What would it be like to live in a world with no TV or movies? How would boring people escape pre-sex conversation? How would dysfunctional families avoid making eye contact at dinner? Holy Jesus, how would we entertain ourselves while waiting to be finished with this burdensome thing called life?

The Writers Guild of America may force us to answer these awful questions soon. I must admit, at first I didn't give a shit about their little strike. Though I am fascinated with pop culture as a phenomenon, I don't own a television and I rarely see Hollywood movies, preferring instead to occupy myself with the time-tested art of looking shifty in bars in the hopes that boys will talk to me. The average working writer in Hollywood makes about $200,000 a year, making it tough for most of us unwashed, underpaid magazine-and-blog hoi palloi to feel any sympathy, not to mention people who actually labor for a living. And I'd venture to say that in the absence of TV, the world would go on. Everyone would eventually go back to entertaining themselves in the manner of the ancient cave peoples: taking peyote and staring at the clouds, making crude drawings of animals, praying to terrifying gods to smite their enemies, attending swinger parties, humping rocks, inventing fire, etc.

But then I read a little bit more about it, and realized it's a situation that affects more than just Hollywood writers and TV-addicts. Exhibit A: this email written by Dale Alexander, who works as a grip on The Office, discussing the strike's far-reaching ramifications (via the LA Times):

Who are the assholes here? On the one hand, already-wealthy writers are being babies about their salaries at the expense of much poorer and less whiny people's jobs. In my best Veruca Salt voice:
"But I want TWO million dollars! One million just isn't enough to purchase all the hookers, blow, tigers, sharks, tiger-sharks, and assorted luxuries I require! How am I to live? (weeping a little) What will become of me?"

On the other hand, studios are insanely greedy and evil. Despite being the creative backbone of the biz, writers get only a small fraction of the profits that actors, producers, and executives enjoy in this multi-billion dollar industry. As most writers know, it's harder for genius to flow without a little green motivation involved.

Networks are behaving in a typically asinine way. NBC has pulled the nastiest shit so far; in an effort to guilt Jay Leno into crossing the picket line to return to his post as host of The Tonight Show, they have threatened to fire all non-writing staff if the strike continues and Leno does not return. This is akin to putting a gun to a dog's head and saying "If you do not let us continue to take advantage of people, Jay Leno, we will fucking shoot this adorable puppy and it will be all your fault. WHY ARE YOU KILLING THIS PUPPY, JAY LENO? WHY?!" Seriously, fuck those guys.

Beloved daytime pixie Ellen Degeneres has been getting a lot of shit from WGA for writing her own material and continuing to do her show, but in light of the aforementioned factors involved, I don't think anyone can really judge her for this choice. Plus, I highly doubt the presence of Ellen on daytime television is going to make or break the deal for either side.

I'm not going to propose a solution, because this is a shitty situation all around. However, I'd encourage the writers and studios to take a long hard look at history; the writers' strike of 1988 was pretty much a lose-lose scenario for everyone involved. Evil head honchos and cranky funny-makers had best bang their heads together fast and hard, because they are only headed for disaster.

And as for the rest of us, in the immortal words of my mother, "Read a fucking book." Or hump some rocks, or go to a bar and look shifty, or have a meaningful conversation with someone. Whatever.

Last night in Los Angeles, After Dark Films and all its scantily clad, fright-fest loving elite took over club Basque off the corner of Hollywood Blvd. and Vine, eager to sink their fangs into the night's festivities. The highlight, expectedly, was the much anticipated crowning of Miss Horrorfest 2007. Those in attendance feasted their eyes on sexy trapeze artists and red light district dancers who shimmied above them in glass boxes. Below, patrons mingled with fire breathers, sword dancers, and a contortionist who gets major props for managing to squeeze himself into a toilet seat. You sir, are truly an artiste.

Amongst the party's ghoulish guests were After Dark mastermind Courtney Solomon, Bloody Disgusting's Spooky Dan, Missy Suicide and crew, some George Clooney look-alike (we assume the real George was busy needling his Fabio voodoo doll.) But of course, the belles of the ball were the four Miss Horrorfest Finalists: Nixon, Countess Bathory, Mistress Malice and Sweet Dead Sarah.

The crowd waited with baited breath as last year's Miss Horrorfest, Black Betty, took the stage to announce this year's winner. Much to our dismay, Nixon was runner up and Mistress Malice was officially crowned this year's Queen of Scream. Onlookers were more than a little disappointed when, amid her tears of joy, a bucket of pig's blood (a la Carrie) didn't come pouring down. So anticlimactic.

Regardless, the people have spoken and we would like to extend our congratulations to Mistress Malice, Miss Horrorfest 2007. Nixon, you're still the Queen of Scream in our hearts, and darkest fantasies, for that matter.

Tonight, get yourself to the movies and check out the scariest flicks around as the After Dark Horrorfest “Eight Films To Die For” creeps into theaters everywhere. Films on this year's roster include Borderland, Crazy Eights, The Deaths of Ian Stone, Lake Dead, Mulberry Street, Nightmare Man, Tooth and Nail and Unearthe. Hitting over 300 screens across the country, the After Dark Horrorfest runs through November 18th and is the largest commercial film festival in the world.

Check out the trailer below!

Or, maybe Fabio mopped the floor with Clooney.

Holy shit, what? I'm not really a fan of tabloidy shit, but, man, this is just too odd not to write about. I can't imagine a more surreal battle. Big Bird versus Gordon Ramsey, Seinfeld versus David Hasselhoff, Mike Tyson versus Joan Rivers and a poodle... None of those has the ring or the cachet of this battle.

I honestly wish I could write about odd fights every single day of my life. However, this Clooney/Fabio happening so far from the apocalypse makes me wonder if every battle after this one will be anticlimactic? Or, does it mean the apocalypse is actually coming sooner than we thought? I thought Kid Rock versus Tommy Lee was something, but this makes that look like a three-round preliminary bout.

Already, that right there, is super-fucking weird. Picture it. It's nuts... Had the story stopped right there, I'd probably still have written about it.

What? You're sitting with Fabio, what the hell do you care about Clooney for? Take pictures of Fabio eating stuff with his giant cro-mag head! I don't know about the tabloids, but I'd pay 20 bucks for a shot of him eating a baby corn, or slurping some chowder.

Uh, oh. Everybody be cool... I picture Clooney removing his five-o'clock shadow, folding it, and gently placing it on the table, in preparation for the fight.

I'm picturing Fabio opening up a can of "I Can't Believe it's not Whoop-Ass," but then setting it down nearby, just in case.

That's the best part. We have no idea who won! What happened? Is Fabio dead? Is Clooney scarred beyond the limits of his "ruggedly handsome" label? Will he now be refered to as "partially handsome"? Or, perhaps even, "ruggedly okay looking"?

I was leaning towards Clooney but... it's tough. Too many intangibles... Who's older? Does buffoonish-ness impede one's abilty to throw punches? Did Brad Pitt jump in?

The world awaits answers...


Hat tip: defamer


TheCoolerKing honestly thinks he'd have a decent shot of taking out Fabio.

All Hallows Eve has come and gone and that means it is finally -- yes finally -- time to crown this year's Queen of Scream. As you all know, the four sexy finalists -- Nixon, Countess Bathory, Mistress Malice and Sweet Dead Sarah -- shacked up together in a house in Los Angeles for one week and fought it out to win horror’s most illustrious crown, after which they packed their bags and headed to New York for one hell of a Halloween.

