Friday, May 25, 2012

MIB3 Midnight No Show

The Highlights of a Low-Light Night: 

10:30: Stopped watching a Tivo'd Shark Swarm deciding we had better get to the theater early because the last time we were wrapped around a building for Hangover 2. 

10:30-10:37: Rapping the MIB song by Will Smith. Can we please get another album from Will Smith soon? 
Makes me remember that there probably wasn't a cooler person in the 90s than Will Smith. He was solid gold, too bad he disappeared for four years. It'll be good to see him again. I scratch my chin, wondering if I have aged better than he has. As I scratch, I realize my beard extends to my neck. Default victor: Will Smith. 

Dancing Illegal Aliens get me every time.

10:37: Arrive at Theater. No one is in line yet, so Starbucks run. Regretting not wearing a full MIB costume and wishing I made that suit look good. 

10:38: Order a large tea at Starbucks forgetting how large a Starbuck large tea is. Due to my track record of running to the bathroom at least 3 times before premieres, the large cup may come in handy. 

10:40: Told by the usher that the MIB 3D line is outside, the 2D line is inside. I tell him I'm pretty sure that James Cameron already fought the civil rights battle for separate Dimension lines. He's not amused. 

As we walk outside, we pass a large line for Chernobyl Diaries, it's a bunch of junior high and high schoolers. I say, "Go home, smellya later." The reference falls on deaf ears. Wish I was wearing a pair of Zoobas.

10:41: We're the first in line, actually the only ones in line. So we're either really cool or really lame, only time will tell. Time tells me I'm lame a lot of the time.

11:00: An usher comes out and asks us if we are in line for MIB3. Maybe she thought we were avid line queue engineers because if ever two people looked like they were waiting in line for a midnight movie it was us. But then again, since we were the only 2 there and I was in front, then maybe I wasn't technically waiting in line. 



11:01: As the usher ushered us in, hope surged. It was obvious to me now that, we were late and they had simply taken all the people inside the theater already. She leads the way, but our theater still has the Avengers scroller above it. 

11:02: Empty. Empty. Emptiness. Not a soul. We decide to sit in two seats right next to each other in order to keep warm in the coldness of the theater and the coldness of the universe. 



11:30: The good news: another person comes. The bad news: It's a mom. She laughs that we are the only people in the theater. She explains that, "My son is coming with his friends, I brought them here, but I can't sit with them." Am I cooler than this person? Hard to say, she did laugh at me and looks rich.

11:35: The boy and his friends arrive. He decides that since no one else is in the theater that his Mom can sit with them. 

11:36: The 90s are dead. 

 When a movie is so uncool to younger kids that you can watch it with your own Mother in a public place and have her sit directly next to you is pretty much all the proof I would need. It was the ultimate irony for a movie starring an actor that once proposed that "Parents Just Don't Understand." I now know he's wrong, parents get it, it's the kids that don't understand.  



The Hollywood Defender
 

Friday, May 18, 2012

Nic Cage, Cal Graduate, Alumni


As I sat at my graduation after my name was announced and I waited for thousands of more names much more difficult than my own to be announced, I looked at my program and noticed that I hardly recognized any of the UC Berkeley’s famous alumni. Sure, there’s governor Jerry Brown, NBA player Ryan Anderson, that guy from the Counting Crows, Chris Pine, and Gregory Peck.

These are ok, Gregory Peck would have been strong, but it’s no longer the 1950s.

 I decided I had to do something not just for me, but for all Cal Graduates. The Hollywood Defender sprung into action. So I snuck back in line ready to get my name announced again.

I was three away from the front of the line when it started to set in exactly what I was about to do. I figured since I’d already graduated that it would be difficult, nearly impossible for me to be kicked out of school, but then again we were the school that was a major contributor in the research for the atomic bomb.

Too late to back out. I’m at the front of the line.

The announcer asks, “Where’s your name card?”

Me: “I lost it.”

Announcer: “Ok, ok, what’s your name?”

Me: “Nicolas Cage.”

Announcer into the microphone for all to here: “Nicolas… Cage.”

The Berkeley student body and parents go wild with cheers as I wave to them as I imagine Nic would.

