Tuesday, August 08, 2006

So I haven't trashed any recent or upcoming movies lately...

... and it's high time I remedied that thoughtless oversight. Here it is, T.C.I.'s Top Five Movies He Knows Will Blow Based on Previews Alone, pt. III.

SMARTASS CYNICKITE: That has got to be your weakest intro yet.

But it was brief.

SMARTASS CYNICKITE: Well-played, Master.

I have got to stop letting you assholes interrupt me.


> The plot as far as I can tell from the trailers: Every single idea for an animated movie has been done already, so here's another cartoon about bugs.

> Why it will suck: Do you remember several years back, when Antz and A Bug's Life came out within months of each other? And do you remember thinking to yourself, "Christ, how many computer-animated movies about talking ants does one civilized planet really need?"

The answer, apparently, is "at least three."

What makes this version different, I guess, is that it features humans. A kid, the ant bully of the title -- maybe, I'm not sure -- is mean to the ant colony, so they shrink him down to ant size -- I, uh, I don't know how exactly the ants possess this kind of technology to begin with, or why they don't just use it to conquer the planet, but, well, it's whimsical, so I guess we'll have to go along with it -- and the kid eventually learns a valuable lesson about the fact that exterminators are paid to eliminate pests from places humans regularly frequent. Which, you know, is exactly what the kid was doing for free. Oh, and maybe it's the exterminator who's the titular Ant Bully and a villain to be reviled because he's, you know, just doing his job and dutifully filling out his niche in society and all. Much as, say, ants are wont to do.

This movie is touted as being produced by Tom Hanks and featuring the voice "talents" of Julia Roberts, Nicolas Cage, and Meryl Streep. Ignoring the fact that I despise (with the notable exception of Hanks in his strictly comic/character roles) each of these inexplicably popular, self-proclaimed members of Hollywood royalty, whatever happened to the dependable, faceless, unsung voice actors that used to breathe life into these projects? When did cartoons become a breeding ground for listless, leading man/lady A-Listers looking to attach their instantly recognizable names and just as forgettable vocal talents to a glorified straight-to-video kids' flick?

These are rhetorical questions, of course. I imagine money and ego are the likely answers, as they are to every question ever asked in the state of California. When is that Anus of the Union gonna go ahead and drop off into the ocean already?

Er, hopefully some time after my beloved little brothers move to Oregon, naturally. Heh, heh. Uh, hi, John and Tom.

> Why it may not be a complete bust: If this movie has anything to offer over its much, much, much earlier predecessors, it will no doubt be that the ants will have six legs as opposed to the entomologically-inaccurate four they were allotted in A Bug's Life. Apparently, basic insect anatomy, although common knowledge to third-graders, is beyond the grasp of your average computer animator. And unlike Antz, this movie won't misspell the word "ants" in the title.


> The plot as far as I can tell from the trailers: A tough, extremely white gang member works as a janitor in a dance school and also enjoys dancing like the Queen of the May when with his homeboys. Somehow, this proclivity fails to get his ass pounded on a regular basis (at least, not in a figurative way). He meets a hot chick who also dances and they decide to prove to the world that straight men can love ballet without fearing for their heterosexual status. Scores of audience members remain unconvinced.

> Why it will suck: Okay, okay, I got the obligatory, unoriginal, "any guy who likes dancing is a homo" dig out of the way, so I can get on to the bulk of this unfair disparaging. And if you're a man who gets a kick out of ballet and still wants to steadfastly maintain his heterosexuality, fine, cool, whatever. But what remains one of the key roadblocks impeding my appreciation of this kind of film is the simple fact that ballet ranks right down there with interpretative dance, poetry, abstract art, avant garde theatre, and protest songs as the most dispensable and worthless forms of art in the known universe.

BALLERINA WHO'S SURFING THE NET FOR SOME ODD REASON: I don't believe you truly understand the amount of training, talent, and effort that goes into being a ballet dancer.

