RIBS

1. Halloween/MGM Wknd/$ 26.5 Total/$ 26.5
2. Superbad/Sony Wknd/$ 12.5 Total/$ 89.3
3. Balls of Fury/Rogue Wknd/$ 11.3 Total/$ 11.3
4. The Bourne Ultimatum/Universal Wknd/$ 10.3 Total/$ 199.7
5. Rush Hour 3/New Line Wknd/$ 8.6 Total/$ 120.4
6. Mr. Bean’s Holiday/Universal Wknd/$ 6.0 Total/$ 19.0
7. The Nanny Diaries/MGM Wknd/$ 5.1 Total/$ 15.3
8. Death Sentence/Fox Wknd/$ 4.2 Total/$ 4.2
9. WAR/Lion’s Gate Wknd/$ 4.1 Total/$ 17.0
10. Stardust/Paramount Wknd/$ 3.9 Total/$ 31.1


JUST DON’T TOUCH PROM NIGHT!
The Halloween remake opens at number one and you know you’re getting old when the culture of your youth is deemed “forgotten enough” to be remade. I was the generation of that big slasher phase that was kicked off by the original Halloween. This also began Jamie Lee Curtis’s reign as the 80’s screen queen, which was considered by some to be destiny as her mom was Janet Leigh, who was in the original slasher movie, Psycho---but unlike her mother, Jamie Lee lived to see the end of all her movies (except for The Fog, but she wasn’t the star). Now someone had the idea of remaking the granddaddy of teen-slasher pics as part of the new torture porn movement by none other than Rob Zombie himself. I always tended to separate Rob Zombie from the rest because, well, he calls himself Rob fuckin’ Zombie, so obviously the man has some sense of humor about himself, but it doesn’t seem to translate to this. His imagination pretty much stops at his name. He just wants a gory, high body count horror movie like all the rest. What’s weird is, didn’t they just wrap up the original, complete with Jamie Lee Curtis making an appearance? And Michele Williams back at her Dawson’s Creek peak? Busta Rhymes? Anyone remember? Anyone? Bueller? Oh, and did I mention I didn’t see this and never will, not because it’s scary, because Rob Zombie is too fucking incompetent for that, but because it’s stupid and I don’t like the torture porn. Next up in the recycling bin? Terror Train. I shit you not.

LIKE A CINEMATIC VERSION OF THE CLAP, IT SPREADS
Superbad is down to number two and by this time next summer, expect to be deluged by a half-dozen attempts to cash in on this. With a budget of $20M and a return of $90M everybody on board is getting cheese on their Whopper and now everyone else in town wants the same cheese. Just as Porky’s spawned a million teen sex comedies in the 80’s and American Pie did it again about a decade ago, this will give birth to a new run for all the new teenagers. You know what people tend to forget because it was sooo much better than everything around it? Risky Business. Style, wit and execution aside, it was a teen sex comedy. Horny teenage boy meets hooker and opens bordello to pay for wrecking dad’s Porsche? That ain’t Ibsen, kids. And it was one of two teen sex comedies Tom Cruise did. Can you name the other? Here’s a hint: his leading lady was Shelly Long. No, I am not kidding.

‘CAUSE TESTICLE JOKES ARE ALWAYS FUNNY. ALWAYS. YOU’LL SEE.
Balls of Fury opens at number three and it’s just a week of regurgitation, because this is a spoof of Enter The Dragon, much in the way of “Fist Full of Yen” in Kentucky Fried Movie. The difference is, a “Fist Full of Yen” was consistently funny, while Balls of Fury, runs out of gas much too quickly. The problem is they simply lack the skill to maintain this. If they cut this down to a 20-minute parody it would have been nothing short of brilliance. At this length, not so much. And it had so much going for it, from the absolute absurdity of underground ping-pong death matches to Christopher Walken as a Chinese crime lord (with no make-up and his “Noo Yawk” accent intact) but it lacks the necessary manic energy. Not to mention there are too few jokes to have so many fail. Something like this should have had five jokes going on at any one time. Your main joke, two minor jokes, one visual in the background and a follow-up to the main joke. I hate to formularize comedy that way, but when you look at the great ones, there is a rhythm there that doesn’t exist here. It’s sad when the most memorable thing about this film is that Maggie Q (playing a character named Maggie to show you the imagination present) apparently has a dragon tattoo on her upper thigh. It seems to be real, as it’s only accidentally shown and not part of the film at all. And for god’s sake get her a meal. Whomever though it would be a cheap thrill to stick her in a tank top and shorts needs to question his heterosexuality or the depth of his Asian fetish, as the only round thing on her body is her head. This is her third disappointment in becoming the next Asian Girl Of The Moment (neither Mission Impossible 3 nor Live Free or Die Hard did as well as hoped). Pretty soon, she’ll be doing direct to video vampire lesbian movies like Lucy Liu. Which reminds me I need to rent that. It’s not really a vampire lesbian movie, but she does have a bloody, nude, semi-sex scene with Carla Gugino, which was released online to stimulate interest in the movie. It didn’t work, but I likes me some Carla.

