Thursday, February 25, 2010

Sparklecados: Day 1

As you no doubt are aware, Twilight vampires sparkle in sunlight and avocados can grow in cups. This leads to the inevitable question: Will avocados sparkle if they are grown in holographic Twilight cups?


There is only one way to find out. After enjoying some tasty guacamole yesterday evening, I cleaned the pits and let them dry overnight. Today I filled the cups with water, stuck the pits with toothpicks, and the sparklecados are off on their fantastic journey.

Ingredients in this experiment:

(2) pits from organic avocados grown in Mexico
(2) holographic Twilight cups given to me by Blue Napkins
(8) toothpicks
tap water

I will keep you updated as progress warrants. I have no idea how long this will take or if they will grow considering the limited amount of sunlight I have here (perfect for vampires btw).

Day 1: Wow...this is dumb.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

American Idol Update: Week 1 (Part 2)

Didn't we just do this? Yes and no. Yes, we just did a ridiculously long Idol rundown, but that was the girls and this is the guys, so its technically different. This is going to be a real sausagefest tonight - just a hunch. I'm also going to guess most of them are going to suck. Here we go...


Or not...cable company fail. Instead of a suspiciously sharply dressed Ryan Seacrest, I'm seeing color bars. Test patterns are not hot. Anyway, now its on.

Todrick Hall - The little back stories are more boring than church. This guy sang in the shower. Imagine that! He's doing a jazzy version of Since You Been Gone, by my girl Kelly Clarkson. I'll give him credit for trying something different, but I really don't like this. Is Simon wearing mascara? Guyliner is one thing, mascara is a very different kettle of fish.

Aaron Kelly - If you are 16 and your voice hasn't changed yet, get off the stage. He's signing a country break-up song too. I'm going to run the vacuum until he's finished to drown out this noise. Randy just said it was pitchy in parts. LULZ.

Jermaine Sellers - He does an OK Neyo impression, but we already have Neyo, so what does he bring to the table? Nada. Aren't these songs supposed to be popular? I have no idea what this is other than awful.

Tim Urban - I guess he was cut and then called back. I wasn't paying attention. Hey! A song I know...Apologize by One Republic. OK, I see why he was cut. The call back is confusing. He's kind of attempting an impersonation of Bono's falsetto from Lemon and falling flat on his face. Turrrible as Sir Charles would say.

Joe Munoz - This kid gives of a vague Fez vibe. He loses points there. This scarf is shiny. Points off. He's ruining a perfectly good song with his own twisted take. Points off. F- for Fez.

Tyler Grady - He's trying really hard to look like he's one of the original members of Led Zeppelin. The song? American Woman. Vomit. One show and this kid's schtick is already tired. Kara actually used the word schtick too! That made her hotter.

Lee Dewyze - I really don't like that these people can bring instruments now. Live or die on your vocals. This guy sounds like a drunk John Mayer. That isn't a compliment.

John Park - Sulu. LOL. God Bless the Child. LOL. Vote for this guy.

Michael Lynche - Hahaha! A guy built like Warren Sapp singing Maroon 5! You can vote for this guy too. I'll allow it. Vote early and often.

Alex Lambert - No, not Adam Lambert, Alex Lambert. He's 19, still in high school and rocks a mullet. FAIL.

Casey James - Kara is really horny for this guy. Literally. She told him to take his shirt off during the audition. He should probably just be her boy toy because he isn't going to make it as a singer.

Andrew Garcia - This guy sings OK, but again, enough with the fucking guitar already. I don't want to hear acoustic versions of Screamo songs.

Shockingly, the guys weren't as awful as the girls. I wouldn't go so far as to call any of them particularly good, but it wasn't as cringe inducing. Who was the best? Probably Michael Lynche. He was also hilarious because he's a big fat guy singing mindless pop. The worst? Even though he wasn't the worst today, John Park has the potential to be over the top awful every week.

Results tomorrow...I won't watch. We're back next week. This is American Idol and THIS is Skynet: California.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

American Idol Update: Week 1 (Part 1)

Its finally here! Real Idol started tonight with the top 12 girls. This is going to be a trainwreck, so buckle in and say your prayers. Check it out dog, I'm guessing this is going to be a little pitchy in parts. The girls are doing songs from the Billboard charts. I think that can encompass damn near anything. Here's the play by play:


Paige Miles - A dull and lifeless version of a 70s song I've heard 500 times but can't name. Naturally Simon loves it. This all sounds pathetically familiar. Lets get this party started!

