"Diarrhea, cha cha cha! Diarrhea, cha cha cha!"

...or, "Frogggg! Baaaseballl!"....or, "Are you them kids who've been whackin' it in my camper?"

Back in our earlier Wonder Years, my brother (Wayne Arnold in the flesh) and I (young Kevin, incarnate) meshed like oil and dabs of vinegar. Six years my senior, he played the "insulting, tough guy older brother" role more than well, while I fit the quiet, reserved, insecure younger sibling constantly feeling inferior. It wasn't fun.

But as years went by and the two of us matured, we slowly became closer. Common interests (girls, hip hop) crept into the mix thanks to my becoming a young adult. The fact that I shot up in height and bulk didn't hurt matters either. By age 13, I was taller than he was, the way our stature's have remained to this day.

Looking back on our relationship, though (which is great today, mind you), one of the first equalizers was a certain aniimated MTV program that we both fell in love with: Beavis & Butthead. [Ren & Stimpy was another, but that deserves its own post, which I'll get to at a later date.]



Background about the show isn't necessary here, I'd hope. If you don't know about the once-awesome Beavis & Butthead, I really don't even wanna fucks with you. Even I, a hip hopper since third grade, couldn't help but submit to these two underachieving, disgusting, loser metalheads, who did nothing but watch music videos all day, with occasional trips to school to piss off hippie teacher Van Driessen and gym teacher Buzzcut, or to spit into the french fries at TKTK.

Their out-of-house antics were hilariously-awkward and all, but for my buck, the episodes' main attractions were the video clips, because, similarly to my love of Mystery Science Theater 3000, I'm a fool for fourth-wall-breaking commentary on crappy art.






All week, I've been knee-deep visually in VH1's countdown of the greatest hard rock song ever (even cleverly titled The 100 Greatest Hard Rock Song Ever, I believe). I love me some VH1-programmed countdown/list/pop-culture-nostalgic specials, so it didn't take long for me to lose myself within. Not only has it been great for time-killing entertainment purposes, but the shows have also been free-of-charge educational tools, opening my eyes/ears/mind up to some classic rock 'n' roll I'd only known through either secondhand chatter or Rock Band 2. One of the songs included Winger's "She's Only 17" (title may be wrong, but whatever), a song my brother was a fan of, though he'd probably deny it now (he had it on cassette tape, please believe). And in the Winger segment, they mentioned how the band became an easy joke-target for true hardcore metalheads, a ridicule fest made infamous on the shirt of Beavis and Butthead's nerdy classmate Stewart.



And that's where this Beavis-and-Butthead-riding-shotgun trip down memory lane began. So to show creator Mike Judge, I must say, "Thanks, man." Without Beaver and Butthole (my fellow fans will catch that reference. Or not), who knows.....perhaps my brother and I would've existed under heaps of friction for some time longer. But "ifs," "ands," or "buts" get you nowhere in this world, so fuck 'em each sideways.


Ahh, the amazing "Great Cornholio." That episode snuck up on my brother and I like Danny Ocean and his cohorts would the Bellagio. I've never seen a human being laugh as hard as Scotty B. did while watching that one for the first time. Unforgettable.

In Conclusion: Here's to the oft-forgetten by most, but never lost in my mind, Beavis & Butthead. Instead of wasting our brains away with endless reality show drivel, why not bring back some B&B reruns, MTV? Or, Mr. Judge, a new feature film, at the least. That Beavis & Butthead Do America was a bit of a letdown. My Uncle Harry, who shared the B&B love with my brother and I, took us to see it at the Ridgewood movie theater, and he was fuming with disappointment. Still expresses anger over that movie, over 12 years later. Bittersweet symphonies, he sings.



***Mental Bonus: You know what I also loved? Liquid TV. Where Beavis & Butthead first appeared (fun fact for that ass), playing a controversial game of Frog Baseball. The Tracy Ullman Show to B&B's The Simpsons. Liquid TV is also where sexy-squared Aeon Flux (yes, cartoon characters can be sexy) initially surfaced. Just a headtrip of a show, full of cutting edge animation and mind-fucking creativity. Like Ren & Stimpy, Liquid TV more than deserves its own post. Note to self.

