11/28/05 GOOD SEX SHOULDN’T BE LITERALLY
DIRTY
Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire holds at number one with Walk The Line holding at number two and playing Waylon Jennings was his son, Skeeter. Skeeter also did the Dukes of Hazzard theme song earlier this year for the movie. Gee, Skeeter, getting your own life anytime soon? But I hate on Skeeter because he’s sleeping with Drea DeMatteo and they are one skanky couple. Their first date, neither had bathed for days, even weeks. Drea also doesn’t believe in washing her jeans, which is fairly common for designer duds, but she also doesn’t wear underwear in them. Ewwwwwwww. I still want her, but she’s
going to have to scrubbed by a hazmat team first.
NEXT: DENNIS QUAID IN “DIFFERENT
STROKES THE MOVIE”
Yours, Mine & Ours opens at number three and what hath Cheaper By The Dozen wrought? Both are about unnaturally large families based on real life and both are remakes of films that weren’t that great the first time despite having pedigree stars (Henry Fonda, Lucille Ball, Myna Loy, Jeanne Crain). But they were successful and since Cheaper By The Dozen was successful enough to warrant a sequel, the producers of this obviously said, “Hey, what’s that other big family movie that inspired The Brady Bunch? Let’s remake that with a couple of actors desperate for a hit.” And so Rene Russo and Dennis Quaid (who’s been here before, remaking The Parent Trap with Lindsay Lohan) answered the call. Russo had her moment as the Middle Aged Leading Man’s Love Interest, peaking with The Thomas Crown Affair. She’s realized this and is currently making the sequel to try and save herself from herself. After all, no one forced her to make that movie about monkeys. And Quaid---who never fulfilled his 80’s---promise
has sacrificed his comeback cred for the dollars, determined just to keep
working no matter what.
MAKES ONE LONG FOR THE HAPPINESS
OF…CABARET
Chicken Little is down to number
four, followed by Rent, opening at number five and reminding us all why
we don’t like musicals (especially non-comedic ones), either on film or
onstage. There’s nothing dumber or more awkward than dialogue being sung.
Using a song to express a feeling, sure. Fine. We get it. But when people
are singing, “Hello, how are you? Where’s the milk?” “I didn’t get
it. Shall I go back to the stooooooore?” That’s when it gets stupid
and it gets stupid here more than once (in the show it was all singing).
Also, there’s the weird transition from the fantasy of singing and dancing
with strangers, back to reality, when we have to climb off the taxis and
bar-tops and stop dancing with the homeless guy and the bartender. Having
people on the street or in the bar applaud the recent musical number they
just witnessed does not help. Chicago wisely realized the modern musical
couldn’t
take place in the “real world.” It had to be a fantasy going on in the
mind of the singer. But Chicago had the advantage of a director with a
background IN
ACTUAL FUCKING THEATER! For some godforsaken reason, the people behind
Rent chose Chris Columbus, the man who brought us Home Alone, Mrs. Doubtfire
and Stepmom. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Chris Columbus
is on a mission to drive wit, verve and imagination out of American film
and with Rent he gets one step closer to his goal. Never having seen the
Broadway show (told you I was straight), I can only judge it as a film
and you’re in trouble when your opening number dwarfs all that follow,
mainly because it’s taken directly from the musical and depicted as happening
on a freaking stage (also “Seasons of Love” is a great, great, evocative
song that can make you weep without knowing a thing about the show). People
who saw the original have criticized using the original cast because they’re
too old, but it works in a weird way, because part of the story is about
making choices and your thirties is usually when people start doing that,
letting go of old dreams for new realities, which at least two of the characters
experience. But don’t think the film conveys this. I had to do that on
my own, because it never occurred to them to retool it to account for ages.
Loosely based on La Boheme (which the musical fully acknowledges by using
music from La Boheme at various spots throughout), Rent is the story of
a group of mostly gay, mostly HIV positive friends living in the East Village
at the end of the 80’s. In fact, there are only two straight, non-infected
people in the musical (this is what Team America: World Police was mocking)
and one is our defacto bad guy, their former friend-turned-yuppie sell-out,
played by Taye Diggs (shut up! You know he’s pretty!). The “plot” is essentially
their attempt to stay while he redevelops the neighborhood. Well, we know
who won, don’t we? Other than that, it’s “character-driven” examining
the relationships of all the characters with one another (ironically, the
straight, non-HIV positive character is the only one who doesn’t get a
partner), which also doesn’t work for a musical. Because there is some
semblance of a plot, it’s annoying when it all but stops so we can follow
our lesbian couple to their commitment ceremony---where they break up during
the reception. Ironically, that’s actually were one of the few good music
numbers occurs. Even the way it’s staged is so superior to the others it’s
like out of a different movie. It stars Mrs. Taye Diggs, Idina Menzel (not
as pretty as he is, but who could be) and she gives a starmaking performance,
mainly because she’s fortunate enough to be playing the only character
who seems to be enjoying her life, exposing the problem with this movie
is the problem and with the show itself: it’s a downer. Don’t be fooled
by that upbeat-looking trailer (one of the loving couples depicted is actually
a pair of heroin addicts, one of whom dies of AIDs before the story begins).
You’ve
got eight characters. Four have HIV, two get married then break up instantly,
one suffers unrequited love and selling out his dream and Taye Diggs is the
bad guy. How can you enjoy this? By the end, one is in the grave and the
closest thing to triumph is simply not dying. Woo-hoo. Give me more of that.
VAN WILDER 2 MAY BE COMING SOONER THAN YOU THINK
Just Friends opens at number
six and this “in love with your best friend” idea just strikes a little too close to home for me (no, not you, her), so we’ll just talk about other things, like how Ryan Reynolds is also determined to piss away his bullet. He’s been bubbling under for years now, a perfect fit for the roles Jim Carrey is now too old for (and quite frankly was more age appropriate for Kate Winslet in Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind than Carrey was), but has instead made things like Waiting and an ill-advised shot at the action movie genre with Blade: Trinity. Not that he wouldn’t be perfect for an action comedy, but Blade was a dark series and his character had no place in it (one of many, many problems with that film). I hate to say it, but this is when you have to respect Mr. Crazy himself, Tom Cruise. He’s picked roles that fit him almost perfectly for 20 years now. Only when you look around at the wreckage on the highway do you realize what a singular talent that is and how many others lack it. Speaking of Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes’s first fiancée, Chris Klein, is also in this and if you want to know how famous Tom Cruise is, he’s so famous, his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend gets a career boost from it. Klein has gotten more attention in the last six months than he has since the first American Pie movie. Completing the career struggle trifecta of this movie is Amy Smart, not the prettiest young actress working, but very appealing and also needs to show more discretion in her role choosing. She’s outlasted the girl she was most mistaken for, Ali Larter (they were both in Varsity Blues; Larter wore the whipped cream bikini), but only because she was fortunate enough to be in Road Trip and take her shirt off and then make out with Carmen Electra in Starsky & Hutch, making her a frat boy dream girl. All in all, she’s the girl you call when you can’t get Kate Bosworth, which is why she’s
here and Kate Bosworth is now Lois Lane.
