The End Of All Things

Well, not quite the end of all things. Just the year. 2009. See ya in Hell, ya prick!

Actually, 2009 was a pretty decent year for myself. 2008, on the other hand... that year can go right ahead and fuck itself. I'm glad it's gone. This past year was okay by me.

And as a way of saying farewell to the year that was, I am going to present my list (Every tit with a keyboard posts a fucking list this time of year. The internet is infested with them. It's a sickness, really. Alas, I am no different.) of my favorite films of 2009.

Obviously, these will be films that I have personally seen in a theatre. I can't really comment on movies I haven't seen. I guess I could, but that seems kind of pompous. And I am a plain and honest man.

First, two Honorable Mentions:

Drag Me To Hell

Sam Raimi made another horror movie. And it was good.

No, fuck that. It was damn good. Funny, creepy, and gooey. With an ending that still haunts me.

Not bad for a PG-13 "Spook-A-Blast".

I saw this immediately after I saw "UP" at the end of May. I left the theatre with an odd, confused feeling.

The Hangover

I laughed. A lot. I didn't think Todd Philips had another good movie in him after "Old School". Remember "Starsky & Hutch"? I wish I could forget. Zach Galifianakis owns this movie.

My Ten Favorite Films Of 2009

10: UP

I'm a Pixar fan. I'm an Ed Asner fan. I'm a huge fan of balloons. Bright, shiny, floaty balloons. Heh, heh...

"UP" had everything: action, adventure,an old man dragging a floating house across a lost world atop a jungle plateau, an old man discovering his childhood hero is an ancient douchebag with an army of highly trained talking dogs living in a super awesome blimp... Nice.

9: A Serious Man

I saw this on Halloween. Oddly fitting, I pondered to myself walking out of the cinema. Darkly funny, and very depressing. This movie bounced around in my head for a long time after it had finished unspooling before my eyes.

Sometimes I blurt out "Sy Abelman?!" to myself when I am entertaining guests. They don't get it. But I laugh, dammit.

They also didn't get the ending to "No Country For Old Men". Fuck these idiots.

8: Where The Wild Things Are

How Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers turned such a short children's book into such a beautiful visual poem, I will never know. I still don't know what exactly to say about this one.

It made me cry. Fucking muppets made me cry.

7: District 9

I didn't know exactly what to expect walking into this one.

Produced by Peter-fucking-Jackson. Big deal. Directed by that guy who nearly made the "HALO" movie. I saw those "HALO" shorts he made online. Not impressed.

Then I saw his short film "Alive In Joburg". I was intrigued. I saw the trailer. I became... anticipatory?

Then I saw the film. Fucking brilliant.

Sharlto Copley's transformation, both literal and figurative, was great. And the "prawn" Christopher Johnson was as fully realized a character as I have seen in any other film. I completely bought this fully-digital creation.

That's never happened, before. Not Gollum, not King Kong, not Doctor Manhattan, not... *shudder* the N'avi.

Great flick.

6: Observe and Report

I loved Jody Hill's first film, "The Foot-Fist Way", with a passion. Then I saw "Observe and Report". Now "The Foot-Fist Way" seems so distant, so... quaint.

This film was not well-loved by most people who saw it when it opened last Spring. And those people are fools. Ronnie Barnhardt is funny, sure. But he's also more than a little crazy. And more than a little dangerous.

I remember the moment in the cinema when the audience I sat with turned on this film. Ronnie is confronted by crack dealer Danny McBride and his henchmen in a bad neighborhood. Ronnie falls to his knees, blubbering like a baby and begging for mercy.

The audience laughs. This is what they expect from Seth Rogen.

Then Ronnie whips out the beatin' stick and proceeds to destroy his enemies with ease. Not in a slap-sticky manner. In a brutal, painful manner.

And the audience shuts the fuck up. They don't laugh, anymore. The movie has surprised them, and they don't like it.

The rest of the film's hilarity unfolds before them, and barely a titter is heard. Meanwhile, I was laughing my ass off.

The climactic battle between Ronnie with his flashlight and a whole mess of cops set to Queen's classic "Battle Theme" from the 1980's delightful "Flash Gordon" soundtrack was a masterpiece. I was in awe, sitting in the front row, enthralled by what my eyes were seeing.

I love this movie.

5: The Fantastic Mr. Fox

I'm a big Wes Anderson fan. "Rushmore" is one of my favorite films, period. I love "The Life Aquatic", although I understand most people look at it with much more critical eyes.

