Sure, there are still like 9 months until Christmas, but why wait until the last minute? Now you can get official Siftin' merchandise from my Cafe Press store, www.cafepress.com/siftin.
For your convenience, there's a link over there to the left.
Right now, there are a few shirts and some other items, all painstakingly rendered by yours truly. As I think of more things, I'll add them to the store. If there's something you're just dying to buy, let me know, and I'll see if I can add it.
Just think: You end up with a sweet T-shirt, and I can take that gumball off layaway. You can't lose!
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
She's a real looker
On this trip into the Siftin' movie vault, we check out a flick that features a former Daddy Warbucks as well as a member of the Partridge Family. And there's a neato-burrito light gun that's cooler than the one you'd end up playing Duck Hunt and Hogan's Alley with. What more could you ask from a movie? Nudity? Got you covered there, too, even though this is a PG-rated movie. God bless the 1980s.
The movie in a nutshell: A plastic surgeon who has performed oddly specific surgeries on models gets in over his head when his patients start ending up dead, and evidence points to a high-tech company.
The story: The movie begins with a fake commercial for Ravish perfume, which is followed by the pretty girl from the commercial, Lisa, asking Dr. Larry Roberts (Albert Finney) for very specific (and very minor) plastic surgery. He's done three actresses with lists already, but he agrees to perform this, his fourth. His colleague comments that's she's "really a looker."
Clapclapclap.
I like movies that don't screw around. Just bam, and you're off and running. In very short order, the story is set up, one of the characters mentions the name of the movie and the theme song plays over a montage of the plastic surgery, which, for extra bonus points, includes gratuitous breastage.
Nudity in the opening credits is one of the signs of a good movie. To their credit, they do manage to wait until a whole 2:32 into the movie, and it is in the context of the story.
After the beginning credits, Lisa, post-op, answers her door, and expecting it to be her boyfriend (or maybe the pizza guy, because hey, who doesn't like a fresh Cheesy Bites Pizza?), does so in her bra and panties. She opens the door, and there's a flash, along with a whooshing sound, and she's standing there motionless.
When she snaps out of it, she finds a gun case on her bed. She wonders if someone is there. Another couple of flashes, and Lisa gets tangled in the curtains on her balcony. She falls over the side, and the mysterious gunman leaves a ballpoint pen on one of her chairs. He also leaves a button. You suppose this will mean something later?
The next day, Friday, Dr. Roberts arrives at his office and catches up on what's going on. He's got a fundraiser at Reston Industries for the pediatric burns unit, along with routine surgeries.
When this was made, they didn't have Discovery Health piped in 24-7, with such lovely programs as "Face-Saving Surgery" and "Organ Transplants from a One-Legged Pygmy Albino Wombat," so it wasn't common to see footage of plastic surgery. This explains the now-unusual focus on surgery footage in this movie.
Larry's secretary mentions that the police called, but he doesn't know what it's about. Another patient, Cindy (Susan Dey), is in his office waiting for him. She says she just got back from Tahiti.
Lt. Masters from the police department is there to ask him about two patients, Lisa Convy and Susan Wilson. They're both dead, and Masters is looking for information. Susan drove into a cement divider, and Lisa was our swan diver.
Larry asks for their files, and they're gone. Masters asks him if he'd ever visited any of his patients, and he says no. Masters offers him the pen that was found in Lisa's apartment. Oh noes! It's Larry's pen! Even more mysterious, after Masters leaves, he finds that all the files of the girls with lists are gone.
As if on cue, Tina, another former patient, comes to him and tells him that "they" are killing all the perfect patients. She wants to be changed back. She asks if a big man with a mustache has been there before wigging out and leaving.
She leaves her purse in Larry's office. He finds a vial of cocaine and a list from a firm called Digital Matrix Inc. He has his secretary call Lt. Masters to let him know he's going to Tina's apartment.
At Tina's, we see her get flashed with the light. Larry gets there just in time to see her land on his car (I gave her a 9.7. She would've gotten the 10 but her legs split near the end) while he's looking her up on the building directory. He looks up and sees the "big man with a mustache" (and white man's fro, I should add) wearing silvery wraparound sunglasses that look like the Oakleys the bemulleted jocks used to wear when I was in high school.
Lt. Masters arrives, and he doesn't believe Larry's story.
Larry realizes that Cindy is the next on the list of girls, so he goes to find her. She's at a photo shoot. He asks Cindy to go to the fundraiser with him.
Mr. Reston (James Coburn) is eager to meet Larry, and they chat for a while. Reston offers to donate $4 million to Larry's burn-unit project. Over dinner, Reston mentions that he heard about the models' deaths. Larry mentions the link they had with Digital Matrix, which, surprise surprise, is a subsidiary of Reston Industries.
Reston and the head of Digital Matrix, Jennifer Long (Leigh Taylor-Young) wonder if Larry suspects anything.
The next day, Larry hangs out with Cindy while she's on a commercial shoot, which is being directed by computer more than by the actual director. She does take after take, trying to match what the computer wants. Larry checks out the Digital Matrix truck that's on site. Two guys are monitoring where the computer is projecting where Cindy should be in the frame. When they see Larry, they shut the truck door on him.
The commercial director says that Cindy needs to be measured by Digital Matrix. Larry accompanies her, and whle he's waiting for her, Long shows him around.
One of the things they do, she says, is track viewers' pupilary responses to regular commercials. Larry tries it out. The computer recreates the commercial to reposition the product where he was looking.
Cindy is off to get scanned by the computer because she is "perfect in her category." She has to disrobe and stand buck-naked on a platform in the middle of a big room filled with a bunch of machines. The platform drops into one of the machines, and it's there that she gets scanned. This takes forever; she stands on the rotating platform like she's being microwaved.
They are trying to create computer-generated models based on live models. He watches the computer process the audio, and the CG-Cindy says over and over, "I'm the perfect female type, 18 to 25. I'm here to sell for you."
After Larry leaves, Long and Reston discuss Larry and the fact that he swiped a security card. Long says they should search his place with the Looker device. She adds that they already took his file, pen and button without anyone knowing about it (thanks for the pitch to us slower viewers). He agrees but tells her to be careful.
Back at Larry's place, Cindy finds out that she's the only Digital Matrix model who had the special surgery who isn't dead. Larry says he's going to take care of her, but she wants to visit her parents and get some things first.
Her parents are mesmerized by an I Love Lucy rerun.
Back at Larry's place, the guy with the white man fro (played by Tim Rossovich, the character is called Moustache Man in the credits. I will call him Fro-Guy) is back. He blasts Larry a few times with the Looker gun and a few hours pass.
It doesn't have anything to do with the plot, but one of the commercials in the background boasts the immortal line, "Constipation is nothing to sneeze at."
Indeed.
Cindy returns and asks him what happened.
They go back to Reston Industries to take a look at the Looker Lab, since that was the only place he wasn't allowed in. The security card he pilfered won't let him into the main Looker Lab. Fro-guy is hanging out with the guard, and he sees the access card being used. He goes to check it out.
After a close call with a janitor bot, they resume their search for an entrance into the Looker Lab. Larry suspects that the janitor bot is their way in. They hitch a ride on it through the door. He finds a binder on a desk, and sees that Looker stands for "Light Ocular-Oriented Kinetic Emotive Responses."
That reminds me, I'm starting a school. It's called Siftin' Central Randy Educators and Wombats University, or just, well, I think you can connect the dots there.
Cindy watches one of the commercials playing on a monitor in the lab, and after watching for a minute, gets hypnotized and starts chanting "I want it." Strangely, the commercial is not about me or the blog.
The light pulse in the commercial is also the basis of the Looker gun. While Larry is explaining the weapon, Fro-guy is preparing to strike. He blasts Larry with the gun and beats the crap out of him. All the while, commercials are playing in the background. There's a nice slo-mo shot of Larry flying through a window. Fro-guy goes to shoot him again, but he's wearing the protective shades. Larry takes the gun and shoots him. While he's stunned, Larry uses his years of extensive ninja training and kicks him in the nads.