KENNETH BRANAGH IS AN IDIOT
Pride & Prejudice rises to number seven and finding out Emma Thompson did an uncredited rewrite of the script means I may actually have to see this now, because I fucking loved Sense & Sensibility,
which---all respect to Ang Lee---was all about her.
BRING OUT THE MUTHAFUCKING SAMUEL L. JACKSON IN ME AGAIN!
Derailed is down to number
eight and what the fuck are The RZA and Xzibit doing in this!?! Again,
some poor bastard who went into student loan debt to study acting is forced
to keep waiting tables, while successful rappers takes the only available
job available to a young black actor. It doesn’t work the other way, because being able to rap is actually something of a skill. It’s not like singing, which can be faked or enhanced electronically. It’s actually like being able to play an instrument. Either you can flow or you can’t or either you can rap or you can’t. Witness the rap albums from pro athletes, most of which you’ve never heard because they were too awful to be released. Or mine, “Straight Out of Gotham City” from my group NWC (Niggas With Comics). “I’m Straight out Gotham/A crazy nigga named Batman/Beatin’ down crazy muthafuckas like The Penguin/The Boy Wonder is my sidekick/You break the law I’ll make you suck my bat-dick…”
MAYBE SAMUEL L. JACKSON WAS
WRONG…
Opening at number nine is In
The Mix, Usher’s answer to Mariah Carey’s Glitter. Okay, maybe not that huge of a bomb, but an obviously crappy movie nonetheless. When you refuse to have critical screenings, you know you’ve made crap. At least Mariah Carey had the brains to play a singer. Usher’s playing a DJ and doesn’t sing or dance? Hello? Have we learned nothing from Purple Rain or Madonna’s career? And let’s stop pretending he’s some sort of Little Denzel. Usher is goofy looking. He may not be outright fugly, but he’s not attractive either, not with that giant potato nose of his. Again, have we not learned from the past? Did you not see Michael Jackson’s first nose? Hell, Michael’s original nose was better than that thing on Usher’s face. How about Sting? Sting originally had a big potato nose too, but that was gone after the first album (check the covers). But Usher is a moron, saying things like “Great artists, borrow; the rest steal.” DUMBASS! The quote is from T.S. Eliot and it goes, "Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different." And he’s acting like he didn’t lift his entire performance from Michael Jackson! And he doesn’t make it better or different and sings less! And Emmanuelle Chirqui is once again wasted. Lucky for her she’s got a brief gig playing the girl too hot for Eric on entourage (he’ll ruin the relationship next season, because that’s what I would do). She started off smoking up something as stupid as Snow Day, where she proved why darker complexioned women cannot wear sheer white (they all look like they’re hiding two chocolate kisses under their shirts). Pity Chazz Palminteri, who made a good film in A Bronx Tale, but since then he might as well be Black, his roles are so limited to either cop or criminal. It’s gotta hurt when your only choices are “Play another mafia guy or don’t eat.” Stay
strong, brutha! We shall overcome!
THERE’S ONLY FUNNY “HA-HA” EVERYTHING ELSE SIMPLY ISN’T
FUNNY
Finally, The Ice Harvest opens
at number ten and I was actually preparing to see this, despite a lackluster
trailer, because it was directed by Harold Ramis who is a comedy god. But
then I read he didn’t write it, no now there was no way I was going to sit through another movie where I forced to look at John Cusack’s middle-aged bloat (I can stay home and see my own for free). And Billy Bob Thornton is determined to become king of the anti-Christmas movies, which I’ve got no problem with. In fact, there need to be more of them, but they’re
always trying so hard to anti-holiday, they forget to be pro-humor and this
looks like that type of movie.
A STRANGER IN HIS OWN LAND
So, I blew off Macy’s to work in…ST.
MARK’S COMICS! Yes, my long overdue destiny has finally come. Sorry, but I simply was not going to wear a jacket and tie to sell Men’s Underwear. I don’t wear a jacket and tie to the real estate agency, where they literally put together million dollar deals and you think I’m gonna fucking wear it for boxer briefs? I don’t think so. Not only do I wear my own clothes at the comic book store, but I get to wear my superhero shirts…all 22 of them (11 Superman, 2 Spider-man, 1 Green Lantern, 4 Captain America, 2 Batman, 1 Nightwing, 1 Fantastic Four). On day one, I wore Captain America. On day two I wore Batman. Twenty more to go (okay, only 16 because four are tank tops and that doesn’t fly, not even in a comic book store). But an odd thing occurred in the comic book store. I realized just how far way from the maddening crowd I’d was in my geek king tower. I don’t know manga, anime, little goth comics (like Johnny The Homicidal Maniac), and quite frankly stopped reading X-Men over a decade ago. The best I could do with a lot of questions was, “Ask that guy over there.” And no matter how often I see it, it will still shock me: Geek girls who actually look like girls and not look like geek boys with make-up. Actually, they tend to look like either like indie rock chicks or extras from The Matrix. Except the Asian girls, who look normal because comics and fantasy and science fiction are part of mainstream society in Asia. This is why one Asian guy bought a metal Dr. Doom mask for a couple hundred dollars and his buddy bought an authentic replica of a Darth Vader light saber for even more. In total, they spent more than my rent on geek stuff, but were otherwise normal in appearance and behavior. You don’t get that otherwise. Even the little girl whom I was working with expressed a desire for a guy who was geeky, but not over-the-top geeky, like guys tend to be. This is someone who bought comics to take home immediately after her shift ended. Let this be an indicator on how scary geek boys can be. Trust me. I can control it for the most part, but tell me how much you like Michael Keaton as Batman and the beast will come out. Despite the clothing, the ability to groom myself, the time actually spent in the gym, I become just like every other overly-fat/skinny geek with greasy hair and bad skin when provoked. And can I tell you how much I resent the actual good-looking comic book reader. How dare you!?! How dare you, sir!?! These are for the socially awkward and isolated, not you! It’s like when Billy Campbell said he liked comics. It’s
not right for a guy who fucking looks like Superman to read Superman. Nicholas
Cage was fugly, so that made sense. Not this guy.
