Note: Today is not April 1st.

I have oftentimes found myself defending Mr. Brett Ratner in arguments for as long as he’s been a feature film director. First for having the good sense to make a movie where Charlie Sheen is on the poster. Then for The Family Man. Then for Red Dragon, which isn’t very good but it’s not an affront to man and science like some would have you believe. Then for letting Devin snort coke off his chest on the set of The Grand. Kidding*.

Brett Ratner almost made a Superman movie. He then wanted to make an X-Men movie, but instead made X-Men: The Last Stand.

You know what? Fuck Brett Ratner. Because he thinks he’s going to make a Youngblood movie thanks to hundreds of thousands of dollars changing hands between foriegn money conglomerate Reliance and presumably Rob Liefeld’s company. For those who don’t know, Youngblood is a gigantic pile of horseshit hammered into comic book shape. An poor man’s X-Men for people with a rare ocular deficiency that disallows them from just reading X-Men comics. You know what a poor man’s Youngblood is? Your grandmother dying in the shower. Youngblood launched with Image Comics and soon after created new definitions for lateness, horrendous art, and terrible writing before Liefeld used his millions to lure good writers to his books. The result was horrible late books and good comic book writers having a Mercedes and the dough socked away to launch their own comic book titles.

Youngblood is a nightmare. And Brett Ratner thinks it’s a tentpole film, possibly for Paramount. It’s not a tentpole. It’s not even a little toothpick flag you find on a Reuben Sandwich. It’s cock. Horrible, generic cock with ugly mouths with too many lines, tiny feet, and anatomy that’d make Drs. Beverly and Elliot Mantle get a bone-on.

This is a case of a name brand filmmaker selling vaporware to a company who doesn’t know any better, another deal that helps fulfill contracts and keeps the revenue stream going but nothing that’ll even make it to screen (I hope, because Youngblood is worse than Scientology). Just another empty deal that thumbs its nose in the faces of creative unsung people everywhere.

An inside source tells me the plot involves some exaggerated poses followed by a few lines of tough dialogue and a large gun being waved around. My source goes on to tell me that there will be some characters who feel familiar if you’ve read “any hero book ever printed”. My source then ripped my chest open and kicked my heart because that’s what happens when hundreds of thousands of dollars are spent on Youngblood while I struggle to make ends meet.

Someone ought to rob Liefeld.








* It was his BALLS.