SPOILERS!!!
So the WB, in its infinite wisdom, has posted the pilot episode of its new series SUPERNATURAL on Yahoo. This is an ingeneous idea long awaited by moi. After all, I can't be bothered to actively seek out TV shows to download and watch during lunch. I like to be handed crap on a silver platter. So in what is a rare occurance, I've actually seen something before you have, and I'm going to tell you about it.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you SUPERNATURAL!!!
Let me begin by saying that SUPERNATURAL will be airing opposite HOUSE on Tuesday nights. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Okay, so...SUPERNATURAL. Here's the plot: two dudes, Brother #1 and Brother #2 (okay, it's Dean and Sam) loose their mother when they are both very young. She dies when she sees some guy in Sam's room and then next thing you know she's on the ceiling and she's been stabbed and then she bursts into flames. On the ceiling. So Sam and Dean's dad spends the rest of his life trying to find the "thing" that killed her, dragging his two sons along on his "hunting expeditions." Now they're adults, and Dad's missing, and Sam just wants to go to law school. And Dean's kind of an ass, and they lovingly call each other "bitch" and tell each other to "shut your cakehole." And they're chasing after a ghost, and I think that's Steve Railsback making a guest appearance, and then sucked into hell and more bursting into flames, and Sam gives up the Good Life to go trolling on the highway with Dean, looking for Dad.
First, lots of people who worked on the X-Files worked on this show. It looks like it too: I could barely see what was going on. SUPERNATURAL exists in that America where Daytime never happens.
Second, it's written by the dude who wrote BOOGEYMAN. Did I tell you about Boogeyman? It was shitty. Xena's in it. Not much, though. So the show's kind of like I WISH I WAS ANGEL, BUT I'M ACTUALLY MORE LIKE WALKING TALL BUT WITH ANNOYING COLLEGE KIDS.
Here's the problem: Sam's way too ernest. From the beginning of the show he's whining about how he wants a "normal life," but we're never shown how fucked up his upbringing actually was. It's hinted about, what with guns in the trunk and the incessant bickering and the credit card fraud. But look, his dad keeps a copy of a photo of the three of them with him all the time even though they long ago stopped speaking to one another so he must still really love them even though Sam hates him for ruining his life, oh and by the way Dad's a raging alcoholic, too, just for good measure, but boy does it feel good to be back in the hunt and I guess I acutally do have long suppressed feelings of love and respect for Dad but I still need to go to Law School and Have A Normal Life.
Oh, Sam, Sam...have you not learned? NEVER turn your back on Family. To do so means the show is over, and that can't possibly happen so instead your girlfriend is going to die EXACTLY LIKE YOUR MOTHER DID and now your murderous revenge dovetails nicely with your brother's and father's and you go off to find Dad because now That's All That Matters.
I don't even remember his girlfriend's name. Hmm.
For some bizarre reason, this year's new Fall season is all about space aliens and ghosts. What's that all about? Think we'd forgotten The X-Files so soon? Trying to capture lightening in a bottle? Try to capture this and see where it gets you.
So what else did I want to say? THe special effects are kind of cool. It's just...remember back in the 80s there was this glut of shows about people wandering around searching for stuff? Incredible Hulk jumps to mind (I know that was the 70s) and The Phoenix and Starman and crap like that? SUPERNATURAL is going to be just like that. Only they're looking for their mother's killer AND their dad, so I guess that means the plots are limitless.
"Well, gots to move on to another town."
That's what this show is going to end up being. Maybe I judge too soon: TV Guide practically orgasmed over it, if I remember correctly.
The other thing that bugs me, though, is that it tries to be all down with the paranormal lingo, and instead they end up randomly pulling things out of their asses and out of Google searches with no context or explanation. That's annoying. I know they're supposed to be all "knowledgeable" and whatnot, and that Sam's really good at hunting ghosts even if he wishes he wasn't, but instead of making him look like he's found his true calling he looks like he's making shit up. Which he probably is.
So, yeah, this show's not much to write home about. Maybe it'll pick up; who knows? Not me. I'll be waiting around for my Naked Hugh Laurie Episode of House.
LL Cool J's on the season premiere, Tuesday 13th at 9:00pm on Fox.
I wanted to end this with something funny but I can't think of anything.
Friday, September 9, 2005
Thursday, September 1, 2005
review--MIKE NELSON SHOCKS THE BOX
I'm...dying...
Seriously, I'm totally not long for this world. I just met God...I have no reason to continue on. Also, I think I'm never going to wash my right hand, so I will probably get ebola or flesh eating disease or something, so even if you think I'm being way too dramatic with the declaring my death and all, you'll be sorry if I get something you get from feces or something...
I shook Mike Nelson's hand. And I talked to him. And I watched him be funny. And it was awesome. I also cried a little bit, but I did not pee my pants. So I can die happy.
Wait, Nelson? That 80s hair band? NO, ASS. MICHAEL J. NELSON. Trapped on the Satellite of Love. With the robots. Mystery Science Theater 3000? Just THE GREATEST TELEVISION SHOW EVER, EVEN MORE THAN THE X-FILES AND POSSIBLY HOUSE, BUT HOUSE HAS ONLY BEEN ON ONE SEASON SO IT COULD GET EVEN BETTER LIKE WHEN THEY HAVE THAT EPISODE WHERE HUGH LAURIE IS NAKED THROUGH THE WHOLE THING.
Close your eyes, Dear Reader, and let me take you back, back in time to 1993...Big K Kollege on Top of the Hill, where the men were men and the women wore patchouli. Well, the guys wore it too, but I digress. Friends of Kelmeister weren't exactly the most, shall we say, studious? We got our shit done, but it was a trial. Take for example, MST3K. Every weeknight, midnight. Comedy Central. All work stopped. No matter how many papers you had to do, how many exams you had the next day, everyone gathered around the TV as though it were the middle of a blizzard and Manos: The Hands of Fate was a roaring fire. And considering it was the Big K Kollege on Top of the Hill, that's pretty much the God's honest truth about the situation. Because winters sucked ass. K KOLLEGE IS A WALKING CAMPUS. Anyway, many an evening was spent laughing along with Mike and Tom and Crow, and sometimes Joel. And when it wasn't on TV, we'd recite snappy dialogue amongst ourselves like we were Hailing Mary. I even used this pithy exchange as my senior quote...
Joel: Okay, and what do you want for Christmas, Crow?
Crow: I want the power to decide who lives and who dies!
Joel: Oh, I don't know about that.
I still giggle when I read that. Hey, it was either that, or a quote from Kundera's The Farewell Party, or Faulkner's Light in August. I didn't want to seem too high brow.
Winter Break of 94, I stayed on campus. I had somehow managed to commandeer the dorm's TV/VCR combo, and I began what would become a dangerous trend: I would fall asleep watching tapes of MST3K.
So here it is, over ten years later. The Husband can attest to the fact that I've become somewhat of a chronic insomniac. It could be because of the massive amounts of Prozac I consume. It could be all the tea I drink. Most likely it's all the naps I take during the day...the heart of the matter is that I have a very difficult time getting to sleep at night. If I've got bad allergies I'll take a Benadryl and off to Sleepy Land I go. If it's been a few days and I've not slept at all to the point that my driving is impaired and I scrape the side of the car on a pole at the drive-up ATM, I'll take a Unisom. In every case, drugs or no drugs, I have to have MST3K playing in the background or I still can't get to sleep. I don't know if it's the flickering light from the TV, or the warm dulcet tones of Mike and the Bots bantering back and forth, but it always works like a charm. The Jack Frost episode is the best, followed by The Day the Earth Froze and the Magic Voyage of Sinbad. Also Time Chasers is really awesome. Pod People is my favorite episode to watch when not trying to go to sleep.
So anyway, this morning The Husband and I were getting ready to go to work when The Husband realized he'd forgotten to get his Important Paperwork. I waited in the car listening to NPR (Yes, I listen to NPR, fuck you.). And who is the hometown reporter interviewing but MICHAEL J. NELSON from MST3K!!! He's in town!! And performing live!!! And we missed the first performance but they've added a second show!!! I'M SO FUCKING GOING!!!
I called The Husband after I got to work to see if he'd want to go. Tickets are $30. THIRTY DOLLARS he says. Well, we could get the super special reserved seats for $300, and that includes a bottle of champagne and a picture with MIKE NELSON. We don't drink, The Husband reminds me. It's a picture with MIKE NELSON I stress, in case he missed it the first time. You didn't spend $300 to see Duran Duran even though you could, he reminds me. Yeah, I say, but we'll get our picture with MIKE NELSON. So, The Husband opts for the only true action available to him, which is to sigh and say "whatever." So I got three tickets, in case The Brother, who also Bows at the Altar of MIKE NELSON, would want to go. But he didn't so The Mother went instead.
So MIKE NELSON appeared with Shadowbox Cabaret at Easton. They performed a MIKE NELSON original, and at the end of the show he sang a song about me, called Sci Fi Girl, in which he compared my eyes to Agent Scully's which was CRAZY because X-files was like my all-time favorite show when I still had enough disposable income to waste on David Duchovny magazines. As you well know. MIKE NELSON also appeared in other sketches; one of which that he wasn't in was this awesome parody of the Maury Povich show, which is my Favorite Show of All Time, but only when they're doing the paternity test shows or the lie detector shows, because the shows where they have you guess if it's a man or a woman and the ones where the sexy secret crushes are revealed are really boring.
After the show we got a free poster to have autographed by MIKE NELSON, even though we didn't pay the $300 admission, which was awesome. The Mother had hers autographed for The Brother, and The Husband had his autographed for His Co-Worker Who Also Likes MST3K. I was all atwitter. I couldn't think of anything to say. I wanted to tell MIKE NELSON that I loved him, that The Best Friend and I had fantasized on dark stormy nights at K Kollege that we'd drive to Minnesota and apply to be interns with Best Brains, Inc., and they would love us and make us interns and then they'd realize how insane we were with the pop culture knowledge and we'd get writing jobs on the show and then eventually we'd be on TV and it would be the GREATEST JOB EVER. Because we'd be working with Crow T. Robot and Tom Servo and Gypsy, and they're like my imaginary best friends even though they're puppets. Or what about that time I had really incredibly bad food poisoning at school, and I was projectile vomiting, and I thought I was dying, but I didn't have the TV/VCR combo in my room so I couldn't watch my tapes, and in my delirium I called home and told my mom I wanted to watch TV because MST3K always made me feel better and she and my dad came to school to take me to the emergency but I totally never got to watch MST3K? Or how much The Husband hates having to put up with me falling asleep to the Sci Fi Channel years of the show, because when I taped them I would change the channels during the commercials, so it's like getting a view into my twisted psyche but at the same time it's really fucking annoying because you're watching a tape and you still have to suffer through me fucking with the remote?