To catch up on all the finalist episodes you missed, watch here and be sure to log in and vote on each video for your favorite to win. To vote, all you need to do is leave a comment on each webisode specifying your favorite screamer. Multiple comments will not be honored so there is absolutely no need to flood the YouTube boards. After today, all the comments will be tallied and the winner announced tomorrow night at the Horrorfest Party in Hollywood. The lady who takes the crown wins $50,000, fame, glory, a year of exotic travel as the reigning Miss Horrorfest.

So, quick, before it's too late, vote for your favorite finalist now. Also, don't forget that November 9th through the 18th, the After Dark Horrorfest “Eight Films To Die For” creeps into theaters everywhere. Films on this year's roster include Borderland, Crazy Eights, The Deaths of Ian Stone, Lake Dead, Mulberry Street, Nightmare Man, Tooth and Nail and Unearthe. Hitting over 300 screens across the country, the After Dark Horrorfest is the largest commercial film festival in the world.

See you there!

That's what you need to ask yourself, if, like Sylvestor Stallone, you've announced plans to star in a remake of a Bronson film.

This is not an impossibly high bar. I love Bronson and he's done a hell of a job in many of my favorite movies. The Great Escape, The Magnificent Seven, The Fucking Dirty Dozen, The absolutely perfect Once Upon a Time in the West. I'd even prefer Hard Times, over most of today's action movies.

However, as tough as he is, he's not the toughest actor of all time. Which is why this isn't an unfair challenge for anyone looking to get into the Charles Bronson movie remake business.

Plenty of long dead legends were tougher and could've done it. Lee Marvin? "Which movie would you like, sir? Take your pick." Robert Mitchum? Yeah, easily. Steve McQueen? No question. James Coburn... That one could go either way, but I say yes.

Clint Eastwood is still alive, and still tougher. So's Eli Wallach. Possibly. (Well, he's alive anyway.) Hackman, tougher than Bronson? Nah... Redford? Sure, Bronson Pinchot, maybe. Not Charles.

As far as more contemporary guys, I'd say Russel Crowe has a decent shot. As does Daniel Craig... Sure, he's not a movie star, but if Dennis Farina got somebody to back his film, he'd have no complaints from me... Nah, wait, you know what, take him off. This isn't an exact science and there's something too "urban," about him... Being awesome in Midnight Run is a fine accomplishment, but it doesn't make you Charles Bronson. Kurt Russell? Yeah, of course, he's Kurt Russell.

As much as Stallone is, and as much as he's accomplished, any honest assessment of his Bronson-ness, would find him lacking...

He shouldn't be remaking Death Wish or any other Bronson movie.

Oh and for any other actors mulling over the assignment, start with Stallone, if you're not tougher than him, don't bother with Bronson.

*****

I'm not gonna do the whole "why do they fucking remake things" rant this time, because it's exhausting, but I will say that I don't get why they're bothering with this property considering they did a Kevin Bacon version (of the sequel to the book, but still) earlier this year and then someone else did a fairly similar Jodie Foster one and, oh yeah, every other movie made nowadays has this plot.




TheCoolerKing is thinking about Netflixing the original Death Wish.

A&E has suspended production on "Dog the Bounty Hunter" issuing the statement:

I know that's very vague. Here's the deal. Dog was on the phone with his son, Tucker who also works in the family bail bond business. Unlike Alec Baldwin, Dog did not call his offspring a "little pig" but instead demanded that Tucker break up with his black girlfriend, Monique.

Now here is where it gets tricky. It's not like Dog is racist or anything, heavens no. Dog doesn’t care if Monique is black or Mexican. (That's very big of him!) All that Duane Dog is saying is that no son of his is going to bring a black girl around the family business because she will overhear them using the N-word. Monique will then tattle on Dog Dad and the empire that he's worked so hard to build will be destroyed.

You can hear his nonsense for yourself on this audio clip.

If you're a self-respecting person with a job and you don’t want the person in the cubical next to you to hear the audio, read this:

Man, Dog is hardcore. He doesn't care that his son is in love. He's not budging on this one. He must at all times maintain his right to use the N-word!

I don’t know who is worse, Dog or the idiot on the TMZ.com message board who wrote:

Yeah! No fair! Let's all stamp our feet! White people don’t get to do anything fun anymore!

I know most people are probably not surprised at Dog's true nature and will ask me what is the point of bringing this up? I guess I'm a horrible judge of character. I actually got teary-eyed the few times I caught episodes of "Dog the Bounty Hunter." After Duane Chapman apprehended his criminal he always soothed the souls of the neighbors looking on in horror. He would do what he called "a healing" which consisted of instructing the onlookers to forgive the person in handcuffs. I thought it was strangely beautiful, this gravely-voiced muscle man with fried hair, getting all spiritual on people's asses.

As far as the A&E Network waiting for the investigation to be completed before they decide on Dog's fate...what's to decide? We heard the audio. Dog says the N-word in his personal life and now we all know that. How awkward will it be next time he has to handcuff a black dude on the show? He's done. (If I find out that my favorite drug counselor, Jeff VanVonderen of A&E's "Intervention" says things like "damn wetbacks" in his spare time, I'm going to kill myself.)

Dog's black pastor, Tim Storey, told TMZ.com that he was shocked at Dog's use of the N-word.

And then he probably came home and said, "Honey, I helped some little N-words today. Gall dang it, they can be cute."

Dog reached out to Al Sharpton (because it's the law now, I guess) but is still waiting to hear back. In the meantime, Dog repented over the phone today to Pastor Storey.

Imus? You wish, Dog. Imus is just an old man who thinks he's a shock-jock. Besides he only said "nappy-headed ho". You said the N-word. You're among the ranks of Michael Richards and even Mel Gibson now. Maybe you guys should all get together and do a healing.

SuicideGirls Visits Set of Repo!: The Genetic Opera Part II
by Ryan Stewart

Continued from Part 1...

The press day was pretty standard, with the actors being shuffled between print, radio and online interview opportunities on a high floor of the hotel. One thing I can point out about Paris Hilton, though, that you might not know -- she seems to be a compulsive doodler. During the Repo!: The Genetic Opera press conference she was writing or drawing intensely on some paper from start to finish. Press day concluded, I met in the lobby with the afore-mentioned online journalists and we went on a nice walking tour around Toronto to kill time, stopping at local book stores and a Starbucks where we just happened to run into Betsy Russell again. She gets around. And that was it -- back to the airport, another white-knuckled, death-cheating airplane ride back to NYC, and a car waiting to take me back to my apartment, courtesy of my pals at Lionsgate. I've transcribed a bit of the Repo! press conference below, which will give you a better understanding of the plot and characters. The film is scheduled to hit theaters in April 2008. Enjoy!

[The publicist begins by asking all the panelists to introduce themselves, before questions start]

Terrance Zdunich
Hi, everyone, I'm Terrance Zdunich. I'm the co-composer and creator of Repo!. In the film, I play the character of Grave Robber. Grave Robber robs graves to extract a futuristic drug. So he's a grave-robbing, drug-dealing, narratorial character.

Sarah Brightman
Hi, everybody. I'm Sarah Brightman and I play Blind Mag. Blind Mag was originally blind and she was given new eyes, or somebody elses' eyes, by GeneCo, the company. In order to survive, she's, in many ways, sold her soul to the devil ... it's an amazing part and I've had an amazing time with this great cast of people.

Paul Sorvino
I'm Paul Sorvino, head of the Rotti Largo crime family. Close the doors! [Laughter] I've had an extraordinary opportunity to be with a cast of extraordinary people. This is the first time that I've gotten a chance in movies to use my operatic voice, which I have used in the Seattle opera, the New York City opera, recordings and concerts. It's something most people don't know about me, that I'm an operatic tenor. And this is a great role, as well. Never have so many worked for so little for so long. [Points at a producer] He took out his wallet the other day and moths flew out. But this is a great experience and it's been an honor to be part of it.