So I was certainly excited to see his latest film, a stop-motion extravaganza, no less!

It did not disappoint. I don't have much to say, really. I loved it from beginning to end. The voice case was brilliant. The animation was endearing. I was smiling when I walked out of the theatre.

A wonderful birthday present.

4: The Hurt Locker

Kathryn Bigelow, where the fuck have you been? I love "Near Dark" and "Strange Days". I even enjoy "Point Break", mostly because of Gary Busey. "Utah! Get me two!!!" Hilarious.

Then you made "The Weight of Water". Ugghhh... Then along comes "K-19 The Widowmaker". Uuuggghhh...

Then... um... I'm drawing a blank. I know you directed an episode of "Karen Sisco", but that doesn't count. Nothing for seven years.

Then "The Hurt Locker" shows up. And I am happy.

Tense. Funny. Tense. Dramatic. Did I mention "Intense"? My fucking head nearly exploded during this movie.

Jeremy Renner is fucking awesome. I remember him from "National Lampoon's Senior Trip", the film where Kevin McDonald plays an insane trekkie trying to kill Renner's best friend because he's convinced the man is a klingon spy. "I shall put an end to your dirty Klingon ways!"

Yeah, I never expected this kind of performance from the lead douchebag in a latter-day "National Lampoon" movie.

Expectations = Exceeded.

3: Moon

David Bowie's son is some kind of genius. Zowie Bowie made a modern-day Sci Fi masterpiece.

Sam Rockwell is a fucking rock star in this movie. He won't be nominated for an Oscar, because this is an unfair world.

I actually liked Kevin Spacey in a movie, again. Never thought that would happen. Granted, he was just doing the voice of a robot in the film, but that's beside the point.

Gerty nearly made me cry at the end of the movie. The anti-HAL 9000.

I love the setting. I love the twist. I love the conclusion.

This movie is TITS.

2: Inglourious Basterds

Tarantino's masterpiece. I loved it in the theatre. I have watched the film on DVD five times, already. And I want to watch it again.

I can't think of any flaws in this movie.

Christoph Waltz will "Waltz Away" with the Best Supporting Oscar come February if there is any justice in this world.

Shit, I'm doing the Gene Shalit thing again.

The movie made me like Eli Roth, which I thought was impossible. That alone puts "Inglourious Basterds" on this list.

1: Crank 2 - High Voltage

That's right. Number One with a Bullet. I have never had this much fun just letting a movie happen to me, if that makes any sense.

Fuck the haters. This movie is brilliant.

"Beef... and Broccoli" still echoes in my head. And it will until the day I die.

I am deranged.

This Sounds Familiar...

Perhaps you've noticed that most of my amusing little anecdotes involve situations that occur during my frequent visits to the local cinema.

Or perhaps you don't, seeing as how nobody reads this blog. But that's okay. I noticed it for you.

Because I'm a very observant guy.

This is because I don't really like leaving the house. I'm this close to being a complete shut-in. It's what I prefer, honestly. I don't care for people, in general.

Going to sporting events, or concerts, the shopping mall, the beach, bowling, a fancy restaurant... not my scene. Too many damned people, talking about things that do not interest me, annoying me with their very presence...

Christ, I just shuddered thinking about it.

So why a movie theater? A big, crowded room full of people that I don't like on principle. Movies are a passion of mine, I suppose. I've loved watching movies for as long as I can remember.

And there's some magic in seeing a movie on that big screen, with the music pumping out of those massive speakers. People don't annoy me in a theater.

Well, mostly. Occassionally, there's that douchebag who just gets under your skin. Maybe he won't shut up. Maybe he's talking too loud. Maybe he has some breathing issues.

Like this fellow I had to sit next to when I saw "G.I. Joe" in August. I say "fellow", but what I mean is "manatee".

He was taking up the better part of three seats, having pulled up the adjustable armrests, giving his ample girth more room to spread across the already-generous seating.

He sounded like he was trying to breathe through a thin film of molasses in his throat. I almost thought he was slowly drowning in his own phlegm, but he did not expire during the feature presentation. It freaked me out.

He would punctuate his nightmarish breathing sounds periodically with a thick and hearty honking noise, presumably to choke down enough snot to prevent his lungs from filling up.

Good times, those were.

See? I just did it again. Wow. I didn't even mean to do it, that time.