Cindy comes to, and they leave, setting off the alarm. Reston is getting ready for his big show, and he orders Larry to be eliminated.
While Cindy rests back at his office, Larry investigates a mysterious noise, Looker gun in hand. He goes to his office to call Lt. Masters but stops. He hears a noise again. He opens a door and sees smoke, which can diffuse the Looker effect. Cindy has been taken by some guys with machine guns.
He grabs a scapel out of a drawer and waits for his attackers. He cuts one of them, and they leave.
Sunday: Lt. Masters surveys Larry's office. Larry is out on the road, and Fro-guy is trying to flash him with the Looker gun while he's driving. Larry is so intent on his attackers that he almost plows down a pack of nuns, because as we all know, nuns are always crossing the street. That's all they do, apparently.
They manage to get a shot on him, and he wakes up in a park fountain with a bunch of people staring at him. When the police arrive, he's already sneaking away. A lady rats on him, but not before he hops in to the back of a police car. As it turns out, it's a Reston Industries security car. Sugar Bear Security says they have to keep him quiet until the big reception.
Larry finds that they don't know about Looker, so he zaps them and steals a uniform. He walks by Lt. Masters, who sees him but doesn't do anything. He narrowly avoids being spotted by Fro-guy.
Meanwhile, Cindy is being held by Long in a control room.
Reston is making his spiel about his new commercials with computer-generated actors while Larry is making his way up. Fro-guy catches him, but he gets away quickly.
While the presentation is going, Reston and Fro-guy head upstairs to get Larry. Larry ends up in a computerized studio. Now it's a cat-and-mouse game while the commercials are on.
One of the commercials features a CGI senator who is a candidate for the presidency. Did they kill him and replace him with this CGI version?
Another commercial features Cindy as a housewife. Larry pops up, much to the audience's amusement. Fro-guy sees Long behind a screen trying to get to Larry. Not knowing it's her, he shoots her. Before she dies, goes back up to the control room.
Fro-guy shoots at everything that moves, including a camera. Reston shoots at Larry but hits Fro-Guy dead in the forehead instead. While a commercial is being shot and being fed to the audience.
Fro-guy falls on a table that is to be used in the next commercial, which provides a humorous bit in which the kids are complaining about having to eat the same old breakfast -- while there's a dead guy on the table. The dad in the commercial also played the dad in Small Wonder.
Reston finds Long dead and goes back out to look for Larry. There's some more cat-and-mouse-osity between the two of them. Meanwhile, Lt. Masters is looking for Reston. As Reston shoots at Larry, Masters shoots Reston, who dies during a commercial for Spurt Toothpaste.
Larry and Cindy walk off the set together, without Masters asking and questions or even appearing again. The end.
Kthxbye.
Afterthoughts: The announcer in the Ravish commercial at the beginning sounds an awful lot like John Erwin, who did the voice for Morris the Cat and He-Man. And I missed her, but Vanna White is supposedly among the Reston Industries girls. That means she's been in two movies on the Bad Movies From A to Z list, having also appeared in Graduation Day. Kudos to her.
You know, this isn't half bad. Well, okay, it's half bad. But it's still kind of a neat idea for the time. It probably doesn't seem like much of a stretch having computer-generated models now as much as it did when this came out. But here's my thought: If they can place the computer models in the real set, why don't they use CG sets, too? Wouldn't that be easier and cheaper? It's like they thought partly ahead but didn't go all the way with the idea.
Of course, if they didn't use real sets, they wouldn't have had the big chase/shootout at the end, would they?
The entry for this movie on IMDB says that there's 15 minutes of extra footage that features Larry and Cindy trying to figure out Reston's motives for killing the models. That would've been nice to include on the DVD, because there are a lot of unresolved threads like that.
What was up with Senator Harrison?
Since he was in a Digital Matrix-produced ad, is he dead or is it just an example of RI's technology? Are we to assume that if he won the presidency, Reston would essentially be in charge, controlling this puppet president? That might work for TV appearances, but somebody's bound to notice that the guy is never in the Oval Office or making public appearances. And how did they talk him into undergoing the scanning process? It makes sense for a model, but why would a senator do it?
And at the beginning, his office called Larry to (presumably) get some work done. Given that he shows up later in a Digital Matrix commercial, did he get the work done somewhere else so he could be scanned into the system? If he was calling Larry on Friday, there's no way he would've been able to get the necessary work done, let alone heal enough to be scanned, killed and in the system by Sunday.
I also am skeptical about making changes to the millimeter. I know surgeons are good, but isn't healing a relatively inexact science? I've obviously never gotten any plastic surgery done (why mess with perfection itself?), so I'm not sure.
The models in the commercials supposedly emit a hypnotic pulse from their eyes, similar to the one the Looker gun produces. I'm assuming it's slightly different, as putting viewers into a motionless trance would keep them from seeing the commercial, right? Cindy seems hypnotized when she sees one of the commercials, which makes more sense. I just don't see why the gun is necessary, other than -- again -- to serve the ending and have a neat gimmick.
This reminds me a lot in terms of tone and general meh-ness of another Crichton effort, Runaway, which starred Tom Selleck. They're both decent enough way to pass the time, and they have a handful of memorable gimmicks and scenes, but the futuristic aspect doesn't hold up after a moment's thought. They end up coming off as being a bit sloppy.
Bonus points, though, for casting Susan Dey as a model. There's a shot when Cindy is at her parents' house where she walks by a bunch of pictures on the wall that appear to be from her actual modeling days.
I can't help but think that with a little effort, this could be remade, at the very least as a Sci-Fi Original. It's got some good stuff, but there's not enough story to go along with it. That's why they added the nudity, presumably. Gotta keep you paying attention, right?
This is a technique used to much less subtle effect (there's a character billed as Knothole Girl because the main character sees her chestal regions through a hole in a fence, and that's pretty much all there is to her part) in the movie I'll be looking at next time, Microwave Massacre.
You've been warned.
The movie in a nutshell: A plastic surgeon who has performed oddly specific surgeries on models gets in over his head when his patients start ending up dead, and evidence points to a high-tech company.
The story: The movie begins with a fake commercial for Ravish perfume, which is followed by the pretty girl from the commercial, Lisa, asking Dr. Larry Roberts (Albert Finney) for very specific (and very minor) plastic surgery. He's done three actresses with lists already, but he agrees to perform this, his fourth. His colleague comments that's she's "really a looker."Clapclapclap.
I like movies that don't screw around. Just bam, and you're off and running. In very short order, the story is set up, one of the characters mentions the name of the movie and the theme song plays over a montage of the plastic surgery, which, for extra bonus points, includes gratuitous breastage.
Nudity in the opening credits is one of the signs of a good movie. To their credit, they do manage to wait until a whole 2:32 into the movie, and it is in the context of the story.
After the beginning credits, Lisa, post-op, answers her door, and expecting it to be her boyfriend (or maybe the pizza guy, because hey, who doesn't like a fresh Cheesy Bites Pizza?), does so in her bra and panties. She opens the door, and there's a flash, along with a whooshing sound, and she's standing there motionless.
When she snaps out of it, she finds a gun case on her bed. She wonders if someone is there. Another couple of flashes, and Lisa gets tangled in the curtains on her balcony. She falls over the side, and the mysterious gunman leaves a ballpoint pen on one of her chairs. He also leaves a button. You suppose this will mean something later?
The next day, Friday, Dr. Roberts arrives at his office and catches up on what's going on. He's got a fundraiser at Reston Industries for the pediatric burns unit, along with routine surgeries.
When this was made, they didn't have Discovery Health piped in 24-7, with such lovely programs as "Face-Saving Surgery" and "Organ Transplants from a One-Legged Pygmy Albino Wombat," so it wasn't common to see footage of plastic surgery. This explains the now-unusual focus on surgery footage in this movie.
Larry's secretary mentions that the police called, but he doesn't know what it's about. Another patient, Cindy (Susan Dey), is in his office waiting for him. She says she just got back from Tahiti.