"Lickety Split, split lickety......"

8 Mile is on VH1, and I'd forgotten how much I love this movie. Especially when he verbally incinerates those Free World bitches in the final battle setpiece.

"Tanktop screamin' 'Lotto, I don't fit you!"

In honor of this time capsule of a flick (for me, it represents a time when my Jersey friends and I were particularly into this hip hop shit, as a collective, and we saw this as a unit on opening night. I left the theater flirting with the notion of putting pen to paper, hoping I could one day kick ass in a battle just as B. Rabbit did....clearly, that pipe dream went the way of mushroom cloud smoke), here's the just-flawless "Lose Yourself," the flick's theme song.

Sure, this was a smash commercial hit and all that jazz. But did/do people realize how incredible this song really is? The way it charges your blood, and makes you want to go conquer the world. And then there's Eminem's untouchable flow, verses, message. Serious shit.

(for some reason, the actual video has been taken down from Youtube. Guess those labels and their new anti-Youtube policies are in effect)


Let's get this Relapse album sooner than later, eh?

official Gomorrah trailer hits like automatic weapon-fire

Been skimming through heaps of praise for this one for months now. Hits in limited release here in early February, and I'll be close-to-first on line. Won't say "first on line" exactly because I'm a realist (or try to be one), and that's just cliche crazy talk.

"Based on Roberto Saviano's incendiary best seller exposing Italy's modern day criminal underworld, the film centers on the Comorra crime family's absolute control of the crime syndicate in Naples."
--Presented by Martin Scorcese, so you know it's good.

Gomorrah

'Gomorrah' Theatrical Trailer @ Yahoo! Video

August 21, 2009....Inglourious Basterds will kick your ass (fingers crossed)

Spotted over at: Cinematical

So, Inglourious Basterds has been given an August 21, 2009 release date, it seems. Totally doesn't strike me as a late-Summer drop-in, honestly. That's the time when studios spew out the lowest-common-denominators of May-to-September moneymakers, isn't it? Has always seemed so to me---this past August 22, in fact (as Cinematical points out) saw Death Race and The House Bunny.... exactly. A WWII epic starring Brad Pitt, directed by Quentin Tarantino, and hoping to play in competition at the Cannes Film Festival feels about far from "lowest-common-denominator of May-to-September moneymakers" as a film can get, no?

I'm expecting this to shift to a later-2009 date sooner than later. But if not, all good with me either way. I just want to see the fuckin' thing already (even though I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Tarantino hasn't even finished shooting it yet....he's pumping this one out with rapid force).

At least this news is another excuse to post this pic from the film. Badass, it is:

the big 27.....30 keeps getting closer and closer

New Years = My Birthday = Twilight Zone marathon = my own private utopia

The Twilight Zone's New Year Eve-through-Day 48-hour marathon. A cornerstone of not only my late childhood, but also my teenage years and current phase of adulthood.



The yearly tradition started back sometime around 1994. Give or take a year or two. This is just a rough guesstimation. Back when the New Years marathon was on Channel 11, not yet having relocated to the Sci-Fi Channel. The Twilight Zone had been one of those cool-sounding classics that my pops and uncles would chat about, one that always seemed like the quintessential "Matt Show," but I had been hesitant to watch. The reason: it all seemed like it'd go over my 12-year-old head. The images and suspense would register, sure, but from what my elders had been saying, it seemed like a show that went deeper than the bizarre and often chilling. Social issues were dissected, and considering that the show originally aired during the early '60s, the relevancy of the subjects and themes covered were decades of their time.



But all this changed the New Years party celebrating the arrival of 1995, a shindig at my parents house that ushered in several of their longtime friends. Plus myself, a pre-teen ready to ring in my 13th birthday in mere hours. Being a New Years Baby has its instant advantages, most notably the built-in party that comes along with it. This time, it was me and about 10 forty-somethings in attendance. One guest, my dad's sarcastically-arrogant friend Dennis, was a huge Zone head, and asked to have the television set switched to Channel 11's ongoing T-Zone onslaught. In a lucky twist of fate for Mr. Dennis, his favorite episode just happened to be on: "A Game of Pool," the one where Jonathan Winters plays a ghost who challenges Jack Klugman's hotshot pool-player into a life-or-death game of billiards. Dennis loved to play pool, so it made sense.