What I'm trying to say is that as a fan of "Cinema" with a capital C, there really is nothing that beats that theatrical experience when it comes to enjoying a movie. That experience allows me to tolerate people to a degree that I would otherwise find impossible.

Every now and then, the communal experience happens. The scary movie makes you all jump, or shout. Then you all laugh about it. The comedy hits your funny bone, and the whole crowd can't stop laughing. The drama tugs on your heart strings, and maybe you all shed a tear. The adventure gets your blood pumping, and you cheer.

It's a true shared experience. You're all strangers, but you've all just experienced this movie together. It's something you really can't beat.

It's the Magic of Cinema.

And it's enough to make me bury my misanthropic nature for a little while. And interesting things tend to happen to me when I go to the movies. Interesting to me, at any rate.

So I rant about them here. It helps me hold onto those feelings a little longer, to keep them from fading away. The good and the bad.

I wouldn't trade it for anything.

No Shit, Sherlock!

I watched "Sherlock Holmes", the delightful new romantic comedy from "Swept Away" director Guy Ritchie, yesterday.

I liked it, I must say. I was certainly entertained throughout the endeavor. Never bored.

Unlike... *shudder* ..."Avatar".

Man, the more I think of that cat-monkey movie, the more I dislike it. I still don't hate it, but I like it less. So long. So predictable.

Hmmm... I suppose I should talk about the "Sherlock Holmes" movie in a little more detail.

It's funny, but I don't usually like to talk about movies that I enjoy at length. It's much easier to talk about the other movies, the failures, the disappointments...

The "Avatar"s.

Anyhoo... Robert Downey, Jr. IS the reason to see the film. He's tops in every scene, you can always count on him to do or say something that will put a smile on your face.

Also: Jude Law. Where the fuck have you been? I can't remember seeing him in a theatrical motion picture since that fucking "Alfie" remake.

Wait... I remember he played Errol Flynn in "The Aviator". Man, I loved him in that movie.

Getting into a fight with some stuffy Hollywood type for no apparent reason after making Howard Hughes uncomfortable at the dinner table, stealing some of the obsessive-compulsive bastard's food.

Great times, those were. Ahhh...

Jude Law should have played Ozymandias in the "Watchmen" movie. Not Matthew Goode. Not to say I disliked Goode in "Watchmen". He was good. Goode was Goode in "Watchmen".

Jesus, did I just type that? What am I, Gene Shalit?

Mark Strong needed more to do. The whole "Moriarty" tease in the film made me a little angry. "Let's go find this 'Moriarty' character!" End Credits. Curse you, Guy Ritchie.

This fucking movie better make some bread, because I want to see a sequel.

Just don't invite Rachel McAdams back.

Maybe Keira Knightley. Is that how you spell her name? She's a better actress. Let her be Irene Adler in "Sherlock Holmes 2: The Search For Curly's Gold".

I really need to stop listening to Meat Loaf.

Who am I kidding? That's never gonna happen. I celebrate the man's entire catalogue.

Except for "Welcome to the Neighborhood". Fuck that album.

My Fondest Christmas Memory...

Seven years ago, Christmas Day.

Or Christmas Night, rather. Because it was night time.

My annual Christmas tradition is going to the cinema. Something I want to see always opens on or around the big day, and I'm a movie whore, so it's a no-brainer. 11 years running, dammit!

Anyway, I'm at the cinema with two of my dear friends, and we're holding our tickets, waiting in line for... I can't remember the name of the movie, but that's not important.

I don't remember the day (or night) because of the scintillating motion picture I experienced that Christmas, it was because I met Ken Shamrock.

That's right. Ken Mother-Fucking Shamrock. Perhaps some of you haters of The Sport Of Kings don't know who he is. Google his name, you infidels.

Right. I'm telling a story.

So there he is, right? Ken Shamrock, himself, walking out of some movie with this little entourage, looking pissed-the-fuck-off.

You know that look. Like he's about to punch through a brick wall with his bare fucking hands.

THAT look.

But I know this may be my only opportunity to meet the man (I don't get out much). So I stumble out of line, and make a beeline for Kenny.

I step in front of him. We lock eyes. And I wonder briefly if I've made a huge mistake. Perhaps my weak flesh will become the stand-in for that sturdy brick wall, tonight.

