In keeping with Snowden's movie theme, I've decided to comment on a few of the "big" movies coming up in 2008.
"Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull": Indiana Jones hasn't graced the silver screen in 18 years, but sadly, due to an odd side effect having something to do with the inevitable progression of time, or whatever, Harrison Ford is also 18 years older than he was when "Last Crusade" was released. I've seen some amazing things done via CGI in the last ten years, but one thing computers have yet to accomplish is making a 200-year-old man into an action star. Besides, that title is to my ears what sandpaper is to the underside of my tongue.
"Cloverfield": JJ Abrams fans may be shocked to realize he's not directing this film. Abrams is PRODUCING "Cloverfield," which is very different from directing. I'll be the first to admit that I was engrossed by the teaser trailer this summer. Abrams fanboys all over the Internet went nuts trying to figure out the title of the film, which was at that time codenamed "Cloverfield." Then, just a couple weeks ago, they finally discovered that the title of codename "Cloverfield" was, in fact, "Cloverfield." If that isn't a letdown of monumental proportions, I don't know what is. The only filmmaker who can get away with titling a monster movie "Cloverfield" is John Waters, and that's only because he's a complete moron. This film will make a ton of money in its first week with something known in the industry as "sucker business." After that, seeing as how all the hype is based on other hype rather than on a single advanced screening, people will realize that they've been duped once again by a marketing executive and an overrated producer. But don't take my word for it: This is what the New York Post has to say about "Cloverfield".
"The Happening": What is the deal with these titles? Apparently, the writers began striking earlier than we all thought. I'm still a huge M. Night Shyamalan fan, but after the reprehensible "Lady in the Water," I'm starting to lose faith. His decision to cast Mark Wahlberg as anything but furniture is also a fatal error. The last real art to which Mark Wahlberg contributed is still hanging on his parents' fridge.
"Sex and the City: The Movie": I don't even need to comment on this one. I will avoid this film enthusiastically, as I am certain I would get cancer from watching it.
2008 will probably be a great year for movies overall, but these films in particular will appeal to the dregs of our society. Maybe we'll finally prove what everyone else has known for decades: the average American moviegoer is a drooling idiot.
30 December 2007
29 December 2007
Who Needs Roger Ebert?
In that most glorious of traditions, I'm going to list off my "5 Greatest Movies," but I'm not going to be bound by any parameters. I mean it. One of these could be the "Greatest Movie to show a Gitmo detainee", another could be "The best movie to watch while giving Joan Rivers an oily pre-Oscar rubdown." Whatever. Furthermore, I expect everyone to read this list, nod with a sage understanding, and then click on over to Netflix and soak up all the extra genius-residue dripping from the still-warm-and-freshly-used DVD's:
1.) Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium: This abusively-rhyming film stars the one Dustin Hoffman, a real Boffman who employs Natalie Poffman-- sorry. But just look at that title, guys! Isn't it pretty? Doesn't it just beckon you, saying "Oh, come unto me ye weary of free verse and confessionalist prose! Come you bedraggled meter-ophiles! I will keep you swarmed in warm charm from a farm!"? Somewhere, I think Dr. Seuss just read my prose with black toner and he is now a loner with a big throbbing--
Next movie!
2.) Love in the Time of Cholera: Okay so I didn't see this movie. But besides having one of the worst titles since "Dabney Coleman Fever", I actually read the first hundred pages or so of this book. As Wikipedia summarized a key plot point, "Upon returning home, Urbino falls to his death after trying to retrieve the household parrot from the branches of a mango tree." How I wish this was a euphemism. The book was written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the real-life sheriff of Willacoochie, GA, who is known around the small town as a consummate gentleman, so long as he's not "eatin lunch with his deputy Jimmy Beam."
3.) Into the Wild: I saw this movie with about 20 other college-age kids. They were inspired by the star's boldness, so much so that I swore I saw some of them leave the theater and go home without stopping for a Venti Cinnamon Dolce Latte!
The star is the same guy who stalked Elisha Cuthbert in "The Girl Next Door." Now he's in wilderness movies directed by Sean Penn. He might be happy now, but I guarantee it that 10 years down the road, when he's standing at a political rally with a crowd of unattractive co-eds, he's going to wish he had done the "poon" career track a little longer.
4.) Daddy Day Camp: If I could be anyone in the world, I would be Cuba Gooding, Jr. Why? For several reasons: the first is because I would be named Cuba. I would insist on it being pronounced "Cooba" though. Authenticity is very arousing for the womenfolk, or so I've read. Secondly, is there anyone else out there who could be so consistently awful yet still hold his job? Starting with 2001, Cooba has been in Pearl Harbor, Snow Dogs, Boat Trip, The Fighting Temptations, Radio, Norbit, Daddy Day Camp, and The Mother-Effin Land Before Time XII-effin-I! How does this man stay gainfully employed? He's the Ted Kennedy of Actors! Thirdly, I can think of few life roles more glamorous or dignified than serving as Washed-Up-Eddie-Murphy's-Sloppy-Seconds-Trash-Bin.
5.) 2 Days in Paris: This movie gets the award for closest approximation to a hi-fi adult film title. Though if this were the case, whoever co-starred in the film would have to be coated in titanium and sprayed with insect repellant on the 5's of every hour just to maintain basic vital signs, given the danky men's-locker-room-stagnant-shower-puddle known as Ms. Hilton. But believe me, no one would name a skin flick "Balls of Fury." That's just horrifying. This movie also stars the Token Jew from such movies as Saving Private Ryan, Edtv, and the Hebrew Hammer (maybe not so much token in that one).
