No, that was in Battlefield Earth. OK, let’s get on with it. What am I going to miss this week?
Hairspray: I’m not the first to observe that watching John Waters pitch a John Waters movie is a lot more entertaining than, you know, actually watching a John Waters movie. The current version of Hairspray is several steps removed from Skinny John, which might be a good thing, but I’m still going to pass. I don’t think I’d want to watch John Travolta eat shit, but I guess I don’t want to watch him not eat shit either.
Sicko: Why I should take health advice from a guy whose face looks like Rosie O’Donnell’s ass? They both should get a shave!
Goya’s Ghosts: Roger Ebert found it “bewitching.”
License to Wed: This film is so bad the critics are embarrassed to beat up on it. Leave Robin Williams alone! You leave him alone! He’s suffered enough, for Christ’s sake!
Talk To Me: I used to watch Petey Greene back in the day. He taught me that spades call honkies crackers. Somehow, I think I got most of what he had to offer.
I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry: One would have thought that today’s filmmakers would want to make a film about filmmakers so clueless they would make a film this clueless. Instead, they made a film this clueless.
Once: “Until Once, I’m not sure that I’d ever seen a nonstylized, kitchen sink drama in which the songs take on the majesty and devotion of a musical dream â€¦.” Owen Glieberman. Yeah, Owen, but just last week I saw a stylized kitchen sink drama in which the songs took on the majesty and devotion of a musical dream, so I don’t know if I’m quite ready for Once, particularly since the ad shows a guy and a chick staring soulfully at each other over a piano. Plus, the guy has a beard. Three strikes and you’re out, right?
Nope, nope, and nope. Harry Potter, don’t fail me now.