by Roland McShyster September 26, 2005 Guapo, America! Not sure what that means, but it seemed like the thing to say. I hope you’re all enjoying your useless lives, as am I. We’ve got a full slate of new movies to ogle this week, so I shall waste no more time with the time wastery. On to the reviews!
Everything is Illuminati Red Bagel’s directorial debut is unlikely to be seen outside of the commune offices, and for good reason: a popular staff revolt rose up and destroyed the negatives part way through last week’s debut screening. I’m still obligated to review the former film, however, and I will say this in its favor: I vaguely remember it starring an eight-year-old kid who looked kind of like Elijah Wood. Flightplan From the naming geniuses who brought you Coldplay and Riverdance comes Flightplan, an airline thriller starring Jodie Foster as a weird furry gremlin who loves nothing more than prancing around on the wings of planes in flight, futzing with the wiring just to mess with alcoholic passengers. Foster is her normal emotive self, even behind the thick layer of dryer lint and dog hair that passes for animal effects in this insufficiently-budgeted production. You can clearly see where they spent the money, however: not on the plane set. I’ve seen more convincing airline cabins in fourth-grade dioramas. Everyone has way too much legroom and at no time do any of the passengers suffer the indignity of having an obese seatmate ooze over the armrest, bogarting a healthy portion of their precious real estate. Proof You asked for proof that Gwenyth Paltrow can’t act, and the Hollywood gods have answered your prayers. Though personally, if I were you, I would have been praying for a Lamborghini or a lifetime supply of veal or something nice like that. I bet you feel stupid now, but who knew they were listening? As the hick philosopher Garth Brooks once mused, some of god’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers. Which must make this movie one of god’s greatest fuck-yous. Tim Burton’s Corpse Pride Tired of the living and the religious right denigrating the dead, half-dead director Tim Burton has launched the opening salvo in the upcoming pro-life/pro-death culture wars sure to make our society even more of a pain in the ass than it already is. Famed for the darkly whimsical dreamscapes in his films The Dead Burping Baby, Robert Smithands, Johnny Depp in a Different Shirt, and Asslefranz, Burton has always been one to speak up for deads’ rights and their bouncy circus music. His latest film is no exception, featuring Depp and Led Zep offspring Helena Bonham Carter as singing maggot food in a stop-animated adventure filmed using real corpses. Though some might consider the rousing New Orleans musical number that closes the film to be in poor taste, these are the same people who didn’t like Ishtar. Wow, America. And I think that about says it all. For more says-it-alling, please refer to the last word in every book in your bookcase. Write them all down on a legal pad and see if you can make some kind of coherent sentence or paragraph out of them. If you can’t, return all your books to your local bookseller and demand a refund. The nerve of some people. Quote of the Day“Love, love will tear us apart again. So quit telling those jocks we both like it in the butt.”-Joy Divinski Fortune 500 CookieYou will spend so much time with your foot in your mouth this week, people will mistake it for performance art. Beat the living shit out of the first person who calls you "buddy" today—best to nip that shit in the bud. Your only remaining shot at true happiness now is joining a cult or getting hooked on heroin: your call. This week's lucky midgets: "Stretch" Svorsded, Suitcase Mike, Jimmy "Dogslapper" McVaughn, Upskirt Kilgore, Ross "The Toss" Ramstein.Try again later. Last 5 Places Saddam Hussein Was Hiding
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