I don’t know what you’re doing Monday the 21st and, truly, it doesn’t matter. Because I’m going to the Cat Circus. And any interest I might have shown in “what you’re up” to is purely an act, for my every thought turns to the Acro-Cats: the “Cirque du Soleil” of Feline Circus Acts.
That’s how they describe it.
I would settle for the Flea Brothers Missouri Cats of Squaller Revue. I really wouldn’t care. It’s a cat circus. Heavens, I don’t know what to wear!
Did I mention there will be an appearance by the ROCK-CATS??! I’ve already forgotten about that Pixies show I went to. I thought the Rock Cats was a pretty lame name, after the litany of cat puns on the Circus Cats website (”up close and purr-sonal tour…” “purr-sonality.” Basically, purr puns), until I realized it’s a play on The Rockettes. Come on, Acro-Cats try a little harder. You’ve got a cat on an electric guitar, and while that isn’t as impressive as THIS, it’s worthy of a better name than “Rock Cats.” I mean, off the top of my head I can think of, like, five mediocre ones. “Cat the Wet Sprocket.” “Meow-thew Sweet.” “Digable Planets (and cats)” “Catman Crothers.” “Catthole Surfers.” And that’s mostly just the nineties names!
I mean, LOOK at this shit! YES I WILL BE PAYING MONEY TO SEE THIS, DON’T ASK ME AGAIN!
All this Cat Circus hullaballoo reminded me of one of my all-time favorite interview “gets.” I was just starting out as a writer at the Western Courier, at Western Illinois University. I think this article about the original Jingle Cats (named, ahem, “Welcome to the Jingle”) really shows its age (ignoring the Making the Band reference), but I still remember how excited I was to get this as a giant cover story in our Entertainment Section, complete with a giant cat head on the cover. I think it’s about time for a follow-up interview with Cheeseball. But it’s still a pretty good story. Get this drama:
“Spalla admits that growing up in Los Angeles, he was always sort of a cat person, but while living in a Beverly Hills apartment, a fateful encounter would eventually lead to the Jingle Cats we know today.
“I found (Cheese Puff). Somebody had locked him in a basement and put poison food in there. And I heard meowing through the air-conditioning system, and I went down there and the door was locked,” he said.
“We broke the lock off and we rescued Cheese Puff. He was real small and he had a giant head because he hadn’t had any food. There was, like, cottage cheese that had poison in it and he wouldn’t eat it.”
Luckily for Cheese Puff, Spalla took him in and even started taking the new pet to his job at a sound effects studio, where he was then recording a version of Jingle Bells.”
And because that cat was saved, I can now welcome you to the stuff of Christmas nightmares…from my Krampus-filled heart to yours….The original Jingle Cats.
I had almost convinced myself I could do this too. But my cat Cricket Sanjaya Ward is fat, and lacks the motivation of her father! If she would only TRY a little harder and APPLY HER DAMN SELF we could be rich she could live out her dreams of SINGING! GOD! THE HENDERSON’S CAT CAN SING, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?
SHOWN: The untold riches denied me and my own pets
I’ve finally figured out my perfect movie formula: What could possibly be more exciting than…
A.) the sudden critical acclaim and respect of a forgotten actor whose face looks like a Jim Henson Creature Shop wet dream (see: MICKEY ROURKE, SID HAIG).
B.) The successful, thoughtful resurrection of a once dead and buried property (see: BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, ROCKY BALBOA.)
Combine them, and you’ve got a case of the fanboy warm-and-fuzzies that is equal parts cheery Gizmo in a Barbie convertible and Jagermeister after a chest cold. Actually, that’s the same formula that could lead to a fiery pink wreck of blood and hair all over the interstate. Well, I’m taking my chances. Here are the mash-ups I want to see.
JACKIE EARLE HALEY in THE ICE CREAM MAN. We all know JEH is the rich man’s Clint Howard, and he’s proven he’s more than just a pretty face in WATCHMEN (advertised as “Watchman” on his official site, which may not be official). Take his testicle-clipping performance in Little Children, add those nuts to a warm waffle cone, and BAM…origin story! This property’s gotta be cheaper than a new Nightmare on Elm Street film, and a helluva lot more fun. The Ice Cream Man’s puns make Freddy Krueger look like the greatest stand-up comic in horror.
