Notes: 2008 will always be remembered as the year of the troop surge, the economic collapse, the election of one Barack Hussein Obama, and the Million Tween March on Washington, where a tidal wave of pre-teen adolescents descended on our Capitol, demanding more romanticized, vacuous entertainment. Congress responded to this by authorizing the Twilight Cinematic Reconstruction Stimulus Act of 2008. Only time will tell if this was a prudent move, but judging by the recent uptick in leading adolescent indicators, we can safely conclude that it was a popular one. Starring Kristen "Jailbait" Stewart, Robert "Pedo-Bear" Pattinson, and a lot of vampires. Yes, real vampires. We're serious. (We're not.)
Plot summary: (This is going to be short, what with not much plot to speak of.) Precocious Phoenix teenager Bella Swan (Stewart) is essentially abandoned by her mother and minor league baseball playing stepfather, and is promptly shipped off to the middle of nowhere (Forks, Washington) to live with her estranged father. Per teenage norm, Bella mopes around, but soon catches the eye of nearly every guy in school, despite having no discernible personality. None of these mere mortals interest her, however, at least not as much as a pallid, stone-faced vampire named Edward, who, being about 108 years old, is a bit old for her. They embark on an illogical and wholly unconvincing romantic journey, which after much breathless panting and lustful staring, finally comes to fruition, at which point these two supposedly find true love while evading dangerous carnivorous. We the audience rediscover how truly stupid it was to be a teenager.
Key moments of interest:
Bella learns that her mother and stepfather are leaving on a whirlwind tour of the U.S. to fulfill his practical minor league baseball aspirations.
Somehow this is more important than maintaining a stable home for their daughter.
Bella is summarily shipped off to Forks, Washington, and is surprisingly not issued a flannel shirt and "Git 'Er Done" hat upon entry.
We meet Bella's emotionally stunted father and his wacky cast of friends, including a kind old Indian and his son, Jacob (making up the final corner of a love triangle you could see from space).
Bella's dad buys her the Christmas gift all the kids want this year: a rusty, unreliable old truck.
It's the first day of school! Oh boy!
We're introduced to her stereotypical gang of friends, including the slightly nerdy but ultimately cool guy, the smart Asian girl, the possibly gay drama guy, and the bubble headed but lovable girl.
Cue lunchtime. Bella's new friends fill her in on the group of strangely pale (and adult-looking) group of mildly incestuous students sitting at a table near the back of the cafeteria.
Did Salman Rushdie write the screenplay for this movie?
One of them is DREAMY! Bella is instantly transfixed by his voluminous hair and alabaster skin.
Next in her exciting schedule is biology class, and the only seat available is the one next to Dreamy Edward from moments before.
In order to arrive at their table, she must brave the windy torrent of a conveniently placed fan in slo-mo.
(At this point during the movie, Crabs began dry-heaving. Luckily he had not eaten anything that day, and Ang's carpet was preserved.)
Dreamy Edward freaks out for no obvious reason, and is later heard requesting a different science class.
Bella, despite having spoken exactly two words to him, is devastated and commences moping yet again.
Later that day, Bella is nearly creamed by a truck, but Dreamy Edward stops it. WITH HIS BARE HANDS. There's something...different about him. (Besides being dreamy.) He does not want to discuss this supernatural occurrence, however, and rebuffs her.
Bella and friends take a trip to the beach (an obvious destination in Forks, Washington), and lo and behold, Jacob (who you'll remember as the third in our triangle) is there. He tells Bella that the Cullens (Dreamy Edward's family) are not allowed on his reservation (gee this foreshadowing is subtle...).
In a delightfully banal scene of adolescent activity, Bella and her mortal friends go prom dress shopping. Because she is totally helpless, Dreamy Edward must save her from a gang of would-be rapists.
He just can't stay away from her, or something equally gag-worthy.
Dreamy Edward and Bella take an ill-advised walk through the woods.
"Do you know what I am?"
Bella does, because vampire is of course the most logical conclusion.
Dreamy Edward puts Bella on his back and sprints to the top of a tree for no obvious reason.
Ah, every girl's dream...to be held captive by a vampire in a tree.
Even dreamy vampires have families...Dreamy Edward invites Bella for dinner, and she meets the whole bloodthirsty clan.
Clumsy Bella cuts herself, and her thoughtful hosts restrain themselves from murdering her on the spot.
This star-crossed duo is now the talk of the town...cue slo-mo scene of pointless walking.
(It's worth mentioning at this point that some folks in Forks have been dying mysteriously, supposedly the victims of some sort of cougar. Crabs wonders at this point if Demi Moore is on the loose. Oh, snap!)
Apparently vampires have typically American interests like baseball, so Bella joins them for a game in a thunderstorm.
All the vamps would give Babe Ruth a run for his money.
But wait...there are intruders! Seems our "cougar" is actually a trio of scofflaw vampires. They do not share the Cullens' disdain for murder, and one of them wants Bella for an appetizer. Seems she can't mask her tasty human smell.
Dreamy Edward unilaterally decides that Bella has to leave town, and they embark on a breakneck quest to get her things and throw her father off the trail.
Bella flies to Phoenix in a futile attempt to throw the (hot) vampire off of her trail, and at some point falls victim to a lame trick to convince her that said vampire has her mother.
She escapes from Dreamy Edward's clutches and heads off to save her mother...from a vampire with superhuman speed and agility. Yeah, she won't need any help at all.
James (the hungry vampire) is waiting for her at her old ballet school, and commences biting her (which is quite painful due to the vampire poison spreading through her system).
But Dreamy Edward, surprising no one, shows up suddenly to save her from her own stupidity.
And then all the Cullens are there. (Bwuh?)
Dreamy Edward is able to restrain himself as he sucks the poison from her arm (but he really, really wants to kill her), and Bella is saved.
Bella and Dreamy Edward goes to the prom. She wants to be a vampire. He says no. How romantic. (Swoon.)
The end (mercifully).
Snarky movie discussion:
Crabs: A lot has been made of the not so subtle sexual subtext of this film and considering the large age gap between the main characters (90 years or so was it?) and the fact that Bella is supposed to be 16 some viewers find this disturbing. With this in mind do you see the rampant popularity of Twilight as a manifestation of the larger liberal agenda of legalizing pedophilia?
Ang: An interesting question. I think it's important to note first that Bella and Edward do not actually have sex, but in fact engage in nothing more than kissing. This to me represents a rather conservative point of view -- that if you absolutely must fall in love with a sparkly vampire more than 100 years older than you, you must save matrimony for the marriage bed. However, we do see some liberalism injected into these sexually-charged scenes, since the two constantly find themselves alone, and with a bed nearby no less. The conservative agenda always wins out, thankfully, and they remain chaste.
Crabs: The movie disregards a longstanding vampire archetype when it is revealed that Edward does not perish in the sunlight but instead sparkles like a diamond. Is this alteration of vampire lore supposed to insinuate that Edward possesses an inner beauty that is hidden to most? If so what does this say about the persecution that vampires have historically endured? Is a vampire rights movement looming on the horizon?
Ang: Thank you for resisting the understandable urge to label this subversion of vampire mythology as "lame." As you insinuate, Edward's sparkling skin is actually indicative of a much more complex ideology. I believe that Edward (who, as some critics have noted, sparkles like he's been doused in glitter glue) represents the inner beauty that is inside of us all, but is in fact hidden when we are shrouded in darkness. Only by casting off the bonds of conformity (in this case, by drinking blood) can we locate our true selves. As to your question about vampire persecution, you know that I am a noted activist for Vampire-Americans, and have been for 50 years. It is my hope that the Twilight saga will shed light, so to speak, on the struggles vampires have historically faced, and remind us all that vampires are people, too. (Or used to be.)
Crabs: Our star-crossed lovers reside in the gloomy town of Forks, a depressed former logging boomtown. Do you believe Twilight was intended as a larger commentary of the challenges of finding love amid economic collapse and pervasive social ennui? Is this Romeo and Juliet for the Great Recession?
Ang: Some have speculated that Forks was chosen as a location for the Twilight saga because the lack of sunlight is a perfect cover for the Cullens, who would certainly stand out in, say, Florida. However, as you have indicated, there is a larger subtext at work here. In fact, few movies represent the horrors of our current recession as well as this one. Bella's father, for instance, is a cop with little money, while the Cullens are well off for no obvious reason. Charlie does not object to his daughter's romance, despite the fact that Edward is richer than he, indicating that he believes himself unable to rise out of his current economic circumstances. I believe Twilight presents a commentary on inter-racial and inter-religious dating, indicating both the perils and satisfaction present in pursuing a romance with one fundamentally different from one's self.
As a special treat for our faithful readers, Ang and Crabs would like to offer the first verse of their soon-to-be released song about Twilight, "Sparkle the Sparkly Vampire," sung to the tune of "Puff the Magic Dragon."
Ahem...
Sparkle the sparkly vampire
sparkles in the sun.
Hangin' 'round the schoolyard
tryin' to get him some.
Please feel free to post comments regarding potential subsequent verses.
For next time: Ang and Crabs are proud to present a new guest blogger, to be introduced later. The three will be tackling the classic Leprechaun 4: Leprechaun in Space. (Pray for us.)
Rating: five glitter sticks in the eye.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Catwoman -- Making Halle Berry Unattractive Since 2004
Facts: Up until, say, 2004, comic book movies were on sort of a roll. X-Men, Spiderman...and then came Catwoman. Fresh off of her Oscar-worthy performance in Monster's Ball, Halle Berry decided to take a colossal shit on her career, accepting the starring role in this cinematic hairball. Perhaps this choice was the result of a bet gone awry, we can't be sure. Starring Berry, of course, Sharon "Muff Shot" Stone, Benjamin "Coulda Been Mr. Julia Roberts" Bratt, and other people now without careers. As a side note: Berry won the Razzie for Worst Performance, and, in a rare moment of celebrity insight, showed up to accept her award.
Plot summary: Naive bumbling Patience Phillips (Berry) stumbles on some kind of evil, secret meeting at the cosmetics company where she slaves away with no recognition (and no spine), and ends up flushing both her career and herself down the toilet. Via some ancient, and yet explained (and lame) resurrection story, in which a cat uses his secret, and conveniently unexplained power, to literally breathe life into her. Oh, and Patience had saved the cat's life. Blah blah, karma. Goody-two shoes Patience becomes party girl Patience, illustrating her independence by cutting her hair and driving a motorcycle, and other "edgy" behavior. When she's not committing daring and brash robberies (for which she makes amends), she romances a boring beat cop with whom she has no chemistry whatsoever. There's a subplot about a cosmetics company gone awry (new facial cream causes the skin to decay, or something), but by this point you won't even care, and you'll be begging for the sweet, sweet release of death. Patience goes on a quest to find her killer, and she wears clothes suitable for fighting -- a black stroppy number with lots of exposed stomach, and a whip. But even that can't save this pile of hardened cat turds.
Key moments of interest:
Cue montage of cats throughout history (world's clumsiest foreshadowing).
Patience bumbles her way through a day at work. Her spinelessness is evident right away.
Enter cliched coworkers: queeny gay guy, sassy, buxom lady. They're supposed to be hilarious.
Patience's Evil Boss is not supposed to be funny. Neither is his Evil, Sexually Unfulfilled Wife. Nor are they interesting, so don't get your hopes up.
Buxom Lady uses the company's new facial cream...and her skin tingles! Could this be a sign of things to come? (Yes. Do you care? No.)
The Evil CEO leads an Evil meeting about his Evil new product. Evil Wife interrupts, and it looks like they have some marital troubles.
Patience is called into the boss's office, where he delights in ripping her a new asshole over her designs. She has until midnight to finish them.
During the course of the evening, she saves a cat from certain death and meets a hot cop.
She slaves away all night, and in a shocking twist, it's too late to hire a courier, so she makes the ill-advised decision to deliver to the designs to the creepy desolate company building, which appears to be located on some kind of Mafia-controlled shipping dock.
Due to lax security, Patience manages to find her way into a top-secret meeting in which Evil Wife is discussing the Evil product in question. (Scientist: We can't in good conscience sell this new cream! It's disfiguring. Evil Wife: Man the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!")
After a hair-raising chase scene through the complex, which involves lots of cowering and pants-crapping, Patience is flushed through the sewer system and ends up soggy. And dead.
Amazing origins story alert! A gang of feral cats which, for some reason, lives on this deserted patch of pavement, finds her corpse and breathes life into her.
Patience wakes up in her apartment the next morning with no idea how she got there, and begins discovering her newly-acquired feline powers.
She and the cop play a weirdly-erotic basketball game which leads to...nothing.
Donning a wildly impractical S&M-style outfit, Patience foils a robbery. Like any good vigilante, she steals some jewels for herself.
Don't get too excited -- she gives them back (in a paper sack, no less) the next day. Oh, but she keeps one piece, this necklace with claws, and uses it for part of her stupid costume.
Patience eventually starts to wonder what the hell is going on (you know, after she's made the suit and foiled a robbery and whatnot), so she pays a visit to this crazy cat lady, at which point she, and unfortunately we the viewer, are treated to the long and mundane story of cats with powers throughout history.
At some point, she tells off Evil CEO and is subsequently fired. But she isn't too upset about this apparent lack of income. There are probably lots of jobs out there for hybrid catwomen in leather suits.
Patience takes her friend to the hospital. We learn more about the Evil cream.
Evil Wife opines that this cream will eventually turn one's face to marble...a fact which surely will not come into play later. Uh-huh.
Tomcat cop realizes Patience is in heat, and they get busy alley-cat style. This is a (boring) conflict of interest since he's attempting to capture Catwoman.
She remembers her boss is the one responsible for her death (actually the wife, but she's not that bright) while at the opera. The cop figures out that Patience is Catwoman, and so on.
Patience goes to the boss's house to get him, but his ridiculous wife has gotten to him first. The wife attempts to frame Patience for the crime, and, after a night in jail, a cat fight ensues.
Due to the marble-skin thing, Patience can't seem to hit her.
But the Evil Wife falls to her death, and Patience is cleared.
She goes about her business, a free (cat)woman. Cue Dear John letter to the cop and a stupid montage of her sashaying down the street. Straight out of a Greek tragedy, this one.
Snarky movie discussion:
The theme for today's discussion will be "Cat got your conscience: An psychological examination of the Catwoman in contemporary society".
ANG: Please comment on the character of Patience/Catwoman in light of a late 20th century feminist consciousness? Focusing in particular on her choice of outfits.
CRABS: What an excellent and relevant question, it's almost as if you're a professional at this. The constantly evolving nature of Patience's outfits during the movie serves as a subtle, nay brilliantly near-subconscious, visual manifestation of her evolving feminist morals. This clearly channels current social memes in which feminine identity is inherently, yet paradoxically, tailored to and simultaneously generative of fashion trends. As my grandpappy Wilbur T. Crabtree always said "the clothes make the woman, and the woman wears the clothes".
