Category: Opinion In A Haystack

***SPOILER FREE***

I’m writing this only one day after the release of Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight. Only one day. This is not a review. I was lucky enough to be one of the many to catch a midnight screening of the film, and let me tell you… it was jolly good. A wonderfully written, acted, directed, shot, and toned piece of respectful comic book cinema. Heath Ledger’s performance was, no doubt, astounding… possibly the best overall part of the movie. However, since the last frame rolled through the projectors at around 3 am on Friday morning, the entire film/geek/online community has completely jumped overboard into the crazed anus of praise-land, forsaking all else in the name of The Dark Knight. All there is to be seen or heard, from the giddy and temporarily irrational masses, is the following:

“BEST COMIC BOOK MOVIE OF THE YEAR!”

“BEST COMIC BOOK MOVIE OF THE DECADE!”

“BEST COMIC BOOK MOVIE EVER!”

“BEST MOVIE OF THE YEAR!”

“BEST MOVIE OF THE DECADE!”

“BEST MOVIE EVER!!!”

“HAVE THEY EVEN EVER MADE ANY MOVIES OTHER THEN THIS!?!?!?”

“HOLY HELL! I CARVED HEATH LEDGER’S NAME INTO MY INFANT’S FOREHEAD!!!”

“LET’S GET THE POSSE TOGETHER AND MURDER JACK NICHOLSON’S FAMILY!!!”

It does not end there even. It is already number one on the IMDB top 250 movies list and if you are bored enough to mosey on over to the IMDB message board for Tim Burton’s Batman, you will find a constant ongoing war between the Bat’s fanboys trying to have a bigger dick contest. Sentiments such as “Well, Nolan just put this movie to rest.” or “Jack should be ashamed of himself considering Ledger’s performance.” can be found through out. To everyone involved, all those calling out these insane, quick claims of instant cinematic glory on behalf of Nolan’s Dark Knight, I would just like to say one thing…

CALM… THE FUCK… DOWN!!!

I understand how you feel. I’m excited too. There is a wonderful new Batman movie playing at my local theater, the best in almost 20 years. It’s an amazing blessing and all living Batman fans (of which I very much am) are lucky to be alive to see it. However, no matter how good it is or how amazing the acting might be, that is no reason to instantly spew geek splooge all over your shorts and act like it’s the greatest film ever. The beginning of my second column on this magnificent site details Matt Damon’s and my opinion on the true judge of quality… time. Now, that argument does not fully negate the instant notion that something is good, which this new Batman movie most certainly is. All I am trying to say is take a big deep breath, and think for a minute… just a minute. I’ll wait.

Ok, feel good? Calm? Alright. Was it a great movie? Yes, yes it was. I agree too. Was it the best movie of the decade, possibly ever? Keep breathing… no, no it wasn’t. Now, let’s examine why you had the initial reaction that you did. First, because the overall quality of the movie, production and acting all considered, crossed with the fact that it is a Batman movie makes it all the more astounding to you as a fan. Now, if we remove Batman, change characters names, keep the Joker as the villain but call him The Clown and show you a movie much akin to Michael Mann’s Heat (Nolan’s supposed inspiration for The Dark Knight) would you be nearly as excited even if it was of the same quality in the acting, directing, writing, and action department? No. You would most likely dig it, as would I, and move on with the possible thought of picking up the DVD in a few months. You wouldn’t scream insane notions of superiority from the mountain tops, you wouldn’t get extremely defensive to those of us who also enjoy the (fictional) Tim Burton Heat-esque movies, and you wouldn’t rush over to the Internet Movie Database and cast your vote to rank a two-day-old film as far superior to about 200 classics that have gestated in the public stomach for decades on top of decades. You would dig it, and leave it at that. Am I wrong? This is a great film, but the only reason I feel people are freaking out is because it is great and it involves a character they love… which does not make it GREATER, it just makes it a pleasant surprise to fans of that character.

As for all the hate being heaped on Tim Burton and Jack Nicholson and their defenders, it is completely unneeded. The 1989 Batman is a different take, by a different director, from a different time, and made in a different world of cinema. If you dislike it that is fine, but why is there a need to be threatened by it? The same goes for the Burton defenders; The Dark Knight does not erase Michael Keaton’s life. If you want to argue comic-book accuracy then both sides have nowhere to go. Either of the two films has just as many comic book inaccuracies as the other… don’t believe me, fine, but you’re wrong. Please understand I don’t care about them being accurate, I am just trying to point out that neither one nor the other is a complete comic book bull’s-eye. I, for one, like all four movies, each of them good or great in their own way and am happy to have a variety of tonally different Batmans to choose from (excluding Schumacher of course.)

Heath Ledger’s tragic death aside (now all the more painful after seeing his amazing performance,) the argument of Ledger being superior to Nicholson is also useless; they are merely two separate performances with two extremely different actors, both doing a great job and giving their own spin on the character. If you are a fan of Heath’s Joker (as am I) and want to tell off all the Nicholson-Joker fanboys (as am I) then you should be fair and also attack all the Cesar Romero fans as well, because when you want to talk about differences of portrayal… I think Romero’s live action Joker is just a tiny sarcastic tad farther from Ledger then Nicholson ever was. This is not the same thing as getting angry because of a remake or a re-envisioning of a character. Batman and the Joker are not screen-derived characters, much like James Bond or Jack Ryan they are derived from an external source, so several different takes on the character are common and there is no reason to get viably angry at the actor whom you don’t prefer. Now I could understand the hatred if, say, they recast Snake Plissken, Ash, Feddy Krueger (they already did), or Doc Brown. Those are SCREEN DERIVED characters, the actors that played them ARE the characters, it is a different story then with the Joker. Anyway, It was a great movie, just not the greatest ever made and if you don’t know who Cesar Romero is, then this entire rant has been directed at you. Damn kids. Thanks for reading!

A short, short time from now”¦in a state not that far away, the most unique terrorist attack in the history of earth is about to take place. It will not be thrown upon its victims due to politics, religion, land, or food”¦but out of love. Love of an art form. An army of men, better known as the George-Lucas Excommunicative Experimental Kinship (or GEEK,) toil away in their painfully cliché’ parent’s basements. Through extensive research and highly-evolved GEEK knowledge they construct a neurotoxin that attacks the centers of the human brain most active in those that have the slightest amount of talent and/or passion for telling stories and making films. They plan to stop Hollywood dead in its tracks, crashing the “can’t leave well-enough alone” train from going any further. The toxin renders the victim completely unable to be creative in the slightest capacity, which, as the research shows, gives great rise to plain white t-shirt sales.

GEEK, reeling with anger from years of constant cinematic rape of their childhood heroes and stories, releases the toxin throughout all of Hollywood via coffee houses, coke parties, and cellular telephone stores. Needless to say, it disables everyone in or remotely associated with the American movie industry, turning them into creatively-void zombies walking the streets with nothing new or inventive in their minds. George Lopez and Dane Cook finally fit in.

However, the attack goes completely awry. GEEK’s main target, that of George Lucas himself, goes completely unaffected (also Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer, except they have talent, yet it’s just for turning a profit and being less funny then AIDS.) Scrambling to figure out where their calculations went wrong, it comes to their attention that Lucas’s brain center’s for talent, and especially passion, have been completely stone dead for the past 20 years. Every writer and director in Hollywood is now rendered useless. The studios panic, they know they can no longer put their faith, money, or trust in fresh new talent or properties that don’t already exist with a built-in fan base”¦so they go to the only man left that is still functioning the same as before. George Lucas is given the task by all major studios to write, direct and possibly star in hundreds upon thousands of CGI-soaked sequels, prequels, and remakes to pre-existing franchises. Lucas, of course, plans to triumph at his main goal, which is to suck every last ounce of mystery, beauty, and timeless endurance out of everything he touches. Here are simply a few of his upcoming projects:

(note to reader: to make this all the more authentic I am writing it in the period of exactly one weekend all off the top of my head, while simultaneously disregarding all my knowledge of the existing source material, tone, character traits, and franchise precedents set in prior installments.)

Title – Gremlins: Origins

Director ““ George Lucas

Writers ““ David Koepp & George Lucas

Music ““ Composed and conducted by The John Williams’s Score Simulator 3000

Cast ““ Zach Galligan (as the voice of the Human), Shia LeBeouf, Ben Kingsley (as Scythe), and Tom Cruise

Production ““ Prequel. All mogwais and gremlins will be fully-digitally created in a fully realized live-action computer generated environment by ILM. Zach Galligan’s voice will make a cameo at the very end, however his part will be played by a life-sized, computer-controlled human puppet.

Pitch ““ The long awaited tale of how America’s favorite green menaces came to be. Pioneer director Lucas takes us on a long and breathtaking ride through his vision of Gizmo’s journey from infant mogwai to where we first met him. We begin on the Mogwai planet Terthdor, showing gizmo’s parents, Frenzoy and Yuter, walking through the highly-detailed and complex city of Bloutohn. We learn, through passing television ads and character banter (all the mogwais and gremlins can talk in English with british accents) about the ongoing global war between the Mogwai Unitarian Front and “those whom have consumed” or the Morphed Ones. They are a race of mogwais that broke the cardinal rule of their race and consumed foodstuffs after their local star, Halphi 385-2, set below the horizon, thus morphing them into devilish, marauding, deformed creatures. The leader of the Morphed Ones being, Scythe, an extremely evil brute, the son of Scrape who started the rebellion against Mogwai society. Frenzoy and Yuter soon go to a local hydration center, where little Gizmo is born during a city-wide invasion of the Morphed Ones. Gizmo eventually grows to lead the Unitarian Front, saves the planet, and leaves Terthdor to explore the galaxy as a mighty conqueror.

