No Christmas post.
No NYE post.
Yeah, well, who has the time? Especially when a daytime timetable like mine has been filled with Soprano screenings, working on the always developing “project” (which will be explained in good time) and constantly eating white chocolate cookies.
However, I have reserved some time, amidst my rapid sugar-induced weight gain and pronunciation classes to sound like a New Jersey mobster, to catch up on some long delayed movie viewing; but I've come to discover that there's no point to watching all these movies if you don’t have a guide to contextualise the films for you.
Enter Ebert and Roeper, perhaps the worst film (yet most entertaining) reviewers out there.
Why? Well, even though he looks like he’s dropped some pounds, Ebert is still consumed by dreams of cream cakes and apple strudels. At one point during a review, in which Ebert was once again ruining all point of seeing the feature by explaining every plot twist in detail, I hit the mute function on the remote, mid: “and that’s why he killed his moth…” yet, while I anticipated the movements of his bloodhound like jowls to form the female parental figure, I could have sworn he actually mimed the sentence: “I’d kill my mother for a cream cheese sandwich right now!” Turning the mute off, he continued to explain every detial of the film. Weird I know, but try it yourself, that man’s belly knows no peace and communicates on a frequency unperceivable by the human ear, but traceable by the mute function. But all that’s to be expected from a guy whose only love is ruining movies for people and eating their leftovers at restaurants when they shift their attentions away from their cutlets.
Ebert asks an assembly of film
associates "are you going to eat that?"
Now, Roeper on the other hand, oh, Roeper, now this guy is hilarious. While his reviews are more succinct and less spoiled than his picnic basket stealing counterpart, Roeper clearly doesn’t wish to be in the critic’s chair. Sure, he’s made a career out of it, but I don’t believe for a minute that it was marked first on his university application. No, after watching numerous internet feeds of their show, I’m positive somewhere along his career path Roeper must have applied for an anchor position on Sportcenter. It’s the only explanation for a man who punctuates every sentance with an explanation mark and reviews a nineteeth century period film like Marv Albert at a Lakers V Celtics game:
"...in a movie like this you really need to go 40-45 minutes of aggressive dialogue, Roger, total dedication, you can’t drop the ball, er, did I say ball? I meant camera, yeah, camera don’t drop the camera… and don’t talk to me about the three act structure! That third act can sneak up on you, baby, but with a director like this on the helm I think this movie can make it all the way to the big dance."
I challenge you, jump between any sports telecast and Roeper talking and you won’t know what station is which...
...I guess, the same can be said for Ebert and Ian Hewitson, but what do I know, I don't I can complain about these things, I've got a film degree, have spent the last week watching four seasons of the Sopranos and can't get comfortable in bed anymore because of the cookie crumbs.
