and its fantasy hospital of attractive residents and staff run by Black people in, of all places, Seattle (shit, that’s
almost science fiction). We shall not speak of this again.
4/11/05 “Those who speak against the great do not speak from morality, but from envy.” ---
Walter Savage Landor
TEA IN THE SAHARA
Sahara opens at number one
and you know you’re in for a shameless audience pleaser when your hero’s first appearance is tanned, buffed and wet. Talk about targeting your audience. It’s not the greatest film in the world and god knows the editors should be fired, because more than once we see a half-second of a our heroes committing an action from one angle, only to have another angle show they haven’t even moved yet! But technical aspects aside, they’ve done a decent job of making Indiana Jones 4. Call it “Indiana Jones and His Love of 70’s Rock” as the soundtrack is filled with songs that obviously reflect on the film’s star, Matthew McConaughey (Lynyrd Skynyrd, Marshall Tucker Band, The Faces, Little Feat, etc). This is based on Clive Cussler’s 10th novel of his hero, Dirk Pitt (and the only name more manly than that is “Rod Lance” or “Richard Majestic”) whose books are pretty much bought by men in airports. Like Indiana Jones, Dirk Pitt is a treasure hunter working for the National Underwater Marine Agency (which seems redundant, because if you’re “underwater” of course you’re dealing with the sea). And unlike Indiana Jones he just so happens to be a former Navy SEAL, so when things get hot, you know he’s going to kick ass and take names. Steve Zahn is his best friend and sidekick and yes, you have to accept that he also somehow made it through the training it takes to be a Navy SEAL. Reality is obviously in short supply here, but that’s exactly why you’re going. Because you can’t have a film like this without a girl, there’s Gonzo The Great’s daughter, Penelope Cruz, and she meets McConaughey in “hero meets girl fashion” when he saves her from the bad guys when she discovers a strange sickness in Africa somehow connected to their evil doings. Yes, more suspension of disbelief is needed to believe that Penelope Cruz is a doctor in the World Health Organization, but this is that kind of movie. The type of movie where, everyone in Africa not only speaks English, but they even speak it to one another. Where bullets never hit the good guys, but good guys have perfect aim. Where people walk away from explosions and falls that should either kill or cripple them with barely a scratch. It’s also got a very “Bond” aspect to it, aided pretty deliberately by some Bond-like music and a super-scientific bad guy hideout in the middle of the desert. And yes, all this does tie in to McConaughey’s hunt for a lost treasure. It wouldn’t have killed this film to try to have a little more of a brain, but apparently that’s something its inherited from the books themselves. I guess I should be glad the movie left out the novel’s
Abraham Lincoln subplot and secret gold mine. In comparison to all that,
it suddenly seems a lot smarter.
JUST SO LONG AS CARRIE OTIS
DOESN’T
COME BACK WITH HIM
Sin City is down to number
two and this may herald the start of a Mickey Rourke comeback. His story
is the strongest and the most entertaining and he does a good job of bringing
some actually humanity to what is otherwise a very bleak movie with guys
either too tough (Bruce Willis, Clive Owen) or too depraved (pretty much
every other male credited). Apparently his casting was destiny. Marv is
supposedly based on Rourke (as opposed to Tom Cruise and Keanu Reeves being
cast as characters based on Rutger Hauer and Sting). Rourke even took the
graphic novel to his therapist bemoaning being seen that way. Bet you he
didn’t complain when
he got the check.
AND SHOULDN’T THIS BE CALLED “PITCH
FEVER?”
Fever Pitch opens at number
one and let this be a lesson to you: baseball first, romance second, whereas
this movie obviously had them reversed and paid the price. Even the great
Bull Durham made damn sure of the order: sex, baseball, romance. Not to
mention, the last place you want to set a romantic comedy or baseball movie
is fucking Boston. I hate baseball, but I hate Boston even more, so seeing
a Boston baseball move would be hell on earth for me. They have the second-ugliest
accent in the world, surpassed only but the flat Midwestern honk and setting
a baseball movie in fucking Chicago would have been equally futile. Nope.
