Friday Morning Videos: “Mind Over Matter”…. And a tribute to Roger Ebert.

It’s not Friday. I don’t care.

I checked into Facebook an hour or so ago and saw that one of my friends had changed his cover photo to an adorable picture of Siskel, Ebert, Telly the Monster and Oscar the Grouch. I laughed. Then I scrolled down and saw why he posted it: after many years of an epic battle, cancer finally proved, again, that it sucks the most of all the things that suck. It took Roger Ebert. Come on, cancer. We all agree you’re the Suckiest of the Suck. Just stop.

My dad, sister and I watched Siskel and Ebert religiously. Our local movie theater, a converted opera house, had its own balcony, and it was always closed because of the extreme rat infestation up there, but we always fantasized that we’d sneak up there, just like they did, and get to Talk Movies. In college, my pledge name was “Siskel,” presumably for all the VHS videos I had in my room, and I remember grumbling to a friend that I was SO more Ebert than Siskel.

In the last few years I’ve been reading Ebert’s blog regularly, checking into it every few weeks, and realized some things I hadn’t known about him. He’s a brilliant writer, first of all. He’s a compassionate person. He’s a devoted husband, crazy about his wife in a way that most of us can dream about, and she’s the most extraordinary person: beautiful, strong, and fiercely caring for him. Of course, those descriptions all came from him, and I can’t imagine that he’d ever see her as anything but a warrior angel.

It breaks my heart to re-read those sentences and realize I inadvertently used present tense, and that I should’ve said “was.” He WAS those things. Cancer. Suck.

After wiping the tears from my keyboard, I knew I’d have to post a SlumberPartyMovies tribute to him. To what I’m sure would’ve been his horror, I first thought of “Summer School”–a movie I saw in a drive-in double feature, paired with “Lost Boys.” (BTW: How radical am I? Except that was the first time I’d worn my contact lenses, and one fell out during “Cry Little Sister.”)

My sister and I loved this movie. Like, LOVED it. Like, one summer, when we were totally bored, I helped Samantha write down every word of the movie in the computer so we could print it out and have the whole script. Kids, this is what your elders did before the internet.

Thumbs way up!

Thumbs way up!

I tried finding a scene from the movie when Chainsaw and Dave give one of their Siskel and Ebert reviews–like after the roller coaster, when they give a thumbs-up/thumbs-down, and then confirm it’s a thumbs-up when a classmate barfs into the garbage can. But I couldn’t find it. What I did find was this gem.

The song, “Mind Over Matter,” rocks on every level, and we had it on our version of repeat, which is to say, we recorded it over and over on a whole tape and let it play continuously. The song plays when the students are taking their Big Test and going into labor, and–miracle of miracles–is sung by “Better Off Dead” singer EG Daily. (How did I not know that?)

Watch this video. You won’t regret it. Especially not the part at about 2:10 when motherfucking Carl Reiner dances in a linen suit.  I can’t say for certain, but I’m reasonably sure this is the only appearance he ever made in a music video. What else? Strobe lights, aerobic thongs, and the cast performs onstage, something you won’t see happen again until Rockula.

What did Mr. Ebert think of Summer School? I’d tell you, except the SunTimes server crashed under the weight of millions of internet mourners moments after the news broke. I can tell you what the excerpt on Google says: “Summer School is a movie like that, a comedy so listless, leisurely and unspirited that it was an act of the will for me to care about it, even …”

My guess is, the rest of the review don’t go so good.

But Mr. Ebert, I still choose to pay tribute to you with “Mind Over Matter” anyway. And this might sound as hokey as a principal letting a teacher get tenure even though 80% of his class fails summer school, but you, sir, are the greatest example of mind over matter I’ve ever known. You fought cancer. You lost half your damned face, for Christ’s sake. And still, you wrote to us, and spoke to us, and we developed with you the kind of one-sided personal bond that one can only get by being a blogger, and allowing comments, and sharing your story with the world.

We’ll see you at the movies.

RIP Roger Ebert. Hope Siskel saved the aisle seat for you.

