Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
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Back to drew's blog-o-rama?
It truly pains me to say this, but the new Donnie Darko Director's Cut teaser trailer should have been locked behind the cellar door. And this is coming from a die-hard Donnie Darko fan who has converted more unenlightened people to see the light than Mel Gibson could ever dream of.
The problem is that the images are just too damn fast to get any coherence out of 'em. It's all rat-a-tat-tat, no real dialogue, no nada. Even Michael Bay would say that they did too many quick cuts. Donnie Darko is described perfectly in the Mad World lyric "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad," and this teaser left me with neither. So instead of warming my heart with recognition of scenes I love, it left me oddly distant and bewildered, like Lela Rochon after her quick sexual encounter with Big Poppa in Waiting To Exhale.
So then my next question is, if I, a dyed-in-the-wool Darko fan (Jen had the same reaction), was not inspired by this trailer, what the heck is a person who never saw Donnie Darko in the first place going to think? I can't imagine that a person who hadn't seen it already could watch this trailer and have any motivation to drag their lazy butt to the theater. And isn't the re-release about getting more people to see the flick since absolutely nobody saw it theatrically the first go-round? For a movie about whether one should go back and change history, it sure as heck looks like history is going to repeat itself.
If it were me, I would have just used the original Donnie Darko trailer with a tagline with something to the effect of "Yeah, we know you own it already, but c'mon, seeing Donnie Darko recut with the deleted scenes in a movie theater full of enthusiastic fans like yourself will make it a theatrical experience you'll never forget. P.S. Bring ten friends."
Reason #387 Drew would have never made it in marketing.
Related tune: The Killing Moon by Echo And The Bunnymen (mp3 via sala dark)
"Dammit, I should've listened to T.C. about the baseball caps."
Did I ever tell you that I'm 100% positive that my personal hell will contain somebody speaking to me in that fashion eternally? "Who's a bad boooooy? Who's gonna buuuurn? You are! You cwispy w'il fwame-bwoiled cutie!"
Ah, felt good to get that off my chest. There was a point to that catharsis; have you seen the new Catwoman poster yet? I know, I know...making fun of Catwoman is getting to be about as cliche' as bitching about Carrot Top or Dennis Miller's turn to the dark (and worse, unfunny) side. But sheesh, Catwoman just consistently comes up with new and astonishing ways to keep me comin' back to the well.
Look closely (larger pic) at Halle Berry and her body language, with her kitty tush just barely cut off so you can't quite see what's what. I've seen many cats in that exact same squatting position, same bizarre look in their eyes.
When they're taking a crap.
Maybe it's just me, but it looks like she's going to be obsessively digging up some Jonny Cat in a second to guiltily cover up the evidence. Lovely image to put in my head, fellas. I'm sure you've now cornered the market opening weekend for feline scatological freaks.
Related tune: Year Of The Cat by Al Stewart (mp3 via page 27)
So proclaimeth nouveau-blondie Colin Farrell in the new Alexander trailer. Do lines like this actually work? If somebody said that kind of thing to me, I'd immediately ask if they meant "conquer death" in the literal sense (i.e. living) or in the figurative sense (i.e. roadkill that people talk about for a while). Either way, I still have an irrational fear of koalas, so I'm screwed regardless.
Back to the trailer, it does absolutely nothing for me. Warriors and spears and horsies...oh my! Notice how they conveniently left out the bisexuality that's going to be in the flick. Guess they figure showing Colin swapping spit with Jared Leto might scare away the homophobic folk who dig gladiator movies. Of course, if you're homophobic and dig gladiator movies, you probably have a few unresolved issues you might want to work out there, bub.
And they don't really show anything but Colin in the trailer, besides a few obligatory flashes of battles. Towards the end, they show Farrell wide-eyed, about to take on what must be some jaw-dropping opponent and it turns out to be...an elephant. The money shot is Colin on a horse vs. some guy on a freakin' elephant. Yawn. I could almost hear Donald Kaufman pitching it. "Hey, bro...I've got a Alexander on a horse fighting a guy on an elephant. It's like a battle between big and slow...and horse!"
I'll be so glad when this historical epic thing goes the way of torn sweatshirts. I prefer some good old fashioned psychotic ear removal or accidental getting shot in the face, thank you very much.
