October 19, 2006
I think it’s pretty safe to say that Hollywood is out of ideas. It's true. And even though Theater attendance is obviously down, there are still imbeciles who go out and continue to buy tickets to garbage, perpetuating certain moronic elements of this industry so the studios will keep churning out mindless A.D.D. garbage featuring Yakuza's drag racing, remakes of remakes, Epic Super-Hero Date Movies, and whatever bullshit faggoty-feminized funboy-fest movie teenaged girls force Daddy to pay for, thus perpetuating the fallacy that they and their vapidly cavernous opinions even matter in society. I hate all of these people. Even though, I'm one of them. What? Little Man had so much promise! He's like a baby, you see,-- only with full-sized adult genitals! It's HILARIOUS~!
But, seriously, the fact that there’s actually a movie out there right now depicting one of history’s most deplorable characters, Marie Antoinette, as a misunderstood party girl--and the fact that the omnipresent pubescent rat-mustachioed Orlando Bloom EVEN CONTINUES TO EXIST in this industry-- is proof positive that if Korea is really thinking of launching nuclear missiles like the government says, they might as well target them at Hollywood just to do us one huge favor. Maybe then, someone will crawl out of the radioactive debris, collect whatever limbs they have left, and make a movie that doesn’t make me want to take the straw from my overpriced huge movie cola and drive it straight into my eyes just to end the fucking misery.
Anyway, the easiest money in Hollywood in the last decade (or longer) seems to be in the adaptation of comics/ cartoons/ video games. And therein is where I come in. Through your bedroom window. Whilst you slumber. (I raped you).
Recently, I learned that they were making a live-action version of Transformers-- easily my favorite childhood cartoon/toy line. I was very happy at this news at first, because much like most fans, deep down I want to see my favorite character(s) adapted into full size real-life likenesses-- and not because I need new storylines when I play with my toys because I'm a desperately pathetic man-child with no hope of procreating. Not even. However, I ultimately had reservations. For whatever reason, often times, Hollywood directors and screenwriters choose not to follow the canon of the story they’re adapting, and often change many of the most important aspects for no real reason other than because they think they can tell a better story, or somehow, make it more relatable and relevant to an audience that just won't ever appreciate the nuances of GIANT FUCKING ROBOTS THAT CAN TRANSFORM BLOWING SHIT UP. I mean, really. No one wants to see He-Man and his fucking furry loin-cloth trying to awkwardly fit in in New York. And I don't want to see Optimus Prime take a backseat to marines trying to get home to see their first born children. Jesus. It's not rocket science. It's real science! The kind of science where a 8000 pound robot can turn into a cassette player and be picked up by humans, just because.
But hey, I will give it a chance as I have all movies of its ilk. Even if Michael Bay is attached to the film (instead of say a flaming cross like I'd wish); and even if this image of Megatron (the lead villain in the series) is the end result. So what if he was an asshole for a mouth, I decided -- whilst crying on the inside. I mean, Unicron was one giant vagina that devoured everything in its path (much like an ex of mine), right? So maybe he's in good company as far as gaping assholes for mouths go. I'm an optimist. And a Megatronist. Maybe, once I see it in glorious motion, I won't be as disgusted and forget all about my disdain. (Just like I tell the ladies about my penis). Time will tell. And not be kind to me.
With that all said, all this talk of the live action Transformers and the potential pratfalls got me thinking of all the other adaptations that I have watched; and the many, MANY that I have been tortured by. And thus, I formulated my official Top (Bottom?) 10 offenders. And I’ll be truthful, I am in no way proclaiming that *my* choices are inequitably right-- even if they actually are and I'm just sparing your feelings-- but am instead just listing the films (as previously mentioned, adapted from comic books, cartoons or video games) that I personally would sooner perform hara-kari on myself with my obscenely gigantic universal remote, than ever try and watch again unless it features nudity.
As for the criteria, mine is simple. It HAD to be a movie that had a significant budget and/or high expectations by the fans and releasing studios only to then completely disappoint. After all, it’d be pretty easy to put the 1991 release of Captain America on this list-- but let’s be honest, the contents of your desk probably cost more money than that giant abomination. Ah. If only there was a "Super Serum" to help you die with dignity. If only.