Oh come on, Gene! He was an angry guy....He lost his son. Joshua.

Oh come on, Gene! He was an angry guy….He lost his son. Joshua.

Sigh. Roger Ebert has died, and here I thought he was going to beat cancer. In tribute, I’ll post about War Games yet again. Here is an “At the Movies” review of War games. He and Siskel sound like they’re arguing, but they’re both right.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gEJpaga7gQ

Let Me Make it Up to You with War Games.

So yesterday I decided to play a little April Fools joke on you, Lerlines. Nothing in that Gigli post was true, except that Gigli is a really bad movie, and that everyone in Hollywood hates Martin Brest. How much? Well, they didn’t like him very much before Gigli, how do you think they feel about him now? Hmm? The same way you feel about me? Aw come on, Lerlines. Don’t stay mad. Here. Here is a picture of young Matthew Broderick figuring out that the password is Joshua. Think of it as an apology Broderick:

The technology is amazing!

Ooh! A floppy!

That was true, by the way. Martin really did get fired from War Games. Much  has been written about Brest’s career, but I think this passage from War Games’ Wiki page sums it all up nicely.

Martin Brest was originally hired as director but was fired after 12 days of shooting because of an on-set argument with the producers,[3] and replaced with John Badham. Several of the scenes shot by Brest remain in the final film. Badham said that “[Brest had] taken a somewhat dark approach to the story and the way it was shot. It was like [Broderick and Sheedy] were doing someNazi undercover thing. So it was my job to make it seem like they were having fun, and that it was exciting.” According to Badham, Broderick and Sheedy were “stiff as boards” when they came onto the sound stage, having both Brest’s dark vision and the idea that they were going to get fired in their minds. Badham did 12–14 takes of the first shot to loosen the actors up. At one point, Badham decided to have a race with the two actors around the sound stage with the one who came last having to sing a song to the crew. Badham lost and sang “The Happy Wanderer“, the silliest song he could think of.[4]

For me, this is the last word on Brest’s contribution to War Games because this implies that it was Badham and not Brest who was responsible for my favourite bit in the film when Ally Sheedy laments that she will miss out on starring in a local morning aerobics show because the world is going to end. Brilliant.

I guess I should just throw out my matching leotard-tights-leg warmer combo.

I guess I should just throw out my matching leotard-tights-leg warmer combo.

All that racing around the set also explains why Sheedy and Broderick are always sweaty. Because they were running around…not because they were doing Nazi stuff, sneaking around behind everyone’s back, insulting teachers, thumbing their noses at travel agents and school administration, not waiting for the release of text-only computer games, finding back-doors, playing April Fools Day pranks on their Lerlines. Oh right. That was me. Sorry about that. Will the War Games trailer make it up to you? It’s pretty good.

April Fools is for Fools and Bennifer Fans.

April Fools Day has become a bore. All the original Star Trek actors will be starring in the next Star Wars movie (Ha! As if Shatner would ever appear in a film with Chewbacca and break his own clause that prohibits co-stars with more body hair than him). Youtube is going dark because they are sick of cashing all those enormous cat-fell-down-the-stairs-again checks. Google introduces yet another impossible technical advance that we all secretly want and are now pissed that we can’t have. It’s like an episode of Two and A Half Men–the jokes are plentiful, amateurish, and older than the cocaine scars on Charlie Sheen’s septum.

The hairiest man in the room...always.

Legally the hairiest man in the room.

The good April Fools Jokes  are the ones we don’t figure out right away–like the photoshopped Migrant Mother, The Taco Liberty Bell, and Bush’s second term. But the very best April Fools pranks are the ones we never figure out. Which ones? I can’t say, we haven’t figured it them out yet. However I’ve had my suspicions about the movie Gigli for some time. First of all, it was released on March 31st in 2003. That really should’ve set off some alarm bells. Especially when it turned out to be so hellaciously bad.

Ben and Jen taking an on-camera break to contemplate what went wrong. Trivia: this scene actually made the final cut.

Ben and Jen taking an on-camera break to contemplate what went wrong. Trivia: this scene actually made the final cut.