All in all, this has been a banner year for films. A giant banner that says "Damn, We're Doin' So Well We Don't Need Writers Next Year!"
27 December 2007
By the time you finished your sentence, I forgot how it started
In these days of sound bytes, it seems that most people, when they're engaged in conversation, tend to try expressing their opinions not with properly thought-out logical reasoning, but rather in the form of extremely short summations of their arguments. While it does offer the side effect of providing most people with more time in which they can watch reality TV, it doesn't bode well for the development of any sort of discourse among Americans. This is no truer than on a college campus.
People don't take classes to learn. They take classes to afford them the opportunity to repeat statistics they've heard on Oprah, and more importantly, to gain a captive audience at whom they may direct their incoherent ideas. I can't tell you how many times I've been sitting in a class, studiously taking notes, and generally minding my own business when one of my classmates interrupts the professor in order to speak aloud such magnificent insights as "When it comes to communication, I think the packaging is important," "You have to think about the movies kids watch nowadays," and "Our perceived needs have increased." All three of these nonsensical "assertions" have one thing in common: They are all based not only on the world views of the people who said them, but on the assumption that everyone listening shares that same world view.
People who think about what they're going to say more than nine seconds in advance are becoming fewer and farther between. Substance has been replaced with alliteration, and complexity with ambiguity. Instead of rationally thinking through one's reason for saying anything, many people simply assume that because they're speaking, what they're saying is at least cursorily valid or important. Not so. The fact that something is said out loud doesn't automatically make it worth listening to. (Refer to anything ever said by a student in a class involving intercultural communication for proof.)
People ask questions in class because they want to hear themselves talk, plain and simple. If that weren't the case, they wouldn't raise their hands, ask if they may ask a question, and then proceed to tell a long, rambling, Abraham-Simpsonesque story that in no way includes a question. That happened in three of my classes last semester. Three. I don't know when universities stopped teaching students who were there for the purpose of learning and started validating students' own half-formed opinions (the seeds of which were planted by such bastions of higher education as Disney films and the MTV Video Music Awards) concerning recycling, vegetarianism, and smoking bans, but it happened so gradually no one noticed.
People don't take classes to learn. They take classes to afford them the opportunity to repeat statistics they've heard on Oprah, and more importantly, to gain a captive audience at whom they may direct their incoherent ideas. I can't tell you how many times I've been sitting in a class, studiously taking notes, and generally minding my own business when one of my classmates interrupts the professor in order to speak aloud such magnificent insights as "When it comes to communication, I think the packaging is important," "You have to think about the movies kids watch nowadays," and "Our perceived needs have increased." All three of these nonsensical "assertions" have one thing in common: They are all based not only on the world views of the people who said them, but on the assumption that everyone listening shares that same world view.
People who think about what they're going to say more than nine seconds in advance are becoming fewer and farther between. Substance has been replaced with alliteration, and complexity with ambiguity. Instead of rationally thinking through one's reason for saying anything, many people simply assume that because they're speaking, what they're saying is at least cursorily valid or important. Not so. The fact that something is said out loud doesn't automatically make it worth listening to. (Refer to anything ever said by a student in a class involving intercultural communication for proof.)
People ask questions in class because they want to hear themselves talk, plain and simple. If that weren't the case, they wouldn't raise their hands, ask if they may ask a question, and then proceed to tell a long, rambling, Abraham-Simpsonesque story that in no way includes a question. That happened in three of my classes last semester. Three. I don't know when universities stopped teaching students who were there for the purpose of learning and started validating students' own half-formed opinions (the seeds of which were planted by such bastions of higher education as Disney films and the MTV Video Music Awards) concerning recycling, vegetarianism, and smoking bans, but it happened so gradually no one noticed.
18 December 2007
I suppose introductions are in order
I can only assume Snowden has told his Michigan buddies about this blog, and that anyone reading this knows nothing about me. I run a little blog of my own over at The House of Vaughan. Snowden and I went to high school together (before he bailed to go to Cheyenne Mountain), and we've been friends ever since. If you want to get an idea of what you can expect from me on this site (at least in terms of my brand of humor), I'd recommend checking out my other blog.
You should know that I'm essentially intolerant of everyone who is not me, and that I find dead baby jokes funny. As an aspiring comedy writer, I've been practicing and trying new things for a couple years now, as you can see by reading some of the awful stuff I wrote when I first started my other blog. I've grown a lot since then, thanks primarily to my crippling heroin addiction and a head injury I suffered in a fistfight with a Catholic when I told him he could "transubstantiate my ass."
I'm a columnist for the school paper at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, but I'm somewhat limited in what I'm allowed to print there because of all that "ethics" and "political correctness" nonsense, but thankfully, the Internet isn't bound by such restrictions yet. I look forward to you getting to know me.
You should know that I'm essentially intolerant of everyone who is not me, and that I find dead baby jokes funny. As an aspiring comedy writer, I've been practicing and trying new things for a couple years now, as you can see by reading some of the awful stuff I wrote when I first started my other blog. I've grown a lot since then, thanks primarily to my crippling heroin addiction and a head injury I suffered in a fistfight with a Catholic when I told him he could "transubstantiate my ass."
I'm a columnist for the school paper at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, but I'm somewhat limited in what I'm allowed to print there because of all that "ethics" and "political correctness" nonsense, but thankfully, the Internet isn't bound by such restrictions yet. I look forward to you getting to know me.
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