Onto the list!
10. DAREDEVIL. (2003) Starring Ben Affleck.
First off, I understand the Director’s cut is significantly better, but I am going on the theatrical version here, so bear with me. And hey, I’m not going to lie, Daredevil was never one of my favorite characters in Marvel, but still I was intrigued originally to see how they would go about telling the story of a blind man who becomes an ass-kicking super hero. Because, let’s face it, unless they’re hiding it pretty well, most blind people just stumble around or at the most play the piano in enthusiastic fashion. They don’t kick the fuck out of people with a telescopic walking stick or suddenly have the innate ability to do full gainers from roof-tops. Because if they could, why, they’d just take your money, rather than begging for it on a subway or in front of a liquor store. Just saying.
Anyway, it is at least somewhat loyal to the character's origins, as Matt Murdoch (DD’s alter-ego) is blinded as a child by the great old comic standby: RADIOACTIVE WASTE! Yes sir. I don’t know about you, but they sure seem to transport this shit a lot in the comic book world. Only luckily, in comic-land, it bestows you with "powers" and "abilities", instead of poisoning you and completely obliterating you from the inside out with ravenous cancer. So hey, if you ever see a truck with this symbol, don’t be afraid! Hell, take a bath in it! You’ll become superhuman, and definitely won’t die horribly from ravenous cancer whilst bleeding from every orifice. Trust me.
With that said, after explaining how and when Murdoch went blind, they don’t bother to EVER EXPLAIN HOW A STRUGGLING LAWYER WHO ONLY WORKS PRO-BONO CAN AFFORD TENS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF BLIND-ASS-KICKING EQUIPMENT. In addition to just how he became so adept at fighting and acrobatics. I mean, you don’t see Stevie Wonder doing full twirling cannonballs from the rafters of churches, do you? A little explanation would be nice.
Other than the complete lack of realistically explaining DD’s back-story, my only other issue is Michael Clarke Duncan as Kingpin. And it’s not that Duncan is not up to the task-- but instead because that I just don’t want to see the loveable John Coffey ordering hits on people. Although, a scene with him gently cradling Bullseye's head, crying profusely may have made it better. Yesa Bossa.
9. THE PUNISHER. (1989) Starring Dolph Lundgren.
I for one really liked the 2004 version, but the less that is said about this one, the better. Dolph Lundrgren and 2 tins of shoe polish stars as former All-American cop (at least that's what he is in this film) Frank Castle. Wait. Dolph Lundgren? All American? Jesus. I always get a kick out of movies where obvious Europeans have extremely white-bread anglicized names. (Look no further than the bulk of Arnold Schwarzenegger's films for this phenomenon. Jack Slater? With a fucking Austrian accent? Surrrrre).
Anyway, as you’d expect, Castle’s family is savagely murdered, and he goes bat-shit insane, and turns to vigilantism. He also starts living in the sewers, because, apparently, a cop’s salary doesn’t pay you enough to rent a hotel room to fucking house your vigilante base of operations. And for the record, the iconic skull doesn’t even appear in this film. I guess producers felt it wasn’t very realistic. You know, unlike a 6’5” Swedish dude who can barely speak English playing a Mid-western American. But hey, at least The Punisher more than lives up to his name here. Too bad it’s the audience he’s doing it to.
8. STEEL. (1997) Starring Shaquille O'Neal.
Do I even need to go into why this is on my list?
This cinematic masterpiece features Shaq (dear lord) as “Steel”, a character developed for DC during the Death of Superman storyline. However, bar Shaq’s real life tattoo, this film has nothing to do with the Man of Steel. In this version, Shaq is... a weapons designer? Holy shit. I’ll let that sink in for a minute.