I know what you’re thinking. “I’ve never seen Gigli…it’s probably not as bad as everyone says it was.” Wrong. It was so bad, that the love scene that featured the biggest, most famous and sexiest couple in America consisted almost entirely of Ben Affleck talking about his penis and Jennifer Lopez demanding oral sex with the classic line: “It’s Turkey time. Gobble. Gobble.” It was so bad that even people who liked to say the word “Bennifer” and who bought that whole “Jenny from the block” BS didn’t like it. I mean, come on, J-Lo…you can’t have a rider demanding an all white dressing room filled with white lilies and honey peanut Balance Bars and call yourself Jenny from the block.

Speaking of white lilies, anyone who is unlucky enough to have actually watched even a small portion of Gigli, has had it inexplicably beaten into their heads that Gigli is Italian for lily. And anyone with a working knowledge of the Encyclopedia Britannica can discover that part of Ancient Greece’s April Fools day was celebrated by secretly fixing a lily to your friend’s back and laughing your toga-clad ass off when she finally discovered it. The last person walking around town with a lily on her back was a special kind of stupid and was henceforth known as Lilium Stultus.

The stealth placing of the stultus lily.

The stealth placing of the stultus lily.

I know what you’re thinking. “Um…that sounds kind of dumb…even for you.” Fair enough, you bitch, but what about this: Gigli was directed by fallen Hollywood wunderkind, Martin Brest. Martin has since said of Gigli, and I quote, “I had nothing to do with that piece of sewage.” We assumed that he was alluding to the rumor that his original cut of the film followed a much darker plot where the adorable developmentally disabled kid gets killed at the end by Christopher Walken…instead of ending up on a Baywatch set (which is like a death in itself, isn’t it?) But does that really make sense? Wouldn’t killing the smartest character in the flick actually make it worse? (Spoiler alert: it would.)

These adorably precocious teens hate that guy.

These adorably precocious teens hate that guy.

Here’s what I think happened. The studio had some intern slap the flick together. They planned to release Gigli as an obvious April Fools joke, not only on the American public who had foolishly fallen for the Jen and Ben or Ben and Jen thing, but also on a director who had fallen out of favour after getting kicked off War Games. A movie called Lily, released the day before April Fools, starring Bennifer, directed by Marty Boobs…and we fell for it. Well played, Hollywood. Well played. … It beats the crap out of Bacon Scope anyway.

Rocky Horror Picture Show, Birthdays, and the Art of Audience Participa…pa…pation.

I feel pretty!

I feel pretty!

It’s Spiegelmama’s birthday and this post is for her! Back when we were teens, we had this thing called a record player. It played large scratchy discs called records. They looked like dinner plates, only blacker and noisier. Our two favorites were Queen’s Greatest Hits and The Rocky Horror Picture Show Say it which featured audience participation from a thickly accented, well-seasoned New York audience.

This picture is dedicated to anyone who got their cherry popped by Sal.

This picture is dedicated to anyone who got their cherry popped by Sal.

We listened to it forwards and backwards (and then stuck to forwards because if you play Rocky Horror backwards all you get is a recipe for ham and tuna casserole).  We learned when to yell “Where’s your neck?” “Work that bird!” and  “Describe your balls!” Important life lessons for a couple of Jr. High School kids in New Hampshire, for sure.

One of the best bits was at the end, when Rif-Raf condemns Frank through song, and one voice rings out from the 8th Street Playhouse in New York to a scratchy record player in Nashua, asking, “Can you explain.”Then when Tim Curry contritely and breathlessly delivers the line, “I can explain.” The voice rings out again with “This better be good. You got shot the last time.”

Prepare the transit beam, Mother.

Prepare the transit beam, Mother.

You’ll find the scene here at 3:55…without audience participation, but it plays in my head, and Spiegelmama’s as well.

 

10 Slumber Party Movie Characters Who Inspire Me

Dottie and Alix over at ModernKiddo.com always have terrific blog ideas, and since I have no inspiration this week for a Friday Morning Video, I’m going to steal spin-off their 15 Characters That Inspired Me idea, Slumber Party Movies-style. This is by no means a complete list.

