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August
2008 ISSUE #129 |
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Swing Vote
Just like they are in Swing Vote, the story of an unemployed, beer-soaked Kevin Costner who, through a transparently ridiculous plot device, gets to solely decide who the next president of the United States. Oh, and his choices are Dennis Hopper and Dr. Frasier Crane. So the media starts hounding Costner and his precocious daughter/moral compass, as do the candidates themselves. Costner becomes an overnight celebrity. He seems to be playing Larry the Cable Guy’s older brother, Bud. Then, guessing by Costner’s daughter’s speech about how everyone has the power to change the world, some heavy-handed, preachy, false hope message is on the way. If you don’t vote you’re a shitball. Yeah yeah, I get it. So how is some jabber-jaw 12 year-old going to sucker me into seeing this colossal turd? She’s not. All I’ve got to tell myself, in the unlikely event of finding myself about to watch Swing Vote, is that the last time Costner and Hopper got together on screen we wound up with Waterworld. That’s a surefire boner killer right there. That shit kills boners dead. Pineapple Express
But then I saw the red band/R-Rated trailer for Pineapple Express, and now I feel a little forgiving. Whatever you do, don’t watch the regular “approved for all audiences” trailer. Watch the R-rated one online. Rogen’s a stoner who presumably wears a suit to work. James Franco is his dipshit dealer. Lumberg from Office Space is a shady cop who kills someone, while Rogen witnesses the deed. Stupid gets spotted, grabs his dealer and they’re on the run. Zaniness ensues, of course. I thought I saw some hip hop breakin’ in there, some car chases, explosions, and some big jumps too. Small problem: It’s a stoner comedy. This usually isn’t a bad thing, as long as it’s out on DVD. Because who the hell wants to leave their own custom stinkhole in their couch if they don’t have to, especially when you can’t bring your bong to the cinema? This looks good, but I can watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas every week until Pineapple Express comes out on DVD. It don’t bug me. Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2
So $40 and a new keyboard later, I have to come back and tell you that Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 is a sequel to a movie about 4 chicks who mail letters and a pair of swamp-ass jeans to each other. The first one to menstruate into them agrees to be tarred and feathered by the other 3. Then she gets a train run on her by whatever Whitesnake cover band plays down at the corner bar that night. There’s never a shortage of them. After she’s iced and passed out, she’s buried alive in a muddy grave and wakes up 2 states away. And the revenge she takes is always exacting. Always! As much I’d actually go see that, this movie is actually about 4 girls with great personalities* who wine about guys and their lives as they share pants that they mail to each other. Why they all share these pants is beyond me. I don’t mind suspending a certain amount of disbelief but there’s no way in hell you’re going to get me to believe that Ugly Betty and that blonde can fit their respective haunches into the same pair of jeans. Ugly Betty’s in this movie, so it’s assumed people will see this. I won’t, but someone will. Mark my words. Tropic Thunder
Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Not the end. More. Now Lucas has made a 3D video game you can’t control as he expands the Star Wars universe and makes more Clone Wars cartoons. It was briefly touched upon a few years back when Cartoon Network belted out 2 volumes of the Clone Wars cartoons. A few of the things that went on in the years between episodes 2 and 3 were kind of cool, but you get the point pretty quick. So now there’s a feature length movie that’s not going to touch, but poke on this period in Star Wars history even further. Oh, and lead into a regular series on Cartoon Network. Over 40 episodes in the can already. I love Star Wars. Star Wars has been a part of my life since I was 2 years old. It was my first movie. I own 4, maybe 5 editions of the original trilogy. If George Lucas releases another version with so much as an added Wampa fart I will buy it, no questions asked. But it’s over, George. Let go. The Clone Wars ended. We need to get on with our lives and we need you to come with us, George. It’s time, George. Let’s go. I’m going to miss Mace Windu, too George. We’re all going to miss Mace Windu. But he’d want you to move on with your life. Death Race