Ok, then. I don’t think I’m being cruel when I say that I can’t imagine Shaq designing anything. Seriously, I just can’t picture a 7 foot 300 pound clumsy motherfucker exactly having the "light touch" needed to develop complex machinery. Anyway, Shaq eventually sees gang members using his weapons, and decides to take a stand. So, he builds himself a suit of armor to gain an edge? Huh. Some would think a hulking, towering, muscle-bound black guy would be intimidating enough. But I guess I was wrong. Soon 'Steel' is born, and to say it’s comical is an understatement. Poor Steel looks like Robo Cop’s severely brain damaged younger brother with a mouth full of marbles. Anyway, the whole thing kind of falls apart from there (imagine that). But not before making fun of O’Neal’s real-life issues with free throws!!!! Man, I hate when movies do this. It seems like every movie starring an athlete ends up somehow incorporating a sports trademark into the actual film, regardless of out of place and ridiculous it is. Hell, they even had the fucking Scorpion King giving Rock-Bottoms in ancient Egypt for Christ sakes. So of course Shaq saves the day when he finally sinks a basket (so to speak).
Oh ya, for the record, the whole thing bombed. Like Hiroshima levels. It’s funny when people find more credibility in you as giant rapping Genie than an action star. Poor Shaq.
7. Tie: DOUBLE DRAGON (1994) Starring Scott Wolf from Party of Five; and STREET FIGHTER (1994). Starring Jean-Claude Van Damme.
Dear God in heaven. Most movies adapted from video games have two things in common. 1) They almost always STINK and 2) they always completely deviate from the storyline. These two are no exception.
Double Dragon stars Scott Wolf, who took time out from his busy schedule of gently waiting for Jennifer Love Hewitt to be “ready” for intercourse (as was prevalent in all teenage shows of the 90’s) and holding his struggling family together on Party of Five, to playing one of the Lee brothers here. The whole thing is built around the somewhat estranged brothers each having a half of a magical medallion, and wait for it... HAVING TO PUT THEIR DIFFERENCES ASIDE AND WORK TOGETHER TO MAKE THE MAGIC WORK AND DEFEAT THE FORCES OF EVIL! It’s an exciting plot that’s only been used a thousand times before. Throw in the fact that the special effects used here make The Power Rangers look like fucking Star Wars in comparison, and you can understand my disdain. Even T-2 himself, Robert Patrick, and Alyssa Milano in the tightest blue t-shirt in creation couldn't save this abortion. Hell, they even fucked up ABOBO, something that cannot be fucked up. I mean, holy shit, how hard is it to find a giant muscular bald dude with an unnaturally huge head and a mustache? Shave off the skullet, and The Hulkster may have fit the bill. Oh well. All I know is, even the mystical magic of the re-combined Double Dragon medallion, a power that can apparently cause the destruction of all forces and manners of evil, still couldn’t somehow utilize the tiniest shred of KUNG-FU BLACK MAGIC to cause me to somehow, someway, even remotely give a fuck. I still rubbed one out to Milano, though. And boy did the usher get pissed.
Now for Street Fighter. While Mortal Kombat (the original) wasn’t exactly Citizen Kane-- Citizen Kane with giant anthropoid Kung-Fu human dragons-- or even CITIZENS ON PATROL, at least it didn’t deviate that far from the video game canon. You know, unlike this cinematic equivalent of being hot-boxed in a truck-stop bathroom. First of all, Ryu (the main character from the game) is pushed aside for Guile, played by “thespian extraordinaire” Jean-Claude Van Damme-- whose acting is so wooden here, he should be for sale in an Amish furniture store. A store filled with Belgians who can't act! or something! At least they could have stayed true to form and given Jean Claude the impossibly huge yellow high-top. Which, at least, would give him a real advantage in combat. While his foes are laughing at his ridiculous head, it can give him just that much more time to deliver a standing spin-kick while they just stand there and don't even attempt to block for 45 seconds. You know-- like in EVERY FUCKING VAN DAMME MOVIE EVER.
Anyway, instead of the tournament setting, the “good guys” here set off on a mission to stop M. Bison’s tyranny. (Bison is played by the talented Raul Julia, who died literally after making this movie. And no, it wasn’t suicide. Although I can’t say I’d have blamed him here).
The whole thing of course ends up with yet another phony-assed Van Damme martial arts showdown. God bless Jean-Claude. Long before UFC completely exposed Karate, Van Damme was here to somehow convince us that possessing the ability to do the splits on two stumps makes you an unbeatable martial-artist. “Oh no! He’s hovering his balls in midair, precariously balanced on two chairs! We should run away! Or not even attempt to block his impending bullet-time wheel kicks!"
