Critique of a Critic: Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Most movie critics have no qualifications to be telling people what to watch. They ‘analyze’ movies with no accountability and no one to make sure they’re doing their jobs. That is, until now.

Review: “It's really hard to like a character when his own movie makes fun of him.” - MaryAnn Johanson, of FlickFilospher.com

Review of Review: “It’s really hard take a critic seriously when she talks out of her ass for the whole review and upon further research, her entire career.”

This woman obviously knows comedy. I mean, who likes a comedian who is self-deprecating? When I go to comedy shows all I want to see is good looking, arrogant assholes. Oh wait, my bad. Using the most basic research tool known to man, Wikipedia, one could find out that self-deprecation is commonly used by some of the most hilarious and successful comedy writers ever. She must have missed Woody Allen, Larry David, Jon Stewart, Conan O’Brien and David Letterman while she was watching Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List.

Good thing we have Professor MaryAnn “Giggles” Johanson to lecture us about comedic theory:

Oh, but you’re not supposed to “think” about a movie like Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Then, perhaps, you’ll actually find it shocking and outrageous when Segel appears full-frontally starkers for no reason… (Not that there’s anything gross about the human body except in the eyes of movies like this, of course).

Not only is she contradicting herself by not thinking and irrationally jumping to conclusions, she again did no basic research to find out the motives of the movie’s makers. If she had, she would have realized that the dong’s intent was to make the exact commentary she said was devoid from the movie.

It’s better if you don’t think too much because then you can ignore the ridiculous coincidence [that reunites the recently broken-up couple in Hawaii].

Yes, because movies never have coincidences or unexplainable events that act as plot drivers. Even if anyone did give a shit that a comedy had some slight plot holes, she’s ignoring that it is all blatantly explained (however unreasonable it may be). Apparently Sarah Marshall doesn’t live up to the literary standards like some of her recent favorites like Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium or The Bucket List.

[Editor's note: Anyone who still refers to themselves as a Generation Xer shouldn't be reviewing movies that came out in '95, much less now. Stick with your Reality Bites and your God damn Dave Eggers.]

Pope Benedict’s L.A. Itinerary

The Pope's itinerary from his recent trip to Los Angeles has surfaced on the Internet.

Day 1:

9:15 a.m. - Kick off “Pope It Like It’s Hot” promotion of the new RCC (Roman Catholic Church)

12:00 - Lunch at Nobu

2:30 p.m. – Deliver ultimatum to Hollywood Jews: “One more ‘Basic Instinct’ sequel… or else.”

4:45 p.m. - Test the durability of the Pope Mobile’s bullet-proof glass by doing two full miles on the 405

9:00 p.m. - Cage match with Tom Cruise for control of the greater universe

Day 2:

9:15 a.m. – Issue Papal Edict 919: “Double Bacon Croaissanwich, stat.”

11:30 a.m. – Kimmel live (use childhood stigmata anecdote)

1:30 – Return Zeta-Jones’ phone call; ‘Sorry, it’s binding, you’re stuck with him.’

4:00 p.m. - Chin lift; eyes done.

11:00 p.m. – Clubbin’ on Sunset. (wear black robes, gold cross)

Day 3:

9:15 a.m. – Bloody Marys, Alka-Seltzer

10:00 a.m. – 2 p.m. – Cut tracks for new album: “Pontiffication” (feat. Chingy), “Love Missal,” and “Psalm Like it Hot.”

12:00 p.m. – Anointing of the sick rims on Chingy’s Escalade

2 p.m.- 5 p.m. – Shop for new robes on Rodeo, pimp Holy Miter with crystals

Days 4-6: Vegas, baby!

Day 7:

8:00 a.m. - Return flight. Take quiet time to visit His altar and worship at the feet of Christianity’s only higher power – Mel Gibson.

Remake Hollywood

“Hulk”. “King Kong”. “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”. What do all of these films have in common? They have all been, or are in the process of being, remade.

Hollywood is nothing if not a bastion of liberalism, and just as driving a Prius and recycling cereal boxes are core liberal values, so too is the recycling of movies.