Related tune: Horse With No Name by America (real audio via deradio.com)
Of course, I also thought the combo of Alan Parker with Kevin Spacey and Kate Winslet was a divine recipe, and David Gale made me want to asphyxiate myself with a Hefty bag. But still, being ever the cinematic optimist, I'm pretty enthused at the news (via CHUD) that Michel Gondry is going to direct Jack Black in The Master of Space and Time.
Sure, it'll be Michel's first outing without a Charlie Kaufman script, but if you've seen the DVD collection of his commercials, videos, and shorts, you know that there's absolutely nothing to worry about. The guy has more creativity in his little finger than 98% of working directors in Hollywood today. Take that, Simon West.
And we all know Jack Black is terrific when he's got the right director behind him. Jack Black with Stephen Frears or Richard Linklater produces gems like High Fidelity and School Of Rock. On the other side, Jack Black under the guidance of Dennis Dugan or the Farrelly brothers produces dreck like Saving Silverman and Shallow Hal.
And speaking of Michel Gondry...where the heck is the announcement for the DVD of Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind already? I'm going through some serious Joel and Clem withdrawal, man. Yeah, the new Diet Coke commercial (watch) starring Kate Beckinsale is cute. And I have to admit, I love the new Mad World (watch) video, 'tis a thing of beauty. They certainly wet the whistle but I need a full length flick already, dammit.
Related tune: Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (mp3 via It Is Just Me?)
Not only is the above an accurate representation of my utter sloth, it's also an homage to Nico. Seems the director of Young Adam, David McKenzie, is going to tackle Nico's bio, and that makes me happy. Because I'm an ignorant fool and I needs me movie learnin' on this here singer's life. Seriously.
I'm not man enough to, you know, fix a flat tire or look an authority figure in the eye, but I am man enough to admit that I know nothing about Nico and only discovered her after seeing The Royal Tenenbaums. And man, oh man, the lady can sing. Her melancholy singing voice is not unlike if Isabella Rosselini's dog died, and she shot up some heroin before belting out a number. Not that I've shared any needles with Isabella lately.
So it's guaranteed to be a flick with good tunes, and with Nico's heroin addiction and whatnot, a juicy role for whoever lands it. And who do I think should snag it? Sheesh, that's really tough. I'm usually so opinionated on these things, and this one has me utterly stumped. You're never going to find an actress who looks like Nico, who is one unique looking girl, so no use trying to find a doppleganger. Uma Thurman, maybe? Apple's mom? Sarah Polley? We shall see...
Related tune: These Days by Nico (mp3 via Alex)
A meaty post is coming soon, honest. But in the meantime, enjoy this commercial for Scorsesum, the headache relief preferred by four out of five psychotics on a downward spiral.
(Link via Stereogum)
Related tune: Crazy In Love by Beyonce (mp3 via hayat)
"Say I'm no Lindsay Lohan again, motherf***er! I dare ya! I double dare ya!"
Related tune: Bustin' Loose (Real Audio via bboy.com)
"To be completely truthful Kim, I question the existence of God every
single time I hear the phrase 'Oscar Winner Kim Basinger.'"
Related tune: God By Tori Amos (mp3 via muridae.org)
And this time, he's got a hoodie.
Okay, he's not THE Will Graham of Manhunter/Red Dragon fame, but isn't it odd that they would choose to give Clive Owen's character in the upcoming flick I'll Sleep When I'm Dead the same name? Then again, I guess Apple Graham wouldn't have the same ring; people would think he was a new fruity breakfast cereal or the offspring of a skinny blonde Oscar-winning actress with incredibly bad child-naming skills.
Either way, after I bitched about Clive Owen's emasculation on the King Arthur poster, I figured it only right that I point you out to the new trailer to his other movie coming out soon, I'll Sleep When I'm Dead. Forget King Arthur, this looks like the Clive Owen movie of 2004 to see.
What's not to dig? It's a revenge flick directed by Mike Hodge, and the last time he and Owen got together they made the underrated gem Croupier. Sure, there's oodles of revenge flicks out there, but this puppy looks like the real deal. The last revenge movie I've seen starring an Englishman was The Limey, and that turned out to be one of the all-time best of the genre. There's just something about an angry Brit that's custom made for these things; they make our guys like Mel Gibson and Denzel Washington look like wussies in comparison.
