Monday, December 16, 2024

UN CHIEN ANDALOU (1929)

Seven of thirteen dentists most likely agree that Hank Williams probably never released a song called “Look at My Butt.” Collecting injustices. Squirrel sign language. Not a chance, Small Ballz. I Am a Fugitive From a Drain Gang: Or, The Illusion That Time Is Real and Milk Can Be Poured Before the Cereal. Bok-Bok 3:16. I wish I hadn’t put that pine cone up my butt for Christmas. Researchers have determined that “The Lumberjack” song by Jackyl was not featured in Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation. Yer butt is turning me on. He turned on the radio right as the announcer promised that “You’ll be eating so much gash, that you’ll be shitting squirt.” Those belong in the Smithsonian next to Corey Haim's table cloth trench coat. I talked to my grandma about this. Every time I look at the artwork for Heaven Can Wait, I think that he’s looking at his cellphone. Have you ever been kissed while in a reclining position? Dongerius Bueller's day off. Burping and thunderfarting like a werewolf.

Cousins who have hooked up with other cousins. Teen punk rock mystery novel set in an all-girl's prep school in 1985. Details involving your trip to the truck stop and your encounters with raccoons, aliens and diarrhea. Zombie attack on nudist camp. Is that Garfield shirt in regular rotation? Sven Thorneck the quattuordecsexual whaling museum curator. An orange 1986 Ford Escort. He makes up for it in the handsome taint department. Cornered by the police in a haunted house, Dymon needed to create a time machine so he drew a circle on the wooden floor with white chalk. It usually starts with polygamy. He only stinks during a full moon. Cellar door. Lol, ugh fuuuuuuckkkk it's sooo hot in Texas fuuuuuckkkk. I ate three bowls of Fiber One this morning and now I gotta go take a goddamn shit! I'm am a idiot. Music that isn't on Spotify. Waiting in line to die. The cyborg girl's pockets sagged with dead gopher meat. I want to see a serious Western about Freddy Krueger in the early 1800's.

Szilveszter Matuska's sexual desires. And my banana pants. Despite being 9 feet tall and half-extraterrestrial, nobody notices and he becomes a detective and part-time movie critic for a local newspaper. Yup the whole mountain village can see you take a krumpus. By the time they reached the Waffle House, a few crucial pieces of Catherine's innards were missing.  A demon-possessed pothole that can move at will and kills people. Odd religious sects. Have DoorDash deliver yo last meal to the cemetery. Nothing fails like prayer. I don't have one single follower for my Prowler In the Yard vs. Twenty One Pilots playlist. Anybody who doesn't have Big Challenges as their buddy in Hello Kitty Island Adventure is missing out. Polar bears engulfed in flames. I know what the human centipede did last summer. Haunt me. It was all lies. The door remains shut.

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

THE 500 POUND JERK (1973)

When his breakfast cereal is discovered to have zero nutritional value, advertising man (James Franciscus) is given three months to save the cereal or be shitcanned. Around the same time, he has car trouble and at the garage meets a goofy lummox (Alex Karras) who doesn’t even workout but can lift up a car. This gives Franciscus an idea: train this birdbrained motherfucker for a few months, then toss his ass into the 1972 Olympics, avoid getting massacred by militants, win a gold medal in weightlifting and claim that the worthless cereal is why the Mongo motherfucker is so strong. Sounds like a completely sleazeball thing to do, but that's advertising for you.

When the title “The 500 Pound Jerk” popped up on the screen, I envisioned that the movie was going to be about a 500 pound bodybuilder walking around the Olympics being a douche. Imagine Rodney Dangerfield from BACK TO SCHOOL in Rich Piana’s body.  But nope, it’s about a weightlifting move called the Clean and Jerk and the 500 pounds is weight range they are going for to win the gold medal. How lame. That was disappointing. Still, this could have been a good film if they had leaned more towards the comedy aspect. But nope once again, instead, the filmmakers eat up time by shoehorning in a boring love story about our hero and a Russian gymnast. Lame!

Promising title, boring story, good acting by James Franciscus, interesting clips of the actual 1972 Olympic Games, that one guy from A HARD DAY'S NIGHT, sluggish pace, not one single song by Destroy Boys or Haunt Me in the soundtrack, Howard Cosell, weak ending. Honestly, I don't even know why THE 500 POUND JERK was made. There's nothing to it. Worth a watch for James Franciscus fans, but that's about it.  That said, I'm about 100% convinced that somebody involved with the making of 1974's BLAZING SADDLES saw THE 500 POUND JERK because Alex Kerras plays pretty much the same character in that film but just in a cowboy hat. "Mongo only pawn in game of life." So, for that alone, I'm glad this film was made.

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

GRANNY KRAMPUS (2024)

Six family members, each duller than the next, gather together at grandmother’s country estate for Christmas. Nothing happens for a very long time, then eventually a silly-looking troll critter in a Santa suit shows up and kills a few people in extremely boring ways. The End.

I will give it to the filmmakers, GRANNY KRAMPUS is a fucking awesome name for a movie! Unfortunately, that’s where all creativity ends. The main problem I have with this film is why does it have to be so goddamn dreary? You have two depressed sisters (whose parents recently died) visiting their estranged (and creepy) grandmother who lives with her invalid, brain dead brother in a poorly lit house. Then, the adult son (who is an alcoholic and gambling addict) visits with his socially awkward, “true horror podcast” loving son who appears to have the personality of an iceberg made out of frozen three-toed sloth urine. Once together, everybody argues and acts like dickheads. Merry Christmas!

I was wide awake while watching GRANNY KRAMPUS, but even still, I started zoning in and out during these long, pointless scenes of sad people talking. Then, when the Krampus kritter finally showed up I was honestly confused for a few seconds because I had completely forgotten that I was watching a horror movie! And that’s not a joke. It really did happen. I was like “What the fuck is that thing? Oh, yeah, this is a horror movie!”

Slow pace that never goes anywhere, boring monster, weak kills, very little blood, zero gore, zero nudity, zero cheerleaders, average acting (but I do have to commend everybody cause they had literally nothing to work with), shit script, okay camerawork, pretty house, a disappearing car driver, shadow of camera on actor’s shoulder. As a horror movie, GRANNY KRAMPUS is a disappointing nothing of a movie. But as therapy, it was kinda nice. Very quiet, lots of long boring scenes, no jump scares, no ups, no downs, no surprises. It was very chill and gave me lots of time to zone out. I appreciated that. As a matter of fact, as I'm writing this, Charlie is still sleeping on the sofa. Looks like he's been shot with a tranquilizer dart.

So, should you watch GRANNY KRAMPUS? Nah, it’s a 2/10 max and totally forgettable. But…THE JACK IN THE BOX: AWAKENING is a 4/10. So that’s twice as good, right? Similar British(?) country estate setting and a much better killer.  Yeah, I know all of the Jack in the Box movies suck, but I still have faith in the series.