ERNEST BORGNINE in GHOULIES! Ernest Borgnine’s career is already in the toilet (apologies to fans of Lifetime’s “A Grandpa For Christmas”), so why not let this beloved actor resurrect a movie about ass-biting sewer puppets? Ok, show of hands if you loved Ernie in ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK and his Best Actor Oscar-Winning MARTY—a movie which you’ve never seen but act like you have around film buff friends? [everyone raises hand] Ok, now show of hands if the VHS cover for Ghoulies delayed your potty training by three years as a kid? [everyone born before after 1980 raises hand]. So let’s combine the two and pinch out some movie magic.
JEFFREY JONES in FRIGHT NIGHT! This on-again, off-again remake has been in the works for some time, but it would have already been out and made a Gazillion US Dollars if they’d only hired the terrifying Jeffrey Jones as the lead vampire! Jeffrey Jones already built a career on making people feel weird and uncomfortable in FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF and HOWARD THE DUCK, and he took it to “video of ALF’s dad snorting crack off a male hooker” levels by becoming a registered sex offender. Well if Roman Polanski’s taught us anything, it’s that Hollywood is willing to overlook dalliances and foibles with unwilling 14-year-olds. People love a good Jeffrey Jones role, vampires are hawt right now, and underdogs NOW Comics would probably like to re-launch their 80s Fright Night series, so it’s a win-win-win!
Let’s show all show some critical compassion to Jones and some, oh…what’s the word. He yelled it at his secretary in Ferris Bueller? Oh yeah: “GRRAAACCCCE!!!!”
ANDY SERKIS in MAC AND ME! The Onion AV club unfairly dumped on this movie recently, using words like “shameless and wrong,” “hideous” and “horrifically scarred fetus.” Well, if a movie about a “O-faced” creature who survives on Coke and McDonalds product-placement is wrong, I don’t wanna be right. I loved this terrible, terrible, exploitative film as a kid. And that’s why Andy Serkis should slap on that Ping Pong Ball Suit of his and exchange his psychotic pursuit of the One Ring for a Big Mac Attack (wouldn’t it have been perfect if I’d have said “trade the One Ring for an Onion Ring there?” Well kiss my ass. McDonald’s doesn’t serve ‘em and I have a Journalism degree to uphold, thanks for asking.)
[True Story Digression: At the end of Mac and Me, and big title card promises "WE'LL BE BACK!" So, every year for 3 or 4 years, I would ask my mom when that Mac & Me sequel was coming, and she'd make up something about a filming delay. After it finally sank in that there was no sequel, I was crushed and jilted by Hollywood from that day forward. You don't promise little kids sequels and never deliver. A movie you love as a child is like a little universe that actually exists in your brain, and when there are no more movies it's like you've blown up Krypton in that kid's mind. You know that sinking feeling you get when you turn on Animal Crossing for the first time in 3 years, and your cute, once-loved village has been overrun by cockroaches and the stench of death? THAT'S WHAT WAS GOING ON TO THE MAC & ME UNIVERSE IN MY MIND EACH YEAR HOLLYWOOD DIDN'T GIVE ME A GOD DAMNED SEQUEL.
I still have a Mac and Me sized hole that has never been filled. And it's exactly as disgusting looking as that sounds.]
I’m only going to say this once, and it’s very, VERY important that you understand completely: because what I’m about to tell you is the most important advice you’re ever going to get concerning the video game system in front of you. Even if you think you know ever code in the book. Under no circumstances—no matter how your NES looks at you, no matter how much it cries, no matter how much it begs—the most IMPORTANT rule. The rule you can NEVER, EVER forget is…well, I’ll just let Olympic Videogame master Donn Nauert tell you:
Nintendo Tip: do this with your mouth, and often, for free continues.
Ladies, if you ever see this guy, get outta town. Unless it is of paramount importance for you to find someone’s wife, of course. If that’s the case, find out all you can about the husband and his entire family. Genealogy is creepy, man.
“Crack the identity of that woman. Look at the husbands dealings. Trace his entire family…Go now…”
What if God were one of us? Just a mumbling, ghetto-fabulous, do-nothing slob like one of us? “JC in Tha Hood” is the kind of movie that appears like a star of wonder, star of bright in the video store. How can you not immediately grab this off the shelf, and be healed by its power?