I reach into my pocket with an unsteady hand and pull out my trusty Sharpee. I always carry a Sharpee when I leave the house. I have a strong compulsion to share my thoughts with complete strangers via hastily scribbled messages on public bathroom walls. It's kind of my thing.

I hold the Sharpee up to Ken Shamrock, and squeak out "I'm a huge fan, Mr. Shamrock. Could you sign my shirt?" He stares at the Sharpee for what seems like an eternity, then right into my face for another eternity. I feel my brain boiling under his stare.

Then he snatches the Sharpee out of my hand. He bites the cap off and spits it into the line of staring moviegoers. One of them took it home as a lucky souvenir, I'm sure. Maybe they intended to clone Shamrock with the saliva on the cap. No matter.

He proceeds to sign my shirt in the most violent way I could ever imagine. He basically raped my torso with my own Sharpee. I remember it hurting quite a bit, at the time. The painful jabs, the aching strokes...

When he finished this "signing", he briefly held the Sharpee up to his nose, inhaling the magic marker fumes, combined with the smell of my fear-sweat.

The he jammed my Sharpee into his shirt pocket, which I remembered thinking was quite stupid, because without a cap, it would surely bleed into the material.

He grinned, barked out a quick "Merry Christmas", then disappeared into the night.

I rejoined the line with my friends, and we all looked at the scribblings on my shirt.

It said: Fuck You, Ken Shamrock.

That's what the man scrawled on my shirt. His violent assault on my chest had actually broken the skin, so a small blood stain had joined the signature, like some kind of twisted punctuation. It looks like an umlaut over the word "Fuck".

After the movie, I went home, removed the shirt, and put a bandage on my bruised and battered chest. I had the shirt professionally framed. It hangs over the computer on which I type.

Sometimes I lean back in my chair and stare at the blood-stained memorabilia, remembering that magical night.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

A Few Words From Vinnie The Hardcase

The following is a story a friend wanted to share. Don't ask me why...

"I was at the movies the other day, right? And as I was waiting for the movie to start, I'm getting ready to smoke a cigarette, right?

I reach for my lighter, and I can't fucking find it!

I'm searching all my pockets over and over again, right? But it's fucking gone, man! Maybe I left it home, or some shit.

Anyway, I spot this broad, right? She's leaning against a wall, and she's smoking a cigarette. She's trying to look cool, you know, but I know better. All faux-intellectual and bitter.

Plus, she's wearing a scarf in May. I hate that shit.

But I need to light my cigarette, and I assume this broad lit her cigarette somehow. Lighter, matches, two sticks rubbed together... I don't give a fuck.

I need my soot before the movie, otherwise I get antsy. And when I get antsy, I punch motherfuckers.

So I straighten my hair out, a little. You know, no big deal. I saunter on over to the broad and politely ask her for a light.

This snooty bitch gives me the fucking cold shoulder! She totally turns her head and rolls her fucking eyes at me! What the fuck, man!?

Sure, this broad is fucking frigid because she's never had a pleasing encounter with a man in her life, but that's not my fucking fault. If she jumped in the sack with me, she'd have no fucking complaints! In her fucking dreams...

I'd never fuck some stuck-up broad who wears a scarf in May.

Well, maybe if she asked REAL nice, I'd give her a pity fuck. But that's it.

Anyway, I get in this chick's face, right? I tell her to give me a light, otherwise there's gonna be trouble. She totally gets that "I'm about to be raped" look in her fucking eyes, and she hits me with the fucking pepper spray!

Before I can react, this dumb broad runs away, and I'm left screaming, clutching me eyes in front of the movie house, with no fucking light! Can you believe this shit?!

She comes back a few minutes later with these two burly security guards who look like they're just waiting for an excuse to break their little nightsticks over my head. I struggle a bit, but it's no good. The taser comes out to play, and I end up pissing myself in front of this crowd of dick-licking rubberneckers!

Un-fucking-believable.

Anyway, I get hauled off to jail, and spend the night locked up, because my alcoholic mother wouldn't answer her fucking phone!

This shit was like two years ago. I've never forgotten my lighter, since.

-Vinnie"

"Dances With Wolves"... IN SPAAAAACE!!!!!!!

Kevin Coster owes Jim Cameron a beating.

I saw the "Avatar" 3D thingy on Sunday, with my brother.

We saw the first 3d showing of the day, at 11:30 AM. We arrived at the cinema around 11:10, and were immediately greeted with a line of people extending nearly twenty feet outside, in the cold morning sun.