This only works in New York. And did Drew Barrymore really think she was
the important ingredient in those movies with Adam Sandler? Newsflash: he
makes money without you and you haven’t made money on your own since Ever After in 1998. This is also the latest in a stream of failures from the Farrelly Brothers, who have seeming abandoned their scatological and just plain weird humor to no avail. They have also not had a hit since 1998 with There’s Something About Mary. Jimmy Fallon is continuing his slow slide in obscurity, apparently he learning nothing from Tina Fey, who had a hit with Mean Girls, but KEPT HER DAY JOB! Who thought Jimmy Fallon was a lead anyway? At best he comic relief or second banana for a real lead. He should be the goofy-ass best friend in this movie, not “The
Guy.”
BROWN VS. LIGHT BROWN
Guess Who drops to number four
and the battle continues amongst young women of color as to who will succeed
Halle Berry as for all the younger Black female roles. There’s Kerry Washington (Ray, Save The Last Dance and coming up as Alicia Masters in The Fantastic Four), Joy Bryant (Antwone Fisher, Honey and recently on e.r.) and Zoe Saldana , who’s cheating because she’s actually Dominican, but would obviously get smoked standing next to either Eva Mendes or Eva Longoria, so she jumped over into the shallow end of the pool, where she’s leading with Crossroads, Drumlime, Pirates of the Caribbean and now this. Personally, if I were a young Black actress (which I haven’t been for years), I’d be uber pissed and mounting a not-so-secret campaign to get this bitch bounced from playing sistas. Bad enough you gotta compete with rappers, but now you’re losing roles to people who aren’t even Black!?! But you can’t
blame her too much. Not when Italians have been playing Spanish roles for
years. I think the rock bottom moment was when Amy Irving played a Puerto
Rican.
ANGRYGEEK THE CRACKER SLAYER
Beauty Shop is down to number
five, followed by Robots at number six and Miss Congeniality at number
seven and we must pity poor Regina King. Cheated out of an Oscar nod for
Ray, this disappointing return pretty much insures she’ll go back to playing the non-sexual wife of Black leading men (Will Smith in Enemy of the State, Eddie Murphy in Daddy Day Care, Cuba Gooding Jr. in Jerry Maguire). She can’t complain too much. Anne Archer has surely paid for her house and put her kids through college with those types of roles. What she needs to do is to get a nice Eve-like sitcom while she’s still got some heat, as it seems damn near anything will survive on the UPN. I think I could have a show there. It would be my adventures as an angrygeek in high school, scoring both a young and minority audience. And oh yes, there would be vampires, because me and my friends fought them all the time. Okay, I’m
lying about that last part. I had no friends. I fought the forces of darkness
alone. And they were just rednecks.
PRIDE GOETH BEFORE THE FALL, MY SON
The Pacifier is down to number
eight and having broken $100M Vin Diesel must sure be entertaining delusions
of being a big star again. During his two-day tenure as “King of Fuck Mountain” he
demonstrated a notorious lack of humility. He may want to give Mickey Rourke
a call before planning his next move or ever opening his fucking mouth.
BLONDE AMBITION PART 2085
The Ring 2 is down to number
nine and because of this disappointing return, Naomi Watts now needs King
Kong to be a huge hit like she needs air (she’s in the Fay Wray role). Otherwise she’ll continue to be a bridesmaid and never a bride. Despite a laughable performance in horrible movie, the last version of King Kong launched Jessica Lange’s
career. Six years after that movie, she was a double Oscar-nominee.
BUT THE ADORATION OF EVERY
MAN ALIVE ISN’T ENOUGH!
I WANT RESPECT!