Ashley Rodriguez - She's pretty attractive, but this song sounds like two giraffes fucking. I'm going to guess she isn't winning the competition.

Janell Wheeler - This bimbo has country star written all over her. Too bad she's trying to be a rock star where actual talent is required. Also, can we just have a moratorium on Heart songs please? You aren't Ann Wilson, so sit down and shut the fuck up.

Lily Scott - A 20 year old who looks like a 45 year old cocktail waitress...this is going to be something. I'm not sure what though. Apparently she's fixing a hole. Whatever. She should fix her mouth hole - as in STFU.

Katelyn Epperly - Chick with bad perm sings doo-wop. Pardon me while I hang myself in the toilet.

Haeley "Gokey" Vaughn - This years "WTF?" artist. The judges cum in their pants when she sings, I cringe and vomit. This "performance" of I Want to Hold Your Hand was just brutal...at least Simon hated it.

Lacey Brown - Landslide. NEXT...

commercial - LULZ...There was an ad for a movie with Pierce Brosnan and Robert Pattinson. You can find more testosterone in a Lane Bryant the day after Thanksgiving.

Michelle Delamor - A boring version of Fallin by Alicia Keys. It really brought nothing to the table, but that puts it head and shoulders above everything else we've heard tonight.

Didi Benami - I have no idea what this is supposed to be. I don't like it though. I'm currently discussing Kara Dioguardi's looks with elusive Skynet blogger Blue Napkins. I think she looks pretty sharp tonight, she doesn't. That's just more of the hard hitting journalism you've come to expect from Skynet.

Siobhan Magnus - She's a glassblowing apprentice. I wanted to say that isn't the only thing she blows, but she did a good job on Wicked Game. Pretty hot too - she can blow me any time. I knew there was a "blow" comment there somewhere.

Crystal Bowersox - She's a single mum with half dreads. She also has a harmonica. One hand in her pocket. No sir, I don't like it.

Katie Stevens - I can't handle teenagers singing Vegas lounge music. In fact, I was among the first to speak out against it.

So there you have it...Week 1, Night 1, Teh Girls. Most were awful. If you're voting for the best, first, stop being a fag, and second, vote for Siobhan Magnus. If you're voting for the worst, Haeley is the obvious choice, but she'll stick around anyway, so vote for Lacey Brown instead.

Guys top 12 tomorrow. Can they actually be worse? Tune in to find out!

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Wolfman Bites


::: Benicio growls at a sucky script! :::



I admit that headline & the follow up are not fresh or creative, but neither is this film. This abysmal attempt to revive the classic, hairy movie monster falls flat. Trust me, this movie sucks. Shame on Benicio Del Toro, Anthony Hopkins, & the money men behind this big budget waste. Stand in a corner, you bastards! I wish I could tell you faithful readers of Skynet that this film had some merit, but it was just so bad I'd be lying to you otherwise.

Do not see this film.

What pains me most in advising you of this involves the same sad reluctance I had when I ripped into Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds a few months ago (remember?). I care not a whit about public adoration of a film, as I rarely agree with what is popular anyway. I realize Inglorious Basterds will net Quentin some Oscar gold soon enough. That film, for all its faults, was superbly cast and well acted, especially in the performance of that film’s Nazi bad guy, Col. Handa (Oscar-nominated Christoph Waltz). But even that did not save the film from being poor in my estimation. Buzz is for bees, not quality cinema, and while it may sell tickets on opening weekend, it does not equal quality after the fact. Both of these films, in my advised opinion, fell far short of where I hoped and prayed they would land after launching.

The only horror genre which I value more than lycanthrope movies is undead flicks. This makes George Romero my hero for his zombie films. This also makes both Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead), as well as Zach Snyder (Dawn of the Dead 2004), default studs of the realm. These guys knew how to remake greatness. They envisioned it through a proper lens, and they did the homage thing to a point, but they did not mess with the concept, story, or essence of the ideal. They nourished the fanbase but also gave them something new. Ditto Danny Boyle and Alex Garland for their 28 Days/Weeks Later efforts. It is not easy to impress me when it comes to flesh-eaters, but these cats reached the summit of blood splatter, gore, and evisceration. HUZZAH!