LOOK UP “INSIDIOUS” AND THERE’S
PICTURE OF YOUR FAMILY
I was headed out to New Jersey
for Thanksgiving, complete with The Libertine at my side when she got an
eleventh hour call from her mother and soon had a 13 hour bus ride to Ohio
booked. I pitied her that guilty attack---until I got my own. The night
before I was to leave, my dad calls me and asks me in an accusatory tone
what I was doing about his sisters in The Bronx and Westchester. Apparently
they called him about me, saying they couldn’t reach me. They didn’t have my number. A number THEY
COULDN’T ASK HIM FOR! A NUMBER I HAVE LISTED FOR JUST THIS REASON! Sigh. When I told him I had plans my dad then told me I’d have to call them and say so. He couldn’t pass along a message for me, but he could do it for them. Needless to say, there was no chance I was going to be able to blow them off now. They’d blindsided and backdoored me all at the same time. Only family can do that to you. As passive-aggressive as all hell. Not that my family isn’t nice. They are. And they don’t mess with me because they know I’m totally capable of not speaking to anyone. My mother once questioned me on this until she got caught up in some family bullshit and then told my sisters she suddenly understood why I’m pretty much off the grid. If you see me once a year, you’re lucky. Annoy me and you won’t see me at all. Besides, the food is too fucking good. It’s real southern food and aside from two helpings there, I bring home leftovers that I eat for two days (I felt so fat I actually broke out the “Power Yoga with Rodney Yee” DVD to work some of it off). And then there are family conversations about things you’d rather not know. Now, it’s great that my parents are held up even in my own family as a loving couple after nearly 40 years of marriage, but did I need my cousin’s detailed recounting on stumbling in on my parents…I can’t even say it. And the detail she went into! When I get home for Christmas, I’m kicking my father’s ass. My mom is not that kind of woman, so it’s
all his fault.
“DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT HISTORY…”
Rome is done until Spring of ’07!?! Oh-fucking-seven!?! Sigh. Now, I’ve become like The Sopranos’ fans I’ve always mocked and pitied. Waiting years for a new episode…what the fuck? In any case, it ended great with the death of Julius Caesar. No “Et tu, Brutae?” but that would have been too much. And you know what comes next? Anthony and Cleopatra. Yeah, baby! And I had no idea Lucius Vorenus was Tommy from Trainspotting. He seriously went from looking like a boy to a man. The only upside is the time will allow the kid playing Octavian to grow up enough to continue playing the role as Octavian becomes…wait. Why should I tell you? I get an odd sense of superiority from knowing there are people who DID
NOT KNOW HOW JULIUS CAESAR MET HIS END. I’m
not kidding. Bet you these same idiots watch war movies wondering who wins.
“YOU’RE SO 1988” BY EPPERLY – DOWNLOAD
IT NOW
It took 47 years, two kids
and some serious heels, but in the video for “Hung Up” Madonna actually appears to have an ass, which is amazing because she never even came close before. Odd for an Italian girl who liked men of color---which is still in effect judging by her video. I guess when you have a taste for chocolate but marry an Englishman you have to get your jollies at work. The song sounds like an up-tempo version of Depeche Mode’s “Only When I Loose Myself” but since they ripped off New Order’s “Confusion” in the 80’s to make “People Are People” they can say nothing. But let me get this straight: Madonna is on the cover of Rolling Stone, Cindy Crawford is on the cover of a men’s magazine, Kate Bush has a new album, Stallone is making another Rambo movie and Rick Springfield is on General Hospital as Dr. Noah Drake!?! Who the hell turned the clock back to 1988!?! No, I don’t want it to be 1988 again, because sadly, like Woody Allen, I’d just make all the same mistakes. Oh, the names and places may change, but the fuck ups would be the same. To this day I don’t know why I chose the legal publishing job over the Warner Brothers Publishing job. Needless to say, that would have had a slight dramatic impact on my life to have been an employee of Time Warner. Kinda like what would have happened to Burt Ward if the producers of the Batman TV show had let him off to do the movie a producer handpicked him for: The Graduate. I even remember the guy at Warner telling me I made the decision too quickly. And the cherry on top? He wanted me as his assistant because there were so many women working there and he wanted another guy! Okay, let’s tally up this fuck up: I blew off female-heavy job at Time Warner Publishing where I would gotten not just free books, but would have access to Warner Brothers films and DC Comics to work in legal publishing in the shit neighborhood around Madison Square Garden, where I quit after six months because I fell asleep at my desk and my boss gave me shit about it and I wasn’t taking shit for shit job (another girl went on vacation and simply didn’t come back). Oh, yeah. I was plenty, plenty dumb. Maybe next time we’ll look back on my fucking up at Showtime, which was Viacom, which was access to Paramount Pictures and MTV. Then we’ll list the women I should have slept with, but didn’t.
Guess which of these memories hurts the most?
WHATEVER LIVES IN VEGAS, DIES IN VEGAS
Pat Morita, initially known to one generation as one of the two Arnolds on Happy Days and then to another as Mr. Miyagi of the Karate Kid movies, died in Las Vegas. Now Ralph Macchio and Hilary Swank can meet at his funeral---which is the closest Macchio will get to one Oscar, let alone two.
11/21/05 THREE WIZARDS AND A FUNERAL
To the surprise of no one,
Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire opens at number one and I still refuse to join this cult. In fact, the most interesting thing about it is how every significant English actor (not already claimed by a fantasy movie franchise) is willing to be in these movies. This one is directed by Mike Newell, who made one of my favorite films ever: Four Weddings & A Funeral. Unfortunately, he proved to be a bit of a one trick pony, as without Richard Curtis writing, he’s gone on to make nothing of note. And if you saw Love Actually, you know Richard Curtis shouldn’t be directing either. How do we get these kids back together? Supposedly, because an Englishman is finally behind the franchise the boarding school sequences are more authentic. I take that to mean Harry rapes his redheaded friend in the shower while the other boys cheer him on and the girl learns the joys of showerhead and learns to kiss by practicing on the other girls? No? Well then I’m
definitely not seeing it.
HELLO, I’M AN ACTOR PLAYING
JOHNNY CASH
Walk The Line opens at number
on and all celebrity bio-pics are the same. The humble beginnings, the
rise to fame, the crash to earth and the comeback, where the movie wisely
ends before revealing they only failed again right afterwards. This has
been called this year’s Ray and there are similarities. Both had the approval and support of their subjects before their deaths (which means if someone offers to do your life story it’s pretty much guaranteed you’ll die), both men come from near poverty in the south, both lose brothers to horrible accidents and are haunted by it for life and both get busted for their drug addictions. Unfortunately, neither film is all that exceptional and what gets you through are the performance, both acting and musical. In fact, Walk The Line is more like a bio-pic between a bunch of performances, they come so often and believe it or not, Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon do all their own singing. I’m not a fan of River’s fugly-ass brother, and while he obviously lacks Cash’s physical presence, he otherwise does a good job here channeling him (Cash was such a fan of Gladiator, he had Phoenix over for dinner) and should net him at least a nomination just like Jamie Foxx acquired one for Ray. I prefer Walk The Line because unlike Ray we get some sense of musical context. In Ray, we’re told Ray Charles is a superstar, yet we never see any of his musical contemporaries, much less acknowledge the existence of rock & roll. This is not the case in Walk The Line, as we see Elvis recording with Sam Phillips, which motivates Cash to try the same. Later, Johnny Cash tours with Elvis (where we hysterically see the beginnings of a bad diet and drug use), Jerry Lee Lewis (who still deserves his own good movie) and Buddy Holly (whose movie also netted Gary Busey an Academy Award nomination). At one point we also get to see Waylon Jennings. But the irony is, where are more of his country contemporaries? Not to mention Bob Dylan, who had a serious hand in resurrecting Cash’s career (though Dylan is mentioned). The other advantage this has over Ray is the legendary real life romance of Johnny Cash and June Carter and the film wisely makes this its focus. Actually my primary motivation for seeing this (other than a kick ass trailer) was to finally see Reese Witherspoon free with her natural accent. I am a fan (though not fan enough to see that freaking coma movie), but I get a little tired of watching vainly try to hide that Tennessee twang. Finally she has role where she can let it rip and she does. Almost makes me homesick. Almost. Needless to say, she’s got a nomination coming as well. One of Cash’s daughters was upset that his first wife gets the short shrift, but she doesn’t. As the neglected and ultimately betrayed first wife, it’s
made pretty clear that it was Cash who was the bad guy in their marriage,
not her.
WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS, LEMONADE THE HELL OUT OF THEM
Chicken Little is down to number
three, followed by Derailed at number four and is Jennifer Anniston riding
this “wronged woman” train till the wheels come off or what? GQ’s first Woman of the Year. You know why? Because Jennifer Anniston is actually the kind of hot girl the average guy can get, as opposed to Angelina Jolie, who is the kind of hot girl only guys like Brad Pitt can get (Billy Bob was a daddy thing and does not count). An entire planet filled with non-perfect people has adopted Jennifer Anniston’s banner of being “Wrong By The Pretty” as their own. And she’s too skinny on that cover. All that “Greek weight” (her words not mine) she lost for Brad Pitt and for what? At least we know Vince Vaughn can never complain about anyone’s
weight.
I BLAME MTV AND ITS ATTENTION
DEFICIT…WHAT
WAS I TALKING ABOUT AGAIN?
Zathura is down to number five
and while I did enjoy it, I have to admit it’s mainly because it appealed to the 10-year-old geek still inside me (who keeps buying all these damn action figures). Others may not have the patience for it. Especially with the same problem that bothered the hell out of me in Jumanji. If all the trouble stops once you finish the game, why not just rush through the game instead of stopping at every event to go “Ooh” and “Oh, no!” Just fucking finish it! What compounds this is that the brothers bicker and fight like real brothers, which also slows things down. At one point the younger brother refuses to play any longer which accomplishes the odd feat of conveying just why his older brother can’t
stand him (which in turn does play into a major plot development). However,
this does not make it easier to sit there and watch.
JOE PANTIOLANO IS HIS PRIME MINISTER
Jarhead is down to number six
and also in this is Chris Cooper, king of the supporting character actors.
He was a prince before he won his Oscar, when Joe Pesci was king. Then
Pesci got his Oscar tried to be a leading man and…well, we know how that worked out. Cooper, however had no such illusions and stuck to his living, doing mainstream films like this and also appearing in Capote. Quality work and a nice big check; critical acclaim and not being responsible for a film’s success or failure. He should give a class in “Ego Management For Actors.” Or
course, no real actor would ever attend…
WHEN THE 11:00 NEWS SUDDENLY SOUNDS LIKE B.E.T.
Get Rich or Die Tryin’ is down to number seven and if not for the violence, this film may have vanished without a ripple. Not even the current trial of “Murder Inc.” has bumped up its profile. In case you hadn’t heard, the label of Ja Rule and Ashanti, Murder Inc., headed by Irv & Chris Gotti (real name Lorezno and they’re Puerto Rican) is on trial for money laundering for a gangster known as “Supreme” McGriff (real Black men have either Scottish or Irish names). At one point, 50 Cent dissed McGriff in a song, so McGriff tried to have him killed. McGriff also decided that murdering women he’d impregnated who wouldn’t
get abortions was somehow less troublesome than actually wearing a condom.
See, this is why big liberal pussies like myself still believe in a death
penalty.
WICKED NAUGHTY BAD ZOOT
Saw II is down to number eight,
followed by The Legend of Zorro at number nine and Pride & Prejudice at holding steady at ten and apparently the Jane Austen purists are upset over a kiss in the movie, which is only in the US version. See, I don’t need this crap. Give me Bridget Jones’s Diary any day, where an updated version of this story involves jokes about bit panties, sperm on a woman’s face and the Elizabeth character having anal sex. And I hate to admit I didn’t get that until I heard the director say so on the commentary (typically fucking English with their obsession on anything ass-related). To me, that ruins the joke, because what makes it funny is that you can imagine any sort of deviant practice. Having her flat out tell us that it was anal sex between Hugh Grant and Renee Zelwegger limits it, because suppose you don’t think that’s deviant? I don’t and so my personal joke of there being a two midgets, electric clamps and a garden hose right next to the bed is now lost and that’s
soooo much funnier.
ORIGINAL TITLE: WORTHLESS BITCHES IN LOS ANGELES
Not in the top ten is Kiss,
Kiss, Bang, Bang the directorial debut from Shane Black, who wrote Lethal
Weapon, The Last Boy Scout and The Long Kiss Goodnight. It’s a send-up/homage to detective and action movies with Robert Downey Jr. as a two-bit New York thief who pretends to be an actor to get out of being arrested and winds up being trained for a movie role in LA by Val Kilmer, who is an actual private detective known as “Gay Perry” because his name is Perry and well, he’s gay. The movie is a straight comedy, unlike his action films, which either had a lot of comedy in them or were inadvertent comedies---which is all of them to me, because I believe they all sucked, including Lethal Weapon. Downey is narrating and breaks the fourth wall, rewinds the film at times and points out movie clichés within the movie. Also, the movie is divided into chapters, each with a title from a Raymond Chandler story. “The Lady In the Lake” “The Little Sister” and so fourth. It’s an entertaining film with Robert Downey essentially playing the wiseass motormouth he’s played his entire career and I continue to wonder why everyone thinks he’s so good at it when he’s clearly NOT ACTING when he’s being that way. In a deliberately ironic manner, Val Kilmer is his gay “straight” man and it’s pretty damn funny. For those of you who’ve forgotten Val Kilmer made both Real Genius and the underappreciated Top Secret, so he’s got the comedy in him. Black has always been good at the one-liner and this movie is filled with them (my favorite “I was dripping like Drew Barrymore at a grunge club.”) along with his trademark homoeroticism (Downey locks lips with Kilmer twice, but avoids havin sex with his love interest twice) gross violence and the suffering of protagonists (variations of the electro-torture Mel Gibson suffered in Lethal Weapon and the hand wound Bruce Willis had in Last Boy Scout are here), but he’s also got a deeeeep misogynist streak, with particular venom for the beautiful women of LA and Downey’s character actually goes off on them at one point in a vicious tirade mocking them for being the result of sexual abuse by family members. What makes this worse is that he says this to the female lead, who came to LA to be rich and famous so she could save her younger sister who
was being sexually abused by their father. Yeah, exactly what you look for in a comedy. In addition, this female lead was Downey’s high school crush, who fucked everyone in high school but him and don’t think she’s not made to suffer for this later on (and while I hate to admit it, the scene where she does suffer is pretty funny). There’s also a casting issue here, as while Michele Monaghan (Hollywood’s next Hot Young Thing, who’s also in Mission Impossible 3) is good in her role, she’s obviously a good 15 years younger than Downey, with whom she’s supposed to have gone to high school. Not to mention when she comments of there being younger girls in Hollywood than her, you want to yell out, “Who? Dakota Fanning!?!” And Shannyn Sossamon should give her a warning, as she’s in this as well. She was a Hot Young Thing alongside Heath Ledger and suffered similar career results. In this movie, she’s literally credited as “Pink Hair Girl” and has about two lines and a nude scene that’s
ruined by the presence of Corbin Bernsen. Sorry, but only someone who hates
women would make them do a nude sex scene with Corbin Bernsen in his current
state.