Plus, it's got Charlotte Ramping (I'm still incredibly bitter that she didn't get nominated for Swimming Pool) as his ex and Malcolm McDowell as the baddie. Back to Terence Stamp and the Limey for a sec, I have this theory that when a villain role like this comes up, Malcolm McDowell and Terence play a few games of rock, scissor, paper to decide who gets it. Hey, it's just a theory.
And for the record, I still very much want Mr. Owen to land the James Bond job. I'm still in shock that a British poll has Colin Firth as the people numero uno choice to play 007. Are you kidding me? The same fella who Renee said had a "giant gherkin up his arse" in Bridget Jones? The guy has barely managed to look comfortable on screen, let alone cool. If Clive lost it to, say, Ewan McGregor or Jude Law, 'twould sadden me, but if he didn't get it because they gave it to Colin Firth, I'm sticking my head in the oven. Or at least I'll whine a whole lot.
Related tune: The Seeker by The Who (mp3 via pinkart.com)
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon is a catchy title, much better than, say, The Girl Who Was Somewhat Indifferent About Dennis Eckersley. It features a "plucky" nine year old girl, so it was pretty much a given that they were going to cast Dakota Fanning when they turned it into a flick. She's pretty much cornered the market on her age group; I'm sure there's thousands of kiddie actresses of her age out there that aren't going to invite her to their birthday party.
Be forewarned, I'm about to say a couple of things that may be perceived as a bit negative about Dakota Fanning. So Dakota, sweetie, if you're reading this, go do something else you normally do. You know, like reading the New York Times Book Review or playing mahjong. Thanks, honey.
I just watched The Goodbye Girl recently, and Marsha Mason says to her kid "You were never four and a half, you were born 26." That's Dakota Fanning. Everybody seems to think she's the second coming of Jodie Foster, but call me blind...I just can't see it. She just doesn't ring true to me as being a genuine kid; she gives off that same vibe of manufactured creepy pseudo-adultness that the Jon Benets of the world do, minus the "sexuality" and whore ensembles.
Dakota's ten years old now, in three years could you possibly see her playing Iris in Taxi Driver like Jodie did at thirteen? I don't hate Dakota Fanning or anything, but she simply doesn't have the range. When Dakota wins two Best Actress Oscars, I'll fully admit I was wrong, but believe me, I won't lose sleep at night worrying about the possibility.
So, Dakota, here's your big chance to convert me. You've got George Romero directing you in an adaptation of a Stephen King book where you basically carry the whole shebang. I beg of thee, on my knees, if you have it in you, please break your streak and play the part as a plucky nine year old girl. It hinges on a kid being alone in the woods, not Michelle Pfeiffer.
Related tune: Don't Believe The Hype by Public Enemy (Real Audio via deadbeatclub.com)
I'm a Family Guy fan, and I'm the first one to say one of the best parts of the show is the pop culture references, be it the Kool Aid guy, Oompa-Loompas, or Mrs. Garrett's boobs. But there's a fine line between homage and outright theft, a lesson I learned after my failed defense of a diamond heist by claiming that it was simply an homage to Mr. Pink.
So when I saw this post on Kempa.com, it certainly made me ask "What the deuce?" Turns out there's a character in Chris Ware's comics named Jimmy Corrigan, and I'll be damned if he doesn't seem too close to comfort to Family Guy's Stewie. See for yourself, read the whole strip, which was from three years before Family Guy first aired and tell me that it doesn't reek of Stewie. I dare ya.
And you have to hand it to Chris Ware, he of the non-litigious, shrugging it off philosophy with quotes like "If I let it get the better of me, I wouldn't get any work done." He's a much better man than I. I know I'd be obsessing nonstop like Billy Crystal in Throw Momma From The Train. Eventually I'd be reduced to shambles, running through traffic and stopping cars all Kevin McCarthy-style in Invasion Of The Body Snatchers screaming about how McFarlane was a big copycat.
This is why I avoid success at all costs, so I won't have to deal with such aggravations.
Related tune: Stolen Thing by Noe Venable (mp3 via noevenable.com)
After checking out the final poster for King Arthur, I can't help but feel for my buddy Clive Owen. And by "my buddy", I mean complete stranger. But still, complete stranger or not, nobody deserves to be hosed as royally as Clive was on this poster (via Latino Review).