Agreed. But there is also nothing on the books that says I have to care. I assume it also takes a great deal of training, talent, and effort to create homemade bombs and send them through the U.S. Postal Service, but I'm not about to send Ted Kaczynski a bouquet of roses.

BALLERINA WHO'S SURFING THE NET FOR SOME ODD REASON: Comparing the high, timeless art of ballet to random domestic terrorism and postal fraud is low and despicable. Even for you.

*shrugs* Whatever. I'm still not sitting through Swan Lake, princess.

The other key reason I hate these films is the fact that this "plot" has been recycled so many times it has its own plastic bin next to my garbage can. Dirty Dancing, Save the Last Dance, The Cutting Edge, Good Will Hunting (okay, that's a bit of a stretch, but the trailers did bring it to mind. Which figures, because I fucking hated that movie), and countless others involving "chasing your dreams" and "believing in yourself" and "wasting your parents' hard-earned money on a liberal arts degree."

Oh, and in the preview I've seen -- ad nauseam -- the lead chick says something like "So you think you can dance? Catch me." And guess what? He catches her.

Okay, first off, the chick must weigh all of 86 pounds sopping weight. I would hope any able-bodied young gangbanger could catch her frail ass without throwing out his back. And secondly... sweetheart, you asked the bald son of a bitch if he could dance. Then you said, "catch me." I'm sorry, but the proper follow-up command would have been "dance with me." If you wanted to evaluate his ability to grab and contain random flying objects, then tell him.

I mean, Christ, baseball scouts don't ask potential ballplayers, "So you think you can catch? Dance with me."

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

> Why it may not be a complete bust: Mushy-headed flicks like this one are always aimed squarely at the teen set, the only group of people on this planet that are as hard-to-please as they are easy-to-please. And since all teens are horny, superficial, single-minded biological ticking timebombs, this movie will undoubtedly have a large ratio of fit, sexy, shapely, writhing, feisty sex kittens dry humping their dance partners left and right across the screen, all in the beautiful rhapsody that is thinly-veiled bipedal intercourse.


> The plot as far as I can tell from the trailers: A strikingly ugly lady gets kicked out of Fairy Tale Land for the unforgivable crime of being ugly and is forced to find an apartment with pool access. For some reason, this upsets Paul Giamatti and a wolf, both of whom somehow manage to be less hideous than the lady in question.

> Why it will suck: Apparently, somebody in Hollywood forgot to send out the memo informing writer-director M. Near-Dusk Shamalamadingdong that his movies are pretentious, incomprehensible embarrassments, not unlike the man himself. This is a shame, as it would save whatever film company is currently financing his patented style of drek millions upon millions of dollars; money that would be better spent on a buddy movie about a tired cop played by Tommy Lee Jones protecting Jenny McCarthy and Carmen Electra, two dizzy but lovable hairdressers who have recently witnessed a mob hit.

I would like to think that I'm not the only person in America who is continually underwhelmed by MNS's steady stream of cinematic misfires.

GUNG-HO IDIOT: But -- ! But -- ! But what about The Sixth Sense? That was brilliant! I mean, it was -- it was just -- I mean, he was dead all along! We all thought he was alive, but he wasn't! Brilliant!

Yeah? What else do you remember about the movie?

GUNG-HO IDIOT: Uhhh.... ermmm... there was this kid... who saw... dead people?


*long pause*

GUNG-HO IDIOT: But he was dead!

You know what? How did the hordes of clueless theatregoers get suckered into that "surprise" ending in the first place? When a friend of mine started describing the movie in detail to me, I guessed the gimmick halfway through his recital.

GUNG-HO IDIOT: Oh, yeah, right. I bet he gave you a huge hint.

Yes. Yes, he did. Would you like to know what this "huge hint" was? It was this: "Bruce Willis gets blasted in the stomach at point blank range by a crazy guy wielding a shotgun."

