Caffeinated Clint – 10/7/08

What a week. What a month. What a year…. What a croc of shit that “Love Guru” movie is.

Howdy peoples, hope you’re all traveling well. It’s been a rough week – and for once, I’m not referring to my sex life. I’m angrier than a Sony exec at a “Rollerball” rushes screening.

A sombre note

Lost an old friend this week – yeah, I’m going to get emotional for a moment, something I haven’t been since leaving the media screening for “Blade Trinity” – and I tell ya, it stings like a cricket ball to the chicken nuggets. If he had been 75 and the cause of death was consumption of a bingo ball, then it’d be understandable that Evan Almighty might take him, but he was in his early 30s – it’s way too early. It sucks. It really sucks. He’s the second highschool buddy to pass away in the past couple of years. It doesn’t seem right. Just yesterday we were all pissing it up at a bar, celebrating finishing our education. My late friend was quite ill, and it wasn’t unexpected, but that doesn’t make it any easier… or any more right. Sometimes I’d like to interview God – no, not Alec Baldwin, the guy with the beard – and just ask him, “Why?”. Ya know? My old friend leaves behind a devoted girlfriend, two kids… and family and friends that love him. I better move on to something more humorous, because this one’s making me all crimson-faced and shit….

The Caffeine Kicks in….

Walked into a music store – I usually call them “record stores”, because I’m old ya see? But I won’t this time, just in case some of you Lohan-loving Virgins decide to ridicule me – this week. I asked a pretty simple question to the purple-haired freak behind the counter.

“Do you have such-and-such a song?”

Her response? “Um, I dunno. I don’t listen to the radio. I don’t know what we have”.

Um, what the fuck?! Had I walked into KFC and accidentally mistaken the chicken breasts for Cds? Where was this woman working?

There’s probably ten thousand other gals – or guys – in the suburb that would kill for that job (or any job for that matter). Here’s a girl that not only has the enthusiasm of a husband at a bra store, but doesn’t know anything about the product she’s selling! As soon as she said “I don’t listen to the radio” I couldn’t help but laugh – I assumed it was a joke. But it wasn’t. She was stone-faced serious.

I’m going to organize the local radio station to do a live cross from her store next week – just so she can hear some fuckin’ radio! (Well, at least if there’s an emergency broadcast message in the near future, announcing an alien invasion in her suburb, we’ll be one moron short).

My producing partner was telling me today about an audio book by Donald Trump – whom we both agree is a douche, but definitely a good businessman – in which the hairpiece states, “Email is for wimps”. He basically says people that can’t be bothered calling you are as pussified as Catwoman. I can’t agree more.

Still, I email people – hundreds of people – every day, so can’t talk, I love the thing…. But I do think that sometimes – especially things of importance – things need to be discussed over the telephone. But back to email. Don’t you just hate people that can’t be bothered returning an email? If you’re going to live and die by your outlook express, at least “give” sometimes.

Yes, you’re busy (and what am I? Playing Nintendo and eating pancakes through the day?), Yes, you have other people’s emails to answer, and Yes, it’s ‘that time of the month’, but how about a friggin’ reply? ESPECIALLY IF IT’S SOMETHING I NEED A REPLY TO or better still, if I’ve just written to you to let you know WE’VE JUST POSTED YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT or I’VE MANAGED TO SCORE YOU SOME TICKETS TO THAT CONCERT YOU WANTED TO GO. A quick “really? Thanks!” or “you shouldn’t have! That’s awesome” or “Yes Clint, that’s right mate, we release on Aug 10. How can I be of further help?” is pretty damn easy. I’m not your 30-watt dildo, you can’t just use me whenever you feel the need….

My cat is shitting me. It/She bangs on the door every morning to get in. At like 3am. She’s so friggin loud. And even worse, she likes to do her “let me in NOW!” shit when I’m trying to get my baby to sleep. It’s as if she knows. She did it again tonight. She also feels the need to be let in the front door so she can go out the back door. The fat fuck can’t even walk around herself? I’m an animal lover, I’m not afraid to admit that, but there’s some nights when I just want to hang the cat on the clothesline like a wet T-Shirt.