STAR GAZING
It’s been a long time for celebs and aside from Ethan Hawke in a grocery store, there was Joe Pesci on 52nd & 10th, standing outside his black town car talking on his cell phone. He was in all black and so were the three---who shall I phrase this---“mooks” standing
near him smoking. What is it about Blacks and Italians and their need to
look like thugs while bitching about being stereotyped as thugs? Either stop
whining or put on that Izod.
IT’S NOT AMERICA; IT’S DALLAS,
TEXAS
And because we cannot go a
week without some sort of cheerleader reference, this week it’s my new favorite show: Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, which is about the audition process and training camp for Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders and nothing amuses me more than these pathetic women trying desperately for this “honor” only to rebuffed by the bitter, middle-aged, former Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader who believes it his her holy mission to protect it from those undeserving. Row after row of little blonde, generically pretty girls. And it’s no accident they looked a little porn-star-ish because aren’t porn stars just a highly sexualized American ideal to the point of parody? Well, just what the hell do you think they like in Dallas for their cheerleaders? Now I’m
sorry I missed a similar show about Coyote Ugly girls.
11/14/05 VIDEO RITALIN
Chicken Little holds at number
one and what a racket the computer animated children’s film has become. Crappy children’s films have always been a source of income for Hollywood, but never so much since home video became a surefire babysitter. The worst film ever made can find a second life if it proves capable of occupying children for at least half an hour, saving both them and their parents from a visit from Children’s Services. Thanks to the incredible success of Pixar, computer animation has become the latest fad in this racket. But to see what Pixar does and see the rest of crap is like seeing Pulp Fiction and then seeing the two hundred low-level-mobsters-talking-about-pop-culture-with-horrible-acts-of-violence films that followed. And you get a view of the horrible wave of crap to come in the trailers before Chicken Little. Do you know how lousy your film has to be not to make a three year old wired on movie candy laugh? How utterly incompetent you have to be to produce dead fucking silence in a theater? The first sign of one of these crappy imitators is that they have to broadcast their all-star cast. One thing I can give Chicken Little is that it stuck to Disney’s tradition of putting the movie before the stars. Granted, not mentioning Zach Branaff, Gary Marshall, Joan Cusack, Amy Sedaris and Patrick Stewart is a little less than not mentioning Tom Hanks or Mel Gibson, but still these people do have their exploitable fanbases. And how pleased was I to see that Don Knotts was one of the voices in the film? I knew he wasn’t dead, but I wasn’t
sure if he was totally healthy. This shows that he most likely is. And the
bit at the end of the film with Adam West is almost worth the film itself.
Both he and William Shatner and made their overly dramatic pausing style
a source of comedy gold.
CAIN & ABEL VS. THE MARTIANS
Zathura opens at number two
and a movie about boys in space touched the young geek in me, so I had
to go. You want something above your average kiddie film? Well, you get
it with this. From the same author who created Jumanji, this is also about
a board game that comes to life that you have to play your way through.
Unlike Jumanji, however, there are biblical allusions of no less than Cain & Abel, as there are two fighting brothers. And it may be too realistic for its own good, because at times the two boys annoyed the living shit out of me, which is proof of its authenticity. There’s a small plot twist that pertains to Cain & Abel and how the pure anger of children can be dangerous, but if you know science fiction, you know it the moment it shows up. It also adds a hint of incest to it as well, as the boys have an older sister who literally sleeps through most of the movie (part of it because the game puts her into a frozen sleep). This is not to say, it still isn’t a family film, it’s just that despite it being a total fantasy film, it chooses to root itself in a three dimensional human reality. When the daughter mentions hooking up with her boyfriend that night and the father (played by Tim Robbins) questions her, concerned about just what kind of “hooking up” they will do, she replies, “I’m so sorry we rented Thirteen.” Now, obviously most kids won’t get this or the Cain & Abel allusion or the incest suggestion, and they are subtle enough that some adults won’t get them, but it’s refreshing to see this in a children’s
film. Of course this attention to depth and texture will probably doom it
financially---only to have the next generation of filmmakers tell us in 20
years time this was a seminal film for them when they were young. Trust me.
If I made a film tomorrow, I would so mention Monster Squad as one of my
most influential.
THE ULTIMATE TWIST: EVERYTHING IS EXACTLY AS IT SEEMS!
Derailed opens at number three
and all interest I had in this film was removed when the commercials started
saying “Don’t reveal the secret” indicating a “twist” which is pretty obvious from the word “GO” in wannabe noir films like this. I knew immediately what the twist was and a quick visit to a movie spoiler site proved me right. If it makes you feel any better, Jennifer, almost all of Angelina Jolie’s movies suck too. What’s unfortunate is Clive Owen continuing to make Hollywood tripe. How sad is it that his best Hollywood work was those great BMW campaign where he played “The Driver”?
BETTER KEEP YOUR DAY JOB
Get Rich or Die Tryin’ opens at number four and in a throwback to the old days of ghetto films, somebody got shot in the vicinity of this. Granted Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang was also playing in the theater, but we can be pretty sure the guys involved weren’t there seeing that. Despite my love of Jim Sheridan, I could not see this. I just don’t like 50 Cent. I never have. I won’t even download him for free. From the beginning I’ve found him to be incredibly dull, just the fortunate recipient of the superior beats of Dr. Dre and the lack of standards for Vivica Fox, and to watch an entire film about him was not how I wanted to spend some of the precious moments of my life. The only thing that even remotely piqued my interest was that Joy Bryant does her first nude scene in this movie, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find them on the internet tomorrow, courtesy of the same type of guys who participated in the shooting. Hell, the shooting may have been about that. Bootlegs, I mean. And it’s gotta be killing Terrance Howard that, despite all the praise he got for Hustle & Flow,
more people will have seen him supporting yet another rapper-turned-actor
in this (earlier this year it was Marky Mark in Four Brothers which had the
greater indignity of putting singer-turned-bad-actor Tyrese before him as
well).
OF COURSE MIAMI VICE THE MOVIE IS ALL ON HIM
Jarhead is down to number five
and while this was another film made before Jamie Foxx actually won his
Oscar, it’s actually better that his post Oscar releases have him in supporting roles, so he cannot be blamed for their failures. He was only in Stealth for thirty seconds before becoming Wiseass Black Best Friend Who Dies, so that’s more a failure for Josh Lucas, who was the film’s lead. And this is utterly Jake Gyllenhaal’s
movie so not only does he escape the wreckage, but so does Peter Sarsgaard,
who is obviously playing the old indie game of whoring yourself in big Hollywood
movies so you can make the small films you really want. This is his third
this year, after Flightplan and The Skeleton Key.