RUMORS OF HIS DEATH AND SLIMNESS WERE GREATLY EXAGGERATED
The Bourne Ultimatum is down to number four, followed by Rush Hour 3 at number five and between it and War, John Lone has two films in the top ten---which is funny because I could have sworn he died a year or so ago. I think I even said so here. Ooops. Well, he’s alive and well and making movies where guys kick each other in the head and it apparently pays well, because he hasn’t missed any meals.

KEVIN BACON TO BRUCE LEE…GO!
Mr. Bean’s Holiday is down to number six, followed by The Nanny Diaries at number seven and opening at number eight is Death Sentence, from the man who brought you Saw. Yeah, someone sees the writing on the wall of the future of torture porn horror and is trying to branch out. If you think this smells of Death Wish, it’s not just you. This is actually based on a book by the author of Death Wish, who knew which side his bread was buttered on. It’s the same as every revenge movie you’ve ever seen: loved one killed, formerly mild-mannered person becomes killing machine. Hell, you’re going to see it again in a few weeks from Jodie Foster, though probably superior as it has a real director in Neil Jordan. While I’m no snob when it comes to a good revenge movie, this looks like anything but and only adds to the great Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, because not only is the ubiquitous John Goodman in it which opens up thousands of other possibilities, but Aisha Tyler, who is also in Balls of Fury, which now connects him to the entire Hong Kong film industry.

OH WE FORGOT FUNNY ANTI-STEREOTYPE ROLE WHICH ISN’T FUNNY
WAR is down to number nine and you gotta pity your average Asian actor struggling to make it. You don’t want to play into stereotypes, but when a job comes up, you gotta take it ‘cause rent has to be paid. So your sad choices in this world are Balls of Fury, which is at least supposed to be a joke, or WAR where you have to keep a straight face onset, and I bring this up because you will see familiar faces in the cast. A lot of “Hey, didn’t he play the Overbearing Father To Daughter In Love With A White Guy/Crime Lord/Crime Lord’s Assistant/Head of Electronics Corporation/Crime Lab Guy?” Though in this particular case in a rare turn in form, Hiro Kanagawa, who plays a crime lord’s assistant here, actually played the principal of Smallville High for a while on TV. I’m sure he hated being killed off, because it sent him back to this kind of work. At least he had an exit. The old black guy they replaced him with (again, you’d know him if you saw him, because all he plays is The Old Black Guy) just kinda disappeared. But someone getting a quick, hard dose of ethnic movie reality is Devon Aoki, who plays the Japanese Crime Lord’s Daughter (I think she shares one whole scene with Jet Li and none with Jason Statham). Get used it, baby. Ain’t much else here for you. I almost feel bad for her, because she was spoiled getting to play French in D.E.B.S. and even her role as a hot girl driver in 2 Fast 2 Furious wasn’t about race. But coming from money, she really doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to. I know she’s a model too, but I’m still thinking that’s a joke just like the career of Audrey Quock. Why are all the Asian models in high fashion ugly? Is there some genetic curse that says once they break 5’7” they have to give up the looks?

STILL SUCKING TO BE ME…AN ONGOING SERIES
So the last of the meds were on Tuesday, which was just in time for the Labor Day weekend and in theory, this meant me in margaritaville from Friday afternoon until Sunday night, with Monday to recover. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way because on the last two days of my anti-seizure meds, I suddenly felt lightheaded the way I hadn’t for a while. Now the problems is, drinking also creates its own feeling of light-headedness and vertigo, albeit a much more pleasurable one, but if I’m still getting these moments I can’t imagine they’d combine well with an artificially created one. Oh, and I have this vision of tequila reaching my brain and killing me. They stopped as quickly as they came and yeah, maybe they were related to being up until four in the morning and not eating breakfast, but I’m a little freaked and am going to stay that way.

