SALT LAKE CITY – Screw Sundance!!!!
After being told that Moving Midway was a sure pick for the upcoming festival, we got Michiganed! The rejection notice arrived on Monday. And the tears flowed from my eyes. It was sad that Godfrey Cheshire wouldn’t be able to complete his transformation from film reviewer to filmmaker by holding up the Grand Prize from Robert Redford. This was his movie. He fought his hardest to keep this pure to his vision no matter what others told him. And now he has been told by Sundance – we don’t need to show that in our festival.
What is getting shown instead of the Cheshire family home moving movie? A documentary about a guy who died when he let a horse cornhole him. Yep. We lost out to a Kentucky Derby tribute to Oz.
This was going to be my year. I already had 2007 circled as the year I become the new Kevin Federline. I had already bought a pair of snow boots. But now it’s all off. Redford won’t return my calls. No elk hunting. No skiing. No back massages from Thora Birch. No calling him, Bob. I was going to be an indie superstar and now all January holds for me watching a guy get an award for the evils of horse sex. Who did this to me? There’s only one person I can blame: Godfrey Cheshire.
It was his movie. He told us that all the time. What happened to this man’s genius? Here’s a guy who has reviewed thousands of movies. How if given a chance to finally tell his cinematic story did he crap out to a horse screwing a man to death? Maybe he could enter it in a festival that has a “no animals banging humans” policy.
I look like the idiot praising Godfrey and his film. I’m sorry, global readers. I promise that next time I produce a film, it’s with someone who can deliver the goods. If I knew what the competition was like, I would have done a reshoot by rubbing Crisco on my butt and hooking up with the horse that played Sea Biscuit. Sure it would have looked out of place, but you’d remember it. Cause I’m driven for success!
BLOWIN’ UP WITH BOURDAIN
Have I not pointed out that the best “reality show” episode of the year was Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations when the chef found himself stuck in Beirut during the period the Israelis bombed the town. It was the Graham Greene experience as Bourdain and is crew sat by a hotel pool watching the missiles explode on buildings below.
When I first encountered Bourdain on the Food Channel. I watched three minutes, took a dislike to the guy and turned off the show. He struck me as an egotistical prick. But when I saw a promo for his Beirut adventure, I wanted to see what happens when a food show turns into a combat photography crew.
Bourdain’s journey which started out with joyful nightlife and ended with him being evacuated on a beach was amazing. The only thing it lacked to be a true Graham Greene experience is a failed torrid romance. After watching the show, I grabbed the library card and picked up Kitchen Confidential and A Cook’s Tour. Both books were devoured like courses at the French Laundry. He doesn’t brag that he’s the greatest chef in America. He’s quick to mention current chefs that he holds in esteem.
After reading the books, I felt relieved that I had never entered the food service industry. The baseball legend Stan Musuel once said that the secret to making a million dollars in the restaurant business is to start with two million dollars. Bourdain confirmed that it’s a nasty business. Also working the kitchen was a great way to have you hands lose that Palmolive smoothness.
On my list of things to do: Drink booze with Bourdain and jabber about Simpsons episodes. I’d wear an onion in my belt and bring twelve pounds of nutmeg as a gift.
SLAP ‘EM HARDER
Does My Super Sweet 16 collect the most conceited bunch of teenage girls in the history of television? How can a girl pick out an SUV because it matches her sunglasses. Or think their dad can book Green Day for their birthday party. The best was the girl who wanted Eminem. The guy hasn’t toured in a few years and he’s going to make a comeback for your bitchfest? Maybe you can get D-12 for $75K. Do these gals understand the value of a dollar? Of course not. Although in a few years, they’ll be keeping track of twenties as they find themselves being videotaped by Brent Owens at the Point.
I want to have MTV rework this show so that on the morning of their birthday, these girls and their best friends all get jetted out to Iraq so they can “party” in Baghdad. Give ’em a bag of goodies, a map and best wishes for them to make it to the Green Zone.
BAG ‘EM, SANTA
If you only get one freakish holiday film this year, let it be Santa’s Slay. Basically it tells the story of how Santa went bad and slaughters everyone. Wrestling great Goldberg plays homicidal St. Nick. The opening scene alone is worth the rental as he butchers a family dinner including Chris Kattan and James Caan. It’s a short film so it mixes well with egg nogg.
GREEN NO MORE
It’s disgusting to see Rolling Rock beer ads that link the formerly fine green glass to St. Louis. Even more pathetic is knowing that instead of being brewed in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, the folks at Budweiser are making it in Newark, New Jersey. Is that a hint of jet fuel run off that I’m now tasting? Or is it merely the subtle decomposition of a former Tony Soprano business associate?
Rolling Rock, you no longer are a welcome guest in my fridge. Thanks for killing the joy, Budweiser dorks.