Paris Hilton
Hey everyone, I'm Paris Hilton. I play Amber Sweet. I'm so honored and excited to be part of a project like this. It's so unique, this cast of people, we're like the Repo! family. I've had a really incredible time. I love the people. They rock. And this character, I play Paul's daughter. This daughter always wants attention, so she's always changing her appearance and she's kind of messed up because her dad's a work-a-holic. We're kind of a demented family. Grave Robber is kind of like my lover-slash-supplier. It's a really incredible movie. People are really gonna like it.

Darren Lynn Bousman
I am Darren Bousman, the director of this merry band of misfits. I've been with the project for six years, something like that, doing the stage production in 2002 in Los Angeles. I'm honored to continue to be a part of it. It's amazing to work with this diverse group of talent. To see Paris Hilton, Sarah Brightman and Ogre in a movie together just makes me smile. Not counting everyone else. So it's great to be here.

Mark Burg
I'm Mark Burg, and with Orin and Carl Mazzocone, we run Twisted Pictures. My job is done once everyone's up here. I get Darren here and the cast, and I have the easiest job in town.

Oren Koules
Hi, I'm Oren Koules, the other owner of Twisted Pictures. You know what? There was a guy three and a half years ago who came to us, and he was editing videos and running errands and he had a script, and he had a script called The Desperate, and Gregg Hoffman, our partner who died, saw the script and pitched it to me, and three years later he's done three amazing Saw films for us. We bet on him and his dream, and it was one of the best bets we ever made.

Anthony Head
I'm Anthony Stewart Head, and I play basically a caring, sharing father who has to kill people on the side. I was blackmailed by Mr. Sorvino's character into working for him and I repossess people's organs.

Alexa Vega
Hi, I'm Alexa Vega. I play Shilo Wallace. Shilo is just kind of this girl who's been stuck in her room her entire life because her overbearing father keeps her there. She's kind of a struggling character, because she hates her mom, who died when she was born, but she basically hates her because she gave her this rare blood disease. Because of that, her father doesn't want her to go anywhere, because he's afraid of losing her. So Shilo is basically stuck in her room until she sneaks out, and she kind of becomes the Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz, as Carl Mazzocone put it. She kind of leads you through the film and you go along meeting these crazy characters such as the Grave Robber and the Largo family and Blind Mag, her Godmother, and it kind of reveals Shilo's hidden life, the life she didn't know she had. She starts as a little girl and becomes a young woman. It works.

Bill Moseley
I play Luigi Largo, another of the sons of Paul Sorvino, brother of Ogre and Paris, or Amber and Pavi. I'm the horror-wringer. My job is to make sure the blood flows, and I accomplish this with some conventional tools like knives and guns and unconventional tools like a fountain pen. I get along well with everybody, I've learned to play in the sandbox. I'm very excited because I'm played a lot of happy psychos in my life and this is one of the happiest. And I get to sing. Happy to be here, and here's my brother.

Nivek Ogre
I play Pavi, a narcissist with a mysoginistic twist -- I love women, but more for their faces than the actual content of them. I see them as objects, I guess, and I usually believe they're laughing with me, however I'm usually being laughed at more than anything. I'm really happy to be part of this. It's been a great role for me, coming from music, and it allows me to play under a mask. The make-up is amazing, and it's been a great experience.


Question: How gruesome will this movie be, and what will it be rated?

DB: This isn't Saw. The violence in Saw is an in-your-face, trying-to-disgust kind of violence, but there's more violence in this movie than people are expecting. In that little clip that showed, I think you kind of get a sense of it. Our brother over here, Luigi Largo, every time he's on screen he's killing people, ripping parts of their bodies out, and my man Ogre rips people's faces off and wears them, Repo Man repossesses organs all throughout the movie. So that gives you some clue. Grave Robber is in piles of dead bodies all around him -- it's violence, but it's comic, tongue-in-cheek violence. I think it's the kind of violence you're going to smile at, not regurgitate at. That said, there are some horrific things in the movie, but it's in the spirit of a Sin City type of thing, where the violence is just over the top. What's it going to be rated? It's harsh. Hopefully not NC-17. It's very sexy as well.

Question: Darren, what made you want Paris for this role? Her music is much different than the kind of music she's asked to perform here.

DB: This is something I've wanted to make for years and years, and I had to have the perfect cast. And so the casting process, as Carl Mazzocone can attest to, was one of the most arduous, painful things. It made me lose almost all of my hair. We met with numerous, numerous people for Amber. Great actresses, amazing actresses that I love and would love to work with, but none of them got it. None of them got what the movie was. When Paris came in, it was crazy, because I'll be honest -- I was a disbeliever, originally, when the name got thrown out. Everyone has this idea of what Paris Hilton is. When she walked into the room -- she met with Mark, Carl and myself -- and two seconds after she left the room, Carl and I just nodded and said, "That's her."

We continued to meet with people, but we always kept coming back to "No one has beaten what she did when she came in the first time" and we had an audition where she came back in to meet with everyone else, and she came in and left the room again and everyone's like, "Damn, that's her, but can she sing? Can she do this kind of music?" So I gave her a CD and I said, "I want you to come back the next day" ... so she comes back in the room ... she comes dressed as the part, she gets up on stage, rocks it out, says, "Thank you!" and walks out of the room. And they're like, "Did that just happen? She's the girl." Once she came in, there was no one who was not 100% convinced that she was Amber Sweet. Her music in this sounds nothing like her music on the CD. That's exciting -- you take someone who you think you know what they sound like, and then we take them and make them do goth rock. It's amazing -- her voice in this is incredible.

Question: Paris, did you take this role to defy people's expectations of you?

PH: Well, I was at this event in Los Angeles and I met Mark Burg, who told me about this project, and it sounded really interesting. They sent me the script, I loved it, I met with Darren and I really wanted this part. I knew it was going to be a hard part to get, because it was something so unlike me and like, nothing I've ever been asked to do. So I really just put all my heart and soul into it and rehearsed every single day and practiced with a voice coach and really learned the whole movie and that's why I got the part. Because I am this part. I'm having such an incredible time. Everyone is so nice and this movie is really... it's such a fun character to play. She's so outrageous. People have a lot of preconceived notions about me and that's not really who I am, and I'm hoping by this movie, people will see that.

Question: Anthony, how are you finding playing a character who is loving and caring by day and sinister by night?

AH: Well, I am loving and caring by day, and particularly sinister by night. [Laughter] You just take it one scene at a time. I must admit that the first scene we did, which is Shilo waking from a dream, I played it more caring and nurturing than Darren wanted. He made the call. He said, "No, there should be something going on here. This man is disturbed." Then, sort of fairly shortly after that, I did my most dramatic scene, which is "Thankless Job", which is an extraordinary song. It's one of the first things I heard when they were talking to me about it. In "Thankless Job", I basically wheel this guy out of a fridge, a big fridge, and he comes out in a wheelchair, and while I'm getting dressed this guy is trying to get up, and I finally push him over this large, slab-like structure and string him up and disembowel him. While singing. And when I say singing, I mean it's this bizarre, show-stopping number. It's a great song

Question: Terrance, talk about the variance in musical styles.

TZ: There's quite a range of musical styles as well as voices. When you watch the movie, you'll see how the voices really match the characters. We go from the operatic styles of Paul and Sarah, to rock n' roll with Anthony and myself. There's moments where Paul Sorvino grooves, and I say seriously, and it's bad-ass.

Question: Bill, how was your audition process for the film?

