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Remember when Angelina Jolie used to be attractive? I'm simply dumbstruck that most of the people who see the above picture say something to effect of "hubba hubba" when they should be saying something like "Eeeeeek! Get thee to a Hardee's!" The girl needs a culinary intervention, pronto. Don't get me wrong, if she always had that body type, a la Keira Knightley, it would be a whole different ballgame. But look at her thigh in that pic (via Yahoo), and then recall what it used to look like here...these days she could audition for the sequel to Team America: World Police. Please Angelina, go eat some rotisserie chicken with Brittany Murphy.
And while my cup runneth over with honesty, how about making a movie where you actually have to act? Do you and Ashley Judd have some sort of running bet to see who can piss away their talents in a more grandiose fashion? You're tearing me apart!
Oh, and the Mrs. And Mrs. Trailer (here) leaves me uninspired as well. It's like somebody pitched a True Lies sequel and with the lure of "What if they were BOTH secretly spies?" Snore. It saddens me that director Doug Liman started out with inspired flicks like Swingers and Go and is now becoming a token action director with Bourne and this flick. We don't need any more Renny Harlins, thank you very much.
Related tune: Legs by ZZ Top (mp3 via test57)
By me, at least.
As you must know by now, Julia Roberts went and gave birth to those twins she's been lugging around for a while. And at least one of them might have chosen stay in utero if he had been made aware of his upcoming moniker. The girl's name, Hazel, I don't have a problem with. I've never personally known a Hazel that wasn't a member of the AARP, but hey, I'm sure they're out there.
But branding that poor, innocent boy the name of Phinnaeus...to quote Coburn in Payback, "Man, that's just mean! That's mean, man!" It's gotta be considered child abuse in some states; I'm calling Gloria Allred.
Besides, if she wanted her son to be beat up in school so badly, she should've just listened to Kevin McAllister's advice and sent him to school in a sweater with a duck knitted on it.
But don't forget Julia, no reneging on your promise to me or I'll send Tommy Lee over to babysit.
Related tune: Born To Lose by Ray Charles (Real Audio via Terrificmusic.com)
That AFLAC duck is a dirty whore.
Would Meryl Streep really have signed on the Lemony Snicket movie if she had been made aware that she would have the devil incarnate AFLAC duck as a co-star?
Then again, working with the bastard water fowl may still be slightly less humiliating than working with Roseanne.
You can probably tell that I have a special hatred for this dastardly duck. Obviously, the commercials are incredibly grating; I'd have to think that duck would be "a l'orange" pretty quickly in the real world for the constant interruption and one-word vocabulary. And getting beaten over the head with a word ain't gonna make me use your services, bub. For me, it had quite the opposite effect. When I was called into human resources a few months ago and asked "Would you like to sign up for AFLAC?", I screamed, burst into tears, covered my ears and ran the hell outta there quicker than Tara Reid at an intervention. I believe HR marked my response as "no."
Admittedly, it's not just the commercials that spawn my primal loathing. You see, I have a co-worker that has a plush AFLAC duck and when you squeeze it hollers "AFLAAAAAAC" over and over. Which, maybe, MAYBE, is somewhat amusing the first time you hear it. But people squeeze more than once. A lot. Every day. You cannot possibly imagine the sheer creativity in the countless ways that I have envisioned this duck's demise in my head.
I think I'll have Jen watch the movie before I do as a preventative measure so she can cover my eyes and ears when the dreaded scene arrives. I have no idea how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, and I have no idea how many times I have to bear witness to this damned duck before I have a complete nervous breakdown.
Related tune: Enough is Enough by Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand (Windows Media via cdzlimited.org)
So, it seems that when Kate Bosworth was up for the Sandra Dee role in Beyond The Sea, she "didn't know who Bobby Darin was," according to ET.
Even worse, when she was told Kevin Spacey would not only be playing the Darin role but directing the film as well, she responded "Who's Kevin Spacey?"