The Jerry Bruckheimer epic is titled King Arthur. This is not by accident since the focus of the film is, you guessed it, King Arthur. If the flick was about Guinevere, I assume they would have called it Guinevere, no? Clive Owen finally landed the role that could very well make him into a star, and who's front and center on the poster? Ms. "I look like a cross between Natalie Portman and Winona Ryder but I have the bod of a twelve year old boy" Keira Knightley in a medieval version of Milla Jovovich's outfit in 5th Element. Egad!
Hell, he's relegated to the same status of backup singer as that actor on the right, who I'll refer to as "the other guy" since 99.9% of Americans have never seen or heard of Ioan Gruffudd. Myself included. To add insult to injury, look where Keira's elbow is; it looks like when she pulls back her bow the whole way, Clive's going to an eye socket full of bony-assed elbow. I'm thankful the same marketing guys weren't hired to do the Frida poster, I'm sure they would have plopped Alfred Molina in the center with Salma Hayek and Ashley Judd on the outskirts. Bastards.
Yeah, yeah, I know, Keira Knightley is a bigger star than Clive Owen at the moment, blah blah blah. Screw that. I respected Bruckheimer for taking a risk in casting the guy best known for the BMW movies. It was a ballsy move. I just wish they had remained the same level of ballsy when it came to designing the poster, that's all.
Oh, and by the way, I'm fully aware that this post is the epitome of making a mountain out of a molehill. But I proudly go to the school of George Costanza; it doesn't take much to get me riled up sometimes. You should consider yourself lucky I don't rant about even more nonsubstantive issues, like the stickers they plaster all over previously viewed DVDs at Movie Gallery.
Because I could have written a book on that one, baby!
Related tune: Arthur's Theme by Christoper Cross (mp3 via eunmee.com)
So, I've giving it some thought, in between munching on a strawberry Pop Tart, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm okay with the (ain't it cool) news that Edward Zwick has taken over the director's chair for The Talisman. Don't get me wrong, I'm still upset that Vadim Perelman "cried wolf" (har, har) over directing and bailed; he did an aces job with his House Of Sand and Fog debut and was probably the best hope for this project.
But nothing much we can do about it now, and it's EZ's job to take the tome and run with it. Zwick actually makes a lot of sense when you think about it. He can direct the pretty epic a la Last Samurai and Legends Of The Fall, and he proved he can also do the small character studies on the small screen with Thirtysomething and Once and Again. And anybody who exec produces My So-Called Life will always have a piece of my heart. On a side note...I wonder if Jordan Catalano can read yet, or if the best he can do is the struggle through the Sunday comics, stopping to slowly sound out the words in The Boondocks.
Although, truth be told, I'm wary about the whole concept anyway. The Talisman is a 768 page behemoth; I just can't see how they're going to whittle it down to two and a half hours. This seemed like a book that was custom made to be a major HBO event miniseries, more along the lines of Angels In America. Or maybe a big steal by Showtime, to say hey, we're so much more than gay melodramas and porn. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
But the main problem with this Stephen King slash Peter Straub epic is the screenwriter. And hey, I'm sure Ehren Krueger is a wonderful human being, and this is nothing against him personally but...ummm...he's the Antichrist of screenwriters. And that's the nicest way I can put it. C'mon, the guy wrote Scream 3, Reindeer Games and Impostor and still has a job! How can there be justice in the world when Ehren Krueger is gainfully employed, and yet I forget the cover sheet on my TPS report once, and my ass is on the unemployment line?
I'm not going to say how he keeps getting the big bucks, but I suggest you rent a little movie called "Oh God, You Devil" for the answer. So let this be a lesson to all struggling screenwriters out there. If you have a desire to sell a particular invisible body part to a certain fella to obtain success, the odds are that you won't wind up with a Charlie Kaufman-type career, chock full o' respect and praise. You end up with your best movie being Arlington Road.
Related tune: King Of Pain by The Police (mp3 via bj adams)
Ummm...Lindsay? Lindsay Lohan?
Can I ask you a quick question?
No, it's not about your boobs. Honest.
Yes, I've seen your Vanity Fair picture. Lovely.
Okay, sure, you're prettier than the Olsen Twins, too. No need to be snippy.
I have no idea who Michelle Trachtenberg is. I'll take your word on it.
Yes, yes, Duff too. Can I ask my freakin' question already?