1. Stef from The Goonies

God put that rock there for a purpose, Brand.

God put that rock there for a purpose, Brand.

Stef wore glasses, had short choppy blonde hair, and her BFF was the prettiest girl in school. She managed to mostly keep her cool, even after losing her glasses–I had nightmares about losing my glasses, literally–and in the end, got the funny guy in the Purple Rain t-shirt. Who wouldn’t call that a win?

2.  Julie from American Anthem

No, I will not dance to Swiss-style lederhosen music.

No, I will not dance to Swiss-style lederhosen music.

She was a gymnast who broke the mold and danced to her crippled friend’s synthesized symphony, and then had gymnastic sex with Mitch fucking Gaylord.  I took acrobatics because of her. Until I hyperextended my elbow mid back-limber and said screw this, I’m done. What do you want? We can’t all be Becky Cameron.

3. Sara from Labyrinth

Jareth said WHAT?

Jareth said WHAT?

She’s a bratty teenager who sees her parents as abusive because they ask her to babysit when she doesn’t have other plans. But she also lives in a fantasy world where she’s a warrior princess, rescuing said baby brother from an overfamiliar Goblin King with a crush on her. It’s no secret: part of the reason I had children was so that I could pretend, again, that I’m also a warrior princess.

4. Jan Brady

How DOES she do her tendrils?

How DOES she do her tendrils?

I was a middle child who imagined myself to be far more persecuted than I actually was. Plus, I had short hair and was desperate for long hair. That’s pretty much it.

5. Blair from The Facts of Life

Blair, before she found Jesus.

Blair, before she found Jesus.

Yeah, I know. We’re all supposed to like Jo best, because Blair was a rich bitch with too many clothes and too much hair, and she’s also kind of mean. But she had a lot of clothes, and a lot of hair, and she was also kind of mean.

6. Louise from Teen Witch

She likes boys.

She likes boys.

By the time 1989 rolled around, I was 14 and feeling the impact of being the nerdy one in school. Then along comes Louise, who, it turns out, comes from a long line of witches, and can wish herself into being popular AND getting Dan Gauthier, plus she magicks her spunky BFF into SPM rap history.

Which brings me to Inspiration #6.5: the BFF. Look at how funky she is.

7. Jordan from Real Genius

Meet me, if I were an even bigger geek.

Meet me, if I were an even bigger geek.

Nearly every time I’ve watched this movie with someone, they’ve stopped midway through Jordan’s introduction, looked at me, and said, “She is SO you.” Well, sure she is. Except she’s twice as brilliant as I am (and that’s saying something), much better at building things, and can knit. Like, really, really well.

8. Lisa from Weird Science

She'll kick your ass, Al.

She’ll kick your ass, Al.

I’m not even justifying this with an explanation. But here’s one, in case you require one.

9. Lynn from Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Don't bother her when she's watching DTV.

Don’t bother her when she’s watching DTV.

Best BFF ever. Cute, funny, sassy, and she has a reversible fuzzy Velcroed Catholic schoolgirl kilt. And a grasshopper hat. And dinosaur barrettes. Will someone bring back dinosaur barrettes, please?

10.  Billie Jean from The Legend of Billie Jean

Say it with me: Fair is fair!

Say it with me: Fair is fair!

Billie Jean kidnaps adorable geeks, defends her brother, denies an overgrown slug sexual advances, and inspires a nationwide movement to stand up for yourself. We could use some Billie Jeans these days.

That’s the start of my list. Add yours in the comments.

On this St Patrick’s Day, Let Us All Drink Like a Pregnant Lass From A Roddy Doyle Novel.

But only if you want to get alcohol poisoning, because, up the pole or not, Irish ladies can knock ’em back.

Have another rum and coke, preggo!

Have another rum and coke, preggo!

Of course I realize that when one thinks of movies based on Roddy Doyle novels, they think of The Commitments, and so do I, but I also think of the second movie in his Barrytown trilogy  The Snapper (and to a lesser extent, the third movie, The Van, which I’ll save for another post).