Lt. Masters from the police department is there to ask him about two patients, Lisa Convy and Susan Wilson. They're both dead, and Masters is looking for information. Susan drove into a cement divider, and Lisa was our swan diver.
Larry asks for their files, and they're gone. Masters asks him if he'd ever visited any of his patients, and he says no. Masters offers him the pen that was found in Lisa's apartment. Oh noes! It's Larry's pen! Even more mysterious, after Masters leaves, he finds that all the files of the girls with lists are gone.
As if on cue, Tina, another former patient, comes to him and tells him that "they" are killing all the perfect patients. She wants to be changed back. She asks if a big man with a mustache has been there before wigging out and leaving.
She leaves her purse in Larry's office. He finds a vial of cocaine and a list from a firm called Digital Matrix Inc. He has his secretary call Lt. Masters to let him know he's going to Tina's apartment.
At Tina's, we see her get flashed with the light. Larry gets there just in time to see her land on his car (I gave her a 9.7. She would've gotten the 10 but her legs split near the end) while he's looking her up on the building directory. He looks up and sees the "big man with a mustache" (and white man's fro, I should add) wearing silvery wraparound sunglasses that look like the Oakleys the bemulleted jocks used to wear when I was in high school.
Lt. Masters arrives, and he doesn't believe Larry's story.
Larry realizes that Cindy is the next on the list of girls, so he goes to find her. She's at a photo shoot. He asks Cindy to go to the fundraiser with him.
Mr. Reston (James Coburn) is eager to meet Larry, and they chat for a while. Reston offers to donate $4 million to Larry's burn-unit project. Over dinner, Reston mentions that he heard about the models' deaths. Larry mentions the link they had with Digital Matrix, which, surprise surprise, is a subsidiary of Reston Industries.
Reston and the head of Digital Matrix, Jennifer Long (Leigh Taylor-Young) wonder if Larry suspects anything.
The next day, Larry hangs out with Cindy while she's on a commercial shoot, which is being directed by computer more than by the actual director. She does take after take, trying to match what the computer wants. Larry checks out the Digital Matrix truck that's on site. Two guys are monitoring where the computer is projecting where Cindy should be in the frame. When they see Larry, they shut the truck door on him.
The commercial director says that Cindy needs to be measured by Digital Matrix. Larry accompanies her, and whle he's waiting for her, Long shows him around.
One of the things they do, she says, is track viewers' pupilary responses to regular commercials. Larry tries it out. The computer recreates the commercial to reposition the product where he was looking.
Cindy is off to get scanned by the computer because she is "perfect in her category." She has to disrobe and stand buck-naked on a platform in the middle of a big room filled with a bunch of machines. The platform drops into one of the machines, and it's there that she gets scanned. This takes forever; she stands on the rotating platform like she's being microwaved.
They are trying to create computer-generated models based on live models. He watches the computer process the audio, and the CG-Cindy says over and over, "I'm the perfect female type, 18 to 25. I'm here to sell for you."After Larry leaves, Long and Reston discuss Larry and the fact that he swiped a security card. Long says they should search his place with the Looker device. She adds that they already took his file, pen and button without anyone knowing about it (thanks for the pitch to us slower viewers). He agrees but tells her to be careful.
Back at Larry's place, Cindy finds out that she's the only Digital Matrix model who had the special surgery who isn't dead. Larry says he's going to take care of her, but she wants to visit her parents and get some things first.
Her parents are mesmerized by an I Love Lucy rerun.
Back at Larry's place, the guy with the white man fro (played by Tim Rossovich, the character is called Moustache Man in the credits. I will call him Fro-Guy) is back. He blasts Larry a few times with the Looker gun and a few hours pass. It doesn't have anything to do with the plot, but one of the commercials in the background boasts the immortal line, "Constipation is nothing to sneeze at."
Indeed.
Cindy returns and asks him what happened.
They go back to Reston Industries to take a look at the Looker Lab, since that was the only place he wasn't allowed in. The security card he pilfered won't let him into the main Looker Lab. Fro-guy is hanging out with the guard, and he sees the access card being used. He goes to check it out.
After a close call with a janitor bot, they resume their search for an entrance into the Looker Lab. Larry suspects that the janitor bot is their way in. They hitch a ride on it through the door. He finds a binder on a desk, and sees that Looker stands for "Light Ocular-Oriented Kinetic Emotive Responses."
That reminds me, I'm starting a school. It's called Siftin' Central Randy Educators and Wombats University, or just, well, I think you can connect the dots there.
Cindy watches one of the commercials playing on a monitor in the lab, and after watching for a minute, gets hypnotized and starts chanting "I want it." Strangely, the commercial is not about me or the blog.
The light pulse in the commercial is also the basis of the Looker gun. While Larry is explaining the weapon, Fro-guy is preparing to strike. He blasts Larry with the gun and beats the crap out of him. All the while, commercials are playing in the background. There's a nice slo-mo shot of Larry flying through a window. Fro-guy goes to shoot him again, but he's wearing the protective shades. Larry takes the gun and shoots him. While he's stunned, Larry uses his years of extensive ninja training and kicks him in the nads.Cindy comes to, and they leave, setting off the alarm. Reston is getting ready for his big show, and he orders Larry to be eliminated.
While Cindy rests back at his office, Larry investigates a mysterious noise, Looker gun in hand. He goes to his office to call Lt. Masters but stops. He hears a noise again. He opens a door and sees smoke, which can diffuse the Looker effect. Cindy has been taken by some guys with machine guns.
He grabs a scapel out of a drawer and waits for his attackers. He cuts one of them, and they leave.
Sunday: Lt. Masters surveys Larry's office. Larry is out on the road, and Fro-guy is trying to flash him with the Looker gun while he's driving. Larry is so intent on his attackers that he almost plows down a pack of nuns, because as we all know, nuns are always crossing the street. That's all they do, apparently.
They manage to get a shot on him, and he wakes up in a park fountain with a bunch of people staring at him. When the police arrive, he's already sneaking away. A lady rats on him, but not before he hops in to the back of a police car. As it turns out, it's a Reston Industries security car. Sugar Bear Security says they have to keep him quiet until the big reception.
Larry finds that they don't know about Looker, so he zaps them and steals a uniform. He walks by Lt. Masters, who sees him but doesn't do anything. He narrowly avoids being spotted by Fro-guy.
Meanwhile, Cindy is being held by Long in a control room.
Reston is making his spiel about his new commercials with computer-generated actors while Larry is making his way up. Fro-guy catches him, but he gets away quickly.
While the presentation is going, Reston and Fro-guy head upstairs to get Larry. Larry ends up in a computerized studio. Now it's a cat-and-mouse game while the commercials are on.
One of the commercials features a CGI senator who is a candidate for the presidency. Did they kill him and replace him with this CGI version?
Another commercial features Cindy as a housewife. Larry pops up, much to the audience's amusement. Fro-guy sees Long behind a screen trying to get to Larry. Not knowing it's her, he shoots her. Before she dies, goes back up to the control room.
Fro-guy shoots at everything that moves, including a camera. Reston shoots at Larry but hits Fro-Guy dead in the forehead instead. While a commercial is being shot and being fed to the audience.
Fro-guy falls on a table that is to be used in the next commercial, which provides a humorous bit in which the kids are complaining about having to eat the same old breakfast -- while there's a dead guy on the table. The dad in the commercial also played the dad in Small Wonder.Reston finds Long dead and goes back out to look for Larry. There's some more cat-and-mouse-osity between the two of them. Meanwhile, Lt. Masters is looking for Reston. As Reston shoots at Larry, Masters shoots Reston, who dies during a commercial for Spurt Toothpaste.
Larry and Cindy walk off the set together, without Masters asking and questions or even appearing again. The end.
Kthxbye.
Afterthoughts: The announcer in the Ravish commercial at the beginning sounds an awful lot like John Erwin, who did the voice for Morris the Cat and He-Man. And I missed her, but Vanna White is supposedly among the Reston Industries girls. That means she's been in two movies on the Bad Movies From A to Z list, having also appeared in Graduation Day. Kudos to her.