We quickly found out that the line was for ticket holders, not ticket buyers, and after we bought our tickets, the line had moved inside (barely), so we didn't have to stand outside. Which was nice.

The cinema wasn't seeting for the movie, yet. Apparently because some church group was using the space earlier. Why a fucking church group was using this particular theatre in a cinema with 20 fucking screens, not to mention the fact that a church bought the old closed megaplex a few miles west 2 years prior, I'll never know.

But we finally managed to sit down in the crowded theatre around 11:45 AM, and I was already unhappy.

Right off the bat, I'll say that the best 3D effect of the entire experience occurred during a trailer for some National Geographic psuedo-documentary involving prehistoric sea life. Nothing in the featured attraction lived up to that trailer.

That makes me sad.

The second trailer was for some godawful movie starring Doc Brown's ghost called "Call of the Wild 3d". Jack London is screaming from beyond the grave.

I saw this fucking movie on dvd at Wal-Mart the next day, on sale for $9.99. I even did a double-take. No lie.

Christopher Lloyd's ghoulish face grinning at me on the shelf, floating above a big sticker telling me that the dvd includes 3(!!!) free pairs of 3D glasses, so that I could potentially subject two of my friends to the torment that is "Call of the Wild 3D", and subsequently lose them in a murder-suicide pact shortly after the credits roll.

The note says: NO FUNERAL.

Anyway...

Right, I'm supposed to be talking about that cat-monkey movie.

It was okay. JUST okay. If I had seen it in 2D, I just would have been pissed off. The 3D effects were solid, and they drew me into the mediocre story more than once, so I gave it a pass, for the most part.

Lots of annoying, unnecessary narration from Sam "Who Gives A Fuck" Worthington.

That crazy nerd who stole Alan Covert's game in "Grandma's Boy" was there, too. I kept expecting him to tell one of the N'avi to sit on his face in that creepy robot voice.

Never happened. If it had, I would have liked the movie A LOT more.

Lots of cat-monkey nipple slips. Sigourney Weaver naked, wrapped in leaves like some geriatric

Poison Ivy lying in front of a Nerve-Ending Tree.

Giant blue Native Americans plugging their hair into six-legged horses and dragons.

The retard who fell in love with the other retard in "The Other Sister" playing golf like Bob Hope on the USO tour of Klendathu.

The scowling chick who died in "Lost" and "Resident Evil" and "Fast & Furious" shows up to fly a helicopter and blow up for no good reason.

Wes Studi is there, because HE HAS TO BE THERE.

Bluhura falls in love with the cripple in the N'avi skin suit, and they make love. Then a tree explodes.

Then there's a battle.

A lunatic Colonel fights the cripple with his Matrix Revolutions Mech, first with a big fucking gun, then with a big fucking knife.

Bullshit mysticism. AVATAR!!!!

Credits roll, Leona Lewis "sings"... END.

I hope Kevin Costner punches the stupid out of Jimmy Cameron when he tracks him down.

"Megafault" Actress Brittany Murphy Dead At 32

Heart attack, the internet tells me. I liked her in "Clueless" and "Sin City". Funny voice-over work in "King Of The Hill". Very pretty. Infectious laughter. Sad day.

How David Bowie Fucked Me Up For Life

The first song I remember hearing: "Space Oddity" by David Bowie.

I couldn't have been any older than 3. I remember hearing this song on the radio, in the car with my mom. I was in the back seat of the Ford Escort, one with backward-facing rear seats, on the way back home from a grocery store.

This countdown began pumping through the speakers... 10...9...8...7... The sounds of Mission Control walking Major Tom through his final pre-flight checks, wishing him luck, then Blast Off.

I was completely enthralled by this. Hearing Major Tom's transmission to Mission Control as he steps out of the capsule, into Space. This was the most amazing thing I had ever heard.

All of these images flashing through my developing mind of a lonely astronaut, venturing out of the safety of his rocket, exploring deep space, going where no man had ever gone before (I did not yet know about the moon landing).

It was COOL.

Then the song goes on, and Major Tom is in trouble. "Ground Control to Major Tom... Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong... Can you hear me, Major Tom... Can you hear me, Major Tom...

Then the song ends with Major Tom's final transmission: Here am I floating 'round my tin can. Far above the Moon. Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do... Fade out.

I was devastated. Weeping quietly to myself, in the back seat of my mother's car, worried about the fictional Major Tom.