BM: When I was called in to audition, I was given a song to perform, and I got to admit I was a little nervous. I went to the studio to perform it and I had to follow a Pussycat Doll who was in there, and it was Darren and Joe and the people who were standing in the booth, and there was the Pussycat Doll, bumping and grinding, making the song her own, like something from a Vegas review, and I just thought, "Oh, shit..." I just wanted to get through the audition with a shred of dignity and no tomatoes thrown at me. The good news is I do take singing lessons, and have for a long time in anticipation of the Cornbugs World Tour, scheduled for 2080. ... so I had prepared the song and got up and the one thing that really saved my butt was a very forgiving microphone. I spoke into the microphone and it was really rich and there was echo and somehow, I was like, "Wow, this is great." So I belted it out, I got out, no tomatoes, and the day after Darren called and told me I kicked some ass.

Harvey Keitel’s due for a revival. Keitel’s started off strong, starring in Martin Scorcese’s feature debut Mean Streets, where his quiet turn as a guilt ridden gangster was overshadowed by a young, hyper-kinetic Robert De Niro. Throughout the ‘70s, the flat-faced brooder popped up in more Scorcese movies (Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, Taxi Driver) in small roles, and appeared in OK non-Scorcese movies like Blue Collar and dismal horrors like Saturn 3.

Then, in what I believe was an omen for his subsequent fall from grace, he was fired from Apocalypse Now after less than two weeks of filming, and
replaced by Martin Sheen. Until Quentin Tarantino revived his career by casting him in Reservoir Dogs, Keitel was stuck mainly in flops, failures and bizarre trash

After Dogs, Keitel enjoyed a career renaissance, acting in The Piano, Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction. Lately, Keitel’s run into a brick wall. I have a theory that it’s karmic shrapnel from co-starring in Little Nicky. Judging from his most recently announced role, things are likely to get worse before they get better. Variety reports that Keitel will play Jerry Springer in an opera loosely based on the day time talk show.

Keitel is the only cast member announced so far for the New York production. The show is only running for two nights, but that’s two nights too long. He’s horribly miscast as Springer. Keitel’s acting roles include Judas, Satan and a pimp named Sport. Jerry Springer’s a bland Midwestern with muted overtones of sleaze and shame. The obvious choice is Matthew Modine.

Isn’t this brand of pop art wankery about three fathoms below bad lieutenant’s dignity, anyway? The opera look like it’s supposed to be a clash of high and lowbrow sensibilities, but it’s not a new or even a good gag. The "Jerry Springer Show" was the height of trash culture outrage about five years ago, and fittingly, the opera was written in 2004. The new sign of civilization’s pending collapse is reality television -- how about it, opera writers?

As for Keitel, well, he needs a perfect movie role. Something accessible, yet weird, where he doesn’t play a cop, a gangster or get naked. Something like a Wes Anderson movie or an HBO series. Unfortunately, I’m guessing that National Treasure 2 isn’t going to let him stretch his wings the way he needs to.

SuicideGirls Visits Set of Repo!: The Genetic Opera Part 1
by Ryan Stewart

When Lionsgate Films invited me to visit the Toronto set of their new horror-opera Repo!: The Genetic Opera, my first thought was that the scariest thing I'd encounter would be the flight to-and-fro. Still, I sent the Lionsgate rep my passport number, they booked my trip, and I was committed. On the morning of October 12, I got up early and packed a bag for what would be a whirlwind trip -- up to Toronto by noon on Friday and back in New York by late Saturday night. (Assuming there was no mid-air collision or catastrophic engine failure or gremlins on the wing.)

I arrived in Toronto on schedule, went through customs quickly, greeted the Lionsgate toadie holding the big sign reading "LIONSGATE," and hopped into a van destined for the Metropolitan Hotel. By 3:00 pm on Friday, I was being driven to the set of Repo! in downtown Toronto, where I would run into some really nice people from both LA and NY film outlets, including Ryan Rotten of ShockTillYouDrop.com, "Spooky" Dan from Bloody-Disgusting.com, Kara Warner of UGO.com and several others. After my vanload of people was deposited outside of the nondescript set -- all movie sets look indistinguishable from auto mechanic garages from the outside -- it was time to get ready to wait.

Once the unit publicist was ready to give us our visitor badges and make us sign (in blood) our confidentiality agreements, we proceeded around to a narrow alleyway with crew trailers on one side and a tall fence on the other side. And what exactly was on the other side of that fence? Norton Smash! Sets for The Incredible Hulk were being built just steps away from where we stood, and while we waited for our tour guides to come out and start touring, several of us peered through the cracks in the fence. Mostly, all we could spot was the husk of a giant military plane and what appeared to be a burned-out building. These sets were just being built, so there was no action going on yet. Next, we were greeted by Darren Smith and Terrance Zdunich, creators of the stage play on which Repo! is based. Nice guys, they gave us a thorough explanation of exactly how Repo! evolved from stage to screen, what the project means to them, and how they are involved in the filming.

Repo! The Genetic Opera is an all-singing horror film set in the near future and follows the exploits of an evil biotech company called GeneCo, which offers all manner of organ replacements -- some life-saving, some cosmetic -- with the caveat that if you don't make your payments on time, they reserve the right to repossess. Repo! is not a musical -- it's a "techno-Wagnerian opera", as the creators described it. There will be no spoken dialog in the film of any kind, which is going to create huge challenges for Lionsgate marketing. Also, the film's songs have been recorded long in advance, so director Darren Lynn Bousman must follow a completely boxed-in filming formula, tailoring the story to match the pre-recorded music. The star of the movie is Paris Hilton, playing the vapid and spoiled daughter of GeneCo's president, who is played by the ebullient Paul Sorvino. I don't know if their characters survive the film, but the creators told us they have "20 ideas" for sequels should this one do well, and they also want to do Repo! graphic novels.

After their talk out by the trailers, Smith and Zdunich led us into the interior -- the sets. We walked through a dim, dusty passageway that led into a larger space with several adjoining set pieces, the biggest of which were a circus set and the large interior of an opera house, which we were told would soon be in use, with extras filling the rafters. All around, I noticed prototype one-sheets tacked up, with catch-phrases like "Say No to Zydrate" -- the heroin of the future. After walking around this area, we were ushered to the interior set of the house of Repo Man -- the villainous repossession agent who performs organ repo -- and then we saw the most interesting set, the "training room." This room contained cellophane-wrapped mannequins suspended in mid-air from chains stretching up to the high ceiling and a blood-covered, dentist's chair. You can imagine how this will fit into the plot -- a repo man performing a grisly live autopsy on a wayward debtor to take back their organs, singing all the while. Sweeney Todd meets Saw.

After seeing these key sets, our Lionsgate handlers took us around to to meet the film's prop master, who of course supervises boxes and boxes of props. The most interesting props were the numerous vacuum-sealed organs, including greasy, lifelike hearts and kidneys and entrails, which the repo men will go about extracting. We saw the money of the future, which looked like gold dubloons, we saw a large number of glowsticks that are being used in scenes of Zydrate injections, and we saw the various medical instruments that repo men will use for organ extraction. After, we went to visit the set designer, who told us that his primary instruction from director Bousman was that the film "not look like a Saw film." This part of the visit was truncated, however, because Bousman had gotten wind of our presence and came over to invite us to watch a two-minute DVD of compiled footage he'd shot and edited. So off we went, to a small director's tent with a video monitor set up in the middle of it.