6. SHEENA. (1984) Starring Tanya Roberts (Charlie’s Angels, Donna’s mom on That 70’s Show).
Hey, I know it’s not adapted from a really famous comic, but it’s on my list for stealing my life for two hours. Hell, even the copious amounts of nudity were shameless. So much so that I could barely repeatedly masturbate to it.
Anyway, this movie HAS to be seen to be believed. Starring Tanya Roberts, fresh off a similar role in BEASTMASTER (a film where the namesake character has a symbiotic link to animals after being given birth to by a cow. Seriously. However they never do explain if in fact this means his old man fucked a cow. Not that I want to know...) and is now portraying Sheena, the young daughter of a white couple on Safari in Africa, who die, and leave her to be raised by the locals-- most notably an African woman named Shaman. Yes, Shaman. In AFRICA. I think it’s fairly safe to assume that the writers here never took History or Geography. Next thing you know, they’ll write a movie about an Indian chief named Moliqua.
Fast forward twenty years, and Sheena is now suddenly able to ride zebras in slow motion bareback and of course possess the ability to understand and communicate with animals; some of which are even miles away. This is of course a trait that all Africans possess. Or not. I don't know. All I do know is, get a few of these fucking psychic Kenyan's to lull a few animals into a false sense of security, and we can finally END STARVATION in Africa for good!. Clearly, World Vision really needs to move forward with this plan, rather than unpacking countless boxes of Kraft dinner from crates for the starving locals. I'm telling you.
So, with that said, to make a (painfully) long story short, a reporter played by Ted Wass, (the father on Blossom, years before she would set down the path to frumpy lesbianism) shows up, and this strange white skinned man baffles Sheena. At one point, she notices his chest hair and is marveled by it. Despite the fact that her shimmering smooth body didn’t exactly get that way without a little help from Mr. razor (discounting the fact Lady Bics are kind of hard to come by in the middle of the fucking Serengeti). The whole climax as you’d imagine, involves Sheena looking to a series of animals to help stop the bad guys, while Ted Wass never questions just how the fuck that’s possible, or better yet, how & when a reputable plastic surgeon made his way to the middle of Buttfuck Africa to give Sheena her obvious breast implants.
5. SUPER MARIO BROS. (1993) Starring Bob Hoskins.
Long before Bob Hoskins was selling an emotionally broken Jet Li into human cock fighting, he was Mario Mario, one of two plumbing brothers (along with John Leguizamo as Luigi) who get sucked into a parallel world, where humans are descended from lizards instead of primates, laws of nature be damned.
Anyway, as one would expect, adapting a story of two obese Italian plumbers who stomp on turtles and mushrooms with eyes would be difficult as far as believability is concerned, but still, a straight adaptation would have ended up being more credible than what we got. Thank God they’re plumbers, that’s all I can say. At least they’re used to be surrounded by unending shit. And the shame is, it really wasn’t even about Mario, the most iconic and celebrated character in Nintendo history. Instead, it’s fucking Luigi who gets the girl here. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that no one gives a fuck about Luigi (bar in Super Mario 2 the game, where he was arguable the best character, game-play wise). In fact, if you were ever Luigi in the game, it was likely only because your asshole brother chose Mario first on two player mode. But still, here’s Luigi, getting all the glory, pussy and more. Maybe the poor hapless bastard has it coming after playing second banana to Mario for 25 years, but still. To me, Luigi ranks up high on the list of brothers who only exist because of their more famous siblings, sandwiched somewhere between Frank Stallone and Daniel Baldwin.
Plot wise, the movie wasn't that much better. The whole thing was built on Koopa (played by a very human Dennis Hopper, who probably just thought he was a giant lizard ) using a weapon that causes people to de-evolve to a brainless and primitive state. No word on whether he tested it first on the majority of posters on most message boards across this country. Although, it would explain a few things.
The Mario's of course end up saving the day, and Mario gets to hook up with a morbidly obese Puerto Rican woman while the aforementioned Luigi gets the hotty, Daisy. Poor Mario. If there was ever a time to hear that ‘your princess was in another castle’, this was definitely it. All of a sudden that non-moving lava is looking pretty fucking good.
SUPERMAN 4: The Quest for
the end of the franchise Peace.
(1987) Starring Christopher Reeve.