Title ““ The Never Ending Story 4: Never Beginning

Director ““ George Lucas

Writers ““ David Koepp (Dialogue by George Lucas)

Music ““ Composed and conducted by Tay Zonday

Cast ““ Shia LeBeouf, Bill Pullman and Cher

Production ““ Prequel. All creatures and beings found in Fantasia will be fully digitally-created in a fully realized live-action computer generated environment by ILM. All humans will be filmed in full green screen bodysuits with only their faces exposed. Necessary elements (rooms, furniture, nature, torsos, and limbs) will be added in post, including re-edited human lip movements that need adjustment to last-minute script changes.

Pitch ““ Brilliant storyteller and dream weaver George Lucas shows us a peek into the creation of the most mysterious book in all of filmdom. A four-and-a-half hour drama detailing the life of Hanson Kentucky, the author of The NeverEnding story. The entirety of the film will take place in Hanson’s apartment, while he pecks away at his trusty typewriter and has extremely extended conversations with his roommate Gorge Klucas. The culmination will, of course, be the last hour and fifteen minutes, which shows the extended process of book binding. All shots of Fantasia and Fantasia-related characters will be found after the credits, which will tell the prequel story of how Hanson Kentucky did drugs in the early 60’s and created a beautiful world of fantasy while sitting in the parking lot of a local cake-icing factory”¦all Fantasia characters will be shown in extremely quick, one frame per character, photo montages to The Imperial March.

Title ““ Police Academy: The Jolly Adventures of Young Mahoney

Director ““ George Lucas

Writers ““ David Koepp, George Lucas

Music ““ Composed and conducted by Five Young Cannibals

Cast ““ Vin Diesel (as the voice of Commandant Lassard,) Sarah Jessica Parker, Shia LeBeouf (as the voice of Young Mahoney,) and Roseanne Bar

Production ““ Prequel. A CG-animated family adventure

Pitch ““ America’s favorite Police Officer is back! This time, with maverick director George Lucas at the helm, we find Mahoney at the spry age of six playing “cops and robbers” in his parent’s backyard with other local children that in no way resemble the varied plethora of characters found throughout the Police Academy movies. This will be a PG-rated family comedy about one young boy’s life long quest to become not only an upstanding citizen, but a stern and just member of the police force. Steve Guttenberg is in talks to cameo as the Grizzled Waste Barge Captain.

Title ““ Poltergeist: Life to Death

Director ““ George Lucas

Writers ““ David Koepp, George Lucas, Uwe Boll

Music ““ Composed and conducted by Papa Roach

Cast ““ Jon Lovitz, OprahWinfrey, Dale Earnhardt Jr., Shia LeBeouf and Bernie Mac (as the voice of the Ghost Puppy)

Production ““ Prequel. Live-Action. All actors will be digitally-replicated using motion capture technology, while practical effects will be used to bring the Ghost Puppy to the life. (Ghost Puppy puppets will be digitally rotoscoped in post to fit with the rest of production)

Pitch – A live-action romp through the lives of the humans whose souls are destined to haunt the Freeling family household. Our story, written by earthbound deity George Lucas, begins in the olden days of the Wild West (year not researched.) The narrative takes place on the Freeling Family Ranch, where Wilbur Freeling and his family of five live peacefully raising chickens. Soon the evil local sheriff, played with a CG face and digitally simulated voice by Jon Lovitz, alerts Wilbur that he owes a mighty hefty amount of taxes and if he doesn’t pay up the bank will take the farm. Just to show how serious he is, the sheriff kills the family dog Buttermeat. Luckily, through a series of fight scenes, wagon chases, and alien abductions, the Freeling Family finds a way to resurrect Buttermeat the Puppy and with his newfound ghost abilities (as well as his unexplained ability to talk) he helps the Freelings pay off the bank and save the ranch. Stay tuned after the credits, a fully animated Meet Buttermeat The Ghost Puppy comedy short awaits, along with further adventures of Buttermeat, to be released simultaneously with the theatrical release. Buttermeat Blu-Rays will be found in every new Poltergeist: Life to Death action figure play set!

Title ““ Back To The Future 2009

Director ““ George Lucas

Writers – David Koepp, George Lucas, David Spade

Music ““ Composed and conducted by Hannah Montana

Cast ““ Megan Fox (as Marty McFly), Shia LeBeouf (as Doc Brown), and Michael Bay (as Biff Tannen)

Production ““ Remake. All actors will be shot at separate times, separate sound stages, using separate versions of the script in front of green screens and digitally placed in a fully realized live-action CG environment. Several Deloreans will be purchased, dismantled, have all parts scanned into 3D replication computer programs, melted down, discarded, then reassembled digitally and have actors placed inside them through the miracle of Digital-CG-Greenscreen-Computer-Anti-analog-3D-digital technology. The digital 3D Delorean model will be formatted to look like a Hummer H3.

Pitch ““ Freedom propagator and certified genius George Lucas takes on his most challenging battle yet, to finally make a heavily beloved film classic (that he barely remembers) ACTUALLY watchable to him and his children. We find our female hero Marty Mcfly as a struggling nymphomaniac high school student in the year 2009 who befriends a borderline teenage physicist by the name of Doug Brown, better known to his drug dealers and mafia contacts as Doc. Marty and Doc, while participating in a heavily sexual deviant act in the midst of driving to a local crack house accidentally drive their parent’s H3-Delorean into a wormhole. They soon find themselves in the land of Thefewture, where they befriend a local hovercraft-Priest named Biff who teaches them a lesson about respecting animal rights and safe sex practices. Mr. Lucas plans on remaking the entire trilogy, all concluding with Doc Brown revealing his true identity, that of Hue-E Luiss from the Planet Lovepower.

Title ““ Ghostbusters (possible subtitle: Ascension of the Demon Death Killers from Hell)

Director ““ George Lucas

Writers ““ David Koepp, George Lucas

Music ““ Composed and conducted by Lenny Kravitz

Cast ““ Cuba Gooding Jr., Shia LeBeouf (as Slimer)

Production ““ Remake. Taking a cue from the structure of The Nutty Professor films, Cuba Gooding Jr. will be playing the role of every ghostbuster, Dana, Goezer and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. The entire movie will be completely produced, animated, polished, directed, rendered, and finished by Pixar Studios as if it were to be released theatrically as a CG-animated movie. Cuba will then be shown the movie on a green screened set, while trying his best to act out each role of the entire film while viewing the fully produced animated feature. His performance, along with Mr. LeBeouf’s will then be reproduced digitally, acted out by professional mimes wearing motion-capture suits then re-animated to which the actors will then add their voices. The original fully-produced animated feature will then be discarded in the furnaces below Skywalker Ranch.

Pitch ““ Story-crafting film-God and monument-to-integrity George Lucas tries his hand at re-imagining one of the most loved and respected comedies ever made. Due to the extremely complex and ingenious form of filmmaking being used the movie will only run a brisk 38 minutes, 15 of which will consist of the tightly-woven complexities of Egon’s childhood in which he reads several books and experiences difficulty sleeping. Soon demons from the fourth circle of hell invade New York City killing every human they come into contact with by gutting them like sinful fish. Lucas, doing his best to be in keeping with the franchise, brings us to a climax beyond epic proportions as The Ghostbusters soon team up with the loveable 100 foot tall Marshmallow Man and his army of kung-fu mini-mallows and battle the head of the demons from hell”¦Slimer.

Title ““ Beverly Hills Cop 4: The Rise of the Disappointed Man

Director ““ George Lucas

Writer ““ George Lucas

Music ““ Composed and conducted by George Lucas

Cast ““ George Lucas (as the Disappointed Man), Shia LeBeouf (as Axel Foley)

Production ““ Will contain not only the greatest quantity but, by far, the greatest computer generated special effects ever put to screen or seen by human retinas. Lucas and LeBeouf, the only human actors to appear in the entire film, will spend at least 5 years, 10 hours a day, painted in full body green screen latex liquid adhesive. This will, quite possibly, be the most ambitious film project ever to be attempted, requiring more money, man power, resources, post production, and technological advancement then 300,000 times that of The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, and the Clerks movies multiplied by six and all combined as one lump sum. The fully-generated real world environments will have a higher resolution then that of any HD format, possibly even higher then real life itself.