But to this week’s topic…. Blockbusters that bite.

2008 is really proving to be pretty limp when it comes to cinema. From the outset, the year’s offerings accumulated to what we all suspected to be the equivalent of an invite to the party of the year – Indy! Iron Man! Hulk! 007! Batman! Keanu Reeves as a bent copper! – but one in which we soon discovered the alcohol had been forgotten, the guests were as dull as a sober Ted Kennedy, and the highlights were far and far between. We’ve all experienced the feeling of wanting to chop the balls of the usher as we walk out of the theater – and the urge to toss his disattached sack in the popcorn mix in the way out. But this year, some are said to be actually doing that – if your girlfriend finds a pube in her popcorn the next you’re at the cinema, just pretend it’s yours (Someone’s currently experiencing my “Indiana Jones and the Cathedral of Spider Veins” revenge as we speak – – too much butter on the ‘corn, bro?). I don’t blame them either. Some studios aren’t even trying anymore. The benchmark used to be “Citizen Kane”, nowadays it’s “The Benchwarmers”.

Before I get into the guts of this column, let me just say I saw one of this Summer’s most highly-anticipated action-comedies last week. Its the latest highly-anticipated (no shit! I could barely sleep the night before the screening!) from a comic maestro. The best thing you can say about it is that it’s a comfortable ride and ultimately does get you from point A to point B. It sounds like I didn’t like it – that’s not true. I did like it, just didn’t love it. Side-by-side with other recent comedies – whatever Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler have been doing – it’s not a bad movie. As something the comic maestro has had his hand in though? Well, it feels a little Meh. Seems the guy that comes in to help the maestro punch up the jokes, load the script with pop-culture references and suggest funny cameos (where the heck was the ex-Friends star?) was off that day…. cashing his check for the three-picture deal he just scored with the Culpepper crowd. Yes, the stars were as good as usual – but someone really needed to stick a sparkler up the director’s rear-end to get not only them, but the film, moving a little faster… and with more pow. I’ll watch it ‘Caffeinated’ – or as high as Condorman – next time and see if it plays better for me. So no, I’m not going to rip the nipples of this bitch just yet – I’m going to sleep on it. It’s possible my lack of Pepsi Max and slumber, combined with my exceedingly high expectations for the film, led to my rolling-eyes gesture. If I can watch it in two months time on DVD and not see the comedic equivalent of “Fresh Horses” – remember the ‘highly anticipated on-screen reunion of Pretty in Pink duo Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy? – then great! I suspect it probably will grow more on me with repeat viewings… . So, no, this action-comedy I speak of isn’t completely devoid of juice and definitely doesn’t earn a spot in the following list. And quite frankly, I don’t know why the fuck I’m even mentioning it… oh yes I do!