You know, this isn't half bad. Well, okay, it's half bad. But it's still kind of a neat idea for the time. It probably doesn't seem like much of a stretch having computer-generated models now as much as it did when this came out. But here's my thought: If they can place the computer models in the real set, why don't they use CG sets, too? Wouldn't that be easier and cheaper? It's like they thought partly ahead but didn't go all the way with the idea.
Of course, if they didn't use real sets, they wouldn't have had the big chase/shootout at the end, would they?
The entry for this movie on IMDB says that there's 15 minutes of extra footage that features Larry and Cindy trying to figure out Reston's motives for killing the models. That would've been nice to include on the DVD, because there are a lot of unresolved threads like that.
What was up with Senator Harrison?
Since he was in a Digital Matrix-produced ad, is he dead or is it just an example of RI's technology? Are we to assume that if he won the presidency, Reston would essentially be in charge, controlling this puppet president? That might work for TV appearances, but somebody's bound to notice that the guy is never in the Oval Office or making public appearances. And how did they talk him into undergoing the scanning process? It makes sense for a model, but why would a senator do it?
And at the beginning, his office called Larry to (presumably) get some work done. Given that he shows up later in a Digital Matrix commercial, did he get the work done somewhere else so he could be scanned into the system? If he was calling Larry on Friday, there's no way he would've been able to get the necessary work done, let alone heal enough to be scanned, killed and in the system by Sunday.
I also am skeptical about making changes to the millimeter. I know surgeons are good, but isn't healing a relatively inexact science? I've obviously never gotten any plastic surgery done (why mess with perfection itself?), so I'm not sure.
The models in the commercials supposedly emit a hypnotic pulse from their eyes, similar to the one the Looker gun produces. I'm assuming it's slightly different, as putting viewers into a motionless trance would keep them from seeing the commercial, right? Cindy seems hypnotized when she sees one of the commercials, which makes more sense. I just don't see why the gun is necessary, other than -- again -- to serve the ending and have a neat gimmick.
This reminds me a lot in terms of tone and general meh-ness of another Crichton effort, Runaway, which starred Tom Selleck. They're both decent enough way to pass the time, and they have a handful of memorable gimmicks and scenes, but the futuristic aspect doesn't hold up after a moment's thought. They end up coming off as being a bit sloppy.
Bonus points, though, for casting Susan Dey as a model. There's a shot when Cindy is at her parents' house where she walks by a bunch of pictures on the wall that appear to be from her actual modeling days.
I can't help but think that with a little effort, this could be remade, at the very least as a Sci-Fi Original. It's got some good stuff, but there's not enough story to go along with it. That's why they added the nudity, presumably. Gotta keep you paying attention, right?
This is a technique used to much less subtle effect (there's a character billed as Knothole Girl because the main character sees her chestal regions through a hole in a fence, and that's pretty much all there is to her part) in the movie I'll be looking at next time, Microwave Massacre.
You've been warned.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Hats off
I find that I have to resist the temptation to buy things at antique stores and thrift stores solely to talk about on the blog.
That said, here's a picture I snapped with my phone of a hat that I really wanted but couldn't justify spending $7.99 on, especially when I'd never be allowed to wear it.
That said, here's a picture I snapped with my phone of a hat that I really wanted but couldn't justify spending $7.99 on, especially when I'd never be allowed to wear it.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Open your eyes and hear the magic
It's been a good few months or so for the old craphunter. I already found a copy of the Sgt. Pepper movie soundtrack with the swanky poster inside.
And now, while at the antique mall with my parents, I managed to find another crap movie artifact -- one I didn't even know existed.
I play a little bit of piano. Not well, but good enough that my son can recognize songs. Well, now I can wow him with my own renditions of the songs from Xanadu.
W00t.
Check it out:
And for only three-and-a-half bucks, I couldn't pass it up.
I don't know if I've ever explained my love for the stupid movie. When I was younger, we babysat a girl from my class. She was a little older than me, and consequently, bossy. Third-graders, you know? Our class was structured so we didn't have homework, and every now and then, we'd watch a movie, because we were one of the few families who had a VCR at the time.
My favorite movie was Superman II, where hers was Xanadu. So to avoid arguments, we alternated who got to pick the movie. In truth, it wasn't torture for me to watch Xanadu, even though I certainly made her think so. I liked the ELO songs in particular, and I also thought Olivia Newton-John was a fox.
So over the course of a few weeks, I ended up watching it roughly 70,000 times. I owned the soundtrack album, to boot. It took up permanent residence in the nooks and crannies of my brain, where it lives today, over two decades later.
I'd go into more detail, but I have to save it for when I get up to X for Bad Movies From A to Z. Hey, it was either that or Xtro.
To whet your appetite, here's the trailer.
And now, while at the antique mall with my parents, I managed to find another crap movie artifact -- one I didn't even know existed.
I play a little bit of piano. Not well, but good enough that my son can recognize songs. Well, now I can wow him with my own renditions of the songs from Xanadu.
W00t.
Check it out:
And for only three-and-a-half bucks, I couldn't pass it up.
I don't know if I've ever explained my love for the stupid movie. When I was younger, we babysat a girl from my class. She was a little older than me, and consequently, bossy. Third-graders, you know? Our class was structured so we didn't have homework, and every now and then, we'd watch a movie, because we were one of the few families who had a VCR at the time.
My favorite movie was Superman II, where hers was Xanadu. So to avoid arguments, we alternated who got to pick the movie. In truth, it wasn't torture for me to watch Xanadu, even though I certainly made her think so. I liked the ELO songs in particular, and I also thought Olivia Newton-John was a fox.
So over the course of a few weeks, I ended up watching it roughly 70,000 times. I owned the soundtrack album, to boot. It took up permanent residence in the nooks and crannies of my brain, where it lives today, over two decades later.
I'd go into more detail, but I have to save it for when I get up to X for Bad Movies From A to Z. Hey, it was either that or Xtro.
To whet your appetite, here's the trailer.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Only three feet tall
If I were smart, I'd've just read the link and moved along. But no, I'm a moron, so I clicked on it. I managed to avoid hearing but a few seconds of it in years past, but I was intrigued.
Lost footage?
I'm a sucker for the lure of the forbidden, what can I say?
Via the fine folks at PCL LinkDump, I give you the Lost Footage of The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.
Oh, you're welcome.
Lost footage?
I'm a sucker for the lure of the forbidden, what can I say?
Via the fine folks at PCL LinkDump, I give you the Lost Footage of The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.
Oh, you're welcome.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
I'll buy that for a dollar...
A while back I hit a thrift store with my dad, and I came across not one, but two copies of the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band original movie soundtrack.
Hot diggety, I'm sure you're saying to yourself.
I still have some love for that movie despite it being horrible on par with Xanadu. And of course, I love that movie, too. I have no shame. Plus, I had the soundtrack (to both, actually), and I listened to it a lot.
I bought the better looking of the two albums (along with some other records -- they were a buck a piece), and when I looked inside, I found both records in their original sleeves, as well as the super-mega-radical poster.
Gaze upon my poster ye mighty and despair:
W00t!
Man, if I wasn't already married, I'm sure that poster would make all the women swoon for me. Well, that and the male pattern baldness.
Add to this my swanky Atari cartridge holder, purchased the same day:
Not bad for a day's work.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
By the same token
Good ol' Wil Wheaton discusses video arcades, and if you are close to my age, you'll probably be awash in memories of plunking down quarter after quarter into your favorite video games.
Due mostly to matters of location and age, my video gaming wasn't so much in actual dedicated video arcades, but Chuck E. Cheese, which I guess you could qualify as a video arcade that just happened to sell pizza.
Man, you'd parcel the tokens you got with the pizza very carefully. Was it worth it to drop 2 tokens to play Star Wars in a cockpit instead of playing the upright version for a single token? (Totally.) And what about waiting in line to spend God-only-knows-how-much on Dragon's Lair, where 2 tokens lasted roughly twice as many seconds?