If this is tan, then what's orange?
Related tune: Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead (mp3 via despreciables.com)
I'm a pretty worldly guy, and I thought I had seen everything there was to see under the sun that had Quentin Tarantino in it, including not-so-hot titles like Girl 6 and Destiny Turns On The Radio. But my hubris was based on bed of lies; I found something new featuring QT today.
I received a strange IM from an anonymous person this morning. This wasn't unusual, I get strange IMs all the time, 'tis the hazard of putting your screenname on your website for all to see. I've had my share of bizarro messages: sexual advances with terms that I've had to look up, get-rich-quick-schemes, death threats because I don't have the script to Brown Bunny, you name it, I've gotten an IM about it. So I got this cryptic message that read "Drew. New QT. Keep it up, man." And then he sent this link. I was positive he was telling me in code that there was a new Viagra-type product and trying to get me to go to a site where I would be flooded with information on how I was undesirable because I'm flaccid. Thankfully, my suspicions were totally off-base. Well, I'm not undesirable because I'm flaccid, at least.
It turns out he was giving me the lowdown on a music video for the Leonard Cohen song "Dance Me To The End Of Love" directed by somebody named Aaron Goffman and the stars of the video are Sylvia Binsfeld (don't know her, either) and...you guessed it, Quentin Tarantino. Copyright 1995. The one name I recognize is the cinematographer, Rand Vossler. He's an old buddy of Quentin's, and co-produced Natural Born Killers. But I googled every combination of these names, and there's not a single mention I can find anywhere of this video! Strange, no? It's like in Close Encounters when they found that ship in the middle of the desert except...well, much less dramatic. But still, I love Leonard Cohen anyway, and Quentin Tarantino is indirectly responsible for me and Jen winding up together, so I think it's supercool.
The video itself is a tad dated, and features Leonard Cohen crooning his tune to the visuals of a youthful Quentin and the other chick as newlyweds in a motel. Juxtaposed with their making goo-goo eyes at each other are images of roman statues, Quentin and wifey alternately naked in a house of mirrors, a guy shackled in the rain, yadda yadda.
Sure, watching Quentin in an out-and-out love scene circa 1995 is a hair scarring, and it ain't the best video since Sledgehammer or anything, but it's still sweetness incarnate. Why? Because it came from out of nowhere, like when you find a twenty in a jacket pocket you haven't worn for years, or think that your bag of M&M's is empty, and then one more magically pops out. That M&M is twice as tasty as the others, no?
Related tune: Dance Me To The End Of Love by Leonard Cohen (mp3 via nchronis)
Oy, this is not a primo week for new Hollywood movies. I'm a firm believer that the week an Olsen Twins movie gets a wide release is the week that is obviously going to trigger the apocalypse. I've got my duct tape, flashlight, and supply of twinkies ready; I strongly advise you do likewise. But in case the world doesn't actually end until Monday, here's a roundup of the three major movies making their debut this week:
New York Minute (trailer).
First things first. I know millions of you disagree with me on this one, but...ummm...the almost-eighteen Olsen Twins are not hotties. They still have that primate quality they had as kiddies, they still have the bods of kiddies, and they reek of those 13 year olds desperately trying to look 18 by caking on the whorey makeup. You can find dozens of these types hanging around 7-11 any given Friday night trying to get older guys to buy beer for 'em. The lovely Scarlett Johansson, on the other hand, was around the same age as the Olsen twins are now when she made Lost In Translation. Let's compare: Scarlett Johannsen vs. The Olsen Twins. Case closed.
And what's with their constantly being connected at the head? Unless one of their noggins is positively charged and the other negatively charged, there's really no excuse for this cranial magnetism. If Mary Kate and Ashley want to be treated as two separate entities, they might want to consider having that surgery doctors do on Siamese twins.
Oh yeah, the movie looks hideous as well. By the way. Mr. Levy, you don't have to say yes to every movie that's offered to you. Know when to say when. After appearances in Like Mike, Dumb and Dumberer, this flick...I figure you must have forgotten. I shall never see this movie as long as I live.
Super Size Me (trailer)
This flick's getting great buzz; following the effects of eating only Mickey D's for 30 days is certainly new. I'm a Michael Moore fan, I'll make no bones about it, and this movie definitely has that renegade liberal documentary thing that works in my favor. Although, I don't see why the guy had to go and out and eat McDonald's for every meal, all the fella had to do was follow me around any given month while I was in college.