Despite what the set designer said, the footage we saw looked a little like a Saw film to me, only set to music. There was the same washed-out, grimy color and the same emphasis on a dank, moldy atmosphere. I don't really know how else to describe it, since it was just a series of rapid cuts featuring the actors in futuristic, ornate costumes. (Paris Hilton apparently alters her appearance multiple times throughout the film, so I didn't even recognize her if she was in the sequence.) It went by so quick that after it was over, we immediately asked to see it again to get a better handle on it -- request denied! After this went down, the Lionsgate handlers announced that they were going to take us over to the costuming department, to which Bousman replied, sarcastically, "Ooooh, sounds exciting!" This was where a mini-breakdown in the schedule finally occurred. Bousman personally invited a few of us to huddle down in a doorway and watch a scene being filmed, featuring Paul Sorvino and Alexa Vega.

Lionsgate tried to keep the group moving on, since watching filming was apparently not on the schedule, but we staked out some space and hunkered down to watch, as Sorvino sung a few bars at the steps of the opera house, in some kind of ribbon-cutting ceremony scene, while circus extras clapped and applauded in front of him. This was my favorite part of the visit, and based on what I saw, Sorvino seems like he might be a handful to work with. Bousman apparently didn't call action loud enough on one of the takes and Sorvino decided to break his balls repeatedly about this, in front of everyone! It was right around this time that Paris Hilton suddenly walked by me, out of costume, and then disappeared out of sight. I guess she wasn't working that afternoon. After watching the scene be run through a few times, Bousman asked us journalists to come and stand amidst the extras to fill the frame, and that was fun, but I was standing near a stilt-walker and feared I'd knock him over.

After the quick visit -- two to three hours on set all-together, I'd say -- we were gathered up and taken back to the hotel. Later that night, we attended a private screening of Saw IV. Lionsgate was so worried about us leaking information that they trotted someone out before the film to threaten us with arrest and prosecution if we recorded any of it. They also took the extraordinary step of removing the last reel of the film, so that we couldn't blab the ending. Saw IV cast member and '80s scream queen Betsy Russell (Cheerleader Camp, Cheerleader Camp II) was in the audience and hanging out in the lobby afterwards -- at 44, I'm happy to report she still looks pretty great! After the screening, I went back to my room, watched Paul Verhoeven's Black Book on demand, ordered a modest room service dinner, and went to sleep. Saturday would be press day -- two all-day junkets at the hotel for Repo! and Saw IV.

Stay tuned for Part II tomorrow...

The Miss Horrorfest contest announced the finalists yesterday afternoon and our very own Nixon Suicide is one of the final 4!

Nixon's competition to become the next Queen of Scream are...
Countess Bathory
Mistress Malice
and Sweet Dead Sarah.

See photos of all the lovely semi-finalists here

Log on to http://www.youtube.com/horrorfest and watch the top 4 contestants as they fight to win horror’s most illustrious crown. We don't have long to wait, this year’s winner will be crowned in New York City on Halloween. She will win the crown and $50,000!

After Dark Horrorfest will screen “8 Films To Die For,” including Borderland, Crazy Eights, The Deaths of Ian Stone, Lake Dead, Mulberry Street, Nightmare Man, Tooth and Nail and Unearthed over the course of one week (2 weekends) from November 9 – 18 on over 300 screens across the country, making it the largest commercial film festival in the world.

If you want to get your all access passes for $5 off the regularly listed price click here: Horrorfest all access pass

Enter the following code: SUICIDE79

All Access Passes feature:

-One admission to each of the 8 Films to Die For® during your specified weekend. You can choose either November 9-11 or November 16-18 to experience the chilling world of terror that is Horrorfest 2007.
-One Goodie Bag per pass that features terrifying giveaways from top Horror Partners. Which could include a Limited Edition Horrorfest Collectible Sculpture that features the iconic Horrorfest Girl (quantities limited and will be awarded on a first come first serve basis)
-Many valuable coupons including one from the world famous SuicideGirls
-A discount on the purchase of Horrorfest 2006 DVD’s.
-Additional giveaways from Horrorfest Partners including GSN, FUSE, E! and AMC.
-Admission to one deadly Horrorfest party in selected cities nationwide - cities TBD

All Access Passes are available for a limited time only.

Watch Nixon's frightening adventures as she claws her way to the be the next queen of scream and get your all access pass to Horrorfest today!

xoxo
-missy

I know there seems to be no reason for me to be mad at Reese Witherspoon. Election and she had the good grace to give a tearful thanks to June Carter Cash during her Oscar acceptance speech for her Walk The Line win. (I know it’s been ten years but sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night still angry at Julia Roberts for not giving props to Erin Brokovich in her Oscar acceptance speech. I realize I live a very uncomplicated life.)

Anyway, I’m through with Reese. She’s off my list of favorite female celebrities and I’m not just jealous because my boyfriend has a crush on her or because my therapist referred to her as a warm, motherly person thereby insinuating that I was cold and barren. (I’ll tell you that story in a minute.) I’m upset with Reese because of a few seemingly innocent comments she made in a recent interview.

Wow. I thought. What a sexist, pig-headed assumption. This roving entertainment reporter just blatantly assumes that pretty, blonde Reese doesn’t understand that the United States transfers suspected terrorists to countries where controversial interrogation techniques (torture) are allowed.

And then I kept reading. Reese talked to the Associated Press about her thoughts on extraordinary rendition. She thought these thoughts, turned them over in her brain before letting them tumble down the water slide of her throat, out through her mouth and into someone's hand-held tape recorder.

If anything, "extraordinary rendition" sounds a little bit like a psychedelic rock band, it's hardly rigmarole and it is in the popular vernacular. Listen to any of the pleading talk-show hosts from Air America, read The New York Times,watch "Countdown with Keith Olbermann," information on extraordinary rendition is out there. What's not in my vernacular is saying stuff like, "I’m so sad that Ryan Phillippe cheated on me, it’s sent me straight into the arms of Jake Gyllenhaal.”

Maybe I am just looking for something to pick on her about. I am still miffed that she showed me up in church on Easter Sunday by cooing over my therapist’s baby while I sat there unaffected by the newborn, living, breathing thing. Long story short, I go to a super-progressive church. I believe in evolution and science. I'm a lefty liberal but I did attend an Easter Sunday service. Randomly enough my therapist, who I had not seen in months due to her maternity leave, was sitting in back of me. As if that is not exciting enough Reese Witherspoon was sitting next to me with her kids.

I shyly said, "Hi" to my therapist and her newborn baby girl. I tried not to make eye contact, unsure if meeting your therapist's baby presents some kind of boundary issue. Reese, on the other hand, cooed and oohed over my shrink's newborn. My therapist brought it up in a session where I was admitting that I have no interest in having children. She randomly said, "Speaking of that, did you see Reese Witherspoon doting on my baby? She's so warm. She's so motherly. She has that natural instinct."

So, maybe it’s because I’m a soulless, childless woman that I have time to know what extraordinary rendition is before my agent sends a script to me in which I play a woman who is affected by this “rigmarole.”

I really want to like Reese. I want her to set the example that you can be a mother in Hollywood who doesn’t let her bodyguards raise her children. I want her to be the type of entertainer and mother that Sherry Shepherd from "The View" isn’t. You know, a woman who has time to feed her kid and know that the world isn’t flat.

Where is our female George Clooney or even (God, I can't believe I'm saying this) Ben Affleck? Clooney purposely gets involved with political dramas like Good Night and Good Luck, Syriana, and The Good German not just so he can sink his teeth into a serious role after playing a ditz. And even Ben Affleck coming back from Gigli-gate to multiple appearances on "Real Time with Bill Mahr," "Hardball with Chris Matthews" to now being encouraged to run against George Allen for a Senate seat in Virginia?

Reese said that she prefers to keep her ideals to herself in order not to "muddy up the debate."

What debate?