But now. This is how the exchange went:
Me: Duh, uhh. Ummm, ah *Shoves poster at MIKE NELSON* Can I shake your hand? *Shakes hand (MIKE NELSON'S hand was sweaty with a firm grip)* Uh, I can't think of anything witty to say.
MIKE NELSON *impressed, points at me*: THAT was really good!!!
Me: Duh, uhh, ummm, ah. I wanted to tell you that I have chronic insomnia, and the only thing I can fall asleep to is MST3K.
MIKE NELSON: You're kidding?
Me: No, seriously, I have the 93 Turkey Day on tape, and I have to put it on a loop to play or else I can't get to sleep. Jack Frost is my favorite to fall asleep to.
MIKE NELSON: You've got to be kidding.
Me: No, really. Uhh, umm *shaking like a leaf, walks off*
So that was my meeting with MIKE NELSON. The Mother later said it looked like I'd made his night, and wondered why I just didn't take tea with him considering how long I was up there. The Husband teased me for tearing up. But it's been a long time since I've met anyone famous, ie someone on TV who makes shitloads more than me and whom people recognize on the street. I can't even remember the last famous person I met. Did I meet Nick Hornby? I don't think I did. I'm usually to scared to talk to them.
God, you know I'm totally like that Saturday Night Live skit with Chris Farley (God Bless Him) where he'd interview famous people and all the questions would be like, "Um, Mr. DeNiro, you remember in that movie TAXI DRIVER, where you were like, 'are you looking at me? are you looking at me?' That was awesome."
Although I did force my way back to meet Warren Zevon (God Bless Him) way back in the day. I was totally in love with this Asshole who was in love with Warren Zevon, so we went to see Zevon and Asshole was totally all over my friend the whole time at the show. And I promised the Asshole that I could get him back to meet Zevon and I did. And then I went to say hi to Zevon and I said, "Mr. Zevon, I've only been a fan of yours for like three months, but I think you're really awesome." And Zevon said, "Three months is a really long time."
And it is.
So it's now Midnight. I'm going to go wash my hand because unfortunately OCD trumps MIKE NELSON every time. I can hear The Husband snoring. So I'm off to bed.
No tapes for me tonight; I'll just replay the real thing in my head.
Seriously, I'm totally not long for this world. I just met God...I have no reason to continue on. Also, I think I'm never going to wash my right hand, so I will probably get ebola or flesh eating disease or something, so even if you think I'm being way too dramatic with the declaring my death and all, you'll be sorry if I get something you get from feces or something...
I shook Mike Nelson's hand. And I talked to him. And I watched him be funny. And it was awesome. I also cried a little bit, but I did not pee my pants. So I can die happy.
Wait, Nelson? That 80s hair band? NO, ASS. MICHAEL J. NELSON. Trapped on the Satellite of Love. With the robots. Mystery Science Theater 3000? Just THE GREATEST TELEVISION SHOW EVER, EVEN MORE THAN THE X-FILES AND POSSIBLY HOUSE, BUT HOUSE HAS ONLY BEEN ON ONE SEASON SO IT COULD GET EVEN BETTER LIKE WHEN THEY HAVE THAT EPISODE WHERE HUGH LAURIE IS NAKED THROUGH THE WHOLE THING.
Close your eyes, Dear Reader, and let me take you back, back in time to 1993...Big K Kollege on Top of the Hill, where the men were men and the women wore patchouli. Well, the guys wore it too, but I digress. Friends of Kelmeister weren't exactly the most, shall we say, studious? We got our shit done, but it was a trial. Take for example, MST3K. Every weeknight, midnight. Comedy Central. All work stopped. No matter how many papers you had to do, how many exams you had the next day, everyone gathered around the TV as though it were the middle of a blizzard and Manos: The Hands of Fate was a roaring fire. And considering it was the Big K Kollege on Top of the Hill, that's pretty much the God's honest truth about the situation. Because winters sucked ass. K KOLLEGE IS A WALKING CAMPUS. Anyway, many an evening was spent laughing along with Mike and Tom and Crow, and sometimes Joel. And when it wasn't on TV, we'd recite snappy dialogue amongst ourselves like we were Hailing Mary. I even used this pithy exchange as my senior quote...
Joel: Okay, and what do you want for Christmas, Crow?
Crow: I want the power to decide who lives and who dies!
Joel: Oh, I don't know about that.
I still giggle when I read that. Hey, it was either that, or a quote from Kundera's The Farewell Party, or Faulkner's Light in August. I didn't want to seem too high brow.
Winter Break of 94, I stayed on campus. I had somehow managed to commandeer the dorm's TV/VCR combo, and I began what would become a dangerous trend: I would fall asleep watching tapes of MST3K.
So here it is, over ten years later. The Husband can attest to the fact that I've become somewhat of a chronic insomniac. It could be because of the massive amounts of Prozac I consume. It could be all the tea I drink. Most likely it's all the naps I take during the day...the heart of the matter is that I have a very difficult time getting to sleep at night. If I've got bad allergies I'll take a Benadryl and off to Sleepy Land I go. If it's been a few days and I've not slept at all to the point that my driving is impaired and I scrape the side of the car on a pole at the drive-up ATM, I'll take a Unisom. In every case, drugs or no drugs, I have to have MST3K playing in the background or I still can't get to sleep. I don't know if it's the flickering light from the TV, or the warm dulcet tones of Mike and the Bots bantering back and forth, but it always works like a charm. The Jack Frost episode is the best, followed by The Day the Earth Froze and the Magic Voyage of Sinbad. Also Time Chasers is really awesome. Pod People is my favorite episode to watch when not trying to go to sleep.
So anyway, this morning The Husband and I were getting ready to go to work when The Husband realized he'd forgotten to get his Important Paperwork. I waited in the car listening to NPR (Yes, I listen to NPR, fuck you.). And who is the hometown reporter interviewing but MICHAEL J. NELSON from MST3K!!! He's in town!! And performing live!!! And we missed the first performance but they've added a second show!!! I'M SO FUCKING GOING!!!
I called The Husband after I got to work to see if he'd want to go. Tickets are $30. THIRTY DOLLARS he says. Well, we could get the super special reserved seats for $300, and that includes a bottle of champagne and a picture with MIKE NELSON. We don't drink, The Husband reminds me. It's a picture with MIKE NELSON I stress, in case he missed it the first time. You didn't spend $300 to see Duran Duran even though you could, he reminds me. Yeah, I say, but we'll get our picture with MIKE NELSON. So, The Husband opts for the only true action available to him, which is to sigh and say "whatever." So I got three tickets, in case The Brother, who also Bows at the Altar of MIKE NELSON, would want to go. But he didn't so The Mother went instead.
So MIKE NELSON appeared with Shadowbox Cabaret at Easton. They performed a MIKE NELSON original, and at the end of the show he sang a song about me, called Sci Fi Girl, in which he compared my eyes to Agent Scully's which was CRAZY because X-files was like my all-time favorite show when I still had enough disposable income to waste on David Duchovny magazines. As you well know. MIKE NELSON also appeared in other sketches; one of which that he wasn't in was this awesome parody of the Maury Povich show, which is my Favorite Show of All Time, but only when they're doing the paternity test shows or the lie detector shows, because the shows where they have you guess if it's a man or a woman and the ones where the sexy secret crushes are revealed are really boring.
After the show we got a free poster to have autographed by MIKE NELSON, even though we didn't pay the $300 admission, which was awesome. The Mother had hers autographed for The Brother, and The Husband had his autographed for His Co-Worker Who Also Likes MST3K. I was all atwitter. I couldn't think of anything to say. I wanted to tell MIKE NELSON that I loved him, that The Best Friend and I had fantasized on dark stormy nights at K Kollege that we'd drive to Minnesota and apply to be interns with Best Brains, Inc., and they would love us and make us interns and then they'd realize how insane we were with the pop culture knowledge and we'd get writing jobs on the show and then eventually we'd be on TV and it would be the GREATEST JOB EVER. Because we'd be working with Crow T. Robot and Tom Servo and Gypsy, and they're like my imaginary best friends even though they're puppets. Or what about that time I had really incredibly bad food poisoning at school, and I was projectile vomiting, and I thought I was dying, but I didn't have the TV/VCR combo in my room so I couldn't watch my tapes, and in my delirium I called home and told my mom I wanted to watch TV because MST3K always made me feel better and she and my dad came to school to take me to the emergency but I totally never got to watch MST3K? Or how much The Husband hates having to put up with me falling asleep to the Sci Fi Channel years of the show, because when I taped them I would change the channels during the commercials, so it's like getting a view into my twisted psyche but at the same time it's really fucking annoying because you're watching a tape and you still have to suffer through me fucking with the remote?
But now. This is how the exchange went:
Me: Duh, uhh. Ummm, ah *Shoves poster at MIKE NELSON* Can I shake your hand? *Shakes hand (MIKE NELSON'S hand was sweaty with a firm grip)* Uh, I can't think of anything witty to say.
MIKE NELSON *impressed, points at me*: THAT was really good!!!
Me: Duh, uhh, ummm, ah. I wanted to tell you that I have chronic insomnia, and the only thing I can fall asleep to is MST3K.
MIKE NELSON: You're kidding?
Me: No, seriously, I have the 93 Turkey Day on tape, and I have to put it on a loop to play or else I can't get to sleep. Jack Frost is my favorite to fall asleep to.
MIKE NELSON: You've got to be kidding.
Me: No, really. Uhh, umm *shaking like a leaf, walks off*
So that was my meeting with MIKE NELSON. The Mother later said it looked like I'd made his night, and wondered why I just didn't take tea with him considering how long I was up there. The Husband teased me for tearing up. But it's been a long time since I've met anyone famous, ie someone on TV who makes shitloads more than me and whom people recognize on the street. I can't even remember the last famous person I met. Did I meet Nick Hornby? I don't think I did. I'm usually to scared to talk to them.
God, you know I'm totally like that Saturday Night Live skit with Chris Farley (God Bless Him) where he'd interview famous people and all the questions would be like, "Um, Mr. DeNiro, you remember in that movie TAXI DRIVER, where you were like, 'are you looking at me? are you looking at me?' That was awesome."