Finally, The Upside of Anger
closes out the top ten at number ten and Keri Russell is making her bid
for “serious actress” consideration after being one of the prettiest things on two legs for the last ten years. She was also recently appearing off-Broadway in a Neil Labute play. This means she may one day be like Michelle Pfeiffer and Angelina Jolie, another painfully beautiful actress playing roles that are undone because of said beauty. She’ll earn the role of the lead scientist or the tough F.B.I. Agent, but there’s no way in hell someone who looks like that is going to be the lead scientist (do we remember Nicole Kidman in The Peacemaker as a nuclear physicist?) or the tough F.B.I. Agent (do we remember Angelina Jolie in Taking Lives?). So one day, you’ll
see Keri Russell as a tough homicide detective in Detroit. Hey, if Ethan
Hawke can do it…
WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK, YOU’RE STRANGELY
ALWAYS IN KEY
So, after two decades of ducking
it, I was finally snared in the net of karaoke. Star Trek Woman snared
me with a promise of half-price drinks until 7:00. This played into a jonesing
for sake I’d been having since Star Trek Woman and Former Miss Pretty Boy and I had destroyed four dozen oysters together two weeks earlier (and were still hungry for more), which occurred a week after Former Miss Pretty Boy tricked me into having vegetarian Indian food. The fact that it was good is completely beside the point. Had I known there was no meat involved, I would not have gone! In any case, I agreed only to sing after she sang, but midway through my second sake, I found myself faced with a microphone, as in a terrifying display on intuition, Star Trek Woman had picked the only song I’d even considered trying: “Is This Love” by Whitesnake, which thankfully required no real singing talent. When it came her turn on a song I’d picked, Star Trek Woman displayed a tendency she’d be repeat throughout the night: starting a song, then stopping in the middle to go off and talk to someone. This is how I wound up singing “Only The Lonely” with Q, a bass player from Texas who so appreciated my middle-aged taste in music, he bought a round of sake. Three sakes and some beer in, I found myself agreeing to see his band play in Williamsburg. Yeah, I’d have to be drunk for that to happen. As the night went on, more and more of Star Trek Woman’s crew arrived, making me once again, a minority within a minority. As I’d told STW before, I dislike being a non-Asian guy in an Asian crowd because that just screams “ricebuster.” Luckily this time I wasn’t the only one, as there were two White guys in the group who were, of course, dating two of the women. I’d met almost everyone before, but this time, thanks to the booze and bad singing, it became a little more in depth. My favorite had to be The Notorious K.I.M., a Korean guy whom I so dubbed because he started the night out relatively quiet, unwilling to sing, but as it progressed became more and more hip-hop. At one point a group of bruthas and sistas started singing Bobby Brown’s “Every Little Step I Take” and he left us to join them. I half expected a note demanding my return in exchange for releasing him. I was also entertained by seeing The Playette in action. She’s a moderately attractive girl and she knows it, but no matter how close the guy with her got, you could tell she was still keeping him at a distance and would leave his grasp at anytime, without reason. What makes her The Playette is that I know he wasn’t the only one to think he was “in” and wind up disappointed and the other guy just may have been there too. What was sadly entertaining was the guy in the bar who came alone to sing. I’m sorry, but that’s just sad. Why are you doing that? He soon left alone too. I actually was supposed to meet up with Joan Jett (the girl with great rock & roll haircut and nice body, who thinks her hair sucks and that she needs to lose ten pounds) at another bar that night too, and I swore I wouldn’t stay at karaoke too long because I sure as hell wasn’t going to be singing. Well, sake, beer, at least ten songs and six hours later, I was making my exit---but not before joining the deep voiced Ted (who’d I made sing Barry White earlier in the night) on a duet of “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down on Me” in the style of George Michael and Elton John. I then caught a cab to try and catch Joan Jett, who hadn’t returned any of my phone calls all night. Normally, that would have been my clue to go home, but she’s a cheap date, so she may have been too blitzed to do so. I couldn’t find her at the 34th Street Mercury Bar even though she insists she was there. So instead I took my moderately buzzed self home to make a potentially dangerous mistake: I ate a microwave cheeseburger from the deli. It’s a miracle I’m not still throwing up. It would have been disastrous, because I would have then been in no shape the next night for meat-rich Indian food with Around The Way Girl, followed by rich desserts at Café Mozart.
THE GREATEST STORY EVER TOLD
Okay, if you don’t watch Robot Chicken you must start, because you have missed the greatest thing ever. A Charlie Brown segment where Linus summons The Great Pumpkin in a black magic ceremony---only to have it kill him and then proceed to kill off the Peanuts gang. In addition to this, Charlie Brown kicks Lucy’s ass for pulling the football away from him, Peppermint Patty and Marcie come out and Charlie Brown as the last survivor, tricks The Great Pumpkin into following him to The Kite-Eating Tree, which devours it. The last shot is of the whole gang doing that Peanuts dance…only this time they’re all in hell. It doesn’t
get any better than that.