I think of it so often, that when I was pregnant with my now nearly-seven-year-old daughter, I referred to her fetus self as Snappy (a nickname that is still occasionally busted out). Also, I thought of my pregnancy in terms of the stages of Sharon’s pregnancy–as in oh, I’m in the “Just remembered who the father is” trimester. Of course, I knew who the father was (spoiler alert: he was not a Spanish sailor), and I did not drink because I saw The Snapper as a bit of a cautionary tale, warning young preggos to keep it sober lest they end up in labor on a rainy street corner with puke in their purse, waiting on a drunk friend to hail a cab…or worse they could name the baby after that date-raping slab of Irish Cheddar, George Burgess (pronounced BORgess).

Taxi! Drunk lady in labor!

Taxi! Drunk lady in labor!

The funny thing is that this was not the main point of the movie. Sure, maybe our protagonist with the protruding belly would not have gotten up-the-pole to begin with if she had “taken it easy”, but all is well that ends well…with a black purse as the film’s only casualty.

Here's a tip. Next time puke in someone else's purse.

Here’s a tip. Next time puke in someone else’s purse.

During the course of Sharon’s shameful pregnancy, she ends up getting closer to her father, Dessie, and he, as a direct result of learning more about the female reproductive system, greatly improves his sex life with his wife, Kay. Most astonishing (to an American audience), the baby is born healthy and not looking like something you might find bursting out of John Hurt’s chest.

Speaking of audiences in The States, watch this video and try to imagine how this scene would play out in an American movie. Please note the audience’s reaction to her performance, as well as her parent’s reaction to her state the next morning.

The name’s Gil. As in Gil-ty.

Yesterday was my youngest daughter’s birthday–the little peanut’s two!–and so today I wanted to share a birthday scene. I could’ve gone with “Sixteen Candles,” or any number of other teen party scenes, but this was the first thing that came to mind: Cowboy Gil from Parenthood (the 1989 version, not the Gilmore Girls version).

cowboygil

It has a number of things going for it:

  • Steve Martin in bathmat chaps.
  • Steve Martin describing slipping in a dead cowboy’s guts to seven-year-olds.
  • Steve Martin.

Really, though, the best part of this scene is that, to me, it perfectly demonstrates how feeling silly is its own parental reward.

I couldn’t find the whole clip ANYWHERE on YouTube, so I have to send you over to a site called AnyClip. They won’t let me embed the clip, and it doesn’t show all the balloon animals, or him riding away on a horse, leaping over the neighbor’s shrubbery. But next time this is on cable, catch the whole movie. It’s worth watching for this scene and to see Keanu Reeves ask Dianne Wiest if she knows what a boner is.

Steve Martin in bathmat chaps >>

Friday Morning Videos: Is There Something I Should Know?

I was in the mood for Duran Duran during bathtime last night, Arena-style (the greatest live album ever; if you don’t agree with me, you’ve never listened to the transition between “The Chauffeur” and “The Seventh Stranger”), and as we all know, it kicks off with this perfect concert opener. Duran Duran is begging you: please, please: do you love them? How much?

The answer, of course, is a lot.

This is a gem of a video in a library of great videos–it’s Duran Duran, after all, and they did videos up right. I don’t need to mention the hair (swoopy) or the makeup (perfect) or John’s cheekbones (swoopily perfect), so let’s just skip to the part where Simon’s a flea, walking across a dog’s back, and wonder: what?

dd_flea

 A few highlights:

  • Neckties.
  • Lots of children and babies. I don’t remember them being in the video, but watching it now, I wonder: Why didn’t they give Simon a baby to hold? Were they worried he’d drop it during a dance move? Did it not fit the milieu of the video? Or did they know that Simon Le Bon  + Baby would instantaneously send thousands of viewers into spontaneous ovulation?
  • Derby hats.
  • Lumberjacks in derby hats.
  • Cheerleaders.
  • Giant steps.
  • Split screens.