I reach Eric E. Schmidt Executive Chairman Google for my handshake.

Schmidt: “Nicolas Cage?”

Me: “Yep.”

And so Nicolas Cage became a college graduate and Cal’s most famous alumni all in one day.

“Viva la fucking France.” –Nic Cage


The Hollywood Defender

(This continues the Hollywood Defender’s Nicolas Cage blog Saga, the count is at 4, the other links are below:

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Face/Off: Travolta v. Evil Travolta


If you've been reading the celebrity gossip or hell the jokes on the internet, you're probably wondering why your favorite person ever and all around good guy, John Travolta was possibly trying to fondle his male masseuse it’s cause it wasn’t him.

You say, “What do you mean it wasn’t Travolta?”

Well, it sort of was, but really.

You say, “What do you mean?”

I’m saying, “Yes, it was John Travolta. Sort of.”

You say, “What?”

I say, “It was his body. But not Him him.”

You say, “Fuck you” And then you leave.

I say to myself, “I guess you've never seen the modern classic Face-Off.”

In case you haven’t and are still reading, here’s the basic premise:.due to advancements in face transplant technology, John Travolta goes undercover as Castor Troy (Nicolas Cage). Meanwhile, Castor Troy goes undercover as John Travolta and has sex with Travolta’s wife and perhaps his daughter. Look at the sexual perversion in the following clips and tell me that these so called sexual intrusions by Travolta are not completely in line with the actions of one Castor Troy: 

skip to: 1:52


I dare you to tell me I'm wrong that Castor Troy isn't capable of masturbating on the massage table after  he tried to seduce the masseuse. Dare you. 

Now in 1997, Face-Off technology did not exist, but considering the advancements in face transplant (Link) surgery we can assume that it now does especially high up in the government. Due to Cage’s unbelievably great performance as Troy, we can assume he based it on a real psycho, who now has actually use Face-Off technology to imitate John Travolta. Our only hope is that Nic Cage exposes this fiend before it is too late for Travolta’s reputation. 


The Hollywood Defender

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Iphone 4S: Siri, Samuel L. Jackson, and Zooey Deschannel


Let me preface this with I love Samuel L. (Leroy, in case you were wondering) Jackson and Zooey Deschanel. With that said, I’m adamantly against the new iphone commercials and not for the reasons you would think.




The very idea of major celebrities asking questions and giving order to a handheld machine is mind boggling.

I don’t believe Samuel L. Jackson is a cook for the following reasons:
1. Doesn’t know how many ounces are in a cup, then claims to have known that ( I can just seem Sam arguing that with the director to put in the line “I knew that.” Just like the ridiculous Depends commercial with Lisa Rinna, how many excuses do you need to use a product and maintain your cool?
For Rinna: Charity, not needing them, women's power)


2. Needs a reminder to put Gazpacho on ice



Again I am not in favor of how Apple represents the employment practices of both DesChanel and Sam for the following reasons:
 1. If Sam really has to make an appointment, wouldn’t he just call his personal assistant or secretary?
2.    If Deschanel can order in for tomato soup instead of simply opening a can, it would be my guess that she would never have to schedule a reminder on Siri to clean her own room. She most certainly has a maid, who would clean it for her.
3.  Deschanel doesn’t tell you the real reason she doesn’t want to put on “real shoes”, the untrained eye would assume it's cause of the rain. But no it’s actually cause in real life her maid puts on her shoes for her. Celebrities don’t put on their own shoes, it’s a fact.

 (And Zooey I know you’re quirky, but I pray that you have better speakers than to choose to listen to your song on a phone.)

I appreciate the celebrities acting like they are normal people like us, but they’re not even normal with a robotic voice helping them along. They’re better than us, they own cooler shit, they do cooler shit, and they make cooler shit. They aren't poor, they buy assistants, they pay personal chefs, or god forbid they get an unpaid intern. The point is they don't need a cellphone as an assistant.

It's Apple's fault for trying to "normalize" them, so that we think we can be like them if we buy their phone. 

