He was one of my favorites.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
In Theaters Tomorrow
As you will soon learn I'm a huge movie buff. So much so that I spend portions of my free time writing scripts that I'll never finish. "In Theaters Tomorrow" is a weekly post where I'll attempt to give you a little insight into which movies I think will be good and which will be bad and descriptions of each movie. I have not seen any of these movies prior to release and these previews should be taken with a grain of salt... I just spend a lot of time looking at little bits of news about movies that may have slipped past you and given me better insight into the quality of the film.
For Friday June 20th
Get Smart is a movie that both scares and delights me. I'm excited about this film because I spent a good portion of my childhood watching reruns of this show on nick at night with my grandma. Grandma and I watched Maxwell Smart, agent 99 and the chief religiously when I was down visiting. I'm also a huge Mel Brooks fan. I'm also a huge fan of whoever cast this film... Steve Carrell is one of the funniest men in the business and a perfect fit for the buffoonish Smart, Alan Arkin is fantastic and Anne Hathaway is not only extremely beautiful but also a great actress others I like who have been cast in the film include a personal favorite in Bill Murray, Patrick Warburton, Masi Oka, Terry Crews, James Caan and David Koechner. My problem is that I'm not sure this film can live up to the greatness of the original show. Peter Segal is the director and the only other film he's directed that I liked was Tommy Boy. I don't like "The Rock" in this film for 2 reasons...1) because he is an added character that didn't exist in the original and 2) I just don't like the rock. Did I mention that the writers have only written Failure To Launch and a few television shows that didn't stick out? I'm not sure if this film is about KAOS or will be chaos.
The other big film out this week is The Love Guru. This is Mike Myers first original character since Austin Powers, but I'm afraid its way off target. The trailer doesn't bother to set up any type of plot or explain how Jessica Alba and Justin Timberlake fit into the film. Apparently Myer's character is an American who has been raised in India by gurus. He has now returned to the states to break into the self-help and spiritual business. His first big task is to get a star hockey player's (Romany Malco of Weeds fame) estranged wife back from a rival hockey player (Timberlake, whom I think is actually a good actor) before the Stanley Cup. If you're wondering Alba is the owner of the hockey team that Malco plays for and Verne Troyer is the coach. Also in the cast is Jim Gaffigan, Stephen Colbert, Ben Kingsley (?) and cameos from Kanye West, Jessica Simpson and Depock Chopra.
Maybe around Christmas I'll rent You don't Mess with the Zohan and these two that came out this week and have a marathon of summer movies that missed the mark (even though Zohan has done well at the theater I'm just not that interested in it.
The other two films opening this week are opening in limited release and don't interest me enough to deserve words. They are Kit Kitterage: and American Girl and Brick Lane.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I have no more favors to give
I've got a good friend whom I'll call "Dick" who recently asked me for a favor. I am one of those unfortunate human beings who far too often is accommodating when such requests are made. "Dick" is one of those people who thinks there is no unreasonable favor. I know this, but for some reason I always agree to help him out... in fact, not too long ago he ask a favor at a friend's wedding and that too was far more difficult than initially assumed. After that request I told my only other sensible friend within that particular circle that I would never again agree to one of "Dick's" incredible adventures in friendship, but here I am less than a month later bitching to no one in particular in a far corner of the Internet that will never be perused. On to the story.
"Dick" tends to offer about 25% of the information before pausing for a yea or a nay. His request was simple - "Benny, I need to return 2 trash cans and I'm going to be taking off for Ohio tomorrow. You've got a truck... Can you help me out?" I say yes thinking this sounds like a fairly simple task.
I didn't want to do it in the first place but I feel about the status of our friendship... it is a skeleton of what it once was and he was the one who welcomed me when I moved to this podunk fucking town way back when. We were best friends. He introduced me to every one of the people I now consider my best friends. We went to high school and college and even lived together for a year, but he stayed the exact same person and I grew. I realized that I hated the people he was good friends with and later on realized that I hated about 78% of the conversations I had with him. I hate to admit it but "Dick" is a tool. That's one reason he's been given that particular faux name... The other is because it where his brain is located.