Okay, so I made up that last part. But c'mon, I knew who Bobby Darin was when I was 20, and it was way past his time by then. It reminded me of this person who shall remain anonymous that IM'd me the other day asking something about the Nightmare Before Christmas script, and she was saying how much they loved Tim Burton and Danny Elfman's singing in the flick. I said how I dug him back in the Oingo Boingo days, too. Perplexed, she asked, "What the heck is an Oingo Boingo?" I tried to jog her memory with Weird Science, Dead Man's Party...she still hadn't a clue.
I cried.
Well...I felt really old at that moment, anyway. Is Oingo Boingo going to fade away completely once teenagers from the 80's are dead? Will anybody remember that Sarah Jessica Parker used to be a dweeb on tv? Wherefore art thou, Mindy Cohn? Perhaps it's time to teach pop culture in the schools. Because when it comes to crucial matters such as El Debarge and T.K. Carter, no child should be left behind.
Related tune: Dead Man's Party by Oingo Boingo (Real Audio via music.deadbeatclub.com)
Listen to Verbal Kint: "You think you can catch Keyser Soze? You think a guy like that comes this close to getting caught, and sticks his head out? If he comes up for anything it'll be to get rid of me. After that... my guess is you'll never hear from him again."
I hope to God he's right. Because according to an interview (via Moviehole), Chazz Palminteri has recently said the following about a Usual Suspects sequel: "They're past the talking about it stage. I'm looking forward to it. The title they like is Searching For Keyser Soze."
I'll probably sh*t blood tonight.
Oh yeah, don't read past this point if you haven't seen The Usual Suspects yet. In fact, if you haven't seen it yet, get your ass to the video store right now and pick it up. I mean it. Scram!
Ummm...what would possibly be the point doing a sequel? The element that made the movie unique was the "Who is Keyser Soze?" thing, and everybody on the planet knows the answer by now. Not to mention the teensy-weensy problem that he killed all the other usual suspects. Palminteri's character lived, so it makes sense he'd feel glee about the potential for a sequel.
After all, Noel (Chazz directed) currently has a zero on Rotten Tomatoes. And the guy hasn't been in a good movie since Hurlyburly, and that was '98. Which is sad really, since he was perfect in that flick, and had what looked to be a promising career back in the Bronx Tale/Bullets Over Broadway days.
But I'm positive that Spacey wouldn't star in it and that Bryan Singer wouldn't do it. Not inside info or anything, but it wouldn't make any sense for them to do it. If both of them had failing careers, it would be logical. But Singer can choose any project he wants after the X-Men success and is about to direct Superman. And Spacey's getting great reviews for Beyond The Sea, is loving doing theater, and is about to get a big paycheck to be Lex Luthor. There's absolutely no reason for them to go back to the well. So a Usual Suspects 2 where the mystery is gone and with the two best parts of the original splitsville is not a movie that gets me enthused in the least.
To mangle something my pal Verbal once uttered, "Keaton always said, 'I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him.' Well I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is a Usual Suspects sequel."
Related tune: Stop Draggin' My Heart Around by Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty (mp3 via cdharris.net)
Watch this trailer (Quicktime) for Vin's new family comedy The Pacifier, and tell me that you have still have a shred of respect for Vin Diesel. I dare ya. I double dog dare ya. I would sooner pay money to see that "divine" freakin' sandwich than I would to see Vin Diesel whore out his last shred of dignity in this cinematic crime against humanity. Boy, having a "tough guy" do a family comedy with children is such a brand new concept! And it's directed by the guy who did Bringing Down The House, so you just know it's going to be incredibly subtle!
In about two minutes of trailer, there are three, count 'em, three different baby fart/crap gags, culminating in Mr. Diesel pulling out a poopy diaper right as the narrator says "duty calls."
Duty calls. Vin with diaper con doody.
If I had a sharp object on my person at that particular moment, your beloved Drew probably wouldn't be writing this right now. But I learned long ago never to watch trailers while in the vicinity of any potentially lethal weapons. I call it my Soul Man rule.
