Thursday, 28 August 2014

Movies That I Simply Don't Have The Capacity To Understand.

Why didn't any of you warn me about this movie?

I'm a pretty open-minded guy. Open in that I like to give things a chance before I decide that I absolutely, positively wish it was shot dead and sent away forever. Just today, I decided to make red Thai curry and chicken for dinner. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I didn't know what was in store for me, I just saw the big red jar and thought, 'the Thai are a noble people, they wear funny wizard hats and that's good enough for me. My, that was probably a touch racist. Ooh, poppadoms!', at which point I picked up some poppadoms.

Now, even though I'd never tasted the paste before, I still decided to give it a shot because I trusted Thailand and its fine exports (though this paste was probably manufactured in a bathtub on the bad side of Dortmund by drunk anarchists). As it would seem, trusting the Thai was my first mistake, throwing the stuff into a wok being my second. It carried an awful taste, like licking a sachet of Supermac's tomato sauce off of a sweaty arse on the last day of Knockanstockan. I'll never buy it again. Now I know, and knowing is half the battle.

So, in a way, there's a happy story for you. The only agony I suffered was the fact that I turned what could have been a genius dinner into something that tasted like the ninth circle of hell. Cosmic vibrations had led me to the curry, perhaps to teach me a lesson, and it may have been a terrible experience, but it was a short one as well. 

Though not all of my run-ins with ruinous destiny have been as brief and forgiving. I have, in fact, developed something of a calloused skin over the years from the crippling disappointment and waste of heartbeats associated with bad movies. Actually, not all of them are bad, some of them just need so much preface or require so much of your attention that it's nearly impossible to keep up with what is happening on the screen. I can't be sinfully drunk and appreciative of a film's winding narrative at the same time, it cannot be done.

I'm open to new things (derive from that what you will), and I'm certainly a fan of quirky and odd films, but sometimes a piece of film comes along, cupping its pendulous balls and spitting magma at the lollipop lady, and my brain just can't do it. I simply cannot sit there and endure any more of what's on that there screen. Feeble as my mind may be, I am also stubborn, and on many occasion; I have sat there and endured it, and over my years, I have seen movies that would either cripple your brain or cripple your spirit. Some of them simply ridiculous, some of them simply bad.

I'd like to share some of those movies with you, because I'm the only one looking out for your best interests. To prelude, I'd like to mention that I'm going pretty ad lib with this list because I dare not watch them all a second time to give you more detailed descriptions. I'd do anything for you, friend, I'd do handcuff stuff, but not that. Proceed.

Judge (Yami No Shihosha Judge, 1991)

Synopsis; An extremely beta guy is constantly given hell at work and the only thing that seems to be going for him is he's fucking a co-worker. Oh, he's also the human manifestation of a demonic entity that judges criminals and general low-lives. It's a bit like The Crow, except a parrot perches on his shoulder.

Judgement; I don't know who the protagonist in this is. What do parrots have to do with the afterlife? Why does that man have such huge eyes? I usually tread carefully with anime, but this was a real trapdoor. 

Shrooms (2007)

Synopsis; A bunch of teenagers take a trip to...and you know.

Judgement; I watched this film with an ex-girlfriend in her house a few years ago and though I don't think she was into horror, even she smelled the fetid shit coming from that DVD case. We sat there for the however many minutes of this and couldn't even find it in ourselves to laugh. I wouldn't throw this film in a bin for fear a binman might chance it.

Devil's Due (2014)

Synopsis; Found-footage film about a Satanic conspiracy to use a newly wedded woman as an incubator for the Antichrist. Hilarity ensues.

Judgement; Except hilarity doesn't ensue, not at all. I despise found-footage as much as I do being on the receiving end of a nipple-cripple, but this one took the almighty cake. Satanic taxi drivers and flesh-eating pregnant women don't make for entertaining film. I wouldn't believe that last sentence if you told me it in 2013, but I learned the hard way in 2014.

The Dunwich Horror (1970)

Synopsis; I don't remember.

Judgement; I was fucking wasted, but I remember lots of flashing colours, faces, and that it wasn't at all what I thought it was going to be. I might just give this one another go.

Masters of the Universe (1987)

Synopsis; He-Man and co. are transported to present day Earth (Actually, it's 1987, which is worse) and enlist the help of a synth-playing asshole and his girlfriend to help them return to Eternia before Skeletor does...something.

Judgement; Not entirely a shit film. I just can't get my head around the scene where the teenager manages to mimic the tones of a cosmic key using a synthesizer and in doing so; sends the Masters back to Eternia. That's too much for me to handle. I can't do it.

Django il Bastardo (1969)

Synopsis; Again, The Crow except a western.

Judgement; Turns out he actually can be killed. Some afterbirth sub-plot.