Extraordinary rendition isn’t something you have an opinion on. It’s not like some people think extraordinary rendition is a policy and some people think it’s hair gel and the debate rages on. No. It exists. We torture people illegally over seas and that is against our constitution. There is no opinion. There is right and wrong. Oh, the pastor of our progressive little church would be so disappointed in her.

Reese says,

I see the influence of celebrity on our culture too that's why I think that when you happen to be a smart lady who isn’t addicted to methamphetamines you have almost a responsibility to represent the other side of what it is to be a woman in her twenties in America.

We're all American citizens and I enjoy hearing everyone's opinion. I don’t expect that actors should just act and keep quiet. Why should they? Our own President, the one that none of us elected has gone on record as defining tribal sovereignty as, "It means that. It’s sovereign. You've been given sovereignty and you're viewed as a sovereign entity." It's not all-American to just do your job and keep your head down and shut up. For God's sakes, if anyone, anyone in America has anything smart to say, please fucking say it. See you in church, Reese.

I know FTR linked the earlier, un-cut version as part of a larger Burma piece, but today the official Rambo trailer debuted online.

I'm not sure how the movie will do, but the trailer had to overcome Rocky-esque obstacles in order to succeed. And, of course, it totally did. (Rocky 1-4-esque obstacles, not 5-esque. But definitely 3... um, -esque.)



And here's the unrated one, which is so good, it's actually better than any three other Stallone films. Not counting Rocky. Or, Over The Top. I've seen it roughly two dozen times.



How does it not suck? Yeah, I don't know either. It really should. Completely and without question, and yet... it kicks some dick.

I mean, first of all, Stallone is in his sixties. That sounds made up, right? No, he's fucking sixty-one. Hardly your prime ass-kicking years. Do a search, in the last year, how many guys in their sixties jumped up into a jeep, swung a machete into a dude's throat, and totally lopped the guy's head off? Now add the phrase "while defending the US of A against evil villains." Yeah. Not counting serial killers, I'd be surprised if more than a few dozen accounts popped up. My point is, it just isn't something you do as much, once you hit the big 5-0. It's almost as if those "World's Greatest Grandpa" mugs were built from some sort of strength-sapping ore.

Then, let's face it, appearance-wise, he looks a little like the bloated version of Sylvester Stallone that hit the talk show circuit back when the latest Rocky was in theaters. That's sort of a first. He looks like the actor, not the character. I can't explain it. I mean, Rocky looked like Rocky, but... something's missing here.

Of course, there's also that HUGE WAR we're currently in. It's filled with actual death and actual bombs and people tend to take it pretty seriously. I've noticed that people faced with the loss of loved ones in a war don't often want to see the onscreen exploits of a made-up, totally ridiculous war hero played by a guy who lives in a mansion.

How about the fact that Stallone is no longer a box office heavyweight. I've never been a huge fan but, that was a shock, the day I figured that out. Perusing the aisles of my local video store during the early nineties. Picking up an interesting looking box cover. D-Tox? What the fuck is this? Oh... Oh no, direct-to-video? Not you, Sly... Damn you, God, is no one safe from the fickle tastes of the movie-going public?!

Apparently, none of this means shit, cause that trailer is not fucking around... Holy Hell, let's hope the movie is even half as good...




TheCoolerKing wants to know if "we get to win this time?"

We're still stuck in a vicious war, possibly on the brink of another one, and California is burned nearly to the ground. However, right now, I truly feel the best way our time could be spent is by thinking about Kid Rock.

Why? Because you can live vicariously through his reckless brawling, feel superior to his redneck antics or even compare the relative magnitude of your potential next mistake, with his. (Most likely - forgot to buy milk versus stabbed a security guard with a rusty faucet handle. Feel better?)

Last month, as you may recall, Kid Rock punched Tommy Lee in the mouth at the VMA's. Now comes word that he beat up some guy at an Atlanta Waffle House.

I guess the question is, who's next? In a way, he's providing us a valuable service, like the mongoose ridding the land of pesky cobras. Sure, this cobra smokes too much and has poor taste in the ladies but, he's doing his job. First Tommy Lee, then some douche causing problems at the Waffle House... No bad can come of this. He is slowly but surely (well, more slowly) clearing the land of deadbeats, and on the day his power of punch fails him, well, he'll have gotten rid of himself.

Kid Rock's never bothered me. He's always seemed like a dude, one-hundred percent aware of how lucky he was, just out having a good time. And even though I don't care for his music, anytime they've stuck one of his two hits into a movie trailer, I've enjoyed it.

So who will it be? Who will next face the wrath of the redneck? Ryan Seacrest? Some other Motley Crue member? A stray dog?

Here are three of the most likley scenarios.

SCENARIO 1 - Kid Rock drunkenly stumbles into his neighbor's yard, thinking it his own. After wondering aloud about "who the fuck all these little dudes are," he's confronted by the colorfully attired person in charge. After a brief skirmish Kid grabs a fistful of frilly collar with his left hand hand while cocking his right, then delivers a brutal punch. It lands squarely on a bulbous red nose, sending the poor, poor clown tumbling into the pool, where he floats, motionless. Thirty-seven sad children cry on cue.

SCENARIO 2 - Kid asks the tall, hardass-looking guy with the 100 watt smile if he's got a fucking problem. Silence. Kid asks again, this time backing it up with a shove. The guy doesn't move, it's like he's made of iron. Kid asks if the guy thinks he's fucking better than him, then yanks his own shirt off and hurls it into the street all while pacing in a cirle, muttering about how "some motherfuckers just don't know." Kid suddenly breaks from his pattern and lands a right hand to the midsection of his opponent. Then another. This guy's tough but Kid doesn't stop unloading... Police called to the scene arrive to find a bloody-fisted Rock, slumped and out cold, at the foot of an also bloody but otherwise pristine looking, lamp post.

SCENARIO 3 - If you'd have told Kid Rock that, one year ago, shortly after having been arrested for his scuffle at the Waffle House, he'd meet and fall in love with Kandi, the comely young daughter of one Nelson Mandela, he'd have said you were crazy. But, love is unpredictable, and here he was, not only happily engaged to Kandi but on stage at a ceremony honoring her father for his... something. Kid wasn't sure. He'd put all the fighting in the past and was ready to move on... if only Kandi's old man would stop EYEBALLING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. "Man who ended aparteid," or not, Kid Rock doesn't scare easy. A slap to the face from Kid followed by a "How 'bout now?" taunt woke something deep inside Mandela and they locked into a death struggle. Alas, age and many battles fought had taken their toll on the old man, he didn't have it on this night. His sole joy, as he collapsed in slow motion, was the sight of countless bodyguards flying in from all angles, pummeling Kid mercilessly.



TheCoolerKing is going to get a drink.

I'm really asking. And I'd love nothing more than for you to reply with a detailed list of reasons that shows me exactly what I've been missing.

Obviously, I'm not a fan. But, I'd be happy to put all that aside, for some hard answers. I'll put away my feelings toward his manufactured street-vibe, the bland on-screen energy, the piss poor rap for nine-year-olds. I'm happy to forget all of that, for some answers, some closure and dare I say it, some understanding...

The idea that this humongous gulf separates me (and a few others) and the rest of the planet, has become far too unsettling to manage. How can we be so different? Are we not both flesh and bone? Do we not bleed when stuck and laugh when 30 Rocked? I understand hatred, selfishness, murder, even... but not this.

I've got to know. Why do you welcome his middle-of-the-roadness with open arms? Why do you line his pockets for the chance to witness his "fast-talking" hilarity? Am I asking too much? Being too picky? I mean, we've seen examples of funny people. People who can act, and act well. It can be done, there's countless movies that prove it. Why isn't he also expected to do these things?

