Aug. 25th, 2005 @ 04:57 pm
I realize many of you work during the day... but is anyone interested in catching a matinee showing of the Brothers Grimm with me this friday? I'm thinking either the 2:00 or 3:30 showing at the Kerasotes12 in the Glendale mall. Anyone?
OK. Who said that they wanted to go see Sky High
? Because MaryAnn
, surprisingly enough, actually kind of liked it. She seemed to find it derivative yet entertaining
. Huh. Whoda thunk it? B^)
Don't Think. Blindly Support Our Great Leader!
Current Mood: geeky
Current Music: Michael Jackson: "Whatever Happens"
last night was awesome. B^) Ron Glass from Barney Miller
, who plays Shepard Book, was at the theatre. He spoke before and after the movie, and answered questions. He's from Evansville, and is very cool. We must must must get a group together before it's full theatrical release, watch all the DVD episodes, and go see this movie opening weekend, en masse. Grab everyone you know – we need this movie to be a success, and with luck, make them enough money to film the other two Serenity
movies the cast signed up for. B^) It's really nice, for a change, to have really high expectations, and for them to be vastly exceeded.Wash:
"This is gonna get pretty interesting." Capt. Mal:
"Oh, God, oh, god, we're all gonna die."
Current Music: Work Chatter
*does little dance*
I got some! Woohoo!
Thanks to my religious monitoring of fireflyfans
(screw monitoring Fandango. That was a waste of my time.) I have FOUR tickets to the sneak preview screening of Serenity here in Indianapolis!
Now, which four people to take . . .
Hmm . . .
I made some appropriately placed calls to other people I thought could (and would want to) make the $10 a ticket purrchase WITHOUT knowing who would be available or want to go ahead of time. But all I could afford was four.
So, those of you who are my close friends, or who are good gift givers/bribe artists--
Start groveling now.
You know you want to see this.
And better still, you want to see it MONTHS BEFORE ANYONE ELSE.
Special Advance Preview
Date: Thursday, June 23, 2005
UA Galaxy Stadium 14
8105 East 96th Ave.
Indianapolis, IN 46256
Current Mood: accomplished
|» The Mothman Prophecies: Don't Read It, Don't Rent It, Step Away Richard Gere|
If you have ever met me (or worse, if you knew me in high school) then you know I am a little more than mildly afraid of Paula Abdul.|
I believe she is crazy. Her lyrics and songs make no sense, and the more I listen to them, the harder it gets for me to understand. Like saying the word "from" more than five times, Paula Abdul's songs quickly lose all meaning.
For years, I have though, "Ah. Here is the one celebrity I would not like to face in a dark corridor. She is scary."
Well damnit all if she hasn't been bumped square out of her ranking with me and out into not-so-bad territory.
I have now become convinced that there is one celebrity I could never meet, never. I am actually afraid to be talking about him online. If he knew I was out here, saying these things about him, he might surely confront me, and I just couldn't bear that.
I am so afraid of Richard Gere.
I mean it. Terrified. Petrified. The man is scary.
It all started when I went back to St. Louis. My sister Jessie gives me all the books she collects between my visits. She reads them, makes interesting and funny comments on little yellow post-it notes, and passes them on for me to read and then keep or discard as I see fit.
Romance novels, sci-fi, historical fiction, murder mysteries, and countless repeat copies of Dean Koonce and Stephen King novels . ..and mixed in with this eclectic, but common trove was a book called The Mothman Prophecies, which right on the cover had those words that ensure this will reek with suckitude: Now A Major Motion Picture.
Oh lordy. I am loathe to purchase books with movie covers. If it's a good book, you are going to have a hard time not picturing the main character as whomever was cast in the movie. I may love Elijah Wood, or Johnny Depp, or even Judy Garland, but maybe the description in the book isn't of them--maybe my imagination would have come up with someone else. And now I find myself reading it in their voice, trapped to the director's vision, instead of my own. Crap in a hat!
But this was a gift, and I try to read these books in as much of a random order as I can, just so I won't weed out the "good" ones, or the ones Jessie had the funniest things to say about, leaving me with days, or even weeks of sucktastic winners like, "Daughters In Waiting For Love" and "The Best Of Harlequin Romance Novellas".
So I begin to read.
Have you read The Mothman Prophecies? Don't. Let me sum it up for you:
There sure are some strange things happening out there. Yep. Some happened in 1952, some happened in 1967, some happened in 1954, some happened as late as1971, and did I already say 1952? How about 1967? Did I say that already? Well, these unusual occurrences can be completely explained away by my fascinating theory that some people have extrasensory perceptions and those people are being guided by a force beyond our understanding. It explains away all the angels and devils and monsters and aliens. Loch Ness, Sasquatch, Men In Black--all present to only specific people capable of ESP.