When Dick calls me with all of the information I come to the conclusion that he has neglected to tell me that the garbage cans need to be returned to a place in a town that's 30 miles away. There is a goddamn sanitation place located in our home town, what the fuck is he doing going all the way out there in the first place? I say fine, but this is the last time- like always. When I get down to the bar where he works on the weekends to pick up these cans I notice that "dick's" math is now at the level of a 2 year-old. I've got 3 cans, not 2 and I've got a Ford Ranger, not a real truck. Two cans is doable, even easy but three is impossible and I knew it right then even though I proceeded. I didn't even bother to grab rope knowing that both would fit right in my bed and my leather cover would hold them down. I finally get the puzzle that is my garbage situation jammed together and go about a half a mile down the road in search of a place that sells rope.
Ace Hardware, Target and Walmart are too far away and the buckets scare me too much to go any further than I did. I happened to wonder into a place that my father used to manage not too long ago and where I worked for most of high school. The task is simple... all I want is some clothing line type rope, the tensile strength doesn't have to be too high. I must first have a half hour conversation with a very nice woman that I didn't really want to talk to. I got the, "What are you up to? finish school? got a job? got a girlfriend?" interrogation line of questioning and a ton of useless information about her grandchildren whom I've never met. After all of this I finally get to ask my one question and am pointed in the direction of the dollar store. This does not bode well.
My choices are twine and a thin plastic coated stuff. I chose the plastic coated stuff and I chose wrong. I do what I think is a pretty god job securing all of the trash cans to my truck and make sure to thread the stuff through each nook and cranny a few times before finally taking off. I take off down highway 55 which stops in my hometown and feels no need to be larger than one lane going in each direction because of that. Where the town ends and the farm begins along 55 its very hilly and very bumpy. I hit one of those previously mentioned bumps and boom two cans immediately fly out. One lands on the rumble strip but the other is smack dab in the middle of the on coming traffic's lane. I'm reciting every single cuss word I've ever leaned as cars are swerving out of the way and I pull over to the shoulder and slam on the brakes.
When I jump out of the truck cars a swerving into the other lane and swerving onto the shoulder. I'd guess that no less than 5 lives were put in danger by my attempt to return "Dick's" trash cans for him. I chuck it into the middle of a highway (there is decent traffic regardless of it's number of lanes) and drag this can over to the other one. The wheels are all fucked up and I have to drag the cans down quite a ways to the next driveway so that I can go get some real rope to try and get these things back to their rightful home.
I go to Walmart and grab some real rope and get back to the driveway that I dropped the cans off at and put my puzzle back together and tie it up tight. I get back on the road and start going again and no more than 2 minutes pass before I hear WHAM! I look at my mirrors and see one of the cans has flipped out and is banging against the side of my truck. Motherfucker! Is there no end to this insanity?
I pull back into another driveway before I A) end up with more cans strewn across the road B) Dent the shit out of my truck or C) kill someone. At this point I'm sick and tired of this situation... It's been over an hour and a half and I've gone a grand total of 5 miles, I've got garbage juice all over my shirt and it wasn't even my problem to begin with. I take those fuckin' cans back out of the bed of my truck and bring them back one by one to that shitty bar that Dick is always bugging me to go have a beer at and find the owner. I explain the situation thats just occured and appalogise for being unable to finish the task. She says, " No problem, I'll just have them come and pick them up on Monday." MY BRAIN EXPLODES as I walk out that door. Why would Dick even bother calling if this was an option?
"Dick" tends to offer about 25% of the information before pausing for a yea or a nay. His request was simple - "Benny, I need to return 2 trash cans and I'm going to be taking off for Ohio tomorrow. You've got a truck... Can you help me out?" I say yes thinking this sounds like a fairly simple task.
