Everything I know I learned from movie shows: Part I

It occurred to me recently that many of the most important lessons I have ever learned, I learned from watching movies. In fact, I can't remember anything of value being instilled in me that wasn't done so by a film (thanks for nothing, loving parents). Now, in celebration of the wealth of knowledge that modern cinema bestowed on my budding young mind, I pass along these, the most essential life lessons you can learn through film, part I:

Summer Lovin' got me ten to twelve in San Quentin...

Men and women are very different (also known as the True Love/Sexual Assault Paradigm): Thanks to the jaunty musical GREASE, you'll quickly learn that when recounting a summer fling in song form, women will beg the question "Tell us more, tell us more, was it love at first sight?" While men will query "Tell us more, tell us more, did she put up a fight?" So, to sum up, women will be largely concerned with whether or not two people were truly connected from the first time they met, while men will basically just want to know if you had to rape her.

Having kids is a horrible idea: All it takes is one viewing of the film adaptation of the classic Roald Dahl book CHARLIE & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY (the one with Gene Wilder that's actually named for Willy Wonka, not the one where Johnny Depp plays an albino pedophile) to learn that having kids is the wrong move. Why you ask? Because children are terrible people, as evidenced by the fact that Charlie was able to inherit an entire candy factory based purely on the merit of not being a total piece of shit. Yes, children are by in large so awful that Willy Wonka's deciding process was essentially: "Well, every other kid here is a complete asshole, so I guess you're the winner."

Where to drive drunk:  First off, let me start by saying that drunk driving is unbelievably moronic and dangerous and no one anywhere should do it, ever. Having said that, if you're go to do it anyway, at least do it in Minnesota. Why the north star state? Simple. Because as THE MIGHTY DUCKS so astutely pointed out, if you get caught there, your penalty will likely be a court mandate demanding that you coach a rag-tag pee wee hockey team to frozen glory. Quack, quack, quack...

The Truman Show: Rated X

While flipping through the channels the other day I stumbled onto The Truman Show on TBS (I guess I caught the two hour block that day where they weren't peddling some unspeakable Tyler Perry abomination) and every time I watch it I am even more impressed by what a truly good film it is. But this time, something else, something very different, struck me about it.
I thought to myself, with the unbelievable amount of reality TV churned out and napalming our brains each year, how far off are we from a real-life Truman Show? Honestly, I'd give it maybe two, three more years before some psycho heads to the office of a development exec and pitches a show that secretly tapes a baby for the entirety of its life. And don't act like you wouldn't watch it. If you soak in six hours of Teen Mom every week, you'd watch this. But this notion struck me with another, much more troubling question; just how much gratuitous self pleasuring must there have been in the taping of The Truman Show?!

"I swear I can feel their eyes on me..."

Think about it, throughout the film, tons of loyal viewers are shown glued to their television sets, addicted to even the smallest minutia of Truman's life. Now think back to ten or so years earlier, when Truman was but a budding young man in the frenzy of pubescent transformation. Now, if Truman is anything like every other boy in the world, around age thirteen his most prominent pastime quickly shifted from after school cartoons to just completely annihilating himself, often several times a day. And if in fact this was the case, logic says that for a large chunk of years in the long-running 24/7 broadcast of his life, the viewers were watching young Truman come home from school, lock himself in his room, and work over his not-yet-fully-grown wang like he was pumping it for information (and what the ratings did in said years would really say a lot about who the show's core viewership really was).
For shame you fictional perverts, for shame.
Anyway, sorry for ruining The Truman Show for you, but if I have to deal with these questions, so should you.

And the Oscar goes to... Sir Vincent of Diesel!

Shiny trophy!!!

Apparently, while racing his '67 Charger, Vin Diesel lost his damn mind in a high stakes bet. Since the huge release of the titular five-quel (that's what they call them, right?) in The Fast and The Furious series,Fast Five, Vin has been bragging around town about the possibility of some serious award consideration, saying: "I wouldn't be surprised if there is some Oscar talk around this." 
Really? You wouldn't be surprised? Because I feel like everyone else in the fucking world would be. The only way to legitimize that statement would be to follow it up with "I also wouldn't be surprised if OJ Simpson garnered some consideration for the Academy's lifetime achievement award," then laughing heartily and saying "Just fucking with you... obviously."
Listen, I like an ass-kicking action flick as much as the next guy, but if Vin Diesel really thinks there will be any Academy Awards for a film in which he and Paul Walker drive a convertible off a cliff and base jump out of it (or for any film that Paul Walker appears in, for that matter) then he has seriously lost his shit. He'll have a better chance of taking home the little golden man with the next Chronicles of Riddick installment than with anything that's fast and/or furious. 
Come on now Vin, just be who you are. You don't remember hearing Schwarzenegger talk up the Oscar chances of Collateral Damage do you? Just make your action flicks, count your money, and possibly consider fathering a child with the household help.