It's probably God. Or maybe it's not God, maybe all these people are being haunted by poltergeists that are trying to contact me specifically. The truth is, all this is about me. I am the only one with the answer. It all relates back to this funny story about how my phone rang a lot in 1952. Or 1953. Did I mention 1953 yet?
Yeah. Anyway, anyone who thinks they have seen a UFO is full of crap. I laugh at people who think the government is out ot get them. Ha! Losers. They are funny.
Really, it's probably the phone company, but they are only interested in ME, not you, so stop having conventions and writing books, because you haven't solved the mystery, I have. There are forces out there, and they either mean us harm or good. They don't care about us at all, it's all a big experiment. Except they are really really aware of us, no matter how small or insignificant we are, because there is a giant record player in the sky and it's telling us the same message over and over. It knows we only want to hear what we want to hear. But that message is for you losers. It has greater meaning for me, that's why my phone beeps all the time. Now I have to try to stop the Pope from going to the Middle East and not getting shot there just like the aliens told someone else to tell me he might or might not.
I have never seen any of these amazing images or had an incredible encounter. I don't believe in them, except that they are all real and you just can't understand them, but you would if you were me.
There was an interesting encounter for a long period of time in a small place named Point Pleasant. A large creature I never saw and don't believe in that may or may not have just been a man on a hang glider before hang gliders were invented, may or may not have foretold great tragedy that I would have mentioned before, except that if I am so smart why didn't I see it coming? So I don't really want to talk about it, in case you notice my omnipotence slipping.
Listen, it was a lot of work for me to transcribe the entire book like that for you, so no complaints about my lack of LJ-cutting. I did it for you, okay? You needed protecting.
So you can see, then how after starting to read this most highly acclaimed 200 pages of painful masturbation, I would want to run out--before I even finish reading it--and acquire the movie that makes this harrowing tale real.
They did the things they had to do to survive.
1) they took three lines out of the book and retold the entire story based on them, and the title.
2) they re-staged it in a modern era, so we would not be confused out of our suspension of disbelief by the lack of cell phones and internet service.
And they got us Richard Gere.
I never realized before now how much I hate Richard Gere. He is truly frightening.
He should sue whoever gave him all that botox. His poor face barely moves at all. Except for his neck, which wobbles freely whenever he looks off stage to discover whatever it is around him that always seems to smell bad when the sad music plays over the death of a loved one (or the discovery that he's not going to be in the next scene.)
He is CONSTANTLY invading other characters personal space. I don't know which lecture he missed in high school, but I distinctly remember sitting in an auditorium and making fun of a speaker who described how if you cannot stretch your arms out in front of you because someone is standing so close, then they have invaded your "personal bubble".
I am here to say, GET OUT OF MY PERSONAL BUBBLE RICHARD GERE!
He always seems to be starring off into space. Not as if he forgot his line, not as if he is thinking deep thoughts, or avoiding eye contact. No it's as if he was probably stalking whatever doomed creature was manning the mic boom that day. I can just see some poor little stage hand shaking with fear because Richard Gere is following them with his eyes from right in the middle of the scene, and no one even knows he's doing the stalking.
He often plays characters I simply abhor, which I normally don't hold against an actor. But he's a big name--doesn't he have any say in the matter?
In this particular movie, he did an excellent job distracting from anything even remotely interesting and bringing it back to him and his eye catching neck, and distasteful smells.
I was wholly and completely frightened for every character besides him--they were constantly finding themselves being pursued, sometimes chased, and always startled by Richard Gere and his unnecessary closeness.
I say, GO AWAY RICHARD GERE! We don't need your kind here.
There are enough scary things with bug eyes and extra flesh hanging around this small town without you bothering us too.
Now why, (she says, bringing us all back to her original point) would I have gone to watch this train wreck of a movie, when I knew after reading only half of the book, that it would in fact be this painful?
Because the book is less than 300 pages long. And it took me three days to read it.
Because, like I mentioned, some of it was interesting information, housed as true to life fact based on real events.
And because I just assumed that the real problem was John Keen's writing skills. He was a researcher, not a novelist. It's not written as a story. It was little uninteresting chunks. Filmed, it would have to have plot, right?
I thought somehow, some way, if they weeded out all the nonsense and the erratic timeline, the inconsequential ramblings and the minute detail (Jessie's post-it note was so right) about the female witnesses that make you actually believe he was part of all this, then maybe--just maybe--we would be left with an interesteing fable about a small town that had one very unusual Fall . . .
Uh . . . nope.
Damn you Richard Gere. Damn you!
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