GODDAMN IT, THEY’RE STILL GOOD
LOOKING AT 40
ABC is working overtime for
women, because in addition to Desperate Housewives, it’s slowly turning into the middle-aged pretty boy network with Jake In Progress and now Eyes, with Tim Daly as an upscale private detective. It’s a fun show and somewhat smart, which of course means it’s doomed, so I’d
better enjoy it while I can.
CORRECTION!
It was Neil Young, not Neil
Diamond who almost died. Actually, I could give a shit. I think Neil Young
is as overrated as hell. The only crime would be Crosby, Stills & Nash
outliving him.
4/4/05 “The good thing about masturbation is that you don’t
have to dress up for it.” ---
Truman Capote
WAIT, THIS MOVIE ISN’T ABOUT
VEGAS
Sin City opens at number on
and this is based on a comic book series by geek icon, Frank Miller. What
it is basically, is him telling hard-boiled crimes stories freely, rather
than using a superhero to do it. It also allows him to be totally nihilistic
in a way that simply wouldn’t fly in superhero comics. I only read the first series, but it was enough for me. Yeah, it looks good, but that was about it and because the movie is one to the most literal adaptations of one medium to another, my feelings are the same. Yeah, it looks good, but someone needs to tell Robert Rodriquez---who resigned from the director’s guild so he could give Frank Miller directing credit---that what works on paper doesn’t necessarily work onscreen. Hell, Shakespeare gets altered from stage to screen, so don’t tell me some asshole ripping off old pulp crime novels doesn’t need it. And he needs it. Oh, boy does he need it. The dialogue is left more-or-less intact and it is as lame as it gets. Or to put it in the style of the comic, “It fell from their lips like so much spent lead.” The movie uses three Sin City stories and rather than weave them altogether, you start with one, go to another, then to another and then back to the original, with the occasional appearance of characters from one into the others, most notably, Jessica Alba as a child kidnap victim in the Bruce Willis story (“That Yellow Bastard”), who grows into the world’s nicest non-stripping stripper in the Mickey Rourke story (the original “Sin City”and the best segment in the movie). Rosario Dawson appears as the same bloodthirsty hooker in Mickey Rourke story and the Clive Owen story (“The Big Fat Kill”), which was “guest-directed” by Quentin Tarantino. With a little less reverence and a good screenwriter, this could have been a good movie. A good idea would have been to tie all the stories in together and happening at the same time, but *gasp!* that would mean altering the words of a comic book god. Blasphemy! This has opened big (actually making as much in its first weekend as Bruce Willis’s Hostage has made in four), but will drop like a rock because of the brutal violence and sordid nature of the stories (Bruce Willis goes to rescue Jessica Alba from being raped and murdered at the same location where Mickey Rourke fights Elijah Wood, who uses hookers for food and makes them watch while he eats their body parts). Not to mention, two out of the three “heroes” don’t live to see the final frame and die publicly disgraced in order to save their families. And did I mention Jessica Alba doesn’t get naked? Not something your average mall-goer wants to see, much less recommend to friends. But film and comic book geeks will praise this to their dying days, no doubt worshipping alongside Blade Runner, another film that eschewed story for style. Robert Rodriquez is one of those film geeks and it makes sense that he compares himself to George Lucas because he also desperately needs someone to stand behind him and say, “No, no, no, no, no! It may look good, but it simply doesn’t work!” And like Lucas, he will never allow it. Damn geeks. I hate them all. Yes, technically I am one and their king, but I still hate them all. I’d
fiddle if my kingdom were to burn.
