I’d never reach into a snake pit for a dime store diamond. It’s not worth my time. Seriously, I might as well put a gun inside my mouth. Maybe I should cut off all my fingers so their not encumbered by this keyboard I kept thrusting in front of them on a semi-daily basis. Call it severe hand euthanasia.
Last week I wrote a column piece about censorship and how overly sensitive people have become. It centered itself on the double standards I keep running into here in Hollywood. And it was thusly wrapped around, what I considered to be, a five star review for some big time studio’s latest family film. One that has been receiving horrific criticism. From almost every site except ours, mind you. Yeah, I praised it for what it was. But guess what? They didn’t care. My views on censorship were censored (It was like I saw into the future). For the first time here at movieweb, what I’d written was ripped off the site and placed under house arrest.
You see, those studio heads in charge saw a couple of inappropriate words and decided I’d basically taken a (censored) on the steps of the white house. They argufied certain ideas, viewing them completely out of context. The rest of what I’d written was left blowing in the wind. They didn’t care that I was trying to make a point. Or have an opinion. They saw unspeakable nouns and adjectives, and decided to kill that noise quick. I don’t blame them. I was “supposed” to be supporting a “family film”. I was supposed to be sustaining a Pop-News enthusiasm for the project at hand. Instead, I decided to have an actual opinion about what was going on in the Media World around me at that time.
Apparently, that’s not appropriate behavior for an Entertainment site. I guess I should just saved my inane blathering for the Rants and Raves section of Craig’s List. Anyhow, I’ve decided to go back to the piece and take all the quote-unquote inappropriate words out. That way, whoever wants to, can go back through what I was trying to say and actually read it without being bombarded by the filth. I know, that leaves some gapping holes. That’s where your devilish little double-standard minds comes into play. We’re going to engage in a round of Mad-Libs. Whenever you see a word that says (CENSORED), you get to think up a word to go in its place. Trust me; you’ll probably come up with a more graphically enraging thought pattern than what was originally intended or written…
(Ready? Here we go…)
It’s like Roddy Bottum said, “Why you got to be so proud? I’m the one with lipstick on.”
I’ve never liked (CENSORED) or straight cranberry juice. Who decided that all of our contemporary superheroes should be watered down like a fruity cocktail from Trader Vics? I’m tired of the neo-mentality and its PG-13 mandate on our culture. Bring back Stallone. Bring back Schwarzenegger. Bring back Eastwood and Reynolds. I want a greased-up (CENSORED) that kills (CENSORED), drinks Jack with a beer back, and takes no names. Not some uber-sensitive flyboy that cries over his costume getting ruined in the dryer, “Boo-hoo, I’m (CENSORED) and I don’t know how to separate a wash cycle.”
A lot of people feel that I’m an insensitive (CENSORED), and rightfully so. These same jokers have recently called me out and chastised my “perceived” dialoguing. I guess there are certain words that I just shouldn’t say. No matter what. Tagged dioramas of a hateful nature never play nice, and I like to use them for more than shock value. I’m not allowed to call a (CENSORED) a (CENSORED). Nor am I allowed to call a (CENSORED) a (CENSORED) or a Jew. Oh, but they can call me anything they want to, and do. Fine, I’m all right with that. The thing that makes me angry is; I don’t hate any secular group (except for maybe the (CENSORED)s; that sh*t they did with the cats just aint right). I find language a fun and useful tool, especially when it comes to pushing people’s buttons. And it’s fun to watch unnamed individuals build up a certain type of disdain for any given nomenclature they might find distasteful. Recently, I was, dare I say, attacked for using the word “(CENSORED)”. I say it all the time, mostly as a friendly adverb to describe a colleague or associate. But this certain person decided I was a hatemonger and a closeted (CENSORED). I actually thought it was kind of funny, so I let it slip by without too much of a care.