People, people, listen to me. I may profess to be an expert on many -- okay, all -- subjects, but I confess that this is generally a satirical ruse of mine played for laughs. Regarding the validity of the following piece of information, however, I think the majority of experts in both the medical and firearm fields will be happy to back me up:

Man + Shotgun blast to stomach cavity from two feet away = Dead Man

This probably sounds much more complicated than it really is, but trust me, the formula is generally fool-proof. Oh, and if common sense wasn't enough to convince you Bruce Willis was killed by that shot, how about the fact that it's never referenced again and he doesn't even appear to suffer any residual damage from the attack?

Also, I hate Haley Joel Osment.

Still not convinced of MNS's inborn suckocity? Well, aside from his movie about boring ghosts, there's his movie about boring superheroes, and his movie about boring aliens, and his movie about boring....... um, villagers... Look, if you don't believe me, throw yourself a little MNS movie marathon party. And be sure to buy yourself a sturdy length of rope ahead of time as it will come in handy when you feel the overwhelming desire to hang yourself from the ceiling fan after the thirty-fourth kitchen scene in Unbreakable.

Anyway, who the fuck greenlit this film about fairy tale characters invading a second-rate apartment complex to begin with? I will unashamedly admit that I was so intrigued by the mind-boggling idiocy of the commercials (apparently the Most Frightening Thing Ever is an oversize coyote with mange) that I checked out its entry at www.themoviespoiler.com to see if I could make any sense out of this sack of feces-on-celluloid. And guess what?

The complete film synopsis makes even less sense than the goddamned commercials.

Hell, the poor guy who wrote up the spoiler entry seemed genuinely confused, and he just saw the fucking thing!

And who the hell decided that Bryce Dallas Howard (awful name, by the way) would be best utilized in movies as a beautiful, bewitching ingenue? I mean, if she wants to act, fine, apparently she's not half-bad. But ye gods, people, ugly is ugly. And what else do you expect of the offspring of Richie Cunningham? Poor girl. Judging by thge physical monstrosities that are her father and uncle (the amusing Clint Howard), Time will not be gentle with her already gorgonesque features.

And finally, why is MNS giving himself larger and larger roles in each successive film? The following is an incomplete list of inanimate objects that could deliver more compelling performances than the Egotron 2000:

-- driftwood
-- a can of paint
-- a smaller can of paint
-- a box (contents: anything)
-- the wall to your immediate left
-- any other wall in the room you are currently occupying
-- Russell Crowe

> Why it may not be a complete bust: Evidently, a critic gets brutally massacred. This fact alone should guarantee it an Oscar nod.

So there you have it. Now, it falls to you, my loyal constituents, to help improve the quality of Hollywood films by refusing to go see Hollywood films.

SMARTASS CYNICKITE: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Nice try, slick, but that was only three movie "reviews." You owe us two more, you shiftless son of a --

*sounds of intense struggling, a sudden gasp, gurgling as Smartass Cynickite slowly chokes to death on his own blood*

Now, then, anyone else?

*sound of crickets, crunching sound, sound of no crickets*


In closing, I actually have a great idea for a cartoon about two ants trying to win a dance competition when something spooky happens as a twist ending that makes even less sense than the movie's already stupid premise. It is currently locked in a vicious bidding war.

FINAL SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE: Well, it's finally been revealed. The producers of the current Batman film franchise have finally signed an actor to star as the legendary Crown Prince of Crime, The Joker, in their next installment. And the name of this long-awaited lucky SOB is.........




As the Joker.




Please move immediately to your right as my projectile vomit tends to cut a wide swath.

For those of you blissfully ignorant people who have no idea who the hell Heath Ledger is, he's an Australian heartthrob with the hair of a poodle and the beady-eyed squint of your forever-brooding standard leading man. He starred in A Knight's Tale and Brokeback Mountain and the abominable The Brothers Grimm, for which he still remains on the F.B.I.'s Most Wanted List for the crime of Boring the Ever-Loving Shit Out of T.C.I. in the First Degree.