ANG: Uh....
CRABS: Next question please.
ANG: In the movie, Patience and her cop boyfriend have virtually no physical chemistry between them. Do you feel that this was a deliberate decision on the part of the filmmakers to illustrate a decline in romantic love in our current society.
CRABS: It's a well documented fact that the incessant modern struggle between urban and rural, futurist and regressionist, science and religion has destroyed our collective historical notion of romance. According to recent data, nearly 91.34% of Americans report a 15% decline in spontaneous amorous feelings and a whopping 115% decline in the belief in the "erotic American dream". I see this film as a sad, yet accurate, depiction of the state of modern romance: detached urbanites engaging in unfulfilling flings between hectic work schedules and jewelry store heists. If the Bard were alive today looking for modern day inspiration for Romeo and Juliet he would invariably cry in his beer and say "tisk, tisk, shame on thee, for thee haveth no booty in thy life".
ANG: Since the release of this film it has become the butt of many jokes for its perceived "badness". While it is true that the film features non-existent acting, laughable dialogue, unintentionally hilarious special effects and a general odor of cat vomit I believe a larger debate rages: is this film actually wholly terrible or is our hatred of it a commentary on the decline of art in western society.
CRABS: Yet again I congratulate you on an excellent question, indeed a question that needed to be asked. I see this as actually a question about Fate vs. Self-Determination. If this movie is truly as bad as everyone seems to think then aren't we bound by Fate to perceive it as another chipped cog in the defunct machine of modern art? Are we not all coerced therefore, into Luddite-esque condemnations of this film, social lemmings if you will hurling themselves off the cliff of late 20th century anything goes moral bankruptcy? Some speak of the "decline of western art" yet I submit that this is a fallacious assertion. Art is a reflection of social trends, yet social trends are a product of politics and history. History tends to be revisionist in nature and politics morally corrupt and vacuous, therefore to expect anything other than intolerable crap from the "artistic establishment" is self-delusional and wrong. In this sense Catwoman is a shining beacon of modern art and an achievement that will immortalize the capricious nature of our time.
ANG: Sorry I fell asleep there for a minute. Are you finished?
Crabs: Quite.
For next time:
Ring ring...ring ring... What's the sound you say? Why I believe its a Booty Call. Yes, that's right, Ang and Crabs delve into the twisted and hilarious world of this irreverent comedy next time. Bring your eye gouges and ear plugs, you'll need them.
Rating: Seven sticks in the eye (and a cat-o-nine-tails to the groin).
Plot summary: Naive bumbling Patience Phillips (Berry) stumbles on some kind of evil, secret meeting at the cosmetics company where she slaves away with no recognition (and no spine), and ends up flushing both her career and herself down the toilet. Via some ancient, and yet explained (and lame) resurrection story, in which a cat uses his secret, and conveniently unexplained power, to literally breathe life into her. Oh, and Patience had saved the cat's life. Blah blah, karma. Goody-two shoes Patience becomes party girl Patience, illustrating her independence by cutting her hair and driving a motorcycle, and other "edgy" behavior. When she's not committing daring and brash robberies (for which she makes amends), she romances a boring beat cop with whom she has no chemistry whatsoever. There's a subplot about a cosmetics company gone awry (new facial cream causes the skin to decay, or something), but by this point you won't even care, and you'll be begging for the sweet, sweet release of death. Patience goes on a quest to find her killer, and she wears clothes suitable for fighting -- a black stroppy number with lots of exposed stomach, and a whip. But even that can't save this pile of hardened cat turds.
Key moments of interest:
Cue montage of cats throughout history (world's clumsiest foreshadowing).
Patience bumbles her way through a day at work. Her spinelessness is evident right away.
Enter cliched coworkers: queeny gay guy, sassy, buxom lady. They're supposed to be hilarious.
Patience's Evil Boss is not supposed to be funny. Neither is his Evil, Sexually Unfulfilled Wife. Nor are they interesting, so don't get your hopes up.
Buxom Lady uses the company's new facial cream...and her skin tingles! Could this be a sign of things to come? (Yes. Do you care? No.)
The Evil CEO leads an Evil meeting about his Evil new product. Evil Wife interrupts, and it looks like they have some marital troubles.
Patience is called into the boss's office, where he delights in ripping her a new asshole over her designs. She has until midnight to finish them.
During the course of the evening, she saves a cat from certain death and meets a hot cop.
She slaves away all night, and in a shocking twist, it's too late to hire a courier, so she makes the ill-advised decision to deliver to the designs to the creepy desolate company building, which appears to be located on some kind of Mafia-controlled shipping dock.
Due to lax security, Patience manages to find her way into a top-secret meeting in which Evil Wife is discussing the Evil product in question. (Scientist: We can't in good conscience sell this new cream! It's disfiguring. Evil Wife: Man the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!")
After a hair-raising chase scene through the complex, which involves lots of cowering and pants-crapping, Patience is flushed through the sewer system and ends up soggy. And dead.
Amazing origins story alert! A gang of feral cats which, for some reason, lives on this deserted patch of pavement, finds her corpse and breathes life into her.
Patience wakes up in her apartment the next morning with no idea how she got there, and begins discovering her newly-acquired feline powers.
She and the cop play a weirdly-erotic basketball game which leads to...nothing.
Donning a wildly impractical S&M-style outfit, Patience foils a robbery. Like any good vigilante, she steals some jewels for herself.
Don't get too excited -- she gives them back (in a paper sack, no less) the next day. Oh, but she keeps one piece, this necklace with claws, and uses it for part of her stupid costume.
Patience eventually starts to wonder what the hell is going on (you know, after she's made the suit and foiled a robbery and whatnot), so she pays a visit to this crazy cat lady, at which point she, and unfortunately we the viewer, are treated to the long and mundane story of cats with powers throughout history.
At some point, she tells off Evil CEO and is subsequently fired. But she isn't too upset about this apparent lack of income. There are probably lots of jobs out there for hybrid catwomen in leather suits.
Patience takes her friend to the hospital. We learn more about the Evil cream.
Evil Wife opines that this cream will eventually turn one's face to marble...a fact which surely will not come into play later. Uh-huh.
Tomcat cop realizes Patience is in heat, and they get busy alley-cat style. This is a (boring) conflict of interest since he's attempting to capture Catwoman.
She remembers her boss is the one responsible for her death (actually the wife, but she's not that bright) while at the opera. The cop figures out that Patience is Catwoman, and so on.
Patience goes to the boss's house to get him, but his ridiculous wife has gotten to him first. The wife attempts to frame Patience for the crime, and, after a night in jail, a cat fight ensues.
Due to the marble-skin thing, Patience can't seem to hit her.
But the Evil Wife falls to her death, and Patience is cleared.
She goes about her business, a free (cat)woman. Cue Dear John letter to the cop and a stupid montage of her sashaying down the street. Straight out of a Greek tragedy, this one.
Snarky movie discussion:
The theme for today's discussion will be "Cat got your conscience: An psychological examination of the Catwoman in contemporary society".
ANG: Please comment on the character of Patience/Catwoman in light of a late 20th century feminist consciousness? Focusing in particular on her choice of outfits.
CRABS: What an excellent and relevant question, it's almost as if you're a professional at this. The constantly evolving nature of Patience's outfits during the movie serves as a subtle, nay brilliantly near-subconscious, visual manifestation of her evolving feminist morals. This clearly channels current social memes in which feminine identity is inherently, yet paradoxically, tailored to and simultaneously generative of fashion trends. As my grandpappy Wilbur T. Crabtree always said "the clothes make the woman, and the woman wears the clothes".
ANG: Uh....
CRABS: Next question please.
ANG: In the movie, Patience and her cop boyfriend have virtually no physical chemistry between them. Do you feel that this was a deliberate decision on the part of the filmmakers to illustrate a decline in romantic love in our current society.
CRABS: It's a well documented fact that the incessant modern struggle between urban and rural, futurist and regressionist, science and religion has destroyed our collective historical notion of romance. According to recent data, nearly 91.34% of Americans report a 15% decline in spontaneous amorous feelings and a whopping 115% decline in the belief in the "erotic American dream". I see this film as a sad, yet accurate, depiction of the state of modern romance: detached urbanites engaging in unfulfilling flings between hectic work schedules and jewelry store heists. If the Bard were alive today looking for modern day inspiration for Romeo and Juliet he would invariably cry in his beer and say "tisk, tisk, shame on thee, for thee haveth no booty in thy life".
ANG: Since the release of this film it has become the butt of many jokes for its perceived "badness". While it is true that the film features non-existent acting, laughable dialogue, unintentionally hilarious special effects and a general odor of cat vomit I believe a larger debate rages: is this film actually wholly terrible or is our hatred of it a commentary on the decline of art in western society.
CRABS: Yet again I congratulate you on an excellent question, indeed a question that needed to be asked. I see this as actually a question about Fate vs. Self-Determination. If this movie is truly as bad as everyone seems to think then aren't we bound by Fate to perceive it as another chipped cog in the defunct machine of modern art? Are we not all coerced therefore, into Luddite-esque condemnations of this film, social lemmings if you will hurling themselves off the cliff of late 20th century anything goes moral bankruptcy? Some speak of the "decline of western art" yet I submit that this is a fallacious assertion. Art is a reflection of social trends, yet social trends are a product of politics and history. History tends to be revisionist in nature and politics morally corrupt and vacuous, therefore to expect anything other than intolerable crap from the "artistic establishment" is self-delusional and wrong. In this sense Catwoman is a shining beacon of modern art and an achievement that will immortalize the capricious nature of our time.
ANG: Sorry I fell asleep there for a minute. Are you finished?
Crabs: Quite.
For next time:
Ring ring...ring ring... What's the sound you say? Why I believe its a Booty Call. Yes, that's right, Ang and Crabs delve into the twisted and hilarious world of this irreverent comedy next time. Bring your eye gouges and ear plugs, you'll need them.
Rating: Seven sticks in the eye (and a cat-o-nine-tails to the groin).
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Spice World -- So I Really, Really Wanna Wanna Forget I Watched This Movie
Note: Ang & Crabs would like to thank the thousands who sent condolences upon the death of Josephine, or beloved Cliche-O-Tron. It is wonderful to know that so many are with us in our time of sadness.
Facts: Flashback to the go-go 90s. The U.S. was just basking in the glory of the First Gulf War (the less said about the Second Gulf War, the better). The stock market was inflating itself to new, untenable heights. So indeed, the sewage pump had been expertly primed to usher forth a British import the likes of which America had never seen. No, we're not talking about Austin Powers. And we're certainly not talking about The Beatles, because they were actually, you know, good. No, we're talking about five sassy British lasses, the biggest female singing group of all time. Yes, the Spice Girls. (They really were the biggest all-girl group, we're not making this up.) You remember them, don't you? Well, you will by the end of this post. Cue cast: The Sporty One, the Poshy One, the Wingy Baby One, the Frightful One, and Cheeky One. And also some other people, such as surprise guests stars Elton John, Elvis Costello, Roger Moore, Alan Cumming, and George Wendt. With an all-star cast like that, what could possibly go wrong? (Ha.)
Plot summary: The girls spend several days tooling around London in their double-decker Union Jack bus with their uptight manager Clifford. They bumble from location to location on some sort of publicity tour. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, an evil tabloid mogul is plotting to break up the group by sowing dissension in some convoluted plot to sell more papers. Meanwhile, the girls have some random pregnant friend who pops up every now and again to remind the girls of what's really important in life. And for the intellectual types out there, a minor subplot about a pretentious documentary film crew making a movie about the Spice Girls. A movie about people making a movie about a movie. So meta?
Key moments of interest:
Cue an ass-kicking (girl power!) rehearsal.
Heavily pregnant Penny reveals that her worthless loser of a boyfriend has left her and promptly nominated all five Spice Girls as godparents. (Would you leave your children with the Spice Girls?)
A film crew with nothing better to do reveals plans to film the Spice Girls.
The director's ambition: to reveal the emotion behind the Spice Girls. Uh, good luck with that.
At a totally 90s party, we learn that the girls are multi-layered. (Ginger is actually a member of Mensa, and Posh likes more than fashion.)
For some reason, their manager's boss is Alan Moore. Who is evil. We know this because he has a lair, and he strokes animals in said lair. (Insert dirty joke here.)
Tabloid mogul is complaining about lagging newspaper staff, and decides to break up the group. He hires some random paparazzi guy to harass them.
Inside the Union Jack Spicemobile, the girls have forgotten their plans to be more well-rounded, and are doing stereotypical things. (Sporty is exercising, Baby is in a swing, blah blah.)
Meatloaf is driving the bus. ("I love those girls, and I'd do anything for them, but I won't do that.")
They meet Elton John. God save the queen. Nothing happens. Elton leaves promptly to cash his paycheck for appearing in this movie.
The girls are determined to be incredible dancers as well as singers (!) and are put through their paces by a demented gay dance instructor.
They meet some aliens. In the woods. The less said, the better.
Two lucky Spice Girls fans go on a date with the Spice Girls. But the dream turns to disaster when a well-thought-out plan to steal a speedboat goes awry, and both fans are dumped in the Thames. The movie, unfortunately, survives.
Paparazzi Guy gets this all on film, and Clifford is incensed to see this incident in the tabloids.
A tearful and emotional confrontation: more to the girls than meets the eye. You know, like transformers.
Clifford gets drunk and has a totally random and useless one night stand with his assistant. We saw this tangent coming from a mile away.
The two aspiring movie producers pitch their idea to Clifford, with a plot that hilariously follows the plot of the REAL movie. (A nod to intellectualism if we've ever seen one.)
Another stroke of genius: the girls take pregnant Penny, soon-to-be Mother of the Year, clubbing, where she promptly goes into labor.
Meatloaf rushes them to the hospital, and the girls become labor coaches. Wearing the same hideous outfits from before. (Seriously, Scary wears the ugliest clothes.)
In the hospital, they hear two young girls excited about their plans to see the Spice Girls in concert. This rekindles their love of...cough...music.
Posh drives at breakneck speed through the streets of London, driving over the Tower Bridge just in time, and they arrive at the concert hall with moments to spare.
Their prima donna manager is moments away from hanging himself, so it's perfect timing. (That is, if you want to see him live.)
Then there's a long concert scene. It's really boring.
Snarky movie discussion:
The theme of today's discussion is Spice World as an agent of the revitalization of feminism in the 20th century.
Crabs: Some might argue that the masculinity implicit in the 80s via the dominance of 1. the Cold War, and 2. trickle-down Reaganomics perhaps blunted the razor-edge of 1970s-era feminism. I've heard this point argued ad nauseum. Would you agree therefore the emergence of the Spice Girls and subsequent "Girl Power" movement during the 90s was an obvious antecedent of the previous decade?