(CENSORED). First, you’re telling me I can’t call my friends (CENSORED). Which they all are. But then, you turn around and make a big deal out of (CENSORED) being (CENSORED)? Where is the line with you people? You’re all insane, and the world’s sense of humor has dried up. I don’t know if (CENSORED)’s (CENSORED). I don’t care if (CENSORED)’s (CENSORED). I just don’t like the way he mumbles and stumbles around all pigeon-toed, pretending to be an action star when he’s bordering on being one of the most (CENSORED) personalities I’ve come across. In fact, I’d admire and like his on-screen persona a little bit more if I found out he was a (CENSORED) cad that secretly liked to be called Mr. (CENSORED) Boots. Personally, I don’t think he is a (CENSORED). I mean, he’s never had a marriage prearranged by the Church of Scientology and I haven’t heard of any hidden videotapes that he wants to keep secret from the public.
My point is, yes, I say the word “(CENSORED)”. Frequently. But I’ve never gone on and on about someone’s (CENSORED) preference (until now, I guess). It seems that the people who have a problem with me saying this word the most have quite a few hang-ups of their own. I mean; they obviously care that (CENSORED) seems to be hiding in a perceived (CENSORED) somewhere on his days off. To me, (CENSORED) is a face on a billboard. He’s an advertisement. What the man behind the mask does on his vacation is his business. Why do you f*cking care? I guess you care for the exact same reasons why you care about me using filthy language and supporting a bad attitude. You want to prove to someone, somewhere, maybe (CENSORED) even, that you’re a decent, upstanding citizen who understands and sympathizes with the plight of the so-called downtrodden minority.
I’m being (CENSORED) ridiculous, I know. I just felt like being overtly overly-sensitive there for a moment. Because I’m tired of all this emotional sleeve-wearing nonsense everyone seems to be partaking in nowadays. You’re all a bunch of whiney crybabies. I mean, suddenly, you can’t shut up about how much you hate (CENSORED)? Especially now that you think he’s (CENSORED)? I’ve heard nothing but the most awfully, hateful things spewed in the face of his new (CENSORED) movie. Why?
Because you think it’s stupid. And dumb. And (CENSORED). (Oops, there I go, using another insensitive word. I guess I can’t call chili poured on spaghetti noodles (CENSORED) lasagna, either.) One minute you don’t like (CENSORED) in (CENSORED) because it’s too heavy on the action and brain dead at the core of its spine. You don’t like The (CENSORED) of (CENSORED) because of its uber-intelligence, and its nonsensical storyline bothers you. Fine, so now he’s decided to do something else. And you don’t like that either. Why? Because he’s trying to riff on (CENSORED) and Hulk Hogan’s (CENSORED) series.
What do you want the man to do? You want him to give up and retire to some (CENSORED) island somewhere. You people are incorrigible.
“Hold up, wait a minute Orange! Didn’t you start this whole inner-personal sheet monologue with the overstated fact that you don’t like (CENSORED)?”
Yes. I did. For a simple, understated reason. He has an awesome voice. One of the best in the business. But he refuses to learn how to enunciate. He talks like a teenage girl that just got her tongue pierced at the mall. He’s a mumble mouth. It’s like giving a talented musician the best instrument in the world, and all he does is play Weird Al cover songs with it. (CENSORED)’s last few performances have been a rousing rendition of the Harlem Polka.
What I really want to call to attention is the film itself; The (CENSORED). When the project is good, I don’t mind (CENSORED) being there. He’s awesome in (CENSORED), but there’s so much chaotic misery going on within the confines of that tightly condensed storyline, Captain (CENSORED) could have been played by any number of thick-at-the-shoulder thespians. His droning timber was put to good use in the (CENSORED). And I thought that the skewed, perverse vision quest held within the framework of (CENSORED) made it one of the more original Cop Dramas to come alone in while.
It’s when the movie is a thick piece of (CENSORED) that I hate (CENSORED)’s presence. He wrecks every car crash and makes it that much worse. When there are dead bodies littering the thematic landscape of your new action thriller, the last person you need standing over your shoulder is this guy. Spit dribbling off his upper lip. And seriously, what’s up with his sensitive, condom-wearing, “I’m a bad dude but I care” attitude? He wants to be the James Dean Rebel, but he also wants to be the Politically Correct hero. There’s nothing PC about a supposed dissenter. Nothing. And, (CENSORED) it, I’m still trying desperately to figure out what was going on in The (CENSORED) of (CENSORED). (CENSORED)? I didn’t get it. Yet, here (CENSORED) is, in the midst of a new publicity tour, still going on and on about how important the project was to him. And how you should go rent it and study it, if you haven’t already.
