The week of September 15th through September 21st

Lord, it's been a long week. I've been away from the world, stuck out on Ellis Island with the weak and the poor. The hungry and the tired. A Whoop-dooless Nation, if you will. It was strange walking back into civilization for the first time. And suddenly seeing that it was 1996 all over again. Wholly Christmas!

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

O.J.? Boo!

O.J. steals Joe Namath's football? Boo! Imagine my surprise when, after having had the TV turned off for seven day, I turned it back on to see O.J. Simpson under arrest. It was funny at first, and then just kind of sad. What is this guy thinking? Whatever it is, I want what he's been drinking. Put it in my cup, fill it up. This guy is crazy. Straight off the docks. Did he think he wouldn't get caught? He's O.J. Simpson. The most notoriously famous sports figure in history. A killer, maybe. This latest heist does not bode well for those who still attest that Simpson is innocent. I mean, I get why he did it. The fat, black bastard needs money. I need money too, but you don't see me robbing the local trading card outpost. Thing is, I probably wouldn't get caught. This guy is just pathetic, and now he has totally ruined the already tainted The Naked Gun series. What we once could watch, we now must bow our heads in shame in front of. O.J.: The Cruel Entertainer. (Yes, this sh*t is very entertaining, and don't pretend like its not). I think getting a life ban from The Palms Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas is the least of his problems at this current moment in time. God, what an asshole.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Spirit Airlines? Boo!

Spirit Airlines? Boo! Is flying a form of entertainment? I think for some it is. But that's not the point. Sometimes, when you want to be entertained, you have to fly from point A to point B. A short distance, a destination none-the-less. Maybe you want to fly out to Bonaroo or Coachella. Go see an Art House flick in Hollywood that isn't playing in Weed, California. You get the drift. Well, if you are trying to keep yourself on a budget, you might pick a flight with Spirit Airlines to get you out to see Jane's Addiction at Lollapalooza. Bad move, creep. You've just set yourself up for one of the worst airline experiences of your life. This flight company sucks so hard, it'll ruin any experience you have between the flight there and the flight home. They claim to be the cheapest jetliner in the sky. Not true. I compared prices, and United had similar flight bargains. Spirit charges you to check your luggage. The seats are so close together, a midget leper without kneecaps will be scrapping the back of the seat in discomfort. Forget about that in-flight movie, these guys don't even offer headphones. Their in-flight magazine is only three pages long. They charge you for all food including water. The people flying on the plane with you are rude and crude. But I don't blame them. They are having one of the worst experiences of their short life. Worst of all, the mostly male flight crew is made up of retards. One Steward grabbed a basketball out of the overhead luggage carrier and started bouncing it against someone's chair. Turned out, it was a hundred dollar basketball the customer had just bought at an NBA museum. Then, worst of all, in the middle of the flight, one of the male stewards yelled out in a loud panic, scaring nearly everyone on the plane to death. Most of them were sleeping, as it was a red-eye flight. The other steward gay-slapped his hand and said, "Oh, stop it! You nearly scared all of us half to death." Spirit Airlines: Hands down the worst slum bullet tearing up the blue skies. These people are sick.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

RETV? Whoop-doo!

RETV? Whoop-doo! This is reggae's answer to MTV. Pumped out of Jamaica, the channel offers all Rasta, all the time. It's a refreshing change of pace from all the High School Musical kids, and the new Britney's, and the latest Foo F*ckers, and all those rap scallions tripping up the dirty airwaves with their wack-ass rhymes (Kanye and Curtis, anyone?). The music is refreshing and brilliant, a slab of delicious life you probably won't find elsewhere. 99% of the videos being offered are new, and you probably haven't seen any of them before. But you will quickly fall in love with the rotation. Its easy music to put on and sip your life away to. I highly recommend it. And I wasn't necessarily a fan of reggae before tuning into its succulent audio waves of awesomeness. You can subscribe to the channel for only $7.99 a month. Or, you can move to Jamaica and get the channel for free. It's your choice, really.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Twilight Zone? Whoop-doo!

Twilight Zone the Movie? Whoop-doo! The story behind the making of this film is quite sad, and has haunted director John Landis ever since that tragic accident occurred back in 1983. Actor Vic Marrow and two Vietnamese children got their heads chopped off by a helicopter blade while shooting this small masterpiece. It was a horrific incident that tainted the entire production. Seeing as how the scene, for the most part, has been left in the movie, most figured it would never make its way onto DVD. But here it is, in all of its Spielbergian glory. John Lithgow and Dan Aykroyd steal this anthology, but its Joe Dante's episode (the third of four) that still effects me the most. The little girl with no mouth is horrifying. It was one of the few things that scared me as a kid. It's been so long, I really can't wait to sit down and watch this in its entirety for the first time in probably close to twenty years. I doubt it still stands up. But at least we'll finally have Aykroyd and his infamous line, "Do you want to see something scary? Do you want to see something 'REALLY' scary?" in tact and on the small screen. The menacing images are going to hurt me all over again, and I love it. George Miller is the other contributing director. Now, if we could just get Terror Vision on disc. The world would be perfect.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Ebert? Whoop-doo!

Ebert's Your Movie Sucks? Whoop-doo! Ebert is finally back on the scene after being out of commission for a while. I don't know about you, but I sure missed him. He's probably the only critic that I read for sheer entertainment value alone. And he's never more on fire than when he is dismissing someone's work. Picking on a bad B movie is easy. Most critics paint-by-number when it comes to tearing into a worthless theatrical endeavor. Not Ebert. He's turned true criticism into a cheerful art form. His Zero Star reviews are priceless, and this new book, released in conjunction with his exit from the hospital, compiles three hundred pages of his funniest reviews and disses. The guy is a hack-master. And his ax is sharp and sticky, here. This is the must read of the year, especially for anyone interested in critique journalism.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Navy Seals? Whoop-doo!

A Navy Seals remake? Whoop-doo! Sheen + Biehn + Guns = Awesome. I guess. I missed this party the first time around. I remember when it came out. I didn't really want to see it. We were at the tail end of summer, and Bill Murray's Quick Change was playing in the theater next-door. I chose that option instead. My two brothers and a girlfriend went to see Navy Seals. My comedy was only 80 minutes long, while their film was a good, solid two hours. So, I had to wait around in the lobby. These fourteen-year-old girls were there, sucking on tootsie-pops and sticking them on the crotches of the Standees that surrounded us. One girl quizzed me about Tom Cruise. She thought he was ugly. She wanted to know my opinion. I didn't really have one. We all watched Quick Change that day, together. I was around the same age. I made out with three of them in the dark. And it was fun. At least it seemed a lot funner than Navy Seals. In all these years, I never could bring myself to watch it. I thought it might taint my memories. But now, with the film getting a fresh coat of paint, I think I might be ready to embrace it. Bring on Navy Seals! I can't wait for the suck (isn't that what the Marines call it?)

That's it for now. In the mean time, all hail Elrocho, president of the Whoop-Doo! Nation. The people have voted. He's our man. Me, I'm just a Whoop-Doo Nation spokesperson. See you next week.

B. Alan Orange at Movieweb
B. Alan Orange