The tragedy of the Hollywood remake is perhaps best exemplified by the soon-to-be-released “The Incredible Hulk”. Ang Lee’s “Hulk” came out just five years ago and was none too well received if memory serves. Eric Bana as Bruce Banner was dark, distant and sullen, and seemed more or less content to exist within the confines of a petri dish. His idea of getting angry consisted of gritting his teeth and growing an extra 9 feet; the man could have used some training in teeth-gritting from the recently deceased Chuck Heston. Remaking a movie this soon after the original disaster is like losing a contest of who-can-ejaculate-the-farthest, then challenging your opponent to a rematch fifteen seconds later.

So how the fuck is it that Marvel and Universal saw fit to remake a movie that a ten year old in 2003 will be able to remember as being a stinking pile of green eggs and shit as a fifteen year old come June 2008? And Edward Norton? I mean, come on. Lose street cred much? Been a few years since “American History X” and “Fight Club”.

Moving on, I propose that after the second remake of “King Kong” (let’s remember that that means the movie has actually been made three times) Peter Jackson should not be allowed to replicate anything onscreen larger than a tree or an elf or an orc. And he should have fairly limited access to those.

“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. Haven’t seen it, I’ve only seen the original. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make a motion to confine Johnny Depp to roles where he can’t: paint his face white; wear a costume; ever be directed by Tim Burton, ever again.

Fuck, man

Grand Theft Auto Easter Eggs

MadAtoms has gained an exclusive copy of these deleted cutscenes from GTA4.


Grand Theft Auto Easter Egg

He's So Straight, He's Gay

It's official: hyper-machismo is the new gay.

We all know that guy. He lives his life just a bit too close to our personal space. He relishes every opportunity for man-on-man contact: high-fives, chest bumps, spontaneous wrestling matches, invasive wet willies. He always checks to see if you wanna "work out," with no hint of irony. He doesn't realize it, but he's totally gay.

I used to think that sexual orientation was a straight-line continuum, but it's actually more like a circle, and hyper-straight men have gone so far around their end that they've looped back to the gay side. And not the cutesy, fun-loving West Hollywood gay, but rather the no-nonsense, sock-in-your-mouth, prison cell gay.

The whole teabagging phenomenon should've been a clue. What straight man would want to put his junk anywhere near another man's face? Who's degraded more in this equation?

But über-butches will do anything for the approval of their "boys" -- particularly if it involves rubbing testicles on another man's person. They're so male-centric that now I realize that "Bros before hos" isn't just a philosophy; it's a mating call.

It makes sense, really, because gay men trying to act straight tend to overcompensate, like, "See, I love poon! It's all...flappy and stuff." It's transparent and sad.

C'mon, guys, look deep inside -- you know, where your boy stuck a Sharpie when you were asleep -- and you'll realize that you're living a lie. Put down that Dane Cook CD and pick up a rainbow flag. This is 2008; you can be both macho and proudly gay. Look at Lorenzo Lamas or that construction worker from The Village People.

To the People who Love Canter's Deli:

Stop it.

Everyone has one friend who LOVES Canters. They suggest it every time a group of 3 or more are hungry and, once a week, they go out of their way to mention a craving for those pickles and bagel chips they have. I understand going out of your way to get a really good steak, or driving an extra 15 minutes to get to the bar that's got your favorite beer on tap. But Canter's is a deli.

As a matter of convention, they serve basic foods you can buy in a grocery store. If we boil this down to Canters' basic function as an establishment, you're really paying these people to assemble 3 or 4 ingredients into a sloppy stack or bowl of those 3 or 4 ingredients.

But what restaurant doesn't? Isn't the point of eating out that someone else prepares the meal while you and your homeys talk shit on your friends who aren't there? Yes, absolutely. But the process of going to Canter's is an absolute nightmare. Not only do you have to wait in line no matter when you eat, but parking there is impossible considering the additive cluster-fuck effects of being Melrose-adjacent and across the street from a high school.