Say, imagine if we could seek some kind of retribution for those really stinky films – imagine if we could actually seek the cinematic exhibitor’s association for slogging the cinema manager on the way out if you’re not completely satisfied with the movie. It’s not that far-fetched an idea, I believe they allow it at KFC now – in fact, just the other day a bearded prick and his 15-kids abused a pimply-faced teenage cashier right in front of me, before threatening to pick up the chair and pound his nuggets to a pulp! And why? Because he wanted ‘all breast’ (don’t we all) in his chicken meal, not wings, not drumsticks, not the chook penis.. but breasts! Somewhere on that bottom of the picture of the Colonel that hangs in your local KFC there’s some fine print that states if you’re not happy with your meal you have the right to ‘chair your cashier in the nuggets’. But I digress, have you ever been let-down? And I’m not talking about lifting your girlie’s bra up only to see a mound of tissues buried under neath… I’m referring to being outwardly disenchanted by something they’ve seen at the cinema (or Drive-in, or at home, or on airplane, or int eh kiddie area of Pumpkin Patch where they screen movies-on-loop for the ankle-biters). I’m betting you can all even recite a recent example too, right? You, the guy with the glasses and the Rainbow Brite T-Shirt whose mother’s shirt is stained from your tears – you still hate ”X-Men : The Last Stand”, don’t you? And gramps, you wanna put Eastwood in ‘The Line of Fire’ for forcing “The Dead Pool” upon you, don’t you? I know for a fact that my wife purposely burnt my eggs – we call that ‘a special meal’ at our house – after forcing her to sit through the last “Die Hard” film. In fact, she still swears that Bruce Willis wasn’t reprising his John McClane role in “Live Free or Die Hard”, but more so the fucked-up bunny he played in “North” (and with Elijah Wood too smart to come back as his kid sidekick, Justin ‘I bang Drew Barrymore now, so stop calling me a nerd!’ Long stepped in). But I’m not here to rat on Drew Barrymore’s personal taste (but what the fuck!? The weedy dude from “Accepted”?! What, Eddie Furlong off on a bender in Maui that month?), I’m here to rat on some of cinema’s most disappointing moments in recent times. Where shall we start? (No, Fuck You! I enjoyed “Superman Returns” and “The Incredible Hulk”! Pick again!)

‘That Blew!’ – Recent Cinematic Disappointments

Spider-Man 3

Did Sam Raimi not find a suitable suit to wear to set the day he started work on the third (and unfortunately not final) “Spider-Man” movie? Because this thing’s got creases all through it. A bloated, underwhelming mish-mash of ideas, the film was completely devoid of the epic feel of the first two movies and seemingly only interested in “playing things out”. Not even Kristen Dunst’s soaked T-Shirt could’ve disturbed this slumber. It’s funny, but superhero films are usually always the most disappointing film experiences – and it’s been happening for years! Remember “Superman IV : The Quest for Peace”? Still remember taking my younger brother to see this at the movies. I remember that it was the same week I also took him to see “Spaceballs”. It’s sad that Mel Brooks’ thinly-written “Star Wars” spoof left more of an impression than this artificially-sweetened fucknut of a superhero flick. Instead of cutting the film’s budget, slashing it’s script and adding Jon Cryer to it’s cast, the producers of “The Quest for Piss” might as well have ripped the S from Superman’s shirt and stuck a stick of Red Kryptonite up his ass. What’s sad is that this was Christopher Reeve’s last appearance as The Man of Steel – he deserved better. We deserved better. I want my $4.65 – or however much it cost to see a movie in 1987 – back! And then there’s “Batman & Robin” – which thanks to Harry Knowles, a lot of people managed to avoid. At the time, I’d just recently moved into my first place (Well, I’d be there 18 months or so) and before I even got the keys copied for my girlfriend at the time I stuck all my favourite posters on the walls – I believe there was a James Dean one, a Star Wars one, a Reservoir Dogs one… and about 130 Alicia Silverstone (Way to make a girlfriend feel inadequate, huh?) ones. There was ”Alicia on the beach”, ”Alicia in the little panties”, ”Alicia sucking the lollipop”, ”Alicia and the duckling”… and ”Alicia in the leather-clad Batgirl” outfit. After sitting through the lifeless “Batman” movie, I returned home, rolled up all the Batgirl posters of Alicia, lit them alight and smoked them. (To be fair, she did look rather hot as Batgirl – and I still say that when the media were referring to her as “Fatgirl” they didn’t mean it like you think they did. It was what she did for the guys that earned her that tag). I now know that for quite a few dollars less – at least ten bucks less! – I could’ve headed to a totally different theater and seen a whole bunch of women in leather – and even more, Batman wouldn’t have been the only one getting a Mask.

