- Instead of talking about Star Wars: Rinse of Skywalky, maybe we can just all hang out and drink some Claws and watch old Tina Turner performances.
- Like this:
- You see that shit?
- That’s some good shit, bro-heim.
- Those back-up dancers brought the energy.
- And there were no enormous plot holes.
- Nor did watching Tina’s performance seen like a chore that must be endured lest one’s Social Affability Index be degraded.
- That’s what I need to know: is there a way to stop watching Star Wars movies without being sent to Disney’s reeducation camps?
- I mean, I certainly don’t want to turn into one of those assholes that watches films.
- Me, I like movies.
- ‘Splosions and punching and wisecracks.
- Which Star Wars: Rime of the Skymariner had in spades, but they were the wrong kind.
- Remember that poem about the Hollow Men?
- I think T.S. Eliot was talking about Tobacco the Space Monkey; he just made it about men because he had had just done all the ones about cats, and he was afraid his peers were gonna start calling him a Furry behind his back.
- Enthusiasts, this bullshit here is the Death of Fun, and if young people were radicalized into Luddism by it, I would cheer them on.
- BURN THE LOOMS, MOTHERFUCKERS!
- Just stop making these movies.
- Everybody’s dead or fat or Harrison Ford, and no one cares about the new characters except for Sexy Space Mexican, and all the plots are recycled.
- But not recycled in a First World way.
- Like, how your empty bottle of banana schnapps gets taken to a factory, broken down into its component parts, and reconstituted into a jar of half-sour pickles.
- Recycled in a Third Word way, where a broken-down Ford gets welded to half a bootleg Schwinn and used as both a taxi and a brothel.
- Wait, wait, wait.
- From here on:
- “Totd,” you ask, “why have you posted a picture of KISS’ semi-competent drummer Peter Criss?”
- Because according to Peter Criss’ biography, his penis is so large that it was nicknamed “The Spoiler,” as that was the effect it would have on women.
- “I wish you hadn’t told me that,” you say.
- Well, fuck you for being curious.
- Remember what it did to the cat?
- Anyway: spoilers.
- The good guys win.
- I did not want them to.
- I wanted the Emperor to win, because I love that scrotum-faced maniac and his joyful malice.
- Conflicted villains are boring; gimme a fucker who wants to masturbate using the galaxy’s tears as lube.
- Oh, remember the Emperor?
- He’s back.
- How?
- If I gave you a 24-oz collector’s edition bottle of Johnson’s Baby Yoda Shampoo, would you retract your query?
- Johnson’s Baby Yoda Shampoo: Tears, No More There Will Be.
- There is no explanation for Palpatine’s resurrection.
- Even the Friday the 13th movies went through the motions of “explaining” how Jason came back in each installment.
- Disney respects you, the viewer, LESS than Friday the fucking 13th.
- And he’s Rey’s grandfather.
- I swear to God.
- Which is not as dramatic as Darth Vader being Luke’s father.
- He tells Rey, “I am your grandfather,” and I desperately wanted her to answer, “Peepaw?”
- “No. Stop calling me that.”
- “Awww. You’re my mean ol’ Peepaw.”
- “Cut that out. I’m eeeeeeevil.”
- “You’re cranky is what you are. Did you take your pills?”
- This does not happen.
- Instead, he and Rey pull weird faces and make Jedi-gestures at one another while EVERY SPACESHIP IN THE GALAXY shoots at each other.
- Here, look at this:
- Falcon versus four TIE fighters.
- Wouldn’t even count for a skirmish in Star War: The Rimbaud of Skyjellyfetti, and yet it’s more exhilarating than anything in that flick.
- Quick cuts, lateral motion of the guns and ships, big ‘splosion at the end: it’s almost as if filmmaking has a language all its own.
- And in said language, this…
- …just registers as noise.
- Look at that and try to give a shit.
- Try your hardest.
- Work at caring about that under-designed, colorless schmear of spacey garbage.
- And the bad guys were just as bad.
- DO NOT AVERT YOUR EYES, SINNER!
- This is what you wanted.
- This is what we asked for.
- And this is what we deserve.
- I dare you to say America in 2019 deserves better than Star Wars: the Roomba of Spaghetti.
- Two minor points relating to Tobacco the Space Monkey:
- He is taken prisoner by the Empire (or whatever the fuck they’re called) and his bandolier is removed; when he is rescued, he runs around without it for a couple scenes but no one says to him, “You’re nakey,” and I think that was a missed opportunity.
- At the end, the little CG creature who ran a bar in the first one gives Tobacco the medal he should have received in the first film, saying, “Leia wanted you to have this,” and I said, “Oh, go fuck yourself,” to the screen out loud. (I make a lot of shit up, but not that. Ask Brother on the Dead. He shushed me.)