Although I did force my way back to meet Warren Zevon (God Bless Him) way back in the day. I was totally in love with this Asshole who was in love with Warren Zevon, so we went to see Zevon and Asshole was totally all over my friend the whole time at the show. And I promised the Asshole that I could get him back to meet Zevon and I did. And then I went to say hi to Zevon and I said, "Mr. Zevon, I've only been a fan of yours for like three months, but I think you're really awesome." And Zevon said, "Three months is a really long time."
And it is.
So it's now Midnight. I'm going to go wash my hand because unfortunately OCD trumps MIKE NELSON every time. I can hear The Husband snoring. So I'm off to bed.
No tapes for me tonight; I'll just replay the real thing in my head.
Friday, August 26, 2005
review--JOLLY PIRATE: MASSACRE AT CUTTER'S COVE
SPOILERS!!!
Okay, look. It's time to be serious. This isn't a laughing matter.
I don't know if this experiment in terror The Husband and I are engaged in is working out. I mean, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that I've lost so much time...we may need to rethink this. It seemed like so much fun at first, but instead it's led to pain and disappointment, anger and sadness, frustration and lost dollars. People have gotten hurt. We've hurt each other, again and again...this wasn't what I signed on for. I knew going in that it would be tough, that we'd have to work together to get through--to be happy. But I can't do it. I can't pretend anymore. I just...can't. I didn't mean for this to happen, for things to turn out the way they have. But at the same time I can't take any of it back, so I can't really say I'm sorry. I don't have any regrets, but I can't keep doing this.
JOLLY PIRATE: MASSACRE AT CUTTER'S COVE was the final straw. No more shitty movies on purpose.
See, part of the inspiration for this was competition with The Brother. He and The Brother's Best Friend are always bragging about the crap they watch. NO FAIR, I say, I WANT TO WATCH SHIT, TOO, so The Husband and I haul ass to Blockbusters and actively search it out. This used to lead to a few diamonds in the rough, a few gems that would provide hours of enjoyment at a later time, as you recounted both the movie and the shitty viewing experience to friends, reliving that terrible time. But I don't know what's happened: either the movies have gotten shittier, or we've lost our touch when it comes to picking them out. Case in point, tonight's winner: JOLLY PIRATE: MASSACRE AT CUTTER'S COVE.
Problem #1 is that new technology means the golden days of crappy shitty video filmed in someone's backyard are GONE...now that everyone has access to a digital camera, every piece of shit film LOOKS like it was crapped from Spielberg's ass. There was a certain, oh, jah nah say quaw about them, an innocence and ignorance that was charming; we all wanted to be filmmakers, and boy did we try. But it still looked like shit, but hey, at least they tried. Now, because it looks like a Hollywood movie, your brain is tricked into thinking it IS a Hollywood movie, so when it sucks ass it sucks all the harder. This also applies to actual Hollywood films being released today, only they've wasted way more money making that shit happen.
Problem #2 is that the dudes in charge of the script had never seen an episode of CSI, CSI:NEW YORK, CSI: MIAMI, LAW & ORDER ad nauseum, et cetera. The coroner was a boob. Seriously, he comes into a crime scene. The cop asks for approximate time of death. The coroner looks at the body sans head and says, "It's hard to say. The body lost all its blood. I don't know how long that takes." The Husband, who cares not a whit about such things, knew enough to scream at the TV "basal body temperature." Thank God the coroner was there at the end of the film to see a gunshot victim and be able to surmise, "It may be fatal."
Problem #3 was that this movie was just simply ass.
I should probably tell you what the film's about, in case you're curious. The movie opens with teens having a cookout/sex on a beach. Lameass Jock and Whore go off to have sex, but they are not horny enough to not stop and check out the pirate chest that's washed up on the beach. Opening the chest unleashes the undead pirate Jolly Roger, who proceeds to go on a murderous rampage, chopping off the heads of the ancestors of his crew, who years ago mutinied against him and killed him and stole his treasure. Our intrepid heroes are teen couple Goody-Goody Schoolgirl and Hoodlum With A Past. He's afraid the cops are going to pin these murders on him, because he "had a run-in with the law" many years ago, apparently for robbing a 7-11 while dressed as a pirate. Strippers are killed, a guy is beaten to death with his own severed arm, the mayor is killed even though she "puts up a fight" which is French for "runs right into the sword," and everyone lives Happily Ever After, except that they don't because the pirate totally comes back from the dead a second time to kill all the losers who are left. THE END.
We should have known we were in trouble when the movie began with Goody-Goody Schoolgirl and Hoodlum With A Past having a fight because she had their whole lives planned out even though they'd only been dating two months, because he was going to go with her to State but he hates school and wants to travel for a few months and what, do you want to see other people? Seriously, no, because I love you but I hate math, so here's my class ring that my mom bought me, I never wear it because I hate it and I don't like to wear jewelry because it messes up my hoodlum reputation to wear rings, but I want you to have it as a token of my love. God, you just don't get it, do you?
I get it, Goody-Goody Schoolgirl, oh how I do. It all became clear to me when you and Hoody broke out of jail to head to the high school so you could use the computers to Google "homicidal dead pirate." I got it when the secretary of the dude getting his head lopped off into a fish tank was typing up a memo using only the function keys on her keyboard. I got it when your friend, right before he died, cooked hot dogs over the campfire until they were burnt, and he tried to convince you they were still good to eat, but I can see why you weren't fooled: he totally pretended to take a bite out of that hot dog.
So I think this signals the end of The Husband's and my quest to find the shittiest movies ever and watch them. It's just too painful and time-consuming and fruitless. I've only shared this with you out of frustration; I've spared you the recaps of KOBOLOS and THE INCUBUS starring John Cassavetes and some other stuff that was so bad I can't remember it off the top of my head. Oh, God was THE INCUBUS weird. My whole life I'd wanted to see it, and I finally watch it and it's all weird violent rape and people talking about the number of sperm and the main character's got this weird incestuous vibe with his teenaged daughter. Maybe I will tell you about it some time, because it was that fucked up.
But that's that. From now on, I think we will try our damnedest to only watch GOOD MOVIES. No more of this shit on purpose. LIfe's too short. So with that, expect reviews of such films as...I can't think of anything off the top of my head. But I really mean it, better movies...yeah.
Right after we finish watching ASYLUM OF THE DAMNED.
Hey, we paid for it already...we might as well go ahead and watch it.
Okay, look. It's time to be serious. This isn't a laughing matter.
I don't know if this experiment in terror The Husband and I are engaged in is working out. I mean, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that I've lost so much time...we may need to rethink this. It seemed like so much fun at first, but instead it's led to pain and disappointment, anger and sadness, frustration and lost dollars. People have gotten hurt. We've hurt each other, again and again...this wasn't what I signed on for. I knew going in that it would be tough, that we'd have to work together to get through--to be happy. But I can't do it. I can't pretend anymore. I just...can't. I didn't mean for this to happen, for things to turn out the way they have. But at the same time I can't take any of it back, so I can't really say I'm sorry. I don't have any regrets, but I can't keep doing this.
JOLLY PIRATE: MASSACRE AT CUTTER'S COVE was the final straw. No more shitty movies on purpose.
See, part of the inspiration for this was competition with The Brother. He and The Brother's Best Friend are always bragging about the crap they watch. NO FAIR, I say, I WANT TO WATCH SHIT, TOO, so The Husband and I haul ass to Blockbusters and actively search it out. This used to lead to a few diamonds in the rough, a few gems that would provide hours of enjoyment at a later time, as you recounted both the movie and the shitty viewing experience to friends, reliving that terrible time. But I don't know what's happened: either the movies have gotten shittier, or we've lost our touch when it comes to picking them out. Case in point, tonight's winner: JOLLY PIRATE: MASSACRE AT CUTTER'S COVE.
Problem #1 is that new technology means the golden days of crappy shitty video filmed in someone's backyard are GONE...now that everyone has access to a digital camera, every piece of shit film LOOKS like it was crapped from Spielberg's ass. There was a certain, oh, jah nah say quaw about them, an innocence and ignorance that was charming; we all wanted to be filmmakers, and boy did we try. But it still looked like shit, but hey, at least they tried. Now, because it looks like a Hollywood movie, your brain is tricked into thinking it IS a Hollywood movie, so when it sucks ass it sucks all the harder. This also applies to actual Hollywood films being released today, only they've wasted way more money making that shit happen.
Problem #2 is that the dudes in charge of the script had never seen an episode of CSI, CSI:NEW YORK, CSI: MIAMI, LAW & ORDER ad nauseum, et cetera. The coroner was a boob. Seriously, he comes into a crime scene. The cop asks for approximate time of death. The coroner looks at the body sans head and says, "It's hard to say. The body lost all its blood. I don't know how long that takes." The Husband, who cares not a whit about such things, knew enough to scream at the TV "basal body temperature." Thank God the coroner was there at the end of the film to see a gunshot victim and be able to surmise, "It may be fatal."
Problem #3 was that this movie was just simply ass.
I should probably tell you what the film's about, in case you're curious. The movie opens with teens having a cookout/sex on a beach. Lameass Jock and Whore go off to have sex, but they are not horny enough to not stop and check out the pirate chest that's washed up on the beach. Opening the chest unleashes the undead pirate Jolly Roger, who proceeds to go on a murderous rampage, chopping off the heads of the ancestors of his crew, who years ago mutinied against him and killed him and stole his treasure. Our intrepid heroes are teen couple Goody-Goody Schoolgirl and Hoodlum With A Past. He's afraid the cops are going to pin these murders on him, because he "had a run-in with the law" many years ago, apparently for robbing a 7-11 while dressed as a pirate. Strippers are killed, a guy is beaten to death with his own severed arm, the mayor is killed even though she "puts up a fight" which is French for "runs right into the sword," and everyone lives Happily Ever After, except that they don't because the pirate totally comes back from the dead a second time to kill all the losers who are left. THE END.
We should have known we were in trouble when the movie began with Goody-Goody Schoolgirl and Hoodlum With A Past having a fight because she had their whole lives planned out even though they'd only been dating two months, because he was going to go with her to State but he hates school and wants to travel for a few months and what, do you want to see other people? Seriously, no, because I love you but I hate math, so here's my class ring that my mom bought me, I never wear it because I hate it and I don't like to wear jewelry because it messes up my hoodlum reputation to wear rings, but I want you to have it as a token of my love. God, you just don't get it, do you?
I get it, Goody-Goody Schoolgirl, oh how I do. It all became clear to me when you and Hoody broke out of jail to head to the high school so you could use the computers to Google "homicidal dead pirate." I got it when the secretary of the dude getting his head lopped off into a fish tank was typing up a memo using only the function keys on her keyboard. I got it when your friend, right before he died, cooked hot dogs over the campfire until they were burnt, and he tried to convince you they were still good to eat, but I can see why you weren't fooled: he totally pretended to take a bite out of that hot dog.