So back to my pan-comparison of Tarantino’s Basterds and Johnston’s Wolfman … in both of these films, I saw potential greatness of production value and prior excellence by the director and production team. I saw respected actors. I imagined great plots worthy of reset in a modern context. Nazis and werewolves are both great antagonists, and with lycanthropes, there is even more to be done than with anti-semitic Teutons. Nazis choose to be evil and murderous. Wolfmen like Lon Chaney, Jr (The Wolf Man 1941) and David Naughton (American Werewolf in London 1981) become hapless victims of the evil curse of Magyarian deviltry. Would that a mere wolf bite justified Adolf’s twisted mindset. I can feel for a wolfman, but I cannot feel for a nazi. Anyway, enough about that paper-hanging jackass and his boot-shined cronies …

In The Wolfman (title role of Lawrence Talbot-Wolfman by Benicio Del Toro, tri-produced by him as well, and directed by Joe Johnston with Andrew Kevin Walker on the scribe), a bloody mess is made and lasts 102 minutes. These men took the weighty tale of the Talbot family, and its associated horror, ancient curses, and 19th Century Victorian fears … and somehow bungled it with plenty of money and ample resources. This is a bigger choke than any in recent film memory. If this were golf, it would be a mulligan. Thereby, The Wolfman absolutely shanks the Titleist into the deep, dark, Victorian woods.

OK . . . golf metaphor over…


::: Lon Chaney, Jr. in the original 1941 The Wolf Man :::


I was impressed enough at the pedigree of the production team to hope for better treatment of the clawed terror. Del Toro has long had that smoldering quality in his performances that he looked ready to play brooding and tormented this time out. Johnston directed kiddie fare like Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and Jumanji, so he initially seemed unprepared for the required adult-content presentation here. Yet, that is no excuse. George Waggner lacked the chops, too, but he scored big his first time out. Who the hell was that guy, you may ask? I’ll tell you. George Waggner directed Lon Chaney, Jr. to world fame as the hairy one in 1941’s classic The Wolf Man. Waggner had previously worked as a studio western director, and later in similar, albeit loftier work, with John Wayne. Years later he did thriller episodic TV and some God-awful 60s nonsense with Buddy Ebsen. But this STILL did not stop the guy from making a first rate wolfman movie when he got the chance. He was a professional, and when handed a great story, he delivered the required product. The man become beast is sympathetic. In that original, you cared about Talbot, an innocent shmoe who meets the wrong wolf at the worst possible time. He dreads his fate, and the world watched that man be destroyed despite not wanting to harm the innocent.

Keep in mind as well, that the wolfman concept was an original script – no novel existed to base the story to literature. Dracula and Frankenstein came from literary circles, but this story was legend, and it netted movie gold. A pro director puts aside his ego, or he should, to make a great film via a great story. My point here is that you have no excuse in today’s mondo movie budget world to screw up a story this basic. It’s not like some silly new movie concept designed to trick the audience. Everybody knows this story already. That is why Shakespeare was so cool. The audience knew his ending already, so he just told the story well. In the audience, you get to see how the tragic figure melts down. That is the catharsis. We die a bit as the ordinary guy effs it all up, just like we so often do.

So what do these jackasses do? They put Benicio Del Toro, Anthony Hopkins, and Hugo Weaving into a vehicle as bitchen and high-speed as a Porsche, a Jaguar, a Lamborghini … and off the assembly line comes a pink & chartreuse jalopy with no brakes and a busted transmission. They give us a Kia! If I were the borderline psychotic type, this movie would set me on a spree to target the filmmakers.

It is beyond ludicrous to see a great franchise bludgeoned into unrecognizable roadkill as they did this time. And frankly, it pisses me off. The $11 I forked over annoys me to a certain extent, but the movie ITSELF plain PISSES me off. That is far worse. It will be rented, checked out on Netflix, and even . . . perish the thought . . . purchased at Wal-Mart. Judas priest!

Do not see this film.

I am going to say three nice things about this one before I forget. Here they are: great cinematography by Shelly Johnson (he is a guy, btw) amazing set decoration by John Bush (Topsy-Turvy, The End of the Affair, plus Emma for TV in 1996), and quality production design by Rick Heinrichs (Pirates of the Caribbean, Pts 2 and 3, and the Lemony Snicket movie). This last one is for my girlfriend. She acts and directs plays, plus she is also a first rate set designer, too. She remarked that this film had that going for it, but she likewise hated this movie. So take those plaudits for what they are worth, because they are not worth much. The proverbial stopped clock is correct twice daily, and while great cinematography and design are lovely to gaze upon, I pay for stories, and stories are driven by great scripts and acted by committed performers.