I didn't know what a "song" was, really. Some part of my brain thought this was really happening, that poor Major Tom was lost in space, drifting further and further away from his home, out into the Void.

That memory still stands out, crystal clear, in my head. I've managed to forget so much of my early childhood, but that memory still remains.

And every time I hear "Space Oddity", my eyes grow a little damp.

Tis The Season... For Comedy!

Something you may not know about my delightful photoplays: They're old.

It all started as a goof during Black History Month (AKA February), 2006. I was hanging out with my friend Titus, and my cousin Ky. I had some black and white film, and a shoddy 35mm camera.

So we all dicked around for a while, and came up with a flimsy story about a brutal murderer (played by Titus), who stalks and kills a porn shop consumer (played by Ky). We shot it in about 40 minutes, driving around town and stealing shots at porn shops and public parks.

When it was finished, and the developed film came back to me, I put the "photoplay" in an album and called it "Night Ranger", because we all liked that song "Sister Christian".

After that, I just figured we could make a few more of these simple things. Come up with some weird concepts, shoot them quickly, and put them together for a quick giggle.

Between February, 2006, and September, 2007, we shot 24 of the damned things, including a new, color film version of "Night Ranger", called "The Sister Christian Remix". The photoplay called "Night Ranger 2" on my Youtube Channel is actually the original b&w version of "Night Ranger", with the added alternate ending involving the Sock Monkey that we shot for fun.

Earlier this year, I decided since I had this new editing software on my computer, that I could experiment with my old photoplays, turning them into odd little short films. I began the arduous task of scanning the old photos, cropping and correcting them, and cutting them to music, adding "funny" dialogue wherever I could.

I showed them as they rolled off the old assembly line to my friends and family, and they all seemed to enjoy them. Eventually, I chose to upload them to YouTube. Not sure why, really. Maybe I just thrive on disappointment.

3 of the old photoplays were so fucking lazy, they could never tell a semi-coherent story, so I never scanned them, choosing instead to let them languish in my old, tattered albums until Judgment Day.

The others, I am uploading to my YouTube channel, slowly and methodically, until my creative cache is exhausted.

That rather long-winded prologue brings me to the point of my story: I have created a brand-new photoplay.

Two nights ago, I got together with my cousin, we got creative, and the fruit of our loins is now on the Mighty Tubes of You for the masses to ignore.

It's called "The Christmas Miracle", and it tells the heart-warming story of a simple man who loves Christmas with all his heart. On Christmas Eve, he is visited by a mysterious stranger who teaches him the true meaning of the season.

I think it's actually funny. I really do. It's also my first photoplay shot with a digital camera, which certainly makes the entire process much quicker, if nothing else.

It's available on my channel, which is here: http://www.youtube.com/user/uncleoflies. It's also available on my Channel Viewer, which is to your right.

'Tis the Season, right? Watch it, and let the warm feelings of the holiday flood into your cynical soul.

Or not.

Either way, I'm good.

Goodbye, Dan

Dan O'Bannon is dead.

Most people probably have no idea who Dan O'Bannon is/was. He's been a hero of mine since I was 13 years old, and saw "Return of the Living Dead" for the first time.

It's difficult to describe how profoundly that film affected me. Funny, sexy, scary, with one of the coolest soundtracks my pubescent mind had ever heard. One of my very favorite movies of all time, right behind "Phantom of the Paradise".

O'Bannon collaborated with a young John Carpenter to make the absurdly entertaining "Dark Star" back in 1974.

Then he worked as a special FX artist on the original "Star Wars" film before co-writing one of the greatest science fiction films ever: Ridley Scott's "Alien".

He worked on "Heavy Metal" and "Dead & Buried" (another classic) before making his masterpiece in 1985: "Return of the Living Dead" (!!!).

His work tapered off after that, contributing to the screenplays for Tobe Hooper's "Lifeforce" and his "Invaders From Mars" remake, as well as co-writing the script for what became Paul Verhoven's gleefully violent "Total Recall".

After that, O'Bannon kind of faded away. I noticed his screenwriter credit on the Peter Weller sci-fi flick "Screamers" back in 1995.

His name surfaced once again on the direct-to-video "Bleeders" in 1997, starring my favorite hitchhiker, Rutger Hauer.

I remember liking the movie well enough, but the video cassette box always stood out in my mind, because the front of the box was covered in a clear plastic card filled with fake blood. It was a novelty thing, for sure, but it was the first time I ever saw anything like that.