So I think this signals the end of The Husband's and my quest to find the shittiest movies ever and watch them. It's just too painful and time-consuming and fruitless. I've only shared this with you out of frustration; I've spared you the recaps of KOBOLOS and THE INCUBUS starring John Cassavetes and some other stuff that was so bad I can't remember it off the top of my head. Oh, God was THE INCUBUS weird. My whole life I'd wanted to see it, and I finally watch it and it's all weird violent rape and people talking about the number of sperm and the main character's got this weird incestuous vibe with his teenaged daughter. Maybe I will tell you about it some time, because it was that fucked up.
But that's that. From now on, I think we will try our damnedest to only watch GOOD MOVIES. No more of this shit on purpose. LIfe's too short. So with that, expect reviews of such films as...I can't think of anything off the top of my head. But I really mean it, better movies...yeah.
Right after we finish watching ASYLUM OF THE DAMNED.
Hey, we paid for it already...we might as well go ahead and watch it.
review--The New Look Of My Blog
So what do you think? I love it. I think it's much more polished and professional looking.
But you'll have to thank the people at Movable Type and my host, Gigamatt, for that, because I'm an incompetent boob when it comes to fucking with blog templates. Fucking up? That's another story.
So Movable Type released a new release, and fortunately for me I guess the default is the brand spankin' new blue thing you see here. It is really cool. Of course, I just spent a half hour trying to find something even more spectacular in another color, but couldn't figure it out so I'm sticking with this. I did take a semester of HTML at school, but the extent of my retained knowledge is the kick ass picture of the angry puppy in the corner.
And if it looks familiar, yes, I do occasionally post comments to the House MD fan fiction forums on Live Journal.
I am teh lame.
So I hope you like the new layout, and that it's easier for you to read, and that its beauty and simplicity mezmerize you into thinking I'm far more witty than I actually am. That would be kick ass.
Think of the marketing: TURN EVEN YOUR MOST PATHETIC DRABBLE INTO RUMIATIONS ON PAR WITH WILDE AND PARKER! UPGRADE TO MOVABLE TYPE 3.2 NOW!
Leave a comment about when I can expect my spokesman checks.
But you'll have to thank the people at Movable Type and my host, Gigamatt, for that, because I'm an incompetent boob when it comes to fucking with blog templates. Fucking up? That's another story.
So Movable Type released a new release, and fortunately for me I guess the default is the brand spankin' new blue thing you see here. It is really cool. Of course, I just spent a half hour trying to find something even more spectacular in another color, but couldn't figure it out so I'm sticking with this. I did take a semester of HTML at school, but the extent of my retained knowledge is the kick ass picture of the angry puppy in the corner.
And if it looks familiar, yes, I do occasionally post comments to the House MD fan fiction forums on Live Journal.
I am teh lame.
So I hope you like the new layout, and that it's easier for you to read, and that its beauty and simplicity mezmerize you into thinking I'm far more witty than I actually am. That would be kick ass.
Think of the marketing: TURN EVEN YOUR MOST PATHETIC DRABBLE INTO RUMIATIONS ON PAR WITH WILDE AND PARKER! UPGRADE TO MOVABLE TYPE 3.2 NOW!
Leave a comment about when I can expect my spokesman checks.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
review--HAMMERFALL
So, it's true, dearest kiddies...I am a virgin no more. I have "popped my cherry."
I have attended my first power metal show.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Kelmeister, you're saying to yourself, you like Duran Duran. Power Metal? What the fuck's up with that? Well, The Brother is into crazy metal shit where they make these albums where all the songs are based on Lord of the Rings and the people dress up like they're in a Renaissance festival and it's all crazy metal shit. And I was driving past The College Concert Venue and saw that Hammerfall was coming and I thought to myself, Hey, that's one of those crazy metal bands The Brother likes. So I threw him an email and sure enough, he was psyched. And he asked if I wanted to come. And I thought, Hey, The Brother and I rarely do anything together that doesn't envolve movies or British television shows. So, I went.
Let me begin by saying that I really wanted to go because The College Concert Venue was renovated earlier in the year and I hadn't been yet to see what they did. The Husband remarked that he hoped it no longer smelled like pee. Ah, will he be disappointed! Not only did it smell like pee, but there was no soap in the bathroom (the men's room was apparently missing soap AND toilet paper) and when I went a second time to pee, three of the five toilets were filled with poop. It was crazy disgusting.
What I don't understand: How does something like that happen? Do you poop, and then you're afraid you pooped too much and you might clog the toilet so you leave it for the next person to flush so it backs up on them? Were you so drunk you forgot to flush, because no matter how drunk I've been, I always managed to take a shower and remove and clean my contacts when I got home, so how you'd forget something as automatic as flushing.... Or are you just really, really nasty? I wish someone would explain this to me. Also, you think it's usually the men who do shit like that (no pun intended) but actually I think women are fifty million times dirtier than men.
So anyway, back to the show. Power metal is really weird. I like metal, but I like shitty metal. At least this is what people tell me. I like stuff like Sabbath and AC/DC. I also like Powerman 5000 and System of a Down. I heart rap metal most. Because there's nothing like driving down the street in your Hyundai, a white woman screaming SHIT NIGGA FUCKIN' BITCH PUSSY at the top of your lungs. It's very liberating and life affirming.
Power metal isn't really my thing. To me, it's always been crazy operatic orchestrations and effeminate screaming. And it's totally like that in real life, too. But there's something really headbangingly awesome about it.
Here's the thing: I think it sucks on record, but live it's tons of fun.
Into Oblivion was the first band out, and they were pretty cool. Their music flirted close to the edge of sounding like Stabbing Westward in places, and I approved.
Edguy was the next one up. The lead singer made a joke about the opening of one of their songs sounding like Europe's Final Countdown, but the joke was on them: All of their stuff sounded like Europe's Final Countdown. The BEST was that half the crowd left after they were over. WTF? But they were fun, in a totally cheesy Europe's Final Countdown kind of way.
Note to self: make sure I have Europe's Final Countdown in my iTunes shopping cart.
Finally, the headliners, Hammerfall. The lead singer was a hottie. Willem Defoe played bass. They were cheesy, but they revelled in their cheese, the lead singer saying at one point that life reminded him of 1985, only now they were old enough to go to titty bars. And I think that was the main thing of the evening: These guys were just a little more hardcore than Jon Bon Jovi. Seriously, Bon Jovi, Extreme, Warrant...all rolled into one. With faster guitar licks.
I had a lot of fun. Some random guy high-fived me at the end of the evening, in his unadulterated joy. And there was lots of crazy air guitar happening. Not enough SHIT NIGGA FUCKIN' BITCH PUSSY for my taste. But then I probably would have gotten my ass kicked or something. Metal and no cursing. WTF? Throwing around the devil horns and no cursing?
I have attended my first power metal show.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Kelmeister, you're saying to yourself, you like Duran Duran. Power Metal? What the fuck's up with that? Well, The Brother is into crazy metal shit where they make these albums where all the songs are based on Lord of the Rings and the people dress up like they're in a Renaissance festival and it's all crazy metal shit. And I was driving past The College Concert Venue and saw that Hammerfall was coming and I thought to myself, Hey, that's one of those crazy metal bands The Brother likes. So I threw him an email and sure enough, he was psyched. And he asked if I wanted to come. And I thought, Hey, The Brother and I rarely do anything together that doesn't envolve movies or British television shows. So, I went.
Let me begin by saying that I really wanted to go because The College Concert Venue was renovated earlier in the year and I hadn't been yet to see what they did. The Husband remarked that he hoped it no longer smelled like pee. Ah, will he be disappointed! Not only did it smell like pee, but there was no soap in the bathroom (the men's room was apparently missing soap AND toilet paper) and when I went a second time to pee, three of the five toilets were filled with poop. It was crazy disgusting.
What I don't understand: How does something like that happen? Do you poop, and then you're afraid you pooped too much and you might clog the toilet so you leave it for the next person to flush so it backs up on them? Were you so drunk you forgot to flush, because no matter how drunk I've been, I always managed to take a shower and remove and clean my contacts when I got home, so how you'd forget something as automatic as flushing.... Or are you just really, really nasty? I wish someone would explain this to me. Also, you think it's usually the men who do shit like that (no pun intended) but actually I think women are fifty million times dirtier than men.
So anyway, back to the show. Power metal is really weird. I like metal, but I like shitty metal. At least this is what people tell me. I like stuff like Sabbath and AC/DC. I also like Powerman 5000 and System of a Down. I heart rap metal most. Because there's nothing like driving down the street in your Hyundai, a white woman screaming SHIT NIGGA FUCKIN' BITCH PUSSY at the top of your lungs. It's very liberating and life affirming.
Power metal isn't really my thing. To me, it's always been crazy operatic orchestrations and effeminate screaming. And it's totally like that in real life, too. But there's something really headbangingly awesome about it.
Here's the thing: I think it sucks on record, but live it's tons of fun.
Into Oblivion was the first band out, and they were pretty cool. Their music flirted close to the edge of sounding like Stabbing Westward in places, and I approved.
Edguy was the next one up. The lead singer made a joke about the opening of one of their songs sounding like Europe's Final Countdown, but the joke was on them: All of their stuff sounded like Europe's Final Countdown. The BEST was that half the crowd left after they were over. WTF? But they were fun, in a totally cheesy Europe's Final Countdown kind of way.
Note to self: make sure I have Europe's Final Countdown in my iTunes shopping cart.
Finally, the headliners, Hammerfall. The lead singer was a hottie. Willem Defoe played bass. They were cheesy, but they revelled in their cheese, the lead singer saying at one point that life reminded him of 1985, only now they were old enough to go to titty bars. And I think that was the main thing of the evening: These guys were just a little more hardcore than Jon Bon Jovi. Seriously, Bon Jovi, Extreme, Warrant...all rolled into one. With faster guitar licks.
I had a lot of fun. Some random guy high-fived me at the end of the evening, in his unadulterated joy. And there was lots of crazy air guitar happening. Not enough SHIT NIGGA FUCKIN' BITCH PUSSY for my taste. But then I probably would have gotten my ass kicked or something. Metal and no cursing. WTF? Throwing around the devil horns and no cursing?
Tuesday, August 2, 2005
interlude--What is this book?
Just a quickie...
When I was little, my mom bought me the most awesomest gift ever, and for some bizarre reason I was just thinking about it, and tried to Google it to see if anyone's written about it, but I can't find anything about. So here I am.