Poor Supes. This was actually the movie that single-handedly destroyed the franchise for almost 20 years and would be Reeve’s last appearance as the Man of Steel (and not just because he kept getting his cape caught in his chair). And here’s the reason why: Reeve would apparently only do it if he himself got to write the storyline. And what's that storyline, you ask? Ridding the world of those darn nukes, of course! Yes sir. Superman is now an environmental crusader~! And sure, one could say “so what if someone launches Nukes? Superman could easily catch them, or worst case scenario, prevent tragedy by once again turning back time by reversing the rotation of the Earth!”... which as we all know, always turns back time, and doesn’t suck everyone in the world up into a violent vortex and fling them simultaneously into orbit. Wait, what were we talking about? Oh ya. Superman disposing of Nuclear weapons into the deep reaches of space. Too bad he didn’t launch this script into the dark void as well. Could have saved us some grief.
Anyway, out of all this, Lex Luthor creates his own rival for Superman by harnessing "the power of the sun". He then names the villain "Nuclear Man". Huh. For a super genius, he sure doesn’t seem to know fuck all about what "Nuclear" actually means. Oh well. "Sun Man" doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, I guess.
From there, things backfire, Superman has to thwart Nuclear Man before he destroys the world, deposit Luthor back into Prison, and orchestrate his next earth friendly agenda: to responsibly recycle glass bottles and newspapers! Stay tuned for this and more in Superman 5: The Quest for Composting! "They're a great people, Kal-El. If they choose to be. They just lack the light to show them how to properly separate their plastics from their papers".
3. MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE. (1987) Starring Dolph Lundgren.
Good Ol’ Ivan Drago makes the list twice. But this time it wasn’t entirely his fault. I doubt the producers here had EVER even watched He-Man. But hey, as much as I loved the old MOTU cartoon, I’ll even admit it had a few flaws. I mean, Prince Adam wasn’t exactly the best incognito costume ever. He was basically the same muscle bound asshole with a pudding basin haircut, only he wore a pink vest with a white undershirt whilst "incognito". And yes, no one recognized him. Sadly this doesn’t seem to work in real life. Just the other day I put on a *completely different* shirt and pair of pants, and strangely people still recognized me! I must be doing it wrong. Maybe if I had a sword. Or a Prince Valium haircut. Maybe.
All kidding aside, this movie just didn’t even remotely resemble He-Man in any shape or form. Also, it suffered from my two least favorite adaptation pitfalls: a) It introduces characters out of thin air that never existed in the base material; and b) it takes place in the REAL world. And by "Real World", I mean , our world, and not the MTV series. Although, that would have been much better if only for the interaction of He-Man and Skeletor arguing pool-side in Bermuda shorts.
Anyway, this plot device, bringing fantasy characters into our world, is something SO many producers do. They feel as if we movie-goers just won’t relate to a fantasy world without bringing real world douche-bags into it. For the record, these ‘real world’ people in question include a very young pre-Friends Courtney Cox. If only Chandler was in this, too. It might have made it somewhat more bearable if only to hear him utter to He-Man “Could your mullet BE anymore ridiculous?”
The story itself sees He-Man and the gang transported to Earth, along with Skeletor and his minions Beast Man and Evil Lyn-- the latter of which obviously never had a choice but to go into the villain racket with a name like that. They then all fight over a device that opens inter-dimensional portals through combinations of music. Dear God. Maybe they should have just had fucking Man-at-Arms grab an Accordion and hope for the best. He already had the fucking polka mustache for it.
And if that’s all not bad enough, there’s really not anything all that captivating about He-Man himself. His sword possesses no magic, he’s not wearing his trademark giant furry diaper, and Battle Cat (Eternia’s only openly homosexual utility vehicle) is NOWHERE to be seen. What a waste. Even Skeletor was a let down. And sadly, the poor guy never really seemed to recover after this one. (see here).