Pitch ““ Earth’s intellectual savior and the smartest and most creative man in all the span of recorded human history, George Lucas, captains this film as if it were the life of his only child. The unenlightened should remember that Mr. Lucas brilliantly portrayed the role of the Disappointed Man in Beverly Hills Cop 3. His small, but miraculous turn as a man waiting for a ride on an amusement park attraction, only to be told he can’t get on it, took him to the very depths of his soul, possibly reaching the breaking point. Lucas, a method actor, took the role to heart, and now using every skill and resource at his disposal, will finish off this character’s story. We come into this saga not much longer after the events which transpired for the Disappointed Man during BHC3. He wanders the streets, mumbling with anger, brimming with viscous rage, plotting his vengeance against Axel Foley and Planet Earth for their refusal to let him have his share of fun. He goes mad with revenge coursing through his brain. He discovers that Axel Foley’s definition of fun is watching his favorite film adventure series starring his favorite film character ever”¦Dakota Johnson. The Disappointed Man goes on a mission. Using his huge bank account and vast connections within the film industry, he gets the writing/directing job on the next Dakota Johnson movie”¦Dakota Johnson and the Land of the Ruby Eyeballs. He carefully studies all three previous Dakota movies, takes extensive notes on tone, character, plot, dialogue, and fan reactions. His in-depth reports on the original Dakota trilogy sum up everything that was beloved and enjoyed by every lifelong, die-hard, fan of the franchise”¦especially that of Axel Foley himself. The world, and Axel, wait with baited breath for the return of their favorite hero of all time, only to be horrified at the result. The Disappointed Man, filled with blind rage and acute knowledge of overblown dreck, turned Foley’s beloved hero, his source of fun and his inspiration to be a hero himself, into a childish tub of festering gopher shit, covered in a thick layer of anuses that spew vomit onto the beautiful Dakota Johnson trilogy that preceded it. Axel Foley mourns the rape of his hero. The Disappointed Man successfully destroyed Foley’s fun, as well as everyone else’s. Foley, sadly sitting surrounded by his framed Dakota Johnson original trilogy posters simply laments to himself”¦ “If only he would have left well enough alone and realized there were OTHER rides in the park he could fucking get on. Piece of shit”¦I miss Billy.”

The following projects are soon to be further developed by George Lucas, once he gets a few more weekends free to talk to his kids about ideas. All of the following star Shia Lebouf, as well as none of the original cast members, unless otherwise noted:

– Ernest Saves The Universe

– Revenge of the Nerds 5: Voyage to NERD Island

– Dumb and Dumbererer: Harry and Lloyd go to Heaven

– Blues Brothers 3000

– Lumberjack Pee-Wee’s Giant Tree House

– Predator 3: Pizza Vacation

– Rocky Balboa 2: Rocky 7: PUNCH Planet!

– Short Circuit 3: Johnny wins the Robotic Olympics

– Star Trek: The Day The Moon Expanded

– Superman and the Onslaught of Alien Pimps

– Lethal Weapon 5: The Haunted Missile Silo

– Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2

– Naked Gun 4: The Serious Files

– Wayne‘s World 3: Wayne‘s Galaxy

– Crocodile Dundee 4: Peace In The Middle East

– Kill Bill Volume 3: The Bride vs. The Pope

– Star Wars: Clone Wars: Episode 2: Attack of the Clones Part 2.5: Revenge of the Sith Part 0.5: Clone Wars 2: Pre-Sith Revenge: The Empire Fights the Rebel Alliance: Star Wars: The Animated Adventures: The Live Action Version

If you have any other ideas for sequels, prequels, remakes, or re-issues for George Lucas to make please email him at Filmmakermangod@genius.com. Thanks for reading.

My old man raised me on a steady diet of classic comedy. He showed me the greats: Jackie Gleason, Carroll O’Connor, and Mel Brooks, and because of such, I will ever be thankful to him. However, that son of a bitch known as Time refused to stop passing and swept The Bunkers, The Kramdens, and The Nortons, away. It’s now no stretch of the imagination to say that time has set its sites on Mel Brooks’s wonderful “cast” of players. Hopefully, this will be posted within a week of his passing, but I write this on the morning after the announcement that Harvey Korman, at 81, had died.

It can be admitted, with slight hesitation, that upon reading about the demise of Mr. Korman last night I shed what seemed to be some sort of clear liquid from my eyeballs. It seems as though the thought of such a talented comic legend leaving a world in which film comedy is nigh dead, and TV comedy only seems to work if it’s animated, my cold, cynical, blackened, skeptic’s heart actually pumped a few droplets of red sludge and gave my body just enough sustenance to urge some moisture toward the ocular cavity. I cried. I man-cried. This wasn’t weeping because the love of your life rejected you, or sobbing because you cut your finger with a bagel slicer, or moping around the house in a bathrobe depressed that your life turned out shittier then you were told it would. This was a few extremely rare droplets of moisture shed by a man when one of his heroes, someone he truly respects, looks up to, and even idolizes, bought the farm. Yes, I do realize how obvious it is that I’m trying to justify the tears, but at least give me points for the admission.

Writing about Mr. Korman without mentioning The Carol Burnett Show or Tim Conway would be irresponsible. That was simply one of the greatest comedy series of all time, Conway and Korman perhaps one of the funniest duos to ever grace the small screen. Also, let us not forget that Harvey was the voice of The Great Gazoo on The Flintstones, and portrayed several roles in the wonderfully unwatchable Star Wars Holiday Special. I’ve read that George Lucas hates the Holiday Special so vehemently that he would burn every copy in existence if he had the chance, so Mr. Korman being an active member in something that causes Mr. Lucas distress makes him even that much cooler. However, I’m going to put all his amazing television work aside, because this is a movie column, and as my love for Harvey Korman stems from film specifically.

Just as Carol Burnett gave us Harvey on TV, Mel Brooks gave us Harvey on the silver screen. In High Anxiety, Brooks’s spoof of Hitchcock, Korman gives probably his most manic performance as the evil Dr. Charles Montague. The scene in which he torments the patient by shooting him in the neck with paper clips and making werewolf faces is drop dead funny. Also (and I couldn’t count on fingers and toes how many times I needed to defend this movie) Harvey Korman’s performance in Dracula: Dead and Loving It is absolutely perfect. Even if the film falls flat for you, the interplay in the scenes between Peter Macnicol as Renfield and Harvey Korman as Dr. Seward makes the whole movie worthwhile. There is something inherently genius in the pretentious, almost-effeminate asshole line delivery that Harvey Korman pulls off like no other; it was all acting, even at an old age like he was in Dracula.

He stayed sharp till the end. There was no doubt about it. And NO ONE and I mean NO ONE could touch Mr. Korman’s comedic edge in Blazing Saddles and History of the World Part 1 respectively. For my money, there aren’t many things on this planet funnier than Harvey Korman correcting people on how to pronounce his character’s name. As Hedy Lamarr (THAT’S HEDLEY!) in Blazing Saddles, probably his best known performance, he basically steals every scene if not the entire movie, a movie which is also one of, if not the THE, funniest film ever. He was firing on all cylinders. Every word, every evil grin, every line that came out of his mouth was of a comedic note higher than most funnymen ever reach in their life. Today, most film and comedy actors simply let the writing and moronic situations speak for them, thus REAL acting takes a back seat in lieu of silly concepts. Simply studying the scene in Saddles when Slim Pickens first meets with Hedley will show how dedicated comedians, especially Korman himself, used to be to completely selling the role. The timing alone, especially when Mel Brooks (as the GOV) and Harvey Korman share the screen makes most modern day funny men seem limp. Will there ever be anything as funny as Mr. Brooks and Mr. Korman bursting out into intentionally fake laughter only to stop a moment later, stare questioningly into each other’s eyes and give a loud disgruntled “hhhhrrrrrmmmm?” If you ask me, no”¦probably not.

Harvey Korman’s portrayal of Count De Monet is considerably shorter then his other roles in Brooks’ films, yet it contains perhaps his best screen moments. Found in the French Revolution segment of History of the World Part 1, is the ever-classic argument between Count Da Money (De Monet”¦De Monet”¦) and his assistant Bearnaise. The two of them overflowing with homosexual tension, wearing comically huge French wigs, griping about who the “delicious raisins” belong to, and delivering every line with heavily suggestive eye and finger movements make this rather short scene searingly funny. One wonders how you even get through a scene like that. Watching a master like Harvey Korman work is a wonderful pleasure, from the way he pulls that monocle up to his eye for a split second to the way he pronounces the word “raisins.” When Bearnaise gives up the raisins and shows some attitude, Harvey, of course, says one of the greatest quotes in all of comedy cinema: “Don’t be saucy with me, Bearnaise”¦” That scene is soon followed by the Count exclaiming to the King “My Lord, you look just like the piss-boy!” followed by Mel Brooks as the King retorting with “and you look like a bucket of SHIT!” Absolutely genius, especially considering the way Korman maintains the gay vibe through out, carrying the S at the end of “piss” just enough to make it infectiously quotable.

Venturing a guess of large proportions, it would seem that there is no greater compliment to any man (or woman) then to have others say you made them laugh, after you’re gone and especially when you were here. Harvey Korman did just that, he made us laugh for decades, and probably will continue to do so for many more. You were a legend Mr. Korman, a master of “the funny,” and I hope future generations will enjoy your work even 1/100^th of how much I did. My thoughts are with his family and friends.