Ang: I would argue that the Spice Girls are direct descendants of artists such as Chrissy Hynde and Joan Jett. This may seem antithetical given the latter artists' "tougher" facade. However, as we see in the movie, each Spice Girl has an inner strength which she uses to forge her way in a post-9/11 world. Even though 9/11 hasn't happened yet. I posit that the Spice Girls in fact represent a softer kind of feminism, which, in light of the aforementioned 80s backlash, is a subversive technique to bring feminism to a new generation.
Crabs: At several points throughout the movie, we see Ginger Spice struggling to gain recognition for her intellectual achievements despite her prevalent hooker boots and legless pants. However, despite her best efforts, she is able to gain very little traction in regards to this issue. Does this imply the glass ceiling is still firmly in place in the music industry and therefore by extension in society at large?
Ang: I'm glad you asked this. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but my latest dissertation, entitled "The Spice Girls: A Post-Modern View of Feminism for a New Generation post-2001," discusses this very point at length. If you wish to read the entire publication, you can contract my alma mater, the Provincial University of Manitoba.
Crabs: Go Fighting Caribous!
Ang: Yes, yes. To whit, my thesis is as follows: Ginger Spice's at times "slutty" attire is in fact a disguise for her considerable intellectual prowess. Much as the Islamic world has embraced the burka, Ginger's continued reliance on skimpy clothing choices in fact masks her intelligence so that she is able to covertly subvert the status quo.
Crabs: The Spice Girls themselves, while being clever caricatures of personality stereotypes, also serve to reinforce the established British class system, with its minute yet relevant distinctions, so the continued presence of these class paradigms in 90s pop music clearly indicates the failure of Thatcher-esque egalitarianism. Please comment on this.
Ang: Are you suggesting that the girls are somehow a representation of Tony Blair-era Labour politics?
Crabs: The connection between pop music and politics is clearly documented throughout history; therefore, my answer would be a definitive yes. So my follow-up question to you is: if Tony Blair were a Spice Girl, which one would he be? And why?
Ang: Such a rich question. It is my assertion that Tony Blair would in fact be Sporty Spice, a clear peon to the working man, so to speak. As we see throughout the movie, Sporty is continually compelled to act in a prescribed manner (i.e. that of a tomboy) despite her obvious interests in clothes and other "girly" pursuits. This indicates that though she struggles to overcome her working class roots, she has as yet been unsuccessful. Much in the way that Tony Blair continually strives to better the lives of working class Britons, yet always comes up short.
Crabs: The Spice Girls recently launched a comeback tour, to great fanfare. So one could say that the Spice Girls have thus become Spice Women. What do you think this says about the "Girl Power" movement as an evolutionary force in contemporary society?
Ang: As you are undoubtedly aware, though the above-mentioned comeback tour was launched with great expectation, it did not do as well as one might have hoped. To me, this indicates that the "Girl Power" movement, as you call it, has been diluted over the years, and that the mere mention of such a ideology is more powerful than the ideology itself, much in the way that the image of the Spice Girls is more compelling than they are at this point in history.
Well, that's all for now. Ang and Crabs are off to re-plumb the depths of this classic using their newly-acquired Criterion edition of Spice World.
Rating: three sticks in the eye (and a pair of leopard-print hot pants).
Facts: Flashback to the go-go 90s. The U.S. was just basking in the glory of the First Gulf War (the less said about the Second Gulf War, the better). The stock market was inflating itself to new, untenable heights. So indeed, the sewage pump had been expertly primed to usher forth a British import the likes of which America had never seen. No, we're not talking about Austin Powers. And we're certainly not talking about The Beatles, because they were actually, you know, good. No, we're talking about five sassy British lasses, the biggest female singing group of all time. Yes, the Spice Girls. (They really were the biggest all-girl group, we're not making this up.) You remember them, don't you? Well, you will by the end of this post. Cue cast: The Sporty One, the Poshy One, the Wingy Baby One, the Frightful One, and Cheeky One. And also some other people, such as surprise guests stars Elton John, Elvis Costello, Roger Moore, Alan Cumming, and George Wendt. With an all-star cast like that, what could possibly go wrong? (Ha.)
Plot summary: The girls spend several days tooling around London in their double-decker Union Jack bus with their uptight manager Clifford. They bumble from location to location on some sort of publicity tour. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, an evil tabloid mogul is plotting to break up the group by sowing dissension in some convoluted plot to sell more papers. Meanwhile, the girls have some random pregnant friend who pops up every now and again to remind the girls of what's really important in life. And for the intellectual types out there, a minor subplot about a pretentious documentary film crew making a movie about the Spice Girls. A movie about people making a movie about a movie. So meta?
Key moments of interest:
Cue an ass-kicking (girl power!) rehearsal.
Heavily pregnant Penny reveals that her worthless loser of a boyfriend has left her and promptly nominated all five Spice Girls as godparents. (Would you leave your children with the Spice Girls?)
A film crew with nothing better to do reveals plans to film the Spice Girls.
The director's ambition: to reveal the emotion behind the Spice Girls. Uh, good luck with that.
At a totally 90s party, we learn that the girls are multi-layered. (Ginger is actually a member of Mensa, and Posh likes more than fashion.)
For some reason, their manager's boss is Alan Moore. Who is evil. We know this because he has a lair, and he strokes animals in said lair. (Insert dirty joke here.)
Tabloid mogul is complaining about lagging newspaper staff, and decides to break up the group. He hires some random paparazzi guy to harass them.
Inside the Union Jack Spicemobile, the girls have forgotten their plans to be more well-rounded, and are doing stereotypical things. (Sporty is exercising, Baby is in a swing, blah blah.)
Meatloaf is driving the bus. ("I love those girls, and I'd do anything for them, but I won't do that.")
They meet Elton John. God save the queen. Nothing happens. Elton leaves promptly to cash his paycheck for appearing in this movie.
The girls are determined to be incredible dancers as well as singers (!) and are put through their paces by a demented gay dance instructor.
They meet some aliens. In the woods. The less said, the better.
Two lucky Spice Girls fans go on a date with the Spice Girls. But the dream turns to disaster when a well-thought-out plan to steal a speedboat goes awry, and both fans are dumped in the Thames. The movie, unfortunately, survives.
Paparazzi Guy gets this all on film, and Clifford is incensed to see this incident in the tabloids.
A tearful and emotional confrontation: more to the girls than meets the eye. You know, like transformers.
Clifford gets drunk and has a totally random and useless one night stand with his assistant. We saw this tangent coming from a mile away.
The two aspiring movie producers pitch their idea to Clifford, with a plot that hilariously follows the plot of the REAL movie. (A nod to intellectualism if we've ever seen one.)
Another stroke of genius: the girls take pregnant Penny, soon-to-be Mother of the Year, clubbing, where she promptly goes into labor.
Meatloaf rushes them to the hospital, and the girls become labor coaches. Wearing the same hideous outfits from before. (Seriously, Scary wears the ugliest clothes.)
In the hospital, they hear two young girls excited about their plans to see the Spice Girls in concert. This rekindles their love of...cough...music.
Posh drives at breakneck speed through the streets of London, driving over the Tower Bridge just in time, and they arrive at the concert hall with moments to spare.
Their prima donna manager is moments away from hanging himself, so it's perfect timing. (That is, if you want to see him live.)
Then there's a long concert scene. It's really boring.
Snarky movie discussion:
The theme of today's discussion is Spice World as an agent of the revitalization of feminism in the 20th century.
Crabs: Some might argue that the masculinity implicit in the 80s via the dominance of 1. the Cold War, and 2. trickle-down Reaganomics perhaps blunted the razor-edge of 1970s-era feminism. I've heard this point argued ad nauseum. Would you agree therefore the emergence of the Spice Girls and subsequent "Girl Power" movement during the 90s was an obvious antecedent of the previous decade?
Ang: I would argue that the Spice Girls are direct descendants of artists such as Chrissy Hynde and Joan Jett. This may seem antithetical given the latter artists' "tougher" facade. However, as we see in the movie, each Spice Girl has an inner strength which she uses to forge her way in a post-9/11 world. Even though 9/11 hasn't happened yet. I posit that the Spice Girls in fact represent a softer kind of feminism, which, in light of the aforementioned 80s backlash, is a subversive technique to bring feminism to a new generation.
Crabs: At several points throughout the movie, we see Ginger Spice struggling to gain recognition for her intellectual achievements despite her prevalent hooker boots and legless pants. However, despite her best efforts, she is able to gain very little traction in regards to this issue. Does this imply the glass ceiling is still firmly in place in the music industry and therefore by extension in society at large?
Ang: I'm glad you asked this. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but my latest dissertation, entitled "The Spice Girls: A Post-Modern View of Feminism for a New Generation post-2001," discusses this very point at length. If you wish to read the entire publication, you can contract my alma mater, the Provincial University of Manitoba.
Crabs: Go Fighting Caribous!
Ang: Yes, yes. To whit, my thesis is as follows: Ginger Spice's at times "slutty" attire is in fact a disguise for her considerable intellectual prowess. Much as the Islamic world has embraced the burka, Ginger's continued reliance on skimpy clothing choices in fact masks her intelligence so that she is able to covertly subvert the status quo.
Crabs: The Spice Girls themselves, while being clever caricatures of personality stereotypes, also serve to reinforce the established British class system, with its minute yet relevant distinctions, so the continued presence of these class paradigms in 90s pop music clearly indicates the failure of Thatcher-esque egalitarianism. Please comment on this.
Ang: Are you suggesting that the girls are somehow a representation of Tony Blair-era Labour politics?
Crabs: The connection between pop music and politics is clearly documented throughout history; therefore, my answer would be a definitive yes. So my follow-up question to you is: if Tony Blair were a Spice Girl, which one would he be? And why?
Ang: Such a rich question. It is my assertion that Tony Blair would in fact be Sporty Spice, a clear peon to the working man, so to speak. As we see throughout the movie, Sporty is continually compelled to act in a prescribed manner (i.e. that of a tomboy) despite her obvious interests in clothes and other "girly" pursuits. This indicates that though she struggles to overcome her working class roots, she has as yet been unsuccessful. Much in the way that Tony Blair continually strives to better the lives of working class Britons, yet always comes up short.
Crabs: The Spice Girls recently launched a comeback tour, to great fanfare. So one could say that the Spice Girls have thus become Spice Women. What do you think this says about the "Girl Power" movement as an evolutionary force in contemporary society?
Ang: As you are undoubtedly aware, though the above-mentioned comeback tour was launched with great expectation, it did not do as well as one might have hoped. To me, this indicates that the "Girl Power" movement, as you call it, has been diluted over the years, and that the mere mention of such a ideology is more powerful than the ideology itself, much in the way that the image of the Spice Girls is more compelling than they are at this point in history.
Well, that's all for now. Ang and Crabs are off to re-plumb the depths of this classic using their newly-acquired Criterion edition of Spice World.
Rating: three sticks in the eye (and a pair of leopard-print hot pants).
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Perfect Storm -- A Perfectly Cliche Movie
Note: Due to overuse, the Cliche-O-Tron in ICBIWT headquarters has suffered a broken flux capacitor. This is a critical research tool for Ang & Crabs, and if you would like to donate to the Cliche-a-Tron Relief Fund, Jerry Lewis will be sponsoring a telethon next month. More details to come.
Facts: Some noteworthy events of 2000 include: The world did not come to an end, despite the "election" of GWB. The St. Louis Rams won the Superbowl. Microsoft released yet another OS behemoth. Vermont legalized same-sex unions. And a tour-de-force roared into movie theaters nationwide. Okay, really, yet another piece of uninspired Hollywood claptrap landed with a splash in a cinema near you. Starring some of Hollywood's finest: George "Pretty Boy" Clooney, Mark "Multi-Talented" Wahlberg, Diane "I'm Inexplicably Playing a 25-Year-Old" Lane, John C. "Never a Leading Man" Reilly, and a hodgepodge cast of miscellaneous weather-beaten fisherfolk.
Plot summary: In the briney yet idyllic Massachusetts hamlet of Gloucester, swordfish captain Billy Tyne (Clooney) concludes the fishing season on a down note, much to the chagrin of his overbearing boss and the amusement of his pseudo love interest. After a rowdy celebration at the local watering hole, which features every type of debauchery and indulgence, including, but not limited to, excessive drinking, one night stands (and premarital sex!), swearing, you get the idea. We can only decide that in a drunken stupor, Clooney decides to head out again for the big score that will surely improve everyone's lives. Nothing could possibly go wrong. In between ignoring every possible warning sign of impending doom, the crew finds time to squabble amongst themselves before motoring themselves into the middle of the previously alluded to perfect storm, which, despite a courageous and valiant effort, ultimately gets the best of our seafearing heroes and they play the game too many men in a phone booth, except it's in Davy Jones's locker. Yeah, so they all die. Every one of 'em.
Key moments of interest:
The (motley) fishing crew returns, and have uninteresting reunions with girlfriends, wives, etc.
Oh, to be young and in love and in New England again. (And impoverished.)
Seems Clooney has lost his razor's edge when it comes to findin' them thar fish. Yarrrr.
He was bested by a female captain. Shatter that glass ceiling, baby!
Well, that catch sucked. Let's go get drunk!
Christina (Lane), the braless wonder, "bounces" down the stairs to meet her studly boyfriend, Bobby (Wahlberg). She looks good for being, like, 75.
Character development time!
Murph (Reilly) has a son from a previous marriage and according to Little Johnny Bigmouth: "Mommy has a new boyfriend!"
Pierre, aka The Foreigner, likes to knock dem boots, much to the delight of the entire bar below.
Bugsy can't get laid to save his life, but eventually finds a glimmer of hope in a gruff barfly named Irene.
Bobby and Christina are disgustingly in love and seem to have melded into one Boston-accented amorous blob.
Billy is lonely and brooding. Just what everyone wants in a sea captain.
(At this point in time, the indicator light in the Cliche-O-Tron seems to have burned out.)
Billy informs the crew that they're going out again. Because by god, he'll find those fish! He always has and he always will! (Famous last words.)
Cue wise villagers..."Going back to the Grand Banks at this time of year is suicide!"
Domestic violence warning: Bobby gets a shiner from Christina when she finds out he's leaving yet again. Them east coast girls is spunky!
The crew's almost complete. The last cog in this perfect machine would be Murph's hated rival, wife-stealer Sully.
The crew heads out into open waters, to much fanfare.
Oh wait, what's that dark cloud on the horizon? Onward, ho!
Some random meteorologist in Boston, we'll call him Comb-over, is going to explain the impending disaster: "Well, what we have here is a recipe for disaster. We've got this doohickey over here and this hurricane over here, and this jet stream up here, and well by gosh, if those three come together at the same time, we could have ourselves a...what's the term I'm looking for...a perfect storm! But that probably won't happen. Maybe."
Oh no, some random boaters somewhere are trapped in a hurricane or something! Why should you care? Hard to say...
Defying all known laws of physics, a Coast Guard helicopter flies through the hurricane to rescue these poor saps.
