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07/2/25   
Corrupt Offensive Manipulative Masturbatory Unfair Narcissistic Egos

by Roland McShyster
bio/email
August 29, 2005


Holy Toledo, America. I've never been to the place, but it sounds like quite the religious Mecca. What religion? I have no idea, but if it's Ohio, it's probably Shriners. That just seems to fit. Anyway, we're back and black after a wonderful vacation from the grind of viewing and reviewing. Are you all ready for the return of The Entertainment Police? Neither are we. Tough noodles.

In Theaters Now:

The Brothel Grimm
That weird cartoon witch's dog is back, and he's running a whorehouse. Sure, it's been done before, but this time legendary director Terry Gilmore of Gilmore Girls fame is at the helm, and he knows how to weird shit up like a pro. From Time Midgets to What's Eating Gilbert's Grapes?, Gilmore has proven time and time again that he can spin gold into hay or blonde hair or however that Rapunzel alchemy shit is supposed to work. The scariest thing this time around was that I couldn't tell if this movie was animated or claymated or CGI or if it was made by those creepy-ass Duracell people from that Christmas Train movie. I suppose some people would find that ambiguity magical, but I have to admit it creeped the hair right off my ass and I spent most of the movie in the john.

The Dukes of Gazzara
Ben Gazzara is back and hick as ever in this remake of his popular 70's show about Gazzara and his legendary contempt for royalty. Sure, Ben's a lot older now, but with age comes wisdom (occasionally) and in Gazzara's case, it just makes the wisecracks crankier and that much more funny. The supporting cast leaves a little bit to be desired though, since country music upstart Johnny Knoxville and that other guy don't have much to do, plus Jessica Simpson's ass suit springs a leak about ten minutes in and by the end of the film her cutoffs are looking pretty saggy. Which pretty much negates her reason for being in the film, and begs the question of whether or not J-Lo's ass had other engagements, or if there was a falling star sitting on it at the time of this film's production.

The 4-Year-Old Virgin
Sex comedies don't get any more offensive than this raunchy chronicle of a preschooler dealing with the intense social pressure to get laid. Some deep inner part of me was pained by the very concept of the film, but then I realized I was just hungry. After a box of nachos I was able to do my duty (not like that, I took care of that during The Brothel Grimm) and enjoy what Hollywood was crapping into my lap. Offensive or not, there are plenty of great jokes in the film about naptime and getting together over a couple of juice boxes, that kind of thing. But whoever penned the bit about giving 4-year-olds Viagra, could you raise your hand so I'll know to stand clear when the lightning strikes? Thanks.

Wedding Crushers
Here we go again with another weird Transformers rip-off about lonely killing machines who hate to see people getting married. Vince Ray Vaughn and sports magnate Owen Wilson star as the titular bots, and breathe some much needed life and levity into a script that has more emotional baggage than the Samsonite heirs. Though as with almost any comedy released these days, I missed most of the film while I was wondering what in the hell is up with Owen Wilson's nose. Seriously. If you know, send an email.


And that's that-a-tat-tat, America. Hope you're finding a reason to breathe these days, if not, well then you probably can't read this anyway. Unless they've got the Internet in hell. Do you think they have in Internet in hell? Probably, but I bet it's over a really crappy slow dial-up connection, and they've got some kind of virus that inserts disturbing transvestite porn into everything. I guess that's why nobody wants to go there. That, and I hear it's full of the kind of people who forward mass emails. Yech. Until next time, I'm Roland McShyster.


Quote of the Day
“Impartiality is a pompous name for indifference, which is an elegant name for Cletus, my inbred asscrack of a neighbor about whom I am far from indifferent.”

-CK Festerchild
Fortune 500 Cookie
You wir find gleat rove in an ord flend. That's not an accented translation; you just have a really weird fortune this week. It's time to face the facts, or at least the facts of life: even if you manage to get that face you drew on your hand pregnant, it's just going to be one more mouth to feed. This week's lucky ringtones: Hangin' Tough, Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm, Two Princes, Kokomo.


Try again later.
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Archives
August 22, 2005
Greetings, sub-middle America. The healthy computer-glow tan I received over my vacation reminds me that I wasn't around to comment on the recent box office failure of The Island. I would gloat until the cows came home, then chop them into... (8/22/05)

July 11, 2005
Stop the madness, America! Sorry, I thought that might be the secret cure for mental illness that has been eluding us all these eons. But I can see from my window that guy in the beekeeper outfit is still panhandling outside, so apparently my... (7/11/05)

July 4, 2005
Here’s the choice: Get out of the house for a while and see an appallingly awful action movie, or stay at home and watch some hideous 6-month-old pretentious Oscar-contenders. Either way, you lose, but your expenses are reduced when you suffer in... (7/4/05)

June 27, 2005
Yeah, yeah, yeah, America, I know it's time for another blistering weekload of on the mark movie reviews, on the money insights, and on the couch opinions. I'll get to that in a second; right now I'm trying to figure out what makes this little... (6/27/05)

June 20, 2005
No time for chit-chat. Hollywood has bombarded us with first-run DVD releases after months of drowning us in TV. So let's check out some of them. Now on DVD: Coach Carter A real novelty: Inner-city black and Hispanic kids who... (6/20/05)

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