So once you've performed the Herculean tasks of finding parking, standing in line, and getting sat at a table, you get to eat some food that looks shockingly like food you can make in your own fucking house. I'm sorry, but if I'm going to pay 12 dollars for a sandwich, it better include a hand job and free valet.

Canter's does not.

Believe me... I asked about the hand job and was pointed toward a 50 year-old Eastern European battle-axe who stuck out her palm for 'tventy fife dollas'. Cheap. Not free.

The Future of Hip Hop Smells Like a Frat Boy

Hip hop. It’s a genre of music. It’s a cultural movement. It’s an attitude. And now, a way to sell perfume in a can.

Proctor & Gamble is launching a record label to bolster the image of their TAG body sprays and deodorants. They’ve cleverly called it TAG records. This came as a surprise to me, since until now most ads for TAG involved promising young white guys that TAG products would get them laid by bikini models.

Since young white guys really really want to get laid by bikini models, the side effect of this marketing is that men purchasing this product spray about three times the amount of scent needed.

Guys, there’s only one thing that women can smell right away. And that is desperation.

I appreciate that TAG wants to expand beyond the gullible young white guy market, but what kind of rapper is going to sign up for TAG records? TAG isn’t a high-end product like a Mercedes or health insurance. It’s something literally any douchebag can, and does, purchase.

Now if the label was put together by King Cobra or Smith & Wesson, THAT would a place to go for street cred. But a deodorant maker? You might as well cut your record with the help of LA looks hair gel.

P & G (that’s their street name) knows that grooming products alone won’t attract talent, so they went ahead and put Jermanie Dupri in charge.

He’s a big shot producer who has worked with Usher, Mariah Carey, Kris Kross and many others, but can he lure artists to a label that is fundamentally a corporate sell-out?

(Editor's note: I hope so. Maybe it'll finally kill a dying genre. Actually, it was dead by '96. RIP Tupac)

And we all know P&G won’t limit themselves to just hip hop. How about a Hair Metal label sponsored by Head & Shoulders? A Goth label sponsored by CoverGirl? An Emo label sponsored by Gillete razor blades? The possibilities for poorly conceived panders to America’s youth are really limitless.

I just don’t think I’m ready to buy any music from T-Pax Records.

Retard Romance

Does anyone want to have to think about retards banging?

Dear Hollywood Execs,

I get it, you’re equal opportunity whores and so am I, but do me a favor and stop making movies and television shows with the mentally handicapped boning down. When I was a kid I happened to watch Life Goes On and they let two 'tards fuck and then have a baby. A BABY. I’m not saying that retards do not deserve a baby, but seriously, get real.

The last thing I need is retard sex embedded into my psyche forever. Too bad after the whole Life Goes On incident things inevitably got worse after I happened to watch The Other Sister(go to about the 2 minute mark in the clip). Some exec smelled Oscar when she read the script and saw the part about the two of them reading The Joy of Sex while planning a session of steamy, hot, love making, with a few misplaced chromosomes.

I know that Juliette Lewis and Giovanni Ribisi are not actually 'tards (just Scientologists), but the idea of those two intentionally acting retarded and consequently having sex in a "drama"...just send the Academy a check. It would be more dignified than this kind of schlocky pandering for industry recognition.

(Editor's Note: I haven't actually seen I Am Sam, but from what I gather in this clip, retarded Sean Penn is caught banging a (possibly retarded?) hooker.)

I’m not saying we don't need retards in films, I’m just asking for some discretion. I once had to suffer through an episode of Law & Order where the parents of some retards were trying to get them fixed like they were insubordinate animals because all they wanted to do was screw.

On a personal note, every time I run into my friend’s mentally challenged Aunt, I feel like a pervert because I immediately imagine her humping Corky from Life Goes On.

XO,

Sabrina C.

An Ex-Con’s Guide to Being a Background Artist

So you just got out of prison and you need to find gainful employment. Where’s a parolee to go? Central Casting!

Here are some tips to help a fish survive his new life as an extra.