Never again will man dare to laugh in the face of Mother Nature's fury!
Oh wait...what's that I hear? It sounds like laughing.
Meanwhile back at the Grand Banks, the crew is striking out yet again. Swordfish are hard to come by.
"There just ain't no fish around here, cap'n!"
The fishing goes from bad to much, much worse when they somehow catch a Great White shark, which latches onto one of the crew members (Bobby) and tries to chomp his foot off.
It's a good thing he was wearing shark-proof rubber boots!
Moron Murph is hooked and falls overboard, only to be saved from certain death by his (as you'll recall) hated rival, Sully.
(The Cliche-O-Tron is belching smoke. Perhaps it blew a belt or has a loose gasket.)
In the face of mounting mutiny, Cap'n Crusty Beard decides, instead of packing it in, they're going to motor out further to the dreaded Flemish Cap. Not the Flemish Cap, are you crazy!!!
Oh, is it getting even darker over there on the horizon, Cap'n?
"Don't worry, Bobby. This old boat's been through worse."
Party time at the Flemish Cap! Swordfish in abundance!
The celebration comes to an abrupt end when the crew realizes that their cheapskate boss overhauled the ice machine instead of replacing it, forcing them to return to port prematurely.
The townsfolk are worried. They've never seen a storm quite like this before.
Old sea captain Barnacle Pete: "This be the worst storm in nigh on 1,000 years, says I!"
(Is that thumping, vibrating noise coming from the Cliche-O-Tron? Perhaps its rationality modulator has come untethered.)
Christina, who just rented a crappy new apartment for her and Bobby, is understandably peeved.
Meanwhile, back at the meteorologist's news station, the intern says, "Well, that can't possibly be a perfect storm a-brewin'!"
Meteorologist Guy: "Oh, you better believe it. That's a...PERFECT STORM! God help anyone foolish enough to be out fishing with a busted ice machine."
The crew is mid-battle when the windshield gets knocked out by one of their anchors.
The fearless captain ventures out onto the boon to cut it loose. Oh, the suspense...
The crew is up against 20-foot waves! 3o-foot waves! 50 foot waves! A pants-crapping 100-foot wave!
Cap'n Pretty Boy decides they're going to beat the wave at its own game and drive up the side of it, a plan which, despite its genius, doesn't work so well.
Cue the capsizing, drowning, etc.
But wait! Bobby somehow made it out alive! (But he ends up drowning anyway, so it doesn't matter.)
Back on land, the families of the fallen hold a memorial service for the drowned boneheads.
Lady Cap'n: "They were wonderful people and they loved life. But more than life, they loved the sea."
(Oh God! The Cliche-O-Tron's on fire! Get the fire extinguisher!)
Snarky movie discussion:
Due to the stress of making funeral arrangements for the Cliche-O-Tron, Ang & Crabs were not able to have a snarky movie discussion for this entry. Once they have dealt sufficiently with their grief, this feature will return. They would like to leave you with one question to ponder: If the Cap'n Clooney inside of you were in a similar situation, would he have decided to stay in port to go out again? Think on this, and what this says about you as a person. And if need be, go get sloppy drunk in the tradition of the finest seamen.
Rating: four sticks in the eye (plus the Josephine K. Cliche-O-Tron Award for most uninspired screenplay of 2000.)
RIP, Josephine the Cliche-O-Tron, 2009-2009.
Those footprints in the sand are from when we carried you.
Facts: Some noteworthy events of 2000 include: The world did not come to an end, despite the "election" of GWB. The St. Louis Rams won the Superbowl. Microsoft released yet another OS behemoth. Vermont legalized same-sex unions. And a tour-de-force roared into movie theaters nationwide. Okay, really, yet another piece of uninspired Hollywood claptrap landed with a splash in a cinema near you. Starring some of Hollywood's finest: George "Pretty Boy" Clooney, Mark "Multi-Talented" Wahlberg, Diane "I'm Inexplicably Playing a 25-Year-Old" Lane, John C. "Never a Leading Man" Reilly, and a hodgepodge cast of miscellaneous weather-beaten fisherfolk.
Plot summary: In the briney yet idyllic Massachusetts hamlet of Gloucester, swordfish captain Billy Tyne (Clooney) concludes the fishing season on a down note, much to the chagrin of his overbearing boss and the amusement of his pseudo love interest. After a rowdy celebration at the local watering hole, which features every type of debauchery and indulgence, including, but not limited to, excessive drinking, one night stands (and premarital sex!), swearing, you get the idea. We can only decide that in a drunken stupor, Clooney decides to head out again for the big score that will surely improve everyone's lives. Nothing could possibly go wrong. In between ignoring every possible warning sign of impending doom, the crew finds time to squabble amongst themselves before motoring themselves into the middle of the previously alluded to perfect storm, which, despite a courageous and valiant effort, ultimately gets the best of our seafearing heroes and they play the game too many men in a phone booth, except it's in Davy Jones's locker. Yeah, so they all die. Every one of 'em.
Key moments of interest:
The (motley) fishing crew returns, and have uninteresting reunions with girlfriends, wives, etc.
Oh, to be young and in love and in New England again. (And impoverished.)
Seems Clooney has lost his razor's edge when it comes to findin' them thar fish. Yarrrr.
He was bested by a female captain. Shatter that glass ceiling, baby!
Well, that catch sucked. Let's go get drunk!
Christina (Lane), the braless wonder, "bounces" down the stairs to meet her studly boyfriend, Bobby (Wahlberg). She looks good for being, like, 75.
Character development time!
Murph (Reilly) has a son from a previous marriage and according to Little Johnny Bigmouth: "Mommy has a new boyfriend!"
Pierre, aka The Foreigner, likes to knock dem boots, much to the delight of the entire bar below.
Bugsy can't get laid to save his life, but eventually finds a glimmer of hope in a gruff barfly named Irene.
Bobby and Christina are disgustingly in love and seem to have melded into one Boston-accented amorous blob.
Billy is lonely and brooding. Just what everyone wants in a sea captain.
(At this point in time, the indicator light in the Cliche-O-Tron seems to have burned out.)
Billy informs the crew that they're going out again. Because by god, he'll find those fish! He always has and he always will! (Famous last words.)
Cue wise villagers..."Going back to the Grand Banks at this time of year is suicide!"
Domestic violence warning: Bobby gets a shiner from Christina when she finds out he's leaving yet again. Them east coast girls is spunky!
The crew's almost complete. The last cog in this perfect machine would be Murph's hated rival, wife-stealer Sully.
The crew heads out into open waters, to much fanfare.
Oh wait, what's that dark cloud on the horizon? Onward, ho!
Some random meteorologist in Boston, we'll call him Comb-over, is going to explain the impending disaster: "Well, what we have here is a recipe for disaster. We've got this doohickey over here and this hurricane over here, and this jet stream up here, and well by gosh, if those three come together at the same time, we could have ourselves a...what's the term I'm looking for...a perfect storm! But that probably won't happen. Maybe."
Oh no, some random boaters somewhere are trapped in a hurricane or something! Why should you care? Hard to say...
Defying all known laws of physics, a Coast Guard helicopter flies through the hurricane to rescue these poor saps.
Never again will man dare to laugh in the face of Mother Nature's fury!
Oh wait...what's that I hear? It sounds like laughing.
Meanwhile back at the Grand Banks, the crew is striking out yet again. Swordfish are hard to come by.
"There just ain't no fish around here, cap'n!"
The fishing goes from bad to much, much worse when they somehow catch a Great White shark, which latches onto one of the crew members (Bobby) and tries to chomp his foot off.
It's a good thing he was wearing shark-proof rubber boots!
Moron Murph is hooked and falls overboard, only to be saved from certain death by his (as you'll recall) hated rival, Sully.
(The Cliche-O-Tron is belching smoke. Perhaps it blew a belt or has a loose gasket.)
In the face of mounting mutiny, Cap'n Crusty Beard decides, instead of packing it in, they're going to motor out further to the dreaded Flemish Cap. Not the Flemish Cap, are you crazy!!!
Oh, is it getting even darker over there on the horizon, Cap'n?
"Don't worry, Bobby. This old boat's been through worse."
Party time at the Flemish Cap! Swordfish in abundance!
The celebration comes to an abrupt end when the crew realizes that their cheapskate boss overhauled the ice machine instead of replacing it, forcing them to return to port prematurely.
The townsfolk are worried. They've never seen a storm quite like this before.
Old sea captain Barnacle Pete: "This be the worst storm in nigh on 1,000 years, says I!"
(Is that thumping, vibrating noise coming from the Cliche-O-Tron? Perhaps its rationality modulator has come untethered.)
Christina, who just rented a crappy new apartment for her and Bobby, is understandably peeved.
Meanwhile, back at the meteorologist's news station, the intern says, "Well, that can't possibly be a perfect storm a-brewin'!"
Meteorologist Guy: "Oh, you better believe it. That's a...PERFECT STORM! God help anyone foolish enough to be out fishing with a busted ice machine."
The crew is mid-battle when the windshield gets knocked out by one of their anchors.
The fearless captain ventures out onto the boon to cut it loose. Oh, the suspense...
The crew is up against 20-foot waves! 3o-foot waves! 50 foot waves! A pants-crapping 100-foot wave!
Cap'n Pretty Boy decides they're going to beat the wave at its own game and drive up the side of it, a plan which, despite its genius, doesn't work so well.
Cue the capsizing, drowning, etc.
But wait! Bobby somehow made it out alive! (But he ends up drowning anyway, so it doesn't matter.)
Back on land, the families of the fallen hold a memorial service for the drowned boneheads.
Lady Cap'n: "They were wonderful people and they loved life. But more than life, they loved the sea."
(Oh God! The Cliche-O-Tron's on fire! Get the fire extinguisher!)
Snarky movie discussion:
Due to the stress of making funeral arrangements for the Cliche-O-Tron, Ang & Crabs were not able to have a snarky movie discussion for this entry. Once they have dealt sufficiently with their grief, this feature will return. They would like to leave you with one question to ponder: If the Cap'n Clooney inside of you were in a similar situation, would he have decided to stay in port to go out again? Think on this, and what this says about you as a person. And if need be, go get sloppy drunk in the tradition of the finest seamen.
Rating: four sticks in the eye (plus the Josephine K. Cliche-O-Tron Award for most uninspired screenplay of 2000.)
RIP, Josephine the Cliche-O-Tron, 2009-2009.
Those footprints in the sand are from when we carried you.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Street Fighter -- The Cape of Evil
Facts: Street Fighter began as an arcade game, later becoming popular on several consoles. It is, as its name implies, a fighting game. It has no plot to speak of. Therefore, the most logical option is to make a full-length movie based upon it -- who could star in such an obvious tour de force? Orson Wells? Sidney Potier? No, neither of them were available. We need someone whose acting chops are at least as formidable as his muscular frame. Enter...Jean-Claude Van Damme. Also starring Raul Julia (in what would be his last movie), Kylie Minogue, and a bunch of other people confined to the annals of history.
Plot summary: A magnificent cape, which happens to be worn by a tinpot dictator wanna-be, M. Bison (Julia) plots to take over a third-world country you've never heard of and therefore don't care about (that's because it doesn't exist). This ruffles the feathers of the U.N. -- er, we mean A.N. (Allied Nations), so they send in a meddlesome force spearheaded by none other than the fearless Col. Guile (Van Damme, at his cheesiest). Some low-budget action ensues, which somehow embroils the familiar Street Fighter cast in a deliciously sweet crap brulee, which goes down as easily as a jagged metal Krusty-O.
Key moments of interest:
The costume designer for M. Bison has his own opening credit. This does not bode well.
Crackpot Bison (complete with skull cape) gives us a tour of his impressive styrofoam lair.
M. Bison: "If I don't get 50 BILLION dollars, stat, I'll kill every one of these hostages."
(Taking a break to do some quick math: that's 2.5 billion per platinum-plated hostage.)
Requisite shoving hostages into pit scene. Necks break and so on.
Resident Asian reporter Chun-Li provides a convenient retrospective on the conflict in Shandaloo (it's really called that.)
Guile gives an impassioned interview and vows to bring down Bison at any cost. (Passion or constipation? We can't be sure.)
We learn that one of Bison's hostages is Guile's BFF Blanka.
Bison uses his satellite to broadcast his sinister message. Where's the FCC when you need them?
We meet two more of our protagonists (if you call them that), Ken and Ryu, who turn out to be upstanding citizens/gun-runners (and not very good ones).
Local criminal mastermind Sagat discovers that these two morons have sold him nerf guns, and a beat-fest commences.
Just as Ken and Ryu are about to get their asses kicked, the whole lot of them (masterminds and all) are arrested by A.N. officials and hauled off in a paddywagon
Guile decides they need a man on the inside of Sagat's operation (because, as we see, Sagat is running guns for M. Bison). Note the convoluted and highly complex plot at work here.
Ken and Ryu put on their snitch hats and proceed to ingratiate themselves into Sagat's inner circle.
Cue prison riot. OMG, they killed Guile!
Bison puts his real estate license to good use, revealing his plans for Bisonopolis. Condos starting in the mid-700s. Complete with half off all torture devices for your first year of occupancy.
Hottie reporter Chun-Li, reinforcing delightful stereotypes, dons her little black cat suit (like all reporters wear) and goes off to investigate Guile's death.
Turns out she has a grudge against...you guessed it, Mr. Popularity, M. Bison, who...killed her father or burned her village...or something.
OMG, Guile's a zombie! No, wait, he's just alive after all.
At M. Bison's coming out ball, Sagat & Co. feature Chun-Li's pseudo-seductive dance.
Bison attempts to pay Sagat with Bison Dollars (which will be worth a lot once Bison kidnaps the Queen of England) which leads to some words being exchanged.
Like all good throw-downs, this one ends with a truck bomb going off.
Meanwhile, back in Shandaloo City, Guile finalizes his plans to storm Bison's compound.
Insert yet another passionate speech, this one to his troops.
Not so fast! An A.N. bigwig pisses on Guile's fire, and we learn that they plan to give into Bison's ludicrous ransom demand.
Defying director orders, Guile soldiers on, and he, his right-hand woman, Cammy, and some disposable minions, cram into some sort of boat and head towards Bison's lair.
Oh, no! The cloaking device has failed! Our perfect plan is in danger!
Back in Bison's lab, Guile's BFF Blanka is being morphed into a killing machine with, inexplicably, green skin and red hair.
Bison Corp. is admirably concerned with safety, as they have plastic bags labeled as "DNA Mutagens" all over the place. Safety first!
Somehow (we're not sure how) Guile and crew get into the compound.
Fighting. (Seriously, it's not that interesting.)
Guile kills Bison! No, wait...Guile kills Bison! No, wait...
Blanka, who has retained some vestige of his humanity, helps them herd the hostages to safety. (Me ashamed to be in movie. Kill me, please.)
Guile's dead! No, wait...