2. BATMAN & ROBIN (1997) Starring George Clooney & Chris O’Donnell.
In just two movies, Joel Schumacher managed to accomplish what Joker, The Penguin and the Riddler could not: He completely murdered Batman. And hey, as much as I like rubber bat-suit nipples and extreme close ups of Batman’s cock in his rubber codpiece while “suiting up”, I just can’t buy his “version” of the Caped Crusader no matter how many times I try. I think I even remember the exact moment I lost faith in his direction. It was in the preceding Batman Forever, where BATMAN SHOWS UP TO A FUCKING COCKTAIL PARTY. Call me crazy, but Batman tends to lose a wee bit of his intimidation edge when you know he’s just some asshole in a suit, drinking Brandy Alexander's with a bunch of rich douche-bags. "Tell us, Bats, what's your take on this morning's NASDAQ? Pork-bellies or Gold?".
With that said, this was beyond bad, with more characters haphazardly stuffed into the movie than a fucking circus clown-car. From Ah-nuld as Mr. Freeze to Uma Thurman as Poison Ivy, they were all here, and I couldn’t give a shit. Hell, even Batgirl showed up (as played by Alicia Silverstone). And hey, if an untrained diminutive valley girl can kick your ass, I think it’s time to find a new profession, because “arch criminal” just ain’t for you. And of course, in truly sappy fashion, Batman, Robin & Batgirl all join forces in the end, and as a united FAMILY stop the bad guys. They then go onto to form a traveling family folk band. Ok, maybe not. But maybe they should. They’ve already emasculated Batman enough already. Hey, there’s another looming shot of his balls! What gives!? Fucking Schumacher.
1. CATWOMAN. (2004) Starring Halle Berry’s tits.
Ah, Catwoman, the movie. Basically, it’s just your run of the mill “fashion designer gets murdered by her boss then strangely gains advanced martial arts ability and superhuman cat-like reflexes” story. What, you’ve never heard that one? Well there’s a reason. This Catwoman stinks. In fact, it’s so mind-bogglingly terrible that real cats would be compelled to bury it in the sand, if you know what I mean.
To me this is the prototype of a failed adaptation. Just who the hell was this aimed at? Comic book fans? I don’t think so. It strayed so far from the source material to draw any of them. Young girls? I’d think the abysmal bombing of Elektra and the 2nd Charlie’s Angels proves that action is not a genre teenage girls often care about. So if not them, then who? Halle Berry herself? Maybe. The fact the base canon for Catwoman was so altered makes me seriously wonder. The fact is, Catwoman was aimed at no one and the box office proved it. Basically, the entire marketing was based entirely around seeing Halle Berry in a tiny rubber suit. And for those of us who suffered through the intolerable Swordfish and John Travolta's disturbing hair-helmet, we already know there’s much better source material for Halle skin out there, and believe me, I’ve donated enough DNA to repopulate the Earth twenty times over after watching them. (I CREATED MY OWN CAT-SCRATCH POLE!)
The thing is, I’d probably accept (but never watch) this film had it been called anything but Catwoman. Because nothing was the same. Nothing. Murdered fashion designers don’t come back as Vigilantes. If they did, we’d be see Versace swinging from the roof tops right now in a fucking domino mask.
And therein lays my entire point for doing this list in the first place; if you’re going to adapt a movie, stick to the story. If you want to improve it, tell the story BETTER, don’t change it completely. The most successful adaptations, (Spiderman for example) don’t tend to stray too far from the source material. Hell, Peter Jackson didn’t input Rock music, or have Frodo go through a fucking time portal in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. He stuck to the material relatively closely and brought the whole sweeping saga to life. That’s ALL the fans ask for. But often the movie-makers NEVER listen. Next thing you know, they’ll remake “The Greatest Story Ever Told” and this time, they'll have the Savior transported to modern day New York City where he'll get into all sorts of "hilarious" fish-out-of-water (cloned X 500!) sight-gag hi-jinks like getting his robe caught in an escalator or being thrown out of a restaurant for wearing sandals. Jesus. (No pun intended).
Special mentions go to the following films that just missed the cut:
BARBWIRE: Sure Pamela Anderson has more plastic upstairs than the entire first line of He-Man toys, but hey, who couldn't get behind Pamela Anderson? Or more so, who hasn't? Her nether regions probably look like a disheveled sleeping bag by now.
THE HULK: Some people loved it. Some people hated it. I’m kind of indifferent to Ang Lee’s vision. But at least there was no part where the father and son Hulks stop in mid-leap to exchange some gravity defying mid-air karate.