Logistically, the idea that he has something to blackmail every single person on Earth with, sounds ridiculous. I'm begining to wonder if I'm wrong. Did Will discover that we were all descended from slugs? Is that the secret he swore to keep, in exchange for a career saying, "Oh, hell no."

This isn't me being a sarcastic dick. I mean, sure, that's part of it. But beyond that, I'd like this to be different than the usual "me mocking something, some of you agreeing and some of you attacking back" thing. At the end of this, I'd either like you to see the error of your ways, or, I'd like to be convinced.

I'll even do my best to get you started. I can't think of more than a few half-baked reasons, not even enough for a proper list, but here's what I got.

- He's tall and good looking. Is that it? I'll concede those two points, but, doesn't it take more? I mean nobody's lining up to see any Ted McGinley movies. (Yeah, I know. Apparently I'm also in need of examples of tall, good looking people.)

- People enjoy the slick, wise-cracking black guy character. That's true, but, aren't there plenty of actual black guys available? It's not like they haven't invented Chris Tucker yet. Or Method Man. Or, the self-described "cocky black chaeffuer from Die Hard. That guy was awesome, and I'd lay down at least fifty bucks that says anything Smith can do, that guy could do just as well. And that includes his Ali impression.

- People have a misguided, nostalgia-based fondness for his crappy sitcom. This group is a few hundred people at best, not enough to account for his worldwide dominance.

- Most people are dumb and ask very little of their entertainment. And they like people who smile at them. Hmmm. That's impossible, right?

That's all I could come up with. Tell me I'm wrong. Show me I'm wrong. I'm begging you. Explain this sadistic hold he has over you... or send him away.

Soon he will have ruined one of my favorite books, I Am Legend. It's a matter of days now, and there's nothing we can do to stop it, this time... I'm asking you now, where does it end? When do we say enough?




TheCoolerKing is also wondering why they seem to have taken all the vampires out of "I Am Legend" and replaced them with the monsters from "28 Days Later."

Attention freaks and geeks, Halloween is just around the corner which means it's officially the season to indulge your inner (or outer) wickedness. For the past several weeks, SGHQ has been keeping tabs on who's who in the Horrfest YouTube competition to be this year's Queen of Scream. A little reminder, the woman crowned receives $50,000, fame, glory, a year of exotic travel as the reigning Miss Horrorfest.

This year's contest got fierce with 11 SuicideGirls contestants in the race for the crown. Last week Namaste, Oubliette, Seraphim, Sid and Scarlett all joined Nixon, Salome, Roach, Sash, YoYo and Illyria in submitting videos.

It's been a bloody long wait but the results are in. The fine folks over at After Dark Films have picked eight finalists to live in a house together. SuicideGirls is proud to announce that our very own lovely Nixon Suicide is one of the finalists! Really, the other girls don't stand a chance.

Go here to cast your vote. And if you need any motivation, just check out these sexy photos of Nixon shot exclusively for the contest.

This week I'm taking a break from writing about people who are already famous to focus on someone who isn't famous yet, but possibly should be. She possesses a moxie and general sense of derring-do that just warms my obnoxious prank-loving heart.

I'm talking about Pia Haraldsen, whose Ali G-style interview of New York City Council Member James Oddo--and his insanely overblown reaction--made me and 6,000 other youtube viewers giggle with schadenfreude-y delight:

I almost wish Fox News hadn't interviewed her, because now more people will know who she is and the amount of fun she can have in this country will be limited, like what happened to the infamous Sascha Baron Cohen. But most politicians are too confused by the internets to follow a phenomenon like this, and it should also help her out that old white men are much more likely to trust a hot blonde Norwegian "reporter" than the hirsute walking stereotype that is Borat.

It's too early to tell if this chick is the next Baron Cohen or just an amusing emulator, but I am hopeful, and I'm trying to figure her out. It doesn't help that most of her other segments on YouTube are in some crazy gibberish language called "Norwegian." Her glamor-shot heavy website is also confusing; either she is engaged in a brilliant self-parody, or the chick is actually kind of lame. Hey, Norwegians (I know there are some of you on here.) Your take on this would be much appreciated. Read all that craziness and report back here with your verdict (please?)

Also, I know this is going a bit off topic, but since when did "punk'd" make its way into common newsreader parlance? The Fox News people keep saying it in their interview with her and this is not ok. Why don't we just let Ashton Kutcher write the next edition of the Oxford English Dictionary while we're at it? Shit.

Anyway, her statement on the incident is something I can get behind:

(via smallscreen.monstersandcritics.com)

Let's hope that this comedienne knows what she's doing. We need some more funny-on-purpose Youtube celebs to balance out the Chris Crockers of the world. And I'm not gonna lie, I am especially happy when a woman turns out to be funny; when the Sarah Silvermans outweigh the Margret Chos, we will be significantly closer to that magical utopia of femiladyist radness where tampons grow on trees and men exist solely for cunnilingus and foot rests, or something.

If watching "Top Chef" has taught me anything (it hasn't but bear with me), it's that recipes are important. The act of putting great ingredients together to create something fantastic, cannot be overestimated. Start out with second rate ingredients, and you risk ruining the end product.

In fact, even one or two bad ingredients can sabotage the overall result. (I learned that from "Three's Company." I gotta be honest, I'm not convinced this recipe-analogy thing is gonna fly. I'm hoping these cutesy asides distract from that.) For instance:

Peanut butter + jelly = good

Peanut butter + jelly + a horrible actor = no good

Lemme get more specific. A good recipe was:

Terminator + James Cameron + Arnold = classic movie

Maybe Arnold isn't the most versatile guy on Earth, but he can do one thing pretty well. Act like a robotic-killing machine. Now, sure, this skill didn't serve him so well when he was playing almost every other role, but it worked here. As for the remaining elements, James Cameron is a pretty good director and Terminator was his masterpiece. This combo worked perfectly for two movies.

Then they changed the recipe to:

Terminator + "not James Cameron" + Arnold = fun movie

Okay, that doesn't sound that appetizing, but, I actually thought it was a fun movie. Arnold had sort of a meta, fucking around, tongue-in-cheek vibe going, they added a hot new Lady-nator, and it went by quick. They also switched out Eddie Furlong with some other guy. He wasn't that important, which is why he's not in the recipe. Or, maybe he's the side dish of vegetables that has very little bearing on whether you order the meal. (Yeah, I know, I'll drop it soon.)

Now, comes word that the recipe has been watered down even more.

Terminator + "McG aka guy who did the Charlie's Angels movie" + Vin Diesel = Hey wait a minute!

I don't know about you, but I only like one of those ingredients. You may be thinking, "Well, Vin Diesel's a better actor than Arnie..." Maybe he's got more range, and by that I mean that he can go from "deep gravel voice" to "even deeper gravel voice," but that doesn't mean shit in this role. He's no Arnold, not when it comes to the Terminator. No offense but, the T-800 isn't made from clay, and this isn't the Golem movie.

I guess what I'm saying is, that's the worst looking PB&J I've ever seen...

(See, I kind of wrapped it up okay. Just promise me you won't let this turn you off of all analogies.)



TheCoolerKing is off to NYC to get drunk and run around like a jerk. Does that city still never sleep?

It really is. Much, much better (that goes double if your favorite show is "Ugly Betty".)

*SPOILERS BELOW*

Unfortunately, it's almost over. Only one season left to wrap up one of the best shows on television. So far "Battlestar," aside from a brief stumble last season (no thank you, "Starbuck boxes Adama," episode), has been pitch perfect. From the insurgency, to the reveals of the various Cylons, to the killing of the obnoxious Kat, to the resurrection of Starbuck and the possible discovery of Earth...