SHE WORKS HARD FOR THE MONEY
Saw II is down to number six
and in this sequel is one of my personal favorites, Dina Meyer (who fulfilled
a fantasy for me by portraying Barbara Gordon/Batgirl a few years ago),
who was also in the first. I’m glad Dina has found regular work without having to take her clothes off, but I’m also sad that she was saved from having to take her clothes off to find regular work. She’s played a dozen sexy slutty roles in her---cough-cough---“career” but only got naked for, of all things, Starship Troopers. Not even in one of the sequels to Wild Things (yes, they’ve made two direct-to-video sequels…so far). Then again, she’s 35 now and actually wound up the mom of one of the girls in the sequel and recently on the horrific Point Pleasant, she was the slutty mom of the hot girl. So it may be that no one’s
asking her to get naked any more. Hollywood is so cruel.
MISS CONGENIALITY WANTS 80%
OF SOPHIE’S
LINES CUT
The Legend of Zorro is down
to number seven followed by Prime at number eight and originally Sandra
Bullock was supposed to play the Uma Thurman role and it was rated “R” but they got a PG-13 on appeal. Sandra Bullock it seems wanted major script changes and when the writer/director wouldn’t do it, she dropped out and Uma Thurman stepped in two weeks before shooting. Let me get this straight: the script was good enough FOR
MERYL-FUCKING-STREEP but the woman who made Miss Congeniality 1&2 and signed up for Speed 2 when even Keanu Reeves bowed out wanted changes. Yeah, I can’t
imagine why he told her to go fuck herself.
NEXT: PRIDE & PREJUDICE IN
SPACE!
Dreamer: Inspired by A True
Story is down to number nine, followed by the umpteenth version of Pride & Prejudice opening at number ten, which isn’t bad considering it’s only in 215 theaters. Sorry, but I’m all Pride & Prejudiced out. Between Bridget Jones’s Diary, Bride & Prejudice (the Bollywood musical version), a modern-day Australian version set in a bookstore that’s constantly on cable and just reading the book last year, I’ve had enough. Besides, The French Woman will not rest until she makes me watch the BBC version with Colin Firth and since she’s
moving back here soon I have to save my strength for that.
NOT-SO-HOT LESBIAN CHEERLEADERS
Okay, so two adult professional
football cheerleaders were caught having sex in a bathroom. So much for
all you people criticizing porn. Told you could really happen! Now, all
we need it for a couple of nurses and flight attendants to go public and
half the all-girl porn ever made will be redeemed. What’s funny and sad is that cheerleaders in question were no prettier than your average porn star. Needless to say, the NFL got rid of them instantly in another wonderful display of hypocrisy. The Minnesota Vikings can have a fucking orgy on a boat and all keep their jobs, but two women cannot hook-up in a can. Why? Because no one’s
paying to see cheerleaders, not even me.
I AM THE WALRUS: NOT ABOUT WINSTON CHURCHILL
Music trivia: John Lennon wrote “She Said She Said” because a fucked up Peter Fonda (yes, I know that’s redundant) kept whispering in his ear “I know what it’s like to be dead, man” while they were at a party and Lennon himself was on acid. One day someone’s going to have to tally up all the celeb-based Beatles’ songs. And by someone, I mean “not me” so don’t
hold your breath.
IT’S 31 THAT SUCKS BECAUSE IT MEANS YOU’RE
NOT GOING BACKWARDS
Finally, The Former Miss Pretty
Boy turned 30 this week and had a birthday dinner party. I took The Libertine
with me since her boyfriend was out of town and she continues to endear herself
to me by revealing she sleeps in Superman underwear. There were many of the
usual suspects I’d met before, including Star Trek Woman whom I now refer
to as Little Miss Impulse, because of her habit of buying whatever new toy
she wants that day, which so far has included an iBook and the ipod Nano.
Not a lot of “maybe I should sleep on it” going on there. But new to me
were her neighbors. An absolutely gorgeous creature I called “Domestic Goddess” all
night because she never stopped helping in the kitchen. Not to mention pouring
me my first glass of wine for the night and kept on pouring and drinking
all night long. It was truly impressive that someone a little over five feet
tall could down that much wine with no ill effect and smoke a joint on top
of it. As it turned out her Chinese name actually meant “domestic goddess” which
amused her husband (who may be her High Priest as he was drafted to do a
little cooking), because he insisted she was never like this at home. They
became my favorite couple by then telling me they’d eloped to Vegas like
I’d always wanted to do. But both insisted it was the other who didn’t want
to do a drive-thru wedding. Domestic Goddess then sealed the deal of my devotion
by engaging me in a conversation about Star Trek---before falling from grace
by expressing a distain for the only real Star Trek calling it corny, dismissing
the macking skills of James T. Kirk and saying it lacked substance. WHAT
THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?! IT WAS THE DEPTH OF THE FIRST SERIES THAT
ALL THE OTHERS HAVE TRIED TO ACHIEVE! EVERY TIME STAR TREK: NEXT DEEP SPACE
VOYAGING ENTERPRISE GENERATION TRIES SOME BULLSHIT METAPHOR FOR A “REAL LIFE” ISSUE,
IT’S TRYING TO LIVE UP TO THE ORIGINAL SERIES! Not to mention if any
of them were worth a fucking damn they wouldn’t need to constantly refer
back to the original! But I still adore her and spent the rest of the night
telling her so, which I hoped helped the husband out in the end. Also at
the party was a guy I met at Former Miss Pretty Boy’s wedding whom I shall
refer to as Pepe La Pew. He’s not French but he’s got Pepe’s attitude of
going after women relentlessly, as he did all night long, despite having
a girl there. He went after The Libertine and Domestic Goddess and while
The Libertine was merely amused by Pepe’s sleazy relentlessness, Domestic
Goddess was pissed and being from Brooklyn, her talk quickly turned to kicking
his ass. The thing is, Pepe (who is not attractive and of some undetermined
probable Middle-Eastern origin) has obviously met with some success with
this technique, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing it. The girl he was with
was attractive, albeit in a totally conventional to the point of being generic
sort of way. His partner in crime is actually a soft-spoken, nice guy and
better looking so I can understand why I always see him with an attractive
girl, but Pepe’s companions are either the result of his pressure technique,
their own low self-esteem, or he has money. Or maybe all three (I know there’s
a fourth, but guys who are packing don’t act like this). In any case, at
one point Little Miss Impulse, Domestic Goddess and The Libertine all gathered
together in an effort to keep him off the couch and away from any of them.
Of course, in tried-and-true eunuch boy fashion, I was the fourth member
of this party, because, after all, there’s no way I could be a sexual
threat to any of them. The Libertine’s boyfriend returned earlier than expected
and she dashed off to see him, hoping he couldn’t tell she’d been smoking
weed, while I stayed and talked with Natasha The Filmmaker, who actually
knew Hal Hartley, which totally caught my attention. Natasha (whom I call
this because she’s Russian and I have no imagination) went to Harvard and
apparently Hartley taught there and she was one of his students. She told
me he’s moved to Germany with his Japanese porn star wife (you can see them
together in the third segment of Flirt) because he has more support there.