I didn't want to do it in the first place but I feel about the status of our friendship... it is a skeleton of what it once was and he was the one who welcomed me when I moved to this podunk fucking town way back when. We were best friends. He introduced me to every one of the people I now consider my best friends. We went to high school and college and even lived together for a year, but he stayed the exact same person and I grew. I realized that I hated the people he was good friends with and later on realized that I hated about 78% of the conversations I had with him. I hate to admit it but "Dick" is a tool. That's one reason he's been given that particular faux name... The other is because it where his brain is located.
When Dick calls me with all of the information I come to the conclusion that he has neglected to tell me that the garbage cans need to be returned to a place in a town that's 30 miles away. There is a goddamn sanitation place located in our home town, what the fuck is he doing going all the way out there in the first place? I say fine, but this is the last time- like always. When I get down to the bar where he works on the weekends to pick up these cans I notice that "dick's" math is now at the level of a 2 year-old. I've got 3 cans, not 2 and I've got a Ford Ranger, not a real truck. Two cans is doable, even easy but three is impossible and I knew it right then even though I proceeded. I didn't even bother to grab rope knowing that both would fit right in my bed and my leather cover would hold them down. I finally get the puzzle that is my garbage situation jammed together and go about a half a mile down the road in search of a place that sells rope.
Ace Hardware, Target and Walmart are too far away and the buckets scare me too much to go any further than I did. I happened to wonder into a place that my father used to manage not too long ago and where I worked for most of high school. The task is simple... all I want is some clothing line type rope, the tensile strength doesn't have to be too high. I must first have a half hour conversation with a very nice woman that I didn't really want to talk to. I got the, "What are you up to? finish school? got a job? got a girlfriend?" interrogation line of questioning and a ton of useless information about her grandchildren whom I've never met. After all of this I finally get to ask my one question and am pointed in the direction of the dollar store. This does not bode well.
My choices are twine and a thin plastic coated stuff. I chose the plastic coated stuff and I chose wrong. I do what I think is a pretty god job securing all of the trash cans to my truck and make sure to thread the stuff through each nook and cranny a few times before finally taking off. I take off down highway 55 which stops in my hometown and feels no need to be larger than one lane going in each direction because of that. Where the town ends and the farm begins along 55 its very hilly and very bumpy. I hit one of those previously mentioned bumps and boom two cans immediately fly out. One lands on the rumble strip but the other is smack dab in the middle of the on coming traffic's lane. I'm reciting every single cuss word I've ever leaned as cars are swerving out of the way and I pull over to the shoulder and slam on the brakes.
When I jump out of the truck cars a swerving into the other lane and swerving onto the shoulder. I'd guess that no less than 5 lives were put in danger by my attempt to return "Dick's" trash cans for him. I chuck it into the middle of a highway (there is decent traffic regardless of it's number of lanes) and drag this can over to the other one. The wheels are all fucked up and I have to drag the cans down quite a ways to the next driveway so that I can go get some real rope to try and get these things back to their rightful home.
I go to Walmart and grab some real rope and get back to the driveway that I dropped the cans off at and put my puzzle back together and tie it up tight. I get back on the road and start going again and no more than 2 minutes pass before I hear WHAM! I look at my mirrors and see one of the cans has flipped out and is banging against the side of my truck. Motherfucker! Is there no end to this insanity?
I pull back into another driveway before I A) end up with more cans strewn across the road B) Dent the shit out of my truck or C) kill someone. At this point I'm sick and tired of this situation... It's been over an hour and a half and I've gone a grand total of 5 miles, I've got garbage juice all over my shirt and it wasn't even my problem to begin with. I take those fuckin' cans back out of the bed of my truck and bring them back one by one to that shitty bar that Dick is always bugging me to go have a beer at and find the owner. I explain the situation thats just occured and appalogise for being unable to finish the task. She says, " No problem, I'll just have them come and pick them up on Monday." MY BRAIN EXPLODES as I walk out that door. Why would Dick even bother calling if this was an option?
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