This caravan of atrocities is taken out back and mercifully put down.
In lieu of our normal snarky movie discussion, in conjunction with VH1, ICBIWT will be doing a Behind the Scenes special.
First up...Cammy. You wouldn't think it, but this role was actually played by the talented singer Kylie Minogue. Whether this was an attempt on her part to expand her career into film, or perhaps she was just bored and looking for something to do, we'll never know. Following the movie, the pinnacle of her career, as it turned out, she fell into a deep depression. In the fall of 2005, friends held an intervention to confront her about her dependency on Fanta and Ricola cough drops, known on the black market as a Swiss Fizz. She was admitted to the Betty Ford Center for Cute Pop Stars, and promptly turned her life around. Kylie is currently touring in support of her new album, Revolutionary Devolutions Electronic Convolutions.
Moving right along...M. Bison. He's dead. Has been for awhile. Oops.
Next...Chung-Li (played by Ming-Na). The versatile actress used this movie as a springboard to launch herself into the stratosphere of Hong Kong action cinema. However, she was crippled in a tragic cobbling accident, and now tours the world as a motivational speaker. She primarily warns people against the dangers of excessive MSG.
Lastly...Guile. Mr. Jean-Claude Van Damme himself. He went on to star in such notable films as the 2007 remake of The King and I (co-starring Sigourney Weaver and Gary Busey). He also reprised his role as Dumbledore in J.K. Rowling's sensational Harry Potter series, and he appeared also in lesser-known French cinema such as Les Enfants de Miserables, a touching tale of forbidden love and sultry passions set in the south of France in the early 1870s. In addition to his considerable movie work, he also founded a non-profit organization, the International Antarctic Orca Legal Defense Fund, which represents orcas on trial for genocide against seals. He was also chosen to take a trip to the International Space Station about one of the Russian space capsules, and became the first man to successfully defeat a space yeti in hand-to-hand zero G caged combat.
For next time: Ice Pirates, a reader-suggested film.
Rating: four sticks in the eye.
Plot summary: A magnificent cape, which happens to be worn by a tinpot dictator wanna-be, M. Bison (Julia) plots to take over a third-world country you've never heard of and therefore don't care about (that's because it doesn't exist). This ruffles the feathers of the U.N. -- er, we mean A.N. (Allied Nations), so they send in a meddlesome force spearheaded by none other than the fearless Col. Guile (Van Damme, at his cheesiest). Some low-budget action ensues, which somehow embroils the familiar Street Fighter cast in a deliciously sweet crap brulee, which goes down as easily as a jagged metal Krusty-O.
Key moments of interest:
The costume designer for M. Bison has his own opening credit. This does not bode well.
Crackpot Bison (complete with skull cape) gives us a tour of his impressive styrofoam lair.
M. Bison: "If I don't get 50 BILLION dollars, stat, I'll kill every one of these hostages."
(Taking a break to do some quick math: that's 2.5 billion per platinum-plated hostage.)
Requisite shoving hostages into pit scene. Necks break and so on.
Resident Asian reporter Chun-Li provides a convenient retrospective on the conflict in Shandaloo (it's really called that.)
Guile gives an impassioned interview and vows to bring down Bison at any cost. (Passion or constipation? We can't be sure.)
We learn that one of Bison's hostages is Guile's BFF Blanka.
Bison uses his satellite to broadcast his sinister message. Where's the FCC when you need them?
We meet two more of our protagonists (if you call them that), Ken and Ryu, who turn out to be upstanding citizens/gun-runners (and not very good ones).
Local criminal mastermind Sagat discovers that these two morons have sold him nerf guns, and a beat-fest commences.
Just as Ken and Ryu are about to get their asses kicked, the whole lot of them (masterminds and all) are arrested by A.N. officials and hauled off in a paddywagon
Guile decides they need a man on the inside of Sagat's operation (because, as we see, Sagat is running guns for M. Bison). Note the convoluted and highly complex plot at work here.
Ken and Ryu put on their snitch hats and proceed to ingratiate themselves into Sagat's inner circle.
Cue prison riot. OMG, they killed Guile!
Bison puts his real estate license to good use, revealing his plans for Bisonopolis. Condos starting in the mid-700s. Complete with half off all torture devices for your first year of occupancy.
Hottie reporter Chun-Li, reinforcing delightful stereotypes, dons her little black cat suit (like all reporters wear) and goes off to investigate Guile's death.
Turns out she has a grudge against...you guessed it, Mr. Popularity, M. Bison, who...killed her father or burned her village...or something.
OMG, Guile's a zombie! No, wait, he's just alive after all.
At M. Bison's coming out ball, Sagat & Co. feature Chun-Li's pseudo-seductive dance.
Bison attempts to pay Sagat with Bison Dollars (which will be worth a lot once Bison kidnaps the Queen of England) which leads to some words being exchanged.
Like all good throw-downs, this one ends with a truck bomb going off.
Meanwhile, back in Shandaloo City, Guile finalizes his plans to storm Bison's compound.
Insert yet another passionate speech, this one to his troops.
Not so fast! An A.N. bigwig pisses on Guile's fire, and we learn that they plan to give into Bison's ludicrous ransom demand.
Defying director orders, Guile soldiers on, and he, his right-hand woman, Cammy, and some disposable minions, cram into some sort of boat and head towards Bison's lair.
Oh, no! The cloaking device has failed! Our perfect plan is in danger!
Back in Bison's lab, Guile's BFF Blanka is being morphed into a killing machine with, inexplicably, green skin and red hair.
Bison Corp. is admirably concerned with safety, as they have plastic bags labeled as "DNA Mutagens" all over the place. Safety first!
Somehow (we're not sure how) Guile and crew get into the compound.
Fighting. (Seriously, it's not that interesting.)
Guile kills Bison! No, wait...Guile kills Bison! No, wait...
Blanka, who has retained some vestige of his humanity, helps them herd the hostages to safety. (Me ashamed to be in movie. Kill me, please.)
Guile's dead! No, wait...
This caravan of atrocities is taken out back and mercifully put down.
In lieu of our normal snarky movie discussion, in conjunction with VH1, ICBIWT will be doing a Behind the Scenes special.
First up...Cammy. You wouldn't think it, but this role was actually played by the talented singer Kylie Minogue. Whether this was an attempt on her part to expand her career into film, or perhaps she was just bored and looking for something to do, we'll never know. Following the movie, the pinnacle of her career, as it turned out, she fell into a deep depression. In the fall of 2005, friends held an intervention to confront her about her dependency on Fanta and Ricola cough drops, known on the black market as a Swiss Fizz. She was admitted to the Betty Ford Center for Cute Pop Stars, and promptly turned her life around. Kylie is currently touring in support of her new album, Revolutionary Devolutions Electronic Convolutions.
Moving right along...M. Bison. He's dead. Has been for awhile. Oops.
Next...Chung-Li (played by Ming-Na). The versatile actress used this movie as a springboard to launch herself into the stratosphere of Hong Kong action cinema. However, she was crippled in a tragic cobbling accident, and now tours the world as a motivational speaker. She primarily warns people against the dangers of excessive MSG.
Lastly...Guile. Mr. Jean-Claude Van Damme himself. He went on to star in such notable films as the 2007 remake of The King and I (co-starring Sigourney Weaver and Gary Busey). He also reprised his role as Dumbledore in J.K. Rowling's sensational Harry Potter series, and he appeared also in lesser-known French cinema such as Les Enfants de Miserables, a touching tale of forbidden love and sultry passions set in the south of France in the early 1870s. In addition to his considerable movie work, he also founded a non-profit organization, the International Antarctic Orca Legal Defense Fund, which represents orcas on trial for genocide against seals. He was also chosen to take a trip to the International Space Station about one of the Russian space capsules, and became the first man to successfully defeat a space yeti in hand-to-hand zero G caged combat.
For next time: Ice Pirates, a reader-suggested film.
Rating: four sticks in the eye.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Showgirls -- Revenge of the Angry, Jiggly Woman
Facts: Joe Eszterhas, the acclaimed "screen writer" for this pile of celluloid crap, later apologized for it. Really, that should be all you need to know, but we here at ICBIWT are not satisfied with such a simple statement. No, Ang and Crabs sat through this movie, and now, as part of their long-term psychotherapy, they're going to tell you about it. Remember when this movie came out in 1995? How it was really controversial for being rated NC-17? Well, the controversy missed the mark entirely. The problem with this movie is not that it is risque (a charge that seems somewhat laughable when you're actually watching it), the problem is that this movie (a term which seems less and less meaningful as time passes) is godawful. No, really. There are no words to describe how bad it is, but we're going to try. Starring Elizabeth "Not Jessie Anymore" Berkeley, Kyle "Shoulda Stayed in Twin Peaks" McLachlan, and Gina "Oh, Christ" Gershon.
Plot summary: Anger-addled, Daisy-Duke wearing loner Nomi Malone (Berkeley) hitches a ride to Vegas to pursue her possibly lifelong passion of becoming a professional dancer, which considering her notable lack of talent, seems like a long shot. But we digress...Somehow her white trash demeanor and incessant explosive temper lead us to believe that this dream will not come to fruition. For all her supposed street smarts, Nomi is nearly immediately hoodwinked by some jackass truck driver, who steals her suitcase. But as luck would have it, she meets her BFF Molly, a hard-working seamstress with a heart of gold, and potential lesbian love interest, almost instantly. Fast forward to a few weeks later: Nomi and Molly are painting the town red, alternating between Molly's trailer and their high-prestige jobs, Molly as a costume designer at the Stardust and Nomi as an extra-sleazy stripper. Their idyllic existence is shattered forever when Molly invites Nomi backstage at the Stardust, where the latter meets Cristal Conners, who, we are lead to believe, is some sort of dance star. After viewing the show from backstage and spastically emulating the dance moves, she catches Cristal's eye and the two forge a love-hate relationship with yet another lesbian undertone (it's about as hot as fertilizing your lawn). While out dancing one night, Nomi meets James, who embarks on a nearly instant quest to get into her pants. What a charmer. Nomi has an especially lovable cast of colleagues at the Cheetah, including Penny, a naive young girl new to Vegas. The scene of her actually falling off of a turnip truck must've been cut for time considerations. Through some irrelevant series of circumstances, Nomi lands a role as a backup dancer in Molly's show, Goddess, and promptly begins sleeping her way to the top. Along the way, she has an intensely unsexy encounter with Zach, show producer at the Stardust, in his pool. (Note: you should stop reading this right now and YouTube this scene. Nomi looks like she is having a seizure, and Zach looks like he is about to vomit all over her.) Always-honest and trustworthy Nomi eventually realizes that James is mentoring/sleeping with Penny from the Cheetah, and was possibly BS-ing her about her "natural talent." After witnessing one of her co-workers sabotage a rival dancer, Nomi gets a few ideas in her head and she and the stairs conspire to end advance her career. Cristal ends up in the hospital, unable to dance for a year or somesuch. Now she's the lead dancer, on top of the world! She's got enough blow to choke a walrus! Sleeping with the producer! She's got it all. The one problem here is that she's ostracized the movie's only likable character, Molly, who warned her from the beginning not to get sucked into this decadent lifestyle. When their favorite singer, Andrew Carver, comes to town (think Yanni but sleazier, if such a thing is possible), Nomi drags Molly to a party with him, and fixes the two of them up, at which point we learn Andrew isn't the good boy that he at first appears, as he and his gang rape squad have their way with Molly upstairs (in a protracted scene which is easily the movie's most disturbing, which is saying a lot, and highly offensive). As her friend is recuperating in the hospital bed, Nomi has an epiphany, realizing that this isn't the life for her. So after getting her revenge on Andrew, with the help of a stiletto heel, she promptly packs up and heads out of town to pursue...well, we don't know, but hopefully but acting.
Key moments of interest:
Pseudo Elvis impersonator picks up sketchy-looking hootchie by the side of the road, thus beginning the epic Showgirls saga.
Elvis's uninspired come-ons are met with a sharp blade.
Upon arriving in Las Vegas, Elvis immediately shows his true colors. Not a good omen for the rest of her stay in town.
Demonstrating a remarkable ability to refute life's lessons, Nomi immediately trusts the next stranger who wanders into her field of vision. Fortunately, this one turns out to be okay.
We see Nomi at work, thrashing and convulsing quite un-erotically, to the joy of the Cheetah's Customers.
Welcome to Uncle Al's Sleazy House of Skeeze.
Take one part pimp mixed with two parts bookie, sprinkle with a generous helping of sleaze, and you've got a dynamite recipe for Al's, Nomi's boss.
Don't forget the rather large lady with the dress that'll make babies cry.
Oh, Nomi, we're done having vaguely erotic-esque undertones. You should come with me to work, since you're a dancer, too.
We see Cristal at her finest, displaying her two modes of existence: dancing topless and acting horny/disdainful.
Cue Nomi giving Zach a lap dance while Cristal looks on. A really long lap dance. Really long.
And while this scene was probably intended to be erotic and arousing, it simply comes off as laughable and pathetic.
FCC-approved lap dance checklist: breast jiggling, check; bending over both backwards and forewards, check; one leg on the shoulder, check; humping of the knee, check; epiletic thrashing about on lap, check.
That was the best $500 lap dance ever!
Nomi and Molly go shopping with her lap dance money, and Nomi buys the only non-slutty item of clothing she owns, a Versace dress (which she pronounces Ver-sayce).
Nomi auditions for the show, and undoubtedly due to a pronounced lack of dance talent, gets in.
She is advised shortly thereafter to be less of a Pollyanna, so she hootches it up. A sign of things to come, definitely.
Nomi takes a break from the exciting world of showgirl dancing and decides to pay a visit to her old friend, James.
Through the din of a turnip truck driving away, she hears a voice in his apartment.
Turns out naive Penny caught onto the Vegas scene pretty quickly.
Since they had no defined relationship, and they're both terrible people, any attempt on the part of the film makers to make us feel bad about this breakup falls flat.
Out with the old, in with the new -- if Nomi can't have James, she might as well sleep with the producer of the show.
Which she does. Tipsy on champagne and flying high on her recent success, the two embark on what looks like the least pleasurable sex ever recorded on film.
Nomi decides to give Zach the night of his life by riding him like a bucking bronco at the county fair. That, or someone threw an electric eel into the pool. It's hard to tell.
Nomi's DARE officer roles over in his grave when she climbs back on the great white powder pony.
At Zach's urging, Nomi auditions to be Cristal's understudy. Surprise, surprise: she's rejected.
A jealous Cristal pulls the rug out from underneath her.
Cristal "trips" down the metal stairs following a performance.
Nomi, did you see anything?
No, I have no idea what happened! Maybe she tripped over a unicorn.
This just in from Vegas: Nomi Malone stars in Goddess!
Molly gives her an ultimatum in a dramatic and heart-rending scene.
One scene later, they're friends again and decide to exploit Nomi's meteoric rise and decide to attend a party where Molly can meet her favorite singer.