It's time to put an end to these garish pirate stereotypes

I was on my way to do a show last night (blowin' up in the back room at the Westwood Brew Co., getting famous much?) when I spotted this giant building-side ad off Wilshire:

Yo ho, yo ho, it's a pirate's alternative lifestyle for me!

All I could think to myself was that actual pirates must be rolling over in their watery graves over how unbelievably gay they are being portrayed as in modern media. While I'm sure some of them liked to accessorize, it's hard to believe the pirate population as a whole enjoyed beaded hair wraps, streaks of highlights, beard-beads (what is with this dude and beads?) or generously applied eye-liner quite as much as Captain Jack Sparrow seems to.
Now let me be clear by pointing out that there is nothing wrong with being gay, but that it simply might not sit so well with some roughneck sea-dogs helplessly watching this franchise make multi-millions from their perch in the big crow's nest in the sky. Sure Johnny Depp might say Captain Jack is based on Kieth Richards, but from where I (and probably a bunch of emasculated dead pirates) sit, it seems a lot more like the weird mustachioed gentleman who offers to braid your hair for five bucks in the Bahamas.

Meet LA's finest billboard doctor

While driving slowly up Olympic toward Santa Monica yesterday morning, I happened upon a billboard featuring this man:

Unable to snap a picture due to traffic, and the tears in my eyes from laughing so hard, I was luckily able to track Dr. Daniel down on the internet for your viewing pleasure.
There's just so very much to love about this man's ad campaign. First off, his name is fucking Dr. Daniel. And it is a well known fact that any doctor who goes by his first name is just displaying the fact that he's going to spend the majority of your appointment making inappropriate jokes. Second, his slogan is "Hola Dr. Daniel!" I LOVE IT. It's like he's hoping to cash in on the niche market of Hispanic's who are not only unhappy with how they look (of course he's a plastic surgeon, it's LA), but are also huge fans of The Simpsons (Is he also a proud alumnus of Hollywood Upstairs Medical College?). And lastly, this man has clearly spent a great deal of time crafting what would be his public image, and it has paid in dividends. I just picture him during the photo shoot explaining to the photographer: "I want people to look up and think to themselves, 'Well I can see that he's a doctor, but I find myself wondering if he may also be an Alliance approved magician available for private parties.'"

More Monsters Please!

When did creatures of the night become so friggin' all encompassing? When I was a kid zombies and werewolves and vampires were around, sure, but they weren't dicks about it.

Frankly, it would've been a lot better had the whole series been like this.

It seems like recently they're on every TV network and in every other movie that comes out. How about leaving some for us normals ya jerks? Must you be in everything? This is one of those Hollywood trends where you can't help but wonder "when the hell is this shit going to end?" (kind of like that trend in the late 90's where we were somehow supposed to believe Renee Zellweger was hot). Now don't get me wrong, some of these films are amazing. Zombieland was hilarious and the Blade trilogy was pretty awesome (until I found out he wasn't paying his taxes, communist), but for the most part it just seems like someone has a shitty script and an exec is like "Fuck it, throw a vampire in there? Sold."
As a writer, it's really got me down on my prospects. I can't help but imagine my first pitch meeting will go something like this:

Agent: Well, they loved your script.
Me: Oh my God really? They said that?!
Agent: They sure did. They just had one request.
Me: Great! What is it?
Agent: They'd love for you to have more monsters in it.
Me: More what?
Agent: Monsters.
Me: But there aren't any monsters in it.
Agent: Exactly. So they think it could stand to have a few more.
Me: I don't understand.
Agent: This is an easy fix kid. They'd just like you to tweak the script slightly to make it less of a satirical comedy on the state of our nation and more of a romantic comedy where a vampire and a werewolf fall in love.
Me: WHAT?!
Agent: They said they'll pay 500k.
Me: Done. (Though I haven't encountered the situation yet, I'm fully prepared to accept the likelihood that I will be a total sellout)