The Poughkeepsie Tapes (2007)

Synopsis; A serial bind/torture killer records his every hideous deed and leaves the tapes in a box for the police to find. They, naturally, make a documentary out of them.

Judgement; Make it stop! Make it stop! Even the drink isn't lessening the blow of this one.

Better Off Dead (1985)

Synopsis; John Cusack is a stupid fucking teenager with stupid fucking problems and nothing happens.

Judgement; I can't even begin to tell you how much I detest John Cusack. I hate him with the kind of passion reserved for sex at the top of Mt. Olympus. I hate John Cusack's fucking guts so much I just want to tear them out and roll around in them in front of his children. I hate John fucking Cusack with enough fervor to power Dublin city hospital throughout the winter. He's the Pauly Shore of romantic comedies. I want to punch John Cusack in his mouth.

Encino Man (1985)

Synopsis; Two teenagers discover the body of a primitive man preserved in ice and befriend him after the defrosting process. Then Pauly fucking Shore ruins the entire film with his weasel gimmick.

Judgement; Pauly fucking Shore ruins the entire film with his weasel gimmick.

Drugstore Cowboy (1989)

Synopsis; Drug-soaked road movie for white people who don't know where to score H.

Judgement; I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling at any point during this film. All of the characters are like caricatures of depressed suburban emo kids who found out they could get high on cough medicine. Okay, it's a bit more extreme than that, but it's still pretty senseless.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

Synopsis; More teenagers exploring each other's bodies and pretty much just hanging out.

Judgement; The video for "Stacey's Mom" is a rip off of a scene from this film, that'll tell you how awful it is. You should just go ahead and film yourself servicing your other half while drinking a tiny can of Budweiser, that's all you're getting out of this movie. Teenagers doing stuff with teenagers, becoming dick-hungry nymphomaniacs. riding motorcycles, and disrespecting mother's wishes. Also, Sean Penn, for no reason I can think of.

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Royalty-free Names for Boring Bands.

Malcolm in the Middle-of-the-Road.

So, you and your friends decided to start a band last night while sinking into your pints and watching the football in your local piss fountain. Well done, that's how all great ideas come about, you've just dipped your toe into the same pool of stimulus as artists like Joy Division, Bach, Megadeth, and the sitar playing cat that followed teenage Moses around. The pub is a temple of deep meditation and you've just made the greatest decision you are likely ever to make in your lifetime. But what comes next, you ask?

Well, no doubt you aspire to be every bit as boring as the likes of Coldplay or Linkin Park, why else would you be pursuing a career in music? If you aren't in it to win it, you should probably bin it. But what's their secret? How can these cripplingly monotonous acts remain so for their whole careers while simultaneously earning enough money to more than feed their honeydew-almond smoothie and button collecting habits? Well that's an easy one, you silly rasher, just think about it for a moment. 

What do all of these popular bands have in common? The Decemberists? OneRepublic? The 1975? 

Yes, you've got it. They all have incredibly boring names to frame their incredibly boring music. That has always been the secret to pop music. C'mon, The Beatles, you knew it was true, you just didn't want to say it. There's something about a really colourless name that hooks people in and practically orders them to part with their money for CDs, vinyls and festival day tickets. If you can mix up the band's name with that of a British insurance company's...you can bet your bottom euro that that band will one day be eating their burnt toast from a supermodel altar and will have collected more number ones than a urostomy bag.

So now that you've learned the secret to all popular music ever, what about your band? How will you make your millions, considering the leviathan shadow of all the astonishingly boring UK 40 artists cast over your lithe form? The trick is to come up with a band name so inoffensive and passable that it can spring gently from the hushed voice of a deaf child in a library's coffee shop. 

Here's a few I came up with earlier:

Oaken Evening Socks

The Brown

The Vase


Palm Wrinkles

The Song People

Beginner Badger 

The Honey Oats

Jack Seeds

Follow the Roo

Bridgeless Shades


Pinky Promise

Smoking Cessation

The Country Roads 

Avocado Hiccup

Tepid Tea Quartet

Medicine Time

Eau Potable


The Braided Maiden

Turtle Friends

Verse to Verse

Sleepy Pottery Farm

The Chris Martin Band

Furniture Visage

The Chilly Octobers 

Leftöver Snack

Tax-exempt Butler Cult

The Letter C

Cello Lesson Tuesday


The Love Loves

Living Room Etiquette 

The Highlights

Loin Cloth for Jesus

By Lamplight

Mansfield Park Club

Dream of Lemmings

Well, what are you waiting for? Father's consent? Pick one quickly and assemble your band into the garage or shed, you've got bland and irksome music to make and without you, how will the sportswear shops sell their products? What will the Kildare hurling team listen to? You've got the name, you've got the time, now you've got to shine. A world of money and painful indifference is now your oyster flavoured crisps.