-If you’re working on a cattle call where there are more extras than cells in a block, know that they can’t really keep track of everyone, and unlike COs, PA’s don’t do counts. This means you can wander off the yard and find a quiet place to nap or do push-ups. Just make sure you make it back to the bullpen before your bit is up.

-Stay away from anyone with lawn chairs. These lifers make a career out of being an extra and love to talk about how they got to be a pirate on Dead Men’s Chest. They will bore you to tattooed tears and you’ll probably be tempted to shank them, which, (unlike in prison,) will not help you gain the respect and esteem of your background artist cellies.

-Stick a Snickers bar or a can of Coke in your pocket every time you walk by the Kraft service table. Take your score home and send care packages to that cho-mo with the life jolt. Or, if you’re feeling entrepreneurial, you can exploit small black children to unload your stash for you; just send the kid to fence the wham whams outside any Starbucks in West Hollywood or Beverly Hills.

-Sometimes production companies will try to save money by giving the extras cheap boxed lunches while the crew eats gourmet spread from a lunch truck. Don’t plex, just pose as a gaffer. Even people who work on movies don’t really know what gaffers do, so just act like you belong and you know what you’re doing. And if anyone rats you out, just dummy up, give 'em the red eye and roll it up back to extra holding.

Trailer Trash: Bangkok Dangerous

Cage. Haircut. Bad.

Bangkok Dangerous? What is that? It's not a sentence, or a description, or anything! It's two words placed next to each other!

Apparently, this is a re-make of a Thai movie called... Bangkok Dangerous. Maybe the title somehow makes sense in a country where heroin is cheaper than milk. Still, that's no excuse. They should at least put some fucking punctuation in there. What about, Bangkok? Dangerous! Or at least, Bangkok; Dangerous. Bet you’ve never seen a movie with a semi-colon in the title.

Does Nicholas Cage have it written into his contract that every movie he makes has to have really serious narration with the main character going through some existential crisis? Is it like a focus group thing, where audiences expect it and are disappointed if there isn't any grim voice over?

Speaking of Cage, his haircut in this trailer is just an absolute disaster. The embarrassing thing is that I had the exact same haircut junior year in high school. I mean identical. It’s like he went back in time, shaved my head, and made a wig out of it. All I can say is that it was a different time.

Now, I don’t expect every Cage movie to be completely original. They can’t all be Ghost Rider (or can they…). But Bangkok Dangerous seems to be pushing the limits of hackneyed filmmaking. An expert hitman developing a conscience? Why not make Cage’s character a retard, rename the movie Forrest Gump, and call it a day?

I usually let trailer narration slide, because it’s all so weird it hardly seems fair to single any one out. But there’s a line in Bangkok Dangerous that’s just priceless: “When you deal in the business of death, saving a life can be the most deadly job of all.”

Um… is that like one of those sayings that’s supposed to clear the mind of conscious thought, like the tree falling in the woods, or licks in a tootsie roll pop? I’ve read it like fifteen times. The more I read it, the more I’m convinced that Robert Frost has been resurrected and is now writing trailer copy for shitty action films.

GTA 4

Barack Obama: “Stop enjoying your childhood”

Supporters of Barack Obama will often tell you that he’s for: hope, progress, and the elimination of subsidies to the private student loan industry which has repeatedly used unethical business practices. But they rarely tell you what he’s against: fun.

In his speeches Obama will often mention that that America needs to “parent better” and we should “turn off the television set, turn off the videogames.”

Normally, politicians get all snippy when children start playing games that simulate the murder of pedestrians and prostitutes. But when Obama mentions videogames, it is because he associates them with underachievement.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but I’ve known for a long time that Obama was in the pocket of the powerful reading and learning industries.

But with our manufacturing base decimated and our white collar jobs all shipped to India, what industry does Obama think will power the US economy in the future? Trigonometry? Spelling?

No. In our likely post-apocalyptic future, the real growth industry will be sniping. In order to have a robust sniper-based economy, we need to start training kids today. Under Obama’s plan, America economy would get pwned by Chinese n00bs.

But videogames can help kids in more traditional areas of education as well.