KRAMER RANT
The war on Festivus is on. Seems that a lot of people are angry that Festivus has passed Kwanza as America’s favorite 20th century winter holiday. So now they’ve blown out Michael Richards’ meltdown as to a reason to boycott anything Seinfeld related. As we all know, this is a major blow since Seinfeld was second only to Scarface in influencing rappers.
What’s worse is that now I’m unsure if it’s OK to invite minorities to my annual Festivus party. Is it now as wrong as inviting them to a cross burning with the BYO Marshmallows notice? Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton were on my invite list.
Let us keep Festivus as Festivus. We need to remember that it’s about Kramer and not Michael Richards. Although it is important to note that Michael Richards should be the guest of honor at every Festivus celebration. During the Airing of Grievances, it’s pretty easy to state how he disappointed us this season.
Is John Gibson going to help me protect Festivus?
WHAT’S ON TV NOW?
With The Wire, Dexter and Nip/Tuck all coming to the end of their short seasons, what will I be watching in January? Probably have to get drunk and watch American Idol with Mrs. Corey. Hopefully this season some kid will perform “Pac-Man Fever.”
SATURDAY MORNING FUN BLITZ
If you’re looking for gifts for folks who grew up in the 70s, you should dip into vintage Saturday morning shows that are now out on DVD. Groovie Goolies: Saturday Mourning Collection has all the episodes of this monsters meets Laugh-In series. Nothing too scary for the kids with Drac, Frankie and Wolfie telling goofy jokes and rockin’ out. Return to the Planet of the Apes collects all 13 episodes of this spin off of monkeys ruling the world. The show is much better than the live action TV series. Star Trek: The Animated Series finally lets me see this painted show that features the voice of Shatner and Nimoy. Why does this series get hidden in the closet and spited by Klingon speaking goofs? It’s perhaps one of the best written Saturday morning shows. Well it’s better than Goober and the Ghost Chasers.
As far as finishing up series, the fifth (and final) DVD of Speed Racer is out. I feel bad for kids hooked on Bob the Builder since they don’t know what making the Mach 5 is all about. Also the second half of Ultraman reminds us of that time when men in rubber monster suits ruled our universe.
Plus there’s Ark II a twisted live action show about a group of scientists roaming the post-apocalypse earth in a giant van to help out people. The scientists look like they escaped a porn set. Plus they have a talking monkey. Get it now.
With such wonders on DVD, you might actually wake up on Saturday morning to enjoy them properly with a bowl of Frankenberry.
COME ON DOWN!
Is Nigel Barker on America’s Next Top Model the secret love child of Bob Barker? He seems to have the Price Is Right legend’s smile and last name.
Have I already declared that Todd Newton (formerly of E! fame) is going to replace Bob when Barker retires? Newton’s been scoring well hosting the live Vegas version of the show. He won’t look like a complete rookie when Bob passes over the thin microphone.
AMY SEDARIS: I LIKE YOU
If you have to buy a woman a gift this year, get her Amy Sedaris’ I Like You. It’s her outrageous take on those Martha Stewart Entertaining books. There are actual useful tips within the jaw dropping suggestions. Plus there’s a great pic of Amy covered in sprinkles.
Amy Sedaris is on my list of three people I can have a torrid weekend in Las Vegas without the threat of a divorce. Originally Mrs. Corey thought it was a joke since she’d only seen her as the former crack whore that’s returned to high school on Strangers With Candy. She thought Amy was just killing space between Uma Thurman and Bea Arthur until Lisa Simpson turns 18. But after seeing Amy made up to look like a human cupcake, I’ve been placed on a diet.
BOWLED UNDER
Who is naming the bowls this year? Nothing says a great game like the San Diego Country Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl. Who isn’t pumped for the Papajohns.com Bowl? Does the loser have to ride to the airport after delivering a dozen pies in the area? And what is a New Mexico Bowl? Or a Texas Bowl? Since the International Bowl is played in Toronto, does that mean they’ll have a 110 yards to run? Which is more macho: The Brut Sun Bowl or Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl?
I’m reminded of the old Sports Monster joke about the Juggs Bowl. Now that would be a college halftime show worthy of our attention.
COWBOY UP
After talking about Randy Jones, the Cowboy from the Village People, I was forwarded his website: http://www.randyjonesworld.com. Seems that Randy has been extra busy over the past few years with low budget films and live performances. Way to go, Cowboy.
TIME TO BE WASTED
It’s oral surgery time and I’m hoping to get hooked up with the Vicodin. Last time I was on ’em, I kept getting calls from Amanda Peet wanting to know why my ass wasn’t on the set of Studio 60. Wait a minute, I’m not Matthew Perry. The bad part was the pills ran out just when my great country music song was rattling around in my head.
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