Make it stop!
Simon: You know, I have to say, it’s been three weeks since I watched Inception
and I like, completely don’t care about it anymore.
Jef: hahahaha
Simon: I barely remember what even happened.
I’m just saying, it was good in the afterglow
but it didn’t really leave a lasting impression.
Jef: I get you. The mindfuck was far from tantric.
Simon: I’m just like… ok, I know, it was vague. Fuck.
Before seeing a preview of Scott Pilgrim v. The World a few nights ago, the audience was privy to a trailer for Devil. You know how the story goes: five people—hot chick, creep, black dude, straight-edge business man, and an old lady—get stuck in an elevator, creepy shit happens, etc, etc. Best part about this? You get pretty into the build, what with all the cut-aways and intense music and leading dialogue, at one point you may even cower behind your hands even though it’s just a preview (shut up), until you see the credits flash across the screen. The gods of spin really need to intervene when the name M. Night Shyamalan flashes across the screen and a whole theatre laughs and boos.
The crowd in the theatre was literally buzzing during a recent advance screening of Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Everyone’s cell phones had been confiscated and nobody knew what time it actually was.
Impatience begat face-to-face conversation and, nerdy and self-indulgent as it was, the energy in the air built to a fever pitch as the lights finally dimmed — the crowd anticipating the moment Toronto the city, as well as its people (a.k.a. them! get it?), would get a turn in Hollywood’s spotlight.
Suffice to say, the crowd was not disappointed.
Deadpool, that churlish, craggy-faced Marvel anti-hero will be hitting the big screen some time in 2012—played by dreamboat Ryan Reynolds, no less—so like me, if you didn’t know, you’ll be hearing the name and bandwagoning very soon. His gender bender counterpart, Lady Deadpool—girly-churl, blonde and babely—demanded a writer who knows that this is funny, hyper-meta shit and ‘Pool-ies always spit real talk. Enter Mary HK Choi, via phone from Comic-Con in San Diego.
It’s no secret that we heart the TheAwl.com writer and Complex contributing editor around these parts, so when the opportunity to interview Choi for the National Post’s Arts blog, The Ampersand, came up, I belly-flopped to it like an overeager drunk at a fancy pool party. You can read the shorter, more newbie-friendly conversation over there, but the full text is here for the comics and writer geeks out there.
Every so often I will scour the best of Craigslist’s ‘Best Of’ section to bring you, our faithful readers, the creme de la creme of internet classifieds based amusement. Without further ado, spend your lazy Sunday evening being glad you aren’t these folks.
- The internet continues to find ways to be awesome this week with an entire website devoted to ?uestlove’s celebrity stories. His MANY celebrity stories. There’s the one about M.I.A. walking into a glass door, and the one about Will Smith’s disappearing mansion, oh and the one about Rosario Dawson getting uppity about an afro pick. (How many crushes just died?) Honestly, I could just choose one anecdote a week and let this thing feed my morning dumps for the next however many months. -jc
- If we’re going to be regaled with celebrity tales, the next best thing after ?uestlove and Charlie Murphy has to be veteran ghostbuster Bill Murray. GQ snagged a rare interview with the gracefully aging comedian and revealed what we already know but enjoy reminding ourselves of: Bill Murray is a funny, funny man. Double Rainbow bonus for Murray’s claiming he did Garfield because he thought it was a Coen brothers movie. That’s going to be my excuse for everything from now on. Oh, I stole your winter tires? Dude, sorry, I totally thought I was in a Coen brothers movie! -sy
- …. and continuing with the celebrity-obsessed tone of this dump, something that’s been on my list ever since I saw Knowing (awful!) and Bad Lieutenant: Port of call New Orleans (awesome!!) in the same week is trying to explain what the hell is up with Nic Cage. How do you go from Leaving Las Vegas and Adaptation, to say, National Treasure? I mean, it’s just baffling. And Raising Arizona? Come on, amazing movie. The guys is a genius, and then he does Face Off. Anyways, now I don’t need to explain it because Dana Stevens at Slate has already done so. Much better than I ever could.-jkg
- And since we’re talking about Bill Murray, why not a little dumpster diving? Like, literally diving in a dumpster on Letterman. When this guys comes out of the wood work, he has his game face on. The following, 10 minute interview isn’t bad either. -jkg
Everybody knows the best parts of every movie are put in the trailer, so as a service, this is where we save you the time and money by telling you if a movie is worth it, based solely on that trailer. This time, Sofia Coppola’s Somewhere, the trailer for which has been out for some time now, but the movie isn’t slated to appear until Christmas holidays.
"Smell my fingers."
For the first time in 7 years a film has been banned from the Melbourne International Film Festival, and yay, it’s by Canadian writer, filmmaker and photographer Bruce LaBruce. I’m not sure why that makes me happy, but it does. My nationalism asserts itself in weird ways. LaBruce is no stranger to controversy — he’s best known for penning provocateur columns and shooting artful gay porn, and that certainly explains his latest opus. The film in question is called L.A. Zombie (get it?), and it’s what else: an awesome sounding gay zombie porn flick where aliens have sex with dead people, or something like that.
Donald McDonald, member of the Australian film classification board, had this to say:
In the opinion of the director, the film, if classified, would be classified X18+ or RC (refused classification) and, in this circumstance, the law requires the director to refuse an exemption…
Blah blah blah, we get it, the film is crazyballs. Also really weird? Reading a news story where the two principle figures are named Bruce LaBruce and Donald McDonald. Are you pulling my leg, or am I having sex with a zombie dude like right now?
Catch him if you can. (They did, eventually.)
“Barefoot Bandit” Colton Harris-Moore is a folk-hero of sorts in some parts. Not so much here in Toronto — the 19-year-old’s arrest on July 11 after years on the run made little news here and even when, to seemingly little interest or discussion — but that’s our loss.
Harris-Moore, a nouveau outdoors-y version of Frank Abagnale Jr., makes for a great story. Check out Bob Friel’s January piece on the teen fugitive for Outside magazine. Friel’s uniquely comprehensive perspective is also appropriately fractured: he’s clearly enamoured by the kid, but also belongs to the sleepy island community that Harris-Moore ransacked at will while dodging the pigs.
read more…
Why hasn’t anyone thought of this before? Canadian startup Lymbix are working on tone-recognition software for emails. Essentially a spell-checker for subtext.
THANK GOD.
I have serious problems both expressing and interpreting emotion or sarcasm in written communication. Thankfully I have developed my own personal shorthand, which I will now share with you, should you ever get a text message from me that says “you are a slut” and take it the wrong way (hint: it means I am calling you sexually promiscuous).