While Ye Olde Pizza Time Theatre may have not been a bona fide arcade, it definitely had the social aspect that Wil talks about. I've never been remotely close to being social, but I played against total strangers without much thought. That's how you learned. Well, you could stand around watching, too, but that wasn't as much fun.
My friend Chris Myers showed me how you could skip ahead on "Crystal Castles" on the first level by going behind the castle and jumping. I'd never have figured that out on my own. That was what we had instead of the Internet: Word of mouth.
My family moved to Tracy in 1985, only a few months after I turned 10. At the time, Tracy was a very small place. The newspaper came out three times a week, which I didn't even know was allowed. We got channels 2 through 13 and Showtime. No MTV. Not for a year or so, anyway. The only bright spot was that Tracy had a Chuck E. Cheese, and it was just down the street.
And when there was a school event, birthday party or Friday night hangout place, you could bet that you'd end up at Chuck E. Cheese. For the first few years I lived there, it was the de facto community center.
The Tracy Chuck E. Cheese is still my favorite. It wasn't the biggest, it didn't have many of the newest games, and the last few years before it closed, it was pretty terrible, but I still smile when I think about it.
I have a vague memory of going there for some school event, maybe fifth-grade graduation or something. We got there when they were opening; they hadn't turned on the video games yet. We were in the arcade area when they did, and it's a sound I'll never forget. Silence, then a giant KA-THUNK, and then the cacophony of all the games cycling through their self-tests and coming to life. Just underneath all that, there was the distinctly metal clinking sound of a token being returned.
I checked the coin return of the machine closest to me and found that it had indeed ejected a token. I was struck by two thoughts:
and
Every Friday night, the game room of Chuck E. Cheese was packed with junior high school students, and the drama that they could produce in massive quantities. Relationships were forged and broken in that game room, whether it was winning something for a girl thanks to your Skee-Ball prowess, or as many seemed to do, sharing a kiss or a discrete smoke in the hidey-hole cutout room designed for the preschool set.
I was, not surprisingly, excluded from that whole phenomenon. But I heard about a lot of it Monday morning in Math Lab.
The fun ended when they blocked the entrance to the secret room.
Later in middle school, QuikStop was our after-school stop of choice for a few months. We spent the GNP of Papua New Guinea on "The Real Ghostbusters" game. I usually had the least amount of change, so I'd bow out relatively quickly, but my friends hung in there for a good minute or so longer.
I stopped checking out arcades when all the Mortal Kombat stuff came out. It's not that I didn't like the violence; I just didn't give a crap about mashing buttons to do special moves. Plus, you know, with the home systems doing pretty well, it just didn't seem to make sense.
I still check out the local arcade at the mall, but it's mostly for my son, who loves the bowling games and stuff like that. I think I'd drop dead if I played Dance Dance Revolution, either from embarrassment over my mad dance skillz or a myocardial infarction.
Due mostly to matters of location and age, my video gaming wasn't so much in actual dedicated video arcades, but Chuck E. Cheese, which I guess you could qualify as a video arcade that just happened to sell pizza.
Man, you'd parcel the tokens you got with the pizza very carefully. Was it worth it to drop 2 tokens to play Star Wars in a cockpit instead of playing the upright version for a single token? (Totally.) And what about waiting in line to spend God-only-knows-how-much on Dragon's Lair, where 2 tokens lasted roughly twice as many seconds?
While Ye Olde Pizza Time Theatre may have not been a bona fide arcade, it definitely had the social aspect that Wil talks about. I've never been remotely close to being social, but I played against total strangers without much thought. That's how you learned. Well, you could stand around watching, too, but that wasn't as much fun.
My friend Chris Myers showed me how you could skip ahead on "Crystal Castles" on the first level by going behind the castle and jumping. I'd never have figured that out on my own. That was what we had instead of the Internet: Word of mouth.
My family moved to Tracy in 1985, only a few months after I turned 10. At the time, Tracy was a very small place. The newspaper came out three times a week, which I didn't even know was allowed. We got channels 2 through 13 and Showtime. No MTV. Not for a year or so, anyway. The only bright spot was that Tracy had a Chuck E. Cheese, and it was just down the street.
And when there was a school event, birthday party or Friday night hangout place, you could bet that you'd end up at Chuck E. Cheese. For the first few years I lived there, it was the de facto community center.
The Tracy Chuck E. Cheese is still my favorite. It wasn't the biggest, it didn't have many of the newest games, and the last few years before it closed, it was pretty terrible, but I still smile when I think about it.
I have a vague memory of going there for some school event, maybe fifth-grade graduation or something. We got there when they were opening; they hadn't turned on the video games yet. We were in the arcade area when they did, and it's a sound I'll never forget. Silence, then a giant KA-THUNK, and then the cacophony of all the games cycling through their self-tests and coming to life. Just underneath all that, there was the distinctly metal clinking sound of a token being returned.
I checked the coin return of the machine closest to me and found that it had indeed ejected a token. I was struck by two thoughts:
Did every machine discharge a token? (Darn near, as I recall)
and
Even arcade games liked to drop a deuce first thing in the morning. They were just like people.
Every Friday night, the game room of Chuck E. Cheese was packed with junior high school students, and the drama that they could produce in massive quantities. Relationships were forged and broken in that game room, whether it was winning something for a girl thanks to your Skee-Ball prowess, or as many seemed to do, sharing a kiss or a discrete smoke in the hidey-hole cutout room designed for the preschool set.
I was, not surprisingly, excluded from that whole phenomenon. But I heard about a lot of it Monday morning in Math Lab.
The fun ended when they blocked the entrance to the secret room.
Later in middle school, QuikStop was our after-school stop of choice for a few months. We spent the GNP of Papua New Guinea on "The Real Ghostbusters" game. I usually had the least amount of change, so I'd bow out relatively quickly, but my friends hung in there for a good minute or so longer.
I stopped checking out arcades when all the Mortal Kombat stuff came out. It's not that I didn't like the violence; I just didn't give a crap about mashing buttons to do special moves. Plus, you know, with the home systems doing pretty well, it just didn't seem to make sense.
I still check out the local arcade at the mall, but it's mostly for my son, who loves the bowling games and stuff like that. I think I'd drop dead if I played Dance Dance Revolution, either from embarrassment over my mad dance skillz or a myocardial infarction.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
You say "shill" like it's a bad thing...
You may notice if you scroll all the way to the bottom of the movie reviews that there are now links to Amazon.com in case you want to buy the movies and see if they are as I described them.
Theoretically, if someone buys a whole bunch of DVDs, I get a gift certificate for a candy bar or something.
I tried to make them as inobtrusive as possible. If they get really annoying, let me know. I may add other links as I see appropriate, but I promise I won't blog about something solely to put up a link to something insanely expensive (though if you are a video-game freak, check out the link at the bottom).
In the coming weeks, there will be other additions to the old blog. In fact, there's a good chance that you'll be able to get your own official Siftin' swag, because, let's be honest, it's never too early for Christmas shopping.
My son Brody is pitching in. He already came up with a great slogan (I'm totally not kidding; he actually said this): "Choosy mothers choose Jeff."
My little marketer.
Theoretically, if someone buys a whole bunch of DVDs, I get a gift certificate for a candy bar or something.
I tried to make them as inobtrusive as possible. If they get really annoying, let me know. I may add other links as I see appropriate, but I promise I won't blog about something solely to put up a link to something insanely expensive (though if you are a video-game freak, check out the link at the bottom).
In the coming weeks, there will be other additions to the old blog. In fact, there's a good chance that you'll be able to get your own official Siftin' swag, because, let's be honest, it's never too early for Christmas shopping.
My son Brody is pitching in. He already came up with a great slogan (I'm totally not kidding; he actually said this): "Choosy mothers choose Jeff."
My little marketer.