Here's what it was:
My mom got me a box that had a book and small teddy bear in it. The joke was that the book was a manual on caring for your bear...but when you flipped it over, it was a manual for the bear on how to care for their human.
Here's what made this so special: you know how previously I've mentioned how impressionable I am? How gullible I am? How freaked out I get about anything remotely paranormal and/or satanic? Well, in the middle of the book, there was a warning for the human/bear NOT TO READ THE OTHER'S BOOK!!! And then there were all these illustrations of the horrible things that would happen to you if did. Like your bear would come to life and strangle you kind of things. So for the longest time I was completely freaked out that my bear was going to kill me. BUT I WANTED TO READ THE OTHER PART OF THE BOOK SO BAD!!!!
And then one day I did, and as you can see the bear did not kill me. But it was like porn: I'd read it all illicitly, totally freaking out about it the whole time. I would stare for hours at the drawings of women in Victorian dresses being mauled by teddy bears.
I just had the weirdest sense of deja vu, that I've blogged about this before. Weird.
So in conclusion, this is probably partly the reason why I am now so fucked up.
But if you know what I'm talking about, please commiserate with me. I really want to find drawings of women in Victorian dresses being mauled by teddy bears in a Google image search.
When I was little, my mom bought me the most awesomest gift ever, and for some bizarre reason I was just thinking about it, and tried to Google it to see if anyone's written about it, but I can't find anything about. So here I am.
Here's what it was:
My mom got me a box that had a book and small teddy bear in it. The joke was that the book was a manual on caring for your bear...but when you flipped it over, it was a manual for the bear on how to care for their human.
Here's what made this so special: you know how previously I've mentioned how impressionable I am? How gullible I am? How freaked out I get about anything remotely paranormal and/or satanic? Well, in the middle of the book, there was a warning for the human/bear NOT TO READ THE OTHER'S BOOK!!! And then there were all these illustrations of the horrible things that would happen to you if did. Like your bear would come to life and strangle you kind of things. So for the longest time I was completely freaked out that my bear was going to kill me. BUT I WANTED TO READ THE OTHER PART OF THE BOOK SO BAD!!!!
And then one day I did, and as you can see the bear did not kill me. But it was like porn: I'd read it all illicitly, totally freaking out about it the whole time. I would stare for hours at the drawings of women in Victorian dresses being mauled by teddy bears.
I just had the weirdest sense of deja vu, that I've blogged about this before. Weird.
So in conclusion, this is probably partly the reason why I am now so fucked up.
But if you know what I'm talking about, please commiserate with me. I really want to find drawings of women in Victorian dresses being mauled by teddy bears in a Google image search.
Friday, July 15, 2005
review--FANTASTIC FOUR
SPOILERS!!!
I wasn't going to review FANTASTIC FOUR, mainly because I couldn't get it up enough to care. But I've got some time to kill, so what the hell.
Here's my review: FANTASTIC FOUR doesn't suck all that much.
In filmdom, there's this certain kind of movie that exists with a certain level of quality. You know what I'm talking about...they perfected it in the 80s and 90s. Should have gone straight to video but they'd sunk a lot of money into it, and it stars people just slightly above B-list so it's probably written into someone's contract that it had to be released in theaters or we'll sue....Google the upcoming BLOODRAYNE movie. I dare you. This is the type of movie I'm talking about. It's an adaptation of a video game STARRING THE CHICK FROM TERMINATOR 3 AND BEN KINGSLEY. How fucked up is that? So it's supposed to come out in theaters but I have a sneaking suspicion it'll go right to Blockbuster. Although Ben Kingsley AND F. Murray Abraham were in SLIP STREAM with Mark Hamill, so my logic may be flawed.
But if you were to undergo a bout of insomnia like I've been recently experiencing, you'd see these movies on late late TV. Remember REMO WILLIAMS? LAKE PLACID? This is what I'm talking about.
FANTASTIC FOUR feels like a movie that were it on at 4:30 in the morning, I wouldn't turn it off, but I would flip around to see if Elimidate was on. It's not bad, it's just not all that awe-inspiring. Like, I think it could have been, but I don't know what I would have done to make it better. It's weird. It was good...but I don't know.
So Reed Richards is a scientist but he's incompetent at love and making money. So he comes up with a scheme to study dust clouds in space, but he approaches is evil arch-rival Victor von Doom for funding. So Victor gives him the money and lords over Reed that Victor had to give him money, oh and by the way Victor's dating Reed's ex-girlfriend Susan Storm. Susan's asshole Xtreme sportman brother Johnny hates Reed's right hand man Ben...it's one big happy dysfunctional family *hint hint wink wink*. Think they'll all end up happily ever after when they're superheroes?
So there's people turning into metal and going all invisible and catching on fire, and Ben's finacee Marita Covarrubias from the X-Files dumps him because he looks like a giant orange circus peanut. And there's fighting and explosions and SELF-SACRIFICE and LOVING YOUR FELLOW MAN and FIGHTING FOR WHAT'S RIGHT and YAY AMERICA!!! And then Ben hooks up with a blind chick who's black because IT'S WHAT'S ON THE INSIDE THAT COUNTS AND THAT WORKS BOTH WAYS, MISTER and Johnny's still an ass but because he's hot and is DRINKING AND PARTYING RESPONSIBLY he's now Ben's Best Friend Forever. And Susan dumps Victor because he's an ass but instead of having being hot to fall back on he's turning into a giant walking lightening rod and HE ONLY THINKS OF HIMSELF. So she hooks up with Reed because that's what the script tells her because I can't think of any other reason why anyone would pick him over Johnny except for the fact that they're brother and sister and that's illegal. THE END.
So it did have some funny moments, and the scenes where they first use their powers to save a truck full of firefighters is cool, but it's just...empty? You know how sometimes you watch movies--like take THE INCREDIBLES for example, which is basically about the same set of characters trying to work out a familial structure--and by the end of the movie you feel like you're going to start applauding because you love everyone to death and you're so happy that they won in the end and they're all better people for the experience but the growth was slow and made sense and wasn't forced? FANTASTIC FOUR's not like that. It was serviceable, but not Rah-Rah. I don't know. It was what it was, and didn't try any harder than that, I guess is what I'm saying, so on those merits it was enjoyable. It should have been BUCKAROO BONSAI and ended up being DELTA FORCE.
And Chris Evans's hip bones were nowhere near as hot as Ryan Reynolds's.
Next: Hell if I know. I may review MINDHUNTERS, which I just saw at the dollar theater with the husband and ended up being KICK ASS. WHAT A SURPRISE FOR ONCE!!! Awesome, awesome movie.
I'm going to pee.
I wasn't going to review FANTASTIC FOUR, mainly because I couldn't get it up enough to care. But I've got some time to kill, so what the hell.
Here's my review: FANTASTIC FOUR doesn't suck all that much.
In filmdom, there's this certain kind of movie that exists with a certain level of quality. You know what I'm talking about...they perfected it in the 80s and 90s. Should have gone straight to video but they'd sunk a lot of money into it, and it stars people just slightly above B-list so it's probably written into someone's contract that it had to be released in theaters or we'll sue....Google the upcoming BLOODRAYNE movie. I dare you. This is the type of movie I'm talking about. It's an adaptation of a video game STARRING THE CHICK FROM TERMINATOR 3 AND BEN KINGSLEY. How fucked up is that? So it's supposed to come out in theaters but I have a sneaking suspicion it'll go right to Blockbuster. Although Ben Kingsley AND F. Murray Abraham were in SLIP STREAM with Mark Hamill, so my logic may be flawed.
But if you were to undergo a bout of insomnia like I've been recently experiencing, you'd see these movies on late late TV. Remember REMO WILLIAMS? LAKE PLACID? This is what I'm talking about.
FANTASTIC FOUR feels like a movie that were it on at 4:30 in the morning, I wouldn't turn it off, but I would flip around to see if Elimidate was on. It's not bad, it's just not all that awe-inspiring. Like, I think it could have been, but I don't know what I would have done to make it better. It's weird. It was good...but I don't know.
So Reed Richards is a scientist but he's incompetent at love and making money. So he comes up with a scheme to study dust clouds in space, but he approaches is evil arch-rival Victor von Doom for funding. So Victor gives him the money and lords over Reed that Victor had to give him money, oh and by the way Victor's dating Reed's ex-girlfriend Susan Storm. Susan's asshole Xtreme sportman brother Johnny hates Reed's right hand man Ben...it's one big happy dysfunctional family *hint hint wink wink*. Think they'll all end up happily ever after when they're superheroes?
So there's people turning into metal and going all invisible and catching on fire, and Ben's finacee Marita Covarrubias from the X-Files dumps him because he looks like a giant orange circus peanut. And there's fighting and explosions and SELF-SACRIFICE and LOVING YOUR FELLOW MAN and FIGHTING FOR WHAT'S RIGHT and YAY AMERICA!!! And then Ben hooks up with a blind chick who's black because IT'S WHAT'S ON THE INSIDE THAT COUNTS AND THAT WORKS BOTH WAYS, MISTER and Johnny's still an ass but because he's hot and is DRINKING AND PARTYING RESPONSIBLY he's now Ben's Best Friend Forever. And Susan dumps Victor because he's an ass but instead of having being hot to fall back on he's turning into a giant walking lightening rod and HE ONLY THINKS OF HIMSELF. So she hooks up with Reed because that's what the script tells her because I can't think of any other reason why anyone would pick him over Johnny except for the fact that they're brother and sister and that's illegal. THE END.
So it did have some funny moments, and the scenes where they first use their powers to save a truck full of firefighters is cool, but it's just...empty? You know how sometimes you watch movies--like take THE INCREDIBLES for example, which is basically about the same set of characters trying to work out a familial structure--and by the end of the movie you feel like you're going to start applauding because you love everyone to death and you're so happy that they won in the end and they're all better people for the experience but the growth was slow and made sense and wasn't forced? FANTASTIC FOUR's not like that. It was serviceable, but not Rah-Rah. I don't know. It was what it was, and didn't try any harder than that, I guess is what I'm saying, so on those merits it was enjoyable. It should have been BUCKAROO BONSAI and ended up being DELTA FORCE.
And Chris Evans's hip bones were nowhere near as hot as Ryan Reynolds's.
Next: Hell if I know. I may review MINDHUNTERS, which I just saw at the dollar theater with the husband and ended up being KICK ASS. WHAT A SURPRISE FOR ONCE!!! Awesome, awesome movie.
I'm going to pee.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
review--LAND OF THE DEAD
SPOILERS!!!