Plenty of great shows have stumbled down the home stretch, though. Right "X-Files"? Yeah. I doubt it could happen here, but, just in case, here's what I think needs to happen before it's all over and done with.

- Fraking deliver Earth already! Seriously, like, soon. By episode three Starbuck and Adama better be browsing for KROBY lamps at IKEA while fighting over a pinkberry. I hate "fish out of water" stories but, somehow, I'd like to see it here. The whole crew for the rest of the season, just dicking around Earth, enjoying our comic books, video games and many cheaply-priced family dining options. Cheesecake Factory? Sure.

Just scene after scene of them picking up various items and saying, "What is this?" Hah, Chief, you crazy kid you, that's a wrench. It's like your "space wrench," only different.

- That Cylon/human hybrid baby (Hera? Zeus? I forget) better fulfill its destiny and do something awesome. Maybe they can age it 4400-style or, make it magic... I don't know but none of that "pawning the baby off on some family and then not a word til the credit crawl of the last episode where we read that she 'later saved Earth' or something." Show it already.

- Mr. Gaeta needs to come out of the closet. And take one of the Cyclon Centurians with him. C'mon, you guys, everyone deserves somebody. Don't you know it's cold in space.

- Somebody explains the rules to that shitty-ass sport the rebels played back on Caprica. Cool, I'm running around like an idiot trying to huck a metal ball through a horizonal hole. Isn't this awesome?! No, this is dumb. It's like basketball minus everything that's enjoyable about basketball. No thanks.

- Now that Colonel Tigh's been revealed as a Cylon I want him drinking with RECKLESS ABANDON. Morning, noon and night. Fuck that easy does it shit, let's take that Cylon liver out for a spin, shall we? Bonus points if someone warns him about the drinking and he winks, all sly and smarmy-like, and says, "Oh, I think I've got it covered, heh, heh... Believe me, buddy, It is taken care of... In fact, you might say, I'M A CYLON. Wait--"

- Show us the last Cylon. And good luck making it a shock, too. I mean, I wish you the best but considering about 90% off the cast has been revealed as toasters, I don't see how you're gonna pull this one off. At this point I can't even remember who isn't a Cylon. Starbuck? Little Adama? Quantum Leap guy?

- Somehow work Tricia Helfer's Playboy issue into an episode. I'm not picky about how. Maybe a Centurion finds it, opens it, and smoke comes billowing out of his ears. Then pan over to "Quantum Leap guy" who says, "Talk about a skin job!"

Yeah, I don't really get it either.

Here's the new "BSG" trailer, in all its Galactic-ey glory.



Holy Frak! What the hell was I worried about. It will be awesome.

Lords of Kobol be with us...




TheCoolerKing is pretty sure he sat near Tricia Helfer at the Morales/Pacquiao fight in Vegas. And he's pretty sure he was caught gawking at her.

I like vampires. A lot. I'll watch anything with a vampire in it. Movies, TV shows, radio plays, a Senate hearing (it was covered up), anything. As those of you with taste and intelligence can imagine, this often leads to me seeing a ton of garbage.

For every Buffy the Vampire Slayer there's a Moonlight. For every Blade, there's a Blade 3. You get the idea.

For filmmakers, I think the solution is, watch some Buffy and Angel, and if you can't top that, maybe you do a werewolf film. Or a wendigo. Or some fucking alien-griffin-centaur hybrid thing that's fueled by our femur bones and vulnerable only to ice-cream (rocky road?) Some sort of new, never before seen, thing.

Or, if you're determined to go through with it, do something awesome.



The twist here is, vampires, in an Alaskan city that's dark for 30 days. That sounds awesome at first, but, is it? Were the time constraints really what was fucking up all those vamps? Sure, you'd often see a vamp about to tear into some dude's neck only to get zapped in the hand by sunlight before running back to his crypt. But, it's not like the almost-dead dude then moved out of town and lived happily ever after. The vamp came back in twelve hours and they picked up where they left off... I guess I'm on the fence. It was an awesome enough premise for me to buy the comic book the film is based on, but the more I thought about it the more it sounded half-assed.

Blade was half-vamp, half-human (his left side), Angel was a vampire with a soul who always felt like a dick shortly after any vamp-type maneuvers, John Carpenter's Vampires (not a great movie, I know) had modern day mercenaries using technology to fight vampires. And James Woods smoked cigars and made a lot of jokes that made human and vampire alike feel awful... I'm not sure this twist is up there with those guys. This twist belongs with "Vamp who attacks during a lunar eclipse," or "Vampire-hunting priest on a boat, and the ocean is holy water."

More importantly, who wants to watch a movie made up entirely of fog-filled, hard to make out scenes that all take place at night?

Do you need a spoiler alert to announce that the good guy wins in the end? Cause that's what happens in the comic. I think the ending is what ruined it for me. The art was amazing, the story was interesting... Humans vs. vamps, all building up to the ending, where a guy faces off against the head vamp, who's been built up as this super formidable vamp who's wiser, faster, and more experienced than any other. The human injects himself with a vamp's blood (awesome!), gains its powers (woo!) and then quickly beats the head vamp (huh?). The vamp is killed in minutes by the inexperienced half-human guy, even though, I think, earlier he'd killed other more experienced vamps with no problems...

Hopefully they've fixed that part for the movie. Either way, I'll be there on opening day to find out. Good or bad, shitty or fun, I'm in... It is my curse. (Cue wolf howl and dry ice machine.)






TheCoolerKing plans on making "30 Days of Light", an Alaskan set vampire moving featuring absolutely no vampires, focusing mainly on very happy townspeople making elaborate vacation plans for the following month.

There has been a lot of hullabaloo as of late over the fact that Natalie Portman has gone back on her word and done a semi-nude scene in Wes Anderson's short film Hotel Chevalier (free on iTunes!). In fact, the two most common things I've heard about the film, in SG's own Celeb Worship group and elsewhere, have been:

1) OMG Natalie Portman like, totally shows her butt!

and

2) The rest of it was BOo0ringgZZzzzzzz.

These seem to be the only statements the public at large is capable of making about this film. Because I care, I will address them both.

1) Get over it. People have butts. Sometimes, when people are about to have sex, they take off their underwear and expose said butts. But not all ass shots are created equal. From the stylized removal of her boots to the "uh-oh, we have issues" moment, the love scene is extremely well-shot and choreographed, and the fact that he pulls down her pants and undies before focusing on her top half speaks volumes about the kind of relationship the two characters have. Additionally, the bruise on her ass is evidence that she has been involved in some vaguely kinky business since the last time they saw each other.

Which brings me to 2) People think this film is boring due to its sparseness and lack of dialog, back-story, conclusion, etc. These people are fundamentally missing the point. What is good about this film (and all decent short films and stories) is the amount of information (both literal and emotional) it is able to contain in so few words and images. For example, bruises on the ass can only mean one thing. Bruises on the rest of the body are more ambiguous. She has both, and he's not sure what to think, so he says something, but she ignores him.

In terms of dialog, Anderson doesn't mince words. We come into the story in media res: it's clear she has wronged him, and he's hiding out from the world at a hotel in Paris, where we learn he has been for over a month. They are about to have conflicted-emotion-angry-sad sex.

Hardly the tip of Hemmingway's iceberg...more like going straight to the craggy bottom.

I could go on for a while about other examples of why this film is good, but I want to hear what you think first. Watch it for yourself, or if you've already watched it, watch it again. See how much of the story you can piece together and how much you're left wanting to know. If you're anything like me, both lists will be longer than you might think possible for a twelve minute film. And that is why it's the perfect prequel for The Darjeeling Limited...it draws you in and leaves you hungry for more of these damaged characters.