Bad Movies From A to Z: When monkey die, everybody cry
King Kong Lives
Sometimes it's not enough to make a remake that no one asked for. Sometimes you have to make a sequel that no one asked for to a remake that no one asked for. Hence, theater screens everywhere were treated to one of the best movies to feature a giant gorilla blood transfusion, "King Kong Lives."
The movie in a nutshell: Kong meets Lady Kong.
The story: We open with a flashback from the 1976 Kong remake where Kong climbs one of the Twin Towers. A trio of copters shoot Kong, and he falls to the ground below. We were to assume that he died.
Atlantic Institute, Georgia, ten years later...
It looks like old Kong is being kept alive by a giant artificial heart. Dr. Amy Franklin (Linda Hamilton) tells a group of people that the project isn't working. The heart, she is reminded, cost 7 million dollars, but it took too long to create. He's been comatose too long. If they cut him open now, he'll die. He needs a transfusion.
Meanwhile, in Borneo, Hank Mitchell finds another Kong -- a female. He calls the Atlanta Institute, but when Franklin finds out that it's a lady Kong, she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything that could upset him during the recuperation. Against Franklin's recommendation, they make a deal with Mitchell.
They bring Lady Kong to the states, and after a brief press conference, they've got her set up to give blood for Kong's operation. Franklin and her team are ready to implant the artificial heart into Kong.
At this point, the DVD refused to play any further, thus sparing me from having to watch the rest of the movie. I slipped it back in its envelope and sent it back to Netflix.
Afterthoughts: I saw this in the theater when it came out, so I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. In fact, I felt a little relieved that I didn't have to sit through it.
Thus endeth the shortest review so far.
Sometimes it's not enough to make a remake that no one asked for. Sometimes you have to make a sequel that no one asked for to a remake that no one asked for. Hence, theater screens everywhere were treated to one of the best movies to feature a giant gorilla blood transfusion, "King Kong Lives."
The movie in a nutshell: Kong meets Lady Kong.
The story: We open with a flashback from the 1976 Kong remake where Kong climbs one of the Twin Towers. A trio of copters shoot Kong, and he falls to the ground below. We were to assume that he died.
Atlantic Institute, Georgia, ten years later...
It looks like old Kong is being kept alive by a giant artificial heart. Dr. Amy Franklin (Linda Hamilton) tells a group of people that the project isn't working. The heart, she is reminded, cost 7 million dollars, but it took too long to create. He's been comatose too long. If they cut him open now, he'll die. He needs a transfusion.
Meanwhile, in Borneo, Hank Mitchell finds another Kong -- a female. He calls the Atlanta Institute, but when Franklin finds out that it's a lady Kong, she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything that could upset him during the recuperation. Against Franklin's recommendation, they make a deal with Mitchell.
They bring Lady Kong to the states, and after a brief press conference, they've got her set up to give blood for Kong's operation. Franklin and her team are ready to implant the artificial heart into Kong.
At this point, the DVD refused to play any further, thus sparing me from having to watch the rest of the movie. I slipped it back in its envelope and sent it back to Netflix.
Afterthoughts: I saw this in the theater when it came out, so I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. In fact, I felt a little relieved that I didn't have to sit through it.
Thus endeth the shortest review so far.
To the moon!
I forgot about the Super Bowl until just after halftime, and the only reason I remembered at all was because I wanted to check out this year's crop of ads.
Some of them I'd seen before (one of the Coke ads, I saw in the theater before "Clerks 2" months ago), and most of the others didn't impress me very much.
I checked out the rest of the ads later on the Intarwebs, and when I saw the FedEx spot, the first thing I thought of was, "Oh man, I have to check Bad Astronomy for this one."
Phil Plait does not disappoint. Check it out. Feel free to read more while you're there. Lots of good stuff. Here's the commercial if you missed it.
Some of them I'd seen before (one of the Coke ads, I saw in the theater before "Clerks 2" months ago), and most of the others didn't impress me very much.
I checked out the rest of the ads later on the Intarwebs, and when I saw the FedEx spot, the first thing I thought of was, "Oh man, I have to check Bad Astronomy for this one."
Phil Plait does not disappoint. Check it out. Feel free to read more while you're there. Lots of good stuff. Here's the commercial if you missed it.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Fine, have it your way
I tend to dwell on McDonald's commercials when I wax nostalgic, but I am reminded that Burger King had commercials, too. Whereas McDonald's relies mostly on Ronald McDonald and friends, Burger King uses, well, just about anything they can think of.
Here's the old-school Burger King. I saw him on the side of my local BK a few months ago, and I was quite surprised, given that they seem taken with the creepy Burger King head guy these days. Note the "make me a shake" gag was also used in one of the "Time for Timer" spots ("Could you make me a banana?" "OK, you're a banana.")
The next big push was The Marvelous Magical Burger King, who may look a little familiar these days. This is the Burger King I remember. The kids' meals tended to have magic tricks that I royally sucked at. The MMBK had his own Burger Kingdom, which I suppose was like McDonaldland in its own way. The one that always bugged me was Burger Thing, a burgery face on a wall that talked. I think this is why Thomas the Tank Engine still creeps me out when my son watches it. You be the judge.
Not only was he magical, he was cool. Would you believe (Holy The Search for Animal Chin, Batman!) skateboarding? Oh, believe it.
One thing you could count on in Burger King commercials was seeing lots of familiar faces. A lot of them you saw before they were familiar, but still...
Here are Andrew McCarthy and Elisabeth Shue in a spot that tells the world that Burger King was now selling Pepsi.
As my dad is a staunch Pepsi drinker, we ended up going to Burger King an awful lot once they switched to Pepsi. And I think he was bummed out when they switched back to Coke.
I could tell the story of the time we were in a Burger King parking lot and he took a drink of his Pepsi, tried to suppress a carbonation-induced sneeze and ended up making a very loud "HHHHNNNNNNNNHHHH!" noise, but that would be embarrassing and not very sporting of me.
I could also talk about the time we got to the drive-through and saw that someone had strategically placed a dog turd around the top of the speaker, but that would be gross.
Here are some other famous faces:
Mr. T
Christine Taylor
Sarah Michelle Gellar (if memory serves, McDonald's sued over this spot)
Emmanuel Lewis
And then they had Herb. Herb was supposedly the last person in America who hadn't tried a Whopper, which as David Hofstede points out in his excellent book, What Were They Thinking: The 100 Dumbest Events in Television History
, must have come as a shock to vegetarians.
So the search was on for Herb. If you found him, you could win money. The problem was that initially, no one knew what he looked like. Hilarity ensued. Finally, they showed Herb during a special commercial during the Super Bowl, and he was a stereotypical nerdy looking guy.
In fact, when a classmate drew a scathing Mad Magazine-style parody of our class, I was drawn with a button that read, "Not Herb." It was the only positive thing about my likeness.
By 1992, there was Dan Cortese and BKTeeVee, which looks an awful lot like the stuff being parodied in "Reality Bites."
Of late, Burger King commercials are often just plain odd. This isn't necessarily bad, but it doesn't really make me want to buy Burger King.
The so-called "Creepy Burger King" has gotten a lot of grief. I think he's growing on me, though. Not so much that I wanted to buy the Halloween mask, but he doesn't bug me.
This makes me want to go to Burger King even though it's not a real commercial. How about you? (Mildly NSFW; there are birds a-flyin')
Here's the old-school Burger King. I saw him on the side of my local BK a few months ago, and I was quite surprised, given that they seem taken with the creepy Burger King head guy these days. Note the "make me a shake" gag was also used in one of the "Time for Timer" spots ("Could you make me a banana?" "OK, you're a banana.")
The next big push was The Marvelous Magical Burger King, who may look a little familiar these days. This is the Burger King I remember. The kids' meals tended to have magic tricks that I royally sucked at. The MMBK had his own Burger Kingdom, which I suppose was like McDonaldland in its own way. The one that always bugged me was Burger Thing, a burgery face on a wall that talked. I think this is why Thomas the Tank Engine still creeps me out when my son watches it. You be the judge.