So right now it's 10:07pm and I was lucky enough to catch the tail-end of the "Damned If You Do" episode of HOUSE, which I'd never seen. Oh, yeah, and I went with The Brother to a sneak preview of Romero's LAND OF THE DEAD. Hugh Laurie in a turtleneck...yum.
But that's not why you're reading...you want dead people and guts. Okay, here it goes...
I think I may have told you a while back that I used to have this THING about GORE. I had a small problem with it, being that I couldn't watch it. But now that I'm in my thirties my stomach and I have gotten over it and now I can watch just about anything as long as it's still not ALIEN. Because I will NEVER EVER EVER watch ALIEN EVER. Even though I've now seen lots of pictures of John Hurt with a chestburster bursting out of his chest, and have not lost my senses and facilities, I'm still not going to watch it.
So needless to say I grew up without the benefit of a lot of the greatest horror movies of all time. It wasn't until college that I started to catch up, and even then it was kind of hit and miss. Like John Carpenter's PRINCE OF DARKNESS. I literally FLED halfway through that movie. I spent the remaining time in the hall outside my dorm room crying because I was so scared. Forced The Husband to watch it not too long ago; "Seriously, it's the scariest movie you will ever see!" I think I told him. That ended up being a bit of an exaggeration. THE EXORCIST? Also made me cry. I had a big paper to write that night, too. Satan apparently stays away if you've got a paper due. EVIL DEAD? Made me cry. And chain smoke for a half hour.
I knew I'd reached a turning point when a friend and I went to an all night horror marathon and I laughed my way through LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, which both my friend and my aunt said was the most disturbing film they'd ever seen. And my aunt is something of a horror aficionado so I kind of believed her. But it was still funny.
Does being completely desensitized make you a bad person?
So just this last year, at the urging of The Brother, I finally caught up on my Romero. DAWN OF THE DEAD, the original one, is all sorts of KICK ASS. It takes place in a mall, where four people run to hide from a horde of zombies. It reminded me of the 80s masterpiece NIGHT OF THE COMET. Valley girls, upon discovering they are the last people on earth, head for the mall to try stuff on. In both films, there's a novelty about having the place all to yourself that eventually wears off when you realize the finality of your predicament. DAWN OF THE DEAD was supposed to be social commentary about consumerism: when the zombies finally invade the mall, they lumber around and window shop, just like they did in life.
DAY OF THE DEAD, the next in the series, was supposed to reflect the detactment of the 80s. Everyone out for themselves. Not a care in the world for anyone else. Military versus Science. The Brother explained that the final film wasn't what Romero wanted, that he ran out of time and money. It's not that great of a film, although it has its moments.
So finally comes LAND OF THE DEAD, which exists in a limbo of NOW and SOME INDETERMINANT TIME SINCE THE LAST MOVIE, where zombies and humans have sort of reached a harmonic balance. Zombies still eat people, and people still shoot zombies in the head, but it doesn't happen with much frequency. Humanity has holed itself up in what are essentially "gated communities:" Pittsburg is chained in, the wealthy living in ivory towers of luxury, oblivious to the suffering of the poor in the streets and the death that still occurs. Some of the poor make a living running errands outside the city, fetching food and supplies for everyone else. There's a growing resistance among the poor, wanting to fight against the inequality, but the rich have that taken care of easily enough. Meanwhile, the zombies have begun trying to rebuild some semblence of the lives they once had: one pumps gas for cars that don't come, two teenagers hold hands, a cheerleader still carries her pompoms. And one gets smart, learning how to fire a gun and recognizing the shining beacon of an office tower for what it means, and he leads the others toward the city to get what's theirs.
So call it a kinder, gentler zombie movie for the new millennium. I know that sounds crazy, because lots of guts are eaten and heads are torn off, but let's look at the facts:
1) The Good Guys are multi-ethnic. Seriously, you have White Guy, Latino Guy, Samoan Guy, Disfigured Retarded Guy, Tough White Chick, Tough European Chick, Lame Skateboarder Dude, Irish Guy Leading The Resistance...seriously, it's crazy. There's a DWARF, for chrissakes.
2) The Bad Guys are all white. And old. And they talk like George W. Bush. And they're racists. And they have black servants. Even in the apocolypse, they have Negro Servants. What's up with that? Although you know that would totally happen, the bastards.
3) Zombies have feelings. They care, like you and me. Head zombie dude kills another zombie who accidentally catches fire, presumably to put him out of his misery. It was actually kind of cool and sad.
4) Everybody loves everybody else. You get bit, they don't hesitate to shoot you in the head before you turn, but Man, do they feel bad about it. They all watch each others' backs, and they do what they do for The People.
5) The Bad Guys talk about how people are expendable and replaceable. They shoot people just for looking at them wrong, and they call our heroes "terrorists." BOO!
The end of this film, however, is the BEST. Our heroes, realizing the zombies have infiltrated the city, rush back with weapons to help. But they're too late!!! The zombies are chowing down on innocents! But they blow the suckers to Hell anyway, crying at the souls lost because They Were Too Late, but LOOK!!! There are survivors!! And Thank God, they're led by Irish Guy Leading The Resistance!! Thank God HE of all people survived!! Who knows what would have happened if the two chicks making out at the taco stand had made it out.
And then...The Tough White Chick spots a gang of zombies moving across a bridge into...who knows? "I'm going to kill them!" she says. But her hand is stayed by The Touchy-Feely New Age White Guy Leader. He looks through the binoculars and sees Head Zombie Dude looking back at him.
"Leave them be," he says. "They're just looking for a place of their own...like us."
And then he blows a kiss at Head Zombie Dude and Head Zombie Dude sheds a tear for the Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name And Can Never Be.
And then The Heroes drive off into the sunrise under a hail of Fireworks!!! YAY AMERICA!!!
Okay, the kiss part didn't happen. But the rest of it did.
So my review? Well, I had fun. It was a fun zombie movie. Greatest movie ever made? Well...that honor still belongs to THE CUTTING EDGE. But I'll have you know I didn't cover my eyes once!! Not even when dude was getting his guts ripped out through his mouth. And that same exact thing totally made me cry when I saw EVENT HORIZON!!!
To sum up: as The Brother put it...
WHEN THERE IS NO MORE ROOM IN HELL, THE DEAD SHALL WALK THE EARTH...And demand equal rights!!!
I think the zombies were a metaphor for gay people. Which means this is ANOTHER movie that is advocating gays to BLOW SHIT UP in the name of equality!!! And also tear people's gut out through their mouths. But only if that seems necessary.
REMEMBER: THE LAND OF THE DEAD was inside you the whole time. THE LAND OF THE DEAD that you were looking for...is family.
The next one should be made by Disney and star Nick Cage.
Coming up: I don't know. Stuff's coming out left and right, as it's summer. So we shall see. Fantastic Four is a definite. And...I'm drawing a total blank. This summer's movies are going to suck ass.
So right now it's 10:07pm and I was lucky enough to catch the tail-end of the "Damned If You Do" episode of HOUSE, which I'd never seen. Oh, yeah, and I went with The Brother to a sneak preview of Romero's LAND OF THE DEAD. Hugh Laurie in a turtleneck...yum.
But that's not why you're reading...you want dead people and guts. Okay, here it goes...
I think I may have told you a while back that I used to have this THING about GORE. I had a small problem with it, being that I couldn't watch it. But now that I'm in my thirties my stomach and I have gotten over it and now I can watch just about anything as long as it's still not ALIEN. Because I will NEVER EVER EVER watch ALIEN EVER. Even though I've now seen lots of pictures of John Hurt with a chestburster bursting out of his chest, and have not lost my senses and facilities, I'm still not going to watch it.
So needless to say I grew up without the benefit of a lot of the greatest horror movies of all time. It wasn't until college that I started to catch up, and even then it was kind of hit and miss. Like John Carpenter's PRINCE OF DARKNESS. I literally FLED halfway through that movie. I spent the remaining time in the hall outside my dorm room crying because I was so scared. Forced The Husband to watch it not too long ago; "Seriously, it's the scariest movie you will ever see!" I think I told him. That ended up being a bit of an exaggeration. THE EXORCIST? Also made me cry. I had a big paper to write that night, too. Satan apparently stays away if you've got a paper due. EVIL DEAD? Made me cry. And chain smoke for a half hour.
I knew I'd reached a turning point when a friend and I went to an all night horror marathon and I laughed my way through LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, which both my friend and my aunt said was the most disturbing film they'd ever seen. And my aunt is something of a horror aficionado so I kind of believed her. But it was still funny.
Does being completely desensitized make you a bad person?
So just this last year, at the urging of The Brother, I finally caught up on my Romero. DAWN OF THE DEAD, the original one, is all sorts of KICK ASS. It takes place in a mall, where four people run to hide from a horde of zombies. It reminded me of the 80s masterpiece NIGHT OF THE COMET. Valley girls, upon discovering they are the last people on earth, head for the mall to try stuff on. In both films, there's a novelty about having the place all to yourself that eventually wears off when you realize the finality of your predicament. DAWN OF THE DEAD was supposed to be social commentary about consumerism: when the zombies finally invade the mall, they lumber around and window shop, just like they did in life.
DAY OF THE DEAD, the next in the series, was supposed to reflect the detactment of the 80s. Everyone out for themselves. Not a care in the world for anyone else. Military versus Science. The Brother explained that the final film wasn't what Romero wanted, that he ran out of time and money. It's not that great of a film, although it has its moments.
So finally comes LAND OF THE DEAD, which exists in a limbo of NOW and SOME INDETERMINANT TIME SINCE THE LAST MOVIE, where zombies and humans have sort of reached a harmonic balance. Zombies still eat people, and people still shoot zombies in the head, but it doesn't happen with much frequency. Humanity has holed itself up in what are essentially "gated communities:" Pittsburg is chained in, the wealthy living in ivory towers of luxury, oblivious to the suffering of the poor in the streets and the death that still occurs. Some of the poor make a living running errands outside the city, fetching food and supplies for everyone else. There's a growing resistance among the poor, wanting to fight against the inequality, but the rich have that taken care of easily enough. Meanwhile, the zombies have begun trying to rebuild some semblence of the lives they once had: one pumps gas for cars that don't come, two teenagers hold hands, a cheerleader still carries her pompoms. And one gets smart, learning how to fire a gun and recognizing the shining beacon of an office tower for what it means, and he leads the others toward the city to get what's theirs.