- Anyway, Luke and Leia and Han come back, and also Lando.
- Delightfully, Lando is just as horny as the last time we saw him.
- Mark Hamill, on the other hand, is over it.
- I’m talking Harrison-Ford-levels of apathy.
- And HOLY SHIT did Harrison Ford phone in his scene.
- I think they might have shot it in his pool house and just CG’ed him into the movie.
- Dude didn’t even shave.
- His hair was all messy.
- HARRISON FORD’S BENTLEY SCREECHING UP NOISE
- “Just gimme the goddamn vest and the check. You got an hour.”
- “Harrison, in this scene–“
- “I love you, Billy. You’re my son or whatever. Don’t worry about killing me. You’re a good kid”
- “Harrison, that’s not the line and his name is–“
- HARRISON FORD’S BENTLEY SCREECHING AWAY NOISE
- “We’ll fix it in post! Moving on!”
- What was the plot?
- I saw the movie ten hours ago and can remember just snatches of it.
- I recall a bit of zippity, some zoppity, a whole steaming pile of pewpewpew, but not the actual plot.
- Oscar Isaac did get himself a girlfriend in this one to combat the perception that he and what-his-face were humping.
- She was dressed like the Rocketeer and did…something.
- I can’t remember her name.
- Zoopy Doopy?
- Something like that.
- Also: the Force can do fucking ANYTHING now.
- Used to be that the Force was mild telepathy and a li’l bit of telekinesis.
- Maybe some soothsaying, but that was only for the high-level users.
- Now?
- You can Force-heal fuckers back from the dead.
- Or teleport solid objects between discrete locations.
- Light speed also has new rules.
- Wait.
- No.
- Light speed now has no rules.
- Except that you can’t do the bullshit from The Last Jedi where Laura Dern turned her spaceship into a rail gun and obliterated the entire Imperial Fleet at once.
- The reason for this is that J. J. Abrams literally reversed every decision from The Last Jedi.
- Rey’s parents being nobodies?
- NOPE!
- She’s a Palpatine.
- Rose Tattoo (or whatever the fuck the lovely-seeming Asian-American actress whom the internet was so unpleasant to was called) as a main character?
- NOPE!
- She has three lines.
- Kyle Reddit destroys his cheesy helmet?
- NOPE!
- Puts it right back together.
- Do not mistake my mockery of these reversals for an advocacy of The Last Jedi.
- It suuuuuuuucks.
- Watched it last night.
- It’s still boring and miserable and overlong and stupid and tonally schizoid.
- Final topic: Star Wars must be taken away from Kathleen Kennedy.
- The Disney era of SW has been marked by nothing by reactionary movement.
- Directors fired in the middle of shoots, movies announced and cancelled, the flagship trilogy shoddy and forgettable: far closer to DC’s cinematic offerings than to Marvel’s.
- The best we’ve gotten so far is The Mandalorian, and the shine is off that helmet, mostly because after the second or third episode, the Mandalorian became functionally retarded.
- “Hi, Mando. You’re probably surprised to hear from me, seeing as how I tried to kill you last time we met. And the time before that. And the time before that. But I got a job for you.”
- “Okay.”
- “Meet me in an abandoned alley in the bad section of the galaxy. Come alone and bring Baby Yoda.”
- “Sounds good.”
- Enough.
- No more.
- Let us stand athwart Star Wars, yelling stop.
Based on the shitty preview they showed when we saw it, I would say Disney has successfully broken Pixar too. (That said, my Star Wars expectations are so low that I did not mind “Rhyming Scarborough” that much).
Good thing you turned me on to “The Expanse” for some palate-cleansing proper pew-pew. Two seasons down, two to go . . .
Oh, God, the thing where the trolls brought their father’s crotch back? I did not get that.
IN RE: The Expanse — YAAAAAAAAAY. Isn’t it SO GOOD?
Yeah, that clear piece of shit. RIP Pixar.
And in other news: BEST. TV SHOW. EVAR!!!
(Pew! Pew pew! Pew!)
(I also want all of my electronic gadgety things to shout at me in Shanana Aoxomoxoa’s V-8 voice. I would totally make little saris for my Alexa and Nav thingies if they did that).
Just wait until the fourth season when she starts cursing. It’s like God humping your ears.
I’ve been off the bus since Solo. Been star wars free for over a year. If you’re strong and you take it a day at a time it can be done.
does anyone know where i bought my very plain sticker of wallie? i need another. i am sure i found it in this neighborhood a couple of years ago, or maybe a block or two away….