AND DON’T FORGET FRIES AND MAYBE YOU’LL
GROW A SHAKE
Beauty Shop opens at number
two and this is an offshoot from Barbershop and was planned alongside Barbershop
2. This Queen Latifah’s presence in that film was nothing but a commercial for this one, so you guess how much sheer heart and soul went into this production. That’s sarcasm, people. Basically, someone said, “Hey, a bunch of Black guys talking in a barbershop made us $100M! Let’s do it with some women and make more loot!” And like most rip-offs, they missed the most crucial element to the success of Barbershop, which was the taboo-breaking humor that brought it national attention, a.k.a., millions of dollars of free advertising. Also, it also seemed to have actual characters, even if they were two-dimensional ones, going so far as to even point it out on the poster. I keep saying “seemed” because I never saw either Barbershop and never will. I’ll never see this either and while there was more temptation because they did set it in my hometown of Atlanta, they’d have to shoot it in front of my fucking house and give my mom a speaking role (a real role, not a cameo) to get me into this. Latifah has come a ways since she was dying in every movie I saw with her (Sphere, The Bone Collector), but maybe this will let her know the “sassy, Black woman” thing as a lead character is simply not working for her. Her biggest success was Chicago, which should also be a clue as to the type of quality to look for. Otherwise, it’s back to TV, or has everyone forgotten the years of Living Single on Fox back when The Simpsons, Beverly Hill 90210 and Martin carried it? And let’s not get into the actors slumming here, trying for a little street cred. Kevin Bacon? Andie McDowell? Mena Suvari? Alicia Silverstone? Granted, it was also a matter of a paycheck as well, as none of these people have been in a major hit for years. It’s one thing for Kevin Bacon, who seems more indie these days, but Alicia Silverstone is totally mainstream and both she and her accountant are apparently feeling the gap since Clueless (honey, here’s a thought: eat a cheeseburger and get your tits back, ‘cause this veggie thing is simply not working). You gotta feel for her, though. She’s one of those people whose attractiveness peaked in her teen years and it’s been a slow, downward spiral since then. Remember: she was the woman-child of choice between Winona Ryder and Britney Spears. And it’s gotta hurt watching your former co-star, Britney Murphy, outstrip your success. After all, she’s in the number one movie this week alongside A-list talent while you’re
in this.
NOW I’LL BE LOOKING FOR IT ON THAT 70’S
SHOW
Guess Who is down to number
three and apparently, the studio spent a chunk of change digitally erasing
Ashton Kutcher’s Kaballah string from around his wrist. Such is the power of the pussy of Demi Moore that he would feel the need to do that. What the fuck is wrong with these people? You’d never see someone Jewish refusing to take off his yarmulke for a role or a Catholic refusing to take off his crucifix if he wasn’t playing someone who would wear it. Sorry, but I would have fired his ass instantly and given Paul “Pretty Boy” Walker a call or the guy playing Clark Kent on Smallville. I mean, it’s
not like the movie would have changed that much. Or at all. Any pretty boy
would have done.
HE’S MY CELEB SIGHTING FINAL
FRONTIER
Robots holds at number four,
followed by Miss Congeniality 2 at number five and we gotta love that William
Shatner has carved out such a great second act to his life. He could have
bitched and moaned about being stuck as Captain Kirk, but instead he embraced
the absurdity of it all and is laughing all the way to the bank. But I’m a little pissed that two of my friends (Bad Influence and Former Miss Pretty Boy) got to see him and all I’ve seen are Chad Lowe and Rachel Dratch. Captain Kirk vs. Half a Rob Lowe Sperm and the Least Attractive Member of Saturday Night Live, male or female. It’s not fair. It’s
just not fair.
AND I’LL BE HUNG LIKE A CLYDESDALE!
The Pacifier is down to number
six, followed by The Ring 2 at number seven and The Upside of Anger enters
the top ten at number eight and in this writer/director Mike Binder gives
himself the role Kevin Costner’s buddy who sleeps with Joan Allen’s daughter and while Joan Allen wonderfully bitch slaps him to the ground and has a fantasy sequence where his head explodes, it’s just a an attempt to deflect criticism as to what a repulsive pig he really is. It’s like the rude, obnoxious guy who jokes that he’s rude and obnoxious. What they’re doing is given themselves absolution to continue being rude and obnoxious by exhibiting awareness of it because it suggests an inclination to change. And Binder is giving himself absolution to being an ugly little man who casts himself with attractive women. This is why in my film I’ll be an angry, flabby, compulsively masturbating geek…who also gets women who wouldn’t talk to him in real life. I think I’ll be teaching Comparative Literature at a small woman’s college and having an affair with the main character’s
slutty best friend.