Unbe-fucking-lievable. The Joker, people. I mean, it's the fucking Joker. The king of all villains. The jewel in the crown of any self-respecting character actor's comic book movie career. An ideal role tailor-made for, say, the mega-talented Steve Buscemis and James Woodseseses of this world, but no. LaLa-Land's Powers That Be Dipshits have decreed that, once again, a perfectly good character part must go to a romantic lead so they can sell more tickets to the googly-eyed girl crowd. Christ, they already have that mobile lump of tedium Christian Bale playing Batman; at least let those of us who like to stay awake during movies enjoy the villains.

And no, alien-faced "dreamboat" Cillian Murphy as the Scarecrow definitely does not count.

God, just imagine if, say, the creator of the Star Wars series had decided to cast a wooden, personality-free pretty boy as uber-villain Darth Vader. Wouldn't that suck?

Oh, wait. He did. And it did. George Lucas, I hope you spend an eternity in a very bad place that plays the three prequels you shat out in a continuous loop.

Christ. Heath Ledger.

As The Joker.

I wish Hollywood was a person so I could punch it repeatedly in its miniscule nutsack.

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Blogger hucklebuck said...

I think the title of greatest villain ever is a tie between Mr. Anderson from Beavis and Butthead and the old guy from Frosty the Snowman II (the guy who wanted to melt all the snow and who's voice was supplied by Bill Murray's brother).

But hey, this is just an idiot talking so.....

1:09 PM  
Blogger Chuckles O'Plenty said...

Holy crapdroppings, did you pick some obscure baddies. I can hear Brian Doyle-Murray's raspy rantings as I write this.

For my money, the title of Best Villain Ever is a two-way tie between Hades, as voiced by the unbeatable James Woods, from Disney's otherwise dispensable 'Hercules' and that awesome alien slug, Jabba the Hutt, from the days when George Lucas wasn't a completely incompetent turd.

The Lord of the Dead and the poster child for the benefits of capitalism: it would be cruel to choose between them.

3:11 PM  
Blogger Dakota said...

Why exactly did you switch over from that picture of yourself in which you looked hot to the current one, in which you look (and please do believe me when I say that this is coming from a very well-informed source) so damn gay?

5:42 AM  
Blogger Chuckles O'Plenty said...

Dammit. You know, I was thinking I looked a little ... friendly. It's my new theatre headshot, and judging by the sexual preferences of most theatrical decision-makers, your comments on this picture should assure me plenty of work.

No double entendres intended by "plenty of work."

But now you've gone and gotten me self-conscious about it, so I have to go and change it to a zebrafish or something.

You prick.

1:13 PM  
Blogger Dakota said...

Don't be self-conscious. Just put on that skirt of yours and let the flouncing begin.

Should it be time for you to exit the world of the female, you've got a standing invitation to come to Pakistan and let the good times roll.

2:14 AM  
Blogger Chuckles O'Plenty said...

Skirt? I thought homosexuals and cross-dressers weren't necessarily synonymous. Or so Eddie Izzard would have me believe...

The Jessica Albas and Biels of the world would never forgive me if I thought to leave "the world of the female." Especially after I spent so much time trying to enter them.

And never supplement an offer to change lifestyles with an offer to visit Pakistan. After all, I don't suggest that Portia de Rossi switch back and visit me in glorious backwoods Wisconsin.

7:48 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I agree one of the baddest villians of all time was James Woods as Hades. One of my all time favorites was fom an old British Sci-fi show called Doctor Who and had the coolest bad guy known as The Master. This guy had no moral compass of any kind whatsoever.

And your photo looks just fine.

Sgt Mellors

11:35 AM  
Blogger Chuckles O'Plenty said...

Well, well, Sgt. M. Agreeing with me on one of the best villains *and* defending my photo? Seems to me like somebody's angling for Cynickite of the Moooonth...

Now all that remains is the colossal bribe to the presiding official.

8:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey, lucrative employment, even if limited to playing the seasonal side-kicks of a fictional, fat, child-lover dressed in a velour suit that smells like sweat and pee, is better than plotting to take all people over 5' 11" out at the knee-caps. Leave those who are vertically challenged out of your negative and oh-so-angry rants. We know where you live...and don't think your knee-caps aren't vulnerable.


3:33 AM  

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