Maybe I'm just being an elitist snob. There must be some sort of market for action guys doing the PG kiddie fare, or else they wouldn't keep making 'em. Somebody's gotta be buying Kindergarten Cop and Disney's The Kid, right? I have a sneaking suspicion they're the same people who send me e-mail forwards swearing that if I forward their e-mail to nine other people, I'll get a $50 gift certificate to Applebee's.
But hey, watching these types of movies or sending out forwards for financial gain do share a common end result - excruciating pain followed by the eventual ponderance of "What the hell was I thinking?"
Related tune: Haven't Got Time For The Pain by Carly Simon (Real Audio via terrificmusic.com
Okay, Walter Hill isn't dead per se but if you look at his IMDB filmography, he ain't exactly been alive either if you get my drift. I've had a quite a few people ask me what I think of this upcoming remake of The Warriors, and I always reply with "The Patty Smyth rendition will always be #1 in my heart."
This has led to my being on the receiving end of many near-fatal beatings.
Seriously though, it'll be a serious uphill climb to for a The Warriors redux to work. First off, the original was gritty and almost surreal in its execution. After all, I used to live in New York, but I never did come across any whupass mimes or gussied-up bat wielding psychopaths. Perhaps I run with the wrong crowd.
But anyway, the new director Tony Scott is the exact opposite of gritty; his movies are slicker than Michael Douglas' hair in Wall Street. Also, according to HSX this one is going to feature "martial arts action rather than traditional street gangland warfare."
Say what?
It's a movie about gangland warfare, you fools! There are literally a gazillion martial arts action flicks, and only a handful of good old-fashioned gang movies using switchblades, chains, pipes, bottles and other assorted weapons that require no formal training. And no, I don't count any movie with singing and dancing with truckloads of subtext as a true gang movie, for the record.
So yeah, needless to say I've got some hesitation about this one. On the other hand, Tony Scott has never really made an unwatchable film, so here's to hoping he keeps his streak alive. And Tony, since I know you're an avid reader of this blog...how about Vincent Gallo as Luther? Who better to play the epitome of creepy and insane than Mr. Gallo, I ask you?
And regardless of how this new flick winds up being, did you see they're making a set of The Warriors action figures? The 1979 version, natch. It truly warms my heart to think of some kid out there playing with a Luther action figure, taunting Barbie with his repetitive cry of "Baaaaaaaarbie! Come out to plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!"
Related tune: The Warrior By Scandal (Real Audio via deadbeatclub.com)
Being the jaded soul that I am, I was pretty damned surprised when I found out (via IMDB) that Brad Pitt was recently offered the chance to be on Inside The Actors Studio but turned it down because he didn't have a "sufficient body of work." Even more shocking is that I disagree with Mr. Aniston.
Well...if we're talking 21st century movies, he's absolutely correct to want to hide from his record. I mean, what can he really say about movies such as Sinbad, The Mexican, and Troy except for repeating "I'm sorry" over and over again? When you've become the punch line in a Shania Twain song, it's time to seriously reconsider your career direction, Mr. Wussy Tendon.
But if we're talking 20th century movies, the 90's in particular, then he's dead wrong. The 90's were more than sufficient; for my money the man was 6 of the best movies of the 90's including Thelma And Louise, Kalifornia, True Romance, Seven, 12 Monkeys, and Fight Club. Most actors will never be able to compile a resume with movies like those no matter no long they work. Just ask Jen Tilly.
Besides, since when was having a sufficient body of work a prerequisite for being on Inside The Actors Studio? Because really, guests like Billy Joel and Jay Leno are the true embodiments of acting. And I could hardly sleep at nights until I knew how Mark Wahlberg researches a role, y'know? Everybody knows James Lipton will put his sycophantic lips on anybody's ass these days; I'm sure Paul Walker will soon get an invite and discuss the nuances of homoerotic street racing.