Also he was smart enough to retain total ownership over all his films. She
proved to be quite the pretentious pseudo intellect, the likes of which I
hadn’t seen since severing contact with My Arizona Problem. Natasha doesn’t
make traditionally narrative films which means she jerks off and wants to
make the rest of us watch. I know these people, so I was able to say shit
like “David Lynch doesn’t so much makes films, as paint, using celluloid
as a canvas” and hold a conversation with her. By the end of the night the
party had degenerated into drunken dancing and by the time the third wave
of guests had arrived, the birthday girl herself had gone to bed and that
was my cue to go home. Amazingly, Domestic Goddess was finally showing signs
of intoxication, so I concluded my work was done. Of course I had to get
up the next morning and work an open house. Normally, I’d be disappointed
there weren’t many visitors, but I desperately needed the recovery time and
capped off my hangover recovery in the tried and true tradition of greasy
fast food, courtesy of Popeye’s.
Yes, I am that Black after all.
11/07/05
OUR STOCK IS FALLING! OUR STOCK IS FALLING!
Chicken Little opens at number one and Disney is only sighing a half-sigh of relief. This is their first non-Pixar computer generated animated movie and while it didn’t flat out tank, it’s still a far cry from The Incredibles’ opening last year at $70M. And there’s a reason why. I’m not going to say I didn’t laugh during Chicken Little. I did. But there was nothing in it that made me laugh an hour or even fifteen minutes later. This is closer to Shrek’s empty calorie laughs than anything Pixar does (at least until that horrible-looking Cars movie comes out). It’s nothing above sitcom level humor with the same over-dependence on pop culture. A far cry from a near-brilliant teaser trailer from a year ago where the press hounds Chicken Little on his way home. And take out the pop music in this movie and not only do you shorten it’s running time by a good 10-15 minutes, but you remove a great deal of its laughs (though I did appreciate the understated Carole King moment). Such is not the case in Toy Story, A Bug’s Life, Finding Nemo, etc. And you’ll grow old waiting on the same type of emotional resonance with its practically non-developed sub-plot of Chicken Little searching for his father’s approval. Quite frankly, it lacks the pre-requisite, realistic bitterness for any true emotional meaning. In Finding Nemo, Marlin (the father) was genuinely annoying, but you actually got see growth that made the eventually happy resolution that much more enjoyable. Here, the father’s approval never really stings and changes with the flick of a switch. It’s telling that for me, the funniest character is Fish-Out-Of-Water, who never speaks. His character is so irrepressibly happy you get the feeling he thinks he’s actually in Finding Nemo and not this. And they show no balls with characterization. The character of Runt Of The Litter (a huge pig, of course) loves Barbara Streisand, female singer-songwriters and disco, but at the end they give him a girlfriend so suddenly, you can practically see the studio memo onscreen reading, “YOU CANNOT EVEN SUGGEST A GAY CHARACTER IN A KID’S FILM. GO OUT OF YOUR WAY TO SHOW HE’S STRAIGHT OR WE’LL TURN THIS OVER TO SOMEONE WHO WILL.”
SOMEWHERE TOBEY MAGUIRE COUNTS HIS SPIDER-MAN MONEY AND LAUGHS
Jarhead opens at number two and while I was initially up for seeing this, I felt my motivation die when the director, Sam “Mr. Kate Winslet” Mendes said that you couldn’t do a better war movie than Full Metal Jacket. The fuck you can’t. I know I’m in the minority, but I think Kubrick is as overrated as hell and that Fully Metal Jacket was heavy-handed tripe, only original and innovative to someone who hadn’t seen any other war movie for the last twenty years. But this actually makes sense. Sam Mendes did American Beauty, another overrated movie and only innovative to someone who’d never heard of Cheever or Updike. And then there’s Jake Gyllenhaal, the man you call when Tobey Maguire says, “No.” In further Full Metal Jacket comparisons, he may be the new Matthew Modine, the guy who seemed poised to be the next big leading man, but never quite made it. He keeps trying, but nothing he’s done so far seems to gel. After all, the special effects were the star of The Day After Tomorrow. But damn if this doesn’t have a great ad campaign. It actually made me like “Jesus Walks” and I fucking hate Kanye West. I gave that cd away I hate him so much.
AND AT ANOTHER TABLE, DEE DEE PFEIFFER, PAGE HANNAH AND TRACEY GRIFFITH
Saw II is down to number three and Donnie Wahlberg is in this and all I can think of now when I see him is “entourage” even though there really is a “Johnny Drama” who isn’t Mark Wahlberg’s brother. And like all celebrity brothers, he trolls the movie ghettos of horror films and straight-to-video action movies and no matter how they well they do, it really doesn’t elevate him. Eventually, like Frank Stallone and Don Swazye before him, he will give up and on that day we’ll throw a party.
ANOTHER LORD OF GEEK HELL
The Legend of Zorro is down to number four and this is apparently the week to discuss stars that never quite make it. This time it’s Stuart Townsend, who’s also in this and utterly wasted as the evil French Aristocrat (redundant, I know). He had his shot at the brass ring in Queen of the Damned, which is a really bad movie that I love and one of the reasons I love it (and why he’s wasted in this film) is that he does decadence very, very well. His portrayal of Dorian Gray was one of the best things about that movie and it was more rich and decadent. Unfortunately, neither film was a huge success so he’s best known for being Charlize Theron’s boyfriend and her date the night she won the Oscar while she was orange. He’s lucky he got his current gig as the new Night Stalker, which gives him the resume needed to make a living just attending science fiction and fantasy conventions for the rest of his life.
SAID IT LOUD, I’M THE ORIGINALLY OPPRESSED AND I’M PROUD!
Prime is down to number give and in this film there’s steady undercurrent of unabashed Jewish pride, as witnessed by a neverending series of t-shirts and even gold medallions proclaiming the fact. Though I am a little confused by the t-shirt Uma Thurman’s love interest is wearing that reads “Palestinians Do It Better.” Yes, I know the land was originally called Palestine, but why is he wearing it? How many Jews refer to themselves as Palestinians? And because they are New York Jews, there is a love of hip-hop and basketball, especially the former, which is all over the soundtrack. At one point Uma Thurman insists he take her to where he’d normally spend a Saturday night---which of course is at a party where he’s one of the few White people present. It also treats you to a sight that’s practically worth the movie: Uma Thurman rockin’ a hoodie while dancing to Biggie. “Hearthrob never/Fat, black and ugly as ever/However, I remain Gucci down to the socks…”
DON’T YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T KILL PURE EVIL?
