n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



April 7. 2001 - 11:30 am

Bring It On, World

You know you wish you were as cool as her.

That gets to go on my wall. I know you are jealous. I love this girl Edith. She's nice. That painting is gonna be worth thousands some day, baby, thousands.

Today, it's me and Roger Ebert vs. the world.

Lately, I have been discussing a matter of great importance with many people. That matter, precisely, is whether or not the movie 'Just Visiting' will be good or bad. I think it will be good.

Everyone I know now thinks I'm an idiot with a taste for mainstream shlock. I'm OK with that. I know I'm right.

The movie is a remake of 1993 French film called 'Les Visiteurs.' The original was directed by a very famous and well-regarded (at least over there) French director. This one is directed by John Hughes. The knight and the serf are played by the same actors who played those parts in the French version. The guy who plays the knight is the same guy who played the hitman in 'The Professional' with Natalie Portman.

For all those reasons, and more, it is my contention that this movie will be good and funny. Since I first saw the commercial, I thought to myself: "That will be a good movie, but not everyone will think so."

I have been chided for this position.

Sally (the girlfriend): I don't think I can date someone who likes mainstream crap like that.

Bill: Oh, yeah? Why don't you go pop 'Save The Last Dance' into the VCR for the 37th time and we'll talk after that, OK?

Also...

Barry (the little brother, a film major who believes he is too cool for anything): Oh, you want to see 'Just Visitng?' Why don't you go see 'Spy Kids' after that? Then, why don't you go rent 'Dude, Where's My Car?'

I am unperturbed. History will validate my position. At least Ebert agrees with me.

Unexpectedly, he gave 'Blow' a bad review. He said that it was so boring that it might as well be about a vaccuum cleaner salesman. Zing!

Lastly, as we were chucking the useless shit out of my mom's attic yesterday, we came across the little bride and groom statue that was on top of my parents' wedding cake. The head of the groom had cracked off after years of being wrapped in newspaper.

Quipped Barry: How did they know dad was going to die first?

Har de har.

To which aspect of my ancestry does my family owe its' levity towards the big sleep?

Irish? French? Sicilian? German? Polish? Lithuanian? Jewish?

We are european mutts, by the way.

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