Shaking Our Fists at the Sun

The BOP 25 of Holiday Edition

By Calvin Trager

November 1, 2007

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I'm old enough to remember when it seemed like just a matter of time before Tom Cruise got his Academy Award. It's important to remember this now that there's an entire generation of movie goers viewing the ads for Lions For Lambs and disappointedly saying things like, "Geez, what is he thinking with this movie? It looks like Tom Cruise's Saturn Award nomination streak is over!"

In yet another case of Hollywood using the easily outraged as a marketing department, it has come to our attention that Church groups are in the process of raising consumer awareness – er, I mean raising a big fat stink over The Golden Compass for its potential to place anti-Christian themes squarely in front of impressionable youth. Even potentially worse, the movie, which is based on the first book of the His Dark Materials trilogy, could steer unsuspecting children toward the sequel books. The sequels, according to the trembling housewives, I mean concerned citizens, are so nefarious they make the first one look like a Sunday School textbook. Now look, I know everyone's first instinct here is to point and laugh, but we at BOP urge you to exercise some empathy (as well as irony). I mean, who better than the conservative right to know about the risk of becoming brainwashed simply by reading a book?

The Mist is either the lamest, most redundant horror movie premise ever, or the best beauty parlor sapphic romantic comedy premise ever. And now that I think about it, hopefully it's both.

You have to give credit where credit is due – the makers of Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story cast the fuck out of this movie. This movie has so many parts it literally needed two casting directors. Jenna Fischer, Paul Rudd, Jason Schwartzman, John C. Reilly. Hey, there's the dude from the Mac commercials. Hey, it's a bunch of people that used to be on Saturday Night Live! Hey, there's the guy from The Office – no, not the funny one, the other one! Hey, there's a bunch of smoking hot chicks playing ‘characters' like ‘Asian Groupie' and ‘LSD Vision'. Hey, there's that really short Playboy Playmate from ten years ago! Hey, there's Jack Black – no, I mean Jack White – wait, there they both are! And so forth and so on.

In contrast, I Am Legend, about the last survivor of a virus that obliterates humanity, only has about eight characters in it. It's like the anti-Dewey. When Kathleen Chopin gets together for lunch with Anya Colloff and Amy McIntyre Britt, does she have to just sit there while they go on and on about how they weren't sure if Stephanie Katz was better for the part of ‘Hotel Groupie' or ‘Rehab Nurse'?


I can't believe I'm almost to the end and I haven't made fun of Dustin Hoffman yet. I guess a picture really is worth a thousand words.

I think Aaron Sorkin is one more failed project away from a semi-autobiographical Showtime series about a dysfunctional writer who does a lot of drugs and dates really short actresses while his professional life ebbs and flows, kind of like a grittier version of Entourage, but without Turtle. This excites and terrifies me to the extent that I'm not sure if I'm rooting for Charlie Wilson's War to be good or to suck. Oh, who am I kidding?

I don't want to alarm you, but Josh Brolin figures prominently in our top two most anticipated movies of the holiday season (American Gangster and No Country For Old Men). Now, if I remember my Revelations correctly, this means you should start stocking up on canned goods and bottled water.

Have a happy Holiday movie season and people, please, don't take any wooden fruitcake. See ya next time.

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