Dreamer: Inspired by a True Story, is down to number six followed by Good Night and Good Luck, entering the top ten at number seven and also in this is Robert Downey Jr. Why? What is this eternal hard-on people in Hollywood have for this guy? He must know where all the bodies are buried...or suck really good dick, because no matter how many films flop, no matter how much he fucks up, he keeps getting shots, and not just tiny charity shot either. No cable movies, or straight-to-video productions. He gets roles in A-list movies like this and a shot on what was then the hottest show on TV, Ally McBeal. Speaking of which, what were you fuckers thinking making that piece of shit number one? Even if you hated Sex & The City, you have to thank it for all but wiping Ally McBeal off the cultural map. For something that was once on the cover of Time Magazine, it has been utterly forgotten. I mean, you don’t even see it in reruns, while Sex & The City is on two channels. But I can’t watch it censored. Half the fun was Miranda and Samantha cursing.
THE HARDEST WORKING MAN IN SHOW BUSINESS.
The Weather Man is down to number eight and Michael Caine is slowly returning to his 80’s peak when he was in virtually every other film that was released. He was also in Bewitched and Batman Begins earlier this year. But at least he’s staying A-list this time. I hope he bought something nice with the money he got for Jaws The Revenge, because there’s no real excuse for that.
DIRTY, OLD, OLD MAN
Shopgirl enters the top ten at number nine and you’ll have to pay me to see this, because the thought of a sex scene between Steve Martin and Claire Dane makes me physically ill. And yes, there is one. It’s Claire Danes’s first nude scene and our long war to stop her from doing it has obviously been in vain. I appreciate her generous, non-Hollywood hips, but the girl ain’t pretty and never will be. And who the hell wants to see Steve Martin naked with his 60-year-old dirty old man ass? Bear in mind this movie is based on his novella and he wasn’t originally supposed to be in it, but then he couldn’t bear not to. Yeah, I’m sure getting paid to rub up against a woman 1/3 your age didn’t motivate you. So creepy. Sorry, but he once sent his manager to act as his pimp to a friend of mind and that’s never far from my mind when I see him. And then there’s the whole Anne Heche thing… I still blame you bastards for not appreciating Bowfinger for the great comedy it was for his current miserable existence as a pretentious, pseudo-genteel humor intellect writer and bad comedy movie whore. Cheaper By The Dozen 2 is a spit in the eye of god.
THE END
Finally, Flightplan closes out the top ten at number ten.
THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED…OR ANIMATED FOR THAT MATTER
I hate Sundays. I hate Sundays because they are the best TV day of the week. From football pre-shows at 11:00 am through The Simpsons, Rome, Grey’s Anatomy, Robot Chicken and the football wrap-up shows at midnight, it’s couch potato heaven. I was afraid Boondocks would add to this list, but I should have known better. The comic strip has always been uneven. In fact, its best days were its early days. Once he became fiercely political Aaron McGruder was all-too-eager to sacrifice humor for his angry little middle-class geek “message.” His funniest strips have nothing to do with politics, racial or otherwise. They’re all geek related, usually about Star Wars. His only funny political joke was when the couple next door briefly split when Al Gore lost and the husband blamed his wife because she voted for Ralph Nader. Now that was funny because it was smart and not heavy-handed with “message.” But that was it. Also, working on this show is Denys Cowan, whom I knew when I worked at a video store he used to frequent. He’s a comic book artist and I tried to make a contact like any good geek, but he did nothing for me. Thanks for helping a brutha, Denys, with your dumbass spelling of your name. IT’S DENNIS, BITCH! AND YOU RUINED STEEL! Apparently it was minority humor night, because following Robot Chicken---which was funnier in thirty seconds than all of Boondocks---was Minoriteam which was no less heavy-handed. A thin joke (a superhero team made of minority stereotypes fights their enemies The White Shadow and Racist Frankenstein) stretched our far too long. It was thirty seconds of funny, but was dragged out to 15 minutes. But I gotta give props to irrelevance to whoever created a superhero called Jewcano. “A man with all the powers of the Jewish race…and a volcano!” It’s funny because it makes no fucking sense at all. All this can be blamed on David Chappelle. Because he’s funny and insanely successful with racial humor every asshole with a bone to pick thinks he can do it. But they overlook two crucial aspects of Chappelle’s humor: 1) it’s smart and 2) he’s got no axe to grind. There’s no anger clouding his humor, which is why there are light years between the insight of a Racial Draft (famous people are “claimed” by whatever race wants them the most based on perceived commonalities; Whites claim Colin Powell, Asians claim the Wu Tang Clan and Tiger Woods is finally Black) and a seemingly endless sequence on Boondocks where an old drunk Black man sang “Don’t Trust Them New Niggas” while Whites politely applauded. First of all, only the former was funny. And what’s with Regina King doing the voices of both the boys? I know it’s common for women to do male children voices (Bart Simpson anyone?) but Regina King doesn’t sound like a boy. She sounds like a woman trying to sound like a child. It simply doesn’t work.
TRAGEDY ON 34TH STREET
Finally we’ve hit rock bottom in our employment. After near 18 months of being jobless (and almost a full year of hardcore looking), I’ve decided to try and a get a part-time job, ‘cause this temp salary is simply not doing it. Even if I sold an apartment today (which is not going to happen) it would still be months before the closing and I finally saw the money---and that’s if nothing goes wrong and it often does. No, I need money now, so it being that time of the year, I decided to look into Macy’s holiday help. I applied online and was called for an interview the next day and scheduled for Saturday morning at 11:00. Now, Macy’s is an institution and it knows it and likes itself. When giving me directions to the HR department I was told “Go to the 8th floor and find women’s coats. Behind women’s coats are two glass doors. There you will find the emperor of the snakes. He will ask you two riddles…” Just tell me to go to the 8th Floor! What is “you will find two glass doors” crap, like I’m freaking Sinbad looking for the Eye of the Tiger!?! It was an assembly line interview and seeing how the only thing worse than not getting the job would be getting the job, I watched as some people were told, “We’ll call you,” while I was asked to wait and meet with someone else and then with another person. Is there no more awkward or stupid question than “Why do you want to work here?” As if working retail fulfills some emotional need in anyone. It’s seasonal fucking help! I’m obviously there for extra Christmas money! I don’t want to work there than I want to work any fucking where! I made up some crap and it apparently it was crap they liked, because I will be working in Men’s Basics. Yes, underwear. Why? Well, obviously I’m gay and heard men’s drawers would be half-off. Yes, make your jokes now. I’ll remember them when you want to use my discount. If I wind up there. Once getting the gig, I was informed I’d be required to wear a jacket and tie at all times. Excuse me? I work at a real estate firm where million dollar deals go down every day. I personally have a file for a billionaire one of my bosses is trying to land and I wear fucking jeans every day. But now I’m supposed to wear a jacket and tie for Macy’s part time retail gig? Not to mention I don’t even start training until the 21st with the actual job starting on the 27th!?! Are they fucking kidding!?! This is retail, not nuclear physics. I went to the Gap nearest to me the very next day and filled out an application there, not to mention I responded to an Amy’s Bread opening online (now them’s some benefits). The way I see it, I’ve got two weeks to escape Macy’s. In the meantime, I’m trying not to weep for myself every time I see a Macy’s
ad.