Perhaps I'm a little guilty of schadenfreude, but who the hell wouldn't get a kick out of this latest box office disaster:
'Hottie' a nottie at the box office You can lead a gossip-loving fan to water, you can even dip their heads in the water, but you can't make them drink. Or even take a sip. A thousand people may line up at the Franklin Mills Mall and wait for hours to catch a glimpse of Paris Hilton but they won't pay money to see her in a movie. Playing in 111 theaters, the weekend estimate for "The Hottie" was a "Nottie" - $25,000. Total. An average of $225 per theater or, two, maybe three people per showing.
Daily News wire services contributed to this report.
Pardon me for a second. BWAHAHAHAHA! What a stinging rebuke for a no-talent nothing. Of course, we all saw this coming. I mean, what moron would actually believe that a Paris Hilton movie would actually make money in the theatres? I just feel bad for the people that have seen this piece of shit. To date, 'Hottie and The Nottie' has earned $27,696, which would be about 2500 people. THAT'S the most disturbing fact in all of this, that people outside of Paris' own family and her babbling sycophants have actually seen the film, and paid for it.
You'd think that Paris would have seen this coming, especially with the recent box-office turds that Lindsay Lohan (I Know Who Killed Me) and Jessica Simpson have crapped out. Thankfully, Jessica's camp realized her inability to do absolutely anything worthwhile and pulled Blond Ambitionafter screening it in only 8 theatres. It, and probably Major Movie Star, have and will be, straight to DVD, which will probably be found in the 99-cent bargain bin at Wal-Mart.
However, Jessica, Paris and even Lindsay cannot boast the lowest box office total. That honour actually gets bestowed upon Katherine Heigl, for her wonderful turn as a seductress in Zyzzyx Road. Also starring Leo Grillo (some guy) and Tom Sizemore, it's the story of love, murder and a horribly spelled road.
Zyzzyx Road release only lasted six days, from February 25, 2006 to March 2, 2006. It was release in only ONE theatre in Dallas, Texas, to six patrons. Unofficially, its opening weekend netted $20, but its actual box office total is proclaimed to be a whopping $30, the difference being a personal refund by Grillo to one of the makeup artists.
Zyzzyx Road, I salute you. You may have only made enough money to fill half a gas tank, but you're still infinitely better than any baby-puke film that Paris Hilton will put out.
Generally, older folks are kind, gentle people who just want you to get off their lawn. They love "the way things used to be", voting and Werther's Original candy. Most are quite harmless, especially the unarmed ones. However, there's one geriatric that you need to avoid at all costs. If you even hear her name uttered, your very life is at risk. Avoid the east coast, and for the love of all that's holy, never, EVER go near Cabot Cove, Maine.
Why the alarm? Why the grim message of potential doom? Because the woman in the picture to the left wants to kill you.
Jessica Fletcher was her name, and she was the main character of the show, Murder, She Wrote, which ran from 1984 to 1996, consisting of 264 episodes, and a few TV specials. Its popularity was palpable; the show was consistently a must-see for many people languishing for some sort of Sunday night escape in anticipation of the misery the week ahead would yield. The show was Matlock-esque in its vice-like hold on numerous genarians, from sexa to octo, and even middle-aged individuals found it to be somewhat whimsical in its approach to the most horrid of living ends. Children were taught that old people did have a use that went beyond sweater making and the holiday kiss on the cheek. Older people could actually perform civic duties, like solve murder mysteries. Apparently, the only pre-existing experience an old person needed was a publishing deal and a flippant wit. Murder, She Wrote was a delightful tale of one individual's crusade against the rampant ageism found in today's (or at least the '80s) society.
Or was it?
Jessica Fletcher, one could argue, was indirectly the worst serial killer in United States history. And the public adored her.
Each episode involved a murder, and subsequently, Jessica's insatiable curiousity always got the better of her, causing her to meddle in every police investigation. The cops always arrested the most obvious suspect, but Jessica always revealed the authorities' stupidity, and solved the mystery by revealing the real guilty party, thankfully within the hour (or sometimes in two parts). But hold on a second. 264 episodes, 264 murders. Jessica Fletcher always involved. Does anyone else see the path of gluttonous bloodlust? A ravenous desire to punish the living? Jessica Fletcher, I have figured you out.
Some might find it humourous that Ms. Fletcher coincidentally happened to always be around when a murder happens, but let's face it: even after 5 deaths, the cops should be questioning her a bit more. Does death follow her like rats to the malicious tune she plays with her necrotic hands? Is this woman Death itself? I believe she is. I believe she is indeed the Reaper, and her transportation, her bike, is her pale horse (the bike might have been red, but whatever. It's evil). All the clues are there. Simply watch the opening title sequence, and you will see.