THE END
Hitch is down to number nine followed by Ice Princess, which closes out the top ten at number ten.
THEN AGAIN, RIGHT WING CHRISTIAN FREAKS ARE HARDLY ENTERTAINING
Death continues to take all
those even remotely entertainment related which is why Johnnie Cochran
had to go. I know some think of this as God is finally dealing out some
justice, but the truth be told, Cochran actually did more good than harm.
Celeb clients paid the bills for more worthwhile clients. Not to mention
O.J. is the picture of fucking health. And Frank Perdue was entertaining
in his commercials. But how the fuck you could take the pope and not Jerry
Fallwell? That’s just not right. Granted, there was a helluva lot wrong with the pope, but that’s just the Catholic Church in general, while Fallwell himself is pure fucking evil. How can Death tease us like that? Is hell full? And Neil Diamond had a non-fatal brain aneurysm. We almost lost the Tambourine Man too. But my favorite Neil Diamond songs are actually “Desiree” and “Forever
In Blue Jeans.”
THEY SAY IT’S FOR MY OWN GOOD, BUT I DON’T
KNOW…
So, Nice Jewish Doctor was
in town last week. We met twice for dinner. She was staying at the uber-hip
Hudson Hotel on 58th Street. It was a small room, but still very nice.
She didn’t like it, but I could see it for what it was: an affair room. It was the type of relatively inexpensive room you get to meet the person you’re sleeping with outside your marriage. For the first time an affair actually seemed attractive to me, if only for the room. So if anyone wants to pay, I’ll gladly walk over and meet you there. But I get room service. We also had dinner with her and a few of her colleagues, not to mention another friend I hadn’t seen in years, Yet Former Wild Child (as opposed to Former Wild Child, and Another Former Wild Child). Like all the wild girls I knew in my 20’s she’s married and someone’s mom now (she has a beautiful little boy, who is an argument that a Puerto Rican/Dutch hookup should be made a law). She’s only in Brooklyn, but I literally haven’t seen her in about two years and don’t think I’m not on a shit list for it. In any case, we’d planned on drinks at the hotel’s trés chic bar, but it was too loud and they wanted to eat as well, so we went to Rosa Mexicano nearby. Working as hostess was a beautiful girl who apparently had the most amazing haircut, because Another Retired Wild Child wanted me to ask her where she got it. I was only too happy to do so, but declined to even attempt to put my mack down (humor me and accept that I have some sort of game), because I cannot speak to women without a job. I just can’t. I cannot be “That Guy” and we all know who “That Guy” is, because we’ve all had friends who’ve shown up with a guy with no job and we know exactly what we thought of him. I mean, I’m not even in a band. But there was an interesting aspect to my admiration of the lovely hostess with the great haircut. Nice Jewish Doctor “vetoed” her as not being good enough without a second thought. I then realized the other major impediment in my social life beyond my own laziness: my female friends. Now, when you have male friends, they’re just happy you’re get anybody, but women, especially the women in my life, tend to be a bit more discriminating. Any woman who shows up my arm will have to run “The Gauntlet” which consists of, not just Nice Jewish Doctor, but Surrogate Sister (who has never been shy about telling the women I like are “fat” “stupid” “slutty” “crazy” “ugly Eurotrash” “stupid, slutty, crazy and got a thing on her face”), Former Wild Child (equally vicious and even more snobbish), Another Former Wild Child (not so vicious, but snobbish), Former Miss Pretty Boy (who should be nice, unless the girl in question is Asian, then the claws will come out) and my Sister In Law(who’ll appear to be the picture of genteel southern womanhood, but that’s only honey on a razor blade and I don’t think I’ll ever be forgive for not marrying Nice Jewish Doctor). And this is before we get to my biological family, who shares my lack of tact and has a tendency towards violence (I believe it’s the fear of my fiancée being beaten down by my sisters like a scene from Goodfellas that keeps me single). I realize this comes from love (it’s what I tell myself anyway), but it’s still pretty scary. This is why I keep my rare entanglements a secret. Or I just imagine them all. Either way, it’s
the safest route.