Not only was he magical, he was cool. Would you believe (Holy The Search for Animal Chin, Batman!) skateboarding? Oh, believe it.
One thing you could count on in Burger King commercials was seeing lots of familiar faces. A lot of them you saw before they were familiar, but still...
Here are Andrew McCarthy and Elisabeth Shue in a spot that tells the world that Burger King was now selling Pepsi.
As my dad is a staunch Pepsi drinker, we ended up going to Burger King an awful lot once they switched to Pepsi. And I think he was bummed out when they switched back to Coke.
I could tell the story of the time we were in a Burger King parking lot and he took a drink of his Pepsi, tried to suppress a carbonation-induced sneeze and ended up making a very loud "HHHHNNNNNNNNHHHH!" noise, but that would be embarrassing and not very sporting of me.
I could also talk about the time we got to the drive-through and saw that someone had strategically placed a dog turd around the top of the speaker, but that would be gross.
Here are some other famous faces:
Mr. T
Christine Taylor
Sarah Michelle Gellar (if memory serves, McDonald's sued over this spot)
Emmanuel Lewis
And then they had Herb. Herb was supposedly the last person in America who hadn't tried a Whopper, which as David Hofstede points out in his excellent book, What Were They Thinking: The 100 Dumbest Events in Television History
, must have come as a shock to vegetarians.So the search was on for Herb. If you found him, you could win money. The problem was that initially, no one knew what he looked like. Hilarity ensued. Finally, they showed Herb during a special commercial during the Super Bowl, and he was a stereotypical nerdy looking guy.
In fact, when a classmate drew a scathing Mad Magazine-style parody of our class, I was drawn with a button that read, "Not Herb." It was the only positive thing about my likeness.
By 1992, there was Dan Cortese and BKTeeVee, which looks an awful lot like the stuff being parodied in "Reality Bites."
Of late, Burger King commercials are often just plain odd. This isn't necessarily bad, but it doesn't really make me want to buy Burger King.
The so-called "Creepy Burger King" has gotten a lot of grief. I think he's growing on me, though. Not so much that I wanted to buy the Halloween mask, but he doesn't bug me.
This makes me want to go to Burger King even though it's not a real commercial. How about you? (Mildly NSFW; there are birds a-flyin')
Monday, January 29, 2007
Don't it make you wanna scream...
Inspired by Neato Coolville's much superior zombie, here's another less scary zom.
Do your best Vincent Price voice and watch it all embiggened here.
And for you culture fiends, here's a little something I like to call Buttmunch.
Watch it writhe like Tweety Bird on acid here.
Do your best Vincent Price voice and watch it all embiggened here.
And for you culture fiends, here's a little something I like to call Buttmunch.
Watch it writhe like Tweety Bird on acid here.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
It's a family game...
I was going to rip this off of an old VHS tape just so I could talk about it. I even dug it out of the Siftin' archives and got it cued up.
Thankfully, someone has done the hard work for me.
I saw this years ago on a compilation of old Mego toy commercials (it also had the superheroes commercial that featured "The Falcon -- that great black superhero!").
The commercial is for a game called Ball Buster. Being the perennial 12-year-old that I am, I snickered at the name. And I chuckled when the announcer said that the aim of the game is to "bust your opponent's balls."
But it was the bit at the end that really got me. Not surprisingly, this is on my personal list of best commercials ever.
While searching the Intarwebs for more information, I found that the commercial was posted here only a few days ago. Great minds think alike.
Thankfully, someone has done the hard work for me.
I saw this years ago on a compilation of old Mego toy commercials (it also had the superheroes commercial that featured "The Falcon -- that great black superhero!").
The commercial is for a game called Ball Buster. Being the perennial 12-year-old that I am, I snickered at the name. And I chuckled when the announcer said that the aim of the game is to "bust your opponent's balls."
But it was the bit at the end that really got me. Not surprisingly, this is on my personal list of best commercials ever.
While searching the Intarwebs for more information, I found that the commercial was posted here only a few days ago. Great minds think alike.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
Must...sleep...
We're back from our trip to Las Vegas, and today is my first day back to work. Consequently, I need some sleep before making with the funny.
Worry not; I'll be back before too long.
Worry not; I'll be back before too long.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
American Idol, Seattle: Wha-huh?
If I get up to sing in front of people, and in the course of doing so, sound like a dinosaur passing a kidney stone while Freddy Krueger runs his fingernails down a chalkboard and two robots encased in Styrofoam wrestle on bubble wrap in a porta-johnny, I would not be surprised to be told that perhaps singing was not what I should be doing with my life.
That's common sense, isn't it?
I figured that by the sixth season of "American Idol," hopeful candidates would have an idea of what the judges are looking for. Having seen the first episodes so far, I can say that sadly, this is not the case.
Honest to God, I can't fathom why some of these people show up. I haven't decided what the impetus behind dragging themselves to humiliate themselves in front of millions of people could possibly be.
Is it the chance to be on TV?
Do they really think they're that good?
Did they lose a bet?
I know people in this country are encouraged to follow their dreams, but having a dream does not mean that it will come true. I think it's a terrific form of inspiration; something to work toward because you love it.
Dreaming of being, say, a blogging sex symbol is certainly something to shoot for, but is it ever going to happen for me? Not unless they start a three-drink minimum for the Internet.
I admire the chutzpah some contestants have. To a point. I mean, you clearly have to have a pair to say with a straight face that you are a terrific singer when in point of fact, you aren't. By a long shot.
I myself tend to be on the timid side when it comes to confidence about my creative endeavors, so I honestly don't know if people saying they sound like Mariah Carey when they sound like Steve Urkel is a manifestation of overconfidence or a sign of chemical imbalance.
Here are some things I noticed from last night's episode, which featured a bevy of weirdos from planet Zebtar. The first thing is that's it's really hard not to be mean talking about the contestants. I try to root for the underdog, but for the love of God, country and Krispy Kremes, people, give me something to work with.
Brandon Groves -- a repeat offender, this year he came dressed in Uncle Sam-glam attire. He got a very quick "no" from the judges.
Jennifer Chapton (The Hotness) -- Yes, that's her nickname. Not only does she sport that odd cosmetic fashion of wearing lip liner five shades darker than her lipstick (totally The Hotness), but she doesn't take no for an answer, continuing to sing for a year or two after Simon said "no." When spurned by the judges, she broke into a rapid-fire, double-negative-infused speech pattern that you usually hear on "The Jerry Springer Show."
Now as they go into a commercial, Seacrest intones that "Darwin Reedy gets some much-needed support from her mother." The clip shows a platinum blonde in desperate need of a, uh, foundation garment. Nice touch, American Idol.
I really have to stop asking "How bad can they be?" when they show clips before commercial breaks. That's like saying "Well, at least it's not raining" when you're stranded somewhere on a sitcom.
By now I'm feeling bad for laughing at the gag, and now I'm bummed because Amy, the singer with a cold you really wanted to do well, really didn't.
Then we get a montage of stupefyingly craptacular singing, including the "DIE! DIE! DIE!" guy.
And now we meet Darwin Reedy. Her friends call her "Mischa." She has platinum blond hair, black glasses and lipstick so you-can-see-it-from-Pluto-even-though-Pluto-isn't-considered-a-planet-anymore red, it brings to mind the following exchange from "Scrubs":
The producers either planted her or soiled themselves when they met her.
"I've written a novella, actually, about a singing competition. Actually, there's a character inspired by you, Simon." Wow. Someone who overuses the word "actually" more than I do.
Randy suggests that Mischa bring in her mom, and after she comes in, we see Paula mouth "Oh, my God." This seriously has to be a put-on. After tanking with her rendition of "Don't Cha" by The Pussycat Dolls ("Don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?"), she offers to try part of "Sweet Home Alabama."
She accepts the rejection, and I get a commercial break.
Well, it can only get better from here, right?
Third time was the charm for Tommy Daniels. He got a yes from all three, plus a shoutout from Randy for his tight 'fro. It is indeed a splendid 'fro. If the Lord had intended for me to have a 'fro, I like to think it would be like that one.
