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?
capote
seymour hoffman shines
as the writer whose voice sounds
just like droopy dog
greatest game ever played
golfing gagfest shows
shia vs. holes, part deux
i'll rent caddyshack
into the blue
jessie alba dons
bikini for two hours
guaranteed 10 mill
prize winner of defiance, ohio
julianne moore plays
50's housewife (gasp!) who pens
annoying jingles
serenity
firefly returns
cuz millions of geeks chanted
serenity now
Everybody's got a theory about why people aren't going to the movies as much anymore. Well, not to toot my own horn, but all of them are dead wrong. I, dear reader, shall enlighten you as to why people are staying at home and avoiding the movie theater like the plague. Nope, it ain't the freaky sheepboys, the excruciating Jamster, the tired product, the ridiculous prices, or even the children.
Who's to blame, then?
The Weather Man.
Every time I have gone to the movie theater for over a year I have seen the trailer to this godforsaken Nic Cage movie. And I go to the movies a lot. Through no desire of my own I can now recite the entire trailer from memory now; a lovely trick that has gotten me banned from the break room, public transportation, and even my own synagogue no longer welcomes me with open arms because I have a Rain Man-like tendency to spout things like "Why would people throw things at you? You just read the weather."
The last time I went to the movies, by the time this l'homme du weather got winged with the chicken nuggets I went into convulsions and had to be dragged from the theater while loudly pleading with Nic Cage not to forget the tartar sauce this time around. He still forgot.
That's why I don't go to the movies anymore. It's why you go to the movies less, even if you didn't know that was the reason. Sure, you think it's because you can't find a babysitter, or because having to choose between Just Like Heaven and The Skeleton Key ain't no choice at all. But it's The Weather Man trailer. Deep down in your brain, you know that Michael Caine is just waiting for you at the cineplex, dying to wax philosophically that doing the hardest thing and doing the right thing is often the same thing.
On a wholly unrelated note: there's some fine Crash reading over at the Rama.
Related tune: The Passenger by Iggy Pop (after 3 days, it'll go bye-bye)
Boy, not only has the muse not inspired me lately, but I think she may have ran off to Mexico and stolen my prize collection of snowballs to boot. But I did update a rama today, it just happens to be of the "script-o" sort instead of the "blog-o" variety. Speaking of rama, did you know I'm the #2 Google hit for word, eclipsed only by Casino Rama, which appears to be an aboriginally owned gaming facility? You know, if I ran an aboriginally owned casino, I'd hire Jenny Agutter to be the hostess. Or if that slot was taken, she could at least be the official nurse.
Anyway, since I'm blog-deficient at the moment, I figured I would just cut and paste what I put on my "What's New?" page today How's that for a complete package of both sloth and whore?
WHAT'S NEW? (9/22/05)
I get lots of e-mails with complaints. Complaints like "Why don't you update more, you lazy bastard?" or "The script for ____ is WRONG, dumbass. I watched the movie 18 times, and he definitely says 'I wuv you', not I love you" or "Hey Drew, why the utter lack of homoerotic biker flicks from the 50's? Do you have something against scripts that feature men with adorable caps adorned in leather?"
Well, not much I can do about the first two gripes. But at long last the quintessential homoerotic biker movie script has turned up, so at least I can do the whole Earl thing and check that one off the list.
Check out The Wild One script over here.
Related tune: Wild World by Cat Stevens (mp3 via darkhouse)
I just finished watching the new Where The Truth Lies Trailer (Quicktime/boobies) and I officially have to disagree with Spike Lee's recent claim that there's no originality left in Hollywood. Personally, I can't recall a movie in recent history in which a dysfunctional Martin And Lewis-type duo (Colin Firth and Kevin Bacon) share their women (Rachel Blanchard and Alison Lohman), their murders, (possibly) and a dash of man love for good measure.
If this movie were directed by say, Zalman King, I'd have no interest in the flick whatsoever outside of morbid curiosity if I happened to come across it on Cinemax at 3:45 a.m. But this puppy is directed by Atom Egoyan, who is pretty much the master these days of...umm..."untraditional" relationships and death, so I'll be all over this flick. Except of course, that it's rated NC-17 since the prudish MPAA is not such a big fan of Darcy/Cher-lite sandwiches with an extra order of Bacon. And since I live in the sticks, that means I'll be able to Netflick it sometime in the middle of 2006. Boy, if I were king, the first thing I'd do is get rid of the stigma that comes with NC-17 art flicks. And then I'd have Edward Burns held at Guantanamo eternally to spare the world the agony of any more of his films.
It's good to be the king.
Related tune: Bizarre Love Triangle (mp3 via Baruch College)
| 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.
|
||
| techie stuff | ||
  
rss feed atom feed | The Archive | |
|
the main page december 2005 november 2005 october 2005 september 2005 august 2005 july 2005 june 2005 may 2005 april 2005 march 2005 feburary 2005 january 2005 december 2004 november 2004 october 2004 september 2004 august 2004 july 2004 june 2004 may 2004 april 2004 march 2004 february 2004 january 2004 december 2003 november 2003 october 2003 september 2003 |
Get outta here, already. | |
|
drew's script-o-rama email me aol im: scriptorama |
Blogs I Dig | |
| ||