Call me naive, but I'm still a bit shocked that there are so many people taking the McDonald's side of this issue, crowing about personal responsibility and all that hoo-hah. Yes, we all choose what we eat, and I agree, lawsuits about fast food making you fat are ridiculous. But I don't see what's wrong with a reminder about how certain things are bad for you. Especially when fast food these days are trying to present themselves as a quick, healthy alternative to cooking at home.
I see it like this: everybody on the planet knows that a car crash is quite an unpleasant thing to be a part of. But in driver's ed, they always show you that movie where the kid drives too fast and winds up as bloody roadkill. Sometimes even though we know something is bad, we still need a slap in the fact to remind us of the fact. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch about. Since I can't see it theatrically, I'll rent this puppy the first day it's released on DVD.
Van Helsing (trailer)
When I saw the trailer for this one, it reminded me of a great quote that Quentin Tarantino once uttered about a Matrix sequel that went something like this:
"If I wanted computer graphics, I'd go home and stick my dick in a Nintendo."
Personally, I have no desire to see Van Helsing, nor do I have a desire to make sweet love to my game system. It's appalling that they say "From Stephen Sommers, the director of The Mummy and The Mummy 2" like it's a good thing. Why not go all out and mention that he directed Deep Rising as well? It's like trying to sell you on dating your ex-girlfriend again because she gave you syphilis and stole your tv. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, beat me to death with a tire iron.
Related tune: New York Minute by Don Henley (mp3 via smartfarmer.com)
I have to admit, after seeing the trailer, I'm really looking forward to Richard Linklater's Before Sunset starring supercute Julie Delpy and (shudder) Ethan Hawke. Needless to say, it ain't because of Ethan...does that punk even have to shave yet?
But I really do dig Before Sunrise, and since I have a loathing of Ethan, that means the flick had to work extra-hard to win me over. Richard Linklater has the knack for making movies with three-dimensional characters that you wind up truly caring about, and wouldn't mind shooting the breeze with. Cameron Crowe has a similar gift; sadly, it's a pretty small club that they belong to. So by the end of Before Sunrise, you're really hoping that they both honor their pledge and meet back up in six months, barring any renegade crippling taxis.
Back to the Before Sunset trailer. Turns out that even though it seemed impossible that this couple didn't hook back up in the aforementioned six months post-Before Sunrise, that's exactly what happened. Nine years have passed before they're reunited. Why, oh why? I immediately conjured up a theory that she was counting the days 'til their meetup and to kill the time, she read Ash Wednesday and saw Chelsea Walls and thought "Oh, crap! This guy is a pretentious hack! No way, no day am I hooking back up with him!"
But then I remembered that this is only a movie, and after seeing them interact again, the trailer lured me right back into hoping that they wind up together this time. Linklater, you clever bastard. They've got chemistry, those two. Also, the trailer uses the perfect song to evoke mushy feelings: Ivy's Edge Of The Ocean. It's as if the lyrics were custom-written for this flick:
Ohhh, we can begin again.
Shed our skin, let the sun shine in.
At the edge of the ocean
We can start over again.
Linklater has hinted that he wants to revisit these two again, and that sounds peachy-keen to me. Hey, it would be frightening/mesmerizing if he let them morph into a Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf sort of couple in the one after this, Delpy turning into a boozewhore, Ethan bellowing "Queen of the Harpies! Queen Of The Harpies!" This is why Linklater doesn't let me pitch scripts to him.
Related tune: Edge Of The Ocean by Ivy (mp3 via thebandivy.com)
So sayeth Steve Buscemi as Seymour, hero extraordinaire of Ghost World. Well, I can certain relate to this news from Coming Soon: Steve Buscemi will be making an uncredited cameo in Art School Confidential. What's Art School Confidential, you ask? Well, Johnny, it's only the next Terry Zwigoff movie adapted from a Dan Clowes graphic novel.
Terry Zwigoff. Dan Clowes. Steve Buscemi. Last time they all got together, they made a little movie called Ghost World, which, as well all know, was the finest adaptation of a "comic book" ever put onto the big screen. Yeah, you heard me Judge Dredd. Wouldn't it be supercool if Buscemi was actually playing Seymour in this new flick? I can only keep my fingers crossed.