For example, did you know that turtles can carry salmonella? Kids are right to learn to stomp them.

And dogs are animals, right? Then what better way to learn about biology than a vigorous game of Nintendogs?

The point is that a vigorous videogame regimen is actually good for children. Why do you think that Japanese and South Korean schools are consistently ranked better than the schools here? The key to achievement isn’t discipline, it’s Xbox.

Besides, those videogames and television shows are handcrafted by the gentle, hardworking residents of Los Angeles. We put in an honest day’s work making the world’s finest first-person shooters and reality dating shows. Next to food and jobs, our popular culture is America’s chief export.

It ain’t science or math, Obama.

Acceptable Reasons to Be Late for Work

Because everyone has to fight the traffic.

A 10-mile drive in LA can easily take an hour, so what excuse can you give for being late for work when everyone has to fight traffic? Here's a few choice options.

The paparazzi confused me for Mario Lopez.

Make sure you pick a star that: A) you look remotely like and B) is famous enough to be hounded but not so famous that the paparazzi would've tailed you all the way to work.

It's the Scientology time of prayer.

Employers won't touch this one with a 10-foot pole. They won't know enough about Scientology practices to argue, and they won't want to infringe on anyone's religion -- especially one that has non-believers fed to giant sand worms.

I had to smuggle a nanny across the border.

This one is both relatable and socially relevant. Your boss will want accept the excuse to show his commitment to diversity -- short of actually hiring a Mexican himself.

The reality show I auditioned for made me eat sheep zits dipped in bile, which of course gave me projectile diarrhea.

You can play around with the exact food you had to eat for the audition, but it should always come back to projectile diarrhea.

The porn shoot at my house needed a third dick.

Back in the day, this excuse would be the exclusive territory of the rich and pervy in the Hollywood Hills, but nowadays all you need to make a porn movie is a video camera, Internet access and a teen with low self-worth.

The dead hooker in my trunk was leaking.

We've all been there before, haven't we? Chances are you won't even have to explain any further, except maybe to specify which bodily fluid was leaking (my choice: lymph).

Get in my In-Box, You Sluts of Myspace

It might just be me, but I miss Myspace. I miss the anonymity of stalking or being stalked without having your current mood displayed for an entire social networking site to see.

I miss Myspace’s clean and sleek bulletin board, uncluttered with bullshit applications. I’m gonna say right now, I don’t give a rat’s arse about tending your garden, playing Scrabulous, or poking you. In fact, poking kind of hurts, so don’t bother to poke me back.

I’m especially depressed by seeing photo after photo of babies, and pregnant friends. I’m in my twenties for godssake, and I live in Los Angeles, land of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Keep your engagement rings on your fingers, and put your ugly babies up for adoption. You are totally harshing my social networking mojo.

Last night I got totally nostalgic. I got two friend requests from two totally hot sluts: Carisssa and Heidi. Both sent me pleasant messages, imploring me to be their friends. Heidi told me how lonely she is, and wouldn’t it be nice if I could be friends with her and her nudie pictures? Carissa was a little more blatant. She asked me if I like big tits.

Now, I’m a straight female, but let’s be honest here, who doesn’t love big tits? So I did something I haven’t done in weeks. I signed onto Myspace. It’s simple white and blue background put a twinkle in my eye. I noticed my favorite indie band was coming to town, and someone needed to get rid of a kitten. I’ve missed so much!

Then I did something I’ve actually never done. I approved my two new slut friends. I didn’t even have to ask them how we knew each other, or tag which school we both attended. With just one click I instantly had two new hot friends who won’t hold it against me that I’m not giving them gifts, or completing their compatibility tests.

These girls are nice and simple. I can look at their giant tits, and the only garden I have to tend is my own. I miss you Myspace.

Your Computer Thinks You’re Ugly

But it'll still pork you.

There’s a new way to interact with your computer. It involves your dong.

Recently, I came across a few disturbing things on the internet, and neither was the work of Japanese.

First of all, they’ve went and made the Fleshlight USB compatible.