In the opening scene, she begins to type her latest list of those who will meet their ultimate demise. The title is a dead giveaway (no pun intended), as "Murder, She Wrote" has 4 syllables. In China, Korea and Japan, 4 is the number most associated with death. Next, you can see her stalking out her next victims, by climbing to them, running to them, even making contact with them through a seemingly harmless wave. Her face reacts to the site of her next quarry; it's a look of pure malevolence carefully disguised by a surprised veneer. She even acts out how she's going to dispose of them. In the end, she's seen satisfied, quite pleased with the list of who's to shake off their mortal coil next.
Know this, faithful reader: simply because she's off the air, do not for a second believe that her lust, her desire to kill has been satiated. Quite the contrary. She will continue to kill, continue to frame the innocent, and continue to make stupid fucking jokes at the end of each episode.
mon·ster -noun 1. a legendary animal combining features of animal and human form or having the forms of various animals in combination, as a centaur, griffin, or sphinx. 2. any creature so ugly or monstrous as to frighten people. 3. any animal or human grotesquely deviating from the normal shape, behavior, or character. -adjective 4. huge; enormous; monstrous: a monster truck.
The picture above is that of the monster variety. You'll notice that it's dimensions are enlarged greatly, almost comically, as to enhance its status as a monster. Many humans, much like those described as number three in the definition above, display a fond affliction to these vehicles, so much so that it's seems juvenile or retarded to those observing from a distance.
And there I was, observing from a distance at Rexall Place on Saturday night. Although, not quite from a distance, but rather right front and fucking centre. For I, Tyler Daignault, for one night, became the stuff of legends...or something like that.
It all started when my friend and colleague Christina sent me an urgent text message telling me that I should "omg Tyler, you have to enter Sonic's Monster Jam Announcer contest!". Never one to ignore a message that brings our Lord into reference, I scrambled to nearest internet computing machine to see what had caused such a furious and urgent cry for my entry in competition. Sonic's webpage did not prove Christina to be a histrionic liar, but rather a wise sage. For what I saw ignited a spark within and a special feeling welled up inside me. It's that tingling feeling you get when you think to yourself, "Oh man! I would just kill at this!" For many years, friends, relatives, acquaintences and complete strangers have said to me that I should "be on the radio, or something". I've most assuredly taken this observation to heart, but regrettably, never to task. However, I've always looked out for special opportunities that allow me to showcase my unique oratory skills. Through the years, I've annoyed many with my "movie trailer-guy voice" and promoted many events by way of my microphone hogging. This "Monster Jam Announcer" contest would be just another way for me to perhaps gain some new admirers of my voice, or perhaps catch the ear of someone significant - a station manager, perhaps.
Don't get me wrong, though. I think monster trucks, and all motorsports in general are pretty much the dumbest "sporting events" out there. You want to watch cars zoom by you? Sit by the Whitemud or Henday for a while. However, I will always put my own opinions aside if it means I can win something. After auditioning at Sonic the following Friday morning, I found myself in the top 5, enabling my commercial for voting by the general public of Edmonton. Hear the commercial that put me into the top five! After an intense weekend of voting, and thanks to my efforts on Facebook, I won with 46% of the vote! I was going to Monster Jam and get to announce during the performance! I also received four Gold-Club seats, but who cares about those? I couldn't believe it; I was going to put my vocal talents to use in front of thousands of people. I was busting, and I had to get prepared. Hear how I prepped myself for my big night. The week proceeded to fly by with supersonic speed, and before I knew it, it was Saturday.
I made a decision that if I were to win this contest, then I would have to make the most of it, i.e., dress up. For numerous parties, Halloween or the like, I've dressed up as an "80's rocker" or "some white trash guy with a mullet", so I had a costume in mind. Not to say that all monster truck fans are white trash, or sport mullets, but there's a reason that stereotype exists. From what I have seen traipse through Rexall for events like these (the last "Larry the Cable Guy show", for example), the people attending aren't exactly dressed to see the damn symphony orchestra. They're hicks, and they like it. I can't tell you how many "Motorists" (remember, from "Who's Who In The Mall"?) I saw there, but I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised. In fact, you'd expect it. So what better way to fit in, and truly appreciate the gravity of the situation, than to dress up. When in Rome, right? I also conned my friends Mike G and Greg into costuming, as well.