Melissa Stavros -- She goes by her middle name, Carlene, but Simon calls her Melissa. Randy asks her to finish this song: "I like ..."
And BAM, she's off into "Baby Got Back" without hesitation. I admire the hell out of that. For her real audition, she chooses a Christina Aguilera song. No dice.
The Malakars are pretty good.
Oh dear, this is a two-hour episode. I can only last for the first hour. At least in one sitting. Maybe I should just stick with the highlights.
And...
Let's see, Nick Zitzmann. Oh boy. Eeesh. No.
Hmm.
You know, I was going to just stick it out for Day 2, but after they came back, they showed the efforts of new friends Kenneth Briggs and Jonathan Jayne.
"Simon, you can kiss my --- because I do NOT look like a monkey."
(whistling)
Well, at least it's not raining.
That's common sense, isn't it?
I figured that by the sixth season of "American Idol," hopeful candidates would have an idea of what the judges are looking for. Having seen the first episodes so far, I can say that sadly, this is not the case.
Honest to God, I can't fathom why some of these people show up. I haven't decided what the impetus behind dragging themselves to humiliate themselves in front of millions of people could possibly be.
Is it the chance to be on TV?
Do they really think they're that good?
Did they lose a bet?
I know people in this country are encouraged to follow their dreams, but having a dream does not mean that it will come true. I think it's a terrific form of inspiration; something to work toward because you love it.
Dreaming of being, say, a blogging sex symbol is certainly something to shoot for, but is it ever going to happen for me? Not unless they start a three-drink minimum for the Internet.
I admire the chutzpah some contestants have. To a point. I mean, you clearly have to have a pair to say with a straight face that you are a terrific singer when in point of fact, you aren't. By a long shot.
I myself tend to be on the timid side when it comes to confidence about my creative endeavors, so I honestly don't know if people saying they sound like Mariah Carey when they sound like Steve Urkel is a manifestation of overconfidence or a sign of chemical imbalance.
Here are some things I noticed from last night's episode, which featured a bevy of weirdos from planet Zebtar. The first thing is that's it's really hard not to be mean talking about the contestants. I try to root for the underdog, but for the love of God, country and Krispy Kremes, people, give me something to work with.
Brandon Groves -- a repeat offender, this year he came dressed in Uncle Sam-glam attire. He got a very quick "no" from the judges.
Jennifer Chapton (The Hotness) -- Yes, that's her nickname. Not only does she sport that odd cosmetic fashion of wearing lip liner five shades darker than her lipstick (totally The Hotness), but she doesn't take no for an answer, continuing to sing for a year or two after Simon said "no." When spurned by the judges, she broke into a rapid-fire, double-negative-infused speech pattern that you usually hear on "The Jerry Springer Show."
"Opinion don't mean nothin'. Cuz you don't leave no stone unturned."
"He probably listens to that back-country Englishman sheep stuff."
Now as they go into a commercial, Seacrest intones that "Darwin Reedy gets some much-needed support from her mother." The clip shows a platinum blonde in desperate need of a, uh, foundation garment. Nice touch, American Idol.
I really have to stop asking "How bad can they be?" when they show clips before commercial breaks. That's like saying "Well, at least it's not raining" when you're stranded somewhere on a sitcom.
By now I'm feeling bad for laughing at the gag, and now I'm bummed because Amy, the singer with a cold you really wanted to do well, really didn't.
Then we get a montage of stupefyingly craptacular singing, including the "DIE! DIE! DIE!" guy.
And now we meet Darwin Reedy. Her friends call her "Mischa." She has platinum blond hair, black glasses and lipstick so you-can-see-it-from-Pluto-even-though-Pluto-isn't-considered-a-planet-anymore red, it brings to mind the following exchange from "Scrubs":
Elliot: Dr. Cox, does this lipstick make me look like a clown?
Dr. Cox: Why no, Barbie, no ... It makes you look like a prostitute who caters exclusively TO clowns.
The producers either planted her or soiled themselves when they met her.
"I've written a novella, actually, about a singing competition. Actually, there's a character inspired by you, Simon." Wow. Someone who overuses the word "actually" more than I do.
Randy suggests that Mischa bring in her mom, and after she comes in, we see Paula mouth "Oh, my God." This seriously has to be a put-on. After tanking with her rendition of "Don't Cha" by The Pussycat Dolls ("Don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?"), she offers to try part of "Sweet Home Alabama."
She accepts the rejection, and I get a commercial break.
Well, it can only get better from here, right?
Third time was the charm for Tommy Daniels. He got a yes from all three, plus a shoutout from Randy for his tight 'fro. It is indeed a splendid 'fro. If the Lord had intended for me to have a 'fro, I like to think it would be like that one.
Melissa Stavros -- She goes by her middle name, Carlene, but Simon calls her Melissa. Randy asks her to finish this song: "I like ..."
And BAM, she's off into "Baby Got Back" without hesitation. I admire the hell out of that. For her real audition, she chooses a Christina Aguilera song. No dice.
The Malakars are pretty good.
Oh dear, this is a two-hour episode. I can only last for the first hour. At least in one sitting. Maybe I should just stick with the highlights.
And...
Let's see, Nick Zitzmann. Oh boy. Eeesh. No.
Hmm.
You know, I was going to just stick it out for Day 2, but after they came back, they showed the efforts of new friends Kenneth Briggs and Jonathan Jayne.
"Simon, you can kiss my --- because I do NOT look like a monkey."
(whistling)
Well, at least it's not raining.
Monday, January 15, 2007
YouTube Monday
I'm still just too darn tired of late to seriously pontificate on pieces of pop culture, so I offer you one of my favorite commercials for that rainy-day recess favorite.
"Pret-ty sneaky, sis."
"Pret-ty sneaky, sis."
Monday, January 08, 2007
Glad about Mad
My friend Karyne alerted me to this post on Boing Boing. You can now buy every issue (up through 2005 or 2006 -- I can't tell for sure) of Mad Magazine on DVD.
A few years back, I got a similar collection on 7 CDs, and that went up through December 1998, I think. I'd have to look for sure, and my stupid self packed it in a box that went into storage when we moved. Meh.
This new collection features all the mags in PDF format. The first collection had a neat feature where you could actually fold the fold-in at the end of each issue. I'm guessing you can't do that with the new one, but still, being able to read over 50 years of Mad Magazine is still pretty awesome.
This collection is from the folks at GIT Corp., who also have a handful of Marvel Comics DVD collections, with more forthcoming. I got one a few years ago, the Marvel Comic Book Library, which featured the first 10 adventures of 10 Marvel characters. It was pretty cool, and it's nice to have comics all in one place without taking up tons of room in long boxes.
I still prefer to read the actual comic books (you can't beat that old comic book smell), but it's still pretty handy. I haven't tried out any of the larger collections, but given that I'd never have the money to buy the full run of say, the Fantastic Four, it's an inexpensive way to read some classic books.
Now if only DC Comics would do something similar...
A few years back, I got a similar collection on 7 CDs, and that went up through December 1998, I think. I'd have to look for sure, and my stupid self packed it in a box that went into storage when we moved. Meh.
This new collection features all the mags in PDF format. The first collection had a neat feature where you could actually fold the fold-in at the end of each issue. I'm guessing you can't do that with the new one, but still, being able to read over 50 years of Mad Magazine is still pretty awesome.
This collection is from the folks at GIT Corp., who also have a handful of Marvel Comics DVD collections, with more forthcoming. I got one a few years ago, the Marvel Comic Book Library, which featured the first 10 adventures of 10 Marvel characters. It was pretty cool, and it's nice to have comics all in one place without taking up tons of room in long boxes.
I still prefer to read the actual comic books (you can't beat that old comic book smell), but it's still pretty handy. I haven't tried out any of the larger collections, but given that I'd never have the money to buy the full run of say, the Fantastic Four, it's an inexpensive way to read some classic books.
Now if only DC Comics would do something similar...
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