Molly and Andrew become fast friends and decide to head upstairs for a little extra-curricular activity.
In a scene which seems to have been added merely to complete this rags to riches to rags tale, Molly is violent assaulted by Andrew and two other thugs.
While she's recovering from her severe injuries in the hospital, Nomi decides that revenge is a dish best served quickly.
She hookers it up and heads to his hotel room.
She must've watched a Bruce Lee DVD on the elevator ride up, and proceeds to kick the shit out of Andrew.
Good-bye to Molly. Good-bye to James. He and Penny are getting married and having a kid.
James leaves her with this time-honored wisdom: Shit happens. Life sucks.
She packs up and heads out of time, improbably landing a ride in a familiar blue pickup truck...
This just in: After driving all night from Seattle, Ang and Crabs have arrived at the Fresno Denny's on 23rd and State to interview Elizabeth Berkeley. In a booth in the back by the men's room, Ang orders a Moons over my Hammy and Crabs a piece of apple pie, and they sit down to interview Elizabeth. She's chain-smoking the last of a pack of Pall Malls and counting the tips stuffed into the bosom of her grease-soaked waitress uniform.
CRABS: First of all, I just want to say thank you for agreeing to meet with us today. We'll have your $50 check and Costco discount coupons mailed to you as soon as we can get back home. We've traveled here to discuss a lot of times, namely the impact the movie Showgirls has had on your life, and to a greater extent, America as a whole.
ELIZABETH: I thought this was an acting audition. That's what my publicist told me. A commercial for Cletus's Used Car Harbor and Bait Shop.
ANG: Oh, we'll get to that soon enough. We just have a few questions first.
CRABS: For many people, your days on Saved By the Bell really defined their childhood memories. Explain to me the decision-making process that led you to conclude that Showgirls was the logical step in your post-Saved acting career. And please don't skimp on the minutiae.
ELIZABETH: The coke-fueled hedonism of the Saved by the Bell set seemed like a natural precursor to this movie. For instance, the guy who played Screech was always bringing blow to the set. That's how I got hooked. And one day I was grinding him in my trailer. When he complimented me on my technique, a love for lap dancing was born.
ANG: Some have charged that the infamous pool scene ruined their sex lives forever. How do you respond to that accusation?
ELIZABETH: Well, I can't speak for Kyle, as I haven't talked to him since the production wrapped -- he won't return my phone calls or Twitter messages -- but personally, at the time I can say that that scene defined in my mind what a "normal" sex experience was supposed to be like. So as you can imagine, in retrospect I realize that this was highly traumatizing for me and led to a few particularly dark and forgetful years in Cleveland which I'd rather not discuss at this time. By the grace of God, and the kind souls at my AA meetings eventually persuaded me to seek some counseling, and I'm now beginning to finally work through and relive some of the subsequent experiences that I can only describe as scarring and debilitating.
ANG: Do you have any children?
ELIZABETH: Oh yes, I have seven lovely children and one more on the way.
CRABS: Upon its release, Showgirls created quite a controversy stemming from its NC-17 rating, and there was quite an uproar about the overt sexuality in this film. Personally, I found the sexual content to be more laughable than stimulating. Not that you didn't put forth a laudable effort. What do you think this says about the way our society views gender roles and sexuality? Are we desensitized?
ELIZABETH: I think you've misjudged the movie terribly. Though the sexual content can seem campy, you have to realize that this is a purposeful effort on my part to reveal the continuing Puritanical nature of American sexuality.
CRABS: How so? That doesn't make any sense. I must've missed the nuance in the screenplay.
(Time out while Crabs chokes on his apple pie.)
ELIZABETH: It just is, okay? Don't make me stick you with my knife.
ANG: You spend at least 50% of this movie topless. Did the nudity bother you?
ELIZABETH: Oh no. In fact, I'm uncomfortable wearing a shirt at all now. I miss having glittery nipples.
CRABS: One of the most impressive features of the film, and that's saying a lot, was the extensive makeup work. In particular, the eye shadow and the nipple painting. How many hours a day did you spend in makeup? And was it enjoyable or just plain tedious? Also, did you pick up any makeup tips while having your nipples painted?
ELIZABETH: I found the 4am makeup sessions to be the calmest part of my day. I would often spend my time reading works of classical philosophy, such as Plato's The Republic, and working on my still-unfinished dissertation titled "Super-sympetry and Invariance in Higher-Dimensional Spaces: A Mathematical Journey."
ANG: What are your plans for the future?
ELIZABETH: First of all, I want to finish my dissertation. I'd also like to do some teaching, and perhaps start a small business. I've always had a passion for dolphin training and working with autistic children. I'd like to combine those somehow.
CRABS: Well, thanks for your time. We've really enjoyed speaking with you.
ELIZABETH: Um, what about the audition?
ANG: Oh, we left the audition materials in the car. We'll both go get it and be right back...
For next time: Ang and Crabs are taking a segue into the action movie category, and will be watching the adrenaline-fueled blockbuster Street Fighter. For the next blog post, Ang will be wearing her Chun-Li outfit, and Crabs will break out his old Marine uniform and dress as General M. Bison...
Rating: twelve sticks in the eye and a razor to the crotch.
Plot summary: Anger-addled, Daisy-Duke wearing loner Nomi Malone (Berkeley) hitches a ride to Vegas to pursue her possibly lifelong passion of becoming a professional dancer, which considering her notable lack of talent, seems like a long shot. But we digress...Somehow her white trash demeanor and incessant explosive temper lead us to believe that this dream will not come to fruition. For all her supposed street smarts, Nomi is nearly immediately hoodwinked by some jackass truck driver, who steals her suitcase. But as luck would have it, she meets her BFF Molly, a hard-working seamstress with a heart of gold, and potential lesbian love interest, almost instantly. Fast forward to a few weeks later: Nomi and Molly are painting the town red, alternating between Molly's trailer and their high-prestige jobs, Molly as a costume designer at the Stardust and Nomi as an extra-sleazy stripper. Their idyllic existence is shattered forever when Molly invites Nomi backstage at the Stardust, where the latter meets Cristal Conners, who, we are lead to believe, is some sort of dance star. After viewing the show from backstage and spastically emulating the dance moves, she catches Cristal's eye and the two forge a love-hate relationship with yet another lesbian undertone (it's about as hot as fertilizing your lawn). While out dancing one night, Nomi meets James, who embarks on a nearly instant quest to get into her pants. What a charmer. Nomi has an especially lovable cast of colleagues at the Cheetah, including Penny, a naive young girl new to Vegas. The scene of her actually falling off of a turnip truck must've been cut for time considerations. Through some irrelevant series of circumstances, Nomi lands a role as a backup dancer in Molly's show, Goddess, and promptly begins sleeping her way to the top. Along the way, she has an intensely unsexy encounter with Zach, show producer at the Stardust, in his pool. (Note: you should stop reading this right now and YouTube this scene. Nomi looks like she is having a seizure, and Zach looks like he is about to vomit all over her.) Always-honest and trustworthy Nomi eventually realizes that James is mentoring/sleeping with Penny from the Cheetah, and was possibly BS-ing her about her "natural talent." After witnessing one of her co-workers sabotage a rival dancer, Nomi gets a few ideas in her head and she and the stairs conspire to end advance her career. Cristal ends up in the hospital, unable to dance for a year or somesuch. Now she's the lead dancer, on top of the world! She's got enough blow to choke a walrus! Sleeping with the producer! She's got it all. The one problem here is that she's ostracized the movie's only likable character, Molly, who warned her from the beginning not to get sucked into this decadent lifestyle. When their favorite singer, Andrew Carver, comes to town (think Yanni but sleazier, if such a thing is possible), Nomi drags Molly to a party with him, and fixes the two of them up, at which point we learn Andrew isn't the good boy that he at first appears, as he and his gang rape squad have their way with Molly upstairs (in a protracted scene which is easily the movie's most disturbing, which is saying a lot, and highly offensive). As her friend is recuperating in the hospital bed, Nomi has an epiphany, realizing that this isn't the life for her. So after getting her revenge on Andrew, with the help of a stiletto heel, she promptly packs up and heads out of town to pursue...well, we don't know, but hopefully but acting.
Key moments of interest:
Pseudo Elvis impersonator picks up sketchy-looking hootchie by the side of the road, thus beginning the epic Showgirls saga.
Elvis's uninspired come-ons are met with a sharp blade.
Upon arriving in Las Vegas, Elvis immediately shows his true colors. Not a good omen for the rest of her stay in town.
Demonstrating a remarkable ability to refute life's lessons, Nomi immediately trusts the next stranger who wanders into her field of vision. Fortunately, this one turns out to be okay.
We see Nomi at work, thrashing and convulsing quite un-erotically, to the joy of the Cheetah's Customers.
Welcome to Uncle Al's Sleazy House of Skeeze.
Take one part pimp mixed with two parts bookie, sprinkle with a generous helping of sleaze, and you've got a dynamite recipe for Al's, Nomi's boss.
Don't forget the rather large lady with the dress that'll make babies cry.
Oh, Nomi, we're done having vaguely erotic-esque undertones. You should come with me to work, since you're a dancer, too.
We see Cristal at her finest, displaying her two modes of existence: dancing topless and acting horny/disdainful.
Cue Nomi giving Zach a lap dance while Cristal looks on. A really long lap dance. Really long.
And while this scene was probably intended to be erotic and arousing, it simply comes off as laughable and pathetic.
FCC-approved lap dance checklist: breast jiggling, check; bending over both backwards and forewards, check; one leg on the shoulder, check; humping of the knee, check; epiletic thrashing about on lap, check.
That was the best $500 lap dance ever!
Nomi and Molly go shopping with her lap dance money, and Nomi buys the only non-slutty item of clothing she owns, a Versace dress (which she pronounces Ver-sayce).
Nomi auditions for the show, and undoubtedly due to a pronounced lack of dance talent, gets in.
She is advised shortly thereafter to be less of a Pollyanna, so she hootches it up. A sign of things to come, definitely.
Nomi takes a break from the exciting world of showgirl dancing and decides to pay a visit to her old friend, James.
Through the din of a turnip truck driving away, she hears a voice in his apartment.
Turns out naive Penny caught onto the Vegas scene pretty quickly.
Since they had no defined relationship, and they're both terrible people, any attempt on the part of the film makers to make us feel bad about this breakup falls flat.
Out with the old, in with the new -- if Nomi can't have James, she might as well sleep with the producer of the show.
Which she does. Tipsy on champagne and flying high on her recent success, the two embark on what looks like the least pleasurable sex ever recorded on film.
Nomi decides to give Zach the night of his life by riding him like a bucking bronco at the county fair. That, or someone threw an electric eel into the pool. It's hard to tell.
Nomi's DARE officer roles over in his grave when she climbs back on the great white powder pony.
At Zach's urging, Nomi auditions to be Cristal's understudy. Surprise, surprise: she's rejected.
A jealous Cristal pulls the rug out from underneath her.
Cristal "trips" down the metal stairs following a performance.
Nomi, did you see anything?
No, I have no idea what happened! Maybe she tripped over a unicorn.
This just in from Vegas: Nomi Malone stars in Goddess!
Molly gives her an ultimatum in a dramatic and heart-rending scene.
One scene later, they're friends again and decide to exploit Nomi's meteoric rise and decide to attend a party where Molly can meet her favorite singer.
Molly and Andrew become fast friends and decide to head upstairs for a little extra-curricular activity.
In a scene which seems to have been added merely to complete this rags to riches to rags tale, Molly is violent assaulted by Andrew and two other thugs.
While she's recovering from her severe injuries in the hospital, Nomi decides that revenge is a dish best served quickly.
She hookers it up and heads to his hotel room.
She must've watched a Bruce Lee DVD on the elevator ride up, and proceeds to kick the shit out of Andrew.
Good-bye to Molly. Good-bye to James. He and Penny are getting married and having a kid.
James leaves her with this time-honored wisdom: Shit happens. Life sucks.
She packs up and heads out of time, improbably landing a ride in a familiar blue pickup truck...
This just in: After driving all night from Seattle, Ang and Crabs have arrived at the Fresno Denny's on 23rd and State to interview Elizabeth Berkeley. In a booth in the back by the men's room, Ang orders a Moons over my Hammy and Crabs a piece of apple pie, and they sit down to interview Elizabeth. She's chain-smoking the last of a pack of Pall Malls and counting the tips stuffed into the bosom of her grease-soaked waitress uniform.
CRABS: First of all, I just want to say thank you for agreeing to meet with us today. We'll have your $50 check and Costco discount coupons mailed to you as soon as we can get back home. We've traveled here to discuss a lot of times, namely the impact the movie Showgirls has had on your life, and to a greater extent, America as a whole.
ELIZABETH: I thought this was an acting audition. That's what my publicist told me. A commercial for Cletus's Used Car Harbor and Bait Shop.
ANG: Oh, we'll get to that soon enough. We just have a few questions first.
CRABS: For many people, your days on Saved By the Bell really defined their childhood memories. Explain to me the decision-making process that led you to conclude that Showgirls was the logical step in your post-Saved acting career. And please don't skimp on the minutiae.
ELIZABETH: The coke-fueled hedonism of the Saved by the Bell set seemed like a natural precursor to this movie. For instance, the guy who played Screech was always bringing blow to the set. That's how I got hooked. And one day I was grinding him in my trailer. When he complimented me on my technique, a love for lap dancing was born.
ANG: Some have charged that the infamous pool scene ruined their sex lives forever. How do you respond to that accusation?
ELIZABETH: Well, I can't speak for Kyle, as I haven't talked to him since the production wrapped -- he won't return my phone calls or Twitter messages -- but personally, at the time I can say that that scene defined in my mind what a "normal" sex experience was supposed to be like. So as you can imagine, in retrospect I realize that this was highly traumatizing for me and led to a few particularly dark and forgetful years in Cleveland which I'd rather not discuss at this time. By the grace of God, and the kind souls at my AA meetings eventually persuaded me to seek some counseling, and I'm now beginning to finally work through and relive some of the subsequent experiences that I can only describe as scarring and debilitating.
ANG: Do you have any children?
ELIZABETH: Oh yes, I have seven lovely children and one more on the way.
CRABS: Upon its release, Showgirls created quite a controversy stemming from its NC-17 rating, and there was quite an uproar about the overt sexuality in this film. Personally, I found the sexual content to be more laughable than stimulating. Not that you didn't put forth a laudable effort. What do you think this says about the way our society views gender roles and sexuality? Are we desensitized?
ELIZABETH: I think you've misjudged the movie terribly. Though the sexual content can seem campy, you have to realize that this is a purposeful effort on my part to reveal the continuing Puritanical nature of American sexuality.
CRABS: How so? That doesn't make any sense. I must've missed the nuance in the screenplay.
(Time out while Crabs chokes on his apple pie.)
ELIZABETH: It just is, okay? Don't make me stick you with my knife.