The Strangers (2008) Review ************SPOILERS**************

I never listened to Rob Zombie’s music. All I remember was that there was a White Zombie song in The Cable Guy, Astrocreep 2000 I think, and part of the music video for Dragula was watched by the main character in Idle Hands for a few seconds. Never was a fan, but was familiar with his reputation and his molten lust for old horror movies, so when he started writing and directing films I showed up. House of 1000 Corpses was essentially a pointless remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Yet, somehow less pointless then the actual remake of TCM.) The Devil’s Rejects was Texas Chainsaw Massacre Goes on a Road Trip, and it was pretty well done if viewed through glasses with a 70’s tint. However, even though Rejects was very solid, this is when the horror/film community started to ask the question “How many times can they remake Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”

The unique concept that keeps bringing us back to TCM is, believe it or not, completely unrelated to Texas or”¦well”¦chainsaws. It’s the concept, the gruesome idea, of a family that kills innocents AS a family for no other reason then they want to”¦they get off on it. Them doing it as a unit amplified what was already so chilling about serial killers, they were murderers, all of them, firmly supported by their family members. They operated as a cult, a team of killers, all to accomplish one thing”¦obtain victims and collectively enjoy their torture and death. It’s a horrifying concept, made all the more horrid by the very strange macabre type things they did. Their actions almost defied explanation, any human that wasn’t part of the family was a victim of the family, no discrimination, people were just meat to be cut up in very odd ways, they were just that fucking insane, which made it all the more interesting to watch. How many times can they remake Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Well, the answer as of right now is”¦one more time.

The Strangers, written and directed by first timer Bryan Bertino could be called Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Home Delivery. Now, instead of the family capturing victims and bringing them back to their pad, they are kind enough not to bother the soon-to-be slaughtered with all the annoying travel time. It’s a TCM for the times we are currently surrounded in, sure the serial murdering family will slice you up”¦but they really respect how high gas prices have gotten.

If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ve seen the entire plot. That’s it, no surprises, no more dialogue from the killers, no real reasons to not just save $10 and watch the trailer twenty times in a row sitting in a darkened room with some microwaved popcorn. The plot is this. There is a couple, they have relationship problems, they go to a remote cabin in the woods, three masked people show up, fuck with them, kill them, then leave. Insert a lot of cheap jump cuts, some really boring characterization about boring characters, cliché horror movie victim-stupidity and you basically just saw the movie.

Strangers is a remake of TCM because it’s a family killing people together for essentially no reason. It pales in comparison to TCM because of the banal nature in which the family does it. They run around the house, throw shit, knock on the door, and basically fuck with this couple almost the same as any teenagers would. The only hint of weird we get served here is the morbid face coverings themselves, which if any praise is deserved by the film it’s for the wonderfully creepy masks the three killers adorn, especially the “sack” mask, it’s a really chilling visual. Too bad the promise in the designs of the masks never pays off with a boring script that seems to have been written by a machine.

********here’s where the major spoilers come in***********

We find out early in the movie that the couple, I have no clue what their names were nor do I find it remotely worth the effort to look them up, was just coming home from a wedding. The man, Scott Speedman, asked the woman, Liv Tyler, to marry him and she turned him down. They still go to the cabin anyway, but Speedman’s character calls his best friend and asks him if he can pick him up first thing in the morning. Well, in the midst of the onslaught by the insane murdering family, Scott Speedman obtains a shotgun and him and Liv hold up in a room, gun pointed at the door ready to shoot anything that moves. They are completely set, they actually did something smart, for about five minutes the movie became very refreshing. Then, of course, the friend decides to show up early, he walks in the house to find his friend, walks to the room and gets shot in the face by Speedman.

Now, at this point I was totally rooting for the movie, they could take this in a really cool direction”¦they don’t. After they get done crying and initially mourning the fact that he just shot his best friend in the face, they try to make a run for it and as they leave the house they see on the back door the word KILLER written in what seemed to be lipstick. The family just succeeded in something much cooler then murdering the couple, they tricked the couple into murdering their friend; it could have birthed genius. The movie continues, they fuck with the couple more, they eventually subdue both of them. Cut to morning, the sun is up; the couple find themselves tied to chairs in the living room with the three masked strangers staring them down with knife in hand.

Now, at this very moment in the flick, it would seem that the coolest possible script would have the killers, who are still masked mind you, simply drop the knife, walk out of the house and drive away. They could even tease them a bit more, make them think they are about to die, then have the climax of dropping the knife and just walking away, giving a THINKING audience a good breathe of fresh air. Why would that be great? Because then it wouldn’t be just another pale remake of TCM, it would be a movie all to itself”¦it would be a movie about a family that fucks with people, for no reason, ruins their lives by forcing them to murder someone they know and just walking away with the twisted satisfaction that they haven’t done nearly anything as awful as what they forced someone else to do. They would still be sick, twisted killers, but with a completely righteous attitude that screams “FUCK YOU, WE DIDN’T KILL ANYONE, ALL WE DID WAS THROW SHIT AT YOUR HOUSE.” It would be an ending akin to the recent wonderful and ballsy ending in the Frank Darabont written The Mist, which has the dual nature of showing a man condemning himself to hell while being saved from it at the same time. This could have been similar, except the killers are the ones saving them (by letting them live,) while damming them to a life of guilt at the same time.

So, what actually happens? The Strangers take off their masks, the audience never gets to see their faces, then they stab the couple to death and leave. That’s it. Even the stabbing felt so generic, just stabbed them in the stomach like serial killing robots without any verve. Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t like watching gore, nor do I like the idea of human beings getting stabbed to death or feel the need to down play it, but this is a movie. If you are going to have killers killing for no reason, make them interesting. They spend all this time fucking with this couple just to boringly stab them to death? This family goes to so much trouble, I mean, if your going to murder innocent people ANYWAY”¦have some fun with it”¦fuck in front of them while they cry, make them fuck in front of you while you cry, saw off one of their arms and beat them to death with it, piss on their face, shit in a bowl of ice cream and force feed it to them, ANYTHING to make it interesting. No, they just stab them and then leave. It really makes you wonder how something so bland could make it to the big screen. All the time and effort wasted on what amounts to scary masks and a few jump cuts for the audience members with low IQs. What does this movie bring to the genre? It goes the route of TCM by having them murder, but not in nearly any memorable way, the end makes the entire experience one fleeting useless venture.

Mutt Williams and the Kingdom of the CGI Gophers

Those of you that were kind enough to read my last column should know that I plan to eat a few of my words. The words I’m referring to are the ones found in the second to last paragraph. I don’t think much needs to be explained other then I (we) were very misled by certain statements made about the technical creation of Indiana Jones 4. I admit that my anticipation of said movie was extremely high, as I am a rabid Indy trilogy fan of the highest order. All I am going to say on the subject, because it’s just to painful to discuss, is when Indy rode off into the sunset 20 years ago, for me, that’s where it ends. Also, keeping in mind that film is my life, my ultimate life defining reaction to watching said movie is best summed up in a simple phrase I said to my buddy (and fellow Quick Stop columnist) Ian: “I feel like my heroes are dying, and my heroes are the ones killing them.”

Also, speaking of shitty things happening to great trilogies, The Clock Tower from Back To The Future (my favorite flick ever!) burned down.

Check out the story here

Thanks for reading, let me know what you guys thought of The Strangers.

As I sit here at my PC, stomach gurgling, churning, and no doubt brewing up some more lovely diarrhea. (Yes, I’m sick, and no that is not too much information.) I have a far more serious ailment then that which troubles my gut. The summer movie season is upon us, hovering over our backs and pounding our soon-to-be raw and torn consumer anuses, and honestly, I am at a loss. I find that with the passing of each mega-billion-dollar-budget film of every summer I sink just a bit farther down in my understanding of the importance, future, audience, and criticism of cinema. Am I, still having yet to have reached thirty years of age, a fossil? Does the bitter, brewed sentiment that flows out of my lips after sitting through ninety minutes of tepid CGI have any place in a world where films like Taxi Driver, True Romance, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, The Thing, and Robocop are considered dated, slow, and forgotten by the majority? And in contradiction to those questions…are my views and opinions nothing more then a molecule in the fingernail of the giant that is the new-found, un-credentialed, shallow, “thumbs up, thumbs down,” and ultimately useless blogosphere of film criticism that has engulfed an important but lost journalistic art? I will admit that I am probably the only one, if not one of the few, who has had such rousing and troubling questions pop into his head DURING a screening of Speed Racer.

In the past few weeks I have, much like the rest of the planet, seen both Iron Man and Speed Racer. Sitting through Iron Man a second time, after having read a large assortment of positive online reviews and those contained within magazines and newspapers caused me to boil over with anger. This contradicted logic for I agreed (for the most part) that the movie was “pretty good.” Nothing classic, (we don’t make classics anymore these days,) nor forgettable. I then proceeded to write the following…a meandering angered mess for which I wouldn’t insult any reader by putting in the actual “meat” of the column, but still deem worthy enough for others to read, if only to see if you empathize with my often irrational bout of embitterment. Please note how I refer to my metaphorical “gullet” being “sick,” only to be surprised a few days later with the medical equivalent I mentioned above. Here it is…

Jon Favreau’s Iron Man is finally here. The critical acclaim is soaring (94% on Rotten Tomatoes as I type), the profits are rising (no competition except clichéd slop), and the fan buzz is beaming with squeals of geek-gasmic fortitude. I’ve already viewed it twice and I don’t plan on reviewing it here. Why? It’s too expected, too simple, and just too damn painful. I don’t want to be counted among the mass of those fans and critics (including the reputable ones) alike whom I’ve read these past few days who seem to either be sixteen-years-old or mentally stunted and have forgotten that movies existed before CGI. Have you read these reviews? Yes…they are all positive and deservedly so, but the sickening in my blubbery gullet comes from the horrendous comparisons to other superhero movies.

“Iron Man, with its edge-of-your-seat action and skilled male lead, most certainly gives the Spidey franchise a run for its money.”

“One of the best superhero movies EVER!!! Right up there with X2 and Batman Begins!”

