Ang & Crabs have defied corporate culture and hired a new intern.

We here at ICBIWT Headquarters have been in the hunt for an intern for quite some time now. Despite working with several temp agencies and wading through thousands of applications, we were beginning to think our search was futile. All of the applicants had unreasonable demands such as "no sexual harassment" and whatnot. But fate intervened, and Ang & Crabs found themselves wallowing in a rank pub in the middle of Pioneer Square on Easter night 2010. There we found a young man wallowing in an alley behind the pub. Lo and behold he would become our new intern. You can learn more about this lucky young man below.

1. Please explain your interest in crappy movies utilizing a post-9/11 worldview.

It is a well-known fact that America is hated by pretty much everyone non-American – terrorists, Indians, Canadians – for our freedoms. American freedom is the greatest gift that America and God have bestowed upon the entire world, and our freedom is directly linked to our culture, notably that most American of all cultural icons, the movie-film. When American-French invented the Lumiere in the late 1800s it heralded a new means of entertainment for the world, echoed today by American-Indians making films in Bollywood.

However our heritage and freedoms are at risk from those who hate both. They want to destroy American films and the only way to preserve them is to watch these movies for God and Country. In fact, I would go so far as to call them Freedom Films, because that’s what they are – symbols of America as much as the crying bald eagle and Fox News logo are symbols of America. In short, if we don’t watch these Freedom Films, the terrorists have already won.

2. Please describe your unique brand of snark and how it would benefit the blog.

I found my snark in a back-alley in Istanbul. I was shopping for carpets, which as everyone knows is the best place in the world to buy a carpet, and having tea with a friendly merchant who kept looking at my crotch and licking his lips. I asked if he had anything ‘special’ if you know what I mean, and he showed me his box of unique items. Inside was a snark and I paid €900 for it, which I felt was a great deal. It benefits the blog because there’s no other snark like it in
the world.

3. What's the worst movie you've ever seen? What qualities make it especially godawful?

The worst movie I’ve ever seen was a movie you’ve already reviewed: Crossroads. I was a professional FEELM CRITIC then, and I got into the movie for free to review it. 20 minutes into the film I had enough material for my review and walked out, and then demanded a refund to
my free pass just to drive home to the manager of the cinema that he was an accomplice in crimes against humanity for agreeing to show the movie in his business.

4. How does your interest in the worst cinema has to offer relate to your studies in existentialism and/or Buddhism?

Buddhism and The Princess Bride both show us that ‘life is pain,’ and anyone who says differently is selling you something. The worst cinema in the world is a way to encounter and experience that pain head-on, similar to repeatedly running into a wall of broken beer bottles. Sure you might get a little cut up, but in the long run it’ll be better for you because at the end of the experience you’ll know how to tie a tourniquet.

5. What snack foods do you enjoy eating while suffering through shitty movies?

Does cheap whisky count as a snack food? If so, that’s my answer. Just ask Crabs how well that works out.

6. Please explain in detail why you think Ang and Crabs are especially hilarious bloggers?

I’ve dubbed Ang and Crabs the Queen and King of Funnytimes because their blog consistently makes me ‘laugh out loud,’ or ‘LOL.’ Sometimes it makes me ‘roll on the floor laughing,’ or ROFL, and occasionally I even ‘laugh my balls off,’ or LMBO. This has only happened twice
because after that I didn’t have any more balls. I had to get them from under the couch and the five-second rule had already passed so I was kind of out of luck in that regard. Still I owe allegiance to the Queen and King of Funnytimes.

Twilight -- I Wish a Sparky Vampire Would Fall in Love with MEEEEEE!

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.

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).