ANG: You spend at least 50% of this movie topless. Did the nudity bother you?
ELIZABETH: Oh no. In fact, I'm uncomfortable wearing a shirt at all now. I miss having glittery nipples.
CRABS: One of the most impressive features of the film, and that's saying a lot, was the extensive makeup work. In particular, the eye shadow and the nipple painting. How many hours a day did you spend in makeup? And was it enjoyable or just plain tedious? Also, did you pick up any makeup tips while having your nipples painted?
ELIZABETH: I found the 4am makeup sessions to be the calmest part of my day. I would often spend my time reading works of classical philosophy, such as Plato's The Republic, and working on my still-unfinished dissertation titled "Super-sympetry and Invariance in Higher-Dimensional Spaces: A Mathematical Journey."
ANG: What are your plans for the future?
ELIZABETH: First of all, I want to finish my dissertation. I'd also like to do some teaching, and perhaps start a small business. I've always had a passion for dolphin training and working with autistic children. I'd like to combine those somehow.
CRABS: Well, thanks for your time. We've really enjoyed speaking with you.
ELIZABETH: Um, what about the audition?
ANG: Oh, we left the audition materials in the car. We'll both go get it and be right back...
For next time: Ang and Crabs are taking a segue into the action movie category, and will be watching the adrenaline-fueled blockbuster Street Fighter. For the next blog post, Ang will be wearing her Chun-Li outfit, and Crabs will break out his old Marine uniform and dress as General M. Bison...
Rating: twelve sticks in the eye and a razor to the crotch.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Glitter -- Mariah Hits a High Note of Crap...
Facts: In 2001, the world was finally able to compile a list of Mariah Carey's talents. On the list were skills such as singing, wearing tight pants, smirking, and being bootylicious. Note what didn't make it onto that list: acting. The noble profession of thespianism took a great leap backwards at the inception of Mariah Carey's "acting" career. Five minutes into this movie, and Ang & Crabs were ready to ditch blogging and take up alpaca farming instead. Starring the aforementioned songbird, nominal rap star Da Brat, some guy named Max Beesley, and Tia "I Was in Better Movies, I Swear" Texada. Oh, and Terrence Howard, for some reason.
Plot summary: Little Billie (Carey) is forced onto the stage by her neglectful, has-been drunk of a mother. Their idyllic life together is shattered when Mother of the Year sets their house on fire from an unattended cigarette and loses her job. The logical solution: to send her daughter to an orphanage and never speak to her again. Many years later....Billie is toiling in obscurity waiting tables or somesuch. Timothy (Howard) coerces Billie and her friends (Da Brat, Texada) into becoming backup singers for his talentless girlfriend. But Billie's stratospheric talent is not to be denied. She meets the sleazy Dice, who, upon realizing that Timothy's girlfriend is lip-syncing, and that Billie is actually singing, buys out her contract from Timothy. (And by buys out, we mean writes an $100k IOU that he never pays). After a brief fame montage, she's the hottest thing going on the NYC radio stations, and she and Dice are firmly ensconced in domestic bliss. He wears leather pants a lot. Who could resist? To our dismay, Billie becomes a bit of a diva when she lands a record contract. She has to betray her two long-time friends, but at least she has Dice. For awhile, anyway. They disagree about the direction in which her career is going. Timothy breaks into their apartment and reveals Dice's shady business dealings, and threatens to hurt her if he doesn't pay up. Always a gentleman, Dice beats him up and gets thrown into the slammer. Always a strong woman, Billie leaves this pile of male charm (Dice rolls a snake eyes) and promptly meets a hot dreadlocked producer. So it all works out. Billie finally realizes her dream of playing Madison Square Garden (she books a gig, at least), and then both she and Dice somehow independently write the same sappy song for her to sing that night. But these star-crossed lovers are not to be, as Dice finds himself on the wrong side of Timothy's gun. As Billie is about to go on stage, she finds out about Dice's tragic demise, and she performs their song as a final tribute to his greasiness. Then, of course, she finds her mother, who we've mercifully forgotten about. Roll credits. Thank god.
Key moments of interest:
Gimme another martini, Bill, and let me at that mike. I'll sing my way into your hearts.
Oh, did I mention my daughter's quite a talent, too?
Cute as a button Billie wows the crowds with her precociousness.
Billie and Jane Beam are somehow short on cash, and weasel some out of Billie's father.
(Mama needs the money to buy her gown for the Mother of the Year gala.)
Billie tucks her mom into bed, and then herself.
But her mother's cigarette has a mind of its own, and their house goes up in flames. Fwoosh!
Firemen must be on vacation because the house is a total loss.
Get in the car with the nice lady! Tearful farewell ensues.
Fast forward 20 years or so, and we find Billie scraping by with her friends working as a waitress. (Or a pole-dancer. Hell, we don't know.)
Timothy slimes his way backstage with a proposition.
Unfortunately, it's not of the hooking kind.
At the recording session, Mariah ends up providing the vocals for some no-talent hack.
The always savvy Dice realizes that the vocals are a fraud.
Dice makes a deal with the devil. Like most business transactions, it's cut-and-dried. I'm sure we'll never hear from Timothy again...
Dice and Billie cut her first single. A star is born!
Billie embarks on an adrenaline and body-glitter fueled promo tour.
Strictly managerial Dice invites Billie into see his musical instruments.
Two-backed beast sighting in lower Manhattan!
Billie's record deal is a sign she's finally hit the big-time.
Movie over. Roll credits. We wish.
Timothy and Billie have a tense heart-to-heart in the apartment.
Roll down the intense heart-to-heart checklist: Emerging from the shadows, check. Thinly-veiled threats of violence, check.
Dice goes Tonya Harding on Timothy's ass in some back alley.
Billie bails him out of prison, with the paparazzi in tow.
This all leads to a huge fight in the limo, and Billie must make a choice between leather pants and lifelong friends.
Cue a semi-abusive fight, and Billie is out of there, soul-searching montage (introspective walking through the city, long periods staring out windows, drinking) and all.
Billie immediately finds another, better-looking man: Dreadlocks McSteamy.
Dice decides to express his reptilian feelings through the power of song.
We learn that Dice is not bulletproof, and yet somehow it's hard to feel sorry for him since he was a jackass, a liar, and a cheat.
Billie captures our hearts with her stirring performance of Dice's last will and testament (aka, a shitty song).
Cue perky publicist: "Oh, by the way! We found your mother!"
Driver, take me to my mother right now!
With nary a smirk and a hug, mother and daughter are reunited. All past transgressions have been forgiven.
Cue glorious future.
Snarky movie discussion:
(Note: Ang & Crabs are going to redefine intellectualism and do a little genre-blending here. Since this was the culmination of Mariah Carey's career, we can relate every song she's written to one of the movie's heart-rending scenes.)
ANG: Let's start with Mariah's first hit, "Vision of Love." Do you think Billie has, in fact, a vision of love, or is her talent so impressive that she is destined to be alone?
CRABS: Clearly, Billie's talent is so great that it eclipses not only every aspect of her personality but every facet of her life. Case-in-point: her only expressible emotion is that of a confused smirk, which seems to be her emotional response to everything that happens to her. I would argue that she's actually a victim, or prisoner, of her own greatness, and as such, has no true vision for her life, but merely rolls with the punches when she finds herself in new circumstances. Her tawdry romance with Dice is not something that was intentional, but something that could be seen as in intelligent career move on her part. And while the couple themselves are quite a heavenly vision, we learn that their love is nothing more than ego-driven, fame-seeking delusion.
ANG: What about the song "Make it Happen" from Mariah's classic second album? Do you see this song as an anthem for all young girls struggling in dysfunctional families, and would you argue that it is Billie's sheer force of will that allows her to triumph over her upbringing?
CRABS: I would argue the opposite, in fact. Her consistently emotionless response to everything that happens to her seems to imply that she is nothing more than a dolt, or an idiot savant, if you will, whose sole purpose in life is to sing. Surprisingly, she demonstrates very little ambition, and is not really the catalyst for any of the good things that happen to her. Instead, she relies on her hot pants and ample cleavage.
ANG: I'm sure you remember the inspirational anthem "Hero" which came out in 1993. Who, if anyone, would you argue is Billie's hero in the movie?
CRABS: We'll certainly lead to believe that her mother is in fact her hero. But the movie makes an unconvincing and utterly contrived attempt at driving this point home. I would argue that she has no hero, and in fact is living a capitalistic nihilist's dream by exploiting the system to her own advantage, and yet espousing no clearly-defined creed or well-developed belief system.
ANG: Let's discuss "Always Be My Baby." Are we to believe that Dice is, in fact, Billie's baby, or is this just a red herring designed to distract us from Billie's inner strength?
CRABS: The fact that Billie was so prompt and willing to leave Dice after his angry outburst leads me to believe that in fact he was not her "baby," but merely her sugar daddy. If anything, I think we could say that Billie is the baby of the music industry. After signing her contract, she's promptly coddled, swaddled, and pampered in every way. And yet like most children, she grows to resent her corporate "parents" and starts to rebel against them as their relationship matures. I see this story as ultimately a prophetic tale of the future of industrialized society which values ephemeral things like notoriety and success over core values like family and commitment and apple pie.
For next time: Sound the trumpets! Ang & Crabs are finally going to watch the granddaddy of all bad movies. That's right, kids! It's Showgirls time! (We're reluctant to do this for fear of compromising our fond memories of Saved by the Bell, but it must be done.) Plus! Dustin Diamond (aka Screech) is stopping by to guest blog!
Rating: eight sticks in the eye (and some leather pants).
Plot summary: Little Billie (Carey) is forced onto the stage by her neglectful, has-been drunk of a mother. Their idyllic life together is shattered when Mother of the Year sets their house on fire from an unattended cigarette and loses her job. The logical solution: to send her daughter to an orphanage and never speak to her again. Many years later....Billie is toiling in obscurity waiting tables or somesuch. Timothy (Howard) coerces Billie and her friends (Da Brat, Texada) into becoming backup singers for his talentless girlfriend. But Billie's stratospheric talent is not to be denied. She meets the sleazy Dice, who, upon realizing that Timothy's girlfriend is lip-syncing, and that Billie is actually singing, buys out her contract from Timothy. (And by buys out, we mean writes an $100k IOU that he never pays). After a brief fame montage, she's the hottest thing going on the NYC radio stations, and she and Dice are firmly ensconced in domestic bliss. He wears leather pants a lot. Who could resist? To our dismay, Billie becomes a bit of a diva when she lands a record contract. She has to betray her two long-time friends, but at least she has Dice. For awhile, anyway. They disagree about the direction in which her career is going. Timothy breaks into their apartment and reveals Dice's shady business dealings, and threatens to hurt her if he doesn't pay up. Always a gentleman, Dice beats him up and gets thrown into the slammer. Always a strong woman, Billie leaves this pile of male charm (Dice rolls a snake eyes) and promptly meets a hot dreadlocked producer. So it all works out. Billie finally realizes her dream of playing Madison Square Garden (she books a gig, at least), and then both she and Dice somehow independently write the same sappy song for her to sing that night. But these star-crossed lovers are not to be, as Dice finds himself on the wrong side of Timothy's gun. As Billie is about to go on stage, she finds out about Dice's tragic demise, and she performs their song as a final tribute to his greasiness. Then, of course, she finds her mother, who we've mercifully forgotten about. Roll credits. Thank god.
Key moments of interest:
Gimme another martini, Bill, and let me at that mike. I'll sing my way into your hearts.
Oh, did I mention my daughter's quite a talent, too?
Cute as a button Billie wows the crowds with her precociousness.
Billie and Jane Beam are somehow short on cash, and weasel some out of Billie's father.
(Mama needs the money to buy her gown for the Mother of the Year gala.)
Billie tucks her mom into bed, and then herself.
But her mother's cigarette has a mind of its own, and their house goes up in flames. Fwoosh!
Firemen must be on vacation because the house is a total loss.
Get in the car with the nice lady! Tearful farewell ensues.
Fast forward 20 years or so, and we find Billie scraping by with her friends working as a waitress. (Or a pole-dancer. Hell, we don't know.)
Timothy slimes his way backstage with a proposition.
Unfortunately, it's not of the hooking kind.
At the recording session, Mariah ends up providing the vocals for some no-talent hack.
The always savvy Dice realizes that the vocals are a fraud.
Dice makes a deal with the devil. Like most business transactions, it's cut-and-dried. I'm sure we'll never hear from Timothy again...
Dice and Billie cut her first single. A star is born!
Billie embarks on an adrenaline and body-glitter fueled promo tour.
Strictly managerial Dice invites Billie into see his musical instruments.
Two-backed beast sighting in lower Manhattan!
Billie's record deal is a sign she's finally hit the big-time.
Movie over. Roll credits. We wish.
Timothy and Billie have a tense heart-to-heart in the apartment.
Roll down the intense heart-to-heart checklist: Emerging from the shadows, check. Thinly-veiled threats of violence, check.
Dice goes Tonya Harding on Timothy's ass in some back alley.
Billie bails him out of prison, with the paparazzi in tow.
This all leads to a huge fight in the limo, and Billie must make a choice between leather pants and lifelong friends.
Cue a semi-abusive fight, and Billie is out of there, soul-searching montage (introspective walking through the city, long periods staring out windows, drinking) and all.
Billie immediately finds another, better-looking man: Dreadlocks McSteamy.
Dice decides to express his reptilian feelings through the power of song.
We learn that Dice is not bulletproof, and yet somehow it's hard to feel sorry for him since he was a jackass, a liar, and a cheat.
Billie captures our hearts with her stirring performance of Dice's last will and testament (aka, a shitty song).
Cue perky publicist: "Oh, by the way! We found your mother!"
Driver, take me to my mother right now!
With nary a smirk and a hug, mother and daughter are reunited. All past transgressions have been forgiven.
Cue glorious future.
Snarky movie discussion:
(Note: Ang & Crabs are going to redefine intellectualism and do a little genre-blending here. Since this was the culmination of Mariah Carey's career, we can relate every song she's written to one of the movie's heart-rending scenes.)
ANG: Let's start with Mariah's first hit, "Vision of Love." Do you think Billie has, in fact, a vision of love, or is her talent so impressive that she is destined to be alone?
CRABS: Clearly, Billie's talent is so great that it eclipses not only every aspect of her personality but every facet of her life. Case-in-point: her only expressible emotion is that of a confused smirk, which seems to be her emotional response to everything that happens to her. I would argue that she's actually a victim, or prisoner, of her own greatness, and as such, has no true vision for her life, but merely rolls with the punches when she finds herself in new circumstances. Her tawdry romance with Dice is not something that was intentional, but something that could be seen as in intelligent career move on her part. And while the couple themselves are quite a heavenly vision, we learn that their love is nothing more than ego-driven, fame-seeking delusion.