What is a Fleshlight? Imagine a large flashlight, rip out the bulb, reflector, and the batteries, then stick in a silicone cooter. That's a fleshlight, and it creeps me the hell out. Normally, the word "flesh" is followed by "crawl" or "eating bacteria." This device is about as appealing as a toaster with a sexy mouth, or a garbage disposal with a nice ass.

Now this little rubbery hamcave can be hooked up to the computer as an “input device.” You can play “sex games”, where your thrusting translates into simulated movements.

Right now it seems it is only games involving boning, but wait a few weeks and some enterprising fellow will be scoring headshots with his schlong in Call Of Duty 4.

If you’d like to get one, here’s the link. (NSFW!)

At the same time as I learned about this “improved” USB fleshlight, researchers in Israel have invented a computer program that can recognize beauty in women.

Why just women? Maybe because the standards of attractiveness vary so widely for men, or maybe it is because these Israeli scientists are some ugly bastards. There’s no way to know.

The program can see an image of a woman, and based on various factors, can determine her attractiveness.

In a society already overly obsessed with appearance, these scientists are looking for a way to quantify beauty mathematically.

I’m not convinced I want computers knowing how unattractive we are. You think girls have image problems now? Wait till their BlackBerry calls them ugly. And can prove it. With a chart.

The only upside is that when tomorrow’s generation of actresses get past the computer controlled auditioning process, they can do their casting couch work from home, via fleshlight connection.

And that means less driving, and less greenhouse gas emissions. Who needs self-esteem and self-respect when you have a cleaner earth?

How to Throw the Perfect Abortion Shower

These days it seems like preggers is the new anorexic.

With celebs like Nicole Ricci recently popping one out and Jamie Lynn Spears on stork watch before her 17^th birthday, not to mention movies like Juno and Knocked Up, you’d think that no one in Hollywood has ever heard of an abortion. Sure, babies are cute and the tabloids love a baby bump rumor, but there is something to be said about not giving birth to your Pilates instructor’s illegitimate love child.

For the Hollywood homemaker who doesn’t want to lose her size 2 status, even if it is only for 9 months, abortions can be chic too. Just think of all the Louis Vuitton purses you can buy with the money you’ll save from not having a baby. And what better way to celebrate your newly vacuumed interior than by throwing your self a Bye Bye Baby Shower! Amanda Egge gives you tips on how an abortion party is done, Hollywood style.

Who Should Host?

Unlike baby showers, it is perfectly acceptable to throw your own abortion shower. Abortions are essentially selfish acts, and as such, the aborter is expected to engage in other selfish and self-centered acts, like throwing a party for herself, asking for presents and spending a thousand dollars on an outfit that shows of her hot, flat baby-free tummy!

Invitations

It’s probably best to keep the invitations discreet, lest your baby killing gets leaked to the gossip blogs. In this case, a simple phone call or text saying “Abortion Shower, Saturday at 2, my place.” is totally appropriate. Just remember to leave any pro-life friends off the guest list (the last thing you need is a guilt trip about how you should have sacrificed 9 months of clubbing to grow a baby for some Brangelina wannabes!)

Gift Registry

Have fun with the gift registry. Remember, you aren’t having a baby so pick items that are inappropriate for an expectant mother such as a wine decanter, a sterling silver coke straw or kick boxing classes. Flasks and rollerblades also make great abortion shower gifts; nothing says “no longer with child” better than a drunk girl with wheels strapped to her feet!

Themes and Games

Do make your abortion shower have a special theme, such as Pirate (arg!), Barnyard Hoe Down or Luau. Then pick games based on the theme such as the Pirate themed game Pin the Fetus on the Plank, or go with an abortion shower classic like Stairway to Heaven Musical Chairs!

So go ahead and celebrate your newly evacuated uterus, get wasted and smoke cigarettes like you’ve never heard of lung cancer. Then, the next time the pool boy tries to get you to go bareback, just remember: pregnancy is curable but herpes and AIDS are totally not, so be a smart Hollywood homemaker, have fun and don’t forget to rubber up!