As much as the idea of Death Race 2000 being remade annoys me, it doesn’t entirely piss me off. We’re getting to that. What does have me ready to start banging pots and pans at hard volume around the house at 3AM is the fact that Jason Fucking Statham is in this movie. This clown is like bank charges—no matter what painstaking steps you take to keep them at bay, they just keeping popping up. What’s the appeal of Statham anyway? What? He’s like one of 57 white guys on the entire planet that looks good bald. He’s not fat and sounds like he uses Lava soap as mouthwash? Seriously, I’d love to know why I should give a shit. This guy has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll do anything—I wouldn’t be surprised to hear about his exploits in the gay porn industry. Statham, cockney accent and all, plays a NASCAR driver who goes to jail for the murder of his wife. The ballbusting warden, played by Joan Allen, holds a cross country—look, if you don’t know the plot behind Death Race 2000, or in this case, just plain Death Race, I can’t help you. I just can’t. And if you don’t see Death Race 2000, but just Death Race, then I definitely can’t help you. Don’t come back until you’ve seen 3 movies Roger Corman made. The House Bunny
I’ve never given the matter much thought, but it only makes sense that big people take big dumps. Generally larger people eat more, and the more you eat the more you crap. It’s just simple physics, man. But apparently this mother’s leavings were every bit as monstrous as she was. Every third trip to the crapper left a near-black anaconda that no amount of flushing would or could ever hope to banish or subdue. So the son or daughter (once you hear a twist like that, the smaller details vanish into the darkness) would have to fight and eventually break up this monster with a straightened coat hanger so it could be dismantled and sent to hell. Not made up. And that’s where I went during the trailer for The House Bunny. This Legally Blonde rehash stars Anna Faris, who was in all 476 Scary Movies, playing an ousted Playboy model with no life skills who ends up as a house mother for a sorority of misfits and nerds. Faris teaches the girls to become attractive by taking off their glasses (you know, because every girl who wears glasses is stunning after she gets contacts) and the girls who have great personalities* teach Faris not to be stupid as she hopes to hook up with a brainy hunk who happens to be Tom Hanks’ son. So yeah, I’d rather think about the mashing of obese people’s feces than The House Bunny. I could be wrong, but at least with the poo I can keep a consistent mood going. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor
But fuck that noise; I’m getting psyched for Dark Knight. I keep finding more and more clips that slowly unravel what the hell this movie’s going to be. I’m going to have a geek boner through the whole thing. I hope I don’t pass out from the excitement. It’s opening almost as I write this and I’m about to go blind from tunnel vision for The Dark Knight. I nearly painted my daughter up as The Joker the other day. So how the hell am I supposed to get excited about The Mummy? A Batman movie where they finally explore the depths of human depravity and hell itself for its inspiration with a darkness that parallels Barry White reading Sylvia Plath in an opium den, and I’m supposed to give a shit because you brought in Jet Li and moved the action to Asia? And how about Asian “mummies?” Did Asians mummify their dead? I thought it was only Egyptians who participated in that practice. Anyway, Li plays the evil emperor who, along with his army, was imprisoned in stone thousands of years ago. And Rachel Weisz isn’t even in this! They replaced her with Maria Bello and the son’s a teenager now! You honestly expect me to give a rat’s ass when The Dark Knight offers a performance by Heath Ledger that promises to be so severe that playing the role arguably had a hand in his death? Oooh, but Tomb of the Dragon Emperor has armies of the dead fighting in an open battlefield in a way that would be appealing to Lord of the Rings and 300 fans! Kiss my dick, Mummy! I wouldn’t poke a straightened coat hanger through this steaming pile if you paid me. Well, okay, I’d see The Mummy if you paid me enough. But it’s on a night where I work the big job. I take the night off and you pay me your initial fee plus what I’d normally make. All expenses paid, including a rental car of my choice. I’m fed before and will be made inebriated after the feature presentation. If someone would set me up like with a gig like this twice a week, I’d be set. * Uggos |
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