Sitting on the couch next to Dennis, watching as the great episode bobbed and weaved from funny to morbid in quick strokes, I was hypnotized. Unable to look away. Even as the ep ended, Dennis went back into the kitchen for some more grown-up sipping, but I remained fastened, hooked into the Zones. The only time I allowed the partygoers to change the channel was to watch the ball drop. Moments after the New Year officially began, I swiped the remote control from one of my mom's sloppily-drunken gal-pal's hands and put Channel 11 back on.

I stayed up 'til about 5am that night, and ten Twilight Zone gems later, I fell asleep on the couch, officially a Zone fanatic. And every New Years since, whether it be for hours in a row or merely a few episodes scattered, I've made it an ritual to watch some of the marathon. It's been on the Sci-Fi Channel for the past half-a-decade, maybe longer, but its just as magical as it was on Channel 11. The funny part is that I actually own all 168 Zone episodes on DVD, thanks to my awesome parents and their greatest-birthday-gift-giving-effort-ever a few years back, when they gave me the entire "Definitive Edition" DVD set. One of my prized possessions, it remains, far behind but not lost amongst the thoughts of my dog Zoey. No joke.

As I type this, I'm watching the sneakily sinister episode "Queen of the Nile," about a journalist sent to profile a beautiful, seemingly-ageless actress, who ends up being the actual Queen of the Nile, kept alive and gorgeous for centuries thanks to the evil deeds of Egyptian gods. Sweet. The roommate and I are having guests over later for some pregame drinks before we head on out to our NYE celebration, but please believe that I'll do my damndest to keep The Twilight Zone the tube for as long as humanly possible. If anything, I'll use the trusty old "....but its my birthday, man! I should get final say on what to watch, no?" That probably won't work, since Rock Band 2 will surely trump my sentimenal, imaginative ass. But its worth a valiant shot, I say.

Everything about The Twilight Zone connects with every side of my personality, my outlook, my imagination fascination. Even when decidedly heartwarming, the show was never too stuck-up or lunkheaded to totally skirt the unknown. The supernatural was always looming, a mindbender of an ending found within the majority. As somebody who cherishes superb storytelling and screenwriting, the show has never lost its touch; no matter when I turn on any particular episode, the pacing and ideas-beneath-peculiar-dressing impress. Often times, astonish. Some simply enjoy The Zone for thrills, genre-muffling entertainment of the most enjoyable caliber. Others, though, such as myself, can't help but dig deeper to uncover the high intelligence and topical relevance. It isn't just TV....The Twilight Zone plays like a one-of-a-kind 30-minute, sometimes hour-long, trip into your theater of the mind.

I'd love to write ad naus about my personal favorite episodes here, but I've got a busy day on the horizon. Time is a-tickin'. But fuck, how amazing are "The Monsters are Due on Maple Street," "The Hitchhiker," "Five Characters in Search of an Exit," "After Hours," "People are Alike All Over," "Nervous Man in a Five Dollar Room," "Eye of the Beholder," "Deaths-Head Revisited," "The New Exhibit," "The Howling Man," and "The Masks"? Just to cite a few.





New Years Eve/Day: not only significant and timelessly special because its my born-day, but also because it first introduced me to unbeatable, never-will-be-matched greatness of The Twilight Zone. It'll forever remain both my favorite television show of all time and my top source of narrative superiority. Rod Serling (creator, head writer, all around genius), my idol and endless supplier of inspiration and brain satiating.



The hardcover book volumes of original Twilight Zone episodes scripts, the entries into my reading-material collection I'm most proud of, and intend to put to the most career-beneficially use in calendars to come.

Now, back to the marathon, a wonderful birthday gift I'd like to think that Rod Serling and the good folks at the Sci-Fi Channel give to me once a year. If only it came encased in wrapping paper.

Year in Review: How did I miss this story when it happened??