“Not since the first classic Spiderman flick has a comic book movie been so amazing…80,000 STARS!!! INSTANT CLASSIC!!!”

“I would sell my own child to see it again! Better then Ghostrider!”

Those quotes were fabricated by me; still they fully represent what I have been reading. My beef isn’t with the opinions either. I thought the movie was, considering Favreau’s involvement, definitely “money.” The dilemma I face is, I’ll admit, probably more due to my bitter nature. However, excuse me, but did you just say that the greatest superhero movies ever were all somehow contained within the last 10 years? Hello? Hello? Anybody home? Huh? Think, McFly. Think!

It seems as though critics, even the elders, are somehow giving in to the youthful, pre-conceived notion that modern special effects are now ultimately integral to define quality within film, especially in comic book cinema. I am going to assume that we’re just throwing all movies before the dawn of the computer under the bus. Superman: The Movie, a timeless, American classic, gets completely pushed aside for the likes of Spiderman? Excuse me for thinking that comparisons of greatness shouldn’t be made toward a movie featuring a Macy Gray cameo and a torturous Julia Roberts underpants joke…but hey, at least it has whiz bang special effects handed down from the gods of the computer chip. See, that’s what makes it better!

Sarcasm. Anyway, I’m not saying that COMPUTER GENERATED IMAGES are bad, or that new superhero movies are bad. What I am saying is that perhaps we should really start to worry about the serious deficiency of scope in current criticism and the foundations on which we are “criticizing.” When the upper echelon (which believe me, I am NOT AT ALL counting myself a part of) of film critics start to “forget” the cinematic support beams of the past 80 years, something needs to wake us up again. 80 years…not 50…not 20…most certainly not 10…80 years and more of this art that we all collectively love and discuss and believe in. Yet, somehow, all Iron Man’s exquisitely formulaic and massively entertaining structure burrows up for comparison is recent CG laden, product placement shit fests of the last decade. This is what we are comparing greatness too now? This is how far we’ve fallen?

It’s almost as if “older” movies are dismissed, not out of hatred or malice, but out of a mental fog that is clogging us all up and making us forget that true quality is not about how good the FX look, or how much the action-to-dialogue ratio is, but how much love and admiration was poured into a film, and what the ravages of time and re-watch value will do to it. Iron Man is a good movie, and it would still be good if you took away half the budget. The characters were funny and real, Tony Stark was perfectly played, and the writing was sufficient for a well-balanced comic book sensibility. Sure, the suit was amazing, the action was kick-ass, and the lumbering fight with the Iron Monger was ok, but much like Richard Donner’s genre-defining Superman, Tim Burton’s beautifully unreal Batman, or Paul Verhoven’s masterpiece, Robocop, it’s the craftsmanship, social importance, satire, and the intentions behind the fourth wall that make it succeed as a film. Not the mind-blowing CGI.

So, it turned into a review after all. I realize that my message of “special effects don’t make a film” is really old and overdone, but if things keep getting worse…why not keep saying it until it sticks? Plus, I have a feeling that the very “critics/fans” I am trying (however unsuccessfully) to address with this muddled message are the same people who will bitch and moan about how the action in the new Indy movie isn’t as “eye-popping” or on the edge as they figured it would be. They, of course, would be forgetting that Indy was never about Matrix-style craptastic action, and of course will not acknowledge that Spielberg INTENTIONALLY made the new film EXACTLY like the other three. I can hear all the complaining now. Ignorant, youthful cries of how Iron Man’s action put Indy’s to shame. Loud yelping spears of sound impaling my ear drums and repeating the unknowledgeable and ill-conceived notions that their .000001 Pico-second attention spans, when not being entertained by their cell phones, found Indy 4 to be underwhelming and not as “quality” as…say…pig snot like Transformers. I really hope Spielberg bludgeons you in the face with his talented directing dick you fucking unappreciative little….

Whoa! Gotta cool down.

I was pretty bitter, and admittedly, a little off base. After reading it again I realized that I had no point other then “HEY MOVIES AREN’T MOVIES ANY MORE, THEY ARE THINGS, JUST HOLLOW THINGS!” I planned to scrap it completely, in fact I wasn’t even clear about my intentions for writing it, and then, I of course saw Speed Racer.

Sinking to the level of reviewing Speed Racer is not something I mentally or physically feel up to right now. I will say that, with the exception of John Goodman fighting a ninja, I loathed everything about it. I’m not going to go into why, for this column it’s irrelevant. All Speed Racer did for me was become a catalyst for realizing that the beautiful, thought-provoking world of main-stream cinema (not talking about foreign or independent here) is NOW, more so then it ever has been, singing the last, muted notes of its swan song.

Film is, actual film, going to be slain by digital. Sets will be fully replaced by green screens. Socio-political and existential satire completely replaced by seizure inducing piles of computerized excrement that have only form and not function. Cinema being important is about to die. Nothing new I know, but it scares me. Yet all I read on message boards is that “Films are made to be enjoyed, not taken seriously for any reason…” Excuse me, but while I do believe in the entertainments, I also have a foot firmly planted on the belief that there are films that have changed the world, changed lives, and truly mean something to humanity. Reducing film to an “enjoyable” yet “exposable” form of expression is sad, and yet that statement is BEYOND rampant all over the realm of criticism and fan reaction. One would hope we don’t also say the same about music, literature, and journalism…which we probably do, sadly. However, I am not familiar with it.

Reading this far you probably realize that I am an old codger. However I am not against all things soon to come, if you notice I am plenty excited for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. There are two reasons for such: The first being that Dr. Jones is my favorite fictional character of all time (sometimes trading places with Doc Brown depending on my mood.) The second reason stemming from everything I’ve read Spielberg say about the movie. He’s using little to no CGI, he’s actually using real sets (in the face of advice from pal George Lucas), he instructed the cinematographer to make the film look as though it were made twenty years ago, and he even guaranteed no hyper-edited action sequences that have now become staples of the theater. Steven Spielberg, in a non-Indy related statement, admits he will still be shooting on real film stock long after all other director’s have abandoned it. Mainly because, and I couldn’t agree more, film has a living texture to it, something digital is sorely lacking in its lifeless universe of hallow pixels. Yes I am sucking his cock…you know why…because as an uber-Indiana Jones fan and an uber-film fan…Spielberg is sucking mine. Sure, he makes mistake, yet he seems to be the only mainstream filmmaker that is this adamantly outspoken about real film and it’s preservation. Hate him or love him, The Beard is romantically involved with the beautiful tradition of movies and that is why I retain his work, early to now, still has more merit then even some of the smaller guys that also romantically get down with movies. If you took away his huge budgets you wouldn’t take away his knack for putting something meaningful or just plain fucking great on the screen.

Straying too far away from my main point is not something I want to do, however this “stream of consciousness” induced by Speed Racer‘s disgusting display of cinema’s death is a lot to chew. The warning needs to be put out. We are about to fall off the cliff. Last summer we stood at its edge, the summer prior we saw it on the horizon, now I’m afraid we are goofily balancing on the tip with our arms flailing and the updraft from the cliff face cooling our belly button. I am certainly not the first to ask, but whose fault is it? The moviemakers or the goers? The critics or the bloggers? Father Time or Satan? It is rhetorical, at least for me, because ultimately I don’t know. I just know it really, truly, more then ever, needs to be asked.

Any bloke at least half-interested in the entertainments of our day can probably, without much pause, spout off a list of their top three favorite actors. Actors, the superstars in particular, relate to us a lot like the people in our lives. We know who we want to hang out with all the time, who we can’t stand, and who we would like to know biblically. However, much like in real life, what about acquaintances, the people we know through a friend of a friend? The guy or gal that’s to the left of the person you came to see? They don’t annoy you, nor stir strong emotions, but every now and then they add something to the conversation that just so happens to be relevant, funny, or even damn brilliant. They are never in the spotlight, but every now and then they come out of their quiet little shell, play to the viewing crowd beautifully, and then retreat away into the blurry cerebral depths of their friend’s friends. The cinematic equivalent of such is, in my opinion, the most noble of all Hollywood screen actors”¦the character actor. This brings us to my first volume of “HEY, IT’S THAT GUY!” A series of columns I will do sporadically, celebrating my favorite moments of the careers of some of those people that we never go to the theater to see, but always enjoy it when they just happen to be there.

One particular giant of the tiny world of character acting has been in the business for a solid 22 years. He has shared the screen with the likes of Jack Nicholson, Jim Carrey, Nicholas Cage, Ben Stiller, and most recently Owen Wilson. He has appeared in a multitude of very high profile shows such as The X-files, Beverly Hills 90210, The Larry Sanders Show, Freaks and Geeks, and CSI. According to Wikipedia, he even was an inspiration to the new god of comedy, Judd Apatow. During the production of Heavyweights, for which Apatow was a writer, our man-of-the-hour was a minor antagonistic role. He had a mix-tape of his favorite porno scenes, thus birthing Judd’s idea for the BONER JAMS ’03 joke in The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Who is he? Why all the build up? I think that two unsung decades in the business should grant him some kind of king-like introduction. He is best-known as the second banana to Weird Al Yankovic’s George Newman, in one of the greatest cult comedy movies of all time”¦UHF! The man of which I speak is none other then”¦David Bowe!!! NO! not the singer; there’s no “I” before the “E.” It’s this guy:

That’s right, IT’S THAT GUY! He can most recently be seen in a few commercials and Drillbit Taylor. As an avid comedy fiend since I was a plump little youngling, Mr. Bowe has been in my life almost as long as my brain has been self-aware. Of course his being in UHF was always the kicker, I think I rented that movie so many times from my local library that I was actually able to recite it word for word before I could do the same with the pledge of allegiance. My sick adolescent obsession aside, this led me to have David Bowe’s face burned into the back of my skull, and as time passed and he played more comedy bit parts, I would always give a silent eyebrow-lift of excitement when ever “That dude from UHF“ was in a movie. As I got older, I realized that my excitement was not just because he was in the Weird Al movie, but I had grown to realize that the man had solid talent and was genuinely funny.