Saafir…Caffeine…Shorty Mack…Eastwood. Don’t look for any Da Vinci Code meaning to these seemingly random words on the DVD cover: these are the film’s actors. Caffeine (you know, like the drank!), Eastwood (not Clint ), Shorty Mack (in the flesh!)…they’re all here like a Holy Trinity with a +1 on the guest list!
We rented this and Left Behind last weekend (naturally). Needless to say, after watching JC In Tha Hood, we had not a second to devote to Kirk Cameron’s end-of-the-world shenanigans. They suddenly seemed silly next to JC’s keepin’ it real message.
Saafir plays a character named “Jesus,” and he at least has the “one name” thing in common. Everything else…not so much. Picture if Humpty Hump from Digital Underground and Jesus got bizzee in a Burger King bathroom. You’d get JC in Tha Hood.
His voice is, like, transcendent. Just the way he says Lucifer as “Loocifer” floors me. I can’t get enough of it. When he says “Wha happen, Loocifer?”, it’s like a crappy Song of Solomon on mine ear. “My Fah-thuh, who arts in hea-vun” is another favorite. The movie even seems to ask the audience “what if Jesus was BLACK?” I know, I know…this question was resolved by Yahoo! an entire YEAR AGO!
Not convinced of the godsend that is JC in Tha Hood? Watch these jaw-dropping clips from the movie (for sale here), which I’m officially propping up as the Christian version of The Room! Seriously, you have to see the entire movie. This montage doesn’t do it justice.
(note: while JC in Tha Hood has the trappings of a Christian film—and while I doubt that capital-g God cares which mortals are saying words like “motherfucker” down here on Earth, in English or otherwise—this movie is full of language, sexual violence and homeless funk that would make the Pope weep. It’s definitely Too Hot for the Fireproof Crowd. I left out the, ahem, sexual romance for this montage.)
Additional things you’ll get to see when (and I say WHEN) you watch this movie:
- A long speech between Satan (in a cherry red Brooks Brothers suit) and Jesus about a battle for souls, FOLLOWED by scenes of Satan getting people to do awful things to themselves. And what’s the titular Jesus do this whole time? HE WALKS AROUND LA HOLDING A BIBLE IN THE AIR. There is not ONE scene between Jesus and anyone in this movie who needs his immediate help. It’s maddening. The whole time my friends kept screaming “Jesus, DO something already!”
-A green-screen heaven. No, not the LucasArts ranch. An actual green-screen heaven.
-A whore-killing pimp who has a full-size posters of The Mummy, The Matrix, and one prominently displayed Paul Hogan/Elijah Wood Flipper Poster in his apartment. And it appears to be SIGNED!
-A slideshow from director Dale Stelly (which just makes me want to say “Stale Deli!” when I read it) featuring the crew slamming Colt 45s. Works every time! Also, the gangbanger’s car says “STELLY” on the license plate, which kind of takes me out of the film. Which is where I wanted to be, actually. So, in that case…thank you!
-A drawn out final scene on a staircase, where a reformed gang member preaches the gospel and thanks his members for letting him preach in the house “while the church is being worked on.” Uh-huh. The church is under construction. So we couldn’t film there. Eli eli lama sabachthani?* ["My God, My God, why have you forsaken my Location Scout?"]
-At least 3 different takes of the “Hey Old Man, wanna buy some DRUUUGGS?” guy. [note: those guys are totally the same age, but he insists on calling him "gramps" and "old man" in every version of the 3 stories! GAHH!!! Also, this guy would make a GREAT team with whistle-enthusiast Bubb Rubb.]
Woo-WOOO! WANT SOME DRUGS, OLD TIMER? WOOOOOO!!!!! THA DRUGZ GOES WOO-WOOOO!!!
And by the time the whole film ends with someone screaming “GLORY!” into a microphone—WHO?!?! Someone TELL ME WHO!!!—followed by an inexplicable tribute to those who lived through 9/11…well, it’s stranger than any apocalyptic future Johnny Cash sang about.
Hey, why not listen to a really amazing 80s flavoredHalloween Mix by my friend DJ Daymage while you read this post? You can even download the FREE one hour mix RIGHT HERE. This jam is perfect for Halloween parties, or as you’re putting on your slutty, slutty costume (you tramp!).
I’ve been listening to “Hall09een” every day since I got it, and haven’t been in a bad mood since.