From AOL News:

"Silly Filly: On a fine October day, Gracie the horse decided to investigate a hole in a tree, but she went a little bit too far and got stuck. Owner Jason Harschbarger of Pullman, W.Va., snapped the photo before using a chainsaw to cut Gracie free. She was not seriously hurt."

This picture is having a profound impact on me, and I can't call why.

2008, The Shitty Year That It Was for Rap

Yeah, 2008 was even more of a shitty year for rap than it was for American-made, theatrically-released horror films. Infinitely more so.

Sad that the only albums I can honestly say I still give a shit about are: Elzhi's The Preface and Europass, Black Milk's Tronic, eMC's The Show, Planet Asia and DJ Muggs' Pain Language, Q-Tip's The Renaissance, Scarface's Emeritus, and T.I.'s Paper Trail. Why "sad"? Because only one of those albums made any impact, and we all know which one. And yes, I do realize that The Carter 3 came out, but I'm still as indifferent about that one as I was upon initial listen(s).

After such an uneventful, lackluster year on my ears, I have zero energy and/or motivation to write about it. So thankfully Smoking Section has taken the initiative to compile a hilarious-because-its-all-true list of the year's biggest turds. Enjoy.

The Smoking Section's spot-on "Most Disappointing Hip Hop Albums of 2008

Some good shooting of the shit....

A couple of interview clips from the Charlie Rose show with Brad Pitt (a top actor in my book) and David Fincher (very well could be my top working filmmaker today). For somebody like me, this is coolness, considering that neither guy gives too many sitdowns. So having both together in one room is pretty eventful.

Ah, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. A film I'd been waiting all year for, in hopes of it smacking upside the left-cheek with amazing-ness. Instead, it just backhanded me with mostly greatness but some weakness that has prevented it from leaving a huge mark. Maybe I need to see it again before I totally chalk it up to an admirable, well-conceived, somewhat letdown.

There's like nine parts to this, all found on Youtube. I'm just posting a couple here. And note the creepy little mustache that Pitt has; its for his Inglourious Basterds character, so it's a-okay. Quit giggling at it. No, he doesn't look like your pedophile neighbor.

Part 2


Part 3

"Why are you wearing that stupid man-suit?"

Revisiting this one tonight was a stellar idea.



After a good four years away from it, this one is still as hilarious, profound, unsettling, and perplexing as the first dozen times I watched it.

I refuse to believe that writer-director Richard Kelly is a one-cult-hit wonder. Here's to his next one, The Box, wiping the frustration-stains of his too-daring-for-its-own-good Southland Tales clean off. I mean, its based on a Richard Matheson tale, and Matheson is a pillar (in my mind). All the pieces are in play. Now, knock 'em down, Richie boy.

Oh, and Jena Malone truly is one of the most slept-on natural beauties in the game. I've seen plenty of her movie-press-run interviews, and she's never less than equal parts charming, quirky, and free-from-restraint.

I'd kick it with her any time, any place, any second.

Goblin ruled, still rules

Here's a case where I'll let the sounds do the justifying/explaining/entertaining here.

Goblin = a group of progressive musicians from Italy who scored some of the best genre flicks to come out of the 1970s/the best soundtrack-providers in cinematic history (at least for my corrupted sensibilities)

Listen to their work, and fall in love. Or not, though be warned: if you don't, I'll think less of you. Maybe just keep the far-from-impressed reactions to yourself, then.

George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead, the first time I noticed the collective group name Goblin in the credits under "original music by..."


Dario Argento's Suspiria, officially my all-time top movie score, hands crashed-down on the table of decision (seriously, how fuckin' brilliant is this right here? Cool points forever awarded to Cage and RJD2 for sampling it on "Weather People," too)


Argento's Deep Red....Goblin and Argento went together like Danny Elfman and Tim Burton (Argento even produced Dawn of the Dead)


**Just watched Deep Red for the second time. The "painting is actually a mirror" trick is perfectly-executed, and genius maximized. Well played, Argento-sir. Well played.

>>>>BONUS
This one's not by Goblin; rather, it's the work of another great Italian horror film composer: Fabio Frizzi. And it rules just as much as the above Goblin stuff.