I am going to go over a few of my favorite movies that David Bowe was involved with, specifically trying to center on his scenes and not the entire movie. The hardest part about most of these is they are bit parts, like a cameo they give to A-list celebrity, but shorter. So I shall do my best to give Mr. Bowe justice with the little screen time he’s given. My goal is more to call attention to his roles, because honestly there is not much to say about a 90 second performance. I would love to meticulously squirm through his entire career, but I don’t have that kind of time, or space. Also, while I think Mr. Bowe is very talented, he has been in his fare share of crap, just like any other character actor. I really don’t think going over the specifics of his performance in Python will in any way celebrate him. I must sadly inform you, and my inner movie geek self, that I have never really seen any of his non-comedic roles. It’s been almost a decade since I last watched A Few Good Men, and I don’t think his scene in The Rock, while cool, should count as serious. Please excuse any over-enthusiasm I pour out over his films, for I have probably seen five of the six comedies I’m going to mention over twenty times a piece.

Heavyweights, the quintessential fat-camp movie for any guy that was born during the Reagan administration, features Mr. Bowe playing one of his few villainous roles. Directed by Steven Brill, co-written by Judd Apatow, and starring Ben Stiller. By the way, as Tony Perkis, Stiller gives one of the funniest performances in his career playing a psycho exercise-crazy camp owner, a character almost identical to the one he played in Dodgeball, yet no one seemed to notice. However, we aren’t here to wash praise over Mr. Stiller. David Bowe plays the extremely clichéd elitist counselor from the “evil” sports orientated Camp MVP across the pond. In what is probably his most “meaty” scene, Pat, the fat counselor from Camp Hope (the fat kid camp), quietly inquires to Chris Donnelly (David Bowe) if it is at all possible for his well-trained athletic campers to take it easy on the tubby kids in a baseball game. Donnelly, with much glee, says no in so many words, all the while placating him under his breath.

He is only in about three scenes, but he plays a pretty glorious dickhead, and you get to see him in a toga during the Apache relay at the climax, if you fancy that sort of thing.

Chris Donnelly could be seen as a rather awful human being because he actually goes to the trouble of motor-boating his MVP campers over to Camp Hope in order to spray their dock with degrading graffiti. He is not the main antagonist however, a role that falls on Ben Stiller. The part may be small, or large compared to some of his other roles, but it would be ignorant of me to ignore it. It’s a lynchpin role. Its existence is small but vital. His skilled nuances as an athletic asshole, one that pretty much gets off on embarrassing fat kids, helps to sell this simple little comedy, it’s plot, and it’s thin social commentary, all the more.

This film is a good jumping off point in understanding his career and the careers of those like him. The layperson would never give one cellular brain function to noticing that the smaller roles, especially in a harmless family comedy such as Heavyweights, if not executed with acute care, really can cause all to crumble. FILMS DO NOT STAND ON THE LEGS OF A-LIST STARS ALONE. That is a good lesson for most, for I fear that there are still a majority of people out there that actually believe actors MAKE movies themselves. I know it may come as a shock to some, but Denzel or say Russell Crowe don’t write, shoot, edit, and direct the movies they’re in, other talented people do that. Also, I realize I may sound like I’m touting Heavyweights as if it were Citizen Kane by calling it a “film” and alluding to how the greatness of all that it encompasses would crumble without such an amazing cast. I don’t think that. It’s merely a harmless, but very funny (perhaps given new creditability considering Apatow’s involvement) comedy that I am using to make a point, so please don’t crucify me yet. I assure you I’ll give you plenty of other opportunities to nail my taste to a cross, if not in this article, at some point in the future of my blathering.

It can easily be said that David Bowe has something of a well-trained knack for showing up in extremely beloved, but initially hated, cult comedies. Now, being that there is such sparse information regarding his career, I do not know if his film choices were his own, pure luck, those of an agent, or recommendations through actor friends, but something really made a constant in his career. The David Bowe performance in the gargantuan cult masterpiece Freaked is a perfect example of this career trend. The 1993 Tom Stern-Alex Winter (Bill of Bill and Ted) directed, studio-oppressed, film concerning a conceited actor, played by Winter, getting turned into a hideous mutant half-beast boy by a crazed redneck with his own freak-making machine. If you’ve never seen it, nor even heard of it, I implore you to check it out on DVD immediately. This is a little underdog of a movie for those of you with a sick sense of humor and a love for extremely creative make-up effects, possibly the best of the 90’s. Randy Quaid, in his only comedic performance that rivals that of Cousin Eddie, plays Elijah C. Skuggs, an evil redneck who hosts his own freak show populated by morbid creations that he himself made. He does this by purchasing a radioactive blue snot-like substance, called Zygrot 24, from a huge tyrant corporation known as EES, the Everything Except Shoes Corporation.

The movie features wonderful Naked Gun style humor and tons of odd celebrity cameos such as Keanu Reeves (Bill and Ted together again!), Mr. T, Bobcat Goldthwait, William Sadler (Bill and Ted and Death together again!), and of course David Bowe in a role so small he doesn’t even merit a name. He plays an EES assistant. The reason I wanted to talk about this role, other then the obvious fact that I love this movie with all the meat in my skull, is because, once again, it’s very pivotal. You see at the end of the movie EES turns its back on Elijah C. Skuggs and tries to steal his freak-machine. David Bowe is the man who says, “This machine is now the sole property of the Everything Except Shoes Corporation,” thus prompting Randy Quaid to hose down all the EES employees with green sludge that melts them all down into a huge anthropomorphic screaming shoe made of twisted flesh.

Genius? YES! Does Mr. Bowe do much else in the rest of the movie? NO! However that is irrelevant, because it’s an amazing movie and our man of the hour says one of the most plot concluding lines in the whole picture. Well done, sir. Well done. So goes the life of a character actor.

This next performance, for which I actually think he spends less time on screen then in Freaked, is in the Ben Stiller-directed dark comedy masterpiece, The Cable Guy. It also happens to be my absolute favorite Jim Carrey movie (You can start throwing your stones now.) I don’t think it’s remotely necessary for me to go into the details of this film. By now you have probably made your decision if it’s post-Ace Ventura garbage or perhaps a extremely well-crafted psychological comedy about the horrors of what a life in front of the boob tube can do to the human mind. Trust me”¦it’s the latter, I sadly know. If you hate it, all I can say is, give it another chance and try to focus on the twisted dark side of the humor instead of what could be construed as just stupidity.

I must remind you that I am doing my best not to review these movies, which believe it or not is proving rather difficult as it just so happens that Mr. Bowe is in some of my favorite movies of all time. I press on. The Cable Guy culminates in a huge scene involving Carrey’s character getting badly wounded and a rescue helicopter getting flown in. This brings us to David Bowe, as he is listed in the credits as helicopter paramedic. They put the cable guy on the helicopter, once again lonely and without a friend, and low and behold there in the copter sits David Bowe who leans over gently and says “Hang in there, pal. You’re gonna make it, buddy.” The cable guy slyly looks up at him and asks the oh-so-scary question, “Hey, am I really your buddy?” Bowe uses his signature (to anyone who recognizes him) semi-grin of speculation here (He does have a very rubber face especially considering his abnormally emotive forehead.) The paramedic then makes the obviously colossal mistake of responding with a very pert, “Yeah, sure you are!” Carrey gives a devilish look, and cut to the credits.

What has always enthused me the most about this scene is that I vividly imagine The Cable Guy 2 starring David Bowe as a main character and all the havoc wreaked upon him by Carrey’s pathetically insane loner. If only something as dangerously cool and risky as that would happen, which it won’t. It’s a pitch-perfect ending to a nigh perfect movie (don’t kill me, please?), a very large part of which is thankful to Mr. Bowe himself. It is NOT thankful to the obvious blue screened helicopter windows that they didn’t bother to fill in. My guess is the shadows caused by the blades were flubbing up the imposed background, so they just let it be. That OR the cable guy died and David Bowe is a helicopter angel taking him to the blue ether of Heaven and the ceiling windows are denoting such”¦no, it’s just blue screening.

Mr. Bowe has performed in the movie Freaked alongside possibly the two greatest “DUDES” to ever grace the silver screen. His connection to Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter, as loose as it may be, has some very close resemblance to that of his earlier career. Bowe has had semi-supporting roles in two forgotten comedies playing a surfer-dude and a biker-dude respectively. In the 1987 beach spoof Back to the Beach starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello as themselves, we get to see David Bowe play a bone-headed surfer named Mountain.

