The other by-products of an explicit Spider-Man/Marvel Cinematic Universe (such as Spidey in future Avengers movies, or Spidey as part of the ‘Civil War’ storyline that will comprise the third Captain America film) are just gravy. I wanna see my great Spider-Man movie! Come on! I’m a grown man who still refers to him as Spidey! Make this happen, Marvel! Stay the hell out of the creative decisions, Sony, and just sit back and count the money as it rolls in!
It’s probably for the best that I never became a professional wrestler. I’d run into too many logistical problems trying to cut a promo.
“The first thing I want to be done, is to get that piece of crap out of my ring. Don't just get him out of the ring, get him out of the WWF because I've proved son, without a shadow of a doubt, you ain't got what it takes anymore! You sit there and you thump your Bible and you say your prayers, and it didn’t get you anywhere. Talk about your psalms, talk about John 3:16. Mark 3:16 says…uh, Mark 3:16 says ‘These are the twelve he appointed: Simon (to whom he gave the name Peter).’ “
“Are you threatening to rename Jake Roberts?”
“Um, yeah! That’s right! Call him Peter…..er…..’The Cheater’ Roberts instead!”
“This suddenly became a lot less intimidating.”
“Shut up! You’re a mean poo-poo head! *gestures to the crowd* You’re ALLLLLLL mean poo-poo heads!”
And then I’d just run backstage crying, probably tripping and falling over something along the way.
There are a lot of great things about ’Better Call Saul,’ ranging from a plum role for the heavily underrated Michael McKean to just simply being back in the Breaking Badverse version of Albuquerque. The show also allowed me to wonder: do I know anyone in the witness protection program? You know, various people from work, or random acquaintances or something — what if I only know their “second life,” so to speak, and this is their cover identity after a background that involves god knows what? It’s probably not a good sign that I can think of a half-dozen people off the top of my head who could easily have a shady past.
I won’t going to see the 50 Shades Of Grey movie since, y’know, obviously, yet I always enjoy reading about how a film production ends up being an absolute train wreck. Case in point, this piece by Gawker’s Kelly Conaboy about how the movie’s press tour literally couldn’t be going worse since a) the two stars, Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan, clearly don’t like each other and b) they also clearly don’t think the movie is any good, in part due to the lack of chemistry and in (larger) part because the novel was such claptrap to begin with.*
* = It’s possible that this is just an elaborate marketing campaign based around the fact that anyone would be embarrassed to be seen actually reading ’50 Shades Of Grey,’ with the logic being that “Don’t worry folks, let’s all share in our collective embarrassment! Even the actors are ashamed!” If there’s really some Pete Campbell-type who came up with that idea, I hope he reads this post and sadly nods while then surfing back to Craigslist to check for job postings.
While I don’t care if the 50 Shades movie fails, I do worry that it’ll ruin the careers of everyone involved since I actually like Dakota Johnson. I’m one of the few who watched “Ben & Kate,” her fantastic but short-lived sitcom with Nat Faxon in 2012, and she was terrific in that role. Maybe that’s the problem; Johnson’s talent is in comedy whereas the 50 Shades people require her to be toned-down, dramatic and, I dunno, open to being whipped or bound or whatever the hell happens in that book. Clearly the answer here was to make the 50 Shades adaptation into an outright farce, with Faxon as the rich weirdo instead of Dornan. And then instead of the sex stuff, just make them brother and sister trying to adjust to living together. And cast Lucy Punch as a friend. Essentially, just make a Ben & Kate movie, Hollywood.
Aiden Gillen and Alexis Denisof should star together in a movie called “Our Fake Accents Sound More Natural Than Our Actual Speaking Voices.” The title needs some work, admittedly. Ironically, it doesn’t sound natural enough.