We met our contact Nate at Rexall, and proceeded to descend into the depths of the coliseum, to just outside the visiting dressing room, where we signed a waiver (for what, I don't really know), and psyched ourselves up for a bit. There were plenty of trucks to see, and we even got eyeballed by the anthem singer and her boyfriend (like they haven't seen people looking like us before - girl, you sing anthems at a truck event, for fuck sakes). Then, it happened:
Can you say "crazy, if only for a few seconds?" I sure can. Yes, it was short, and the MC ripped the mic out my hands, as if some massive five-ton truck was barreling down on us, but I had a great time! After the shock and awe of it all settled in, we went up to our seats, which were prime to say the least. However, as we reached section 101 and looked at row 16, seats 1-4, some assholes were sitting there. I just assumed that they were confused or just dumb, but Mike and Greg were ready to berate them on their poor seating choice. I got the usher involved instead (I don't want to tarnish my new celebrity status), and he approached the seat poachers. As they left, Mike yells "Britany!", and some girl yells, "Fucker!" Apparently, one of the poachers was one of Mike's ex-girlfriends. I can't think of a better way to get one up on the ex like giving them the fucking boot. It was a delicious scene. The show was on, and we proceeded to drink, eat, generally be merry, and of course, pose for any pictures from our new, adoring fans (and there were some).
Many thanks to Sonic for choosing me as their represntative, many thanks to everyone who voted for me, and many thanks to Nate from LiveNation. Most of all, thanks to the crowd. Thanks for not taking my attempt to ridicule you by way of costume as an insult. It was really appreciated.
In a brand new category of posts, I'd like to answer that age-old burning, and possibly sweaty and drunken, question: "Who's that actor, and where have I seen him/her before?"
Remember that time when you and your friends were sitting around, watching the picture tube and having a few drinks? The conversation was drifting between why your love/hate relationship with the Oilers is reaching near psychotic levels and why Dave's girlfriend could actually be a hooker. All the while, you're trying desperately to find something to do, because frankly, anything's better than just sitting there on a Friday night watching Space Channel's "Friday Frightmare" and drinking sad-man beers. You're watching "Aliens", and then somebody asks the question that sparks a colossal debate: "I've totally seen that actor somewhere. What else has he been in?"
And with that, I'd like to introduce the first actor in a series of posts that deals with answering that elusive, expansive question. The answer to the question is, "Yes, you have seen him before, and no, he wasn't in that show 'Titus'. That was actually Christopher Titus". Our first actor you've seen before is the very underrated and talented Michael Biehn.
Born in Alabama in 1956, Michael eventually attended the University of Arizona, where he enrolled in the drama program, and truly learned what it took to not only be a wildcat on campus, but a wildcat on screen. He was most recently in Planet Terror, from "Grindhouse", but you didn't see that, because when you went to the theatres, you saw "The Reaping" instead. I bet you really regret that now, huh? Let's take a look at some of the films that Michael's presence not only made the film, but he made the viewing experience explode out of your TV and out of your mind!
In The Terminator, Michael shows us his incredible range of talent when he's confronted by a past he's unfamiliar with, and without clothes. Watch the urgency, watch the committment, listen to the awesome dialogue:
Incredible. What year, indeed. You totally remember him in that, right? Now, where else did you see him? How about Aliens? Keep watch at 0:49 and 5:12 to see how an extraordinary actor takes a normal scenario like being attacked by hostile xenomorphic aliens, and makes it his own.
He is a wonder. The shotgun in the aliens mouth, and the line "Eat this!" was your favourite part of the film, wasn't it? You've definitely seen him in other films, though. How about The Seventh Sign? K2? Three films playing a Navy Seal (Navy Seals, The Abyss and The Rock)? One of my personal favourites, is this gem from Tombstone, where he played "Johnny Ringo" with a malicious deliciousness. Let's watch.
I don't know about you, but that scene gave me some old-fashioned goosebumps, like if someone took some cold sarsaparilla and unexpectedly poured it all over my back. That's kind of a dick move, actually.
So the next time someone says, "Hey, I think I've seen him before in something. Wasn't that guy in The Matrix?", simply say, "No, moron. That was Joe Pantoliano." This is Michael Biehn, and you had better show respect. What other actor can put on some bandages, and just fucking act their hearts out? Huh? Nobody.
I am a proud member of the U of A's "7/1 Club" - 7 years, one degree. I am in a perpetual state of mediocrity, although grocery baggers at Safeway seem to disagree. I consider pennies to be useless, but cannot resist picking one off the street, for fear of missed good luck. I cannot tolerate ignorance, but I don't know anyone who is truly ignorant. Some seem to have issues with my acceptance of single life, I say it helps me with making hilarious voices.