I'm asking celebrities to stop this practice and put an end to "normalization." What I am asking is for celebrities to be proud of your wealth, I don’t want to know that you do similar things that I do on my phone. I want a Siri because I can’t afford a personal assistant or afford a window in my apartment to look outside to see what the weather is like. You’re better than me, you’re better than all the rest of us, it’s time to start acting like it even in commercials. Strike down the wicked non-barriers between us and set us barriers again. And it starts with Siri.



Now that's better. 

The Hollywood Defender




Saturday, May 5, 2012

Midnight at the Avengers: 12:04 is not 12:01




It’s weird when you go to a premiere of a superhero movie and you and your friends happen to "out weird" the rest of the people there. I went in Hollywood Defender attire (which I did not steal from the Lone Ranger) and my friend went as Boba Fett, whether or not he knew that the next day was May the 4th (Star Wars Day) is uncertain. We walked slowly to the back of the line that surrounded the theater to cheers for Boba and “Who the Fuck is he?” for me.

I wanted to get to the line a day early, but no one was up for that type of commitment. I was also disappointed to find out that there was no need to purchase tickets until that night and not three weeks earlier. But who cared I was going to see the movie with millions of others seeing it at the same time. Or so I thought on both accounts.

We got into the theater and ended up with seats 4 rows from the front, the Hulk would have appeared even larger and would have been tea-bagging us for the entire film. Another one of my friends who had bought tickets at a later date, ran into our theater, “Yo dude, there’s a bunch of seats left in ours. We got four saved for you guys.” I sent Boba to scope out the situation, he returned guaranteeing that the seats were indeed superior to our own. So we gathered our popcorn and headed over.

The seats were unbelievable, dead center, a perfect vantage from which to view Robert Downey’s smarminess (also next to a 45 year old Captain America). Then it got to be 12:00, which meant for me starting to yell out, “Start the fucking thing. And by fucking I mean amazing!” I realized after 3 yells, that midnight showing actually don’t start until 12:01. 

Stupid me. Then it got to be 12:01. “You fuckers start the show!” Boba turned to me, “Dude, this one starts at 12:04.” The other had started at 12:01 on time.

There have been few times, when I have been pissed. Yes it was only a 3 minute difference between this and the other theater, but damn it I bought tickets 3 weeks in advance. I wasn’t seeing the premiere anymore, I was seeing the 3 minute later premiere. I sat there, pissed through the entire Dark Knight trailer. At the end of the phenomenal trailer I yelled, “Where’s the Joker? O yeah, he’s dead!” This should be considered a low point for me.

Then the Spiderman trailer to which I yelled, “Where’s Toby? O yeah, he’s gone!”

Then the movie started and I loved it. This is why I love the movies because they can change your view on the world and cheer you up like nothing else in the world. A good movie is so much more than a good movie, it’s my anti-anxiety meds. 

They are what I live for. And at the end, I stood and gave a standing ovation or maybe that was 5 minutes in. It’s hard to remember. 

The Hollywood Defender


Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Dark Knight Rises Trailer: Kid Friendly





The Dark Knight Rises trailer is almost perfect. A work of art in itself, with its quiet dramatic images that most film don’t even dream of achieving in a 2 hour movie, not 2 minutes. I watched it by myself on a 3 inch screen on my phone and was just as involved as I would have been on a big screen. I will be viewing it tomorrow night at Midnight during the Avengers, but I’m still just in awe of what I saw in the minute amount of time on my minute screen.

And yet, it was dark, at times I wondered if Batman was already dead and if it was Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s chin and not Christian Bale’s. I needed the constant reminder that this movie was in fact PG-13 as I saw Bane teasing Batman that he deserved a fantastic death. There’s not a single frame in that trailer that’s for kids, until the end. The ending is so distinct from the rest of the trailer and themes that it is as if it were from the Adam West original. The dialogue takes place as follows:

Catwoman: “My mother warned me about getting into cars with strange men.”
Batman: “This isn’t a car.”

Then they fly away in the Bat plane.

The bookend was most certainly provided by the studios as a reminder, despite the violence and the most certain death of the Cape Crusader, that you should feel free to bring your kids. 

And you know what, if I had kids I would, cause they need to see this, despite how violent and sad it will be, because it will be spectacular. I couldn’t think of a better way to ruin their innocence.


The Hollywood Defender