Elektra

If it were 1972, and this starred Pam Grier, it would’ve found it’s audience. There’s not much to be sad about the ill-fated “Daredevil” spin-off other than… they must’ve changed the globe in the illuminated exit sign at the theater that day, because it was shining oh-so brightly. The only film on earth that has the distinction of needing Ben Affleck in it.

X-Men : The Last Stand

I’ve never felt more annoyed by a film – Ok, well maybe “Prom Night” – as I did when I saw the atrocity that was “X-Men : The Last Stand”. Look, yes, everyone was back; the storyline continued; loose ends were tied up… but did everything have to feel so small and emotionless? This felt like a cheap TV movie spin-off of the first two movies. You can see Brett Ratner calling ‘Cut!’, then quickly heading to an all-night bank to cash his check – after all, he needs dough to buy the blow he smothers on stripper chests. I wanted to throw a bottle through the fuckin’ cinema screen after sitting through this. My interest factor in the upcoming “Wolverine” rests somewhere between “meh” and “humm”.

Semi-Pro

Will Ferrell is quickly becoming the M. Night Shyamalan of comedies – his first couple of films encompassed real surprises, but the rest have blown like a fizzled light-bulb. Did anyone see this piece of shit? Where was the gag!? You’d need a magnifying glass to spot the funny in this piss-weak sports spoof. What next Will? A Water Aerobics satire? Maybe a Go-kart racing flick? Hey, what about a film, written and directed by Judd Apatow, in which a hitman played by Seth Rogen rans you over in his monster truck within the first five minutes of the film? (Ferrell needs Judd Apatow like Corey Haim needs to get high again).

Click

We didn’t ask you to grow up, Adam! We quite liked seeing you chase penguins around your front yard! We liked seeing you teach the kiddies how to say the F-Word! We loved seeing you belt the shit out of Bob Barker with a Golf Club! Heck, we even didn’t mind hearing the much-repeated “Something that could’ve been bought to my attention yessssterdaay!” that much (OK, it got a bit annoying). But did anyone see “Click”? Great idea, huh? I’ll second that. But they fucked it. They fucked us. Our ends were red by the end of this raping. What could’ve been a terrific Adam Sandler comedy was instead an overlong melodramatic weepie – though I doubt anyone actually cried, it was too forced – that turned Fonzie into a Pussy, and Sandler into a limp tampon. “You Don’t mess with the Zohan” isn’t a brilliant film – but it’s sure as shit more entertaining than this number.

Basic Instinct 2

You know when you’re bored by sex scenes that it’s becauuse a) you’ve yet to read “Where did I come from?” or b) the sex scenes are about as erotic and appealing as Sarah Jessica Parker’s hairy back emerging from a tub of mud or, c) 90-year-old Sharon Stone’s in the movie – and once again, she’s got her friends over. Sharon used to be sexier than free money, I’ll admit that, heck, she even made “Sliver” watchable – but “Basic Instinct 2”, with her plastic face and plaster tits? Now that was an absolute turn-off. And how on earth did they manage to go from Robert Downey Jr to Kurt Russell to… David Morrisey… when it came to casting the lead guy? A bag of fuckin’ potato chips had more sex appeal than that poncy pap-smear! I still remember everyone chuckling as they walked out of the media screening for “Basic Instinct 2” – and that was just the publicists. If I’d paid money for it, I would’ve jumped the bench, forced open the cash register… and returned the monies to sender. Then returned an hour later, once the flashbacks of Shazza’s sex scene popped into my head, to vomit in it.

Thank god for “The Dark Knight”. Thank god for “Step Up 2 : The Streets” – I kid.

Amber Heard. This Week’s Hottie. Love this Woman. She’s in “All the Boys Love Mandy Lane” and “The Pineapple Express”. She’s smokin’.

Finally, thanks for all your comments about the new site; glad you like it. I’ve had more hits this week than I did from Ma’s abusive boyfriend back in the day. It’s great. Appreciate your patronage.

Don’t forget to buy the “Moviehole” edible undies next time you visit.