follows is a scattershot bit of random thoughts, links, and images that
showcase the lunacy that exists in the entertainment world and beyond.
Folks who remember my old missives from the old Steady Leak articles
should find this kind of stuff familiar. Folks seemed to get a kick out
of the first installment, and each Wednesday should fall victim to
another installment. Don’t expect anything deep here but something may
tickle your fancy.
Hope you dig:
The List of Dumb: 1/3/08
Cuba Badding, Jr. Is it really important to lend ‘celebrity’ voices to animated franchises that have long since exhausted any notion of having integrity or even the desire to appease anyone other than the installed fan base? The Land Before Time series is one that has been around for decades and unloads a sequel a year it seems plus the new animated show on television. The series has long exhausted the potential of the Bluth/Spielberg/Lucas/Marshall/Kennedy impetus (and the original film is annoying as fuck in retrospect with all of its screaming little dinosaurs), so why would it decide in 2007 to add two minor celebrity voices to The Wisdom of Friends, the latest DVD I bought my daughter to watch every day straight for three weeks?
Sandra Oh and Cuba Gooding, Jr.
As an aside, can anyone see her name and not read it like "Sandra…. Oh" as if Sandra did another crazy thing and after realizing it was Sandra that you weren’t really all that surprised.
Jim: "Someone took a shit on the microwave."
Carl: "That’s yucky and I’m going to think twice before I make bacon in there. Who do you think would do that?"
Carl: "Sandra. Oh."
Jim: "Yeah, BIG surprise. Remember the time she put the Monchichi in her box?"
Like these ‘stars’ have any bearing on anything relating to the making of the thirteenth movie in a franchise few people even think about. Maybe they have kids who are fans or are doing community service for some crime, I dunno. All I know is that Cuba Gooding, Jr. is twenty times more annoying as an animated dinosaur than he he as an annoying star of bad underwear commercials and sequels to Eddie Murphy films no one wanted. There are people who think he should have his Oscar repossessed, but I disagree. He should have his bones, skin, meat, beef, blood, hair, and soul reclaimed by the powers that be and all that should be left in his apparently well-furnished home is his Oscar statue and the brimstone scented document that allowed him to get it.
- Ache Flaccid.
John Schneider and Cloris Leachman co-headline Lake Placid 2, slowly ambling onto home video next week.
Despite the forces of the mystics urging me not to, I’ll continue typing after that worldbeater. I love the original and often regale rapt audiences with tales of the day I saw a sneak screening of The Blair Witch Project, an evening showing of Eyes Wide Shut and a midnight showing of Lake Placid and only liked the latter, despite my expectations and this site’s own considerable hype for those 1999 projects. It was a fun film, loaded with great one-liners, some nice kills, and great banter between Brendan Gleeson, Oliver Platt, and Bridget Fonda. It wasn’t a big hit but the fact there’s a sequel doesn’t surprise me. I mean, there’s dozens of giant animal films appearing on cable and home video every five minutes, why not ride the smallish coattails of even a modestly appreciated flick like Lake Placid?
Still. John Schneider? They guy’s a punchline in his own home and Cloris Leachman has long since proven she’s a talented and funny woman who doesn’t need to be playing second fiddle to Betty Goddamn White. The film promises more reptiles and unrated violence, which actually meant something in 1987. Nowadays it’s just flak.
They didn’t even get the logo right. Miner’s gonna be Major pissed.
- Something to Be Proud Of?
I am constantly surprised by the film machine’s ability to take my already battered skin and psyche and manage to take the contamination to new unholy places.
The case in point: First Sunday (Get Fatherfucked by the Trailer Here).
I have no illusions that Ice Cube has any integrity left as the badass who burst onto the scene with NWA and stayed fairly untouchable until Three Kings. He’s long since proven he makes decisions with his wallet. Tracy Morgan is funny on 30 Rock but not funny enough for me to follow him into other projects, and Katt Williams is only funny if William Sampson is carrying you out of the hospital. I have no expectations of these three as the leads for a film. Not even on my most sweet natured day. Still, First Sunday took my nematode-sized expectations and put ball juice on them and set them on horrible, stinky fire.
Really, if the folks who wrote this are picketing right now I hope a helicopter lands on them.
- Prom Night Remake.
The above is a still from the upcoming remake of Prom Night. Now go fuck yourselves.
- MEG Postscript.
Thanks for all your nice emails and messages about my recent announcement regarding my departure/release/land shark attack from MEG. It’s alternately sad news and great news, something that might become clearer in the future as more details drip out. Neither Grizzly Park or MEG really represent my own sensibilities as a filmmaker, and though I learned a lot from those experiences I really want to come out of the gate with something you folks really can get behind. So, just wait until I finish my Prehistoric Water Bear script…
- Now I Know What ‘Eyeteeth’ Means.
So, One Missed Call is really proud of ol’ Moutheyes above, huh? The weird looking creature with Garry Shandling’s lips sure does get a reaction. Like "Your eyes have bad breath". Like "Will you blow me and my two buddies?". Like "What, you ran out of pale Asian girls?". I have no idea what to expect from this flick [actually I do], but one thing I need to know is what is going on in the snatchy area of this character. I’m personally hoping for a few more mouths.
- Vigil Ante.
I’ve complained about candlelight vigils before and yep, they’re still dumb.
- Hippie Hate. Really?
Did I miss something? All of a sudden there’s this wave of anti-Hippie sentiment out there. As if Hippies are a threat to anything or even if people who look and act that way are even hippies at all and just rather people emulating what they think a hippie is. Even if they’re posing, who gives a shit? Aren’t there slightly more important things to be violently against? So they may have an interesting scent, be prone to laziness, and sometimes look like they dropped out of a Sid or Marty Krofft pant leg but do I need comedians, pop culture pundits, and random people in my life taking potshots at one of the most docile and inobtrusive members of society this side of coma patients? Hippie hate? Jesus, dig a little deeper.
By the way:
"Corn Dog is my favorite taste!"