I don’t care what he says. It’s a bad movie. It’s a bad, bad movie.
It’s horrible. So is the (CENSORED) and the (CENSORED). So is (CENSORED). But all of these movies have made money. So those in charge keep throwing (CENSORED) back up on our screen. Right out of the gate, people perceive The (CENSORED) to be in this same camp. Rightfully so, I guess. You’d almost have to think that. Why? Because no matter how hard you try not too, you’re going to associate it with (CENSORED)’s deep, three-inch thick catalogue of crap.
In all actuality, The (CENSORED) is a good attempt at funcore. It is what it is, A (CENSORED) MOVIE. I can’t scream that loud enough. The naysayers seem to forget that fact. This thing here is no different, better, or worse than the live-action films (CENSORED) pictures has made since the early Sixties. It falls perfectly in-line with kiddy flicks like The Cat from Outer Space and the Unidentified Flying Oddball. It’s in the same clique, and it’s meant to be just that. The (CENSORED) marks a fine progression in its stated market. It’s not striving to be much more than a fun family outing, and it does a fine job of accomplishing its goal. It rests in the same groove as the Lindsey Lohan-Jamie Lee Curtis Freaky Friday remake. It’s in that league.
You see; this is not a (CENSORED) film. It was never meant to be a (CENSORED) film. The script was originally written for (CENSORED), who, in all actuality, would have been just as good in the role. Both of them have a speech impediment. And both of them appeal to kids. The only call I would have made on the change would have been, “Foul on the fight scenes!” There aren’t enough of them here to satiate the genial (CENSORED) fan. But then, on that same note, for a (CENSORED) picture, I’d say that the film has two of the best fight sequences of (CENSORED)’s career. They’re better than anything I saw in (CENSORED).
The other kung-fu karate chop moment doesn’t even belong to (CENSORED). Instead, it belongs to one of the kids. (CENSORED) as a Buttercup Scout takes on a legion of Boy Scouts in what comes as one of the most inspired and fun moments seen in a children’s movie in some time. The essence of the scene goes a long way in keeping this one focused. It has enough mild twists and turns to never stall on itself. And I laughed out loud at the (CENSORED) (at least I did the first time I saw it). The director, (CENSORED), wanted to get rid of the bird. I’m glad he didn’t.
That leaves the question, “Would I recommend the movie to you?” That all depends on how sophisticated you are. Personally, I want to see a real action hero. Someone cool. Someone awesome. Someone who doesn’t give a (CENSORED) about anything. And is prone to destroying city blocks for no apparent reason at all. You’ll never get that with (CENSORED), because he is the watered down, socially acceptable, behavior-controlled, weepy-man’s protagonist. Yet, that vibe works here. As it did for Dean Jones and Michael Crawford. I’m a fan of (CENSORED)’s Saturday Afternoon fare. Call it a great appreciation for Herbie and Blackbeard’s Ghost. So, yes, if you, too, like movies such as The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes and The Apple Dumpling Gang, then you’ll probably dig on The (CENSORED) as much as I did.
Now, get out of my face. You dumb (CENSORED)s!
I hate you. And your perceived, (CENSORED)-take on things! Calling (CENSORED)’s new movie “awful” is a misconception of both taste and the way things work in the Entertainment industry. If you could at least get it right just once, maybe I’d lighten up and listen to you for a change…
By the way, when (CENSORED) goes to leave at the end, did anyone else expect the little girl to cry out, “No, (CENSORED)! Come back!” I personally feel it’s a missed opportunity.
Oh, shut up.
(Now that was fun, wasn’t it? Call it Interactive Entertainment News. We might have to do this more often, especially since Freedom of Speech just aint what she used to be. To give this site a more fair and balanced view on things, two new columns will be making their way onto Movieweb. Look for Paulington’s “Spooky Holler Funtime Chat” and Paulington’s “I Love You. And Your Awesome Movie.” Two feel good pop-pieces which will be run simultaneously alongside my more hateful work. See you next time – Loser on Line!)
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