ANG: What about the song "Make it Happen" from Mariah's classic second album? Do you see this song as an anthem for all young girls struggling in dysfunctional families, and would you argue that it is Billie's sheer force of will that allows her to triumph over her upbringing?
CRABS: I would argue the opposite, in fact. Her consistently emotionless response to everything that happens to her seems to imply that she is nothing more than a dolt, or an idiot savant, if you will, whose sole purpose in life is to sing. Surprisingly, she demonstrates very little ambition, and is not really the catalyst for any of the good things that happen to her. Instead, she relies on her hot pants and ample cleavage.
ANG: I'm sure you remember the inspirational anthem "Hero" which came out in 1993. Who, if anyone, would you argue is Billie's hero in the movie?
CRABS: We'll certainly lead to believe that her mother is in fact her hero. But the movie makes an unconvincing and utterly contrived attempt at driving this point home. I would argue that she has no hero, and in fact is living a capitalistic nihilist's dream by exploiting the system to her own advantage, and yet espousing no clearly-defined creed or well-developed belief system.
ANG: Let's discuss "Always Be My Baby." Are we to believe that Dice is, in fact, Billie's baby, or is this just a red herring designed to distract us from Billie's inner strength?
CRABS: The fact that Billie was so prompt and willing to leave Dice after his angry outburst leads me to believe that in fact he was not her "baby," but merely her sugar daddy. If anything, I think we could say that Billie is the baby of the music industry. After signing her contract, she's promptly coddled, swaddled, and pampered in every way. And yet like most children, she grows to resent her corporate "parents" and starts to rebel against them as their relationship matures. I see this story as ultimately a prophetic tale of the future of industrialized society which values ephemeral things like notoriety and success over core values like family and commitment and apple pie.
For next time: Sound the trumpets! Ang & Crabs are finally going to watch the granddaddy of all bad movies. That's right, kids! It's Showgirls time! (We're reluctant to do this for fear of compromising our fond memories of Saved by the Bell, but it must be done.) Plus! Dustin Diamond (aka Screech) is stopping by to guest blog!
Rating: eight sticks in the eye (and some leather pants).
Monday, July 6, 2009
Dungeons & Dragons -- There's a Little Snails in all of Us
Facts: Ang & Crabs were ensconced in the college scene in 2000, reveling in various sorts of intellectual masturbation. The media was squawking about the impending end of the world...but we got this movie instead, which is almost as bad (like a Y2K bug for your brain). Ang & Crabs's inner nerds were secretly sort of excited about the prospect of a D&D movie, but reason somehow prevailed, and, despite a preponderance of tequila, the two managed to avoid this movie for nine beautiful years. But no more...Starring Thora "Yes, it's really her" Birch, Jeremy "I should be better than this" Irons, Justin "Who?" Whalin, and Marlon "Not a fly girl" Wayons.
Plot summary: (Warning: this is a plot filled with political intrigue and thrilling machinations. Read on at your peril.) Two young thieves, personality-free Ridley (Whalin) and Snails (Wayons), an Eddie Murphy-esque sidekick, live in the kingdom of Izmer, which is ruled by the idealistic young Empress Savina (Birch). In a plot twist presaging the current events in Iran, the evil wizard Profion (Irons), who's also some sort of politician, is looking for an ancient artifact. Possessing it will allow him to control red dragons, and by extension, stage a hare-brained coup. (We don't get it, either.) The two young idiots (er, thieves) break into the wizard's tower to steal stuff, where they meet a dowdy hottie in disguise apprentice wizardess and together embark on a snooze-filled quest to uncover the ancient secrets of power. Pursuing them all the while is the evil Damodar, Profion's minion, who also happens to look like a long-lost Village Person. You can tell he's evil because he wears blue lipstick. This motley crew finds a gigantic, fake-looking gemstone by navigating some sort of maze, and...it's hard for us to talk about this...we lose Snails to the winds of fate. He still had so much to give! So many cliched jokes to tell! Then, fifteen boring hours later, they find the scepter they've been looking for, but the blue-lipped guy steals it. He delivers it to Profion, who calls upon red dragons, igniting a dragon civil war. Ridley destroys the scepter, saving the kingdom. Snails, alas, is not alive to see this glorious day.
Key moments of interest:
Two scamps are separating people from their hard-earned cash.
Little do they know they will soon decide the fate of the entire kingdom.
Droll politicians drone on about meaningless nonsense. No, it's not CSPAN. It's the Izmer Senate.
A battle's a-brewin. Savina v. Profion smackdown!
Profion's minion Damodar is controlled via a bug in his ear. (Khan!)
The two thieves discuss the relative merits of small-time v. big-time operations. It's time for the big score.
Ridley and Snails bust into the wizard's tower, and we learn why Ridley is the brains behind the operation.
Snails is like a bull in a china shop. CLANG!
Surprisingly, someone hears the one man band that is Snails and comes to investigate.
Blue-lipped man (Damodar) finds them, and the wizardess creates a portal. They escape.
Cue some long, lame story about red dragons.
The two bumbling idiots (and unfortunate movie watchers) are now filled in on movie lore.
Savina sends her metal-bustiered minion after them.
Snails tries to get some, and is, not unsurprisingly, unsuccessful. But her elven heart is melting.
Our band of losers meets up with the master thief Douchebag von Thiefenstein, and Ridley goes through his horribly contrived maze.
Contrived trap number one: wooshing, swinging blades.
Contrived trap number two: fire coming from the walls, controlled by fire.
Contrived trap number three: the walls are closing in, and Ridley is about to be impaled by spikes.
Douchebag is a double-crosser! Luckily blue-lipped guy is a moron, and the thieves are able to escape.
SNAILS! You were too beautiful for this world!
Thank god the cave of the dragon lord is on this map!
Located in said cave are countless treasures and a skeleton-holding a scepter.
Somehow the skeleton is able to lecture them about the proper usage of power.
Despite not having two IQ points to rub together, blue-lipped guy captures them, and the scepter is lost.
Profion releases Damodar from his debt. In the navy!
The red dragons swoop in! It's gonna be a heart-pounding civil war! (Not really.)
The terribly-rendered CG dragons tear each other asunder.
Savina is riding a gold dragon, and is nearly captured.
We don't really remember how, but trust us, it isn't very interesting: the scepter is destroyed.
Savina 1, Profion 0.
A tearful goodbye at the cemetery. For a minute, we think Snails might be returning, but whatever sequel is foisted upon us will have to be Snail-less.
Snarky movie discussion:
CRABS: The two main characters in the movie are originally vagabond thieves and yet come to hold the salvation of an entire nation in their hands. What do you think this means in the context of the class struggle of the mid to late-Victorian age. In particular, is high society alone capable of perpetuating civilization, or is a certain underclass criminal element necessarily required for cultural sustainability?
ANG: I think the message of this movie is quite clear: real, authentic change cannot occur without a certain disregard for the law. Think of the great revolutions of our time, the Civil Rights movement among them. Change did not occur because activists were staid or content with the status quo. Ridley and Snails belong alongside history's great rabble-rousers. It is is only through disobedience that society can change for the better.
CRABS: The red dragon scepter is clearly a medieval weapon of mass destruction (WMD for short). If the empress had obtained this scepter, should could easily have destroyed all opposition and ruled her kingdom with an iron fist. In light of this potential totalitarianism, is Profion's civil war a justifiable preemptive strike?
ANG: If we were discussing only humans, the answer to your question would be clear-cut. However, we're discussing dragons, so things get quite a bit murkier. Neither Savina nor Profion can predict dragon behavior, and the dragons, lacking the power of reason, cannot think for themselves. Therefore, Profion is committing dragon genocide. Also, Profion had no reason to suspect that Savina would use the scepter in an unsavory fashion. In fact, he had every reason to think she was quite ethical. Therefore, the argument that he anticipated a dictatorship is unfounded.
CRABS: I'm intrigued to know what you make of the obvious social stratification in dragon society. I'm referring, of course, to the distinctions between the supposedly superior red dragons and the everyday gold dragons. If mythical creatures feel compelled to reinforce distinctions amongst themselves, what does this say about the potential for cooperation and multilateralism in human society?
ANG: I'm not convinced that the stratification of which you speak is enforced by the dragons themselves. In fact, I would argue that the dragons only ape what they are shown. The distinctions you discuss are determined by humans. Therefore, I think the movie illustrates how distinctions which come from outside forces are the most powerful.
CRABS: As an oddly-beloved yet misunderstood and awkward entertainer, the loss of Snails struck a resonant and emotional blow to the other characters in the film. Would you liken this turn of events to the current outpouring of remembrance and affection for the late Jacko?
ANG: I'm sorry, I...I can't talk about this. The loss of Snails is too raw.
For next time: Ang and Crabs are subjecting themselves to Glitter. That movie with Mariah Carey. They're terrified, but willing to go the extra mile for their beloved readers.
Rating: six sticks in the eye (and jewel-encrusted ten-side dice of shame).
Plot summary: (Warning: this is a plot filled with political intrigue and thrilling machinations. Read on at your peril.) Two young thieves, personality-free Ridley (Whalin) and Snails (Wayons), an Eddie Murphy-esque sidekick, live in the kingdom of Izmer, which is ruled by the idealistic young Empress Savina (Birch). In a plot twist presaging the current events in Iran, the evil wizard Profion (Irons), who's also some sort of politician, is looking for an ancient artifact. Possessing it will allow him to control red dragons, and by extension, stage a hare-brained coup. (We don't get it, either.) The two young idiots (er, thieves) break into the wizard's tower to steal stuff, where they meet a dowdy hottie in disguise apprentice wizardess and together embark on a snooze-filled quest to uncover the ancient secrets of power. Pursuing them all the while is the evil Damodar, Profion's minion, who also happens to look like a long-lost Village Person. You can tell he's evil because he wears blue lipstick. This motley crew finds a gigantic, fake-looking gemstone by navigating some sort of maze, and...it's hard for us to talk about this...we lose Snails to the winds of fate. He still had so much to give! So many cliched jokes to tell! Then, fifteen boring hours later, they find the scepter they've been looking for, but the blue-lipped guy steals it. He delivers it to Profion, who calls upon red dragons, igniting a dragon civil war. Ridley destroys the scepter, saving the kingdom. Snails, alas, is not alive to see this glorious day.
Key moments of interest:
Two scamps are separating people from their hard-earned cash.
Little do they know they will soon decide the fate of the entire kingdom.
Droll politicians drone on about meaningless nonsense. No, it's not CSPAN. It's the Izmer Senate.
A battle's a-brewin. Savina v. Profion smackdown!
Profion's minion Damodar is controlled via a bug in his ear. (Khan!)
The two thieves discuss the relative merits of small-time v. big-time operations. It's time for the big score.
Ridley and Snails bust into the wizard's tower, and we learn why Ridley is the brains behind the operation.
Snails is like a bull in a china shop. CLANG!
Surprisingly, someone hears the one man band that is Snails and comes to investigate.
Blue-lipped man (Damodar) finds them, and the wizardess creates a portal. They escape.
Cue some long, lame story about red dragons.
The two bumbling idiots (and unfortunate movie watchers) are now filled in on movie lore.
Savina sends her metal-bustiered minion after them.
Snails tries to get some, and is, not unsurprisingly, unsuccessful. But her elven heart is melting.
Our band of losers meets up with the master thief Douchebag von Thiefenstein, and Ridley goes through his horribly contrived maze.
Contrived trap number one: wooshing, swinging blades.
Contrived trap number two: fire coming from the walls, controlled by fire.
Contrived trap number three: the walls are closing in, and Ridley is about to be impaled by spikes.
Douchebag is a double-crosser! Luckily blue-lipped guy is a moron, and the thieves are able to escape.
SNAILS! You were too beautiful for this world!
Thank god the cave of the dragon lord is on this map!
Located in said cave are countless treasures and a skeleton-holding a scepter.
Somehow the skeleton is able to lecture them about the proper usage of power.
Despite not having two IQ points to rub together, blue-lipped guy captures them, and the scepter is lost.
Profion releases Damodar from his debt. In the navy!
The red dragons swoop in! It's gonna be a heart-pounding civil war! (Not really.)
The terribly-rendered CG dragons tear each other asunder.
Savina is riding a gold dragon, and is nearly captured.
We don't really remember how, but trust us, it isn't very interesting: the scepter is destroyed.
Savina 1, Profion 0.
A tearful goodbye at the cemetery. For a minute, we think Snails might be returning, but whatever sequel is foisted upon us will have to be Snail-less.
Snarky movie discussion:
CRABS: The two main characters in the movie are originally vagabond thieves and yet come to hold the salvation of an entire nation in their hands. What do you think this means in the context of the class struggle of the mid to late-Victorian age. In particular, is high society alone capable of perpetuating civilization, or is a certain underclass criminal element necessarily required for cultural sustainability?
ANG: I think the message of this movie is quite clear: real, authentic change cannot occur without a certain disregard for the law. Think of the great revolutions of our time, the Civil Rights movement among them. Change did not occur because activists were staid or content with the status quo. Ridley and Snails belong alongside history's great rabble-rousers. It is is only through disobedience that society can change for the better.
CRABS: The red dragon scepter is clearly a medieval weapon of mass destruction (WMD for short). If the empress had obtained this scepter, should could easily have destroyed all opposition and ruled her kingdom with an iron fist. In light of this potential totalitarianism, is Profion's civil war a justifiable preemptive strike?
ANG: If we were discussing only humans, the answer to your question would be clear-cut. However, we're discussing dragons, so things get quite a bit murkier. Neither Savina nor Profion can predict dragon behavior, and the dragons, lacking the power of reason, cannot think for themselves. Therefore, Profion is committing dragon genocide. Also, Profion had no reason to suspect that Savina would use the scepter in an unsavory fashion. In fact, he had every reason to think she was quite ethical. Therefore, the argument that he anticipated a dictatorship is unfounded.
CRABS: I'm intrigued to know what you make of the obvious social stratification in dragon society. I'm referring, of course, to the distinctions between the supposedly superior red dragons and the everyday gold dragons. If mythical creatures feel compelled to reinforce distinctions amongst themselves, what does this say about the potential for cooperation and multilateralism in human society?
ANG: I'm not convinced that the stratification of which you speak is enforced by the dragons themselves. In fact, I would argue that the dragons only ape what they are shown. The distinctions you discuss are determined by humans. Therefore, I think the movie illustrates how distinctions which come from outside forces are the most powerful.
CRABS: As an oddly-beloved yet misunderstood and awkward entertainer, the loss of Snails struck a resonant and emotional blow to the other characters in the film. Would you liken this turn of events to the current outpouring of remembrance and affection for the late Jacko?
ANG: I'm sorry, I...I can't talk about this. The loss of Snails is too raw.
For next time: Ang and Crabs are subjecting themselves to Glitter. That movie with Mariah Carey. They're terrified, but willing to go the extra mile for their beloved readers.
Rating: six sticks in the eye (and jewel-encrusted ten-side dice of shame).
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