Yesterday, I got to say Happy Birthday to Star Wars. Today, I get to say it to something more important.
My wife. It’s her birthday.
The fact that she was born exactly one day after A New Hope came out is both good and bad for her. Good, because I will never forget her birthday. Bad, because she will always know why…
Happy Birthday, Star Wars. Today you turn 30. My condolences. I did that last year. It’s not great.
CIV kicked into lightspeed today with the first full-on general admission day of the ‘Con. More people! More stormtroopers! More shit to buy! More men who have never felt the touch of a non digital woman…
Today CIV opened its doors to card-carrying HyperSpace Fan Club members only. Of which there are tons. From noon to eight, we have free run of the L.A. Convention Center. Well, kinda. Thing is, on Fan Club Day, there’s really not much going on. Today is pretty much just “buy shit day.” The Star Wars Shop is open. As is the Exhibition Hall, which is just like the Dealer’s room at any other ‘Con, except that 95% of the shit for sale is Lucas-related…
So today I hauled my ass through the clean and un-congested freeways of the City of Angels, that are not at all terribly designed or life threatening to drive on, to get to the Los Angeles Convention Center this morning. Star Wars is having a birthday, and she’s celebrating alllllll weeeeekkkk llllooooonnnng…
So I am an un-abashed, un-repentant, un-something else, Star Wars geek. Everyone I know knows this. Everyone I’ve ever met probably knows this. It is something that is ingrained in the core of me, something that makes me me. And as much as that fact, at times, makes my wife cry like a widow, I have been this way my entire life…
There’s an episode of The Simpsons where Homer meets Mel Gibson. Mel is making a remake of the Capra/Stewart classic Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. He has brought Homer in to help him spruce up the ending, because Homer has declared the famous “Filibuster” scene from the original to be very very very boring…
I’m guilty as charged. I’ve never seen 28 Days Later, the Danny Boyle film that begat the sequel 28 Weeks Later. I like Danny Boyle and all, but I hate fast zombies. The explanation by many people that the antagonists in the film aren’t really zombies didn’t help matters, and I just never got around to seeing it. Now that I’ve seen its sequel, I’ll go back and watch it. After all, it’s got to be better than 28 Weeks Later…
I wasn’t going to write about the latest adventure from everyone’s favorie friendly neighborhood web-slinger after seeing it at mindnight on Thursday in a sold-out house, but I feel I have to do so mainly to answer some of the other critics out there.
Spider-Man 3 has been met with some pretty mixed reviews, but most of the criticism has been for some pretty stupid things…
Grindouse is a schlock, B-movie double-feature by this generations “renegade” directors (Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino for those not in the know). The films feature fake trailers by famous horror-movie directors, purposefully scratchy film quality, 70’s-era special effects, and typical Taranntino dialogue. Are they “good” movies? Not really, but it is fucking awesome…
I’ve learned a lot from Kenny Rogers. Thanks to him, I known when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away, and I even know when to run. I learned that sometimes you have to fight to be a man. And I even learned that love will turn you around. Turn. You. Around…
Prince Rogers Nelson made Hollywood remember his name with 1984’s Purple Rain, but left most critics in the cold with his follow-up, Under the Cherry Moon. His next film was a concert documentary entitled Sign O the Times, which earned him praise, albeit not for a dramatic role. So for Prince’s fourth feature film, he decided to go back to what brought him to the table, and make a sequel to his first film…
In 1984, Prince created a cult classic in Purple Rain. Two years later, he decided to follow it up with a nod to 1930’s screwball comedies set on the French Riviera, and got a tepid response. He did, however, manage to introduce to the world a future Oscar nominee in the process, and even got to call her “Cabbagehead”…
I’ll always love Purple Rain. It all goes back to my childhood, where I was such a Prince freak that I joined the “Purple Rain Club” with other kids in my fourth grade class, and we met under a table in the back of the classroom to discuss how wicked awesome we thought the man who would eventually have no name was…
I’m 33 years old. For the guys my age, there are certain films that are sacrosanct. The original Star Wars, Red Dawn, Weird Science. . . and Superman. I still remember going to see it back in 1978 with my elderly Aunt Eve – and I realize now what a weird and huge sacrificial act that must have been on her part…
Hollywood Reporter reviews
subscribe to rss 