Top 3 Seymour Lines from Ghost World
What are we, in slow motion here?! What are ya, hypnotized? Have some more kids, why don't you? For Christ's sake, would you move!?
Yeah, well it's simple for everybody else - give 'em a Big Mac and a pair of Nikes and they're happy! I just can't relate to 99.9% of humanity.
Let the machine get it. I have no desire to talk to anyone who would be calling me...
Ghost World's Seymour, the philosopher king.
Related tune: Jaan Pehechaan Ho by Mohammed Rafi (mp3 via Near And Far)
Remember how last month there was a story about how Netflix was going to offer movie downloads? I'm relatively confident that this ain't it.
I'm not quite sure why a person would take movies like Scarface, Pulp Fiction, A Clockwork Orange, and Fight Club and turn them into bite-sized sensory overloads, but it's masochistic fun to watch to see how long you can stand it before your brain turns to silly putty. Sort of like watching TRL. Perhaps this is the closest we can ever get to experiencing what watching a movie might look like from Courtney Love's perspective.
Actually, you know what it sort of reminds me of? When I was but a wee lad, the love of my life was Atari. Long story short, when I finally beat Pitfall after an unmentionable number of hours, I leapt up in triumph, spilling Strawberry Quik all over my Canyon Bomber cartridge. When I tried to play said newly pink Canyon Bomber, the colors were all flashy and bad-trip kooky; it looked not unlike these movies. I'm just sayin'.
Oh, credit where credit is due, found the link via Kottke.
Related tune: Pac-Man Fever by Buckner & Garcia (Real Audio via Raven)
Or in English: Hey, I completely missed that the 2004 Webby nominations have been announced! Is it just me, or does the award look eerily similar to Homer Simpson's olympic mascot Springy, The Olympic Spring? You know, way back in 2000, yours truly was a Webby nominee for his Rama-O-Scripts.
This is one of those facts I tend to frequenly point out to everybody from family, friends, and co-workers to shoe salesmen and probation officers. I recently got pulled over for speeding, and as I opened my mouth to defend my Billy Joel-esque driving, the cop said "If you tell me about your Webby nomination one more time, I swear to freakin' God, I'm going Bad Lieutenant on your ass." Webby nominees be forewarned, your honor will be of no use when it comes to impressing the men and ladies in blue.
I'll never really ever figure out the heck I got nominated, considering I was up against some unknown sites that you probably haven't heard of like something called the Internet Movie Database and ifilm.com. I suspect I didn't get a single vote, considering even my own mother voted for the IMDB. When I asked her about it, I believe she said "Are you kidding me? It's the IMDB!" Providing the script to Little Nicky does not a Drew's mommy impress.
But being a dedicated annual voter, I checked out this year's nominees to see who should receive my oh-so mighty and influental vote in the film category. Needless to say, I was uber-disappointed to see that two of the nominees, Sundance Online Film Fest and Dogville have taken their fancy sites down and have replaced them with weak placeholders instead. That ain't the path to glory, fellas. So that leaves Spellbound, The Dreamers, and The Fog Of War. None of these sites come close to old favorites like Donnie Darko and Requiem For A Dream, but be that as it may, Fog Of War earned my vote. It's got the perfect combo of aesthestics and info that's right up my alley, plus any site with a structure not unlike a See 'n Say earns a special place in my heart. The McNamara says "OOOOOOOOPS."
And my dream has come true since I found the Weird category's A Portrait Of You With Stevie Nicks. I've got the perfect portrait in my head, me standing there on stage with Stevie, with matching flowing black numbers, wind blowing through our hair (naturally), while belting out Stop Dragging My Heart Around. C'mon, that's way better than wasting my dough with a picture of Stevie staring up at the heavens with my cat.
To my dismay, Jen won't let me pony up the $500 to turn this dream into reality. But she'll have her comeuppance once some cash-starved artist comes up with a "Portrait of You With Billy Crudup" site. Muahahaha!
Related tune: Stop Draggin' My Heart Around by Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty (mp3 via all about pam)
| Drew's Blog-O-Rama:
Obviously, I'm not trying to re-invent the movie blog wheel here. I'm just never lacking in opinions about movies, pop culture, news, and other assorted hoohah. And my mailman has put a restraining order on me, so here's my place to vent.
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