::: The Wolfman's cast attends the script's funeral ::: -->


So, the primary blame therefore goes to the writers. The supposed-script in question here was penned primarily by Walker, who earlier flashed actual talent with Sleepy Hollow and Se7en. I liked those movies very much, not for superb scripts per se, but for scripts which matched their genre and actors who respected the content. Those films were not a tour-de-force of scriptwriting superbity, but the stories they weaved were indeed excellent, and together with excellent lighting and cinematography, Walker’s writing crafted a good story with fine actors. Notice I left the acting until last – well, so did Del Toro and Hopkins. Benicio had money in this, so he could be seen trying to act out this doggy script, but nowhere did Hopkins show up, not even for a second. He acted like he just woke up, could not wait for lunch, or just ate too big of one, and was glad for the payday, which better have been sizeable for him to lower his rep after this buswreck. A second writer was credited as well, named David Self. He worked on Road to Perdition, which I loved also. I could browbeat his dumbass to boot, but my knuckles are plenty bloody from beating hell out Walker, and he should know better all by himself. If Walker crows about this movie in anyway, I swear I will wish him into the cornfield until I die.



Like my earlier panning of Inglorious Basterds, I will not cite dialogue or specific examples here. Neither Walker nor Self deserve enough credit to see me type their dreck anywhere. If there were worthy examples of creativity in this effort, I would gladly share. Sadly, only a few throwaway lines were present, and every one of those lines was spoken by a supporting actor, if not a one-line extra. Only Hugo Weaving held his own, in the thankless role of the Scotland Yard detective on the case. He plays Abberline, the cop who sought Jack the Ripper, and who now hopes to catch the hirsute beastie tearing Blackmoor’s residents into bloody portions on the marshy property of the Talbot clan. Weaving brings some whimsy to a scene in the local tavern, and in one or two other brief exchanges, but that is all.

Do not see this film.

Here is when I knew this movie blew – within fifteen minutes, not one scene involved more than a single, spoken, uncut exchange of longer than 15 seconds. The same applied at the half hour mark, and the same for 45 minutes. It was just after this point that Hopkins and Del Toro actually ACTED in an uncut take for all of . . . 40 some odd seconds. I nearly dropped my Aquafina. Two acting Oscars for these two fine actors and the writer and director cannot give the audience a prolonged scene between them that allows the audience to chew on the themes and characters (yes, that pun was intended). That alone was inexcuseable. But by film’s end, the entire film had MAYBE three such scenes. It was like Michael Bay directed while being possessed by a ferret who just downed a double espresso. I have seen longer attention spans on toddlers. Quick cuts and piecemeal scenes like that are typical of a script with no substance. If the subject matter is action-based or adult content, no one expects more than that, but this is supposed to be a horror movie about characters, and the cast demands development. Yet . . . nothing!

When I look back at that original 1941 film, I smile wistfully. I recall that for Chaney to define himself beyond his father’s rep in that film was to rebuild a flagging career, and he did so. Before that film, Chaney was a character actor. After that, he was a star. I realize the average person is not that into the film perhaps, so I write that for you to know. Chaney’s dad, Lon Chaney Sr., was a bigger star in his day than ten Brad Pitt’s today. So for Lon Jr. to find his star vehicle that late in his career, it is a great story, and apt when you consider the character he brought to life in Talbot’s cursed man-wolf.

So today, we have Benicio Del Toro. He has no such anchor on his name, as he built a career gradually from the mid 90s out of smaller films and gradually made the mega-millions as his stock rose. He earned more in his life before 30 than Chaney did his entire life, and that is in adjusted dollars. But now, his career is clearly on the ebb. The last thing he did worth a damn was Traffic and that was ten years ago. In Hollywood terms, and that is like dog years, Benicio has not actually had a hit since … well, since Lon Chaney’s kid put on spirit gum and a crap load of doghair and growled. So pardon me if I have no mercy on Benicio. He has talent, but he is pissing it away in efforts like this. He produced this movie, so why did he not demand a better script? Where are his artistic gonads to allow this film to be screened in this insipid form? It is really disgusting . . .

So stop ruining my horror icons, Hollywood. And as for Johnston and Walker . . . and you, too, Benicio … suck it, boyos.

And don’t EVER come near my zombies or this will come to blows.

Finski

Friday, February 12, 2010

Olympics

Its time for the Olympics. Yay?