I count five scenes from previous Duran Duran videos–how many can you find? Here’s a hint for one.

ddvideo

Lastly, and certainly not least: “You’re about as easy as a nuclear war.” Those of you who understand, understand. Those of you who don’t, perhaps never will, but can try. This moment is the secret handshake of SlumberPartyMovies.com; when I performed this song in karaoke 20 years post-video, I performed the secret handshake and watched as the other writers of this blog performed it, as well, thus guaranteeing that a decade later, though we live 1,500 miles apart, we’re still singing about Duran Duran together.

If you already know “You’re about as easy as a nuclear war,” you may continue reading SlumberPartyMovies.com. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you must buy “Decade” immediately, watch it five times this weekend, including all four versions of “New Moon on Monday,” whilst drinking Bartles & James and eating Likem Stix, and then write an essay of apology to me and the rest of us Lerlines here at SPM.

I’m not going to be easy on you.

Slumber Party Movie Fashion Victims and Victors. The Big Date edition.

A common Slumber Party trope is The Big Date. After many sweaty nights, you finally get The Girl to agree to go out with you, usually through some sort of blackmail or straight-up Bunny Ranch-type payment for services rendered situation. That’s okay. You didn’t expect her to do it for free. You are just some poor, shlubby guy with a never-ending sense of humor, a totally misguided intrinsic respect for women, a talent for something stupid like music, art or computers and you are not blonde. Gross! Step up. She is the most popular girl at school. Everyone knows her by two names like Amanda Jones, Cindy Mancini, or Blane McDonnagh, and she is really good at doing things like talking to her friends, cheer-leading and being a bitch. I mean come on!

Like most Slumber Party tropes, The Big Date is filled with its share of Fashion Victims and Victors. Here are my picks:

In Some Kind of Wonderful, when the terminally ginger-haired Keith finally picks up the one-and-only Amanda Jones* for their Big Date, a date he literally mortgaged his entire future for, I’m sure he expected her to be dressed like the flawless princess she was…or at least like she was being paid to be on a date. But no. After spending a lot of time looking in the mirror, super-gluing her mullet into the perfect helmet-like shape and refusing to put on make-up, AJ showed up looking like a bank teller from Oklahoma.

VICTIM

VICTIM

You are taller, more beautiful and a better dresser, but I'm the most popular girl in school? Even I don't get it.

You are taller, more beautiful and a better dresser than me, but I’m the most popular girl in school? Even I don’t get it.

The weird thing is that Keith hired a hot heterosexual-yet-androgynous drummer to dress up like Morris Day’s chauffeur  and drive him around, but somehow couldn’t keep his eyes off Miss Helmet Hair.

VICTOR!

VICTOR!

In Can’t Buy Me Love teen McDreamy proves that he can buy love when he offers to pay Cindy Mancini (yes THE Cindy Mancini) the 1500 dollars to have the worst outfit in Big Date history cleaned after the Big Man on Campus spilled pretentious wine on it.

VICTIM

VICTIM

I don’t know which is worse–that it is all ivory suede, that it is fringed, that it is three pieces, and not one of those pieces is a shirt, that it would cost 1500 dollars to clean, or that she borrowed this slutty monstrosity from her MOTHER. Ew.

I think the stain is an improvement.

I think the stain is an improvement. Wait. Are those feather earrings? Holy hell.

In Pretty in Pink, Andie Walsh finally breaks through the stigma of being super cute and having lots of cool friends to actually land a date with the oh-so bland Blane McDonnagh. She of course decides to make her own dress! Spunky! The only problem is that she ends up looking like she ran into Dr. Shrinker on the way to the prom and had to wear something from Barbie’s Disco Queen collection. Spelunky….

VICTIM

VICTIM

I don’t know what is sadder–that Molly Ringwald’s nipples seem to be psychically forecasting Anne Hathaway’s recent Oscar dress controversy, or that if she had just worn Annie Pott’s adorably out-of-style dress as is, she would have been named the Victor! …Even with the fluffy yellow slippers.

Victor!

Victor!

*As long as you don’t Google her name or look it up in the phone book.