Back to the Beach was one of those classic midnight movies you catch a thousand times on TBS in the thick of twilight insomnia. Probably best caught on TV somewhere in the early 90’s. I fell deeply in lust with it, and especially with a particular scene. In the movie, Mountain (David Bowe) runs his own highrise beach lookout, home of Mountain’s Surf Report and comprised of several monitors all showing various wave activity, where all the wildly neon-swimsuit-clad surfing deadbeats pass out each night after supposedly catching waves constantly all day. In his one genius starring scene, we get to see the loft completely covered in snoring surfers, in the middle lays a hung over Frankie Avalon witnessing the chaos. The alarm clock goes off, Mountain starts yelling at everyone through a megaphone. Every guy instantly jumps to life, the phones start ringing and all these half-naked men scramble to put on their bathing suits in a room no bigger then a rich kid’s sandbox. Here is where the comedic gifts of David Bowe come in. He frantically starts picking up the phones, screaming the various conditions of the waves and pleading, assumedly to other crazed surfers, for them to “GET ON YOUR BOARDS!” All of this is done in a surfer voice so perfect, for the 80’s at least, it rivals that of Spicoli, or Bill and Ted. All of the guys start to viciously rush out. Mountain, answering the phone again, yells to his buddy Webby saying his mom is on the line. Webby refuses to talk, trumpeting how he HAS to surf and in one of the funniest moments of the film David Bowe without any pause says “uh”¦sorry ma’am, he’s dead.” Then instantly hangs up.

This is subsequently followed by Mountain looking out on the ocean with binoculars, screaming some almost incomprehensible surf lingo and then posing, tongue flung out KISS-style, to the beginning strums of Wipeout before he runs yonder with the rest. It’s a hilarious scene, and it’s completely his. This was either his first or second movie too, so whatever it is that he has, he had it from the beginning. Back to the Beach definitely without question is my second favorite appearance of David Bowe, If not only because I love the movie and he is the ring master of my favorite scene within its wonderfully corny walls.

A similar performance can be found in the 1990 biker gang comedy Masters of Menace. In it, he plays Sloppy Joe, a brain dead biker, to almost the same effect and charisma as Mountain. It is a completely unknown comedy; in fact I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who has ever seen it except me, which is odd considering it does feature such comedy greats as John Candy, Dan Aykroyd, and George Wendt. It’s still only available on VHS, and I doubt there are very many of those left. I won’t bother going into the details of the movie, all I will say is David Bowe stands out in a scene involving the biker gang drinking a punch containing Windex. They all have a group hallucination of a talking bear that gives advice about the meaning of life. The bear, voiced by Jim Belushi (he was funny once), tells Sloppy Joe that he is so stupid his best bet in life is to buy a thousand lottery tickets and cross his fingers. The end credits, freeze framing ala Animal House, lets us know that Sloppy Joe does just that, except he loses the winning ticket. It’s a funny movie, but it was lost to the banality of cable and VHS long ago.

Masters of Menace, along with his turn in Back to the Beach are two of the greatest examples of Bowe’s very adept ability to be, dare I say it, lovable and jolly. The only time he will surpass the comic timing and hilarity of playing Mountain and Sloppy Joe, is of course, two years post-Back to the Beach when he plays a character with the greatest name of all time.

Right here and now, my refusal to lay praise or review on UHF must be marked. I do not deny singing its pros because of disdain or hatred. The refutation only arises because having to say it’s amazing, in 2008, almost seems like an insult. It should be common knowledge, accepted as fact, and worshipped as unmitigated searing truth that it is genius. Etched into the granite supports underneath the stone table of film, pop, parody, and nostalgic history should be the three mighty letters, UHF!

This is not a review of UHF. This is not a review of UHF. This is”¦Sorry, I was typing to myself. Perhaps you may have noticed, I worship UHF, and I love Mr. Yankovic. Now, to hesitantly put that aside, the movie in question marks perhaps the most well-known performance by David Bowe. It would not be an act of idiocy to say that he might still be “THAT GUY FROM UHF“ even on his deathbed. Unlike all of the other small to mid-size roles I have touted, this is most definitely a starring part. However, much to my dismay and probably Mr. Bowe’s, he can not be found on either the front or back of the DVD cover. No instead we see the only two thespians to have a somewhat A-list moment in the sun, Michael “Kramer” Richards and Fran “The Nanny” Drescher, post filming this box office flop. I understand why that is, but the guy was in the ENTIRE movie, we couldn’t even put his head popping up in the corner? Perhaps justice will better be served with a Blu-ray release, until then I guess we can at least be thankful they didn’t excommunicate his name from the credit listing.

David Bowe plays Bob, the slacker best friend of Weird Al’s George Newman. They both fall into the position of running a local UHF station that is rivaled by the evil Channel 8, located in the same town. Costello had Abbot, Lewis had Martin, R2-D2 had C-3PO, Jay had Silent Bob, and Weird Al most certainly had David Bowe. There is no doubt that he is the straight man of the pair, yet the odd dynamic is Weird Al plays the straight man to the majority of the other incredibly “zany” characters in the film. In a sense, they both play it straight just not in the same direction. Whether it be luck or skill, the casting of David Bowe as Weird Al’s other half works just right. Bowe has an extremely emotive forehead and brow, while Al has always had those great glaring eyes and elongated mouth working for him, so together they make one perfect comedic face.

Weird Al is, without a doubt, the star; it’s his movie. The character of Bob, however, is given plenty of room to bring the laughs, probably more prominently then in any other role he’s had. Take for example the small, but fan-favorite, scene in which Bob is describing the newfound success of Stanley Spadowski’s Clubhouse. As he starts talking to George, George beings throwing green grapes at him and Bob skillfully catches every one in his mouth. The beauty is that they never cut away; David Bowe catches a total of four grapes while delivering lines all in a single shot. It might seem very simple and small, but it takes some talent. It is done in a passive manner not served as a big moment, yet whenever anyone tries to catch food in their mouths it’s the first thing that pops into my head, and I’m sure the same goes for any other UHF fans out there. I believe on Weird Al’s extremely informative commentary track he explains that this was never in the script, David Bowe just happened to possess the random talent.

Early into the flick we get to the first taping of Uncle Nutzy’s Clubhouse, starring George as Uncle Nutzy and Bob as Bob-O the Clown. If you ask me, this is the single greatest moment in his on-screen career. In what might be one of, if not the, funniest moment in the entire movie, Bob comes out on stage dressed in the most generic clown get-up imaginable, talking only with the honks of a long cliché bike horn.

Uncle Nutzy instructs Bob-O to look up, then down, then at Mr. Frying Pan. Weird Al, dressed in a painfully tacky plaid suit, clocks David Bowe in the face with a cast iron frying pan. The beauty is that it’s done out of complete randomness, a type of humor that at the time I think was pretty unknown, but it’s rather embraced now in a world where Adult Swim flourishes. Now according, once again, to the commentary, Al actually hit him with the pan. It can’t be seen because of the red makeup and clown nose but Bowe is actually bleeding at that point.

The scene continues, Bob-O gets up, and Uncle Nutzy asks him if he’s hungry, causing David Bowe to reluctantly squeeze his horn with a sickly muffled honk of anger. Pitch perfect comedic interaction on Bowe’s part. Al then proceeds to feed Bob-O dog biscuits which of course are mistaken for butter cookies, prompting the clown to run off stage and vomit.

It can honestly be said that it’s this very scene that sparked my idea to write about David Bowe and hence, character acting in general. While watching UHF months ago, alone and around 4 a.m., I actually laughed out loud at that little honk he gives post-getting slammed in the face. That means a lot considering I have the movie memorized and was half-conscious due to lack of sleep.

David Bowe has had a long quality career, but not one in the spotlight whatsoever; as I hope I have shown. Thank you David Bowe for over 20 years of making me, at least, laugh. I hope anyone who has had the gumption to swash their way through my long winded tribute will come away with enough of a mental image of him to at least proclaim “HEY IT’S THAT GUY,” the next time you watch The Rock and notice David Bowe yelling at Nic Cage to stab himself in the heart with a syringe. It would be even better if you could bother to remember his name, but at this point I’m sure Bob-O the Clown will take what he can get.

The following may contain *****SPOILERS***** for the following films: Doomsday, Into The Wild, Southland Tales

One of the oddest feelings in the life of a moviegoer is when you know a movie is awful, but you can’t help but love it anyway. This is what the term “guilty pleasure” refers to. However, I am a member of the camp that loathes that term; our motto is “IF YOU LIKE IT, LIKE IT, NO GUILT REQUIRED.” Please believe me when I say I love a lot of awful movies. Movies that even I will admit are just downright muck (still don’t feel guilty.) I like watching Bad Boys, Armageddon, and Troll 2, but there is no way in hell I’m going to say they’re “good.” However, I am one of those outcasts who also loves unjustly excommunicated films that no one ever gave a chance. I will not only defend the likes of Last Action Hero, but will go on the offensive and actually prove its merit as a genius satire of the 80s/90s action movie scene. Once again, no guilt consumes me at all. If anything, I take pride in defending such movies. This brings me to a few words on Doomsday.