Sure, why not. After all its the Winter Olympics, which are about 500 times more interesting than the Summer Olympics. Admittedly, I don't like the winter, snow, or any of these sports, but I find them more entertaining than swimming and running. Skiing seems mildly interesting and you get the odd spectacle of sports like luge and curling.

This year the games are in Vancouver, which is famous for lenient marijuana laws and gloom. Its also now famous for not having any snow for the games. They've had to truck it in.

Stephen Colbert has taken an obsessive interest in the Olympics this year too. He's sponsoring the speed skating team and has been dubbed a member of the broadcast team by moron and head of NBC Sports Dick Ebersol. He'll be hosting his show from Vancouver this week.

What should a viewer look for? Hell if I know. The mildly hot chick seems like she's not going to do much on skis and in spite of NBC's wall to wall advertising, no one cares about Apollo Ohno. If you're one of the five people who care about hockey, I guess you can watch that and if you like energy drinks and jacked up trucks, then I'm sure you're already following Shaun White's career adamantly.

Johnny Weir is a lock to win the Gold Medal in fabulousness.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

American Idol Update: Hollywood Week

The auditions are over and American Idol 2010 is ready to begin...except its not. Its Hollywood Week, where they cull the herd even further before the competition actually starts. Additionally, they debuted Ellen as a judge. She's tolerable when she isn't attempting her "comedy" but I have a feeling as this crummy crop of contestants begin to make the show drag, she'll be forced to try out more and more schtick to help salvage the show.


The contestants so far do not look promising. The only particularly good performance tonight was a fat guy playing Paula Abdul's Straight Up on acoustic guitar. The notion was cringe worthy, but it was pretty good. Most of the show was just contestant after contestant trying way too hard to win the weekly karaoke contest down at B. J. O'Taints.

I can already tell who this year's Gokey is going to be. For those of you who aren't familiar with the reference, Gokey was the turd sandwich that inexplicably garnered nothing but praise from the judges last year. There's one every year. This time, its going to be this 16 year old girl who sings dreadful modern country in the wrong key. I think her name was Haley. She's turrrrible.

Skynet out!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Just to make you feel old


Axl Rose is 48 today.

Friday, February 5, 2010

The Super Bowl is going to suck

Last year, for the first time in my life, the Super Bowl had meaning. I've suffered with the Cardinals for years and it finally paid off last season when the almost won the game. It was a rough day on me. Every play made my heart skip a beat and I ultimately ended up angry and depressed for about a week after the game. I'm sure its better if you win.

This year, I'm back to not really caring about the outcome of the game. I can't just sit back and enjoy it though because I really don't want either one of these teams to win.

Indianapolis Colts

First, f the Colts. They had a chance to shut the bitter old farts of the 72 Dolphins up once and for all, but they decided to quit. They will never be forgiven for that. In addition to that, I've loathed this team for years. I don't know why. Even that stupid horseshoe on the helmet bugs me. I can't root for these assholes.

New Orleans Saints

I kind of resent the fact that I'm expected to root for this team because New Orleans was hit by a hurricane five years ago. A Super Bowl trophy isn't going to rebuild the lower ninth ward or bring the thousands of people who died in that terrible storm back to life. Its just going to make a few drunks in the French Quarter happy. Also, "WHO DAT" annoys the hell out of me. I don't get why its catchy or clever and I'm tired of hearing it. No, I can't root for these people either.

The Who

The halftime show has been getting worse and worse since Janet Jackson's nipple was exposed for a nanosecond a few years ago. Organizers keep dusting off dinosaur bands to perform a greatest hits medley that won't offend Grandma Farnsworth in Fargo. This year its The Who, a band that hasn't been relevant since the Nixon administration. Next year, in an effort to play it even more safe, the halftime show will be a hologram of Frank Sinatra. No, I'm not looking forward to this.

Commercials

Commercials suck, but somehow our society has gotten so twisted that people actually look forward to Super Bowl commercials. Its gotten so bad that for the last two weeks we've been inundated with commercials trying to build up hype for Super Bowl commercials. To make things even worse this year, hillbilly and devoted Jesusfreak Tim Tebow will appear in an anti-abortion ad with his mother who thinks she knows better than her doctor. Keep in mind, CBS is airing this ad the same year they turned down a gay dating site's ad to avoid controversy - since as we all know, abortion is totally not controversial at all. No, I'm not excited about the commercials either.

So that's that. The game is going to suck, the halftime show is going to suck, and I don't care about the commercials. Lame. The Colts will win, probably pretty easily, and I will respond by farting in their general direction.

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