But Brad and James, even though you both have arguably jumped the shark, there is still hope. Brad, go back to making dark movies with directors like Fincher and Gilliam. If somebody offers you a movie whose title begins with "Oceans", run like hell. As for Inside The Actors Studio...just show more restraint when it comes to booking. To use the aforementioned Mr. Pitt for an analogy, just because somebody's got a library card doesn't mean they're Yoda. And just because somebody's in a movie doesn't mean they're an actor.
Related tune: Shop Around by Smokey Robinson And The Miracles (Real Audio via Soulclub.org)
Robin Williams to Return as Mrs. Doubtfire! 
Related tune: King Of Pain by The Police (mp3 via concord.edu)
This is a valuable lesson that someone near and dear once taught me. And by near I mean far, and by dear I mean loathed. But there's some people who swing on by the blog who have no idea that I've had a free movie script site up for nine, count 'em, nine years. And people say men can't commit.
Anyway, my point is that I think I'll give you guys a l'il pointer when groovy new scripts come my way as to keep you in the know. The good stuff; I'll leave you blissfully ignorant when I pop up links to scripts like Rhinestone Cowboy or Anacondas 2: The Hunt For DVD Revenue. And if you're not interested in screenplays, just skip over these posts while muttering "Yeah, yeah, get to the Zellweger bashing, you shameless bastard."
So yesterday the new free script-du-jour was Collateral (check it out), which was a solid character study/thriller that I liked much more than I thought I would. I used to mock Michael Mann back in his schlocky Miami Vice/Manhunter days, but he's really turned it around with Heat, The Insider, and now Collateral. Ali wasn't the bee's knees, but it was still watchable. If somebody gave the man an editor, he could win an Oscar one day.
Speaking of, one of the reasons that I'm confident that Jamie Foxx is going to snag the Oscar this year is because of Collateral, I'll have you know. Yes, he was superb as Ray, and I agree, Oscar voters are only supposed to vote on the nominated performance. But I'm sure that Academy members will also have Foxx's sublime Collateral performance in their back of their minds as well. He's had one hell of a year and deserves the awards he'll certainly receive. Cruise was swell with his William Petersen 'do, too. And Javier Bardem sneaks in with a killer cameo and delivers a Christmas speech (which is on page 72) which is on-par with the great Walken monologues.
Oddly enough, the IMDB lists only Stuart Beattie with the writing credit, but Frank Darabont and Michael Mann also put their touches on it as well...the revisions on this puppy are a mile long and all the colors of the rainbow. There's a good story about the development of the screenplay over here. So in the immortal words of the always smilin' Notorious BIG, if you don't know, now you know.
Related tune: I'm Your Late Night Evening Prostitute by Tom Waits(Windows Media via cdzlimited.org)
It takes brass balls. But if you have a love for both David Mamet and 2001 (and really, what self-respecting movie buff doesn't?) you'll dig reading the brief but witty Dave, Dammit by Heaneyland's Francis Heaney. The man had a brilliant idea to write a book with the concept "What if playwrights wrote plays whose titles were anagrams of their names?" So David Mamet becomes Dave, Dammit. Call it a hunch, but methinks the fella is a Jeopardy fan. Anyhoo, here's a quote from Hal to whet your whistle and give you a feel for what happens when you make a 2001/Mamet smoothie:
Hal: You put my memory back right now, motherf__ker. You hear me? You want a card on your birthday? Because I don't think I will remember to send you one if I do not have my memory cards. As that is what memory cards are for. Are you listening to me?
It's really the kind of the thing that I get incredibly envious of after reading and think "Hey! Why the heck didn't I do that??" Thankfully, I always quickly remember that I lack...what's that word...tip of my tongue...
Oh yeah! Talent! As The Dude would say, "This is a bummer, man."
Heaney also did the same thing with poets like T.S. Eliot (Toilets) and Emily Dickinson (Skinny Domicile), which I'm sure are equally as clever. But I ain't nearly well-versed enough in that city-slicker mumbo jumbo in order to truly appreciate those. If you're one of those fancy-schmancy "literate" types, you can see 'em all here. Oh, and I tip my hat to radosh.net for the heads-up.
