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ISSUE #107
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Features

ArrowGreat Gaffes Through the Ages
A comprehensive list

ArrowWhy ask Why?
Five years after 9/11, the question remains unanswered
Matt Taibbi

ArrowExtreme History Makeover
Lynne Cheney and the rules of history
Christopher Famighetti

ArrowYour Tax Dollars at Work
In Washington, another tale of waste and fraud unpunished
Matt Taibbi

ArrowBaby Suri Hates You, Wants You Dead
Scott Brochert and Josh Righter

Local BEAST
ArrowCON
Tom Reynolds, WNY’s human colostomy bag
Allan Uthman
Departments

ArrowThe Beast Page 3
Obscure Racial Epithet

ArrowKino Korner: Movies
Hollywoodland, The Black Dahlia, The Covenant, The Last Kiss, Gridiron Gang, The Protector

ArrowBEAST-O-Scopes
As divined by your ethereal guide

Arrow[sic] - Letters
Gentleman Be Trippin', Hot Girl on Girl Misogyny, Our Illiterate Correspondent and more

Kino Korner

 


Hollywoodland | The Black Dahlia | The Covenant
The Last Kiss
| Gridiron Gang | The Protector


The Protector

The ProtectorIt’s a little-known fact that Tom Maccio once saved my life. If my memory didn’t go straight to hell once I hit 30 I probably wouldn’t be so hard pressed to remember more than one occasion, but there’s one in particular that springs to mind.

It was 2002. A memorable year on many fronts, mostly for bad and tragic reasons and also the year that Maccio and I began our friendship which was quickly forged in Irish whiskey, $2 pints before 11PM, early morning/late night trips to 24-hour Greek diners to eat omelets and start shit with nasty, girthy, sloppy drunk she-beasts in the glass-encased smoking section. Helium, Moog synthesizers and lurkers were also somehow part of the equation, but booze was definitely the staple.

We were punishing our respective livers and kidneys in some Allentown dive and I made the decision earlier in the day to see how sideways I could get on an empty stomach. Once I was out of the starting gate (2 shots and 2 beers) it all went to hell and long story short, Maccio kept me from going home/behind a dumpster/to a van down by the river with one of the monsters we usually squared off with at a diner at 5 in the morning. I thought I was trying to hook up with twins that were really in tune with each other. Tullamore Dew is a very cruel drink.

So in return, Maccio made me promise to take him to any martial arts movie that opens theatrically. To him, those movies are the height of male bonding and even when they’re bad they’re good because they have all the ingredients necessary for a great moviegoing experience. But then again, all he needs out of a movie are as follows:

-Jet Li
-Spontaneous flames
-Motorcycles
-Eurotrash
-Thick Asian women
-Gravity-defying choreography
-Puppies and/or kittens
-A Reba McIntyre soundtrack

Maccio has a routine when he goes to see these movies. Oftentimes he’ll pleasure himself without using his hands. And he wears a sleep mask while he does it, but to his credit, he’s very quiet about it and unless the movie gets boring you don’t even notice. But the best part about the whole experience is that Maccio feels tough afterward. Sometimes it’s blatant and other times it’s more subtle and subdued. But after the presentation he always starts talking trash to the cardboard cutouts of upcoming movies and if it’s a life-sized cutout he usually punches it in the head.

Nonsensical shenanigans aside, The Protector is actually an important movie. It’s noteworthy in the sense that it’s the passing of the torch in the world of martial arts movie stars. Jet Li is no longer making martial arts movies and the movie’s star Tony Jaa is “the new guy.” At least around here. The Protector doesn’t really offer anything new but martial arts movies are entertaining if not damn fun. They’re like water that way, sometimes you just specifically want a glass of water. None of this hint of fruit crap going on in the background, just water water because you know exactly what to expect and it’s going to be exactly what you want.

 

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