It’s a bad movie. It moves at a silly-fast pace, the narrative is stuck together with watery chewing gum, and God only knows who the intended audience is supposed to be. The plot, as if it needed to be explained, revolves around a virus breaking out in Scotland which is sealed off from the rest of the planet. Years later, the government sends in a female version of Snake Plissken to find the cure for the virus, which she only has 48 hours to do until her team is left for dead. It’s a bad movie. Yet, I liked it. Though, my positive feelings toward the flick are not that of a normal nature. Doomsday is kind of writer/director Neil Marshall’s John Carpenter/George Miller fan film that just so happens to have made it into theaters. I don’t even know if I am comfortable calling it a homage or a satire, I much prefer the term “fan film” for this movie. The reason being that while watching it I felt the whole time like Marshall was just saying “hey, I worship Escape from NY and The Road Warrior! check out my version, dude!!!”

The similarities are so thick between Doomsday and those two films that honestly I don’t know why he did not just title it Mad Maxine Plissken Escapes from Glasgow. Our main heroine, Eden, starts out the movie with an eye patch for fuck’s sake, dressed nigh identical, to Kurt Russell’s Plissken. The villain, Sol, was an exact representation of the younger version of Vernon Wells’s character from The Road Warrior. There was even a character named “Carpenter.” Like I said above, who in the hell is the audience for this thing? I couldn’t imagine anyone that didn’t grow up on a firm diet of John Carpenter or George Miller’s MAX trilogy seeing this and not just passing it off as garbage. Hence, it’s completely a fan film, from the Escape from NY title font, to its awesome Carpenter-style-synth music, right down to the blatantly similar Mad Max car chase scene. It is simply like one hardcore 80’s sci-fi/horror action geek ejaculating all over the screen. A screen probably being viewed by people too young to recognize the warm globs of classic films oozing southbound.

Luckily for me, I, much like Neil Marshall, worship Mr. Carpenter and grew up on a solid diet of The Road Warrior. Thus, I just answered my own question. I am the audience. The problem with that being that fellow lovers of these old films could react in two ways: either like me, or in complete rage over someone ripping off material from older, better, classics. My mind never instantly jumped to the words “rip-off” and the only explanation is Neil Marshall’s track record. His werewolf movie Dog Soldiers is solid as hell, and The Descent was one of the coolest horror flicks I had seen in the past decade. Perhaps my love of his résumé gave me the positive spin I needed going into Doomsday, because without that I might have thought it was just hackneyed slop. Another theory that was boiling in my brain is that he was trying to do a Tarantino and take all the best parts of old films he loves and make a Frankenstein creation out of them and his own oeuvre. In this case, just change Quentin’s love of 70’s kung fu/exploitation schlock to Neil Marshall’s love of 80’s sci-fi/horror. Though, perhaps due to way too much direct homage and frenzied cliché camera work, he never quite makes Doomsday the Kill Bill triumph that I (and probably he) wish it was. As a fan film, it’s fucking genius. As a film, it’s just lukewarm poop. I am going to give Marshall the benefit of the doubt and say that he is fully aware of the film he has made and it’s place in the pantheon of homage, satires, and spoofs”¦also acknowledging that the classics he has intentionally aped from are much better then anything he could have ever hoped to accomplish with Doomsday. Viva La John Carpenter.

Into The Wild

It warms and chills my heart knowing this film is based on a true story. A masterful work, directed by Spiccoli himself, about a young student named Chris McCandless, who abandons all his money, family, and possessions so he can live in the wilderness. Some people would say it’s a journey to find himself, however I say it’s a journey to save himself from the lies he sees around him. Emile Hirsch does an amazing job here, playing Chris as a kid too smart for those in his life, but aware enough to know he hasn’t got it all figured out. Hence why he leaves the life that his parents, materialistic social nightmares caught in a loveless marriage, are trying to guide him toward. He packs up, gives all his money to charity and just disappears.

They make good note of the fact that he is on the rather intelligent side. He has the opportunity to succeed in the academic and business world, yet is obviously disgusted, or possibly more confused, by the shallow nature of it all. This is obvious from the get-go when he is almost insulted that his parents offer to buy him a new car so he doesn’t have to drive around in his old piece of junk. He reacts with outrage toward them for even suggesting it, not because he is spoiled, but because he sees no need to fix what isn’t broken, nor does he understand his parent’s, or society’s, obsession with aesthetics. He goes on a journey to the wilderness, heading for Alaska, meeting folk along the way, but ultimately on a one-way ticket to be alone with nothing but trees and sky to keep him company. He ends up shacking up in an abandon bus in the middle of nowhere, only to die alone from starvation.

Depressing? Yes. However, he learns the two truths about life. One, Society is nothing more then an illusion that dampens the mind and kills the soul. Two, sadly that (society) is the greatest resource for the one thing all of us need the most”¦other people. It’s a very long movie, very quiet, yet beautifully directed. Nothing is overly stylistic. Hell, even the simplistic title font (Arial?) is in keeping with McCandless’s entire lifestyle. I can honestly say that no movie in such a long time, perhaps with the exception of the ending of Clerks 2, has spoke to me on such a direct, agreeable level. This is a film for any one that is frustrated with those around them that don’t seem to get the fact that this is all just a big chunk of fabrications and falsities. It’s for people that look at a building and see a bunch of walls stuck together with nails, or a car as just a structured pile of metal, glass and rubber. It’s a film for anyone that questions from a young age if gold, diamonds, or money are actually worth something or is it just because we humans have place value on them. I realize that might be a little out there, but if you watch the movie you should get the gist of what I’m blabbering about. For a similar foray into the same type of material, try the Albert Brooks’ classic Lost In America, which is based on Easy Rider. It’s easier on length, it’s a comedy, and the ending isn’t as heart wrenching. Sean Penn has done a masterful job here. It succeeds as a film, a message, and most of all, a beautiful tribute to an interesting, clear-minded man.

Southland Tales

Wikipedia defines “glory hole” as

A glory hole (also spelled gloryhole and glory-hole) is a hole in a wall, or other partition, often between public lavoratory stalls or video booths for men to engage in sexual activity

A former co-worker once described to me why he loved David Lynch movies. I guess he felt as though he had to defend liking movies that made almost no sense to the common person. He said “Bob, if I walk into a public bathroom and see a glory hole, then proceed to stick my penis in the glory hole, then just wait and exist in that moment of wonderment where I either could get my dick sucked or get castrated”¦that is what it feels like to watch a Lynch film.” Odd as that statement may seem, I totally got what he was saying, and subsequently enjoyed Mulholland Dr. all the more because of it. I honestly love movies that are a labyrinth of storytelling, even when they go nowhere. I dug Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko for that very reason. I guess what I’m saying is I love glory hole films. A lot of people don’t, which is understandable, but there’s some pleasure in being able to pen in your own meaning behind a movie. If you can go back and think of what it meant, it kind of makes you feel smarter then you know you are, or you’ve figured something out that no one else has. These movies have their audience, and their merit. Often, in the case of Lynch or Cronenberg, they are beautifully shot, edited, and if anything, encompass the total and complete vision of their masters. No studio heads trudging around stomping on all the wonderful weird that they loathe oh so much.

Writer/director Richard Kelly’s Southland Tales is most certainly a glory hole. The problem is that it’s so small that anyone who isn’t a newborn can’t use it. The narrative is such a destructive mess that I can barely even give you a synopsis of what happens. It’s about the end of the world, Buffy being a porn star, and two Stiflers being separated souls that come together as one and float an ice cream truck that belonged to Connor Macleod of the Clan Macleod. Oh yeah, and The Rock is in it and he does some vague stuff, and his hands shake a lot, and”¦yeah. It’s a complete mess. It has an amazingly diverse cast, comprised of comedic faces from the B-list of the past 20 years. You even get to see a dead serious, blonde, homicidal Jon Lovitz ask Cheri Oteri if she wants to fuck. Was it supposed to be funny? I wasn’t laughing. All I was doing was standing next to the bathroom stall repeatedly banging my tiny dick against the miniscule glory hole trying to figure out what the hell Kelly was thinking. The movie fails for me in that I have no interest in sitting through it again, I don’t feel the “want” to figure out what it all means, and I really don’t want to talk about it after this sentence.

Real quick, my top 5 extreme sport’s movies:

5. RAD (1986) ““ Such beautiful schlock. If BMX gets you hot, this movie is the center of the sun!

4. Side Out (1990) ““ I realize that there could be a strong debate on whether or not volley ball is an “extreme sport.” Either way, this movie SERVES up the action. What? You think of a better pun.

3. Thrashin’ (1986) ““ Planet Terror and No Country for Old Men have now made this Josh Brolin classic all the more relevant and fun to watch. Not until 300 did this showcasing of male abdominal muscles get surpassed in the confused homosexuality department. It’s so worth a watch if only for the music and the painfully extended skateboarding scenes that were obviously used as time filler.

2. Airborne (1993) – I legitimately love this movie. It introduced me to Seth Green and Jack Black. The end rollerblading race down the “devil’s backbone” is probably one of the greatest rollerblading achievements in film ever, and the greatest triumph in Elektra director Rob Bowman’s career! Yeah, I guess that really isn’t saying much.

1. Gleaming the Cube (1989) ““ The greatest skateboarding movie ever made. See Christian Slater ollie over an entire highway on his skateboard. See Tony Hawk drive a pizza truck. Seriously, this movie holds up after time. Great plot, great acting, and some serious 80’s spice really make it work. Also should be a contender for most befuddling tagline in film history: “All he cared about was Gleaming the Cube”¦until the night they killed his brother.”

That’s all for Column 3, thanks for reading and let me know of any great “extreme sports” movies that you would put on your list.