DJ Daymage’s mix is cold Halloween rain on a rubberband-and-staple mask. It’s not believing in the razor-blade apple legend, but secretly believing it. It’s Elvira and Spuds Mackenzie, like holiday clockwork, on your television. It’s a hard plastic pumpkin bucket. It’s my childhood in headphones.
The punk/hair metal/goth industrial blend (naturally) just oozes with a kind of gritty, Vestron Video/Cannon Films/Golan-Globus Productions quality that takes me back to marathon VHS viewings of anything directed by Fred Dekker or starring Donald Pleasence. I can’t get enough of it. It makes me feel like I have a little candle in my belly, and I’m sitting on your front porch.
Every Halloween since high school, I have a tradition where I blare The Misfits Collection II as it gets dark out. This year, I think I officially have a new tradition.
The thing I like most about it, is it doesn’t go for the easy Halloween inclusions (there’s only a cursory nod to Thriller, along with that hilarious Michael Jackson voice outtake from the Special Edition). That said, I enjoy the cheap chainsaw and scream effects here and there, because those terrible haunted houses are so closely tied to low-budget horror movies in my mind. The audio segues are both hilarious and organic (sorry, I hate using that word…but I’m too tired to come up with something else and it fits), especially the Dead Alive clip about “a splitting headache, and the stupid hip hop is not helping.”
This is pure 80s, low-budget, grimy slasher stuff. I instantly feel 10 again when I hear this…from the scratchy excerpts from kid’s read-along records, to Freddy Krueger in not one, but TWO endearing and cheesy raps by DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince and the Fat Boys. Say what you want, “Are You Ready For Freddy”’s chorus is catchy, like trying to put a razor-bladed glove through the arm of your sweater.
Pictured: Someone pitched this at a meeting. They voted “yes.”
And even that Fresh Prince song, silly as hell, still makes me feel a little freaked out. This guy Jess Matthews and I had it on a little brown tape recorder when we were kids, and used to walk through this tiny alley by my dad’s office (where we swore there was blood on the wall), made up our own Freddy mythology, listened to the song, sang and acted out the parts (I was usually The Fresh Prince. Too scared to watch the actual movie to get Freddy’s moves down).
Similarly, a girl I work with made me turn the mix off when the Silver Shamrock song from Halloween III plays. When there’s no more logic in hell, irrational fears will walk the earth.
Also, to this day, the bass line from “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” can still reanimate a thousand zombies.
So you’ve got the J. Geils Band Fright Night theme, “Halloween” by Siouxsie and the Banshees, Pet Semetary by the Ramones (as seen in my friend TJ’s amazing Weirdest Horror Movie Songs write-up at Topless Robot), and Evil Nine’s “They Live,” an amazing song I’d never heard (it’s a lot like Daft Punk’s Technologic meets a 7-minute John Carpenter fist fight). And a whole bunch more.
My only complaint is I wanted it to go on a little longer. But, if it’s anything like it’s subject matter, I expect a cheap and easy sequel. With more blood.
Imagine my excitement when, while shopping at Goodwill in preparation for an upcoming appearance on “Hoarders”, I saw THIS staring back at me from the VHS rack…
And imagine my sour disappointment face when I found out this is what the video actually is….
In addition to the promise of being “100% Wild”, The back boasts “21 hunts, 17 kills and 4 misses!” Ooo, the tension! Which four deer will escape from death’s icy, orange-vest-wearing grasp? Furthermore:
“Throughout the video, we take totally wild and totally unfenced bucks. Everyone gets in on the action! You’ll see a lady take a huge 9 pt. buck and some kiddo’s take their first deer.”
This is either the most poorly written copy for a deer video ever, or a description of the world’s most illegal pornography.
Still, this clip I saw on TV yesterday cooks up a nice WTF Soup with a brothy, full-flavored “holy shit” bouillon base. Watch how the kid just jacks around with that neck before, you know, giving thanks to Jesus. If you’re from the Midwest, these good-natured hunters and what they’re doing may not seem too crazy, until you take a step outside your little world for a quick second and then actually realize that THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING CRAZY.
You may or may not know (because those are your only two options) that my friends and I made a little film called Day of the Claus. We edited it on a VCR, and therefore I have a real nostalgia for anything made by kids goofing around pre-MacBook pro (just like Mark Borschardt from American Movie probably feels about 16MM film).