The main theme for Lucio Fulci's awesome-in-every-gloriously-overdone-Dawn-of-the-Dead-ripping-off-way Zombi. (Necro, that aforementioned horror-loving sick fuck/horrorcore rap producer, also sampled this one. What a guy.)

Valkyrie, post-watching thoughts...

It's late. I'm tired. Why couldn't the fuckin' AMC nearby have shown this closer to 9pm, not 11pm? Those inglourious basterds! Going with a bullet-point approach to my specific reactions here. But overall, I dug Valkyrie more than enough. Was highly entertained, never anywhere near bored. Taken as a straightforward suspense thriller, it was damn near first-rate; as a historical account, though, a bit hollow, lacking the meaty layers necessary for full impact. Go into this one as you may.



The Good:
**as just mentioned, the rapid-fire pacing and dedication to the "assassination plot against Adolf Hitler by members of his own army" mission at narrative hand made for what lazier folk would label as a "nail-biter." I, I'll just call it a great piece of tense entertainment. Aside from Colonel Stauffenberg, the head of the anti-Fuhrer mutiny played by Tom Cruise, the rest of the traitors are given zero backgstory, leaving their specific reasons for turning against Hitler mysteries. We just know that they're tired of the tyrant and his civilian-slaughtering, destructive ways.

**considering that we all know the film's outcome before even buying a ticket (the assassination attempt, although the best and most closely-effective of its kind, was unsuccessful, and all involved were executed immediately), the fact that Valkyrie still manages to captivate with ample suspense is something that director Bryan Singer (Superman Returns, X-Men, The Usual Suspects) should be saluted for here.

**and finally, a surprisingly well-handled aspect...the use of all English language here. The intention with the film (at least how it seems to me) is to deliver a top-notch popcorn thriller (albeit one with a bit more truthfulness and importance than other "popcorn" fare), and in order to do so, asses need to be in seats, thus rendering the use of German speaking and subtitles obsolete, unfortunately. I don't mind subtitles, but many (lame mofos) do, so be it. But at least the way the film's English-speaking is eased into within the opening minute it nicely-pulled-off.

And now....

The Bad:
**the stunt casting of Tom Cruise. Sure, Cruise sort of resembles the real Stauffenberg (Google him, I'm too lazy to search for a pic and post it here), but he's way too miscast here. Just see the scene where he angrily exclaims the infamous "Heil Hitler!" salute. The audience I was with erupted in laughter at something that should've been stone-cold serious. And really, if his performance was grade-A+, I wouldn't even have cared that it was a megastar in the role, but his work here is pretty flat. Not his best job done, by any means. He isn't terrible; he's just mediocre, and being that he's surrounded by some very-fine supporting talent (such as Tom Wilkinson, Bill Nighy, and Terence Stamp, all performing greatly here), his faults bleed through the screen.

**related to Cruise, the film's over-dependency on humanizing Stauffenberg by including a brely-there subplot involving his wife and children, as well as an opening scene where he's severely wounded in battle. Neither proves sufficient enough to the basic "assassination attempt" storyboard as things progress, and Stauffenberg is more of a supporting character here than the true lead, so efforts to give him narrative padding fall way short. I can think of at least three other characters in the film that I'd rather have learned more about, but never got to as Valkyrie approaches the all-real-people roster.

**and lastly, an additional negative flipside to the whole "lean, straight-to-the-core approach"....certain spots of the story would've been better served with some explanatory injections. For instance, just how did the choice of "hand-delivered bomb into one of Hitler's private meetings which would set off Operation Valkyrie" end up being the plan? What led to this exactly? Were any other elaborate ideas flirted with at any point? As Valkyrie has it, the plan is decided upon seemingly nonchalantly, and agreed upon rather quickly. Which I'm sure wasn't really the case.

Final Statement:
Valkyrie is totally worth seeing, as long as you go in expecting nothing more than a fast, lean, potboiler of a suspense ride. In no way a "great" film; just a very entertaining, though flawed, one, and one that I'd definitely watch a few more times. I'll just have to turn my critical switch to Off and enjoy the at-times-bumpy-but-ultimately-satisfying ride.