JUDGE DREDD: Sylvester Stallone is Da LAWR. He's the Judge, Jury, and the Executioner. The last of which is a sentence you wish he'd carry out on you after watching this movie.
FLINTSTONES: I wasn’t the biggest Flintstones fan when I was a kid, mostly on the account that it seriously pissed me off with the NERVE those household pets had in locking Fred out of his own home, but who’s idea was it casting Rosie O’Donnell as Betty Rubble? I know dude's who had a thing for Betty, so this was disturbing on multiple levels not related to being a sick fuck who's attracted to cartoon characters. Man. I can’t imagine the casting session here. “You know what this movie needs to sell more tickets? An Overweight dumpy lesbian who alienates men. MAKE IT HAPPEN."
SCOOBY-DOO: Freddie Prinze Jr. in a fucking ascot dickie = MONEY. And by “money” I mean the complete opposite of that. In fact, I'm pretty sure they had to invent a bizarro currency just to calculate the money this shit-pile earned. Plus, come on. It’s been thirty years. The bad guy’s wearing a mask. Holy shit.
POPEYE: Spinach gives him strength. Copious amounts of alcohol likely gives him the courage to have sex with the broomstick with a praying mantis head that is Shelly Duvall as Olive Oil. It's no wonder his forearms are so fucking huge. Yours would be too if you masturbated as much as Popeye did to avoid getting the urge to put his junk inside Olive Oil. Dear God.
ALONE IN THE DARK: Uwe Boll needs to die in a fire. Seriously. Tara Reid as a brilliant Archeologist? Ya, I'll buy that. Bitch somehow botched a New Year's countdown, yet, she has the knowledge to remember every nuance of a long dead Indian civilization? Priorities, baby. Priorities.
DOOM: Mildly amusing if only for the Rock’s mid-movie heel turn. But what of the poor Marines? These guys are always so poorly represented in movies where there’s a non-human threat. Why do they even bother showing up? Man. They never fare well, despite initially being represented as Earth's best hope to eradicate the enemy. Yet, the untrained humans are always the dudes who actually kill the threat. But hey, keep bringing in those Marines! Maybe this'll be the time they're not systematically annihilated by an alien. Jesus. This shit is as bad as the people who keep showing up to the parties Angela Lansbury is attending on Murder she wrote; you know, despite the fact someone always dies there.
MORTAL KOMBAT ANNIHILATION: You’ll wish that Goro had won the first tournament and the earth was obliterated after watching this. Hell, this movie did what Shang Tsung could not: drain you of the fledgling remainder of your immortal soul.
TOMB RAIDER: Studios banked on movie goers paying to see Angelina Jolie in a black unitard. It worked. She looked for jewels. We fondled ours. It was a beautiful partnership of adventure, masturbation, Fake British accents, masturbation, mystic relics, and masturbation.
SUPERMAN 3: Richard Pryor makes Supes' life miserable. You read that right. Coming soon, Batman, featuring the combined comic hijinks of Bobcat Goldthwait and fucking Carrot Top. Carrot produces a pair of pants with a ball scoop sewn into the crotch. Alfred helps Batman come up with a serum that actual makes it funny.
BATMAN FOREVER: Two words: BAT NIPPLES. This movie was built entirely around Batman's acquiring of a sidekick and ward, Dick Grayson/Robin. In the comics, Batman would actually go on to take in several young men as his wards, which never seemed to disturb anybody. I mean, a revolving door of underage boys and an almost hermit-like rich guy living in a mansion filled with gadgets and toys? Hello? It's no wonder Robin was never allowed to wear pants. It all makes sense now. Michael Jackson was last seen purchasing a cape and cowl.
Ok, that's it. That's my list of can't hit prospects. In time, I have no doubt , that this list much like my waistline these days will increase in size. But until then, see you at the movies! (unless it's one directed by Uwe Boll. Did I mention he should die in a fire?).
Sean Carless is a man of many hats. And he wears those hats to cover an ever-increasing bald spot. Sean's various scribblings have been read at Live Audio Wrestling, 411 Mania, Honky Tonk Man.com, The Toronto Star.com, Wrestlecrap and Lethal Wrestling. He has also cured AIDS.
THE TWF "MENTAL WELLNESS TEST!"
With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).