I really, really hate these movies, so if you happen to like any of them, please know that they’ve struck a nerve with me that I know is completely irrational in it’s intensity. But good fun for me, in a clean sweep of the spleen sort of way.
Down with Love. I even kinda like Doris Day type movies, but this was not a Doris Day movie, it was not an hommage, it was not a satire of them, it was just CRAP in fugly ham-handedly pseudo-period clothes. I hate that chipmunk played the female lead, Runny Zipperhead I think she’s called, and it was a complete waste of Ewan McGregor. And nobody will ever replace the wonder that was Tony Randall as the neurotic sidekick (yes, I know he wasn’t brilliant, that was part of the charm, shuddup-- I do not either luv him). Not even Niles Crane (‘From Frasier!’ the neon sign over his head reads every time he’s on screen) could do anything except point out how they should have dispensed with the role instead of denigrating it with a shabby substitute. Then again, the whole movie was a travesty and an insult on an infinite number of levels in it’s entirety.
Jerry Maguire. I didn’t even see this movie before I hated it so much, based on the ads alone, that I needed medication to handle the stress. Then I spent months being bombarded by movie talk and that goddam ‘show me the money’ every stronzo with two sickly brain cells to rub together would vomit at me every five seconds. Then I watched a part of it, maybe the whole thing, I can’t be sure between passing out from the horror and what I’ve managed to block in an attempt to preserve the remainder of my Maguire-savaged mind. A million years later and there’s still a jackass at work with a ‘money’ license plate holder and I want to put the car in a crusher every time I see it. I also want to take that little swollen-headed kid and pinch his head into a gory ball of bone shards and pulp before feeding him to rabid wolves with dull teeth. Yes, dull teeth because even though he’d be dead, I want his parents to know the disposal of his remains was as awful as possible because they unleashed that freakish hydrocephally imposter on the movie-going public. You don’t even want to know what I’d do to Tom Cruise, because you wouldn’t like to be institutionalised because I told you. Rest assured, I will see he pays for every single one of the abortions in his filmography. And that goes double for Magnolia, you erection under tighty whities, misogynist portraying, Scientologist (sorry for using the $-word folks, but I felt he deserved the worst insult I could come up with). Cuba Gooding Jr is redeemed only slightly because of As Good as it Gets which inexplicably I like, probably because of the dog. It sure as hell wasn’t that Helen ‘I’m amazingly over-rated’ Hunt. So I’m waiting to see if I’ll need to design something for Cuba that’ll curdle the soul. You might want to pack an emergency get away bag, Mr Gooding-- lately you reek. Yep, I really don’t like that movie.
Every one of the Godfather movies. They’re boring movies about nasty people, doing yucky things, to whom I cannot relate in the slightest. I worry about people who identify a little too much and glorify the cancer on this world that is the Mafia.
Shane. “Come back Shane!” No, he can’t come back you little asshole, he’s dead and I killed him just to make your life suck. Now go get run over by a speeding wagon and make my day complete.
Rebel without a Cause. I think James Dean was an unattractive, emotionally stunted, self-centered freak. Which would make him perfect for this movie, because crap should always be festooned with it’s own special little maggot trimming. ‘Poor meeee! Noooobody understands meeeeee! Life is just so haaaaaard!’ Suck it up dillweed. You think everybody else has it easier somehow? No-- they got their heads out of their asses and dealt with what they were handed any way they could. Go wash out about a pound of that Brylcream in your hair, too, you greasy-headed schmuck. And the red jacket is stupid.
Ahhhh, much better now. My spleen is clean as a whistle.