So call it a kinder, gentler zombie movie for the new millennium. I know that sounds crazy, because lots of guts are eaten and heads are torn off, but let's look at the facts:
1) The Good Guys are multi-ethnic. Seriously, you have White Guy, Latino Guy, Samoan Guy, Disfigured Retarded Guy, Tough White Chick, Tough European Chick, Lame Skateboarder Dude, Irish Guy Leading The Resistance...seriously, it's crazy. There's a DWARF, for chrissakes.
2) The Bad Guys are all white. And old. And they talk like George W. Bush. And they're racists. And they have black servants. Even in the apocolypse, they have Negro Servants. What's up with that? Although you know that would totally happen, the bastards.
3) Zombies have feelings. They care, like you and me. Head zombie dude kills another zombie who accidentally catches fire, presumably to put him out of his misery. It was actually kind of cool and sad.
4) Everybody loves everybody else. You get bit, they don't hesitate to shoot you in the head before you turn, but Man, do they feel bad about it. They all watch each others' backs, and they do what they do for The People.
5) The Bad Guys talk about how people are expendable and replaceable. They shoot people just for looking at them wrong, and they call our heroes "terrorists." BOO!
The end of this film, however, is the BEST. Our heroes, realizing the zombies have infiltrated the city, rush back with weapons to help. But they're too late!!! The zombies are chowing down on innocents! But they blow the suckers to Hell anyway, crying at the souls lost because They Were Too Late, but LOOK!!! There are survivors!! And Thank God, they're led by Irish Guy Leading The Resistance!! Thank God HE of all people survived!! Who knows what would have happened if the two chicks making out at the taco stand had made it out.
And then...The Tough White Chick spots a gang of zombies moving across a bridge into...who knows? "I'm going to kill them!" she says. But her hand is stayed by The Touchy-Feely New Age White Guy Leader. He looks through the binoculars and sees Head Zombie Dude looking back at him.
"Leave them be," he says. "They're just looking for a place of their own...like us."
And then he blows a kiss at Head Zombie Dude and Head Zombie Dude sheds a tear for the Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name And Can Never Be.
And then The Heroes drive off into the sunrise under a hail of Fireworks!!! YAY AMERICA!!!
Okay, the kiss part didn't happen. But the rest of it did.
So my review? Well, I had fun. It was a fun zombie movie. Greatest movie ever made? Well...that honor still belongs to THE CUTTING EDGE. But I'll have you know I didn't cover my eyes once!! Not even when dude was getting his guts ripped out through his mouth. And that same exact thing totally made me cry when I saw EVENT HORIZON!!!
To sum up: as The Brother put it...
WHEN THERE IS NO MORE ROOM IN HELL, THE DEAD SHALL WALK THE EARTH...And demand equal rights!!!
I think the zombies were a metaphor for gay people. Which means this is ANOTHER movie that is advocating gays to BLOW SHIT UP in the name of equality!!! And also tear people's gut out through their mouths. But only if that seems necessary.
REMEMBER: THE LAND OF THE DEAD was inside you the whole time. THE LAND OF THE DEAD that you were looking for...is family.
The next one should be made by Disney and star Nick Cage.
Coming up: I don't know. Stuff's coming out left and right, as it's summer. So we shall see. Fantastic Four is a definite. And...I'm drawing a total blank. This summer's movies are going to suck ass.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
review--MR. & MRS. SMITH
SPOILERS!!!
So yesterday was my second wedding anniversary. Two whole years. Goes by in a blink, when all you can think about is when the laundry's going to do itself and what's needed from the store. Seriously though, whoever said everything changes once you get that piece of paper was lying through their teeth. But of course, they also probably didn't start out thinking the ultimate romantic night out was walking off Hometown Buffet with a stroll through Target.
So, I guess you could say married life is treating me well. Or as The Therapist put it, "Kelmeister, look at your life: You're fat, you haven't started your Master's thesis, your house is a wreck, and you're the happiest you've ever been in your life." And it's true. And part of that is due to massive amounts of Prozac, and part of that is The Husband.
The only thing I would change is that I wish I could drive like Angelina Jolie in MR. & MRS. SMITH.
I don't know if you know this, but it's very difficult to review a movie that doesn't suck ass. VERY DIFFICULT. You basically say, "It kicked all sorts of ass," and then you're done. But for your sakes, I'll try to muster.
Did I ever tell you about how The Husband proposed? He came to The Job dressed as a gorilla. HA! I wish. Instead, it's an incredibly complicated story. Many years ago, before the Earth was formed, The Then-Not-Yet-Husband and I went on a trip to Cincinnati, because that's where all young lovers go. We were there to visit the museum, but when we arrived at our hotel (ROOM 1013!!! That's The X-Files' Chris Carter's Birthday! And production company! Fate was afoot!) The Then-Not-Yet-Husband sent me off for ice for the purpose of getting me out of the room for fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for me, the ice machine was in a cubby hole right next to our room, so I sat in a chair in the hall with a bucket of ice, praying no one would come by. When I was finally allowed to enter the room, The Then-Not-Yet-Husband had transformed the room into a real life romance novel, with rose petals strewn all over, and candies and chocolates and small French pastries, and champagne. And that night was the first time we confessed our undying love for one another. Awwww.
Fast forward a few years. The Then-Not-Yet-Husband's best friend is coming into town for a visit, and we're meeting her for dinner and a movie. But she's not getting into town until later; we'll meet up at the movie. He takes me out to dinner at a swanky restaurant. I'm convinced TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT: my mother gave him her engagement ring to give to me, so I knew all about the coming proposal because every time I saw my mother she'd ask if he'd asked yet. Yummy pasta ensues; no proposal. We go to the movies to see BOURNE IDENTITY. Still no friend; he's called, she's tired, we're meeting at the hotel after the movie. Okay, whatever. "You know," I says, after we sit down, "I was sure you were going to propose, what with the swanky restaurant.' The Then-Not-Yet-Husband laughs. The movie KICKS ASS. We leave and go to the hotel.
"Did you call The Best Friend?" I ask. No, but she knows we're coming. "What if she's sleeping and we wake her up?" She's not sleeping. "How do you know?"
By then, we're at her room. The Then-Not-Yet-Husband pulls out a key card. "You have a key?" I ask. Yes, she gave it to him earlier for just such an eventuality. We walk inside. All the lights are out.
"Goddamnit, she's still sleeping!" I hiss. I call out The Best Friend's name as I creep into the bedroom. The lights come on. "She's not here," I say, "where'd she go? Do you think she left without us?"
I turn around, and of course The Best Friend isn't there. It was all a scam, as the room is decorated to remind me of our night in Cincinnati. Except this time there's a bottle of Dom and an engagement ring. And an expensive designer candle that I promptly knock over on top of the TV so a half hour is spent scraping hot wax off the carpet and monitor. And we don't drink all the champagne, so an hour is spent trying to cork the bottle back up. And we have to walk fifty miles to the front door to smoke, and I'm a total mess with the hysterical crying, and the earth-shaking post-engagement sex never happens because I pretty much cry myself to sleep on the couch watching "Chef."
And that is How I Got Engaged.
So it was only appropriate that two years later we spend the day after our anniversary celebrating our anniversary by going to see BOURNE IDENTITY BUT WITH WAY HOTTER ACTORS AND MORE EXPLOSIONS, AND IT'S ALSO A METAPHOR FOR MODERN MARRIAGE.
MR. & MRS. SMITH stars two people I normally don't really care about, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, basically acting their socks off, if they were actually wearing socks. They're a married couple on the verge of divorce, until they learn that they're both hit men and they have to kill each other. But then they join forces because they actually do love each other, and because of the First Law of SPEED the sex is now totally incredible, and so they go on a rampage and blow lots of shit up and look beautiful doing it, and Vince Vaugh is in it and he's totally a part of my Imaginary Harem because he rocks all kinds of shit. And there's therapy and pot roast and David Duchovny's ex-girlfriend Perrey Reeves and Jennifer Morrison from HOUSE and Adrian Brody from the OC which I know about even though I totally DO NOT watch that show, and shit blowing up while looking beautiful doing it, and then I totally cried at the end because the movie just goes to prove that EVERYTHING THE REPUBLICANS EVER SAID ABOUT THE SANCTITY OF MARRIAGE IS TOTALLY TRUE, especially if shit blows up.
Gays, get out there and start blowing some shit up, and then they CANNOT DENY YOU the right to marry!!!
Let me just interject here that I don't give a Rat's Flaming Ass if Brad Pitt left Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie. It is totally beneath me to care. Although I totally believe it's because he wanted to have children and she wanted to concentrate on her career. Not that there's anything wrong with that. And I'm not one to pass judgment, especially over people I don't even know. But seriously, I would leave Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie. She's SMOKIN' HOT. And I'm not even a lesbian. I read an interview where the writer was talking about how Angelina Jolie doesn't care about POP CULTURE, she's worrying about REAL THINGS THAT MATTER, and that is so awesome. I wish I could do that. I mean, I do care. And if I didn't have to work or write this blog and I was a millionaire, I'd do stuff, too.
But luckily for you, I'm sitting right where I am.
Anyway, this movie is the dog's balls. It's really funny. I don't think I've had that much fun at a movie in a long while. And Brangelina have tons--TONS--of chemistry. Seriously, this sounds really trite and crass and like I'm really old, but they are a joy to watch. I giggled--GIGGLED--when they argued. They were really cute kicking the crap out of one another.
So now I think that they're actually half-decent actors. And the script was very clever in its use of layered dialogue: are they talking about their jobs or their marriage? Very intelligent. Very witty. Brad Pitt did some great physical gags, too. And there were many spectacular explosions.
Well, I'm off to bed. I wish I could say that I was going to partake in some post-anniversary sex, but The Husband just bought an Xbox, and a man's gotta have his priorities. I can't complain: I've got about forty pages left in my rereading of The Amityville Horror. Gots to cue up the VCR; since I started rereading this, I've not been able to sleep without the TV on. I'm lame.
"Jodie's my friend. Jodie's a pig."
Seriously, saw the movie, and except for Ryan Reynolds's hip bones...not much worth seeing. The book's a billion times scarier.
Ryan Reynolds's hip bones are my new imaginary boyfriend. Did you know he's married to Alanis Morrissette? It's true! And his character shot Scully on The X-Files. But I think I told you that already.
Next up: BATMAN BEGINS on Saturday. Then LAND OF THE DEAD. Then, who knows?
PS: If The Husband reads this..."10." He'll know what it means.
So yesterday was my second wedding anniversary. Two whole years. Goes by in a blink, when all you can think about is when the laundry's going to do itself and what's needed from the store. Seriously though, whoever said everything changes once you get that piece of paper was lying through their teeth. But of course, they also probably didn't start out thinking the ultimate romantic night out was walking off Hometown Buffet with a stroll through Target.