Related tune: The Glengarry Mix (Always Be Closing) by BennyN (mp3 via theglengarrymix.com)
It seems nobody else has the cojones will tell you tell this, so I shall be the bearer of bad news. You, James Cameron, have an compulsion with the ocean and you desperately need help. If I were in the same room with you, I'd give ya a Cher-like slap . But since you're most likely underwater, I shall have to deliver the aforementioned slap in written form. Before I get down to the brass tacks, let's get the textbook definition of compulsion out the way, shall we? According to The American Heritage Dictionary, here's the exact meaning:
com·pul·sion ( k&m-'p&l-sh&n)
n.
An uncontrollable impulse to perform an act, often repetitively, as an unconscious mechanism to avoid unacceptable ideas and desires which, by themselves, arouse anxiety.
Does this sounds familiar, Jim? In 1997, you made Titanic, a movie about a ship from long ago that sunk in the ocean. It was the biggest movie of all time, whomped at the Academy Awards, yadda yadda. You were the "king of the world" as it were, and could have made any movie you wanted to after that. So what was the next full length movie you made? You waited five years and then made Expedition: Bismarck, a documentary about a ship from long ago that sunk in the ocean.
Way to expand your horizon there, James.
Next you made Ghosts of the Abyss, a documentary which consisted of a journey to the ocean to visit (big shocker coming) the wreckage of the Titanic.
Starting to see a pattern here?
And then the kicker, I found out today that your new movie coming out in 2005 is Aliens Of The Deep. Which...ummm...is a documentary that studies underwater life in the ocean. Yeah, yeah, there's no sunken boat this time, but there is the ever-present ocean.
Snap out of it, Cameron!
Don't me wrong, a James Cameron movie about things on and in the ocean has the potential to be interesting. Once or twice. After that, you're like one of those people who can't ever leave the house because an irrational fear that you left the oven on.
The oven's off, Jim. Come outside. There's lots of interesting subjects to make movies about that don't have a single iota of the ocean in them. I promise. I know this because you used to make them. You're afraid you're not going to match Titanic's success? You're right. Perhaps nobody ever will, which means you're off the hook. So, I beg of you, please make sure your next movie not involve does not involve a large body of water. Because dammit Jim, you're a director, not an oceanographer.
Related tune: Edge Of The Ocean by Ivy (mp3 via thebandivy.com)
Ah, what's more fun than feuds between C-list celebrities, I ask you? Whilst bagel-noshing this morning, I came across the news (via MSNBC) that Jim Belushi has sued Julie Newmar for a tidy sum of four million bucks. Holy frivolous lawsuit, Batman! She's being accused of a campaign of harassment that includes playing loud music directed as his backyard and making defamatory statements about him to friends and neighbors.
I think I speak for everybody when I say...Julie Newmar is still alive!?
But seriously, if I won a few million dead presidents every time one of my neighbors talked smack about me or played godawful music at a non-appreciated volume I'd be richer than the Monopoly guy by now. But besides that, even if it's true, could you really blame her? I mean, would you want to have Jim Belushi as your neighbor?
The guy plummeted from an obnoxious no-talent ass-clown who headlined countless excruciating comedies in the 80's to a an obnoxious no-talent ass-clown who looks more and more like Steven Seagal while headlining bland ABC comedies and piling up countless straight-to-video fecal matter. Did you know he actually made a sequel to K-9 in 2002? Talk about the quintessential dog returning to his own vomit!
So, Jim suing anybody for defamation of character? Please. The guy's been defaming his own character for over twenty years now; no assistance from outside world was necessary. Julie, even if you don't continue your non-violent protest of what I like to picture as standing in front of Jim's house while holding up a boombox playing Taking Care Of Business on an endless loop to get rid of the lesser Belushi, you'll still have my neverending respect embarking on this Gandhi-esque protest.
Related tune: There Goes The Neighborhood by Sheryl Crow (Windows Media via cdzlimited.org)
| 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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