After that... nothing.

I hear a few of his unfilmed screenplays are currently in development, but who knows what will come out of that.

It seems to me that O'Bannon never got his due in Hollywood, despite having his hand in one of the biggest franchises of the last 30 years.

Now he's gone. I'll miss the man.

And I'll watch "Return of the Living Dead" again in his honor, tonight.

As if I needed an excuse to watch it...

FUCK NATURE!!!

My carefully laid-out plan of staring at the night sky to view the wondrous Geminids Meteor Shower this weekend was flushed right down the toilet by Mother-Fucking Nature.

I go out Sunday night, around midnight, to take in the majesty of the cosmos, and... DENIED!!! Heavy cloud cover. That's a bummer.

So I venture out later on, around 3 AM, and the clouds have not relinquished their stranglehold over the sky.

So I decide to catch the tail-end of the meteor shower on Monday night. Clear skies all day. All Fucking Day. The All Mighty Sun takes his daily nap, and the Cirrus Fun Spoilers come a-rolling in once again, to give me the water vapor Finger.

And they remain above my head, mocking me with their cold, eyeless stare, ALL FUCKING NIGHT!!! Nature screwed me. I was heartbroken.

Of course, tonight is one of those crystal-clear, picturesque nights you only read about in Fairy Tales. But the meteors... they're gone. Gone with the Wind. Like Tuesday.

And "Invasion!" is finished. Still 218 hits. I guess people finally realized they shouldn't click on that "Video Response" link below the delightful "Happy In Paraguay" video. I don't blame them.

I don't know what I'm going to upload next. But I do know one thing. My previous video, "El Seismologist" has only 3(!!!) hits to date. 3 people watched it. And one of them lives in Croatia.

My next video will be very lucky, indeed to live up to that golden "El Seismologist" standard.

I feel like break-dancing!!!

Brotherly Love

The weekend means CINEMA TIME!!!

My brother joined me for a matinee this afternoon. We were planning on seeing "The Men Who Stare At Goats" at last, but our local theatre shuffled the showtimes around, and when we arrived at the cinema, our desired feature had already started.

So we decided to see "Brothers", appropriately enough. The delightful romantic comedy starring Spider-Man, Donnie Darko, and Queen Amidala.

If you don't know anything about the film, imaginary reader, let me refresh your memory: A marine and family man played by Spider-Man is deployed to Afghanistan shortly after his black sheep brother, played by Donnie Darko, is released from a stint in prison. After Spider-Man's chopper is shot down and he is presumed dead, Donnie Darko picks up the slack around the house, renovating Queen Amidala's kitchen and playing house with her two precocious daughters. When Spider-Man is rescued from the sinister Taliban and returns home, hijinks ensue!

The movie is good. Donnie Darko and Queen Amidala both play their roles admirably, and Spider-Man is fantastic as an emotionally broken war veteran with a "dark secret". His third act freak-out is spectacular.

One scene in particular had both myself and my brother laughing long after we fled the cinema, retreating into the cold, late Autumn evening.

After Spider-Man comes home from his wacky adventures in Taliban Town, the entire family gathers to celebrate the birthday of one of his delightful children (don't ask me to remember which one). Everyone is on edge. Spider-Man, suspicious of his wife and jail bird brother, is ready to snap. Then his lovely daughter says something like this:

"Why couldn't you just stay dead?!"

Oh shit.

"You're just mad because mom would rather have sex with Uncle Tommy than YOU!!!"

OH SHIT.

"They've been having sex ALL THE TIME!!!!!"

OH SHIT!!!!

Hilarity ensues. Screaming adults, balloons popping, spittle flying, Spider-Man's eyes bugging out of his skull... Mass Hysteria!

Later that evening, Queen Dead-Amidala -Walking tucks her cute little hellspawn into bed, telling the little girl she loves her and kissing her cherubic little forehead.

Inside, the Queen is screaming: "Do you have any idea what you've done, you stupid cow?! You know your Daddy is crazy!!! You've just killed your dear Uncle Tommy!!!! You've just killed your loving Mommy!!!! We're gonna get murdered by a bat-shit insane war veteran and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!!!! I should have had an abortion..."

Delightful movie.

"Invasion!" has bottomed out, by the way. 218 hits. The wave has crested, and is receding back into the horizon. I am finished.

The Sky Is Falling!