So, I guess you could say married life is treating me well. Or as The Therapist put it, "Kelmeister, look at your life: You're fat, you haven't started your Master's thesis, your house is a wreck, and you're the happiest you've ever been in your life." And it's true. And part of that is due to massive amounts of Prozac, and part of that is The Husband.
The only thing I would change is that I wish I could drive like Angelina Jolie in MR. & MRS. SMITH.
I don't know if you know this, but it's very difficult to review a movie that doesn't suck ass. VERY DIFFICULT. You basically say, "It kicked all sorts of ass," and then you're done. But for your sakes, I'll try to muster.
Did I ever tell you about how The Husband proposed? He came to The Job dressed as a gorilla. HA! I wish. Instead, it's an incredibly complicated story. Many years ago, before the Earth was formed, The Then-Not-Yet-Husband and I went on a trip to Cincinnati, because that's where all young lovers go. We were there to visit the museum, but when we arrived at our hotel (ROOM 1013!!! That's The X-Files' Chris Carter's Birthday! And production company! Fate was afoot!) The Then-Not-Yet-Husband sent me off for ice for the purpose of getting me out of the room for fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for me, the ice machine was in a cubby hole right next to our room, so I sat in a chair in the hall with a bucket of ice, praying no one would come by. When I was finally allowed to enter the room, The Then-Not-Yet-Husband had transformed the room into a real life romance novel, with rose petals strewn all over, and candies and chocolates and small French pastries, and champagne. And that night was the first time we confessed our undying love for one another. Awwww.
Fast forward a few years. The Then-Not-Yet-Husband's best friend is coming into town for a visit, and we're meeting her for dinner and a movie. But she's not getting into town until later; we'll meet up at the movie. He takes me out to dinner at a swanky restaurant. I'm convinced TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT: my mother gave him her engagement ring to give to me, so I knew all about the coming proposal because every time I saw my mother she'd ask if he'd asked yet. Yummy pasta ensues; no proposal. We go to the movies to see BOURNE IDENTITY. Still no friend; he's called, she's tired, we're meeting at the hotel after the movie. Okay, whatever. "You know," I says, after we sit down, "I was sure you were going to propose, what with the swanky restaurant.' The Then-Not-Yet-Husband laughs. The movie KICKS ASS. We leave and go to the hotel.
"Did you call The Best Friend?" I ask. No, but she knows we're coming. "What if she's sleeping and we wake her up?" She's not sleeping. "How do you know?"
By then, we're at her room. The Then-Not-Yet-Husband pulls out a key card. "You have a key?" I ask. Yes, she gave it to him earlier for just such an eventuality. We walk inside. All the lights are out.
"Goddamnit, she's still sleeping!" I hiss. I call out The Best Friend's name as I creep into the bedroom. The lights come on. "She's not here," I say, "where'd she go? Do you think she left without us?"
I turn around, and of course The Best Friend isn't there. It was all a scam, as the room is decorated to remind me of our night in Cincinnati. Except this time there's a bottle of Dom and an engagement ring. And an expensive designer candle that I promptly knock over on top of the TV so a half hour is spent scraping hot wax off the carpet and monitor. And we don't drink all the champagne, so an hour is spent trying to cork the bottle back up. And we have to walk fifty miles to the front door to smoke, and I'm a total mess with the hysterical crying, and the earth-shaking post-engagement sex never happens because I pretty much cry myself to sleep on the couch watching "Chef."
And that is How I Got Engaged.
So it was only appropriate that two years later we spend the day after our anniversary celebrating our anniversary by going to see BOURNE IDENTITY BUT WITH WAY HOTTER ACTORS AND MORE EXPLOSIONS, AND IT'S ALSO A METAPHOR FOR MODERN MARRIAGE.
MR. & MRS. SMITH stars two people I normally don't really care about, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, basically acting their socks off, if they were actually wearing socks. They're a married couple on the verge of divorce, until they learn that they're both hit men and they have to kill each other. But then they join forces because they actually do love each other, and because of the First Law of SPEED the sex is now totally incredible, and so they go on a rampage and blow lots of shit up and look beautiful doing it, and Vince Vaugh is in it and he's totally a part of my Imaginary Harem because he rocks all kinds of shit. And there's therapy and pot roast and David Duchovny's ex-girlfriend Perrey Reeves and Jennifer Morrison from HOUSE and Adrian Brody from the OC which I know about even though I totally DO NOT watch that show, and shit blowing up while looking beautiful doing it, and then I totally cried at the end because the movie just goes to prove that EVERYTHING THE REPUBLICANS EVER SAID ABOUT THE SANCTITY OF MARRIAGE IS TOTALLY TRUE, especially if shit blows up.
Gays, get out there and start blowing some shit up, and then they CANNOT DENY YOU the right to marry!!!
Let me just interject here that I don't give a Rat's Flaming Ass if Brad Pitt left Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie. It is totally beneath me to care. Although I totally believe it's because he wanted to have children and she wanted to concentrate on her career. Not that there's anything wrong with that. And I'm not one to pass judgment, especially over people I don't even know. But seriously, I would leave Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie. She's SMOKIN' HOT. And I'm not even a lesbian. I read an interview where the writer was talking about how Angelina Jolie doesn't care about POP CULTURE, she's worrying about REAL THINGS THAT MATTER, and that is so awesome. I wish I could do that. I mean, I do care. And if I didn't have to work or write this blog and I was a millionaire, I'd do stuff, too.
But luckily for you, I'm sitting right where I am.
Anyway, this movie is the dog's balls. It's really funny. I don't think I've had that much fun at a movie in a long while. And Brangelina have tons--TONS--of chemistry. Seriously, this sounds really trite and crass and like I'm really old, but they are a joy to watch. I giggled--GIGGLED--when they argued. They were really cute kicking the crap out of one another.
So now I think that they're actually half-decent actors. And the script was very clever in its use of layered dialogue: are they talking about their jobs or their marriage? Very intelligent. Very witty. Brad Pitt did some great physical gags, too. And there were many spectacular explosions.
Well, I'm off to bed. I wish I could say that I was going to partake in some post-anniversary sex, but The Husband just bought an Xbox, and a man's gotta have his priorities. I can't complain: I've got about forty pages left in my rereading of The Amityville Horror. Gots to cue up the VCR; since I started rereading this, I've not been able to sleep without the TV on. I'm lame.
"Jodie's my friend. Jodie's a pig."
Seriously, saw the movie, and except for Ryan Reynolds's hip bones...not much worth seeing. The book's a billion times scarier.
Ryan Reynolds's hip bones are my new imaginary boyfriend. Did you know he's married to Alanis Morrissette? It's true! And his character shot Scully on The X-Files. But I think I told you that already.
Next up: BATMAN BEGINS on Saturday. Then LAND OF THE DEAD. Then, who knows?
PS: If The Husband reads this..."10." He'll know what it means.
Friday, June 3, 2005
interlude--Magical Musical Meme
This challenge comes from Nala over at Naladahc.com, an entity I like to think of as my "blogging mentor." So when he says jump, I ask how high. And then when I land I kick him in the balls for ordering me around.
I'd like to begin by saying I own a Creative Nomad Jukebox Zen Xtra, 40GB. I own, like, five CDs and they're all Duran Duran, so imagine my surprize when I when I went to check how much space I have!!! What is all this crap? And where did it come from?
Total volume of music files on my computer:
Stuff on my computer is either all over the place waiting to get transfered to my Zen or it's stuff from my Zen that I'm holding in protective custody. I tried backing up my CDs on my computer and ended up killing the hard drive: too much stuff.
My Zen has 4678 songs, 18578 MB. I don't know how much that is in GB. Some of those are duplicates; I have 3 copies of Hooverphonic's 2Wicky on three different albums. Why, I don't know.
The last CD I bought:
The last physical CD I bought was Beneath... Between... Beyond by Static-X. I bought that on 5/27/05. The last CD I bought was Poison Arrows by Communique, purchased from iTunes on 6/1/05.
Song playing right now:
A Praise Chorus by Jimmy Eat World.
Five songs I listen to a lot, or mean a lot to me:
In heavy rotation on my player right now:
1. "Back That Azz Up" - Juvenile
2. "A.D.D." - System Of A Down
3. "Long, Long Road" - Bo Bice, American Idol Finals Show
4. "Fix Up Look Sharp" - Dizzee Rascal
5. "Fuck The World" - Insane Clown Posse
Five songs that I'd have with me on a desert island to remind me what I'm missing:
* "The Promise" - When In Rome
* "Try" - Billy Pilgrim
* "Walk On The Ocean" - Toad The Wet Sprocket
* "How Will You Go" - Crowded House
* "Palomino" - Duran Duran
Five people to whom I知 passing this baton:
Hell, I don't know. Who do I know who Blogs? Besides the usual suspects who've already been called out by Nala. Fuck it.
I'd like to begin by saying I own a Creative Nomad Jukebox Zen Xtra, 40GB. I own, like, five CDs and they're all Duran Duran, so imagine my surprize when I when I went to check how much space I have!!! What is all this crap? And where did it come from?
Total volume of music files on my computer:
Stuff on my computer is either all over the place waiting to get transfered to my Zen or it's stuff from my Zen that I'm holding in protective custody. I tried backing up my CDs on my computer and ended up killing the hard drive: too much stuff.
My Zen has 4678 songs, 18578 MB. I don't know how much that is in GB. Some of those are duplicates; I have 3 copies of Hooverphonic's 2Wicky on three different albums. Why, I don't know.
The last CD I bought:
The last physical CD I bought was Beneath... Between... Beyond by Static-X. I bought that on 5/27/05. The last CD I bought was Poison Arrows by Communique, purchased from iTunes on 6/1/05.
Song playing right now:
A Praise Chorus by Jimmy Eat World.
Five songs I listen to a lot, or mean a lot to me:
In heavy rotation on my player right now:
1. "Back That Azz Up" - Juvenile
2. "A.D.D." - System Of A Down
3. "Long, Long Road" - Bo Bice, American Idol Finals Show
4. "Fix Up Look Sharp" - Dizzee Rascal
5. "Fuck The World" - Insane Clown Posse
Five songs that I'd have with me on a desert island to remind me what I'm missing:
* "The Promise" - When In Rome
* "Try" - Billy Pilgrim
* "Walk On The Ocean" - Toad The Wet Sprocket
* "How Will You Go" - Crowded House
* "Palomino" - Duran Duran
Five people to whom I知 passing this baton:
Hell, I don't know. Who do I know who Blogs? Besides the usual suspects who've already been called out by Nala. Fuck it.
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