BABYBACK MY ASS, I WANT THAT ADULT PIG!
So, I think we may have finally solved the issue of keeping off those remaining ten pounds: ribs. See, when I saw Manda Bala they had a scene with churroscuro. which made me want barbeque. There’s a place called Daisy Mae on 11th Ave, which I’ve walked by for years on my way to the gym ever since it opened just up the street from H&H. I’ve never been because when it first opened it had ridiculously short hours, so dinner was impossible, but now with a little success they are open later. And it is not a good thing. I’ve eaten there three times in less than a week. Bear in mind, every portion lasts me two days! I’ve had the sweet & sticky ribs, the dry rub ribs and the jumbo rib. And if you’re giggling at the names of “sweet & sticky” “dry rub” and “jumbo” then you need to grow up. And after you grow up, haul your ass over there and get us some ribs. Get the “plate” which comes with two sides and I want the cream corn with cheddar and the spicy cornbread (which isn’t spicy but sweet). Oh, and even when I briefly felt nauseous the next day from eating one, I still finished off the leftovers that night. Yep, we’re going to lose sight of our feet again any day now.

THE EVIL ONE’S FAVORITE CARTOON
So, the new Flash Gordon series sucks ass, but it reminded me that I do like Flash Gordon so I looked for other, better sources. Now the movie still sucks. Despite a great set design and good supporting actors (Topol, Max Van Sydow, Christopher Plummer, Brian Blessed and Timothy Dalton), it was a boring as this show. They’ve yet to truly package the original series so what’s left are the original print comics (good luck finding Vol. 1 of the recent reprints) and the 1979 series from Filmation. It was the result of a made-for-TV animated movie that Pauline Kael just loved, notable for using a great deal of rotoscoping, which is filming people or objects and then drawing over them. It did well so they made it into a series using the movie to make up the first four episodes. Because growing up in Georgia occasionally sucked ass, my local NBC affiliate decided not to run it, so I never fucking saw the show. Until now. Last year the entire series was put on DVD. I bought it off eBay and that’s how I spent my Labor Day weekend. Gettin’ my geek on with the reason Star Wars existed (George Lucas tried to get the rights and when he couldn’t, he created Star Wars). Because it was late 70’s and before Korean slave labor, there’s a noticeable cheapness to it. A lot of the action is implied rather than shown. You’ll see Flash charge at a bad guy and then see the bad guy on the ground but miss the fight. It’s actually funny after awhile. There’s also how a lot of what went into this from the voices used to the designs were later used in He-Man (it’s noted in the DVD extras). But what makes this better than pretty much every other version of Flash Gordon is that the executive producer loved Flash Gordon. He wasn’t just some guy trying to cash in on Star Wars by digging up one of the original space heroes. He was intent on adapting the original series as best he could with what he had and there are even instances when you see the style of Alex Raymond’s original artwork. But obviously two things he couldn’t do were the racism of the original (it’s not “Ming” for nothing as both Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon were created during the “yellow peril” period in America when for some reason they were terrified of Asians) and all the S&M. No, I’m not kidding. If you took out every scene of someone being beating whipped or flogged, you’d lose a third of the series. Especially the girl-on-girl flogging.

WHY PAY FOR THEATER?
There are good and bad things about living in a neighborhood that has essentially become Upper Chelsea. The bad thing, as for any straight male in a predominantly gay neighborhood (gay male, I should say which now makes me wonder where the lesbians live), is that you’re always one of the fattest, poorly dressed guys around, because everyone else is sporting a six pack and looking like he’s got a personal dresser. Where once groups of young men might stand on a corner and snort derisively “Queer” whenever the unfortunate member of the minority walked by, now you’ll get an equally contemptuous, “Breeder” under someone’s breath as his pals snicker. But the upside is the free entertainment in the streets. At any given time you can find yourself walking along and suddenly hear a group of men singing Whitney Houston’s “So Emotional” in perfect harmony without even trying (yes, it happened). And if you’re walking along and you think you hear a bunch of young black women singing some dance tune you’ve never heard or---again, in perfect harmony---it’s actually two gay guys sharing an iPod (yes, that happened too).

THIS IS WHY IT’S OKAY TO STEAL CABLE; THEY SUCK
If you’re wondering why this is late, it’s not because I had a busy weekend (if you know me, you realize how impossible that is), but because I have no internet connection, thank you very fucking much Time Warner Cable. And I won’t have it again until the technician comes by on Wednesday, so I’ve been forced to join the hipsters by taking my powerbook out to fucking Starbucks (my Jennifer, she doesn’t like to leave home). Yes, it sucks as much as I imagined. First of all, this isn’t fucking Seattle; broadband is not free. You pay. Secondly, they play whatever fucking CD they’re pushing so you’re trapped with that shit. And finally, there are people there and you how I feel about people. Especially people who feel the need to go to Starbucks with their fucking computers! Why!?! You can’t even porn surf there! And writing this with my pants on is more difficult than you think. The keys to good rants have always been booze and freely breathing balls. The booze is gone. Imprison my nuts and I might as well stop writing this thing.