The Geminids Meteor Shower peaks this Sunday night.

I geek out for meteor showers. I think they're just great.

Especially since I moved out of the city and the true scope of the night sky has been revealed to me.

Sunday night, I'm going outside with a blanket and my iPod. I'm going to spread out and watch the greatest show on Earth whilst listening to the "2001: A Space Odyssey" soundtrack.

It's gonna be EPIC.

"Invasion!" has 215 hits, as of midnight. YIPPEE!!!

Birthdays Are Lonely Days

I celebrated my birthday last night.

I'm kind of a boring guy, so I didn't do much. I saw a movie.

I always see a movie on my birthday. It's a tradition I enjoy. It keeps me entertained. Sometimes the movie I see isn't very good. Sometimes, it's awful. But I never regret it.

One year, I had the misfortune of seeing the double feature of "Vertical Limit" and "Dungeons & Dragons". "D & D" was obviously a poor excuse for a motion picture.

The only thing I enjoyed about that garbage pail of a movie was Jeremy Irons' insane performance. When he screams "LET THE BLOOD RAIN FROM THE SKIES!!!" during the climactic dragon battle, I laughed like a maniac.

To this day, my cousin and I will just randomly scream that line at inopportune times. Still makes us laugh.

My pal Titus, who has appeared in several of my photoplays, has always been a huge "D & D" fan, and was understandably excited to see the inevitable big-screen adaptation of his favorite pen-and-paper RPG.

Ky and I found ourselves sitting next to Titus' little brother Josh during the screening of "D & D". We asked where Titus was, and Josh told us that he was getting off work late and was coming to catch the late screening of the film.

The three of us laughed our asses off throughout the movie, but as we walked out of the theatre, we realized that our friend Titus was likely have a much different reaction to the movie.

We caught him in line, waiting to buy a ticket for the late show. We convinced Titus to skip out on "D & D", and instead, we all went to see "Vertical Limit". We rarely talk out loud during any theatrical experience, but this movie was so lame, the four of us went MST3K on this bitch.

And the best part of it was that the audience began laughing with us and at the cinematic turd unspooling before our eyes. It was a magical moment, my friends. Magical.

About a year later, Titus informed me that he finally watched the "Dungeons & Dragons" movie on DVD. He calmly told me that in convincing him to avoid watching the movie on that fateful night, I probably saved someone's life. I believe him.

This year, I watched "The Fantastic Mr. Fox". It was great. Happy Birthday to me.

"Invasion!" has 127 hits, by the way. Hooray!

Happy Dance?!

I posted my latest photoplay, "Invasion!", on YouTube two days ago.

I decided to post it as a video response to one of my current favorite videos, "Happy In Paraguay" from Day Job Orchestra. I had never done the whole "video response" thing in the past, and wasn't terribly sure what it all meant.

Perhaps I was being opportunistic. Oh well.

My video has so far been viewed 63 times, making it my current best, easily outpacing my previous #1 video, the immortal "Hatlander".

Nobody who has viewed the video has rated it or left any comments, so I'm not sure if anyone is enjoying it. Probably, they aren't.

After they click on the link, they feel betrayed. And that's my fault.

But screw it. Somebody actually watched one of my videos. I consider that a victory.

King of Internet!

December Means Bad Comedy!

Autumn is coming to an end. Winter's chill sweeps in like something that sweeps. I am content.

And I have uploaded a new photoplay. YouTube, feel my wrath.

It's called "Invasion!", and it's about aliens. From outer space. Not Mexico. I have nothing against Mexicans, but they have fewer UFOs.

It's also about booze. Someone wants it. Someone has it. Struggles happen. It's my finest work yet... okay, not really.

That's probably still "Hatlander". At least, judging by the number of views it has gathered. 35, thus far. That's a personal best.

My previous video, "El Seismologist", only has 3 views. Some dude in the Czech Republic watched it. Then he probably killed himself. Poor bastard.

My horrible photoplays have also been viewed by folks from Germany, Japan, the U.K., Croatia, and Italy.

I wonder who these people are, and how they discovered my videos. Since altogether, my 11(!) videos haven't gathered 100 hits since I began the painful process of uploading them.

I truthfully wonder how these folks found my stuff. Did they just hate the videos? They could have left a comment, or at least rated them. One star is fine, at least it shows effort.

Anyway... "Invasion!". Watch it. Look to the right.

If anyone ever reads this, tell the world my story.