So while searching for “werewolf bad” on YouTube (because really…why not at 8:30 in the evening, while drinking 7UP Cherry Anti-Oxidant pop), I found these guys: the coolest dudes on the internet. Throw in a retarded beast-man, and just try and tell me these aren’t the real life Goonies.
These masterpieces average about 13 views. My goal is to reach 1,000 by the end of the day, at least. So, please…tell a friend.
Exhibit A: “Wilderness Buddies.” In this episode, the Wilderness Buddies try to catch a fish. I won’t ruin the ending! The director makes the curious decision of pointing the camera directly at one a kid’s ass for an extended periods of time and, while it’s not an aesthetic choice I agree with, it does little to detract from the running musical theme throughout the short.
I think the director does a great job of establishing these characters and the plot right away. “I’m hungry, I’m going to go catch a fish,” announces the protagonist, and away we go! The viewer is now thrust into the wilderness buddies’ world. It recalls a young Sean Astin in “White Water Summer,” or perhaps “Deliverance” meets “The Sandlot.”
“Pa! That could be dangerous!” announces fan-favorite character “I Love New York Kid.” Though this is meant to bring levity to the situation, it’s clear that Chunk I Love New York Kid is worried, and a real tension exists beneath the surface of this scene.
The film’s foil, “Singing Guy,” serves two purposes: to sing the Wilderness Buddies theme song in perpetuity, and to nag at “fishing guy” until he breaks concentration, and no longer believes in himself. Utterly tragic.
Only at the end does the director reveal himself in a brief, fan-service cameo.
Then there’s this, a music video for Safety Dance. If this doesn’t fill you with utter delight, your heart is a useless organ. It has 16 views.
This may be their masterpiece, “Hobo Hunt.” Description: “An idiot hobo hunter hunts down a hobo.” That’s about all you need to know, except it has the world’s greatest dialogue, and a pretty satisfying ending that I’m pretty sure Chunk I Love New York Kid didn’t know about ahead of time.
Remember a more charming, innocent time when you didn’t associate the eleven o’ clock hour with steel drums and Joe Francis’ Wayward Daughters Gone Wild? When alluding to sex, you had to say “party” or “make whoopi” or “have a wet whoopi party down at Flop Town?” Sure, we all do.
Ad #1: “We talked about EVERYTHING.”
When I feel lonely, I feel better knowing there’s a mom-jeans wearing Jersey girl out there wants to “tawlk, or just listen.” She’s on that phone line (you know, that fun phone line? Anyhowel…) We had SO much fun listening to how she says the word “anyhow.” For once, I’m just glad what’s actually on the other end of the phone during these calls is well-represented. Anyheowl, here it is….
Shown: Look into the eyeball.
Ad #2: “Actual Volleyball Coach Seeks Phone Love”
You know, I’m willing to suspend disbelief that a nympho sex kitten is waiting by the phone at all hours for my call, twirling the phone cord betwixt her fingers and painting her nails with little Pac-Men (hey, its my fantasy, OK? Stay out of this). But I draw the line at believing that male Volleyball coaches, female Playgirl models (aren’t Playgirl models dudes?), and Ambien-eating Executive Secretaries (that’s like saying CEO of Fry Cooks) are lining up to call, or even “talk to the Monitor if they’d like to be in the commercial.” What the hell? “You know, I’ve taken this Volleyball coaching thing about as far as it can go. It’s time to use my clout to represent a phone sex line.”
Hi, I’m Chad the Volleyball Coach—Bump, set, spike it, that’s the way I like it. Let’s have phone sex and, failing that, where are the volleyball games in my area?
Ad #3: “Be All That You Can Be Anyway You Want.”
This is probably one of my all time terrible favorites. It just drives me crazy the way the girl says “let me tell you about an exciting party line called 976-2900,” while confusing sleep deprivation for sexiness. I think I’ll try that sometime:
“Hey Chris, what’s your phone number?”
“My phone number? It’s called 555-2900″
“Ok, forget it if you’re going to be an asshole. What’s your email?”
“Let me tell you about my email called ChrisChrisChris@whooptydoo.com”
Also, “You can be yourself, or anyway you want.” Oh, good to hear! Can I also be on the phone, or any place I need?
Click through for more un-sexiness, and the LONGEST PHONE NUMBER EVER...
